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withonly-sweetheart · 25 days ago

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Starry Eyed Singer

You're a scientist, not a singer, but when the newest experiment takes a liking to not only you, but your voice, you might just be the key to finding the rest of them. And although he's stuck behind the confines that keep him away from you, that hide the songs that he knows could have you throwing yourself into the water for him, he won't hurt you. After all, how could he? When you're his starry eyed singer.

a/n: first lets ignore the fact there's only dialogue at the last bit im so tired of this literally its been two whole ass weeks I NEVER GO PAST A DEADLINE IM GONNA TWEAK buuuut i really really like this idea i just think that for a theme, this is short and sweet enough for me! i would definitely want to expand on this as a whole, and i couldn't resist adding a dead dove ending <3 (im a creepy mf ik)

find the bad ending here...

alright now its time for credits

@bunnivievve - this is literally her au. like seriously i took everything from her analysis sheet like i would not be here without you. i salute you fine woman you are the reason i wake up and write siren leon. + thank you sm for ur hc i hope it's fitting to what you were thinking!!! THISSSSS LITERALLY THIS IS WHAT INSPIRED ME SMMM <333

@larvamars - help im sorry for mentioning you but i kinda took the art of leon looming over the scientist in that one piece of urs to heart... yeah... thinkin abt that while writing this really helped <3 so tysm just crediting people where credit is due!!

@sirenhub <- ngl i thought of you while writing this the WHOLE time i was tryna be freaky... get it bc ur name is siren... also the dead dove ending is dedicated to you my love... please drown me to the bottom of the ocean.. <333

@vampiricgf <- KITAA WE'RE TWINNING SO HARD ON THIS ONE... ur au is better than mine i fear but its ok this is a connection i couldn't pass up

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: descriptions of loss and grief, reader's mother is dead, luis angst, tiny mention of smut but nun too bad, brother i can't write anything without making it sound like shakespeare and not in a good way...

wc: 7.3k

The pearl of the ocean. He’s watched every wretched person who’s confined him here, with their white coverings and spectacles resting on their too sharp noses, their awkward gait and their irregular size. And not one was interesting enough to keep him intrigued for more than a day.

And then you appeared in his life, a presence uninvited, a treasure undeserving of his touch, not that he would be able to get his fingers on you either way. Your eyes were so lively, restless, sparkling like stars through the clear material that separates you.

If only you could hear him. He was sure just a moment of his voice would be enough to ensure your enrapture, enough to ensnare you like they had caught him off the coast. His colony had warned him enough times of all the dangers the shore brought, yet something brought him back.

You are alike in that sense, hunger consuming you from the inside out, fatal if not for the restraints that were easier for him to hold than you. He can feel your eyes on him as he languidly floats through the somewhat roomy tank they house him in, temporary, of course, but for three months he’s been stuck behind this insufferable, invisible surface that sets the barrier between you both.

A creature of the sea and a creature of the land. He entertains quiet thoughts of you at night, when his dreams should be fitful, longing to be free in the ocean, yet the yearning for you is stronger. He assumes it is mutual, why else would you act the way you do? Enamored, entranced, elated enough to send shoals of fish skittering through his stomach.

But he mistakes fascination for infatuation.

<><><><>

You cast Luis a sideways glance, a strange haze between you, air infecting what used to come so naturally, seeping into your skin, sealing your lips shut as if your banter was planned and you’re finally speechless.

His fingers flick the lighter lid open, then back, setting a rhythm that should be comfortable enough to make up for your unnatural silence, but it only serves to make things worse. You resist the urge to bristle when he finally speaks.

“You really don’t know why you’re here,” he murmurs, and you would’ve missed it, hidden under the whirring gears vibrating in the ground if not for the fact you’ve been expecting it.

You scoff. “What do you think?”

“I think that you must’ve done something.” He sighs and leans forward, tense in every aspect except for his mouth, brown butter molding to the cherry of his lips that purse, abandoning the man you knew. “Why leave both of us in here? Alone?”

His tone is suggestive, and you might’ve dismissed it as playful under other circumstances, but you know exactly what he’s doing—making a fool out of you.

“Tell me,” you insist. Luis leans back, the lamp in the hallway shining through the window, bronzing the copper planes of his face. He links his hands together and rests them palm upward on his forehead, closing his eyes.

After a few moments of silence, he cracks one of them open, narrowed as soon as he realizes you’re still watching, still waiting for an answer he’s far too reluctant to hand over.

“Impatient, are you?”

“You’re the one who fucked everything up! If you had just listened when I said the radar was, what, three feet off, we could’ve caught it just fine! But no, guess who has to play the hero?” you seethe. You feel your heartbeat thrum under where your fingers lie on your wrist, pulsing like a warning. Back off.

“Are you a senior scientist?” He quirks an eyebrow, challenging you to a fight you’ll surely lose, but when have you ever backed down to him? “I didn’t think as much.”

That pet name irks you enough to spark a retort, one you didn’t even think about before it’s past your lips and hanging in the air between you.

“I’ll rip that badge off your shirt before they get here if you don’t tell me why the fuck we’ve both been stuck in here for three hours!” Your voice is level to an extent, level like you’ve never thought to be calm.

His arms fall down to his knees, elbowing the meat of his thighs, eyes drawn back to you. “Are you always this irritable?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, curving them upward. “Or am I just lucky to be sitting next to a beautiful woman with the temper to match?”

You scowl, unable to summon the grin that you wish would appear in your mind. Seeing that you aren’t as amused at him at his little joke, the smile slips right off his face, and that sullen expression usurps his features.

“They found it,” he admits, albeit quietly, as if he’s afraid someone will hear. “Right after we left.”

“They… did?”

“Mhm,” he confirms, voice low and throaty. His lips part and you lean forward slightly, eager to hear his elaboration. “A new project is underway. Experiment 003. And you’ll be-”

The door swings open, and the white light that bathes you isn’t a good sign.

<><><><>

You don’t understand the solemn look on Luis’ face. Shouldn’t he be happy for you? You actually got the assignment you had requested, for once, and with what was once thought to be a creature only found in stories. And yet he stands leaning in the doorway to the lab room, gazing at the water.

It’s been two weeks, and not once have you actually seen this supposed creature. You’re starting to think this is all some elaborate joke Luis has crafted to keep your enthusiasm fresh, but he knows that your praise and effort aren’t akin to fruit and vegetables.

“No progress?” he offers weakly, not once making eye contact with you.

“Why don’t you try?” you reply bitterly. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve gotten any quality sleep, and the laboratory’s coffee runs alongside your blood in your veins, which bubbles back up in the raw coffee beans that swirl on your tongue as you await his response.

“Ouch.” Luis pretends to wince, seemingly hurt. “You might hurt my feelings, chiquita.”

“Good.”

“You can insult me all you want,” he says, damn that clever tongue of his, “but you’re pretty cute when you're mad. Makes it hard for me to take you seriously, mi amor.”

“Why are you like this?” you grit out, sweeping the papers off your desk to slam your clipboard down, crisp paper untouched. Can’t take notes on something you’ve never seen.

“Like what?” he asks, tilting his head. “Ever charming?”

“I was thinking something like bipolar,” you groust. “You’re never just one person, are you? What else are you hiding from me?”

He puts his hands up in defense as you stalk towards him, but he waits until you’re a step away to respond. “Hiding? Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muses.

You tilt your head up just as he tilts his head down, and you lock eyes with him, the searing honey dripping from his eyes to yours, cooling quickly enough to create threads of sweet ice connecting you both.

How it feels to long for something you’ll never have.

Your eyes flit to the band on his ring finger.

<><><><>

The cool glass finds your fingertips, aching from restless typing emails back and forth, persisting that you can handle this one. Your encounter with Luis has left you determined to prove you can do it without him, that you’re perfectly capable of ignoring him in the hallways, in the lunchroom, pretending not to hear him call your name across the lab.

But the blue glow dapples your face as you stare into the mirror on your desk, angled towards the picture of you and Luis, acceptance letters crumpled in your hands with your arms over each other’s shoulders, eyes glazed.

One too many drinks that night led to peppering his face with kisses, sliding those glasses off his face, admiring how pretty he looked all tipsy and breathless underneath you, watching all those cocky retorts disappear under your fingers.

It’s hard to get over someone you’ll never stop seeing, and you’ve got a better chance of being fired than retiring early. Besides, if you love your job, you’ll suffer through anything to keep it, right? Even if that means forcing smiles at his open face.

With no one to console you, a locked door and curtains dressing the windows, you let the tears flow freely, wishing that the water only a few inches away would somehow absorb the tears, make you seem stronger than you really are. Somber music tinkles away to an end in the background, leaving you in obsolete silence that seems to swallow you whole.

A tap on the glass. Suspended motionless just beyond the barrier, electric blue undertones of his skin mesmerizing, highlighting elegant fins and swirling markings. Deep azure pools that lock onto yours, hair framing his face like a snapshot in time.

"Holy shit, shit, shit!" you blurt out loud before you can help it. Your pulse races to life, drinking in every feature you can, drawing an image that will never be up to scale; whoever can put his flowing, inky locks to delicate fins that frame his lithe, powerful frame into words should be standing in your place, because you sure can’t.

You swivel around, hyping yourself up even more at the fact that you’re the first scientist in the building to see him with your own eyes, fingers curled around your clipboard as you shuffle back.

But you’ve dotted your name and scribbled down the date only to jerk your eyes back to the empty space, as if he was never there. Only one piece of evidence remains, and even that flutters down to the depths you cannot see.

An iridescent scale.

<><><><>

Your voice is croaky from even more lack of sleep, hours of waiting by the glass in vain; the frog in your throat leaps out to greet Luis when he saunters over, leaning on his elbow that rests on the table, eyes darting from side to side to confirm what he already knows from ten minutes of absconded silence - you’re alone in the breakroom.

“Well?” he urges, eyes slicing down to check his watch. “Make it quick, mi amor. I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.”

My love. How ironic that he still calls you that, it must slip from his mind on days like this. “Isn’t today your rest day-”

“Well?” he repeats, more urgently this time. And under his persistence, you’re less sure of your theory than before.

Your teeth pierce the chapped skin of your bottom lip, cracking it open, savoring the iron tang of blood that flows freely, even though you know it’ll come back to bite you in the ass later. The sting calms you.

“Experiment 003,” you begin, digging your fingernails into your palm for a split second before forcing your wavering hand to push the files towards him. “The mermaid-”

“Merman,” he corrects quickly, before his eyes go slightly wider than before and raises his hands in defense, again, as if his open palms will stop the silent words of hurt that batter his skin from your eyes.

“Merman,” you repeat, continuing, “isn’t really a merman.”

“What?” Luis’ eyebrows fly up and he claws at the folder, flipping through the papers before staring back up at you in disbelief. “You have no evidence to support this!”

“But I saw him,” you insist, admitting what you had told yourself you weren’t going to reveal to him. How is it that his face still gets your tongue tied in your mouth, coaxing secrets without him even knowing? “And… it displays none of the traits found in the fisherman’s tales.”

“They’re all old men,” he says dismissively, and his nonchalance, once again, only serves to irk you and fuel your need to prove him wrong. “So what if they couldn’t see right?”

“But—”

“No buts,” he says with a tone of finality, and it doesn’t occur to you to speak back this time. The point’s been lost in your first plea, and the honey bees descend from his tongue to spike you everywhere, scorn you for trying to doubt him. “Just get back to work, and don’t bother me anymore, señorita. I have work to do.”

You’ve never been dismissed by him before, so when he sinks into his hands, rubbing circles into your eyes, you don’t move a muscle, wondering if there will be any further instruction.

But he lifts his chin, so slowly that his gaze sears everywhere that it touches until that flame gets put out by the bucket of boiling water bubbling to life in his eyes. That dull demeanor lying over irritation lies bare on his face, soaking through like wet newspaper, ink unintelligible but meaning clear.

Get out.

<><><><>

It’s hard to find something more consistent than the steady lapping of water, kissing the top of the glass where it connects with your ceiling. You stare into the abyss, willing the creature to appear from its depths, but where the flowing water meets your demands, the being does not.

Your thoughts begin to wander. How exactly had you called it— no, him?

“The subject is male,” you hear Luis’ voice ring in your ear, as if a ghost of a person still standing with you, a shadow of what you hoped could be true. That day, there was no sound in the room except for the steady current of your tears washing your cheeks for the umpteenth time that week.

It’s probably not that. After all, it would take a creature with keen ears and a sharper mind to hear not only through the glass, but to recognize the pain that even the person who causes it cannot identify. But you’re desperate.

So you conjure up the strongest memory you have, one that surpasses all levels of guilt and anger and pain to the highest level of sorrow you’ve ever felt. The night your mother died.

Your eyes stay glued to the simple white cloth adorning her body, cupping her gently like the beings from above have descended to hold her in their heavenly hands, the idea that if you keep your gaze away from her, she’ll long for it once more and return to you.

But as much as you know she loves you, she remains still. And when you drag your reluctant eyes to grace her pale, limp hands, rubbing some warmth into her spindly fingers, fingers that fed you and dressed you. Arms that hugged you when you finished elementary school, kept your grades up with a raise that was never a promise, only an empty threat.

And the eyes that sparkled like yours, now dead. How similar you look to her, even now, hollow cheeks and irises that lose their cheer, wilting flowers like your dress that billows in the wind as you stand with your feet in the sea, grounding yourself against the waves that threaten to pull you away.

Why couldn’t you stay? Why did she abandon you in a cruel, motherless world that you know is common yet feels like a situation that will only ever apply to your pitiful self? Why does nothing last, if only for a fleeting moment in which you light her pyre and watch the flames engulf her until she’s nothing but a pile of ashes.

Before the wind can steal her away with its greedy fingers, you sweep her into a vase.

And that vase will stay in the second wooden shelf, the sturdiest one right above your desk, two inches away from the ledge, pressed against the chipped paint of your wall. You will never let her go. She will always be with you; in one way or another.

You’ll make sure of that.

Guilt isn’t the right word. There is no word to describe the torrents of how disgusted you are at yourself, and if there is, there shouldn’t be. You’ve confined your mother to these lands instead of accepting the peace she deserves.

And suddenly, observing the creature doesn’t seem as important as before. There are more pressing issues at hand, issues that might have something to do with your current lack of luck, as of late.

What you miss as you scamper around the room is the eyes that watch you from the darkness, sharp enough to crackle fire that would burn this whole place to the ground if he wished, but he waits.

In silence as you hastily grab your bag from the coat rack, abandoning your jacket. He knows you’ll be back from this one action and relaxes his tense body.

As long as you come back.

<><><><>

Aquamarine darkness envelops the far side of the room, if the building you’re in even resembles a room. It must end somewhere, especially since the peacock lights flash back in a rhythmic pattern, always circling back to where you’re planted.

Rooted to the peaty soil that squelches around your rain boots that were required before stepping into… wherever your current location was. Of course, the admin team is never happy with what they have, and apparently one subject to prod and poke wasn’t enough.

So you’re sent in here, to gain more information, the rookie’s always the guinea pig for anything, right? To find the rest of them, if there are any. You’re doubting this idea as a whole theory itself, because what if he’s one of a kind? Special.

But that something gets closer and closer to you. Your eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, adapting to the shapes that spark your vivid imagination, the murky water swirling everywhere the inky mass touches.

Eight feet and four inches is intimidating enough to scan behind the safety of your reinforced glass walls, bulletproof and all, and you’re not reassured by the idea that although you shouldn’t be scared, you are.

Only once have you seen him through the water, and that was enough to spark your interest. The flame of curiosity burns falsely in your stomach, washed out by the waves of fear. You feel like nothing but a small fish at his intense gaze, a gaze that frightens you, and it must show on your expression.

Within a matter of seconds he backs away, perhaps sensing your discomfort, and you realize that your initial hypothesis must’ve been correct; he can feel others' emotions. You wonder how this works for a creature that cannot communicate, at least not with you.

Something flashes through his eyes, storm clouds and thunder alike, and a low hiss pushes its way through his canine teeth, an attribute you hadn’t noticed until the sound hits your ears.

It is strange, the look on his face, with his hair moist and clinging to his neck as he bobs further away, weaving between the speckles of moss that float from your little island to him, gifts or warnings, you don’t know.

He takes them as warnings, it seems, with his tense, hostile expression that seems to appear from thin air, staring at you tersely, somewhat like a dolphin or a seal at the aquarium before dipping back into the water without a sound, silence filling the area where he was.

And although you’re perfectly aware that your fear has not yet subsided from crashing against your lungs, you admit to yourself that now that he’s gone, you miss the thrill.

Who would’ve thought you’d become so daring, hm?

<><><><>

But wait, it gets worse. You had assumed this was a one time thing, a test run with a temporary guinea pig that happened to be the rookie of the lab, and although you weren’t too happy with the arrangement, you were perfectly content with the idea of admiring him from a distance, especially after such a close encounter.

Yet no one gives you a heads up or a warning before you’re shoved into the same room again, fear licking at your spine as those flashing lights proceed further through the water. And after a while, the initial horror bypasses your system and you grow used to the thick silence hanging in the air, mingling with the musty scent of swamp water.

You don’t know what they’ve fed him this week. Maybe they forgot to clean his tank. Whoever’s in charge of his wellbeing obviously fucked up the one time you take a break to visit friends touring the city, because when you return, rested and fresh, ready to succeed, something’s wrong

You’ve never noticed it before, but there are scales scattered on his neck, a light blue color, tile shaped as if a button longing to be pressed. Those are the northern lights transferred from the sky to the sea, plastered onto him, hanging loosely so his gills can pulse. Open, shut, as you inhale sharply and exhale swiftly.

They light up in assortments of azure, carribean shades of the murky water, yet so much more vibrant. And as if the thrill wasn’t enough to make its fingers around your neck and restrict your breath, holding your silence as if the air would scare him away, he starts to sing.

Vertigo overwhelms your senses the moment his euphonic voice escapes from those lips, marinated on his tongue, deep and resonant. A dizzying feeling that causes you to stumble to your knees, red dots sparkling all along your vision.

And through the haze, you swear you can see him smirk, the corner of his lip twisting upward, as if this was the intended effect, like you’re supposed to feel as if you’re about to throw up and dance and cry and jump for joy, all at once.

Guess what else you were right about?

He’s no merman.

You forget the word, the term to describe the hooks cast into the sea to lure unsuspecting victims, hooks that are merely sweet, velvety tones that are all hollow truths, a desire to be craved and a hunger that can never be satiated.

A warning to be reckoned, to be heard, to be feared.

A siren.

<><><><>

“What the actual fuck?” You restrain your voice to keep yourself from screeching, which you know you would do if you were alone, which you never truly are with the walls that hear everything, along with throwing yourself at him and wrestling him to the floor.

“You said it yourself, he’s a siren! And you could’ve just died!” Luis’ hands are twisted his hair, madly clutching at their roots, and his concern for you is so profoundly surprising it sparks a laugh from you.

“I was fine, thanks,” you snap back, drumming your fingers on the table as you stare directly at his face, a face that seems crazy to love now. So many times you wonder what could’ve been, and now you’re wasting time sitting here with this fool.

“You. Could’ve. Died.” Luis accentuates each word with the ending sound as a growl, as if his voice will instill some sense of security in you, but you find yourself getting burning as he continues, “How could you even think about doing something so stupid?”

“Me?” Your voice has found a perch high in your vocal range, and it won’t come down. “Whose idea was this in the first place?” You scan his face for any hint of remorse, but there is none, and nothing in his expression offers an answer.

“Mi amor-”

“Stop fucking calling me that! You don’t get to say that like- like we still have something! Do you even know what love is?” Luis’ eyes go stony, a boulder pushed up the wrong side of the hill, and you’re not strong enough to keep it up.

And it all comes crashing down.

“Love?” A dry chuckle erupts from his mouth, expression conforming to both disbelief and pity, both uncalled for and unwanted. “Excuse me? Of course I know what love is, but it’s a little hard to love someone that’s constantly putting themselves in danger!”

His accent is sinking further and further into his words with his newfound irritation, irritation aimed at you for no apparent reason. Maybe something’s going on at home, but does that give him the authority to take it out on you? Hell no.

You stand, far too loudly, and everyone watches you get ready to make your exit without another word, because what are you meant to say to something like that? Are you so unrecognizable, within less than half a year? How easy is it to leave your old self behind?

The one that clung to him. Is that his problem?

You brush past his chair on the way out, and out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you watch him twist the band on his finger, flicking his fingers back and forth, an absent habit he’s had since your sorority years.

But before you can pass him completely, he glances behind him and rolls his chair back, maneuvering it to avoid your feet. You’re about to tell him to fuck off when he draws his eyes back up, lingering on your lips, and you know what he’s thinking.

“Wait,” he says quietly, voice soft and barely audible, but he’s stopped rolling his chair back to tilt his head up towards you.

“What?” you snap, at first unknowingly but strangely reveling in the way he flinches at your harshness, flitting back to the day he had dismissed your concerns so flagrantly. You justify your actions by determining that he deserves it. His eyes darken again as a frown puckers his lips and the space between his eyebrows.

“Don’t… just… don’t leave, please…” he stutters, his usual confidence nowhere to be found, struggling with the words before speaking again. “Can we… talk?”

“No, because there’s nothing to talk about. Besides, I have work to do.”

He lets out a small sigh at your response, to the reference of that event, irritation fluctuating in his tone. “Work? You’ve been working for four months, and you’ve found absolutely nothing.” And so the truth slips out, whether branching from his will or against it. This is how he really feels, huh?

"You don't get to tell me that." you mutter. "I'm the one documenting him, not you. You sit in your little room behind the glass, perfectly safe, and not once have you thought about swapping our roles. You don't love me, and I honestly have no idea why you even bother to lie to me about it."

Luis grits his teeth, his irritation and anger clear in his eyes, those eyes that were once pools of admiration sinking into the depths of everything you thought was between you. "What are you talking about? That's not true, I... of course I love you!" Then he rises from his chair, taking a step towards you, as if you’d allowed that.

You step back, pressing against the door. Your fingers creep behind your back to the handle and his eyes flicker to them, to the hand that’s grasping it so tightly it goes whiter than his face as he retreats to the table, pale with horror.

“I wouldn’t… ever hurt you,” he murmurs.

“Then why did you marry her?” you ask, voice soft. It’s a question you’ve been tossing in your mind, a simple game of catch that started grabbing rules from all sorts of games, pickleball and why he chose her, badminton and how you could’ve done better, volleyball in the victory in which his wife revels, and in which you wallow, losing yet another thing you loved.

“Because you said it was temporary!” he grumbles, sliding his teeth over his bottom lip, refusing to make the very same eye contact he was practically begging for an hour ago, in this very meeting room where you would stare at your department head as she provided strict instructions, catching Luis’ fleeting glances at your side profile.

“Isn’t that all we ever were?” you whisper. “Temporary?”

The air shatters between you. Finally, the unspoken truth that you both have carried for so long in your hearts is out, and it feels like a burden has been lifted off your shoulders. You can see it in his expression, however horrified, there’s some form of acceptance. He’s known this for as long as you have.

“What… happened to you? To us?” he asks quietly, looking at you like you’re a stranger, fractured parts of you discarded behind you like a broken mirror, one and the same but reflecting another person.

The door clicks open, squeaking as it swings to show you away, to the exit, finally leaving behind what you thought you could never let go of. But you pause before you leave, entertaining his question. When you have your answer, you don’t hesitate to deliver it.

“Sometimes you lose people. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

<><><><>

As the rerun comes through, cracked on the cheap speaker, fading quickly, you waltz around your room, feeling serene enough in the moment, losing yourself to the melody. How many hours have you wasted soaring through the skies in your office, only to plummet back down like a shot bird when you acknowledge the stack of papers spawning on your desk?

But when the hard day’s stresses melt away to the sway of your hips and your however offkey voice, no one is there to judge you. Luis isn’t chastising you about anything, and it’s good enough for you.

When the chorus swells, you open your mouth and belt out the lyrics, hoping the grainy walls can contain your voice, but the volume seems obnoxious, even for you. That’s when you notice the shadow on the floor towering over you, and you spin around.

Your eyes are glued to his mouth, to the words that are achingly pure and smooth, somehow heard through the glass. Illuminated by the tank lights, ethereal tones blending perfectly with the recording, enhancing it in a way you’d never heard.

Raw emotion, the longing in his voice, however foreign to you, the curve of his accent, words you’ve never heard. All so new to you, chills racing down your spine, tickling at your back.

And when the song crests, his unearthly high notes soar with a beauty strong enough to bring tears, tears that you have to hold back in case someone were to walk in. When he seals his mouth with a smile—a private, intimate thing that feels like it belongs to you, you’re sufficiently spellbound, the world ceasing to exist.

His eyes flash in the water, flitting behind you, to the rattling of your door, and only after you’ve twisted over your shoulder to verify there’s no one there does he choose to make his exit. You see the corner of his tail flick, you hope in temporary goodbye, before you close your eyes and replay his voice in your head.

Over, and over, and over again, until all you can think about is him. How wonderful would it be if he was real, hm? You see him as an illusion now, you suppose, because how do you ever know something is truly real before you can feel it under your fingertips?

And when the voice is gone, fading from your mind into the echoes of your room, vibrations clamoring to bury the sweet sound that you long for now that it’s not with you anymore, you realize there is something you’ve been doing wrong.

Something that you must fix right away. Someone you’ve kept for far too long, yet another person you’ve lost and tried to bring back.

Your mother.

<><><><>

The ocean is trying to draw you in again, rhythmic waves pooling at your feet, urging you to come sleep in its embrace, take an everlasting nap to the lullaby of the water. But you’re not so easily fooled. You remember all you’ve lost, all you’ve regained, and how you’ve been forced to let everything go.

Not for your gain, but for theirs. You suppose scientific curiosity was not what you were chasing this entire time. Your resignation letters were turned in promptly, along with an anonymous report to the people you knew you could trust to shut down what is undoubtedly an illegal operation.

Will Luis be caught in the crossfire? You’re sure of it, and although you’ll never stop caring for the man you first loved, only shreds of compassion remind, and even those shreds are not enough to bail him out.

You are far more concerned for the experiment, hope that he survives. If there’s anything you’ve learned during your time at the laboratory, it’s that no matter what branch of government, no one is merciful to anything different.

So you call upon all the gods watching, if there are any, and pray to them for forgiveness. Plead to them for mercy, and spin the lid off the vase that you’ve seen so many times, staring at it absentmindedly while studying, unable to understand a concept without your mother to explain it.

But like with all things and people, you’ve learned to live without her. And you’ve kept her spirit with you for far too long, haunting you in dreams, dreams she shouts your name in, screaming for peace.

You break those shackles with a gentle toss, keeping the vase cradled in your arms as the ashes pour out into the water. Taking a step back to avoid any sticking with you, you dig your feet back into the dry sand, watching the dark particles disappear into the clear water.

She is free. Your mother is finally free.

A high pitched call returns your initial sob, and you swipe at your face, bleary eyed and trying to get a good look at what it could’ve been. The assumption it could be a dolphin has you reaching behind you for your bag, shuffling through its contents, pictures of you and your mother. You will not abandon those, for memories are precious, you know this well.

But when you bring your eyes back to the sea, you see a humanoid figure in the distance, raising their hand in greeting to you. Tawny hair that reflects the descending sun, a simple white shirt, gloriously unbuttoned, and khaki beige shorts.

You do not recognize him, and so out of fear, you retreat further and further into your backyard, all thoughts of admiring the sunset gone, as the man approaches. You reach for your stuff as you stumble backwards, never taking your eyes off of him and this plays in your favor.

Everything about him is so different, so foreign to you, and when he speaks, his voice is raspy, and you feel like a tourist all over again, in a city where you don’t belong. You don’t deserve this, to be standing here.

You lost him, right? But you could never mistake those eyes.

And now he’s human. There are no scales, no gills, no affront to his identity, one and the same as you, and yet he feels so different. You recognize his eyes, they haven’t changed from their cerulean blue, orbs crafted from the sea itself, forged by Poseidon’s hand, a statue in the hands of the gods, but so much is missing.

The raven feathers of his hair that would’ve looked stunning in the night, now out of place and far too vibrant against the mellow shades slowly darkening, becoming more somber.

Twinkling lights strung in the space where the muscle stretches as he twists behind him, as if checking the sea, now gone dim and dissolved into the pale, unsullied skin of his neck.

You suppose you should be happy his voice hasn’t changed. With just one word, he lulls you back to him, and you can’t remember thinking of the differences between the experiment you had so vigorously studied and the man standing in front of you, not to be studied, but to be loved.

“Hi.” He reaches up, ruffles the back of his head, as if that will rattle out all the words spinning around in his mind, mirroring your own turmoiled thoughts.

“Hi.” You mimic his actions, running sharp nails against the side of your scalp, failing to push stray strands away from your face. Through your hair, you peer at him, the sun long gone behind him, and parts of him are hidden again, like you’re hiding pieces of him from your conscious mind, fearing losing him again.

Most mystifying of all was how right it feels to have him standing right in front of you, finally equal, aside from the few inches that he has on you. Those depths of ocean blue lingering in his eyes grounds you, realizing how many times you’ve looked into those same eyes, wondering exactly what he’s thinking of.

Now you can know. And you’re not about to pass up the opportunity and let fear engulf you like you’ve let it usurp your mind so many times before.

"It's still you in there, isn't it?" you ask softly.

He smiles, and your heart skips at the familiar gesture, a smile you’ve unsurprisingly missed. "It is. I wanted to see you again."

"But how? How’d you… do this? And why come back?" You step closer, drinking in each subtle nuance of his new appearance. It’s appropriate for him, nothing too flashy, blending into the background. Aside from that halo of blond hair pressed to his forehead, slick with salt water.

“You freed me,” he says quietly, eyes searching your body, as if he’s trying to ingrain an image of you into his head. You did the same, not too long ago. But there was a need for it then, and no need for it now.

Reaching out tentatively, you trace the contour of his neck, half expecting to feel residual traces of his missing bioluminescence. Only warm skin meets your fingers, and a low sigh from his lips, and now that he’s here, under your touch, you know that he’s real. Not just for your sanity, but in reality, as well.

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say, just to clarify, because you assume the last thing you need is to owe a mythical sea creature. “We’ll call it even since you didn’t eat me.” He barks a soft laugh, a seal-like sound, before lacing your fingers with his onto his cheek, pressing your hand further into his skin.

"I changed so I could be with you without barriers. So we could truly understand one another." He gazes meaningfully into your eyes. "If you'll have me."

“I don’t even know your name,” you say, breathless, because haven’t you expected all of your loved ones to come back to you just like this, before inevitably accepting it’ll never happen? And now it is.

“My name?” That goddamn smirk, whether he is able to communicate or not, whether he’s human or not, tells you all you need to.

“Hm?”

“Leon.”

“Leon,” you test out, rolling the name on your tongue, causing him to scrunch up his nose.

“What? You do not like it?”

“No, no,” you say, with a chuckle. “It suits you.”

His expression relaxes, frown vanishing as he pulls you closer, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder as he takes your other hand. A familiar tune thrums through your ear, reaching your brain at supersonic speeds, cruising into your blood. The first song he ever sang for you, and now both the memory and his voice seem so far away compared to this moment.

A single moment. Suspended in time, lovers finally reunited, pair after pair failing like incorrect puzzle pieces until now, you’ve found the one.

And this time, you’re never letting go.

<><><><>

The stars arrange themselves in Leon’s eyes, constellations spelling out a story as you gaze down at him wholeheartedly, loving him with all your spirit and throwing caution to the wind.

His gaze flickers from time to time, like if he truly blinks, you’ll be gone with the night breeze, a stray leaf on the sand, misplaced.

“Did you like being a siren?” Leon’s eyes squeeze shut, head shifting on where it lies in your lap, hand creeping onto your knee.

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” he says timidly. “But you showed me more. I didn’t want to hurt people anymore after seeing you.”

“Me?” Your laugh is soft, melodious to his ears, and it soothes a little bit of the ache that has been forming since the day you arrived at the laboratory. “How’d you even find me?”

“Your mother,” he replies, voice soft. “I sensed her, and with her came you. And somehow, my father obliged in my wishes to… abandon my colony.”

“Abandon?” You quirk an eyebrow in concern.

“I can never return,” he says, but his tone is light and airy, unconvincingly so. “But I found that I would give the sea, my family, for you, even if it’s all I’ve ever known. There is nothing left for me there.”

“But you shouldn’t have,” you whisper back. “Give up all that, for me? You could’ve just visited once in a while… I wouldn’t have minded.”

“And yet I would find myself longing for your touch, even on the days that all seemed well, the ocean’s beauty is but a teardrop in comparison to yours.” Ever the charmer.

“You don’t… regret it?” Leon shakes his head.

“How could I? What part of my life would I regret if I gave something up to spending even a fraction of it with you? All those days, from the sun rising to the moon rising, and you were right there, even if you weren’t under my fingers.”

“You were beautiful,” you admit. “But…”

“And I suppose all along,” he continues, “I was truly just bait for my colony. It is better that I have left them, better to leave them safe where they are happy. Where I am now happy, with you, with your beautiful face and pretty voice.”

“Pretty voice?” You flush, hoping you can mask it as an abnormal overheating technique. He doesn’t seem to notice. “Really?”

“You always look so lovely when you sing,” he muses. “Sing a song for me, please?”

You don’t know what brings you to actually do it. Is it the warmth of his hair splayed out on your thighs, or his eager expression as his eyes drag upward, flitting to your lips. You hum a tune and instantly feel at ease, perhaps you should’ve pursued a life of music.

Music. It doesn’t sound as absurd as it did throughout high school and college, when you scorned the same people who have now grown famous for their voices. You saw them as lazy, when you should’ve seen them as talented.

You hold out a note, gazing towards the sea, wondering if your mother is watching you right at this moment. You wonder if she would be content with everything you’ve done in your life, if she’s forgiven you enough to let you have this peace. The peace you once denied her.

Leon’s approval comes in a hum of his own, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hand reaches upward, trailing your cheek before he tilts his head up and you lean forward and kiss him, and the seconds rush by far too quickly before he pulls away, lips already quite red, and the corner of his mouth ticks upward, exposing the pearl white of his grin.

“Just as perfect as the last time,” he murmurs, “my starry eyed singer.”

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datesinredink · 4 months ago

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could you possibly write headcanons you have of how the rise yanderes would like psychologically manipulate/punish their darling? i’m all for physical violence but what do they do to mess their darling up in the head?

ty very much for reading this if you do :)

THANK YOU SO MUCH RAGHHHHHH!!!!! Since this is such a fun question to answer im gonna order these from most to least awful. The ranking is just my opinion and i would LOVE to see what other people think jhwhnwiurfj i decided to chug a soda to write this and i think that was a great decision because i immediately came up with smth for donnie because of it.

I decided to search up some ACTUAL psychological torture methods that have been/are used in real life and let normal manipulation take more of a backseat so that this didn’t end up too repetitive- honestly would recommend researching it, it’s a fun topic.

Trigger warnings: Very unfun use of technology in your arm, Drugging, More drugging, Even more drugging, Withholding of food/water (+ a more mild example of doing so but it still happens), Mild descriptions of gore, Mentions of blood, general yandere stuff like kidnapping, and likely others- please ask me to tag anything else triggering, because unfortunately I am not perfect.

1- Donnie.

This might be surprising to some of you. Yes, Leo is the manipulator- he’s the face man, the people guy, but I think that in terms of sheer awfulness- Donnie is going to win here simply because of the potential with his tech.

He’s a genius with access to mystic powers who has incredible skill with both designing and creating various machines and gadgets. I think that he’d be very creative, just considering how much he thought to fit into just his bō staff.

My first thought was that he could come up with a small device (which might be able to double as a tracker) to embed under your skin that could move around. It would skitter up and down your arm like a beetle (likely your dominant arm, just to be worse) and be a nice cherry on top of anything else he could come up with.

To pair with that, he could force some type of hallucinogenic drug down your throat- after some googling, LSD would be a likely candidate. While apparently it usually only causes “pseudo-hallucinations” (where you know that they aren’t real, whereas true hallucinations would be where you think they are), true hallucinations can happen, and the pseudo-hallucinations combined with the environment alone would be enough to cause a panic attack. Not even to mention the kind of drugs that the mystic city might have. (edit: i just found out about datura??? GODDAMN THAT’S A STRONG DRUG.)

Also, I think that Donnie would actually take decent care of you prior to any sort of escape attempt or broken rule. He’d hate for you to waste away in a dark room for the rest of your now shared life, so he would take you outside to some private space for a set amount of time everyday while you’re chained to him and probably gagged so you don’t call for help- you need time in the sun and exercise, after all. That’s why I think he’d also stop doing that if you broke a rule. You don’t want to be anywhere near him, and he supposes that he’s fine with that- but if you really don’t want anything to do with Donnie anymore, then you’ll just have to deal with losing all the luxuries that came with him being so caring.

He’ll lower the temperature in your room and take the hoodie that he so graciously gave you and waltz on out. He still brings you food and water, but now it’s less frequent and more random since now he’s prioritizing his brilliant inventions. Sorry dear, but weren’t you the one who begged him to leave you alone? Now he is. What’s the problem?

2- Leo.

Even if you haven’t done anything wrong (yet), being kept in his room would probably be a nightmare. I feel in my adhd soul that he would NOT be good at keeping it clean. It’d be living in a constant mess, and as someone who has lived in a perpetually messy house, it will definitely take a toll on your mental health. Not to mention the additional noise from whatever he and his brothers are doing. You wouldn’t be allowed outside of it either, not for a while at least, so you’d never know what day or time it is.

Other than the already constant sensory of his room, I think that Leo would mainly use threats- of which he goes through with. Not against you, though, but against your family, (what’s left of) your friends, and any other loved ones you might have. He’ll drag their unconscious body into whatever room he’s keeping you in, and wait with you for them to wake up.

While you two are waiting, he’ll lay out everything he’s planning to do to them in awful detail- and lucky you, he even left out some things as a nice surprise!

You’ll be tied to a chair and forced to watch as their guts fall to the ground from the clean slice in their now empty abdomen while Leo picks up and talks about their functions one by one. You silently wish that you never told him that you admired his skills as the team medic.

When he’s finally done rambling about the various viscera laying on the cold floor, he’ll force you to help him clean up- “so that Raph doesn’t get mad about the mess”, as he says. He’ll hold you in his arms when the two of you are done, whispering in your ear about how sorry he is that he had to do that, but you really did force his hand, and you know that, right? If only you had listened…

When the list of people you can bring yourself to care about finally has 0 names, Leo starts to instead take things away from you. He starts small, gradually taking and taking like the parasite you’ve learned he is until all you have left are the clothes you wear and him. He’ll even deprive you of food and water for periods of time, and you can no longer tell if you wish he would shut up for once or if you’re grateful for at least anything to distract you from the constant pain in your empty stomach.

Mikey and Raph landed themselves towards the bottom because I think that they’re both more lenient with punishments (Raph would be afraid of hurting you beyond repair physically OR mentally and Mikey has generally been shown to be very patient and forgiving with people he cares about), but I also think that they might be more exhausting to be stuck with GENERALLY, wearing you down slowly in day-to-day life rather than harsh punishments for breaking whatever rules might be in place for you.

3- Raph.

Raph would try to instill learned helplessness into his darling, to make them understand why he always has to be so careful!

It’ll happen the next morning after a particularly bad argument between you two, and when he’s suddenly letting you handle sharp objects again- but oh no! For some reason you feel so sluggish and dizzy today that you messed up and sliced open your arm. It’s ok- Raph’s here for you! He’ll either patch up your arm himself or take you to Leo, and after it’s taken care of he’ll scold you and say that it’s fine, maybe he’ll give you another chance next week. And he keeps his word- once again, you’re allowed to try your hand at chopping some veggies with him or Mikey- and again, you feel dizzy and accidentally cut yourself.

This will happen many more times- or not, if you give in easily enough- at least until Raph finally decides that he just can’t keep doing this. He brought you to the lair to keep you away from harm, and despite it being to teach you a lesson, he just can’t bear to watch blood drip down your pretty skin.

So instead, he further seals you away- locking you in his room and wrapping one of his hoodies around your head. He’ll keep you like this until you finally learn.

He won’t starve you, at least. He’d hate to watch you waste away after everything, so you’ll be fine physically, but it’ll be hell to not be able to see or properly hear anything. It’ll also be more difficult to breathe properly through the fabric, so I wish you luck with that.

He’s infuriatingly nice throughout the whole thing. Of course he’s angry when you argue with him- when you hurl insults and and completely unfounded whining (yeah right) at him. Sometimes he hurriedly leaves the room so he doesn’t do anything he regrets- but when he comes back- despite your wishes that he wouldn’t- he just wraps that damned hoodie around your skull and chides you for your hostility, leaving you to wonder if this could really be better than death.

You feel insane rambling to his plushies, of which you now know the individual names of, but it’s an admittedly nice bit of company to have when your only other option is Raph. Honestly, you’d rather deal with Ms Cuddles by this point, and she even managed to wring a scream out of Donnie.

At least it’s something you can actually have even an ounce of fun doing that he won’t take away for being “too dangerous”. As long as you can tolerate his absolutely smitten behavior when he finds you talking to them.

Be careful about how loudly you complain, though- it might just land you being completely swaddled in blankets and left to go insane on his bed.

4- Mikey.

I think that if you were to try and escape from Mikey, he’d conclude that his love simply needs to spend more time with him! Maybe if he shows them how wonderful life is with him, they’ll stop trying to run away!

Unfortunately, I doubt his sleep schedule is very consistent. He keeps you up late at night to try out new spraypaints, recipes, games, anything he can find to do with you will be done. You hardly get the chance to sleep well, and the peace you get in dreams is frequently interrupted.

When he does take a break, he insists on sleeping in the same bed, and it’s much harder to fall asleep with him staring holes into you, as though he were trying to memorize every single detail.

It takes a damn long time to get Mikey to knock it off, too. You have to guess that stubbornness runs in the family, if his brothers are anything to go by. Unfortunately, said brothers’ coddling of their youngest has resulted in quite the persistent guy, and you’re quickly losing the energy to refute him. You wonder how long you’ll need to sleep for the giant spider in the corner of your vision to go away.

When the box turtle finally does realize how much of a toll his shenanigans have taken on poor you, he decides that as the person responsible for you, it’s his job to make sure that you get plenty of rest- and if you refuse, Dr Delicate Touch and Dr Feelings are always here to make sure you’re convinced!

He does a sort of 180- where he once forced you to do everything, he now forces you to do nothing at all, even when your mind screams at you to get up and move. He’ll slip something he stole from the pharmacy into your food and carry your sleeping figure back to his room for your seemingly infinite nap.

In between consciousness, you’ve learned to just stay in bed, maybe draw or write something related to all the adventures you go on in dreamworld.

Fun fact, over sleeping has a couple negative side effects- it increases the risk of diabetes, obesity, headaches, back pain, depression (like you don’t have that already, being kidnapped and all), and heart disease! I wish you the best of luck.

When he finally believes your rest to be sufficient, everything will go back to normal. Except, of course, the lingering paranoia of when it’ll happen all over again will continue to haunt you.

Who knows, maybe he’ll continue drugging you just to keep you a little more complacent. Can’t have you running away all the time, right?

#yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #yandere #tmnt x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #sigh #yknow guys i still cringe while tagging characters #oh well #anyway as i have learned begging for asks WORKS #it's GREAT #i have more things to write but. you should keep sending me ideas #maybe i'll even sketch one of them #Strawberry's basket

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bedoballoons · 1 year ago

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HIII haven’t seen me in awhile, I had to get surgery doneeeeee. But I just saw the new mitsuri heandcannons and 👌🤩 beautiful.

well 8 have a new request, can you do when mitsuri shows off her INHUMAN strength? Also just to clarify, mitsuri does not gain much s weight at all because it mostly gets turned into protein cells….?… idk I forgot but she is just insecure because of what others might think of her.

SPOILERS: so mitsuri has the strength/ if not more than I a demon from that Uni. So her strength is about more than human. For me I think still lower of an adeptis but still INCREDIBLY strong for a human. Cuz during the final battle she rips off the arm of Muzan, the demon king which I think is almost/same strength of an adeptis???… idk

Hello!!! Welcome back! I hope you're doing well after your surgery and making sure to rest! Im sorry it's taken me awhile to get to your request but I will do my best to make it worth the wait!

P.s You didn't mention which characters you wanted to I just went with the characters that were in the past one! Hope that's alright <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Mitsuri strengths~༺}

CW: Fluffy! Slight fighting mentioned! Reader is described as very strong! Established relationships with the characters!

Also in case you'd like to read my other demon slayer works they are all tagged in the linked post:

Here for more!

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, and Wanderer!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

"Watch out they are-" Dilucs words of warning would ring in your ear for only a second before the lawlchurl dashed at you, anyone else would have screamed in terror, maybe ran, but you stood still, taking the beast by the horns the second it got close enough. The giant thing was no match for you and within seconds you'd taken it down, standing ontop of it victoriously while your boyfriend stared at you in disbelief.

"Diluc-"

"You're beyond even my wildest dreams...I love you."

𑁍༄Lyney:

"Oh my..."

Lyney was in a trance...with his heart beating heavily in his chest and his head spinning with a type of yearning only you gave him. How had he never seen you in combat...

"Lyney are you alright? Did you get hurt?"

"No...I am just going to stand here for a moment longer and try to calm myself after that...truly enticing battle."

"Enticing?"

"My love, you have got me wrapped around your finger more than you realize..."

𑁍༄Albedo:

"Incredible."

You turned to face Albedo, wondering if he'd been hit over the head when you weren't looking, but to your surprise...he had a soft blush on his cheeks and a almost dazed with love expression, "Uh...you okay?"

"Yes, my apologies I just...you're so strong. I just witnessed you taking out a rather large group of monsters with no trouble at all and I must say, it's left me feeling a bit flustered...I'm in awe of you."

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"Just let me handle it!" Wanderer jumped in front of you, prepared to take out anyone who attempted to hurt you...ready to protect you till the end.

"You don't need to."

"What the hell are you talki-"

You maneuvered around him, using your strength to best your opponents one by one, leaving none able to do anything but run away begging for mercy. It was easy for you, unnatural for a normal woman...but Wanderer seemed more pleased than unhappy with it...even a little blushed.

"You...when did you get so strong hmph...next time I'm gonna stand behind you instead."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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hubristicassholefight · 8 months ago

Text

Hubristic Assholes tourney Round 1 part 3a

Herbert West (Re-Animator, both book and film) vs Victor Frankenstein (Frankenstein)

Propaganda below cut

Herbet

Literally has a whole monologue about defying god in the second movie. (https://youtu.be/BOt0rRhofuI?si=o7wCwAaT347jUmcp)

Playing God by defying death itself

Victor

"ouh im gonna create life from scratch and it's gonna be Pog and Slay" WRONG it wwas FUCKT . he didnt give that thang enough SKIN even . and then it killed his whole family, well he is just a silly guy .

Textbook definition of fuck around and find out. To his credit - yeah, he was a genius who sped through All Of Chemistry Classes in 2 years and revolutionized the field of natural sciences at his university while he was barely 20, arguably invented biochemistry (and then never told anyone) and created a human(ish) being from scratch (and again, never told anyone), BUT Honestly I don't even need to say anything here, I can literally just paste a direct quote: "Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world. A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs." He saw LIFE AND DEATH ITSELF as just a STARTING POINT ffs Needless to say, the "find out" stage hit him like a freight train making the rest of his life just one long trauma conga line until he died completely alone before even hitting 30 Give it up to our king of hubris, Greatest pathetic wet meow meow of gothic literature tbh

thought he could be better than God by making his own man so that he could later bring people (his mother) back to life. whole thing blew up in his face cause 1. he made it way too big and way too able to kill people 2. he immediately got scared of it and ran away 3. he left it alone without teaching it how to actually function as a human, further adding to the murderous tendencies.

Thinks making life is easy. Does not consider the life he made actually worth anything, He's like the platonic ideal of a shitty parent who wants recognition for Being A Parent without actually having the ability to care for someone else, just taken to a cartoonish extreme. Look where that got him.

Tries to create a whole ass person from scratch. It does not go well; The guy needs no introduction. Guy tries creates a whole human person cobbled together from dead bodies, breathes life into it, immediately abandons his creation, and proceeds to have his life completely destroyed when said creation goes on a rampage of revenge. Subtitle of the book is literally the 'Modern Prometheus.'

Do I really have to explain this one. He made a Guy. He played God. Then the Guy killed his entire family and (boy)friend; He is Pathetic

Victor wanted to play god. Created monster. Monster tried to kill him. Killed his brother, his gf, and his BFF, and came after him. A horror icon, and the modern archetype of the mad scientist in fiction. He's a pathetic pissbaby that needs to be punched. Cunt dies in the end get rekked lol.

I mean come on, Please he's like the guy

#herbert west #re animator #victor frankenstein #mary shelly's frankenstein #hubristic assholes tourney #official #poll #round 1 #round 1 part 3a #sorry to the westheads in the audience for this matchuo

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strongheartneteyam · 1 year ago

Text

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

Chapter 6

CW: lots of angst, jealousy is not even the right word to describe neteyam's state anymore, emotionally hurt neteyam, yandere neteyam, reader has a hard time trying to fight her feelings for neteyam, mentions of using someone with the intention of forgetting someone else, mild violence, mentions of sexual fluids, possessive and territorial neteyam, mentions of depressive symptoms, use of alcohol, feelings of fear, tension, confessions of love, fluff. I think that's all (??)

✨ IM BACK ✨ I can't even believe I managed to finally update this fanfic! 😂 All of a sudden I spent days on end being a 24/7 nurse for my spayed kitten and didn't have time for anything + having to give her 2 different pills at 2 different times, all during the am hours, plus another one in the morning, left me SOOO sleep deprived. It was horrible. Thank God she doesn't have to take the pills anymore. ANYWAY lol Guys, in the beginning of the chapter until the middle of it, I think, I know you guys are gonna want to murder me or reader or both (you know that y/n meme with the pic of the blonde girl "choking" her own shadow in the wall, saying like "babe this is not us" or smth? so… pretty much that! lol) BUT I PROMISE it's gonna be really good in the end 🥲 trust me, please 🥺 it's the moment most of us (yes, me included!) have been waiting for! 💕 Also, this is a longer chapter, compared to the usual. Maybe a compensation for my absence? Idk! lol I just hope you guys like it! haha OKAY if I say anything else, it'll be a spoiler lol love y'all to death!!! my readers are my babies, my lil angels… I truly freaking love you guys so much!!! 🫀⚘

Not proofread.

Chapter 5

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body

Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

(...)

I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Second, third, and hundredth chances

Balancin' on breaking branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

exile (Taylor Swift, Bon Iver)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The air was thick and chaotic at the Olo'eyktan's hut that morning. Everyone seemed to be a bit too restless, either getting ready to go show up to their duties to the clan, like Neytiri, or thinking about some personal struggle, like Kiri, who was lost in thought, looking a bit sad. But she was also mixing some herbs and flowers, preparing a thick, violet colored substance that was used to treat wounds, that she would later give to Neytiri. Kiri would always help Neytiri a lot, assisting her in her Tsahìk position in the Omatikaya clan.

But Neteyam still stood out among the whole family. He was unmistakably grumpy that morning, Lo’ak noticed, as he was - once again - watching the weird way his older brother was behaving. Neteyam was not being his usual calm and caring self. He was not trying to take care of everyone, not giving out smiles and trying to cheer his siblings up. He was even distracted when Jake was giving him instructions about how today's training would go and giving him other orders, like telling him to keep an eye on Tuk whenever he's able to, as she was growing and becoming even smarter, more energetic and mischievous and was starting to get into more trouble, sometimes even picking fights with other girls in the clan, becoming a bit too much like Lo'ak, which had been making Jake rub the sides of his forehead in worry lately, way more often than he liked to admit.

"The Mighty Warrior, distracted when dad is telling him what to do?! What the fuck is happening?!" Lo'ak thought. Something was very wrong. And Lo’ak was determined to find out what it was.

Neteyam sat with his legs slightly open, his hands were crossed, his elbows resting on his knees. He had a lost stare in his eyes, gazing at the nothingness, looking like he was mad at someone who had just maybe punched him in the face.

He did not know how to deal with it all, that turmoil of emotions you were causing inside him felt overwhelming to the Sullys first born. He had taken on just so many challenges throughout his life and conquered most of them, but he feared you were gonna be a war that he might lose. He had to admit it bruised his ego. Suddenly, he did not feel like such a Mighty Warrior after all. An adversary that most people would judge as a weak one compared to him, a mere human girl, so small in comparison to his size, was defeating him. Suddenly all his skills with bows, arrows, big knives and even big, intimidating shotguns were not enough.

And Neteyam felt lost. He did not know what to do. For the first time in his life, his rational and smart brain could not seem to produce a war strategy that could help him win. Win you. He felt just like a wounded warrior, bleeding on the floor.

༊⁀➷

You decided to finally answer Derek’s messages today, after ghosting him for a while. You were feeling weird and lonely. And shaken. God, still so shaken... What the hell happened last night? Did that really happen? Was it all just a dream? You could swear those words Neteyam Suli had given you, about how he was in love with you, that his hauntingly tall and broad figure, vulnerable, kneeling on the ground in front of you, telling you he could tell you desired him too, had all been just part of a weird, eerie, anxious, borderline wet dream.

You knew very well what you were doing to Derek. You were using him to forget about the mess Neteyam was making of you. You knew that was wrong and you did feel guilty and ashamed. But you also knew you had to step back into your old reality, into that familiar world, into your comfort zone, a place where there were only regular human guys interested in you, not that current unsettling reality you were living in - you could still swear it had all just been a dream. Or a nightmare, perhaps. You were not sure -, where there was an almost 10 feet tall alien boy pursuing you, declaring his love and his nearly inappropriate desire for you, talking about the intimate parts of your body in a way that made you uncomfortable, anxious but... that lured you in too, at the same time. You needed an escape from it all. Your already disturbed mind did not seem able to deal with those facts at that moment and Derek seemed like the perfect distraction.

Damn, what had you become? That was not ethical or moral at all - using a human being like a tool to distract you from your conflicting emotions - but you did not seem to be capable of caring too much about being ethical or moral at that time. Your whole perception of the world seemed to be changing. You felt bedazzled and unsteady. You did not want to admit to yourself that you were starting to feel too much for Neteyam, that you were running away from your feelings like a thief runs away with an expensive item he just robbed. No, you were not in love with him. How could that even be? Everybody knew the na’vi don’t get romantically involved with humans. Your races were more like enemies than buddies. There were only a few humans who were loyal to the na'vi and maintained a somewhat close relationship with them, but never a romantic one. What was making you and Neteyam feel like that for each other? That could only bring problems and you sure as hell did not want more trouble in your already complicated life.

You would be better off sticking to a human male instead. It was safe and familiar. It did not make your anxiety skyrocket. But it also did not excite you a single bit. Derek caused you nothing. You could barely even feel actually turned on when he touched your body and kissed your lips. It was just like he was a habit you had gotten used to, making out with him here and there, to numb the pain you felt inside your heart almost all the time. His biggest efforts to make you wet never seemed to work. Meanwhile, Neteyam got you wet without having ever touched you. That sure spoke loud enough.

So why were you rejecting Neteyam and going after Derek?

Maybe you felt too afraid to take a risk, to follow your heart. God knows following that damn reddish muscular organ had put you in the worst situations possible in the past. You felt numb but you felt safe. And safe felt good. Bearable, at least. You were afraid if you gave into what you felt for Neteyam you just might explode. The feelings were that strong. You did not know what to do to try and ignore that tiny but extremely annoying creature inside your brain that would always be whispering “What if something actually good came out of it? Take a risk. For once in your life, don’t play it safe.”

But you were choosing to play it safe, anyway. At least this afternoon. You were gonna meet Derek, after two weeks without doing so, and just hang out, eat junk food, drink some alcohol and talk about non important things, just laugh and be silly, like you two always used to do. He was a good friend. Too bad he never made any type of fire light up inside of you, not even in the very beginning of your rendezvous, that’s why you never got to have sex with him. You were simply not interested. At all, to be honest. You wondered why you still insisted on being physically intimate with him. There were many things in your life that you did and did not really think too much about. They were just pure routine, they just kinda happened and you let them, almost like you weren't really living your life, but only a mere spectator to the events that were happening to you. And it seemed like you felt too emotionally numb to put an end to them. Your involvement with Derek was one of those things. He started to flirt with you one day, you were bored and you thought "why not?" and now, months later, you were still caught in this situation. If anyone asked you if there was any other reason why you were gonna see Derek today other than to try and get Neteyam out of your mind, you honestly couldn't say there was. It was crystal clear to you that, even though you were fighting like crazy to deny your feelings for Neteyam, you were indeed falling for him.

But how could that be? Some days ago, he was only an Omatikaya famous warrior - and, oh, let's not forget, the next Olo'eyktan of their clan - that you had only heard people talk about.

༊⁀➷

Neteyam was up in one of the highest tree branches he could find that day. He did not want anybody to see him, as usual, but he also did not want you to know he was watching you, either. He knew you were now aware of his constant presence around you. He knew you were not oblivious to his love anymore.

The sun was harassing his eyes, so he put his hand over them and squinted hard to try and see if the guy next to you, in the laboratory’s cafeteria, was really who he thought it was. When his eyes could get a better view, once the sun was not bothering them so much anymore, he felt something sinking in his stomach and his heartbeat accelerated considerably.

He had just confirmed who the guy was. It was that disgusting little human male that liked to act like you were his mate. Neteyam hissed ferociously, his protruding na’vi fangs looking scarier than ever, as his wide feline eyes watched Derek leaning close to your face and kissing your lips. Neteyam wanted to die - or maybe kill Derek - when he noticed you kissed him back.

༊⁀➷

You forced a smile while looking at Derek, after you had the initiative to break that damn kiss who seemed to never end. He seemed satisfied with the fact that you two had just kissed, contrary to what you were feeling. You honestly felt like you wanted to throw up. All you could think about was how it would feel to kiss Neteyam, to smell his scent again, that was so abundantly different from what you were used to, but that fact only seemed to make you want him even more.

You looked away to try and forget the ridiculous mistake you were making by being with Derek at that moment. You were looking at the ground and your gaze moved upwards. Now your eyes were directed towards the outside of the lab. What you saw startled you beyond reason. Neteyam was squatting, up in the branches of a huge tree, not too close but not too far from the part of the laboratory you and Derek were currently in. His fangs were out, seeming bigger than ever, as he hissed ferociously. Neteyam's animalistic side had completely taken over him and you could tell.

A chill ran down your spine. You could feel in your guts something bad was about to happen.

Your heart throbbed in pain as you saw how hurt he was now that he had seen you kissing Derek, even after he - Neteyam - had confessed his feelings for you in such a vulnerable way last eclipse. You saw in his eyes how betrayed he felt, like you were just silently telling him that his love did not matter at all to you and you'd rather be with any other guy but him.

༊⁀➷

"Hey, I'm going outside for a while, 'kay?" Derek spoke as he got up from the place he had been sitting, beside you, kissing your cheek "The boys are gonna meet me behind the lab in a while. "

Oh, no. Derek would not be safe if he went outside. Not with Neteyam spilling hate for him out of his soul like that. You had to try and find a way to keep Derek inside.

"Oh." You said, not being able to conceal your nervousness "Why don't you wait for them to actually get there before you go?!" You almost begged, visibly tense

"God, you seem nervous." He chuckled slightly, seeming uncomfortable " Is everything alright?"

"Yeah! I just want you to spend some more time with me." You pouted at him, coming up with an excuse to try and keep Derek from going out of the lab

"Sorry, sugar. It was nice hanging out and stuff but I really need to go now." He was already walking fast towards the door before you could try and talk him out of that stupid idea

You couldn't let any of the people in that cafeteria know something was up, so, you pretended everything was alright and finished eating your chips and took the last sip of your canned whisky and coke and stood up, walking slowly (when you actually wanted to freaking run) in the direction of the lab's metal door that led to outside.

You put your oxygen mask on, took a deep breath and walked out the door.

You heard a noise, it was like a really heavy object falling to the floor. You also heard some strong thuds.

When you started to walk around to try and see what was happening, you realized your fear had become reality. Neteyam was sitting on top of Derek’s squirming body, his toned, striped thighs straddling Derek’s torax. You gasped when you realized Derek was no longer wearing his oxygen mask and Neteyam's huge hand was over Derek's mouth, preventing him from screaming for help. Neteyam looked at him like a hunter looks at their prey, while his big fangs and loud hisses put fear in the human boy's eyes. Derek was completely terrified.

Your heart beat sped up insanely and your hands were now cold as ice. You were afraid for Derek’s life.

You knew that the way Neteyam was taking out his frustration and jealousy on Derek was indescribably far from okay but still, as cruel to Derek as it seemed, you still felt incredibly sorry for the Omatikaya in front of you.

At the end of the day, you had a big percentage of blame for what he was doing right now. You were confused and afraid and torn but you knew to whom your heart belonged and it was not Derek. So why the hell were you being so selfish to the point of hurting two boys at the same time just because you didn't know how to deal with your own feelings? You realized it was time for you to stop being a coward and put an end to that madness.

You could tell Neteyam was not okay mentally and you knew that you were being toxic too, that you were contributing for his mental state to get worse with your indecisiveness and fear, despite his efforts to show you he would never hurt you. You wanted to stop hurting him and help him instead, to finally let go and admit to yourself and to him that yes, despite the way you had been acting, you were in love with him too.

"Neteyam, don't!! Let him go, please!!" You shouted, running towards the human and the na'vi boy.

You finally got close to Neteyam. He stopped and looked at you, his eyes so fiery, the calm golden pools they always used to be were now boiling with feelings of anger, jealousy, hurt and betrayal.

"For me! Please?" You pleaded him, looking deep into his eyes while stroking his strong blue arm

You watched that beast inside of Neteyam slowly calm down, as his feline ears pointed downwards and his eyes became softer. He moved his hand away from Derek’s mouth and the human boy let out a series of labored breaths. Neteyam slowly got off of him, revealing his beyond intimidating height as he stood up, and stepped away from him.

You walked as fast as you could to where Derek's oxygen mask was laying on the floor and picked it up, checking if was broken (it wasn't! Thank you, Universe.) and went back to where he was lying down and gave it back to him.

Neteyam watched your movements and felt jealous when you got close to Derek, so, once you got back to the place where you were standing before, Neteyam stood right next to your arm. His instincts told him to mark his territory.

Derek swiftly put it back on. He was almost completely out of breath. Derek breathed in deep once the mask was covering his face, taking in all the oxygen he possibly could.

"Are you okay?" You looked down at Derek’s body, searching for any visible wounds. There were none, at best. "God, I'm so sorry about this…"

"Yeah, I'm fine, somehow." Derek seemed afraid, shocked, frustrated and angry, all simultaneously, as he got off the floor and got back on his feet

"Please, don't tell anyone that you saw Neteyam or that he tried to hurt you, okay?"

"What the fuck?!! This psycho almost tried to kill me!! Why are you defending him?!"

Neteyam hissed at him when he heard what he had just called him but you squeezed his arm and he looked at you, remembering your pleas were the thing that were keeping him from killing that small, pink male. Even though it hurt him deeply that you were protecting that human, he couldn't bring himself to ignore you when you were begging him not to hurt Derek. You had Neteyam in the palm of your hand.

"You don't understand! If you let anyone in that lab know what Neteyam did to you, the RDA will eventually know about it too! Do you understand how serious this is? Do you wanna see Neteyam dead?!" You urged him, looking deep into his eyes "You could even help start another war between the humans and the na'vi. Do you understand that it is a much bigger issue than it seems to be? Just forget about what happened and I'll make sure Neteyam won't ever try to hurt you again."

Derek smirked in contempt

"How can you be so sure he will listen to you?"

"I know he will! He loves me. And… I love him too."

Derek’s face had a big question mark all over it now and his mouth fell open.

Neteyam seemed to be shocked for a while. He did not expect you to say that, at all. He thought you would never love him back. Neteyam couldn't seem to believe those words had actually just come out of your mouth.

You breathed in deep, trying to stay calm amidst all that chaos "This thing between us…" You looked at Derek "It's over. I don't know why I was still insisting on it, I never even felt attracted to you, in the first place. I'm sorry."

"I'm outta here! All of this shit that's going on… feels like a fucking nightmare"

"Can you do as I said and not tell anyone about Neteyam? Nobody, ever? Please?!" You were nervous, brows furrowed, talking fast

"Okay!! Just let me go now! I think it's better if you and I keep some distance from each other from now on. I don't want your crazy na'vi boyfriend trying to kill me again."

Neteyam hissed at Derek again when he heard the word "crazy" and Derek rapidly looked at him, startled, but couldn't be brave enough to spend more than some seconds staring at him, so, he swiftly looked away

"Neteyam, please!! He's going already." You looked at Neteyam, a bit angry and impatient, asking him to calm down "Just go, Derek." You spit out and sighed, feeling physically and mentally drained after having to stop that stupid fight

Derek finally turned his back to you and Neteyam and left.

You looked at Neteyam. His eyes were glued on you. Those pretty amber eyes. His face wasn't full of hatred and anger anymore. His demeanor was much calmer now. His body language radiated love towards you. His tail was wagging softly. You felt pain and regret consuming your chest. How could you have treated Neteyam so badly last night? You realized now you couldn't hold him to the same standards you hold human males. The na'vi are animalistic beings, in spite of their high intelligence. And worse, how could you be irresponsible enough to kiss Derek even not actually wanting to, making Neteyam see it and get as hurt as he did? You sure were being trashy.

"My tawtute…" he cooed as he turned to look in your eyes "I won't let you run away from me anymore." Neteyam had a big smile on his lips "I don't care if you try to. That's all I needed to hear, that you love me. Now that you've said it, even if you didn't say it directly to me, I'm gonna fight for you even harder, even if you keep trying to push me away, I will keep bothering you." He kept smiling, blissful "You're like an Ikran. I just need to be patient with you. Eventually, I'll tame you and you'll be mine. All mine, hi'ì 'emyu." (small cook) "Bonded to me through tsaheylu. I can be patient and I will be."

You could only look at him, stare at his face and ask yourself why. Why was he willing to put so much work into making you his mate?

"I'm not gonna run away from you anymore." You finally said "I'm done running. I'm done keeping myself miserable and alone because I'm too afraid to trust you and let you in. While trying to keep myself "safe", I was hurting myself and hurting you. I'm not doing that anymore, Neteyam. I was so stupid… I can't really say what it is, but there's just something about you… I think about you all the time, since the first time I saw you when you appeared for me outside that window. I don't believe someone can fall in love so fast but…" You were about to burst into tears "I'm in love with you."

Neteyam looked at you with the biggest smile on his plump lips, while his heart beat uncommonly fast inside his chest. He was overwhelmed with joy but as he was seeing the tears welling up in your eyes, he felt like he was about to cry too. But he didn't. Having learned throughout his whole life to always act with self control and rationality in front of everyone, - not really by choice, but because he knew that was how the Olo'eyktan to be should act, to keep a good reputation, to let his people know he was strong enough to control his emotions and not let them get in the way of him making good decisions for the Omatikaya - his ability to show some aspects of his feelings was a bit impaired now and that included crying. Even though he almost cried in front of you when you rejected him, he couldn't bring himself to cry of joy, now that you were saying that you wanna be with him too.

"I'm sorry for… what you saw. Me and Derek. I never liked him, Neteyam. He was just-"

"Yawne, no." Neteyam interrupted " It's okay. I don't wanna hear about that human." He looked disgusted only by the thought of Derek "And I don’t want you thinking about him either. You're mine now. Just forget about him. It's me that you like, right?" He gave you a gentle smile now and you nodded your head positively "Then focus on me, yawntutsyìp."

You looked at him, shyly, and smiled

"So… Can I ask for a hug, now?" your heart beat fast inside your chest cavity as you nervously said that

"Oeyä tawtute…" (my human) "You don't even need to ask." He opened his big, strong arms as he spoke "Come here."

༊⁀➷

Taglist: @kitsunefirewail @tumblingdevils @a-blog-name-2003 @xylobee @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @henhouse-horrors @lala-1516 @xylianasblog @samistars @crazy4books1 @explosiongamora @lik0 @your-girl-mj @darktyrantwinner @sereisstuff @yeosxxx @die4niyahhh @iman-lu @manumanulau @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri @thehoneymushroomhealer @melllinaa @annaibansworld @siriuslysmoking @avatar4eva @ellabellabus07 @badbishsblog @neteyamsmate4life @c-h-i-l @criticallybella

#neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x human reader #neteyam x female human reader #neteyam x omatikaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam angst #neteyam sully #neteyam suli #neteyam suli x reader #neteyam sully x reader #✎ victória writes ▢✧࿐

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reinedeslys-central · 9 months ago

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theories for survival is a talent

short bare-bones facts for anyone that hasn't heard/read the fic yet: canon divergence, hp fic, incomplete, current wc > 500k, drarry, soulmate au, canon rewrite-esque currently placed in HBP year six, about midway I think? REALLY AMAZING

I have no clue if any of this is going to make sense and most of it is probably going to be so so wrong but (SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ UP TO CH 33 YET)

theories for siat atm:

the smiths and abotts both have a claim to hufflepuff's cup, we know a smith was the last one to have it in canon and hannah's being kinda obvious with her questions to draco

I always thought bones might be another descendant bc I've seen it in other fics but something tells me it's going to be a family line with more persian roots bc of suren // possible link to slytherin

CALLED IT I was so sure Lily was Hortensia, I wasn't expecting it to be both that's so cool!!!!

hints to voldie getting stronger and more whole the more horcruxes they nab and that's why dumbledore was roasted by snape for being scared he wouldn't be able to defeat him at full power, but hey they did it in canon so maybe? there's smth there?

so the merpeople definitely know about harry being a horcrux. going to have to reread the series bc I can't remember who else knows

blaise's secret could be SO MANY THINGS atp I don't have a solid theory yet

I was kinda wondering if zaira's soulmate was amelia bones for a hot minute and she was glamouring a soulmark, I would totally peg zaira as knowing who her soulmate is and just. not doing anything about it

flrjflkjfngjd;odg im gonna have to reread to remember what the rest of my theories were I LOVE THIS STORY SO MUCH

if anyone has other theories. please add them? I don't get to talk to anyone about how excited I am abt this fic help a guy out TT

#shanastoryteller #survival is a talent #siat #headcanon #harry potter #fanfic #theories #spoiler alert

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multiplicity-positivity · 2 months ago

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Ok so

I'm sure by the time you get to this everything we're going through will be over (if not I think I would genuinely be dead) (no like literally) (I mean it's rare but--) (I'm gonna stop) but I would be curious to see what you think about this situation.

So we got "sick". It's an ear infection, actually, but it's close enough. This ear infection has been worse than any we've had in the past (were oddly prone to these things and have had at least 3 (including the current one) in the past 3 years or so) and it has taken pretty much everything energy-wise from us. We've skipped two days of school from this too. We were also in the ER yesterday for it. That makes it sound really bad, but it was just for IV antibiotics so they would take effect quicker. Doctor recommended it.

Anyways. Because of this, we have literally no clue who's fronting and haven't since this started. I don't know who I am typing this. It's just been a blurry mess.

That's what im curious about. What do we do when all of our energy is being spent on just making it through the day (oh btw we've gotten treatment and it's looking good), but... I still want to know who's fronting.

There's been no access to headspace at all, not that we normally have much, and we were just getting to the point that we could hear each other even when we're not fronting sometimes. I'm worried this will backtrack our progress. It's been 2 years that we've been working on this, and it took so long to get to this point. I don't want it to all go down the drain because of one particularly severe ear infection.

Anyways. Respond, or don't. I won't mind either way, really.

-???? (Via @cloverstarsys )

Hiya! Yowch, we’re really sorry y’all have been going through a rough time! We hope that your ear infection will recover smoothly and y’all will be able to get some rest soon! >_<

When it comes to figuring out who’s fronting… the safety and well-being of your system should come first always! Y’all might just have to take some uncomfortable time without knowing whose fronting until you reach a point where you’re stable, safe, and pain-free once again!

We know that’s not really a good answer, especially if not knowing who is fronting is seriously bothering you. But please remember that the safety of your system and your own survival is more important than anything else, including knowing who’s fronting!

We do really love this article by Kella Hanna-Wayne on the ways their system figures out who’s in front:

Some of their suggestions could easily be done even when overwhelmed, like looking over a list of headmate names, thinking about what you want to do, or listening to different kinds of music! :3

We want to reassure you that blurriness likely will not last forever! So even if these tips don’t help and you still feel blurry afterwards, we hope you can find the strength to wait it out in the hopes that, as you recover, you may gain some more clarity about who you are.

Gosh, we really hope y’all start to feel better soon! We really don’t think that all your hard work and efforts will go to waste. Progress is not linear and just because y’all feel like you’ve been set back doesn’t mean that any of your accomplishments are undone!! Please try to get some rest and remember!! Your health should come first always!! >w<

#fronting #blurry #blurriness #health #ear infection #seriously anon we are wishing you healing rest and a speedy recovery!!

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it-was-funeral-grey · 2 years ago

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Realisations in mess (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Masterlist Part 5 Part 6

Summary: you're finally home! But what is this mess? clean up + cooking with alhaitham basically

Warnings: vulgarities, trashed up house (matra's fault), reader's ankle is sprained, cleaning up, alhaitham spewing out absolute bs, they eat an onion lol (no joke i was far gone when i wrote that part), sword,

Word count: <3.4k

Inspired by:-

Author's note: im learning how to make gifs! also im not sure if its obvious, but this is gonna be a 'slowburn' type of story!

Thank you everyone for your comments and encouragement! I can;t thank you all enough!

as usual i hope this is ok i tried

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

Her house is a fucking mess.

Al Haitham can try, but he can't recall what her house looks like. But he knows it's not supposed to look like this.

Archons, what the hell did the Matra do?

He doesn't stop her when she unslings her arm from around him. Instead, he holds the door open as she hobbles into her living room. He hears her let out a defeated sigh, but when she turns around to face him, she smiles.

"Well, at least I'll have something to do this afternoon," she looks around with pursed lips. "Been thinking of rearranging stuff anyway!"

Her cheerful tone doesn't fool him. It's as clear as day that she's beyond upset at the state of her home.

"You're...going to clean up this mess on your own?" she can't be serious. The place is completely trashed (is that...Harra Spice on the floor?). "Just you. With your sprained ankle."

"Well, you did see the looks that the neighbours gave me," no, he didn't. He was focusing on other things. Like making sure she leans her weight on him, not her ankle. "I should probably keep to myself for now," she replies, her eyes downcast. "Hopefully, whatever rumours about me will die out soon."

With that, she squats down, picking up a book off the floor.

Huh, now that he thinks about it, there are a lot of books here (and yes, that's definitely Harra Spice on the floor.). And no, not notebooks or record books. Actual books- look, there's a book on languages over there and a thick book about Liyue Adeptuses right next to it. Al Haitham has never seen another house with this many books (apart from his own). In fact, most of her living room floor is covered in them, ripped from their bookshelves which lay not too far away from them.

It must have taken her years to collect this many books. He's impressed that she managed to keep them all hidden all this time.

"I'll be fine, really," her voice strains as she reaches for another book. "Thank you for helping me back! And for everything else."

Al Haitham's moving before he knows it. One second he's standing up, looking down at her picking up her books. The next, he's dropping his overnight bag and squatting down, grabbing her book for her.

"Oh! Thank you."

"You need to rest your ankle," Al Haitham states, reaching over to take the book already in her hands. "Stand up."

Moving over to her, he gestures for her to sling an arm over him before standing up with her.

"There's no way you're going to be able to clean up this mess," he unslings her hand gently before walking over to her overturned couch. "I'll help."

"Ah! It's fine," she hobbles over to him, but he's already flipped her couch over. "You must be busy. I can-"

"It's lunchtime now. Everyone's on break."

"Then you should be taking a break too!"

"I've already done so on the boat."

"Well, what about your lunch? I didn't see you eat anything."

"I had a heavy breakfast."

"That's not lunch."

"Sit down and rest your ankle."

"Hey! Did you hear what I just said?"

Despite your protests, you're grateful you won't have to clean up this mess alone.

"How do you arrange your books?" Al Haitham asks as he lifts your last toppled bookshelf back upright. "By topic? Height?" He then shoots you a wary glance. "…Colour?"

"Topic, then by height," you reply, feeling slightly useless as you sit on the couch with a newly bandaged ankle (courtesy of Al Haitham). "Wait, colour? Do people do that?"

"You'll be surprised," he chuckles, and you see his shoulders relax. "There exists a certain individual that insists on making it their personal mission to convince others to arrange their bookshelves that way purely 'for the aesthetic'," he picks up a red book off the floor, running a hand over the slightly dented cover. "You have a lot of books here."

"Do… you find it strange?" you ask meekly. You wouldn't be surprised if he did. Hardly anyone in Sumeru used books, much less kept them thanks to the (recently abolished) Personal Book Act. This wouldn't be the first time a visitor judges you about it.

"Not at all," Al Haitham replies, flipping through the book gently. "I'm just surprised that you read," he stops at a folded page. "Almost no one reads in Sumeru. Not even Akademiya scholars. All they relied on was the Akasha terminals."

He balances the book in a hand and shuts it.

"I'm impressed that you managed to get your hands on this many. The Akademiya doesn't print any books. And there aren't any bookstores in Sumeru."

He passes the red book to you, and you swear his lips curve upwards for a fraction of a second.

"It's well written, but the author gives no evidence to back up his hypothesis. It's pure speculation on his part."

"You've read this before?"

"It's a title in the House of Daena," he explains, bending down to pick up another book and reading its title. "Although it's better off as a storybook."

"The House of Daena has books about Liyue?" you ask. The book in your hands is a Liyue publication which took you many pains to obtain. If there's an easier way to get access to such books-

"Definitely," he seems intrigued by your enthusiasm. "Many darshans' studies involve learning about other cultures and regions. So, books on such topics would be provided. Although whether the students want to read them is a different story."

So they'll have books about Liyue Law! You haven't been able to get your hands on any thus far.

He picks up a few more books off the floor and places them on a bookshelf nearest to him.

"You have a lot of books on Law. And Liyue."

"Ah! Yeah," his observation shocks you back into reality. "I…actually wanted to study in Liyue's Law School."

"Wanted?"

"Well, you know," he turns to look at you, and you look away. You know you won't be able to control the disappointment written all over your face if you talk about this. "Times aren't exactly the best now. Money is tight right now, with inflation and all. So…"

"I see."

"Yeah," you sigh and quickly plaster a smile, as you turn back to him. "But it's alright. I can still read about it! There are many more books in the House of Daena, so I'll borrow them!"

"…You can only borrow books if you're a student or teacher at the Akademiya."

"Oh."

It takes Al Haitham about an hour to finally get all the books off the ground and into a somewhat orderly manner. The floor is much more empty now, save for shards of glass and foodstuff amongst overturned furniture. Al Haitham knows that the Matra are thorough in their investigations, but wrecking a house to such an extent in search of evidence is seriously going overboard.

He's going to have a long talk with the Matra stationed at Port Ormos when he gets there.

"Here?" Al Haitham asks the lady standing next to him. She's insisted on helping, against his protests. Eventually, they came to a compromise- he'll carry and arrange the books, and she'll point out where to put everything.

"Yep! These few are fine- ok, switch those two," she instructs. "Everything else is in order. Thank you!"

"Where's the broom?" Al Haitham asks, kicking a shard of glass away from her. "There's glass everywhere."

"It must be the bottle of Harra Spice I bought," she hobbles past the dining table over to the kitchen, Al Haitham following closely behind her. "I bought some groceries the day before I got arrested. I left it on the dining table and… forgot to unpack it."

She didn't forget. Al Haitham takes the opportunity to quickly pick up the chairs and push them under the table, which she thanks him for. She was taking care of me and didn't have the time to put it away.

They both ignore the splinters of wood that fall out when he moves the chairs.

"I'm sorry about this whole mess," Al Haitham sighs. It doesn't matter how he tries to reason with himself. No matter what, this whole situation is his fault. And it leaves a really bad taste in his mouth that she's the one paying the price for it. "I'll be sure to pay for whatever damages there are."

"None of this is your fault," she quickly retorts, grabbing the broom's handle…which immediately detaches from the broom's head. "And like I said," she reaches for the broom head, but Al Haitham beats her to it, taking the handle from her as well. "I've been thinking about rearranging the place anyway!"

Yeah. Rearranging, not refurbishing. Past her shoulder, he sees the wrecked kitchen. And shards of broken tableware among other objects sprinkled all over the floor. She's going to need to replace a lot of things.

"Still, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you-"

"If you really want to make it up to me, take care of yourself and don't faint in front of a random person's house again!"

"I'll do my best."

"Is…that a yes or a no?" her head tilts as she frowns, eyeing him puzzledly. "And wait! Do your best to not do that or to do that?"

And out of nowhere, Al Haitham feels the sudden urge to 'push it', as Kaveh call it. Just to see how she'll react. For research purposes.

"Celestia wills the movement of the mountain and hills." he recites an old rhyme while observing her increasingly perplexed expression with great interest. The rhyme was just his grandmother's way of saying that no one knew what the future held- except fate.

"…what?"

"May the stars align your wish alongside their plans."

"???"

The good news is that cleaning your kitchen didn't take very long. The bad news is that you pretty much have to buy a new set of almost everything for your kitchen.

No, you're not joking. All you could do was grab things off the floor and counter and throw them into the bin. It hadn't taken long for you to realise that the Matra had destroyed almost everything, save for your stove and sink, a dented, but still usable pot, a single onion and a small bottle of oil.

Nothing else was spared. Not your tableware. Not your bottles of sauce. Not any of your newly bought ingredients. And most definitely not your bottle of Harra spice.

"This should be the last of it," Al Haitham re-enters the kitchen with a fully filled dustpan. "You need any help in here?"

"No, I'm done here," you groan. The Matra had destroyed all your groceries for the week. Do you even have enough Mora to buy food again this week? "Squeaky clean!"

"…and empty."

"Don't remind me," you grumble, sitting on the counter. "How did they break so many plates? It's not even fragile! It's made of wood!"

"A hidden ability of overzealous and bored Matra, I suppose," Al Haitham says as he dumps the contents of the dustpan into your overflowing bin. "Is there anything else?"

"No, just my room. I'll settle that myself," you answer. Rubbing at your bandaged ankle, you sigh, leaning your head against the overhead cabinet. "Thank you for your help, really. I wouldn't have been able to clean this all on my own."

"It's no problem. How does your ankle feel?"

"It's alright. Doesn't hurt too much."

"That's good. Elevate it when you can."

"I will."

A peaceful silence washes over the two of you as you finally get some rest after cleaning the entire house. But all that's interrupted when your stomach suddenly rumbles.

Oh, Archons.

"I…I'm so sorry."

"Well, it is a little bit past lunchtime. How are you settling lunch?"

"I have an onion."

"Sorry?"

"I have oil too."

"You're going to eat an onion?"

"I gotta," you grip the onion in your hands. "But all my knives are broken, so I can't dice it."

"Can't you go out to buy some ingredients?" Al Haitham looks a little concerned. "You don't need to eat the onion."

"The only person who sells groceries these days is Bahram," you begin peeling the onion. "But he closes shop early. He should be closed right now."

"So, how are you planning on eating this…onion?"

"I'll try to fry it."

"You're just going to toss that whole sphere of onion onto a pan?"

"Well, I don't have a pan anymore so I'll use my pot," you grab your pot and place it over the stove. "Hopefully, it won't roll out."

"Now, hold on. Don't do that."

"I mean the other alternative is eating it raw, but-"

"Use this."

"Hm?" you pour some oil into the pot before turning to him. "What the he-"

"Calm down. You're going to spill the oil onto the floor."

"Where did that come from?!"

"From me."

Before you is a beautiful green blade, rounded by a white and gold spine. A majestic aura surrounds it- as if it belongs to a higher being. It almost looks too holy to touch.

"Here. Use it to dice the onion."

HUH.

"Waitjustholdonasecond," your words jumble as you struggle to understand his request. "You want me to take your fancy blade and use it to cut the onion?"

"Yes," he pushes the blade further towards you. "Go on."

"You can't be serious. I can't do that to your sword!"

"If it's hygiene you're worried about, I assure you that-"

"No, it's not that!" honestly, it kind of scares you how hygiene isn't your main concern here. "Your sword! I can't cut an onion with your sword! What if I break it?"

"If my sword breaks from cutting an onion, I wouldn't carry it around."

"You carry it around? Where? I didn't see- ok, I'm going off-topic," you sigh. "Are you sure I can use it? It looks really expensive and I don't wanna, uh, desecrate it."

"It's a sword. It's meant for cutting things," he takes the onion from you and slices it into two before handing it over to you. "You're using it as intended. I don't see the problem."

"If you say so…" he lets the blade go into your hands, and you jerk at the sudden weight. "Oh- Archons, how do you carry this?"

"You alright there?"

"Yep, yep, I- I'll be fine!"

Your onions end up more chunky than usual, but you'll take it. You heat up the oil (after trying to squeeze out every last drop of oil from the small bottle) and gently add in the onions later. The sounds of sizzling oil fill the kitchen, and you happily take in the scent emitting from the pot. After a while, you feel that it's time to stir it around so you-

Wait. How are you gonna stir it?

"Uh oh," you grab the handle of the pot, tilting it from one end to the other. But it's no use. The onions aren't flipping over. "Oh no."

"Hm?"

"I forgot I don't have a spatula. I can't flip it."

"Use the sword."

"I- fine. Use the sword."

The final product looks better than you expected. Golden brown onions lay on top of each other inside the pot and your mouth waters at the sight.

"You'll have to wait till the pot cools down a little," Al Haitham cautions as he places the pot on the dining table. "Or else you'll burn your hand when you reach in for a slice."

"Haha, no."

"Hey! What did I just say-"

You really can't help yourself. You're too hungry. Reaching into the pipping hot pot, you pinch a piece of onion and quickly toss it into your mouth.

"Ah- hwot-"

"Unbelievable."

"Take- a slice!" you say between blowing out hot air. "It tastes pretty good! Must be the fancy sword flavour."

"I'll take one when it cools down a little. So I don't burn my fingers and the roof of my mouth."

"Suit yourself."

And the two of you fall into another cycle of silence- this time only interrupted by the sound of you blowing out hot air and Al Haitham scoffing at the display before him. Eventually, the pot cools down, and he takes up your offer and grabs a piece.

"What do you think? Pretty good, right?"

"It's good."

"That's all you have to say about the onions your sword painstakingly chopped?" you hold your chest in fake shock. "How dare you, good sir!"

"Well, my sword seems happy enough," he plays along, reaching a hand out. In an instant, the blade materialises. "I don't see any dissatisfaction from it."

"Woah!"

And then the blade disappears. And his hand is again as empty as your kitchen is.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what? Keep my sword?"

"Yeah! And make it reappear!"

"Well…"

The rest of your meal is spent happily chatting and making the poor man materialise and keep his blade over, and over again.

As selfish as it sounds, you don't want him to go. Because the moment he does, you'll be alone in Vimara Village, with nothing but rumours to keep you company.

But he has a job to do- an important one, at that. He's Sumeru's Acting Grand Sage. He's not a friend.

"I think it's about time I take my leave," he finally says, snapping you out of your train of thought. Standing up from his shaky chair, he grabs his overnight bag. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Not at all," you reply, slowly standing from your chair as well. "I'm sorry that I couldn't host you under better circumstances."

"Would you happen to know where a certain Dilawar lives?" he asks. "I was told that he lives here."

Ah, so that's why he's here.

"Mr Dilawar lives not too far from here. Just head upwards from here and stop at the second house from the bridge," you answer. "Are… you here to fix Port Ormos?"

"Yes," he replies. "The closure of the port is not a problem I can ignore. Discussing the current state and future of the port with the trade supervisors is a crucial step in fixing the problem."

"Well, if you're on the case, then there's nothing for us common folk to worry about," you let out a relieved sigh. "With you as the Acting Grand Sage, Sumeru is in good hands."

"…Thank you."

You walk him to your front door, and he pauses outside for a moment to look back at you.

"Make sure to rest your ankle."

"I will."

"Keep a look out for any shards of glass on the floor. I may have missed them."

"I highly doubt that, but alright."

"And," he pauses again, looking over at your bookshelves. "Don't give up hope on going to Law school."

"Eh?"

"You must have taken a lot of effort to collect and read through all those books," he says. "It'd be a pity if all that effort went to waste."

He stands a little straighter, looking you in the eye this time.

"This is a temporary issue. Don't let something like that ruin a lifetime of fulfilment."

With that, he turns around.

"Well then, see you."

"Ah! Yeah, see you."

And he walked off.

"Well, you know," she doesn't turn away fast enough for Al Haitham to miss that crushed expression of hers. "Times aren't exactly the best now. Money is tight right now, with inflation and all. So…"

"I see."

So, it's a money issue. The reason that she's giving up her dream is because of money.

Like hell he's going to let that happen.

He'll solve it. He'll fix Sumeru's entire economy. He'll force the port open with his own two hands.

Just get that look off her face.

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