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bloodblanks · 1 year

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30 frames per second [ben drowned x reader] — chapter i.

You have overbearingly strict parents who forced you into studying a degree that you don’t even like, and now you’re stuck having to write a thesis paper for it. But whatever, you can handle it. That is, until your computer starts running into some problems.

co-written with @blxrrii and @heartsfromvenus! ♡

author’s note: this fanfiction will not contain much, if any, dark or explicit content, but nonetheless,

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

chaos theory noun noun: chaos theory

the branch of mathematics that deals with complex systems whose behaviour is highly sensitive to slight changes in conditions, so that small alterations can give rise to strikingly great consequences.

‘It’s all because of that damn phone!’

That’s what your parents would have said when looking for the root cause of the problem.

This time though, they’d almost be right. Almost.

Except it wasn’t your phone that had started all of this; it was the PC. Which for some reason, your parents seemed to worry about less than your phone. Why did your phone always have to be the scapegoat? You were sure they wouldn’t have got you one if it wasn’t a necessity nowadays.

Anyway.

A prominent concept in chaos theory was the butterfly effect. The idea that a single flap of a butterfly’s wings could later cause a typhoon. That was what would soon become of your life. Not that you would’ve known originally, and not that you would’ve been aware of until it was over and done with.

And it all started because of that damn PC.

—

You yawned, stretching out to the edges of your bedframe with your fingers splayed. Rolling over to your side, you carefully inspected your alarm clock, a slight grimace on your face as you stared at the time.

You had spent the entire morning doing nothing. That was your final conclusion, though you were confused about how it happened. Not that it mattered much because it was technically still early. Or at least early enough.

The day had only begun not too long ago, your first class of the day yet to start. There was still some time to kill, although you figured you should at least get out of bed instead of lying there scrolling through your phone.

With a groan, you reluctantly got up, making your way to the kitchen of your too-large, too-extravagant home. Your house stood at a grand height of three stories tall, not including the basement and the attic. The rest of the house was filled with an abundance of rooms, far more than your small family of three would ever need. You supposed it made sense, though, seeing as your parents didn’t have much else to do with the money. With no siblings to pay for, your parents only had to cover their living expenses, yours, and your studies, which they had more than enough for.

You absentmindedly gazed around for something to eat, eyes scanning over your kitchen in hopes that you could locate what you wanted before your parents noticed. It wasn’t as if they’d berate you for eating, but as odd as it was, something about eating in front of them made you deeply uncomfortable and shy.

Quickly glancing over your shoulder to make sure nobody was there, you opened your secret snack drawer, quickly picking something out before covering it up again with the small hand towels that were carefully balanced on top of it.

Satisfied with your stashing, you started to make your way upstairs, which was a surprisingly long route due to the size of your home. You had just reached the top of the staircase when you ran into your dad, who took it upon himself to start a conversation.

“Y/N, shouldn’t you be getting to class?” His voice was hoarse, presumably because he had just woken up. You stared at him blankly, wondering if it was a genuine question or just a bad attempt at conversation. Where else did he possibly think you were going?

“Yeah, I’m just getting ready.” You took care to mask the irritation beneath your voice, knowing that your dad would be upset if you didn’t, which wouldn’t end well for you. You weren’t particularly in the mood for a lecture today. Not that you ever really were.

You didn’t hate your parents or anything, it wasn’t like that. You loved them to some degree, in a familial way… but it was hard thinking of them as anything more than that. You’ve heard of people who describe themselves as having a friendship with their parents, but that was never more than just a mere myth to you, having never seen or experienced it yourself.

Besides the occasional bout of teen angst and puberty mood swings, you mostly got along with your parents. The problem was more so that you weren’t close to them. You didn’t understand them; they didn’t understand you.

But the one thing that really wedged the distance between you and your parents was the fact that they were strict. Overbearingly strict.

Often, outsiders thought of your family dynamic as ‘sweet,’ hell, even ‘perfect.’ Of course, they had no clue what it was like to actually be in it. You didn’t think they’d say that if they lived it like you were forced to.

Sadly, no matter how much you wished for it, you couldn’t swap places with them.

How badly you wished that you could, though. Because despite being a fully grown adult, legally able to vote and drink at the fine age of twenty-one, in their eyes, you were and always would be a child.

And so, your existence came with a clear set of rules.

Those rules had been around for as long as you could remember, though they were rudimentary at first, minor things such as no snacks before bedtime. However, as you aged, their rules became increasingly noticeable and more frustrating to follow.

You had to alert your parents each time you left the house, school being the only exception. You had to tell them where you were going, how long you would be out for, and who you were with. Oh, their parents’ phone numbers had to be included in your report, as well. Curfew was 7PM sharp, right at dinnertime. Sleepovers were out of the question unless they took place at your home.

Dating was strictly forbidden, and all activities related to that went along with it. No kissing, no making out, and god forbid you even bring up the topic of sex, not that you would ever dare to, not that you would ever have a reason to. You weren’t sure what they were thinking because you were sure that your parents also expected you to get married and have kids someday, so you were utterly confused as to how they expected you to do that.

Underage drinking was out of the question, even though you were sure that most teenagers did it, anyway. But despite the law now permitting you to do so, your parents had made it clear that you were not allowed to drink still. Smoking and doing drugs? You’d probably be disowned, that is if you weren’t dead.

It was ludicrous, really. And what was even worse was that on top of all of that, you were not allowed to play video games.

It was something along the lines of ‘video games cause violence,’ ‘video games will distract you from your studies,’ ‘video games are a waste of time,’ and ‘video games are bad for you (just because).’

You remember having approached the subject once, and your parents responded with a such intense, passionate hatred for video games that you never thought to bring it up again.

Sure, you supposed you could have secretly played free phone or PC games when away from the hawk eyes of your parents. Still, after hearing so much negativity towards gaming, you had become disinterested. After all, you couldn’t have even known what you were missing out on.

Your parents’ behaviour resulted in you being extraordinarily sheltered and mostly unsocialized. Kids your age… didn’t really want to hang out with you. You weren’t bullied, but even in your private school with classmates like yourself, you were still sometimes called names such as a ‘goody two shoes’ or a ‘teacher’s pet.’ It wasn’t like you wanted to be that way, but that didn’t change anything.

Nonetheless, you were separated from most of your peers, often listening to them talk about a party coming up on the weekend, or a group sleepover at someone’s place, knowing that you would never be invited, and even if you were, it wasn’t like your parents would allow you to attend.

Of course, a portion of children had lives similar to yours, and from that portion, your parents carefully handpicked your friends.

Rachel and Selina. Those were the friends that your parents had chosen for you. From an early age, they had been in contact with their parents and, from there on, set up play dates, dinners, hangouts, and even sleepovers—at your place, that is. Even with the selected friends, you still weren’t allowed to sleep at their homes.

The two girls weren’t necessarily the greatest of friends. It wasn’t that they were mean or rude; they were just so incredibly bland.

There was nothing of joy that any of them talked about. You never experienced the typical teenage girl discussion of boys and high school crushes, instead being forced to converse about school, grades, plans for the future and so on. This by itself wasn’t so much of a problem, but the fact that they only conversed about the same three topics made them absolutely unbearable to listen to after a while. You wondered how they could possibly not get bored of going on and on about it.

“You better hurry up, then!” your father exclaimed, yawning as he passed by you, making his way down the stairs and likely into the kitchen for his breakfast.

—

Class came and went relatively fast. You only had a singular class today, but your mom still insisted on driving you to and from school.

When you got home, you flopped down at your desktop, grabbed your planner and flipped through it to find the current day’s tasks.

Mere seconds after you flipped to the correct page, your expression soured, a frown making its way to your face as you read the first item on the list.

Work on thesis.

You had already suffered through three years of university, and now in your last year, the final step for your bachelor’s in pediatrics was to write and complete your thesis paper. You weren’t even particularly fond of the subject, but it was the best choice out of all the ones your parents had listed as acceptable.

You had written many difficult papers throughout your life, but this one had to be the most intimidating one of them all so far. You had started writing it not too long ago, although you had been putting it off simply because it was rather dreadful to work on. Still, it was only a matter of time before your parents found out about your procrastination, so you figured that you should force yourself to make at least some progress.

A long sigh escaped your lips as you closed the small planner in your hand, mentally preparing yourself for the gruelling task ahead.

—

The longer you sat in front of your computer screen, the more you felt like your brain was melting into goo. It was as if something in your brain had overheated and fried itself, and now you were no longer processing information, left to blankly stare at the words before you that now meant little more than unintelligible symbols.

You weren’t even close to being done with your thesis, you had written just about 1,700 words prior to this, and you now totalled at 2,352. Considering how you had browsed the internet, done chores, and completed other assignments throughout this to avoid your essay, you felt like you had done a surprising amount of work. Not that it was anywhere near enough.

Nonetheless, you were now sitting at the desk, mind slowly rotting away, regretting your decision to procrastinate so much. Perhaps it would’ve been easier if you had done this sooner when your mind was less tired from doing work.

But you couldn’t do anything about it now.

When you thought about it, you weren’t entirely sure as to why you put off your assignment for so long. While it was probably the most torturous thing that schools could’ve devised, there surely had to be more to it.

Were you just stressed? Perhaps it was the sheer amount of pressure your parents put on you with their near unattainable expectations. Maybe it was because you didn’t even enjoy the subject you were studying, not looking forward to graduating and finding a job because you didn’t even want a career in pediatrics. You wondered if you should’ve fought your parents back then to study something you actually liked, but you quickly shrugged off the thought. It was pointless to defy your parents, not that you would know, because you never even bothered to try. Regardless, it wasn’t like you knew what you even liked because your parents didn’t care for you trying out things that they deemed useless to your education and future job.

Or perhaps you were just highly sick of being a caged bird with its wings clipped for extra safety measures.

You tried to take your mind off of those thoughts. It wasn’t like anything would change. Your life had been like this for as long as you had known; there was no reason for things to be different. There was no one to rescue you from your dilemma.

You slumped down in your chair, seemingly having a staring contest with the glaring white screen before your eyes. The blinking cursor served to further taunt you, mocking you for not having typed out anything new onto the blank canvas.

The most sensical solution, at this point, would be to shut off your PC, get some rest and pray that the next day will be better. However, you were feeling stubborn. You had set your goal for a minimum of 2,500 words by the end of today, and you were going to continue staring at your screen until you eventually thought of something.

You wouldn’t get anywhere, but you didn’t want to admit to that.

And so, you moved your mouse around slightly to prevent the screen from turning off. You sat back up from your slouched position on your spinning chair, pressing the space button and trying to force whatever flow into… flowing.

“This is such bullshit.” you sighed, remembering that you didn’t have to lower your voice at the current moment—your parents were not okay with you cursing—seeing as your parents were thankfully asleep in their bedroom across the hallway.

You wished you could’ve moved out of your parents’ house when you started university. Still, no matter how much pleading and crying you did in front of your parents, they refused to let you be out on your own, instead making you take primarily online courses, and driving you to and from the mandatory remote ones.

You were infuriated, but you gritted your teeth and obeyed because you had no choice; you wouldn’t defy your parents. It didn’t matter what they did, whether they were right or wrong, you simply had to keep your mouth shut, nod along and do what they said.

You felt the weight of your eyelids become heavier, and in the spur of exhaustion and utter despair, you were going to allow yourself to fall asleep at your desk.

However, your eyes quickly snapped open as you caught a glimpse of a pop-up on the screen, one you were sure you weren’t the cause of.

“What the hell?” you mumbled to yourself, moving your mouse to close the tab. It was empty, only a black screen with no text. You wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it closed as you would’ve expected. Instead, no matter how many times you clicked on the ‘x’ on the screen, it gave you no reaction.

Did you accidentally earn your computer a Trojan virus or something? You didn’t think you had accessed anything suspicious. You didn’t browse any porn sites—your parents had a firewall, anyway—nor did you click on any weird links. Could it be from the movie you downloaded earlier today?

Shit, you thought. Your parents would never let you hear the end of it if they learned about it.

After a minute or two of furious clicking, the pop-up finally closed, and you sighed audibly, basking in your temporary relief. To your dismay, however, your problems had just begun.

Without you even touching the keyboard, random numbers, letters, and other symbols started typing themselves onto your thesis paper, causing your eyes to widen impossibly large and for curses to fall out of your lips at a rapid pace, panic quickly rising in your chest.

You didn’t have much time to further think and assess the situation because the wall of text enlarged with each second that passed. In a feeble attempt to save your paper from further destruction, you held your finger on the delete button, yet your efforts were fruitless as the block of text only spanned out upon more pages.

Hushed curses left your lips at a rapid pace, your worries exacerbated. You hadn’t done anything wrong, really. People download movies all the damn time. Why in the world was this happening to you, out of all people?

As if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, with your thesis paper being at risk, the pop-up from earlier returned, this time accompanied by many more similar ones, each of them covering a section of your screen until the whole screen was nothing but little tabs that overlapped each other. You instinctively reached for your mouse to try to shut them down once more, but your horror only increased as you realized your cursor wouldn’t budge. It was frozen in place, so any chance you had of deleting the abundance of pop-ups was now virtually nonexistent.

Amidst the sheer fear and anxiety that filled your mind, you suddenly thought of turning off your PC entirely. What stopped you, however, was the fact that you hadn’t saved today’s work, and seven hundred or so words would be erased.

“Fuck my life.” you hissed through clenched teeth, mentally berating yourself for being so miserably stupid that you failed to save your work sooner. If only you had, you could just turn your PC off, and your problem would be solved.

Before you could go further down the rabbit hole of self-hatred over your failure to press the goddamn save button, you realized something.

Your cursor could move again. A sliver of hope came to you. Maybe you’d finally be able to close the tabs, and while that would take forever, you could still salvage your thesis.

But as soon as you moved your mouse to close a pop-up, your browser opened by itself, full screening and covering all the pop-ups behind it. Once again, letters started typing by themselves into your search bar without you touching the keyboard.

You watched in complete hopelessness and confusion as the words’ cleverbot.com’ were spelled out before it seemingly hit enter and took you to the webpage.

It was now your cursor’s turn to move by itself, slowly floating over to the blue button that read ‘understood, and agreed,’ clicking on it. You continued watching, your eyes trained on the screen as the cursor moved again, now hitting the ‘think for me’ button.

A message typed itself out in blue.

You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?

next chapter soon...

#creepypasta #creepypasta nsft #creepypasta reader insert #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta smut #yandere creepypasta #ben drowned #ben drowned creepypasta #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned x you #ben drowned x y/n #ben drowned arg #yandere ben drowned #ben drowned reader insert #ben drowned smut #ben x reader #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned hcs

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concreteburialplot · 7 months

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pretty sure you’re my fellow chase atlantic girlie that i’ve seen posted on my feed but if something chase atlantic x bad omens ever happened i. would. lose. my. mind. like i’m fully aware that noah would have fun posting things just because he likes to create chaos but someone on the bo tiktok account reposted cas’s video and it doesn’t mean anything but like,,, chase atlantic and bad omens are my bread and butter. and i mean they’re aware of each other just saying 🤠

and i’m sure if there ever was a collab someone somewhere would have smth negative to say but they could stfu because those are my angels. LIKE I’M SORRY can you imagine a chase atlantic feature on a song like bad decisions????

i need it. (at the same time i’m not ready for it)

YES! I AM HER! i am your fellow chase / omens girlie lmao

(just seeing their logos side by side like that makes me feel dizzy & makes my heart explode)

i actually hadn’t heard anything about the repost so thank you for bringing it to my attention! i just about lost my mind 🥲 my fav boys interacting ? 😭 my heart 😩 they are also my babies so get it 100% 🥺

(you didn’t ask for this but i’m offering it anyway 🥲)

so, couple things that come into play here that i think are interesting

warning: beyond this point will contain lengthy unnecessary, unasked for, unwarranted & disorganized reaching, theories, wishful delusional thinking & dissection. i am a swiftie at heart so it’s a reflex to look too much into cryptic behavior lol

+ rambling bc i’m a gemini who loves chase atlantic & rarely gets to talk about them to anyone so 🥲💔

i’m also aware that omens x chase fans are very niche & nobody actually cares what i have to say about this topic but whatever 🥲💔 i just need to get this out 🥲

1 - i have known for a while that at least noah knows about / is a fan of chase atlantic. i believe he liked a tweet about them a while ago, when chase was doing a livestream i think? & he’s posted about them before, example here:

whether or not chase knows about bad omens i’m not sure but they probably do now at least

2 - Omens & Chase are under the same management company! They’re both under MDDN, so they’re at least in the same circles

3 - as much as i’d KILLLLL to hear chase feature on bad decisions i unfortunately don’t think noah would be down for it (i think he’s stated before he’s not open to features on bad omens’ discography ?? but i could be mistaken) - so the more likely scenario in the realm of (unrealistic) features would be noah featuring on a chase song

4 - the Bad Omens official tiktok account has only reposted 6 videos total, besides cas’ & the other 5 were specifically about the band - with how they handle their social media i find it interesting that they’d do that

also

obviously Kras is in CA so them reposting it isn’t out of the ordinary BUT both band accounts reposted the same day (even tho the video itself was posted 6 days ago, they both reposted the next day) - again just interesting

5 - the audio on the tiktok was mamacita so that begs the question that if there WERE to be a collab … would it be noah featuring on mamacita …………. bc the thought of that …. makes my head spin 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 (we also been knew that noah’s music taste is vast, so him being interested in / open to featuring on a different genre track, especially of a band he likes, isn’t THAT crazy to imagine)

6 - however the caption cas’ tiktok was something like “christian said that if you use this filter he’ll show you his verse on mamacita” so that could mean a couple things IF a collab is being teased

a - it’s not actually kras’ verse it’s noah’s

b - kras’ verse could be first & noah’s 2nd (😵‍💫)

c - they’re hinting at a feature on another song on chase’s upcoming album

d - there is no collab & i’m a clown for believing that there could be (it’s this one)

7 - we know chase is open to having features from different genres & are pretty lax about who they work with (& lax in general)

8 - i’m unsure how well the collab would be received - i think noah featuring on chase would go over significantly better than the other way around but still idk - chase’ fanbase seems a lot more chill than omens

REGARDLESS i fear for chase if they collab bc [a lot of] bad omens fans are mean, judgy & ruthless especially about artists outside of metal/metalcore. chase’s fandom is fairly chill (in my experience) & unfortunately i honestly think any interaction with bad omens would bring a lot of unnecessary drama & hate to them :///// and i can smell the “bad omens is selling out” accusations from here

9 - again i think the repost was really interesting & unusual for their normal social media activity/strategy & so the fact that it’s so out of the ordinary + subtle + sneaky ON TOP OF ALLL of those other factors ^ has got me extremely intrigued

10 - that all being said ……. unfortunately as you touched on, Noah is a troll at heart, so he could very well just be causing mischief - for what reason, nobody knows - also choosing that tiktok was so random ?? so ?? [especially since it was cas’ tiktok, not chase or even their members??]

i’m interested to see if there’s any other sneaky interactions between them moving forward - noah loves taylor swift so he may be taking a page or 2 from her book & starting to get more cryptic as their fanbase expands ?? lol

seeing kras on the same page of an omens official account really made me feel crazy. that is something i never ever thought i’d see, thought i was hallucinating lol (i love them so much 🥹)

i am slightly hopeful but also ready to be disappointed lol

am i a fool for underestimating noah sebastian’s troll behavior? probably

has he trolled me before? yes

will i have too much faith in him to not troll me again after this? yeah :/

regardless,

anyway sorry this is ridiculously long for no reason & nobody actually cares about my insane hypothesizing 🥲 if anyone got this far, you’re a trooper & i’m giving you a star

i was just really really really excited about this bc i love them both so much & nobody else cares & it made me really sad but it’s fine 🥲🥲💔💔

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wesleysniperking · 1 month

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usopp positivity post #3

Usopp’s MBTI and personality type is an ENTP.

ENTPs are who people refer to as “The Debater”. He shares an MBTI w/ Sabo, Doflamingo, Gol D. Roger, Kizaru, Sun God Nika, Kaku, Lindbergh, Caesar Clown, and Dejiro.

ENTPs are often the life of the party thanks to their quick wit and ability to come up with hilarious quips and jokes on the spot. Usopp from "One Piece" showcases this perfectly with his humorous antics and the way he uses humor to lighten the mood or bond with his crewmates. His playful banter and comedic timing are classic traits of an ENTP, making him not just a strategic thinker and creative problem-solver, but also someone who brings a lot of laughter and fun into the mix.

Facts about ENTPs:

ENTPs have a talent for turning almost any situation into a lively debate. They thrive on intellectual stimulation and love to play devil's advocate.

They're often described as the "idea machine" of the MBTI types, constantly generating new concepts and possibilities.

ENTPs are notorious for their love of wordplay and puns. They're quick-witted and always ready with a clever quip.

They have a natural knack for improvisation, whether it's in conversation or problem-solving. ENTPs can think on their feet like no other type.

ENTPs have a mischievous streak and enjoy pushing boundaries, both socially and intellectually.

They're masters of persuasion, able to talk their way in and out of almost any situation with charm and charisma.

ENTPs can be easily distracted by shiny new ideas, often jumping from one project to the next without completing the first.

They thrive on intellectual stimulation and love to explore complex theories and concepts, often diving deep into esoteric subjects just for the thrill of it.

ENTPs have a rebellious streak and dislike being told what to do. They prefer to carve their own path and challenge authority 👀when necessary.

Despite their sometimes unpredictable and unconventional nature, ENTPs are incredibly loyal friends and partners, always willing to support those they care about.

Usopp really lines up with the ENTP personality type, and here’s why I think so:

Creative Genius: Usopp’s a master at whipping up cool gadgets and weapons, always coming up with wild, out-of-the-box solutions. This knack for innovation is just like an ENTP’s love for tackling problems in unique ways.

The Ultimate Storyteller: This guy’s stories are off the charts—entertaining, elaborate, and delivered with such passion. It’s something ENTPs are great at; they know how to engage and captivate an audience with just words.

Clever Strategist: Even when he’s scared, Usopp pulls through with some seriously clever tactics. It’s that strategic mind ENTPs are known for, finding ways to win even when the odds seem stacked.

Always Leveling Up: Usopp doesn’t just settle; he’s all about getting better and facing his fears. That drive to improve and challenge oneself is a big ENTP move.

Adapts on the Fly: Usopp rolls with the punches, adapting to whatever crazy thing comes his way. That flexibility is a core ENTP trait, helping them thrive in chaos.

So, yeah, Usopp’s adventures and how he handles them? Totally ENTP stuff. His creative and strategic thinking really shows why he fits this personality type to a T.

learn more here.

gif credit

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anoiaa · 1 year

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Classroom Of The Elite Gossip Girl

I am considering making this a series if you like it, so please do not hesitate to let me know. There a few questions below related to the story so pay attention while you read to answer them.

The story starts on the Cruise ship test after the VIPs have been chosen.

It was the third day of the Zodiac test. And the Gossip girl had hit again. No one really knows who this mysterious messenger is, but it is believed that they can see the future, at least according to the rumors. The first time I received a message from Gossip girl, it said: class D will not receive 100,000pts at the end of the month. And that same text was sent to everyone in my grade. And as the message foretold, we never did. Everyone in my class and across my grade was equally shaken, and as if messing with us, another message appeared on our cruise ship to the island, it said: Class D will dominate. And it did, just as the message foretold.

There’s one theory in the class C leader’s head: X is the Anonymous messenger Gossip girl. For him, there could be no other possible solution. He knew a mastermind was pulling Class D’s strings from the background but was yet to know who. He would look for a plan later, and unmask X who he also thinks is the Gossip Girl.

Today, the Gossip Girl sent a new Gossip to all the students on the ship: Class A will end up rock bottom, Was all it said. Now every single student in class A was starting to doubt Kasturagi’s strategy to win this. On the third round of the zodiac meetings, class A students seemed very uneasy. None of the Gossips from the Gossip Girl had been false, so it means:

“Class A folks are losing it.”

Kushida told Ryuuen during their secret rendez-vous. He thought that this woman wanted to feed him information on X, but she had no knowledge of the person controlling Horikita in the shadows. Useless, he thought, but she proposed a deal with him, she was ready to betray her class to get Horikita expelled, and to prove her sincerity she sold him her identity as one of the class D’s VIPs.

“I wish they could mess with Horikita a bit more.”

The Gossip Girl had an immense power that they might have not been aware of. A single gossip could lead to total chaos, and the class leader’s would have a hard time controlling their class. By saying that, Kushida wanted more gossip about class D to give Horikita a hard time, something Ryuuen admired about her, this malevolence that knows no bounds. But people like her end up being sheep for the bigger prey.

On the day of the results Class A ended up last with 0pts. Kasturagi was a trash leader, and Ryuuen’s class was on top of the ladder, as the gossip foretold. Class A is in chaos, and as the walls fall in front of my eyes, I watch silently as though not there. Now, the real plan can begin.

I opened my phone, multiple messages already sent in my inbox asking about who I am and how I know so much. On the top right, I opened another gossip tab. Knowledge isn’t free. And pressed send. Now, I will wait. On the next exam, I will sell info to the class that bids the highest. With this, at the end of my third year I will have exceeded the 20 million points that will allow me to switch to the class that will be A upon graduation. And only then, will I be able to return back home.

In which class do you think Gossip Girl is in?

What do you think of Gossip Girl’s 20 million plan?

Which character would you like Gossip Girl to be?

=================== S N E A K P E A K ==========================

Username: Gossip Girl

Password: **********

Welcome back Gossip Girl! Who will you send your next message to?

To: class 1 B

Text: Your class was the highest bidder. What do you wish to know?

#classroom of the elite #suzune horikita #ichinose honami #kakeru ryuuen #fanfic #anime fanfic #Youkoso Jitsuryoku Shijou Shugi no Kyoushitsu e #youzitsu #you zitsu fandom #kiyotaka ayanokouji

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percyaugod · 7 months

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@qwerty-keyboard-is-superior @distorted-dreams-au

The Shelldon stuff. : D

Robot Shelldon being a drone human Shellson had built for spying and gathering intel. Also good at helping with dangerous situations without putting himself in danger. Shelldon repurposes a VR headset to see what the drone sees and to pretend like he is the drone. He knows the keyboard so well he doesn’t even need to look at it which helps when he has the headset on and can’t see it.

Nearly gives Donnie a heart attack as he tries to play it cool and asks why a turtle. Shelldon had heard of some mutant turtle heroes and thought they were cool and that started his love of turtles as deep deep-dived into them and based his drone on a sea turtle. He had only seen poor-quality pictures people took of the mutants but he liked the purple one’s vibe the best and now his favorite color is purple and he lowkey hero worships him.

There’d be rumors and online forums for the turtles that discussed them and Shelldon's part of one. The purple one was known to at times be more morally gray than the others and that’s part of the reason he liked him. Some times you don’t have to luxury to take the high ground and for the greater good you need to be the “bad guy”. Shelldon gets that. As an orphan, he’s all too aware of how cruel the world is and how things aren’t black and white. He’s done “bad” things like lying to stay safe and help others. It can’t be much different in the hero world.

One day the purple one just disappeared and tons of rumors popped up. Some say he died. Others that he was kicked off the team or quit. No one knows and there are tons of theories within theories. Shelldon refuses to believe he’s dead so he goes with the kicked-off/quit theory. But what could have caused that to happen? He wishes he knew. The other turtles are still active but no one has seen or heard a thing from the purple one in years.

Shelldon who loves conspiracy theories writing down everything that Casey thinks is weird about their new dad. He agrees that something is definitely up with their new parents and Othello is definitely the weirder one. Julia just likes chaos and wants to add fuel to the fire. Plus it’d be cool if their parents weren’t normal. Normal is boring. Shelldon keeps trying to spy and hack into Donnie's cameras.

Sneaking down to the lab they find some of Donnie’s battle shells and other strange inventions. Except, imagine it being less sneak down, and more find completely by accident by falling into the secret entrance while looking for clues. Julia and Casey Jr landing in crouches while Shelldon falls flat on his face.

Donnie working down there without his brooch and not noticing because his music is blaring. The kids follow the music only to see some weird turtle mutant. Julia is ready to fight it and Shelldon is fangirling so hard after connecting the dots.

Julia seeing Shelldon has answers and isn't afraid to torture him for them, so spill. Shelldon having a Donnie level info dump. She'll torture him if he doesn't shut up.

Donnie realizing the kids are their and panicking. How could this have happened?! Why hadn’t he been alerted to trespassers?! How does Shelldon know exactly who he is?! What does he do? What does he tell Cass?

Donnie trying to figure out if he comes clean, plays dumb, pretends to just be someone else living there, or pretends he broke in. The kids aren’t even supposed to stay with them, it’s just until they pull off this heist! He can’t let them know he’s their “dad”. Coming clean is a no no for now. Pretending to be someone else who lives here would probably work best.

Donnie having to use his real name for the first time in years as he explains he's just someone their parents let stay with them in return for help with tech. He doesn’t like how familiar but foreign his name feels on his tongue. The kids don’t believe he’s telling him the whole truth but are satisfied for now.

Shelldon asks if this means Cass and Othello are heroes too and Donnie can't stop his laugh. He can't tell what that face Shelldon makes means, but he knows it's not good.

Shelldon asking Donnie why he became a villain. Being an anti hero is one thing and was cool but to completely switch sides? What happened to his brothers? What made him disappear?Donnie just saying things happen and not elaborating.

Shelldon would be in a bit of denial after finding out Donnie turned into a villain. It can’t be true, he’s just an anti hero or something! Doing questionable things but for the greater good and with the bigger picture in mind. Eventually tho he has to realize that his hero is a villain now. There’s no denying it after a while.

That doesn’t mean he can’t change tho! He was a hero once and he can be one again! Shelldon will make sure of it. He just needs to find out what caused this change.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rise donnie #rise shelldon #rottmnt shelldon #Despicable Me AU

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softlyapocalytpic · 1 year

Text

WIP Weekend

Tagged by @persephotea

I haven't written any fics recently, so take this list of Moments I wrote about Sunshine and Deacon! None of it is necessarily canon but rather me trying to figure out their dynamic

Tagging: @railroadlesbian @bleumanouche @sirmanmister (no pressure! just offering the chance haha)

Sunshine and Deacon come across a raider camp that has some people locked up and the decide to have a little fun with busting them out. A little work together challenge if you will. Sunshine goes to the front gate, Deacon takes the back, and they're both testing their lying skills to basically walk in the front door before raising hell. They both succeed (relatively) although some things fuck up and they have to improvise from their. The people get saved, the raiders get slaughtered (some running away screaming), and Sunny tosses back a grenade at the place as they walk away with arms wrapped around each other's necks. The implication here is this is pretty normal and practiced for them at this point.

Playing poker with the RR post HP going undercover, and the two of them cleaning out their fellow agents for the bits and bobs they bet. Glory in particular ends up losing incredibly poorly and she realizes at the end the two of them had been working together to split the winnings (the winnings not even being money, but knick knacks, snacks, and the life. they're a nonprofit, they don't have money).

Sunny and D sitting with Tinker and tossing conspiracy theories with him and each other and then he gets disappointed when he realizes that neither actually believes in them like he does they're just fucking around. Sunny shrugs and says they could be real, but the knowledge doesn't change her life at all so what's the point in worrying about? Deacon thinking to himself about how differently they view life and knowledge.

Playing baseball in Diamond City with each other and the kids and it generally causes a ruckus and they get told to quit so they all end up going back to the Dugout for nuka colas and food. Sunny and Deacon both take turns smiling fondly at the other while the other is wrapped up in telling stories to the kids. Sunny tells Deacon he'd make a really good teacher.

Playing pranks on the Brotherhood of Steel while Sunny is "in captivity" and generally just making the soldiers look like idiots. This includes stealing shit and misplacing it on purpose, Deacon talking circles around their ideology while Sunny aids him, and purposefully misunderstanding orders to create chaos.

Generally being silly competitive over kills which ends in them both lying constantly to one up the other because they're both great liars. This is observed by an outside party (Leo? Mac? Who knows) who point out how silly and ridiculous those numbers are to which they both start defending the other.

It's sunset on a rooftop somewhere and they've had a couple of very bad beers (maybe they just got that beer bot for the guy in Goodneighbor). Sunny suddenly and abruptly opening up to Deacon about her relationship with Piper and her pseudo-relationship with Veronica when something reminds her of them. She talks very casually about the revelation that she's probably just unlovable. Deacon is caught between wanting to yell "no your wrong" and not being able to be vulnerable, and so he says, "Eh, I'm not ever settling down with anybody. We can be unlovable together" or something to that extent.

Sunshine is having a bad migraine day and can't go outside. Deacon isn't used to her being like this and Sunny tries to hide it because she hates being seen as weak. His gust instinct is to leave her alone until she's ready to be bright and cheery again, but he pushes past that and goes to lay down beside her in her dark room and tells her stories. Anything he can come up with as long as he can. They can't see each other's faces and Deacon's heart is beating fast at being so close and intimate with someone, and he wants to bolt. But he stays and he lets Sunny softly hold his hand. He offers to get her water and food and take care of her in little non-invasive ways, and at first she flinches, but lets him take care of her. Lets herself be vulnerable too.

I think it makes sense for Deacon to have a dissociative disorder. He starts just kinda not being there in one of those quiet moments where they have to sit in silence for mission reasons and the stress is compounding. Sunny doesn't try to force him out of it but rather she holds him and grounds him by being this physical presence that reminds him that he's real. She tells him stories about her travels, not the outlandish, but the things she misses and loves about the Mojave.

Deacon does actually ask about Sunshine's past, but he's careful about what he asks about so as to not have her close off. He's constantly looking to know more about everything and everyone, and most the time Sunny offers a lot of the fun voluntarily, but he loves stories about the Mojave so he wants to know what it was life. He likes to fly off to the escapist fantasy of other worlds and he wants to go see the West Coast so badly but he never can. Eventually, I think she takes him there and shows him everything she can. He finally gets to travel for fun.

#deacon fallout 4 #courier sunshine #wip

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artgletic · 7 months

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hi! i read your dimentio headcanon post and wanted to ask your thoughts. what if dimentio was merloo, not mentored him?

hiya!! thank you for reading my lore post!! i know it was very long so i appreciate you not only reading it, but asking me about it as well!

ill be real with you, i did think about that as a possibility and i think theres a lot more going for it than my mentor theory which is purely headcanon. any attempted justification for my mentor idea can be used to justify dimentio being merloo instead, and when comparing the two ideas' plausibility, the fact there is no mention of a mentor in lore pointedly discredits the mentor idea.

I kind of waffle between the two depending on what i personally find more interesting (and designing ancient-dimentio was interesting!). The only reason I even thought of the mentor theory was because:

dimentio just vibes as this lingering figure who only makes himself known when he's ready to make a splash (but again, maybe him writing the light prognosticus WAS the splash? I mean it makes more sense he'd just write the thing himself)

merloo being in green reminded me of the whole 'man in green' thing, who is supposed to "use the chaos heart's power to bring darkness to all." I sort of assumed that, like luigi, dimentio would rather manipulate the 'man in green' into doing his bidding as opposed to being it himself. But playing devils advocate to myself, this very well could have been an earlier attempt in his scheme where he attempts to be the man in green and use the chaos heart directly. I mean dimension D is green as well; he's not opposed to the aesthetic

i like dimentio manipulating some hapless teenager LMAO. imagine the condescension.

#TLDR youre right im wrong im just getting silly with it #dimentio #spm #super paper mario

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insane4fandoms · 2 years

Note

Ooh here’s one that’ll tug at the heart strings…

The Matt egos head out to run some errands. Hermit’s sleeping, so they decide to let him rest. Hermit wakes up and… he can’t find his friendos anywhere. The more he looks, the more he starts to panic. His heart pounds, his chest constricts, he feels overheated, he’s shaking. He’s running as fast as he can through the house. He doesn’t even realize he’s shrieking their names at the top of his lungs. He’s convinced it’s happening all over again. They’re gone. First his parents. Now his friends. They’re gone and he’s alone again.

He’s alone.

In his panic, he does not hear the front door open.

What do the Matt egos do when they go inside and find Hermit like this?

Guess what bitches, I got one of the main roles for my school play ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ 🎉🎉🎉

Matpat would be proud of me

Never Leave Your Hermit Home Alone

- It was just another day, with expected chaos looming inside the Theory Manor.

- However, the egos were up and ready to go out to do errands separately. The only ego who doesn’t seem to have anything important, and seemed to enjoy doing nothing is Hermit.

- “You think Hermit would be okay?” Matt asked the others, and Warf gave thumbs up. “He’ll be fine, any intruder will be our dinner if they dare break in,” He giggled.

- “I doubt Hermit would let the manor on fire, don’t worry,” Detective reassured Matt, grabbing the keys and motioned the others to get out of the house.

- Matt hesitates, but couldn’t even write a note as Mad basically dragged him out of the house. The door closed shut, leaving the sleeping Hermit alone on the couch.

- All was well until noon struck and the ego began to stir.

- Hermit woke up from a very nice nap, having the urge to cook some meat, a nice lunch for him and his friendos!

- But he didn’t hear the others’ voices, or walking, or didn’t see anything at all.

- Where… where is everyone?

- “Friendos?” Hermit called out, moving through the house, peaking in each rooms, seeing no one in sight. Now he was getting nervous, are they outside?

- “F-friendos! Where are you?!” He gave a shout, fear welling up in his chest. Where could they be? They don’t just leave without him? Right?

- Hermit could only hear static in his ears, turning into the sounds of the ocean.

- The ocean of when he was on that ship. That damn ship that took his parents away.

- The ocean that caused him to be alone.

- “Mama… papa…” He began to let tears fall, all he could do was to curl into himself. He wanted his friendos, he wanted someone, please… he’s afraid.

- He’s scared. He’s lost, he’s shouting.

- He’s alone

- He’s-

- The door opens, and the bickering of Mack and Detective echoed through the house. However, Hermit couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t hear anything at all, and he couldn’t hear his own scared shouting.

- They all stopped, looking at each other, before booking it into the house, calling out for Hermit. Mack threw open the living room door, and spotted the frightened man on the floor, curled up into a ball.

- They all carefully surrounded the weeping man, trying not to startle him since Hermit is in a vulnerable state. Any wrong move can lead to a knife in someone.

- “m…mama.,,. Papa..,. D-don’t go.,., where are you.,,.,?” He whimpered, and Detective gently placed a hand on his back. Hermit flinched, but looked up, vision clearing up to see them again.

- “Fr… Friendos…?” Hermit barely gave a whisper, wiping tears away and hiccuped a little.

- “It’s us, Hermit. You’re not alone anymore,” Matt mumbled, but didn’t finish his sentence as Hermit pulled everyone into a tight and big hug. He sobbed into Mad’s bear suit, where Detective and Matt comforted through words.

- Mack hesitantly placed a plate of cookies, gently giving one to Hermit, who took one and nibbled on it. Warf threw a blanket on all of them, where he turned the tv on and watched some animated shows to calm Hermit down, which worked.

- From then on, doesn’t matter where they go, or how long they take, the egos never left Hermit alone, and kept him by their side.

- It may cause other chaotic and wacky hijinks, but that’s for another time.

#iswm mack #madpat #ahwm the hermit #warfpat #the detective #matpat

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zhongrin · 8 months

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Bravo, Meirin.

Thank you for the Netflix style version of a suspense novel. This EBG was a masterclass is DM and RP work. I thought the way things played out was impressive, and I am impressed in how you used even seemingly unrelated one-off asks (like the grandmother ask, the ask about the weather in Mingyun Village, the investigator asks) to flesh out the story into such an interesting one. It had so many twists and turns, and I was kept on the edge of my seat.

I will say that I didn't expect the ask about the Gardemeks to make its debut at the end and with pictures, no less. I sent that along with the Treasure Hoarder Ask at the end as a one off to see how much further things could escalate within the confines of the EBG, and I was not disappointed.

Due to when EBG happened and the times it fell, I'd often be asleep when the major happenings occurred. (Darn you, timezones!) I admit, I lost more than my fair share of sleep trying to keep up with what happened. But when I'd get up in the morning, I would grab my breakfast and read through what happened on your blog. It felt like I was reading a really engaging story.

That being said, I thought the way you approached this EBG was very clever, especially with how you worked within the constraints of the rules. While the EBG required you to "simp" so to speak for the assigned character, it didn't say who had to do it and how it had to be done. I also thought it was very clever to make it so that Childe and Meirin weren't together romantically, which both worked to free up the ooc side of you to work on the God Remains and Coviello/Dresvi plotlines, while giving you the freedom to write Childe as you wanted, especially since you mentioned having a hard time "simping" for him.

I also appreciated that you didn't shy away from people's theories during the event either. You weren't scared of spoilers. You knew where you wanted to go with the story and stuck to your guns when making the story and answering the asks, and that made it all the more satisfying when you revealed the truth of the matter.

That being said, I did take a backseat to the chaos later on in the EBG, since it seems like other people were pushing the story forward (and I ended up doing some other shenanigans).

But I still came back to your blog every day during the week it was active for EBG. I found it fun to watch, and I ended up enjoying myself.

This ask is getting way too long, so I'll send another one with follow up questions for the EBG later. I'm curious about the writing and preparation process.

Thank you again for the wonderful time and the amazing story, Meirin! It was fun playing with you, and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing your shenanigans here and on other blogs as well. ^^

✌️

alright, okay, i've reread this countless times now and i think i'm ready to release it because man. this hits HARD (in a /pos way ofc)

how you used even seemingly unrelated one-off asks

please 😭 i'm glad it's not annoying anyone that i did this because i understand it could be, especially if the asker didn't meant for the ask to be answered that way - but some of them are so perfect as the plot accompanient and i couldn't help myself ;w;

I will say that I didn't expect the ask about the Gardemeks to make its debut at the end and with pictures, no less

oh my goodness. that ask. when i received it on day 2, i went :D haha. hahahahahahaha *insert maniacal laughter here* ahem. i meant, it was a HIGHLY interesting ask and i knew i had to use it nearing the end. thank you so much for sending that in and giving me the opportunity to draw more unhinged childe!!

I sent that along with the Treasure Hoarder Ask at the end

that was you too?! HLSDLSDFK hahahah honestly i really did want to make meirin fight them off but considering the plot and her condition, i didn't think it would make sense? in baizhu's story quest we know how jiangliang almost fell down a cliff when he was chronically seeking out the mother lode, so yeah, i didn't think she would be in any condition to fight. hence i stuck with that approach and yeeted the bad ending just to say 'hey, just saying, i WILL kill meirin if i have to' LOL

I admit, I lost more than my fair share of sleep trying to keep up with what happened

darn timezones!!! and hsldkfjskldf you and me both comrade. i think my sleep schedule this ebg (and last ebg too tbh) is a WRECK. actually, let me just check something real qui-

............. yeahhhh. uh. for someone who usually sleeps 6-8 hours a day.......... leeeeeet's not talk about that :D i will have to pay those sleep debts this weekend for sure. but it was worth it, heh.

But when I'd get up in the morning, I would grab my breakfast and read through what happened on your blog

the way i also do this with the replies section when i wake up too lol everyone's comments were my morning tabloid, i read through them with a smile as i sip my coffee >:D but gods. that. that's such an honor.... thank you for being so invested in it ;w;

While the EBG required you to "simp" so to speak for the assigned character, it didn't say who had to do it and how it had to be done

HAHAH gotta exploit the loopholes yk? ;))

I also appreciated that you didn't shy away from people's theories during the event either

ahhh thank you <3 i try not to give out special treatments even to my friends as much as possible and i actually LOVE seeing them theorising and discussing things in posts/replies. it also kinda gauges whether i'm doing things right, whether i should make the hints more obvious, etc. so they actually help a lot in developing the story too, in a sense!

But I still came back to your blog every day during the week it was active for EBG

i am so so so honored ;w; like really. the fact that people cares enough to ACTUALLY VISIT my blog? insane. that's. such a thing that i'm still partly unable to believe even now. most people stay in their dashboard and scroll. the fact that people actually went to my blog JUST to see the ebg contents is just. hngngngnnngngng

This ask is getting way too long, so I'll send another one with follow up questions for the EBG later. I'm curious about the writing and preparation process.

i'll be waiting for that follow up ask because i would love to elaborate more on the ebg given the opportunity to, but no pressure really! i'm just glad that you and everyone else had fun <3

thank you again, kind nonnie. i'll be sure to keep this in my treasure box and reread it a few hundred more times ❤️

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: anon 💟#rin's treasure box

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kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄

d.kaminari and h.sero | f!reader + corruption + weed/shotguning + praise + threesome + more! minors dni!

— 3.6k words

"I knew I wanted you the second I saw you."

Denki’s addicted to the pre-concert high.

His veins hum with a song that has yet to start, fingers drumming some mixed beat on the body of his electric guitar as he assumes his place on the dark stage. The theater’s dead silent, the room suspended in a titilating anticipation—and the steady rhythm Denki's heart dissapates into chaos when the faint crack of Eijirou's drumsticks bounce off the walls, and the click in his earpiece begins.

Eijirou hits the kick drum once. Twice. Then his hands fly across the set in a flurry, the rolling beat echoing into the packed arena and spurring the crowd to explode, fans flying to their feet to render their vocal cords for the night.

As the other instruments fill the blank space, Denki's hand grips the back of his guitar's neck, on hold for his solo, and by the time the electric blond steps up to the mic, pavlov's theory has already kicked in overdrive.

"Who’s ready to feel good tonight?”

“Dude, I’m on fucking fire!” Denki vibrates, nearly glowing in comparison to his bandmates as they sift through a flurry of fans at a meet and greet. It always seems like Denki and Eijirou are the only ones with energy after a good show—but what can he say? Being on stage lights him up like a live wire.

"You said that last concert, buddy," Hanta snorts, before his a fan ran sacks his attention by shoving a tiara into his hairline.

"And? My point still stan—" Denki cuts himself off with a gasp as a bra slings across his face, followed by a burst of pain when the metal hits him in the cheek. He peels the lacy thing off with an eye on the audience and an eyebrow raised in question, unsure of what to do with the undergarment (other than put it on) until someone screams:

“Sign it!”

Denki shrugs and pops the Sharpie cap with his teeth to sign the crest of both cups before flinging it back into the audience—he can only pray it pinpoints its rightful owner before the meet and greet ends.

Katsuki clicks his tongue (because he hates these events) and as the next round of fans lineup in front of their table, Eijirou stretches like this is a sport, saying, “Guess it’s go-time.”

"Go-time is when we perform," Katsuki grumbles in the seat to Denki’s right. "Go-time is when we're in the studio makin' a goddamn album, not meeting crazy fuckin' fans—no, I’m not gonna marry you, you obsessed fuckin—“

“Oh, you're just salty you're not popular with the ladies~“ Denki gushes, wiggling his eyebrows, and a fan hands him a canvas the size of his upper body. “Un—oh wow, did you make this for me—Unlike me, of course.”

"Okay, pretty boy." Hanta rolls his eyes, before signing a phone case and returning it to an overzealous fan. With a hand covering his mouth, he whispers, “Can you believe this guy? So full of himself, I swear.”

The fan giggles and Hanta meets the blushing cheeks with a satisfied smirk. Denki huffs from the disrespect, crossing both arms over his chest. “Full of myself? It’s not my fault I’m sexy—*an autograph? Of course!"

Katsuki chuckles, scratching under his chin with ink blue fingertips, "Call yourself sexy one more fuckin’ time and I'm projectile vomiti—no, I'm not signing your tits, give me a goddamn paper or somethin—"

"What?” Denki scoffs, chest collapsing with the disbelief that one could make such a lie. “I'm literally the definition of I'm sexy and I kno—"

"Um, excuse me?"

His gesticulations freeze at the passive voice, arms stretched wide and to the sky, and Denki knows he has to look absolutely ridiculous as he blinks down at the next person in-line; who's stood with bambi eyes and such a sweet smile the electric blond thinks it might make him sick.

"I-I'm your biggest fan! Could you—um, please sign this for me?"

She comes alive, shoving a poster into his chest with pink cheeks and shifty irises. Out of all the bras, all the breasts he's been asked to sign today, and here you are, with your pocket-sized poster and your lamb countenance. Denki beams.

"Of course, Sweetness! What's your name?"

"[Y/N]!" you say, giggling, and it's so. Cute. Denki opens the Sharpie and struggles to focus on signing instead of your gorgeous fucking face.

"Anything specific you'd like me to say?"

And he knows there's a rule—there always are when it comes to these things, and it's simple: don't fuck the fans. As tempting as it is, don't invite them back to your hotel room because there are too many uncertainties, and if something leaks to the press that’s possibly career ending, that’s it. So, Denki holds his tongue. For the future of himself and the band.

"Uhm, just write what you want! I...I think I'd like it best if it was authentic and came straight from you, so."

Fuck. Of course she does.

And maybe Denki just can't help it when he leans down to speak, perhaps a little lower, "You want something more authentic, cutie?"

You light up like a kid on Christmas, gasping, "Yes please Mr. Kaminari!"

So eager, too.

"Awe, you can call me Denki if you'd like," he coos, and you nod so quickly he starts to worry about whiplash. "Meet me out back, in the alley behind the venue if you wanna get to know me better. Sound like a deal?”

"O-Okay!" You nod, and when he returns your sign you grip it tight between both hands. "I'll um, see you soon Mr. Kami—I mean, D-Denki!"

You flush from the mix up and bow in apology, and Denki knows he's made the right choice when you light up, indicating you have no idea what he meant at all.

"Row row row your boat, gently down the stream," you hum, sniffling. You’re unsure if your nose is running, it's too frozen to tell, and it has you patting to confirm it’s presence. With your hands stuffed in your pockets and a jacket wrapped tight around your body, you'd think you'd be warm, but no.

The alley is dark. It's dank enough that you can smell it and you're positive what you're dancing in is vomit, but none the matter—today, you met your favorite band. Literally the people you'd die for.

"Merrily, merrily," kicking the loose rocks in the gravel every which way, you enjoy the sound of them scattering against the surrounding brick walls. "Merrily, merrily..."

"Life is but a dream," a voice finishes, a yelp rips from your throat and you jump twenty feet in alarm. But you’d know that voice anywhere; Denki chuckles at your reaction and it has you recoiling with timidity, unprepared for the surprised audience. "You have a lovely voice, Cutie. You should use it more often."

"I..." but you're not exactly sure what to say to that, knowing Denki's heard so many professional voices in his career to last a lifetime, and yet yours is lovely. "T-Thank you."

Denki watches your reaction with a hum and a smile, his visible breath escaping between the slit of his lips and into the cool air.

"Of course, Cutie."

Another voice sighs, shattering the friction that fills your gut when Denki gives you that look. You're not sure what to call it, but it makes you shiver, and that's enough to make you to run and hide.

"...Denki, who's this?"

"Um," the blond places his frozen hands in his pockets and swivels his head around to Hanta, guilty written all over his face. "A fan?"

Hanta sighs again, head tilting to the right in exhausperation, “Denki—"

"I know, I know," the electric blond sighs, waving him off. "But it's fine as long as we don't get caught, right?"

Hanta's black hair threatens to fall into his face so he combs through it, and you try not to drool at the sight of his bicep flexing. "Yeah, until we get caught."

A honk blares and it has you shrieking, to reveal a parked tour bus in the alley once the lights flicker on. Denki points the car keys at the vehicle and the doors swing open. "Awe c'mon, don't be a sour puss. It's a one-time thing, alright?"

Hanta's eyes narrow into slits.

"Seriously, dude! I'm a man of my word! On God."

The noirette's shoulders sag, but he waltzes around both of you to get on the bus. Over his shoulder, he warns, "Denki I swear to fucking god—"

"I'll be careful, I'll be careful~" he singsongs, hopping onto the stairs after the pianist. When Denki notices not you're not moving, he stills at the top step. "You coming, [Y/N]?"

"O-Oh, am I um, am I allowed?" You ask, biting your cheek at the thought of what Hanta just said as you peer around the electric blond’s body. Denki snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, you're allowed," he exits the bus, only to tug you on via your collar. "Now c'mon! Let's have some fun, yeah?"

"Okay!"

Denki steers you through the bus and into a space that looks a bit like a living room, with a couch, tv, and a makeshift kitchen in the corner. Following Denki to the kitchen, you look around.

"Where are Kirishima and Bakugou?"

"Out drinking," Denki tosses, flicking open a RedBull. You wonder if this is always the post-concert routine. Hanta fiddles in with something on the couch, but he still has yet to look you in the eyes tonight, even when you ask him:

"What are you doing?"

It seems he didn't realize you’ve relocated from the kitchen to the couch next to him from the noirette nearly jumps. The green stuff in his fingers crumbles, and you scrunch your nose at the smell.

"It stinks," you add. Denki snorts, jumping onto the cushion to your right. There isn’t a whole lot of room and his addition causes your shoulders to slush between the two of them, but it’s strangely comfortable.

"It's weed," he explains like it's obvious. "You smoke, Cutie?"

"Obviously not," you and Hanta say at the same time. You turn his way, and for the first time that night, Hanta looks you in the eyes—and it's a smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners, but there's...something else. Something else hidden behind the thinnest veil that makes you cower, if ever so slightly.

Something feral.

Denki, unaware of the crushing grip your hand has around your thigh, huffs, and tosses the energy drink down his gullet, "It was a genuine question! Geez."

"What are you doing?" You ask again, and the electric blond whimpers from being ignored.

"Rolling a joint," he utters, lifting the paper to his lips to lick the length. You watch, semi-disgusted, as Hanta finally folds over the last bit of paper around the crest of the joint, gluing it together.

"Know what a joint is?" The noirette implores.

"Yeah," you breathe, shifting at the new closeness Denki provides when you feel his chest against your back. "My roommate smokes, so."

Hanta taps it on a tray, or what Denki describes as "packing it down," before twisting the tip and tossing it back onto the tray in conclusion. Denki cheers.

"Aha! The joint-rolling master has blessed us! Everyone say thank you, joint-rolling master."

"Thank you, joint-rolling master!" You giggle when Hanta's face turns a ruddy red. He reaches over to pop Denki upside the head. Denki gasps, before lunging to return the favor, and you squeal from being jostled between two men.

"Okay," when Denki returns to his seat he's panting and so is the noirette. He picks the joint off the tray and though there isn't much room, turns so he's facing you, your legs smushed against his body indian style. "You ready, Cutie?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," you huff, swinging your arms in preparation despite the lack of space. Just in case.

Hanta snorts, holding the joint to your lips, and Denki raises the lighter and raises it to the end until it's hot enough to burn on its own.

“Now suck."

You do, cheeks puffing, and you blow the smoke straight in Denki's face. It's...a lot.

"Not quite," Hanta chuckles, and flips you via the waist so you're facing him. Denki whines from the change but finds solace in hooking his chin over your shoulder. "Suck, and then inhale. Act like it's a big breath—you gotta hold it in your lungs for a sec."

"Okay," you assert with a nod, eyes burning with a new determination. When Hanta holds it to your lips, you suck and inhale, and start coughing your throat raw, in a flurry of smoke and tears, eyes watering and nose burning. You scramble for water, but by the time you get some, the only thing that's left to soothe is a sore throat.

"Here," Denki offers, grabbing the joint before flipping you his way again. "Take smaller hits, like this."

Denki's mouth wraps around the tip and smoke pours from his lips so smoothly you're determined to do the same. With a raised eyebrow, he passes it back to you, and though it takes a moment, you try again.

The back of your throat tingles but the glide is much smoother, and you find that it doesn't burn on your next exhale. So you do it again. And again. And agai—

"Okay," Hanta picks the joint from your fingers with a click of his tongue, before taking a hit himself. You frown, making grabby hands.

"Hey, wai—"

"Nu-uh," he tuts, pushing you down by your forehead. "You'll feel it soon enough, trust me."

You whine, crossing your arms over your chest. Hanta gives you nothing but a raised eyebrow as he takes another hit, and you're convinced it's to taunt you. "I'm not eve—"

But then the world blurs, a bit, and your legs hum in a way they haven't before; it's warm and it's nice, and it has you blinking down at your hands in bewilderment. Whoa.

"And there she goes," Denki announces, and somehow seized the joint from the noirette when you weren't looking. Your mouth drops to say something, but all you can produce is a light giggle before it melts into a guffaw that only comes straight from the gut, your hands trying to soothe your cramping belly. Tears come to your eyes fairly easily, and when Hanta asks if you're okay he sounds like he's underwater, and that's enough to send you flying through another fit of laughs.

"I—y-yeah, I'm just—just fine," you snort behind a hand, chest spasming as you finally gather yourself enough to calm down. "I'm good. Mhm."

"Yep. Totally fine," Hanta says, but something in his tone suggests he doesn't believe you at all.

You nod, biting your bottom lip to avoid another laugh attack with your hands bunching the bottom of your shirt for extra purchase. Hanta narrows his eyes while taking another hit, so you sock him in the shoulder with a huff. "Stop looking at me like that."

The noirette snorts, "Like what?"

"Like..." you start strong, but falter under his eyes. "Like you want to eat me."

Hanta hums at the comment but says nothing, and you're not sure if your mind fabricated the quick look he gives the electric blond sat behind you. Denki speaks first.

"Do you know what shotgunning is, [Y/N]?"

You frown, "Like a shotgun?"

"So no," Hanta answers for you.

"Here," Denki offers, turning you again. Plucking the nub of a joint from the noirette, he takes a big hit before picking your face up by the jaw and hovering your lips over yours. You're not sure what to do, but once your lips connect, smoke fills your lungs, and you don't exhale until Denki pulls away. You blink, a little dazed.

You just kissed Denki Kaminari.

"Feel good?" He asks, never leaving your personal space. You nod, and he grins. "Wanna do it again?"

Your hands fist his shirt, teeth tearing the inside of your cheek due to the amount of embarrassment this question encourages. "I wan—can we do it again but without the um...without the smoke?"

Denki's hands find your hips and it's hard for him to contain a sly smirk, biting his lips to move in on his prey.

"I knew I waned you the second I saw you."

Denki's lips feel much better when he puts a little weight into the kiss, pinning you between him and the noirette. You're not exactly sure what you're doing but he takes the lead, titling his head and kissing harder, rougher, so your lips are pink and swollen by the time he pulls away.

"A-Another," you whimper, tightening your grip around his tee.

Denki hums in contemplation, picking your head up by your chin. "Ask nicely, Cutie."

Flushing deeper, your eyes dart to the coffee table.

“Another, please."

"Good girl," Denki coos, and he's propping you up against Hanta's chest. You shiver at the comment, finding purchase on Hanta's thighs as Denki kisses you on the lips again. "Wanna feel even better?"

"Yes," you nod vehemently. "Yes please."

Denki hums at that, climbing down your body as his hands glide from your waist to the band of your pants. You frown, "What—What are you doing?"

"Eating you out, Cutie," the electric blond says, hands freezing once his thumbs dip under your waistband. "That okay?"

"Oh okay," you breathe, relaxing against Hanta's chest. "Y-Yeah, that's fine."

Denki rips your pants off at that, tossing them towards the corner of the room and ultimately, to a place you'll probably never find them. Pushing your panties to the side, he licks his lips at the sight of your pussy, and flicks your clit with a smirk. You jump.

"H-Hey, that's not—"

He flattens his tongue against your slit and chuckles when you shudder, and after tossing both of your legs over his shoulders. You're not sure what he does after that though, because Hanta picks your face up by the chin and presses his lips to yours.

Denki slides a finger inside and you squeal against Hanta's chapped lips. You hear the electric blond moan, readjusting himself between your thighs, before you finally peel your lips off the noirette's, chest having from lack of oxygen.

"Such a pretty pussy, Baby," Denki gushes before his warm lips fold around your clit and he sucks, humming in surprise when you buck against his mouth. Hanta hooks his chin around your shoulder with a second joint dangling between his lips—and where it came from is beyond you.

Once he exhales, the joint finds its way between your lips and he instructs you to inhale, and the head rush afterwards has you digging your head into his chest.

"You're so wet, holy shit," Denki pulls away, lips strawberry pink and glossed with slick as he trades his both for his thumb and inserting another finger. It crooks just right and that's enough to make your hips buck, nails carving crescents in Hanta's thighs.

“T-There,” you whimper, wiggling your hips again, and Denki grins, thumb pressing into your clit. Your thighs quiver with the strain it takes to hold them back and Hanta’s calloused hands skip to your waist after dropping the burning joint off in the tray.

“Pull his hair,” the noirette commands, but you hesitate, hands glued to his thighs. Hanta sighs, reaching over you to tug for himself.

“Mph—fuck!” Denki’s eyelids flutter as he moans into your pussy with a new passion, his hands wrapping around your thighs to hold you in place. You gasp at his reaction, fingers scrambling under Hanta’s own to thread through his electric blond hair.

“Move your hips—grind against his face, c’mon,” Hanta’s grip tightens around your waist as he offers the suggestion, and you whimper with a nod before your bucking into Denki’s mouth without abandon. As the noirette trails butterfly kisses up the column of your neck, the coil in your gut snaps, and you barely have time to squeak out a warning before you’re flooding Denki’s mouth.

“Good girl...ride it out—there you go,” Hanta coos, biting your ear. You shiver as Denki pulls away with a final (and obscene) slurp, grinning like he didn’t just shatter you to pieces with nothing but his tongue and fingers.

Denki’s lips are on yours in a blink—you moan, legs still buzzing from the afterglow as you weakly grope for the small hairs on the back of his neck.

“Taste good, don’t ya?” He says with a click of a tongue after pulling away.

“I guess so,” you flush, the humiliation from so shamelessly digging your heels into Denki’s back finally settling in. Hanta reaches under your arm for Denki’s chin.

“What? Want a taste too?” The electric blond giggles, wiggling his eyebrows. Hanta snorts.

“If you could be so kind.”

Denki hums at that, placing a hand on your inner thigh for balance as he slams his lips on the noirette’s for the first time that night. He dives straight for the kill, tongue and teeth and everything, and Denki moas when Hanta’s teeth sink into his bottom lip; you find that you like it a lot.

Though eventually you tired of watching, and press the heel of your hand on Hanta’s hard cock through the fabric of his jeans. The pianist hisses, and you grin—you’ve got their attention now.

“Whoa Sweetheart, what are y—“

“I...I want more,” you assert despite the tremor in your voice. Hanta raises an eyebrow in question which has you pressing harder in hopes he’ll cave just as easily as before. Just in case, you add, “Please.”

Denki redirects your attention by squishing your cheeks until you’re looking him in the eyes. With dark eyes, he says, “You sure you want more, Cutie?”

You nod despite the restriction, “Wanna...wanna get to know you better.”

You watch Denki’s pupils dialate at that, and he can’t even hold back a groan when he says:

“Gods, Baby. We’re going to ruin you.”

unpopular opinion: bakugou's the bassist and kirishima's the drummer. fight me.

not me projecting 12yo sun's fantasy of getting railed in the tour bus by 5sos um—

#— 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 #kaminari smut #sero smut #kaminari x reader #sero x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction

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no-psi-nan · 2 years

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Kuniharu is cancelled and the people (well, 76 of them) have spoken...

It looks like Ms. Kaido is the winner by far! That may be partially my fault, due to a particular meta post...

Mr. Matsuzaki did well, but an equal number of people thought Kurumi should just stay single.

Interestingly enough, 4 different people suggested Kurumi have multiple partners, hell yeah! And 9 of you were ready to marry her yourselves LOL, power to the people!

Full results with the potential reasonings I offered in the survey, plus people's explanations for their choices (optional), are under the cut!

Ms. Kaido (26%)

(40s, also eliminates Shun's absentee dad, has a career she can relaunch)

Milf squad <3

Ayyyy Mrs. Kaidou x Kurumi slow burn friends to lovers supremacy!! And we never see Kaidou's dad, soooooo...

I just want to know how Kusuo and Shun would feel about being stepbrothers

They all so tempting maybe she should just have a harem by this point but Ms. Kaidou is very very tempting one from that one post but still harem by this point cuz damn they all tempting

Tbh I saw your post about Kaidou's mom divorcing her current husband and having a slow burn with Kurumi, and it just really stuck with me? Like you're right, they both deserve better than what they currently have, and they have so much potential to improve each other. Genuinely think they make a good pair. Also, I like imagining Kaido and Kusuo having to deal with the fact that they're going to be brothers. Kusuke too. Lol, poor Kaido's going to have to deal with so much chaos from now on :D

She's a milf

girlboss milf x girlboss milf

Kaido needs a soft mother figure and saiki needs a strict parent figure so it helps both

sweet wife and tsundere wife that care about their kids so much

You know, I was leaning toward a Kuboyasu because of that girl gang Kurumi theory... But Kusuo needs more younger siblings to cancel out the garbage older brother he was cursed with.

They Balance each other. Also it’s funny

Mr. Matsuzaki (13%)

(???, already parents half the school, hard worker)

Idk i just…like him. I feel like Kusuo would hate it at first but be relieved to have a father figure. Plus Kusuo has said before that he does like Mr. Matsuzaki

THE MATSUZAKI OPTION'S DRIVING ME INSANEEEEE. kusuo already likes him but he would not know how to act if he gets a crush on his mom. dear god.

Look I know a dad when I see one. Mrs. Kaido is also a good choice but 4 siblings might be too much for Saiki.

Saiki has said that he is kind to him and I think the interactions could be cool. I don't really have a specific reason tbh, it's more of a vibes thing.

I just think....good dynamic. Not gonna elaborate

i just think mr matsuzaki is cool :]

Nobody (13%)

(Kurumi is a strong independent woman who doesn't need a spouse)

Kurimi starts a feminist movement where she creates a new gang that verbally\physically *deals with* useless husbands, and we love that for her.

I was going to say that Kurumi is not strong and indipendent enough but then the scene where she cooks a boot to Kuniharu crossed my mind and erased it all. Except this, I don't think she'd get married again, seeing the strong relationship she has with Kuniharu, but she'd need a partner, do you remember the episode where she keeps buying water and water cause she wasn't coraugeous enough to say no? Exactly. Thank goodness there was Kusuo but most importantly Kuniharu.

The survey-taker (12%)

(These people want to homewreck the Saiki family personally.)

i am going to homewreck this family watch me

she already has a manchild for a husband but im hotter so

I would take excellent care of Kurumi and be a wonderful spouse to her, she will live a life of luxury and love because she deserves it. I will also gently show kusuo that it is okay to rely on parental figures and also annoy him will dad jokes. And I will put Kusuke in therapy because lord knows he needs it.

Mrs. Kuboyasu (9%)

(??? we don't know her but the thought of an ex-gangster milf reunion is compelling...)

i was gonna pick midori BUT the 'exgangster milf reunion' got to me

Midori Nendo (9%)

(32, hard worker and managed to raise a great son by herself)

midori is objectively probably the best mother (at least in the anime) in this essay i wi–

Michael, midori, or matsuzaki are responsible adults who are not insane or horrible to kids. Midori preferred atm because I want to see the horror on kusukes face when he realizes Nendo is his brother, and Nendo is naturally immune to Kusuo’s gifts. Also midori and Kurumi are already friends so MILF friends to lovers. Also I would parent those kids myself but I don’t fit into this age criteria.

I want the milfs to kiss. Also nendo and saiki as brothers sounds like his worst nightmare, and id love to see it.

The idea of nendo and saiki being adopted brothers is so funny though

Rean Kuboyasu (4%)

(36, retired gangster)

No but like Kusuo would be super worried for a hot sec because the man's an ex-gangster but then it cuts to Kurumi absolutely destroying someone over something and he'd be like actually he's probably good for her. He would hate being Aren's brother though (the guy is cool but he almost rivals Shun in dramatics)

Chono the Magician (3%)

(27yo but has made an impressive career for himself in showbiz!)

I personally think either Chono (even though he’s Midori’s ex), Midori, Micheal or Ms. Kaidou would be good candidates for Kusuo’s step-dad/step-mom. Kurumi could work as a single mom too. Any of those options are good (Chono is my personal favorite tho lolol)

Chouno's admiration of saikis skills run the risk of causing the same complex that kuniharu had but tbh I just think hed be funny. also there would be a lot of complicated dynamics with nendous family now and i just like the chaos. on a more serious note i do really like chouno, and he already knows saiki has some crazy abilities and instead of becoming useless like kuniharu or being obsessive like kuusuke, he just got better at his job and took a little inspiration. also like u said, hes pretty well off now with a successful career, unlike kuniharu who just licked shoes, so. good dad, he seems nice :)

Micheal, the Magician's Assistant (3%)

(30s, excellent father to many pigeons)

Peanuts Ueda (1%)

(early 40s probably, successful comedian)

The magician Kusuo summoned one time (1%)

(??? he do be kinda hot tho)

My sister who has watched only the first couple of episodes wanted to put in her input. Originally, she said Michael, but then I showed a picture of him and she changed her mind

Kuniharu Saiki (1%)

(nooo I actually like him 🥺)

The write-ins

Both Mr. and Mrs. Nendo

Nendous dad has made Kusuo have that eye sparkle, (when the time travel thing happend), and he spends more time with him then his own dad does even as a ghost. Even if it is just to bug him to do random stuff, that is what actual dads do so its fine!

And you cant just have Nendous dad, Ms Nendou is a part of this package. Ms Nendou is a hard working women that deserves to have not only her husband, but a sweet and loving wifey as well! She would not only care for Kusuo, I also think she would set Kuusuke right, this boy needs some help.

Obviously for this to work, that means that Nedad did not die. Honestly once I had thought of this I could not put anything other then it

Both Mr. and Mrs. Kuboyasu

I feel like Mrs. Kuboyasu is still kinda mixed up in stuff, while Mr. Kuboyasu is like “the way of the househusband”. In my mind they are secure in their marriage and would never break apart after all they have been through. However, Adding in Kurumi’s “hold my flower” would be very interesting.

A kuniharu mannequin :J

Because it would be funny as hell if Kuniharu lost against his own mannequin shfjsjfu

pros: Kurumi keeps his spouse's good looks? ig, Kuniharu gets rekt, Mannequin doesn't talk :J

cons: still looks like Kuniharu

#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k #saiki no psi nan #sknpn #kurumi saiki #nopsi's milfposting mondays #nopsi nonsense #no i did not vote in this. the magician and peanuts votes are just as surprising to me as they are to you XD XD #some of you guys are funnier than me and that's illegal SMH #nopsi graphics

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genshxn · 3 years

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@/datonecanadianartist asked:

A Zhongli x reader where the reader is a chaos magnet like Bennett, but unlike him they refuse to get any help and finally Zhongli tricks them to help them? Many thanks friend!

i hope this is something like what you had in mind :,D

it’s also a little long lmao-

【ｚｈｏｎｇｌｉ】

chaos magnet s/o refuses to get help until they get tricked (ft. Chongyun)

warnings ; haunting

There was only one other person you had heard of who had your level of bullshit, and it was some poor kid who lived in Mondstadt. Apparently the events that would follow you were on par with what he’d experience.

And more often than not, your partner Zhongli would get caught in the cross fire. Treasure hoarders would always know where you are. Zhongli would just send them flying with his monoliths, however. Or maybe you’d get hit in the head by an incoming bird, also knocking into Zhongli in the process. Either way, it’s always a little messy in the end.

He was more concerned for your safety than anything. You miraculously don’t get hurt amidst the chaos, but he isn’t sure how long this is going to last. The last thing he wants is for you to get hurt.

He’s tried to get you to do all sorts of things to try and get rid of this abysmal luck of yours. He’s bought about 30 different charms supposedly imbued with energy to repel bad luck. You refused to carry any.

Another time, you walked into your bedroom with him looking like he was about to start some kind of ritual, just waiting for you to arrive. You scrambled back out the door, not having a bar of it, and he had to chase you for a very long time before he finally caught you.

So those didn’t work.

Zhongli was wandering the streets of Liyue one day, simply wondering what else he could do to try and cure this ailment of yours, if it even was an ailment.

His mind wandered to something Hu Tao was prattling on about to do with mischievous ghosts causing trouble for people in their daily lives. He had overheard her talking about this in passing the other day. Perhaps this was something going on with you.

So he sought the help of an exorcist.

Except given his current track record, no way in hell was he going to be able to get you to sit down and stay still for the exorcist to do their work. So he’d have to come up with a plan to keep you in one place.

"My darling, tonight is a beautiful night in the harbour. Would you perchance go to dinner with me?" He asks you. He hopes he’s not being too suspicious to suddenly ask you to dinner out of the blue.

“Oh, yeah sure. I’ll go get ready.” You say, getting up to get changed into something a little nicer. Your hesitation likely would have come from the fact that he asked you so suddenly. He doesn’t blame you.

When you finally emerge from your room, you look lovely. He really wonders how you always look so good. But a little part inside him feels guilty because what he has planned may ruin your clothes slightly...

You make your way to Third Round Knockout where Zhongli had already made a reservation. The two of you sit and decide what you’ll order. He wants you to eat first before he potentially ruins your evening. Zhongli casts a glance beside him, where the young, blue haired exorcist was sitting eagerly. Zhongli previously told the exorcist his plan. The exorcist was to look like another customer for the time being until Zhongli gives the signal to begin the ritual. Zhongli would take care of keeping you in place so you don’t escape anywhere.

The two of you enjoy a lovely meal together, but you couldn’t help notice that Zhongli has been looking a little fidgety the entire time.

“Are you okay? You’ve been acting suspicious all evening.” You say, finishing your last mouthful of dessert.

Zhongli exhales and opens his eyes to meet yours. He looks very guilty. “I’m sorry for this, but it’s to help you.”

Before you could question what he meant by that, a stone structure had snapped around your waist and arms, keeping you in place. It wasn’t so tight that you couldn’t breath, but you certainly couldn’t go anywhere either.

“Zhongli, what?!”

“Chongyun,” He says. A blue haired youth in white attire jumps up from his chair and quickly summons six talismans in a hexagon, which then fly out towards you.

Everyone else in the surrounding area looks at you. There you were with a stone containment and talismans attached to your head.

“Evil spirit be purged!” The exorcist slams his fist onto his palm and the talismans all quickly dissipate. With a harrowing scream from an unknown source, a weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders.

“Wow! That was my first proper exorcism!” The boy exclaims. An exorcism? You were being haunted?

“What?!” You suddenly cry out. People suddenly look over in your direction.

“Ah, so my theory was correct,” Zhongli says to himself. “It was a malicious spirit following you around.”

“A ghost?”

“Yes. It was quite a potent one too. It managed to resist my pure yang energy enough to not run off in my presence,” The exorcist happily explains. “I don’t know how it got attached to you, but that should be the end of whatever harm it was causing you. Very well, I’d best be on my way now. My services are free of charge!” He says as a final note and walks off, barely containing his excitement of his first proper exorcism.

“Oh thank the gods, I forgot to pay him,” Zhongli mutters under his breath.

“Can you let me go now?” You ask.

“Oh! Yes, right. My apologies.” With a wave of his hand, your rocky constraints dissolve back into the earth.

“Right... Now what the hell was that?”

“I suppose I do owe you an explanation. It wasn’t fair of me to do something without your knowledge, but I had enlisted that exorcist on the chance that there was a ghost causing your abhorrent luck. Such events simply aren’t natural... But it turns out it was true. I’m very sorry for doing all this behind your back. I just don’t want you to eventually get hurt one day. The circumstances you could find yourself in could be perilous, and I don’t want to see the one I love suffer so often. It feels selfish since you didn’t want to do anything, but—“

You cut off Zhongli by placing a finger on his lips. “You don’t need to apologize so much. Thank you for looking out for me. It means a lot to me.” You pull him into a hug. The poor guy looked sad from guilt, so you have to show him he’s not in trouble. “But I won’t be able to have anymore crazy stories.”

“I think you’ve had enough for a life time for now.” He replies.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines

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otakusheep15 · 3 years

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SFW Alphabet - Satan

I had a really hard time trying to get Satan’s character right, so I hope I did a good job with this one

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s not super affectionate, physical, verbal, or otherwise. Really, that’s just a side-effect of him being born from pure wrath. He simply just can’t express emotions very well. You’ll most likely have to initiate any affection if you want it. However, he does also like when you lay your head on his lap and he reads to you since it doesn’t require much.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He’s the mom friend for sure. He helps you with anything you may need from studying to pranks. Of course, he does also make sure you both make it out of any trouble unscathed. I also lowkey see him as the type to carry around random snacks to feed strays he comes across, and he’ll give some to you so that you can also feed the strays.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Like I said, affection isn’t his strong suit, so cuddling isn’t really his thing. The closest he’ll get to cuddling is either you two sitting next to each other on the bed/couch or with him sitting up and you laying on his lap. He may also pat your head like you’re a cat. There might also be reading involved if he’s awake enough to read out loud to you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does like the idea of settling down, but he’s unsure if he really can. Yes, he can do basic household chores like cooking and cleaning, but he feels as though he couldn’t handle the more emotional side of settling down. Doing something like that means you truly love the person you’re with and he’s afraid that he might not have the emotional capacity to feel that strongly about someone. Then you came along and destroyed all of that nonsense. Now he wants nothing more than to drag you away and live out a romance just like in his favorite books.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

There would most likely be a lot of yelling. Also lots of things being thrown around in rage. When he’s mad, he’s mad, and a breakup is a great way to get him mad. If he’s the one initiating it, he’ll try to keep a level head, but that solely depends on how the other person reacts. If they’re also calm, then it’ll be pretty civil and respectful, and they might even stay friends after. However, if the other person starts getting mad, that only makes him worse and it does not get better for that other person.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Before you? He never even considered the idea. After you? That’s practically all he can think about. You know that one friend we all have that constantly gushes over sappy romance stories and constantly wishes how that could live them out with their partner? Yeah, that’s him. He’ll never admit that out loud though. The only one who actually knows about all of his fantasies are Asmo because he once walked in on him comparing you to this one character from a romance novel he liked (kinda like Levi with his anime).

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He knows how dangerous he can be. Not only is he a demon, and a powerful at that, but he also the literal embodiment of wrath. Even after years of keeping up his gentlemanly facade, all it takes is the slightest inconvenience to set him off. So he’s extra careful around you. Physically, he tries not to get to close to you, especially when he’s pissed off. Verbally, he tries to watch his language around you because he doesn’t want to hurt you by saying anything mean.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

His hugs are extremely rare but surprisingly nice. Since he’s scared he might hurt you by accident, and his lack of need for physical affection, he doesn’t hug you very often. However, they are super relaxing when they do happen. He hugs you just tight enough to keep you pressed to his body, but not so tight that it’s uncomfortable.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Out of all the brothers, he one of the last ones to say it. He’s not all the familiar with the concept of love, especially in romantic context. Obviously, he knows how it feels in theory, but he can hardly figure it out in practice. The worst part is that he knows he loves you, but he has no clue how to go about it. When he does finally say it, he seems perfectly calm and collected, but he’s internally screaming the whole time. You’ll never know.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Surprisingly, he’s not one to get jealous easily. One of the benefits of having a poor grasp on emotions maybe? Whatever the case, he always tends to take a more logical approach to things, relationships included. He knows that you’re loyal to him and so he trusts you. If he has any reason to be jealous, then he’ll talk to you and workout any problems or concerns.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses can go one of two ways. They can 1) be the softest, most romantic kisses you’ve ever felt in your life, or 2) the most heated and passionate kisses you’ve ever felt in your life. Literally no in between. The former will usually happen during softer moments of bliss. Maybe you two were just in his room and relaxing or in the library studying. The latter only ever happens during more ~spicy~ times *wink wink*.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He hates kids. That’s it. He hates them. They’re such a hassle, they need constant supervision and care, and they never shut up. He is a firm believer in children being the worst creatures in all the three realms.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He always wakes up first no matter what. He’ll go down to the kitchen and make you a cup of tea, but that’s only when you guys don’t have school. If you do have school, he’ll wake you up as gently as possible and help you get ready.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He’ll usually drag you to hs room so that you two can spend the evening reading together. Sometimes you end up sitting next to each other and reading your own books, others you may end up in his lap while he reads to you. You mostly end up falling sleep first, and he’ll follow soon after.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

This boy is the definition of closed off. It does not matter how close you are to him or how much he trusts you, he will never tell you anything. Okay, he does tell you some things, but only surface level stuff. If you want the real, honest answers he has, you need to pry them out yourself.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Lmao what’s patience? Seriously though, he actually has a decent amount of patience. He trained himself really hard in order o control his anger, so he can actually be pretty chill for the most part. Obviously, he still gets mad all the time, especially with Lucifer, but he does try his best.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’s totally the type to write down facts about you in a secret journal somewhere so that he can reference it later. He has a great memory, but he loves just writing down everything you tell him about yourself just in case he forgets anything. He will never tell you or anyone else about the journal, but if anyone finds out, they will never be heard from again.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He isn’t one to have any particular moment in mind, but he absolutely treasures those quiet moments when you two are alone. No brothers to bother you, plenty of books and snacks, and just each others presence. It’s quiet, calm and peaceful. These moments don’t happen very often due to the chaos around you, so when they do happen it’s special. Just being able to spend time with you is his favorite thing in all three worlds.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is arguably one of the most protective brothers, and that’s saying something. The second someone even hints at hurting you, they’re dead. They just cease to exist. He will not let a single thing harm his precious human, and he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure your safety. He’d even go so far as to get himself in trouble if it means getting you out of it.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He’s much more casual than most of his brothers, so he doesn’t see the need in planning over-the-top dates. Obviously, he wants you to be happy no matter what, but he knows he doesn’t need extravagant dates to make that happen. I mean, if you like things like that he’ll certainly try for you, but it’s just not his style. He prefers causal, lowkey dates. Coffee shop dates, going to bookstores together, sitting in his or your room and reading all day, and going out to play with the stray cats are all ideal dates for him. He just knows that, as long as you two are together, everything is already perfect.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Obviously, he has some issues he needs to work out. His anger issues are, of course, the main issue, but that also leads into other problems. For example, his daddy issues hatred for Lucifer is something he needs to get sorted out. He also has a hard time expressing his true feelings for fear of letting his anger out as well. Most of his issues are emotional, so he needs a lot of time to work on them.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not so much concerned with physical appearance so much as social appearance. he is highly concerned about how he looks to the public. If he needs to look physically appealing in order to keep a good social standing, then he’ll do it. He’s not vain like Asmo or Mammon, but he’d be quick to put more into his appearance if it means he gains something out of it socially.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Honestly, he’s felt incomplete since being born, so even with you he doesn’t feel quite complete. You definitely help fill some of that void he has in him, but not even you can fix him completely. If you did leave him, he’d be back at square one, so he needs you to be there in order to make him feel even the slightest bit more whole.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

As I stated before, I think he keeps a journal of all of your interests so that he can remember then, but I think it goes deeper than that. I also think he has one for each of his brothers that he keeps on him. Any time one of his brothers mentions something they like, he’ll write it down to keep it for later. That way, if an occasion (birthday, anniversary, etc.) that would require this information would ever arise, he would already have it written down. No one knows about these, and he’ll take this secret to his grave.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He refuses to even acknowledge someone without even the slightest bit of academic prowess. If he deems you to be stupid, you’ll never even hear from him again. He also cannot stand people who dislike cats.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He has a tendency to move around a lot when he sleeps. No one has any clue as to why, but it’s not really a problem. That is until you two start sleeping together. He either ends up on top of you or kicking you out of the bed. In the morning, he’ll apologize, but it’s not something he can really fix.

#OBEY ME #shall we date obey me #shall we date satan #sfw alphabet #scenarios #headcanon

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

DEBRIS AND MISERY

SAME OLD LOKI ; PART 6 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.3k (oops) SUMMARY: You find yourself venturing deeper into finding the Loki variant on the loose with the help of Mobius and Loki while maintaining your temper around the God of mischief and fighting with your own demons. A/N: Downtime apparently lasted for more than a week. I had absolutely no motivation to write but I eventually came around. There’s alot going on in this. Please tell me what you think, what you love, hate and look forward to. Thank you so much for showing so much love to d&m. gif from this gifset by @sersi WARNINGS: Swearing. Imagery relating to death (i think?). You and Loki’s relationship fluctuating like the goddamn economy. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

Blue. Your flight suit is blue.

Your eyes sting with worry, ticking to a pair of hands buckling the straps that lay across your chest. A man secures it tightly, forcing your back against the cockpit chair. Your gaze drifts to the concentric steel rings of yellow, red, and white that stretch overhead and around you—being suspended within a 3-axis gimbal sends another churning sensation within your abdomen.

You hear a voice. It courses through the room and vibrates within your ears like fluttering echoes in a tunnel. It’s a man. He calls out your name from below.

“You ready?”

In your periphery, you see him, tall with slicked-back hair, standing with other men that adorn similar flight suits of blue. You nod, inhaling deeply as your hands reach for the controls. Suddenly, a metallic clang echoes through the room and the machine whirrs to life. The rings begin spinning in tandem, tossing your body in all directions. Your grip tightens around the controls, clicking with every push and pull as you struggle to analyze the spin. But, the machine spins faster.

Faster and faster and faster.

The machine continues to whirr. Your hands are still shifting the controls.

Faster and faster and faster.

Your eyes begin to droop, nausea taking hold of your body.

Faster and faster and faster.

You only hear your breaths; every inhale and exhale—they're loud.

Faster and faster and faster.

Too fast.

Stop.

...

Click. Click. Click.

Footsteps. Not the clicks of the controls. You hear them clicking against tile floors from afar. From darkness, your eyes meet the color brown, shiny and polished—it’s wooden. The sound of the vast building’s acoustics hum in tune with the occasional chatter and echoing thump. You recognize the ambiance and it comforts your hasty thoughts as your brain tries to wreck itself in comprehending your current surroundings.

It’s one of those dreams again. The ones that kept you awake at night since the Sakaar incident, as if reliving the memories of another life. It isn’t yours but the realism to it makes it so complex that your brain cannot even comprehend the experiences during these dreams that occur.

To see, touch, hear, smell, and taste. Do dreams exceed the limit of disconnection and logic? Are dreams to be so immersive that it feels more like a memory, an echo of the past?

Through the turmoil of parsing between what’s real and what’s not, a tap on your shoulder hauls you back to reality. You turn to see Mobius, looking ridiculously exhilarated. Behind him lingers an amused Loki, hands tugging into the pockets of his jacket. The analyst says your name with a tone of equal exuberance to his manner.

“I thought I’d find you here. Do you always sleep at the archives?”

You snort, seizing yourself up as you wipe your face with your palm in hopes of feeling slightly more awake and alive than you were before. “No. Sometimes, I sleep at my desk too.”

Exhausted and sarcastic. Typical you.

Mobius rounds the table to sit beside you, gesturing Loki to his previous spot before he got up and ran away from you without any explanation. He shoots you a smile, lips pressed together, almost hesitant to sit across from you. You watch him through narrowed eyes as you address him with folded arms. “And here you are, back here again.”

Loki cannot fight the growing grin upon his lips, knowing all too well that you're referring to how he led you into an unnecessary chase down the corridors of the TVA for the sake of his entertainment. Well, it was not unnecessary. Things were turning out to be a bore and with the sudden thought of a proposition to help with his case, it doesn’t mean he has to drag out the fun of irritating the hell out of everyone else.

And you are not a bore.

“Loki! Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

You’re outright screaming at him but his long legs only stride faster than yours could handle, slumber still clinging to your face like a thick, waxen mask. He’s so quick, weaving through tangerine hallways, skidding across the tiled floors.

He saunters down the hall with quick feet but doesn’t sprint, clever enough not to draw any attention.

He ought to answer you. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he flashes you a cheeky smile. He swears he saw flames burning in your eyes for a moment.

As you wind another corner, you already see him making one last quick dart through the elevator doors that slide open as it dings unceremoniously. Through your wide-eyed gaze, you signal him with eyes that carry a warning.

“Don’t you dare close that fucking door.” you snarl, voice booming from down the hallway and so does the clicking of the heels of your Oxford shoes as you march towards him like you’re on the hunt for prey.

Loki jams his finger onto the button to close the doors, unable to wipe off his grin. “Don’t you trust me?” is all he says to you, sending you a wink through the closing gap of the elevator doors as he raises his palm to wave you farewell.

You decided Loki wasn’t worth the time he has already taken from your assigned paperwork. So, you returned to your desk with a trace of bitterness in your tongue while attempting to suppress the regret for actually feeling sorry for Loki. Only because you know how it is like to be alone.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. He makes you think he is capable of change, capable of compassion. He makes you think he cares from the way he looks at you with those eyes that flicker the spark of hope in you. This Loki is the same old Loki.

Well, maybe the one in Sakaar had a good chance of earning your trust. But that’s gone now.

You shift in your seat, elbows now leaning against the edge of the table. “And to answer your question, no. I do not trust you. And I never will.”

Famous last words of the variant turned analyst.

Nobody trusts you either.

Except for the grey-haired analyst with the obsession for jet skis and you never understood why. Maybe, it’s because you’re the only one who is willing to put up with his ramblings.

Mobius eyes you and Loki’s interaction as the two of you seem to fall into the rhythm of making things even more complex than it appears. It's all part of his grand plan. Mobius knows you well enough to know you are possibly enjoying Loki's company no matter how much he irritates you. And Loki, it's clear how he admires you and how you constantly surprise him every time he crosses paths with you.

“What would I ever do without your trust?” the God sneers, each articulation of every word wrapped in mockery paired with dramatically placing his hand to his heart. Your eye twitches, the spitfire of your personality ready to fire back with a probable nasty insult. Yet, Mobius places his hand on your shoulder, while the other outstretched towards Loki as if trying to keep the two of you apart.

“Okay, okay. No need to get all riled up now. We only just had a breakthrough in the case, and I’m not letting you kill each other just yet.”

Your anger seems to immediately wash away, replaced by curiosity. You blink at your colleague. “Breakthrough?”

“Yes, and it was surprisingly Loki’s theory. Now—”

“Why do I smell...sulfur?”

You cut his sentence short as a strong whiff of a reeked scent began to descend upon you, billowing in the air. You inhale deeply, brows furrowing in concentration and confusion. An overpowering scent of a decaying body, faint but strong enough to seem out of the ordinary. The archives never smell rotten, always floor polish. Mobius and Loki share a look. Mobius is the one to speak up, attempting to distract you from your sudden strong sense of smell. “Sulfur? What, like when there’s a demonic manifestation? I mean, we are in the presence of Loki—”

“You went to Pompeii, didn’t you?”

In all of the time he has spent with Mobius who had a constant laid-back and confident nature to him, he has never seen him so red in the face. As the situation unfolds, he wonders why Mobius has made it a point to hide that information with so much eagerness which now has proved to be useless. You’re not only intelligent but also quick—only in terms of the mind rather than your physical capabilities.

You can hardly run, but your brain outshines everyone else he has met in the TVA.

Mobius is now waiting for the imminent chaos and mayhem you’re about to bring. You’re going to call him insane like every other time he has suggested an out-of-the-ordinary idea. Causing a scene is one of your talents. He has his hand on your shoulder again.

“You hate Pompeii, Mobius. Why the hell would bring him—Wait.” Your eyes are wide and blinking. “You went to Pompeii. Alone. I know that from the look on your faces. Which means no reset charge...No Nexus event.” You pause, pursing your lips. Then, you avert your gaze to Loki who watches you curiously. “Are you suggesting the variant is hiding in apocalypses?”

Mobius’ laugh comes off like a puff of air. He pats you on the back like a proud uncle. “Back on the game, Agent!”

Loki is slightly impressed. Only slightly.

“Okay, you two stay here. I’ll go get the files. Great work, you two.” Mobius gestures to the both of you with an outstretched index finger, grin so wide as he scurries off. Mobius loves a good case, especially when there’s a breakthrough. And with you finally familiarizing yourself with working together with Loki, everything is finally starting to look up.

The two of you end up finding each other’s gaze and for the first time, you smile at him. It’s small but genuine.

“You know you could have told me.”

“I would have, but you don’t trust me, remember?”

You hum, raising a brow. “And running away was supposed to gain my trust?”

Loki chuckles, eyes flicking to the table. “I never said anything about gaining your trust.”

Your smile grows wider, and Loki decides how he prefers you like this—relaxed and amused.

He oddly sees his mother in you. It’s the way you look at him. Like you know him.

Right, you have met him. Once.

“What was I like? The one you met at Sakaar.”

You blink, slightly taken aback by his sudden question that hasn’t got to do with insinuating you.

“The same as you—barely tolerable,” you say tightly, heaving a sharp exhale. ”Just…a lot sadder.”

You hadn’t mentioned how he willingly helped escape your execution because a part of you still believes it all to be a lie. The TVA has your complete fidelity but ever since the Sakaar incident, your trust in the way the system works has been swayed. After years of being trapped in your mind, the question of whether your capabilities in logic have been damaged due to loneliness still begs. Judge Renslayer believes in your incompetence but you believe she hides a secret about the Time Keepers.

The three beings, creator of the TVA, personally convicted you as innocent, allowing you to maintain your job. Nothing of this makes sense.

Maybe Judge Renslayer lost all her faith in you, her second-best analyst because your Nexus event relates to Loki. The one variant that has been causing havoc to the Sacred Timeline. And this Loki, the one that seems to be very curious about your place in the TVA and the Time Keepers, is no different than the others.

You find yourself feeling an uncalled sense of sadness that dwells in your chest at the thought of leaving the only friendship you secretly wished to have maintained back at Sakaar. Before you let yourself fall into the abyss of melancholic wishful thinking, you swiftly direct the conversation elsewhere.

"I’m sorry Mobius referred to you as the devil,” you say coyly. “You really aren’t.”

Loki, who seems to catch on with the sarcastic tone of your voice, leans farther into his seat. “Really?”

A smirk returns to your face. “You're worse than the devil." He snorts, noticing the vague hint of crimson growing upon your cheeks and how your eyes seem to crinkle a little more than usual.

He finds himself swallowing under your stare, fiddling his fingers in an attempt to calm his sudden erratic heartbeat. A stutter under your now kind gaze—no one ever stares at him with a smile. "You are not the first to say that."

There’s another pause; Loki’s face is set with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You feel a pang of guilt in your chest in remembrance of how you’re not the first to have treated him the way you did. He’s dangerous but, there’s no reason for animosity. Yet, it all boils down to the lives he has willingly taken. It doesn’t differentiate him from the rest of the TVA.

Mysterious variant.

The devil is always in the details.

Strangely, the work of the devil may prove to be useful in times of cul-de-sacs as an idea comes to mind. “I think...I think I know where you’re at right now.” Your voice is light, distracted by your now running thoughts. You’re on your feet, chair squeaking as you push it back. Your pen is in your grasp and you wave it in the air, reflecting the gears that turn at high speed within your brain.

Frankly, you’re not making any sense. Loki furrows his brows, slowly standing. “What do you mean? I’m right here—"

“No. The other one. The variant. And it has to do with gum.”

You’re still not making sense and it’s clear that in your eyes, he is invisible. You’re the only one in that frenzied mind of yours.

“What?”

You don’t answer him, feet quickly bringing you down the passageway along the vast rows of shelves that stretch along with the floor’s pristine balcony of white and the two of you are back to playing chase and run. Only this time, the roles are reversed.

Mission Haven Hills: not successful.

Really not successful. Far from successful.

You witnessed the doom of bombing the Sacred Timeline, firsthand. Employees scramble at the controls as you watch the screen that looms over the control room. What was once a single line, running along with time has now grown like a tree with fruits of chaos, caused by Nexus events scattered across time and places.

You wished the dust would settle and this was all simply a dream but you realize this was his plan all along.

Bomb the timeline. Distract the TVA.

There is one thing you know about Loki. He is moved by revenge and resentment.

As if you possess some sort of telepsychic powers, a part of you feels that danger itself is within the vicinity of the TVA. The variant is here, you just know it.

You hope Mobius is okay.

Scurrying down the winding hallways, past the hurried time hunters, and past the time theaters, you find yourself heading towards the golden doors of the Time Keepers’ chambers. In a time of uncertainty, your gut is your only source of guidance.

At the end of the hallway, you see bodies on the ground, nearly lifeless—time hunters, either unarmed or batons missing. You plucked one of the sizzling batons from the ground as you cautiously stepped around the laying bodies. You clutch it tightly to calm the blood rushing to your head, pounding along with your heartbeat as you take on the venture into the foyer of the grand chambers with secrets not wanting to be unveiled.

You round the corner, following the wooden panels for walls laid along the entrance. The glowing end of the baton within your grasp reflects off the black porcelain tiles beneath your careful feet. You hear voices, grunts, and shouting as if in combat.

Then, you see them. Loki in his variant jacket and a woman with locks of blonde and streaks of black. She adorns a headpiece of golden horns—one broken off.

Isn't Loki supposed to be at Haven Hills?

Recognizing the presence of another, the two turn to you, daggers still held to each other's throats. Loki eyes you with wide eyes, a silent plea whether to help or stand down, you’re unsure. Your gaze shifts to the woman once more who watches you with an equal resemblance to the other.

Then, it hits you. You recognize the dark emerald cloak she wears. You know exactly who she is. You just never thought it would be a she.

“You!” Your exclamation is bitter, and it’s directed towards the woman who seems to be strangely expectant of your remark as if she already knows who you are. She is L1190, a Loki variant. The one who slashed you with the TVA’s baton, scaring your left cheek. The one who hauled you through the time door and left you stranded in Sakaar for thousands of years.

You know exactly what she has done. She knows what she has done.

“You did this to me!” you gesture to the scar on your left cheek, eyes fixated solely on her, nearing the two with caution. You’re angry. Very angry. All pent-up rage begging to be set free.

Before Loki could even perceive the current situation he landed in between two women who very much want him dead, you’re already swinging the baton to her face with full force but she blocks it with her sword but slightly staggers in her step. You glare at her. She seems a little surprised. In an instant, you take a step back and go for another strike to her rib, but she blocks you again, sliding away and dodging your hit by a mere second. You growl out of frustration, seething through your teeth, and without hesitation, you strike again. The fight goes on—strike, block, strike, dodge. And with every blow, your intensity escalates, each a little harder than the one before. Loki stands there, watching, speechless and frozen.

You strike again, the baton crackling less than an inch away from her face but she dodges just in time, swinging her sword across your face. It grazes your cheek, now a gash of crimson on top of your scar, and with the sudden blow of searing pain, you lose your balance.

The variant spins into a kick that sweeps your legs out from under, knocking you hard onto the ground. The baton rolls out from your grip. Your hand flies to the gash, trickling with blood.

“Hey!”

The brawl comes to a halt. You seize yourself up from the ground, back and head aching, turning to see Judge Renslayer accompanied by two hunters, batons held up in defense position. You were about to reach for your own that was a stretch away when suddenly, you felt a hand grip you by the collar, hauling you to your knees. Her sword held to your neck.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her.”

“Go for it.”

Your eyes are wide in shock, all anger towards the variant now turning into this churning feeling of betrayal that resides within your abdomen. Judge Renslayer doesn’t look at you, focus fixated on the two variants—it’s like you’re not even there.

The three start to charge towards you and you involuntarily shut your eyes. Then, as quick as a rattlesnake, Loki grabs the tempad hung at her waist and sends the three of you falling through the ground.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. Now, with your back landing hard on top of him, all you could think about is wanting to strangle him to death.

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

@mystoragehatesme

@the-maroon-panda

@kashasenpai

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson imagine #loki imagine #loki series #loki spoilers #sylvie #mobius #ravonna renslayer

60 notes · View notes

embrassemoi · 3 years

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 30

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L Warnings: Language, angst, meeting new characters Important Question: do you guys prefer shorter or longer chapters? also, I listened to first love / late spring by Mitski for this ch if anyone else wants to listen along!

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 30: Like a Tall Child

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Remus was alone for the trip back to King’s Cross; not wanting to be stuck with James or Peter who would only pester him. He mulled over his thoughts as his head rested against the window, watching the scenery whip by. But the more he had time to think, it caused more guilt to build; they were only trying to be supportive. They cared so much, still willing to associated with someone like… him. And all he did was push them away. He didn’t deserve real mates like them.

Remus tried to distract himself: knitting, drawing — reading next year’s material, but settled on pulling out his cartridge of cigarettes. About to light one, his attention was drawn to the soft knocking on the carriage door. Lily was there, waving before coming in.

“Hey,” she said, closing the door and sitting down. “I wanted to say bye for the summer.”

He exhaled, now itching for the rush of nicotine while Lily fidgeted in her seat. He already knew why she was there.

“Sev — Snape — came to me a couple days ago…”

It was impossible to escape, wasn’t it?

“They’re mad, his theories… He’s been telling me the entire year and kept going on about this one story… wild story of you and Y/N and the other Marauders…” Lily looked up nervously.

Instead of getting angry, Remus closed his eyes, feeling himself sink further into the cushions, centring his breathing. “What did he say?”

“He’s been telling me you’re a… a...”

“Werewolf?”

She froze at the word, having to take a deep inhale and suddenly looked paler than usual. Remus wanted to jump out of the moving train. “Yes,” she stated, “But I told him to bugger off.”

Lily stopped again, meeting his eyes. “So… It’s true?”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

Lily sat straight, leaning over and even putting a hand on her chest, close to her heart. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

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(Letters between Y/N and friends)

To my lovely Whiskers, I hope your summer has been grand so far. Are you sure you can’t spend time with me? It’s been so lonely. Prongs

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Dear Bambi, Unfortunately, I can’t. Mom’s dragging me to New York for the month. Something about being invited to do a special surgery. Said leaving me alone will do no good. I promise to bring you back a souvenir? How are things with Black? Whiskers

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My adoring, wonderful Whiskers, And it hasn’t. My parents are concerned. They’ve been trying to get me to talk about what happened but I can’t. Dumbledore and McGonagall have already started their punishments. He lost over 200 points for next year, got detention for half the year and he can’t try out for the Quidditch team if he wanted to. I wonder what they’ll do next. I love souvenirs! All things Muggle! Yours truly, Prongs/Bambi/James

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July 20th, 1976 Meet me in Times Square at 1 pm on the 8th. There’s a bench outside a bagel store, there’s no way you’ll miss it. Until next time, Matthew G.

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¡Hola! Greetings from Barcelona! My brothers took a few weeks off to spend time with me to come to Spain with my parents! They’re dragging me to a football game later. I heard they call it ‘soccer’ in North America. M. McKinnon

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Y/N L/N, Hello, I hope you’re having a wonderful break. Your letters are the highlight of my day and they keep me busy. So I hate to inform you that you need to stop sending me letters for now. I’m not supposed to be getting any and my parents are going to start confiscating them if I receive any more. I’m sorry. I can’t wait to see you in the fall. R.A.B

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I’m visiting Tuney with my parents in a few days. She moved to London for a clerical job in March and we’re meeting her boyfriend, Vernon! He sounds nice but she’s told me she’s nervous about me and magic around him. Lily

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Petals! I’m sure you’ll be fine! Who couldn't love you? Write back and tell me what happens!

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Whiskers, I’m with my parents up in Wales in their cottage. I was born there before having to move for my Dad’s work. Also, I think I have to get a rabbit. James always told people that I got my scars from a poorly behaved rabbit and if I’m not seen with one soon, people will start to question. Remus

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Does this mean I get to call you Moony now? Professor Moony? Wales? And that’s where that small accent comes from. It bleeds through when you’re concentrating or relaxing. And a rabbit? At least they’re cute! I’m sure you can just Transfigure a book though. Y/N

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Professor Moony? Haha, okay! And really? I never knew. I’m kind of embarrassed now. I’ve thought about that but at this point, I think it would be easier just to have one.

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Oh no! It’s nice! Gives you personality. I think it suits you well How about… Moody Moony near full moons? And Moody Moony Mondays on Mondays.

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Now you’ve gone too far. Bloody fucking Moody Moony? Have you ever heard of Mad-Eye Moody?

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Would you prefer 'my Moony' then?

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Yes, actually.

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August 6th, 1976

“Hurry up!”

She thudded down from the top of the staircase, dragging her trunk behind while her mother sped out of the terminal door, flagging down one of the zipping yellow taxis with her luggage in hand.

It was strange, being with her mother again after almost a year apart. She hadn’t come to King’s Cross again, instead sending her a bus fare in anticipation of school ending. She hoped for some sort of recognition, any kind of sign that she was missed but was only given a side-armed hug and delved back into work.

Y/N wondered if maybe she just didn’t want her there, hoping she would get lost and never come back. She only had been on a bus in London twice, therefore almost ensuring that she would get lost and would have stayed lost if she didn’t have extra spare change to use a payphone.

Ignoring the crackle of whispers as she strode to the cab, people blatantly stared at her unnatural coloured hair, as she entered the car, slamming the door shut.

“Where ya ladies off too?” Said the driver, pulling out a map from their car door.

“Cranberry Street, Brooklyn Heights.”

It was a quiet drive, aside from the driver drumming their fingers on the steering wheel at the sound of the Bee Gees blasting in the background. She watched other cabs whipping back and forth, people going on with their days, the dirty streets and building under construction.

“Hey, mom?” She asked, reasoning now was a good time to talk about her OWL results. She’d gotten them mere seconds before leaving their house back in London and she’d been putting off looking at the results until now.

She only grunted, flicking through one of her medical journals, jotting down notes. “I don’t have time right now.”

Y/N sighed, that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach expanded again. “It’s kind of important.”

“Not now.” She waved her hand and ended the conversation.

Thirty minutes later, the cab came to a stop as they grabbed their luggage and strolled up to the brownstone building they were renting for the month.

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Jet lag got to her as she unwinded lounged until finally getting up from bed that morning as her mom rushed around the house. She frantically was putting on shoes, dressed impeccably sharp, no doubt in hopes to make an impression as her eyes flew across her journal. Her feet were scrambling to the door as she flung her bag over her shoulder.

“Have a good d —” And then the door slammed shut.

She stared blankly at the door for a while and then turned around, getting ready for her day. A daint drum of excitement yet nervousness built up, pushing aside that sinking feeling. Today she was going to see Matthew again.

Having a few hours to spare, Y/N walked around, marvelling at the tall buildings and lights before heading into the heart of Time Square, immediately spotting the bench outside the bagel shop. She sat, waiting for him anxiously. She made sure to wear a hat, covering any sight of hair to avoid weird stares and chatter.

But then a few minutes turned into ten and then twenty minutes later.

Slipping out the letter again to make sure, she re-read it. Time Square, at one, today… near the bagel shop…

“Where y’at?”

Her head lifted as she jumped to her feet and pulled each other into a tight hug.

“Matthew!”

His face nuzzled into the side of her neck, arms wrapped around tight as her face pressed gently into his chest. Eventually, she pulled away - arms outstretched to get a good look.

Matthew Gaplin looked different. His hair, coarse and thick, had grown. He was taller, filled out more, tan skin became even tanner from the beating sun and he filled out.

His smile was large. “S’been so long.”

She gave him a small whack!

“Ow!” He jumped back, “What’s wrong wiv ya?”

“I thought you stood me up.”

“Sorry, doing something for Mom. Had to wait on line forever.”

He looked down bashfully, now staring at the hat. His face made a disgusted look. “It’s disgusting out. Why are you wearing —” Curiously lifting the hat, his lids widened astronomically as Y/N grabbed it, covering her wild hair.

“I told you,” she hissed.

“Right the Potter sport!” He gave a full-body laugh. “Oh come on, I wanna see it again!”

But her hand clamped down on that hat to prevent him from pulling it off. “No! The Muggles keep judging —“

“Muggles?” Matthew’s brows furrowed. “The fuck is a Muggle? Sounds… demeaning.”

“Sorry, it’s what they call No-Majs.”

“Ahh,” and then he moved to loop an arm around her shoulders and continued to walk. “Too good to use ol’American terms?”

“Turned British snob.”

They laughed loudly as he took charge, showing her around the city. There was something so calming amid the chaos of New York. The bustle, low chatter and his enthusiasm made it all the better.

Soon enough, after hours of walking around, they both came to a stop in a large park as they grew hungry. Matthew disappeared for a while, leaving her alone to lay down on the soft grass before returning, holding up a brown bag with two drinks.

“Got us bagels wiv schmear.”

She mumbled out a thanks and took it from him as he sat down on the grass beside her.

“Missed ya, really.”

She shoved him playfully, his head dropping bashfully. “Shut up.”

It stayed quiet for a bit, as they listened to the birds chirping until he broke the silence again. “Ya thinkin’ ‘bout moving back eventually, right?”

“Why?”

Matthew gave her a haughty look, contemplating his words carefully. “Do ya… not know? They’re losing the war.”

Momentary terror gripped her heart but she swallowed it down fast. “Matthew,” her voice dropped, “Please, I want a fun summer… can we not talk about the war? I have more than enough time to worry later."

He wanted to keep talking, worried for his good friend but he refrained, biting down on his lip and nodded stiffly.

“So…” he thought to himself, contemplating how to change the direction of their conversation and fast. “Fess up, what’s been goin’ on over there.”

“Huh?”

“You’re telling me you haven't — what is it called? Kissing?”

“Snogging?”

He smiled. “You’re telling me you haven’t snogged anyone of those rich Old-Majs yet?”

“Nope!” She spoke too quickly and voice was a little too high.

“Liar. Ya going tell me who then?” Y/N looked down, hand going to fiddle with the fem of her clothes while Matthew shook her. “Come on! Tell me!”

“Fine! His name is Sirius Black.”

Matthew's eyes widened in recognition as he sat upright. “You don’t mean the Black family? Gawd! No way!”

“What?”

“And ya don’t even know!” Matthew was full of amusement. “They’re one of the oldest wizarding families out there! Are you still wiv him?”

Y/N stopped, trying to conceal a chuckle. She didn’t have it in her to lie anymore. “No! He almost got me killed.”

“Ha. Ha, very clever. Fine, don’t tell me.”

“You? Anything exciting?”

Matthew snorted. “Fought over a fin if that counts as exciting.”

“You know that’s not what I'm talking about,” she teased.

He abruptly became very serious and it had Y/N sitting up straighter. Matthew breathed in, this time not looking at her but instead at his metal pop can. “I’ve… had a tumble wiv a few... didn’t matter their… genders.”

It took a second for his words to click in but when it did, her mouth fell open and saw his face fall as she pulled him into a tight hug. “I don’t care who you cop, just be safe and have fun.”

He mumbled into her shoulder. “Been rehearsing that since I knew you were visitin’.”

“Love ya, could never judge you.” He tried to look insulted from the babying but prickled with tears before wiping them away quickly.

“Bless ya!”

“You alright though?”

“Now that I know your reaction, never betta. Now, you talk, enough ‘bout me.”

After making sure he was okay, Y/N prattled about Hogwarts. Matthew would pop in a few times, asking her to clarify or ask what words the British used — he often called her his ‘British insight.’ She rambled much about her day, her new friends but made sure to leave out a few details. Matthew became peculiarly silent through most of her speech. It wasn’t like him to not try to speak up, but he looked at her with something she’d only seen a few times prior.

Matthew stared at her for a long time, analyzing with underlying adoration. “What did them Brits do to ya?”

She looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “Ya sound different.” He says calmly, going to sip on his pop. “Talk funny.”

“Tawk funny,” she mocked and earned a shove. “Different? How so?”

“Everything ‘bout you seems different. Y’look happier,” he smiles, although there was a twinge of hurt. “Talk softer, look different — move differently and ya voice sounds different… but the same.”

She takes a bit of her food. “I hope that isn’t a bad thing.”

Matthew smiles gently, sheepish but there. “Not at all.”

She smiled back. Matthew always knew how to make her smile and it felt good, normal.

“Happy looks good on ya.”

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She finally sat down, tired from the long day she spent wandering the city. But it wasn’t long until a tapping sound came from the window. Celeste was there, waiting with a letter in her beak. She walked up to her, letting her fly inside and opened the letter.

Got my OWL results. Outstanding in Astronomy, DADA, Charms, Transfigs. Exceeds Expectations in everything else but an Acceptable in Potions. Moony

She re-read that last part. Remus getting Acceptable in Potions? Her attention travelled to the stark white envelope peeking out from the side pocket of her carry-on. She marched up to it, ripping it open and scanned the paper.

Outstanding in Transfiguration, Potions and Herbology, Arithmancy. Exceeds Expectations in everything else except Poor in History of Magic. She cringed at that.

She immediately got up from her seat. Rushing over to the master bedroom, peeking her head in. “Mom?” She said quietly, “Can I talk to you.”

“Didn’t I tell you I was busy?” Her voice cut through. “It’s not the time to be a nuisance.”

A scorching feeling of anger thrummed through her but kept her voice low and steady. “That was a few days ago.”

"My answer didn't change."

Any semblance of calm vanished. “It’s about my OWLs. My future. I need some sort of guidance.”

“I wouldn’t understand them,” she sighed and peered up. There was an odd expression, borderlining on confusion and something else. “It’s not the same. I’m not a… witch like you are. I don’t know how to help you.”

“I’ll make it into No-Maj terms?” Y/N’s voice was tight and came rushing over to where she sat on the couch. And laid out her examination results. “Look, an O is the same as getting an A! It’s the highest grade you can get. And here,” she pointed, “My teacher, Professor Slughorn, invites me to parties because of my work in Potions class. I’m one of his top students.”

She glanced at her mom excitedly but was met with a look of annoyance and slight judgement. But she continued, “A-and in Herbology I'm doing excellent too! I was becoming interested in becoming a Healer. I told you in my letters. It’s similar to being —”

“I’m sorry,” her mother said but it didn’t have any trace of guilt or sorrow, “I’m busy and you’re getting in the way of work — my achievements — that you know are important.”

“Are mine not important?”

A thick, profound silence filled the space between them. Everything about the connotation had her averting her body, feeling the sinking in her chest explode. From the war, traumatic near death experience and her mother's constant aloof nature, it was her cracking point.

Snatching the OWLs results, she walked out the door, shutting it gently before diving into her room; throwing the covers over her head.

All the New-Maj and No-Maj children were told stories of the Boogeyman. To Y/N, it felt comparable to reverting to a small child as she tucked herself into a tight ball. She recalled watching all the other children running up their parents, being roped with large hugs and smiles, surrounded with infinite quantities of love as they left the school playground. She remembered being envious, wanting to have two parents as the images of the Boogeyman drew near.

There was an overwhelming sense to scream — to cry out for guidance as the knot in her stomach grew. Instead of her mother coming to her rescue — to reassure, to give any sense of security or safety while other parents would scare off the Boogeyman or monsters ready to nip at their children’s toes under the bed, Y/N was left in the dark as all sense of relief or love vanished. It left her vulnerable, exposed to the monsters lurking in the dark.

Her mother may have not been physically absent but it sure felt like it.

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【 Next Chapter 】

Slang dictionary:

Fin = $5 / five dollar bill Bagels with schmear = bagels with cream cheese Wait on line = the same as 'Wait in line' Pop = Canadian slang for soda / soft drinks Sport / old sport = (depending on the context) a term of endearment similar to buddy, pal, friend

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