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#also im not dead just studying (same thing)
wormmpile · 2 months
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Sometimes I see someone say something about a piece of media as if it is revelatory mind blowing hot off the press news, and not the most basic obvious point of the work or the most basic obvious allusion, and it makes me roll my eyes a little because I'm like yeah yeah the time knife we've all seen it, and then I have to like physically step in and shake myself and be like actually Susan we have Not all seen the time knife, and anyway someone else is enjoying the wonders of media analysis as a hobby for maybe like. The first time in their life if they're young enough. Don't be a bozo just because you think you're smart. Nerd. Fuckass. If you were a high school english teacher you'd be pissing yourself in joy rn because someone connected the dots. That's so cool that they did that. And I go about my day because I'm normal
#i also do this with history stuff but somehow less... even though it's my actual academic field which i am trained in#i think bc i always felt out of my depth in my history program and the only reason i was ever any good at it#is because im innately just good at understanding media#like all my history work was secretly just an excuse for me to do literary and rhetorical analyses of very niche real world paraphernalia#if i got my grad degree in something completely fucking useless it would be either rhetoric or comparative literature#but sometimes people do say base historical facts that are just fundamentally incorrect and sometimes conspiratorial garbage#and it does make me want to die#anyway this is about someone in a youtube video arguing that flowers in the attic by vc andrews is a gothic horror novel#babe that's.... that is in fact the genre of that novel#0 note post#im aware it is an insanely cocky ridiculous thing to say that im innately good at understanding media but the thing is#im right#i dont have to study it the media just tells me things it whispers them in my ears sensually and i nod and take notes#i see the patterns constantly it's pretty scary#i told my friend recently about my secret plan to one day write a novel length thesis on why house of leaves and moby dick are the same#type novel and they were like saturn your brain is so big and well it is because tell me im wrong. you cant#the whale is literally a house#i think i could make it a whole thing about Haunting as a physical presence within the narrative and expand it beyond those 2 books if i was#ambitious enough. because good ghost stories and stories of the dead are all warped at their foundations#they were broken before they ever came to you by the weight of all the death inside them#this is my poetic justification for why moby dick is unnecessarily long btw. the chapter where ishmael lists white things actually was#necessary because well it's about grief. can't forgive the bad whale facts though#i mean for the time maybe but there is no justification for them they're just extremely funny
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neil-gaiman · 5 months
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Id like to let you know that I recently lost my annotated and very well-loved copy of Fragile Things in the San Diego Airport.
Rather, I lent it to a goth kid who'd been sitting next to me and wanted to know if I had an Android charger. I did. She plugged her phone in, and a pinhole light on the screen blinked into life. We both looked at the otherwise dead screen for a moment, and I asked her where she was flying to. New York, she said.
Then she asked me what book I was reading - Fragile Things, I told her, by the same guy who wrote Coraline. What's it *about*, though, she asked again.
Im at best a mediocre writer, so I rather gave her the book than trying to explain things myself. I figure some folks get Hugos for writing stories, and I should let 'em do it.
She didnt seem to mind my scribbles in the margins, and it was fun, watching a painted face that looked so somber and serious just a few minutes ago smile. A Study in Emerald had its surprising share of humour. After a while, I stopped paying attention and scrolled absentmindedly through my phone.
Then I hear my flight called - San Diego to Philadelphia, the boarding now, group C, C as in Coconut. I grab my bag, my phone, my ticket, pat my pockets down for my passport, my overstuffed backpack, precariously balanced on my carryon luggage, my headphone wires tangled in the strap of my purse and jerked out of my ears. I trot hastily over to the gate check - a smile, a beep, and I'm shuffled down the gangway and into the plane. My things stowed, and myself cozy against the window.
This was when I went to reach for my book, and realised that it was missing - still nestled comfortably in the hands of a 15-odd goth.
I miss my book. It had many memories in it, beyond the stories told there. My grandfather was still alive when i first read Fragile Things, and he was the one who gave it to me. But I hope that the kid who has it now will also love the stories you wrote. I hope maybe she will remember me and our little story, that we now share. Maybe she will also keep other memories of her own in there.
It seems an oddly fitting way for me to part with this book. It was an old fragile thing, given to me by a fragile man, and left to a child with whom i had only a fragile, tenuous connection.
Or maybe I'm reading too much into things, i don't know.
At any rate, if you read all this rambling, thank you mister Gaiman.
I hope it was the book she needed.
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valsdelulucorner · 1 month
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obey me headcannons because why not
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Lucifer is so strict with his brothers because he doesn't want what happened to Lilith to happen to them, he cant bare to loose another sibling. His back is also extremely fucked over from his massive workload and from when he lost afew of his wings, his wing bones were connected to his spine so when he lost those, his back has never truly been the same.
Mammon is actually alot smarter then people think, this man is a absolute legend at counting, multiplying and maths. He may be dense and stupid at times but the mans a legend at math, i like the idea that if your studying with him he helps you out with maths, feeling smug and proud when he helps you get answers right. I also like the idea that he has many piercing holes but is just not bothered to more then two in at a time, if its a fancy event or if its a club event, he'll put more in
Levi is either scrawny or has some chub, you cannot change my mind. The only exercise he gets is chasing mammon around or running around for events. That man survives off of energy drinks and sugary foods, i cant seeing him having full blown rock hard abs, maybe some, but not rock hard abs like beel. I also like the headcannon that he has scales around his neck, cheeks and forehead, another reason he has his fringe covering his eyes.
Satan has alot of scars and scratches on his hands from punching walls, attempting to pet wild kitties and from other things to get his anger out. I feel like when Asmo come in to redo Satan's nails, he draws over the little scars with pen, making them into little flowers or hearts
Asmo has dry skin around his nose from how much moisture he normally has on his face thanks to face masks, skin care and make up. The buildup of all of the produce and the fact there is almost always something on his face has left his skin a little dry to his liking so he adds more product to fix it. I also love thinking about how asmo probably has some faint freckles over his shoulders and nose but he normally hides them, he doesn't want to be seen as anything but perfect.
Beel is not a child so people should stop treating him like one, he has sworn, he has killed and eaten people before, he is a 1000+ year old demon who has seen some shit go down, people should stop infantizing him. Beel has stretch marks around his torso and arms, from constantly working out to eating half of devildom, i feel like his body changes rapidly due to his diet and his working out. He also has matching bracelets with Belphie, his one has a charm of the sun.
Belphie is either dead quite or the loudest snorer, there is no in-between. He could probably be so quite that his brothers loose him for a good day or two, when they think they've checked everywhere belphie starts snoring, leading them straight to him. He also sleeps in the most random spots aswell, next to the potted plant, standing in the middle of the corridor, behind the door, you name it. When this man is tired and done for the day, he will find a way to sleep.
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5th time saying im back but its been a busy week, exams have been kicking my ass rn, not to mention I have a biology exam tomorrow morning so yay, fun times
I havent done this in a while, im starting to get back into the groove of things lol
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supremeshrimpy · 8 months
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please don't leave me again
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Request: Hello! can you write reuniting with them after months/years due to work/curses/ or anything! (up to you!) with seperate! lilia, jade, azul, floyd, and leona? (atp im just desperate for content for the aforementioned characters badly) 
-Anon
Summary: stay a bit longer, it’s been so long! Just…don’t leave them again…
Characters: Lillia Vanrouge, Jade Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Leona Kingscholar 
A/N: damn a 18 month hiatus is crazy huh… Also, I didn’t feel like writing a Floyd one because I’m a tired senior 
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Lillia Vanrouge (Curse): 
Sometimes, when he closes his eyes at night, he sees you smiling at him in a field of flowers. Euphoria. Other times, he sees you lying motionless in his arms, he can still smell the toxin on your lips. He remembers everything so vividly, the way your hair shaped your cold face as he laid your body in your glass tomb. Still, hundreds of years later, he remembers his promise to you.
“For as long as my heart beats,” he whispered, “I will be restless in bringing you back to me, my love.”
So when he received a letter that you had awoken, he was overcome with emotions. As he flew back to the Valley of Thorns, he was angry at himself for missing the moment as your eyes reopened but so fucking excited to feel his cold skin against your warm self again. 
They moved you to our old room in the palace, everything was the same but so much time had passed. It had been so long since…everything. You can’t walk, you can barely talk, and all basic movements feel like challenges. Everybody that you once sat around a table and laughed with was now long dead. 
You were left to ponder how you could even exist in this new world. Everything you knew was gone, friends, family, and…oh no. What became of your dearest, Lillia? Did he go out as a war hero or as a criminal? Did he live to…find someone new and start a family? 
This was all too much, you can’t take the thought. Everything is too much, you just wish that you could close your eyes and go back to the ways things were. 
The door to your room slammed open and there stood a panting, young man. Why does he look so familiar? 
“You’re…this…by the Dark- you’re awake…,” even with his stammers he sounded a lot like someone you once knew. A certain someone who you shared a final memory with. 
“...Lillia,” your question comes out like a whisper as if it was taboo. Before you knew it Lillia had dropped to his knees in front of you. 
“YE-yes it’s me, my love,” he corrects his voice just as quickly as it came out. His head dropped on your lap; he wanted to feel your skin on his, “please, let’s allow me to stay like this for a bit….” 
Jade Leech (Moving Away):
His last memory of you was when you were both seven years old, Jade was clinging to your tail. He was sobbing and screeching for you not to move away. He remembers your parents dragging you away as his parents held him back, your figure slowly fading in with the bubbles. He hasn’t seen you since, so imagine his surprise when he receives a letter from his parents saying your family has moved back along with a photo of you. 
He’s never been so excited to go home for spring break, you’re back…you’re home. And here he is stuck at school while you're just a dive away. As he tried to focus on his studies, you were now permanently stuck in the back of his head. The photo of you sits on his desk, a beacon of what waits for him after midterms. 
“You seem unusually happy, Jade,” Azul says as stands in the doorway watching Jade pack his bag, “is it because they’re back?” 
Jade snickers as the thought of seeing you once again fills his brain, but this meeting won’t be the same. You and him aren’t the same people as you were 10 years ago. He’s so excited to see how you’ve blossomed in the time you were away from each other.
Jade couldn’t contain his smile when he saw you waiting on the other side of the mirror. He would have been the first to greet you if it wasn’t for Floyd jumping you into a surprise hug. Once Floyd was finally off of you, Jade was finally able to speak to you once again. 
“It’s good to see you again Jade,” you smile at him oh-so softly, “I’ve missed you.” You’re so fucking gorgeous, you look so different than the last time he saw you. 
“Now, don’t you look breathtaking,” Jade smiles, corking his head to the side. You don’t even know that your small giggles make his heart do flips. 
“Now tell me, Jade,” you say, swimming ever so close to him, “what have you been up to while I was away? “
Azul Ashengrotto (Different Schools) 
Azul loves the school’s open cultural festival for several reasons. One, the Monstro Lounge does wonderfully during the three days that the event is taking place. Nothing screams profit quite like parents wanting a quiet, relaxing place to lecture their kids about their grades. 
And that plays into his second reason too well, kids will do anything to get rid of their parents for a few hours. The contracts just keep rolling in for Azul as these kids sell themselves to him just to keep their parents busy and away from them. 
As the Octavinelle student mans the lounge, Azul is left in his office. His leg bounced anxiously for his third reason to love the school festival to arrive. Parents aren’t the only crowd the cultural festival attracts, students from other schools flock to see the wonders that Night Raven College has to offer. 
Oh, how Azul misses you. He misses the way you smile, the way you shake your hands when you get excited, the way your lips…god. He misses you so bad. With a huff, Azul brushes his hair out of his face and fixes his glasses to check his phone. 
“I’m so lost right now, I can’t believe your school is this big”
“Wait…”
“Nevermind I found the Portal room, see you soon”
Is it normal to be sweating this much, it's only been a few months since he last saw you in person, only a few days since you last talked on the phone, and only a few seconds since you last texted. He can’t honestly be this nervous to see you again. What happened to cool, suave businessman Azul? The Azul that can smoothly talk his way into the best outcomes for himself. Who is this nervous mess?
“YOOOOO! AZULLLLLL,” the door slams open, with no regard for Azul’s privacy
Damn it, Floyd…
“Floyd, what have we discussed about knocking before opening the door,” Azul grits through his teeth while fixing his crooked glasses. Floyd gives nothing more than a shrug before leaving the room. 
“It’s nice to see you again too, Azul,” you pout mischievously, fanning offense that your dearest octo hasn’t greeted you. 
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, why don’t you close the door so we may have some privacy while we…chat.”
Leona Kingscholar (Lost Contact)
Leona is a lot of things; smart, cunning, handsome, regal, but if there's one thing he isn't, it's communicative. This man can not keep a relationship running for the life of him. If you aren’t in front of him every day, Leona will just forget you exist. He doesn’t think anyone is deserving of constant contact with him. 
They should be the ones to reach out to him, not the other way around. So when your letters stopped coming in, he was…surprised. You have always carried the conversation in your guy’s relationship so for you to suddenly stop is out of the normal. 
Are you angry with him? Have you found someone else more worth your time?
Impossible there is no one more worth your time than the Leona Kingscholar. You must have forgotten to mail your letter in or the post must have lost it. He’ll have Ruggie go check your letter tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that until you come to your senses and mail that damn thing.
One, Two, Three damn weeks and no letter from you at all. As much as Leona thinks that it doesn’t affect him, the members can tell he’s irritated. If you ask Ruggie, he’ll say he’s seen Leona writing something at his desk and then immediately turning it to dust when he notices Ruggie’s in the room.
Oh, but Ruggie knew everything, he knew that if you stopped writing Leona he’d fall into such disarray. As much as Leon will deny it, Leona adores your letters and keeps them safely stored away in his desk for his eyes only. Ruggie’s been secretly keeping the letter you’ve been sending just to see how long it would take for Leona’s pride to break for you. 
Three and a half weeks is all it took. 
Leona catches Ruggie in the early morning (a time Ruggie thought Leona would never be up at) and hands him a neatly wax-sealed letter and simply instructs him to “make sure this makes it where it needs to go.” He also hands Ruggie a 5,000 Grimm bill and walks away. 
You bet your sorry ass Ruggie hauled him to the post to deliver the letter. 
And just like that, communication between you and Leona continued. And if you squint real hard, you can even see the faintest of smiles when he receives a new letter from you. 
He can’t wait for spring break.
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snivyartjpeg · 4 months
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Yuma Month Day 26 - Role Swap
god i was excited for this one. it first started off as a joke, but the more i thought about it, the more interesting this swap became. so here's my massive lore dump of changes that'd happen in the story beneath the cut (spoiler warning):
i think, fundamentally, yuma and yakou are very similar characters. they're both very protective and kindhearted, with a strong sense of justice and a penchant for attracting terrible luck. because of this, some things would remain the same, such as the NDA's dynamics with their doormat chief as well amnesia!yakou's massive unpaid intern energy. i think yakou would be pretty similar to how he behaved in the light novel- a bit more optimistic and naive, like yuma. but there are two key differences between them that'd make this a different story, especially in ch 4: yuma has a forte, and yakou is very selfish. so here's some changes:
yakou's wife is his shinigami now, as you can see, while shinigami is yuma's dead wife. i think mrs furio would act cooler than shinigami. she'd still be playful, but she takes her job more seriously. also she hands yakou the solution keys normally without throwing up. they still have to do the dance and mouth sword thing tho. and the other stuff. that's just death god protocol
shinigami (or in this case the unnamed Mrs. Kokohead but i will still be calling her shinigami for convenience sake) was a scientist at amaterasu who studied forensics and thanatology instead of regenerative medicine. this also means that the pill she gives zombie yuma is not going to bring him back, but instead grant the zombie homunculi a peaceful, painless, but permanent death
speaking of zombie yuma, he's the homunculus now! yakou is 100% human and also doesnt have a forte. he's still number one, but instead of having a forte he's just that good at solving mysteries
yes this means makoto looks like yakou now. sorry makotoheads. i think he'd have really long, shaggy hair dyed to be like. idk. black or something. also he's more clean shaven bc stubble with a mask on is a sensory nightmare
yuma still cant cook. he subsists entirely on takeout, meat buns, black coffee, and beer. he's still in a lot of debt and under a lot of stress and his personality is essentially "what if canon number one just gave up"
he doesn't smoke though. he tried once and got into the worst coughing fit
imma say it right now. kurumi is not a love interest. yakou likely disguises himself as a faculty member instead (also i think one of the teachers gets a crush on fem yakou bc i just know she'd be hot)
ANYWAY what about chapter 4? im SO glad you asked! because here's where things get spicy!
so, lets start with the dead wife. shinigami catches onto huesca's inhumane research and she's just as adamant about bringing the truth to light as she always is. she blows the whistle, so he blows her up. yuma investigates, but they dont let him look any further, yada yada, yuma stews in his misery for five years
yomi sends in the evidence to motivate yuma to kill huesca, and makoto lets it happen because a dead huesca would be convenient. he even introduces the hitman, fully expecting yuma to make use of him
yuma doesnt. in fact, he wants to kill huesca with his own hands. and now that these detectives are here, he can do it and even return alive. the thing is, he doesn't want to put them in danger, so he chooses to do almost everything alone (sound familiar?)
his plan is simple:
ask desuhiko for a peacekeeper uniform. desuhiko trusts him enough to take "i want to investigate kanai ward's ultimate secret by infiltrating their ranks" as an answer. he does, however, let yakou know about this as an offhand comment before the mystery ever begins
hold fubuki's hand. it doesnt really matter how. she'll gladly allow it because she's fubuki. he stores her time powers and heads out the sub. yakou also learns this as an offhand comment played off as a joke (maybe fubuki affectionately comments about how she never expected the chief's hands to be so soft... idk. there has to be some way for yakou to have this as a future clue)
use his peacekeeper status to sneak into amaterasu HQ and demand a functioning ama-pal from that one creepy researcher
use ama-pal + fubuki's borrowed powers to bypass huesca's security. sneak the bot past the hard-of-hearing doctor and press the button to shut off security
this would probably alert huesca, but since the doctor never received a warning, yuma has enough time to rush in and stab him before he realizes what's going on
leave HQ while still in uniform, dispose of the disguise once he's safe, and return to the NDA like nothing happened. success!
soooo.... yakou, on that same day, decides to investigate amaterasu HQ with makoto
all the while, vivia has his suspicions about yuma's actions and keeps an eye on him in spectral mode. he... basically witnessed the whole thing, so he gets up off his ass and decides to follow yakou to the lab because he has a Very Bad Feeling about this
just like canon, he senses the death god and deduces that our protag has been killing off murderers, and so he wants to protect his chief as well as his peace and quiet (his dynamic with yuma would be the same as his dynamic with yakou, since it's entirely believable for yuma to treat vivia with the same kindness yakou did)
yakou tries to speak to huesca, but surprise! security is disabled and he's dead in the lab! no one else at amaterasu liked huesca enough to check on him, so yakou and makoto are the first ones at the scene of the crime. yakou, of course, decides to start investigating this murder
vivia somehow sneaks into the lab (dont ask me how) and confronts yakou, threatening him with his boxcutter and adamantly imploring him to stop pursuing this particular mystery in the same way he did yuma in canon. unfortunately, this attracts attention, and now they're in trouble (maybe even yomi's there to fetch his files). at this point, yakou has enough solution keys, so he panics and goes right into the labyrinth (and maybe others can enter for another reason that isnt coalescence idk)
so... they go in the labyrinth... vivia tries to stop him every step of the way, until the answer is right in front of them
yakou kills yuma with his own hands. there's no stab wounds or toxic gas to leave any doubt. yakou begins to question what good his justice really does. it doesnt even save them from their predicament, just like the other deaths. instead, makoto ex machina comes in to save them, and hands yakou a small black box
when they return to the agency, everyone is heartbroken over their chief, who seemingly died out of nowhere. fubuki tried rewinding time, but to no avail. halara tried everything to wake him up, knowing it's futile. desuhiko stood aside, feeling completely helpless. and yakou and vivia return looking like they just came back from hell
they barely get the chance for a funeral before the knockout gas trap activates... you know the rest
AAAAND SCENE! so that's my extremely long winded lore dump about this au. i thought about it Way Too Much but god it's so interesting to me. i love these characters and swapping them was immensely fun
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feelingthedisaster · 5 months
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so, me and my mom's bonding activity is to watch shows together, so this means i get to hear her live commentary and opinions. i made a list of my favourites
(disclaimer: this doesnt mean i agree/support what she said)
she talked about jared padalacki and jensen ackles's hotness through supernatural, but not like who's hotter or aged like wine/aged badly, she talked about it in an analytical sense: how the producers used their physical attributes for views and how it changed their portrait as the fans reacted/the actores aged (she says sam started as the 'pretty boy' of the show but as it progressed it stopped)
she insists the actor of eddie was going through some health issues during the filming of season six of 911. her reasoning is that they didnt show his abs as much as they did in the previus seasons so they were covering something up (yep, she went "im not seeing my regular order of firefighter abs, something is wrong")
on the same lane, she also says he got better bc they did show his abs more in season 7
"is this by netflix, right? the intros are all the same"
she diagnosed castiel with autism (she is a psychologist btw)
intense staring at me when rosa diaz came out as bi (which i obviusly ignored)
*watching the harry styles fanfiction movie* me: "dont you ever do that to me" / her: "all your faves are dead"
a lot of complains about the recycling and predictability of the plot of supernatural
an incredible awkard car conversation about lockwood's survivor guilt (we googled his backstory) as the reason of his reckless/almost suicidal actions [she clearly did not want to add to the conversation but i guess the psychologist in her had to]
spn s8, aaron flirting with dean scene "they are making dean gay, arent they?" (didnt tell her anything, there some things you gotta let them figure out on their own)
*edwin payne exists* "well, that's a repressed gay"
[context: we watch shows in english with english subtitles but we are not from a english speaking country, she learned english when she was young and i currently go to classes] me: "i dont need to study for the english test i have tomorrow, i just need to watch one more episode. in fact, tv is actively studying for the listening comphrension part" / her: "right, then im not procrastinating work, im just helping my daughter study for her test then" / "right" / "right"
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lbcreations-blog · 8 months
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Emily x an immortal reader soulmate au
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Not proofread, I'm way too tired, and this took forever to make with my writersblock
Also, should I do more Emily x reader? And possibly do some Sera x readers as well? Or?
Masterlist
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In this universe, everyone had a soulmate, sometimes more than one. And to know who your soulmate is, you would need the same tattoo that was placed on your shoulder.
You, a simple human who was cursed with immortality, had not found the one you love.
Then again, you have only been on earth for about 24 years. The only reason you knew you were immortal was because you fell off a skyscraper and lived with only a few scratches.
But to say the least, you were worried your soulmate or soulmates would be simply mortaliezed.
Now we turn to Emily, a seraphim who was given a mission to come to earth to collect your human soul, to come to heaven, and reside there due to you being registered as dead and being on heavens list.
Emily went into the portal that was shown to her after being instructed on her mission. Once entering the human world, she put on her human form to go find your soul, which she assumed was just floating around.
Now back to you, who was at an internet café studying for your college test that was coming soon. After a while, your eyes started to get sore, so you decided to look away from your computer for a few seconds to give your eyes a break. And when doing so, you saw a woman walk through the café door, and you knew she just looked stunning and you had to introduce yourself.
And lucky you, she was walking just your way!
But before you could say anything, she spoke to you. "Hi, my name is Emily, but you can call me Em or Eme. uhm, your name is reader? Yes?
What. The. Fuck? How does she know your name?
"Yea, hi. Emily. H-how. How do you know my name?" You asked her, a bit creaped out. "May I sit here?" She asked, ignoring your question. You agreed, wanting to figure out how she knew your name, even though you were pretty freaked out.
"Sooooooo," you started. "How do you know my name?" She then responded,"Will it explain myself if I told you I knew you were dead? or well immortal from what i can see." She asked.
"What?" You whispered,"I sai-" "no, how do you know this?" You asked, interrupting her. "Well i-" "Wait, no. Let me pay for my stuff and we can talk about this at my place." You told her, putting your hand up so you could tell the waiter that you were ready to pay.
Once paying, you left the café with Emily and took a two minute walk to your home. while walking home, Emily talked your ear off about things she likes. Yes, it was annoying, but you enjoyed it in some way, You weren't sure why, but you tried not to question it.
Once you got into your home, Emily immediately complemented it. You thanked her and told her to follow you to your lounge. Once in your lounge, you both sat down on your couch, and you asked your first question.
"How do you know im immortal?" You asked. "Well, you see, I'm a Seraphim from heaven," your jaw dropped. Emily continued, "And well, I got a mission to come down here and bring you to heaven because you were registered as dead, and you are on our list," Emily told you simply.
"I-" you started. "Give me a few seconds to process this Em," you told her as you got up and went to your room to think.
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You walked back into the lounge and sat down on the couch. "So... you were told to take me to heaven because you were told I'm registered as dead?" You asked."Yes, I was told to do that" Emily told you.
"Can I not go? I like it here on earth, and i still wanna meet my soul mate." You told Emily. "No, I don't think so... but I can see if I can convince Sera, " Emily told you. "Yea sure, thank you Em"
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It was the next day. You were jalaxing on your bed, scrolling through tiktok when a bright light went into your room. You closed your eyes until you felt the bright light go away.
Then you saw Emily in angel form looking beautiful. "Oh hey there, Emily, so what did Sera say?" You asked her "well reader i-i tried to convince Sera, but. She said no. She said it was- "what? B-but Emily, I like it here!" You started tearing up, being passionate for where you live.
"What about my soulmate?! I'm just never going to meet them?! I want to at least let them know I love them!" You told her passionately "well they might end up going to heaven- "no! No, that's a might! I just want to meet them once! Atleast!" You told her tears falling down your cheeks alot of emotions spilled.
"Ugh, get out of my room Em" you told her, hugging your torso. "I- ok then." Emily then walks out of the room.
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Emily sat on your couch, feeling sad that she could not convince Sera to let you stay on earth and upsetting you. She felt that you should be happy.
After a few more minutes of Emily sitting on your couch and thinking, you walked into the lounge without the hoody that you always wore, or at least around Emily (Which makes sense since you've only known each other less then a day if you put all the hours together) you were now wearing your black tank top due to it being hot.
You then sat down on the couch and looked at the floor. "So... I'm sorry for shouting at ya Emily, " you told her."I was angry and just really emotional, you did not deserve that, I hope you can forgive me, I know you were just doing your job, im sorry." You said you continued to look at the floor anticipating for her answer.
After about 30 seconds, you looked at Emily and saw her jaw was dropped. "Em?.. Emily?" Emily slowly brought her hand to her sleeve and brought it up to reveal her soulmate mark.
You were. Shocked, to say the least.
"Your. My soulmate, " you said in shock
Your body suddenly moved on its on and you passionately kissed her. Emily kissed back. "I guess I would not mind going to heaven with you, Eme," you told her.
Well uhhmmmm
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Hope yall enjoyed it
-L.B Creations
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rrylies · 10 months
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altan isn't a violent person at his core it was just what other people have always seen him as because he's speerly, and for some reason the speerlies have a savage connotation when we have no proof that they were actually animals in the sense that other people keep describing them as. im sure that we only get the savage speerly stereotype because as a people, they were fundamentally different from the nikara and the mugenese. and since they were all (mostly) dead at the start of book one, who was going to negate all of these stereotypes? no one. (i could go on about how altan was slapped with the "last speerly" moniker when in reality he probably remembers very little about his culture and what speer was like before all of the war and the death but that's for another time <3)
even back in his days of sinegard altan isnt depicted as a particularly violent person, though he's placed in violent events. like in the fighting pits at night altan is pitted up against his peers who want to fight him at a chance at victory, to prove that they've won a battle against the last speerly and we have no idea if altan actually wants to fight them or if he's forced to (iirc it's highly suggested that irjah baits him into fighting by promising him opium if he wins, and he will, because he always does) (although that could've just been nezha being a dick) and even though altan shows no signs of violence or aggression (he's always depicted as calm, stoic, etc) he's always painted as something less than human, an animal simply because ??? he wins their fights? as if that's not something he's expected to do in the first place. ("how did he do that? isn't he human?" "he isn't, he's speerly" this quote. ARGHARAGH RABAN ILY BUT SHUT UPPP)
and back to the stereotypes of speerlies and why they're painted as rabid animals even though there's no proof that they are. the main thing i can think of rn is how the federation (+ the mugenese) think of them simultaneously as something divine and to be studied but also as these rabid beasts at the same time. like the federation soldiers are clearly afraid of fire / the speerlies (i have a separate hc that their culture has something to do with this but that is also for another time <3) shiro mentions how precious and important the speerlies are (and yet his people bombed altan's? ://) while taking every opportunity he can to pick altan apart. then people wonder why altan's vicious towards the federation and hates them with every fiber of his being and why he has so much pent-up anger within him and it's like, hello?? they took him captive when he was a child, and sent him to the laboratory with shiro where he would spend half of his life being cut open and dissected, injected with opium time and time again, forced to watch his people die off one by one without the knowledge that he was the last until after he'd been rescued. (this still gets me btw no im not in tears) and then even when he's out, his suffering isn't over, (it's never over lets be real) because he's shipped off to sinegard academy where he'll be surrounded by so many different conflicting stereotypes (the nikara think he's an animal because he's speerly but shiro thought he was amazing because he was speerly, because of his connection to the phoenix) and really, he's not violent, not at his core, but i cant imagine the inner turmoil altan went through his first few years out of the lab + his first year at sinegard where he was the only one who was different (and also fighting an opium addiction at the same time and people belittle him over this when it literally wasn't his fault)
like altan was not violent. he was calm and he had his moments of peace, but ultimately because of everything that had happened to him (cough. shiro u motherfucker), the violence was forced out of him and became all he knew ("chaghan said they trained you like a dog at the academy" ://) and he literally didn't know any better, he was failed by every single person who should have helped him. (never getting over this btw)
yin riga, a man who he trusted, sent him away to shiro. (will never not think of how much little five year old altan trusted riga and then. well.) jiang, who was supposed to help him with his connection to the phoenix, shunned him. irjah, who was his supposed caretaker, who only fed his opium addiction in order to control him, just like how shiro did, just like how the nikara did to the speerlies (parallels. yaaay.)
in the end altan trengsin wasn't a violent person, but it was all anyone wanted to see. it was all anyone would remember him by.
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I KINDA HAD THE SAME IDEA with the low honor high honor thing! Im currently figuring exactly in what way the story would change [granted it does involve one of my ocs so maybe a lot more than it should] but its fun to think in what way Micah would be 'better' or more loyal to the gang
I feel like he'd still pick fights in camp, but like in a way older siblings would. Its more teasing/bullying and shit instead of straight up slurs. Idk, might just be me NNXJXJC
I also think he wouldn't go out of his way to help someone if they asked him to, but he'd watch them continue to struggle with mayne like a gun to the point where he like has to get up and be like 'OKAY you are so pathetically shit at this - im going to show you how to do this and we're not taking a break until you shoot 3 targets in a row' or something
I dont think he'd willingly be vulnerable anytime soon based on his upbringing and shit, but iiii like to think it happens sometimes accidentally idk JXJXJC
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Weep weep weep this is making me wanna explore what RDR2 would be like if Micah was a marginally better person (mainly what id he never ratted).
i am glad we have converging ideas when it comes to high honor micah! I’ve talked with mutuals before on wtf micah could do that could be considered high honor, and we came up with little. One idea i suggested is that he accidentally saved people)s lives through his own selfishness (ex: saves someone from rabid dog because “if i didnt kill it, it would have gone for me next.”)
Micah's high honor is selfish in a unique way compared to low honor. Instead of focusing on himself and his survival, it more becomes a common goal to keep the gang as a whole surviving. He is no hunter, but he can bring in money and be a daaaaaamn good shot. Guard duties are often reserved for Lenny and Sean and Charles and whoever else is free. Micah *can* go on guard duty but keeps himself out of that tiresome job by being out of camp and bringing in money. “Sorry, can’t got on guard duty, I just got back from a stage coach robbery and I want to enjoy my well deserved relaxation.”
he is still a snarky sounding piece of shit, but like you said, he is less of a full on hateful man. He is still a sly, observing snake and studies the flaws of his gang mates, but he keeps his fangs sheethed. The idea with the snake animal for high honor is that Micah is still as lethal and capable of assholery as he is in bad honor, he is just deciding to not. He holds his venom to be inflicted on those who the gang need (or want) dead. He also leans into the snake vibes by being a slimy slithering manipulator. He isn’t a charmer, but he has a skill for talking people long enough to get plans into action (or to just backstab the enemy).
i feel like Morgan would still dislike Micah for being a man with bad vibes. Morgan is also just a hater sometimes (look at how he perceives Kieran). Micah still murders and has bad plans like Blackwater so it’s not like Arthur has *no* reason to distrust Micah.
i imagine high honor micah makes an effort on occasion to be involved in camp socializing, Sean and Jack’s return for example. He mainly drinks and flirts with the girls and boys at the event.
and because i like the red vs blue honor color association of the game, Micah’s design would be a little different, making the blue in his design a little more present. A neckerchief is an example of blue, but i am sure more blue could be worked into his design somewhere. Idea is that the ratio of red to blue in character’s designs can allude to how honorable they are (though it is not a 1:1 visualization). I imagine Micah would be 1:3 blue to red. Maayyybe. One quarter an okay man, three quarters a pretty sleazy man.
micah is still deeply troubled soooo no sweetie pie vulnerability for him! At most he tries to flirt (like asking Mary-Beth to dance) and the people are 1-2% more polite about turning him down when he’s high honor. He’s still all alone and his prickly exterior deeps people at arms length from him. He is both deeply dependent on attaching himself to a gang/someone to follow (my hc), but he also aspires to be independent and run his own gang. I suppose in high honor, he hopes to earnestly stick with the VDL gang and rise in the ranks by impressing Dutch (because Dutch is kind of an easy man to impress when you bootlick).
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spacexseven · 2 years
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Thinking about a lil au idea of DOA or Rats of the House of the dead being basically your cult in the god reader idea.
Of course, the other “members” of the cult don’t see you in that much of a big light as Fyodor does (he’s the only one to be THAT devoted to you, really). But they are still members, and little by little they just
Start to like the idea wholeheartedly.
(I love the god reader idea so much it has me in a chokehold rn)
!! anime only's, you have been warned! the following includes spoilers for 2/3 of the unknown (as of now) members of the doa, and other stuff involving the doa.
i'm not writing for kamui 'cos this was a little long as it was. also am sticking w doa 'cos im more comfortable writing for nikolai, sigma and my little vampire rockstar :^^
cw: its kind of a cult, yandere themes (near the end)
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you had always known that the rats were only the beginning of fyodor's reign.
and maybe he knew that too—you could hear the soft smile in his voice when he asked you if you thought that the decay of the angel was a better-suited name for an organization that would carry out his plans and catalyze the great destruction you always said he would bring. you don't grace him with an answer, though even you have to agree that it was a name that, once uttered, could unsettle the bravest souls and fill them with trepidation. it was a fitting choice; symbolic, powerful, and ominous.
if anything, the other members were just as unpredictable and unnerving as fyodor was to you once. nikolai was the first you met. you later learned that he went against fyodor's words to come see you, seized by curiosity. bitterly, you realized that the reason why he stared at you so much was because he was studying you, like one would an insect. you almost wanted to seize some of that divine order you had and strike him down for being so blatant about his interest. but when you thought about how fyodor could never look you in the eyes, and how lonely it was as his god, you found yourself taking a liking to the eccentric clown.
there was a side to him, however, you're not sure you like at all. bloodied hands and a wicked grin to match, when anyone else seeks your time. fascination that was both lustful and violent in nature, and a possessive grip that didn't seem to let go of you.
"time for a quiz!" nikolai exclaims, "will the decay of the angel succeed?"
"of course," a wry smile plays at your lips, "who else has a god on their side?"
he laughs in response, loud and uninhibited. it's the most noise that's ever filled your room
sigma was a mystery that had too many missing pieces to be solved. a part of you could sympathize with him, having lost your own self to the blurred-together years and the exhaustion that came with being the only one with your level of sentience. however, you don't let yourself think about the book fyodor had used to create sigma, and what it meant to you. there are some things, you decide, that are best kept to yourself. some things that fyodor should never learn about.
sigma, in your first meeting, was slightly awkward; a perfectly natural response, but not in awe of your presence, not like fyodor. his voice was firm, but not unkind, and his words were respectful, but not...obedient. it was perfect.
in sigma, you found an unlikely friend. he told you about the mundane happenings in the outside world; a customer caught cheating, an employee that struggled to keep up, all the paperwork that was involved in the running of a casino in the sky. these things, as compared to your daily life, were nothing of the sort you would care about, but you listened all the same. regardless, you could tell sigma appreciated the sentiment.
you, however, don't appreciate his strange habits. recently, you think, he's been acting a little too much like fyodor. as much as you liked sigma for the natural ease that you felt by his presence, you couldn't brush off the ominous feeling that came with sigma seeking you out more and more. you start feeling like he's looking for validation of some kind from you, one you didn't wish to provide in fear that he may find this an encouragement. he reaches out for your hand often, something you might find amusing if not for the way his hand trembles.
"are you planning to leave?" nikolai, knowing the fool, must have said something to scare sigma.
"no," you say simply, "not yet."
"so you will leave," sigma frowns. you've seen that look directed to many a clumsy employee and messy files, but never to you. it's almost frightening, "don't you like it here?"
"besides, i..." he stops himself, "dostoevsky won't let you go. and...i don't want you to either. you should stay. we take care of you too, don't we?
unlike most people, you weren't surprised to see bram stoker. though in your memory, he was a lot more...whole and formidable of an opponent. more than that, you remembered him as a man turned into a monster that brought unimaginable destruction because of an ability he never asked for. it was a strange reminder of how much had really changed over the years. now, he seemed sullen, and defeated; it was a depressing sight.
now, he was exhausted. you could tell he didn't want to be here, with the decay of the angel. you could also tell that something was terribly wrong with the sword that was inside him and the pained look in his eyes. fyodor tells you of a kamui when he brings the coffin in, and just by the current state of bram and the utterance of his name, you know already you would not get along with him.
bram doesn't ask you questions, not about why you were here, or what you were doing for all those years. he doesn't explain his situation, and you don't pry. you can put the pieces together by yourself, and when it dawns on you what the kamui planned to do with bram, you realize that there were greater evils than fyodor.
there's a silent solidarity between you and bram, perhaps stemming from being something non-human. you get him the radio he's always wanted, insist that he be allowed to converse with you more often, and so on. these days, bram talks more, and it almost feels like you're talking to an old friend. bram's lived through some, though not most, of the things you have, and he remembers what nobody else does. you wonder, one day, if the two of you could have been friends had you met a lot earlier, and if you hadn't brushed off the news about the vampire ability user the first time. when you voice this out to him, bram has the most adorable reaction. your words make his eyes widen and, stupified, cause him to awkwardly change the topic, fumbling over his next few words.
ah, now you really wish you went to see him earlier.
it's that odd sensation of having a friend, caring for another, that urges you to offer your help to bram. you tell him you can get him out of here, out of the mortal angels' grasp; somewhere safe. you say you can help him regain his former state, help him survive within the shadows of humanity, like you had before. kamui, fyodor, or the doa; nothing will be able to stop you if you really wanted to make it happen, regardless of how complacent you were now.
at the very least, you thought, he might be pleased. grateful. maybe not elated, but, at the very least, relieved. instead, bram looked shocked. you can't tell if the idea horrifies him because he doesn't think you can do it, or because he believes that the decay of the angel was the only connection you had to him. perhaps he thought that saving him, freeing him, would also mean removing yourself from his life. you almost felt bad—you were very likely bram stoker's only friend in his miserable life.
still, you're not quite sure what to think when he extends his stay and starts contemplating, seriously, to cooperate with kamui. you can't wrap your mind around why he'd want to stay, and the possible loss of so many lives as a result unsettles you deeper than it does him, but he's steadfast in his decision. he tells you, with an unfamiliar tinge of scorn, that he was tired of trying to protect people, when all they did was try to kill him.
"if you're so sure, i suppose i'll have to stay here with you." concern weighs heavily on your mind, but more than that, suspicion lingers.
bram smiles, then, and seemingly relaxes in his coffin. an uncomfortable feeling seizes your chest. how had you not noticed?
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hazshit-hotel-hater · 5 months
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Could you talk about the designs Viv makes? I don't see many posts talking about this and I wanted some design tips, I intend to post my own cartoon designs (I just don't know when) and I wanted some tips <⁠(⁠ ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄⁠)⁠>
Hey hey!! Id love to talk about designs!
I actually answered this entire question and then uh…. Tumblr deleted my draft so let me try to redo all this lmao
Vivzie has a problem with bodytypes I’ve noticed. Almost all of her cast is insanely skinny and the only two “plus-size” characters I can think of are Millie and Mimzy. Meanwhile, Angel Dust, Vox, Stolas, & Alastor are a few very skinny characters I can think of off the top of my head.
For the best example, I’m going to be using Vox for now. Here is my Vox design next to his canon appearance
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They don’t look too different right? This is still easily identifiable as Vox because his main characteristics are there; stupid little hat, tv head, thats about it.
My design also keeps elements of his suit with the stripes and shoulder pads, though in my design his body is a bit wider and his shoulders + waist make him look more commanding and intimidating while still maintaining a sense of professionalism. As for his canon design, he definitely looks sketchy, but he doesn’t really give me that commanding sense of popularity or authority that I feel an overlord should have, especially one with such a wide range of influence as Vox. His canon design looks top heavy and a little pathetic in that “he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone” way. Don’t get me wrong, a small waist can do wonders for a design, but when your designs start to look like… this
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I think you might have a problem.
Now, I know I am nowhere near the best character designer in the world, but I have designed my fair share and I think I have enough experience to flatter myself a little.
This is a very simple design choice to make. Body types are probably some of the most intricate and interesting parts of a person in my opinion, and with a lineup like this where everyone looks more or lest the same from the torso down, it’s kind of a dead and sad looking cast, and not in the intended way.
I’m aware my designs are very detailed and wouldn’t be easy to animate with my style, but it’s very easy to draw extra body types with a style fit for TV.
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Gravity Falls is a great example of stylised bodies and also using them to build personality. By looking at these characters you can generally tell what their base personality is probably like right? You can do the same thing to an extent with the Hazbin Cast, but all of their designs get muddled into the other. Can you even tell where half of these people are positioned in this screenshot
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It’s so pink and red im going to start seeing green when I look away. There are so many colours, use them!!!! You can still slap a red overlay over it and make it “look like hell” or whatever, but you’re still gonna have more variety.
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Here’s my body/fur references for Angel and Husk. They are almost entirely opposite to eachother but you can probably get an idea for how they are based on colour and shape. I recommend studying other TV shows and things like anime or movies to see how body types and colours impact character design, but general things I always think of are, like I’ve said, body type, personality, colour, and silhouette. Silhouette is a bit harder to pin since a character can have a very recognizable silhouette and still not be a good design, but honestly to me as long as you can tell which character is which from silhouette you’re good to go on that front.
- Generally just don’t reuse the same colour palette over and over (heres some of my hazbin colours)
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- Give diversity in shapes when you can and when it benefits the design
- Try to show their personality through their clothes and pose
- Don’t be afraid to add little physical or personality details that other people might not notice, a good design should keep you interested in tiny details like that or surprise you later on
- Pay attention to what would and wouldn’t make sense (ex. A character that doesn’t like modern fashion wearing modern fashion)
Im not the best at explaining all of this but I hope you could grasp even just a tiny bit of an idea from this! At the end of the day as long as you’re having fun and not actively harming people with the designs then you should be good to go
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raynetheinsane · 6 months
Text
Batfam (and friends) as Henry Danger quotes
(Because im a nerd and love this show)
Damian: Tt, my parties arent that bad
Jon: Christmas. 3 years ago. 15 kids ended up in the hospital!
Damian: FATHER!!!
Tim: Damian! Were trying to study here *indicates to Duke and Steph, both clearly not studying*
Damian: I’m talking to my Father.
Robin!Jason: Dangit! All these jobs say i gotta have skills..
Dick: You have skills!
Jason: Name one.
Dick: You’re a great dancer!
Jason: No I’m not?
Dick: You could take lessons.
(More under the cut i just dont want this to be super duper long)
Bruce: How old are you?
Tim, trying to become robin: Im 13, I’ll be 14. On my next birthday
Dick: Ah so youre aging sequentially
Tim, extremely tired: Do you ever dream about sleeping?
Steph, extremely confused:…no??
Tim: good. If you did youd be dead.
Bruce: Lets ride.
Robin!Jason who is very new to this: Wha- Ride where?
Bruce: We’ve got people in the Jandy River that need saving.
Bruce: Come on.
Jason: You mean we’re going there? Together? Like right now?
Tim, extremely dirty and has a cut on his face walking into Drake Manor:
Jack, not paying attention: Hey Tim, did you get the job?
Tim: Yeah, just finished my first day.
Jack: So hows work?
Tim: Uh it was pretty… interesting.
Bernard: Hey, you never told us what you do at your new job
Tim: *just stares wide eyed silently*
Bruce: While we were patrolling, Poison Ivy stole packs of baby bottles, can you guess why?
Robin!Dick: Uhhh
Bruce: To flood the bottles with radioactive plant matter.
Dick: I would not have guessed that.
Jason: I see youre in your pajama pants.
Tim: Yeah its almost midnight, I was studying for this test i have tomorrow
Jason: What subject?
Tim: Puerto Rican history
Jason: Ah Puerto Rico… land of…
Tim: Puerto Ricans?
Jason: yeah..
Red Hood: Strike three.
Spoiler: That was only 2
Hood: Okay, don’t correct me in front of the criminals
Duke: Whats in the mug?
Tim, who just poured himself and entire pot of coffee despite hating it: Coffee.
Tim: To keep me alive.
Duke: no, no, no, no, you cannot drink this much coffee after work. This mug is comedically large!
Steph: I have the same dream all the time. It satrts with me getting a horse for my birthday. Then my dad shows up. Then the horse kicks my dad in the face!
Jason, helping Tim study: You want a good grade on your puerto rican math test?
Tim: history
Jason, who died before he finished highschool: Same thing
Non-Bat who needs the antidote for Joker gas or something: Will this hurt?
Black Bat: Yes, very much.
Bernard, talking about a criminal the Bats cant catch: Its not Batmans fault, he just needs a better sidekick
Tim: One more time.
Bernard, who knows: Just saying, I’d be way better at catching criminals than the current Robin
Dick: I’m gonna die..
Jason: Not in the house. If you’re gonna die, do it outside
Tim: I’m Robin.
Bernard: I know. I figured that out.
Damian: Todd, I wish to speak to you about something.
Jason: BABIES COME FROM THE BABY STORE
Oracle: Steph, come to Gotham Park right now!
Steph: noo, I’m not in the mood for trees
Oracle: did i ask you what youre in the mood for?
Vikki Vale: So, Spoiler, how did you catch Two Face?
Spoiler: I’d love to take all the credit, but it was really all thanks to my partner, Black Bat.
Vikki: Interesting. Black Bat, can you tell us more?
Black Bat: No.
It really bothers me the lack of Babs, Cass, and Duke worthy quotes there are 😔😔 also my personal favs show a lot and im sorry for that, but there will be more as i think of them, these are just eps 1-4, the rest will be posted like in a queue or something and as single quotes cus im eepy
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hualianisms · 4 months
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🍉Fics for Gaza
Inspired by the fan Gotchas for Gaza and @ficsforgaza, i (ao3 user namelessflower) will be joining @ficsforgaza's initiative where fic writers write fics in exchange for proofs of donation to valid Palestinian fundraisers.
I will be offering: Fics, poems about a character/pairing, or simple pfp icons/avatars of a character/pairing.
Fandoms available: any MXTX, JWQS, ORV, JJK, Genshin, RGU and more (see full list here).
HOW IT WORKS:
1. DONATE to any verified Palestinian fundraiser from this list: GazaFunds, Gaza Municipality's water campaign, eSIMS for Gaza (or Crips for Esims for Gaza).
I will also accept donations to Sudan (Khartoum Aid Kitchen), separate from @ficsforgaza's initiative.
2. DM me PROOF OF YOUR DONATION - a screenshot of your donation receipt or confirmation email (*please edit out your personal details e.g. full name, bank/credit card details!)
3. DM me YOUR PROMPT, specifying fic/poem/pfp, and any specific likes or dislikes/triggers/things you want me to avoid.
Limited to 3 slots for fics + 3 slots for poems + 5 pfp slots at a time.
(After I finish the first round of prompts, I'll open more slots later on when I have more time. I'll do my best to finish your prompt within a few weeks, but please be patient with me if I need more time and understand that longer fics may take 1-2 months as I am busy irl + writing for multiple Gotchas for Gaza at the same time🙇)
RULES:
I will do: sfw, nsfw*, canonverse, modern AU, canon divergent, other AUs, genderbend, character study, angst, fluff, humour/comedy, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, heavy angst
I will not do: dead dove, underage, incest, r*pe/noncon/dubcon, omegaverse, mpreg, or certain kinks that im not comfortable personally writing
(*note: Only adults (18 and above) can request nsfw. Minors cannot request nsfw. Please have your age somewhere in your bio/carrd or I will reject your nsfw request!)
FIC INFO:
for SFW: every $1 = at least 150 words, capped at ~3000 words (for me to avoid burnout)
for NSFW: every $1 = at least 100 words, capped at ~2500 words (for me to avoid burnout)
you may donate enough more for multiple prompts, but please specify how much is for which prompt (e.g. you can donate $15 for a 1000 word nsfw fic ($10) + a 750 word sfw fic ($5)
samples of my fics on my ao3
POEM INFO:
$5 = 1 poem (up to ~5 stanzas)
can be about a character/ship/platonic dynamic. see this page for the list of characters/pairings available
link to poem samples in this page
PFP/ICON/AVATAR INFO:
$1 = 1 pfp
any character from any fandom accepted so long as you are able to provide the picture/screencap you want made into an icon. pfps will be just the character + a pride flag background, plain color background, or gradient color background (specify what color/pride flag you want)
samples here
more info in my carrd here! please read everything carefully before requesting, thank you so much!
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gh0st-author · 6 months
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This love is alive, back from the dead
pairing: William James Moriarty x reader/oc
tags: hurt/comfort, angst but with a happy ending, usual soft William things
warnings: mentions of death (i mean Liam did try to delete himself from existence), mentions of grief and dealing with loss
A/N: im rereading the manga again and i had a LOT of feelings about the 3 year time skip and imaging all of the turmoil Liam's return would bring, so i whipped this up. i also had a lot of feelings for Louis, and i just know him and Liam's s/o would be besties. also im trying some new things, writing in third person and stuff, so this can be read either as a self insert or an oc ff.
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She could still hear the screams. Could still see both of them falling, as in slow motion, and disappearing beneath the waves and fire. She could smell the smoke and soot. Could still feel the same burning heartache and hollowness in her chest even after three years. Could still feel Louis' firm hand grabbing her shoulder and pulling her away, his own form trembling, his breathing erratic. The image was burned into her mind like a brand, tape playing in a loop over and over again like a nightmare from which she couldn't wake up. She was trapped. Some days she barely even felt alive. She felt like a ghost, a shell of her former self, only going through the motions, trying to just get through every day.
Nights were simultaneously the worst and the best part of her day. Every time she sank into the cold, empty sheets of her and William's bed, something in her chest cleaved, and a knife burrowed itself into her heart. And if by some miracle she was able to fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, it was accompanied by choking sobs and shuddering gasps. The bed was too cold, too empty. But at night at least she dreamed. She dreamed of him. Dreamed of his scarlet gaze, his scent, his touch, his voice. In her dreams she could love him again and enjoy a few blissful hours of ignorance before morning cruelly ripped her away into consciousness. She woke every morning with silent tears streaming down her face, his side of the bed cold and undisturbed, exactly like the rest of the room. She'd left it all the same as the day it all happened. All his papers were still strewn across his desk; she dared not disturb them lest she severed the last thread of hope pushing her forward, the silent voice whispering that he might come in any second to collect them and stew over them. His clothes were still in the closet, everything besides the coat, the hat, and the cane he took with him that day— those she missed the most, they were an integral part of him. His books on the shelves she dusted every day— after all, what if he came back and wanted to read them again? She had to. And anything else she couldn't keep in their room she left in his study, locked to anyone besides her and Louis.
Grief was a living thing eating her from the inside, almost as much as the rage. Those first few months were the worst. She screamed, cried, and cursed the heavens, herself, this wretched country, and anyone she could. She was so angry at everything, but mostly at him, for leaving her, for carving himself a place in her soul so thoroughly, then ripping himself away leaving a jagged wound left to fester and rot. She was furious with Sherlock, for promising her something he could not deliver. For dying with him, instead of saving him. For damning them both. But most of all she was empty. Numb. As if everything that was human and alive and good about her died on that day together with William.
With a blink, she ripped herself away from those thoughts, feeling cold droplets slide down her cheeks onto the papers below. It was not the time for nostalgia and melancholy. Wiping them away with a silent curse she inspected her work for any signs of smudging. None. Her handwriting was neat and precise as always, detailing all of the plans for the MI6's newest job. Doing this work helped. Sitting here in William's office and focusing her mind on the simple tasks in front of her helped her to not succumb to the gaping abyss of grief. Besides, without him here, someone had to document and keep everything in order.
There was a silent knock on the door and she turned around in the chair to see Louis entering with a tray. The sunlight from the window shone golden light onto his platinum hair, now pushed back and not hiding his scar anymore. His tired gaze met hers and she fought back the wave of sadness threatening to overwhelm her. They were so similar, him and William. Looking at him made her feel like she was looking at a distorted mirage of the past. She assumed he felt very much the same when he looked in the mirror. She wondered what he thought when he looked at her.
A kind of understanding had been built between them in these three years, a sort of bond forged in shared grief and pain. They both understood that William had tasked them with taking care of each other, his two closest. She genuinely believed he was the only one who truly understood her loss, and she his. It was true, that losing William indeed impacted everyone in the group, that they were all battling their pain in their own way, but she and Louis just felt it a little bit differently– a little bit more acutely. Albert, too, she assumed, but he wasn't here now.
"I brought you tea," he said gently, leaving it on the desk next to her papers.
She stretched in the chair, raising her arms above her head and nodding gratefully at him. "Thank you, Louis."
"Do try not to overwork yourself. My brother would have my head if he thought I haven't been taking care of you." He chuckled wryly, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were concerned and pleading. He was aware of her insomnia and her tendency to bury her raging storm of emotions in work. He never said so outright, but she noticed his subtle pleas for her to rest and the food he prepared for her to eat when she forgot. He noticed everything, much in the same way she noticed his sunken eyes on the days after a night plagued by nightmares not too different from her own.
"Don't worry, Louis. I am almost finished." She glanced down at the papers around her. "I just need to go over a couple of things."
He nodded and turned to leave. "We are having a meeting in the main lobby in ten minutes to finalize the plan. Join us if you can."
She hummed, still writing, without glancing at him. "I'll be right there."
Since Louis took over, their lobby had become sort of their main office, their base. They all gathered there on days when they had missions, holding their briefings and studying her documentation. As she made her way down the dark hallway and the stairs, she noticed more voices than usual inside the great room. Someone else was there. She sighed and resigned herself, squaring her shoulders before entering and sitting in her designated seat. Mycroft was present this time. In much the same way she could barely look at Louis some days, she avoided looking at Mycroft. He was a reminder to her of what she'd lost, of promises broken and grudges simmering beneath her skin. She'd trusted the Holmes', and look where it got her. He and his brother were responsible for separating the Moriartys, Albert now rotting in prison because of Mycroft, and William forever lost because of Sherlock. But now when she looked at him, worn down and silently fixing himself a cup of tea in the corner, she hated him a little less. He'd lost his brother, too. She understood that.
The meeting commenced immediately and she went over their mission with everyone. She was in the middle of explaining their escape route when there was a sound at the front door. Bond excused himself and went to check it out. She faintly heard him talking with someone and figured it was one of the others, not really paying attention. But then Bond shrieked and she heard Louis gasp out one word that made her blood freeze and head whip towards the door.
"Sh- Sherlock?!"
Sherlock stood at the entrance, ebony hair much longer than she remembered, the same mischievous grin on his face. He was speaking, but she couldn't hear a word he said, couldn't focus on what he said to Mycroft, couldn't comprehend any sound around her besides the rushing of blood in her ears. He's alive. Sherlock was alive. They survived. They came back. He kept his promise. But Liam ... Liam? Where is he? Why was Sherlock there and not Liam? Where is Liam? Liam. Liam. Liam. Every word was a painful beat of her heart. Her chest contracted painfully as she struggled to breathe, her gaze darting all around the room, searching for a trace of platinum hair behind Sherlock. Why wasn't he coming in? Surely he is there. He couldn't be– Not him. That would be unfair. Fate wouldn't save one and not save the other. It wouldn't be so cruel as to give her hope after so long, only to squash it immediately. She stood so abruptly that she knocked over the glasses on the table. Her vision dimmed as she hyperventilated, and she took a shuddering step towards him. Sherlock looked rightfully taken aback when she focused her glare on him. "Where is he?" She choked on the last word but barged forward. "Why isn't he here? Why did you come back alone? WHE-"
A firm hand on her shoulder halted her movements and the barrage of questions. She finally took a deep breath and glanced at Louis, stone-faced beside her. His hand squeezed, telling her to breathe and calm down, but she could feel him shaking. His unreadable gaze was staring directly at Sherlock. "That day..." He swallowed. "You fell with William into the Thames, and now you're the only one standing in front of us." His gaze sharpened. "Can you please explain yourself?"
She glanced back to the man in question. She noticed now that he looked more worn out, or maybe that was because of the pitying glance he shot her way, a tortured sigh wrenching itself from deep within his chest. He brushed a hand through his hair, something he did whenever he was uncomfortable. "That time, when Liam and I fell, considering the height of the bridge our chances of survival were half at best. I held him in my arms and tried to protect him the best I could." He looked straight into her eyes as he said that as if to make her believe him. To say that he really tried. Maybe he felt her resentment, her grudge. "We lost consciousness, and before I knew it, I woke up on an unfamiliar ship, Liam sleeping next to me. He was safe but injured. And then..."
The rest of his story blurred, his recollections of their life abroad, of Billy, of their work fading into background noise. All she could hear and feel were Sherlock's three words. He was safe. He was alive. Liam was safe and alive. All she could do was offer her thanks to the heavens.  Her knees gave out and she slumped back into her chair. Sherlock said that he was hurt, maybe that's why he couldn't come back. Maybe he didn't want to? How badly was he hurt?
She opened her mouth to ask, but Louis shook his head. "Let's focus on the mission first."
Right, the mission. Let's finish the mission first, there will be time to ask Sherlock about William later. Numerous thoughts ran through her mind, and she didn't even notice when their negotiations ended; when their briefing concluded. She was only numbly aware of Bond gently leading her back into her and William's shared room. She barely remembered why she'd been down there in the first place. Ah, that's right, they had a mission. And Sherlock came to help with their work. Sherlock who was alive. Who saved William. Liam was alive.
Her shaking legs carried her to the bed, where she numbly sat down, her trembling hands grabbing the fabric of her dress. She had to get ready, but she couldn't. Her shock was too great, her soul too shaken. Her sleepless nights must be catching up with her, she didn't even notice how tired she was. "I'm sorry, Bond. I don't think I can participate tonight."
Bond placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Louis already arranged for you to stay back. Don't worry, we'll be able to finish it ourselves." He knelt in front of her taking both of her still shaking hands into his. "I promise we'll find out everything we can about him from Sherlock. As soon as we get back you will be the first to know."
Tears prickled the corners of her eyes and she squeezed his hands gratefully. "Thank you."
With a nod, Bond raised himself and pivoted to leave, assuring her they'll be back soon. She hardly heard him. She was afraid of speaking, of breathing too loud, as if any unexpected noise might shatter this glass-thin fragile ball of hope growing in her chest, burying the razor-sharp edges of the shards of disappointment deep into her flesh, slicing fatal wounds she would not be able to recover from. She didn't let herself dwell on it. She just kept repeating to herself that he was alive and that that was enough.
After some time— she wasn't aware how much of it had passed — she became dimly aware of commotion happening down in the foyer. Throwing on one of William's old cardigans, she raced down the stairs, fully expecting to see only Louis or Bond back from the mission.
What she hadn't expected to see was everyone– even Moran– huddled in front of the main lobby in the foyer. As soon as he saw her Bond gestured for her to hurry up and enter the room. She hurriedly threw open the door, seeing three figures inside– one of them Louis, the other Albert. Her gaze widened as he met her eyes, lips pulling into his signature smirk, his eyes softening as her own filled with tears. He was released from prison. But how? Louis– who was standing with his back to her, obscuring the third figure– turned towards her, and her steps came to a screeching halt as she finally got her first look at the remaining person. Her hand flew to her mouth, as a heartbreaking sob tore its way from her throat.
Him. With his same platinum hair, now a little longer. His same gentle smile. His same scarlet gaze– one of his eyes now hidden under an eyepatch. He was standing behind his brothers, but when he saw her he took a slow step forward. It took her a second to really categorize the feeling currently coursing through her, filling her every pore. It was joy– pure, unadulterated joy was rushing through her veins. It had been so long that she'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Her gaze roamed over him, noting all of the differences that separated this William from the William in her dreams- her William. One thought ran through her mind— He looks so much thinner now– and then she thought nothing as she flung herself at him with another choked sob. He caught her readily, burying his face in her hair. No hesitation or doubt in his movements, as if showing her that no matter how much time had passed he would always be there to catch her in his arms– where she belonged.
Somewhere through the fog in her mind, she heard Albert and Louis excusing themselves,  leaving them alone and closing the door behind them— probably also asking everyone to give them some space– then the only sounds in the now silent room were her desperate gasps of his name and William's gentle reassurances saying: "I'm here, darling. Don't worry, I am not going anywhere. I'll always be here."
She was babbling, she knew, but she couldn't help herself. "Liam... Liam... You are alive. Sherlock said so, but I couldn't believe it. I–" Pulling away, she grabbed his hands, gaze unfocused, like some madness was forcing her to speak— as if she was a woman possessed. "It's you. It's really you. You returned. All this time I thought–"
His eyes shone, probably mirroring all of the storming feelings now reflected in her own. He traced abstract patterns on her skin with his thumbs as he kissed away her tears, his lips feather-soft on her skin. "If it were my choice, I would've come back as soon as I awoke, but I was gravely injured. When I finally regained consciousness, Billy had me working all over America. The matter was of utmost secrecy so I was unable to contact anyone." His shoulders slumped even more, and to her utter shock and confusion, she could see his entire being tremble softly. His gaze lifted, and the anguish in it dulled its usual scarlet hue into something more hollow— something akin to the colour of dried blood. "I am so sorry, love. For everything. For not returning sooner. For leaving. For that night." He gave an impossibly sorrowful smile. "Please forgive me."
Her knees wobbled and she found herself with no strength to stand, plopping ungracefully on the floor. He knelt right next to her, embracing her strongly, paying no heed to the tears staining his vest. "I am so sorry, darling." All he could do was repeat that as she cried and sobbed, clawing at his shirt. He made no moves, only hugged her tighter, and waited patiently for her to come to terms with this world-shattering revelation. As she screamed all her pain at him, all her grief. He just listened, murmuring soft words of love and acknowledgment.
She wasn't aware of how long they'd stayed like that, but when her sobs finally quieted and breathing no longer felt like sandpaper down her windpipe, she leaned away to truly look at him. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, her wide gaze ran over him, dry lips parting to say something. "What happened to your eye?" Her fingers lightly traced the eyepatch.
He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing as she raised her hand from his eyepatch to brush it through his hair. "Sherlock helped me heal it. It's my badge of honor for my foolishness. But a small price to pay for all of the sins I've committed." He opened his eyes to look at her. "For leaving you."
"Oh, Liam..." She shook her head, the lump in her throat almost choking her. "I do not blame you for leaving." His lips pulled into a thin line, eyes shining with unshed tears. She swallowed painfully, then continued. "I do not agree with your actions, but I do not blame you. I forgive you." His eyes widened, and before he could react she pulled him back into her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and placing his head on her shoulder, under her chin.
It felt so right to have him in her embrace like this, after so long, like two halves of a whole. To feel the hollow in her chest slowly filling up. It made these years without him feel like a bad dream, a hazy nightmare. She felt more than heard him whisper the words into her shoulder. "I hate myself for having done it, but I saw no other way. I realize now my mistake." He left a whisper of a kiss on her shoulder. "I shouldn't have thrown away my life like that, and I will forever be grateful for being given a second chance. I will not waste a moment of it." He leaned back and cupped her face with both hands, gaze impossibly soft and sincere. "I have chosen to live and to atone, and I am going to spend the rest of my days making up for the time I missed. I will tell you I love you with my every breath. I will kiss you until I'm dizzy. I know it might not be enough to repay all of the pain that I've caused you, but I hope you'll allow me to try."
"There is nothing to repay," she whispered as she stroked his hair. "You— William James Moriarty— are a kind, beautiful soul. One worthy of a second chance. So thank you... for believing in this world and for coming back to me."
His gaze lowered and she noticed his lower lip trembling before he pulled her into a kiss. A barely perceptible sound left him when their lips met, something akin to a sob, and she said nothing more as she felt the first searing droplet slide down his face and hit her arm, only deepening the kiss. With each kiss a miniature chunk of her soul broke, razor sharp and jagged, but with each next one, it smoothed and evened out, until they were all like pieces of a puzzle slotting themselves back into their rightful place. There will be enough time to talk later. For now, this was enough. Just holding him, kissing him, while they were both shattered and reborn anew was enough.
They separated after way too long, her finally remembering there were other people still waiting to see him. She called everyone back, all of them rushing into the room at the same time, surrounding William. There hasn't been this much joy in the house in years. She hugged Albert, grateful he was back as well and enjoyed the sight of the three brothers back together again. The sight was just right in her mind– it always felt wrong to see Louis all alone without them. After some time Albert shooed her and William away, saying he should get some rest after travelling so far. She led him into their shared bedroom and he paused at the threshold. She felt his hesitation, his cautious step forward betraying his inner turmoil. This must feel unreal to him as well, he didn't think he'd be coming back here. She couldn't even begin to understand what thoughts were racing behind his gaze as he entered and glanced around the room, his eyes widening. "It looks-"
"The same?" she chuckled, turning her back to him and slowly walking to his desk to trace the documents strewn there. "Yes, I didn't dare touch anything. Having it all unchanged like this made me feel-" Like you were coming back. She knew he heard the unspoken end of the sentence as he silently made his way towards her, slotting his hands around her waist, and pressing her to his chest. His heart was racing against her back– or was that her heart?
With a silent chuckle and a loving sigh, he whispered in her ear. "Well, since I have made a miraculous return, I do believe I'll need to tidy up my space again."
Her voice was still trembling as she answered. "I dusted your books. Your clothes are still in the closet. But your study is a mess. Wait, I'll tell Moneypenny-"
He tightened his arms around her. "Later." He traced gentle kisses down her throat to her shoulder. "I find myself impossibly weary and in need of some sleep. These last years my nights were restless at best and downright torturous at worst without you by my side."
"Of course." Her nights were exactly the same, although she suspected he already knew that. She also suspected this was truly more for her benefit than his. She couldn't remember the last time she'd truly slept and she was probably swaying on her feet. He saw right through her, as always. With a pointed glance at her and then the bed, he quickly maneuvered her towards it, laying her down as he joined after her.
Immediately she inched as close as she could to him, breathing in his scent, feeling herself relax for the first time in who knows how long as he hugged her to his chest. Everything was still so fresh, so raw. It was too much and too little at the same time. She wanted to never let him go, but she was also so terrified that if she clutched too hard he would vanish and she would wake up all alone again. As she gazed into his eyes, she saw the same torment in him and she knew right then, as she slowly succumbed to peaceful slumber, that he would understand why on some nights she'd hold onto him tighter, as if afraid he might disappear into mist and smoke. And he knew that she would understand why he would sometimes look at her reverently, drinking in her visage as if to compensate for all the times he wasn't able to.
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The next day was a flurry of movement and preparations and action, with William having invited Sherlock and his flatmates for dinner. Everyone was so busy following Louis' orders that by the time the guests arrived she'd had almost no time with Liam the entire day. The tables were set, the finest china was served, and the room was slowly filling up with all of the planned attendees. A sudden wave of nostalgia washed over her watching the scene. It was almost as if nothing happened. Once again she had the feeling that these three years were just a horrible nightmare.
While everyone was busy socializing, she spied Sherlock's dark head in the corner of the room, and with a determined set of her shoulders, she made her way towards him, each step purposeful and direct. She didn't let herself falter, didn't let herself doubt. Once in front of him, confronted with his confused and– dare she say it– scared gaze, she stopped and bowed deeply. "Thank you..."
He was obviously taken aback, his eyes widening and his hands flying to wave in front of him. "No need, I was just-"
She rose from her bow. "Please, I need to say this." He coughed awkwardly but didn't stop her as she continued. "I admit that I have been holding a grudge for the last three years. I thought that if I ever saw you I would not be able to forgive you." He might've muttered something along the lines of "Yeah I was aware of that", but she couldn't be sure. She glanced down at her clenched fists." Still, you brought him back." Once again her gaze connected with his. "You brought Liam back. You were his friend and you saved him and cared for him. And that's something I can never repay." One of her hands clutched her chest as she poured all of her feelings out to him. "You have my deepest gratitude, Sherlock Holmes."
"Hey now-" He dragged his hand through his hair and groaned, feeling awkward under her unwavering attention. "Ah, this is so troublesome. Listen, Liam is my friend, I couldn't just let him die after I promised you I'd help him. Besides-" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and huffed out a breath giving her a sincere glance. "What kind of a friend would I be to him if I didn't bring him home to you." Her breath hitched in her throat, tears threatening to fall once again as Sherlock gave her a cheeky grin. "Just... treat him right, okay? He truly loves you."
She nodded her head. "I know." She knew it was redundant to tell him that she loved Liam, too. From the look on Sherlock's face, he already knew. Clearing her throat, she said: "If you ever need anything this house will always be open to you."
Sherlock was about to answer when she heard silent footsteps behind her and felt an arm softly wrap itself around her waist. "Something interesting you two are whispering about?"
She relaxed into William's hold, feeling his familiar warmth and scent envelop her. "Nothing. I was just thanking Sherlock."
She felt his amused humm and saw him give Sherlock an apologetic smile before enveloping her hand with his and gently tugging her after him, away from the main lobby. "Can I steal you away for a moment?"
She followed him without complaint. "Of course."
Quietly, he steered her along into one of their libraries, closing the door shut behind him, but still unable to completely drown out the cacophony of Von Herder's latest gramophone concert invention. She laughed as he led her deeper into the room. "Should the hosts be missing their event like this?"
He gave her a conspiratorial smile, his scarlet gaze bright with mirth. "I'm sure Sherlock will fabricate some excuse for us." Pulling her towards him, he pretended to consider it. "After all, they were all with you all these years, I'm sure they'll allow me to have you all to myself for a little while."
So saying, he gently took her hands, positioning one on his shoulder and holding the other, while his other hand slotted itself on the small of her back. With another mischievous smile, he pulled her closer and started slowly swaying to the music still bleeding into the room. A chuckle of surprise left her lips and she rested her head on his chest, following his lead and swaying along with him. They all could wait a little longer for all she cared, she wanted to stay like this forever. Basking in his embrace, in his warmth– she knew now that that was what home felt like. Like yin and yang, she knew that their love was everlasting. Even when she has to let it go, it will always, unfailingly and undoubtedly, come back to her.
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celestialprincesse · 7 months
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YES!! YEY!!
so yk how like nerd!readers usually have collections? yes, collections. i have obsessions over a lot of things. im a "nerd" for dinos, coffee, dark romance books, cats, bla bla. yes. im a handful. hah.
then how they usually dont sleep. how I usually dont sleep lmao. then he comes home to reader studying or completing work, thesis, reports you name it. or maybe back to reader just waiting for him with those almost dead,baggy eyes. like "oh hey, fuck im sleepy". oh my ive been there. had my friend coming over and she saw me flopped on the floor, papers everywhere, highlighter in mouth while my empty coffee mug had crunched papers haha. also, 3 days of thesis(s)
then reader binges a lot. on books, series, documentaries, anything that keeps them away from being loneliness. i love crime and history oh hell yes. usually watch them war docus haha. then the crime ones are addicting. or for fun, id watch cooking shows, thanks to that habit, im a pro chef (lol) im an ambivert, thus, yes i can socialise. i had my housemate come with me shopping. she's a pilot so she's rarely home. she followed me to the mall, nearby cafe's, some local shops and i was saying high to all the shopkeepers. she was like, "you know everyone?" "yep, get pretty lonely :D" yea..i could imagine Simon just watching in confusion haha. i have..adopted 2 cats to keep me entertained...sorry Simon :D
hehe, i have more but this is all for now love! <333 i wanna know how it is on your side :DD
Honestly, it's pretty much the same for me. I'm big on collecting things too, mostly books and jewellery and the occasional kitschy antique I stumble upon at my local thrift. I also sleep a lot (but always at weird times) because my brain keeps me up at night whirring about the most random nonsensical things.
I like to think that Simon sort of takes charge of he and nerdy!readers relationship when they're working on a big research project because they just entirely forget how to function. I'm talking hoisting them over his shoulder to get to bed, plugging in their laptop so it's fully charged in the morning. He asks them questions about their interests just so that he gets the opportunity to shove a granola bar or some berries into their open mouth, otherwise they'll get so focussed they forget to eat. He'll drag them to the gym or on a walk with him just so that they can get some fresh air and exercise, because sitting at a desk for all hours of the day for weeks isn't healthy, despite how much they try and convince him it is.
Honestly? I also think that Simon would be super pro his partner getting a pet. He's down to do basically anything that will give them a break from freaking out over their studies, and he'd really like them to have some company when he's away on deployment, so at least if they don't leave the house, they won't be entirely alone.
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asegunda · 9 months
Text
Accidental Study Session
PJO
Pairings: Annabeth Chase x GN!Reader, I wrote this with a platonic relationship in mind, you can do whatever you want but I was craving platonic ones so I wrote one.
Summary: Annabeth always goes to the library when she has free time, mostly when she is trying not to die aka not being chased by monsters who want her dead or when she is at camp, and one day she meets other person with the same interest.
Notes and Warnings: Well this is my first work so I would be very happy if there is no bullying 🙏❤️, and English is not my first language, as you see at the description of my profile, and I just wrote this for my enjoyment so dont expect for me to start writing normaly.
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You were in the library two days in a row and Annabeth has been glancing at you. Not for the weirdo reasons of course, its just that you are holding one of her favourite books about architecture, more specifically, about the Renaissance era.
She just really wanted to talk to you and maybe hear your opinion, you didn't look too far from her age, maybe 2 years older at best...but she just couldn't, what if you just looked at her the wrong way, or if you really didnt want to talk and you just wanted to be left alone.
Annabeth sighed, and then made a decision.
She wasn't a Daughter of Athena for nothing. She had the courage to do this.
She aproached your table when you are reading and taking notes.
She sits at the chair in front of you and when you see her there you close your book (with the marker of course).
"Hmm. Do you need something?" You ask, making Annabeth almost jump.
"Oh, its just.." You can do this Annabeth. "I saw you reading that book and well its one of my favourites... so I wanted to know your opinion, since..well..I saw you taking notes." Did I talk too much?
"I see..well. This is a good read but Im just studying this because of my history classes. The next test will be about the Renaissance art and.. well Im very good at the history kind of topic but art isn't my favourite of all." You tell her but when you see that she is becoming a bit more tense you smile and say. "But Im glad someone likes this type of topic."
None of you talks for some seconds.
"Well if it isn't too much, could I read your notes?" She responds with a light of expectation.
"Sure, and its good that someone that understants this more than me sees it." You smile at her making her a bit embarassed for the compliment.
-♥︎-
You shared your name and Annabeth shared her's, and for the rest of that day she also helped you for your test and you two talked about other topics, eachother lifes (of course without all of that "Greek Gods are real and I'm a demigod" thing).
At the end of the day you were packing your things when you heard.
"Is it possible to do this more times?" Annabeth asked.
"I would love too." You smiled at her and Annatbeth couldn't almost contain her exciment.
Finally she could have a place to think about other things, things not related to being a demigod. She could even have a mortal friend, she interrupted those thoughts when you placed a paper in her hand.
"My number. If you want to contact me about these study sessions." You tell her and say again. "What's your number?"
Annabeth made the first excuse she could think of. "Well I dont remember it and I dont have my phone here."
You make a quick glance but just has it is there it disapears and you smile.
"Well, then you can always contact me trough that."
You two get out of the library and you make a quick wave.
"Goodbye Annabeth."
"Goodbye Y/n."
As you start walking away Annabeth just yells at you.
"Good luck on your test!"
You look at her and give her a thumbs up.
-♥︎-
The next time you are together you show her your result: 100%
Annabeth smiles.
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