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alwaysshallow · 8 months

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single mom x price; PART 2

AO3 VERSION

part one || part three || part four

“Please. Be good, alright?”

You look down at your son. He holds his bear close to his chest; defensive, as you sense—you almost sigh at this view. He’s in a bad moment. The moment where he needs no one, but his mom and the cuddles that you normally would give him, if the nanny wouldn’t be on her way.

And it’s his favorite nanny.

You’re reluctant to let him stay in the house, considering not only his humor, but the earlier tantrum that he gave you. Something between “you’re the worst mother ever”—which only gives you an eye roll, but it’s a potential theme for a cry session later on—and “i don’t want anyone else but you”.

Normally, you’d call your mother that loves him to the core, but given that she’s in Hawaii, not really reachable for you and possibly not in the mood to listen to your problems. She only wants to do it when she’s bored, and if she can give you her “golden advice” without a chance of being cut off by you putting a phone away because she crossed a line.

Which happened too many times in the past, since she just absolutely adored engaging in your life. Reminding you every time that you are responsible for the position you found yourself in and the only thing that could possibly save you is listening to her. Marrying the man that she gets to pick.

Because the mother knows best, as she always says.

The irony of beefing with your son is irritating for you too; especially that you need a nanny for an hour, maybe a little more because you need to go to the town meeting. You could skip it, sure, but it’s like skipping an opportunity; and who knows what will happen. Maybe you’ll get around doing something that will bring money, if they will talk about the spring festival.

Last year you got yourself quite a deal, so the thought is exciting enough for you.

The possibility of meeting John is thrilling, too, even if you don’t want to admit it directly. Everything about this man is electric, enticing enough for you to barely be able to think around him. Something is tingling in your chest, when you think about it. He’s acclimatizing well enough in town too, as you learned—and the town meeting is a good chance to see with whom he’s close.

Animal in a zoo, it would be a good comparison, even if it seems cruel for some reason because John is anything but it.

You get to leave the house after five minutes of talking with your nanny. She’s like an angel, considering that she convinced you to leave, telling you that she’s gonna do alright with your son and his tantrums aren’t really the worst thing that happened in her career.

Which, oddly enough, you believe, without even knowing the details.

You sit in the second row at the meeting. Arms crossed, maybe a little defensive, but you’re not opposed to talking with people that sit near you. They show you photos, talk about their family, ask kindly about yours, until someone mentions a husband when you tell them about a situation from days ago.

Normally, you’d probably make a snarky remark about their comment, saying something how rude it is to point to someone that they need a man, when your point isn’t missing someone to help you around.

That’s normally, if your ears wouldn’t catch that voice. The voice that’s hard to forget even if you’d desperately try to do it. Deep, drawing attention to the owner immediately, like a moth to a flame because the desire to look is impossible to resist. Everyone knows that the appearance does the magic, but if the voice is attractive, most likely is the one who has it.

And that’s exactly John Price.

You observe him only with a corner of your eye, assured that if you’re gonna glance at him once then he’s gonna know where you are. It’s like the seventh sense of his, probably acquired after his job, at least you think that’s the case.

You don’t need that. What you actually want, need, is a small dose of mystery that you currently have without him knowing you’re here.

Maybe that’s not fair, but you don’t care.

He talks mostly with guys from the local workshop; they vigorously explain something to him and he nods. Listens, then responds in such a different mannerism that they represent. Calmer, more stoic, yet it can’t be mistaken with indifference. He’s just… thinking type, you assume. The one who calculates before taking any action.

Wise man, so to speak.

Besides the boring stuff at the community meeting, there’s just one thing that could potentially interest you in—competition for the best garden in town. It has everyone gossiping there and there in a deep hope, or strategies what to do to earn a win; mostly those successful, straight out of family movie moms, ideal moms who are doing everything for their families. Chit-chatter about flowers, techniques and stuff disrupts everything enough to make a meeting come to an end. There’s no point in continuing, when no one listens.

You aren’t even considering the competition, but it gets you enough to think of renovating your garden. Forgotten long ago, as it needed too much work when you had a small kid; right now, when your son is six, there’s way more opportunities for you to actually try to tend it. Who knows, maybe spring is the best time for that.

“So. Gonna snatch that first place reward?” You almost jump, when you feel a hand on your hip. Light touch, but waking you up from your thoughts enough to acknowledge how tender it is. Allowing you to back off easily, if you’d feel like it’s too much.

But you know who this is. And you somehow know that it’s not too much.

“I wish,” you laugh dryly, looking finally at John. He arches an eyebrow, then proceeds to walk back to back with you, no hesitation in his moves whatsoever. “Not really a gardener. Besides, knowing how my garden looks right now… Not really a chance, no.”

There’s a second of silence. “Could help you with that,” he says, fixing his shirt; you give him a quick glance. His outfit isn't really different from the other times. Simple flannel, worn out jeans, combat boots and this well-known, plastered smile into his lips. Charming and dangerous, you think. “I have time, if you really want it.”

You clear your throat, conflicted. Do you really care that much about possibly winning a contest? Maybe John’s help would really do wonders, considering that he already helped a lot of people in the neighborhood; with success that didn’t take much time, as you know.

Kind, nice, doesn’t want anything else in return; could work for you for free. You’re 99% sure that you would bake him a pie or something anyway, but the thought you wouldn’t have trouble with payment is nice enough.

“Maybe. I need to think about it.” He raises his eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just nods his head in an understanding manner.

“We’ll exchange numbers, then. It’ll be easier,” John announces, giving you his phone. You look at him, dumbstruck—it wasn’t exactly your plan to do this.

“I don’t— Well, I don’t think it’s necessary—”

He barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Nonsense. Come on.” Price smiles; like an angel, truly. Angel in a disguise of a tempting devil because you enter your number into his contacts, even if you wanted to keep it as a secret a little bit more. “Wasn’t so hard, was it? Didn’t think I’m some kind of a creep, did you?”

Your face flushes with pure red, when he implies that. “No! No. I’m just… I don’t use a phone often,” you croak. White lie that don't really need much explanation from you.

“That right,” he muses, possibly amused with your hurried talk. “I’ll call you in a few, then.”

He sticks to his promise, as you learn over the next few days.

The thing is: you don’t pick up.

It’s not like you do it on purpose. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when you see a few missed calls on the phone, the moment you come back from the grocery store. Or, when you’re out in the garden with your kid, planning how it’s gonna change in the future because you’re just taken-aback by how bad it looks. Like it’s not your garden.

Maybe the problem is your lack of courage to call him, too. It would take one click and you’d be done with the task, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to it. Mixed feelings and the “I can take care of anything” mindset doesn’t help you much.

It feels like a reminder to call back, when you see John outside. He’s in the middle of a discussion with some teenagers that were screaming earlier, disrupting the precious night silence. You thank him in mind that you don’t have to do it—as you got up from bed only for this—you just observe everything behind your window, wrapped in a fluffy robe. You can’t miss the drama, even if it means that you’ll lose a few minutes of your sleep.

Your humor gets better automatically, as you even laugh at how disappointed they seem, going straight up to their homes.

And then, you cross gazes with him.

There’s a faint smile from John. He raises his hand, greeting you, so you do the same. However, the difference in moves is clear. John does it slowly, you almost rush to do it and disappear into your bedroom, so he won’t get an idea that you’re up for a talk.

Because you’re not. You’re too tired to do that, to talk with a man that makes a pretty mess in your head every time you’re around him. And, you’re way too ashamed to do that when he called you multiple times and you haven’t answered even a single one of it.

Some part of you wants to give in and text him right after you see him, but you let this idea flow by. You’re gonna text him at the right moment, you think. The middle of the day, or when you’re gonna see that he works over something, so he won’t be able to read it right away.

You forget about your declaration soon enough. Way too caught up with balancing between home, work and school, you don’t quite realize that the longer you’ll extend the whole thing, the longer it will be over your head.

On Monday, you’re reminded. At first, you don’t really acknowledge it, too irritated that you can’t move your car because someone decided to park behind you, blocking your way. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is your son that does not really care what’s going on. He just sits in the back, playing with his toys, unbothered.

The realization of whose car it is, overwhelms you completely in one moment. You know whose car it is. It’s hard not to, really, when you think about it: there’s only one pick up truck around. The neighborhood is full with families that prefer—most definitely—a car more efficient, a car that has more seats because that’s the only way everyone will fit and ride for football games and all that shit.

The thought you have to ask him out of all people, gives you a migraine.

It’s an awkward thought; the way you have to say something. You haven’t returned any of his calls, treating him like some one night stand (even if it wasn’t the case because you never slept together), and now you want him to move his car. Theoretically speaking, he should do it without even thinking twice.

You can’t help but wonder though, if he’s even gonna acknowledge your plea, given you ignored the shit out of him.

Rude, you think. You’re rude and you did nothing about the calls. About the proposition. You totally ignored John Price, and now you’re embarrassed because you have to ask him something. Maybe if you’d think of calling him back, you wouldn’t even be stressed about this situation. Quick text to him, and there he is, moving his car.

In another lifetime, though. In this, you have to do something else.

After you tell your kid you’re gonna be back in a second, you decide to test your luck and jog into his house, just a few meters away, knocking with a whole monologue in your head. How you need him to move your car because your kid needs to go to school. How you need it to go to the grocery store, you even think of giving him an excuse that you need to go to your mom, even if it’s a straight up lie.

You don’t have to wait long. Door swings open a few seconds later and you can see John, a little bit sleepy and confused—possibly because no one normally wants to see someone at seven in the morning.

He speaks before you have a chance to do it. “So eager to apologize, eh?”

It takes you a few seconds before you stare into his eyes, instead of his chest. “Excuse me?” You blink several times. It’s not like you didn’t understand what he said, it’s just his body that you pay too much attention to. He has no shirt on himself, his sweats low on his hips. Tempting.

You do not look lower than that, for the sake of your sanity. No time for fantasies—and it seems like he knows what you’re thinking, as he smirks with that annoying smugness that he has.

“You haven’t returned my calls,” he says, voice low. Might be the consequence of just waking up, but you think of it as seductive. You’re not gonna rub it into his face though, when he literally has the upper hand in this situation. Wouldn’t be smart. “Thought you’re here ‘cause of it.”

You clear your throat. He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either. “Yeah. We’ll talk about this later, but could you—”

“Why?” John tilts his head. It doesn’t help your case in any way. “We have time, you came here early. Might as well—”

“There’s… a lot going on,” you blurt out, interrupting. You don’t really know if he believes you or not, but he certainly is interested in why. So, before he has the chance to say that, you speak up again, "And you have to move your car first.”

“A lot? You know that I offered to help if something’s too much, right?”

You forget how to breathe for a minute. His tone is hard, a sheer contrast to playful John that was here just a minute ago. Not quite scary, since it doesn’t even sound like a threat, but it is a reminder. Urgent one. “I know, but—"

“None of that. If you need something, you call me.”

“Right now, I need you to fix your car.” Comes out a little bit aggressive. It has Price raising an eyebrow.

“My car seems perfectly good, why would I do that?" John leans against the door frame, looking down at you. You're pretty sure you've never felt smaller than you do now.

Using his advantage to intimidate you is smart. Something that he’s gonna do, if you’re gonna show him that you’re weak for it.

You cough. Trying to be civil here is a necessity, you think. Especially if you actively ignored him before. "Thing is, you blocked my car," you try to explain—calmly, before you run away from him; you even point at your red Mazda, a late birthday gift from your grandfather. "I have to… drive my son to his school."

"I did?" he raises his eyebrow. For a minute, his eyes are off you, attention on the parking lot, trying to search for the problem. Then, he looks at you again. "Mm. Seems perfectly fine to me, love.”

Love. He does it to annoy you, that’s the only reason why he’s so unfazed. Or, he’s trying to achieve something different, but for now, you can’t think straight when this man—half naked man, to be exact—blocks your car’s way, looking good.

Too good.

“I can’t move in any way. You’re… too close.”

“Too close? Could say this sooner—”

“—too close with your car, I mean,” you add, weakly. Price has you stepping on your tiptoes, so careful with picking your words. Precise what you mean because if you’re not gonna do it, he could take advantage and change the meaning.

He chuckles, his smile widening. If he’d be anyone else, you’d think that is a predator move. “Makin’ you all nervous and stressed. Why? Am I this scary, love?”

Again. Again this pet name.

“Just— Can you, please, move your car?” you ask, massaging your temples. He makes you weak in the knees and irritated at the same time; you don’t even acknowledge the steps forward that he makes.

He gets your attention the moment he tips your chin up. This feeling itself is making your stomach jump; skin sizzles with that specific need, deep in your heart that you rather not admit, but it is there. It is there, and John makes it difficult not to melt into a puddle in his hands. Ridiculously warm hands on your skin, to add.

The comfort he brings wraps around you tight like a blanket in particularly cold mornings. Important, needed even, especially in fragile moments. You almost forgot how it feels.

“What car is it? Red mazda?” He breaks eye contact with you for a second to glance once again at the parking lot.

“Yeah.”

He locks his eyes with you again. “Oh, honey. Should say that sooner”

There’s a storm happening inside your head; a strange type of deja vu falls on you like a tsunami wave; unexpected and cruel in some way. Did you not tell him what car is it? That's why he acted funny, so cocky, not taking you seriously? You’re sure you pointed in the right direction, even if you didn’t tell him what car it was. He looked here.

Or maybe he didn't? Why would he lie, though? You might as well be tired, you think. It’s not easy to be a single mom, to balance everything out.

Right?

Storm inside your head makes you ignore the warm feeling in your stomach, when John guides you to the parking lot with his big hand on the small of your back.

“I'm sorry.”

"It's okay. Nothing, really," you gulp. "You're new here, so you might not know my car."

Even if you’re sure you pointed him the direction of it.

“Could know better,” he hums, caressing your clothed skin. Tenderly, afraid to break you in any means. “So, so sorry. Really. And look, now because of me you have to put up with being late. Came home later than usual… If I saw all of that, I’d find a different spot.”

You smile a little, pleased with his explanation. There’s nothing wrong in your mind about this situation, nothing that could indicate that he’s lying. Even if he’s a little too close for comfort, you think it’s because that’s who he is.

He moves his car quickly, while you talk to your kid; he almost didn’t notice your disappearance, too interested in his toys. Even if you want desperately to listen, your brain is too occupied with the previous situation, with Price looking so good without a shirt.

Your son tells you about the “drama” between the elephant and monkey when John comes back into the picture, right before you are about to reverse.

“Everythin’ good now? Nothing else to take care of?”

“Everything’s alright.” You give him another smile. “Thank you, John.”

“No problem.” He glances at your kid, then, back at you. “We’ll have to talk later. About the garden.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll have to.”

#captain john price x reader #john price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #call of duty fanfic #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x you #john price x y/n #john price imagines #price x reader #price x you #single mom reader

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g-hughes · 4 months

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Bite Me - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist | g's graduation celly

synopsis: When one of Quinn's teammates asks if their sister could stay with him to bounce back after a break-up, Quinn said yes. But six months later, Quinn feels like he has met his matched. Or when Quinn Hughes falls for his roommate, who happens to be his teammate's sister.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smut mentioned! friends with benefits situation, Boeser!Reader, nudity, cursing.

Quinn Hughes thought of himself as being a “good guy”. He held doors open for people, swapped seats on airlines when asked, donated money to various charities, and spent time, when he could, coaching the Canucks Youth Team. He was a good guy and an even better teammate and captain.

He prided himself on being the one on the team the guys could go to when they needed advice or just someone to sit and listen to them rant. He would give his teammate the shirt off his back if one of them asked. So when Brock Boeser, Quinn’s best friend, asked if his younger sister could crash with him for a few days, Quinn said yes without even really thinking it through.

“It’ll be a few days,” Brock assured Quinn as he brought in one of her suitcases, “Her dick head ex cheated on her and threw all her shit in the driveway. She was gonna spring for a hotel, but I couldn’t let her do that. I’d let her stay at mine, but we’re remod-”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Quinn assured his winger, “I know you’d do the same if it was one of my brother’s. She can crash here as long as she needs.”

“She swears it’ll only be a few days.”

But a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks into a few months. Now it's been six months and Y/N Boeser has become Quinn’s official unofficial roommate. And he hated it.

Quinn didn’t want a roommate, nor did he need one. He actually loved coming home to a quiet apartment after weeks on the road. He liked the solitude of being able to hide away from the cameras and the press in his face and following his every move. He liked to be able to walk around damn near naked and not have to worry about being walked in on. But having a roommate, all those privileges had been taken away.

“Quintin! You parked in my fucking spot!” Y/N yelled as she slammed the front door shut. Quinn smirked to himself, as he finished mixing around the vegetables in the pan. He knew exactly what he did and he knew it was going to piss you off. Quinn had two parking spots, one for himself and one for a guest (which had become Y/N as of late), and he decided that tonight, he was going to forget his driver’s ed training and park in the middle of the two spots.

“Quintin,” Y/N groaned, coming into the kitchen, setting down her bags from work. Quinn looked over his shoulder, trying his hardest to fight the urge to stare at your breasts.

Yes, Quinn hated having a roommate, but it did come with its own perks. Such as, his roommate was very, very attractive.

“Oh hey sweetheart,” Quinn smirked, “Did I miss something?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms across her chest, pushing her tits up even more in the tight tanktop she was wearing, “You know what you fucking did, you parking in the middle of the spots again!”

"Oh, I did?" He feigned innocence, "Well, maybe if you didn't leave all your damn shoes by the fucking door!"

"It was one pair! One pair, Quintin!"

"Quit calling me Quintin!"

Y/N groaned and grabbed her bag, stomping her way out of the kitchen. Quinn turned back towards the dinner he was cooking, his mood sour. He had such a good day too. Practice went smoothly, Toch only yelled at them for an hour instead of two. Things were finally starting to take a turn after a losing streak that put everyone on edge. Quinn felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, his first season as captain after a disappointing season. He had to prove himself, he had to prove that he was worthy of the captain spot.

Oh, and waking up with Y/N’s mouth wrapped around his cock was an added bonus.

Quinn hated to admit it out loud, it made him feel dirty and wrong about it, but there was nothing dirty and wrong about it. It seemed to have happened naturally, the tension between them building since the moment Quinn first saw Y/N. He had done his best to ignore her for the first week she was occupying his guest room. She had just been broken up with in a horrible way, and was trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered years-long relationship. But then she started to come out of her room, and she was like a storm, Quinn had no idea how to brace for.

She was sassy, and smart, and beautiful, and stubborn, and messy, and so fucking sexy when she was pissed off about something work or at Quinn for parking over the line of his parking spot.

It was bound to happen, the tension and animosity growing between them as the days went by. It turned into more than Quinn bitching about the shoes by the front door, which he had repeatedly told her to stop leaving them there. It turned into her bitching at Quinn for leaving dirty plates in the sink. Then it was Quinn bitching about how she would take the full garbage bag out of the can and leave it by the front door (in her defense, the dumpster was in the alley behind the building and Quinn didn’t feel very comfortable with her taking it out late at night). Then it was Y/N bitching about Quinn leaving his travel bag, unpacked, in the laundry room between roadies.

The final straw for both of them was when they both came home, unsatisfied in different ways. Quinn had come home from a long roadie, the majority of them being losses. All he wanted to do was take a bath and relax and regroup for the next series ahead. Y/N, had come home from yet another shitty date. She insisted that her date didn’t need to walk her to the door, but he wanted to make sure she got in safely, or so he said. Quinn could hear her fake laughter from the other side of the door, as he stood at the kitchen counter, waiting for the tea kettle to whistle.

“I had a good time,” She said, “Thanks for walking me back.”

“No problem,” A male’s voice sounded out, “Ya know. . . this doesn’t have to end here.”

Quinn grimaced. It didn’t take a genius to know that Y/N wasn’t interested.

“I uh. . . I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Quinn could almost picture her nervously pushing her hair behind her ear, “I’ll give you a call.”

“C’mon,” The guy was sounding desperate, “We both want to end the night right.”

It was silent for a moment, and for some odd reason, anger flowed through Quinn’s body. Was the guy kissing her? Was she seriously considering letting him in? Quinn had never brought it up, but he assumed that Y/N wasn’t having people over. Not that she couldn’t, he guessed, it was her place too. But for some reason, the idea of her having a man in her bed pissed him off.

“You’re right,” Y/N sighed. Quinn’s body seemed to move on it’s own accord as he walked over to the front door, his hand wrapping around the knob, “I better go see if my vibrator is charged. Night, Marcus!”

Quinn jumped back startled as the front door was pushed open and Y/N charged in. He could see the confused face of the man, Marcus, behind the door as it slammed in his face. Y/N groaned as she kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse on the couch. Quinn wanted so badly to make a comment about her shoes, but instead he said;

“You have a vibrator?”

Y/N looked at him, one eyebrow raised, “I am not a 16 year old. Of course I have a vibrator. Almost every woman has one.”

“You use it?”

“Yes, perv,” Y/N scoffed, and reached for her purse, “Boe said you were quiet, but I didn’t know quiet meant stalker. Night.”

Quinn blinked several times as she walked down towards her room. His mind, again, thinking of other things to say, like apologizing for asking her such a vulnerable question, but instead, once again he blurted the wrong thing.

“I don’t want you having sex in my house.”

Y/N paused in her walk, holding still for a moment and turning around to face him, “Excuse me?”

“I don’t want you having sex in my house,” Quinn stood firm on what he said, even though he regretted it the second he said it. Even though her name wasn’t on the lease, she was still living and paying rent (Quinn told her several times her money was useless, but she cried and told him she had to contribute somehow).

“I am not.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Mhm,” Quinn nodded. It was silent again as the two of them stared each other down, tension thick in the air like smoke.

“Need anything else?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence. She folded her arms under her chest, pushing her breasts up in the tight black dress she was wearing. Quinn gulped, taking in her appearance; short, tight black dress, black leather jacket, black heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, a dainty good chain around her neck. Quinn gulped, thinking and praying of anything that would keep the blood from rushing south.

“Nope,” He shook his head.

“Good,” Y/N responded, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to end my night right.” Quinn felt his boxers grow tighter as she turned on her heel, and walked down to her door. She stopped just before going inside her room, “Ya know, a gentleman would ask if I need help.”

Quinn watched as her eyes seemed to turn a shade darker and looked him over from head to toe. In two quick strides, Quinn was pushing her against her door, his lips on hers. Her hands were in his hair, pulling on the locks she told him not to cut. His hands roamed her body, pulling her as close to him as she could possibly get. He shamelessly rutted her hips against her, his cock begging for release from his pants.

“If I fuck you, will you stop leaving your shoes by the door?” Quinn mumbled, his lips leaving a trail of searing hot kisses on her skin.

“If you do a good job, I might consider it.”

From that night, their friends with benefits relationship blossomed. One would think with the among of orgasms they gave each other, that the animosity would be nearly nonexistent. But it only seemed to up the ante between them. The fights were louder, the pranks were almost near nuclear, and the sex. . . the sex was downright rough and dirty. It almost became part of Quinn’s pregame ritual, to fuck Y/N or jerk off to a video of her.

Y/N clenched her jaw as she threw her dirty work clothes into the hamper, getting ready to shower the day off. She grabbed her speaker, making sure to turn it up loud enough to annoy Quinn down in the kitchen. He hated her taste in music, and she was well aware of it, always taking the aux cord from her when they would drive to Roger’s. Quinn also liked to eat his dinner in silence, claiming it was one of the only times of his day he had to himself.

Smiling, she turned on Taylor Swift, letting the bass hit her ears as she stepped into the hot stream of her shower.

Quinn was mid bite when the all too familiar intro to “SLUT!” started playing. He groaned, slamming his fork down, “One dinner. One fucking dinner in peace.” He pushed his chair away, storming down the hallway towards Y/N’s room. He wasn’t surprised to find her bedroom door unlocked, almost as if she was expecting him. He was about to push the door open, when he heard another all too familiar sound coming from the other side, the blood in his body rushing south. He smirked, imagining how deep her fingers were inside of her to get that kind of reaction.

Quinn could tell she was getting close by the way her moans got higher pitched. He knew now was the time to strike. Pushing the door open, he walked right over to her shower and yanked back the curtain.

“Quintin!” Y/N squealed, pulling her hands away from her core and covering her chest, “What the fuck!?”

"Don't be shy, sweetheart," He smirked, looking up and down her soaking wet body. He licked his lips, and she scoffed, turning away from him, "Oh come on, it's not like I haven't seen it before. Turn back around, lemme see the girls again."

"Oh bite me, Hughes!" Y/N turned the shower head towards him, affectively soaking him. Quinn turned his body away from the water stream that was not only soaking his t-shirt and shorts, but the floor.

"No," Quinn grunted and grabbed the shower head, turning it back towards her, "You'd enjoy it too much."

Y/N looked over at him, "You're all wet."

"That makes two of us now, huh," Quinn shot her that megawatt smile. Y/N rolled her eyes and snatched the shower curtain from his hand.

"You just lost your invite!"

my requests are open!! :)

#quinn hughes imagine #Quinn hughes fan fic #Quinn hughes fan fiction #Quinn hughes x reader #Quinn hughes x oc #qh43 #hockey imagine #hockey fan fic #hockey fan fiction

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your-turn-to-role · 2 years

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also. i absolutely adored what lovm did with the pass through fire quote

but then it makes me emotional about the original context, so i have to share that too (minor plot spoilers ahead)

because it wasn't originally to do with the ashari at all. it was from patrick rothfuss' guest character, a blacksmith named kerrek, who helped vox machina fight against the dragon in westruun, and helped keyleth personally through some difficult stuff (he may yet appear on lovm, but given the context of the quote now i doubt we'll get all of it)

and a little after kerrek's episode, patrick rothfuss actually made a legit letter from kerrek to keyleth, with a present inside, and left it with matt until whatever point in the plot she was able to recieve it

which by coincidence was one of the hardest moments in the whole campaign for her

and this letter had marisha legit crying in the episode, because it's just. so beautiful, and so needed. and it goes:

Keyleth,

I write to let you and your companions know that the repair of Westruun is proceeding well. I will not bore you with the details. Suffice to say that our children are well-fed and safe, our elderly and infirm are cared for and comfortable. Without the help of you and yours, this would not be the case.

The folk in charge argue constantly, but that is to be expected, and it is no bad thing. They all want the same good things in different ways. I listen, mostly, and do what I can to make sure that they listen to each other. Without listening, nothing good can happen.

The town... when I say the repair is going well, it is a hard thing for me to talk about. I am not a particularly clever man, and much of this is new to me. When you make a mistake with metal, you can melt things down and start afresh. It is irritating, and it costs in time and soot and sweat, but it can be done. There is a comfort in iron, knowing that a fresh start is always possible. But a city is not a sword. It is a living thing, and living things defy simple fixing. Roots cannot be reforged. They scar, and broken branches must be cut and sealed with tar, and this makes me angry, as it always has, and my anger has no place to go.

It was easier when I was young. I could use my anger like a hammer against the world. I was so sure of myself and my friends and my rightness. I would hammer at the world, and breaking felt like making to me, and I was good at it. And while I was not wrong, neither was I entirely right. Nothing is simple.

I do not work in wood. I am not brave enough for that. There is a comfort in iron, a promise of safety, a second chance if mistakes are made. But a city is more a forest than a sword. No, it needs more tending than that.

Perhaps a city is like a garden, then. So these days, it seems I have become a gardener. I dig foundations in the earth. I sow rows of houses. I plan and plant. I watch the skies for rain and ruin. I cannot help but think that you would be better at this, but circumstance has put both of us in our own odd place. You are forced to be a hammer in the world, and my ungentle hands are learning how to tend a plot of land. We must do what we can do.

Did you know that there are some seeds that cannot sprout unless they are first burned? A friend once told me that. She was... she was a bookish sort. I think of gardening constantly these days. I wear your gift, and I think of you, and I think it is interesting that there are some living things that need to pass through fire before they flourish.

I ramble. You have the heart of a gardener, and because of this, you think of consequence, and your current path pains you. I am not wise, and I do not give advice, but I have come to know a few things: sometimes breaking is making. Even iron can start again. And there are many things that move through fire and find themselves much better for it afterward.

I have enclosed a gift. Once it was a sword, but it has changed. It is a small thing, and silly. Please forgive an old man for his foolishness. Still, I hope it brings you some small comfort.

Kindly, Kerr.

and the present inside the envelope? a ring, engraved with the phrase "I have passed through fire."

#hi i saw a gifset of marisha getting the ring and im emotional again so have the full letter #god patrick rothfuss i know you're a professional writer but how are you so good at this #cr1 #the legend of vox machina #keyleth #kerrek #cr thoughts

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thewulf · 1 year

Text

Fool || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Can you write something about hangman x pilot!reader? also make it super fluffy? not a specific request I know, but I've having trouble finding new things to read. thank you!!

A/N: Okay! This was a BLAST to write! TY for the request!! Love my main man. This turned out way more angsty and spicy(ish) than I imagined but I think you'll love it. Let me know your thoughts!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 4.2k +

“You can’t be fucking serious Seresin.” You nearly growled as you watched Hangman roll to the right after you expressly told him not to fucking roll to the right. He was supposed to stay straight ahead and head back to the aircraft carrier. But did he listen? No, he did not. His stupid big ass cocky brain would never take any advice. Soon enough it could cost him his life. One of these days it could really hurt him.

You heard him laugh. Laugh! The balls on that man were something else, “Don’t worry Wolfie. I’ll be just fine.”

You shook your head following as closely behind as you could. You heard your WSO, Beamer, curse behind you as you pressed your jet on further, faster. She could do it. You knew her limits. It’s what Maverick trained you for. You were built for this. Ready for this.

“What’s wrong?” You continued looking for Hangman, but he was going just as fast as you were.

“Bogies ahead. Six o’clock. Two of them.” Beamer shouted from behind you spotting something on the radar.

“I don’t think they’re friendly Beamer. Fuck, Hangman, did you copy?” You gunned it trying your hardest to catch up, but the motherfucker had other plans.

“What’s that?” You could practically hear the smirk dripping off his face with that comment alone. It took everything in your not to scream at the idiot of a man. You needed to get the hell over there to help him, but he was moving so god damn fast in the other direction. You’d never be able to catch him. Faster it was.

“Not friendly! Bandits! Six and eight Hangman!” Beamer shouted back in just as much frustration you seemed to be in. He didn’t have a back seater letting him know when objects were incoming. He was flying into what looked to be a trap.

“Shit.” You heard a pause before all hell broke loose on his end, “Wolf, got one on my ass.” He grunted.

“I’m on my way.” Panic rose through your chest, but you couldn’t freak out. Not yet anyway. This is when you needed to relax. Focus on the problem. The bandits. You needed to take the bastard that was following Hangman out. Calm down. Slow your heartbeat. Speed up. You could do this.

“Beamer, where are they?” You asked seemingly losing sight of them once you made it through the cloud bank. Where in the hell was that second bandit?

“20 degrees to your left, now!” He answered quickly forcing you to divert left. You dove seeing the planes up ahead. F-18 vs F-18 Super Hornet, it was up to the best pilot now. You gulped kicking up your speed even faster. Ignoring the grunt of your WSO you knew he was likely being flown into something bad. Hurry Wolf. Hurry. You pressed forward even faster. 690 knots ticketed upwards of 700 knots. You were blazing through the atmosphere. It was a damn good thing he was flying low, or you wouldn’t have been able to catch up.

710 knots. That was officially the fast you’ve ever flown. It didn’t seem like enough though. Like you weren’t going to make it soon enough.

“Hangman! Bank right 45 degrees.” You yelled knowing it’d give you a little more of a chance to catch up.

Thank God he actually fucking listened to you this time. His jet turned forcing the other F-18 to overshoot a bit. You knew the plan and had already been banking giving you the perfect shot on the enemy jet.

“Lock on Beamer!” You were yelling at your wizzo now. Sweat poured down your face as you maneuvered into a better position to help him lock onto the clueless pilot.

"Target locked!" He pressed on the second you heard the lock sound.

“Firing missiles.” As quickly as he spoke your hands were hitting the joy sticks. One second. Two. Three and then four.

“Target hit!” Beamer yelled out in joy seeing one of the missiles land dead on. You let out a sigh of relief seeing the other pilot was able to eject on time. As fucked up as everything was you never wanted to take a life. You’d always prayed they’d make it out in time. You’ve taken three jets down now. Tied with Jake. You saw two eject. You pretended the third did.

The celebration didn’t last for too long when you heard your jet being locked on, “Fuck.” You grumbled immediately heading for a nosedive. There was that second bandit. In hindsight you probably should’ve took your jet straight up, not down. You didn’t have much air space left to utilize at such a low altitude.

“Wolfie! 30 degrees to your right.” Hangman didn’t elaborate any further.

You had to trust him. That was rule number one in the field. Always trust your wingman and vice versa. Listening to him you punched it after leveling out and turning your joystick to the right.

“Shit, missed the shot.” Hangman grumbled, “Keep flying, I’ll come back around.”

“Hang on.” You spoke to Beamer after hearing his miss. Pressing the throttle all the way forward you nearly stalled the engines that were starving for the oxygen rich air.

“What are you doing?” Your WSO nearly gasped hearing almost every alarm on the jet ring simultaneously. You were going to starve the fucking engines if you didn’t move soon.

You smiled knowing this move was saved for very special occasions, “A move Maverick taught me.”

“Oh Christ.” He closed his eyes knowing whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be good for him. You were probably going to bend the damn air frame or something crazy like that. Mav tried to teach everybody. You were just one of the few who actually tried his bat shit insane moves.

“Relax B.” You grinned punching it once you saw the enemy jet fly by you.

“I’m going to throw up.” You could hear the sarcasm on his voice. He grunted as his butt hit the seat after floating for far too long.

You laughed pushing your jet once again. 620 knots. 630. 640. Come on baby. Let’s get moving.

“You’re about as well trained as Hangman up here. Puking over a little g-force?” You snickered to yourself knowing you could gut punch the both of them. Two birds one stone or whatever they say.

“Hey!” You heard both of them shout in unison. Men. They were just too fucking easy.

690 knots. 700. You heard Beamer groan from the back seat. You were really putting him through it on this mission weren’t you? A little bit more and you’d be able to shoot that jet down too. 710.

The smile adorning your face probably looked maniacal. But you didn’t care. You entered into another zone when you were in the air. It was kill or be killed in the air. Notably when you were in a dogfight. The odds were even higher.

“Target locked!”

You barely heard your wizzo before you fired for the jet ahead.

“Target hit!” He yelled in triumph. You slowed down before making a turn looking for a parachute. For anything. Kill number four. Ahead of Jake. One behind Mav. Two kills in one run. That was pretty damn remarkable. You heard muffled cheers in your ears but didn’t see a parachute. Four kills. Two chutes. Two nothings. Did that make you a killer?

“What the fuck was that?” You tossed your helmet to the side walking towards him. Charging towards him really. He just got you so damn worked up. The fucking idiot he was. A dumb arrogant idiot asshole. Now, you just needed to say it to his face.

He cocked his head to the side, “Thought I had him.” A slow smile spreading over his face seeing you so worked up.

You would’ve loved to punch him square in the nose, but you were on the carrier. In the middle of the ocean. That was the dumbest thing you could probably do. You weren’t even looking for a fucking thanks. Just an apology would be nice, “You’re such a…” You scrunched your nose up once you got to him. He was taller than you, by a lot. Still didn’t intimidate you. But you had to look up to him, quite literally.

His smirk grew, “Yes, doll? I’m a what?”

Shaking your head your pointed your finger right as his chest, “Fool. Jake Seresin. You’re such a damn fool.” You nearly hissed before spun around walking back for your helmet. You’d probably need to get that checked out. You threw it down pretty hard in your fit of rage.

In all your time working with him had you been so angry with the man. Hell, you’d even respected him a tad before this mission. The two of you were never close but you seemed to work well together, train well together. You knew his type and you were able to deal with it.

“Hey there! Slow down.” He grabbed your arm gently before your yanked it right back from him, “Have you been watching those sappy love drama movies? What’s it called? Pride and something? Fool. Who says that?” You felt the blood inside you boiling now. He really knew how to push it.

Giving him an almost bewildered look, you answered him, “Can you take anything seriously?” It was evident you were more than angry now. He knew he needed to tone down the jokes.

He put his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry then.” He didn’t look sorry. Words meant nothing to you. Words were useless without action. Pointless. Words got people killed. Actions did too but words always stung worse.

You shook your head not accepting his apology, “For what Hangman? What are you actually sorry for?” It wasn’t the anger that got to him it was the sheer look of disappointment that crossed your eyes that made him reevaluate everything.

“I’m sorry you got chased.” He sounded unsure of his reply. Like he didn’t really know what he was apologizing for. Did he? Did he know why you were so upset? He didn’t. He didn’t have a clue.

You rolled your eyes before walking away again. You had to give him a bit of credit though, he sure kept tying, “You just don’t get it.” You sighed walking towards the locker rooms. At least there you’d get a reprieve from the arrogant man.

He panicked and followed you, “Get what?”

You stopped dead in your tracks. You weren’t like the other guys in your squadron. You loved flying but you hated killing. Hated the thought of taking somebody away from their families. It hurt you. Destroyed you. You thought about leaving for just that reason. And today? You’d probably killed a man or woman. Maybe even two. You never actually knew. And it was for nothing. It shouldn’t have happened. If he would’ve just listened to you the bandits wouldn’t have even spotted you. All that for naught.

“You think I like taking jets down? Killing people? Do you seriously think that I find enjoyment out of that? It makes me sick when I have to do things like that. That could’ve been somebodies dad. Somebodies daughter. Who the fuck knows Jake? I don’t. I never will. And now they’re just gone?” You were whisper shouting now. You’d never admitted anything like this to anybody. Not even your family. No therapist, military or civilian knew either. They didn’t need to know. So, you didn’t tell them. Not a soul, “If you just would have fucking listened to me I wouldn’t have had to do that!” Your voice was shaky now as you took off for the locker rooms. Tears on the edge of spilling over. You peered around thankful nobody was in ear shot. It was never a good thing to cry at work. You had like fifteen minutes before you had to report back for debrief. Fifteen minutes to get it the fuck together.

Jake just stood there as you dashed away. He could’ve followed but he knew you needed your space. You looked so hurt. So betrayed. He walked over to the locker room waiting for you to come out. You had to come out at some point.

He grabbed you when you walked out of the locker room. Your allowed yourself to cry for a few moments before you snapped it back together. You just hoped it didn’t show in your eyes.

It did. Jake saw it through your tear stained cheeks and your red rimmed eyes. He frowned feeling awful, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I… I wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly.” You refused to look at him. You were still upset. You’d be upset for a little bit before you’d shake it off. It’s not like you had a choice. You’d have to fly with him again. You would have to figure this out at some point.

He looked down hearing the icy snap coming from you. You weren’t usually so forward with your emotions. Usually, you were cool calm and collected one. The one that fell in line. The one who knew her place was limited as a woman, and she needed to be strategic about it.

“Either say something or let me go. We’ve got a debriefing to get to.”

He snapped out of it, “They’ll wait on us, come on.” He took your hand without a second thought guiding you to the side of the carrier. He was smart, not many people came over here. There was a very low chance of getting caught back here. You let him guide you without much thought. You were afraid to admit how much his touch had an effect on you. It felt like there was a fire ignited in your fingertips creeping up your arm.

You didn’t want to admit that’s also why you were so worked up. You didn’t know how to tell the man that you had a rather large crush on him. How you wanted to be the one he flirted with at the bars. How you wanted to be the one he was so dead set on kissing at the end of the night. Who he got to take home. You wanted it. You and only you.

Only problem is you were you. You were one of the dudes. Wolfie. You’d gotten your call sign because you were all bark and all bite. You followed through. Tough as a wolf backed against a wall. You were flattered, truly. But it made you a guy. Not a girl. Not somebody he would think of. You’d probably be better off if you just cut it off altogether with Navy men and went for a civ guy. It’d be easier. Less games.

His expression softened seeing you in the anxious state you were in. You really didn’t like conflict. You didn’t enjoy being mad at people. You were a simple girl who liked resolution. It wasn’t like you get so angry, “Look, Y/N…” He sighed. He wasn’t good at this either. Sure, Hangman was a persona but owning up to mistakes that could’ve cost you your life? That was tough.

“I fucked up Y/N. I shouldn’t have done that. I overestimated my abilities. I could’ve gotten you hurt. I could’ve gotten shot down. It was dumb. And I put you in an awful spot. I’m so sorry. Truly.” He rambled off quickly.

Your eyes narrowed as your searched for any sort of sarcasm, “You mean it?”

He nodded his head looking away from you, “Yeah. I messed up.”

Unfolding your arms from your chest you gave him a curt nod, “Okay.”

“Okay?” He looked at you with a newfound hope in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. It’s fine. Don’t do it again you dumb arrogant asshole.” A small smile crept over your lips letting him know you were just teasing. There was some hint of truth there though. He was a dumb arrogant asshole in that moment.

He pulled you into a hug. One that was different than the normal ones he gave you. This one was more meaningful. More thoughtful. He squeezed you a little bit tighter than he ever had before. Pulled you into his chest just a touch harder. He held you a little bit longer than usual.

“Thank you for saving my ass.” He whispered once he let you go from his embrace.

“I got your back. Any day. Any night. You know that Seresin.”

He nodding pulling you back in. How had he not seen it before? How had he not seen the treasure that you were right in front of his face. God, you were striking. You were everything he needed in a life partner. You were incredibly smart, so self-assured, beautiful beyond words, wittier than he could ever imagine, made him smile when he needed it, knew the right words too say… he was a dumb arrogant asshole. He liked you. Hell, he might’ve already fallen in love with you without even realizing it.

“Seeing that bandit chase you down was awful. And then when I missed… I’m so sorry. I failed you in every way.” You’d never heard Jake so sincere. Never heard him admit to so many fuck ups. It made you feel things you hadn’t ever before for him. Like he wasn’t just that fucking dickhead persona. There might’ve been a decent human being under the character you were sure he was playing.

You shrugged. Trying to play it off. You were never scared. You were determined to be the best in that moment. You had to be the best in that moment, or it could be you at the bottom of the ocean. A shiver ripped down your spine at the thought. It hit you sometimes just how damn dangerous your job was.

“It’s fine. Just listen next time? Okay?” It felt like for once you were actually getting through to the man. It’d been so surface level in the half a year you’d been stationed with him. This was a surprise, a pleasant one though.

“You got it Wolfie.” He smiled letting his hand drop from your shoulder. You really liked how it felt there. Not that you’d admit it.

“Let’s go. We gotta go get our asses chewed out by Cyclone.” You sighed not looking forward to it. It was supposed to be a simple bombing. Get it and get out. Clearly, that didn’t happen and now he probably had to do a lot more paperwork than he was expecting. Shooting down two enemy fighter jets was more serious than you would think. You were surely going to get interviewed over it.

“Don’t worry doll. I’ll take the heat.” He pushed you forward by placing his fingertips to the small of your back. You thanked your lucky stars you were in your flight suit, and he couldn’t see sheer amount of goosebumps that exploded across your body from his touch. God, how embarrassing. He didn’t even have to try, and you were already weak.

“You better. It was your fault after all.” You countered feeling more and more like yourself as you talked it out with Jake. This was the guy you had a mad crush on. Jake. Not Hangman. Jake Seresin, the cowboy from Texas.

He shook his head with a growing smile on his face, “You’re lucky you’re cute.” It slipped out so quickly Jake wasn’t sure if he actually said it. But there it was. It was out there now. You had to have known how adorable he really found you.

Your head whipped around quickly giving him your own version of a smirk, “You think?”

He had a choice. Play it off or go all in. He had hardly thought this was how his day was going to go. He didn’t even know he really liked you like that earlier this morning. Now here he was ready to admit to it? What in the hell was even happening? But who was he kidding? He’d be flat out lying to deny it. He wasn’t a liar.

“Know so.” He shot you a wink before grabbing a loop on your flight suit to keep you on pace with him. Fuck it. He’d decided he was going all in on you now. Might as well step his flirting game up with you while he was at it.

You were so shocked by his admission you hadn’t even realized the smooth ass move he pulled by literally pulling you along with him. The move was so confident you were practically on your knees already. He looked over seeing your dazed expression.

His deep chuckle brought you back to the present, “What’s the matter darlin’? Cat got your tongue?” He dropped his hand from the loop so close your chest.

You didn’t drop your eyes from his hand that had pulled you along with him, “No. Just thinking.”

“What about?” He raised his eyebrows challenging you. He was clearly feeling a whole lot better. He was laying it on thick.

“Work.” It wasn’t a lie. He was work. He was all you were able to think about.

He smirked as he knowingly brushed his hand along yours. God he was a pro. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, “Sure doll. I think you’re lying though. You were thinking about me.”

You shook your head quickly not daring to draw your hand away, “In your dreams Seresin.”

He ran his index finger along your pinky, taking any touch he could get, “What if I told you I dreamed about you last night?”

“Shut up.” You didn’t believe him as you pressed on.

“Got me thinking about you doll.” His long strides kept pace with your quicker shorter ones. He wasn’t letting you walk away from this one. Lucky for him it was at least a ten-minute walk to the captains office where you’d debrief. Plenty of time to get you admitting some feelings he knew you had. Not with those emotions he’d seen earlier.

“I said shut up Jake.” Rolling your eyes, you willed yourself to get to the captains office faster. He was so much taller it didn’t matter. You could be sprinting, and he’d still be right by your side.

He ignored you, “Thinking about how smart you are. How often you kick my ass. How often you save my ass.” His eyes lingered in your at that last statement.

“What are you doing?” You stopped looking at him desperately. What was he doing? Was he going to blow this whole nonexistent relationship up? It’s not like you were the best of friends to begin with. Casual acquaintances. Training enemies. Mission buddies who were far more successful than not. The two of you were dancing on something that was hardly even there.

He shrugged, “Telling you the truth.”

“Why?” You took a step back boxing yourself against the wall.

“Why not?” He took a step closer pinning you against the wall placing either hand next to your face. It was so silent you could’ve sworn he could hear the gulp you took trying to regain some composure. What in the hell was even happening right now? Sure, you’d been crushing on him for what feels like just as long as you’ve known him there’d been no sort of indication he’d had any inkling of interest.

“Anyway,” He only grinned seeing your face. You looked starstruck. Like you couldn’t believe what he was doing. Hell, he couldn’t believe what he was doing. He hadn’t even really properly thought it through. But he good feeling about it. A really fucking good feeling about it, “As I was saying. I was thinking about how fucking pretty you really are. Especially when you wear that yellow sundress. You’re a vision, Y/N.” He was so close. So, so close.

Your head spun with his scent and that admission. He smelled so fucking good. A mix of wood and cinnamon. It mixed with his natural musk oh so well. If you weren’t in the middle of the open you’d probably jump right on him intending to rip that suit right off of him. But you couldn’t those thoughts right now. Not when you were about to get your head chewed off. You were ten minutes late already. That was already a hole you had begun to dig yourself.

You looked from one of his eyes to the next. The overwhelming feeling to lean up and kiss his him was starting to take hold. What in the hell was the matter with you?

“Didn’t your momma teach you that lying’s bad?” You whispered. It was a way to ask for confirmation without straight up asking for it. A way for him to deny it for the lie it was.

He shook his head quickly, “I never lie. ‘Specially not to you doll face.”

Your mouth dried slightly. Your lips parted to respond before they closed. Cat really did get your tongue now, “Thank you, Jake.” You could hardly hear your whisper. But he sure did.

“Anytime darlin’. Now let’s go. Get this shit over with.” He took your hand in his once more. He wasn’t planning on dropping it until he got to that door.

He watched as you walked in. Fool. That’s exactly what he was. He was a damned fool not to see you right there in front of him. But he knew one thing. He wouldn’t let you slip away now that he knew what he had. You. He planned to make you the fool’s girlfriend soon. Very, very soon.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @dempy

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subskz · 9 months

Note

do you have any tips on writing? i wanna start my own blog and start writing, but im not sure where to start and how to make it sound good.

ofc! i do wanna preface by saying i’m by no means an expert, and when it comes to writing (or any form of creative expression) a lot of it is very subjective, so there’s not really any set standard for your writing to be considered “good” outside of basic writing/grammar rules! that being said, here are some things i do!

first just a few basic rules:

1.) start a new paragraph each time someone different is speaking

e.g. “What’s that?” she asked, tilting her head in the direction of the other room.

He squinted, taking a moment to listen carefully before another dull thud echoed through the door. “Not sure,” he replied. “Let’s check it out.”

2.) when seperating dialogue, don’t capitalize dialogue tags, treat the text in quotations and outside of quotations as if they’re the same sentence. this is one i didn’t learn until quite recently actually…😭

e.g. “Oh my God,” she muttered. “Why are you so difficult?”

The exception to this would be if the dialogue is seperated by a different sentence!

e.g. “Oh my God.” She was clearly fed up, running a hand down her face with a huff. “Why are you so difficult?”

3.) when a character is quoting something within their dialogue, don’t use quotation marks (“”), use apostrophes (‘’)

e.g. “He told me “do what you want”, so I will.” (this is wrong)

“He told me ‘do what you want’, so I will.” (this is right!)

as for writing tips, these are just some things that i personally do when i write! they’re not necessarily the right way to go abt it, so only follow the advice you want! i also talked a bit abt motivation here

include actions w dialogue! this can keep things from getting monotonous (like a constant back and forth of “he said” “she said” with little in between) and can also emphasize what the characters are saying! for example, instead of writing “he replied dismissively” you could say “he replied, giving a dismissive wave of his hand” or instead of “she said in exasperation” you could say “she rolled her eyes as she spoke” just little things like that to enhance the dialogue. ofc, keeping it simple is necessary sometimes so don’t overdo this!

that brings me to another point, adverbs aren’t bad (i use them a lot!) but sometimes what ur trying to say could be better expressed with just one word. it can get a bit repetitive if things are always described like “said awkwardly” “laughed loudly” “touched softly” etc. you might be able to find a word that gets the point across better. for example, “said irritably” could be “huffed”, “walked casually” could be “sauntered”, “smiled brightly” could be “beamed” and so on. but there are plenty of cases where adverbs are super useful so definitely don’t avoid them altogether!! i just try to make sure i dont use a bunch in a row

simple dialogue tags like “said” “asked” “replied” are your friend!! don’t avoid using them just bc they might seem generic hehe esp if you’re substituting them w verbs that are less appropriate simply for the sake of not using “said”

sometimes, you’re better off not including dialogue at all! like the whole premise of “show, don’t tell”, spelling out every last thing for the reader can sometimes work against you. body language and cultivating an atmosphere is key here! if it’s an awkward situation, you could bring up someone averting their eyes, shifting from side to side, playing with their fingers etc. if it’s a serious situation, you could mention their tensed shoulders/facial expression, their jaw clenching, them pulling away when someone tries to touch them etc. that in itself tells a story! but once again, it’s just abt using methods like these at the right times. sometimes, exposition is necessary

if ur writing abt skz, or any muse really, i think including mentions of their features/habits makes it more fun to read! it can help immerse the reader if u bring up traits that capture the character’s essence, or speech patterns that capture their voice. it’s all fictional ofc and just based off our perception of them, but i like to write skz in a way that’s at least somewhat believable in accordance w their personalities! even little things like the way jisung talks through breathy giggles, binnie’s nose scrunches, how minho looks up when he’s thinking, or how jeongin ends his sentences with a cute nod sometimes. and ofc there’s physical details as well like binnie’s chin scar, chan’s dimples, hannie’s cheek mole etc

this one is probably obvious but paragraph breaks are very important!! both to prevent overwhelming the reader with a huge block of words, and for organizing events/building tension! a paragraph never strictly has to be multiple sentences, you can have a single isolated line of text if you want. timing paragraph breaks can be very effective for creating the right vibe! if something intense is happening, putting a break right after a serious action or putting a single line of dialogue on its own can make them stand out and really add to the drama of it all hehe

don’t worry too much abt using the same word multiple times!! it might feel a lil annoying when you have to repeat a word several times in a paragraph but sometimes that’s the only option there is. if you try to replace it w 10 different synonyms instead of just referring to a book as a book, then it might end up sounding even goofier haha…so try not to stress when you feel like you’re overusing a word!

if you want your writing to be more immersive, take all senses into account!! describe more than just the character’s actions—describe sights, smells, sounds, touch, how the characters are feeling, etc!

arguably the biggest piece of advice i could give!! having varied sentence structure/length is one of the most challenging parts of writing in my opinion but so so important. when smth sounds off in your writing, it could very often be bc of the way a sentence is structured, or bc several sentences back to back are similar in length/format, which makes it flow awkwardly. i think making sure ur sentences range from long, detailed ones w several clauses, commas, semicolons, em dashes etc. to short, direct ones keeps the writing engaging! sometimes combining 2 short sentences can make the flow sound better, and sometimes breaking down a long one does the same! it also makes it a lot more effective when you have a sudden short sentence amidst several longer ones, bc there’s a clear shift in tone! generally just try to avoid having an entire paragraph of sentences that go “she did this and then this. then she did this and then this. then she did this and said that.” the variety will work wonders for how it all connects together!

ofc there are some situations where you might be going for a certain feeling or tone w your writing, in which case it can actually be a useful tactic to have repetitive sentence length/structure. maybe you want a scene to feel overwhelming w several long, complex sentences or you want to really drive in an idea by using blunt, disjointed ones. it’s all abt what you hope to achieve w your writing and your personal preference!

i hope this helps!! once again this isn’t the be all end all, so please only follow what you see fit! if you have any other questions let me know, i’m wishing you the best of luck! ^_^

#ask

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motherstone · 18 days

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Silas's true colors

Ok, y'see @chi-the-idiot and I have been losing our minds when we combined our observations about Silas, and I thought it's developed enough to be a meta post about him and his actual character.

He's not a good person. He's not even a "flawed" misunderstood type - nope, just straight up someone who genuinely doesn't have the wellbeing of others in mind.

Main Points

Silas has always been suspicious since Book 1

Leon has a miscommunication with Emily about Silas’s intentions.

He assumed that Silas passed away too soon to tell Emily his noble goals. Thing is, if that was truly Silas’s intention, he would’ve prioritized saying that on his deathbed, especially when he’s fully aware he’s going to bite the dust soon.

Except he didn’t.

From the get go, Silas first attempt to hook Emily into claiming the Amulet is that it grants power and authority - not the ability to help other people.

Indeed, Silas’s last laments weren’t even about his failure to help the Resistance, but rather his failure to achieve great power. When Emily makes it clear that she’s not interested in it, Silas makes a point to switch tactics, and this time properly nails Emily’s actual desire - an ability to return to a time she’s happier.

And then, proceeds to give the worst possible advice to Emily about stonekeeping - listening to the stone (Which we already know, it’s a horrible idea). And to add insult to injury, he wistfully wishes that he at the very least could partake in the Amulet’s blessings would apparently gift Emily with, but alas, the bell tolls.

What’s even more sinister is Silas’s last words to Emily’s valid question of “why me?”

Silas already knows Emily won’t be able to reject the stone to begin with. It’s not a stretch that he manufactured or at the very least allowed the events to happen that would lead to such a situation.

From start to finish, this was a sales pitch. A trap. And Emily has so very little choice but to take the bait - all hook, line, and sinker.

2. Miskit’s design and potential purpose (All Chi's notes)

Chi brought it up to me about her suspicions about Miskit’s design.

Miskit’s design looks like a plushie - he’s small, cute, all round features unlike the harder edges of bots like Cogsley or Theodore.

For one, it’s quite unique and unusual, even among bots seen in the series. But especially when compared to the rest of the Charnon bots:

Put Miskit there and he sticks out like a sore thumb.

Oh, and also, he’s Silas’s apprentice and has all his knowledge stored in his memory banks. Which is. A very weird design choice. You’d think an adult like Silas would design a bot that matches him more - but Miskit looks out of place when put beside Silas.

Unless, Miskit wasn’t built for Silas’s sake.

But rather, for his successor, Chi noted. A child successor.

Miskit, standing next to Emily, looks like a perfect match. He was built to be her companion from the get go. Silas was never going to choose his son or Karen for the stone - he had the intention of an adult succeeding him to begin with. Miskit’s design, in context of the story, is meant to emotionally manipulate the successor, because Silas wanted someone malleable, someone who is yet to grow into their place and their sense of self, and who is more perfect for such a role than a child?

3. The Charnon bots and their reliance on Silas's stone.

I want you to take note of some things:

Emily’s stone fizzled out the same time Silas died, meaning his life force is connected to it.

2. Pink energy glows and crackles in the bots' eyes.

It goes unstated, but it’s clear that Silas uses his stone to power the house AND the bots. The lights and bots going out isn’t for dramatic effect nor the stone shutting down - it’s Silas’s will over the magic spell that keeps them up running fizzling out at the same time as his life does.

Signature pink energy crackling as they're restored back to life - they're powered by their very creator, and currently, their new master.

The house lives as long the stone does. It’s why Miskit is so panicked when Silas dies and is frantic on begging Emily to accept the stone - aside from being saddled with a massive duty out of nowhere, their lives quite literally depend on it. Sure enough, when Emily accepts the stone, they all come back to life. I’d bet my entire shoe collection (which comprises three shoes) that had Emily rejected the stone, they, along the house, would remain stone dead.

Sounds reasonable enough that Silas would use his stone to power them - it is a power source after all.

But the thing is - he doesn’t need to do it.

We don’t get further context later, but then we get to see other bots in the series and -

They all operate independently of a stonekeeper providing them power to function. We get that confirmation as early as book 2.

Meaning Silas built in the bots' dependence on him from their inception - they’re quite literally chained to Silas by life. It’s true that they’re loyal to him by choice, but that’s all the more convenient for Silas, as he makes it quite clear that he has no intention of letting them go if they wish to - either they serve him, or die.

In other words - SILAS HAS ALWAYS BEEN A TERRIBLE PERSON. I don’t know what the fuck Kazu was thinking trying to retcon him as a flawed hero, but it’s obvious he was never a good guy to begin with. He’s a power hungry, control freak who’s a slave to his desires - there’s not an ounce of decency nor noble intentions in this man.

#motherstone meta #kazu kibuishi #silas charnon #amulet series #contrary to what you may think this just excites me so much #Me and Chi (excitedly): oh my GODDD this guy fucking sucks!!!#yessss broken pedestal babeyy I really wished the series went on this route but alas

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nothomegal · 1 year

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“The little owl family” (Part 3)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: typical mentions of murder, Mikey being obsessive and violent.

Word Count: 4k. (Sorry for so much text- )

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Both siblings have returned home after making a visit to the plice station. (Y/N) was a bit moody but mostly relieved that the police finally listened. They already visited the station, the day after finding the dinosaur drawing, but of course everyone thought they were crazy for freaking out over a scrible, saying that maybe some teens saw them around the Myers house and decided to prank them. They had non of it yet couldn't do much, the only advice the cop gave them was to close the doors and keep the inside of the house private.

Now however, when the police heard (S/N)'s testimony that's when they took it more serious. Sure, the probability of it being some dumbass dressing up to be funny was there, yet it worth checking just in case, specially when knowing that the real Michael Myers kidnapped his sister. And who knows, maybe he'll do the same but with some random child...

—"(Y/N)..."—

(S/N)'s gentle voice shut all overwhelming thoughts inside (Y/N)'s mind. They slowly put the knife next to the cooking board and look at their sister.

—"What is it songbird? Still scared?"—

The girl fidgets with her fingers a bit while staring on the tiled kitchen floor. Eventually she sighs and her arms drop.

—"I'm sorry..."—

(Y/N) blinks a couple of times, confused with their sudden apology.

—"Sorry? For what?"— you ask, genuinely confused.

—"For starting all this mess... I think Terry is right, I'm just a scaredy cat that overreacted."— she says, her expression guilty.

Their eyes widened slightly, they walk over to their sister and kneel in front of her.

—"You did nothing wrong sweetheart, you actually did the right thing! The police is there to help, to protect us."— you say softly as you cup her cheek. —"And you better get ready because tomorrow I'll say Terry some not-so-nice things to that goblin so he leaves you alone."—

—"It's... It's not about Terry anymore, it's about you (Y/N)."— she lowers her gaze even more. —"I- I don't like how much you have to worry now, and it's all because of me! If-... If I just stayed quiet, if I didn't ask to see that dumb old house we would be okay and happy, and we would be able to celebrate Halloween!... I ruined it all I- "—

Before (S/N) could continue with her rant, her sibling wraps their arms around her form tightly, holding her close in silence for a few seconds.

—"I said you did nothing wrong. This situation could've happe to anyone, and we got the unluky number. I know you're worried about me and I admit that I may not be at my best state, but it will pass eventually and everything will be right again."— you lean back a bit, your gaze warm. —"We just need to hold on a bit, until the police catches that scary man. I'm sure it will be soon."—

(S/N), more calm, nods as she wipes the little tears that were threatning to slide down her cheeks.

—"Was that man Michael Myers?... Is he the Boogeyman?..."—

(Y/N)'s body goes stiff as they think what to answer. They haven't told their sister about the stranger's identity, not wanting to scare her even further but it seems like (S/N) started to figure out the whole situation by herself.

—"I-... I don't know."— you sigh, but she doesn't seem convinced. —"Myers is supposed to be in the asylum and- "—

—"He escaped... Did he?"— she glances at you.

After a little pause, their sibling nods, their expression a bit sad, even ashamed for trying to keep her oblivious. But the girl had no anger or resentment in her eyes, but a desire to know.

—"What did he do so everyone are so scared of him?..."—

—"I'm... I'm not sure you want to know that... Long story short; very scary and bad things."—

—"What things? Please tell me (Y/N)! I promise I won't get scared!"— she begs you in a childish tone.

(Y/N) remains quiet, thinking. Eventually they sigh and stand up.

—"You better take a sit, I'll go get you a poptart."— you simply say.

The girl gets a little spine chill, both excited and worried about what her sibling is about to tell her. Ones the girl took her sit on the dining table and was munching the sweet treat, (Y/N) starts speaking while resuming their cooking.

—"Last year, a few days before Halloween, all grown up Michael Myers escaped. He killed people while doing it, and not in a pretty way..."—

(S/N) freezes mid bite.

—"K-Killed?..."—

—"Yes... Killed. One of the victims was one of his caretakers, a sweet old man that was there since he was a kid..."—

(Y/N) could see how physically uncomfortable their sister got, even if the details of how he killed him weren't mentioned. They began to feel bad for the little girl and were ready to stop the 'story telling', but the girl proved to be tougher than expected.

—"And what happened after he escaped?..."—

—"He... He tracked his little sister, that is now a teen. He murdered her adoptive parents, a friend and then kiddnapped her, nearly killing her as well in the process. The sister survived though, and Michael Myers supposedly died when she shot him, but as we can see he didn't..."—

The little girl listens quietly, taking in the information and shrinking on her sit every second, the munched poptart still untouched in her shaky hands.

—"Is he... Is he coming to kills us?"— she finally asks.

There are a few seconds of silence, until (Y/N) breaks it, their tone loud, strict, cold... Yet burning with anger and determination.

—"I won't allow it."— and you meant it. —"If he dares to come, I will break every single limb of his. He's not touching you while I'm still breathing."—

Such tone took (S/N) off guard, she never saw her sibling be so cold and serious about anything.

—"But... But what if he hurts you?..."—

—"He won't. Mom and dad won't allow him."— you reply with a softer tone and then turn towards her. —"Even if they're not here, they still taking care of us. We'll be okay, songbird. I promise."— you smile.

The girl remains silent, observing their expression to see if they're just pretending, but (Y/N)'s look and words seemed genuine. She eventually smiles back with a toothy grin.

—"You're right! Bet the ghost of mom and dad are going to haunt him if he dares to come!"—

—"Oh they definetely will! Dad was scary but angry mom was even scarier!"—

And the dull atmosphere from before vanished in a blink of an eye, the siblings talking about random topic which would make them either laugh or argue. The tunes coming out from the speaker only made their afternoon even better, singing or even dancing, anything to keep the dark thoughts away.

But of course, they weren't enjoying it alone. The dark presence was outside, hiding in the shadows. Even though he couldn't see (Y/N) through the windows anymore, due to the curtains they strictly maintained closed, their tone alone was enough to make him feel the same adrenaline spike, his chest heavy with some sort of excitement. The way their cold voice managed to penetrate and shake every single bone and muscle inside of him was an indescribable feeling, yet so, so adicting. They knew who he is, the atrocities he commited and how much of a threat he is, yet they made it clear how many fucks they give about it, only worrying about the safety of the little one.

And now... Now that the atmosphere inside of the house changed, so did his mood. The way they both laughed, chanted, danced... Every single interaction between these two radiated with warmth, warmth strong enough to keep the crude outside world away from their little happy home.

From their little happy family...

Happy family...

He should be envious of them, he should be mad at them for having what he could never have, she should try to destroy it, to destroy the both of them so he stops feeling bad...!

But... He doesn't. He doesn't feel bad at all, none of these negative and destructive feelings are haunting him, not ones. It's the oposite, he actually feels warmth whenever he observes them, some alien coziness that unknowingly to him would make his body relax and gaze soft. He's not sure why he feels like this, but he can't deny the fact that if feels good... Peaceful, he feels at peace for ones in his wretched life.

He should be content with that, with what he has it should be enough, it should... But he knows that his mind will crave for more...

And it's only a matter of time before he loses control.

. . .

October 28th.

The last couple of days been pretty uneventful, the 'Boogeyman' wasn't mentioned anymore and didn't appear ones, even the owl family resumed their carefree lifestyle and were already teaching their babies to fly!

But unfortunately, tonight the siblings couldn't observe the birds due to a hard storm outside. Rain, wind, thunder, you named it all.

(S/N) was in (Y/N)'s room, she was quite scared of thunders so of course she would ask to sleep with their sibling who, unlike the young one, was probably having the best sleep of their life.

The bed was quite wide so they both fit without any issue, each one with their own blanket.

At some point though, a particulary loud thunder resonated, which made (S/N) cuddle closed to (Y/N). The mentioned sibling woke up due the loud sound but thought nothing of it, ready to close their eyes and go back to sleep.

But suddenly, an alarming feeling striked in their gut. Something felt wrong, is the air colder? Heavier? Is their heartbeat too loud? Is the house too silent? It's hard to tell what exactply isn't right, but they know something is.

They suddenly sit up, their eyes wide and staring at the door. The little girl felt the sudden movement and also sit up, though her form sleepy and confused.

—"Uh?... What's wrong?"— she mumbles before yawning.

—"...I don't know."— you reply, still staring at the door.

The girl blinks a couple of times and also looks at the door. They both remain in this position completely still, barely breathing, until a very faint thud resonated somewhere downstairs. Sure, the noise could mean whatever, but the sense of dread inside of (Y/N) only increased, demanding them to take actions.

—"{Songbird.}"— you whisper, your tone urgent. —"{I want you to tiptoe towards the closet and hide in there, do not come out until I say so.}"—

—"{B-But- }"—

She has no time to ask questions because (Y/N) had stand up and was already searching under their bed for something. They eventually find what they've been looking for, a hunting rifle.

They then look up and glance at their sister, who was completely frozen on the bed with a horrified expression.

—"{Just go hide, please. And if things get ugly...}"— you pause, glancing at the door briefly. —"{Then run away, run towards our next house neighbors and ask them to call the police, okay?"}—

—"{But (Y/N)!... Y-You-...}"—

They nudge her side gently, silently telling her to stop talking and hide. With a huge effort the girl manages to make her body move again and as quietly as she could she made her way towards the closet, hiding her form inside and gently closing the door.

(Y/N) remained in place, near the bed with the rifle already pointing at the door. For solid five minutes absolutely nothing happened, the wind kept howling, the rain pouring and the thunders striking, but nothing else, there were no more odd sounds inside the hou-

Footsteps, the unmistakable sound of footsteps resonated from the stairs. Whoever was walking was doing it slowly, casually even, as if they owned the place. (Y/N) kept their posture, pre aiming at the door and simply waiting, if the intruder is bold enough to enter into their room they'll shoot without thinking twice. Sure, the idea of killing another human is scary and definetely puts their mind even more on edge, but it's either their and (S/N)'s or the intruder's life.

The footsteps eventually stop right in front of the door. There are another good few minutes of silence but it's suddenly interrupted by a loud and bright thunder, which illuminated the whole room and the hall. And right there, through the door crack, they saw an unmistakable shadow of a human.

With no time to waste and with enough evidence that there is an intruder, (Y/N) pulls the trigger.

BANG!

A faint line of smoke is coming out the rifle, but there was no thud or screams of pain at the other side of the door, nothing.

They remain in position for a while but after not hearing anything, or seeing through the tiny hole they just made, (Y/N) slowly lowers the gun, questioning if there even was someone or it's actually their unhealthy paranoia getting the best of them.

They got their answer when the door practically flew off it's hanles and a giant dark mass charged at them. They try to aim and shoot again but the intruder is way faster and manages to grab the end of the rifle and tilt it up the moment (Y/N) pulls the trigger again, making them shoot at the ceiling.

They both struggle, (Y/N) desperately trying to get the gun free but the intruder is way too strong, he's also big, which makes it nearly impossible to push away.

Realizing that things are actually about to get ugly, they shout.

—"(S/N)! RUN!"—

The closet door swings open and the little girl sprints out the room, quietly crying and extremely scared. The massive stranger stopped for a brief moment when he heard the girl, it was just a moment of stillness that ended up with him practically ripping off the rifle out of (Y/N)'s grasp and throwing it agains the wall with great force.

The next thing they know is that the intruder managed to get to their neck. Ones has a firm hold of it, he stands up to his full height and slams their body against the wall, knocking out any oxygen left in their lungs. It didn't stop (Y/N) from struggling though, doing their best to land a kick on his stomack or the lower (and more painful) parts, yet their attempts were cut short when the stranger began to squeeze their neck with both hands, making their struggles weaker.

Eventually, the lack of oxygen began to affect (Y/N) and their arms drop and their body goes numb. Only when they nearly fainted, is when the stranger lose his grip, not enough to let go but enough to let them breathe as they're kept in place.

Durning this little moment of calm another thunder striked and illuminated the room, allowing them to see the emotionless face of the stranger, staring right into their sould.

—"{Myers...}"— you mouth breathlessly.

A sudden little thud followed by a rubber squeak got their attention. (Y/N)'s eyes wide and fill with terror when they see (S/N) standing in the doorway with a little pile of toys in one arm.

—"Leave them alone! You ugly monster!"—

She exclaims as she throws another toy into Michael's broad back, the toy making little to no harm. The man merely glances over his shoulder, his gaze now focused on her little frame.

—"You're mad at us because we visited your home, are you?! (Y/N) did absolutelly nothing wrong, we went there because of me! I am the guilty one! You should've punish me instead!"—

She exclaims again, tears sliding down her cheeks like rivers yet she didn't care. The girl stood high and threw another toy.

—"Or you want to take them away?! I know you have a little sister too, I- "— she hiccups a bit. —"I can be your new little sister! Please take me! Punish me! B-But please! Please leave (Y/N) alone!"—

The girl ends up desperately sobbing, both scared of the man in front of her and the fact that her sibling may disappear forever. Michael slowly turns towards her as he lets go of (Y/N), their body falling into the floor as they gasp for air.

The man starts to slowly and menacingly walk towards (S/N). The girl suddenly realized the mess she just got herself into as she starts to back away, throwing the rest of her toys at the man in a desperate attempt to slow him down, but all they did is bounce off his body into the floor.

—"W-Wait! Ne-Never mind! I- I ch-changed my mind! I don't want t-to go anywhere!"— she lets out a squeak when her back hit the wall in the hall.

The massive man gets even closer, his shadow making the already dark house even darker, darkness that threatens to engulf anything and never let go. The girl lets out a terrified cry as she shields herself with her hands.

—"(Y/N)!"—

The desperate cry of their name made them regain their conscience quickly, they see Michael Myers being just two feets away from their sister, blocking any escape with his broad figure as he extends his hand towards the little girl. Oh god he's about to strangle her just like he attempted with them!

(S/N) is in danger.

They must save her.

No matter what.

But what both siblings failed to see, was the way Michael moved his arm towards the little girl. His movements where slow and smooth, no aggression reflected in them.

When he was about to brush his finger agains (S/N)'s arm, a spartan-like war cry resonated behind him and something cold was wrapped around his neck. (Y/N) tugs the thick wire back rougly, causing the behemoth to stumble backwards, leaving enough room for (S/N) to escape.

—"RUN GODDAMNIT!"— you yell.

And this time (S/N) listens, sprinting through the stairs as fast as her body allows, leaving the house and not return.

The struggle between Michael and (Y/N) continued, they held tightly into the wire, trying to squeaze it even more while Michael attempted to get them off his back. The man eventually gets the solution and slams his body, back first, agains the wall, but (Y/N) doesn't give up. He repeats this maneuver a couple of times until their grip is lose enough to peel them off him and throw them into the floor.

The fall didn't go well, (Y/N) ended up going face first into the floor, but whatever pain they felt is quickly overshadowed by the adrenaline rushing through their veins. They know they won't be able to kill this monster, they know they're going to die, they know they have no chance, they know... But they refuse to go down so easily.

Durning the struggle, it seems like the man dropped his weapon, which (Y/N) had already grabbed as they stand up again. They hold the knife tightly as they stare into the man’s eyes, blood was leaking through their nose down their chin like a river. And despite this, despite all of these disadvantages, they stand hight and ready to keep fighting.

The killer must think they’re insane for even daring to get back to their feet, that they’re delusional for attempting to fight back… But (Y/N) does not care, not when their most loved one is in danger.

Michael remains completely still, looking at (Y/N)’s form. The moment their eyes made contact again, the same spine chill jolted through his body. The feeling was electrifying, so adictive, it began to intoxicate his mind, his eyes half lidded and breath heavy. He shouldn't be like this, (Y/N)'s eyes should not cause his body to react like that, but he can't help it...

Their eyes... There was no fear on them, only cold rage, a burning determination to protect and fight back. This gaze could be compared to the one of a wild wolf protecting an injured member of their pack.

The sacrifice they were ready to make in order to protect their sister caused Michael to feel a bit of respect towards them... Maybe even admiration, no, obsession. He was obsessed with their eyes, with their voice, with them... He was obsessed with (Y/N).

They both remains still, but eventually, and to their misfortune, Michael makes a move. He charges at them but (Y/N) seemed to learn from their previous mistake as they step aside and make a clear slash on his shoulder, causing the man release a low groan.

They attempt to stab him on the neck but Michael quickly grabs their wrist mid attack and tightly squeezes it, to the point that he felt something pop inside and right after that the knife was released from their grasp. But (Y/N) still refused to give up, this time they attepts to land a hit on his face or grab his mask, attempt that was cut short when Michael pushed them into the floor and practically tackled them.

(Y/N) glares daggers at him, their gaze hateful.

—"Don't you get it you sick fuck?!"— you exclaim, voice full of anger.

Michael only tilts his head, action that only pisses (Y/N) off.

—"I am not stopping, I won't stop fighting, not when my sister is in danger! Not while I'm still breathing!"—

And after these words they start struggling under Michael's large body, as the man himself got entranced with them again. Their bloodied visage looked so beautiful to him for some reason, their eyes filled with hate, not only towards him, but towards everything in the world made his breath shake. If it was any other victim he would be frustrated with such behavior... But not with (Y/N), never with them.

At some point, their struggles began to morph into quiet sobs, desperate and disappointed. They were disappointed with themselves, their helplessness and their inability to protect (S/N), not from this monster. They failed her...

They look away and bite their lip, holding their cries as best as possible, not wanting this beast to see them cry, to give him the joy watching them slowly break. This new picture of (Y/N) caused something inside of Michael's chest squeeze painfully, this new broken and vulnerable (Y/N) was very different from the previous one. It may not cause him the same thrill, but in ignites a new emotion, something he though he lost very, very long ago...

Protectiveness.

The same one he felt when he saw Angel cry, when she cowered away from him before he tried to reveal himself... And even after she tried to escape, he still felt protective of her in his own way... And now he feels it towards (Y/N).

Michael's head then straightens as he began to lean down, closer to them. (Y/N) tries to use their last bits of strength to push him away, slow him down, anything to keep him away from killing them in that same instant. When they feel his large arms wrap around their form, they shut their eyes tightly, expecting to feel pain at any second as he breaks their body limb by limb... But that doesn't happen.

They keep their eyes closed for a solid minute, and when still nothing happen, they open them just to be greeted by Michael's large form holding them in a tight embrace. His body warm despite his clothes being wet, the heat slightly soothing any pain in (Y/N)'s body, but not their mind. Being this close they can feel how powerful and strong Michael's body is, even embraced they can barely move, he could easily break their spine at any moment with enough force if he wanted to...

But (Y/N) had no time to question it or had any strength to push him since the adrenaline started to worn off and their vision and senses to slowly black out.

They're not sure how long Michael held them, but eventually he let go and stood up as the plice sirens got closer. He throws one last glance at (Y/N)'s nearly unconscious form before grabbing his knife and walking away.

But, it wasn't the last time they will see him...

Because the monster inside of him will force him to return…

#nothomegal fic #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #michael myers x reader #gn reader #halloween #slasher x reader

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 14 days

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Different nonnie from the Tikki-Xuppu person, but what you said about Tikki’s personality fitting Order better than Creation made me think about how Pollen would’ve be a better fit for Creation symbolism-wise over Tikki given how much bees better fit that image over ladybugs with their beeswax, honey and hive-making, not to mention the intimate relationship humans of various cultures have had with bees for literal millennia. Even the restoration of Miraculous Ladybug fits bees better due to the connotations of pollination and how essential bees are for the world’s ecosystem. In a universe where Pollen was the kwami of Creation with Tikki’s canon powers (though with bee-theming of course) to Plagg’s Destruction, how do you think things would’ve gone with Marinette and Adrien while having their canon personalities? How do you think they would have played off of each other with their canon personalities?

(Post that spawned this ask)

Before we begin, I want to note that my answer is probably going to be at least a little biased by @zoe-oneesama Scarlet Lady comic because Pollen has a big role in that and Zoe's read on Pollen pretty closely matches mine. Do with that what you will.

This is the first Kwami swap that I could see working. Plagg's personality is so iconic that it's hard to imagine anyone being an improvement, but Tikki is pretty generic. While she has a clear personality, she has no real interests or hobbies that make her stand out. She's mostly just here to be cute and act as the writer's mouthpiece. While I hate that for her and think she deserves better, it does mean that booting her and replacing her with a different Kwami doesn't feel like you're breaking a core element of the show so long as her replacement plays off the other characters well.

We don't see much of Pollen in canon, so it's hard to get a great read on her, but she her love of calling Chloe "my Queen" and the fact that Pollen is a bee give me vibes of a loyal, devoted Kwami who thinks that her Chosen is the best thing ever no matter what. Compare that to Plagg who delights in tormenting his Chosen and there's major potential for some excellent banter and fun contrasting moments, which is what Tikki's replacement would need to be able to do. Tikki and Plagg's contrasting dynamic is a lot of fun and you wouldn't want to lose it. Pollen and Plagg's dynamic would be different, but in a similar enough vein that I think it could work. Which is actually a point in Pollen's favor. If she was just another Tikki, then there would be no point in making the switch.

While Tikki is often dishing out lectures, her most valuable role is building Marinette up in moments when Marinette is feeling down. Pollen should be able to do that no problem. If anything, Pollen may be a little too zealous in supporting Marinette, but since Marinette isn't often shown to listen to Tikki's advice, that's not really an issue. It could even be a new source of comedy where Marinette comes up with insane plans and Pollen hypes her up while the audience watches in fascinated horror. It could be a lot of fun and also give Alya a better chance to fill the voice-of-reason role that she's occasionally allowed to have. That's one of the many awkward things about Alya knowing now. Her and Tikki often fill the same role on the civilian side since Tikki isn't presented as a wise, ancient mentor who knows things that these kids don't.

I especially love the idea of a Kwami swap where Adrien is praised to death and then refuses to give Pollen back because he needs this right now, okay? His lady can have the cheese loving gremlin for a few days while Pollen floats after him, calling him a Queen and praising his every move. Maybe Pollen even starts sneaking into his backpack and leaving him whatever her favorite treats are as a little sign that he's appreciated, leading Plagg to get all territorial, which further validates Adrien. (I just really like comedy that has a sweet undertone, okay?)

Since we don't have a full understanding of Pollen's personality, I won't speculate further than that as I'm trying to avoid getting too far into the realms of headcanon, but I do really like this idea and think it could be a lot of fun. I even like the idea of Pollen as Creation because bees do make more sense than ladybugs from a theme perspective. Plus Ladybee was such an iconic look, one of the few good unifies, and a version of that without the red would still be fabulous!

#kwami swap discussion #anon ask

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unknownfacelessfanfictions · 6 months

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Living Sanctuary

Hemmer x fem!reader (can be read as romantic, however is more platonic with developing feelings) Words: 2.3K Summary: She never really learned anything about his home. Until one day she did Inspired by this post from @nichestartrekkie0-0 (If fanfics not your thing, just ignore this :)) so please chek out their art it's AMAZING

A drop of sweat ran down her forehead, down her temple, down her cheek and was wiped aside by her sleeve before it could fall to the floor.

Her arms felt heavy, but she didn't dare move them for fear that the objects in them would fall to the ground and shatter. Something she could not afford, after all, Hemmer needed these things. At least she was certain there was no harm in them.

The cooling system was offline and no matter how hard the engineers tried, it wasn't getting any better. In the end, it had turned out to be a fault in the system, which could be rectified by a simple reboot.

The problem: this reboot took several hours.

Hours in which the Enterprise had become uncomfortably warm, at least by her standards. She knew from Spock that he enjoyed the temperature and Uhura also had few problems with the change.

However, apart from the fact that everyone felt temperatures differently, she knew that there was one person who would not like it at all: Hemmer.

Based on what she had heard from some of the junior engineers, Hemmer was in an even worse mood than usual, and the temperature was so bad that M'Benga had sent him to his quarters to rest for fear that the Aenar would suffer heat exhaustion. Something that would be even more fatal for Hemmer's species than for her own. M'Benga had eventually interrupted her, lying panting on the sofa, and asked her to check on the Aenar. After all, they both knew how incredibly stubborn their friend could be.

She had agreed without hesitation. Hemmer might have his rough edges, some of them deadly sharp, but he had a heart of gold and she cared for him deeply.

He was a good friend on whom she had always been able to rely, so she would not let him down now. Even if he was still unaware of his luck.

With her elbow, she managed to press the button next to his door, alerting him that someone wanted to come in. For a few moments she stood in the corridor, people walking past her and looking at her strangely, wondering if he was even there. Perhaps he had thrown caution to the wind and gone back to work?

She immediately shook her head and dismissed the idea. Hemmer might be stubborn from time to time and not listen to advice, and when he did he did so reluctantly, but he was not self-destructive.

If Doctor M'Benga told him that the work posed a risk to his health, he would follow the doctor's instructions, grumpily, but he would do it.

Hemmer didn't give her much time to think about it. The doors opened and she quickly entered to avoid standing around stupidly in the corridor any longer. Inside it was only slightly less stiflingly hot than outside, but it wasn't any hotter either, which she saw as a plus.

She looked around searchingly, but couldn't spot the engineer. "Hemmer?" Carefully setting the items down on the sofa, she decided to take off her uniform jacket.

The top underneath would have to do, otherwise she would suffer from heat exhaustion. "Are you all right? Where are you?"

There was silence for a while and she began to wonder whether the door had opened by chance and he was actually somewhere else, but at that moment Hemmer's muffled voice rang out. "I'm fine."

She wheeled round to the bathroom where his voice had come from and only now did she realise the faint sound of falling water. Of course, she silently scolded herself. When the air was too hot, water was an excellent way to cool off.

With long strides, she walked to the door and stopped so that the opening sensor could not detect her. "May I come in?"

A grunt sounded and she frowned worriedly when an approving grumble came from Hemmer.

"M'Benga asked me to come round," she explained as she stepped into the bathroom. "Besides, I was worried about you, I mean, I'm almost dying in these temperatures, I can hardly imagine that it's pleasant for-" As soon as her gaze fell on Hemmer, she faltered and stopped, stunned by the sight before her.

Hemmer seemed to have noticed, as she fell silence surprised and huffed.

"I know I know, I look like a drowned beaver, or whatever you humans call it. But it's the only way to survive this heat."

She broke out of her stupor long enough to lift the corners of her mouth in slight amusement. "It's 'you look like a drowned rat'. And, that's not what caught me by surprise."

Even if this was of course partly to blame for her sudden hesitation, after all she had never seen her friend in such a position before. He sat on the floor of the shower, clever idea the tiles were also cold, and let the cool water run down his body. Consequently, his hair clung to his face in lengthy strands, while his antennae swayed in a dance-like manner, evading the droplets in a game known only to them. But as already mentioned, it wasn't that which had left her speechless.

It was the sight of Hemmer clad in nothing more than shorts, snugly embracing his well-defined muscles, stretching just halfway up his thighs, which intensified her warmth.

This alone would have been enough to induce a blush, but something else caught her off guard. The tattoos.

Dark blue, almost black, tattoos meandered in wavy patterns across his physique, from his chest to his shoulders to his arms, down to his legs and, she surmised, down to his back. They reminded her somewhat of the traditional tattoos of the Maori or the Polynesians, indigenous peoples of Earth, but at the same time they looked completely different, like two worlds at opposite ends of the galaxy.

Hemmer cleared his throat, apparently waiting for an answer, and she squatted down in front of him to be at eye level with him. It may not have done him much good, but she felt more comfortable not having to stare down at him. "Don't take offence, but I didn't expect to find my best friend naked in his shower."

"I'm not naked," he grumbled and she grinned slightly as he tugged at his trousers like a grumpy child. "Besides, I didn't realise you had tattoos." His antennae went up for a moment before returning to their dance and Hemmer frowned. "No? I thought you knew." She laughed softly as she watched drops of water drip down his cheekbones. "How was I supposed to know? It's not like you're regularly parading around half-naked in front of me."

"Do I hear disappointment?" His voice and his grin were provocative, teasing and elicited a laugh from her. "Definitely not." Still, she couldn't ignore the tingling in her stomach, even if she tried her best.

They were silent for a few moments before Hemmer sighed and gestured for her to come closer. "I can feel the heat radiating off you. What's the point of you falling over on me here?" He did his best to sound disinterested, but she knew him well enough to know that he was genuinely worried about her.

She hesitated for a moment, but decided that modesty really wasn't appropriate at this point, and kicked off her trousers and socks so that she was squatting in front of him in her top and panties. No problem, she thought to herself and shifted her weight onto her knees.

She crawled over to him and let out a low cry of shock as the cold water hit her heated skin. It felt like tiny needles were piercing her skin and she pulled back, however Hemmer didn't seem to let that happen.

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him with such force that she bounced against him and only prevented him from headbutting her by resting her hands on his chest. Not that she would have done anything to him.

She would have been the one with the concussion.

The cold water beat down on her mercilessly. She squealed and wriggled on Hemmer's lap, only realising later that she had landed there, but he didn't allow her to escape.

"You're burning up," he murmured and pulled her a little closer to him so that her hot skin was pressed against his pleasantly cool skin. "So stop squirming or I'll tie you up."

"Kinky," she murmured as her body seemed to slowly acclimatise to the difference in temperature. "Keep it down," came the reply and she grinned softly, slowly relaxing. The water felt good.

Gradually, she felt the feeling of stifling warmth disappear and her glowing skin lowered to temperatures that seemed more bearable, judging by the fact that Hemmer was now relaxing beneath her as well, even leaning into her touch.

"Aren't I too warm for you?" He just shook his head before leaning it against the tiled wall behind him, a slight smile on his face. "It's acceptable. Besides, I know my skin is cool enough to give you relief." She snorted at his posturing, but made no move to free herself from her place on his lap.

"Actually, I came to help you with that." He chuckled softly. It was a sound that came from deep in his chest, where she was still resting her hands, deep and real, and she felt warmth spreading through her again, but this time a different kind of warmth.

"I'm used to getting used to this kind of heat. Have you ever been to California? It was just as bad." She nodded, giving in to exhaustion after a while and leaning her head against his shoulder. "You are indeed nice and cool."

Her hands wandered from his chest to his arms when something struck her and made her lift her head. "Wait, are your tattoos prominent?"

Her fingers danced over the patterns of his tattoos, eliciting a shudder from him that she didn't realise, and sure enough, she could tell that the tattoos weren't just ink poked under the skin, but actually stood out with slight bulges.

They were barely noticeable unless you were sitting half-naked on top of each other, though she guessed it was a lot easier for the heightened senses of the Aenar to detect.

"It would be strange any other way," Hemmer returned with amusement, placing a hand on hers and running it along his collarbone. "Considering we Aenar are blind." Heat rose to her face. She had actually forgotten for a moment that Hemmer himself was blind.

" They're beautiful," she murmured softly, fascinated as she continued to run her fingers tentatively over the patterns of his skin. "You are beautiful." Hemmer left it uncommented, but closed his eyes and his antennae followed her movements.

"Do they mean anything?" He nodded slightly and guided her hand to his upper right arm, where a ring wrapped around his bicep. "Every male Aenar gets a tattoo like this when he comes of age. It's a symbol that we're old enough to serve our people and contribute."

Next, he went to some lines that snaked down his neck to his shoulder blades. To reach them, she had to lean so close to him that his hot breath brushed her face. "These lines symbolise my connection to my family. Can you feel the corners where they end?" She breathed in agreement. "Each of those corners represents a member of my family." There were five in total.

Next, their hands travelled together to his thighs. "These tattoos symbolise the balance of our society, our harmony with nature. The Aenar must live in tune with their environment and learn to live with it to prevent the deadly cold from overtaking them. They humble us, in a good way, and remind us of our place in this world, this universe."

Finally, Hemmer brought her hand to his chest, where the lines formed an intricate pattern that she could not describe in words. "These represent my devotion to healing, to repairing. They are not mandatory among the Aenar, but this pattern represents our pacifist representations. They visualise my duty, my morals, my life."

He did not guide her hand further, but did not release it, so that her hands, covered by his, rested on his chest. Her gaze fell on his left forearm, which was the only part of his body, with the exception of his face, that was completely free.

"And what about here? Is there a reason why there are no tattoos here? Or is it some kind of cultural ban on having them there?" Hemmer shook his head, chuckling softly, and carefully clasped his hands with hers, causing her breath to hitch.

"It's not a cultural taboo to have tattoos there, quite the opposite. The tattoos there represent the family you have established. After the wedding, a band of blue colour is applied below the elbow, decorated with small ornaments. For each child born from this marriage, another band is added."

Fascinated, she looked at his arm and, releasing her left hand from his, ran it over his skin, where a marriage bond would probably be visible in the future. "And what if you get divorced? Are these tattoos reversible?"

"No." Hemmer took her hand in his again and traced invisible patterns on the back of her hand. "However, divorces are very, very rare for us. We choose our partners with great care, nothing less than perfect comes into question."

She slowly raised her eyes and released her hands to continue tracing the patterns on his skin. "So, has anyone caught your eye yet?"

A hint of a smile appeared on his lips and he carefully lifted his hand to brush a wet strand of hair that was stuck to her face behind her ear, where it remained against her cheek. "Maybe."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@bigblissandlove1

@akamitrani

@moonlightshaiku

@indignantlemur

#star trek #star trek strange enw worlds #star trek snw #star trek x reader #hemmer x reader #hemmer x you #chief hemmer x reader #hemmer snw #hemmer #chief hemmer #lieutenant hemmer

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maleyanderecafe · 3 months

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Kanau (Kinetic Novel)

Created by: Chattercap

Genre: Horror/Romance

Kanau is the prequel to Karamu and man is it as amazing as the first game, if not more so. I actually think I like this one better because of how it builds more from the first game and the fact that we get to essentially see the origin story for Raku as a yandere. There is one more game to this trilogy that is currently being made, so I can't wait to see it when it comes out. If you like this game, be sure to see more at @chattercap.

The story starts out with a college boy named Carter who is lost in the woods. While walking, he meets a young boy named Raku who promises to help him out of the woods. The two of them talk to each other for a bit, with Carter asking him why he's in the woods in the first place. Raku seems hesitant, but talks about how he wants to get away from his family, how his mother is especially harsh to him, how she favors his sister and how he really doesn't want to partake in the family traditions that he now has to accept. Carter listens and offers him advice on how he should set boundaries with his parents, even giving a story about how he would fight with his dad sometimes when he was Raku's age. He talks about how he has to pick up his 17 year old sister later and how he spent two months of his paycheck to get his dad something expensive. Raku seems to have a change of heart and tries to lead Carter elsewhere before being suddenly confronted by his mother. His mother expresses great disappointment in him, lamenting at the fact that he was trying to let his prey escape. Raku tries to set his boundaries as Carter had advised them, but to no avail. Raku attempts to protect Carter from his mother, but ultimately fails as she knocks Raku out and drags Carter back with them.

Upon waking up, Raku finds himself in the basement, with his mother watching him over a the dead body of Carter. His mother has prepared his meal, breaking open Carter's ribcage and takes out his liver for him to eat. Raku refuses despite how delicious looking it looks, still traumatized by the once alive Carter, dead on the floor. His mother talks about how she expected better of him, that she shouldn't have kept him alive if he would act like this. We learn that his family or species, I suppose, only really care about the females in the family, with them mating with a random human only to eat them if they need to reproduce. As such, males are generally killed after they are born. However, his mother states because she loved him so much, she kept him alive, even at the expense of having the other families shun her. When Raku continues to refuse, his mother basically rips out almost all of his monster spider arms and locks him in the basement, forcing him to eat before he can leave. Raku knows that if he eats he could very easily heal from his wounds, but when he tries, he vomits it back up after seeing Carter's face.

After a couple of days, Raku's little sister, Mayu tries to look for him in the basement. After hearing that his mother said he was being bad and not eating, she decides to bring some of the halloween candy that he got for her, despite their mother not wanting them to eat it as it's tainted by humans. She is able to sneak in and give him the candy, allowing him to at least restore his wounds. After she leaves, Raku is able to sneak out of the basement by turning into as spider and runs away from home. After a couple of days of running, he becomes so tired that he can only maintain his spider form. He ends up in someone's yard and almost gets killed by a cat, batted inside the house. There he meets a young girl named Nelli. Nelli is kind to him, noticing his missing legs and puts him in a jar to take care of him, giving him dead insects. For a while, Raku is taken care of by Nelli who watches his health every day and feeds him. Nelli also recounts how she used to have a cat, but was scared that her father might do something to her and ended up giving it away to a friend, and wished that in the future she could become a vet.

We get to know more about Nelli's home life, with her mother constantly at work and her father being a deadbeat. Nelli likes playing games, not only as a hobby but as a way to avoid dealing with her father. As time goes on, Raku notices that Nelli often seems less lively, with screaming and yelling becoming more of a constant in her household. She comes home crying one day and talks to Raku, about how she witnessed one of her friends and her dad's relationship and that she wished that she had parents like that, as neither of her parents came to the parent teacher conference. She later hides in the bathroom later to avoid her father who seems to be trying to find a reason to punish her, quietly playing her favorite game while Raku watches. Things get even worse one day when Raku witnesses her father come into her room to look for something to blame her with, only to find Raku. When Nelli gets home, her father scolds her for bringing a disgusting spider into the house, smashing the jar on the floor. He tells her to kill Raku or else before stomping off. Here Nelli prays that someone will kill her father, as she never wants to see him again. Raku, hearing her wishes and being mostly healed, turns back into his human form to confront her father. There he kills him without hesitation.

He is able to bring his body back into the woods, eating it to gain substance before finally returning home to gift his mother. His mother is overjoyed that he was finally able to kill and devour someone, before he finally is able to return to his room.

A couple of years later, in college, Raku while waiting in line notices the keychain of the game that Nelli plays, and finds that the two are in the same high school. They end up greeting each other and this is how the game ends.

I think I've said this before, but I really liked Karamu and this game is just so great. I like the artstyle a lot in this game, the way the sprites animate to look left or right in the beginning, the backgrounds, framing and all of that. It's absolutely gorgeous and I like how the picture book style story is connected in game as well, despite being coded in a new engine for the creator. The story in this one is pretty solid as well, and I think I like it more than Karamu in this regard since we get to see a lot more about Raku and Nelli's childhood- how they both do have pretty rough childhoods though in different ways and how Raku at least meets Nelli. The idea of Raku's species being more matriarchal and how males of their species are basically nonexistent is so interesting, it makes me genuinely wonder what his mother saw in him to keep him alive. While it's still horrible, I can see why Raku's mother pushes Raku so hard into eating humans, given her own biases against humans and the fact that she kept him alive despite the fact that she should have killed him, he just wanted him to be worth keeping. Nelli on the other hand lives in an abusive household, with parents that either seem to ignore her or outright abuse her, so it's no wonder she clung so hard onto Raku as a spider, as she wanted to take care of something. The fact that Nelli's father is already extremely terrifying to the viewer makes you feel sorry for Nelli who is even younger at the time. Both Raku's mother and Nelli's father are fairly terrifying in their own way and all the voice actors did a really good job in conveying that feeling.

Raku as a yandere is really built up here as his reluctance to fulfill his family traditions is eventually overtaken by his desire to protect Nelli. It's no wonder Raku falls for Nelli so hard considering that she basically not only saves him but nurses him back to health. The two of them are very similar in many ways and Raku really does seem to want to want to protect and take care of Nelli just as much as she takes care of him. We can really see why Raku ends up being so protective over Nelli as he actually lives through part of Nelli's life and sees just what kind of life she lives and how difficult it is for a lot of it. It's no wonder later on Raku is so willingly to literally eat and hide the evidence in Karamu and how he seems so very protective over her. I do think perhaps its a bit strange that Raku didn't come to look for Nelli later on down the line (or maybe he did and then gave up), but I do think that them meeting up is very poetic.

Anyways, I can't wait for the last game in the triology. I think Chatter really improved on their stories and games since last time and I can't wait to see what other games they'll make. I know that they're making a shorter game with a green color scheme that also has a yandere in it so I need to look for that as well in the future.

#Kanau #male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #completed #visual novel

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dokk-fukuro · 1 year

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please do the 'your relationship' series with chuuya? thank you!!

Here we are~

Your Relationship [Chuuya Nakahara]

TW: afab reader, mentioning of female genitals, SMUT, MINORS NDI

Chuuya as your friend:

At first, he doesn't trust you and is generally quite rude to you, because he remembers how his trust in someone ends. This is why your friendships are very cold at the start;

When Chuuya nevertheless "thaws", you joke together, and you already seem to be not such a bad person to Chuuya. He often asks you for advice, although he says that he does it only to check how right he was in his guesses;

Doesn't show openly, but actually values you very much as a friend, so he doesn't even think of thinking about you as something more;

You share music selections, discussing what you liked the most. At first, Chuuya grimaced when he listened to your playlists, but he secretly kept the ones he liked;

He will never recruit you to work with him for the Port Mafia, because he knows all the risks for you. The organization won't be able to let you go so easily when you have so much knowledge in your head;

Gets annoyed if you joke about his height, but not as much as he looks. However, if you are shorter than him, he will surprisingly not joke back;

Chuuya as your boyfriend:

It is difficult for him to describe his feelings towards you, but somewhere deep inside Nakahara understands that without you his life will be somehow empty;

When falling in love attacked his mind, it was very difficult for Chuuya to accept it as it is. It seemed to him that this was nonsense, and he was not able to love, but the trembling emotions for you turned out to be stronger than him;

When you are alone, Chuuya just can't deny himself the pleasure of snuggling up to you, touching your body, inhaling the scent of your hair. He's too tactile;

He likes it when you walk around the house in one shirt. This sight literally mesmerizes him. If you're shorter than him, he won't mind you wearing his shirt at all;

He's jealous. No. Nakahara is extremely jealous, that's why he always leaves marks on your body. Plus he likes to hear your quiet moans and whimpers;

Quite energetic in bed, but doesn't like to rush so that you both can enjoy each other to the fullest;

You don’t get to spend time together so often that no one is distracting, so when Chuuya tells you on the phone that he is waiting for you under the windows, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror and adjust your burgundy lipstick and leave the house.

Nakahara stands by his motorcycle, wearing a leather jacket and his usual hat. In this form, he already looks as sexy as possible, and the way your gaze lingers on him makes Chuuya chuckle. He knows that he has your eyes on him, so he is completely confident in your relationship. You will never leave him.

"My gravity control can't keep me on my feet when you're around, baby." The redhead bites his lip and grins. Chuuya almost always acts like this with you. Previously, he denied his affection for you, although it was obvious to everyone, even Higuchi, those around him tried to shut her up so that she would be quiet.

It took both of you six months to get used to each other, and how much abuse there was… And how the dishes and the environment remained intact is a big question.

Chuuya gives you flowers and puts a helmet on your head and helps you into the passenger seat. This night is all yours, so Nakahara wants to enjoy you to the fullest.

Already at home, he, pulling off your clothes from your bodies on the way to the bedroom, touches you, caresses your body on the way, greedily sinks his teeth into the open areas of your skin, growling with satisfaction and guttural.

Chuuya wants you here and now, he is tired of waiting for the moment when he can touch you the way he does at the moment. In each of his touches, a mixture of the greedy "You are only mine" and the gentle "I love you."

You don't get to the bedroom. His favorite wine pours over your skin, which he eagerly licks, tongue brushing hard nipples, leaving hickeys and bite marks as you ride his cock and moan his name over and over. Chuuya is too hungry for you.

Working in the Port Mafia has its risks, especially if the enemy knows what to put pressure on, so Nakahara tries to hide you even from his own, which won't last for very long;

If you're working for the Port Mafia, be prepared to be the new duo with him and Chuuya's cold attitude towards you in front of everyone. Although it is already obvious to everyone that Chuuya loves you, therefore, his attempts to pretend that you are just partners look comical from the outside;

Nakahara adores with all his heart when you show everyone around you that he belongs to you. He likes this dominant nature in your character so much that he is almost ready to take you right where you stand;

#my writing #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bsd headcanons #smut #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya smut

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goldeaglefire1 · 8 months

Text

so admittedly my knowledge of dungeon meshi has been mostly absorbed through osmosis and also that one time I picked up and read a few chapters (which. I should really finish reading Dungeon Meshi sometime what I read was good shit). however, with that alone I have determined that a dungeon meshi/undertale crossover would be funny as fuck

allow me to illustrate:

upon hearing that they're in a kingdom of monsters Laios gets really excited for a moment before promptly deflating when an extremely confused Toriel informs him that the monsters in the Underground turn to dust upon death, so no, he can't eat them. he gets better when the party finds the Spider Bakery stand and Laios realizes that the Underground can be just as weird about food as he is (Marcille is significantly less happy about this revelation)

the gang's on a pacifist run not because they're intentionally sparing the monsters but because every monster who runs into them only has to look at them for ten seconds to go "there is something deeply wrong with you people. I am going to leave"

Laios and Papyrus are on the same autism wavelength. for Laios and Papyrus this is a "oh my god he's just like me fr" moment as they excitedly listen to each other ramble about their special interests, but for Laios' party (mainly Marcille and Chilchuck) they're watching in mounting horror as they realize "oh god there's two of them" and listen to Laios making suggestions to make Papyrus' traps and puzzles deadlier

(Laios also asks Chilchuck if he has any advice for Papyrus considering his expertise with traps, to which Chilchuck goes "why the fuck are you asking me to give him advice on how to make the traps more effective at killing us that is the exact opposite of my job")

Sans and Senshi interacting. I don't have anything particularly funny to say here but I think this writes itself honestly

speaking of Senshi - Senshi getting in a very heated argument with Undyne about cooking methods. he is genuinely more offended about her methods of cooking than her attempting to kill them

Alphys is the only monster who realizes that there's only one human in the party (well, not really; Sans also recognizes that Laios is the only human but his response is to just go "huh. whack" and then go to sleep) and is so incredibly confused that she actually tries to cancel the whole Mettaton plan because she needs to go down a research rabbithole to figure out when elves became real. this does not work because Mettaton ignores Alphys and shows up anyway but there was an attempt

Muffet, Laios, and Senshi also get along to a horrifying degree and this ends up cancelling the Muffet fight early because they want to talk recipes. Marcille very quickly drags Laios and Senshi away from Muffet before either party can give the other ideas

honestly this is just scratching the surface I KNOW the meshiheads out there will be able to come up with even funnier scenarios than I did and I fully invite you to

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #undertale #utdr

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nogenderbee · 1 year

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I read your Archons, Ganyu and Xio watching Teen!Reader growing up.

Can I request a silimier story, but the Teen!reader is a Adventure like Bennett and Fischl.

They notice that Teen!Reader been gone for a while and decided to see if they are alright. Only to discover that one of their missions led them to a fight with the Abyss Order, and they were heavily injured. But when they found them, they are alive, even though cover in bandages. And explain happily they survive thanks to the sudden appearance of a Vision silimier to their own or element.

Of course! It turned out quite short since I didn't wanted to write twice something I wrote here but I hope you'll enjoy this either way!

Archons, Ganyu, Xiao with teen!adventurer!reader

TagList: @bleachtheidiot @miya-akane

⊱ Venti always was scared for your well being, he simply didn't wanted to loose you, especially when you had so much life in front of you

⊱ it'd be a lie to say that he never thought of causing strong winds to make your journey impossible but that'd be taking freedom away from you and he didn't wanted that!

⊱ but you still experienced some stronger winds when you were out but not enough to make it harder on you, quite the opposite

⊱ winds were usually strong enought to help you cause swirl reaction or to swipe some of the enemies away

⊱ but he's also the type to go with you on any kind of journey and make sure by himself that nothing will happen to you

⊱ also is the type to congratulate and celebrate your every found treasure, even if it's one mora

⊱ literally is your mom whenever you're about to leave for adventure, like he'll go after you, make sure you have 20 more things that you don't even need and will hug you like he sees you for the last time you literally need to convince him to not follow you

"Strong yet helpful winds? Sounds like Barbatos has an eye on you! Ah c'mon, don't look at me like that! Maybe it's true, you never know~!"

⊱ you probably got into exploring and adventuring thanks to all those stories Zhongli told you

⊱ and he was glad that he helped you find something you enjoy so much

⊱ of course he was worried, that's why first few adventures were with him by your side

⊱ he's the type to help you pack yourself, he'll tell you what things are absolutely needed and which ones you won't need at all

⊱ he loves hearing about your journeys and sometimes he may tell you about his own journeys once he realizes you're old enough to finally hear them

⊱ bring him whatever you found in treasures and he'll tell you how much they're worth it and if you found any artifacts, he'll tell you quite a long description

"Not exactly... you see, this artifact is 500 years old and it used to be seen as so called rain bringer. Let me explain..."

⊱ believe it or not but Raiden was actually a bit worried about you, especially when you decided to go on your first mission

⊱ on the day of your first few missions, thunder actually was a bit stronger but it never hit you, if anything it hit your enemies

⊱ she won't say anything about what your packed unless you asked her about it yourself and she'll actually give you some good advices

⊱ sorry to break it up to you but she actually doesn't care much about what you found but she still listens if you like to ramble about your findings

⊱ literally would send you to Miko if you'd want to know more about some artifact you found on your way

⊱ she's definitely the type to give you some sweets as reward for your adventure, she once tried baking something for you when you come back but it ended on kitchen catching fire so she buys you something instead...

"I did not made thunder stronger today to interrupt your adventure. Let's just say that friend of mine convinced me to give you some extra help"

⊱ I think you could've expect it but... Nahida is literally a mom

⊱ she'll give you way more things to pack that you actually need, will ask you many stuff to make sure you'll be safe there or will be able to protect yourself and will struggle to actually let you go

⊱ and it's even worse if it's your first mission... you had to convince her to not make you go with Traveler and to not give you whole 3 bags of everything since it's just 3 to 8 hours

⊱ but once you come back, she's the type to welcome you with big hug and many questions making sure you had fun there

⊱ and you better not get any injury because her mom mode will get even more serious... she won't let you out of your bed for first few days and won't let you out of the city untill you heal fully

⊱ what's nice tho is that you get lots of your favorite foods and drinks from her once you come back

⊱ but let's focus on less mom things... if you ever bring any artifact, she'll announce how proud she is from you and if she can, she'll tell you as much as you'd like about what you found

"Are you sure you got everything? What if it'll suddenly rain? Take an umbrella with you, it doesn't matter if you'll be out for just 6 hours. Better be safe than sorry."

⊱ Ganyu is another person to act like a mom but she's not as bad as one archon...

⊱ she tries to not overload you with things you might need but you still will usually carry more than needed unless you tell her you won't carry it and she's not the type to pry

⊱ she won't come to adventure with you but she does walk you off to some spot just to make sure you're safe for some part of your adventure and to spend some more time with you

⊱ when you're away, she really just focuses on her work and wants to get more things done so she can spend some time with you once you're back

⊱ once you're back, she definitely treats you to some restaurant or any other place you might like as reward for your hard work

⊱ she's the type to just listen to you while you talk about your adventures and she might even ask you some questions

⊱ she will try to tell you as much as she can about any artifacts but even tho, she couldn't be more proud of you for finding every treasures

"I'm so glad you're back! Did you had fun? Did you occured any problems on your way? Come on, why won't you tell me everything on our way to Xianglings restaurant?"

⊱ Xiao acted like he truly didn't care that you're going on some kind of adventure but the truth is that he was so scared over his child companion

⊱ he literally followed you on your first 5 adventures if not more and defeated any monsters on your way

⊱ or just first 3 if he had no other choice but to slay some demos...

⊱ of course he doesn't help you with packing or anything since he doesn't know much about what mortals might need but he will get Traveler if you'd like some help

⊱ after your first adventure, he definitely suggests training you a bit but if you refuse he won't mention that ever again

⊱ he's not the type to welcome you back like it's the best thing that happened to Teyvat but he will show you his softer side especially if you're back from longer adventure

⊱ maybe he won't ask you many questions and you may even think he doesn't care but he does enjoy listening about your journey

⊱ if you ever show him artifact, he'll answer simply in few sentences and will advise you to go ask someone else instead since he's too busy to focus on just explaining

"You're going? Alright. Just remember to stay safe. I wouldn't say I'm being soft... isn't it natural for me to worry since you're a mortal? I- so what if I'm worried?"

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