#imagine being abandoned by your creators without so much as a warning

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hmmmm having angsty Lights Out thoughts

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello again 🙋🏻‍♀️! I couldn't stay away from your blog much longer, treating myself a full binge of your beautiful work on my evening off 😋.

So, I come with another meow meow Daemon thingy, where he's betrothed to a sharp Stark lady who's ruthless with him and he's like 😍; So he's geting "ahem" impatient at the wedding, losing control and trying to touch her. I'll leave the rest to you as I trust in this vivid imagination 😄.

Thanks for being the amazing creator you are, have a lovely day 💐

A Ring is Merely Jewelry and Marriage a Contract

Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You had a lot to say to your father about his plans to marry you off to house Targaryen. And though you thought the prince was as appalled by the match as you are, something rewired his brain when he saw you. Direwolf against dragon anyone? Dare to place your bet on who wins?

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Misogyny, arranged/forced marriage, fem!reader, snarky!reader, annoying!Daemon, enemies to lovers(?), father's reader is sick and coughs every other moment, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! I WAS SO EXCITED TO SEE THIS IN MY INBOX!!!!! '... couldn't stay away from your blog much longer' begs the question why were you staying away in the first place 🤨 I'm so glad you think im amazing <3 SLAY yuh. my heart goes boom but i have to admit, the prompt stumped me a bit. so hopefully you enjoy what I made. i enjoyed writing it myself Also, I don't know much about game of thrones lore so im just making stuff up as i go SKSKASKFA:SF I LOVE LONG HAIRED DAEMON GAAH LOOK AT HIM ALL PETTY AND PATHETIC WITH THAT DRAGON EGG Part 2 anyone "Fire & Havoc"

I slam my hands on the table, "I WILL NOT GO, FATHER!"

He is unfazed by the ruckus I cause and only proceeds to eat his breakfast.

"You told me I could choose whom I marry," I whine, "you swore it. I-"

"But that was before," he speaks plainly, offering me a mere look after.

I scoff, twice as wronged because I knew exactly what he meant. "Cregan!" I call to my older and only other sibling, "surely you do not-"

"This matter does not concern your brother," my father dismisses.

"Oh," I stand from my seat and glare at my father, "does it not" I scoff yet again, "when he will surely benefit from the marriage you are suggesting with that horrid prince-"

"Silence!" my father takes his turn slamming his hand on the table. For a moment, the two of us glare at each other. He continues after taking a deep breath, "you are to pack, leave your wolf and-"

"Leave my wolf?!"

"-to travel to King's Landing at once, with not a single complaint."

My jaw slacks in utter disbelief. My fists tighten in rage.

Cregan, who had been spectating silently the entire time, finally drops his fork and swallows the food in his mouth, "father, don't you think making her leave without Ha-"

"ENOUGH!"

Both Cregan and I stiffen at the echo of our father's voice. However, his body proceeds to rattle with an intense cough.

The anger in me fades into concern when his ragged barks do not cease. Before I could gather my skirts and go to him, he raises his hand and forces him breath to even, "enough."

Rickon looks back to me and the hollowness of his face is suddenly apparent, "I will not argue over this any further, daughter."

"But, fa-"

"You are a Stark," he sighs, "cunning, strong, and capable, but when I die, all that I have will pass to your brother," he leans against his chair, "and even though I know he would not abandon you, the fool will surely not remember you enough to keep you safe."

"But I don't need him to be safe, I-"

"The world will not allow it," he manages before choking into another cough.

As Cregan gives the old man a drink, I feel tears glass my eyes out of spite.

Rickon does not accept the cup upon seeing my expression.

"It is not fair," I mutter under a jagged breath.

He sighs, "if it were up to me, I would-"

"You cannot make me leave my wolf," I point accusingly, "you cannot make me go to him, as though I am a subservient entity with no mind and no desires."

My father speaks my name, but I am not having it.

"If you are so hellbent on me marrying that insolent younger Targaryen that you waste your dying wish on him," I seethe, anger leaving me in a form of bitter of tears, "then I will do as my Lord Stark commands," I offer a fake curtsy.

My father calls me again, another cough takes possession of him.

"But know this," I say as I straighten myself up, "if he dares lay a finger on me, I will slit his throat. And if he is a good enough warrior to survive my blade, then he will slit my throat for my treason," I move away from my seat, "and when my blood waters the earth, father, it will be because of your dying wish."

"ENOUGH!" Cregan demands, pointing at me angrily.

By the time my the coughs reverberating in the dining room dampens, I've already made my way out.

There was a part of me that regrets leaving home like that. But it was precisely Rickon Stark who imparted his great pride upon me. I could not even bring myself to look at him before I left, though Cregan bribed me with my own wolf to have me speak to our father.

She new I was leaving, Havoc. I nearly jumped out of my carriage when I heard her desperate howls. I found that my door was locked from the outside and the idea enraged me enough that I nearly broke the window open.

But then it dawned to me that it was pointless.

Even if I managed to get out of my prison, I would be shipped to King's Landing either way, only this time, I would have worn everyone's patience thinner.

You could only imagine the state of my own patience when I arrived at my horrid destination.

It was unbelievably sweltering and unimaginably cold all at once.

Him, tenfold, that Daemon Targaryen.

Not only did he place no efforts in welcoming me, it seems he ordered my chambers to be at the opposite of his, to make things more annoying and more difficult for everyone.

Fine.

It seems he did not want me, and I did not want him. We at least had something in common we could work on.

Today marked the 10th day of my stay in this wretched place. Each morn, I would seek audience with my betrothed and yet his handmaiden would curtsy to me and say, "the Prince is not here, my lady."

I chuckle dryly in disbelief and make an effort not to snap at the woman, for I knew she was not at fault, "and have you expressed my tenacity to seek audience with him. I-- Lady Stark, who has defeated my Lord suitors in combat, and would gladly attack him for less if he continues ignoring my existence-- seek his audience" I nod feverously, "have you expressed this to him?"

My words are visibly unsavory to her ears, "I have, your grace."

My face twitches as I avert my gaze away from the woman. But not even the sight of the blue sky halts the way my chest vibrates in annoyed laughter, "then he is more insolent than I could have ever hoped," I release a sharp shudder, "and I am to be wed to him in two days time."

I turn back to the perturbed maid, "what jovial news, don't you agree-- Bethany, was it?"

She nods her head as her face twists in fear.

I take deep breaths to calm myself and screw my eyes shut at the feel of sweat dripping down my nape because of the fucking climate of this wretched place.

I rub the back of my neck roughly as I open my eyes and force a smile, "then shall you lead me to the training grounds?"

"As you command," she shakes her head, "but I am sure the prince is not-"

"Not for him," I blurt, "for me."

Her brows knit, "... your grace, I-"

"And I do not mean the royal training grounds. It's utterly boring there. I mean the area where those Gold Cloaks train. Do you know what I speak of?"

Bethany quickly nods.

"Yes, that's the one. I am fucking sick of doing nothing all day, and so I might as well entertain myself before I end up killing someone."

I do not have enough patience to explain the light jest in my tone after hearing how roughly she gulps.

Bethany wordlessly escorts me to the training grounds, where I then see about a dozen men, sweaty and loud, as they spar and practice together.

I find myself releasing a sigh of relief at the sight before me, and promptly dismiss Bethany with a nod.

The moment she goes on her way, however, I call out to her, remembering my own poor handmaiden, "might I ask one last favor before you leave?"

Bethany nods, "of course, my lady."

"Please inform Belidea of my whereabouts. She is a terrible worry wart and I cannot stand the sound of her high pitched nags."

"Of course, my lady," she repeats more urgently.

I nod, "very good. You have my thanks."

Once she is gone, I make my way to the training grounds, and my mere presence commands the attention of the soldiers.

"My lady," a man with brown hair and a long beard nods, walking over to me with his golden cloak swaying behind him.

I nod back at him, "who is the commander of this training session?"

"That would be me, my lady."

I smile at him and introduce myself, "you are welcome to call me simply by my name."

"I do not wish to offend Prince Daemon," he says, then adding, "Ser Phineas, at your service, Lady Stark."

"A pleasure," I say, "though I must correct you in your belief that your beloved prince even knows of my existence."

"Nonsense," he shakes his head, "his head is heavy with thoughts of your marriage."

I snort, "you don't say? You are acquainted with his insolence well then?"

Phineas lets out an uncomfortable cough, My lips curve at it.

"I would not myself assume to be well-acquainted with our prince at all."

"Hmm," I cross my arms, "very well then, ser Phineas. I wonder then if you would allow me the warm regard your dragon born did not when I arrived to King's Landing."

The man bows in response.

"I would like to spar with your finest swordsman."

He lifts his face to me.

"I am terribly bored and quite frankly annoyed by the continuous absence of my beloved," I suck in a deep breath, "and so I should like to relieve my stress rather than allow it to fester within me."

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, square shoulders relaxing, "Ah. I would gladly instruct the lady in the art of-"

I raise a finger at him, "I did not ask to be taught," I cut him off, "and if it is you who you believe to the best amongst your peers, then I shall warn you not to twist my words and delude yourself to be better than I, simply because you are a man."

I see how his expression shifts at my words. Phineas sucks in a a breath from his nostrils, "Lady Stark, I do not wish to harm you, nor do I think it would be wise for you to rile up the prince, if that is-"

"Bold of you to think you could harm me, first of all," I say walking off to the circle him, "second of all, if you bring up the prince again, I will rip your cloak off and use it as a towel," I rub my forehead, "the heat of this place is unbearable."

"It must be polar opposite to the frost up North," he says, turning to me when I make it back in front of him.

"It is," I state, "now. Will you let me spar, or will I have to provoke you even more?"

He is unable to control the curl of amusement from his lips.

The whole training ground clears and crowds around us as we make it its center. Phineas turns to his brothers-at-arms and then back to me as he twists his sword in his hands for show, "I will go-"

"Easy on me?" I roll my eyes and finish for him, stabbing my sword on the ground before me so that I can stretch, "I would advise you otherwise, since I am as adept with the blade in a skirt, as I am without." I roll my shoulder back as I smirk, "it would hurt your fragile ego too much if you should lose to me too quickly."

The crowd mumbles at my haughty remark.

Phineas chuckles but shows no trace of annoyance or anger.

I smile at his composure and pull my sword up, pointing it to him, "enough chat."

"MY LADY, NO!" the frantic voice of my handmaiden calls out. All eyes turn to her as she makes her way through the crowd and makes herself visible to me.

"Belidea," I call, "just in time for the show."

"Please," she catches her breath, adding lowly, "do not make a spectacle of yourself."

I roll my eyes, "then would you like to spar with him?"

Belidea only continues to heave as I offer her the weapon in my hand.

I raise a brow at her and go back to my stance, "then be still and silent."

Phineas readies himself, "you can still-" but the sound of my steel crashing against his effectively shut him up.

It seems, finally, after all this time, I have finally merited the attention of the prince.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Daemon barks, beholding his beloved Gold Cloaks, worn out, battered and beaten, with several injured.

Having taken a moment to drink some water, I see the long silver hair on his back and find my brows raising at the sight of it.

The man I was drinking with, Elias, chokes on his water and wipes his lips quickly with his wrist. He leans and mutters to me, "that's the prince, my lady."

"Yes," I shift on my leg, "it is obvious, it is not?"

Faced with frantic faces, Daemon is still with rage at the lack of answers.

"Betrothed," I call from behind him the moment I am near. With my hair wild out of its original hairstyle, and my skirt ripped short out of my own rage towards it, I curtsy at him with my hands behind my back.

My eyes do not leave the Targaryen's face as he examines the cuts on my arm and thighs. There was blood on my clothes that was indistinguishable if it were mine or not, but there was a sure darkness behind my eyes. I rise when I speak, "it is a wonder to finally meet you face to face."

Belidea, who was quick to run to my side, shrinks as not to meet the prince's gaze. She quickly makes an effort to wrap the golden cloak I took as my prize to mask my indecency, but I merely push the cloak of me.

"Were you captured?" he quickly interrogates, as if he is concerned.

I scoff and roll my eyes, "as your men are ashamed to admit," I turn to Phineas, who was missing his cloak, "I amused myself by winning all the matches against them."

The man shifts to face me, grabbing the fabric of what used to be part of my sleeve, "and this looks like winning to you?"

I rip the fabric off me using I had in my palms and step forward, motioning to the side, "does that?"

He bares his profile to me as he examines his battered men. A curve forms on his lips and it makes my eyes narrow in anger.

"All of you morons lost to the lady?" he calls loudly, ending his words with a chuckle.

I fidget with the dagger in my hand.

Upon catching this, Phineas places a hand on my arm. I turn to him with a dirty look that immediately makes him withdraw.

"Is it so hard to believe, Prince Daemon?"

Daemon turns back to me, eyes bright, matching his grin, "no, I am impressed."

I scoff, "because you do not believe my might."

He steps closer to me, eyes flickering to the dagger I was still playing with, "perhaps you would grace me with a demonstration-"

"Go fuck yourself," I blurt, throwing the dagger off to the side before storming off.

And as shocked as he was, Daemon was more so excited than anything.

It seems he was so moved by my performance that he finally came to me instead of the other way around. He, however, lacked the decency I had and came to me in the darkness of night.

It took everything in my not to ram into him and strike him with the comb I was using when he rudely walked in my chambers. I controlled myself for the sake of the poor servants that would behold my massacre.

"What do you want?" I blurt, eyeing him from my vanity.

Daemon, who was in his own sleeping attire it seems, smiles softly as he places his hands behind his back, "my lady wife has been seeking my audience."

I slam my comb on my vanity and cause my maids to gasp. I march in front of the seemingly further amused prince and clench my jaw at the sight of him, "the mere fact you are referring to me as your wife tells me that I should not seek your audience at all."

He chuckles at my words, linking his hands in front of him. Daemon hums, "I see. You do not wish to wed me."

I scoff, "and a few hours ago, you shared the same sentiment." I tilt my head up at him in annoyance, but it seems the sight of the blood on my clothes has made you change your fickle mind."

He chuckles more loudly this time, "that was because I was fed lies about marrying an obedient wife that wanted nothing but to sire me strong heirs with the will of Starks and Targaryens."

"And what pig shat out that crap?"

"That would be the lords of the council," he smiles, "but clearly they have not met you."

I lick my teeth at his expression, "do not act so pleased, as though you have won me over."

"Worry not, my dear, the dragon in me so burns at the challenge."

I shake my head and roll my eyes at him, "do not speak to me of your dragon," I step away from him, "it does not entice me."

I catch sight of my servants as Daemon laughs. I promptly dismiss them as the prince makes his way to my bed and sits on the side, "ah yes. I was wondering why I had yet to behold your famous direwolves."

I cross my arms as he presses his lips into a pleased smile, "would they not fare well in this weather? Is that why you did not bring yours?"

"Are you quite comfortable, my prince?"

His shoulders shake in amusement, "I am."

"Then do not be surprised if you do not make it out of here alive," I say as I stalk towards him.

Daemon give me a lopsided smirk, "they did not allow you any weapons, as your brother warned."

"A comb would be a good weapon as any," I blurt, grabbing the said object from my vanity and pointing it to him as I stand before him.

I am surprised that he does not laugh at my words. He is wise not to anger me any further.

"You must admit it is better that you and I end up with each other."

"And why would I ever admit that," I whisper through grit teeth.

"Because you and I are the same," he says, standing.

"We are not the same."

Daemon turns to the comb still pointed at him as he walks closer, "I too would make a weapon out of anything I could get my hands on."

I lean towards him, dropping my comb, to grab his collar, "that does not make us the same."

He releases a hot breath that hits my face. As I glare at him, his hands land on my sides, making me jolt. I promptly shove him off when I feel his unwelcome touch, "fuck off."

He reels back, but does not fall on my bed. I gaze upon him with anger and wrap my arms around myself, annoyed by the goosebumps that form on my skin.

"If you shall call to me again, I will hastily answer."

I grunt, "Fuck. Off."

He offers me one last chuckle as he nods, "I look forward to our wedding."

I do not.

The hour comes swiftly despite this.

We were now in the dining hall on either side of the king. The two brothers were making merry, yet I was making no effort to hide my distaste.

"I heard that you made a spectacle of the Gold Cloaks, sister," Queen Aemma spoke, making me turn to her as she caressed the bump of her belly.

I looked at her smile and pitied how she was reduced to nothing but a baby maker.

"Uncle went from denying your existence to praising the very ground you walked on," Rhaenyra adds, mischief written all over her face. Her mother to scolds her, to which she responds, "what, it's true?"

"I so would like to know how good you are with blades. It is not everyday that we hear of a woman warrior," King Viserys chuckles, and it makes me snap.

"Well it is not everyday that a father allows his daughter to practice her strength," I coldly remark, turning from him to Rhaenyra, "I heard you dissuade the princess from going on dragonback though it is in her very nature to be drawn to it."

Daemon chuckles as his older brother goes quiet.

I catch sight of my impeding doom's amusement, and turn away from him. That very moment, the dining hall's doors open and I find myself shooting up from my seat.

No matter ho much of a solid fortress I convinced myself to, the moment I saw my brother walk in with my father being carried by two of our men in a litter, I was crumbling at the very seams.

I feel the Targaryens burn their eyes on me but I do not care.

The moment my family is before me, I clench my jaw.

"My King, My Queen, My Prince, My Princess," Cregan smiles between the royal faces then turns to me, "dear sister."

"Lord Rickon," Viserys greets, "Lord Cregan."

"I hope you have taken kindly to my daughter, Prince Daemon," my father mutters with a strained voice.

I do not tear my gaze from my father, whose illness was clearly getting the better of him.

"She was surely the pride of your house," Daemon says, "and now she will be the pride of mine."

The old fool nods at the prince's words, and I feel bitterness coat my tongue. My father seemingly wanted to say something, but his cough decides he won't before he can even open his mouth.

Cregan takes it as a cue to take him away. He gives me a look, "father wished to tell you that you are the perfect bride."

I watch as they make their way to their spot.

I cannot bring myself to move an inch from where I was standing as tears coat my cheeks. It was all a betrayal. It was all so much colder than the Northern snow I find myself yearning for. How could they allow this to happen to me? How could my-

"Go to him."

I turn to my side, finding Daemon's face as he repeats, "go to him."

Before I know it, I am standing behind my father who had just caught his breath from the coughs he started.

Cregan calls my name once he notices me, and this causes Rickon to turn over his shoulder and make me grind my teeth.

"You fool," I mutter bitterly, "you old, fucking fool."

Cregan places a hand on me. My father calls my name, and it brings me to my knees. I grab onto his cold and thin arm, thinking how it felt nothing like the hand that guided me in my youth.

"Do not waste your tears on this old, fucking fool, daughter."

I look up to him and see tears on his face. I shake my head, "papa," I whine, "don't do this to me. You can still take back your word."

"Sister, that is enough," Cregan hushes.

Rickon places his other hand on my head and sighs, "he does not deserve you," he inhales, "that much I agree."

"Then make this right! Release me-"

"So make him deserve you," he catches my chin, "make him as loyal as your wolf," he coughs twice, "or feed him to Havoc yourself."

Our father rattles out into another fit out coughs.

Cregan pulls me to my feet and sighs. He pulls me to the side yet the sound of coughing does not fade. "He has only worsened since you've gone."

I suck in a breath and will my tears away.

"I pray you release your grudges, before it's too late."

I scoff, "easy for you to say when everything is easy for you, brother," I push his hand off me, "you are the heir, you are in charge."

He calls my name in frustration, "you know damn well that is not what I meant."

"Worry not," I scoff in annoyance, "I will do as our father instructs," I turn to the said man, "as always. I will make him as loyal as Havoc," I gulp, turning to the prince who was already looking at me, "or feed him to her myself."

Cregan watches as I storm all the way back to my seat.

The rest of the events are a blur, the toast, the ceremony, the merrymaking I was clearly not a part of.

But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I could now feel Havoc's warmth against me. She had nearly tackled me to the ground when we were reunited. She felt my heartache and whined with me as I emptied my sorrows on her fur.

Though she spoke no words to me, she provided the best comfort I could ever ask for. Havoc and I have been bonded ever since she was born. She knew nothing but me and I knew nothing but her.

And so when she began to snarl, I felt her protectiveness in my bones.

I turn to the direction of her anger and see my husband still in his spot.

"You are wise not to tread any nearer," I mutter to him as I stand to my feet. Havoc stands beside me. I command her to stand down and lie on her belly. She is reluctant but obedient.

Daemon places his hands behind his back, "I hope you know that it was a mistake for them to bring her to the dragon pit."

"I am not a fool, I would not bring Havoc anywhere near your-"

"I will introduce Caraxes to her slowly," he cuts me off, "though I confess, I do not know how he would react."

I tilt my head to him and measure his words, "and why would you do that?"

"Because she belongs to wife," he spokes as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

When he stretches his hand out to me, Havoc reacts with another snarl.

"Enough, Havoc," I command her, placing a hand on her snout, making her soften her warning sounds.

"Would you introduce me to her?" the prince asks, hand reaching out to me.

I feel a pit in my stomach. There a loud voice was screaming loudly in disagreement, screaming to allow Havoc her carnal desire. Yet the voice of my father rings in my mind, 'make him loyal'. At the same time, the feeling of Daemon's gentle touch as he kissed me after our vows plays in my head.

I turn to Havoc, back to Daemon, and step once so I could reach the prince's palm. Once I have him in my grip, Havoc begins to snarl loudly again. I scold her and pull Daemon behind me. I ignore the way my stomach drops when his other hand rests on my waist. Though the touch is uninvited, I do not fight him off for the sake of keeping Havoc calm.

I place my hand atop Daemon's and link my fingers in his then place his palm on my wolf's large, furry head.

Havoc does not appreciate it, I can feel it. And yet, she does nothing but snarl as she feels Daemon's hand on her.

"He is my husband, sweet girl," I hush her, placing my other hand on her back, "you will not eat him."

Daemon chuckles, then presses closer behind me. I feel my body ignite when his chest meets my back.

He proceeds to speak in another tongue, and to my surprise, Havoc tilts her head at him and dampens her threats.

"How did you do that?" I mutter, turning to him as well.

Our faces nearly touch when I do, and I make sure not to start, lest I trigger the direwolf.

"My blood runs with magic she recognizes," Daemon mutters, violet eyes peering down at me. My breath hitches when his hand brushes to my belly, "I do not doubt Caraxes will recognize the same in yours."

I turn away from him and pull my hand out of his. I then push him away just as Havoc finally ceases her growls altogether and begins to pant.

I release a sigh and turn to my beloved wolf, "good girl," I praise, grabbing her large face.

Daemon chuckles behind me, "you treat her like she is merely an overgrown pup."

"Well, she is," I say, turning over, finding the prince's soft expression, "and yours is an overgrown lizard."

He tilts his head, "I have not met a lizard who breathes fire."

"I wonder why you look any further," I pull away from Havoc to look at the vast chamber, "so, tell me. If not here, where then shall I keep her?"

He shifts on his legs, "your chambers would be large enough, would it not?"

I narrow my brows, "my chambers?"

He chuckles, "well I cannot force it to be our chambers in the face of your beast now, can I?"

I scoff at this and whistle, making Havoc stand.

Daemon does not break eye contact with me as I walk over to him. I move past him though and beckon my wolf to follow, "I appreciate your candor, prince husband. Perhaps I shall not commit treason after all."

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 30/?)

Chapter 30: Where the Skies End

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • 29 • 30 • more coming soon

[ You can also read on AO3 ]

Unsurprisingly, and much to your frustration, Connor had finished the move without you. There might not have been much left to move at that point; but, it was your stuff at a house that you rented, and not Connor's responsibility in the slightest.

But, there was no telling the android that, and you knew that he would have been well equipped with plenty of reasons as to why he could handle the rest of the move alone: you needed rest, he didn't require sleep, etc, etc.

When you stepped off the elevator into the android's - and now your - apartment, Connor had a look on his face, as if you had come home for the first time in years. You had only spent a week at Hank's place, and only a day and some odd hours at the hospital prior to that, and Connor had been nearly inseparable from you the entire time; yet, it felt like ages since you had been here.

It was only then that the weight of your near death experience became apparent. Before, your life, or the loss of it, wouldn't have impacted anyone else. It was just you in that little house, trying to make a living, picking up the pieces of a war and watching humanity change astronomically.

Now, there was a life that would be changed if you were gone. You let yourself imagine how Connor would cope, what would become of him, and struggled to keep the sorrow to yourself.

Perhaps, for the first time in your life, you knew what it was like to be needed.

Your wound healed remarkably in the weeks that followed. The scar left behind was star shaped and your skin was darkened around the sunken surface. But, you didn't find yourself hating it as much as you thought you would.

It wasn't something you looked at with pain or regret, but rather something prideful. Maybe there was something masochistic about it, not that you found yourself bothered by that realization.

Your coworkers thought it looked 'pretty cool' and declared that it made you 'quite the badass'. Now, you could wear the badge of 'I've been shot', with a bizarre story to tell. You didn't care if people thought it was strange, letting yourself get shot for an android.

Connor was much more than 'just' an android. He was the man you loved, who carried an astronomical burden you could barely understand. Sure, you could judge the weight, the pressure; but, you, an ordinary human, couldn't possibly understand what he felt as the target of a revolution that would change humanity forever.

The thoughts became clearer as you and Connor stepped into Haven for the last time, and you took in the emptiness, the quiet, and the cold.

"One moment," Connor advised you, stepping away and into the open space in the center of the room.

RK800, like all androids, had no true sense of temperature. Connor couldn't feel cold the way humans did. His artificial skin wasn't going to prickle with goosebumps and his muscles wouldn't shiver from the discomfort.

His HUD could report the weather if he enabled it and he had various feedback modules to inform him of how the temperature would affect a human, with the rightful assumption one would be in his presence.

Yet, despite this very well known limitation of his being, Connor couldn't explain how he managed to feel so cold as he stood there in the very abandoned Haven.

He was aware that warmth could be metaphorical, symbolic of belonging and comfort. His sense of cold was both literal and figurative in this sense. Without any machines running, all the lights turned off, Haven had become very cold. The halls, once busy with androids, were now empty, and the building was silent if not for the creaking walls.

-until someone walked through the distant corridor, their quiet footsteps rattling in Connor's acute hearing module.

There was an apology on the tip of Connor's tongue when he caught the sight of Markus. However, the RK200's stare wasn't cold or untrusting. There was something undeniably regretful on his face, conveying sympathy to the fellow android.

Markus' mismatched eyes caught the sight of you over Connor's shoulder, and spared a sad expression.

The two androids had agreed to meet here, for the last time in circumstances like this, hopefully. Once the final bill was passed, and androids would be proper citizens, there would be no need for this.

However, Connor had yet to obtain a definitive lead on Reaves' accomplices. This, at the very least, could provide some security for the androids that came before him.

"I know you didn't want me to," Markus began. "But, I will tell them it's from you. They should know."

"It's... your choice," Connor replied quietly, hoping to mask the uncertainty in his tone.

The two androids took each other's wrists, pushing the fabric of their jackets out of the way to touch skin to skin. Connor knew that Markus trusted him. He took the file without even bothering to scan it first. Only once it was already saved on his local system did he bother to analyze it.

The detective android had worked on that during your recovery week, while he laid beside you in low power mode. He reviewed the log files on his internal firewall over a thousand times, and crafted additional security protocols, specifically designed around write protection. Factory defaults, if he could help it, would be near impossible.

Markus could share this new code with other androids. If Connor failed to stop it in time, at the very least, their memory modules would be protected from brute force attacks, cyberlife certified or otherwise.

As their hands parted, Connor seemed to understand why he felt so cold. He had grown accustomed to how your skin felt - how human skin felt. Even when you weren't acutely aware of it, you were always warm.

"You're one of us," Markus declared, his hand dropping to his side. "We couldn't have done this without you. Your sacrifices need to be known."

"Sacrifices," Connor parroted quietly, doubtful.

He thought about Reaves' disbelief, at how he prioritized saving your life over securing the future of his kind. He could have killed you, carried on the mission, secured all of the chips and brought the android protestors to absolute surrender.

But, he didn't.

Before you, what had he gambled, if not his own life? A life that, by the very words of his creators, didn't exist, was meaningless, just programs executed in succession. He had questioned the very existence of his own life, but so had every android before him.

Still, the determined look on Markus' face didn't falter.

"Until we meet again," he offered, nodding at his fellow android. His eyes landed on yours before he turned away, and you offered him a sad, small wave.

As Connor passed, he took his hand in yours and guided you out of the building with careful steps. It was unnecessary to bring you here, but he understood the importance of goodbyes, and didn't want you to believe your efforts here had been in vain.

You expected to be driven home after that; however, as you climbed into the car, Connor asked, "would it be alright if we went to the park for some fresh air?"

"-'course," you replied softly, shifting your gaze from the android's face to look out the window.

Connor was uncharacteristically quiet during the drive, his hands gripping the steering wheel in a death lock. You didn't pay much mind to it, figuring he was stressed after everything that had happened. You had been the one on death's door; yet, Connor was the one seemingly always on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

It was worrying; but, you knew he needed to work through it in his own way.

At the park, Connor had hoped you would head straight for the bridge, to a place you had cherished so much. If his research was accurate, this needed to be done at a special place. As he followed you slowly up the curve, feet tapping against the boards, a wave of doubt washed over him.

You looked stunning, standing upright for the first time in weeks, with pep in your step, the sun soaking up your hair. Could he really have this? Could he even think himself allowed for such a thing? Could an android truly understand the needs of a human?

"You alright?" you called out to him, pausing before you reached the apex of the bridge.

It snapped him out of his stupor, and Connor replied softly, "I'm fine."

You continued and he followed, counting the steps despite how unnecessary it was. The android knew he had never been this scared in his life. This type of sensation was really, really unpleasant. His processors were giving him ridiculous warnings that didn't pertain at all to the situation.

He shut off the alerts and met you at the top of the bridge. His hand slid over the railing, analyzed the material as a strong timber, coated with a lacquer color called 'cedar brown', manufactured by-

Connor quickly closed the analyzed results, realizing how pointless that was. He was distracting himself, busying his processor with his manufactured purpose to avoid something he was definitely not made for.

At the top of the bridge, you turned to the man standing beside you, just in time to see him deactivate his human skin. His gaze met yours, and you smiled at the sight of RK800, as he was made, without the imitation of human-likeness.

For a moment, he stood there and let the heat of the sunlight catch on his sensor processors. The human tone of his factory issued skin flickered back on briefly before shutting back off, as Connor mentally questioned if he should do it like this.

The sudden nervous expression on his face, and his flickering pallet, had you concerned. In the sunlight, you could catch the subtle flaws in the design of his optics: the faint glimmer of a camera lens hidden beneath the almost perfect human appearance.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you asked, suddenly reaching for him. Your hand fell into the curve of his elbow.

"There's-" Connor began, stopping himself when a jogger passed the bridge. He was silent until they were gone.

"There's something important I need to ask you," Connor explained, his voice quiet and hoarse. "I'm sorry for not being more forthcoming. I was afraid."

Despite the obvious implications of what that question was, your head swarmed with the worst possibilities. The detective android, who had stormed a building of armed men to rescue you, who never hesitated to take a bullet for anyone, was afraid of something?

"Connor," you murmured, his name falling from your lips without purpose. The concern, however, was heavy in your tone.

"Before I ask, you need to know that you can refuse. There is no obligation, despite what we have been through. I won't hold any negative feelings towards you. From my research, this is premature, and I apologize for that," Connor babbled.

"What?" you blurted. "Connor, what are you - what's wrong?" you insisted, pitch rising as you started to panic.

"Nothing is wrong," he replied sharply.

He stepped back, just enough to create a few inches between you. You watched him reach into his coat pocket and pull out a small box. Mind hazy with the aftermath of Reaves' attack, you feared Connor was going to present you with evidence, that the case had taken a dangerous turn, or even inform you with the worst possible news.

But, then, Connor, cupping the small box in his palm, knelt down onto one knee. He looked up at you, brown eyes bright in the sunlight, android skin white as freshly fallen slow, failing to conceal the crease in his brow as worry sank in. The box opened, but you were too focused on his face to bother looking inside.

"Will you marry me?"

You could have laughed, at yourself, really, for thinking he was going to talk to you about Reaves, about factory-resetting computer chips, and the potential downfall of androids.

Instead, you let out a choked gasp. It was pathetically wet and embarrassingly loud. It all came pouring out before you could even think to stop it. Connor's nervous expression melted into panic when you started crying hysterically.

He was shifting to stand up, an apology hot on his tongue. He could feel his processors heating up, threatening to lock up at the sight of your tear-soaked face. It had his internal processes soaring, questioning if he had misinterpreted your relationship, your feelings for him.

You flung yourself into him before he could stand up, knocking the jewelry box right out of his hand. It clattered noisily on the bridge. If Connor was human, he would have followed; but, he was sturdy and, even unprepared, managed to stay upright as you crashed into him. His knees hit the bridge and his hands cautiously cupped your back.

"Yes!" you cried out, pressing your cheek into his coat, some odd centimeters from his thirium pump.

Your arms squeezed at his back, hands clawing into the thick fabric of his coat. Connor was unmoving, stiff where you clung to him. The artificial movements he made to appear more human had ceased, and you briefly feared he had powered down.

"Yes," you declared again, softer this time, squeezing him even tighter.

Finally, his systems relented and he properly relayed to his processor what you had just said. His arms wound around your back and, for the first time in weeks, Connor hugged you tightly, as if he wasn't afraid that he might hurt you. You could feel the tightening of his fingers tugging at your blouse, the thirium pump in perfect beats inside his chassis.

"Yes," you said again.

His cheek fell against your hairline and he closed his eyes. He wanted to dig his fingers past the fabric of your clothes, to feel your skin in a hopeless attempt to interface. Even if he could only reach your body, even if your mind was out of reach, that was good enough.

"Yes," again.

For now, the ring laid forgotten in its case, the jewelry box sitting some odd feet away, flipped on its side.

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young
Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending


Summary: “She’d buried him next to the false hopes and broken promises he’d given her, growing her resentment and longing in the same garden as his missing corpse, taunting reminder of her failure to make him stay. Occasionally, she would revisit his empty tomb and greet his ghost, tormenting him with the same question over and over again; why?”

Chapter two is out! Read on ao3 or under the cut.

“Have you been well, Cha-young?”, the same deep voice she’d missed asks. The ghost that’s been haunting her came back in the flesh.

He hasn’t aged at all, his youthful face still handsome as ever. He’s not smiling per se, but she can tell he’s happy to see her. She gets up and walks away. This couldn’t possibly be happening.

He catches up to her after a few seconds.

“Cha-young-ah. Hong Cha-young. Talk to me.”, he urges her. Suddenly, she can’t control her anger anymore.

“Talk to you?”, she faces him. “You made it extremely clear five years ago that we had nothing to say to each other.”, she screams. His face is unreadable, years apart have made him a stranger. “And now what? You want me to talk to you? You disappeared on me out of nowhere and never looked back so don’t you dare ask anything of me, got it?”

Panting, the anger she thought gone felt just as hot as the day he left her.

“Fuck!”. She’s not done yet. How could he come back like nothing ever happened? He had given her shelter, just to make her homeless. He had made her believe in love and happy endings, built her a castle and set it on fire. She hated him, his stupid hair and his stupid face. “Why are you doing this to me now? I don’t get it. Why now?” She starts crying out of anger, out of frustration, out of exhaustion.

For years now Cha-young had spent all her energy trying to forget Vincenzo and what they could have been. She had fooled herself into thinking she was over him but even after all this time, even when she was this angry at him, all she wanted to do was to touch him. She felt like she’d been cursed by the Gods, condemned to have him in her sight, yet forever out of reach.

She’s shaking now, sobbing. Vincenzo slowly approaches her, his eyes full of anguish.

“Can I please hold you?”, he almost begs as a single tear runs down his cheek. She doesn’t remember a time where he’d sounded this desperate, and she nods, almost against her will.

He wraps his arms around her, her head falls on his chest. She takes a deep breath, filling her nose and lungs with his scent, the one she hasn’t been able to forget. Somehow, she’s crying even harder now and he starts stroking her hair. “I’m sorry,”, he whispers. “I’ve missed you so much.”

She can’t quite convince herself yet that this is not a dream, so she holds him tight, afraid that the ocean will swallow him and turn him into foam.

They stay in each other’s embrace for a while. It could be minutes or hours, Cha-young doesn’t really know. It seems that tonight, on this beach, her grasp on her reality is loosening. Dreams and ghosts come to her in waves, and she can’t help but wonder when the tide will recede.

In the beginning, she dreamt that he would stay with her. Cha-young thought herself strong enough to anchor Vincenzo, yet he had fled and renounced her. Then, she had dreamed of his return, punished to share the fate of a seamen’s wife awaiting her husband’s homecoming.

He had chosen to leave and, until now, had never bothered to come back, and so after a while she had declared him lost at sea. She’d buried him next to the false hopes and broken promises he’d given her, growing her resentment and longing in the same garden as his missing corpse, taunting reminder of her failure to make him stay. Occasionally, she would revisit his empty tomb and greet his ghost, tormenting him with the same question over and over again; why? The ghost stayed mum, mere fragment of a person who had once been alive.

Yet, here he was, the one she had lost at sea, standing in front her. There was no doubt that it was him, alive and well. She felt herself regain control over her emotions and stepped out of his arms.

“You owe me an explanation”, she demands, looking him in the eyes. He nods slowly, his face serious. He is about to speak when she cuts him off, “Not here.” Here, where dreams become reality and prayers were heard. “Take me to your room”.

And so he does. They walk back to the hotel in complete silence, the sea breeze clearing up her foggy mind. They go up to the very last floor and Cha-young almost laughs. Their rooms are exactly a floor apart.

When they get inside, Vincenzo invites her to sit on the couch while he settles for a nearby armchair. The suite is as big as an apartment and the view of the ocean is stunning. It suddenly dawns on Cha-young that he’d probably been living in luxury for the past 5 years, and why wouldn’t he when he was that rich, but the thought annoys her. As petty as it sounds, she had wanted him to be miserable, just as she had been.

“Why?”

The question that had been haunting her hangs in the air for a while, and at one point she thinks he might leave it unanswered.

“That time I ended up staying, I’d managed to take care of the situation in Italy, but it was temporary solution. I needed to come back to save our family from being killed off.” He explained, choosing each word carefully. She could tell he was nervous, his eyes scanning her face, looking for cues.

“That explains why you had to leave, but that’s not what I was asking, Joo-hyung-ah.”

He looks like she’d just slapped him across the face, and she might as well have. She had never called his Korean name in such a harsh tone before. No, this name had been reserved for their most intimate moments, when she made love to him and played with his hair afterwards, as he fell asleep in her arms, when he told her about the few memories he had with his mother, or described his life in Italy with his adoptive parents. It was the first she had used his name as a weapon, and he looked devastated. Good.

He takes a shaky breath and bites his lip, trying to hold back his tears. In that moment, he looks as old as the world and as weak as a child. Although it pains her to look at him like this, she shows no compassion. This man had destroyed her and she would hold him accountable.

“I left without telling you because I didn’t trust myself to go through with it.”, he finally manages to say after a while. “I had to leave but I just couldn’t bring myself to let you go.”

“You’re a coward, Mr. Cassano.”, she spits out his name, hoping the formality of it would hurt him too.

“I know.”

“Why did you have to leave me? I get that you needed to go back, but why did you have to leave me too?” Cha-young tries to stay as calm as possible, but it proves difficult when she keeps blurting out her most vulnerable thoughts. She feels defenceless against him, but it is the only way she’ll get the answers she needs.

“Turns out the situation was even worse than what Luca had told me, and I wasn’t sure any of us would get out of it alive. You didn’t deserve to have to wait for me indefinitely.”

“So dropping me out of the blue was the best solution you came up with? That’s the only thing the great Vincenzo Cassano, one of the best masterminds in the game, could think of?” Her words are met by silence. “Guess what, genius? I still waited years for you. How was I supposed to get closure when you just disappeared? Wouldn’t you, out of all people, know what it feels like to be abandoned?”

It was a low blow, she had to admit, but she was past that. She needed to bring him to his knees, she needed to shatter him, she needed to break his heart.

“The truth is, I thought—I thought I was freeing you. From me, from my sins.” He’s not looking at her anymore, head hanging down, tears falling onto the ground. She compels her heart to look away, just this once, to not care for him.

“And who do you think you are? Do I not get to decide for myself?”, she’s almost screaming again. Everything that was coming out of his mouth sounded ridiculous to her.

Of course, she had imagined this confrontation countless of times, coming up with all the possible reasons he would use to justify what he did, but none of them mattered. None of them were enough to appease her, to undo what had been done. Nothing would ever repair what he’d broken and they’d never be the same again.

“I have no excuse, tesoro.” She hears the plea in his voice.

“Don’t call me that.” He looks at her, visibly in pain.

It was bizarre, seeing him like that, so hesitant, so vulnerable, so scared.

She realises it at once; she’s witnessing his fear for the first time. She hadn’t been able to spot it at first but there it was. He’d allowed her to see his anger, his sadness, his unfiltered joy but he’d never been afraid in front of her. Vincenzo was scared to mess this up, scared to loose her again. She had to hold back a smile.

“Did you follow me here? Don’t lie to me.” She demands, reinvigorated by her newly found confidence.

“I’d never lie to you.” She rolls her eyes at that. “I landed in Seoul two days ago, but Mr. Nam told me you’d be spending the next few weeks here, so I hopped on the first flight I found. Meeting you here, tonight, was an accident. I didn’t know which hotel you were staying in.” He looks to his right, suitcase opened on the floor, near the bedroom’s entrance.

“Why are you here, Vincenzo?”, she’s trying not to let her emotions seep through her words, to remain distant. But he knows her well, and she can tell by the way his eyes suddenly look at hers that he hears it, the part of her that wants him to answer “For you, I’m here for you.”.

“To repent. I’m here to repent, Cha-young-ah.”. His words carry the same certainty they once did, his tone the one of a fearless man. Her heart threatens to leap out of her chest.

“Do I look like a fucking church to you?”, she forces out a laugh she hopes sounds bitter. Not letting him time to reply, she gets up from the couch, feeling dizzy. “Right, I’ve heard enough. Goodbye.”

She can’t tell if he calls her name or goes after her but she’s out the door before she knows it. She runs down the stairs, gets into her room and heads straight in the shower. The water’s freezing cold, but she finds comfort in not being able to feel the tears streaming down her face.

She tucks herself into bed, confused about whether she’d rather wake up from this nightmare or continue to live this dream.

[doctenwho]

Not a Cat Person

Summary: On a night stroll through the streets of London, Reader comes across a small, abandoned cat who wants nothing more than a home. The problem is, The Doctor is not a cat person. Besides, The Doctor’s no stranger to his companions talking him into things.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3,783

*Gif is not mine, credit to creator*

As much as you liked exploring the galaxy with The Doctor, and seeing things beyond your wildest imagination, you couldn’t deny that it wasn’t nice to return to earth, your earth, every once and a while.  

You loved the TARDIS, and you loved seeing everything the galaxy had to offer, and meeting new and exotic people. There was so much you loved about your travels, and, well, things you could do without as well. You could do without the near constant threats, and attempts on the Doctor’s life, but, well, it was a bit of excitement ever so often.

Besides, what’s a little bad hidden in with all that amazing, right?

All that said though, there was just something calming about being on your home planet every so often. Where you weren’t constantly afraid something was plotting to kill you, or kidnap you, or arrest you, or try to poison you—and the list could go on.  

You didn’t have to rely on the Doctor, in fact, he relied on you a bit whenever you were on earth. He liked to trust the locals, and on earth, that’s exactly who you were. As strange as that was to think about.  

It was just nice to have a bit of a relax whenever you were on earth. Take the Doctor shopping, or home to see your folks and family. He didn’t like getting too attached to anyone, but he was always nice, and funny whenever around people you like and know.  

You just liked showing him a bit of normal, everyday, human life.  

And he enjoyed it for the most part. He was actually fascinated by it. He trusted you completely, and followed blindly behind so long as nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  

It was a two-way street, trusting the Doctor. He always gave back everything he received and so much more. He was one of the most genuine people (aliens?) you’d ever met.  

Today was no different than any other landing on earth, well, besides the almost crash landing.  

The Doctor had promised the TARDIS was perfectly alright and that she just needed a bit of a cool down before the two of you continued on to the next biggest and greatest thing the Doctor had found for the two of you to enjoy together.  

He’d opted to stay in and do a bit of fixing up, while you’d gone out to stroll around for a bit. It wasn’t ideal, because you still, even if you didn’t really need him, wanted him around just because he’s become a constant in your life. It was far better walking around earth with the Doctor, rather than by yourself.  

The Doctor had parked the TARDIS in an old alleyway behind your flat. No one usually came around, so the TARDIS would be safely hidden away while it charged up from all the travelling the two of you had been doing. You’d barely ever gone down this alley way the whole time you’d lived in the building beside it, and you knew it was common knowledge people tended to avoid it for one reason or another.  

You’d left the time and space machine in the capable hands of the Doctor, though you’d wished he would’ve joined you for a bit of human life exploration while the two of you were here. He’d been coming to earth for a lot longer than you’d existed, but there was always something new the Doctor would find amazing even on a simple walk around in the dead of night.  

The blue police box doors had shut behind you, your light source being shut away with them. You hadn’t planned to wonder off far alone. You hadn’t really planned on even leaving the alley way, just sitting outside and getting a bit of London air.  

It was nice breathing in your own planet’s air. It probably wasn’t much different to any other planet’s air supply, but it always felt more refreshing knowing it’s yours.  

You moved slowly along the openness of the alley, frowning thoughtfully at your dark surroundings. The closer you got to the main road, the easier it was to see with the dull lighting of the streetlamps that the government had opted out of putting in alleyways like the one behind your flat.  

There was a corner curb on the junction between the alley leading off and the main road, so you sat for a moment. The roads were baren at the early hour in the morning. It would be another hour or two before even the earliest shifts started.

It was peaceful; you could see some stars in the clouded skies, but it did not do justice to actually seeing the stars up close. The Doctor really had ruined earth star gazing for you—nothing could top actually being up there.

You drew your attention away from the sky only when something moved. You paused abruptly, pulling your legs in as something across the street moved. A can rattled along the pavement.

Your first instinct was to get up and move away, preferably to the TARDIS and the safety of the Doctor. You’d gotten quite used to that mindset throughout your adventures, the mindset that constantly reminded you that not everything was safe on your travels with the Doctor. You couldn’t trust things, you never knew what it could be, or what it could do—but then you remembered where you were.

Earth.

You knew earth. Quite well, in fact. You’d lived here your whole life; knew the ins and outs.  

The worst whatever was hiding behind the bin could be was a rodent, or some kind of urban wildlife. You almost laughed at yourself, being frightened of a rat, or something like that hiding out behind a bin.  

You let your legs fall back to a natural position on the curbside, deciding that whatever was back there, you could handle. It wasn’t really a threat—nothing like another planet could throw at you anyway. There wasn’t much harm the wildlife around here could do, beside tearing into rubbish bags, and scurrying at you to try and scare you away.  

The can rattled once more, and then it was rolling towards you. And following it, was a cat.  

The cat froze suddenly, noticing you sitting there, it’s can sitting at your feet.  

The cat was small, and mangey looking. It had bright green eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the night. It’s fur, midnight black, with patches of white, camouflaged with the shadows it was hidden in.

It didn’t hiss, or cry, or meow at your presence. It didn’t move to back away, or even really look bothered in the slightest.  

“Hi, kitty,” you whispered after a second, seeming to break the small, skinny feline from its trance. The cat made a little ‘purr’ noise before sauntering towards you and rubbing up against your shoes.  

Up close, in the light from the street lamp across the street, you noticed the mats in the cat’s fur. It had medium length fur, not really a long hair, but also not a regular short haired either. Its ears were perked up as it made little noises in your direction.  

It seemed happy to see a person, an abandoned family pet perhaps. It wasn’t the first time you’d come across a cat left in an alleyway when it wasn’t wanted anymore, but it still broke your heart. 

It was friendly enough when you reached over to let it sniff your hand, before it nudged your palm and nuzzled into your fingers.  

“You’re lovely,” you whispered to the cat. The cat tilted it’s head, almost as if trying to understand you before knocking it’s head into your palm again, seeking more affection.

It appeared to have been alone for quite some time, nothing but matted fur and skin and bones.  

“Are you hungry, little guy?” the cat meowed, quiet and scratchy, pawing at the lace on your shoe before standing up and rubbing against your shoes again. “Alright, alright,” you laughed, standing up and bending down to run a hand along the cat’s back, “I’m sure the Doctor will have something you’d like.”

You started walking back in the direction you’d come, unsure if your new friend would follow. To your surprise, it did. The cat swapped between sprinting to catch up to you, and sauntering beside you on your walk back to the TARDIS.

It made cute little noises as he moved, purrs and huffs, almost like it was irritated you were faster than it.  

You couldn’t help but love the little guy’s personality. You’d seen cats before—watched cat videos, hung out with friends who had cats, even occasionally stopped in the days before meeting the Doctor to call out to stray, or outdoor cats you passed by, but you’d never really seen one as friendly as the one on your heels.  

When the TARDIS finally came into view, you moved quickly to the doors and pulled them open.  

The cat hesitated outside the doors for a moment as you stepped through, then shot in behind you before you could close it out. You hadn’t meant to bring it in.  

You didn’t know how the Doctor would react to that.  

You had really meant to close the cat out, grab a can of something the cat would eat (if the Doctor even had anything of the sort) and feed it outside had it stuck around.  

You shifted your eyes around the console room, then snapped your attention back to the suddenly cautiously moving cat. It was empty besides the two of you.

The Doctor was not in the console room. You knew he was in the TARDIS somewhere, or else the doors would’ve been locked. Plus, he’d never just leave with you outside. He always made an effort to find you and inform you if he were doing something outside the TARDIS.

The cat walked along the metal grating on the floor, sniffing and exploring slowly, a bit more anxious than it had been outside, which was expected. You’d been anxious when the Doctor had brought you into his bigger on the inside box as well.  

“Come along,” you called the cat softly, walking down a hallway to where you knew the kitchen would be. The cat trailed along, maybe understanding, or maybe just afraid to be alone in this new place.  

You find exactly what you were looking for in the kitchen, a can of tuna fish. It was buried deep in the back a cupboard, certainly obtained before you started travelling with the Doctor. Maybe one of his previous companions enjoyed a tuna fish sandwich or something.  

You opened the can, and instantly the cat was walking circle around you, rubbing against your legs and meowing desperately at you. You shushed it, dumping the cans contents onto a plate and managing to move to the table the Doctor and yourself ate at without accidentally stepping on the feline.  

As soon as the plate was low enough for the cat to get at, it was eating. It was starving, desperate for food.  

You sat back in the chair as the poor little guy annihilated the plateful of fish. You were a bit worried the cat was going to choke with how fast it was eating.  

“(Y/N)?” the Doctor’s voice called, voice carrying through the hallways, “do you have fish? The whole place smells of fish,” he continued to speak, voice getting closer. Only a moment later the man was stood in the doorway, staring at you with his nose wrinkled, “you know, I didn’t know you fancied tuna fish--” he paused, studying you and your lack of fish before he sniffed, and his attention dropped to the cat licking the plate clean, “what is that thing doing in my TARDIS?”

“It followed me in,” you explained, waiting to see what would happen. “It’s very nice.”

“Is it?” the Doctor furrowed his eyebrows cautiously as he sidestepped into the kitchen, avoiding the cat and moving to stand beside you. “It looks mad.”

“It’s not,” you promised, “that’s just how cats are.”

“Not the cats I know,” the Doctor snorted, “still, what’s it doing in my TARDIS? Why did my TARDIS even let a cat in? Earth creatures are still creatures, they’re not supposed to be here. Not without my consent anyways.”

“Maybe she likes it?” you offered, standing and swooping down to pick up the finished plate as the cat licked its lips, then its paw to wipe at its face. “She liked me too.”

“That’s different,” the Doctor waved you off, “why have you brought a cat back here?” The Doctor repeated as if he honestly couldn’t understand your thought process, “you leave on your own for a half-hour and you return with an earth creature.”

“It was hungry, Doctor. It’s a stray, all skin and bones.”

“It looks feral,” the doctor frowned, “how do you know it’s not diseased or,” the man whipped out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the cat, scowling when nothing unusual came up, “I don’t know, what do earth cats even do?”

“What do non-earth cats do?” you retorted with a frown.  

“Experiment on humans and run hospitals,” the Doctor scowled, “what-bout that thing?”

“Seriously?” you wrinkled your nose in disgust, trying to decide whether he was being serious or trying to prove some sort of point. He gave a short nod, crossing his arms across his chest and scowling at cat on the floor. It had curled into a little ball, snoozing soundly now that it had been fed. “Earth cats mostly just eat and sleep,” you explained, “they’re companions to us, like dogs and other pets. I guess in a sense, I’d be like your cat.”

“You’re not a cat,” the Doctor frowned, almost looking offended on your behalf.

“You know what I meant,” you rolled your eyes. “Cats aren’t that bad,” you shook your head moving over to kneel beside the small sleeping animal, “it’s really friendly, see?” You ran your hand along the cat’s back and instantly the room was filled with soft purrs.

“That’s just unnatural,” the man commented, face twisting as if he’d eaten a slice of lemon. “I don’t like them.”

“It’s just purring,” you scoffed, “it means that it’s happy here.”

“Oh, great,” the Doctor gave a fake cheer, tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, it ate, it’s... it’s napped. It’s time for it to return to its home.”

“It doesn’t have one. It’s a stray, Doctor.”  

You paused, fingers continuing to scratch through the cat’s fur, snagging on mats. You turned to the Doctor with a widening smile, waiting for him to turn his displeased look from the cat to you. When he did catch your eye, the man’s face scrunched up, “no,” he said, “absolutely not.”

“Awh,” you pleaded, “come on, Doctor. It’s got nowhere to go. It lives behind a bin. Look how happy it is here...”

“No,” he repeated, “no cats. I really don’t like cats, (Y/N).”

“Space cats maybe,” you pouted at him, “it’s just a harmless little earth cat. You like helping people, don’t you? So, help.”

“People,” the doctor repeated, he was already starting to break, you could tell. The Doctor had a soft spot for each and every human companion he had, and you had a soft spot for animals, “I like helping people.”

“You like helping creatures,” you mended, knowing the Doctor couldn’t argue there. Not everything he helped was considered a person, “you’ll help anyone who needs you. And this, it’s a helpless little creature who’s been living off bin scraps.”

“And not well,” the Doctor snarked, distastefully eyeing the skinny feline now half in your lap.

“Exactly,” the Doctor eyed you thoughtfully as you spoke. You couldn’t help but grin as the man turned his attention back to the cat, his eyes softening just a little bit, “it’ll starve if we leave it...”

The Doctor’s stern façade broke slightly, and he sighed, reaching a hand up to run through his hair. He glanced over at you before sharply looking away as if seeing your face would be his final breaking point.

He didn’t say anything for a second, but you knew you won. You continued on, just to seal the deal, “’sides, the TARDIS likes it, Doctor. You’re not going to deny your TARDIS of a friend, are you? The cat will be here to keep her company while we’re out. She’ll never be lonely.”

“Now you’re just playing dirty,” the man gave another heavy sigh. “Fine... you can keep the bloody cat.”

You grinned, opening your mouth to thank the man, “but,” he accentuated loudly, cutting you off before you’d even started, “you’ve got to give it a bath. It’s filthy, and I don’t want it trekking mud all over the TARDIS. And, it’s not to go anywhere near the console room, last thing we need is to lose an earth cat on a non-earth planet-”

You opened your mouth once more to try and get a word in, but the Doctor continued on so you snapped your mouth closed and listened, “and don’t expect me to like it. Because I don’t. It’s here because you like it, and I suppose because the TARDIS likes it too, or it wouldn’t even be in here in the first place. I’m not a cat person, alright?”

“Done, and deal,” you agreed quickly, leaving the cat on the floor and standing to wrap the Doctor in a tight hug. He returned it easily, just as he always did when you showed him any affection. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Uh huh,” he sighed, the fight leaving him. He leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek to show he wasn’t that upset or put out by the idea of the cat staying in the TARDIS.

----

You spent most of that morning bathing and grooming the cat. He, you discovered, didn’t put up much of a fight, besides the regular ‘cat no like water’ fight. He seemed to enjoy being brushed, even as you picked patches of matted fur from his body.  

By the time you were finished, he was all brushed and cleaned. His fur was a silky soft texture and was a bit longer than you’d assumed when meeting the feline. He was honestly a beautiful tuxedo cat when he was all groomed, and he had the personality to match. He was a bit quirky, and full of attitude—which reminded you of a certain Doctor just down the hall in the console room, who was probably pouting that he’d been unable to resist giving in to one of his companions again.  

The cat was still super skinny, and would need to be fattened up to a healthy weight, preferably with actual cat food—but the remainder of the tuna would work until you could talk the Doctor into an earth grocery shop.

The Doctor, all groans and protests, managed to find an old plastic box in a storage room that he dumped the contents (old relics) out of and filled with samples of sand he’d collect from the Sahara Desert decades ago to analyze, to make a sort of make-shift litter box.

It wasn’t great, but it would do for a couple days until you could talk him into that shop visit.  

All in all, the cat seemed perfectly content in the TARDIS, and you’d even seen him rub against the Doctor’s shins much to the man’s disapproval.  

----

It was three days later that you were looking for the cat to feed, when you walked into the console room only to find the Doctor laying on the seat in the console room, the cat snuggled into his abdomen and the Doctor’s nimble fingers stroking his soft fur.  

You were a bit surprised, considering how against keeping the cat the Doctor had been. But it was adorable to see the man cuddling the feline as he was.

“Ohh,” the Doctor lazily looked in your direction, hearing your approach, “good morning, (Y/N).”

The Doctor paused, blinking up at you in though before hooking his fingers in a collar that was around the cat’s neck that hadn’t been there before. You studied the strap of blue around the cat’s neck, it didn’t appear to bother him. “I’ve made him a collar and a pet tag—that is what humans do with household companions, right?”

For a moment, the Doctor looked unsure. Something you didn’t see often. “Yeah, I mean, yes, we do. Collar and tag, good call.”

“Good,” the Doctor nodded, more to himself than you. He continued stroking the cat, hand brushing over the cat’s head to his back, “if he’ll be joining us, and he happens to get lost, my sonic screwdriver be able to track that tag. I don’t lose companions... cats included.”

You stepped towards the man with the cat curled into him, and lightly picked up the tag hanging from the new collar, you pulled it just enough so you could see an engraving on the front of the tag, without disturbing the content cat. Return to the Blue Public Use Police Box if found. was engraved in the address spot on the back of the tag. The name spot on the front remained blank, waiting for the cat’s undecided name.

“Return to the TARDIS?” you asked, smiling widely. If you didn’t know the Doctor you would’ve thought he was blushing at the mention.

“Well, I, uh...” the Doctor looked down at the cat staring up at him, “too much? I can change it to your apartment, I just thought, well...”

“That address won’t help if he gets out on another planet,” you agreed, thumbing over the engravement. “I like it.”

“Really?” the Doctor grinned brightly, “right then.”

You watched the man readjust himself so he was sitting up right, the cat barely stirred at all as he was transferred to the man’s lap. You smiled thankfully at the Doctor as you moved to sit beside him.  

You leaned back, grinning to yourself. You didn’t say anything for a moment, just watching the other’s hand card through the cat’s fur.

“Don’t expect me to like it,” you murmured in a poor imitation of the Doctor from just a few days before. “Because I don’t,” you continued to tease.  

“Yeah, yeah,” the Doctor snorted, lightly shoving his shoulder against your own without disturbing the cat. The corner of the Doctor’s mouth curled up into a smile before he attempted to even it as he huffed a light, “Shuttup.”

You laughed to yourself, leaning against the Doctor and reaching over to pet the cat, “anyways, have any name ideas for him, Mr not-a-cat-person?”

<><>

Ten is that guy who says no way to a pet cat and then the next week after getting said cat anyways, the cat is his best friend and you can’t change my mind. Also, prompts very welcome and very appreciated! :D

[floral-and-fine]

Stitched Together part 1

The creature/Adam x fem reader

Frankenstein AU/ Modern Frankenstein

Warnings: brief mention of suicide, death, and body horror (a little)

Summary: The reader is a mortician and a friend of Victor Frankenstein. After receiving a strange message from Victor, the reader finds herself with a lot of unanswered questions and a new roommate.

A/n: Yay! I wrote something! Sorry I didn’t finish the drawing, but I’m satisfied with it, mostly, lol. Anyways, I’m pretty excited about this story. Enjoy!

Tags: @rusticup​ @luna-xial​

This was insane, in fact, it was by far the craziest stupidest thing you had ever done in your life, but here you were standing out in the rain, in the middle of the night, with no flashlight trying to pick a lock. 

Yes, technically you were breaking and entering, but you had to know if Victor was alright. Rationally, you probably should’ve called the cops, but you weren’t exactly thinking rationally right now. For all you knew, he could be laying on the floor, clinging to life somewhere in his lab. 

God, you were going to feel like an idiot if everything was fine and you were just overreacting.

You blinked in surprise when you heard the lock finally clicked. 

Pushing the door open, you gasped as you entered Victor’s lab, immediately upon entry you were assaulted by a foul stench. Using your shirt, you covered your nose and mouth. 

It was too dark to make out anything, except for the occasional flash of lightning that lit up the room for a brief second. 

“Victor?” You called, feeling along the wall until you found a light switch. However, after flipping the switch nothing happened. 

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath. With shaky hands, you reached into your pocket taking out your cell phone. 

The small light didn’t reach far, only illuminating a couple of feet in front of you, but at least you could see a little.

His ‘lab’ was an old warehouse he was renting. Why he needed such a large space was beyond you. Victor was very secretive of what he was working on, deflecting your concern with vague answers. Very few people were even aware that he was renting this place to use for his experiments. 

With your small light, you scanned the area nearest to you. 

The warehouse was an utter disaster. There were notes with anatomical drawings littered everywhere, furniture tipped over, and broken shards of glass scattered on the ground. 

From the state of his lab, you could safely assume it had been abandoned. It appeared as if Victor left in a hurry, or as if it had been ransacked. 

Neither option gave you much comfort and just brought you more worries. This warehouse, those drawings, all the notes were Victor’s life work, and his work meant everything to him. 

From the moment you met him, all he seemed to care about were his studies. He spent all his time here, rarely slept, and only left for absolute necessities. He even lost the lease on his apartment, so he could continue to afford the rent for the warehouse. 

“What the hell happened?” You whispered to yourself. What had Victor been up to? Why did he disappear? Where was he now?

...

Victor had become an acquaintance of yours through a mutual friend. 

You were a local mortician who lived near the university your friend was attending. You often mingled with various professors and graduate students, because of it. 

Victor had been part of a graduate program to become a doctor before he dropped out. Amongst his colleagues, Victor was known for his peculiar curiosity of death. Upon discovering your friend’s relationship to you. 

Victor practically demanded him to arrange a meeting between the two of you. 

You were able to answer most of his questions, having more expertise on the subject than his peers. At first, his questions seemed innocent enough, but as you continued to get to know Victor the more strange and morbid his questions had become. 

You chalked it up to his youth and his ambition to learn. Not to mention, at the time, you didn’t really question his odd fascination with the subject. 

In all honesty, you almost welcomed his straightforwardness and his interest in your work. So many of the people you met always skated around the subject of your job, or visibly cringed anytime you mentioned the morgue. It was very refreshing to be able to talk about your day without having to worry or freaking someone out.

In a short time, you became friends with Victor. You checked in on him frequently, dropped groceries off at his place hoping he’d take a break and eat something, but 

Then suddenly he fell off the face of the planet. He stopped visiting the morgue. He didn’t return any of your calls. Weeks passed before you received a rather cryptic voicemail from Victor. 

What he said in the message didn’t make a lick of sense, he just rambled on and on about how he had finally figured it all out, that it had to be done tonight, and that it was all thanks to you. 

You had tried calling him back several times but each time it went straight to voicemail. 

...

Letting out a long sigh, you hoped you would find the answers to all your questions. 

Steadily you took a few steps forward, and slowly moved the light your phone provided, scanning your surroundings. You frowned as you stepped in something wet, the squelching sound underneath your foot was rather unpleasant. 

Looking down, you covered your mouth and stumbled backwards. Dropping your phone in the process. 

“Oh God!” On the floor was a pile of discarded limbs in a pool of blood. “What the hell did he do?”

You noticed a familiar tag hanging off of a toe in the pile.

“He didn’t,” you thought out loud. “He wouldn’t...”

You shook your head and closed your eyes tightly. He used you, he got close to you so he could learn about the morgue. God, how did you not realize it? 

A few weeks before, around the same time Victor seemed to disappear, several bodies were taken from your morgue. You reported the break in when you arrived to work the morning after. You couldn’t imagine why anyone would steal bodies. 

Feeling an overwhelming mixture of disgust, betrayal, and stupidity, all you wanted now was to leave this nightmare and report your findings to the police. 

Grimacing, you bent down to pick up your phone wiping the screen off with your sleeve.

Lightning flashed, and suddenly, you heard a loud crash, as if someone had bumped into something metallic knocking it to the floor. Your head whipped around to the direction of the sound, “Hello?”

The silence that followed was somehow quieter than before. You stared out at the vast darkness, waiting for a reply. 

“Victor?” You called, rising to stand. “Anyone there?”

Once again there was only silence. You used the light from your phone as you proceeded to search. 

Your brow furrowed as you discovered various machines you didn’t recognize. They were large, with all sorts of wires, cords, and coils. In the center, was a surgical table covered in blood. 

As you studied the scene before you, from the corner of your eye, you saw movement. Without thinking you pursued whatever it was. 

You managed to corner it, watching as the creature withdrew into the darkness, cowering on the floor.

You shined your light on the shadows to reveal a man huddled in the corner. His legs were pulled up to his chest, his arms curled over his head. 

As you got closer, the man curled further into himself even more, shrinking down as far as he could. He flinched back, shielding his eyes from the light.

“Oh, sorry,” you murmured, lowering your phone. “Is that better?”

Slowly, he moved his arms down. His yellow eyes watched you cautiously, but he gave you no indication as to whether he understood anything you were saying. 

Crouching down to his level, you noticed that he was completely nude. Long strands of greasy black hair hung in front of his face. His skin was pale and sickly looking.

You wrinkled your nose as you noticed the stitches all around his wrists, then the ones on his forearms, shoulders, neck, knees...

Slowly reaching out, your fingertips lightly brushed against his arm, feeling along the stitching. Upon further inspection his skin appeared thin like paper, and almost transparent with a bilious yellow tint to it. Underneath, you could make out clearly, blue and green veins all over his body. 

Your teeth clenched and your stomach dropped, as you started to realize what Victor had accomplished. 

This poor man and those poor people he used for his experiment, they were all victims of the careless ambition of Victor Frankenstein, a foolish boy trying to play God. 

The creature trembled under your lingering touch like a scared rabbit.

“Are you cold?” You asked him, without thinking you stood up faster than the creature cared for, who flinched and shrunk away again due to the sudden movement. 

“It’s alright,” you cooed, reassuring him as you would a scared child. You made a conscious effort to make your movements slow and fluid as you searched for something he could cover up with. 

You spotted a thin white blanket on a cot that was in the corner. You figured Victor was probably sleeping here after he lost his apartment. 

Returning to the creature, you slowly knelt down once more and offered him the blanket, but he remained still. It was unnerving how he kept staring at you, but you doubted he meant you any harm. The poor thing was simply so frightened that you couldn’t hold it against him for being so wary. 

“Here,” you murmured as you gently placed it around him. “Isn’t that better?” 

You smiled, as he clutched the edges of the blanket and wrapped it around himself tighter. 

Slower than last time, you stood up again. “I’m y/n,” you introduced yourself offering him your hand. “Would you like to leave this place with me?”

This was crazy, but you didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t just leave him here alone, he had already been abandoned once in this dark cold warehouse by his negligent creator. You couldn’t do that to him, he seemed so helpless. 

Shyly, he accepted your hand and rose to his feet.

Looking up at him you couldn’t help but gawk. The man towered over you. He didn’t appear to be so large when he was cowering in the corner. 

“We’re going to my house, okay?” You shared with him giving his hand a light squeeze. Still holding his hand, you led the way out and back to your car. He moved awkwardly and walked with a slight limp, so walked at a casual pace. 

Reaching your car, you adjusted the passenger side seat moving it back, to make more leg room so he could sit comfortably.  Helping him into the car, you buckled him in. 

You didn’t say much on the drive. It all seemed so surreal, like you had been dreaming. Even when you arrived home and he followed inside it still didn’t seem real. 

“Home sweet home,” you chirped, opening the front door and turning on the lights. You guided him inside and kicked off your shoes . 

Finally, seeing him under some better lighting, you realized how dirty he was. He was covered in all over with some kind of filth, mostly dirt and blood you assumed, but you couldn’t be sure. 

“You need a bath,” you announced. Walking into the bathroom, you turned on the faucet, allowing the water to warm up before putting in the stopper. 

Once the tub was full, you guided your guest into the bathroom. Gently, you took the blanket from him and discarded it on the floor. 

“Get in,” you gestured to the bath. “It’ll be alright. We just need to get you cleaned up.”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping in and slowly sinking down. He held the sides of the porcelain tub with a tight grip, as if he were to slip he’d drown in this shallow tub. 

You couldn’t help but giggle over how endearing he acted. Getting on your knees next to the tub, you gently started to wipe off the dried blood on his face with a washcloth. 

Despite the discoloration of his skin and the unnerving yellow of his eyes, he was handsome. He had a strong jawline, pouty lips, high cheekbones… you shook your head when you noticed you had been staring, not that he seemed to mind. 

His own eyes were busy moving, looking at everything, taking in all of his new surroundings. It was kind of cute how awfully skittish he was for such a large person. 

You couldn’t imagine what he was going through, or even what was going through his mind. As much as you hated Victor after discovering what he had done, you were still aware that this man was just the product of it, not the cause. He didn’t ask for any of this. 

As you began to wash his arms and chest, that’s when you noticed a familiar scar on his wrist. One of the bodies Victor had stolen was of a young man who had taken his own life. 

It always broke your heart when you had cases like that, not that your job was a happy one and that you didn’t care for the other people who ended up in your care. It was just that you often wondered what sort of pain were they feeling that ending their own life was a better solution. 

You recognized a few more familiar body parts, but what rattled you was how the creature’s face and a few of his other limbs weren’t familiar at all. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to figure out where else Victor could have gathered parts for his experiment. They would’ve needed to have passed away recently, they were probably taken from a nearby location...

You shook your head, none of that mattered right now. The only thing you should be worrying about is this strange man, who was sitting in your tub patiently waiting for you to finish.

Once he was clean, you helped him out of the tub allowing him to lean on you for support so he wouldn't slip on the tile floor. He seemed to still be figuring out how to move correctly, as he kind of moved in a disjointed fashion. 

Grabbing a couple of towels, you wrapped one around his waist, and then led him to your living room and had him sit on the couch. With the other towel, you leaned in front of him and dried his hair, arms, and chest. 

He tilted his head to the side as you dried his face, his eyes focusing on you. Unexpectedly, he caressed your cheek, you lowered the towel and smiled at him. 

“I’ll be right back,” you told him, before getting up and  heading into your bedroom. 

Digging around your closet you tried your best to find anything that would fit him. Sadly, the best you could do for now was letting him borrow your bathrobe. You laid it on your bed, so you could change into something more comfortable. 

Stepping out of your room, your heart almost jumped out of your chest, as you came face to face with your guest, who was waiting patiently outside of your door. 

“Sorry that took so long,” you laughed, recovering from the slight scare. “I found this for you to wear for now. Tomorrow, I’ll try to figure out how to get you some actual clothes.” 

You covered your mouth hiding your smile. The poor dear looked ridiculous. The silk robe barely reached above his knee and the sleeves ended at his elbows, but at least his private bits were covered. 

Now that he was clean and dressed, you wondered what else he needed. Was he hungry? thirsty? Was he bored? 

“Do you need anything?” You asked, knowing there was a good chance you wouldn’t get any kind of response. He simply just looked down at you. 

You bit your lip, as the two of you just sat there in silence, side by side, on the couch. Hopefully, he’ll learn to talk or perhaps find another way to communicate with you. You weren’t sure how long you would be able to care for him if not. 

“Well, I’m feeling a little hungry, so I’m going to get us a snack,” you explained standing up.

He watched your movement and then followed you to the kitchen, similar to what he did earlier when he was waiting outside your bedroom. The creature stood outside of the kitchen and watched as you prepared a couple of cups of tea and grabbed a pack of cookies for the two of you to share. 

You felt a dull ache in your chest as you realized that him following you around, was probably out of fear, scared that you were going to leave him.  

Gently, you placed your hand on his arm and tried to comfort him, “I promise, I’m not going to leave you.”

Carrying your snacks into the living room, you turned on the TV, putting on one of your favorite movies and started eating. The creature sat next to you, and watched carefully as you took a few sips of tea. 

He didn’t seem all that interested in any of the cookies even after you offered him one, but he did pick up his cup and repeated what you had done, including blowing on it before taking a sip. 

You tried to focus your attention on the movie, instead of worrying about the crazy day you just had. This was usually your way of unwinding, having a warm cup of tea and watching a little TV before bed. But your eyes kept wandering over to the creature. 

You frowned at yourself, referring to him as the creature was wrong, even if it was just in your head and not out loud. The poor guy needed a real name.

Resting your chin on your hand, you mulled over different options, making an imaginary list of names, and trying to decide which one suited him best. 

Lost in thought, you were surprised when he suddenly yawned, in fact the action seemed to startle him too. He looked over at you wide eyed, causing you to laugh lightly. He probably hasn’t slept since being created.

“C’mon,” you started, getting off of the couch and taking his hand. “It’s time for bed.” 

You led him into your room. “Here,” you said, pulling back the comforter on your bed. “You can sleep here for tonight.” 

He climbed into the bed, his feet hanging off of the edge. Despite his size, you couldn’t get over how small he acted, how timid and afraid. 

You brushed a few strands of hair away from his face, and caressed his cheek, “Good night, Adam.” You smiled, glad you finally picked a name for him. 

As you started to walk away, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. Adam looked up at you with pleading eyes. 

He didn’t have to say anything for you to figure out what he wanted, since meeting him it seemed that all he wanted was not to be alone again. 

“Oh, alright,” you relented, approaching the bed. “But just for tonight.”

Adam shuffled to the other side making room for you. You crawled into the bed, and turned off the light on the nightstand. 

Laying down, you realized how exhausted you actually were. Before passing out, you felt Adam’s hand finding yours, his fingers curling around it and holding it gently as you fell asleep.

[calciferous-kelpie]

Breaking Young Artists ft. Kirby

So I woke up today at 8AM (which is highly unlike me) with the extreme urge to write about my shitty experiences as a young creator online. I’ve never really talked about this with anyone before, at least not to the extent that I’m going to now. But yeah. Here we go. Yay.

Today we’re talking about the Kirby fandom, but it’s okay if you don’t know shit about Kirby because we’re actually talking about fandom gatekeeping more than anything.

Most of you probably didn’t know I was into the Kirby franchise at one point, and that’s completely intentional. I’ve put that part of my life far behind me, and let me tell you, I don’t look back on it with much fondness, despite the fact that I was in the fandom for years.

Here’s one of the many reasons why!

This is JP. My Kirby fan character from forbidden days no longer spoken of.

“Wait, so JP? Like… Jigglypuff?”

Yes.

“And this was your Kirby fan character?”

Yes.

“Oh.”

Yes.

My lack of creativity should be apparent to anyone who looks at this character. JP’s creation is lazy and self-indulgent. She is clearly the Pokemon Jigglypuff with some minor redesigns who was then shoved into the Kirby universe for no good reason.

When I first made her, I had no real intention of explaining why she was basically just Jigglypuff, but as I continued to develop her, I began to consider what it would be like to explain her appearance—to create a story where Pokemon and Kirby both existed together on, like, different planets in a vast universe. She was going to be half Jigglypuff and half… whateverthefuck you want to call Kirby’s species.

You can still find art of her buried deep in my DeviantArt gallery (as well as 21 chapters of a story I will never, ever complete), but I don’t talk about her anymore. And this is why.

It all happened back around 2010-2012, which meant I was about 12-14 at the time. This was back when DeviantArt was still the main hub for all artists (lmao) and tumblr was still kind of new on the scene. A cool new trend popping up in fandom spaces at this time was the creation of “your oc is terrible” tumblr blogs, which—as the term implies—existed simply to make fun of artists who had crappy characters. They would reupload artists’ works and laugh at how lame or unoriginal their designs were.

These people were trend-setters, making fun of cringe character designs before “cringe” was even a word used to describe them. And before you fall for the fun hipster wording here: no, this did not make them admirable. They were, in fact, assholes.

Some of these blogs liked to pretend they “poked fun” in the spirit of “constructive criticism” but very few of these people actually offered anything outside of insults. (Besides, even if their feedback had been constructive, none of these artists whose work they’d reuploaded had asked for this and probably should have just been left alone.)

You can probably see where I’m going with all of this. My art of JP was uploaded to a couple of these “crappy oc” blogs, and I was ridiculed for having dared to create a thing.

I discovered my art had been taken from my DeviantArt gallery and uploaded to tumblr (a site I didn’t even have an account on at the time) without my knowledge. My signature had been blocked out (to protect my privacy I guess??? lmfao) and my work had been openly mocked for the enjoyment of an audience. People complained about my shitty character, saying that she was literally just Jigglypuff dressed up to look like an OC. They rolled their eyes at her name and her appearance. And in no uncertain terms, I was deemed a bad artist and a bad member of fandom—a warning to other new artists of what to never be.

I wasn’t told any of this to my face, of course, which I guess was supposed to be a blessing. Rather, I had the lovely privilege of discovering that people were mocking me behind my back for their own satisfaction. It could have even been one of my friends who had brought my work up for mockery. I’ll never know.

But let me tell you, there’s not a lot that’s more discouraging than learning people are ridiculing you just out of earshot.

I wish I had had the foresight to take screenshots of the posts these people made. To document the insults and the way I was treated when I asked them to take my art down from their blog. Unfortunately, I don’t have that. I was young and ashamed and just wanted the experience to be over with. But you know what? The receipts don’t matter, anyway.

I don’t need to prove that I didn’t deserve that treatment.

Today, I acknowledge that my character was lame and kind of uncreative. But that certainly doesn’t mean that the people who made fun of me were in the right. I had never claimed to be a brilliant character creator—some great example of unique OCs and unparalleled storytelling. And hell, even if I had done that, it wouldn’t have given anyone the right to stomp on my imagination the way these people did. I was just a kid.

It’s 2021 now. I’m nearly 23 years old, and it’s been about a decade since this happened to me. I haven’t thought about this horrible event in detail for some time, but I need you to understand that even when I’m not actively thinking about this, my life as an artist is affected by it every day.

I’m still ashamed to share much of anything about my characters. I still worry constantly that I’m being cringey, self-indulgent, or a “bad artist.” Some days I manage to create with beautiful, reckless abandon, but then when the dreaming ends, I look back on what I’ve created and fuss, and worry, and doubt. (Ever wonder why you rarely see my work?)

I know the culture around OCs online has improved in a lot of ways since the 2010’s, but I still want to put this message out there. I want everyone to know why this sort of thing isn’t okay. I want my history to be documented so that maybe some new, excited artist doesn’t have to go through what I did.

TL;DR:

Never make fun of someone for having an uncreative or “cringey” character. It’s crappy to do to any artist of any age, but especially if you do this to a kid of all people—a young artist who is just learning the ropes and learning to be creative. This shit sticks with a person, and it can and will inhibit their ability to create amazing things in the future. If you put down an artist for being bad at design or being cringey, you are an awful person.

And to the people responsible for putting my dumbass little timmy’s-first-OC on tumblr blogs to be sneered at and mocked, I mean this will all my heart:

Fuck you! :)

[lordterronus]

Creatorverse Fanfic Chapter Two

Creatorverse – Self Indulgent Stories

Chapter Two – Nobody’s Home

I had no idea where exactly we were going. Somewhere called Creatorverse was the only information I had for sure. Shandy assured me that I would love it there, and that it would be a wonderful place, but as for what it actually looked like, I had no idea. Nor did I know where exactly it was.  

I could tell it was far beyond the strange technicolour void of bubbles I was in before. I had gathered that it was a sort of prison, though how I had gotten myself there, or how Wib appeared still remained a mystery.

“We’re here!” Shandy said, pointing at what appeared to be a large white bubble. It was bigger than any of the previous coloured ones, and somehow slightly unnerving.

“This is Creatorverse?” I asked, my voice becoming very deep. Yet another change I had to deal with. “It’s… not what I expected.” I had imagined something more vibrant, but instead it was looking rather empty. Shandy laughed a little.

“This is just the entrance. It’s a lot better inside, even if it still a work in progress.” She said. I would have tilted my head, but since my head was currently also my body, I instead simply did my best to look confused.

“What are waiting for?!” Lorel yelled. “We have an anime duel to stop!” She raised her hand and displayed her CREATE button. I couldn’t get a good look at it before a large ‘CV’ appeared, accompanied by a glowing yellow portal in the centre of the bubble. I could tell this was our way in.

“Let’s go, before they blow the place up!” Lorel’s words were punctuated by an explosion that was, for some bizarre reason, coloured pink.

“Is that normal?”

“For here? It’s just another Tuesday.”

“Ah.” I said. “That’s concerning.” I didn’t have the time to say anything else before we were suddenly diving into the portal. I had to cover my face from the sudden shift in light. When I removed my hand, however, what I saw was incredible.  

There was still a lot of blank white space, largely in the sky. But there was a large patch of land with a sunset sky and grassy fields illuminated and appearing a deep blue in colour. Strewn around the landscape were buildings of all possible shapes and sizes and around a dozen in the ‘impossible’ category. Some were floating, others appeared submerged in bubbles of water, still others had more ridiculous features, like a series of organised tornadoes instead of a fence.

It was the people that really caught my eye though. Or, my face, I guess? Whatever, they had my attention.

Many of them appeared to be humanoid for the most part, with some exceptions. I saw a surprising number of skeletons wandering around, some even looking vaguely familiar to me for some reason. There were several anthropomorphic animals around, and even some strange, shapeless figures. The variety was astounding.

Suddenly, being a walking question mark with limbs was starting to seem normal.

I didn’t have too much time to take in the scenery before we landed. Shandy gently placed me down on the ground. The scenery appeared in greater clarity to me. The shapeless figures were much clearer and I could see so much further with my cane on the ground again. But I wasn’t so much focused on the sights as I was the feeling.

“What the hell?!” My voice was suddenly as high as a kite as I exclaimed my surprise. There was an indescribable movement flowing through the entire area. It was electric and powerful, and somehow… familiar? I had the feeling of returning home after a long holiday rather than seeing a brand-new place for the first time.

“You feeling it?” Lorel crossed her arms and seemed to smile. “This world is just brimming with creative energy. We call it Motivation. Every one Creator here is worth ten of us out there, sometimes more.”

“She’s in the ‘more’ category.” Shandy grinned at Lorel, who blushed a little and smiled back.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my wife.” Shandy chuckled at Lorel’s remark. Before anyone could speak any further, however, a third voice chimed in.

“WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU TWO BEEN?!”

“Oh crap!” Lorel said. “Shandy, take the newbie and hide!”

“I’m not just going to abandon you!”

“If you hide, you’ll be safe!”

“But what about you?!”

“What is even happening?!” I interrupted with a shrill yell. “Are we under attack? Is it Wib again?!”

“Wib? You mean that Blockhead?” Lorel asked before shaking her head and dismissing the thought. “Never mind, it’s not important. What IS important is you two getting away from-!”

“Away from who?” The third voice interrupted, and Lorel shrieked. I looked towards them, preparing to transform for a fight. They felt intimidating, with a great amount of power and presence. However, they didn’t seem like an enemy in spite of that.

“H-hey Ly! We were… at the bathroom?” Shandy scratched her head nervously. Lorel placed her hand in her palm, seemingly either cringing or hiding amusement. I couldn’t tell from so low down and in my vision limited form.  

“Really? So, I’m guessing that that,” The new figure gestured towards me. “Came from the toilet?”

“Hey!” I said. My voice shifted to a slightly lower pitch than I would have liked. “I take offence to that!” The figure seemed to glance at me briefly in confusion. She – I guessed from the voice and what little I could tell that she was a she – then looked back to Lorel and Shandy.

“It can talk?”

Okay, that was the last straw.

“It’s she, actually.” I said, drawing attention to myself. I took the opportunity to transform into my second stage. I had taken to calling it ‘V2’. I had no idea why, it just felt right. I felt my body growing and expanding, my legs and arms spreading out. My cane matched the growth of my body, as did my hat. My head split into a head and torso, and the limbs adjusted themselves accordingly. At my full height, I seemed to be the tallest person present. My sword seemed to slide out from my new right hand, and I grabbed it by the handle. I lifted it towards the face of the figure.

“And she can do a lot more than talk.”

There was a tension in the air as the figure seemed to glare at me for a moment. I glared back at her. I could see her much more clearly now. She appeared to be a little bulkier than the other people I had encountered. She had short black hair and glasses, set upon what appeared to be a pig’s snout. Her skin appeared to be a reddish pink, and she had the tail of a monkey visible from behind her.

What would a combination between a pig and a monkey be? Monkig? Ponkey? I liked Ponkey.  

“Ly,” Shandy said, stepping between the two of us. “She’s a Creator. Lorel and I had to leave to save her from being imprisoned with a Blockhead.” She explained. The figure that was apparently named Ly glanced over with a raised eyebrow. She was still for a moment, before stepping back and letting out a laugh.

“I see! So that’s where you two were. Running off on adventures without me.” I lowered my sword. She seemed to be friendly, and Shandy and Lorel seemed no longer afraid. I guessed she was just the stern type.

“Well, she’s got spirit. I think I like her!” Ly said, seemingly examining me for a moment. “What’s your name?” She said, speaking to me directly for the first time.

“I…” I hesitated. I still wasn’t sure on my name. “It’s just Nobody, for now at least.” I answered. My sword retracted itself into my arm, and I raised a hand. Ly shook it, and I noticed that she had quite a strong grip. She released my hand, which was now a little sore, and turned to Shandy and Lorel.  

“Glad you had a successful rescue mission,” Ly said, glancing at me for a moment. “But next time, maybe you could give your wife a little more warning.” I looked at all three of them, slightly confused.

“Wait, who’s married to who now?”

“We’re all married to each other!” Shandy excitedly said, pulling Lorel and Ly into a big hug. I chuckled a little at the sight. Lorel seemed slightly cross, but wasn’t objecting to the hug, whilst Ly returned it with equal, or perhaps greater enthusiasm.

“Ah, neato!” I said. Before I could any further words, however, there was a sudden and loud explosion from behind us. I quickly attempted to pull out my Create Button, but Shandy stopped me.

“Calm down,” She sighed. “That’s just Slime and Andrew.” If I had a face capable of the motion, I have no doubt that I would have shown a confused frown. As it was, my face and chest remained a question mark, though briefly switched to an exclamation mark for a second.

“Who and what now?” I said, turning towards the explosion. Standing a small distance away from us, there was a figure who appeared to be entirely pink. They were carrying a sharp sword, and overall, they exuded an aura of fear.

“Oh no, they’ve already gone full pink mode.” Lorel said. I had no idea what exactly pink mode was, but I took it to mean that they were not usually so monochromatic in appearance. A transformation of some kind must have taken place.  

“This has gone on long enough, Andrew!” The pink figure raised their sword in front of them and seemed to smile menacingly. “Why do you insist on this battle? We already know how it will end…” I couldn’t tell if they were trying to threaten this Andrew person, or if they were just tired of fighting. I guessed it was some mix of the two.

After a moment, there was a spinning green tornado of energy that appeared before the pink swordsman. It dissipated, leaving a slightly disoriented looking person with brown hair and square glasses. They were dressed in a green ninja outfit, and held two katanas. Overall, they seemed much more relaxed than the pink swordsman.

“Eh.” The green figure I assumed to be Andrew said. “It’s a good way to introduce our characters.” The pink swordsman, who by process of elimination must have been the one called Slime – not what I expected with that sort of name – growled angrily at Andrew.

“Still speaking in riddles and nonsense.” They took a battle stance. “Perhaps I’ll have to remove your tongue before I can understand your words!”

“Sure, if you think you can.” Andrew seemed very relaxed about this whole affair, as though this was an everyday occurrence. I got the impression from the others that they weren’t wrong in that assumption.  

“They’ve been at it all day.” Ly sighed. “I tried to stop them, but they’re determined to keep going. The number of houses we’ve had to rebuild in the past hour alone…” She looked off, seemingly trying to count. I looked over at Slime and Andrew, who both seemed to have energy radiating off of them like bursts of lightning.

“We have to do something.” I said, determined. The others looked at me curiously. I summoned my sword in my hand and gripped it tightly. “I’m still pretty new here, but I get the impression we shouldn’t really be destroying stuff in a place for Creators.” Lorel grinned at my words, whilst Shandy seemed to shrug.

“Would if I could. I’m unarmed.” She said. I was surprised, but it did make sense. Still, I made a mental note to give her a weapon at some point. I could easily make something, and she was partially responsible for saving my life.

“Lorel? Maybe try shooting some fire at them or something?” I asked. She seemed all too happy to oblige my request, flying into the air quickly and taking a vantage point between the two. She readied her flames. When the two figures charged at each other with their blades, she tossed a blast down.

Or, I assume it was meant to be a blast of fire. For some bizarre reason, she ended up throwing down a sandwich of some kind. It landed on Slime’s hair. I was almost sure I heard a bird tweeting as they looked up to the source of the blast. They grinned.

“Lorel, hi!” They sounded much different than they did when talking to Andrew. Their voice was much more friendly. If it wasn’t for the menacing expression on their pink face, I would have called it wholesome. “Wanna help me beat Andrew some more?”

“Sounds fun, but I probably should’nt-”

“Please.” Andrew said. “I could easily beat you both.” If I had a mouth, it would have flung open, but as it was, I still remained with a question mark, though it flickered between that and an exclamation point.

“Is that a challenge?” Lorel asked, seemingly intrigued. I was torn between anger and panic, as it seemed that now I would not only have failed to stop the fight, but escalated it. I could only hope that Andrew would realise their mistake-

“It is. What are you going to do about it?”

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” I screamed. Andrew seemed to hear me, but no one else reacted. They briefly glanced towards me and shrugged.

“Not my fault a good story needs some action.” They said, only confusing and frustrating me further. I looked to Lorel, who to my surprise, seemed to have coloured herself pink to match Slime.

“Oh, it is on now!” She said. Slime laughed and turned their attention back to Andrew, who seemed somehow pleased with this turn of events. I could only conclude that they had the self-preservation instincts of a goldfish, and a particularly dull goldfish at that.  

“One of you please do something!” I looked to the others. Shandy and Ly looked at each other and shrugged.

“I’m still unarmed.”

“I’ve been trying all day. I’m too tired to fight any more.”

Unfortunately, it seemed that I had no choice but to act myself. Slime charged at Andrew once again, and Lorel dove down from above and followed his path. Andrew readied his blades, but before either of their opponents could reach them, they were blocked by a sword and cane.

“I hate you…” I gritted out, trying to block the two’s strong double assault. Either I was stronger thanks to all of the adrenaline running through my body, or they were holding back. Whatever it was, I was astonished that I was able to hold them off for even a few moments. “So much right now. And I don’t even know you.”

“Don’t be like that, Protagonist.” Was that some kind of nickname for me? I didn’t much care for it. Andrew grinned at me. “Trust me, this is gonna be fun.” In a flash, he had once again become a spinning green tornado of energy. I had no idea how they were doing that, but it seemed very familiar. Maybe something to do with the ninja clothes?

“They managed to force Slime back, and the sudden lack of force allowed me to spin around and strike Lorel with the side of my sword. I didn’t want to do any serious damage here, just stop the fighting. She was launched back, but not by much.

“Ah, a two on two battle!” Slime seemed eager. “Perfect for making my victory all the sweeter!” They laughed ominously. My face and chest went to an exclamation mark and I waved my arms in surprise.

“What? No! That is not what’s happening-!” I didn’t have time to finish, as I had to hastily dodge a fireball from Lorel. I summoned my Create Button to the ground and retaliated with a series of icy spikes that proceeded from the ground to follow her, but she flew up into the air. Andrew was in hot pursuit, using some admittedly impressive parkouring skills to get into the air.  

“Okay, I guess that is what’s happening now.” I sighed. “I miss Wib. They were way more relaxing.” I raised my cane and barely managed to block a strike from Slime. Before I could retaliate, they launched a kick to my stomach. I dropped my cane and fell over. They grabbed my arm and proceeded to try to throw me over their body.

Thinking quickly, I summoned my Create Button onto the ground. As I impacted with the floor, I summoned forth a bolt of lightning. It stung as it travelled through to my sword, but I managed to send the bolt through the metal and blast Slime back.  

“Impressive.” They said. “Before I smite you for this, what is your name?” I grew agitated. I really wished people would stop asking me that. I didn’t have anything I could say. I stood and raised my sword. My legs were a little wobbly without my cane. I supposed this would make for some good practice.

“I’m Nobody.” I said, glaring fiercely at Slime. “And I’m the one who’s going to finish this.”  I didn’t mean to sound so dramatic about it, but I supposed that their excitement was rubbing off on me just a little bit. I charged forth, my sword in one hand and my Create Button in the other.

“Woo!” Shandy cheered, and I turned for a moment to see her and Ly watching from a distance. Ly had managed to get some popcorn.

Unfortunately, Slime took advantage of my distraction, hitting me with the hilt of their blade and sending me flying back.

“Ouch!” Shandy winced. “Sorry about that.” I glared at her.

“You sure you can’t do anything?!” I yelled. Ly placed a hand in front of her and stared at me with a serious expression.

“We’re staying out of this one.” She said. She grinned at me for a moment. “Besides, I wanna see what you can do!”

Was everyone here out of their minds?!  

“I’m starting to regret coming here.” I wasn’t being entirely honest. This was surprisingly very fun. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was desperate to stop all the fighting and destruction here, I might have been enjoying myself a lot more. Hell, I might want to join in for a more organised battle. But that was for another time.

Right now, I had to live up to my words and end this.

I readied my sword and took a stance, finally preparing myself for a strike. Slime took notice, and hesitated, moving carefully around me and trying to find an opening. Finally, after what felt like hours, they charged at me.

If I had a mouth, I would have smirked.

I ducked under their initial strike, disorienting them for a moment. I summoned my Create Button right from under their legs.

“Ice prison.” I said. Slime tried to move, but I grabbed their leg, dropping my sword in the process.

“CREATE!”  

I threw myself back as Slime became trapped in a block of ice, leaving only their head vulnerable. They growled a little before sighing. It seemed I had successfully managed to immobilise them. At least for the moment. I just hoped that they wouldn’t break out.

“Alright, one down.” I sighed, taking a moment to breath. “Now I just have to deal with either Lorel or Andrew, and that should be the end of it.” Much easier said than done, especially given that one could seemingly become a tornado, whilst the other could shoot fire and fly. I turned, ready to try to find them, when Andrew just appeared in front of me.

“Gah!” I let out a small shriek of surprise. Andrew appeared to be unfazed. They extended their hand, holding my cane out to me.

“You dropped this.” They said. “I’m guessing it’s important.” I reached out hesitantly, and took the cane from their hand. Their katanas were both strapped to their back, in a way that looked very impressive, if not very practical.

“Thanks,” I said. “What happened to Lorel?” Andrew grinned at me as I spoke.

“I took care of her.” They said proudly. “A little green ninja action!” They made various noises and fast motions with their arms that I couldn’t help but laugh at. I was still surprised though. The fact that they had managed to defeat Lorel was rather impressive based on what I had seen.

“Well, kinda.” They said. “In reality I just ran away until they flew into a wall. It was some great comic relief.”

“Comic relief?” I said, now concerned. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine, don’t worry. I got our healer before I came over here. Glad I don’t have to take down Slime again.” Andrew said, ignoring Slime growling at them and struggling in the ice. “Besides, it happened off-screen. It’ll be fine.” If I had eyebrows, I would have raised one in confusion. I was finding my face rather ill-suited to covering my emotional state clearly.

“Yeah, that was pretty tough. Maybe don’t leave me to handle your battles next time? Or just don’t destroy stuff in your epic anime showdowns.” Andrew laughed. I wasn’t sure if they were taking me seriously when I said that.

“Yeah, that’s fair. But you have to admit,” They said. “It was pretty fun! Besides, you handled yourself pretty well.”

“I agree!” I jumped back in shock, as it seemed Shandy had used her invisibility to sneak uo and surprise me after the battle. “That was pretty fun to watch!”

“How long were you standing there?!”  

“Just about a minute.” She said. “I considered helping with a sneak attack, but you seemed to have things covered.”

“A bold assumption.” I said, only half-joking. “I only wish you could’ve helped earlier…” I said, before a sudden burst of inspiration came to me. I pulled out my Create Button and focused on creating a small weapon. The end result was a slingshot, which I handed to Shandy.

“Here you go. You’re armed now.” I said, jokingly. “Maybe next time it can be two on three?” Shandy smiled down at the slingshot before looking up to me with a big grin.  

“I love it! Thanks Nobody!” She said. I was surprised for a moment, since it was intended as more of a joke than anything, but if she was happy, I suppose that was a fine outcome.

“Nice birthday gift.” Andrew said next to me. “I should have thought of that.”

“Huh. Happy birthday, I guess.” I said to Shandy. “Now I feel bad for complaining so much.”

“It’s fine! Like I said, I had fun watching the fight.” She replied. “In fact, you might do well on missions.”

“Missions?” I asked. I had a feeling the answer to this would be important. “What do you mean?”

“Oh boy,” Andrew said. “You’ve got a lot to learn here.”

[END] 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @shandycandy278! I really wanted to get this chapter done in time for today, so I hope you like it. Just like last time, a bunch of crazy people under the delusion that my writing is somehow good wanted me to tag them, so in no particular order - @blossomtato, @onlyplatonicirl, @156lemongummies, @insane-but-smart, @lynn-does-stuff, @ava-the-lost-artist, @burned-ramen-2, @chais-chaos-corner, @i-am-the-unknown-shadow, @andrewture, @midgardiankat and lastly @creatorverse! (Why do so many people want to see my word vomit?)

[htownsmash]

Shiggy Horror AU

Part One: Gragoja Island

Part Two

AN: Hey everybody, thank you for taking the time to check out my second collab fic! This will be seperated in a few parts- this is Part One. If you have Interactive Fic extension, replace MC with your name! 💕

NSFW. Warning: Character Death.

To say that you were a horror fanatic was an overstatement. Sure, you usually liked to indulge in spooky stories, horror movies and even weird conspiracy theories every now and then... but you weren’t obsessed. You just enjoyed them.

So when you dragged Kaminari, Tokoyami, Kirishima, Sero and Shinso along with you to help you win the winning ticket to Gragoja Island, they weren’t surprised at all. After an entire afternoon of binging on the required snacks needed, everyone gave you the tickets they had found and cheered when you won! You were beyond excited! And why wouldn’t you be? You just won a round trip to the spookiest island in the country!

In the end, only Tokoyami and Shinso could go and keep you company. The trip there was chaotic thanks to you, but you only laughed and told them to count themselves lucky they had made it there in one piece. “Come on, guys, this is a one in a lifetime opportunity!” You claimed as you took video of the shoreline. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by the state of the abandoned ruins left behind… Why did people leave? How could such a huge place become abandoned?

“Something tragic must have taken place here; the souls of the unsettled gathered together frozen in time like the buildings that surround that place.” Tokoyami pondered out loud as he leaned against the rails of the ship. “How unfortunate that they have to deal with the living invading their private space for entertainment.”

“I think it’s cool,” Shinso broke the silence with a shrug of his shoulders as he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the ship rock in the waters. “In a historical kind of way. Maybe it was just population decline or maybe the island couldn’t support them anymore.”

You grinned at Shinso, elbowing him, “of course you’d see it that way.”

“It’s realistic.”

“How long until we get there?” Tokoyami asked, doing his best to mask his excitement.

“Two more hours and then we have to join the first tour.” You answered as you opened your phone. At the top corner you noticed that your phone signal began to weaken the closer you got to the island.

“Is the hotel haunted, too?” Shinso joked, earning a dirty look from both you and Tokoyami.

“- so what we see here is the Shopping District closed down in 1928.” The guide clambered on as your eyes focused on the area they had mentioned. “When the district reopened in 2003 it brought about an economic boom for the island. It became a popular tourist attraction over the next three years until the earthquake of 2007 struck. The city's infrastructure became unstable and again it was closed down the following year.”

You felt a cold draft brush past your neck as your group passed by the end of the district and you did a double take behind you but there was nothing there. Instead you found a doorway slightly ajar and as you grew closer you noticed that it led to a stone staircase. It looked as if it led under the store and down towards a lower section of the district. Before you decided to follow it, Tokoyami tapped your shoulder to catch your attention. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked you, knowing very well what you had been planning to do and you gave him a sheepish grin. “We should get back before we lose the group.”

“Do you think we could come back later and take a look around?” You asked as you followed him back. “I mean, they have to let us have some free time while we’re here.”

“Perhaps they allow the guests to roam around, but don’t you dare think about coming back here. You heard what the guide said.” Tokoyami crossed his arms. “You have no idea what could be down there anyway. It’s not safe.”

You patted his shoulder, hanging off him, “but that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Come on, Fumi, aren’t you curious, too?” You asked him with a slight shake of his shoulders.

He hated to admit that he was, otherwise he never would have joined you on the trip, but there was no way he would allow himself to leave his room after dark. Despite his years of training at U.A. High School, there were moments where Dark Shadow was unpredictable. He shook his head. “You’re not going to convince me so easily.”

The next morning during breakfast you had gathered up with a few strangers at a nearby table. You laughed along with them as you prodded more information about the island and any history that the guide had forgotten or left off. So far your schmoozing had been for nothing and when you saw Shinso enter the dining hall you excused yourself.

“Who were you talking to?” He asked with a yawn as he joined you at their own table, eyeing the menu left on his side.

“I was just being friendly.” You answered absently as you adjusted the settings on your phone, doing your best to test the connection. Two and a half bars. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing. “Hey, let’s take a selfie.” You suggested, coming up with a thousand excuses or ideas to get him to join your little expedition. If Tokoyami refused to go, you knew Shinso would be your man.

The first night had been uneventful. The most satisfying moment would have been finding out what was at the bottom of the stairs, like an escape room, a mass of tunnels or even a skeleton! Nothing, it had just been a part of a flooded basement. The disappointment alone sent you and Shinso back.

Your luck was going to change! Tonight was going to be different! You could feel it. You turned to Shinso as he crouched behind you, taking a moment to look behind him before you went on ahead.

The window to a nearby shop had been already smashed and carefully you two made your way inside. You took Shinso’s hand as you made sure he wouldn’t hurt himself on the jagged glass. ”It’s pretty dusty in here.” He commented, pinching his nose at the strange smell that surrounded the room. “Do you smell that?”

“Smell what?” You asked curiously, taking a moment to sniff the air around you. “It’s probably mold or something.”

“No…” Shinso tried to place it. “It smells like something decaying.”

You took another sniff but didn’t smell anything. You pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight. “Could be an animal or maybe dead rats? There were a couple of restaurants here.”

“What are you even looking for?” He asked as he followed behind. He felt uneasy as they made their way through the various shops.

“We can’t go home without a souvenir,” you replied with a cheeky grin. “Besides, I want to bring something back to show Kaminari.”

Shinso sighed, “just bring him that winebottle and tell him it’s haunted.” He pointed to the destroyed shelf behind the bar.

“Don’t be a partypooper.” You teased as you made your way across the creaky wooden floorboards. Suddenly, you heard a snap and cried out as the floor gave out from under you. You landed on your side, effectively breaking your phone in the process and you cursed and whined as pain shot through your arm.

“MC!” Shinso carefully peered down the hole. “Are you alright? I’m coming down there!” He said as he readied himself to jump down the hole.

You looked up at him and noticed a shadow right next to him also peering down at you. You lied there frozen as it’s red eyes glinted in the darkness and when you blinked, it was gone.

Shinso grunted as he landed on his feet, “shit… I’m gonna feel that in the morning.” He mumbled to himself as he bent down beside you. “Let me see.”

“Did you see that?” You asked him.

“What?”

“It was right next to you!” You gripped the front of his shirt. “We have to get out of here.”

Check out the rest of the masterlist! 💕

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

March Ado About Nothing

Series Summary - A series of one-shots and  drabbles written based off of prompts posted in the TSS Fanworks Collective server. The goal is to take traditional whump prompts and fill them in the least-angsty way possible every day through March.

A note that though some of these fills are written bait and switch style (written in a way you think is going in one direction but reveals it to be the opposite towards the end) they are all written in a fluffy or silly style with very little, if any at all, actual angst.

Day 4: A Nice Family Outing

Summary: It was always nice for Janus and Patton to get out of their house and take the twins somewhere they could play and scream without disturbing the neighbors...again.

Prompts: *Stabbing*, Rescues, Adverse Reaction  

Ships: Married Mociet (Janus x Patton) with kids Roman and Remus

Warnings: play fighting with sticks. Let me know if there are more!

General taglist (ask to be added or removed): @/janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi  @/im-an-anxious-wreck  (in an effort to not flood your inboxes I’m only tagging in the first part ^-^)

WC: 850

Watching their sons stab each other, while an interesting way to spend the afternoon, definitely wasn’t the wholesome family fun outing Patton had imagined it to be when packing the picnic basket that morning. He chewed idly on a fingernail, tracking each movement with the quickness and accuracy that one really only acquired in parenthood- an instinct born from constantly trying to make sure your children didn’t die or kill/seriously maim each other before it was time for them to get their own insurance, and by that time one expected their sweet little gremlins to be grown up into something at least halfway civilized so that none of those instances happened by their own hands.

As it was his husband simply sighed in exasperated fondness beside him as the two run circles around each other a few yards away- both wielding sticks that they had been allowed to have on the grounds that if either of them seriously injured the other on purpose they would both be grounded for a month. In hindsight they really should have thought to bring the foam swords from home before they left but so far they had both been good about keeping the sticks away from their faces and not getting any more scrapes or bruises than was usual for all their roughhousing.

“I stabbed you you gotta play dead!” Remus yelled far too loud for Patton to be comfortable in public.

“Nuh-uh! Dad said no face stabs and you stabbed my face so it don’t count!” Roman screamed back.

“Doesn’t count Roman.” Janus supplied helpfully, earning an elbow in the ribs from Patton even as he snorted.

“Doesn’t count!” Roman parroted as he swung the stick at Remus’ knees.

“Does too! I hit your shoulder!”

“That's my face area so it doesn’t count!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is too!” Remus, apparently having enough of the brotherly banter, abandoned his stick to tackle Roman to the ground instead, bringing him down with an indignant shriek as they began to roll in the dirt. Patton sighed and mentally ticked off the laundry he had already done that weekend and added the twins’ clothes to the pile he still had in the laundry room. It was only mud and they were old clothes so he wasn’t too worried- honestly most of his concern was whether or not they’d have enough bandaids for all the scrapes they’d probably have on their legs afterwards. He smiled and leaned back on his hands, at least there was never a shortage of Make-It-Better-Kisses. “Should we pull them apart now or wait until someone comes over to tell us we’re bad parents?” Janus drawled as he took a sip of grape juice from his wine glass.

“They aren’t being that lou-” Another shriek brought his attention back to the boys as they were now play sword fighting with the previously abandoned sticks. “...give five more minutes they’re having fun.”

“Mm.” They watched in silence for a couple more minutes before Roman and Remus eventually got tired on their own, both of them flopping down on the blanket to pant and rest in front of them. Reaching forward Patton gently carded through Remus’ hair, trying to ruffle as much dirt and grass out of it as possible. He looked over to see Janus doing the same To Roman’s face with a wet wipe, though it seemed both of their efforts were in vain. Seeming to give up on the fussy child Janus instead took Patton’s hand and began wiping it off with the cloth, taking it when he was done and placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles and causing his face to turn a brilliant red as he struggled to get words past his sputtering lips.

“Gross Dad.” Roman quipped from his place on the blanket. Janus glanced down with a wholly unimpressed expression and reached for him.

“Gross huh? I’ll show you gross!” Before Roman could wiggle away he was scooped up into Janus’ strong arms, shirt tucked up and away as his lips blew raspberries into his sensitive stomach. The unholy shriek that left Roman’s mouth was piercing enough to give any demon a run for its money, wiggling and giggling uncontrollably as his attacker refused to let up.

Patton turned to Remus, who was simply laying and watching quietly. Patton poked his forehead. “Feeling left out?”

“No!”

Patton grinned and reached forward, choosing to attack Remus’ more sensitive ribs then taking his husband's approach. Remus tried to stay still, face turning red with a held breath that was let out a moment later in an explosion of laughter and squirming that only brought him closer to the offending fingers rather than away. Janus stopped first, panting heavily and laughing just as hard as Roman as Patton finally let up and placed a hand on Remus’ forehead where he was resting on his lap. The sun was going down and they’d have to leave soon, but it was nice letting out the last of their laughter for the sun to enjoy before they made their way back home.

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[permian-tropos]

diary entry sort of thing. personal. content warnings under the cut 

cw: mentioned suicidality

I’m trying to look with a clearer head at like... how, if it is possible, to heal my passion and relationship to this fandom, and I keep going back to this really early incident that was an obvious bad omen.

Last summer I got in the habit of exercising and it was really fun, me and my brother were really building muscle and it felt great, and I actually got into Pathologic specifically because I put playthroughs on in the background. I’d be holding planks and trying to do dips while watching the funky plague game on my tiny iphone screen, it was pretty great. 

So I watched parts of playthroughs of both games, I’d already started consuming some fandom stuff, funny youtube memes mostly, and met a few people while poking around on tumblr and reddit, and the endorphins I got from exercise put a rosy tinge this experience. 

And then I saw the first thundercloud of discourse on a blog I was scrolling through, where someone was trying to stir up trouble against a particular content creator for associating with ~gross kink~ and there were several other gut punches when I saw people I recognized whose fanwork I’d begun to admire joining in. 

The next exercise day came around and in the middle of it I genuinely started crying from stress. If you think this is cringe then like... you’re wrong lol, people have feelings. But whatever. I was worried that the handful of friends I’d already made would abandon me if they found out I didn’t approve of policing ~gross kink~ and that I’d be dragged into a) admitting the dark kinks I do have and getting people to treat me like shit or b) hiding it but having to witness constant discussion of kinks that do squick me out, conducted in a manner to deliberately exacerbate the disgust, which is super awful for someone with anxiety and intrusive thoughts. Because that’s how these discourses always go. 

I couldn’t finish the day’s exercise routine because of the emotional distress and that was the last time I worked out. I couldn’t go back to it, the routine just fell apart. And that was probably quite bad for my long-term mental health. The discourse was kind of a hypervigilance trigger, where I couldn’t release pent up stress physically because my body feared it would leave me too exhausted to deal with the Looming Threat of social rejection or trying to figure out who was safe to interact with.

But with that in mind it especially sucked later on to have troubles with the people who sort of innocently advertised “safety” to me because the “safety” was only in the form of not being judged for your fiction, and for a collection of reasons it wasn’t safe for the problem of being neurotic in fandom. In letting out their frustrations with being treated badly, in trying to protect themselves in an unideal situation, even if they were being hyperbolic and didn’t intend to do anything untoward, people were communicating their own hypervigilance. It was clear that being in the fandom meant being scrutinized on all sides. Almost every conflict I got into was about this issue of keeping tabs on others, because I would be thinking, “oh god, if I wasn’t here in this conversation, people would be scrutinizing me, and some of the stuff they’re reacting badly to seems like stuff I could hypothetically say/do... maybe? I don’t know”. 

People found that I was triggering their neuroses by reacting badly, because now I was scrutinizing them back. Well, fuck me, if it isn’t my old friend the mortifying ordeal of being known. Plus, their perspective of “I genuinely feel unsafe” was being greeted with what seemed to be “don’t worry so much”, so that felt insulting. But it wasn’t really that I didn’t want people to worry or be upset about being wronged. It was that I had no way of communicating or fulfilling a need I had for a fandom space where none of this was necessary.

I didn’t want a choice of what to be neurotic about. I didn’t want to be neurotic at all. 

I said in a now deleted post that I regretted socializing at all, but the thing is that’s not true, I really did need to try to socialize. Except... well... this fandom was kind of a toxic fucking minefield (especially back then) and there was no way for me to engage with it without something going wrong.

That moment when I felt like I couldn’t exercise anymore because all my spare energy was inevitably going to go towards ruminating and fixating on how not to let things Go Wrong in some way... that wasn’t the point where things started to go bad because almost everything good came after that too. But it was still pretty indicative of the problem to come. 

In the end of summer 2020, after battling through the horror and ennui of the early pandemic which definitely was not easy, I was starting to find ways to be consistently happy, and briefly I was physically healthy, creatively inspired, eager to make friends. A year later, I took a long walk in the woods at night, heard a creaking tree branch, and imagined the sound was my body hanging from a noose. 

There’s no one cause for that. There’s other stuff I haven’t mentioned. This is hardly a full picture for anyone on the outside. I’m not assigning a villain, I’m just saying... yes, something obviously went wrong. 

It really didn’t have to be like this. But as a reassurance: yes, I’m well aware that the person I was a year ago would not want me to feel this way, and in a way I’m inviting them to come back from the past and take charge of how I’m going to care for myself moving forward. Maybe I’ll try working out. 

[planettel]

*•.¸♡ Lover’s Imagines #3 ♡¸.•* (gender neutral)

“SILVER AND ICE”

➳ some things are meant to be forgotten

    ✧ word count : 1117

(pssssst...go read part one !!! ^^^)

"Babe...whatever happens..." They take a deep breath, staring intensly into your eyes. "Just don't freak out ok?" They spring up from the bed, sprinting to the wall length mirrors on the other side of the room.

"Well that's too late!" You exclaim, grabbing at their arms to not avail. "What the fuck are you doing!" You start to edge yourself to the end of the bed, "G-get back he- Woah!"

You tumble off the bed head first when the room gives a stomach turning lurch. Chills wrack up and down your body with no mercy, leaving you in a skittish state. It feels like all your body's warm suddenly drained, so much that even the normally freezing floors left you feeling indifferent.

Curled up forgotten on the floor you claw at the boards...

Only to realise your hands weren't even moving.

Frosted over with small ice crystals, turning your flesh the colours of a haunting picture of a winter landscape. The frost spreading around you, crawling slowly up the blanket of the bed. Turning the once smooth folds into to sharp jagged edges.

You hear them curse loudly before, chanting in a alien language. Their intonation grating against you ears.

You can't see or feel anything, just the world tilting on it's axis...

There's muffled voices above you, like youre slowly drowning under water!

Blurs.

That's the first thing you see. Streaks of silvers and blues. You gasp for air, clawing at your throat. Air! You needed air!

"Breathe...that's it. Just like that baby." You recognise the soft voice cooing. Taking deep gulping breaths, you feel warmth under your palms and your body tingles pleasantly. "That's it, keep taking those deep breaths for me."

When your eyes finally focus, you see your partner gazing at you concerned, your hands cradled in their's.

Their calloused fingers, wipe at the tears leaking through your eyes.

Only, for you to start hoarsely, gasp when you notice the small drops of red, dancing down their fingers.

"I'm so sorry! I'll never do that again without telling you!" They pull you into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling your head into their chest.

A powerful presence makes your stomach lurch again, and you whimper into the comfort of your lover's chest.

"Stop...you're hurting them."

"Well this would've been easily avoidable if someone had warned me."

"Since when do you visit me!"

"Oh, so it's now a crime for a mother to visit their child! Woe is me...grow up!"

The harsh tone make you tremble at the sheer power and weight their words hold.

"Tone your power down. It's too much! It's fine, your safe...just keep breathing for me." They're gentle coos, calm you down again and you dare turning around to face the intuder - no their mum!

"You have a mum! Wait- of...of course you have a-a mum...I-" You struggle to get the words out, your jaw felt like lead and your throat felt like it had just endured a eternity of being scratched with sand paper.

"No. She's only calling herself that now." They snarl in disgust, cradlkng you tighter. "Move back! Do you not see how you're affecting them!"

"Child look at me." The order is simple and muttered nonchalantly, however you find a charge of energy shooting through your body and you turn your head robotically.

She was hauntingly beautiful, full of sharp edges and prominent features. She looked like she knew the answers to old age questions, but that was impossible. As not one wrinkle marked her face.

"Don't you dare use magic in them again!" They bark, sharply turning your head back to face them. Their eyes are narrowed, silver hair is disarray-

Silver hair...

"Your hair, wha-why is it silver?"

"No reason."

"A side affect if not using your magic for a while." The 'mother' perched herself ont the edge of the bed, "There's no point in hiding. I am simply put mother, your...lover's mentor and creator. No I didn't abandon them and they're making it out to be. We are part of the family of witches and warlocks. Yes we do magic and yes we're immortal." She simply stares, eyes shimmering with glee when they see your shocked face.

"Wh- I don't understand...why did you never tell me?" You turn to face the forlorn face of your partner. Their shoulders hunched, as the fist the bed sheets.

"Yes, do tell." Mother, sniggers, gently caressing a stand of your hair.

Your partner ferociously bats their hand away.

Their shoulders shake roughly and you go to place a soothing hand. They suddenly look up, eyes glowing a dangerous red. The magic from the eyes makes your head pulse. Smoke, drifts up, the gentle whispers, teasing the nostrils of your nose.

The world tilts on its axis once more and you want to scream up, but it's like your voice has been chained up.

Blurs.

That's the first thing you see. A weird sense of deja vu overcomes you.

You bolt up, finding yourself wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. Everything seems to be normal, except for the missing mirrors on the wall and your partner.

As if hearing the confused signals from your brain, they waltz in the room carrying a tray of food. Their hair noticeably shimmers silver in the moonlight.

"wha-" You clear your throat thoroughly. Why did your jaw feel like lead and your throat feel like it had been scratched with snad paper for eternity? "Your hair...why-why is it silver?"

Your partner settles the tray down carefully on the bedside table before clambering up on the bed. "Oh! It was gonna be a surprise for today but you knocked out before I started." They snigger at your confused expression. "You're so cute when you sleep~" They tease.

Picking up a turgid grape, they prompt it into your mouth. You allow yourself to be carried away from the rhythmic motions.

"When did I fall asleep...what day is it?"

"You fell asleep about three hours ago and I just didn't have the heart to wake you up." They cradle you in their arms.

This was weird, they were incredibly more touchy, each action punctuated with a lingering caress or a chaste peck. "Are you OK?"

"Of course!" They smile reassuringly at you, one hand gently massaging at your shoulders. "And it's officially the first of November."

"Oh...ok." You reply quietly, still a bit disorientated. "Anything interesting happen, apart from you dying your hair." Reaching forward, you go to grab a grape, but they take it out of your hand popping it in their's.

You pout as they chew thoughtfully.

"Nope...not that I know of." They shrug, but you can't ignore the glint in their eye.

✧✧✧

And so we conclude the spooky season special...oooo

Sorry that there wasn't much affection, and the timing seemed a bit rushed. I literally wrote this on 3 hours of sleep, oxygen and adrenaline.

Anyways...let me stop exposing myself hee hee...

Have fun imagining and I hope you guys have a good Halloween!!!

[ladybell9095]

Hello there! 

This is an idea I came up with for Darksiders Week Day 1. This is also my first time doing this kind of thing, so I hope this is expectable for Day 1. This involves Strife and Fury going on a mission given to them by the Council. In no way are they being shipped together. This is basically how I interpret how a mission would go for them or at least this is one of the ways. Anyhow...

In the frozen barren tundra, we join our two riders. It was an odd pair, very rare pair as a matter of fact. There was no hate between these two. An overwhelming amount of annoyance, but no hate. Sent by The Council to destroy an artifact used by one of Lucifer’s generals, Strife and Fury prepare themselves for a long mission.

“Climbing the side of a mountain on horseback while during a snowstorm was a great idea brother! I can’t imagine how much time were saving!” Fury shouted sarcastically over her shoulder. Taking on the challenge that was this aggravating snowstorm wasn’t a problem. Putting Rampage through literal frozen Hell was a problem for the female rider. Besides her own voice she constantly heard Rampages heavy breathing. “Come on Rampage. We’ve been through worse. This storm won’t slow you down.” Rampage neighed in response to his rider’s encouragement. He took the storm head on and pushed through the thick blanket of snow.

“This is a way better plan than yours!” Strife yelled back as loud as he could through the icy wind. “Besides your just mad because all you decided to wear was that flimsy cloak!”

“I thought we were going to Hell! Not a desolate frozen wasteland of a realm!”

“I guess it’s just one of those cold days in Hell!” Strife laughed at his humor but was silenced by the red unamused glare casted at him. “Just a little further and we’ll reach the mountains peak! You want to borrow my scarf?!”

“Only if I get to strangle you with it.”, Fury growled.

Two hours had passed before the mountains peak was in sight. The snowy path the two horsemen trailed opened up to an everlasting night sky. There were the decrepit remains of a building lost to the realm’s icy wrath. Mayhem and Rampage were rewarded with a well-deserved rest and took shelter under an old wooden canopy. On foot Fury and Strife explored the mountain top for any unwanted attention.

When everything was cleared the two made their way to the old building. Upon entering Fury identified the structure as an abandon barrack. There were rusted blades and broken axes that laid in some weapon racks that were still intact. With what few racks remained Fury went in search for a weapon for her to use for fun while being on this undetailed mission. Strife went around checking for any signs of life that would call these barracks its home. Giving the building a thorough run through, the barracks were deemed to be the riders base of operations.

The horsemen took some time to rest themselves before traversing back down the mountain to start their job. Fury went outside and went to go check on Rampage. Time with Rampage was possibly the only way to wind down her anger. Rampage lifted his head to his approaching rider and stared at her with tired eyes. Fury apologized to her friend and fed him some apples that she keeps hidden in one of the saddle pouches. Mayhem had smelled the delicious treat and moved closer to the two. While Rampage at his treat Fury pulled out another apple and fed it to Mayhem. When the apples were gone Fury went back to her brother, leaving the horses with a fire to keep them warm.

Fury found her brother lying against a wooden chair with his feet resting on top of a questionable creaky wooden table. She took the stool on the other side of the table and waited for her brother to tell her exactly what it is that they were searching for. At the time she failed to give any attention during the Councils briefing after hearing the word armies. Fury waited and waited, wondering if her brother would ever say a word. Once she heard him give a quick snore, she flipped the table along with Strife.

“Is it me,” Strife spoke with a finger pointed in the air. “or do you hate sleeping? Because I was having the nicest dream.”

“You can sleep when we’ve done our job. Which I still have no idea about.”

“Didn’t you listen to anything the Council said? Oh, wait no you didn’t because someone always jumps the gun at the mentions of any sort of physical confrontation.”

“Shut up and explain already.”

Strife gave a sigh and sat upright. “We’re here to destroy an artifact, that’s it. Council said we’ll know it when we see it.”

“That’s all?”

“And kill a whole bunch of enemies on the way.”

“Perfect. When do we leave?”

“Right now.”

Strife was to lead them on this mission seeing how he was the one who bothered to listen to the pile of rocks. He looked down to the stronghold to try and get a good layout of the area. The stronghold covered a massive area which was walled off by tall stone walls. On the outside of these walls were small groups of enemies acting as guards. On the inside there were several stone iron structures. In the center was the tallest building with heavy security. There was no doubt to that being where the artifact was being held. With the need to know information the two left the horses behind and traversed down the mountain.

At the base of the mountain the two snuck around to find entry into the massive stronghold. Near the back was a hole left by invaders prior to them. Strife was thankful that Fury understood the means of an ambush unlike War who would charge in headfirst. On the way to the obvious holding place of their objective everything went smoothly. Luck seemed to be on their side, but that luck vanished the closer they got to the main building.

There were way more guards there than Strife saw earlier and there were probably twice as more inside. Both horsemen had to up their game now that they were deep inside enemy territory. Sneaking became more of a challenge now that they were closer. There were to many close calls of their location being found out. All they needed was to find a way inside, but there was no entry for them to sneak in undetected.

“Damn they have this placed locked up good.”, Strife whispered keeping his wits about him.

“Sneaking around like rats has been proven useless now. The only way in is through those doors.”

“We can’t go rushing in without us being surrounded by demons. We play it safe and find another way in.”

“The guards. Surely one of those idiots must know another way in.”

“Already looking for the sucker.” Strife navigated his eyes some more and spotted his target. “There. You see the one lounging about and stuffing his face with creator knows what? That’s our target.”

“Good let us go get him.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Strife stopped Fury with his arm, but she quickly swatted it away. “This is a delicate matter. Best to let me handle this.”

“Who other than you to handle the delicate work around here.”, Fury smiled to herself.

“Very funny. Alright once I grab him, you create a distraction. Got it?”

“And how can I do that without revealing my location?”

“You’ll figure something out.”

With no help from her brother Fury started looking around for anything to draw the enemy’s attention. She looked around and found some bottles carelessly lying about. She popped open the cork and smelled its contents. The bottles were filled with oil. Fury knew exactly what to do with them. She uncorked a few more bottles and placed them to the side of her.

While Fury was preparing for her part Strife was working on his. He moved through the shadows, unseen and ever silent. When the shadows were no longer an option, he took the high ground, taking out any guards that would cause him trouble. He was now above his target. Before he made another move, he used on of his sabers to signal Fury.

Fury saw a gleam of light and made her move. Without warning Fury chucked one of the bottles of oil to the campfire the demons ate around. The glass shattered and the oil in the bottle covered the ground. Again, Fury threw another bottle of oil, but this time she aimed it at the fire. The bottle exploded once the flames reached the oil. Soon the whole campsite was set a flame.

Strife taking the opportunity, jumped the demon, and beat him until he was unconscious. He slung the demon over his shoulder and headed for the exit. As a good added measure more bottles of oil were thrown and spread to the opposite side of the camp. Fury took a moment to admire her work and enjoy the panic shouts coming from the demons before heading to the exit herself.

Once Fury caught up with her brother, they went back to the old barracks to interrogate their captive. Finding some old but durable chains they chained up the demon tightly. They hung his bound arms over a support beam and proceeded to wake him.

“How is this demon still asleep?”

“Don’t know, but the guy is going to have one rude awakening.” Strife went to one of the torches that gave the room its light, grabbed it, and held it against the demon’s unconscious body. The demon registered its pain with an agonizing cry. “There we go.”

“Nicely done brother.”

The demon focused on the new voices and focused on the sound of his restraints. “Horsemen!”, the demon shouted.

“Demon.”, Strife spoke back. “Now that we know who we all are let’s get down to brass tacks.”

“You’re here for the artifact that powers one of Lord Lucifer’s weapons, aren’t you?”, the demon blurted.

“Good we don’t have to explain ourselves. Now you will tell us how to get into the building that holds this artifact!”, Fury threatened while holding the dimwitted demon by the collar.

“Of course you would ask about the secret tunnel hidden under the crates on the west side of the building.”

Fury let go of the demon and stood with her brother. “He’s not a very bright is he?”, Strife loudly whispered.

“Rather the demon is that stupid or we got unlucky with your pick.”

“Well now we know where a secret tunnel is, we don’t need this guy anymore.”

“Do your worst horseman!”

Fury cracked her knuckles. “With pleasure.”

“Hold up.” Fury stopped.

“You got to hit him now it is my turn.”, Fury complained with her fist held high.

“No one is hitting anyone. We’re letting him go.”

Fury turned with her tightly held fist towards her brother. “What?!”

“When does a horseman grant mercy?”, the demon asked.

“Yes, when do the horsemen grant mercy?”

“Hey, the guy told us what we needed to know and made this job a hundred times easier.” Strife took out his sabers and cut through the chains like butter. “Now go on, get out of here before tall mean and scary chops your head off.”

The demon was cautious as he made his way to the door. Both horsemen kept an eye on him and followed him out the door. They watched him walk to the snow-covered path.

“Strife what the hell has gotten into you?! Are you really going to let that creature live?!”

Strife quickly unholstered Mercy. Two bullets left Mercy’s chamber. The demon had collapsed dead on the snow with a bullet hole through the head and the chest and blood surrounding the fresh corpse. “Nope.”

Fury punched her brother. “Always having to have the last killing with you.”

“This is probably the only demon I’ll get to kill with you around. Had to get some action in.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Well it’s this idiot who chose the right idiot to tell us some information.”

“False information.”

“It may have been false, but now we know our only way in is through the front doors.”

“And you’re sure this is the correct course of action?”

“This is me we’re talking about. When has your brother ever been wrong?” Fury was about to comment on the question. “Don’t answer that. I’m willing to bet all my gold that there is a trap waiting for us.”

“Trap or not there will finally be some excitement to this mission. We leave when the stronghold isn’t on fire anymore. It may be a while. There were a lot of bottles of oil.”

Having no day or night cycle gave the two a hard time of wondering how much time has passed. While waiting for the distraction to calm down the two kept watch on the stronghold. As useless as demons seemed to be their flailing about finally put out Fury’s fires. Now was the time to move out again and to do what they came here for.

As to be expected there was added security at the hole where the two first made their entry. At this point the two were all out of patience and ran headfirst into the horde. Alarms and various roars rang from the sound of battle. Instinctively the two stuck together and rained hell on their oncoming enemies. In the midst of battle Fury and Strife make a moment of eye contact. Fury was reminded of the times back during her time as a Nephilim. She was pretty sure Strife was too by how familiar his fighting style was becoming. His sabers even made more of an appearance.

Strife shouted, “31!” Fury was confused by the number but caught on when Strife shouted, “40!”

“Are you challenging me?!”

“Not much of a challenge with the points I got! Oh!” A demon fell dead at Strife’s feet. “Make that 41!”

“Better bring your all brother because I started counting once we arrived! I’m up to 54!”

“Only 54?! Your slacking Fury!”

“Taunt all you want, but I will prevail!”

The fighting continued as waves of enemies kept coming. If they stay here playing this competition any longer, they would not succeed in their mission.  When there was some breathing room the two entered the building. Once the doors slammed shut behind them more demons came at them once more.

“As much as I loved to kill all these creatures, we need to find that artifact!”

“No doubt reinforcements will be coming through that door. You go and destroy the artifact. I’ve got your back.”

“Right.”

“And Fury!” Fury slain another poor soul before turning to her brother. “Be careful!”

“When am I not?!”, Fury jested before heading deeper into the building.

She explored every room and found only more to add to her score. When she came across a grand giant door, she kicked it open. On the other side she was immediately greeted by annoying demons. Her whip sliced through the chest of her last foe and fell with its innards lying on the floor. Stepping over the corpse Fury found the artifact, but before she could reach it a giant axe stood in her way.

She dodged the swing of the brute wielding axe demon and readied Scorn. The demon towered above her and bathed Fury in his foul breath. He wore more armor than the rest and brandish the seal of his master in his leathery skin. “You and your brother have caused quite a bit of damage in my stronghold.”

“If it weren’t for my brother this place would’ve been reduced to a pile of ash.”

The demon roared with anger. “My defenses are not easy to take down.”

Fury laughed. “I didn’t see any defenses when we first infiltrated or when I set fire to your pitiful camp.”

The sharpened axe came hurdling towards Fury once again. Fury evaded the slow attack and readied for her own. She whipped Scorn at the demon, but he had caught her attack with his axe. “How fitting it is to give the weakest horseman the useless weapon.”

Fury snarled and tugged Scorn with all her might. The demon grasped the axe no more as it laid on the ground. Fury lunged at the demon and left a long-jagged gash across the demons left eye. “You will learn of my strength and you will learn how I can make any weapon lethal!”

Unlike his weapons strife was running out of juice. Reinforcements kept coming. If this kept going it would put the final nail in his coffin. He put his brain to work and looked around for anything to help out. The answer he found couldn’t have been more obvious. Strife took out some bombs and lines them above the doors entrance and the pillars that were next to it. He shot them setting off a chain reaction that covered the only entrance with rubble.

Time was finally on his side and he used it to go search for the artifact and Fury. To his luck he heard the echoes of a battle cry he knew all too well. As he got closer to the noise it started to lessen and then there was silence. Crazy angry at himself for worrying about his sister to death, Strife ran into the room and found that he worried for nothing. There stood Fury covered in blood, Scorn firmly in her hand, and the massive demon at her feet.

Strife came in with a low whistle. He looked to the demon’s eyes, with both being lashed into from the work of Fury’s whip. “Ouch. Went for the eyes I see.” Fury didn’t respond for she was catching her breath. “Where’s the artifact?”

Fury held out the shattered remains of a crystal. “Destroyed.”

“Well I’d say this was a job well done, but we still need to get out of here. Problem is that I may have blocked the only exit.”

“Then we shall make our own.”

“I’m with you there.” Strife reciprocated the same process with the front entrance and blew a hold in the side of the building. Unfortunately for the horseman, with more noise came more attention. “This is getting ridiculous. How many demons can there be in hell for us to kill? Must’ve gone through half of Hell by now.”

“As much as I would like to continue our competition, I suggest we retreat.”

“Getting tired already sis?”

“After beating that giant oaf, I wouldn’t mind a break. Plus, it will save you the humiliation of me obviously winning the challenge.”

“Bullshit. Whats your score?” Several arrows falling towards the two silenced the horsemen before the reveal. They high tailed it through the strongholds front gates and summoned their horses. Strife gave them some cover fire as they got farther away from the stronghold. When they were far away enough Strife asked once more. “So, what was your score?”

“187.”

“Hate to break it to you sis, but I’ve won. I got 200.”

“That may be so, but I didn’t count the big one yet. With adding the large demon that puts me to about 207.”

“No. no. no. no. no. That’s against the rules.”

“I don’t remember any rules. I only remember a challenge. A challenge I rightly won.” Strife was left speechless and threw a fit while mumbling to himself. “Better luck next time brother.” Fury whipped the reins on Rampage and rode towards her next mission. 

[ninja-hamsterstyle]

All We Are, Chapter 1

A/N: Well, this work in progress has been about a year in the making. Kudos go to @queenmismatched​ who sent me some Barry/Eowells fic recs when I had just gotten into The Flash and was healing from surgery!

Pairings: Barry Allen/Eowells, eventual Barry Allen/reader/Eowells

Warnings: Embarrassment, the reader walking in on a... situation, blow jobs, swearing, I think?

Words: 2,603

Summary: Sometimes, someone comes into your life so unexpectedly, takes your heart by surprise, and changes your life forever.  A story in which Eobard Thawne experiences an unforeseen change in his plans… but he doesn’t entirely mind.

The Reader's P.O.V.

   "Oh, come on, Y/N!" Cisco said pleadingly. "We haven't been out in forever!"

  You laughed, finally setting your laptop down for the first time since work had ended for the night/ Well your metahuman work anyway. Your day job still beckoned.

  "Didn't we go to the movies just last week?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "Yeah, well..." He paused for a moment, trying to come up with a good counter argument. "We're not going to the movies this time," was all he could come up with, but he paired it with a puppy-eyed expression.

  "Barry does the puppy eyes better," You said, and patted his hand on the table. "I'll come out next time, okay?" You promised.

  The puppy eyes faded into a look of disappointment and he nodded. You patted his hand again.

  A few minutes later, Caitlin came striding into the Cortex, her coat buttoned up and her purse slung over her shoulder. "You sure you don't want to come with us, Y/N?" She asked. "It's trivia night."

  You nodded. "Yeah. This story is due Thursday morning and I'm not getting paid if it's not finished by then."

  Caitlin nodded, though she looked a little unsure. You smiled at her, silently trying to reassure her that you were alright. After a minute, she stepped forward and touched his arm to catch his attention.

  "Let's go," She said softly once he looked at her. She looked back at you and said a little bit louder, a little more cheerfully, "We'll see you tomorrow!"

  You nodded and waved as they walked into the hallway. "Have fun at Jitters!"

  As you sat down and pulled your laptop closer, you faintly heard the chime of the elevator being called. Another faint chime sounded not long after, announcing the arrival of the elevator. You smiled to yourself, settling back in your chair.

  Time to get to work.

  It doesn't take long for you to start where you left off. There were a few false beginnings, but then you remembered where you had been going with the narrative. You immersed yourself in the story, loving that familiar sensation that all creators knew well. Almost an hour passed and you were roughly halfway through.

  You were so deep into the story that you hardly reacted when Barry streaked into the cortex, still wearing his work clothes.

  "Is Dr. Wells still here?" He asked, brushing dust off of himself.

  "Yep." You barely spared him a glance. "He's in his office." Or at least you thought he was; you hadn't heard his wheelchair rolling down the hall outside. But then again, you hadn't heard much of anything, distracted as you were.

  Barry took your word for it, though. He said, "Thanks," and then he was off before you thought to say no problem. There was a light, papery sound sliding through the air, but you ignored it. You were familiar enough with the sound of Barry taking off by now.

  You thought.

  You finally stopped typing ten or maybe fifteen minutes later (you weren't entirely sure; time was always a slippery thing when you became immersed in writing). The story was less than a quarter away from the ending, but your poor fingers were demanding a break. With a satisfied sigh, you set the laptop on the table and leaned back in your chair.

  And let loose a string of swear words.

  Turns out there was a reason why you associated the papery sound you'd heard earlier with Barry leaving: There was a notebook's worth of papers spread out on the floor. A common result of a certain speedster speeding away.

  You swore again and got up, moving to clean the papers up. Barry Allen was lucky he was cute - it made a lot harder to be mad at him when he made a mess like this. There was also the fact that you may have had a tiny crush on him, but you weren't going to think about that right now.

  It took almost as long as it did to convince Cisco and Caitlin that you were fine staying here by yourself, but you finally had the papers arranged in (mostly) neat little stacks on the floor. You had picked them up and were attempting to figure out where they used to be when you heard the sound. It was like a faint groan, so quiet your ears almost didn't pick it up. You froze, your eyes darting to the medbay, the treadmill room, the hall outside the Cortex. There was no one there.

  Right?

  You shook your head, chalking the sound up to being water pipes groaning or - more likely - your imagination. You were still a little absorbed in your own world. But then, a few minutes later, you heard the sound again. And again, and it was louder this time. There was definitely no one nearby… except for…

  Dr. Wells.

  Your eyes darted the hallway at the same time another groan drifted down. There was no mistaking it this time: the groan belonged to Dr. Wells.

You reached out with your meta-healing sense, but didn't feel anything. That didn't mean something wasn't wrong though. Concerned, you stood and hurried out of the Cortex without putting down the papers in your hand. The door to Dr. Wells's office was slightly ajar and, despite your urgency, you raised your free hand to knock on the door frame (it seemed rude not to) and peered through the gap out of habit. And then you froze.

  Dr. Wells was in his office. But he wasn't hurt or injured like you'd thought.

  No, he was far from it actually.

  For a moment, time seemed to slow. You were frozen with shock… and maybe a little arousal. Dr. Wells was sitting in his wheelchair like usual. What wasn't usual though was the way his hands clenched the armrests of the chair and his eyes closed in pleasure. Nor was the way that Barry - Barry! - knelt in front of him. The bobbing of the speedster's head left little question as to what he was doing.

  You wanted to walk away. You should have walked away. But for some reason your legs wouldn't move. All you could do was stare.

  Then Dr. Wells groaned again and the beautiful, damning sound broke whatever spell you'd been under. You gasped as time sped back up. The papers in your hand slipped from your grasp and fell to the floor with whispery, shifting sounds. Those sounds, quiet as they were, seemed impossibly loud. You mentally swore and berated yourself, but it was too late.

  Barry froze his head bobbing and there was a wet popping as he presumably pulled Dr. Wells's cock from his mouth. Dr. Wells himself opened his eyes and looked directly at you. The expression on his face changed from ecstasy to surprise, but there was something else there as well, something you couldn't quite decipher. Then there was a blur and a flash of yellow lightning and Barry was right in front of you, opening the door further and blocking the other scientist from view.

  His mouth opened, but you didn't hear what he said or was about to say. You turned and took off down the hall, with no other thought than you had to get out of there. Now.

 Eowell's P.O.V.

   Eobard Thawne - the man currently masquerading as Harrison Wells - hated Barry Allen. Hated him with a burning passion. But he loved his mouth and his talented, talented hands.

  Eobard had been sitting in his office, tinkering with an invention Cisco had left behind, some kind of meta-human dampening cuff, when the speedster sped in. He wasn't wearing his speed suit, which was a damn shame - he looked quite delectable in it - but he was wearing skinny jeans and an expression that was a cross between gratefulness and something a little dirtier.

  "Are you busy?" He'd asked with a glance at the invention in his hands.

  Eobard set the gadget down without looking at it and started to move his wheelchair around the desk. "Not anymore. Why?"

  "I, uh, I wanted to thank you for earlier." Despite the not-so-innocent grin that played at his lips, Barry blushed. "You saved my ass out there."

  The secret speedster matched Barry's grin as he stopped in front of him. "It was my pleasure, Mr. Allen, but if you really want to thank me, I could think of a few ways you might do that..."

  And that was how Barry ended up on his knees in front of Eobard, his tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Eobard groaned and leaned his head back, his eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of pleasure. The boy was gifted with his mouth, even more so than Eobard had imagined when they had first started doing this a few short months ago. Barry sucked him off like a pornstar, bobbing his head up and down his length with a well-set rhythm. One of his hands held his thigh, and while Eobard had to pretend that he couldn't feel it, he certainly didn't pretend that he couldn't feel the hand cupping his balls.

  "Fuck," He growled when Barry buzzed his hand around his balls. Smirking around his length, Barry did it again and got the same reaction. Eobard gripped the wheelchair's armrests, forcing himself not to thrust his hips up like he so desperately wanted to.

  As he got closer to the edge, his sounds got louder. He was moaning and growling and swearing with abandon. Everyone else had left earlier that evening. Except for Y/N, but he didn't realize that... at least not until he heard a gasp that wasn't his own and a strange papery sound.

  His eyes shot open and to the partially open door. Y/N was standing there, a stack of papers fanned out at her feet - the source of the papery sound, no doubt. Shock was written across her features, but also arousal? Eobard wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but he didn't find it unwelcome.

  Barry pulled off his mouth and stood up. In the blink of an eye, he was at the door, blocking Eobard's view of Y/N. He started to say something, then stopped and Eobard heard harsh footsteps as Y/N ran away. Barry called her name, but she didn't stop. He glanced over his shoulder and the question in his eyes was clear.

  Should I go after her?

  Eobard nodded. "Go talk to her," He said and his voice was still a bit rough with his previous desire. He cleared his throat and continued, "Convince her to come back here."

  Barry nodded in understanding and took off, leaving a brief trail of lightning in his wake. Eobard watched as the lightning quickly faded and tucked his still-hard self back into his pants.

  This was an interesting turn of events.

  Very interesting indeed.

 The Reader's P.O.V.

   You shoved open the heavy metal door leading to the stairwell and dashed down the steps. Your lungs were already burning with exertion. Barry would catch up in literally no time at all, but that didn't stop you from trying to get out. You were regretting not going out with Caitlin and Cisco when they offered.

  Staying late was a mistake. A big, no huge mistake.

  After three floors and no streaks of lightning, you thought you were home free. Then you reached the fourth landing and saw a familiar figure blocking the path to the next flight of stairs. A gasped curse escaped your lips as you skidded to a stop. "Fuck."

  You'd forgotten about the other stairwell in the building.

  Barry leaned against the stair railing, an unreadable expression on his face. He didn't say anything; he just watched you as you fought to catch your breath.

  "Took you long enough." It was a weak joke and you knew it. It was the only thing that came to mind when you stopped panting for air, though.

  Thankfully, Barry ignored it. His searching stare wasn't all that comforting, however. You stared right back at him, trying very hard not to squirm or fidget.

  Finally, he said, "I think it'd be naive to assume you didn't see anything."

  Your heart beating in your throat, you nodded.

  "Yeah." He laughed and, to your surprise, it didn't sound strained or forced. But it didn't help your nerves either.

  "I didn't mean to walk in on you," You said. It was true. You didn't think in your concerned urgency that the groans meant something else, that they lacked a pained edge. And you definitely hadn't expected to see Barry on his knees in front of the wheelchair. Nor had you been prepared for your body's reaction.

  And from the slow-forming look on Barry's face, you that he knew.

  You shifted from foot to foot, wondering if you could lunge past him to the next flight of stairs before he could catch you. Probably not, but it was worth a shot, right?

  "We know," He said. "It's not like you knew about us."

  You nodded and laughed. It wasn't like Barry's laugh - it sounded strained and on the verge of hysteria to your ears, like a nervous reflex. But Barry smiled like he thought it was cute or something. And that thought made your heart skip a beat.

  "Why don't you come back up to Dr. Wells's office with me?" Barry asked. His tone was casual, but his body was tensed, ready to catch you if you tried to take off again.

  You hesitated, your hand gripping the railing next to you.

  The speedster saw your uncertainty. "Neither of us is mad at you," He said, choosing his words carefully. "We just want to talk." He held out his hand to you. "Do you trust me?"

  You stared at his hand for a moment, then at his face. He was still wearing that kind smile.

  "I do," You said and took his proffered hand.

  Barry's face lit up and his smile grew wider, making you smile right back at him. That classic happy puppy face of his never failed to make you melt.

  "Hold on." He squeezed your fingers and before you knew it, there was a blur of yellow lightning and the two of you were back on the floor you had originally started on.

It was the first time Barry had run you anywhere and you were unprepared for the sudden stop. "Whoa..." You stumbled a few steps.

  "Easy there." Barry let go of your hand and gripped your shoulder instead, helping you steady yourself. He flashed (hehe) another one of his puppy smiles. "Maybe we should walk the rest of the way?"

  "That sounds like a good idea," You agreed, but as the two of you started down the corridor, you regretted it. The nerves that had prompted you to flee fired up again. They grew with each step, so that by the time you and Barry approached the office door, it felt as if a swarm of butterflies had taken up residence in your stomach. You were suddenly glad that the scarlet speedster wasn't holding your hand anymore, because your palms were now slick with sweat.

  What am I doing? You thought as Barry pushed the door open. He had reassured you that he and Dr. Wells weren't mad, so why did they want to talk to you? Maybe...

  Nope. You stopped that thought before it could fully form. They didn't want you to join them.

  Did they?

All Tags: @ivonstiel​ @meganwinchester1999​​ @mythrealfan​​ @fear0fdeathkeepsusalive​​ @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse​​ @starlightdobriks​​

The Flash: @stilloutofmyvulcanmind​

[wisdomrays]

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: Why Was the Qur'an Revealed Over A Period of 23 Years?

Before I answer this question, let's note that if the Qur'an had been revealed all at once, people would ask: "Why was it sent down all at once and not in stages?" The ultimate answer to such questions lies with God, the All-Wise and All-Knowing. Our decisions are based on a very limited viewpoint, as we are limited creatures. The Divine Decree, on the other hand, considers everything—our moral and spiritual well-being, worldly happiness, future and present—and weaves the whole into a single pattern that is coherent with Grace and Wisdom. Thus, the benefit we derive from the Divine commandments is immeasurable, and the blessing that flows from obeying them is beyond our imagination. And so it is with the method that God chose to reveal the Qur'an.

The Revelation began when it was time for humanity to reach maturity. The Prophet's mission and that of his community was to become the most complete, progressive, and dynamic exemplars for humanity, and to achieve such a level of advancement that they would be the masters and guides for all subsequent people. But these reformers first had to be reformed. Their qualities and characters had been conditioned by the surrounding non-Islamic environment in which their people had been living for centuries. Islam was to turn their good qualities into qualities of unsurpassed excellence, and to purge their bad qualities and habits in such a way that they would never reappear.

If the Qur'an had been revealed all at once, how would they have reacted to its prohibitions and commandments? Certainly, they would have been unable to understand, let alone accept and apply, them in the ideal manner. This lack of gradualism would have been self-defeating, as proven by history: Wherever Islam was taken, it spread gradually but steadily, and so became firmly established.

We see people all around us who cannot free themselves from their bad habits and addictions. If you confined such people, even if you convinced them to abandon their habits for their own benefit, they would not be happy with you. On the contrary, they would feel angry, bored, and irritated. They would complain and try to escape from your program of reform, so that they could revert to their habits as soon as possible. All the arguments and documented evidence of specialists and experts would not persuade them to change. Even those who were cured occasionally suffer a relapse. Indeed, some of those who campaign against such harmful habits as smoking and consuming alcohol still indulge in them!

Remember that the Qur'an came to change not one or two habits; it came to change everything: ways of living and dying, marrying, buying and selling, settling disputes, and how to perceive one's relation with the Creator, among others. Given the scope of the change envisioned, we can begin to grasp why it was revealed in stages.

The gradual revelation of the Qur'an prepared the people to accept and then live the virtues, excellent manners, and lofty aspirations it demanded. That so much was achieved in only 23 years is a miracle. As Said Nursi said: "I wonder if the scholars of today went to the Arabian peninsula, could they accomplish in 100 years even 1 percent of what the Prophet accomplished in 1 year?" Current campaigns to eradicate such a peripheral vice as smoking employ famous scholars, individuals, institutions, and the whole network of mass media—yet they still result in overall failure. If 20 fewer people die on the road per year after a campaign against alcohol, it is considered a great success. What the Prophet accomplished, at God's bidding, over 23 years far surpasses what all of humanity has managed to achieve since that time.

The Qur'an was revealed in stages so that its audience could understand, internalize, and apply its prohibitions, commands, and reforms. Revelation came when the need for guidance arose, without discouraging or grinding down morale: warning and condemnation preceded prohibition, appeal and exhortation preceded command. For instance, alcohol and other intoxicating drinks were prohibited in three or four stages; female infanticide in two stages; uniting warring tribes and building up a close-knit society based on brotherhood, thus raising the collective consciousness, in several stages. These difficult reforms were not gestured at or expressed in slogans—they were achieved.

Today, we design our projects according to past experience and future possibilities. Taking possible social and economic fluctuations into account, we make our plans flexible in order to leave room for any necessary modifications. Just like a young tree, the early Muslims grew slowly, adapting gradually to new conditions and thus developing naturally. Every day new people were coming into Islam. New Muslims were learning many things, gaining in Islamic consciousness, training themselves to act upon Islam, and thus becoming members of a society rather than separate individuals or mutually hostile clans. Their characters and personalities, their whole lives, were reshaped and reordered in accordance with Islamic precepts and the Qur'anic guidance.

Such was the magnitude of their spiritual, moral, intellectual, and even physical regeneration. This transformation was achieved through a balanced synthesis of worldly life and spiritual advancement, and it happened gradually, slowly yet continuously, and harmoniously.

[fishoutofcamelot]

(for the ask thing) any book/tv show/movie/song recommendations?

BRO! I heckin got you man! Now, I’m gonna skip the song and book recommendation bit because that sorta thing isn’t really my scene. BUT! In terms of TV? My rec list is like a mile long. I’m gonna include a read-more line, actually. 

BBC Merlin: You know I had to put this on the list. But the fact that you’re on my blog means you’ve probably watched this one, so I won’t go into detail about it. Available on Netflix

Mob Psycho 100: Just a cute, sweet story about a bunch of psychic kids trying to kill each other. A story with this much fighting has no right to be so wholesome. Mob is just a good boy, he doesn’t deserve all this! Fair warning, its messages about identity, self love, and growth WILL make you feel Emotions. Available on various anime pirating websites

Red vs Blue: The found family game is SO strong in this one. By far the best found family plot/dynamic I have ever and will ever experience. The characters are all so solid, yknow? Like it took me three rewatches to understand the plot, but I didn’t even care because I loved the characters SO MUCH. It’s also really, really funny (although some of the jokes have aged a bit poorly tbh). Basically about a bunch of space marines who goof off and accidentally dismantle corrupt governments along the way. Available on Youtube

Supernatural: Is it cringey? Yeah. Does the fandom suck? Also yeah. Is Destiel overrated? BIG yeah. But it’s got monsters, magic, family, and a plot that doesn’t revolve around romance - and really, what more could you ask for? And sure, a lot of people don’t really like the later seasons, but idk I actually prefer them. Season 15 has me THRIVING. I mean come on - character vs author?! Fighting the guy who literally wrote you into existence because he doesn’t want to give your story a happy ending?! Say what you will about Supernatural, but it’s one of the most imaginative shows I’ve ever seen. Available on Netflix

Avatar the Last Airbender: You like stellar animation, intricate worldbuilding/magicbuilding, and a perspective on war that is surprisingly mature for a kids show? Check it out. This show is without a doubt one of the best animated series of all time. Go on. Watch it. It’ll change your life. Available on Netflix

The Umbrella Academy: Time-travelling assassins. Superheroes. Ghosts. Talking monkeys. Murder mysteries. Baller soundtracks. This show will never give you what you expect. I don’t even think I could properly describe it to you. Available on Netflix

Detective Conan: An anime. It’s about a teen detective - think Nancy Drew but bloodier - who witnesses a crime and is fed an experimental poison in order to keep him from telling anyone. But instead of killing him, the poison turns him into a 6-year-old. So now he’s got to solve crimes and take down a criminal organization while in the body of a child. Naturally, shenanigans ensue. Fair warning, the main character becomes a bit of a Mary Sue in later episodes, but the first 300 or so are pretty fun. A few episodes are available on Netflix, but not any of the good ones. You’ll need an anime pirating website for that

Knives Out: My favourite movie ever, of all time. It’s a murder mystery that both subverts and pays homage to its parent genre in all the right places. It’s funny, it’s intelligent, and has a spectacular ending! Although I do wish the fandom would stop being so horny for Ransom, I mean he’s literally racist...No clue where you can find this tbh, I saw it in theatres

Derry Girls: Now I’m not normally a big fan of realistic fiction/sitcom stuff. Despite how funny they are, I’ve not even watched The Office or Parks and Rec because that normal daily life stuff just doesn’t peak my interest. And yet, somehow this story about a group of Irish high schoolers just has me enthralled. Very funny, very well-written, give it a watch. Available on Netflix

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood: Another anime. Phenomenal animation? Check. Fascinating plot and characters? Check. Detailed magic system that gets my lore-obsessed heart fluttering? Big heckin check. So basically two kids try to use Fantasy Science to bring their mom back to life, only the experiment fails and has some pretty nasty consequences - one boy loses his arm and leg, while the other loses his entire body and has his soul bound to a suit of armour. Now they gotta go through government conspiracies, ethical dilemmas, and Daddy Issues to try and get their bodies back. Available on Netflix

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K: Yet another anime. I know, I know, I’m a nerd, get over it. This show doesn’t have a complex plot or even complex characters, tbh, but what it does have is some amazing humour. It’s extremely funny, and it’s also just a nice show to kick back and relax to. Basically this guy who’s so op that he could rewrite the laws of reality on a whim is stuck dealing with relationship drama in high school despite being very, very asexual and very, very tired. Mostly he just uses his powers to avoid people and eat junk food, which is honestly a mood. Available on Netflix

Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated: Honestly I’d recommend almost anything that’s Scooby Doo-related because that was my childhood obsession. I used to have like 20 of the movies on DVD before my mom gave them all away. To this day I still love Scooby Doo, and watch it whenever I get the chance. But if you ask any SD fan, they’ll probably tell you that Mystery Incorporated is the best, most intelligent, most creative installment in the franchise. And they’re right (although I do wish there was less relationship drama...) Available on Netflix

Evil Genius: This is a documentary series about the Collar Bomb Robbery. Now, despite what the above list might indicate, I actually watch a LOT of documentaries, and if I were here to recommend all of them then we would be here all day. Not really ‘funny’ like the other entries on this list, it’s actually rather tragic, but definitely a cerebral viewing experience. Available on Netflix

Screwball: Now this is a documentary that IS funny. It’s about drug scandals in baseball. But the dramatic scene re-enactments are done with child actors that are all wearing fake beards and pretending to be drug dealers. It’s not only a fascinating subject, but it’s got amazing editing and visuals that have me in awe. Available on Netflix

Behind the Curve: Yet another documentary. This one’s about the rise of the Flat Earth movement. You’ll spend most of the time on the verge of having a stroke because of how stupid it all is. Available on Netflix

The Movies That Made Us: Okay okay okay last documentary on the list I swear. This one’s exactly what it says on the tin. It’s a series talking about the behind-the-scenes production of iconic movies like Home Alone and Ghostbusters. I eagerly await the second season. Available on Netflix

Monster Factory: If you’re familiar with the McElroy brothers and their brand of humour, you’ll love this. Griffin and Justin team up to make the most disturbing avatars they can create using video game character creators. The origins of the Final Pam meme. If I had a shirt with a quote from Monster Factory on it, I’d die a happy man. Available on Youtube

Baman Piderman: The dumbest show I have ever watched, but it’s so adorable and stupid and I love it so much. It doesn’t really have a plot, but later episodes allude to the presence of one and I’m upset because there are so many mysteries/questions hinted at and we’ll never get answers because it’s been abandoned. PLEASE watch it. Available on Youtube

Stranger Things: Okay, season 2 was a bit of a let-down imo, but season 1 was ICONIC and the Scoops Troop subplot in season 3 deserved its own freakin spinoff. I’m not joking. I didn’t even like s3 all that much, but the only reason it’s my favourite is because the Scoops Troop plot was so great. People call this show ‘horror’ but I don’t think it’s scary enough for that, although it is admittedly kinda spooky. If you like 80s nostalgia and the horror aesthetic, then I’d give it a watch (Do it for Scoops Troop. Do it for Robin). Available on Netflix

Jack and the Cuckoo-Clock Heart: Despite my overwhelming love for this film, I’ll be the first to admit it’s kinda mediocre. The plot is weird and the romance feels forced, but despite its flaws it manages to be one of my favourite movies. Mostly I just like it for the unique concept and beautiful ending. Also the music is off the par man. Probably because the writer/producer of the movie was the lead singer for a French band called Dionysus (what? I do my research). Available on Netflix

Wakfu: I haven’t seen past season 3, but so far it’s pretty good. You go in thinking it’s just a wholesome action/adventure show about a kid who can create portals - but then it just. Sucks you in. From its bopping theme song to its fantastic found family to the unique worldbuilding, you very quickly fall in love with it. It’s got a cool plot and also talking dragons, and it doesn’t get better than that. Available on Netflix

Mystery Skulls Animated: Technically not a TV show so much as it is a series of animated music videos with a plot, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t one of the greatest things of all time. It’s basically Scooby Doo but if Shaggy got possessed by a demon and killed Fred, causing Fred to become a ghost hellbent on revenge-killing Shaggy in return. And if Scooby was an ancient Japanese spirit that bit off Shaggy’s arm, forcing him to wear a metal prosthetic. Yeah, MSA is wild. It’s only got three videos out so far, with a fourth one coming out this October, but there’s already so much lore! Available on Youtube

Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared: Ah yes, yet another cringey entry on this list. But you know what? Cringe culture is dead!!! And despite its fandom being...like that...DHMIS really is a cool show. Think if Sesame Street was like haunted or something. The episodes about creativity and telling time remain the most unsettling, imo. Definitely worth a watch. Available on Youtube

Inanimate Insanity: Oh boy. Am I seriously recommending you dip your little fingies into the object fandom? Yes. Yes I am. This show is so obscure it makes freakin Detective Conan look popular. At its core it’s a parody of Total Drama Island and Survivor but with anthropomorphized inanimate objects as characters (hence the name). Season 2 is actually really, really good and surprisingly competent. You just gotta get through season 1 first. Available on Youtube

The X-Files: Wow, a live action series on this list? Who woulda thought??? But seriously, this show is really fun. Memes and jokes aside, I love it. Scully and Mulder are fun characters with great chemistry (both platonic and romantic), the Lone Horsemen are hilarious, and every episode is a unique adventure into the most creative acid trips the human mind could conceive of. Phenomenal from start to finish (if you ignore the last season). I have no clue where you would watch this. Pirate it, probably

Buzzfeed Unsolved: Two idiots investigate cold cases and haunted locales while being utter dumbasses about it. You know the “hey demons it’s be ya boi” meme? That came from these guys. Available on Youtube

Kingdom: Ngl, I didn’t go into this expecting zombies. Or for it to take place during Korean feudalism, for that matter. But mediocre dubbing aside, this show has such a clever concept. It takes the zombie apocalypse genre and gives refreshing, unique twists to old tropes that they feel like something new. Seo-bi is my wife and she deserves all the love and appreciation in the world, and those are just Facts. Available on Netflix

My Hero Academia: Superhero high school anime. I personally am not a fan of later episodes/arcs, but the first three seasons are pretty dang good. Diverse, colourful ensemble cast that you easily grow to adore, interesting commentary on disability (although I’m not qualified to give any actual takes on that), and a school curriculum that makes me very, very concerned for the wellbeing of these children. Plus all the superpowers - aka ‘quirks’ - are super imaginative and, well, quirky! I just wish people would stop shipping the main character with his childhood bully...You’ll need to pirate this one too lmao

Danny Phantom: The highlight of this show is its ‘phandom’, because unlike someone (*cough* Butch Hartman), we’re not a bunch of cowards. It’s about a guy who messes around with his parents’ lab stuff and accidentally acquires the ability to die! Well, half-die. He can turn into a ghost and fight other ghosts. Although the show never explores the existential, traumatic fallout of being kinda-sorta-dead, the potential for something deep and emotional is there. Plus there is a LOT of accidental subtext for a Big LGBT+ Metaphor. So much so that the Trans Danny theory is basically canon. Uhhh not available on Netflix anymore so it’s time to whip out your pirate hat, matey

And there you have it! Like I said, I have a lot of TV recommendations. And I just KNOW I’m forgetting a ton, but this is already really long so we’ll have to cut off here. 

Thanks for the ask! <3