#mira writes things ✨

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

RATING: Explicit (Mentions of Graphic Violence) Word Count: 28k Pairing: Shenko Characters: Female Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, Jeff "Joker" Moreau, David Anderson, Nihlus Kryik, Karin Chakwas, Richard L. Jenkins, [REDACTED], and [REDACTED]

The sound of his footsteps echoing softly across the marbled floor is the only one that fills his ears as he patters his way slowly throughout the base. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of a dark jacket that’s about half a size too small for him. It’s old- he’s had it for damn near forever at this point. Or at least he thinks he has- he really can’t remember when he got it, honestly. The cuffs of the sleeves are starting to fray at the edges, and the zipper had broken a long time ago. There’s a hole in one of the front pockets that he sticks his fingers through sometimes. Other times he’ll put something he needs in it- a message, a small, hidden weapon, some item he thinks he’ll need later- only to curse under his breath when he realizes it’s now lost to the void forever.

His memory isn’t great anymore, but he can’t really remember a time when it ever was, honestly.

He ducks his way past two scientists leaning over a computer interface. He doesn’t bother to offer them or the project specifications they’re working on a second glance as they leer at him uneasily- pushing their backs against the desk as he passes by. He’s used to it, by this point. It happens whenever he comes back- the way all of their eyes follow him as he slinks through the hallways looking for the right door. Sometimes he forgets where it is, and gets lost enough that he has to stop and ask for directions. Most people working at the base are usually too scared to give them to him. Something about his eyes, or… maybe his scars. He’s not really sure, to be honest. Or maybe it’s about the things he does… the things he’s asked to do by the one in charge. He’s not supposed to ask those kinds of questions, though. It’s not proper for someone like him.

As he turns down another hallway, he stops. This one looks familiar. He’s heading in the right direction now, at least. He nods to himself with a shaky breath and continues walking as a tall, burly man dressed in black fatigues glares at him when they pass by one another. He’s holding a Vindicator, and his finger slides down towards the trigger when he comes close enough to him that he can see the logo stitched onto the arm of his jacket. It’s a white, hexagonal O, with two orange lines emblazoned on either side.

His eyes dart towards the ground as the man scowls at him. Projects aren’t supposed to share eye contact with the soldiers stationed at the base. He knows that because the one in charge told him that. His job is to do what he’s told to do- no questions asked. He’s good at following orders. It’s the only thing he’s good at, honestly. At the least, it’s the only thing he can remember being good at.

When he drifts past the man, he turns down one final hallway and stops at the bottom of a large, sprawling staircase. The steps are made of a deep, black onyx- almost the same color as his hair. He closes his eyes for a moment as another shaky breath escapes his lips. He doesn’t want to go up.

No, not yet.

He knows what awaits him on the other side of the door, and he’s not quite ready to face it yet. His nerves are starting to get the better of him, just like they always do when he comes back. He stops for another moment, trying to find something to hold onto when he goes in- something to settle them in the coming battle. It’s hard to find things to grab onto when his anxieties start to get the better of him- he can’t remember a lot of things.

But he settles on something easy this time. He picks his name.

He actually doesn’t have a name. Not one he can remember, at least. Projects, ghosts, phantoms- the ones that slink through the base and take direct orders from the one in charge… they don’t get names. They just get numbers- maybe a title or an actual designation if they’re lucky, like some of the others had been. He wasn’t lucky, though. His designation is Seven. It’s the only name he’s ever known- or at least the only one he can remember.

He doesn’t have a lot of memories, honestly. He remembers his time at a facility on a planet where it always seemed to be raining- where things were always a hazy shade of murky green out of the windows that were barred above his head. The ones in charge used to make him use his biotics to fight a girl with a shaved head and dark eyes that turned a deep shade of amethyst when she was enraged.

She was much stronger than him- it was probably why she was Zero and he was Seven. She had been there much longer than he had… or at least he thinks she had. He didn’t see her that often- only when they pulled her out of the solitary room she was in and made her fight the other kids in the ring below it. The soldiers would cheer sometimes. Other times they would make bets about which one she would end up slamming into the wall with a well-placed shockwave- or which one she could obliterate to atoms with a warp. He had only fought her twice- but he managed to hold his own both times. The soldiers had to pull them apart and tranquilize her. They seemed extremely disappointed that she hadn’t managed to eradicate him- just like she had with many of the other projects. But after the second time, they pulled him out of his bed that night, loaded him onto a transport, and shipped him somewhere completely different.

He didn’t see the facility or the girl again after that.

His hands begin to tremble as he starts to walk up the stairs. He licks his lips nervously and slams his eyes shut. Part of him is wishing he could just turn back around and go back to the transport that had dropped him off a few minutes prior. He just wants another mission. He doesn’t want to debrief about the previous one. He hates debriefing- especially when he has to do it in person. When the one in charge calls you back to base to debrief, it’s almost never a good sign.

His foot slips for a moment, but he catches himself. A second later, the sound of his boots across the onyx steps begins reverberating through the abyss of the room again. It sounds almost like... gunshots. One after another. Then there’s a flash in his mind- a face standing above him. He can feel his elbows sinking into the ground and the feeling of dirt in his palms. Grit. He gazes up at the face. Four deep, black eyes- the same color as the steps he’s walking up. It smirks back at him with a needle-toothed grin and a Predator raised to his forehead as he screams. He swears he can hear a name coming out of his mouth, but he can never remember who it belongs to.

Then a crack and the vision just... fizzles out entirely. He loses it just as quickly as he’s gained it.

He catches flashes like these sometimes. It’s not often, but sometimes. It’s not always a vision he can’t remember, though. More often than not it’s just a… picture he swears belongs to him, but knows that he doesn’t really know. It’s mostly a face, every now and again. Sometimes it’s just eyes. They’re a deep shade of sable, and they belong to a girl he swears he used to know. She’s… young. In some of the pictures she’s bleeding from her abdomen. Her hands reach out to him, and her eyes begin glowing violet instead. She’s trying grab a hold of him while she screams out a name that he can’t hear. Then the room starts glowing so brightly he has to slam his eyes closed and her face just disappears altogether.

Other times she’s smiling at him. She has dimples and dark freckles that dust the bridge of her nose. Her hair is almost black, braided back behind her ears as those sable eyes glow affectionately at him. She laughs as she reaches her hands out to him. The sun is blaring brightly across a field he doesn’t know… surrounded by sights he doesn’t remember… smells he swears he can almost-

But then that one fades out too, and he loses sight of the girl altogether.

He hates her. He doesn’t know why, but for some reason, she plagues his thoughts more often than the other faces he catches glimpses of sometimes.

There’s an old man with a stubbled beard and hazel eyes. His fingers are wrapped tightly around a paintbrush as he’s arched tirelessly over a canvas streaked with colors he tries to commit to memory. Each time he sees the man, the colors on the canvas are different- but they’re always beautiful. He wishes he could remember them more, but they slip away every time he tries to think about them. The only one he ever managed to commit to memory is a vague streak of a sun and a moon- and even that’s hazy most of the time.

Other times it’s an old woman. She wears a jumpsuit stained black with oil. The sleeves are rolled up to reveal elaborate mandalas that twine their way up her arms until they disappear under the fabric. Her skin is wrinkled, and her eyes are cerulean- like the pictures of the sky he sees on occasion. They glow brightly as she grins back at him. She’s holding a wrench as she slides out from the underside of a sky-car. Sometimes the girl is with her, watching her with wonder in her own sable eyes. He doesn’t see the old woman as often as the others, though.

The only other face he can remember is a middle-aged woman. Her hair is dark, and it curls loosely around her cheeks. Most of the time she’s hunched over a plot of dirt- at least from the pictures he can remember. He’s usually there with her, and sometimes he can feel the grit under his nails. He likes the feeling this time- it’s different than the picture of the thing standing above him with the gun. She grins at him as she hands him a bowl filled with strawberries. He can’t tell what she’s saying, but it eases his mind, regardless. Her presence is a reassuring one in his head.

He wishes he could see her more often.

He stops as he reaches the top of the stairs and his breath hitches in his throat. The one in charge wouldn’t like it if he knew he was thinking about them- the faces he sees when he closes his eyes. He never told him about them after he began working for him when they brought him here from the facility. Part of him was nervous that they would try to take them away from him when he came here. He knew there were things from before his time at the facility he couldn’t remember- things they had probably taken from him for his safety. They had done that before… or at least he thinks they had. Making sure his focus remained on the mission was what was important. His biotics needed to stay in control- that’s what the one in charge told him. And he was right. His biotics could be… problematic sometimes.

He raises his hand to open the door, but then he freezes again. His mind turns back to the faces. Maybe he should tell the one in charge about them- the people he sees when he closes his eyes and tries to drift off on the rare occasions he gets to sleep. Sometimes they reassure him, but more often than not they torment his mind with names that allude him. He doesn’t remember most of his dreams- he really never has. But he remembers their faces- because sometimes he’ll see them when he’s awake, too. It’s not often- not usually as often as he’ll see them in his dreams. Usually, it’s triggered by a fleeting image, sometimes something else- a smell, a touch, or a feeling he thinks he used to know.

But then he remembers that projects… that phantoms slinking through the hallways like shadows tucked against the walls... they don’t know things. That he doesn’t know things. He just knows what he’s told to do. That’s what matters.

Not the faces of people he doesn’t know.

He takes a deep breath and nods to himself before he grabs the handle and pushes it open, slipping inside as he pulls it closed gently behind him.

He takes two steps forward as his eyes land on the window in front of him. The room is bathed in a pale orange glow emanating from the nova on the other side of the glass. It mirrors and dances its way across the marble before it settles on the toes of his boots. His eyes glance very briefly at the chair settled in the middle of the room. The one in charge is sitting in it, with his legs crossed. He’s facing into the nova, his arm resting on the edge with a cigarette perched between his fingertips. He’s dressed in a deep, navy suit and his graying hair is slicked back. He pulls the cigarette up to his lips and takes a puff, but doesn’t turn his chair to face him. His heart begins racing.

He knows the one in charge is glowering at him from the backside of those icy, cybernetic blue eyes- even if he isn’t looking at him. Maybe a small part of him is glad he didn’t turn around when he walked in- looking into them always sent a chill down his spine.

“Subject Seven.” His voice is quiet, but it’s pensive. The one in charge is thinking, but he’s upset… he’s frustrated. He’s angry. “Your last mission went… poorly.”

His fingers start to tremble again at his side. He begins picking aimlessly at a loose thread in his pocket as he taps the tips on his other hand against his jeans anxiously. He swallows the knot in his throat as his leg starts shaking and he closes his eyes. He needs to figure out how to respond.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. An apology? He shouldn’t apologize- the one in charge hates when he does that. “I lost control… It won’t happen again.”

He can hear him snort as he pulls his cigarette up to his lips to take another puff. He presses his eyes closed again, and grips the fabric of his pants so tightly his knuckles start to turn white.

“That’s the exact same thing you told me last time.” He exhales the smoke in a small streak that begins to trail towards the other side of the room before it just as quickly dissipates out of view. “It doesn’t seem like you know how to maintain control.”

He bites his lip bottom lip, chewing on the skin aimlessly. He’s not wrong. His biotics became stronger after the experiments… after his time at the facility. But that came with the unfortunate side effect of losing his control sometimes. It was worse when he saw the pictures. The flashes of their faces. Sometimes they’d cause him to flare out... make mistakes he didn’t want to make. He’d end up doing things he shouldn’t have done because he couldn’t stop himself from doing them.

This last mission had been no different. The job was meant to be simple- all he needed to do was speak to the Batarian and collect the package for transport back to a facility. It was something he’d done a thousand times before- something so easy he never should have made a mistake in the first place.

But then he sees those eyes staring back at him. And they look just like the ones from the picture in his head. The ones that belong to the one that was glaring at him… mocking him… pressing the gun against his forehead while it laughs in his face and he screams a name he can’t remember.

And he just snaps. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t the same Batarian- that all he was seeing was a picture that didn’t belong to him anymore. The Batarian is nothing more than a pile of ash on the ground as heat pulsates from his skin and violet light twines around his arms.

But now there’s no way to pick up the package for transport back to the facility. The pictures taunted him into making a mistake that cost him the mission- and now he has to suffer the consequences.

He shakes his head again. He needs to let the pictures go- stop trying to remember the faces that belong to people who don’t matter to him. He can’t afford to lose control anymore- he wants to be able to remember things.

“I can maintain control. It won’t happen again.”

He bites his lip harder, pressing his tongue against the back of his teeth as he feels the taste of iron in his mouth. The one in charge barely moves, but then he leans back over the armrest to put his cigarette out in an ashtray. He folds his hands in his lap and sighs deeply. A moment later, he nods curtly.

“Very well, Seven. I’m willing to offer you another chance.” His voice is still quiet, still pensive- but it’s less frustrated now. Maybe the apology worked this time. He makes mistakes, but not often. Maybe the one in charge sees that. He was good at following orders- he has to be. “I have another mission for you. This one is… different from the others. More… personal. I need someone I trust on this.”

His hands finally stop trembling. He trusts him. He exhales a quiet sigh of relief as the one in charge begins detailing the brief of the mission. Part of him isn’t really paying attention- he knows the details will be sent to his omni-tool after the meeting anyway. But he watches the way his body shifts in the chair, making absolutely sure he never makes a move to turn back around. He doesn’t want to see his eyes. He remembers the last time he had to see them- but he can’t remember anything about the mission he went on before that.

As the one in charge finishes talking, he waves his hand at him- indicating that he wants him to leave. The only thing he does remember after their conversations.

He follows suit quickly- he doesn’t want to frustrate him again. As he spins back around on his heels, he pulls the door open, slips back out of it, and shuts it closed behind him. He leans against it gently- pressing the back of his head against the cool metal frame with a shaky sigh.

His eyes slam shut and he sees hers again- the girl’s. They’re sable this time. She’s huddled over a computer interface with a few empty mugs situated at her side. She has a blanket tossed loosely over her shoulders. Her face looks as pensive as the man in charge’s as her eyes gloss over a screen filled with maps. It looks like… stars. Constellations? Charts of some kind, if he had to guess. He can’t tell. She seems tired, but she turns to look at him and grins, pointing to something on the screen.

He pushes it away this time. Forces the image to disappear back to whatever corner of his mind it had previously been locked away in. He doesn’t want to remember it anymore- there are so many other things he’d rather see than a girl he hates. So many other things he’d rather remember than the faces of people he doesn’t know… The memories that don’t belong to him… The pair of sable eyes that haunt both his waking hours and his nightmares.

He begins walking down the steps again and stuffs his hands back into his jacket. He sticks his fingers through the hole in the pocket and exhales sharply as he listens to the sound of his footsteps echoing throughout the abyss of the room. Today, he has his name. That’s more than enough.

But then he remembers how he sees it sometimes. How it’s become an itch in his brain he can’t quite scratch away. How he’ll notice it when he looks in the mirror and catches himself staring for just a moment too long.

Sometimes it hits him like a truck before he swallows the feeling and shoves back down to the deepest part of his skull. The way he tries to bury it so far down that he never has to think about it again. Fuck, he wishes it would work- but then that feeling comes back all over again the next time he manages to catch even the slightest glimpse at his reflection.

One of your eyes is sable, too.

[punksdoll]

hey, im the damian anon💓

Can you write Damian x reader with enemies to lovers where they are forced to team together for the mixed tag team tournament and they win it all and when they get backstage he takes her to his locker room and kisses her

~~~𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒆~~~

gif not mine like, comments, & reblogs appreciated

𝑫𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ^owner of gif

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒏, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚.

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒃𝒉…𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆😁. 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅𝒅<𝟑𝟑𝟑

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔😏, 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆, 𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 ✨𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆✨ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝒎𝒊𝒙𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒂𝒈 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂𝒍, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒄 𝒊 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆😞, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

translations: Hola cariño: hello love/sweetheart/honey/etc etc. pero coño, mira ver: but dam, watch yourself. Claro que sí: of course. Chupa me: suck me (my dick without actually saying my dick.). Salte: get out/move. culo: ass. Mira pinche cabron: look fucking (any swear word tbh but I use it for asshole.) Siéntate: sit down. Lunes: Monday. No hice nada: I didn’t do anything. Exactamente: exactly. Tenemos una problema: we have a problem. Noches: Night. ¿estas bien?: are you good/ok? Que linda: how pretty/so pretty. hacemos la finisher tuyo: let’s do your finisher. Nos ganamos: we won. Mira Mamaguevo: oh my god cocksucker or ay cocksucker. Cálmate cálmate. No voy ningún lado: Calm down, calm down. I’m not going nowhere.

not proofread

“You will be competing in the mixed tag team tournament.” Adam tells y/n as soon as she sits down on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Y/n looks at him with a raised eyebrow, “since when was that a thing?”

“Since today, since now. I want you to be in it.” Adam says.

“Am I going to be able to pick my partner?” Y/n tilts her head to the side.

“You’ll be finding out who it is right now.” Adam smirks, “go get ready, you have a match right now with them.”

•••

Y/n walks down the ramp with a smirk as she makes eye contact Bianca Belair and Motez who are watching her. She had no clue who her partner was which made this whole thing all the more excited. Their match was the first match of this tournament and the first reveal of her match. She had options of course of who she wanted it to be.

Braun Strowman, he’s a big strong guy.

Cody Rhodes, he’s hot.

Drew Mcintyre, so hot and mean.

Seth Rollins would seem nice but he’s most likely with Beck

Y/n gets in the ring and gives Bianca and Montez a nod as mutual respect as the show goes on commercial break.

“You know who you have?” Bianca asks as they switch corners.

“Not a single clue…” Y/n shakes her head, “I’m hoping for Braun maybe, Cody, and Drew. Maybe even Seth but he’s probs with Beck.” Y/n shrugs.

“Who don’t you want?” Montez asks as he sits on top of the top rope.

“Damian.” Y/n spat.

Bianca and Montez both chuckle as they move over to their corner once the show is back. Everyone stares at the ramp as they wait for y/n partner.

The lights go purple and suddenly “The Other Side,” starts playing. Y/n narrows her eyes as she watches who will come out. She knew it had to be either Finn or Dominik because she had made it very clear to Adam that she did not want Damian.

“before I go and get ready,” y/n clears her throat as she stands up, “Do not make Damian my partner.”

Adam stares at her and smirks, “and if i do?”

“Your views won’t stay up for long.”

Y/n watches and her face drops as Damian appears and immediately she looks at the referee and shakes her head. “I am NOT doing the match with that thing.”

Referee raises his hands up, “you’ll be disqualified from the tournament.”

Y/n’s jaw drops as she looks at the ref then back at Damian who has a smirk plastered on his face as he stares at her. “asshole…”

Damian gets inside the ring and holds up his Señor Money in the bank before turning towards y/n with a smirk. “Hola cariño.” He smirks and immediately y/n runs at him.

“Y/n is attacking her partner!” Michael Cole laughs as they watch y/n slaps Damian’s arm multiple times.

Damian looks down at her, amused as she pushes and slaps his arm. “You. Aren’t. My. Part. NER.” She sends a punch on his arm, “YOU AREN’T MY PARTNER!”

“Clearly I am. Now move your ass out the ring.” He lifts her up and puts her over the rope, outside the ring before handing over his briefcase to the ref.

Y/n scowls as she stares at the back of his head, “i hate you.”

“The feelings mutual.” Damian called over his shoulder before the bell rings and the match is on its roll.

•••

Throughout the match, y/n made it her mission to slap Damian every chance she got. Whether that be to tag herself on by tagging him unexpectedly on the back or tagging him in by slapping his chest. Did that really affect him? No. Did he enjoy seeing her get annoyed by his existence? Absolutely.

Damian absolutely loved the idea that was brought up to him with being y/n’s partner when he had overheard her convo with Adam. It would mean to be able to fuck with her every chance he got and to be around her everyday. He enjoyed knowing that his presence alone can make her go crazy and make him wish he was dead. He loved it. He loved her.

He always had and always will. He just approached it the wrong one which is why she hates his guts.

They’re in Nxt when they first met and at catering. Y/n was with Bianca as they sat at their own table with Montez and Angelo. Damian had been staring.

“Who’s she?” Damian looks over at Keith Lee who looks over and raises an eyebrow.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Keith answers, “she’s from raw but is making an appearance today.”

“And I haven’t heard of her because…?”

“She’s been out due to an injury, she’s making her come back here.” Keith says.

Damian nods and gets up, “I’m gonna get some more food.”

In truth, Damian had seen her get up and was going to make it his mission to talk to her.

Y/n is putting food on her plate with Bianca by her side as they converse.

“Are you like debuting here?” Bianca asks, “we could really use some more views.”

Y/n shrugs, “I don’t know yet. They just wanna see me start anew ever since my injury.” She pops a crouton in her mouth from her plate before gathering some more.

“do you wanna go back to the main roster?” Bianca asks.

“Of course,” y/n nods and turns around only to bump into a chest and getting her food all over her.

Bianca gasps as she stares at y/n who watches her plate drop. Y/n is fuming. She is embarrassed. She can already feel the stares on her as she stares down at her plate that is upside down on the floor and the food that’s on her. She wanted to cry. She didn’t even want to look up at the person she bumped into, too focused on the fact that she did something so little that embarrasses herself immediately.

“pero coño, mira ver.” Y/n hears a deep gruff voice say as they back up a bit to see the messed that they cost.

Y/n looks up at the person narrows her eyes as she watches him stare at her as if it was her fault. “Are you blaming me or something?”

“Claro que sí.” Damian scoffs, “you’re the one who should have listened to your surroundings.”

Y/n narrows her eyes and stares at him before leaning down to grab her plate that was knocked out of her hand and throw it at him, “Chupa me.”

Damian will admit that the way he went about it was fucked. But he knew his people and he knew that they’d get over it, especially with his charm. Clearly that didn’t work and now he regret ever even doing such thing to her. After that day, it led to Damian taking it upon himself to make her time a living hell in Nxt and for y/n to try and hold back and not choke him.

She had left unfortunately. She had left Nxt to be back in her main roster, leaving Damian empty knowing he won’t be able to see her and continue on what he started. Until he got the message that he was moving up the main roster and he made a name for himself. Finding out that there was a mixed tag team tournament? Adds 10 bonus points to his success. Finding out y/n will be in there? 10 more.

Damian feels as slap on his shoulder making him chuckle and turns around to see Y/n getting into the ring and shoves him towards the ropes, barely budging. “Salte.” She demands.

Damian smirks and leans down towards her, “give me a kiss and i will.”

“get over yourself.” Y/n rolls her eyes before turning herself towards the match.

Damian chuckles as he gets out the ring and behind the ropes, watching y/n. “Your culo looks great in those shorts!” Damian smirks.

Y/n snaps her head at him with wide eyes and a flustered face, “excuse me?” she says.


Y/n was used to this treatment from Damian ever since he came into the main roster. It was always backstage, nothing more. Hearing it in front of people? It gave her a sense of warmth that she refused to acknowledge as she ignored his comments and continued fighting.

Y/n caught the win for them and immediately rolls out the ring, storming up the ramp as she makes her way backstage.

She was going to get her answer on why the hell Damian is her partner after saying not to have him.

•••

“Mira pinche cabron.” Is the first thing that comes out of y/n’s mouth as she enters Adam Pearce’s office, stopping in her tracks when she sees Damian.

Damian looks over at her with a smirk and pats the chair next to him, “Siéntate…”

“I thought I told you I didn’t want him as my partner.” Y/n glares at Adam who looks at her with a bored expression. “How did you even get here before me.” She stares at Damian who simply gives her a smirk.

“You need to learn how to work with him, that’s why I paired you both.” Adam shrugs, “Don’t like it? You’re disqualified from the tournament.”

Y/n’s jaw drops as she stares at Adam. The ref was most definitely right about that. “Are you kidding me…”

“Am I laughing?” Adam sasses.

Y/n’s eyes darken and she goes to jump at Adam only to get caught by Damian who lifts her up as she thrashes against his hold, “See you Lunes for our next match.” Damian winks before walking out the office and closing it, setting Y/n down as she stares at him with a glare.

“What did you do. What did you say. He never pairs me with someone I don’t like.” Y/n demands answers.

“No hice nada.” Damian shrugs.

He lied.

Damian walks into Adam Pearces office right after Y/n left with a smile. He wanted to make her smile in so many ways.

“Priest,” Adam raises an eyebrow and looks up at Damian over his glasses, “what can i do for you?”

“Partner me up with y/n.” Damian motions over to where Y/n had just left.

Adam shakes his head, “she just threatened to drop my views, absolutely not.”

“you do realize she’s bluffing right? She loves this place.” Damian scoffs.

“I believe her.” Adam dismisses.

“Did she leave when I got here when she told you she would if I did?” Damian smirks and Adam pauses as he stares at his papers, in thought. “Exactamente.” Damian chuckles, “put me with her.”

Adam sighs and nods, “Alright, but you’re explaining to her.”

Y/n looks him up and down before nodding slowly, “i’m going to make your life a living hell through all of this.”

Damian smirks, “you do know we’re also going to be sharing a hotel room, right?”

Y/n sucks in a breath, “helll noo.”

“helll yesss.”

•••

“Why why why why.” Y/n walks inside her and Damian’s hotel room, walking quickly over to the bed that she will be claiming only to stop and see one bed. “oh HELL no.”

Y/n twirls herself around and immediately bumps into Damian’s chest making her suck in a breath as he looks at the one bed then at Y/n. “You need to really start paying attention to your surroundings…” he chuckles.

“This cannot be happening right now.” Y/n mumbles as she looks back at the bed then at Damian before shoving him away, “move.”

Damian moves to the side and watches as she storms out of the hotel room, no doubt about to go to receptionist. He takes his time to look around and sees the couch. He walks over and checks, nodding once he realizes it can turn into a makeshift bed.

Meanwhile, y/n is storming towards the front desk and plasters a fake smile. “Hi. Me and the man i was with, our room has only one bed.”

The receptionist looks up and frowns, “were you guys not a couple?”

“fuc- no. no we are not.” Y/n smiles.

“Well let me check if there’s any other rooms with two beds then.” The receptionist goes digging and y/n waits in front of her impatiently. “I’m so sorry…but the only other one is with one bedroom.”

Y/n clenched her jaw before nodding slowly, “that’s fine, thanks.”

Y/n walks away and back to her and Damian’s floor. She walks into their hotel room and sees him walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist and his body dripping with water. Y/n can’t help but gawk as he stops when she enters.

“Dam…” Y/n mumbles as she not so subtly checks him out.

“Like what you see?” Damian smirks.

Y/n snaps her eyes up to his face, “no.” She says with her face flushed.

“You were checking me out,” he smirks as he walks over to the makeshift bed. He unwraps the towel from his waist and immediately y/n shouts, covering her eyes. “I’m wearing underwear.”


y/n peaks through her fingers and huffs as she drops her arms seeing him with underwear. “there is only one hotel room left but it’s with one bed. We’re stuck with this one.”

Damian shrugs, “that’s fine.”

Y/n looks at the makeshift bed then back at Damian, “i’m not sleeping on that.”

“I know.” He says as he puts on some pajama pants, “never said you would.”

Y/n frowns, “are you sleeping on that…?”

“Mhm,” Damian nods and y/n starts feeling bad.

She usually wouldn’t have given a dam if he did but knowing he’ll be sore the next day, she couldn’t help herself. So the words that came out were a shock to her.

“I’ll sleep there…you can sleep on the bed.” Y/n says.

Damian and her both stare at each other with complete shock. “Your joking?” Damian raises an eyebrow and when y/n just stares at him with wide eyes he knows she’s not. “oh you’re not…”

“I know…” Y/n looks at him warily.

“Nah, you can have to bed.” Damian waves her off as he gets on the makeshift bed and y/n nods slowly.

“ok…it’s still up for grabs if you want it. you can always put me on that one…”


Damian looks at her warily and nods slowly, “uh huh…”

Y/n nods before rushing towards the bathroom to take herself a shower, leaving Damian with a smile that broke onto his face. That request alone made him feel all giddy inside and he was actually considering the offer.

That night though, he went against it and stayed his ass right on the makeshift bed.

•••

The weeks of the tournament was hell for y/n. Every dam hotel room they got it was with one bed. Every match they had Damian just had to get on her nerves and make her want to backstab him during every match. Every comment that came out of his mouth would make her flustered and her stomach warm up, which she did not like.

So far they were the ones winning each and every match they were in. Getting closer to the top of the chain for raw to win the whole dam tournament. On smack down, AJ Styles and Mia Yim were the ones reaching the top for their roster.

It was clear that Adam had a lot of hope on them seeing as they’re the only ones that have been winning.

Y/n and Damian walk into their new hotel room and y/n lets out a loud groan as she sees one bed, again.

“Unafuckingbelievable.” Y/n huffs and Damian rolls his eyes.

“It’s not something we haven’t handled before, cariño.” Damian says as he walks over to the couch.

Y/n rolls her eyes and throws her suitcase on the bed as she unpacks her pajamas.

“Tenemos una problema…” Damian says as he stands up straight and turns towards her. “It ain’t a sofa bed.”

Y/n hearts drops to her stomach as she feels herself get flustered, staring between him and the bed. “Oh…” was all Y/n said.

Damian sighs and looks at her, “i’ll go see if there’s any other rooms.”

“or i can sleep on the sofa…” Y/n blurts out and Damian stops in his track as he stares at her with a raised eyebrow.

“If anyone should sleep on the sofa, it should be me.” Damian says, “you can have the bed.”

“You’ve been sleeping on the sofa ever since this started, let me sleep there.”

“No.”

“yes.”

“no.”

“yes.”

“no.”

“yes.”

“yes.”

“no.”

Damian smirks as y/n lets out a shout, “i meant yes damit.”

“i’m sure you did.” He chuckles as he sits down on the sofa. “Why not share it?”

Y/n snaps her eyes towards Damian who seems to be nonchalant by his question but really, his heart is beating and it’s almost beating out of his ass.

“What?” Y/n questions.

“Why not share it…seeming as we won’t take yes or no as an answer. Problem solved. Only if you want to though.”

“and if I say no?” Y/n asks with a frown.

“I’m still sleeping on the sofa.”

“We can share.”

•••

Y/n is laying down on the bed on her side as she listens to the hotel shower running. Her heart was pounding as it gets closer to Damian ending his shower and them sleeping with each other. She made herself take a shower first so she didn’t have to walk out and see him on the bed, knowing she’ll force herself in the sofa.

They never slept in the same bed together. It was always Damian sleeping on the sofa bed whenever they had this type of situation.

Y/n snaps her eyes over to the bathroom door when she hears the shower stop and hear the curtains move. Her heart was pounding faster if that was possible as she waits for that door to open.

Damian himself was not doing too well. He was but you know. He was just as nervous as she was. When he had told her that there was no sofa bed and suggested they’d sleep together, he did not expect her to say yes, of all things. He expected a “hell no,” or something close to a no that had a swear word combined with it.

Damian takes in a deep breath and opens the bathroom door and walks out the bathroom door, making eye contact with her as she lays on her side with her arms curled on the side of her head. Y/n watches him as he walks by the hotel bed and on the side that he claimed. She didn’t want to turn her head to stare at him but she did feel him dip the bed and slowly get in. Their backs facing each other.

“Night…” y/n whispers as she keeps herself away from him.

“Noches…”

•••

Y/n had been avoiding Damian. For multiple reasons that is(no she isn’t.) She thinks it is, but it isn’t. She just practiced reasons just in case he was to ask her why she’s been avoiding him. The actual reason was because of what happened that morning.

Y/n whines as she hears her alarm go off, indicating that it was fine for her ass to wake up for work today. Y/n slowly opens her eyes and frowns when she hears something thumping underneath her. She also felt something soft but hard against her. It was comfortable actually. She felt herself pressing her head into the thing underneath her and gripping her arms that was around something. She was too comfortable. She was slowly falling back asleep until she felt whatever was underneath her, move. That immediately made her eyes snap as she slowly takes a side glance over at what she was lying on. She seen a tattoo on the right chest she was laying on and she immediately flies up as she looks down at Damian who her arms caging his head as he slowly wakes up. Out of instinct, y/n rolls away and ends up falling off the bed with a thud.

Damian jolts awake as he looks around, to see y/n side empty and his chest cold as if something was lying on there. “y/n?”

“yeah…” y/n mumbled as she stays on the floor.

“¿estas bien?” Damian asks with his morning voice that has y/n closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath.

“mhm…” she hummed, “just…chillin.” she says as she slowly gets on her knees and starts crawling to the bathroom.

“ok…”

She didn’t even know if Damian knew that she had slept on him. That thought alone evaporated from her mind as she didn’t want to think about that. The embarrassment of knowing that he might know? She couldn’t handle that.

Y/n walks out her locker room with her gear on and ready to start the last match for the tournament. Her and Damian vs AJ Styles and Mia Yim.

“You’ve been avoiding me, cariño,” Y/n stiffens as she hears Damian’s voice as he walks over to her.

“No i’m not.” Y/n says as she starts walking with him trailing behind her.

“Yes you are.” Damian scoffs, “since this morning may I add.”

“why are you worried about that when you should be worried that the match we have is today? It’s to decide who wins the whole dam thing.” Y/n excuses as she gets them to the curtains. “Bye bye.”

•••

“Bye bye.” Damian watches as Y/n walks out backstage and towards the arena.

He knew what had happened. He had woken up in the middle of the night when he felt it.

Damian’s eyes snap open when he feels another weight on his body. He goes rigged as he feels arms wrap around his neck. He slowly looks down to see y/n’s head on his chest and her arms around his neck, cuddling against him.

“y/n…” he whispers gently. He tries removing her arm away from his neck but her grip only tightens. He didn’t mind, he really didn’t. But he knew how embarrassed she gets and if she woke up to cuddling him? Even more embarrassed for her.

Y/n whines in her sleep as she pulls herself as close as possible to Damian, refusing to let go in her sleep. He smiles a bit as he stares at her peaceful face.

“Que linda…”

Was he going to tell her? Possibly, possibly not. He was still debating.

“your on.” Someone tells Damian and he walks out to the arena.

•••

Damian and Y/n stares at each other as Mia and AJ are both in between them. Mia on y/n side and Aj on Damian’s side. They were trying to figure out where the hell to go from here. They had the upper hand, they just had to figure out how to use it.

“hacemos la finisher tuyo.” Y/n says and Damian raises an eyebrow before nodding and they both get right at it.

Y/n claps her hand in front of Mia’s face right as Damian did before setting her up for The Reckoning.

They both pin the duo down and win the match as the crowd goes crazy and the announcer announces them as the winner.

They ignore though. They’re too busy staring at each other with emotions coursing through their eyes as the ref helps them stand up and raise their hands.

“Nos ganamos,” Damian says as he walks over to y/n who nods slowly.

“yes we did…we won the whole dam thing.” Y/n swallows as she stares up at Damian with an unfamiliar feeling.

Damian snaps and throws her over his shoulder, making her scream as he gets out of the ring with her hung.

“MIRA MAMAGUEVO!” Y/n shouts as she thrashes in his arms while the crowd cheers for them.

Damian storms up the ramp and backstage, ignoring everyone that stares at them as he leads them to his locker room.

“put. me. down.” She smacks his back as he walks into his locker room and shuts the door. Y/n feels herself get set down and before she has the opportunity to open her mouth, it’s caught in a kiss.

Y/n automatically closes her eyes as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down for more.


Damian smirks in the kiss as he wraps his own arms around her body, lifting her up a bit to meet him to his height.

It ended too quick for y/n as she chases after his lips when he pulls away, making him chuckle. “Cálmate cálmate. No voy ningún lado.” He smirks.

Y/n huffs and covers her face when she realizes how desperate she looked. “Why’d you kiss me…?”

“Give you your prize for getting us the win…” Damian says as he lifts her head up to look at him, “and to show you that i love you.”

Y/n feels a smile appear on her face at that. She’s accepting that what she was feeling was that. Love.

“And…i might love you too.”

[vodika-vibes]

Helllllooooo ✨ I just found you and your writting is **chefs kiss** it reads so incharacter and there’s a comfortable blend between conversations and thoughts/descriptions. I can picture it so clearly, it’s like I’m reading a mini episode 😄

If requests are still open I really liked the last piece you did with crosshair and the med doctor and was wondering if you could write a sequel to it (doesn’t have to be, it can be its own thing too)?

I just love the idea of crosshair getting into the relationship, trying to keep it a secret and failing. I think he would want it to be secret cause 1) it’s all new to him, he needs to adjust and 2) he can’t let his brothers and omega rub it in that they were right 🤣 But because it’s a secret he now has to find time to be alone with the reader and it’s harder then he thought. Of course it all falls apart when someone catches them kissing probably 💀

Anyway, thankyou for reading my word vomit and for sharing all your writing with us 😄

You'll Be In My Heart

Summary: You and Crosshair are dating now, something you never thought possible before. And, when you end up stuck doing something that you vowed you'd never do again, Crosshair is there to help.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F! Doctor Reader

Word Count: 1165

Warnings: Mentions of alcoholism, heated kissing

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar @Kimiheartblade @padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

A/N: Hi there! I'm so glad that you like my work! Thank you so much for your request, and so you know, barring things like Christmas or medical emergencies, my requests are always open! The story title comes from the song I happen to be listening to when I start writing. Luckily, this time, is sorta kinda almost fits, lol

Click here to be added to my taglist

“You have no idea how grateful we are that you were willing to come out of retirement,” You smile kindly at the older woman who’s holding both of your hands in hers, “Doctor Willis is a good man and a good doctor, make no mistake. But he is old and set in his ways. Some fresh eyes on the island will make life so much better.”

“Well,” You joke lightly, “That’s what I’m here for. And I’m happy to help.”

The older woman pats your hand lightly, “You know, dearie, I have a grandson a little older than you—”

“I’m sure he’s a fine young man, Mrs. Waters.” You interrupt gently, “But I’m still trying to get myself settled here.”

“Oh! Of course, of course!” She pats your hand again, and then stands, “Well, I’ll just run over to the pharmacy and get my new medicine and get on out of your hand, Doc.”

“Have a nice day, Mrs. Waters.”

“You as well, dear.” 

You lean back in your chair as the older woman leaves your office, and you sigh as you press the palms of your hands over your eyes. When you retired, you had no intention of un-retiring.

But when you arrived here and met the doctor and saw how he treated some of his most vulnerable patients…well, you had to do something. Even if that something was unretiring and rejoining a career that drove you to alcoholism before.

There’s a knock on your office door, and you drop your hands away from your face to check your schedule. But before you can pull up your calendar, the door slides open and a familiar man steps into your office.

“Ah, Crosshair.”

“I bring food,” He replies, holding up a bag of food from a local restaurant, “You have time?”

“For you? All the time in the world.” You kick an open chair over to him and watch as he settles in the chair and opens the food bag.

The scent of something delicious wafts towards you, and you release a happy sigh. Knowing Crosshair, he picked up your favorite meal and dessert for you to enjoy.

His gaze drifts from the food over to you as he hands you a container of food, though he doesn’t release it as you try to take it, “You good?” He asks.

You feel a momentary surge of annoyance, that you squash with ease. He would be able to tell that something was bothering you, wouldn’t he? He’s known you for ages after all.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar, kitten.”

“I’m an excellent liar, Cross. You’re just good at reading me.” You lightly tug your food from his grip and set it on your desk so you can open it, “Ooh, pasta!”

“I know your favorite food, kitten,” Crosshair points out as he opens his own container, “I’d better by this point.” He adds with a roll of his eyes, “Anyway, what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

Crosshair stares at you, disbelieveingly.

You sigh, and stab a noodle with your fork, “Alright, alright. Stop nagging.” You grumble, “I just…” You sigh and stop your fork, “I never intended to return to medical work, Cross.”

“So quit.”

“I can’t do that. These people won’t have a doctor at all if I quit.” You point out.

Crosshair sighs and lowers his fork, “I remember how bad it was before we left.” He says quietly, “How you were drunk more often than you were sober, how you trembled whenever someone came to you for medical attention—”

“Stop.”

Crosshair pauses, then moves his chair so that his knee is pressed against yours, “Look, kitten.” He pauses, to gather his thoughts, “I love you. And I want you to be happy. And the last thing I want is for you to try to destroy yourself again.”

Your lips twist at the memory, “I know.”

“Kitten,” He pauses again, and then he leans in and presses his hand against your cheek, “Cyare,” The familiar word tumbles from his lips in a sigh and you shiver, the only time he calls you that is when he needs you to pay attention to him, “If you need to quit, then quit. Everyone else will manage.”

“But—”

“You do not get to destroy yourself to save these people. I won’t allow it.” Crosshair interrupts.

You blink at him, genuinely surprised, and then you release a soft laugh and reach out to press your hands against his cheeks, “What would I do without you?” You ask with a smile.

“Well, you’d still be working in a cramped little medical facility, for one.”

You laugh and lean in to press your lips against his, your lunch forgotten.

Crosshair eagerly tugs you onto his lap, his hand tangling in your hair as he angles your head so he’s able to deepen the kiss. “We’re going to get caught,” He mumbles against your lips.

“Your concern, not mine.” You counter, as you lightly nip his lower lip, causing him to tighten his grip around you.

You’re sure that Crosshair would continue the discussion, only you lightly drag your nails through his short hair, and all of his desire to bicker about it leaves him in an instant.

Crosshair’s strong hands adjust you so that you’re settled more comfortably on his lap, and he pulls you flush against him, wanting you as close as he can get you. And you’re more than happy to go along with it.

In fact, you’re so distracted by the press of his lips against yours, that you don’t notice your office door opening until you hear a muffled laugh and a throat clearing.

You pull away from Crosshair to glare at the person at the door, and then you sigh when you see who’s standing there. “Ah…Hunter,”

Hunter has a wide grin on his face as he looks from you to Crosshair, and then back again. “Just friends, huh? I hope you know I’m going to tell…oh…everyone.”

You turn your attention from Hunter to Crosshair, who looks deeply annoyed. “You do that,” Crosshair grumbles as he reaches around you to hit the door control on your desk, slamming and locking the door in his older brother’s face.

“Hey, doc! We’re having a family dinner this weekend,” Hunter calls through the door, “All of the significant others are going to be there. You definitely need to come.”

You absently trail a light finger down Crosshair’s cheek, your head tilting questioningly. He smiles at you and lightly kisses your fingers, “I’d like you to come.”

“I’ll be there,” You call through the door, “Now go away. I’m busy.”

You hear Hunter laughing, and then he’s gone, and you happily turn your attention back to Crosshair.

“Oh? You’re busy?” Cross asks.

You hum and press your lips to the sensitive skin under his ear, “I’m hosting a biology lesson.”

And Crosshair laughs, “I promise to be a most thorough student.” He promises before catching your earlobe between his teeth.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Amazing!! Ok so I’m not sure how this would work, but maybe for the Mira x reader she could be xaden’s older sister or something who was best friends with Mira when they were younger (and maybe they had mutual secret feelings)

Ofc then the whole traitor thing ruined that and Mira didn’t want to associate with her anymore (friends to enemies to lovers anyone?) - though the canon time line might have to be altered😅

And then say if mira spoiler was somehow actually aware of the rebel base and that her brother was alive and she was aiding the rebels bc she’s cool

And reader just so happens to be stationed at the house etc, and they haven’t seen each other in years but mira’s immediately like damn she just got even more beautiful (in her head bc why would a sorrengail expose weakness)

Anyway I picture them as a kind of opposites attract trope, where reader is badass but in a more femme fatale way, where she takes people down because they don’t expect a pretty girl with good hair and style to be a threat you know? Or even if she is a talented healer or something like that!

Anyway, feel free to ignore all of this, I’m just so excited that you’re writing for fourth wing!!! I can’t wait to see what you come up with☺️

*wipes dust off this request* I apologize for taking so long... needed more pain from Iron Flame apparently to get to this... I hope this will find the person who requested it. ✨🤍

Interlinked

Mira's head was spinning. Too much. It was all too much. Too many things to bring to life... quite literally. She flew fearing for her sister. Only to find a whole rebellion clan squirming right beneath her nose. Then there was her brother who she had wept for years. Who's death had ripped the last bit of Mira's caring heart out. Burnt it with all the things that had belonged to Brennan. She had morn all of it. Over and over again blaming herself for it.

Mira had hit her older brother when she first saw him. She felt his nose brake right beneath her knuckles but nothing had prepared her for what appeared right behind him. Mira had staggered back. Her face paling of last bits of color. She quickly reached for a necklace she never took off. Two iron rings interlinked together. The part of her she had kept hidden away from everyone's praying eyes. "YN", she barely breathed out. Because there was no way. You too have died. Your name was on the scroll. Right after the fight you both had. Right after the next that hunted Mira even now. "No", Mira shook her head. "I'm alright", Brennon said even with the blood dripping through his palm, his good hand squeezing your arm. "Yn", Mira staggered forward but you backed away quickly. An ache in her heart only grew as you spoke, "I'm still dead to you, lieutenant", your words were like poison. Seeping deep into Mira's skin.

That had been a couple of weeks ago. Ever since you had done a marvelous job at avoiding Mira. She only caught a glimpse of you in some of the meetings. Saw you mounting your dragon. Or up in the sky. You were lethal. So graceful one would not expect such power to be rooted in you. But... but that was what had always drawn Mira to you. While you two were little she thought that her job was to protect you. How wrong had she been? It was you who Mira should have listened to. You who she shouldn't have rushed to judge.

Mira's body collided with another person right as she turned the corner. She reached to steady the frame in front of her but the moment her fingers brushed over the skin... Mira blinked as you came into her full vision. Wind-swept hair, rosy cheeks, still in your flying leathers. "Watch where you're going, Sorrengail", you huffed, turned to outstep her but Mira quickly caught your hand, "Y/n, you can't run from me forever", there was a light plea in her tone. One that you knew didn't come easy.

"I have nothing to say to you", you yanked your hand out of her grip. "I do", Mira breathed, "There hasn't been a day that I haven't been thinking of you", she breathed and you couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh, "Oh, please...". You turned to face her, "You said it yourself back then in the courtyard. I don't belong in your world". Guilt rippled through Mira. She had been so naive back then. Eager to play by the books. Knowing only black-and-white truths. Rebellion mark had been a deal breaker then but now...

"Don't bother with it, Sorrengail", you hissed, "Don't call me that, you never called me that", Mira stepped closer to you, her eye's blazing. "That was before you gave up on us", you were inches away from her, nearly reaching for the dagger. "Do it", Mira urged you, "Stab me, slit my throat, jab it into my heart, because it will never come close to the pain I felt when I made the biggest mistake in my life". You took a sharp breath in, you didn't want to show your emotions, but you knew that she had caught that glimpse of emotions that shined in your eyes.

Mira reached for the necklace beneath her flying leathers, "I never took it off", she shook her head, "I never let go of you". You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to not break. To not let the years of anger chip away so easily. But this was Mira. Your Mira. The girl you had fallen in love with slowly even if you two were painfully aware that you might never have a chance to truly be together. Your chest heaved as you two stood there staring at each other. Your hand moved towards your neck, tugging away the same two interlinked loops. A soft cry slipped through Mira's lips as his eyes landed on the familiar metal. One that she had made for you.

But the moment of hope lasted only for a heartbeat as you backed away from her, shaking your head, "This changes nothing", you said quietly. "We can try. Let me prove it to you", Mira pleaded, trying to reach for you. "Prove yourself to my people first", you said bitterly, before turning away and rushing up the stairs.

[swagreecrow]

Stefany (princesa Aricornio)

Stefany : estoy emocionada por la gala de esta noche que me convertí en princesa de la amor 😊👸🦄💖🎊✨🌌*se agacha las orejas* Oh, pero no tengo a nadie que me acompañe 😢🥺💗💞💓*mira la luna y ve una estrella*estrella del cielo desearía conocer a un Pony que ame 😟🥺🌠💖💕💘💝💓

@inspiredwriter @kawaiibunga @hedgehog-dreamer @luna-tmnt @dai-su-kiss @levana-art @razzy-zaz @raphy-the-turtle @raphaelsrightarm @donatello-writes @donnies-fake-eyebrows @rainbow-squirrels-7 @raisans-art @akarihamato04 @wolfroks @another-tmnt-writer @angel-of-the-redacted @android-cap-007 @androgynousenemydetective @lordfreg @psiquic-a-blog @imaginashon @imababblekat @imthegreenfairy86 @angelicdavinci @all-things-tmnt @red-knight-raphael @kathaynesart @rexim-djm @reptile-eye @red-knight-raphael @reddenedsais-inactive @lazyafgurl @theroachsalad-blog @thelostandforgottenangel @mikey-angelo-hamato @mikeyshulagirl @miss-andromeda @mishacakes @mishajeans @venisdemilo @baraturts @foulbonkcolorempath-blog @dragonfairy19 @tmnt-life-of-a-terrapin @tmntvenisxleo @nomonoma @notjustdragonspages @lyzuka @coffeestation @donnies-the-encyclopedia @rl800 @cthonyxa @silverwatergalaxy @s1eepy-0 @the-paty-dude @turtlepanic

[inkovert]

➳My Dearest Enemy | a re-introduction

Genre: YA literary fiction Status: Writing second draft | read here Themes: coming-of-age, friendship, healing/forgiveness, death/grief, identity, love, family

People often say, “You never forget your first.” First love. First kiss. First time. In a warped sense of logic, the same sentiment applied to loss. After becoming intimate with death, it pervades every cell in your body, clouds every aspect of your life. Your existence is suddenly split into Before and After. And like a newborn tasting the world for the first time, you become painfully aware of all your firsts without them. First birthday. First Thanksgiving. First Christmas. The first meal, first breath, first sunrise that you experienced in this new world to which they are unknown. 

Summary:

Cami has one wish. To get accepted to the arts program at her father’s alma mater. But after facing constant rejections from magazines to publish her work and being told her drawings are “too detached” and “impersonal”, she decides the time for idealism is over. Convinced to give things another chance, she enrolls in an art class to improve her skill - but lack of talent isn’t what’s blocking her art. It’s everything she’s locked inside her. 

The loss of her father a year prior. Suppressed resentment toward her mother. Guilt. Refusal to let anyone close. On her journey to find what’s missing in her art, she’s forced to confront everything she’s been burying within herself for the last year. She crosses paths with Spencer, a troubled teen who may be more similar to her than she initially believes; Vince, who hides his complex character behind a promiscuous front; and a girl who curiously keeps showing up to Cami’s work place. Before she knows it, she’s taken on a transformative emotional journey that leads to the discovery of a shocking truth. 

(characters below the cut)

Characters:

Main characters

Cami Meyers (she/her): can typically be found drawing in her sketchbook or hanging out at the Vinyl Yard, where she works, fawning over new records. insists she's fine if anyone asks, but she's stopped talking to all her friends (except Mira) because she knows they expect her to be normal and she no longer knows what that means, and whenever she goes for a run she ends up pushing herself past her limit in order to feel something other than guilt and grief. those who've encountered her can tell she has a big heart, which is probably why she guards it so heavily.

Mira Fakhoury (she/her): falls quickly and uncontrollably head over heels for girls and wonders why the male species even bothers trying. loyal as hell when you earn her trust. views Cami as her long-lost sister and is ride or die for her. acts tough, confident and free-spirited but if you raise your voice at her or direct your anger/disappointment toward her she will freeze and turn fragile due to past ✨ trauma ✨ Spencer Henderson (he/him) pisses off everyone he talks to. either gives direct/blunt/sarcastic responses or answers a question with a question because deflection. can't be asked to be nice to anyone because what's the point. usually has his head buried in a book and/or earphones in. feels hopeless about his life and future. hates depending on people and believes no one out there cares whether or not he's alive. grows frustrated and confused when Cami suddenly shows him compassion despite the fact that they've constantly been at each other's throats since day one. irritated that she keeps catching him off guard and that he doesn't totally hate talking to her...

Vince Garcia (he/him): resident himbo. doesn't take himself or life too seriously. known around town as a ladies man and it's certainly possible that that has earned him a slap in the face or two. but maybe that's what he wants. it's so much easier to self-sabotage when you've convinced yourself you don't deserve to find love again. not after what happened. Cami is the first to see through his facade; she's cute and intrigues him and he's determined to wear her down whether she likes it or not. he may be a little too carefree, but no one can say he isn't persistent.

Side characters

Eli Owens (he/him): best friends with Cami's brother. has had a thing for Cami since he first met her. thinks she's the coolest girl he's ever met and the fact that she's so elusive only increases his interest. golden retriever type guy.

Noah Harris (he/him): doesn't like labeling his sexuality. mutual friend of Spencer and Vince. fools people into thinking he's kind, polite and charismatic. is actually manipulative, deceitful and gets bored of people easily. good at reading others and gravitates towards people that intrigue him. while everyone else is playing checkers, he's playing chess, and moves people around the board as if they're merely a means to an end. actually deeply cares for Spencer and is a bit hurt that he doesn't view him as a friend.

Jeremy Meyers (he/him): Cami's younger brother (by 1 year). eats, breathes and sleeps soccer. has always had a strong sibling relationship with Cami, and greatly admires and cares for her, so much so that he gets hurt when she hides things from him or doesn't come to him when she's going through a tough time.

[wulflynn]

Cullen Rutherford Fanfiction Recommendation...

This is a list of AO3 fics that I've really enjoyed reading, and I wouldn't have found them myself if it weren't for other recommendation posts on Tumblr. There are still plenty more that I've yet to find that I know I'll enjoy, but as of right now, these have been amazing reads that I'm sure others are bound to enjoy as well if they're fond of Cullen c:

WARNING: pretty sure they're all rated for mature audiences, but if you click on any of these please check the tags to decide if you'd like to read any further.

I hope the formatting for this is correct, if there is a correct-or typical-way to format these recommendations. I just did it how it'd made sense to me *shrug. Correct me, otherwise. Teach me how to Tumblr.

Thank you to the authors for your creative prowess and for giving me permission to add your stories to this list! I'll add more over time, I'm sure. May you receive all of the kudos and feedback, and continue to find joy in creating your stories. <3

Wrong fandom but I'm always compelled to say, "kill write well...and often." x3

Updated 04/08/2023: A couple more have been added! c:

Summary: When the Inquisition disbands, Cullen disappears without a trace. After he is found begging in the streets of Val Chevin, his long-time friend and former lover, Mira, comes to find and bring him home. As she tries to help him quit lyrium for good, they discuss their past and finally say all the things between them previously left unsaid.

Summary: Everyone around her seemed incomprehensibly eager to have the rebel mages close the Breach. Never mind that it made her a funnel in some magical experiment, one that they didn't know for sure would even work. No, much better if they found the templars instead - for herself and for Myca. Yet it was only the suspicious commander who shared this view. Suddenly she had a reason to get on his good side.

Broken Song by Decim

Summary: Remy Hawke and Knight-Captain Cullen have been entangled with each other since their first meeting… she’s made sure of that. What started out as an ill-advised affair quickly grew into something more, though circumstances made that certain lines could never be crossed. Once she leaves the city and her position as Viscountess, they say goodbye for good, not anticipating that only a year later they will meet again when the world is coming to an end.

An alternate version of Dragon Age: Inquisition in which Hawke attended the Conclave and became the Herald, with flashbacks to Dragon Age 2.

Thank you to @decimdraws on Tumblr! ✨

Wander the Drifting Roads - Pt. 1 of Nothing Wrought Shall be Lost by mortonsspoon

Summary: After defeating Corypheus, Lavellan thought the worst was behind them. When Cullen is captured and exposed to red lyrium, the Inquisition loses its Commander and Lavellan loses the man she loves.

The two face diverging paths forward: Lavellan attempts to find purpose in life after the end of the organization they built together, and Cullen must find a way to come to terms with the darkness he's faced for a decade before he loses his memories of her forever.

Book of Memories - Pt. 2 of Nothing Wrought Shall Be Lost by mortonsspoon

Summary: There is a book in Comtesse Lavellan’s library in Kirkwall. It has been meticulously bound in leather, with the shape of a tall, spreading tree and a lion embossed on the front. Inside, there are a number of writings: recollections from a darker time, hopes and fears, and moments archived in writing for their own safekeeping.

Or: An anthology of what happened to Emmaera and Cullen before, during, and after the events of Wander the Drifting Roads.

*Tags will be updated as chapters are posted

Thank you to @shivunin on Tumblr! ✨

This is a series of works and I will post the description and notes rather than the summary like with others c:

Description: "When your skies are grey, and your whole world is shaking, to the Moon and back, I'll love you more than that."

Notes: A collection of short fics and drabbles about Cullen Rutherford and Eurydice Lavellan.

Thank you to @star--nymph on Tumblr! ✨

In Waking Dreams by AParisianShakespearean

Summary: They fall in love slowly during the war at the height of the Inquisition. During their romantic and eventually sexual relationship, the former Circle mage and former templar discover they love one another as more than the Commander and Inquisitor, more than the rose that survived and endured the winter, and more than a forgotten goddess of old. Then war, like everything, ends. They dream of dawn after stars. *** The love story between Inquisitor Lydia Trevelyan and her Commander. As the Inquisition begins and unravels, so do their own personal struggles, issues, torrid pasts, and feelings for one another. Sprinklings of other characters here and there. Slightly diverges from canon. Rated E for later chapters.

Thank you to @a-shakespearean-in-paris on Tumblr! ✨

Description: Take a look at the Thedas with Inquisitor Trevelyan, a noble, a mage and a leader. Her adventures weren't filled with just action and fighting, but it came with a hint of drama and romance - something the nobles would often gossip about.

Thank you to PoptartCandy (I'm not sure if they're on tumblr, but this can be amended if so)!

Summary:

Evelyn Trevelyan, once on her way to become a Senior Enchanter at the Circle of Ostwick, now an apostate, has had a very hard last couple of years. And it looks like she can expect to have very hard years ahead of her, too.

Luckily for her, she has plenty of experience hiding just how awkward, clumsy, and terrified she is of everything. Also luckily for her, she discovers that there are people she doesn't have to hide from. Friendships, family, and even love can be found and forged in the unlikeliest of places. Bridges are built to span the breach between warring peoples and hearts even as they fight the Breach in the sky and the one that caused it.

Yet another retelling of the adventures that occur in Dragon Age: Inquisition. Mostly canon, divergences are like a scenic route. Filling in the holes, building the friendships and relationships, and connecting the dots that we don't see in-game. From the light and playful moments to the dark and violent twists and turns, joy and angst, eventual smut, thus the M rating.

Thank you to Kartoonist (I don't know if they're on tumblr either, but if so this will be amended)!

[xxsycamore]

—𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙐𝙜𝙡𝙮 𝙂𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧!✨

► SYNOPSIS:

"Let's say I understand the idea behind this," Isaac says through gritted teeth, doing everything in his power not to throw a fit and make things worse, "DOES IT HAVE TO BE ON MY BIRTHDAY?"

▍isaac, comte, leonardo, arthur, theo, vincent, dazai, sebastian, jean, napoleon, mozart, shakespeare ▍rating: G ▍tags: Crack; Christmas Party; Birthday Party; Modern Era; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Humor; Ugly Holiday Sweaters; Blackmail; Drunkenness; Alcohol; Singing; Exes; Napo's exes; Leonardo and Comte are dating; and arthur and theo def have something going on; Minor Violence ▍wordcount:  2,784

▍masterlist

▍a/n:  HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ISAAC! ... also, is it really Christmas if I don't think of at least one of the disaster ikemen friend groups™ having a disastrous party? Needless to say, I had TONS of fun writing this, and I hope you might do, too ❤ Merry Christmas! Regardless if you celebrate or not, I hope this makes you laugh! ✨🎅🏻✨

Written for mine and @voltage-vixen’s ‘Tis The Season For Love challenge! PROMPT: Starting with preparations way too early

This is ALSO an entry for @scummy-writes's Isaac Week 2022! Day Two: Birthday Wishes || Traditions

"Let's say I understand the idea behind this," Isaac says through gritted teeth, doing everything in his power not to throw a fit and make things worse, "DOES IT HAVE TO BE ON MY BIRTHDAY?"

Aaand so much for his attempts. It's rare of him to raise his voice, and Dazai emphases on that fact with an exaggerated scene of covering his ear. Maybe he isn't feigning being in pain. He is, surely, close enough to the screaming Isaac to get his eardrum busted. Even though being so close to him is something he did to himself.

"Not my fault that you have your birthday on Christmas day, Apple-kun. Rules are rules and we all agreed by them."

Now you decided to follow rules, Isaac thinks, still not having gulped down the fact that he's now practically tied to the clown in the room. They're stuck together in an oversized sweater which is by the way very ugly, even by his own standards. Not that he dresses up ugly or anything like that! It's just that he doesn’t mind wearing clothes that are regarded as being something that grandpas wear. At least that's what Arthur says all the time, finding more and more excuses to load his wardrobe with some of his own clothes that fit him. Speaking of Arthur, Isaac's sole reason to still be having some of his mind not lost to the absurdity of all that's happening on this Christmas-birthday party, is that Arthur is not doing any better than him. Is he a bad person for being happy about that? Probably yes. But he's currently atoning for it via this punishment, so he might as well indulge secretly in it.

The sweater in question is mimicking what those cut-outs for pictures do, by having a caricatured version of Santa and an elf in the front, Isaac and Dazai's heads respectively in the right place to complete the (cursed) picture.

Arthur and Theo are sharing a similarly ugly sweater, called the getalong Christmas sweater (much like the one currently worn by the duo Isaac + Dazai) or something like that. The design is simple yet screaming in the worst of ways; it reads "ON THE NAUGHY LIST" in comic sans, in a fashion that resembles what happens when you move a picture on Microsoft word. It's simply off-center, with a stamp of a Christmas tree barely fitting in the front of the shirt. It all might be a result of a mistake in the printing, or maybe there IS someone so vile out there designing those things on purpose.

Theo and Arthur laugh in sync at the sight of the next suffering victims of the friend group's new tradition, then stop, realize that they've been accidentally sharing an emotion for a mere second, and frown. Arthur's frown is smaller, though. He almost seemed too eager to get in the sweater with Theo earlier, though Isaac might have been imagining things. He's not so sure anymore. They've all already drank a lot.

As if by some strange miracle, neither the slutty writer nor the dumb writer are his center of annoyance tonight.

He's always regarded Mozart as someone who shares the same fate as him, having to deal with the rest of their friend group and their dumbassary.

Yet, why is he not sharing a sweater with anyone? He's never been an example of friendliness! It's so unfair. He feels betrayed.

Of course, the answer is very simple. With the amount of alcohol passed around, it was only a matter of time before someone got Mozart to drink, and the man has a nonexistent tolerance for the stuff. Instead of passing out or something like a normal person, of course he has to become a whole another person when drunk. Isaac feels bad for the possible blackmailing that can follow, with phones already drawn out and cameras capturing the rare event. On the other hand…what are they exactly going to blackmail him with? Being a good person for a change? Ooooh how very embarrassing. On a second thought, Isaac doesn't feel too bad with his cold feelings towards the musician. He might not be sharing an ugly sweater with anyone but he won't even remember it the next morning anyway!

Said musician is busy laughing and patting people on the back, enjoying everyone's company and pouring them more drinks. Which is very welcomed for the punished ones, because surely they can't coordinate themselves good enough to get the job done when even opening the bottle proves to be a difficult task when having one hand each.

"Leonardo, it seems like this idea of keeping anyone on good terms is working well. Let us have a toast about that." Comte raises his glass to his boyfriend, leaning slightly on him because of how tipsy he managed to get. Leonardo, who has crazy high tolerance on the other hand, has to remind him that he just raised a toast to him a second ago.

"Another one? Damn, ok, if you insist. You can thank me again for coming up with the getalong sweater idea."

"Excuse you?" Comte focus his gaze on the man, every trace of his previous bliss erased from his face. "It was clearly my idea, Leonardo."

"I remember that you gave me a kiss for it. I can still feel it." Leonardo smirks, confident in his version of the recent events, emphasizing on it by making kissy lips at Comte.

Comte keeps a cold gaze. He simply splashes the rest of his champagne on Leonardo.

"Hey! Now I need to change."

After some reminiscing about how tranquil his past birthdays used to be, before meeting all of those people, Isaac snaps out of his trance as he sees the hosts of the party, Leonardo and Comte, re-entering the room together, sporting an getalong sweater. Their design is even more eye-catching than the rest, mostly because it's so damn unintentional that it's hilarious. It's actually a good model, a cute pair of reindeers on the front with nothing off about their looks. But the text above seems to have suffered an awfully unfortunate lack of supervision, as evident by the typo, or typos made in it. It reads, "I'm he's," on Leonardo's tits, with an arrow to Comte, and then "He'm I's" on Comte's pecs, with an arrow to Leonardo. Isaac stops looking at their chests for the time being.

He didn't even realize they had a fight, mainly because of their already strong old-gay-couple energy and the fact that it was normal for them to have some quarrels from time to time and call them off pretty quickly. Interesting how they ended up sharing the same fate as the rest of the room.

Mozart is, once again, untouched in terms of punishment.

It's amazing that Isaac can glare at him, ignoring everything surrounding him, including Sebastian's poor attempt of putting himself on the naughty list by """accidentally""" knocking off someone's glass off the table. He proceeds excitingly repeating, "I'm a naughty little butler! I'm a naughty little butler!" followed by asking to be punished to be put in a sweater with someone else from the room. It seems like everyone could do, and poor Vincent is too much of an angel not to sacrifice himself. He lies that it was his glass that was knocked off, and in the next moment they're together in an abomination of a wool clothing. Vincent is unironically enjoying the sweater, which is depicting Edvard Munch's Scream, but with a Christmas hat on the screaming one's head. If the execution wasn't so bad, it would actually pass as an unique design.

"Ohh, it seems like it's time for the birthday boy to blow off the candles!"

Arthur's exclamation MIGHT have been just so Napoleon can stop drunk-singing already. Sorry, he's not drunk. That's what he insist, at least, but his little concert says otherwise. It's not a Christmas party without ABBA and other classics, that much everyone agrees upon, but Waterloo followed by Last Christmas I Gave you my hearttt but the very next daaay YOU GAVE IT AWAAAAY seems to be telling a story somewhere between the lines. It's a good time he was stopped before he can find an even sadder song to vent his feelings through.

It's impressive how Theo and Arthur are able to introduce the big cake into the room with one hand each, but their surprising sync is a story for another party. In an award event of Arthur trying to find his lighter in the pocket of his pants and Theo shouting something at him in the process where he touched in the wrong place, soon all the candles are lit and they all sing the so very familiar happy birthday tune.

 Isaac smiles a genuine smile and thinks of a wish. For the most of the evening, he wished Dazai would just pass out or something, so he doesn't have to deal with him anymore. Now he makes a more proper wish, and blows all the candles. Everyone starts clapping, and for a second, it turns wholesome. In the next second, Isaac feels a hand on the back of his head, shoving him down. He should've seen this happening.

*BANG*

Surely now, Isaac's face meeting the cake shouldn't make such a scary hitting sound.

That's when he remembers that he's conjoined with Dazai. Having his head pushed down would mean that Dazai was pushed down, too, meeting with the… table.

Arthur realizes that even before him, but his reaction is not the same as Isaac's. His eyes widen but then,

"Three times for good luck!"

BANG

BANG

Dazai doesn't stand back upwards this time. He might be dead, or at least has passed out.

Holy shit, I think my wish just came true, Isaac doesn't say out loud, features frozen in shock.

"Pft. Ahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHHAH"

The hearty laugher doesn't belong to Isaac, or Arthur, or anyone else in the room who hates the purple-haired freak, much to everyone's surprise. It's Mozart's. He seems to be very entertained from the show taking place in front of him, alcohol dulling his sense of what's morally right to laugh at, or maybe assuming that Dazai is playing dead. It wouldn't be the first time, after all.

This is Isaac's chance!

"Hey!" He points towards Mozart where noone dared say anything, "That's not very friendly of you!"

"Yeah."

"He has a point."

Isaac feels truly triumphal now. His birthday certainly started well, with justice coming to light, and with Dazai passed out.

Napoleon sobs from the side, moved from the scene. "I knew you'd call out evil when it happens, Isaac. That's why you're my good friend."

"Thank you, Napoleon."

"You deserve only nice things."

"Thanks, Napoleon."

"I hope noone breaks your heart EVER, Isaac."

"Uhh. Thanks?"

As his friend breaks down in real manly tears, Isaac scans over the room with a horrific realization: everyone else has a pair already. It's funny how they all ended up having to go through the getalong sweater punishment, even sweet Jean who is now in a sweater with Shakespeare. Their sweater is very, very bland, with a fuzzy string that is supposed to be a garland going from one sleeve to another, but looks more like a worm on a string attached to a random sweater. And the color is pretty ugly too. Thank god Jean's face is there to make things a little prettier. Oh, and Shakespere is there too, he guesses. But enough about these two. With all the possible candidates narrowed down to his dear friend Napoleon, Isaac feels karma weighing down on him.

Soon the crying Napoleon and the laughing Mozart are shoulder to shoulder, sporting an ugly getalong sweater. As noone predicted that many of them in use, the only one lying around is not even a christmas-themed one, brought on the pile by who-knows-who, and it has an among us illustration. Theo snaps a picture of the lovely disaster, just as he did with everyone that night, even if his camera roll is mostly taken by Vincent pics, because by his words, "he's the only one rocking it".

***

Much, much later in the night, Mozart starts feeling a familiar headache.

He hates himself for being tricked into drinking so much yet again. The person next to him who keeps wiping his tears in HIS sleeve is not helping with his overall state.

"Napoleon, that's enough. They don't deserve your tears and you know that."

Seeing that it had no effect, Mozart changes his strategy, wanting to give him a pat on the back along with what he says but then he remembers it's impossible because of the stupid sweater. How did they end up like this, anyway?

"Why don't you invite them here? Alexander loves drama, and Wellesley, well… I'm sure he'll find a way to have fun too."

Napoleon stops sobbing, letting out a weak laugh instead. "You know we can't. You remember what happened last time when we played uno."

That's true. The destructive aftermath of it was threatening the lives of many. They simply couldn't get along.

Mozart sighs, feeling his headache worsening.

"Look, let's at least throw that thing away." Having had his full of this sweater bullshit, he pulls it over his head until it hangs loosely on Napoleon. The latter gives no indication of wanting to part with it anytime soon, but that's alright, whatever makes him happy. Mozart stands up and finally gives him that encouraging pat on the back. "I'm going to get you water and some tissues, wait for me."

Well, at least he can be not an asshole. And he was going to go search for painkillers anyway.

Unsurprisingly, things don't work in his favor and he finds none in the kitchen, but in the process of searching for them he remembers the second cake. A second cake is another tradition of their friend group, seeing that many birthday parties result in somehow destroying the first one. He takes a plate and cuts a nice slice of it, bringing a small fork along.

In the corridor, he runs into the person he was searching for, for a chance.

"Hey Isaac."

The strawberry haired man stops on his tracks, visibly surprised. He holds a glass of water and what appears to be painkillers.

"Hangover too?"

"Ah, no, actually those are…for you. I figured, uh, that you might feel not so good after all that."

Mozart makes a surprised humming noise, thinking for a bit then sitting right there on the floor, leaning against the wall. It's unsanitary and pretty much against his  principles, but he's going to take a long and thorough bath when he goes home anyway. And he's afraid there is no available sitting area left where there are no weirdos.

Isaac follows suit, leaning his back on the opposite wall, handing Mozart the glass and the pills. He receives the slice of cake in return.

Before popping the pill in his mouth, Mozart nods towards the cake. "It's for you."

Isaac is surprised, almost embarrassed even. He didn’t expect that, and guilt is still heavy on his chest. He knows it must have been due to the alcohol that he held a temporary grudge against Mozart, he knows that the musician knows none of it too. But even after bringing him painkillers, he feels bad.

"You know, Wolf… I might be the reason why you ended up having to wear a getalong sweater with Napoleon. I'm sorry."

"Hmm?" Mozart mutters, finished emptying the contents of the glass. "Oh, that's fine. I'm glad it was him and not someone more annoying. Thank you."

Oh.

"You're not mad?"

"No? Why would I be. At the end of the night you're still the only one with a brain around here. Oh and hey, Happy Birthday, Isaac."

Isaac smiles, busying himself with the cake before he can do something more embarrassing, seeing that he's already blushing.

"Thank you."

"I can only imagine how it was being stuck all night with Dazai. My apologizes."

Isaac gulps down his bite, eager to say something. He also just now realizes that the cake is apple-flavored, and he's pleasantly distracted by that. As a whole, he needs to admit, his birthday actually has started very well. Sitting here on the floor eating cake in the company of Mozart, on this… a little unhinged Christmas-birthday party organized by his friends, he is thankful.

"Oh, don't worry about him. He hit his head thrice and passed out. You were there, do you remember?"

"No, I don't. Woah. That's amazing. Please tell me more about it."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia2 @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @tiny-wooden-robot @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @atelieredux @cilokgoang let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[excaive]

Have you ever said anything about rogers parasite? Cuz I’m super curious about that!! Or is it spoilers you can’t say? -🐉✨

Well I can't say much because story reasons, but if you ask Roger about his parasites, you'll get a different answer depending if it's within or after the main story of Black Orbit:

First thing: minor parasites will often communicate with u by projecting little mental emojis in ur brain. cutest shit ever!!!!! fucking travesty most people literally won't notice bc they don't consider minor parasites buddies in the same way as major parasites. Get some 😥😭💀 in ur brain that you can't decipher as ur minor parasites trying to tell u they're withering away bc you don't know they actually can communicate and feel things :(((

Second thing: I remembered i made lingo for referring to minor and major parasites bc who has time to say minor parasite or major parasite. that's Too Much. It's not casual enough in conversation. But I don't use it when I write about them here bc that just gets confusing and it is mainly used in verbal conversations in Black Orbit. Most common lingo: Minor Parasites -> Miras, Bits Major Parasites -> Maras, Budds Modified Parasites -> Moras, Mods, Mids

anyway I hope Roger's answers didn't really clarify anything <3 (affectionate) But also this video I reblogged not long ago should tell you everything you need to know about his major parasite. littol creachure shaped.

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

RATING: Explicit (Graphic Violence) Word Count: 21k Pairing: Shenko Characters: Female Shepard, Zaeed Massani, Aria T'Loak, David Anderson

“Josie!”

The sounds of his shrieks are muffled, but guttural- hoarse even. It’s a picture of blurred feet kicking and flying in nearly every direction in a desperate attempt to shove them off of him. A flash of violet light in his hands that twines its way up his arms disappearing just as quickly as the sounds of his radius cracking deafens the room. The smell of thick, ebony smoke and burning flesh clogging lungs- and then the taste of iron.

The taste of blood.

“Josie- help! I- need you- to help me-” He cries through huffed gasps of pain. Heavily armored hands close in around him. A blurry pair grasps at a bunch of onyx-colored hair from the top of his head, slamming it against the hefty aluminum refrigerator door. It sends a flurry of drawings, magnets, and half-torn pictures fluttering to the ground like leaves during early Mindoiran autumn. Vermillion streaks from his brow, trailing toward his lips. Armored bodies close in around him, but he pushes himself against the refrigerator with a pained grunt.

Another flash of hazy violet light permeates the room, filling it briefly with the muted sounds of pained moans as the bodies hit the floor- one after another. His hand grabs the table, vaulting himself to his feet with a slight stagger. He begins hobbling- a blurry image limping closer and closer. His eyes are fuzzy as they shift from violet to sable- the edges starting to meld together in a haze of mish-mashed, murky colors. Then, the blur is replaced by a feeling of warmth as his hand reaches down.

“Josie, we have to-“

His voice is cut off by a shriek as his body comes careening down towards the floor. Surprise is replaced by anguish as one of them smashes their boot into his back. His agonized bellows cut throughout the room, as another one of them grabs his right leg and begins dragging him further and further away.

“No- Let- Let me- Josie- Help me!”

An arm reaching out, but it isn’t his. Another flash of violet light that begins snaking its’ way from palm... To wrist… To elbow as the hand tremors violently through the blur. Chipped jade nails covered in dried blood- a bracelet made from multicolored rubber bands loomed together caked in mud. There’s an attempt to focus that light- to use it. Trying to find some way to protect him.

But then the violet light fizzles out just as quickly against the blur. The hand falls as the edges begin to shift from blur to darkness.

“Josie! Please- help- help me!” He screams- a muffled, croaked sound that begins to fade against the edges of the blur. Then, a flash of nails- bloodied claw marks in the wood of the floor made by the resistance of his hands as his body fades further and further away.

The blur is gone now- replaced almost completely by a wave of darkness. The jade-nailed arm feels heavy – a weight that can’t be lifted as a high-pitched noise envelopes the room and the large hydraulic door whooshes open with a soft metallic whir.

“Josie!”

His last shriek.

His last expression is a picture of pain- of anguish- of agony. Through the darkness, his eyes showcase something worse than fear as the hydraulic door slams closed, and his bloodied face disappears into the void.

Then, his final image is replaced by a wave of onyx. The smell of smoke returns- the scent of burning flesh, and the taste of iron. His screams ring over and over through the void of darkness on the other side of the hydraulic door for those few moments as the heaviness settles and breath becomes shallow. He calls again and again, but the words are hollow- nothing more than sounds being swallowed whole by the blackening vacuum.

And then just before the darkness fades to nothingness and the heaviness overtakes, one more sound- one short, resounding crack that deafens the room, echoing for what feels like hours through the darkness.

And the sound of his voice goes silent.

[game-set-canet]

I love Christmas and every year i can't wait for December and Christmas because somehow the Christmas holidays are something really important for me. I love to spend Christmas in a quiet way with my family and every year i write a little letter to my closest friends of how much they mean to me. And i want to do the same here on Tumblr:

Dear mutuals, dear people i love to see on my dash bc you make me happy, dear friends,

my year wasn't easy. There was so much happening in my life in 2022 and a hugh part of it wasn't that positive or beautiful.

But as funny as it might sound i think you guys really helped me through this whole sh*tshow disaster: sometimes with your really sweet and caring dms, sometimes with encouraging comments under my posts, sometimes with very creative and funny asks or just because you made me smile a little with one of your posts.

I love loging on to Tumblr because i know i won't get judged because of things that i do or things i don't do. I know i can be quite ✨special✨ sometimes and i can be really annoying or i don't make any sense. And i know that it's not always easy with me (since i tend to open dms, read them and forget to answer them or stuff like that but i want to say i appreciate every single message you send and i love talking to you).

So i want to say thank you: thank you for listening to my (sometimes really uninteresting) person rambling (and still liking it), to my motogp/2/3 followers: thank you for dealing with my tennis obsession (sometimes I'm not aware that a third of my blog consists of Alcaraz, Rublev and all the other tennis players), to my tennis follower: thank you for dealing with my motogp/2/3 (and Rinaldi) obsession (and sometimes I seem to forget that another third of my blog already consists of posts about how much I love Canet, Bezzecchi and Rinaldi), to my wintersport-fan-followers: thank you for following me although i seem to forget that all the wintersport athletes still exist in summer and don't post a single word about them.

Thank you for making me laugh with your posts, comments and asks. Thank you for often encouraging me when things aren't going so well.

So, to those who celebrate it: Merry Christmas! Apart from that, I wish you all the best, that your wishes and dreams come true and also (although today is December the 24th) all the best for 2023.

Every single one of you deserves the world and I probably wouldn't have made it through the year without you.

Yours, Mira

thank you to everyone who follows me and therefore reads this!

and a special 'thank you' for your dms/asks/comments or just that you are on Tumblr and post:

@waru-chan8 @colourful--bubbles @lxndonorris @bwehdal @andreyrublevs @lewizhamilton @tam-is-blogging @vivalaxnda @melissa-leaf @augustofernandez37 @soronya @ryoyukobayashis @aliceinqueensland @melxncholyman @charlitosalcaraz @thedutchgirl46 @collecting--stardust @racingmuppett @hola-felicidad @kodachromatics @worldchampionpeccobagnaia @ofbooksandstardust @bahattinscar @acrazybayernfan @kuumaasikas

I'm a 100% sure that i forget someone and i'm terrible terrible sorry! Feel hugged! You're very important to me!

[madame-fear]

Mira, I just saw your HOTD Drama tag, I hope you're doing well and so are your anons, I'm very sad that this is happening in a fandom that was supposed to be fun, just like the GOT fandom that I'm part of.

Now I understand your pause until June or even later to write more, I hope that everyone who was affected can filter out these bad things and only have good things in life, after all, hate and toxicity will always exist, what we can do is avoid and live calmly and happily without harming anyone, a clear conscience is a blessing.

We who just want to read what we like, interact with cool people and exchange ideas have to come together and let everything bad erode on its own, because in the end, bad things fall apart on their own.

Lots of Love 💗💗💗

Lovely Vi, thank you for all the kind wishes and for the positivity! ✨ I agree in absolutely everything you said. Hopefully the constant drama in the fandom is reduced now that all of this was exposed— but the only thing that makes me sad is all the mutual from these people that they saw how awful they behaved, and even how they spoke badly about some mutuals.

After this, I have to admit that my break from writing for HOTD might take a little bit longer, but we’ll see how things go, and if I feel inspired again— I had to leave for a while because the fandom was incredibly toxic and overwhelming, but I hope it gets curated now 😞 Everyone should take a small break to process their own thoughts and how they feel about what happened, if needed, in my opinion!

We are supposed to have a fun time in here— thirst after our favourite war criminals, picture ourselves riding dragons, get immersed in the spicy fictional drama, and make loving mutuals who you can share your ideas with. I hope the fandom can go back to how it was in the beginning: fun, and positive, where we all supported one another.

You couldn’t have said it better: bad things fall apart on their own— and I wholeheartedly live by that statement now. You are terribly right and I agree,, hope everything gets cleared out for the better future of the community 💗

[mairen-marionette]

✨🌼🌺❤️ for the oc asks?

Neo thank you so much for the ask I appreciate it so much! I like talking about my ideas honestly, I need to do it more.

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Okay so for Mirena, she is a character I have had some variations of for years now in my head for my own original work, (very long story that needs its own post or two), but the name itself is one I came up with some time ago and turned out to actually be a name in Latin, and I've kept it for this iteration of the character. Her nickname is Mira.

As for Miah, that is actually a nickname I came up with and figured out an actual name not long after. His full first name is Jeremiah, btw.

Miah and Mira, the Nälkän and the low-level reality bender both unwillingly employed by the Foundation and essentially playing one of the most stressful irl games of Among Us possible. And then more of their colleagues figure it out-

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Still working it out along with the timeline. Both are about early to mid-twenties, a bit young for researchers but then again so are other colleagues at this point. A lot of odd and desperate circumstances and very hard work have gone into getting to where they are today, as well as a lot of luck.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Neo I am so glad you asked! This is actually one thing I have developed a lot, I just need to write it out more.

Mirena has a girlfriend, Shannon, a shining Mobile Task Force newbie who ends up turning traitor to join the Chaos Insurgency- and despite everything, the love is still there. Shannon wants Mira to join her, Mira both cannot leave and absolutely will not join the Chaos Insurgency. Shannon is forced to flee, and Mira's left to deal with the aftermath. How fun.

And then they just keep encountering each other after that, and it is a whole thing that I have a lot of fun with and need to actually write out.

As for Miah, things are messier and to start with, here is the very abridged version of the man we call Miah's wretched traitor ex: Miah's a research assistant to a doctor and while working under this very shady man he ends up meeting a very nice site security guard who also happens to be relatively new to the whole working for the Foundation thing and they hit it off!

It's sweet, things are lovely, Miah trusts this guy and loves him so very much and tells him oh so many things- and then shit finally hits the fan all at once and in the chaos, boyfriend's true allegiances are revealed as he is in actuality a mole and Miah is unfortunately in the way and loose ends must be tied up, with overkill since he knows Miah is a fleshcrafter and those types are infamously hard to kill. Needless to say, Miah survived, with begrudging thanks to his now late boss who was all too happy to at last put his illicit research into action before he 'terminated his employment' on his own terms.

Needless to say, Miah is still very, very mad at his ex for that stunt and while he is fine with never seeing the wretch again, he would be all too happy to finally confront him and

It's not the only romantic relationship I have in mind for him, mind you, but it is a fairly major one that has had its impact.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Okay, that is hard to say but I have thought about this before, actually. At least for Miah.

For Miah, one of the memories he holds closest is from not long after he came of age, when he was more formally initiated into the faith he had converted to all those years ago. It is one of the proudest moments of his life, and he remembers it well- the makeshift ceremony in the forest on the night of one of the High Holy Days, the pride in his teacher's eyes and voice, and the pride swelling in his own chest, the happiness.

As for Mira, it takes the form of when she finally realized that she was in fact very much love with the bright, wild, lively woman sprawled next to her on the grass, staring wide-eyed at Shannon as she laughed and laughed. And then Shannon finally looks at her, grinning that signature wild grin of hers, and the researcher feels as if she is drowning, as she's had so many times.

Anyhow, thank you for the ask Neo, sorry it took so long for me to finish answering it! Hope you like it, friend. Sorry if it's too long.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi! I'm new to your blog and I was wondering what request you have right now so I can see what kind of requests you take?

I literally had to sit down to do math... 😂

So, as of right now we have:

Six requests for Lorcan

Three for Gavriel and Manon

Two for Fenrys and Liam Mairi and Carmy

And one for Asterin, Az, Xaden, Mira

As for requests, I'm open for most things I just don't write smut as demand. I merge some requests if they are similar. If there's something I don't write, I usually post it and say, sorry, I don't write for something like that. If I see other creators posting the same requests before I get to them, or see the same requests circling around, I usually delete those too, just to respect others work. If I get something disturbing or personally triggering to me, I usually delete those requests. As of now the requests are for blurbs, I don't write full on big stories. Although, one blurb idea did turn to Pretty like the wind.

So, I would say go wild. Just let me know what's on your mind and I'll try to write it out. I always say that I prefer if people just dump everything that they have in mind, there's more stuff to bounce off of for me. But for the most part world is your oyster. ✨🤍

[carnal-lnstinct]

for the writers ask: 💖 ✨🫘 🦷 ?

💖 What is your primary writing goal for this year?

Finish DWD and Delicate.

✨What's one area of your writing that you think needs the least amount of improvement?

I like to ramble set up a story as if I can come back to it for more, so I guess the length of a fic? xD

🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year?

More holiday events! If I space them out right. Bringing back Scourge of the Stars and Smutember, and I will be doing Kinkmas and something special for Spring season that's a little similar to VDay Event ♥ It's early in the year so if any other events come up, I may try them out if I like them. Also, I was inspired by actually chatting with some friends before about what I write it made me want to open up more about my writing process and things I wanna do with fanfics. But I couldn't really find any group chats I trusted at a glance or find anything for dbz fic writers (specifically spicy content 👀 but not entirely the premise). I really wanted to take the loneliness out of the writing process and create a space for other dbz writers to have the same. Somewhere to come together and chat, be weird together, bounce ideas, simp and gush over dbz f/o's, share their updates, writing events and fics to help boost traffic to their stories and generally support each other! But I am old and know nothing of discord anymore! so it's a "project" but very much still an idea. It was something I enjoyed in my RP groups that I really miss a lot and hope to find in others who share my love for reading and writing dbz fics ♥

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

So a looong time ago, I started working on a FINAL final chapter for Conton City Lockdown to play around with the soulmates/destiny trope and it got pushed deep, deep down in the WIP barrel. I said I would come back to and finish. But it got lengthy with JUST dialogue and now I kinda don't wanna fill in the blanks uwu so idk what to do with it but I don't wanna give it up either. Here is a Snippet w/ some context. The CCH essentially doesn't believe in destiny (despite literally being the one to save all of history), but she starts to ♥

TP: "Could you see yourself doing anything else with your life now? The Time patrol does kind of take over."

Goku: "I guess not anymore. Not knowing what I know now, anyways." "It makes me think a lot about the first time I saw you."

TP: "Stopping Mira? That was a pretty big win for the Time Patrol with your help."

Goku: "It was." "But that wasn't the first time I saw you."

TP: "..What?"

Goku: "Don't you remember? You fell out of the sky." "It was a miracle you came when you did. Ol' Raditz was really giving me and Piccolo a hard time, he really had us thinking on our toes and nothing we hit him with seemed to work. It looked like we were really done for. But then you suddenly appeared." "You saved me." "But I guess we undid that when Piccolo shot me."

TP, surprised: "..My special mission.." "My first time patrol for Supreme Kai of Time was to save you?"

Goku: "Really? That's pretty awesome!" "The first time Supreme Kai of Time came to me for help, she was sending me to help you with Mira. Isn't that something?"

TP: "Holy shit.."

Goku: “Yeah, I didn’t really remember too much about you until I saw you again. All I had was this vague memory of a strong warrior who helped me and Piccolo. I could remember your strength but nothing else. I wanted to see them again.” “Then I finally found you, fighting again, way stronger than you were back then. It all came clear. Knowing that we both had become stronger since then made me excited!”

WRITER GOAL ASK LIST FOR A NEW YEAR 🎉

[swagreecrow]

Medusa

Stefany :*mirá la medusa en el acuario*Oh mira Leo es una medusa es tan hermosa 😃🥰🪼💓💞💗✨

@inspiredwriter @kawaiibunga @hedgehog-dreamer @luna-tmnt @dai-su-kiss @levana-art @razzy-zaz @raphy-the-turtle @raphaelsrightarm @donatello-writes @donnies-fake-eyebrows @rainbow-squirrels-7 @raisans-art @akarihamato04 @wolfroks @another-tmnt-writer @angel-of-the-redacted @android-cap-007 @androgynousenemydetective @lordfreg @psiquic-a-blog @imaginashon @imababblekat @imthegreenfairy86 @angelicdavinci @all-things-tmnt @red-knight-raphael @kathaynesart @rexim-djm @reptile-eye @red-knight-raphael @reddenedsais-inactive @lazyafgurl @theroachsalad-blog @thelostandforgottenangel @mikey-angelo-hamato @mikeyshulagirl @miss-andromeda @mishacakes @mishajeans @venisdemilo @baraturts @foulbonkcolorempath-blog @dragonfairy19 @tmnt-life-of-a-terrapin @tmntvenisxleo @nomonoma @notjustdragonspages @lyzuka @coffeestation @donnies-the-encyclopedia @rl800