#trying not to hate everything I draw challenge impossible

[oreokins]

speedstorm anxiety doodles

ft. some joy too,, tho don't really like how the joy ones came out,, aghhh

[theonottsbxtch]

Hi again! It’s 🐴

I have a request for youuu. What if there is a spy!reader that has been at blows with spy!Oscar Piastri? They’re enemies that will eventually turn to lovers perhaps? 👀 I do love me a good enemies to lovers trope sometimes.

SKYFALL PT.1 | OP81

an: hello again sugar! oh my god the fun i had so much fun writing this, it's a short series. i wrote it all yesterday when i was on a massive coach trip up to see my friend and i am now in love with spy!oscar piastri RAHHH, i also had to name this skyfall because that's like the trademark song for formula one

wc: 2.5k

The rain was relentless, a steady downpour that washed over the narrow Italian streets, cloaking everything in a hazy mist. The city had always had a certain charm, but tonight it felt like a battlefield. She moved swiftly through the shadows, the collar of her coat pulled up, shielding her from the cold rain. She’d memorised every turn, every alley. There was no room for mistakes tonight.

She approached the dimly lit café, her pulse steady, her mind sharp. This was supposed to be an easy job—retrieve the data, disappear. But in her line of work, things rarely went as planned.

Inside, the familiar hum of quiet conversations filled the air. Tourists sipped espresso, locals lingered over wine. She took a seat by the window, her eyes scanning the room beneath her calm exterior. The contact was late. She hated late.

Just as she began to grow impatient, the door swung open, and he walked in.

Her breath caught in her throat. Him.

Oscar Piastri.

Of all the spies in the world, it had to be him on the same mission as her.

He strode in with that same infuriating confidence, the same icy precision that made her blood boil. His eyes flicked toward her, and for the briefest moment, a spark of recognition passed between them, but his expression remained unreadable. He was good at that—masking every emotion behind that cold, calculating demeanour.

They had a history, and it wasn't a pleasant one. Their agencies had been at odds for years, and every time they crossed paths, it ended in a battle of wits, and occasionally, fists. Oscar represented everything she loathed—arrogance, superiority, and an unnerving calm that made him impossible to shake.

She kept her eyes on him, but her heart raced faster now. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. He was here for the same reason she was. The data. The intel. A mission neither could fail.

Oscar made his way to the counter, seemingly unaware of her presence, but she knew better. He never missed anything. Every move he made was deliberate, every step calculated. When he glanced her way again, their eyes locked, and this time, the tension between them was palpable. It crackled in the air, sharp and electric, drawing a few curious glances from other patrons. It could have been cut with a butter knife.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew.

Of course, he knew.

She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to remain still. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her riled. Not again. Not like last time.

But that smirk. That damn smirk was infuriating.

He slid into a seat at the bar, casually ordering a drink. His back was to her, but she could feel his attention on her, a subtle challenge in the air. They both knew what this meant. Their agencies might have sent them for the same intel, but there was no sharing in their world. It was winner take all.

The only problem? He was as skilled as she was. And maybe, just maybe, he was a little better.

The waitress approached, handing her a folded napkin along with her coffee. She didn’t need to open it to know who it was from. She unfolded the paper carefully, her hands steady despite the irritation bubbling beneath her skin.

"Looks like we’re playing this game again, sweetheart. Try to keep up this time."

Her fingers curled around the napkin, crumpling it as she glanced up at him. Oscar didn’t turn around, but she could sense the amusement radiating off him.

He was baiting her.

This was how it always started between them. A game of cat and mouse. Only neither of them was ever quite sure who was which.

She stood up, throwing a few bills on the table when she noticed her contact. If he wanted a chase, she would give him one. But this time, she wouldn’t let him win. Not again.

She stepped outside, the rain cooling the heat of her frustration. As she disappeared into the night, she could feel his eyes on her back, watching, waiting.

But if Oscar Piastri thought he could outsmart her this time, he was sorely mistaken.

She moved through the rain-slick streets, her mind racing ahead of her. She knew Oscar wouldn’t wait long to make his move. He never did. This was a game they’d played too many times before, and she knew the pattern. He would strike soon—he had to. They were after the same intel, and neither of them could afford to let the other get ahead.

She ducked into a narrow alley, her hand resting lightly on the concealed weapon at her side. Her eyes scanned the rooftops, the windows, anywhere an ambush could come from. Oscar was as subtle as a shadow, but she knew his tricks.

Her ears caught the faintest scrape of a shoe against wet pavement, and she spun around just as a figure emerged from the dark. Oscar, dressed in black, his eyes gleaming under the streetlight’s faint glow.

“Took you long enough,” she called, her voice dripping with challenge.

“I thought I’d give you a head start this time,” he replied smoothly, his deep voice cutting through the rain. He stepped closer, his movements fluid, predatory. “How kind of me, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

She scoffed, her muscles tensing as she prepared for what was coming. Oscar was many things—arrogant, infuriating, dangerous—but slow wasn’t one of them. He’d never given her a head start in his life, and he wasn’t about to now.

The brief moment of stillness stretched between them like the taut string of a bow, tension building, unspoken. Then, without warning, he lunged.

She darted backward, her reflexes sharp, as his fist cut through the air where her face had been seconds ago. He was fast, faster than most, but she was ready. She countered with a sharp kick aimed at his ribs, but Oscar caught her ankle mid-air, twisting just enough to throw her off balance.

Before she could react, he yanked her toward him, spinning her in a blur of motion. Her body twisted through the air, her legs wrapping around his neck as she locked her thighs, using his own strength against him. For a split second, she thought she had the upper hand, feeling his body jerk in surprise as she clung to his shoulders, her weight dragging him downward.

But Oscar was quick to recover. He snarled under his breath, his hands gripping her waist as he spun, using the momentum to slam her back-first into a nearby table of a cafe that most certainly didn’t deserve this. The wooden surface cracked beneath the force of the impact, and pain shot through her spine.

He didn’t stop. His hands were on her throat before she could regain her footing, the pressure cutting off her air as he loomed over her, his expression dark and dangerous. His body was close, too close, and the heat radiating from him only made the fight more intense.

She struggled beneath his grip, her vision swimming as his fingers tightened. She had to admit, he was stronger than she remembered. But she wasn’t going to lose this one.

A wicked grin spread across her lips, even as she gasped for breath.

"Careful, Piastri," she rasped, her voice teasing despite the situation. "If you wanted me on my back, all you had to do was ask."

For a fraction of a second, his grip faltered, his dark eyes narrowing in irritation. That split-second was all she needed.

With a sudden, powerful twist of her hips, She used his distraction to break free, her legs kicking up to hook around his arm. She yanked hard, flipping him off balance and sending him crashing into the ground beside her. She rolled, agile as ever, and landed on top of him, pinning him with her knee pressed firmly into his chest.

Oscar gasped, his chest heaving beneath her weight as she leaned down, her face inches from his.

"Guess I still have the upper hand, sweetheart," she whispered, her tone mocking, breathless, but victorious.

He glared up at her, lips pressed into a thin line as he struggled beneath her, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed a mix of frustration and something else. Something darker, deeper.

But she didn’t linger on the moment. She leaped off him, her body moving like liquid as she darted toward the edge of the alley, knowing she needed to escape before he recovered.

Oscar was strong, but she was faster. He wouldn’t stay down for long, though. They both knew this was far from over.

As she melted into the shadows, her heart pounding, she couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had shifted something between them. The game they’d been playing for years now felt different, more dangerous. The stakes had always been high, but now, there was something else simmering beneath the surface—a heat neither of them was ready to acknowledge.

Not yet, at least.

************************************************************************

The sterile lights of the Mercedes Headquarters flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows on the cold concrete walls. Her footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway as she approached the director’s office, her mind replaying the events of the night. She hadn’t expected to run into Oscar—certainly not like that. And yet, here she was, about to explain why she had come back empty-handed.

Her stomach knotted, not from nerves, but frustration. She’d let him get too close. She’d let him distract her. And now, there would be hell to pay.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door to her boss’s office. The room was dimly lit, with a desk cluttered with files and a single lamp illuminating the figure seated behind it—Director Wolff. He didn’t look up as she entered, but the air around him was heavy with expectation. She had been here before—too many times, honestly—but something about this time felt different.

“Agent,” Wolff said finally, his voice low and gruff, as he finished signing a report and set the pen down with deliberate precision. His piercing blue eyes lifted to meet hers. “I take it you have the intel?”

She stood straighter, her jaw tightening. “No, sir.”

The silence that followed her words was thick, suffocating. Wolff leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him as he regarded her with a look that was both calm and dangerous.

“No?” His voice was soft, too soft, and that made it worse.

She shook her head, holding his gaze. “There was... interference. Agent Piastri showed up. He’s working for—”

“I don’t care who he’s working for.” Wolff’s words cut through hers like a knife. “I care that you don’t have the intel you were sent to retrieve.”

She swallowed hard, knowing there was no good explanation for this. “We fought. He got in my way, and the situation escalated. By the time I—”

Wolff slammed his hand on the desk, making her flinch. “You let him distract you.” His voice was low, but laced with fury. “This isn’t the first time Piastri has interfered with one of your missions, is it?”

She gritted her teeth. “No, sir.”

“And yet, every time you come face to face with him, you come back empty-handed.” Wolff stood, walking around his desk with a measured calm that only added to the tension in the room. His tall frame cast a long shadow as he stopped in front of her. “I’m beginning to wonder if you have a weakness for him, Agent.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Absolutely not. He’s a distraction, but—”

“But nothing,” Wolff snapped. “You’re one of the best agents I’ve got, but lately it seems like Piastri has you off your game. Why is that?” He raised an eyebrow, scrutinising her in a way that made her feel exposed, vulnerable. “Why is it that whenever Agent Piastri shows up, you forget your mission?”

“I didn’t forget my mission.” Her voice was sharper than she intended, but she couldn’t help it. The insinuation that she had been anything but focused stung. “He ambushed me, and it slowed me down. I was going to—”

“You were going to what?” Wolff’s tone dripped with disappointment. “Let him slam you into a table again?” His eyes flicked over her, taking in the faint bruising on her collarbone, the subtle strain in her movements. He knew. Of course, he knew. He always knew. “I heard what happened, Agent. And don’t tell me he caught you off guard, because that’s not an excuse I’ll accept.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, biting back the anger that threatened to bubble over. He made it sound so simple. So black and white. “He’s not just anyone, sir. You know that. He’s trained, just like I am. Better, in some ways. I’m not going to pretend that he doesn’t—”

“Better?” Wolff cut her off, his voice rising for the first time. “If he’s better, it’s because you let him be. He knows how to push your buttons. That’s his strength. And you let him. Again and again, you let him get into your head.”

She winced. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know this. Oscar had a way of playing with her, of winding her up, of distracting her just enough to gain the upper hand. And she hated him for it. But more than that, she hated that Director Wolff was right.

“I didn’t let him,” she said, her voice quieter now, more controlled. “But I underestimated him. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” Wolff said, his eyes hard. He moved back to his desk, leaning on it as he folded his arms. “Because next time, if you fail to retrieve the intel because of him, I won’t be so forgiving. This is your last warning, Agent. I expect results. Not excuses. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” She said, swallowing her pride. She couldn’t afford to push back. Not now.

“Good.” He didn’t soften, didn’t let her off the hook. Instead, he straightened and looked down at her with a calculating gaze. “We have a mission coming up. A big one. I was considering putting you on the team, but if you’re going to let Piastri get the better of you again, I’ll reconsider.”

“I won’t,” she said firmly, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. “I’ll handle him.”

“You’d better,” Wolff said, his tone cold. “Because if you don’t, someone else will. And I won’t be as concerned about what happens to him—or you—next time.”

She stood there for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. Wolff wasn’t bluffing. If she didn’t prove herself, if she let Oscar interfere again, her career could be over. And worse, the agency wouldn’t hesitate to take out both of them if they became a liability.

She turned to leave, her thoughts a whirlwind of frustration, anger, and something else. Something that gnawed at the edges of her mind, though she refused to acknowledge it.

Oscar.

He’d been under her skin for too long, and now, it was affecting her missions. That couldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t let it.

But even as she left Wolff’s office, her heart still pounding from the confrontation, a small part of her wondered if it was already too late. Oscar Piastri wasn’t just an enemy anymore. He was something far more dangerous.

And she had to figure out how to beat him, before he beat her.

part two

[thesorcerersapprenticeu]

Chapter 10: Indebted To

Summary:

The end of an era, and at the same time the conclusion of an act. With Singed at your side, your new mentor and teacher, you try to build a new life for yourself. It was to be expected that this would not be without challenges for your psyche and well-being. But as you continue to develop, you are hit by another stroke of fate that sets everything on a different course once again.

Notes:

Oh my god, this chapter is just...phew. Welcome back! Yeah, took me a bit, but what more could you ask for than a chapter of this fanfiction on a Sunday. I've (maybe) proctastinated a little, but I have to say that this chapter is the best yet, and longest, in my opinion. Almost 7K words of pure development, science, magic, relationships, old memories and a breach of trust that destroys everyone again. But I don't want to say too much, welcome to your new home of Singed, and have fun reading this chapter!

---

"Hydrogen?"

"63%"

So this is how it looks now:

You, two years later than then, next to Singed in a laboratory. The green lights illuminate all the equipment, all the test tubes, individual substances that even react to the light, and of course your and Singed's face.

You've grown a little, according to Singed still too little for your age, but you didn't mind. You had slightly longer hair, which was quite soft and lay on your shoulders. You weren't anorexic, but you were so incredibly thin that you hated looking in the mirror and seeing your ribs.

"Oxygen?"

"26%"

Your mental maturity and intellect inevitably increased. With Singed as your teacher, the foundations were laid. You, continuing to research magic and Singed as a mentor in the fields of science, such as chemistry and biology. While he teaches you things about humans, you continue to research areas that a normal person would never get to.

It was funny when you thought back:

How you were weeping at Vander's corpse, with newfound magic flowing through your arm and slowly but surely healing your body.  How your mind was in as much shambles as the Cannery. How you clung desperately to your 'Steel Ball' and your Two Books because they were the last things you had left from your old life.

Your memories of Vi, Powder, Claggor and Mylo were already a little hazy. Not in the sense that you couldn't remember how they looked or what they did, it was more an ethical question of whether any of you could ever live a normal life.

Your life was already anything but that in this corrupt world.

A little later after the incident in the Cannery, you realized that you could use the magic that flowed through your body through the Corpse's arm. At first, it was difficult to control the aura that flowed through your life energy and the arm. In your room at Singed's home, you were awake almost every night for the first few weeks, trying to find a moment when you might be able to use one of your spells.

But it simply didn't work, at least not yet. Magic was and is a complicated thing, it wasn't written in your two books, but this reality made you aware of it.

It was impossible to create something out of nothing.

"If one wishes to obtain something, something of equal value must be given"

These were the laws of magic, which you diligently noted down in the books. In general, you began not only to read, but to write notes and discoveries in the books yourself. The book with the map of Jayce Talis was almost completely empty before, but you filled it with drawings of the Corspeparts and descriptions that you were best able to give.

But even if no spell of your own was created from your magic, there was something that was just as powerful: Rotation. You noticed it before, the letters on your arm pointed it out to you, but you hadn't understood it yet.

Rotation was a natural force in this world. You don't normally see it, but if you look very closely, you can find it everywhere. The energy with infinite potential, and more importantly, it reacts incredibly strongly to magic.

One night when you wanted to try something, you came up with the following theory:

You, sitting on your bed, books to your left and right. Sweaty hair due to nervousness, a serious look and an idea that you now wanted to test. In front of you, on your blanket, lay a blue crystal that Powder had given you back then.

The idea was that the Enforcer Gadget might be able to stabilize it and create an incredible source of energy.  So you stretched out your two arms, went to both sides of the crystal and focused your magical aura on it.

When a bright blue light, a dangerous feeling and a threatening explosion followed, you stopped immediately. But less than a minute later, Singed was already at your door. You, who thought you were in trouble, were wrong, because Singed wanted to know all about the energy that these small crystals emit.

And after three months of hard work, you both made it: Spheres, about the size of a baseball, blue and more dangerous than any weapon a single person could use. The rotation gave you the ability to spin them incredibly fast in your hands, allowing you to throw them at things and, in the case of a human, even ripple their muscles.

So, you called them Steel Balls. Since you, the too small and weak boy, had a big disadvantage in a direct fight, you could now compensate for this. A good rotation on your steel ball with your right arm, a good throw and determination brought you one step closer to victory.

And after a year, you even learned to adjust the rotation so that it worked like an algorithm. You put it on, through the magic of the corsepart, threw your steel ball, fulfilled the purpose, and your steel ball flew back into your hand, truly magical.

But no matter what, somewhere deep inside you couldn't shake the thought that this life didn't suit you.

Of course Singed was a good teacher, in his field he was definitely second to none, even if he often told you that there were other people who came close to him, you just knew that they were far from his level, at least in practice.

You could disappear every day, just run away and somehow ask someone in town for help, I mean, who wouldn't want to take in a little boy like you? Besides, Singed wouldn't care if you disappeared, he's just thinking about his experiments anyway...

And that's exactly why you were here.

To save Vander.

The tall and physically strong man who was about to die was a task in itself. Even Singed wasn't sure at first whether Shimmer would bring him back or heal his injuries. According to blood and oxygen data, Vander was already brain dead, and without brain, no life.

But you created the Shimmer version that would ultimately save Vander. It took time, and you learned incredibly quickly, which Singed noticed. The process was logical to you, but you seemed to have more understanding of the chemistry behind the drug than Singed himself, the creator of it.

"No, less of the serum and more of the growth hormones." Singed's voice rises through the large lab, the size and equipment making it echo at the same time. He is sitting behind you at a small table, giving you instructions. "To push the nerves to their limit, you have to... give them a push."

Meanwhile, you're standing at your little work table, with your standard coat on your silhouette, mixing various chemicals in a test tube. You've only been here a few weeks, with Singed, and you're already researching his drug, the 'Shimmer', with him.

Although you knew what the drug could do, it was really interesting for you. Since your parents only ever conducted legal experiments in the kingdom and other things back then, it was important to see the other side, and here you could even work on that.

This is your very first attempt at chemical drugs. Before that you may have read about them in one of the books at home, but of course they were not a guide.

You get more and more nervous when you think about how Singed is just a few steps behind you and you are trying to mix his special drug - it was a strange situation that you could never have imagined before. All your chemical knowledge that you had stored away somewhere, now tested by a genius.

Shimmer was incredibly complicated, but you quickly got the hang of it. You had no other choice, Singed doesn't give you instructions, nor does he explain how the drug is structured. You have to do everything yourself while he watches you and evaluates you like a teacher evaluates a student.

You mix a kind of dopamine booster into the purple liquid and the color immediately changes - it becomes more intense, almost glowing. A fine, iridescent smoke rises, like mist curling in the air. The mixture begins to pulsate slightly, as if it is coming alive, and a sharp, metallic smell fills the room. It feels as if you have created something uncontrollable - and that was exactly your goal.

You know the ingredients of Shimmer, at least you think you do. But to heal Vander's wounds and internal bleeding, you need a much stronger version of it. More stem cell activators, more viruses that introduce genetic information into cells and all sorts of other things to help Vander regain his former strength.

You hold the container in your hand and see how the liquid inside pulsates gently, as if it had its own heartbeat. The glow is mesmerizing, an intense, dangerously beautiful purple that makes the shadows dance in the room. There's something eerie about the smoke that rises from the mixture - it wafts around your fingers in fine clouds and leaves a cool, tingling sensation on your skin.

A feeling of pride flows through you, mixed with a nervous excitement. You've done it, for the first time in your pathetic life. You have created something that resembles pure power - but at the same time you are aware of the danger that lies in this small, liquid catastrophe. Part of you hesitates, wondering if you're doing the right thing.

But the other part of you, the part that showed Pure Determination and did not hesitate to kill for its goals, showed you what you were doing it for:

Your eyes wander from your workstation to the large glass cylinder placed in front of you, in which Vander's body is preserved. His swollen skin, and the veins visible through the shimmer currently flowing through his body, evoke in you a reference to the object you are holding in your hand.

Your heart beats faster as you put the container down. At that moment, you feel like a creator and a destroyer at the same time - and the power you hold in your hands sends a cold shiver down your spine.

In a way, the Shimmer even reacted with you, and Singed noticed that right away, and something else as well.

Impossible?!

There stood Singed, looking directly over your shoulder at the test tube in your hand. His mind raced with thoughts as he kept his gaze on the substance in your hands.

This boy...He made Shimmer for the first time, and it's already better than my recipe. And all this without experience? If Heimerdinger only knew what a genius I've found... But he's dangerous.

His gaze fell on you again as you stood at the workstation and looked down at the test tube.

He was sure he wasn't imagining it, the substance was trying to warn him.

Exactly at the point where your fingers were attached to the glass, the substance began to boil and a putrid smell to be released, a warning that literally stung him in the eye. As if magma was emerging, wanting to be seen, reading signs of incomprehensible potential.

His potential will catch up with us all at some point, whether it's Heimerdinger or me. He has already surpassed even this boy called Viktor... I have to teach him before it becomes my undoing. And he's only been here for seven weeks...

His Talent is Magnificent...And Terrifying. With the magic that flows through his body...

I have awakened a monster.

"Carbon?"

"9%"

But no matter how many new skills you've discovered, steel balls or magic, no matter how much new knowledge you've acquired and how much of a genius you've become, the memories, feelings and consequences of that one day continue to haunt you.

Depression of the worst kind, sudden hallucinations of Mylo, Claggor or Vander standing in the distance. But no matter how hard you try to get to them, they disappear at the last moment and realization sends you back to reality. You thought it was schizophrenia combined with trauma.

However, Singed seems to have found another disease that affects you. He doesn't have a name for it, but your size and strength should develop slowly due to puberty, but it does so much slower than the average human.

He made an assumption that you may have had contact with chemicals from an early age.

At that moment you stopped dictating the chemicals in the human body, and were briefly, very briefly shocked. Hundreds, thousands of memories of your real family flooded your mind, especially the days when you watched them in the lab.

The memories of your mother, father, sister and brother appeared like a tumor in your brain that you should have cut off a long time ago. Insults, snide behavior and so much more that you had to endure in that household.

And no one had ever believed in you.

And now look at you: Your body is flooded with magic, you have a part of the Wizard's body. You have become proof of the impossible, so to speak, which everyone used to see as nothing more than a fairy tale.

Now you could explain spells from the book, even perform some of them and much more. You would never have expected to be able to do something like that, and now look.

Furthermore, in the two years you spent at Singed, your magical abilities grew far beyond anything you could have ever hoped for.

You could feel life energy in a kind of sixth sense. You could already feel the aura that was converted from energy and now surrounds the body from afar, as well as the intention and feelings behind it. With Singed, it was always calm, constant and absolutely in harmony with his work.

You called it an aura because everyone had one, which actually supports your theory. Aura was basically life energy that helps the human senses to perceive things. But no human could feel it or control it... Except you, at least. Through the right corpse arm you could let the magic flow through your body, and also anchor it outwards to protect yourself or 'scan' the environment.

So you have literally evolved, unlike before, so let's get back together:

Back then: small and petite, engrossed in books, without any physical strength. Reserved, insecure - more anxious than anyone else in the group. Marked by a painful realization of your weaknesses, with a goal in mind that seemed unattainable, and surrounded by people who were far too good for you in your eyes.

And now: Still small for your age, but full of danger. A body imbued with magic and steel balls that can manipulate the muscles of others with a single throw. A mind that is constantly sharpening and developing. Yet deep within you still lingers the guilt and shadows of the consequences left by your past.

Your connection to magic, through the corpse arm that is in you, certainly made you a different person.

All beginnings are difficult, but this is not a new beginning, but a rebirth.

You have been reborn as The Sorcerer's Apprentice.

But even as a reborn, the past still pulls at your shadow. Especially because what happened back at the Cannery is your fault. You had to try to prove yourselves with Powder, and what happened? Sacrifices and consequences that couldn't be worse.

It's funny to have seen the white side of science from your parents back then, and now to find the talent from you on the dark side. It's like you were never going to be part of the scientist family anyway, and now you're more sure of it than ever.

"Protect her"

Every time you remembered Vi's words, you had to throw up. There was no other way you could bear the guilt, it was tearing you apart and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

And so the memories of Powder resonated with you for the next while, and you finally understood: You liked her.

You're sure that you're probably the last person to have understood it properly. It must have been really obvious and the others must have always talked about it among themselves, how embarrassing.

Your yearn for Powder only got stronger without her presence, so strong that even Singed noticed it during the experiments and often asked if "something was wrong?". Of course you didn't tell him, it would not only be embarrassing but also complicated. He actually understood and left you alone, apparently realizing that you didn't want to be reminded of it.

Powder's eyes, her soft skin, her smile... Having everything taken away from you hurts so incredibly. And not knowing what had happened to her since that day gave you so much pain in your stomach that you often had to cry yourself to sleep.

But the shock hits you harder than the explosion in the Cannery.

You destroyed their lives. Not just hers, but Vi's, Vander's, Claggor's, Mylo's and every other poor soul who witnessed your determination. Not only you had to live with the consequences, they all did, at least the ones that survived.

As you lay buried under the thousands of pieces of rubble, you could hear Powder and Vi outside for a moment. You were sure you heard Vi angry, and Powder crying or screaming, all because of you.

And then one day came...

It was at night, you're pretty sure.

Singed's home, as he called it, was incredibly quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the wind blowing through the whole construct, leaving a light melody as it bumped against it.

You sat on your bed almost every night, unable to close one eye. Because when it happened, you had bad nightmares, nightmares where everyone blamed you for everything you deserved. Mylo, Claggor and even Vander, who seemed to have lost their lives because of you.

You've been counting the days since you've been here. 906 days since the explosion at the Cannery and the attempt to save Vander.  906 days since you stopped sitting on her bed with Powder, laughing or talking about something. 906 days since you've been battling sleep deprivation and depression every day, brought closer to the edge every day.

You focus your magic on your whole body, you see it with your open eyes. Your aura radiates a permanent, calm white that floats evenly around you like a gentle mist. It feels peaceful and stable, almost calming, yet there is an unshakeable strength in its quiet presence.

It was something like meditation, and at the same time it helps you to deal better with your magic. You didn't have this sixth sense for years, and you've only had to live with it for two years.

You imagine what it would be like if you had one of your Steel Balls in your hand right now. The shimmering blue color and how it would fly if you put enough magic into the rotation. And after it hits its target, it spins and magically flies back into the palm of your right hand.

Your legs feel strangely heavy, your head strangely light and the whole situation strangely alarming.

What is that feeling?

It doesn't take a second, and you're already standing at the door to your room. It was right next to the lab, so you had a good view of the huge glass container where Vander is kept. The various lights shining throughout the lab, some of which hit your eyes, make you dizzy.

And then you realize it.

This is not Singed's aura.

Your mind sharpens within seconds, even if you are insanely tired, it feels wrong not to pay attention now. So you try a little harder with your magic and your logical and rational thinking.

And so your gaze falls on him.

Silco.

You didn't even need to analyze the features. His height-tall and imposing, though his thin frame gives him a wiry, almost spectral presence. His skin is pallid, with a greyish hue that seems to absorb the dim light around him, and his jet-black hair is neatly styled into an undercut, stark against his weathered features.

His aura had a minimal difference to Singed's, it was spiking. Singed was always calm, but you're not sure about him, it looks like he could explode at any moment, like he's hiding an incredible amount of anger with a calm demeanor.

But you're not worried about his aura or his appearance, rather:

What is he doing here? And what does Singed have to do with him?

"I hope he survived without injury?" Silco's calm voice carries throughout the lab as you continue to peer through the door slit.

"Yes, but not without internal bleeding." Answers Singed, also with a calm tone and an undertone.

They both stand in front of the glass container, so you can see them both at the same time. However, if one of them were to turn backwards now, it would definitely not be good for you or Singed.

"He was like a brother to me..." Silco finally speaks, taking a step closer to the container. He puts his right hand on it and looks up, where Vander's face was covered by the dark-colored liquid. "It's a shame he went that way."

"Well... You can't always count on everything..." Singed mentions after a few seconds, still in the same voice, but now in a different position. He moves two steps away from Silco and leans against a table while fiddling with the bandage on his face with one hand. "Especially not with humans."

Your eyes fall on Silco. After all he's done, he's here now, standing within ten feet of Vander, who you gave everything you had to save. The many cables, combined with the dark light reflection, already make Vander look dead, but you wouldn't let that happen.

You concentrate on Silco's silhouette and think about your tactics and your chances.

He wouldn't even notice me if I was fast. Singed would react too slowly, I'm sure of it. I could simply strengthen both my arms with magic and break his neck...

He deserves it.

It was a dark thought, but you had changed since then. The little boy who wouldn't even hurt a fly was already gone, now everything was filled with cold logic and feelings that were too much for you.

He deserved it, you echo in your head. Your look at Vander brought back the memories you were trying so desperately to forget. The reaction was anger, after all, he is also responsible for Vander's death, and much more.

What is he doing here anyway? And what is he discussing with Singed?

"You said he would survive..." Silco puts his hand down, turns to Singed and fills the silence with a scowl. He puts the hand that was on the container in front of his chest and squeezes it into a fist. "How strong do you think he is compared to the other monsters?"

Your heart stops for a moment, the unexpected clarity of his words pulls you out of your composure. Your hands tremble and unconsciously form into fists, your knuckles snow-white with tension.

Your magic flows through your body and with all your might you force yourself to control it, to hide it - but it becomes more difficult the more your desire for revenge flares up inside you. You know that if you give in, everything here will go up in flames and they will feel you through your magic.

Singed finally breaks the silence, his voice calm, almost casual, but with a hint of caution. "He is unstable. More dangerous than the others because he has more control over himself. But that's what makes him unpredictable. He understands what he is - and what he can do."

Silco nods slowly, a sharp spark of curiosity in his gaze that briefly displaces the icy determination. "Interesting..." he murmurs, his voice low and thoughtful.

But then his gaze briefly falls on you.

You've never moved so quickly before, after all, your body reacted completely automatically. For a moment, you forgot your anger and hid as quickly as you could. Your body is hidden behind a corner, your breathing as shallow as possible, but something about his posture makes you think he's noticed you.

A slight tremor runs through your muscles. You're sure your magic is making itself felt - like a touch of electricity lifting the air around you. You can barely hold back the words that rise up inside you, a silent cry of retribution, but you know that one false step could ruin everything.

Dammit! Did he see me?

"And if he escapes our control?" Silco suddenly asks, his tone sharper as he steps closer to Singed.

"Then," Singed replies with a small, imperturbable smile, "we have to kill him before he can kill us."

These words pierce you like a cold dagger. Your grip tightens around the corner, your nails scrape against the wall. Your magic screams inside you, begging to be unleashed. But you force yourself to calm down. Not yet. Not yet.

Letters form on your right arm, literally carving themselves into your skin again, but you don't notice. The situation in the room in front of you gets all your attention.

Your gaze falls for a brief moment, incredibly brief, on your steel ball. It's just lying there next to your bedside cabinet, so close that you could just grab it. Take it, fill it with a little magic, which is converted into rotation anyway, and simply throw it.

"We'll be fighting together again soon Vander..." For a moment he turns away from Singed again, glances at Vander and then looks around. All the experiments seem to catch his eye, while his mind seems to be somewhere else entirely.

You calm your breathing, concentrate on the conversation and make a decision:

That's it now. Singed just used me to pass Vander on to Silco in the end. I'll never forgive you for that, you bastard.

But what are you doing? You were dependent on Singed. You can't just go out into the wide world without any solid facts. Where would you go? You can't go back to your real family, after so many years you wouldn't be able to go back mentally.

So, what now? You want to disappear, but completely alone? You, absolutely alone in this dark and disturbing world?

Normally you would turn to Vander now, ask him for answers... And he would be able to provide you with some. But he wasn't far away from you, about ten meters in front of you, in a large glass container that was barely keeping him alive.

I did this. I Killed Vander.

Your magical aura disappears completely. You don't tremble, not a single movement follows from your body as a result of your thoughts, which are tearing you apart from the inside.

He wouldn't have died if I hadn't been there.

Your chest tightens as the memory resurfaces, raw and vivid, like an open wound that refuses to heal.

Vander is gone...?

The realization twists in your gut, sharp and relentless. The anchor of your world, the man who kept you steady - ripped away in a moment of chaos.

NO!!!

The scream reverberates in your head, a desperate attempt to push the truth away. But it clings to you, heavy and suffocating.

Silco killed him. Not me!

Your fists clench, your nails digging into your palms as you try to find someone, anyone, to hold responsible. Silco's face flashes before you, his cold, calculating smirk, the embodiment of everything you want to destroy.

I had to follow him.

You try to rationalize, to make sense of the senseless.

I should've known better.

Your stomach churns. The guilt, a familiar poison, takes hold.

I didn't do it!

Your inner voice cracks, a futile defense against the crushing weight of your conscience.

It was me. I knew it.

The admission is a whisper, barely audible over the roaring in your ears.

NO!!!

The floor beneath you seems to shake as you fall to your knees. The world around you blurs, the walls of the room seem to stretch and warp as the exhaustion and emotional strain wash over you. A fine film of tears breaks free and runs down your cheeks, but you no longer feel the pain - only the emptiness.

The magic that burned so vividly inside you just moments ago has vanished, as if someone had turned off the power. Your body suddenly feels heavy, like an empty shell, and your hands, which were just ready to turn into a weapon, are now shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes, once sparkling with anger and defiance, lose their light, becoming dull and empty.

The room seems to stand still for a moment, as if the world itself is pausing to watch you collapse. There are no words, no thoughts, just the paralyzing silence that settles around you. Your aura, which was once the only layer of protection, is now gone - the strength you defended for so long is nothing more than a fading shadow. The coldness growing inside you is stronger than any other sensation you have ever known.

Somebody help me.

The cry comes unbidden. Tears streak your face, hot and uncontrollable, as you clutch at the emptiness in front of you.

Someone help Vander.

The words are a plea, a wish that time could reverse, that some miracle could undo the unthinkable.

Someone...please help Vander.

But the silence answers you, merciless and final.

No...he's beyond help.

The truth crushes you, leaving you hollow. The weight of your failure presses down until you can barely breathe. All that remains is the sound of your broken sobs, lost in a void that feels endless.

You hear a voice from outside "But fire without control..." He pauses, his eyes narrow dangerously and his voice becomes dangerously calm. "...always ends in ashes."

You have to disappear. The decision doesn't hit you like a bolt of lightning, but slowly seeps into your consciousness, a painful but irrevocable conclusion. A true scientist follows logic - and logic screams in your face that you can't stay here any longer.

Your eyes fall on the bedside table where your most important belongings are. Your hands are shaking, but you are already moving in your thoughts, collecting, sorting, planning. Inside, you are on your knees, crushed by the weight of what has happened, but your body is functioning mechanically.

My Steel Balls, you think, a touch of pragmatism in the midst of chaos. The two spellbooks, clothes... and preferably something to eat.

You don't wait another second. You stand up on shaky legs, your hands wiping the tears from your face. There is no time for weakness, no time for doubt. The plan doesn't form in your head, it simply exists, clear and unavoidable: you have to leave.

You reach for the bag lying in the corner and start throwing your things into it. Your steel balls land clattering on the bottom of the bag, followed by the spellbooks you absentmindedly grab from your bedside table. Your mind is still blank, like a machine that is only tuned to function. There is no hesitation, no pondering - just movement.

You hurry through your small room, lifting clothes from the chair and stuffing them carelessly into your bag. Your hands are still shaking, but you force them to calm down, your breathing short and intermittent. The thought of food crosses your mind and you throw in a few rationed supplies, bread and some dried meat, without a second thought.

Waiting. Waiting until Silco has disappeared. Waiting until Singed is back in his room.

Your heart pounds like a drumbeat in your chest, every breath heavy and tense. You walk to the door, peering through the small gap to keep an eye on the lab outside. It's a wait that feels like an eternity, but you know it's necessary.

Then I'll disappear, you think, and the thought gives you a strange sense of calm. No plan B, no doubts. Just the first step - out of here. You take a deep breath and prepare yourself inwardly for the moment.

Your eyes linger on the bag and the comparison with the Haul from back then hits you like a blow. It was the moment when it all began - the chaos, the losses, the suffering. But you force yourself to push this thought aside, to ignore it as best you can.

Am I really doing this now?

A quiet doubt settles in and for a moment you stop moving mechanically. Your mind switches on, your feelings are left out. You force yourself to think soberly, even if reality almost overwhelms you.

If I disappear now, I have absolutely nothing.

The thought weighs heavy, pulls you down. You no longer have a family. Your friends? The few you had are long gone or... worse. And Singed? A teacher, yes, but one who overstepped boundaries and shamelessly exploited you to weaponize Vander.

I have to survive alone in the world.

The image of you alone in the streets of Piltover and Zaun spreads through your mind. The cold, the hunger, the constant danger.

What should I do anyway?

The question remains unanswered while your mind feverishly searches for possibilities.

How am I supposed to get out of Piltover? And where to?

The city seems like a huge fortress, and the world outside is no less threatening. Your steps falter and your grip on the bag tightens. The panic tries to find its way back into your head, but you force yourself to stay still, to think.

A plan. You need a plan. But the clock is ticking, and the walls of this small room feel like they're going to constrict you at any moment.

I have to find the other corpse parts.

The thought hits you like a thunderclap, and for a moment everything around you stops. Your breath catches and your heart races as you stare at the bag containing Jayce Talis' notebook. The pages you had only half-heartedly flicked through before now start to make sense.

He's looking for them too...

A spark of hope, no, a plan begins to form in your head. If you follow this path, if you find the Corpse Parts, if you develop your magic - then everything will be different. No problem would be too big, no threat insurmountable.

I don't care what I have to do for it. I'll get those corpse parts. Whatever it takes... I will do it.

Your eyes lose their light again, an expression of complete devotion and determination takes over your face. You stop in the middle of the room, your breathing heavy, your mind filled with a dark determination that also frightens you.

But deep inside you feel that the burden is tearing you apart. The memories of everything you've lost, the feeling of betrayal by Singed - it's too much. You are still a child, at least a part of you. And yet life forces you to act like an adult, to make decisions that could break even a veteran.

Your head lowers, your hands clench into fists. The world may bring you to your knees, but a promise is growing inside you. An oath to yourself:

I will find them. And no one, not even myself, will stop me.

As soon as the apartment sinks into silence, you seize the moment. With your bag over your shoulder, you sneak through the lab, your steps as quiet as possible. Your gaze sweeps over the countless experiments set up here, each apparatus a testament to Singed's sick genius. You grab a few chemicals that seem useful and carefully put them in your bag. To be on the safe side, you tell yourself, even if you don't know exactly what for.

But just before you reach the door, you stand rooted to the spot. The huge glass container rises up in front of you, its cold glow illuminating the dark laboratory. Your gaze wanders upwards to where Vander is floating in the liquid. His body is still, motionless, and yet you can see the traces of life that are still inside him.

"I'm sorry, Vander," you whisper, your voice barely audible but heavy with guilt. You feel the lump in your throat, the tears threatening to burst out again.

"If I were stronger... I could take you with me."

Your gaze lowers, your hands tremble slightly, but then you force yourself to look at him again. It's a promise that germinates inside you, a spark that gives you stability in all the chaos.

"But I will come back."

The words echo in your head, an oath to the man who once saved your life, to the rock that protected you. Then you turn around, your heart heavy, but your steps determined.

There is no turning back.

Like a bitter joke from the heavens, the rain starts as soon as you pull the door shut behind you. The drops patter softly but steadily, like a gentle tapping on the surface of the world, as you leave home behind you - or what's left of it.

The cold rain washes the warmth of the past from you, layer by layer. It soaks your hair, cools your skin, but inside the emptiness burns. Every step feels like a farewell, not just to the place, but to the part of you that once existed here.

You throw on your black coat, the fabric of which lies heavily on your shoulders - like a second skin that protects you and yet bears everything you are. You fill the pockets with calm, almost mechanical movements. The notebook slides in, its edges rough, full of secrets. Next to it, the two Steel balls find their place, cold and familiar in your hands, before disappearing.

Then you pause. A moment of silence in which you take a deep breath. Your determination feels like a fire that burns quietly inside you, unstoppable. You adjust your coat, pull on the hood and get ready.

There is no more hesitation. Only the path before you.

The streets of Piltover are quiet at night, almost eerie. The rain has made the cobblestones shiny and dark, the shimmering light of the lanterns dances in the puddles. Your footsteps echo softly, but it's loud in your head - deafening.

How could this happen? The thought nails itself into your mind, repeating itself over and over again. You had a plan. A place where you belonged. But all of it was wiped out in an instant. Singed's betrayal, Silco's plans, Vander's condition - it was too much.

I should have been stronger. The words are like a mantra that tears at your heart. Your will, which you thought was indestructible, has been broken with an ease that terrifies you. Everything you thought you were now feels like a lie.

The memories come in waves. Vander's smile. Singed's experiment. Silco's voice. Everything mixes together, a chaos that almost makes you stagger. Your steps become heavier, your breathing shallower.

Maybe I'm not strong enough. Maybe I never will be...

But then - another thought. An image forms in your mind's eye. The corpse parts. The possibility they hold. You remember the notebook in your pocket, the drawings, the descriptions. When you find them, when you unite them... then everything could be different.

You stand still, the rain pelting down on you, but you barely feel it. Your hands clench into fists, the cold night air bites into your skin, but a fire flares up inside you.

No matter what it costs. No matter what I have to sacrifice. I will find her. And I will never have to think like this again.

With this thought, you continue on your way. The night may swallow you up, but your gaze is now only directed forward.

Wait for me, Piltover. I'll be back soon.

But not as Y/N.

But as the Sorcerer's Apprentice.

When will you see everyone again?

Oh, sooner than you think.

A thin, bitter smirk flits across your lips as you form the words in your head. They reverberate through your mind like an echo, unstoppable, insistent. You imagine their faces - Silco, Singed, Vi, maybe even... Powder? But this time you will not return as someone weak, not as someone they can break.

Your grip on the bag tightens and your footsteps echo through the empty streets, accompanied by the gentle rhythm of the rain. The night will swallow you up, but you know - you will return, smarter, stronger, more dangerous, ready.

Soon enough.

Notes:

And that was it again with the new home. But what should you have done, Singed was just using you and you fell for it. But now with the beginning of the search for the Corpse Partsm the development of your magic and everything else will be even more exciting. The next of my stories to get an update is I think the Hold on story, or Rat, honestly, no plan. Thanks for reading, please comment how you liked it and leave kudos!

[lucy90712]

Road to recovery- part 8

Masterlist

Part of me was hoping that the hate would slow down a bit but of course it didn't. Every time I checked any form of social media all I saw was people posting about how much they didn't like me and assuming that I'm only friends with Pablo to gain something. I thought I'd be able to handle the comments but I just can't there has been so many more than I thought there would be and people have said such hurtful things about my appearance and my character. Pablo keeps apologising and asking if I'm ok and I just keep telling him I'm fine which is a bit of a lie but I can tell he already feels bad enough I don't want to make him feel worse by telling him how I really feel. The worst part about it is that everyone seems to be drawing attention to the things I was already insecure about which hasn't helped my mental state at all.

Today though I have a chance to cheer myself up a bit as I have a big check up with my doctor to see how my recovery is progressing. I think it's going pretty good so hopefully he agrees and says something positive as that would really lift my spirits. I've been nervous about the appointment today as well which has really made the last few days even more challenging on my mental health but I'm trying to stay positive as I know wallowing in sadness and anxiety won't do me any good. 

Alonso came to pick me up a bit before my appointment; when I got in the car I expected him to tease me about everything that happened with the game this weekend but he didn't instead he asked if I was ok. I was going to lie to him too but because he's my brother he knows exactly when I'm lying so I had to tell him the truth. It was kind of nice to get all of my feelings off my chest and Alonso was really supportive and gave me some good advice. He's been through things like this before with getting hate for his performances out on track so he told me to just delete the apps off my phone for a bit that way I'm not tempted to look at what people are saying. In fact he stole my phone and did it for me as I think he knew I probably wouldn't do it myself. 

Once I had my phone back I went into the hospital on my own leaving Alonso to wait in the car for me. The wait for my appointment wasn't long at all and then I went in and was immediately taken for some new scans to see how everything was healing. After scans I was subjected to a load of tests on my range of movement, how much weight I could put on my leg and how much pain I was in. The testing was rigorous and honestly quite exhausting as it's been a long time since I've done this much movement with my knee but for the most part it felt good. After I had done everything the doctor left for a while to review it all and look at my scans which left me just staring at the wall hoping to hear good news. Just as I was daydreaming the door opened again and the doctor came back in, his expression was impossible to read which for some reason filled me with a few more nerves.

"Ok Lola things aren't progressing as we would like them too internally you aren't healing as quick as we thought you would and your movement isn't at the range we would expect it to be" he said 

"What does that mean?" I asked holding back tears 

"For now it doesn't mean too much this can happen as we can't always accurately predict how quickly people will recover but we will set another one of these appointments in a few weeks and if we aren't seeing improvement you may need a second surgery so that we can see what's going on" the doctor explained 

"Ok" was all I could manage to say 

"I know this isn't what you wanted to hear but don't let it discourage you if you keep working hard you won't need the surgery" he said 

We scheduled my next appointment and that was as long as I could hold it together. All of my emotions that I'd been holding onto for the last few days came out all at once, as soon as I left the hospital doors I burst into tears and I couldn't do anything to stop them. I made my way back to where Alonso parked but before I could get into the car Alonso had got out and wrapped me in his arms. He tried to get me to stop crying and tell him what was wrong but I just couldn't he tried everything to help me all of which had worked before but today nothing could stop me. Eventually he gave up and let me get in the car so we could go home because right now all I want is to just go home and get to grips with my emotions as I clearly have a lot to process. 

As much as my eyes were filled with tears I could tell that Alonso didn't take the turn to take me back to my place which meant he was going to take me somewhere in hopes of cheering me up. I really didn't want to go wherever it was he was planning to go but I was sobbing too much to tell him to take me home. We went a bit further before the car stopped and I looked round a bit as at first I didn't recognise where we were but then I saw Pablo's house and realised we were just down the street. I should've known Alonso was going to bring me here but this is the last place I want to be I don't want Pablo to see me like this. I knew we said we would help each other out but I know for a fact Pablo is doing better and I know he's in a better place mentally and I don't want to ruin that by projecting my problems onto him that wouldn't be fair. 

Alonso had to practically drag me out of the car and down the road which was rather easy for him as I'm not strong enough to put up too much of a fight. We walked down the street to Pablo's house where Alonso left me to ring the doorbell, part of me was hoping that he wouldn't be in even though he said he had no plans today. Of course after just a few seconds the door opened and I locked eyes with Pablo who straight away rushed over as quick as he could and wrapped me up in his arms. I wanted to stop crying but for some reason I only cried more once I was in Pablo's arms it was like he made me feel safe enough to truly let all of my feelings out. Pablo said a few words to my brother before taking me inside and allowing him to leave. 

Pablo took me to the sofa and allowed me to settle into his embrace with my head buried in his chest so he couldn't see my tear stained and probably red and puffy face. His hand was gently stroking my back trying to calm me down while he whispered comforting words in my ears. It wasn't anything special what he was doing but hearing his words and feeling his hands on me did wonders in helping calm my emotions which I didn't have any control over. As my tears began to slow down Pablo kept rubbing my back and he even wiped some of the tears from my face that he could reach as I was still hiding most of my face. I never would've thought he would be so good at comforting me I mean he's always so hyper and full of energy I never imagined that he'd be any good at keeping calm and radiating that onto others but clearly he is. Once I had completely stopped crying and my breathing was getting back to normal Pablo put a hand under my chin and got me to look at him.

"Can you tell me what's wrong I hate seeing you so upset and I want to help" he said 

"The doctor said my knee isn't healing properly and I might need another surgery if things don't get better" I said still sniffling slightly 

"I'm sorry that sounds awful but that's not the only thing on your mind is it" he probed further 

"No that's it" I lied 

"Don't lie to me please just tell me what's wrong I'll do whatever I can to help and I won't judge you you know that" he said 

Damn why doesn't he have to be able to read me like a book.

"Ok I've been getting a lot of hate since we were seen together at the game and it's been getting to me a bit I thought I could handle it as I'm used to criticism but I can't some people are just so mean" I admitted letting a few more tears fall 

"I knew it was getting to you people on social media are assholes because they don't feel the consequences of what they say but none of what they say is true" he said 

"But they keep talking about how I must be using you or how I don't deserve to even be friends with you which that part is kind of true" I rambled 

"No it's not true I can't even imagine what my life would be like without you I love spending time with you just because you aren't famous doesn't mean you don't deserve to be friends with me and despite what they say I know you aren't using me I know you would never do that" he said 

"And before you say anything all of the things they say about your appearance aren't true either you are beautiful inside and out and they are just jealous" he added 

Hearing him say that put a smile on my face. Pablo has never really complimented me before he's told me my outfit was cool a few times but he's never called me beautiful so hearing it made me feel a lot better about myself. He must've noticed that I was finally smiling again as he told me I looked pretty when I smiled which only made my cheeks heat up but luckily my face was already red from crying so Pablo probably wouldn't have noticed. Although I kind of wish he knew how he made me feel because as time goes on it's getting harder and harder to hide my true feelings from him. 

Pablo's POV

The pain in her eyes just shattered my heart. She's been my rock throughout every step of the way so far so to see her breakdown right in front of me really hurt. This whole time she's been the strong one never letting anything get to her but finally it's caught up with her and part of it's my fault because we got seen together at the game and now people are tearing her apart and one person can only handle so much. I feel so awful that I'm part of the reason she's so upset but knowing that I can be there for her and calm her down makes me feel a bit better. When she arrived she was hysterical and her brother told me he couldn't get a word out of her so he wanted me to try so that's what I did. I'm not very good at keeping myself calm at times let alone other people but I tried my best and after a while of just rubbing her back and whispering to her she calmed down. It felt good to be the one to help her because she's done so much for me that anything I can do to even remotely repay that I'll do in a heartbeat.

Hearing the way she criticised herself as well it pained me. She's the most beautiful and kind person I've ever met so to hear her say that she thought she didn't deserve to be friends with me hurt but what hurt more was to see that those horrible people got to her and made her feel insecure in herself. Throughout the time we've known each other I've always wanted to tell her just how beautiful she is but I've refrained as I know once I open the flood gates there's no going back. Once I start complimenting her I'm scared that I'll let my feelings show but today she needed it so I knew I had to take the risk. Seeing the smile that my compliments gave her made the risk feel worth it though as I'd do anything to keep her smiling 24/7.

Looking into her eyes as she smiled and blushed at my words made me feel some type of way. I've felt something for her since we first met and I've kept those feelings repressed until now but I don't know if I can do it any longer. She's just the most perfect girl I've ever met and I don't want to lose her whether that be to another guy or to the fear of what us being friends might mean for her. I have to tell her how I feel in hopes that as long as she feels the same way it gives her a reason to stick around even when things are tough like they are right now. As scary as it is I have to take the risk. 

[yakuzabrainrotlive]

Once again taking it very slow with IW, I want to savour the game properly. And also I want to kinda draw this out because I'm so used to having one of these games in-progress at all times.

Can we. Can we PLEASE not call it that 😭😭

Scariest shit I've seen in a video game. Absolutely terrible. Thanks, I hate it!

Can I be real. I ADORE Tomizawa. I need him to live through this game. Please. I can't bear the thought of him dying. He's seriously a TOP 5 character contender for me! The most relatable guy in the series fr.

Loving how the game isn't afraid to address problems within the legal system! I don't know the ins and outs of the US police, but I do know the system is less than savoury.

I wonder how accurate all the political stuff about the US-Hawaii relations is. If anyone knows, let me know! I'm very interested about how much or how little of what's portrayed in the game is made up or if it's all very exaggerated.

What's with these protags and approaching gun-wielding people?? I mean, sure; Kiryu did survive 3 whole bullets in Y6 on top of getting bashed on the head with a metal pipe dozens of time by a buff dude. But, babygirls, even you're not making it if the bullet ends up between your eyes or in your heart! I'd say please value your own lives more, but that's an impossible challenge for Kiryu and Ichiban, it seems. Thankfully they're both absolute tanks with minds of steel.

Like I said; absolutely no self-preservation. Sheesh, Ichiban; you could at least pretend to be a little bit shaken up😭 you're unsettling best boy Tomizawa!! And me, kinda.

These two... Why are they actually the goofiest pair of characters ever. They might actually surpass Majima and Nishida in terms of silliness in my books. Absolute dorks, the both of them.

I'm really liking how genuine and open Kiryu is with Ichiban. He's not trying to keep up the tough guy act NEARLY as much. It's interesting to see the... maybe not mask, but the kind of a pretense he often has going on, dropping. Maybe it's his age, or he just trusts Ichiban that much. Or maybe it's the better environment. Maybe a little bit of everything.

My poor man... you're gonna have to get used to this stuff if you don't wanna die of a heart attack or stroke within the next 48 hours. God, I love Normal Characters interacting with Ichiban and/or Kiryu and being totally flabbergasted because

a) how is this man alive?

b) how can anyone be this good and self-sacrificing? AND LIVE?

c) how is anyone this calm and collected after almost dying in multiple horriffic ways within the time span of a few hours?

[floweyheadcanons]

Some more headcannons and questions coming up! Clover can't dance for the life of them, so Flowey helped them by moving their feet to the right bars on El Baildor's fight. Clover felt indebted to him for doing that, but Flowey just told them it was painful to watch them fail over and over and over again. Flash forward to the Omega Flowey fight, Clover is the last to rebel because they still feel indebted to him. They don't want to leave their best friend alone. They realize that what Flowey is doing isn't justified, but a small part of Flowey, that Clover can feel, is feeling like this is justified, for Chara, for Clover...When Frisk wins, Flowey sees a figure behind Frisk, holding out a hand. He sees Clover with a genuine smile, wanting him to join them with doing justice. But Clover isn't there. Flowey understands and tries to tell Frisk and, by extention, Ghost/Hallucination Clover, that he can't. He doesn't understand why they show care to him after all that. He doesn't understand... Flowey has talked to Papyrus about Clover. He likes to see his reactions to their adventures and everything. Seeing someone adore this child while never knowing them makes him seen like the care he had for them wasn't him being weak, but Clover having that ability on monsters. Flowey like card games. He also likes chess, but card games are his favorite. He's good at them, that's way.

Now here is some for the Gusty Gaggle and Feisty Five, well, one of the Feisty Five at least. So the Gusty Gaggle are all actors in the Ghosty South. I mean, like everyone is am actor there. Flowey plays the role of the murderous Flower monster that is part of a gang, and is the brains, with a human and another monster. Clover plays the leader, and human. Kanako plays the happy monster with a bit of scare to her. They basically play themselves, in the Gusty Gaggle. They are actors but not. Also, Mooch and Flowey are friends. Theif and murderous flower bring friends just makes me happy. Mooch is also Flowey's favorite Festiy 4 member.

Now some questions! Who does Flowey hate more, Ceroba or Alphys, and why? Has Flowey ever became friends with Sans in past resets? Does Flowey feel a sense of belonging with the amagates? Has Dalv ever realized he didn't draw the draws Flowey drew? What's his relationship with Decibat and El Bailador? Who is Flowey's favorite Festiy Four person? Out of Starlo, Axis, Martlet, and Chujin, who does Flowey like and hate the most? What kind of games does Flowey like and dislike? Did Flowey ever watch Chujin, and, by extent, The Wild East and Kestukane's before Clover fell? If so, did he judge Chujin for being an idiot? Why does he feel the need to keep his throwing skills up? And, where would Flowey stay most of the time on the surface? Frisk's town or The Ghosty South?

(AAAA- I LOVE HIM!!! HIM AND ENDOGENY IS SO CUTE!!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!! Also, him to Kanako being like, "Hey! Welcome to the children revived club! Don't tell your mother we are here okay? I hate her!" is so funny to me. HE'S SUCH A LITTLE GUY!!!)

those ideas up there are PEAK?! try not to cook challenge (impossible)

i honestly think the idea of the gusty gaggle both acting and not acting at the same time is really cool, it's more like they overblow their personalities, i really like that.

this is the funny headcanon blog so it's time for the questions now!!

1 .Who does Flowey hate more, Ceroba or Alphys, and why?

Flowey hates Ceroba more because at least Alphys changed. And even before that she pretty clearly was tortured by what she'd done, while I don't think it'd be as obvious to Flowey that Ceroba was suffering too. Does not help that Ceroba has also tried to kill Clover.

2. Has Flowey ever became friends with Sans in past resets?

I'm awfully fond of the idea that at one point or another Sans had some sort of big brother-ish relationship with Flowey because he just has that effect on people™ and would rather not fight this nerd, so yeah! I'd actually be surprised if at no point were they on good terms.

3. Does Flowey feel a sense of belonging with the amagates?

Yeah, it makes him feel better to know he's not the only little freak out there... Not the only experiment gone horribly wrong.

4. Has Dalv ever realized he didn't draw the drawings Flowey drew?

He's probably realized a few weren't his because they were a little too bad. Don't blame Flowey ok?? He hasn't had proper hands for a comical amount of time. I think in secret he'd redraw those because they're usually fire ideas, just bad illustration-wise.

5. What's his relationship with Decibat and El Bailador?

Flowey is a little hater, so I think he'd be a big El Bailador anti... Probably follows the guy around with a comical amount of signs that say things like "CANCEL THIS DANCE MANIAC!!!" "THIS BUFFOON MUST BE STOPPED!!!" that all point in his direction but when Baily turns around to look at them they're gone. Decibat, on the other hand gets a pass. I think Flowey would like sleep in Deci's cave because it's nice and quiet... Probably sneaks in Echo Flowers sometimes because he thinks it's funny™.

6. Who is Flowey's favorite Feisty Four member?

I'm indecisive on this one, but it'd probably be Mooch because he can't help but respect a devious little thief. I think in a couple saves he'd probably help her with her little heists!

7. Out of Starlo, Axis, Martlet, and Chujin, who does Flowey like and hate the most?

Chujin: Mostly considers the man a joke, wouldn't say he hates Chujin.

Axis: Bro is on thin ice. Flowey is always very close to destroying that bucket of bolts and considers him very irritating to be around and a needless nuisance.

Starlo: Finds the guy somewhat annoying, but also interesting. Mostly upset with him for attacking Clover and for being so easily excited into doing stupid things. Would probably like him more if he wasn't an idiot.

Martlet: Wants to pluck every feather off her one by one, and hear her scream. Why does she keep INTERVENING??? She's part of that stupid guard, she wants Clover dead, she doesn't get to decide they're important to her. Her existence fills him with rage.

Of them all, I think he hates Martlet the most for trying to steal Clover away, and likes Starlo the most because he IS just a little goober.

8. What kind of games does Flowey like and dislike?

I think he'd like things like puzzle games (they make him feel big brained), RPGs, and first person shooters and shoot em up games (especially if they're combined. he likes feeling tough.)

9. Did Flowey ever watch Chujin, and, by extent, The Wild East and Kestukane's before Clover fell? If so, did he judge Chujin for being an idiot?

He probably judged Chujin very heavily for being an idiot. I think for the most part he probably watched Chujin the most out of the other Ketsukanes (with Ceroba probably being the one he watched the least) because he finds his stupidity very entertaining.

9. Why does he feel the need to keep his throwing skills up?

It's a worry of his because what if he needs to throw something far for one reason or another but he can't? And what if that thing is something so important that it CAN'T just be forgotten about??

10. Where would Flowey stay most of the time on the surface? Frisk's town or The Ghosty South?

He'd probably visit Frisk's town every now and again but I think he'd prefer The Ghosty South as he'd probably feel more at home and able to be his truest self there. Frisk's town is probably just boring to him as well.

[chiangyorange]

You ever think about how Isles added a. Checks notes. Goddess of flow. Because I think about that.

thank fuck isles canonically is not a real realm that exists

nah but fr tho i DO actually have quite a few thoughts on how isles fits in to the overall narrative of mianite being such a strange offshoot compared to s1 and s2 read more if u want, i will say that its gonna get rambly and also im going to drop a few of my design notes about the isles gods specifically if that interests you

i have been piecing together lore via friends and the mianite wiki (which is a fucking dumpster fire for anyone that's trying to look for a specifics in lore but i digress) so not everything people may care about will feature in here (like the whole light/dark thing. gandus, she shadows, w/e im just focusing on the overall story. sorry but there is only so much i can handle atm) i DO actually think that isles is really interesting despite my initial dislike for it towards the end (yes yes ik but i can admit that i was a little. too indulgent of myself at the time) ANYWAY i think isles was some sort of like... fucked up puzzle box reality???? of the s1 world because there are just SO many references to s1 like ianites heart being stolen and dianite slowly becoming more demon-like and all those theories way back when of isles really being s-1 like its a prequel of s1 world which i think its semi true?? basically my thoughts are; isles is an offshoot mimic world intended to emulate the life of the s1 gods in their youth for whatever reason, and in their timeloop is trying to create a trap? a new world? essentially perfect the mannerisms and legitimacy of a real realm like the realm of mianite and the realm of ruxomar. why tom n jordan got pulled into it interrupting the timeloop for a moment, who knows. (also in reflection? thats so fucked up and rude to karl like king is trapped in a timeloop for no goddamn reason) the 4th god is weird tho and i hated every minute of it stop trying to make trio into 4 challenge (impossible, apparently) i choose to believe that the 4th god thing only happened because of fucked up timeloop interruption consequence ONTO MY DESIGN NOTES

so. you probably noticed that their hands have visible joints like a doll or a marionette puppet. that is entirely intentional bc i legit think the isles gods are not real and instead constructs made with to have god-like powers. (shameless plug to the og post here if you wanna see every design ive made of the gods layed out all at once)

each design is supposed to be just a little uncanny like with all of them having pupils compared to the s1 and s2 gods who i draw them without. their smiles are a little too wide to match with their eyes. the green and red of ianite and dianite's eyes are a little too bright and noxious. overall i really wanted them to look as unsettling as possible if you imagine them limp and slumped over like a broken doll and theyre all dressed in something that is a little too perfect you know? like mianite looks like a friend you meet in the town square, ianite looks like a damsel princess, dianite is a handsome prince, like theyre all dressed a little too royal from a classic fairytale-- theyre too good to be true.

augh i think i have more to say but theres already so much in this one post that ill save it for another time

[coffee-n-some-cream]

Here's a little Rasey meet cute snippet from a bigger project I'm working on. The story isn't Raph/Casey centric and I wasn't sure I was even gonna put the ship in, but apparently I can't help myself!

Casey Jones was on the hunt. Shrouded in a dark hood and menacing mask, he lurked in the shadows, watching over his city from the rooftops and striking fear into the hearts of friends and foe alike.

The lead of the pencil Casey was sketching with broke at the tip, and he sighed as he pushed more out. One sneaker-clad foot hung down, tapping a rhythm against the fire escape. His earbuds hung in a loop around his neck and pushed out music as loud as they could, the sound tinny and crunchy. His mask was pushed up onto the top of his head, and he stuck his tongue out as he concentrated on the drawing, filling in his hoodie with hatching. His own dark form crouched on the page, intense gaze peering out from his skull-like mask. He hummed, lightly sketched out a cape flowing dramatically from his back, then frowned and erased it. Nah, that looked stupid.

He glanced up to check the surrounding alleyways and streets for any nefarious criminals.

From the highest point, he could survey all of Brooklyn. He was an all-seeing watchdog, ready to sink his teeth into the neck of any foolish trespasser.

A breeze tousled his messy hair. He watched an empty plastic bag dance down an alley, listened to the rustle of a cat digging through the trash. Nothing. He sighed. Another dead night. Maybe he needed to take his act to another part of the city?

Movement along the rooftops caught his eye. He squinted and leaned forward, peering at the shadowy figure that was sprinting across roofs and hopping alleyway gaps with a speed and grace that was, frankly, unfair. Was that…? Casey shoved his hand in his backpack and frantically fished out his binoculars, wanting to get a good look at the person before they ran out of sight. But lucky for him, as he raised them to his eyes, the person paused on one of the rooftops and didn’t move.

A burly build, green skin, red bandana hanging around his shoulders. “Hello again,” Casey muttered to himself, zooming the binoculars in to get a better look at him. He was slumped over the edge of the rooftop, resting his arms on the ledge and letting his head hang down.

An old challenger returns.

Casey threw his things into his backpack, pulled his mask down over his face, and scrambled up. The clanging of the fire escape followed him as he made for the turtle mutant.

The night air was cool and felt good against the warmth of his skin. Raph took deep breaths, trying to let it soak into him, to temper the burning that was starting to choke him from the inside out, but it didn’t help any.

His brothers' eyes flashed through his mind. Worried, gentle, caring, unsure. Unsure what to say to him, what to do with him, but always trying to be understanding. They were everything but what they should be, which was angry. Resentful. They should even hate him a little bit. He knew they wouldn't. Couldn't. But they should.

He dug his fingernails into his arm, willing the skin to break and bleed. It didn't, of course. It held firm like soft leather. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, the lump in his throat unbearable.

“Fuck,” he muttered, before taking one more deep breath and forcing himself to relax. His face, his throat, his back, his chest, his hands, all loosened the impossible tension he held them under. And slowly, his chin trembled, his lips pulled back, his throat pushed, and a sob fell out of his mouth.

He ducked his head down. It didn’t matter that he was entirely alone. His hands went over his face as another sob tore through him and tears started to pool in his palms. His breathing was haggard and quick no matter how he tried to deepen it, and his shoulders heaved. He let it go, knowing that the tears and the snot and the cries were the only way to loosen the knot in his chest, to quell the burning in his throat.

A shuffling of feet sounded to his left. He whipped his head up, jumping back and reaching one hand for the sai at his side.

“Woah there.” Hands up in surrender, the guy came to a halt. Hockey mask over his face, golf bag of old sports equipment on his back… it was the guy from the park. Casey Jones. Fucking Christ. “I come in peace.”

Raph eyed him up and down, taking in the relaxed stance and unassuming gaze. He let his hand fall from his sai and turned so he was staring over the ledge again, very aware of how he must look. Great. This total asshole of a stranger had caught him alone on a rooftop, bawling his eyes out. It made his hackles rise, and he opened his mouth to tell the guy to fuck off.

A little hiccup came out instead, and with that, he lost every ounce of energy he had to be upset. Instead of saying anything, he just gave the guy a watery glare.

Seeing that Raph wasn’t about to attack him, Casey moved a bit closer and leaned one hand casually against the ledge, propping the other one on his hip. He gave Raph a lidded look. “We meet again.”

Raph cocked a brow at him. “Uh-huh. What do you want?”

Casey shrugged. “Well, I was gonna challenge you to a duel, but seeing as you’re in the middle of crying, I’m gonna assume you’re not in the headspace for it.”

“I’m not in the middle of crying,” Raph lied, unsure why he was even trying.

“You very clearly are crying.”

“Also, a duel? Really? What, are we gonna turn our backs? Take ten paces?” He laughed a little at the ridiculous image. “Draw pistols?”

Raph couldn’t see it behind the mask, but Casey smiled at him. The turtle mutant looked so different without the mask over his eyes, face open and bare. He was an absolute mess. His face was covered in tears and snot, his eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks were flushed, he looked miserable. His glare was still biting, his watery laugh was still deep and full. Something about it all tugged at Casey’s chest. 

“Okay, fine, wise guy.” He stepped closer so he was right next to the mutant, put his back against the ledge, and tipped the mask back so it was on top of his head. “What do you wanna call it?”

“A fight.” The turtle wiped some of the snot off his face with the back of his hand, then turned his head to look at Casey full-on. “It’s just a fight.”

Casey sat under the heavy stare of both amber eyes for a moment. Then he rolled his eyes. “Pssshhh. Boring! Duel sounds way cooler. I don’t care if we have to break out the pistols, we’re gonna duel.”

The turtle shook his head, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah but in a cute way, right?”

Raph gave him an incredulous look and lied for the second time that night. “No. Not in a cute way.”

Casey shoved a fist against his chest. “Oof! Straight to the heart!” He leaned closer to Raph. “So… since we can’t duel because you’re crying and stuff–”

“Not crying.”

“Uh-huh. Do you wanna talk about why you’re crying?”

Raph gave him a truly disgusted look. “To you?”

“Why not?”

“You’re a total stranger, and the only other time I interacted with you, we were enemies.”

“Woah, woah, enemies? I wouldn’t say that.”

“We fought.”

“We dueled, totally different.”

Raph scoffed and looked away. Casey chewed on his lip, thinking, then slapped a hand against the turtle’s shoulder.

“You know what makes me feel better when everything is shit?”

Raph looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “...what?”

Casey pulled a baseball bat from the golf bag on his back and brandished it proudly. “Bustin’ heads.”

The turtle eyed the bat warily for a moment. “Uh, yeah, I noticed that’s how you get your kicks. You kinda have a hard time… stopping. Busting their heads, I mean.”

A shrug. “Yeah, sometimes. Don’t worry, I’ll be good.” He batted eyelashes at Raph and offered a winning grin. “C’mon.”

Raph pursed his lips, thinking that he should really be getting back because Leo did not like anyone being gone too long, especially when he was injured like this, when he couldn’t just get up and track them down. But Casey’s smile was lively and warm, and it was hard not to smile back.

“Alright.” He pushed away from the ledge and gave his face one last wipe to remove the evidence of his crying session. “I could go for some head-busting.”

“Hell yeah!” Casey grabbed his wrist to tug him toward the fire escape, then let go. “Hey, what’s your name by the way? Or, like, do you have a name?”

Raph looked down at his own wrist, then back up at Casey as he pulled his hockey mask back over his face. He actually looked kind of menacing, with a face of bone white and shadow, but Raph knew that the smile was still wide and burning bright under there. “It’s Raph.”

Casey swung down onto the fire escape. “They won’t know what hit ‘em, Raph!”

[kii-chan-reloaded]

I'm frustrated that I am so incapable at critical thinking that after 12+ years of playing Magic, a 16 minute video about fucking Goblin Grenade made me finally realize the exact reason why I both love playing Magic in concept and hate playing Magic in any sort of organized setting.

And now I need to get the words out of my head before I go insane. As an act of benevolence, I'll put all my pointless ramblings beneath a read more. You're welcome.

The video poses the simple question "What is your favorite Magic card?" I waffled on it for a minute, going over some candidates in my head, but the clear winner for me was Progenitus.

It's everything a Timmy like me wants - a big, stompy creature that is instantly a threat that is both hard to get rid of and to shut down. But, coming off probably a month straight of my main source of entertainment being video essays, I was essentially tricked into breaking it down further and expressing my reasoning why:

Progenitus is a challenge.

It's the game designers putting a seemingly impossible-to-cast creature in your hands and taunting you to even try to cast it. Casting Progenitus, even in EDH where play is typically slower than any 60-card variant and has the benefit of almost the entire pool of Magic cards to pull from, isn't a reliable or easy thing to do. It essentially turns the game into a puzzle - How can you cut corners to cast this obvious threat before your opponents can do anything to stop you?

And that "puzzle" aspect is where I draw my fun from in Magic. I don't approach Magic as a competition. I don't have fun restricting or controlling my opponents. My fun comes from solving puzzles - from finding creative ways to circumvent expectations (i.e. pulling off difficult alternate win conditions like Maze's end or Hellkite Tyrant), and from giving my opponents difficult puzzles to solve (i.e. Progenitus and/or Ulamog, affecting the board state in insane ways with chaos group hug, etc)

Clearly, this is in contention with how the majority of people who play Magic at organized events approach the game. They want to win. They want to come out on top of their opponent and walk away with the rewards, social or material. They're not interested in setting up puzzles, they want to get the game over as quickly as possible and to make sure they always have the upper hand.

I always just assumed that I was just a "casual" Magic player, someone who is "bad at Magic". But it turns out, I have just been playing a different game than what 90% of my opponents were.

This also feeds into my recent inclination to try to become a judge. By distancing myself from the emotional aspect of the game, the only thing remaining is the bare mechanics of Magic, an intricate and dense web of rules... A puzzle to be navigated and solved.

I have yet to decide if this invalidates my desire to judge or if it reinforces my place as a judge. Because that would require critical thinking, which I am incapable of unless someone makes a fun and engaging video showing me how to first.

Anyway, rant over.

[monsterkiss]

One of the things I appreciate a lot about choosing to do Cringetober is that it made me feel closer to my F/Os because I've been spending all this time drawing them and thinking about them.

Another thing is that it pushed me to draw selfship art probably for the first time in about 3 years. It provided me with ideas (prompts) and motivation (time constraints + it being a challenge that lots of other people are doing, and jumping on the bandwagon seems to be interesting/entertaining enough for my brain).

Generally it's also been keeping me somewhat busy since it created this sort of artificial schedule I'm trying to follow and, then again, pushed me to draw more in general. It reminded me that I also can, in fact, draw more than once per several months. That even if drawing has felt pretty damn hard for a while now, even impossible sometimes, I still can manage to do it, and do it in a way I like and then again, not spend literal months trying to finish one single thing, reminded me that I can finish some drawings relatively quickly.

Of course it helps that like I said, it provided me with a list of prompts, gave me motivation and sort of a schedule… Once again I'm reminded that I work best with time constaints or some kind of pressure. (Even when I really really hate it... not in this particular case but lots of others.)

Because in case of a monthly challenge, I know that if I fall behind the "schedule", even if it doesn't actually matter, but I'd be dragging behind while more and more days of Cringetober pass, and that doesn't feel good to me, and then I'd end up feeling overwhelmed and would probably just completely drop it. That's also why it's important that I've chosen to ignore some of the prompts and not try to do everything because otherwise, again, I'd get overwhelmed and would hardly finish anything, and that's also why it's good that for some prompts I've made pretty messy and simplistic drawings. I've actually never managed to stick to a monthly drawing challenge this long before, I think.

So just, this has been pretty cool.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things. 

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait. 

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows. 

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.  

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again. 

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him. 

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia. 

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat. 

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

[ksbbb]

“You think that’s gonna dissuade me?”

It’s entirely possible that Theo does everything in his power to aggravate Liam to no end. Even going so far as to smirk at him with those eyes and with that annoyingly attractive face. Everything is an argument. Everything he says Theo has to challenge him on. So why would now be any different?

Theo runs his fingers through his hair, giving Liam that smug smirk, attempting to distract him from the task at hand, but he quickly turns his back to the chimera. He hates when Theo feels the need to touch his hair. Especially when it’s messy, all in his face, and it’s just perfectly enhances the features of the chimera. It makes him want to scream sometimes. It’s unfair. Who even looks like that in a stakeout?

Theo gently taps his shoulders, earning a scowl from Liam, and he chuckles at him, as if this situation is funny, because it’s not. Any minute now he expects a hunter to find them and probably use something lethal on them. He can’t focus. He never can when Theo is around, especially when Theo places his hand on his shoulder at this exact moment.

“Get off. I’m thinking.” Liam huffs out, shrugging Theo off his shoulder and trying his best to focus on what the next step is. He tries. Even with the skip in his heart rate. He really does but Theo being Theo, does everything he can to make that impossible. He merely tilts his head at Liam and looks amused.

“If you thought this through before we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Theo points out, flashing his yellow eyes at him, just as Liam opens his mouth and he attempts to argue with the chimera. He quickly turns around when he hears footsteps drawing closer. A branch snaps and his werewolf senses are in high alert.

Even so, he feels Theo’s eyes on him, waiting, expecting him to respond, and argue with him. Again.

“You didn’t have to come. I didn’t even ask for your help. I actually told you I could handle it. You don’t always have to help me.” He turns to glance back at Theo when he doesn’t hear his typical snarky comeback. He was waiting for it, but when he glances at Theo, he’s looking back softly at him. His body is tense, but the typical sass is non existent.

“You think that’s gonna dissuade me?” Theo asks softly, making Liam shiver, and any thought in his head leaves him. He can only stare back at Theo as he takes a step closer, and his normal aggravated feelings evaporite. It’s replaced with a soft flutter in his stomach. His skin is on fire from the look Theo is giving him. It ignites a flame and he has to look away.

“I…we’re in the middle of the woods Theo…focus.” As the words leave his lips he can hear his own heartbeat skip to signal the lie. The lie of wanting Theo to focus on anything but this moment. Anything but him. He nervously shifts on his feet, waiting, expecting the chimera to refocus.

Liam swallows, his breath hitching slightly as Theo takes a step closer, almost entirely in his space, and leaving no room to turn away. Like all those other times when he was trying to ignore whatever it is that was happening between them. Whatever this is.

This time he doesn’t feel like turning away, or moving. His feet are stuck to the floor, and Theo is leaning…leaning closer….

Liam closes the distance between them, and everything slows down. He can’t breath, can’t smell anything but Theo, and his fingers close around the hew of his shirt, a soft whine leaving his lips. Or maybe it was Theo who whined. He can’t tell. He can only feel.

Feel Theo and the never ending connection that has grown between them. Feel the distance close and the unspoken thing between them evaporate completely.

[maxwell-grant]

Having asked your thoughts on designing Frankenstein's daemon, might I now ask your thoughts on bringing Count Dracula from the written word into illustration? (I'm definitely in favour of the 'Hairy Old Mountain Man of Horror pretending he's people' look from the original novel; one of the small tests too many Draculas fail to pass is an absolutely tragic lack of the Evil Beard and/or Wicked Moustache explicitly described by Mr Stoker).

Unlike with Frankenstein, where I think the design needs to be painstakingly thought out in order to achieve the best balance of the creature's traits for horror and tragedy alike, I think with Dracula you can actually just take an approach of "whatever works". Because as I mentioned before, I think much of the appeal and longevity of Dracula is how the character's both a layered villain as well as a shapeshifting narrative force that can be tailored to whatever you want to do with. Granted, there are bad or dissappointing Dracula designs, of course there are, but in regards to the leeway you get for reinterpretation, you get a lot more of it with Dracula than with other literary icons.

Like with Frankenstein, I'm gonna bring up how I'd tackle a less grim, more comedy-centric Dracula first, one that's less a force of horror and more of a charismatic villain, and I think to that end I definitely agree that people are sleeping a lot on the hairy old man barely-passing-off-as-humanoid of the original story. Despite very much loving these performers, I'm actually not a fan of takes that mold Dracula too closely to people who've portrayed him, like Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee, partially because I think it's a waste of an opportunity to create your own Dracula design. Since I can't draw (yet), I'll do what I usually do and make a board of images to try and convey some of my thoughts on one way I'd design Dracula.

(Pictured: Kiwi's design for Dracula, Hotel Transylvania concept art, Nandor, Castlevania Dracula, Charles Dance in Dracula Untold, Vladislav, a Transylvanian rug)

I used the images in my other Dracula post and I’ll post it here again because I absolutely adore @kiwibyrd's designs for Dracula and it's main heroes, in particular I love the way it strikes a good balance at making sure Dracula looks distinctly separate from the humans, but not too much that he couldn't conceivably operate in society as just a harmless old man. I also adore the mustache and bushy eyebrows and pointy ears and I think these three are wonderful features to keep on any Dracula design. I'm also very partial to the Hotel Transylvania concept art, even if it makes me incredibly depressed to look at all the great designs they had for Dracula that they threw in the trash because they somehow decided making him look like Adam Sandler was the idea to go with.

I deeply adore What We Do In The Shadows, both the movie and the show, and Jemaine Clement's Vladislav is one of my favorite (maybe even my actual favorite) on-screen Draculas. But I also enjoy Nandor just as much, and I think it's really great that as a character he's completely different from Vlad while also being ostensibly a take on Dracula, and in particular I bring up his Jersey look because "Dracula in common clothing" is a criminally underrated concept for a joke.

As a character, I'm very partial to comedy takes on Dracula that play him up as a decadent aristocratic supervillain, the kind that can get away with talking in third person. I also have this idea for a version of Dracula who dresses ostentatiously in finely-broidered Romanian or Transylvanian patterns, maybe even wearing a rug as a cape, claiming that he's carrying the legacy of his people on his back. And of course he's lying, he's not Vlad Tepes and he's not even Romanian, he is just a parasite pretending to have a history to be proud of, but good luck getting him to admit that. And finally, I'd like this version to be played by Charles Dance, and I consider it a tremendous crime against humanity that he has yet to play Dracula proper even despite being in a film with the character's name on the title.

So that's kinda how I would design a take on Dracula for something more comedic or more based around him as this guest character and personality on-set. Now, if we're talking a more serious version, I think the possibilities increase, and I won't be getting into all of them because I may prefer to keep them to myself, but I'll elaborate a few ideas.

For example, the edition of Dracula I personally own comes with these really scratchy, really creepy B&W illustrations related to the story, that I can't find scanned online so I'm uploading them here so you can look at. They don't necessarily depict the scenes but rather some of the story's moments, like Van Helsing staking Lucy, Renfield in a straightjacket, Dracula as a coachman, and they are more focused on conveying the horror of the concepts at play.

Dracula never looks the same way in any of the illustrations, in fact you kinda have to piece him out of them by trying to find teeth or capes or eyes or bat-features to see where he's hiding this time. In the first, it's the half-man half-bat, in the 2nd, he's the shrieking bat silhouette next to Renfield, and in the latter, he's the gaping jaws and eerily humanoid eyes in the wolf. The effect to me almost feels like if you were to look at a bunch of tv static and then see a humanoid shape form for a split second before everything went back to normal, something like you'd get from Slender Man or other modern creepypastas, and I’ve argued before that Dracula’s form of horror is a very modern one. 

In terms of illustrations of Dracula that keep up the original traits while still pulling off horror, I definitely have to hand it to the one at the left of the image above, drawn by regourso on Deviantart (account deleted at present). Going back to Castlevania’s many takes on Dracula, two in particular that stick out to me would be Castlevania: Judgment’s armored dress Dracula, who’s got this great twisted heart/rose motif going on in his outfit, and Dracula’s final form in SOTN where he just sits in his throne and his cape twists into all these monsters, particularly how it’s depicted by witnesstheabsurd’s depiction. 

I’m not particularly a fan of how Dracula’s “final form” in these games is usually just some big demon, and part of what I like about his final form in SOTN instead is that, while it’s not a particularly challenging final boss, I do find it interesting the idea of us never actually getting to see what Dracula’s true final form looks like, only an ever-shifting pitch-black torrent of teeth and claws and bloody veins pouring out because that’s ultimately what Dracula is and brings to the world.

On the flip-side of the rotten old monster, we have the charming seductor Dracula, and while I’m really not a fan of how various adaptations have convinced people that “the point” of Dracula is that he’s a seductive force and an allegory for Victorian xenophobia and I’m reeeally even less of a fan of adaptations that make Dracula some misunderstood tragic hero (and I think I’ve made rather violently clear my feelings on interpretations that play up a romance between him and Mina), that the seductive force part exists is impossible to deny, so conversely, while on one hand we can have Dracula as the gargantuan whirlwind of predatory violence, we can also go for Dracula as the tantalizing lover.

I’ve seen a lot of opinions proclaiming Frank Langella as the best Dracula because he was the best at actually being seductive while still playing Dracula, although I haven’t yet seen his performances. If I had to point at one picture I look at and do buy for a second the idea of Dracula as a romantic character, it would be that particular still of Raul Julia in the left of the above image. And it’s strange for me to think of Raul Julia as attractive because I mainly associate him with his brilliant comedy performance of M.Bison (I know it’s far from the highlight of his career but, look, I grew up with Street Fighter, I can’t help it) but those eyes are definitely looking pretty convincing to me, if nothing else. 

And I’ve included this still of Sebastian Stan in the right because, during a conversation between me, @krinsbez and @jcogginsa about who could be a good fit for Dracula, jcog suggested Sebastian Stan, partially because he’s Romanian, and I’ve learned recently that Stan was actually interested in playing the character in Blumhouse’s upcoming remake. And you’d think I’d hate this idea  considering how much I don’t care for tragic anti-hero Draculas, but who says that’s what he’d have to play? 

Do you have any idea how much actors, who are traditionally known for heroic or supporting roles, usually LOVE it when you give them a chance to cut loose as the main villain?

I’d want Sebastian Stan to put all of his charm, all of his talent, all of his good looks and etc, into playing the absolute most vicious, bloodthirsty and irredeemable Dracula put on screen. Someone who is exceedingly, eerily good at being a lovable protagonist, who’s all smiles and charming eyes and politeness mannerisms and maybe even a funny accent, and then it isn't as funny when he's flying through your window intent on kidnapping babies to feed to his brides, except he may take a moment or two to do so because he's feeling pretty hungry himself right now.

Now, admittedly this is kind of a lot to juggle in regards to a single character, which is why my answer for questions like these inevitably has to be “depends on what I’m going for”. That being said, if I was going to try and cast someone who I think could both look the part of Dracula, as well as respectively, play “cartoon aristocrat” Dracula, “mercurial embodiment of evil” Dracula, as well as realistically be an attractive, even seductive performer who can charm viewers even as the character descends into horrible villainy, and juggle these performances even?

I think I’d have to go with Mads Mikkelsen. Not specifically because of Hannibal (I actually haven’t watched it yet), although it’s definitely a factor, the thing that actually made me pick him specifically is, other than his looks, his voice, his reputation for playing sinister characters, the fact that he loves the role and wants to play it, or how many people are deeply in love with this man, or that people already joke that he looks like a vampire, was watching him in Another Round, and specifically that glorious final scene where he’s just dancing to his heart’s content and just, moving with such spring in his step and such joyful vitality even though he’s past his mid-fifties, and that was the moment where, in regards to how much you all love this man, I went

And now I am going to add “casting Mads Mikkelsen as a dancing Dracula” to The List of Reasons Why I Became a Filmmaker.

[nagipops]

hii I love your blogs sooo much you're really talented (I just needed to say it sorry) so straight to the point, I already made 2 requests to you and I really enjoyed your writing so I would like to make another again. As I'm clueless about what to request I'll just ask for random hcs for konoha 11, idk if it's too much but if so then you can do with Neji (I love him so much), Kakashi and Naruto. Thank you in advance and sorry anything ^^

RANDOM KONOHA 11 HEADCANONS!

FEATURING: naruto, sakura, shikamaru, ino, choji, neji, rock lee, tenten, kiba, hinata, and shino

WARNINGS: mentions alcohol, drugs, food, bugs, and the tiniest nsfw mention if you get the joke. hehe

A/N: AHHHH ANONN this seriously made my day, im so so glad you enjoy my work!! 💖

NARUTO

you know how we all have “the chair”, where we throw all of our dirty clothes onto?

yeah, imagine that, but from the seat to the fricking ceiling

its just a GINORMOUS MOUND of clothes, you wonder how he even goes through that many clothes so quickly???

definitely shoves it under his bed whenever guests come over (somehow)

holds chopsticks really weirdly. but it works.

asked tenten to put his hair into space buns to mimic his sexy jutsu and went around flirting with the village

jiraiya was so proud of him T-T

comes up with the WORST pickup lines

they’re so bad, its almost charming. almost

has gone AWOL multiple times, disappearing from everywhere, just everywhere

it scared you a little, so you searched the entire village for him

you finally found him sitting on the ledge of a cliff, gazing out at the vast sea

concerned and panicked, you cried out to ask him what was wrong

he turned to you with a crestfallen, devastated look on his face and said,

“i bought shrimp ramen instead of chicken ramen.”

you’ve never searched for him after his disappearance ever again.

SAKURA

100% makes origami shurikens and chucks them at you

they are deathly precise and deathly sharp. seriously, how are these not illegal weapons yet???

writes threatening motivational notes to herself on the mirror

“u got this!” “make sure to smack naruto today!” “ino sucks!”

her backpack would always be way too high up on her back. idk why but. it would

does her hair all nice and pretty before she goes out but once she arrives to her destination SHE KEEP. TAKING. IT OUT. and redoing it over and over and over again

like it’s impossible to make eye contact with her because she’s holding a bobby pin between her teeth while braiding her hair

her guilty pleasure would be hostess treats

ding dongs are her favorite. don’t ask me how i know, i just know.

eats the yellow starbursts just to spite naruto and all her haters

loves small lap dogs, she think’s they’re so cute and cuddly

but she especially loves chihuahuas

they’re so feisty and naruto HATES them, so of course she had to go and get one for herself

dresses the poor dog up in little bonnets and jackets and ties its tiny fuzzy hairs into pigtails

she and the chihuahua are not that much unlike <3

SHIKAMARU

this man is a god at shogi but he absolutely SUCKSSSS at cup pong.

is this an ick? idk. but he is absolute trash at this game.

it gets even worse when he’s got a couple drinks in him

tries to calculate the velocity and acceleration and angle and shit but his shot is always a good two feet off BYE 😭

just mutters an “aw, shit” before awaiting his turn again

hates checkers, loves chess

“checkers is for WUSSIES” - shikamaru nara

i said this in another post, but he is Very Good at whistling

like that’s his hidden talent

can copy any tune with the perfect pitch and rhythm

speaking of, he can do really cool tricks with his tongue

like making a four leaf clover, touching the bridge of his nose with it, flipping it upside down, you name it

he has slanted, scrawled handwriting, to the point where it’s almost illegible

wbk he cheats in school SO OFTEN. but he never gets caught. he’s not stupid, he just couldn’t care less about his classes.

thinks weed and e-cigs are stupid, cigarettes are where it’s at

you just can’t replicate the feeling of taking a drag from a cig after a long, tiring day

plus he looks hella cool while doing it B)

INO

teaches the boyz™️ how to braid their hair

like they all gather in a circle around this feisty fashionista and fail attempt to braid their hair

sakura was just fuming in the sidelines

“OI, INO-PIG, THAT’S A DUTCH BRAID, NOT A FRENCH BRAID!!”

yeah, ino 🙄

the only one that can actually do it is neji because a) this man is talented af and b) he’s got the long hairrr

ino probably envies his thick, sleek hair because hE’S a bOy

also asks everyone for their blood type and zodiac signs and tells them if they’re compatible with her or not

and definitely judges you for your sign 😣

“oh, you’re a gemini? hmm, what a shame...”

makes bouquets for her favorite people and kin assigns everyone a flower

only assigns the pretty nice ones to the people she likes (sorry sakura, you’re out of luck)

one of her favorite hobbies is crafting! she’s really good with details and small things so she loves making those miniature dollhouses and stuff

also really good at watercoloring. especially painting flowers and landscapes

also i feel like she would be really good at playing any instrument because of her skilled hands

can play a badass flute solo. period.

CHOJI

would honestly rather die than get anywhere NEAR an asparagus

he just thinks they’re so gross and bitter and NOT SALTY

he always eats his yakiniku a little bit undercooked because he’s way too impatient to wait for it to cook fully. who do you think he is??

whenever he cloud gazes with shikamaru, when asked what he thinks a cloud looks like, he just says some sort of food

“oi, choji, what does that one look like to you?”

“a... yakiniku grill... with... pineapple rings on it! ooh, and a wagyu steak right there!”

he thinks pringles are an abomination to society. where’s the crisp? where’s the grease? where’s the saltiness?!!!

asks ino to teach him how to do his hair all fancy and the two of them devote an entire day learning different hairstyles

it’s his new favorite thing to do now :D

he really likes crayons!!!!

like he’ll write with them, draw with them, color with them, do everything with them

he’s even tried to eat them. he said they tasted good.

definitely had the 128 crayon pack WITH THE BUILT-IN SHARPENER, and everyone thought he was the coolest kid in town

he ate it UP, he even scored some bbq dates with the ladies

i also feel like he loves basketball, and he has a MEAN slam dunk

like his vertical isn’t that high, but the man can REACH

he loves when people laugh at him when he challenges them to a 1v1 and then proceeds to absolutely destroy them <3

NEJI

he seems like a cucumber kind of guy.

just cucumber

like i feel like he puts it in everything; soba, salads, sandwiches, his face, yeah

it’s mellow and cool, just like him!

speaking of, i feel like he lives for spa days and facials

it just lets him be alone in his little cucumber scented world for an hour or two and he gets damn clear skin from it as well

seriously he has PERFECT skin. flawless. not a single blemish. his cheeks feel like baby butts they’re so smooth.

i feel like he’d be a god at solving rubik’s cubes, don’t ask me why

like if anyone scrambled theirs on accident they would just take it to neji and he’d solve it in the blink of an eye

CAT PERSON!!! loves the little meow meows

who are we kidding, neji basically is a cat; agile, aloof, does silly things without trying to, very cute

he just feels akin to the little fuzzballs and he thinks petting cats are extremely therapeutic. good for the soul

he is a golf man. he would take his juniors golfing and everyone thinks he’s uncool. cmon neji let them go to the skate park at least T-T

also very good at karaoke, definitely surprised everyone once he got a few drinks in him since he started serenading you

LIGHTWEIGHT!!! do not get more than one shot of alcohol in him. he will go berserk.

i also feel like he’d really love photography; not taking pictures of people, but of nature

he loves taking a quiet stroll through a pretty forest and snapping pictures of all the unique flora and fauna

it’s so serene ︶ ‿ ︶

ROCK LEE

100% milly rocks everywhere

gai got in on it too once he asked what lee was doing

“is that what all the youthful cool kids do these days!”

they also dab together. a lot

DO NOT BE SEEN WITH THESE TWO!!! you are not associated with them.

definitely is the one breakdancing in the middle of the dance circle at a high school party

he’s mad skilled at it too

headspins and windmills galore

challenged naruto to a dance-off and completely OBLITERATED him

lee then asked if naruto wanted a rematch, this time with one hand tied behind lee’s back

naruto obliged, and he STILL lost

RIP naruto and his fangirls, they all scrambled to lee afterwards T-T

i feel like his favorite subject is science

not the boring physics equations and laws and theories but the fun EXPERIMENTS

definitely has singed all of his hair off one time and he went to gai blubbering to help him grow back his precious hair

but he loves experimenting with different combinations and chemicals to get different reactions each time

created a potent love potion and carried it around with him all day one day

and it was actually working

girls were flocking to him left and right, staring at his lips and his face

he was so abashed at the sudden attention

heck, it even worked on sakura

“oi, lee-san!”

“hehe, yes, sakura-san?”

her eyes shifted downwards to his lips and his heart thumped harder

“hey... lee-san?”

“what is it?”

“you have something on your lip. we’ve been trying to tell you all day but you just winked and blew kisses at us.”

legend has it lee has still not recovered to this day.

TENTEN

has THE prettiest handwriting. and she can write SUPER fast

it’s like a superpower

like she transcribed five pages of a report in less than two minutes with perfect handwriting

naruto is so jealous.

she is also super good at origami! those diligent, accurate hands aren’t just for throwing things

taught sakura how to make shurikens but does NOT endorse any violent uses of them

she can replicate all of her weapons with paper and they can actually function, it’s so cool

made paper kunai knives one day and the wholeee village wanted to get their hands on them

i feel like she’d listen to mitski. idk i just get those vibes

LOVES BIG DOGS!! especially fluffy wuffy samoyeds

like man’s best friend?? no, GIRL’S BEST FRIEND!!

hugs and cuddles and squishes all the big dogs

she thinks small dogs are spawns of satan

sakura and her have definitely quarreled over this

but at the end of the day, all dogs are adorable fur babies, so she lets it slide :,)

KIBA

kiba always looks SO GOOD in photos you take of him, candid or not

like you could just whip out a camera and snap a photo of him at any given moment and he would look perfect

you framed a picture of him yelling at akamaru for peeing inside the house

it’s pure artwork

i feel like he tries to swagger around with his hands shoved in his pockets but it fails MISERABLY and the girls are wondering if he broke his leg or something 😭

kiba just walk normally. for the love of god please just walk normally.

he tries to slump back in his chair really low but one time he slouched way too low so he slipped off of his chair and onto the ground LMFAOOOO

he just wallowed there... in shame...

also.. he LOVES when the girls put makeup on him!!

he tries to act like he hates it. but it secretly gives him so much confidence

not to mention the girls hyping him up are a huge ego boost

okay the inside of his jacket hood is the warmest. thing. EVER!!!

seriously, no wonder this dude is so happy-go-lucky all the time, he’s living in literal heaven 24/7

it’s like you’re sleeping on a cloud inside a warm, cozy bed during a cold winter morning

10/10 would recommend letting him give you his sweatshirt when you’re chillin with a hair tie ❤️

HINATA

always smells like lavender soap. always

also has the cutest pencil pouches with little puppy faces and kawaii things

oH and she has those mini yoobi highlighters, she thinks they’re so cute (and functional!)

everyone flocks to her to try them out and marvel at the cute tiny highlighters

and they try to steal them from her but she doesn’t even stop them because she’s too timid to 😭

naruto goes BALLISTIC over them

she lets him have all of them <3

tennis girl!!! tennis girl.

all of her opponents always underestimate her because she’s so timid and shy and quiet

but she has a KILLER serve

and then she takes her opponents to the slaughterhouse with a complete shutout ;)

she’s really athletic believe it or not, she can beat most of the boys in a mile run and she has incredible endurance

i feel like she really loves velvet scrunchies

she just thinks they’re so pretty and they keep her hair soft so they’re cute and functional

also takes the PRETTIEST notes!!

color codes, dividers, headers, you name it, it’s all super readable too its insane

everyone asks her for her notes, not to study but just to appreciate the pure artwork that it is ^w^

SHINO

shino is SO easy to prank

“how do you catch an eyemaster?” *cue naruto and kiba snickering*

“eyemaster bait. that is because—”

even when everyone’s laughing their asses off, he still continues to explain his answer since he does NOT GET THE JOKE

tried his hand at writing haikus

here’s his best one so far:

“Bugs are amazing. That is because they are bugs. Bugs are very nice.” - Shino Aburame

VERY proud of it, since it took him weeks to perfect

praise it, pls

had one of those ant farms and bug-catching kits as a kid

and he would fill the kit TO THE BRIM. LIKE IT WAS HEAVY BECAUSE THERE WERE SO MANY BUGS.

he loves the little chitters of the different bugs

he had jars of different bugs all lined up on a wall shelf in his room

collects silkworms off of trees and sticks them into his pockets (no i definitely did not do this as a kid...)

HELP I FEEL LIKE he would record a timelapse of his ant farm growing and upload it to youtube with a movie maker title screen that says

“my ants”

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

[ericspinkhair]

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

[dreamlandcreations]

All Hallows Eve

King Arthur x mage!Reader

Summary: Staying at the castle, you train Arthur so he can wield the sword properly. When All Hallows Eve arrives, the dead wants to be heard...

Warnings: angsty fluff?

•

The guards lead you to the throne room. Few of the knights and the king waits for you to enter. Another mage, they suspect, but they are not sure so the king agreed to hear you out.

All eyes are on you when you enter the room. You step closer to the blond man who matched the description of their leader. He studies you, finding you familiar, your manners very similar to the one mage he met.

"Who are you?" Arthur inquires blatantly and you tilt your head, looking him up and down slowly. He suddenly feels nervous because he can't read your expression but something tells him you are not entirely satisfied with what you see.

"Your new teacher." There is a palpable disdain in your voice, that perhaps answers his inner question. You are not happy with this task at all.

"And what would you like to teach me?" He looked you up and down like you did but his way of looking suggested he had ideas about what he would like to learn.

"Well, someone thought you should learn how to use that cursed thing." You incline your head in the direction of the sword. "And I drew the short straw." The first real expression he gets is your slightly sparkling eyes and raised eyebrow at his subtle challenge.

"Show me what you can do." He will soon learn you have no patience for, well anything, really. But he likes that you hate wasting time, especially with pleasantries and small talk, you prefer honesty instead.

"I don't want to hurt you." Arthur has doubts about your abilities and doesn't want to risk hurting a woman.

"You won't." He swears he saw a flash of a smirk before you moved lightning fast. Drawing out your own, black sword, you strike him and he barely has time to prevent losing his head by getting his weapon in the way.

It only takes three moves for you to get what you want. You try to strike him again and his response is a broad swing at your blade, which you drop at the last second and grab the end of the powerful weapon pointing at you. Holding it firmly you force its power to build and let it go with a blast, sending the king backwards, falling at the floor, looking at you like you've grown two heads.

The others were stopped from interfering by Bedivere. He knew not to mess with mages. You prove him right when you take the sword by the handle and twirl it, causing your eyes and the blade to glow, the table you directed it at crumbles onto the ground in pieces.

"That's impossible!" You throw the sword in the air and grab it by the tip with one hand so he can take it be the handle. Arthur takes it and stands as you speak.

"Nothing is impossible, but everything comes with a price and most can't even imagine paying it." You raise the hand you've grabbed the sword with and show him your burned palm.

"We will start tomorrow night." You close the discussion and Arthur gives you a reserved nod.

"Lord Bedivere will show you to a comfortable room..." He starts but then realises he missed something, so he asks. "What's your name?"

"Why would I tell you that?" There's definitely a tiny smirk pulling on your full lips.

"So I would know what to call you?" He retorts in a way you'd think he is speaking to a child who has a hard time understanding something. His tone is mocking, having the hint of his own smirk and raised eyebrow giving you the impression that all you heard about his joking manner is unfortunately true.

"You didn't bother before, Mage is fine for me too." You roll your eyes at him and turn to leave but he is not done.

"That would be a little confusing don't you think?" Again, teasing you to get what he wants. You think about how to throw him off his high horse and your lips stretch into a devious smile.

"What would you like to call me, then?" You ask, smiling, tilting your head and drawing up your brow again.

"Bitchy witch would fit." Bill mumbles, trying and failing to cover it with a cough.

"Hmm...yes, I think Witch will do." You answer the king then turn to Bill as you start to move in the direction of the door where Lord Bedivere waits for you. Standing before the man who mocked you, looking at him dead in the eyes you reply to him as well. "Don't call me a bitch again. Us bitches don't like that." Bill just looks at you with wide eyes and Arthur tries to hold back his laugh until you leave. This will be interesting, he thinks, following you with his eyes until you turn at the corner.

•

You've been living at the palace for a few months when All Hallows Eve arrives.

"What happened?" Arthur demands to know, rushing to your side as you watch through a window the disaster that threatens the city. His sword is drawn, ready for a fight but there is nothing he can slay.

"There is a big fire at the bridge and smaller ones all over the city, if we can't put it out under the pillars it can damage the structure, the citizens are being evacuated as we speak." One of the knights inform him in a hurry before he runs to join the people who try to salvage what they can.

You look at them struggle to put out the fire and you know they won't be able to do it in time so you grab Arthur's hand, touching the sword and focus on the fires. Arthur is still, feeling you like you were an extension of him and your power moves through him just like the sword's, the air is pulsating around you and both of your and his eyes are glowing from the magic flowing through you.

You exhale and inhale slowly and feel the flames within you, calming them by slowing your breath and putting them out with a last exhale. Immediately letting go of the sword when you are done, you turn to retreat to your room to collect your energy and manage the wound you just earned yourself.

Arthur finds you sitting on your bed, bandaging your burns. He sits beside you and turns you to him, taking a piece of cloths and swiping the blood from under your nose. You didn't feel it hit you that heavy then but you are still dizzy with the backlash.

"Thank you." You say quietly, waiting for him to talk and scold or tease you like he usually does.

"What was that?" He questions, raising your head with a finger under your chin and you give him a narrow eyed look that says 'don't even start that.' He just smiles at you and checks your hand before he orders you to rest.

You tell him you can't. He asks if you know the reason of the fires and you say yes. He hates it when he has to get things out of you word by word but he gets that your people are used to being secretive.

"Tonight the dead can interact with the living. The stronger the spirit, the more damage they can do. I think we both know who would want to destroy your kingdom with this burning passion." You give him some information but you don't want him to get to the conclusions and to the subject you are trying avoid.

"How do we deal with him?" He starts to wonder with the question, too focused on the problem to notice you hiding something.

"We?" You ask, hoping your tone would deliver the message that there will be no 'we' in this. Of course, he ignores it.

"Yes, we. You and me." You roll your eyes at him and give up trying to deter him, you know he's too stubborn to back down.

•

The ritual goes well. You summoned the dark spirit to the stone circle and banished him with fire that cleansed his spirit so he couldn't hold onto this word.

"Can you summon other spirits?" Arthur asks while you pack the ingredients and start to wash off the paint-mask that hid your face.

"No!" The answer comes too quickly and too loudly and you know you messed up.

"No, you can't or no, you won't?" He speaks in his usual tone but you can hear the disappointment and faint anger behind his carefree words..

"You are too clever for your own good." You sigh, giving in too easily. You have developed a soft spot for him and he is too attentive not to notice. He is shamelessly using it to his advantage every time.

"It is dangerous, you will follow my lead and do not speak your name, do not acknowledge your identity in any way. And whatever happens do not let them touch you." You instruct him sternly and for once he takes it seriously.

"Just one, Arthur." This is the first time you've ever said his name and he is distracted for a moment with how much he likes the sound of it coming from you. "Pick one person who passed away and summon them with calling on their name three times. You can let them go by blowing out the candle and saying 'you may rest in peace.'"

You let them talk from a safe distance, watching over the stubborn man as he follows every instruction you had given while you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

It's over in a few minutes, he didn't let the soul linger too long, heeding your words and closing his unfinished business quickly.

When he steps closer, you can see that there are tears in his eyes as he looks at you from behind all the paint you've put on him.

"Thank you." He gives you a quick kiss on the lips, it's more of a peck only but he doesn't linger long enough to wait for your reaction.

"What was that?" You ask, perplexed and frozen on the spot.

"Affection. You better get used to it." With that he left you there to return to the palace, he only looked back once and saw you still looking at him with that stunned expression and that only made him smile brighter.

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