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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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Hey I was wondering if you could do like Wednesday x fem yn but like Wednesday trying to tell mortica and gomez she has a gf and not knowing how they'd react and edin trys to help her and in the end they find out somehow you can pick if they take it good or bad but yea

A/n: I’ve seen this get asked to another person but I’m too proud of what I had already written to throw it away.

The crystal ball upon Wednesday’s desk taunted her with the impending call from her parents. Wednesday was something she hadn’t been in a long time; worried. The last time she had spoken with her parents, a lot had changed and one of the most recent and most prominent changes was that she had found herself a girlfriend.

How you met was the typical run of the mill meet cute, Wednesday was caught doing something she wasn’t meant to and she threatened to take your tongue, vocal chords and hands should you ever rat her out. Your response? “You’re beautiful.” Ever since then you had been constantly drawn to the chaos that was Wednesday Addams and not once has the thought of ever letting you go crossed her wicked mind. She was happy, a word she never thought she’d use in a lifetime but truly, for the first time in a long time she was happy. You made the insides of her hollow husk of a human vessel warm.

You lit a match and threw it upon her coal heart, setting it ablaze with the very foundations of life as the fires reflected in her dark eyes. You were her cara mia as she was your mon cher. For you Wednesday would die for you, kill for you, even live for you should you command it of her. It was moments like those that she began to see how alike she was to her father; Unhealthy obsessed with the object of their eternal attraction. So unhealthy in fact the pair might possibly be clinically insane with their love. However not even a highly facilitated psychiatric ward would be able to prevent Wednesday from coming back to you.

For she would have it burnt to the ground in your name as though she were a crazed religious fanatic, pleading her love to the only form of higher power that ever truly existed; You. If she had it her way, you’d both would’ve carved out and calcified your beating hearts for the other, to have and to hold until you were both cold and dead within the ground that would make up your grave. You would now and forever more belong to Wednesday as she would belong to you until the dark forces swelled you both whole; snuffing out your mortal flame for good.

So as Wednesday clamped down on her finger nails, bitting them right down to the nub and then some, Enid couldn’t help but feel concerned for her friend as she stared vehemently at her -seemingly- only form of communication with a look in her eyes. “What’s chomping you at the bit.” Enid asked, begrudging to know the answer but knew that Wednesday was in a situation where a friend was something that she could use right now. “My parents will be calling soon.” Wednesday merely said, not taking her eyes off of the crystal ball as though she was awaiting for it to go off.

“That’s great! Unless your relationship with them is questionable at best then that’s…not great.” Enid trails off when she began to notice that she wasn’t helping in making the situation any better even in the slightest. However the blonde wasn’t one to give up even in the face of adversity, Enid presses onward and upward. “My parents only sent me here to mold me in their image, to forge a carbon copy of themselves out of me by the time inn through with this place,” Enid stayed silent, “I get sent to the same dormitory my mother once resided, I have premonitions like she does.” Wednesday falls silent as her fists clenched in silent anguish.

“However I am not my mother, nor will I ever be like her because unlike her I have a heart to give and I gave it to y/n upon a moonlight night; the same night where the crows dropped dead before us and black dahlias bloomed by our feet.” Enid smiled warmly, remembering the twinkle in Wednesday’s eyes when she came back to the dome after her first official date with you down by the greenhouse. It was a dangerous twinkle but a twinkle none the less, Wednesday could’ve told her that you had a sparing match that ended with the tips of your blades poised at the others throat and the werewolf would’ve still somehow find it romantic.

“Now I am seemingly at an impasse with the illogical concerns of how my parents would react to me engaging in romantic circumstances with another girl, despite being well aware of their stances on societal demands.” Wednesday admitted, not use to feeling this vulnerable in front of another person but at this point in their relationship, Wednesday trusted Enid -despite how much of a gossip she could be- a smidge more then she did the rest of the student body that made up Nevermore. So if anything, this was Wednesday’s silent cry for Enid’s help and luckily she wasn’t overly dense to not notice.

“Wednesday,” Enid began as she moved over to stand by her friends’ side, “what your parents think shouldn’t reflect upon your relationship with y/n. You love her and she loves you, so why ruin a perfectly good thing by listening to what you parents think.” She places her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders and made sure that they were meeting eye to eye. “Never, not once, since I’ve came to know you had you given a shit about what others thought of you. So why give a shit now?” Wednesday has to admit, Enid was right. Why should she all of a sudden care when all she’s ever done thus far was deflect other peoples opinion on her. It made no logical sense but she guessed that now that you were in the picture with her; Wednesday worries about her parents perception of you.

Just as Enid was about to continue with her speech, the crystal ball went off and within the clear cut glass could the image of Gomez’ stout figure and Morticia’s taller frame could be seen as though they were actually trapped within the crystal itself. Upon seeing their daughter, Gomez and Morticia sat up straighter and smiled at Wednesday who only stared blankly at them, blinking slowly like a cat does when trying to convey their emotions to their owners. “There’s my little death moth, how’s Nevermore been treating you?” Gomez started as Morticia only took in her daughter’s expressions with a curious furrow in her brow but she didn’t speak upon it. Yet.

“Same as usual, however-“ “however you have found love, with a girl perhaps?” Wednesday straightened at her mother’s words. “How did you-“ “call it a mother’s intuition my dear death blossom.” Morticia’s unnerving voice cut her off as she looked to Gomez who was already looking at her, love sick. “Our daughter has found love Gomez, the ancestors must’ve blessed her already.” Gomez only grasped Morticia’s hand that rested on the chair arm tightly. “That’s amazing ‘tish, our little cope has found her forever mouse to play with until she too becomes a viper, until she becomes an Addams.” Wednesday perks up at this, her parents were indirectly giving you their blessing to marry her, to join your soul with hers as one until the end of your shared days.

Enid, still in the room, was trying her hardest not to squeal in excitement. Sure this event wouldn’t be until later down the line but she hopes she becomes your guys maid of honour.

#wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #Wednesday x you #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fic

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writingficsanddaydreams · 7 months

Text

Worried Thoughts

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: he thinks you’re afraid of him, but really you feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. If only you could figure out how to explain that.

Content: fluffy cozy piece. Just a hint of romance. Reader is autistic.

Warnings: reader is somewhat insecure about their autistic traits.

A/N: Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I’m sharing with all of you. It’s been a long time since I wrote any fanfic so I might do more, I might not, we’ll see. Story is based on live action Mihawk with some inspiration from the little bit I know about the anime. Enjoy!

—————

He’s frustrated with you.

He doesn’t let it show. Mihawk is too controlled for that, too stoic. Besides, you’ve come to learn the look of casual disdain he wears is for everyone, not just you.

But he’s still frustrated with you.

You can see it in the little things. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he watches you over his book. The long, drawn out sips of wine.

It’s the things you’ve learned to look for after a lifetime of having to watch and analyze and try so hard to fit in. A lifetime of trying to be normal.

Around Mihawk though? You don’t feel that need so much.

It’s why you let your eyes drift away from his intense, piercing gaze. It’s why, though you’re still afraid to let yourself stim too much or let too much excitement shine through when a special interest topic comes up, you do let yourself chew on your lip. And sometimes, when you catch yourself rocking because the silence is just a little too much, you don’t make yourself stop.

But still, he doesn’t quite understand it. He thinks you’re afraid of him.

You should be. Honestly you’re not sure why you aren’t. He’s the worlds greatest swordsman. He’s probably the most powerful person in all the seas. He wears that power like a cloak, holds himself in a way that warns people to step away. Step back.

You saw it in the village last week, when he had you sail with him to a nearby island so you could help pick up supplies. Folk recognized him and feared him.

To be honest, you thought he would leave you behind there. After all, he has no reason to keep sheltering you. It’s been a month since you washed up on the beach of his own gloomy island, a month since you barely evaded the monsters that live there and found your way to his door.

He let you stay, and you figured it was because of how pathetic you looked at the moment. A shipwrecked survivor on the brink of death, looking more like a drowned rat than a human.

It’s not that you’re actually pathetic. You’re not weak. Or at least not too much so. Honestly, you can hold your own against most folk back home, and you know how to sail a small ship just fine. Or at least, you thought you did.

That storm wounded your pride and has you questioning your seafaring skills.

The point is, you can take care of yourself overall. Though, you quickly learned after you first set sail a few years back that being the best in your village means nothing when so many folk out there are as powerful as gods. Competent or not, you’re nothing compared to the great warlord.

So why did he let you stay? Why was it, when you were getting ready to turn and walk away after setting foot on the village island, he handed you a small crate of supplies and said to not fall behind? Why was it he let you get back on his ship and sail all the way back here with him?

You haven’t asked him yet, because you’re a little afraid that maybe he’ll change his mind. You’ve come to like your life on this isolated island.

But you’re getting away from yourself again. Letting your thoughts drift. It’s been a week since that village visit and now you still sit within Mihawk’s vast and rather chilly castle, hyperaware of his piercing gaze digging into your head.

“You don’t need to be so afraid of me.”

His voice makes you jump, and you realize that you’ve been rocking where you sit as you stare at the book in your lap.

“I’m not,” you manage. “I…”

Your eyes latch onto the book. You’ve been reading it for a couple of days, but you’re having trouble focusing today. Whenever you look at the words, it makes you think about how yesterday you launched into a long analysis of the adventure genre and how it really is such a shame that people don’t appreciate this book as much, since even though it was one of the first of its type there’s been so many books that have built on it since that now it seems almost predictable.

Mihawk didn’t seem bothered at the time, but now you look back at it and you’re sure he must’ve been annoyed, or at the very least bored. You’re still kicking yourself for not taking the time to check his expression when you went on that endless monologue.

“You act afraid.”

You take a quick peek out the corner of your eye, watching as he casually sips from his wine glass. Firelight flickers across his face, lighting up those vivid eyes and casting a golden hue across his dark hair. He’s not looking at you anymore, but you know that he’s still aware of everything you do.

When you find your attention catching on his chiseled chest, you quickly force your gaze away.

“You are a warlord,” you say, trying to be teasing.

“An astute observation.”

“I’m not afraid of you though.” You close your book and with it close your eyes, trying to find the right words. Trying to get them all untangled. “I… I just don’t like eye contact. With anyone.”

“I see. That is reasonable.”

It’s not the response you expected. You’re used to people judging you when they learn how are you are. You’re used to people underestimating you and assuming the worst.

You glance back up at Mihawk, then quickly away to the fireplace instead. “I’m not very good with people,” you continue, “It’s not that I don’t like them, but I don’t always understand the rules of society and stuff. And I don’t always do things the way other folk do.”

When you peek back, he’s lifted a single eyebrow. You blush. Surely he’s already noticed that. Surely you’re being silly as you explain the obvious.

“The rules of society do tend to be rather boring.”

The way he says it, so straightforward as if it makes all the sense in the world… you feel relieved giggle bubble out of you.

“I suppose you really aren’t afraid of me then,” he says, just the slightest twitch forming a smile at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head slightly, then adds. “I was thinking about your theory yesterday. It was… Intriguing.”

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling that you never really thought you’d have for somebody so dangerous. Joy. Excitement. Perhaps even some infatuation, if you’re being honest with yourself.

His castle might be vast and chilly, but it’s also comfortable. And you’ve come to truly enjoy these times where you sit together in front of the fireplace, simply existing near each other. You’ve come to enjoy just being around him.

“Would… would you like to talk about it more?” You can’t help the hope that creeps into your tone.

“That would be pleasant.”

And so, you finally let that wall down just a little further. You let yourself start talking without holding back, let yourself feel comfortable.

When he rises from his chair and walks to stand closer to your own, his hand just barely brushing your shoulder, you let yourself feel a little bit at home.

#Mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #one piece mihawk #Help im so in love with this character #autistic!reader #proofreading I don’t know you

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canyourfavesurvivecastledracula · 2 months

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Air Bud, Golden Receiver

Case for survival:

Ain't no rule says a dog can't survive Castle Dracula

Case against survival:

Ain't no rule says a dog can survive Castle Dracula

Additional notes:

If the wolves try to challenge him to a game of pickup he will definitely destroy them. If they attack him like wolves, he will definitely die

Because of his triple threat of being an athlete, having luscious, wavy blonde hair, and also being a super cute dog, the Girlies may actually drawn to him more than Dracula. They may even be persuaded to join his team.

If Dracula challenges Bud to a game Bud might lose if it's one-on-one, but if he manages to get the Girlies to join his rag-tag team of misfits then they'd pull off a miracle shot in the last quarter.

Incredible.

So Dracula is not above killing literal dogs, as a certain Whitby mastiff will attest. But can he defeat one in Basketball? Does Castle Dracula have a have a Basketball court? Maybe it should! Maybe if Dracula had a better rec room his solicitors wouldn't keep climbing the walls or rushing about madly like a rat in a trap. He can put it next to the swimming pool.

How is Dracula's Game? He's inhumanly strong and fast, and his propensity for yeeting is unparalleled. But does he have the precision? Hitting a window with a wolf is not exactly the same as making a 3 pointer. Also I have read that White Guys Can't Jump, and Dracula is very very pale. I believe the only time in the novel we see him jump is out the window of his Picadilly house. Oh, and making landfall at Whitby in dog form. Is Dogcula better matched against Air Bud than regular type? And whom are we rooting for? Dracula is a sore loser - if Air Bud beats him in a fair game he'll probably gut him out of spite. He's actually more likely to survive if he loses. Is Air Bud savvy enough to throw the game? Is he willing to compromise his principles by doing so??

Alternatively, if Dracula refuses to meet him on the court, can Air Bud survive two months in a stone prison with no opportunity to play Basketball? His whole identity is Air Bud. In Castle Dracula he's just... Bud. I have also read that Ball Is Life - how, then, can he live without Ball?

Air Bud is a golden retriever - but so was Arthur Holmwood, and I killed him. But Air Bud doesn't need to shave, and animal blood is not as attractive to vampires anyway. Unlike Mr Harker, Air Bud is unlikely to be perceived as either a snack or a snacc.

All natural animals hate Dracula. Will Dracula take pleasure in subduing him and bending him to his will? Is his plan to be the only guy in England with a basketball playing dog? Does he think it will keep the Girlies out of trouble if they have a pet to keep them company while he's gone? Can Air Bud's luscious locks and athletic prowess (and being a super cute dog) win them to his team?

I have just consulted with my Ridiculous Dog Media contact, who tells me that (a) Air Bud never loses and (b) absolutely cannot climb. And despite my contact's exhortations, I do not believe Air Bud can convince Dracula to heel-face turn upon learning that it's about the game and cameraderie.

So I must sadly conclude that Air Bud can not survive Castle Dracula, and even if he could, could never hope to escape it. I hope the Girlies like basketball.

Addendum: TIL that there are fourteen Air Bud movies. I... I think that's too many probably...

#air bud #athletes #animals

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pherelesytsia · 9 months

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Who did this to you? - 9

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend’s house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.7k

Part 8

Chains, bloodied and graced with torn rotting flesh, moulding in the light of the wanning moon, dangled in all directions in the howling wind. Bones cracked under polished shoes freckled by grime and coated with rotting leaves. The lightbulbs among the broken were shining faintly, breaking the doom, the utter darkness ruling in the endless corridor leading into different vacant rusty halls.

The wind was howling, a lonely wolf, a hound greeting the full moon. Water dripped through the holey ceiling of metal and musty wood. The old building, far away from civilisation, with shattered windows barricaded by boards was surrounded.

The man clothed in a form-fitting suit didn’t bear a map, didn’t need a compass to find the right path. The faint stench of mould lingered in the stiff air. Rats fled in great haste, screeched and warned the brothers hiding in the holes in the ground and empty chests. A few dark grey strands illuminated the dark sea. Untroubled Thomas followed the path. His fingers tapped against the polished metal. He did not put his gaze over his shoulder, focused on the light showing the end of the tunnel. Deep hush voices exchanged brief words and the grin on his lips widened, thought of ways to harm the men who had dared to touch his wife.

Thomas tilted his head. The light hit the tip of his shoes, but the Shelby, a demon, the devil himself waiting patiently, remained in the shadows. Deftly, he leapt to the side, hiding behind the cargo crates stacked high from India, Africa and the far East. Footsteps echoed and a soft whimper, a kitten, a newborn calling for its mother, fell silent. More men, dark dressed creatures, followed the order with drawn weapons and waited for the signal. Thomas leaned forward, peering through the crack between the crates. Two men, shabbily dressed, stood in the light of the flickering yellowish bulb, but his keen eyes couldn’t find the source of the whimper.

“The money?” the thinner one pecked, wiping the oil from his fingers on his trousers.

The taller one laughed, folding his arms in front of his bulging chest.

“The woman will pay us off. I called her. By the end of the day, we’ll get the money.”, “We should have killed his wife right away,” the other said, leaning against the cargo boxes.

“Karl, I would have killed her, but the other guy came. We would have died otherwise. I know him, Solomons. He would have killed us,” he interjected.

“And what are we supposed to do now, Jimmy?” Karl questioned.

“And what will happen to us, Karl?” Jim asked.

Karl shrugged his shoulders. Eyes widened in shock, screams followed, bullets pierced flesh and grazed bones. Men in suits stormed the old run-down complex, a tsunami swallowing villages and towns. Closely followed by his men, Thomas entered the room, stepped closer with his gun drawn, fired and hit the bull’s eye, ran ahead, searched and cursed, but didn’t find the woman. Sweat cascaded his face, turned, and hoped the men could answer his questions, but the eyes had paled. Cursing, Thomas stared at his brothers opening the crates in the hope of finding Peggy in one of them.

“Where is she?” Arthur asked, heaving.

John cursed, nearly fell into the crate. Perplexed, he stared into the distance, cursed under his breath, turned with paled features towards his brothers and mumbled a short prayer.

The moon wandered on, over land and mountains, on and on, climbing hills and swimming over lakes and raging streams. Under the cover of the moon, ghastly shadows crept forth. Light burned in the mansion far away from civilisation, from towns and villages. The vehicles parked in front of the mansion were not neatly lined up. Curtains were drawn and didn’t allow to witness the people warming themselves by the flames, gnawing on the hardened biscuits and awakening the sense with the dark unsweetened liquid. The phone didn’t ring, and the bell didn’t announce a guest.

The clock was ticking, heels clicked against the creaking hardwood. Voices had died down, the women did not chatter as the gentle voice breathing delicate word into the microphone sang of love and gentle kisses. The women exchanged meaningless glances, glanced at the man they thought would never enter the house, who had settled down by the fireplace and was leafing through the book with his legs crossed, staring again and again at the doors and windows in search of grim faces pursued by evil intentions. Y/N warmed her fingers on the cup filled with tea and dipped her tongue in the warm liquid.

“Don’t worry, they will be here soon. It’s just a matter of time. Don’t worry, my dear.” Ada breathed.

She flashed the shaking woman a smile, breathed encouraging words, but they couldn’t banish the fear from her heart.

“They’ve been gone for a long time. At least three hours now.” Y/N breathed.

“You worry too much Y/N/N. The Shelby can take something. If he’s not here by seven, then we’ll go looking for him together.” Alfie joked.

Y/N stretched her arms into the air. Sleep gnawed on her bones and the voice in her head assured her that all would be well, that Thomas was on his way back, that the door would open soon and he would stand with Peggy and a promise to change by her side. She counted the seconds, focused on the clock, yet Y/N had lost track of time and space a long time ago. Her eyes widened. The tiredness was gone with the wind. Groaning, Y/N jumped and threw the blanket away. A wall, the last wall of defence rose in front of her and a palm settled on her back.

“Come, little one. We will go together. You stay here. I have everything under control. I saw a car.” Alfie said.

Y/N tried to argue, telling him to stay with the others, that she wanted to go alone, but no words crossed her lips and nodded. Alfie smiled, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, stuffed his gun into the pocket, and guided Y/N away from the richly set table. Keys jingled. Alfie pushed Y/N behind him, but the young woman went ahead. The cold air brushed her skin and painted her cheeks. Brows almost touched. Y/N looked questioningly at Peggy, shook her head, and lips parted.

“Peggy?” Y/N whispered, not believing her eyes, convinced she was about to awake from a dream.

She looked healthy. Not a drop of blood clung to the long white evening dress, looked like a woman on her way to church to walk down the aisle. The hair was laid in curls, dotted with pearls and glass shaped in tears. The bouquet, white and red flowers fell to the ground. A smile, false as a fox’s, sweet as a snake’s voice, spread on her lips.

“You’re well?” Y/N questioned.

“Why shouldn’t I be well? I am glad to see that you are well. I see nothing happened to you while I was away. I told you to wait for me at home. I could never have forgiven myself if something bad had happened to you.” Peggy spoke coldly, stoically, emotionlessly.

“Where’s Thomas? He’s out looking for you. I was worried about you.” Y/N uttered.

Spreading her arms, Y/N wanted to enclose Peggy in a tight hug, but fingers clawed deep into the thin material covering her, forcing her to stagger backwards.

“Alfie, can you please let go of me?’ Y/N demanded.

Y/N turned and stubbornly demanded to be let free, but Alfie shook his head.

“Why do you have to make everything more complicated? Get in there and don’t do anything stupid or you’ll all regret it. Are we clear?”, “I wouldn’t do that.” Alfie interjected. He removed his hand from the pistol and rose his hands into the air after he pulled Y/N closer to his chest.

“Peggy?” Y/N breathed, hoped the person bore a mask, but it was Peggy.

Colour drained from her features. Cold metal pressed deeper into her skin. Bloodshot eyes forced Alfie to step back and told him not to dare to waste a single thought about doing something he might regret. Questions nor curses crossed Y/N´s lips pressed into a fine line. A lonely tear cascaded down her left cheek and left a red burning mark on her skin. Y/N questioned her life, every decision she had made, every word and complain she had said to Peggy in hope she would aid her. Synchronically, Ada and Polly arose, aimed, but no shots pierced the air. Peggy chased Alfie away to stand by the wall and he listened and placed the weapon on the ground as the women as Peggy stood tall behind the crumbling shield.

“Why?” Y/N inquired, her heart bursting through skin and bone.

Peggy laughed and combed through Y/N´s locks with her long light-coloured nails.

“I should be in your place. It would have been so easy. But those idiots let you get away and then you were at my door and I just had to let you in. I called these fools. I knew they would be at the bar, and informed them that you were with me, that they should walk in and take care of you. I then set off here, wanting to inform all of you that something might have happened to Y/N. I would have taken your place, but this man had to interfere with my plan.” Peggy joked.

Her bloodshot eyes slid from one person to another and pointing her finger at the tall man settling down on the armchair by the crackling fire.

“How would you have done it? The Shelby wouldn’t have to believe you. Nobody would have.” Alfie questioned, with his arms crossed in front of his body.

“Nobody? Suddenly everybody was searching for Y/N. When I returned home, she was gone. I am a good actress, I had classes when I was young and played in the theatre, always the evil and wicked,” the woman huffed.

She chuckled.

“Thomas would have believed me. I would have played the good friend, helping him through this rough path. I just wanted to play the worried friend. I would have helped to find Y/N and then after a good month the case would have gone cold. The postman would have brought a letter from overseas and the problem would have been solved. Thomas would have found a good friend in me and later a wife,” she sneered.

“But they trashed your house.” Y/N breathed, eliciting a malicious laugh from the mad woman.

“I was a bit angry and had to let my anger run free. My plan was perfect.” she huffed, stroking Y/N’s skin with the weapon.

“You wanted to kill me?” Y/N breathed.

“No one cared about you, you told me everything, your former husband barely cared about you, you slept alone, spent your days alone, were air for everyone, I didn’t expect anyone to care about you.” Peggy laughed.

Y/N gulped, nodded, and breathed a soft prayer, prayed for the safety of all of them a few steps away from her.

“A confident woman. Why would I marry you?” a deep voice sneered.

Smiling, Peggy turned around, fixed her hair and let go of Y/N, but she was rooted into the ground, turning into a statue overgrown by moss.

“All these months you’ve been using me.” Y/N

The veil fell, and the wind carried away the dense mist. Y/N balled her hands into fists, nails bore deep into the soft flesh, but no sound escaped her lips. She faced Peggy, unfearful of the weapon in her right hand.

“You never told me to give Thomas a chance, to at least try to get along with him. You never said anything nice about him. When he gave me flowers or chocolate, you told me he’d cheated on me and feared I would find out.” Y/N whispered, her voice raising with every fallen word.

She remembered the forgotten, the lonely nights, the long calls, the endless hours spend in the small room and crying her heart out to the wrong person, hoping Peggy would help her like only a friend could.

“We spoke on the phone when Thomas didn’t come back that evening and instead of telling me that he must be working but you swore on your parents’ lives that you saw him in the arms of a woman.” Y/N cried out.

Y/N faced her friend, unfaced and untroubled by the loaded gun.

“I suppose that was a lie, too. Probably everything you told me was a lie,” Y/N whispered.

She remembered the nights she was pouring out her heart and the answers that were as false as the snake’s words. She raised her eyes and looked up at Thomas. The man swallowed, saw the questions in his wife’s eyes and smiled.

“I was never unfaithful, Y/N. I was a terrible husband, but I was always faithful to you,” Thomas assured her.

“I believe you,” Y/N whispered, but Thomas had heard the answer.

Y/N advanced, oblivious to the woman in the wedding garment, wanting to go towards her husband, but Peggy made it impossible for her to do so, getting in the way.

“Enough of this sweet talk.” Peggy chuckled.

Metal dazzled the eyes. She grabbed Y/N by the collar, scratched her skin, pressed her tightly against him. And the men and women, apart from Thomas, recoiled with their hands up. Thomas stashed his hands in his trouser pockets and nodded, guessing what she would demand.

“You let me out and nothing will happen to her.” Peggy requested.

The Shelby nodded, exchanged brief glances with his brothers.

“Good, go, you know the way. You hand Y/N over to me at the door. I leave my gun here and you put yours away. Do we understand each other?” Thomas spoke.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands here, Thomas, but I’ll take your offer. But I want them out of here. I want them all out of here in the kitchen.” Peggy interjected.

Thomas gestured to his siblings to leave, nodding, indicating that they should be on their way, that they shouldn’t worry, but his eyes betrayed him. Slowly, they rose from the sofa and did as Thomas ordered them again to leave. Heels clicked against the hardwood. Hush voices exchanged words, and the door slammed shut.

“Can we go?” Thomas probed.

Thomas walked ahead, showed the way, paused at the open door, pushed it wide open and motioned the woman to leave. His hands clenched into fists. He wanted to free Y/N from the woman’s clutches, heard the soft whimpering as Peggy grabbed her former friend. Teeth gritted. Peggy stopped and turned with Y/N.

“Here you go.” she shoved Y/N in his direction.

Y/N staggered forward, threatening to fall like a soldier, but arms wrapped tightly around her body, pressing her tightly to his chest. Thomas breathed loving words into her ear, pressed his dried lips on her skin and pressed featherlight kisses on her cheek. He murmured a prayer and begged for her forgiveness. Sweat danced down his face. He pressed another fleeting kiss on her temple. Thomas put his hands over her ears, deafening her to the screams and bullets piercing the air and suddenly, after all this time filled with screams and prayers, silence reigned over the land.

TagList:

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electrozeistyking · 1 month

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You can't automatically assume one tiny character in a "tiny AU" would be the same level of smallness as another character in a different "tiny AU."

Hi, there! For folks who don't know me, I'm the individual behind the "Tiny N AU," which is basically N from Murder Drones but make him tiny. Pretty self explanatory stuff. He's small now and we love him.

@megbanned is the individual behind the Mini Uzi AU. Same principle as Tiny N, but with Uzi instead and done drastically different. And most certainly a lot more often, I'd say.

We weren't aware of each other upon making our respective AUs, but from one individual with this kind of AU to another, I think it's fun! :D

That being said, I very recently got an ask on what would happen if Tiny N and Mini Uzi were to meet. And I was like, "Great! Yeah, this should be fun! I'll draw that at some point."

However, I'm also me. I wanted to do this other AU justice - so that meant I definitely looked through some things and did some "height comparisons." By which I mean I just looked at how tall Tiny N and Mini Uzi are compared to other characters.

Upon doing that, I realized something.

I have drawn Tiny N being held a bunch. Excluding the very first piece I did that technically started the AU, he's usually being held like this:

The second and third one are probably especially interesting, because you can get a very clear look at how small Tiny N is compared to V and Uzi. I try to make sure he stays roughly that size, though consistency is a pain.

But then I went to check how small Mini Uzi is.

The answer? MUCH SMALLER THAN TINY N.

I'm not going to put any of megbanned's drawings here because I don't want to do so without permission (and because you should totally just go check them out on your own time :3), but turns out Mini Uzi is much smaller than I realized.

Apparently it just? Never occurred to me she was that small until now?? Like, hello? One of the earliest pieces of this AU features her floating on a rubber duck in a mug of some kind! Mini Uzi fits in your palm, guys! You can shoot her out of a cardboard tube! You can't do that stuff with Tiny N!

Basically what I'm saying is we're pitting a rat against a hamster. Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk. Go follow megbanned.

#yeah so that's why i needed a confirmation mini uzi could talk #because tiny n is reduced to tiny animal noises #which is going to be especially funny when i get to drawing this for that ask #tiny n au #MiniUziAU #murder drones au #zeisty king's brain vomits #also after writing this i found out that we're mutuals now #WHICH IS VERY COINCIDENTAL I WILL SAY #SO YEAH HOLY FROGS

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spinningwebsandtales · 9 months

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Imagine Gojo Convincing You To Sneak Out Of The Dorms

Gojo Satoru X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Breaking the rules with Gojo, fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Part 2: here

(A/N:) I don’t know about y’all but I am LOVING the new season of Jujutsu Kaisen! I read the manga and keep up with all the chapters coming out but this was what I was most excited to see come to life. The arc that delves into the past is my top favorite and I love seeing student Gojo. So be prepared for some more Gojo fics and I even have a couple Toji fics lined up as well. If Gojo didn’t exist in the JJK universe I think I’d be a Toji fangirl through and through. Anyway I had to write this and sorry for my absence here lately hopefully that’ll make up for it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

You should have been asleep hours ago, but for some reason all you could do was lay in bed and look at the ceiling. The alarm clock at your bedside glowing in the darkness, reminding you of every minute that went by that you needed to get some sleep. Your frustrations grew when the time turned one in the morning and still sleep evaded you. You finally set up, the blankets bunching at your waist before reaching for the lamp at your bedside. You couldn’t even turn the switch when tapping came from your dorm window. You jumped, squeaking in surprise. With a trembling hand you turned on the lamp to spy a head of silvery white hair behind the glass. Gojo waved wildly, grinning like the cat that got the cream as he spotted you, wide awake. His ever present sunglasses reflecting the lamplight when you got up and walked to the window. He backed up giving you enough room to open it and peek your head out.

“What are you doing,” you seethed as you wanted to shout but had to stick with whispering angrily. “You scared me half to death!”

“Can’t sleep,” he asked while moving his body back and forth. It reminded you of rice moving in the wind. You snorted at the thought, as Gojo was slim and tall like rice. He cocked his head but you waved his curiosity away.

“No and now I really won’t be able to with my adrenaline going crazy thanks to you.”

“Let’s sneak out.”

Of course you should have known not to expect an apology from Gojo Satoru. You believed that he would burst into flames if he said ‘I’m sorry’. It wasn’t the powerful sorcerer in training’s style. But you found yourself drawn to him anyway as deep down despite his cocky attitude and devil may care attitude he was a good person. He would make a great teacher if he didn’t get kicked out from his incessant shenanigans first. You couldn’t believe the principal hadn’t gotten rid of him yet. Though you were sure it’s because Satoru was from the Gojo clan with a sprinkle of their teacher protecting him.

“No,” you answered your patience running short. “I’m sick of getting in trouble because of you.”

“We’ll be extra careful,” Gojo replied. “Those other times were just flukes.”

“And I’m sure leaving me alone to take the brunt of the blame was just a fluke too,” you retorted. “I’m not taking the fall for you anymore Satoru Gojo.”

You were about to shut the window in his face when he snagged the frame with his hand. His blue eyes staring straight through you as his sunglasses had slipped down his nose. You sucked in a breath as he grinned.

“We both know you ratted me out every time,” Gojo replied. You tried to pull the window close but his grip was firm and wouldn’t budge.

“I still got in trouble,” you said. There was no reason in lying to him as Gojo knew everything that happened in the school. And you weren’t ashamed at throwing him under the bus. It helped take your punishment down a notch. So if it helped you out and got the reason behind your bad behavior punished further, so be it. Gojo would do the same thing in the situation, if he actually cared about getting into trouble.

“C’mon,” he purred, “let’s go to the beach. You can’t sleep anyway.”

The beach did sound fun and despite yourself you felt your willpower beginning to flounder at every word and every glance in those heavenly blue eyes.

“Why don’t you go bother Geto,” you groaned. He chuckled before giving you a quick peck on the cheek. It stunned you but you didn’t let Gojo see how much the affection effected you. Climbing out of the window you stood beside your partner in crime within seconds. Your lamp still glowing on your bedside and the window ajar, you gently closed it back but not latching it. If you couldn’t get back into your room and you would have to bunk with Satoru and he wouldn’t let you sleep at all if you ever grew tired.

The city was asleep as you both rarely came across another person on the sidewalk you traversed. The ones you did run into turned out to be drunk office workers on their way home from drinking with their coworkers. Gojo would make fun of their stumbling gates as they passed by, which had you giggling into your hand. The air had a chill and you shivered at the icy breeze that passed through your night clothes. Despite acting like he didn’t care majority of the time about others unless ordered to, Gojo stepped closer every time pulling you into his side. His body though tall and lanky was well built and you blushed at the feeling of his toned form pressed against you. You only shoved him away after you warmed up and couldn’t take your burning cheeks anymore.

When you began to hear the waves lapping at the sandy shore did you take off running. Gojo quickly caught up and you both raced to the water. Of course he won and you wound up having to catch your breath halfway there. He teased you kicking at the water while all you could do was glare in his direction, which only made the young sorcerer laugh harder at your plight. Before you could finish regaining your strength, Gojo dashed across the sand again scooping you up and then running back to the water. You were sure he was going to throw you into the salty waves, but surprisingly he set you down gently in the sand. The lights of ships in the distance filled the night and the dock lights illuminated the golden sand. You breathed in deeply, filling your senses with fresh air. Though you knew if the principle found out you both had snuck out...again... you would be in horrible trouble you were glad you both snuck out. Your body wouldn’t allow you to sleep anyway and the atmosphere that surrounded the beach always soothed you no matter what.

Gojo was quiet for the longest time letting you soak in the calming surroundings in peace. When you sighed and your shoulders drooped, he silently took your hand. You glanced up at the young man that was just a little older than you, his blue eyes glancing down at you. An unfamiliar light glimmered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to question it. You were about to say something when an enraged voice called from the docks. Both your names echoed across the water and your blood froze. Foiled again and it didn’t take long for Gojo to revert back to normal Gojo, except this time when he took off running you were in tow. Your feet churned up sand and you could barely keep up, but as the adrenaline surged you found yourself laughing in amusement. Gojo laughed with you as you both ran to make your escape. The thought of going back never crossed your mind as you lost yourself enjoying the escape that Gojo talked you into. You gripped his hand tighter and willed yourself to run faster, keeping up with his longer legs while the teachers tried their best to keep up. You were glad that you weren’t able to sleep as you would have missed this with him.

#Gojo Satoru X Reader #Satoru Gojo X Reader #Satoru Gojo #Jujutsu Kaisen #Gojo Satoru Imagine #Jujutsu Kaisen Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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danosrosegarden · 9 months

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reader that is so polite and soft spoken and he’s drawn to them because they’re like literal sunshine but then they randomly say some aggressive opinion about how a corrupt politician should die or something and edward is just like “oh, yeah?”👀

idk if this is good lmao it’s my first time suggesting something but anyway your writing is beautiful and i hope you’re having a nice day!💚

pig in a poke - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{contains: mild descriptions of violence.}

☽ "I wish these guys would just drop dead sometimes."

☽ Edward's stomach churns, drops, implodes upon your words. Mitchell's face had been branded onto his mind. His sneering smile grinned at him in his darkest dreams with sharp, blood-stained fangs. He mocked him, with his "family values" campaign. Acting as if Gotham could've ever been a clean, moral place. What a sick fucking joke.

☽ Edward thought about it constantly; how it might happen if he ever actually did it. Mitchell's screams echoed in his mind like the clicking of heels in a barren hallway. Edward could break bones. He could tear through skin. He could make someone beg for their life. You couldn't. There was no way...was there?

☽ "W-what do you mean, honey?" Edward decides to approach the possibility slowly, carefully, with no loud noises or sudden movements. You look up at him from where you were laying on his chest on the couch, taking the lies and empty promises from the news channel in. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I don't really know these guys. It's just...they seem so phony, don't they?"

☽ Yes. Yes, they do, sweetheart. You're just like me. You understand! He could've jumped off the couch and started dancing with his overflowing joy. "Phony?" he questioned.

☽ You adjusted yourself to sit up beside him and sighed, gathering your thoughts. "Phony. Yeah, I guess that's the word. So...fake. Our city's full of...rats," you spat. "The corrupt. The filthy. We're filthy, Edward, we're being run and puppeteered by dirty liars."

☽ His heart was hammering in his chest, popping in his ears as you spoke. You kept your head down. You were quiet. Your mind ran around at a million miles an hour, but you reacted little. Edward liked you because you were like him. But he'd never imagined you were like him like this.

☽ "I guess I just wish somebody had the guts to do something about it," you said, laying your head back on his chest and flipping the channel. "That's all."

☽ A rerun of The Nanny droned from the TV as Edward watched you shut your eyes and drift off towards sleep. He could barely contain a wide-spread grin as he held you close. Did you know about his plans? Did you know about the website? Did you know about it all? He could feel the butterflies slamming around his chest. Breathe, Edward, just breathe.

☽ Edward fell in love with you because you saw him. You saw his bruised hurt, his aching anger, and you loved him anyway. But maybe he had got more than he bargained for when he chose you. More than he bargained for in the best way possible.

☽ He thought of your words with a sleepy, satisfied smile. I guess I just wish somebody had the guts to do something about it. Maybe you could help each other reach that goal sometime soon...together.

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #edward nashton x y/n #the riddler x y/n

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giamee · 18 hours

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𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🎐 )

even though you don't talk, they'll still find a way to listen

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | mute reader, jus some fluff really, bit on the short side

requested by @/anon

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ ok i should nawtttt have used this colour scheme im squinting like a rat at my screen tryna see what i'm saying. the title is 'cigarettes out the window' (shoutout tv girl) if u couldnt read it which i do not hold against u

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

it's simply in his nature to look out for others, to ensure that everyone is alright. and when he meets you, he's thrown for a loop a little. because you are fine.

the first time he sees you is in serval's workshop- you're just leaving, and something compels him to make sure that he speaks to you, even if it's for a few fleeting moments before you leave and he most likely never sees you again.

it's a simple question of how your day is, but you simply offer him a small smile before ducking past him, scurrying out of the door that he held open.

he's puzzled at first- maybe it's something to do with him? did you not want to talk to him? but then his sister explains that you're mute, and now he feels like a fool.

and thus begins his attempts to talk to you.

he writes you little notes to begin with. luckily for him, you're a regular at serval's shop, always seemingly having some device or another broken and in need of repairing. serval rolls her eyes at the pair of you- at gepard for being an idiot (you can still hear, you don't need notes), and at you for your attempts to run into her brother as often as possible (those machines weren't really broken).

despite this, it was somewhat amusing to watch the pair of you attempt to flirt with each other. and somewhat cute when your attempts worked.

you kept each and every one of gepard's notes to you, as redundant as they were. his handwriting was a little scruffy, and if you looked at them hard enough you could spot the little tremors where he tried to make the lettering neat.

a special treat was when he decided to add little doodles to them. it was anyone's guess as to what they were supposed to be- you were pretty sure that one of them was supposed to be you- and your heart warmed amidst the chicken scratch and stick figures.

you decide to write your own note back to him. in the top right corner is a little sketch of him, on a similar level to his own creations, that you hope he'll appreciate alongside the note.

you give it to him along with your best smile, mentally capturing the look of joy on gepard's fave at your little gift to him. you were gone by then, shyness overtaking your urge to stay, so you could only imagined his face when he realised that what you had written to him was a formal request to take him out on a date.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DAN HENG.

for dan heng to open up to someone new, several criteria have to be met.

for starters, he had to be at least a little bit comfortable around you. receptive, but not too probing or overbearing. rational, but not judgmental. open, but not too much.

in many ways, he was like a cat. you had to let him come to you.

and luckily for you, you seemed to fulfil those criteria.

as one of the newest additions to the astral express, you were in some sort of in-between phase of being one of them and a stranger. you communicated in your own ways, but you found yourself withdrawing to your room. it was overwhelming, this new environment.

it was only natural that you felt more drawn to dan heng more than anyone else. he had similar qualities to you- more introverted, tended to keep to himself. and, as you later found out, you both had a tendency to burn the midnight oil.

it became almost routine to run into him when you're both up late, wandering the astral express for some peace of mind. brief encounters with little nods sent your direction gradually evolved into longer moments spent basking in each other's presence, mostly in silence. but not always.

you both had your reasons to be up late- on the nights where dan heng looked more frazzled, a certain look in his eye, is when you began to piece him together.

he'd lend you some information of his own volition occasionally, telling you about the nightmare he had, recurring or not. there was just this certain quality to you, a look in your eye that made him feel like you truly did listen to him.

and he wouldn't trade your late-night rendevous for the world.

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

#୨୧ gia.txt :: gepard #୨୧ gia.txt :: dan heng #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader #gepard fluff #gepard landau fluff #hsr gepard fluff #hsr dan heng x reader #dan heng fluff #dan heng x reader #dan heng x reader fluff

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arolesbianism · 1 month

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Sigh. Why must you have died Aris, now I have to actually think abt what your abilities are instead of just sweeping it under the rug and calling it good enough

#rat rambles #eternal gales #like I do have stuff in mind but Ive been needing to flesh it out a bit more even if it doesnt rly come up much #basically shed the other side of the information translation coin that is tali #tali translates information into smth readable to people and aris translates information into smth usuable for a universe's purposes #im theory anyways aris doesnt actually get that much use out of that stuff since she only died once or twice #tali also only died once or twice but she had her connection to her role amplified by the whole scar debacle #if youve seen the blue string stuff in my eg art before then thats the stuff put in her face and eye #its basically just smth the narrator uses to gather and transfer information from different universes #so tali got tapped into that a lot more forcefully than most tali's in ither universes are #aris on the other hand mostly has her abilities expressed in a lot less immediately noticable ways #mostly just in her far too late newfound immunity to The Goop™#most of the others never rly directly get to use their theoretical abilities due to the fact they never die lol #bloom did die tho so congrats girlie you get to finish off the information triangle #she acts as the data storage itself 👍#great ability for a nine year old who just bled out and died #the others abilities get to be seen in their au counterparts at least #au snek being the most in your face one in that regard due to having died the most by a longshot #most of the others died only a handful of times with mostly no physical alterations from their abilities #au snek can still appear mostly normal but she always has splits between different sections of skin from when she is in meat snake mode #most of the others physical alterations are either just general universe chanres or aren't directly from their abilities #such as owl being all goopy from eating her original universe and au aris being all goopy because thats how she died #the goop™ is basically just a defense mechanism of the universe core btw #anyways au mase looks all edgy and shit because hes storing a shit ton of ppl in him #and then au fydd tali and bloom all just look different from being different agaes and going through different shit #au fydd is abt 15 au tali is abt 18 and au bloom is somewhere in her mid 30s #au sier is also around 18 and au aris is 14 #au mase and snek get to be the odd ones out as the only two who are the same ages as their main universe counterparts #I should rly get around to actually drawing all the au antags sometime soon its been like 5 or so years they desperately need drawn #I technically did draw them way Way back but that was all the crusty dusty original versions of them

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chisatowo · 2 years

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Added some ocs to artfight and just immediately put Ramp wayyy up on the character list no I do not have favorites

#rat rambles #oc posting #Im actually resorting my character list now to better rep the characters I most wanna see drawn this year #Ive got suckerz at the front now so ig shes the favorite dhsmhdkd #I feel like I have more furry friendly ocs on there now though so hopefully thatll add some variety to who gets drawn this year :]#I also kinda wanna make artfight icons for them all but also I rly need to actually make the refs I need to make first djskdhdk #I probably wont make refs for most of my newer ocs but I still wanna remake all the eternal gales refs at least #maybe I should try to get one done tonight Ive been making decent progress #I only need 5 or 6 more depending on if I get to making aris a new ref or not #which is still like a lot but considering that the amount of refs I needed to get to before artfight is 18 I consider that not too much #my main issue is with fydd since Ive kinda forgotten how to draw him #but the rest of the staliens shouldnt be too much of a problem if dancer and busy dont just murder me which they might

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dulcesiabits · 2 years

Text

umbra.

summary: You offer your blood to a wounded vampire in an alleyway, and now Ruggie can’t seem to leave you alone.

notes: 1.9k, fic, cw for violence, a short fic about Ruggie for @ridhearts fantastic vampire au!!

Ruggie hisses as he rips out a chunk of wood lodged in his shoulder, throwing it down the dim alley he’s currently hiding in.

Stupid vampire hunters, thinking their stakes would be enough to take him. Those things were about as effective as a sharpened pencil, and yet the hunters never learned. It’s not like getting stabbed repeatedly was fun, though it was far easier to deal with than the other weapons the hunters liked to carry around.

As soon as Ruggie got his hands on whatever human thought it would be cute to try to sabotage their monthly exchange by ambushing the Savanaclaw coven with the hunters… well, he’s certain some of the more restless coven members would appreciate having a human to chase down and tear to pieces. Ever since they implemented the deal with the neighboring town, giving blood in exchange for residents no longer fearing leaving their houses after dark, some of the vampires had been complaining about how boring it was to no longer hunt--

Footsteps. Ruggie’s ears twitches as he sits up, wincing. He isn’t in any condition to deal with more threats, not with all his wounds. He hadn’t been able to kill all of the hunters, so have they come back to take him down for good...?

“Are you okay?”

A pair of worn sneakers stops right in front of him. Ruggie’s eyes trail up to meet your concerned face, and he relaxes when he realizes you’re just some nosy human.

“Just fine,” he jokes weakly. You’re peering at all his wounds, and the stake still lodged in his thigh. Your gaze lingers on his fangs in particular, glinting in the faint moonlight. Ah, shit. Maybe he could snap your neck before you alerted--

“Do you need blood?” In one fluid motion, you roll your shirt sleeve up to your elbow, baring your wrist in front of him. “You’re a vampire, right?”

Are you stupid? Ruggie bites back the retort. What sort of person just brazenly offers their wrist to a vampire? If he wasn’t so nice, he could just drain you dry and leave your corpse for the rats, did you consider that?

Besides, he doesn’t recognize you. Ruggie has made it a point to memorize all the residents in the local town, which makes their dealings go much more smoothly. Are you new? Or just a visitor? Either way, it’s more dangerous for someone from out of town to get involved.

He’s not in any position to argue, though. He’s weak, and far from any ally, and a stupidly kind human is far preferable than an aggressive one.

“...I can’t make any promises that you’ll be safe,” he says instead.

You shrug. “Sure. I know the risks.”

“So... why are you doing this? Kinda weird to trust a vampire you just met, if you ask me.”

You pause, twisting a bracelet around your wrist. “I couldn’t just leave you here. It would have felt... wrong.”

Oh, so you weren’t just kind, you were also a bleeding heart. Lucky for him, at least.

Ruggie hesitates, before taking your wrist and bringing it close to his lips, his fangs grazing over your vein. You shiver, but simply incline your head. You never look away the whole time, your eyes boring into his own.

You’re strange, which is maybe why Ruggie impulsively kisses your wrist before he bites down as carefully as he can, first blood drawn.

---

It’s been a week since Ruggie last saw you.

After that night, he had staggered to his feet and left, and the two of you went your separate ways. It’s bothered him since, the fact that you helped him for nothing in exchange, and now it’s like he owes you.

Maybe you’ve already skipped out on town, gone back to whatever place you came from. Or maybe you got into some sort of trouble. Should he have walked you home that night? Anyone out that late should have known the dangers, but...

Ruggie has too much to worry about already. You were just a weird human, and there were plenty of those around. Still his thoughts drift to you, unbidden.

One evening out on town, he finally sees you again, carrying around a bag of groceries at the night market. Ruggie can’t believe his luck; he’s already running up to you before he knows what he’s doing.

“Hey,” he says.

“Oh! Hi,” you say, shifting the bags in your arms. “You’re that vampire that was bleeding in the alley.”

What a great first impression he gave you. “Do you need help with that?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay! I don’t want to bother you.”

You walk farther down the road, but Ruggie follows you.

Every two weeks or so, the humans in town gather together, stringing up lights and setting up stalls around a dusty plaza. You could find anything from homegrown vegetables and pots of jellies and jams, to handcrafted necklaces and watercolor paintings by local artists.

Those were just from the human vendors, though. Sometimes an enterprising vampire would discreetly set up a stall and sell blood, magical artifacts, or the odd trinket. It’s an unspoken neutral area, where both humans and vampires mingle without fear.

“Do you need anything else?” Ruggie persists. “I could help you bargain, if you want. I’m pretty good at that.”

“Can you just answer one question for me?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you want to help me?” you ask. “It’s not like you owe me anything.”

So you say, but he did. Bargaining and carrying your groceries were nothing compared to what you did for him, but it would go some way to filling the debt he owed you. That way, in the future, you couldn’t use it as a bargaining chip against him.

“...You helped me, so I want to help you. Is that so weird?” he says.

You tilt your head again, considering his words. “It’s not weird, but... okay, why not? Here.” You shove your groceries at him. “Why don’t you help me get some good deals? I just moved here, so I don’t know where I should shop.”

“Easy! You’re never gonna get better deals than you will tonight,” he boasts, and you slip your arm around his free one. Ruggie tries not to let his surprise show as the two of you walk along.

It even feels sort of nice.

---

It’s weird how easy it is to talk to you.

Whenever he has any free time, Ruggie spends it with you. Following you around town, showing you all the hidden paths and secluded stores. Pointing out residents, telling funny stories about them or their families. Taking walks in the park, feeding the stray cats that laze in the sun.

Part of it is that he doesn’t want to owe you, and it never hurt to be friendly with the humans in town so they don’t do stupid things like call the hunters on him. But the other part of it is that he likes you. A lot.

You touch him so casually, too, and never seem to give it a second thought. Grabbing his hand to lead him somewhere, linking arms as you stroll, leaning your head on his shoulder when you’re tired. Most of the humans he dealt with were afraid of him, so he’s not used to this, not at all. But it feels good, sometimes, how affectionate you are. Ruggie hasn’t been alive in centuries, but your hands are so warm it makes him forget.

Recently, you’ve been inviting him to come over to your apartment, where the two of you will just watch movies or TV shows to pass the time.

“I was approached by the hunters today,” you say casually, feet crossed on your couch.

“What? Why would they do that?” Ruggie asks, more focused on you than the movie.

“Because I’m ‘closely involved with the local coven,’ they said. Someone told them I’m friends with you, and I have a history of making friends with vampires, so I’m suspicious, I guess.”

“You have?” It makes sense if you’ve known other vampires in the past. It would explain why you were so casual with him, why you let him drink your blood that night without a second thought. Human and vampires having relationships isn’t particularly rare, so... why did it bother him so much?

“Oh, yeah. I used to live in the Heartslabyul area. I used to run around a lot with these two vampires, Ace and Deuce. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them? I had to move because of my job, but I’ve been meaning to go back to visit.”

“Ace and Deuce,” Ruggie says slowly, trying to dig through his memory. “Yeah. I’ve heard of them. They’re notorious troublemakers, right?”

You laugh. “No more than you are! Man, we had some good times together.”

“Do you want to move back there? To the Heartslabyul area?”

“Hmm. I mean, I miss my friends, but I like it here a lot. I mean, I got to meet you!”

Ruggie clears his throat. How could he respond to that? “So... when you say you were friends with those two. Did that mean, you know...”

“Did that mean...?” you prompt him to continue.

“Did they ever drink your blood?” he asks bluntly.

“Not really. Ace acts like he’s too cool to beg a human for blood, and Deuce is still a fledgling, so he hasn’t bit his first human yet. We just talked, hung out... mostly the same things I do with you.” You pause. “Are you asking because you want blood right now?”

Your couch is so small that your knees are touching his. If Ruggie turns and leans closer, he could kiss you.

“What? No. But...”

“But?”

The movie plays on, but he isn’t paying attention to it anymore. He doubts you are, either.

“You know how the coven’s made deals with the local townspeople? They supply us their blood, and we don’t hunt them?”

“Er... are you saying I need to join in...?”

“Nah. It’s nothing like that. I’m asking if...”

“Oh! You want to be the only one to feed on me?” you prompt. “And you’ll only feed on me in return?”

“Yeah, something like that. It wouldn’t be too bad, you know? I’m pretty close to the coven’s leader, so none of the other vampires would bother you, and if the hunters try to mess with you again, you can tell me and I’d get them to back off--”

“Ruggie,” you say firmly. “You don’t need to justify anything! I’ve seen some Heartslabyul vampires enter relationships like that with humans, so I know how it goes. I mean, I wouldn’t even accept if it was anyone else, but since it’s you, I’d love to.”

"Then... Why don’t we make it official right now?”

You move to roll up your sleeve again, but he grabs your wrist to stop you. Ruggie traces a pulse point on your neck with a finger, looking at you with a silent question. You nod, pulling the neck of your shirt down so he can have better access.

There’s no impulse this time as he kisses your neck gently, a balm to sooth you before the sting of his bite. It’s something to mark your relationship, too, and Ruggie will let you choose whatever name you want to call it. He’s not picky, not as long as it means the two of you are tied together.

He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you steady before he bites. You taste a little like salvation to him. As Ruggie drinks, he wonders what you’d think if he asks you to become a vampire, so he could stay by your side forever.

#liya writes #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi x reader #vamp au #im so sorry.... this is so self indulgent.......#even more so than usual.... im looking away.......

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joelswritingmistress · 3 months

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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 34

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

The night ended more lighthearted. Dr. Miller and I took advantage of the frozen lake and the scenery again, skating around and taking pictures of the winter wonderland. We had a few drinks, went out for dinner, and spent most of the night thereafter in the loft. If I had it my way, I wouldn’t have left that little nook in the woods.

“We should rent this place again in the summer,” I said to him. “I bet it’s nice to kayak around.. maybe go fishing.. hike the trails. Oh, and I saw a new, little brewery is supposed to be having its grand opening in May nearby.”

Dr. Miller smiled. “I can book it now for July.”

I loved thinkin about the future, even if it was just a matter of months. For a second I daydreamed images of a tan Dr. Miller by my side, shirtless and glistening in the sun. It made me smirk.

Bidding a temporary farewell to the lakeside cabin was bittersweet, though Dr. Miller already put in a request for the summer before we took off for home.

“The good news is we have another getaway at my sister’s wedding next weekend,” Dr. Miller explained as we hit the highway. “Can you get off work for the rehearsal dinner on Friday? I may cancel Thursday’s class so we can hit the road when you get out of work on Thursday. It’s a pretty good haul up to Vermont.”

I nodded, “Of course. I can’t wait.”

When Tuesday’s class rolled around I decided to confront Trevor on the walk out. His constant stares were starting to bug me and he hadn’t spoken a word to me since the day I’d left Dr. Stevenson’s class to give a sneaky kiss to Dr. Miller in his office. A part of me wanted to ask him what he thought he knew, but I also didn’t want to accidentally rat myself out - or Dr. Miller.

Otherwise, I was very much into the class discussion, and loved how Dr. Miller smiled a certain way when he called on me to answer a question. I loved his class. On a side note, there was a certain level of sneaky amusement I felt from having this secret life with him. No one in the class had even the slightest indication that we lived together, or that we just celebrated Valentine's Day shacked up in a remote, lakeside cabin. There was a part of me that got off on our secret.

“So,” Dr. Miller clapped his hands together. “I'm going to post something for you to read and look over. You'll be able to even discuss points online if you'd like, but Thursday's class will not meet in person. My sister is getting married out of state and I'll be traveling to Vermont on Thursday in preparation for that.”

“Congratulations!” Someone's voice echoed off the walls, making a few others laugh. “To your sister,” the person added, drawing more laughter.

“Thank you,” Dr. Miller responded with a chuckle. “If there are no further questions -”

“Class dismissed,” the group said in unison.

I smiled to myself and stuffed my notebook into my bag. It was always odd to me as I left the classroom. Dr. Miller and I were so affectionate and borderline clingy everywhere else. That's the only part I hated - not being able to be ourselves during that short time frame we had together on campus.

My phone went off and I glanced down, smiling when I saw it was him.

See you at home.

I glanced toward him and our eyes briefly met as he began packing up his black bag.

And then, as I ducked out into the hallway, Trevor leaned over getting a drink of water. He was one of the only people I ever saw use the water fountain in the building.

I went to call out to him but then decided against it. Why was I about to create a conflict out of nothing? Plus, I reminded myself, he had walked with me to class when I didn't want to walk alone.

I passed by, glancing over at him. Just as he finished getting a drink our eyes met for a brief moment. I looked away and kept walking, using the stairs to get up to the main floor.

Behind me, I heard Trevor clear his throat and then his feet peppered up the stairwell behind me. I yanked open the door to enter the lobby and Trevor’s footsteps came faster.

“Could you hold that, please?” His nasally voice called out.

I sighed to myself but turned around with a half-smile and a nod.

“Thank you.” He hurried to reach for the door and held it so I could go ahead first.

“No problem.” I continued walking and Trevor cleared his throat again as he scurried up beside me.

“Have any plans for the long weekend?” He asked, gripping the straps of his backpack as we wandered toward the main doors.

“Hmm.. I might go visit my parents,” I lied, “But nothing else. You?”

He shrugged. “I may go skiing.”

So am I, I thought, even though I didn't know how. Carol’s wedding. “You ski?”

“Doesn't everyone in the Catskills area?” He snorted a laugh at himself and I smirked.

“Everyone but me.” I smiled back. “I don't know how.”

“I've been skiing since I've been five.”

“Cool.”

“I could always give you lessons. I used to give lessons before I started working for UPS.”

“I didn't know you worked for UPS.”

“For now.” He grinned and followed me out into the parking lot.

I glanced over at him as he continued to trail me out into the parking lot. I felt like he was velcroed to me. He was so close.

“Well, I'll see ya later Trevor.” I reached for the handle on my car as I approached and he cleared his throat again.

What is his deal? I wanted to blurt it out, but I wasn’t the type to be super direct like that. He wasn’t doing anything wrong - just being awkward and slightly annoying.

Trevor raised a hand to wave, almost robotically, as I pulled out of the parking space and edged my way down the rows of cars to exit the campus parking lot. When I was close to a half-a-football field away, I caught a glimpse of him waving his hands wildly in my direction. I wasn’t even sure if he was trying to flag me down, or was summoning someone else. And so, I kept driving. I didn’t see Dr. Miller exit the building.

“What’s the matter?” Dr. Miller approached Trevor when he heard the commotion.

Trevor reached into the pocket of his jacket and stared down at the screen of a cell phone. He eyed the screen, reading a notification as it flashed across.

YOUR STOWE, VT LIFT TICKETS ARE NOW AVAILABLE TO PUT INTO I-WALLET. CLICK THE BANNER TO CONFIRM.

Dr. Miller’s eyes landed on the familiar phone cover. He had the urge to yank it from Trevor’s hand and demand why he had (Y/N)’s phone, but he knew he had to restrain himself.

“Who’s the phone belong to?” Dr. Miller asked, knowing damn well who it belonged to.

“I-I..” Trevor looked down at it again and spoke to himself. “She said she couldn’t ski.” He scratched his head and continued to stare at the screen.

“Trevor.” Dr. Miller closed the gap between the two of them. “Why do you have that phone?”

“One of my friends from class dropped it,” he claimed, “She just drove off. I was trying to flag her down.” Trevor slipped the phone back into his pocket and Dr. Miller extended his hand.

“I’ll turn it in to campus police.”

He kept the phone in his coat. “I can do that.”

“I insist.” Dr. Miller nodded and kept his palm facing up a few inches in front of Trevor. “I’m sticking around here anyway to do a few things.”

Trevor stared up at him, and then looked back down to his hand. He didn’t immediately hand over the phone. “Where did you say your sister’s wedding was?”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

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entomolog-t · 8 months

Text

Bite Me - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is here!! Slight deviations from the OG lil comic, but that just means I will have to redraw it. Aedes is having a pretty rough night.

Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Word count: 1686

CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language

June Murphy sits bolt upright, awaking to a sharp pain on her neck. A small but significant weight falls onto her lap as her mind blinks away the remnants of a dream. Confused, she looks down, squinting in the dark of her room. There was something on her lap-

It moved.

The sudden movement catches June off guard- a startled yelp escaping her lips. Something was in her bed. Something alive. Was there a mouse in her bed?? A rat?? The… thing takes off, scrambling in a way that causes her unease to rise. It didn't move right- It's limbs too long for a rodent, it's body far too thin. What could it- before she could finish her thought, it stood.

She didn’t scream - she couldn’t. Fear seemed to constrict her voice into some strained combination between a gasp and a yell.

What the fuck was in her bed!?

This felt like it should be a dream... but everything, despite the absurdity, felt very, very real. Yet, as if under the influence of some bizarre feral instinct, she feels like a bystander as she watches her hand shoot out, catching the figure in a tight fist. As soon as her fingers clasp around it she feels it squirm and thrash within her grasp, weird not-rodent legs kicking wildly. She shudders. It… it was snarling… was it feral? She feels as it claws into the flesh of her palm and a sense of dread wells up along with the pain; What if this thing was rabid?

In the dark of her room, June struggled to make out details, but whatever it was it did not like being caught. Steeling her nerves, she hesitantly brings it closer to her face. Her movement seems to only result in more frenzied struggles from the…the… What the Hell was that??

She blinks.

The scene before her is beyond surreal. A man- a very tiny man- thrashed about wildly in her grasp. As her eyes adjust to the dark, they meet with its- his own; wide with horror.

Her gaze falls to his lips- smeared red with blood. It gives a terrified little cry, sounding all too human in its fear.

All at once, June was wide awake.

It… it really was a man. A very tiny and very terrified man in her hand… A million questions seem to sound off at once in her mind. Was it really a man?? Maybe he was some sort of …creature?? Could he speak? Why was he in her house? Her last question fills her with a growing sense of horror at the snarling being in her hand…Why… Why was he in her bed?

The creature snarls, and before June has time to react- the creature bites, her hand releasing reflexively. She watches in horrified fascination as the thing jumps, diving off the side of her bed, its desperation all too clear in the way it scrambles to its feet.

The tiny frame of the… the what? The creature? The word felt wrong in her mind. That was no creature. That… that was a man. She watched as the tiny frame of the something darted around the corner of her desk. June felt like her brain was on autopilot. In a flash she was out of bed and dropping to her hands and knees, sliding herself in place between the door and the…. The… being.

“No, no, no, no-” A flurry of desperate words came from the creature. June drew in a sharp breath at the sound… It could speak. For a second, the thought sent a shiver down her spine. What the Hell had she found? As her eyes strained to adjust in the dark, she began to make out more details in its form. It moved erratically; head on a swivel- until its gaze settled on her… She felt uneasy. It looked intelligent… It looked like a man.

He was long limbed and lean, with a mess of black hair cut short at the sides. Her eyes were drawn to his ears, long and pointed and certainly not human. Was he an… elf ? A fairy? Despite him being directly in front of her, her mind dismissed the thought. That was ridiculous… Though, this whole situation was ridiculous, wasn’t it?

His chest heaved he backed himself into the corner of where her desk met the wall. It… he stared up at her, his large ears pinned back. She thought she might have glimpsed tears glittering in those tiny eyes… but more unnervingly, she could very easily see the blood on his lips. As he catches her eyes on his face, he frantically wipes the blood away- his movements unnaturally quick.

"Please." His voice, far deeper than she would have expected, cracked as he spoke. The sound made June wince, "Don't…" He stared up at her, eyes wide as he choked out his words "-hurt me."

His words caught her off guard- why would she… she wouldn’t- oh. June sees the way the little man holds his side. Had she hurt him when she grabbed him? She hadn’t meant to but… she certainly hadn’t been gentle in her panic either.

"Oh… no-I …I would never…." June struggled to find the words. She was still battling with the absurdity of the situation and his near palpable fear seemed to catch her off guard. For a moment, a fraction of the tension leaves the little man's frame. Almost as if acting on its own, June’s hand slowly reaches forward, wanting to comfort the pitiful sight.

The movement, however subtle, did not go over well. The man fell back, his back pressed firmly in the corner of her desk and the wall. Had there been even the slightest gap between the two June had no doubt he would have shoved himself between the two to avoid her touch. His face twists to a look of complete terror- eyes desperate and pleading.

“No! No, please!” She froze. Never in her life had she heard a voice so filled with fear, “Stay away from me!” June immediately withdrew her hand. His chest rose and fell with such speed it made her sick to her stomach. She felt her throat tighten… the thought of causing someone so much distress was overwhelming to the point of suffocating. She racked her brain for something-anything to say, but his shakey words interrupted her frenzied thoughts.

"Are you trying to catch or-" his voice faltered, "-kill me?"

Oh.

She grimaced. June didn't like that question… mainly because she was all too aware of her answer.

"If I'm being honest," she began, the words feeling like sandpaper on her tongue, "I do want to …um, catch you." She cringed. The word itself seemed to catch on her tongue..it felt dirty. You didn't catch a … a person. Was that what he was? But people… well people certainly weren't this small- And he was in her house! At the very least she deserved some answers... But even as those thoughts rose in her mind she knew all too well that they were just justification for a much greater force at play; curiosity. For a brief moment, the little man's breathing stops, his jaw agape, frozen from her admission. June watches as he looks quickly to her side, clearly looking to make a dash, then thinking better of it. As his eyes square back to her there seems to be a shift in his demeanor. She fumbles with her words, trying to elaborate in a way that doesn’t sound so blatantly awful, “I mean- It.. its not-”

“-And what if I don’t want to be caught?” There's venom in his words. His voice is angry… accusatory, but most potent of all, his voice is racked with fear. The raw emotion distills an unease June, as if the potency is just too much to take in. There was no lying to herself, no pretending she was unaware. Even in the dark corner of her room his fear was clear as day, and she knew without a doubt she was the source. Yet, his fear of her wasn't quite the source of her unease. No… it was that she knew she had all the power to stop it. She could just let him leave, whatever he was… but she wanted- no, she needed answers. She refused to outright think it, but the concept was still there in her mind, abstract and untouched; Until she got answers, his feelings came second to her own.

“If you didn’t want to be caught by me, then just what were you doing in my house?”

All at once he goes rigid. Petrified.

Shit.

June swallows her frustration, immediately back peddling.

“Look, you’re not- I don’t have to ca-” June sighs, rubbing her temples. There really was no good way to word this. "You don't have to be… caught…” The word still sticks in her throat, “I.. I just need some answers.”

She swallowed. Both literally as well as the guilt that gnawed at the edges of her mind. He looked horrified.

“I.. I really don't want to scare you... I just… don't want you to leave…Not before I get some answers.” June grits her teeth. Each of her responses left a foul taste in her mouth. She knows what her words truly mean; you’re my hostage until I get what I want. She pushes that thought deep down, wanting to forget her disgust.

“I don't have to be caught as long as I don't leave??” His fear seemed to evaporate for a split second as fury bled into its place, “Being caught and not leaving are the same damn if the premise is I don't want to be here!!” Just as fast as the rage had filled him it left… deflating him. His expression turned desperate, "And what happens if I try to leave, huh?" June sees tears welling up in his eyes. "Would you just catch me then?"

“I-” June’s voice falters. She knows her answer instantly, worse yet, she knows the shame on her face makes it clear.

" … I'm sorry."

#The snack that smiles back : June #Although more like the snack that talks back cause this girl wants answers #Ye old G/t debate: are you a trespasser or are you being held hostage?#g/t #giant/tiny #Entowrites #Bite me #JuneOC #AedesOC #G/t writing #G/t story #Tiny man #Tiny vampire #giantess

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