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chuunai · 3 months

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I had an idea for the 100 followers thingy- so like the babies thing but you’re a single mother (maybe teen mom?) and dazai (pm) falls in love with you and your baby :} ps- I LOVE YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF SUGAR 💗‼️‼️‼️

I’m trying I swear TvT

✧˚ · . you’re a virgin and I’m just a meth head - pm! dazai osamu

the new hire at the port mafia interests him. the baby, too.

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of teen pregnancy, reader and PM! dazai are seventeen, SFW, mentions of a former abusive relationship, mentions of suicide (it’s fucking dazai), happy ending.

Assistants were something he never cared for much.

They came and go, either requesting to work for a different department in the Port Mafia after witnessing his peculiarities or dying. He hadn’t ever formed any bonds with them. Hell, he hardly knew their names. Dazai preferred to give them childish nicknames such as ‘four-eyes’ for the ones with glasses or ‘baldy’ for the ones who had barely began balding.

No use in actually getting to know them.

All they were good for anyway was organizing his work and making a schedule of meetings and pointless missions he’d hardly follow. And what could they do? Nothing.

Once, he had attempted to get Ango to apply for the job during an outing at Bar Lupin, but that four-eyes declined. So did Oda. Geez, his friends lacked faith in him. Dazai wasn’t that bad of a boss. His subordinates didn’t die that often compared to the others.

Then again, his most recent assistant had died via overdosing. Straight from the Port Mafia’s warehouses, too. Dying of his own stupidity because karma struck him down. The high may have been sending him to the clouds, but he got too close to the sun just as Icarus did and burned—or in this case, vomited—to death. Fun.

A replacement would be needed, yes, but that would involve looking through so many applications and that was boring compared to strangling himself or pulling Chuuya’s hair when the redhead was speaking with Kouyou.

He’d pick irritating the slug over paperwork any day. At least one was fun.

So he just had Mori pick one out. As long as they wouldn’t be a nuisance and knew their place, he didn’t care who it was. Boy, girl, whatever. All ages welcomed. Dazai preferred younger though. The old farts were annoying and so utterly dumb! So when a subordinate gave him a file for his new assistant, he didn’t think anything of it. He always got those for record keeping.

Although this particular individual piqued his interest as his eyes gazed over the information attached.

The age was young—seventeen, same as him. A girl. According to the report, you were previously stationed as a secretary for some lower ranking member. And you’d just joined, too. Only a few blissful months ago. Just barely a baby in the crime world. All dewy-eyed and truly unknowing of the dark underbelly of Yokohama.

Most interesting, though, and the thing that struck his curiosity was the fact that a small sticky note was attached to the last page.

‘Single mother of eight month old girl’

There weren’t many parents in the Mafia, much less teenage ones. Nobody had time to have a baby with the lack of safety. But you did. Someone desperate enough to provide for their child to the point where they joined an illegal organization without even being an adult yet. That took will and selflessness. Something he lacked.

And without having even met you yet, Dazai found himself fascinated by you.

Murmuring your name to himself, he found himself a bit startled at how smooth it rolled off his tongue. He liked it, too. Your name was nice to say.

Tossing the file onto his desk carelessly, Dazai tapped his fingers on the desk, mind wandering once more. If you had a child then you’d probably work your best to support them. You’d be competent enough for him.

Apparently competent enough to the point where you felt like you could handle bringing the baby to the Mafia HQ.

“I don’t remember hiring two assistants.”

Dazai’s voice came out as slightly amused and startled. There you were, standing in-front of his desk while occasionally shushing your…daughter? It looked like a girl, anyway.

“Sorry- her sitter wasn’t available and I-“

His eyes stared at your reddening cheeks—embarrassment and shame, he could tell—as you spoke again.

“I don’t really have anyone to watch her. I’m so sorry, sir.”

Sir? You called him sir? That made him wave his hand a bit dismissively. The only people who called him ‘sir’ were the random grunts and gunmen that served under him. Or people who were scared shitless of him.

“Dazai. Not sir.”

Sitting up languidly, his uncovered eye focused on the baby. Curls of dark hair fell over her forehead while her tiny hands grabbed at your shirt and hair. Funny, he thought.

“And the baby can stay.”

She reminded him of some of the orphans Oda took care of. Especially Sakura. Maybe they had the same name, too. Unlikely, though. She didn’t look like a Sakura, really.

Picking up a pen, he pointed it at you, a small smile on her face.

“Speaking of, may I know her mother’s name?”

He knew it already. But it felt more right if he convinced himself you told him.

“Oh! Yes, uhm, I’m (L/N) (Y/N). And her name,” Tapping your baby’s forehead, she released a small coo, giggling slightly. “is (L/N) Yukirou.”

“Winter baby, huh. I’ll guess, December 16th?”

This was so much fun for him so far. Maybe Yukirou really could be his second assistant. As a joke, of course.

Nodding, you began to ramble on about the baby as he relaxed back in his chair, spinning around and making funny faces at Yukirou. The small child giggled and outreached her fingers to him, probably infatuated by his bandages and messy hair. He didn’t touch her, though. No need to let such a good small thing interact with a person like him.

And so minutes went by. Technically, he should’ve been doling out tasks and trying to kill himself again—he had heard of a technique where one could inject apple juice into their neck and die, but he wasn’t sure it’d work—but it slipped out of his grasp. Maybe it was the fact you two were so close in age. The fact that in another universe you could’ve been classmates fueled this moment. Dazai didn’t really know people his age other than Chuuya, but Chuuya was Chuuya. You were new.

New to everything in this line of business. The killing, the release of morals. Then again, you were just an assistant. You’d never directly be involved with that. Just helping him out with whatever was needed.

Dazai thought that was a smart choice, whether or not you intended for it to be. As an assistant, you’d be safe from the gunfire and outermost threats. More likely to live and protect your daughter.

So caring in a line of work where lives were dispensable.

He wondered how you got there. Not to the Port Mafia—the file told him. But how you took on such a frowned upon job to solely provide for your child. Was the father a deadbeat? Or actually dead? His father was the same. Dead five years into Dazai’s life.

His mother tried her best, but she died too and he slipped onto Mori’s grasp. Hopefully your baby wouldn’t end up in the same situation.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by one of his men who dropped off a load of documents, side-eyeing you before leaving.

Dazai wished you hadn’t turned the conversation back to work.

“Sir, sorry- Dazai-san, would you like me to organize the papers..?”

Why did he forget that you were just an assistant of his? The medication must be making his mind woozy again.

“By date and incident, yep. Also, if you see any that mentioned a Chuuya, please throw them out. Or burn them. Preferably the burning part.”

His office was always to be kept rid of that ginger.

“On it.”

And so he doodled a noose on the wood of his desk while you slowly put the papers away. It soon became clear to him that Yukirou was making the job a tad difficult by trying to grab at the papers.

A slight idea of letting her crawl loose in Mori’s office and destroying it entered his mind, but it quickly left.

“Y’know, if she’s being a devil, I can play with her for a bit. I swear I’ll be good!”

The words left him before he could really process them. Next thing he knew he was wearing the baby carrier with tiny fingers pulling at his shirt. Instructions poured from your lips as he nodded and patted the baby’s back.

“I’ll kill you if anything goes wrong.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of that. You? Kill him? Never going to happen. Unless it were a double suicide, but you probably wouldn’t say yes.

And he replied when the slight fear in your eyes registered after remembering that he was your boss in the Mafia.

“If course, cutie. I give you permission to kill me if theoretically anything goes wrong.”

Dazai made sure to sneak a peek at your reddening cheeks before leaving his office with the baby strapped to his chest and tugging at his bandages like a little snake.

That’s how it all started. A boy and a girl who happened to have a baby.

He’d never regret how months went by as you two became closer and closer. Joking around, complaining about work, all the stuff friends did. Hell, Dazai even watched Yukirou sometimes.

Thank god Chuuya wasn’t there to see him watching children’s cartoons on your couch with a baby in his lap and a stuffed animal in the other.

Or how he insisted on covering some of your rent when you were struggling. Yukirou needs a home, after all. He sees himself in her a bit. And he didn’t want her to turn out like him. If he couldn’t change his own life for the better, he’d change hers.

And yours.

Much better than that dickhead that fathered Yukirou. You told Dazai about it one night when he stayed over after babysitting once more. Yukirou was napping in her nursery, and you two were sitting on the couch just talking.

Talking turned into sharing details of your lives, and he came up. Your old flame who ditched you. Breaking a promise that he’d be there for the baby and you. Dazai was silent all throughout it. Quiet when you spoke of the emotional abuse and stress that you had, quiet when you began crying over the fact you never got to graduate high school.

He was just there, daring to awkwardly rub your back as you vented. He wondered if you had talked about it before. Probably not.

Dazai felt like he too needed to share a story of his childhood too in exchange for yours. So he told you about the poor neighborhood he grew up in and the horrors he saw daily.

Did it lessen the impact of your venting? Most likely, but in his opinion, he was trying to show you that he trusted you now too. He assumed it worked when you fell asleep on his shoulder. He took care of Yukirou when she woke crying an hour later. He would’ve been a much better father than that bastard.

It didn’t help either that Yukirou began to see him as her daddy. He was there when she turned a year old, gifting her all sorts of things. Scolding her when she nibbled on his hands. Doing nearly everything a dad would.

Even when she managed to say ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ for the first time, it was when all three of you were in the room together. In her tiny mind, it was her family. Her mama and Dazai—her papa. Oda congratulated him for becoming a father when you came along one day with him to Bar Lupin.

It didn’t live up to Chuuya’s reaction when he first heard one of his guys call Dazai a doting father. The shortstack had gone up to him asking if he really was Yukirou’s dad—rumors went around at HQ quickly—and Dazai had to sadly reply that he wasn’t. Sometimes he wished he was. Months of time with you led to nights in bed where he dreamed of a universe that he was really the dad. That Yukirou had his brown eyes instead of her dad’s blue ones.

It wasn’t fair.

Nor were his growing feelings.

Dazai was smart. A genius thinker and planner. So of course he noticed how his heart began to rapidly beat around you. The sweating of his usually cold hands.

He’d had crushes in the past, sure. But it didn’t equate to this. Such a strong connection only made it worse. Was it wrong his Google history lately was filled with questions about confessing to and dating a single mom?

Did you even like him back?

That question couldn’t be answered by anyone but you. It scared him. You probably didn’t. Not as more than a brother, anyway. His suicidal ideation and tendencies scared off any woman who wanted more than sex. But he probably wouldn’t be living long anyway. So he’d have to shoot his shot eventually.

Which he did after another five months of consideration and thought. Dazai committed this act by simply asking you to sort out some notes for him. A total of eight. Each one had a single word on it. If you correctly put them together, it spelled:

‘I like you. Do you like me back?’

Much to his relief and shock, you did. You did, and he had hugged you so tightly. Tightening their bond, too.

So he became your boyfriend. And he wore the title of ‘dad’ to Yukirou gladly. The little girl saw him as her papa, and he couldn’t deny it. Even if it wasn’t biologically, she was his. And yours.

Dazai’s life used to be mundane and slow, yet with his new…family, he felt genuine happiness for once. A reason to live.

That was the greatest gift he could receive of all.

Regular Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts.

Tags for everyone who interacted with this post (it’s over 100): @walking-simp, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @heartsfourdazai, @cheriiyaya, @depressed-monarch, @nyxt0t, @baby-tini, @h0nk3rs, @internet-angell, @cupidszvlvr, @owosamu, @my-dear-melancholy, @dazaibae, @nekomafumafufan18-blog, @cvsmois, @lizsano, @nanamiinto, @inojuuy, @reomarys, @mayanakahara, @briiscoolig, @maislovebot, @syona-sachyo, @xieqq2, @angelof-darkness, @moriiko, @fuckthisfuckingshit, @daushu, @wrynue, @amnda-ft-fyodor, @rain-alucard, @hanayoshiii, @moemoekunn, @thatwasa, @miiiloo, @probablyzombiedinosaurs, @mauviese, @chips-and-vinegar, @https-dazai, @rragudoru, @leyla3x0, @cheetozai, @jillyfsh, @rylerboi, @linaaeatsfamilies, @zorizoras, @onlinewhisper14, @komicoral, @anim3-simps, @theoddsinner, @caayye, @scaramow, @such-a-silly-little-gy, @bunnybs-stuff, @psychiclovecollective, @sleepy-yumi516, @fromjas, @suzurans-world, @mrstengenuzui, @mitislm, @tealover111, @edgarallanpoeswifey, @baby-tini, @yaz4luvv, @deliciouscandysalad, @isrealityevenreal, @briefcreationcandy, @astr3eaa, @underscoredaniii, @nolongerhooman, @notalooo, @ratinawetsocksweater, @tomiroro,

Rest in comments I’m crying now also if your tag is white it’s because you didn’t pop up when I was doing the @‘s

#bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #aspiring writer #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuunai #fanfic #fem reader #pm dazai #dazaibsd #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #fluff #bsd fluff #bsd tag #bsd #okay it’s lowkey shorter also might update later when I’m not about to pass out

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yuri-is-online · 11 days

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ruggie to (unknowingly) his kid: imma flirt with your mom and potentially erase your existence, sorry not sorry

*cracks knuckles* nothing but the best for my favorite hyena.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here.

The entire Yutu situation gives Leona a headache. He sees the portal, takes a sniff, rolls his eyes, and goes looking for the only hyena he (or to be more accurate Yuu) knows. He doesn't outright say “congratulations you're a dad” because he doesn't know if that would be too much to believe but Ruggie takes the whole "time traveler related to Yuu" idea fairly well. I mean, Yuu’s from another world and Ruggie was pretty convinced that was impossible until . What bothers him is Leona's saying Yutu is a beastman. That can only really mean one thing, but Ruggie doesn't want to bug Leona for any more details because what if his first thought is wrong and all his hopes are crushed? I mean he never said that Yutu was Yuu's kid... just that they are related. Maybe it's an ancestry thing and he can just adjust the streams a bit?

Meanwhile Yutu is thrilled to see what a great partner to his parent his dad is. It makes him feel very warm and safe, something Yutu hasn't felt in a very long time.

Ruggie! Yutu is a bit oblivious to certain things. He tries to socialize with people, really he does but things always just sort of come out wrong and leave him upset, lonely, and embarrassed. He doesn't have Ruggie's charisma or ability to schmooze, but he does have his laugh. Something that endears him to Yuu which is all he really cares about at the end of the day. Hyenas tend to be more solitary and stick to their clans/family units, and while he might not have his ears and tail in your world he still has his instincts.

Yuu remembers Ruggie as someone who took care of them and took a great deal of pride in that. They tell him about how Yutu shares his laugh, and how they know in their soul he would have loved Yutu to bits. Ruggie has a voice line about how he used to make flower crowns for the neighborhood kids back home, and I can see him teaching Yuu how he made them when they were preparing for Yutu so they "could make some for the kid when they get here." Yuu might not remember that's why they know how to make the little crowns Yutu loves so much, but it makes them nostalgic to watch their little dandelion prince run around their backyard in his crown.

Dandelions are his favorite flower from how often Yuu uses them to make flower crowns, and he quite likes making wishes on them. When he was a child he used to bring them up to Yuu and insist on them making wishes too, he never told them but he was convinced that one day Yuu's memory loss and pain would go away if they just kept wishing on them. He still makes wishes on them sometimes, but he feels very silly about it now.

He likes being useful, especially to Yuu, and is surprisingly good at negotiating for someone who isn't as unflappable as his dad. People tend to think he comes off as a bit stupid, so they're very blindsided when he knows all his figures and what to charge for his work. He doesn't fully realize this which tends to annoy people, which he does pick up on but he's too stubborn to let that affect negotiations. He needs that money more than whoever is dunking on him.

What does he use that money for? Well he wants Yuu to use it on bills, but you keep saying no so he spends it on fabric and yarn. If he's going to spend so much time alone he might as well be able to clothe himself. And you always praised him when he made you something new. Like I said, he wants to be useful.

As described here upon being transported to Twisted Wonderland, Ruggie! Yutu found himself transformed into a hyena beastman. His hearing is overwhelmingly sensitive, Crewel has to speak to him in whispers for the first few weeks, and still finds himself doing it sometimes. Losing Yuu clearly struck a massive blow to Yutu's sense of self, and now Crewel has to tell him about what happened to his dad.

Yutu really likes the idea that the dead in Twisted Wonderland become stars. He starts stargazing to cope with missing his parents, even picking out where in the sky he thinks you and Ruggie are watching over him. It evolves into an interest in stargazing that he keeps up when he travels back in time.

Now Ruggie. Ruggie. When Yutu meets him he's surprised at how accurate Yuu's memories of him were. He loves showing off how good he would be at taking care of Yuu while providing them the room to take care of themselves too. Ruggie has so much respect for what Yuu can do without magic it makes Yutu a bit teary eyed, he had always worried about Yuu feeling alone in Twisted Wonderland since he knows first hand mages can be very judgemental so seeing one not like that-

"Well it's just nice to see." His father can't see it but his tail his wagging underneath his hoodie. For some reason, Ruggie doesn't seem proud of himself though, he's just staring at the ground long and hard like he's thinking about something.

"Are you sure you should be thanking me?" Yutu thinks that Ruggie sounds sad, and he's instantly worried that he's said something wrong somehow but has no idea what it could be or how to explain himself if he had.

"Um- is is there a reason I shouldn't?" Please don't make him guess that's his least favorite game and he always fails-

"Well I mean I'm flirting with your parent ain't I? That could potentially erase your existence." Ruggie is so serious about it that it shocks Yutu out of his spiral.

"Oh. I don't think that will be an issue."

Listen the instant Ruggie learns he can flirt with Yuu to his hearts content without causing timeline issues he gets three times as "insufferable" (Yutu thinks it's cute) with how direct he is to Yuu. He's still more reserved than some of the other boys, he wants you to make the first move, but he's happy that he wasn't misinterpreting your relationship up to this point. Really happy.

He is significantly LESS happy with what Yutu tells him about the future. Ruggie was raised by his grandma and while he loves her to death the last thing he ever wanted for his child was to A) have to struggle like he did and B) have to struggle alone. Don't get him wrong, he trusts Yuu to have given Yutu the best childhood possible given their circumstances but those circumstances never should have existed. It's literally the one thing he has been working for all this time and vowed never to accept failure for.

Very worried about Yutu's health now that he knows he's been a Hyena beastmen all this time under that hood. He uses his new found freedom to take up Yuu's time to keep them away from Ramshackle (until Yutu is ready to tell Yuu) so Yutu can have a bit more time to relax outside of his disguise. he's very impressed by Yutu's sewing skills and takes the time to teach him how to alter his clothes to be more friendly to his tail and ears.

From the bit of reading I did on Hyenas, and some of Ruggie's voice lines, bringing back food for the cubs is very important to them so Ruggie starts being very concerned about seeing Yutu eat enough. He won't even charge for it if he thinks his kid didn't get enough to eat, Rugginald is going to find that boy a sandwich if it's the last thing he does (but not really he's not going to die on Yutu again.)

Surprisingly, Ruggie is more than fine with Yutu's lack of charisma and social awkwardness. It takes all sorts of peoples to make the world go round and Yutu clearly has a good head for figures and a strong work ethic. He knows what his weakness are and he tries to make up for them, what else could a survival minded guy like Ruggie ask for? (One of those sweaters he made Yuu, a matching one preferably he wants to take holiday pictures he's heard rich people do that.)

Ruggie is another one who has no idea how to fix the future, but he's sure Leona will be willing to make it his problem if he learns just how much more work is waiting for him in the future if he doesn't stop things now. In the meantime he tries not to think about the death that could be awaiting him in favor of working to maintain what he has now, and that's you, your not cat, and your star gazing son from the future. Ruggie's never been one to take stock in the idea that a person can be poor in wealth but rich in friends, but damn if he doesn't feel like it every time Yutu asks him to show him something new.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #ruggie bucchi x yuu #future kid au

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peppered-moths · 1 year

Text

this is not about revenge (or what i felt before)

"You won, right?" The sound of Martyn's voice seemingly jerks Scott awake. Martyn hadn't even noticed, caught up in his own thoughts. He mouths 'sorry' and intends to leave it at that, settling back against the hard stone wall. They had to sleep sometimes, and Martyn had graciously volunteered to watch Scott's back while he slept. It... had been a long day.

Scott sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He doesn't make any motion to go back to sleep, and instead eyes him. His expression is unreadable.

"Yeah? I- I mean, you were there, right? Watched me get struck down, all that?" He waves a hand in the air aimlessly.

"I just- I want to know what it's like." Martyn says softly. The whispers still ring in his ears. He wonders, if he won, if they'd stop.

Scott frowns down at him, one newly sprouted yellow fin flicking. "Seriously, Martyn, what's this about? You can't be that confident already- you were just talking earlier about how bad your armor was."

He hesitates. How does he explain it? Explain Them?

"Just- did you see anything? Afterwards."

Scott's expression freezes, stuck between shock and confusion and a little bit of fear-

"You have!" Martyn shoots up, ignoring protesting wounds. He reaches over, takes Scott's hands. "You saw Them, didn't you?"

"I- don't- how did you- how did you know?" Scott sucks in a sharp breath, mouth tugged downwards. "Grian said. He said- it was only supposed to be the winners." Huh. That makes... a surprising amount of sense.

"I hear them," he breathes, locking eyes with Scott. "I always hear them. It's... quiet, usually, but sometimes-" He swallows, looks down. "I heard them after you died." After I killed you.

"Okay." Scott nods, forced calm on his face. "I'll pretend like that's completely normal and not at all worrying." His voice pitches upward as he speaks. "Um. Do I need to be worried?"

Well, I think They told me to kill you. And I don't think last time counts.

"No," he says instead. "Not really. It was just... indecipherable nonsense. As usual." Scott's still tense, but his hands relax slightly in Martyn's grip, and he feels slightly bad for lying. And then he realizes he's holding Scott's hands, and immediately lets go.

Scott blinks at him as he steps away, and then down at his own hands, dotted here and there with dark blue scales. He doesn't seem notice how flustered Martyn is all of a sudden, and he thanks any gods but his own for that. He's not sure why he's flustered in the first place, because that's something to unpack another day!

"I don't think I've said thank you yet." Martyn's eyes snap back to Scott. "For killing me," the other man clarifies, which is... something Martyn hasn't heard in a while.

"Well. It wasn't like I was having a lot of fun either."

"Mmm." Scott's only half-listening, he can tell, clearly turning something over in his mind. He waits patiently.

"You- hm. You don't do that very often." Scott looks at him directly, and for a moment all Martyn can imagine is a red brand across his throat. It's a stupid idea, of course. He had stabbed him through the heart.

"No," he agrees. "I don't." Suddenly all he can think about is how alone they are, in their threadbare cave under the ocean. How suddenly vulnerable this feels. He hasn't- he doesn't-

"I guess I'm trying to ask if it means something," Scott says carefully, watching Martyn like he's about to run, "or if I'm reading too far into it."

And that sends Martyn reeling. All he can do is stare at Scott, mind scrambling to form something cohesive.

In the end, all he can get out is "What about Jimmy?"

Scott's face twists sharply, a wave of emotions playing over his features, and Martyn knows he's said the wrong thing. But Scott just clasps his hands in his lap, twisting them tightly together, and looks back up at him.

"What about him?"

"Well- aren't you two..." Fated. Destined. Martyn waves his hand to illustrate his point.

"You didn't see his face today," Scott whispers after a moment, voice cracking for a moment. "When he was chasing me. It was- that was hunger, Martyn. He was going to do anything to kill me. I-" Scott stops. Takes a deep breath. "He wasn't- isn't the same Jimmy I fell in love with."

Martyn sits next to him on the bed, hands awkwardly hovering close to the other. Scott seems like he's about to cry. He looks at Martyn again, something simultaneously piercing and vulnerable.

"You're avoiding the question."

"What?"

Scott scrubs a hand over his head, messing up his already rumpled hair. "I asked if it meant something." Martyn is silent again; not struck-dumb silence, but instead reaching for an answer he isn't sure he knows.

"I remind you of him." Everything reminds me of him. It's still not an answer. Ren had been the world, and then, just like that, he wasn't. It still aches.

"That's not fair. To you." he finally murmurs. Scott just looks at him with clear yellow eyes. He wonders what red will look like on him.

"No, it's not," he agrees. "It's not fair for you to pretend I'm Ren. But that's not what I'm asking." He shifts closer, gesturing for Martyn to turn so they're both facing each other. "I'm asking if it meant something. Beyond Ren, beyond Red Winter, beyond Third Life."

Martyn sits there. He remembers sinking his sword between Scott's fourth and fifth ribs. His first thought had been you're safe now. Like it was nothing. Like he's ever been able to keep anyone safe.

Scott must see the struggle in his face. He takes one of Martyn's hands, squeezing it in his own. It feels... safe.

"It's- just- I- don't you ever believe in fate? Destiny, soulmates, whatever you want to call it."

Scott turns his head, considering. "Well, we've already tried the soulmate thing, and look at how that ended." The small smile fades from his lips. "I think if I'm destined to be with Jimmy, I wouldn't feel the way I do about him. I wouldn't feel the way I feel about you."

That makes Martyn flush, turning his face surreptitiously away so Scott can't see it. "I wish I could escape fate," he admits. "But I hear Them every time. It's- it's like They know, every single time. Like it's predestined."

"Well, try doing something They'd never expect," Scott suggests, half-jokingly. It actually makes him laugh.

"Yeah? What do you propose?" Scott's mouth curves in a wicked smile, and he leans closer to Martyn, until they're almost nose to nose.

"Well," he murmurs, sing-song. He places one hand on Martyn's cheek. "I was thinking something like this." He leans in closer, slowly, giving Martyn plenty of time to back off, to say no thanks if he wants to. He doesn't take the opportunity.

He meets Scott right in the middle. The kiss is driving, fierce. It's nothing like the way Ren used to kiss Martyn, like he was fragile, something easily broken, needing to be protected. He doesn't really want Scott to kiss like Ren anyways, he realizes.

They break apart after a moment, Martyn half-dazed. Scott runs a finger over his bottom lip absently, and he can't help but trace it with his eyes. Scott catches him in the act, raising an eyebrow.

"Did that feel fated?"

"I'm not sure," Martyn breathes. "I think I'd have to try again."

#majorwood #limited life smp #limited life spoilers #inthelittlewood #smajor1995 #trafficshipping #traffic smp #did they fix their problems? nope!#will kissing help? definitely not!#are they going to do it anyways? YEP!#title is from this is love by the hunts btw

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thenanbakacorner · 1 year

Note

Can I ask Hajime, Enki and Kenshirou's reactions to their partner (fem Reader) trying to break up with them because they've been ignoring her for too long? Like they didn't spend time with her anymore or they told her to leave them alone every time she tried to be around them. With a little fluff or NSFW at the end? (Sorry for asking so many times, I love your writing.)

Ooh, interesting idea o7o Sure thing, and it's okay! Thank you so much!!

* * *

🦍 Hajime 🦍

Hajime's initial reaction was confusion, asking what you meant and what the fuck you were on about-- almost like he thought you weren't being serious

Then he sees the look in your eyes that he knew spelled "I'm being dead serious", and he puts both his hands on your shoulders, demanding an explanation

When you explain why, he suddenly feels like a moron. Right. He had been so busy, he barely paid attention to you, constantly shooing you off when you interrupted his work

He supposed your anger made sense. In hindsight, it was wrong to give you, his girlfriend, such little attention

He assures you he was just busy, that he does want to spend time with you, and that whatever he had to do to make it up to you, he would do it in a heartbeat

Does his best to be there for you more often despite his packed workload, and when alone at his or your house, he spends lots of time cuddling and loving on you to make up for lost time

Also decides to treat you to a fancy restaurant date as an apology for being so stupid once he gets the time and extra funds for it

🗻 Enki 🗻

Upon telling Enki that you want to break up, he's quick to ask you why, a serious look on his face

He didn't think there were any problems in your relationship, so you telling him you wanted to cut off what you had struck him as alarming

Then the explanation, and Enki sighs heavily. Of course that would be the reason

Puts a hand on your shoulder and explains that he is just a very busy man. Just because he doesn't have much time to spend with you doesn't mean he doesn't love you, or not want to spend time with you

He then uses a hand to cup your chin and lift it to look directly at him, promising to make things up to you and that he'd try to make more time for you

He holds true to his word, and spends significantly more time with you, as well as treating you to something he knows you'd like to make up for his absense and the stress he caused

He isn't much of a cuddler, but after what he did, he decides, yes, some cuddles are well needed

🐕 Kenshirou 🐕

Kenshirou is stunned when you tell him you want to break up, and he grabs both your hands in his own, pleadingly asking why you would want such a thing

He finds your reasoning to be acceptable— he had been so distant from you with how busy he had been as of late, and he felt terrible as it dawned on him how little time he’d spent with you

He leans to kiss the back of your hands, profusely apologizing for causing you such feelings and asking you to, please, change your mind, assuring he can make up for it and do better

If you continue to make a point that you want to end it, he’ll end up on his knees begging you otherwise— he doesn’t want to lose you over this

Despite his workload, he spends lots more time by your side and doing things with you to make up for everything, and takes you on several dates to apologize

Lots of kisses when it’s just you two alone and quiet promises to never leave you hanging so long again

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mavrintarou · 2 years

Text

[12:32 PM] - Haitini Ran [2]

This is the hardest writer's block ever. Like I have it all there... just can't get it down. Please be patient with me. I'm working on the other HQ stuff - I promise. Just need to get Ran outta my head. Warning: Explicit smut; 18+; Ran is totally whooped

First part

It’s been a whole week since Ran woke up hours later to Y/n still in his bed, in his arms, and buried deep inside her.

He didn’t want to leave, but unfortunately, work called for him.

He woke her up to promise he would be back, and it was difficult for him to leave when she was so adorable and half-awake.

“Come here,” she mumbled, and he moved closer. Her fingers snake into his neatly combed hair, and she pulls him closer to her lips, pecking his lips once. “Be safe.”

The entire week, all that was on his mind were her words that struck something inside him.

“Would it be so bad if I was to get pregnant, though?”

Ran buried himself inside her three more times that first initial night, once in the shower, in bed, and the morning before leaving. After the little oops, they agreed to disregard the condom since she would take the pill the following day.

He knew he shouldn’t take her word for it; he feared a few things in his life, and getting a woman accidentally pregnant was one of them.

But that didn’t stop him from cumming inside her the rest of the time.

But Y/n answered him with a video recording of herself taking the pill.

”Just in case you needed proof that I did take the pill.” The camera flips around to her, and she smiles brightly before ending the video.

He returned as soon as possible and found her reading quietly in the library. He sat across from her, making small talk because… he didn’t know what else to say.

Other than that, he wanted to fuck her again. And again. And again.

He never had any problems initiating it, but with Y/n… he felt like an awkward, shy schoolboy with puppy eyes, anxiously waiting for her to give him the green light.

His stupid leg wouldn’t stop shaking; he was dying just for her to give him a sign… any sign that they could continue what they started the night before.

“What’s wrong, Ran?” Her voice was teasing, almost as if she knew the reason behind his restlessness.

His boldness switched over, and he let out a frustrated chuckle before leaning back to show her what was bothering him. The tent between his crotch was prominent; she couldn’t miss what was clearly wrong with him.

She bookmarked her page and stood up, holding his hand out. “Manjiro would be upset if we had some fun in here.”

Ran stands at the end of the bed after discarding the third condom and stares at Y/n’s naked backside, who is clearly fucked out on his bed.

Grabbing the comforters they had kicked off, he pulled it over her body and settled beside her. Pushing her messy, fanned-out hair aside, “I…” he kisses her nape, “I gotta be on my turf for a few days. So,” he paused, lips pressing against her skin, “will you come with me and stay at my place?”

She shuffled around until she faced him, her fingers tracing his sharp jaw. He groans when her thumb pad grazes against the Bonten tattoo on his throat. He noticed she touched it often. “Manjiro is going to be home the next couple of days… I don’t think I’m ready to tell him what we’re doing yet.” She looks into his eyes, “I’m not sure how he will take it.” She brushed his hair out of his eyes, “last time, he was going to punch you.”

. .

Ran’s life has shifted more than 360 degrees since meeting Y/n.

He was totally whooped.

Pussy whooped.

Smile whopped.

Touched whooped.

Just Y/n whooped.

And he didn’t care.

But unfortunately, he had to.

He was responsible for bringing Rindou to the house for his surprise birthday party Y/n had planned. His younger brother had no idea and entered the house only to be surprised by the decoration and the confetti shot at him.

He nearly pulled out his gun at everyone.

“Happy birthday Rindou!” Y/n shouts with a big bright smile.

Ran looks at his brother; he can’t remember the last time Rindou had a birthday party…

That didn’t involve strippers.

Y/n had wanted to throw him a party, spending time with decoration, food, and a cake.

Ran leaned on the counter as Y/n placed the candles on the cake. “Thank you.”

This was the closest he could get to her without blowing their cover.

She looks at him, confused, before looking away before anyone can catch their lingering gaze. “For what?”

“Throwing this for Rin.” He twirls a finger, gesturing to the decorated place, food, and cake. “This is his first birthday party without getting shitfaced.”

Looking towards the dining table, Rindou was chatting more than usual with the other executives and not talking about gangs and work for the first time.

“Everyone should celebrate their birthdays, no matter how old you are.” She said, focusing on placing thirty-four candles on the cake. Very quietly, she whispers, “you’re staring, Ran.”

He breaks out of his trance and walks over to the fridge, pretending to look inside.

“Okay, it’s ready!” Y/n announces, holding the cake with the lit candles. She turns around to look at Ran, waiting for him to come over before saying, “in 3-2-1… happy birthday to you….”

. .

Ran lays in his bed, one arm behind his head and the other over his naked chest.

It has been over five minutes since he sent her a text message: is there no work around this promise of yours? I promise… just cuddles…

Did she fall asleep already?

He couldn’t wait to go to settle for the night so he could have his dose of her…

But everyone decided to fucken stay the night, and he promised Y/n and her ridiculous request that they are not allowed to do anything fun if there were others in the house.

Even if they’re the only two on the left-wing side.

His phone buzzed, and he quickly checked the message.

Cuddles, only?

His fingers never worked as fast, other than the times they were curled inside Y/n’s tight pussy.

Yes. Promise. Cuddles only.

The three little dots disappear on his screen as if she is writing something and then deleting it and repeating it.

Come over, or do you want me to come over?

Ran had never gotten out of bed so quickly, throwing his door open and rushing over. He barged into Y/n’s room to find her standing by her bed in a spaghetti-strap silk night dress.

Twisting the lock in place, he walks towards her, only wearing his boxers.

She turns her body towards him, fingers twisting the material. “What if… I want more than cuddles?”

Ran’s heart leaped, and so did his cock. His mouth curved into a teasing grin, “are you going to break your promise?”

She nods her head, a smile creeping on her lips.

He steps forward until he is standing in front of her, “well, who am I to deny you at all?” His finger hooks around her straps, tugging them off her shoulders until the thin materials pool at her feet. He nearly choked when his eyes lowered, noticing she wore no undergarments. “Fuck, you’re killing me already.”

“We’ll have to be quiet… nothing… rough….”

Tilting her chin upwards, he leans down to meet her lips. “Okay, quiet and… soft….”

Her mouth moves hungrily over his, “what are you doing to me, Ran?”

Ran picks her up easily and carries her onto her bed, setting her down and settling between her legs. “The real question is, what are you doing to me? I’m fucken whooped.”

He pulls his boxer briefs down and throws them off the bed. He strokes his erect cock with one hand and groans, “fuck, do you have condoms over here?”

The look on her face tells him no.

He was about to grab his boxer briefs again to run to his room when she halted him, “I’ve been on the pill for a week now… we should be safe without a condom… if you’re okay with it. Otherwise, you can… pull out.”

Ran practically went brain-dead, and his cock took over. He has been dying to fuck her raw again.

“Fuck pulling out…” he muttered, hovering over her. He leans down and kisses her, “no going back.” He guides the tip of his cock to her core and slowly pushes until his hips meet hers. “God, I miss you.”

Her eyes were shut, her mouth ajar, and heavy breath escaping. Her nose rubs his in a sweet, intimate gesture. “Ran… Ran, I missed you too.”

Ran rocks his hips in a slow, deep, quiet, and soft rhythm.

God, he was making love to her.

. .

Ran wakes up to kisses.

“Wake up; you should return to your room…” Her nose rubs his. “As much as I would love for you to stay here…”

“Fuck them.” He mutters, catching her jaw still so he can kiss her. “One more time?”

She half groans and moans, “Ran… I don’t think I can walk….”

He flips her onto her back, “soft and quiet…”

The knock at her door makes both of them freeze, “Y/n? Y/n, are you up?”

“Manjiro.”

“Mikey.”

They both whispered.

“Yes, I’m up.”

“I was wondering if you knew where Ran is. His door is open, but I don’t remember seeing him leave.”

Y/n looks at Ran, who shakes his head, “no, I don’t.”

“Okay, I gotta head out, so I’ll see you.”

“Okay, bye ‘Jiro!”

They both exhaled after ten seconds when they no longer heard the creak down the hall.

Y/n’s head falls back, and she lets out a laugh.

Ran collapsed on top of her, nuzzling against her neck. “That was close.” He rubs himself against her. “I’m going to have to go take a cold shower… If Mikey can’t find me, that means Rin can’t find me, too, and he’ll come to hunt me down soon.” He sat up on his knees, and he looked so tall just on his knees.

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she glances up at him and his hard cock before whispering, “I’ll be quick.”

His eyes bulge out when she reaches forward and starts stroking his cock in both hands. “Wait… let me sit down.” He collapsed, and his legs spread out before Y/n took a spot between his legs. His breath hitched before he could register; something warm swirls against the tip of his cock.

Ran’s head rolled back, and so did his eyes.

“Fuck,” he swore when she took part of his cock into her mouth, feeling the back of her throat. “Y/n…”

He looks down and brushes her hair out of the way. When she looked up at him with his cock still in her mouth, he nearly came.

His thumb brushed away the tear that escaped from the corner of her eye. “I’m close… I don’t want you to swallow.”

Y/n pulls away, stroking his cock, “you don’t want to cum in my mouth?”

“Oh, I do… but I rather cum inside you.” He swipes the corner of her mouth. “I very much love cumming inside of you." He guides her upward and onto her back. Spreading her legs, he guided his sensitive, ready-to-explode cock into her and groaned. Her walls squeeze around him, and he gives two long thrusts before he comes undone.

Y/n lets out a quiet whimper, thighs tensing around Ran.

He slides out after a minute. His thumb rubs her clit as he waits until the thick milky fluid seeps, “and I love watching it spill out.”

“You’re so nasty,” she giggles, “but I love it.”

. .

Another week of separation.

Ran found himself unable to return to the main house as a series of problems continued, one after another. However, his relationship with Y/n grew deeper with each passing day. The warm and tingling sensation inside, he couldn’t quite discern what it truly meant.

He eagerly anticipated Y/n’s morning and night texts, as well as the messages they exchanged throughout the day. His eyes were constantly glued to his phone, which started to bother Rindou. Any buzzing or notification sounded was invariably from Ran’s phone, much to Rindou’s growing annoyance.

“Are you seeing someone? You have a stupid look on your face.”

As much as he trusts his younger brother, Rindou has no idea about his relationship with Y/n.

“No one, don’t worry about it.”

He was glad that Rindou respected his boundaries regarding personal relationships, as he disliked it when Ran interfered in his affairs.

What are you doing now?

Looking at his watch, he couldn’t wait two more hours before he could leave and spend the next three days at the main house.

And bury himself inside of Y/n for the next 72 hours.

He hated this separation.

The communication may have increased, but it wasn’t enough.

Even over a video call.

Ran was never one to have phone sex, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He enjoyed knowing he was pushing Y/n to do things that made her fluster but knew deep down she found it sexy playing with herself over the camera just for him.

She loved his dirty talk.

His phone dinged.

A message from Y/n.

I’m having lunch with an old friend.

Something about that made Ran frown.

Oh, who is this?

Her response came through, and Ran’s jaw tightened.

Mitsuya Takashi, do you know him? He’s an old friend of Mikey.

. . .

If you're confused, this is the first part

E/N: I love you all. I'll be back.

>>> @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @eadyladlegard @wolffmaiden @satoritendoucultsacrifice @yourgonvermenthooker @littlemochi @cloud-lyy @pana-dolle @basmamme (I hope this tagged you) @haitanifxn @mfreedomstuff @itsroseally @warrior-of-justice @jmnfilter @captainchrisstan @louschan (I hope this tagged you) @wrongimagine

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earlgreytea68 · 4 months

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the way you write dialogue is so good, it seems so natural and accurate. especially with Pete and Patrick. could I maybe get some dialogue tips from you, just in general? it's something I struggle with. I always either make it too silly or quippy and I end up deleting it because it sounds stupid, or it's like every line is trying to be the most serious deep important thing on earth. idk where the balance is, it's hard for me but you do it so well.

Some of it is honestly just practice. Years and years and years of reading and then writing dialogue.

But some of it is finding your style of dialogue that works for you. I consider myself, chiefly, a writer of dialogue. I'm never going to be huge into descriptions. I can do them every once in a while, but they're not really my thing. And that's okay! I'm not upset about that! I lean into what feels natural to me. So, with dialogue, I think some of it is finding the dialogue style that feels like it works for you, that you're comfortable with, that doesn't feel like it's artificial. I look back now at stuff I wrote years ago and it feels like I was trying to copy other people, which is fine! But it took me a while to find my groove, to be okay with things like saying flat-out "he says" a bunch of times. A lot of writing advice will tell you not to use "said" more than twice a page or something like that and I decided I didn't like that advice, it didn't work for me. The characters are talking too rapid-fire for me to want you to worry overly much about what verb they're using to communication. I don't always use "says" but I don't freak out if I use it more often than someone else would have said to, because honestly it's only there to make sure you don't lose track of who's speaking where.

Also, I will sometimes try my dialogue out loud. Like, I'll write the scene by acting out the parts in the shower. This requires me to remember what I said, but as long as I've got the rough shape of it, I'm okay, and I think that exercise helps my dialogue feel more natural and back-and-forth. If you're worried about remembering it, you could maybe record yourself doing this.

You talk about striking the balance, and I was trying to think of advice for this, and I realized something: Sometimes my characters have extremely deep conversations. Those are usually the scenes I've planned for and I know are coming from a long way off. "There needs to be a huge declaration of love," or "they need to talk about this problem they're having." Those scenes are kind of like their own things, because they have a very specific goal of some deep communication that needs to happen. Those are very different from the connective tissue scenes that I write to get to those scenes. And, because I don't outline or heavily plan my fics, often I have no idea what's going to happen in any given scene. Like, I'll start writing a scene, like the scene I posted in the Christmas fic tonight, and all I need to happen in that scene is: Pete and Patrick pick out a Christmas tree. Now I could have just skipped that scene, like, what's really happening in that scene? Really not much of anything. But to me I don't skip those scenes because I think those scenes are the important scenes where you really get a feeling for the relationship between the characters, you get to see them interact. So, in THAT kind of scene, it's basically all quips and jokes. And when I run out of quips and jokes lol, then maybe there will be a serious moment of self-reflection in there.

Again, because I don't plan my fics out very much, oftentimes I just let the characters talk to each other until some kind of point emerges. This means I have to actively come up with things for them to talk about. Random things, not story point things. And, because of that, I think the dialogue naturally feels more spontaneous and unplanned and meandering, because that's how the scene is unfolding. So I guess I would say that the balance is struck by knowing what the scene needs to accomplish. If it's a light, frivolous scene, then I just let them go where they want to go. If it's an intense scene, I have more of an idea in mind, and so there's less brainstorming through the dialogue.

I have no idea if this is helpful!!!! Another thing I would recommend is to find a writer whose dialogue you really like and spend some time with it, thinking about what you like about it, why you like it, and how you could keep that in mind as you write. I tell this story a lot but the first piece of writing I ever saw by Aaron Sorkin was "The State Dinner," which is an episode of "The West Wing," and it, like, took the top of my head off, the way he was writing dialogue. I watched a lot of Aaron Sorkin throughout my twenties, anything and everything he did. (I still watch Sorkin's stuff, because I can't help it, he taught me a lot of what I know, and even though his style has become highly mockable, it was really formative for me.) Anyway, I used to spend a lot of time trying to think about what about his dialogue made me so impressed by it, and some of it was the speed, and some of it was how he wasn't afraid to make it repetitive and confusing and silly and pointless. I mean, it's not like real talking because nobody REALLY talks like an Aaron Sorkin character but it FELT like this approximation of reality that really appealed to me. I remember the first time I wrote a character say something like, "I don't want to turn into one of those couples who's all like, 'We can't do anything solo.'" My beta at the time circled it and was like, "This speech is too informal." Because way back when in the twentieth century, that was how we thought about dialogue, that it had to be this more formalized thing, cleaned up from how real-life speech is. Sorkin kind of taught me that it didn't have to be. (I'm sure other people could have. He happened to be who I found.) So I used to watch a lot of West Wing to get its rhythm in my head, and then I would write my own stories, and as I did that, I found I sounded more like Sorkin. That wasn't actually my goal, and I think I sound less like him now, twenty years down the line, but it WAS my goal to really hone in on my dialogue the way he had. It made me not afraid to tell a story mainly through its dialogue, where I had been before him. Idk. This turned into a whole Aaron Sorkin thing and I didn't mean it to be but it was a huge turning point in how I wrote and I think about it a lot hahahaha. ANYWAY. Yeah.

#writing #long post

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hmshermitcraft · 11 months

Note

Hello! I have a Tango x Bdubs headcanon scenario for the Enemies to Lovers theme!

Tango and Bdubs are a part of the Big Eyes Crew with Keralis but they’ve never really seen eye-to-eye a lot. Sure, the three are working together for mutual benefit but the two can’t reach that mindset yet with how much they verbally fight each other.

When they discuss, it always ends up very tense and argumentative, with Keralis having to mediate for his two friends frequently. Their arguments can go from simple and petty to fully blown debates full of bickering and snarls, like how Keralis would just want to discuss how the three can make more diamonds as a whole and then the others would have conflicting methods.

Keralis just wants a damn break, but he struck gold regarding the two. He realized from some outside source (by the names of Impulse and Scar) that the two are just like this because of their pining and suppressed emotions for each other. He thinks it’s funny and cute that the two haven’t worked out a way to come up with these feelings of his business partners but he will slowly but surely make sure to untangle their emotions and get them to make up. He’s going to play wingman for the two, in his own way.

-signing off, 💙 anon

He'd love to know where the two get the energy from to be snapping at each other so often. All of this pining could be used as much better elsewhere! Like making them diamonds, for example.

They're lucky that Keralis is so lovely, wonderful and patient. And that he's already established himself as a mediator. The two were too caught up in each other to realise how Keralis's questions have taken on a different tone. It's subtle - Keralis is capable of it - but now they're talking about why they feel this way about ideas. Though 'because he's a stupid head' isn't a great starting point, Keralis has been making progress!

And then Keralis gets sick.

He doesn't know where he catches it from, and his pollen allergies make it worse. He's practically bedridden. Which leaves Tango and Bdubs to take care of things in his absence - including Keralis himself.

They argue at first because of course they do, but when that ends up with Keralis missing a dose of medication they step up their game. They need to work together. Though they squabble, they're able to assign tasks between them to keep things running smoothly. After a few days, Tango lets Bdubs know that he's got held up and Bdubs fills in. Tango returns the favour to give Bdubs some free time.

And as they collapse after a long day, they're too target to argue about nothing. Half-awake conversations turn into half-awake flirting turn into half-awake cuddling.

It's not what Keralis expected to work - he'd had an entire plan set out! But, it's worked regardless. Now he has a new problem, they won't stop using their business meetings as foreplay!

#hermitshipping #ask #bdoubleo tag #keralis tag #tango tag #doubletek #suggestive tw #💙 anon #mod 🎀#weekly theme: enemies to lovers

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extra-vertebrae · 2 years

Note

Do you have any tips for designing monsters that are actually creepy and/or unique?

A good thing to do would be to familiarise yourself with design tropes, Anon! Nowadays popular design tropes are pretty easy to spot and follow, thanks both to the nature of the internet, and to increasing homogeneity in mainstream entertainment.

Learn about the Uncanny Valley and why it upsets us as much as it does. The Uncanny Valley provides an interesting and ready window of opportunity for tapping into baser repulsion without directly aiming for fear.

Learn about the basics and overall fundamentals of design, and cap off that knowledge with an understanding of anatomy and general biology. An effective design does not have to be anatomically "correct" or plausible, but it certainly helps in setting your design apart. In particular, understanding movement can elevate a design heads and shoulders above the rest alone, and can make a design creepier or more engaging than it would be as a simple visual. The Uncanny Valley also applies to movement - if something just misses the mark in how we recognise it as "supposed" to move, it triggers a distinct warning in us. Del Toro employed uncanny movement as a major design aspect to the monster in Mama, and it was very effective in elevating that design.

Try to avoid drool and an overabundance of teeth as your main selling point. I see this often and feel it needs a direct mention for those looking to design something effective. The failings of many designs that involve drool and teeth can be chalked to an artist only focusing on the face of the creature and not the rest of the body. If the face is the only part of a design where you were engaged, it is not a good design and people will see right through it. The face should support your design, not be the only aspect worth looking at. Teeth and drool by themselves do not an interesting creature make; being consumed is a common basal fear, but teeth are everywhere - make your teeth count and make sense.

Learn about fear - take some time to read about phobias, common causes of death, and what instills worry in the mind and hearts of people. A lot of small, unassuming things worry and disturb us, and these are very rich wells to draw from. This applies especially to designs that hinge their effectiveness on an idea or a presence rather than only their visual form. I would suggest you watch the 1982 film "Poltergeist" (not the remake) for an example. The presence within the home has no set form, and the scene where the presence is described by Tangina Barrons, the Medium character, is intensely effective. We never get to truly see what haunts the house, only what steps it takes and what illusions it conjures to keep the family apart.

Look at the work of as many artists as possible. The more designs you expose yourself to, the wider visual library of ideas and approaches you will have to pull from, mix, match, take apart, and re-render. The same goes for looking at real-life design - look at animals! Look at insects! Look at worms! The natural world holds design secrets that would be right at home in a science fiction novel. You will never see these animals referenced in mainstream media, because they are so unbelievable just by themselves.

Watch movies with effective creature designs in them, for the exact same reasons as above. As you watch, consider for yourself why those designs are effective to you, what was it about them that struck home? Was it a visual design aspect? Or was it something more nebulous - the concept or the action, rather than the design? Not all effective creature designs wear their effectiveness in the body, it's in the action, the sound, or the idea; or, even, the metaphor.

Keep the K.I.S.S. model - Keep It Simple, Stupid - in the back of your mind. A number of designs fail because they are cluttered and overwrought with unneeded and nonsensical details. Does attaching a bevy of blood bags to a creature truly make it more effective, or is it just noise?

As a final point: when designing, design for yourself. This is generally my personal route of design. I study and consider for myself first, and other people only when I'm paid to do so. I do this in part because the goal of my designs is to satiate something within me first - either to fulfill a personal definition of "functional", a personal definition of "beautiful", or a need to make myself uncomfortable. This personal lens is what gives my designs (as well as the designs of other artists) their specific flare.

I hope this answers your question, Anon!

#art talk #ask

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votaryoftheseven · 11 months

Text

Six hands were better than two or even four. Different parts of a new vestment were laid out over Hierei's tables, his brother assisting him by sitting in a chair, weaving bone over steel ball bearings.

It was like they were in the Dream, again. The pocket dimension of Nightmare that existed for a cult now long-gone. Working separate but in unison, with emotions not words, creating something holy.

Upton was in his own funk. Despair was strong in his body, a reverent gaze on the orbs as he worked. It was soothing. Both Hierei and Upton did well when doing something repetitive, especially when they were both feeling unwell.

They didn't speak. They didn't need to. The air between them was thick with emotion and Knowing. Just as it always had been. They knew from intent alone what the other was thinking; how they felt, what they wanted to say.

You're not usually like this.

It was the thought shared between them both. "Said" at the same time, a chord struck and it was the same key. Upton wasn't usually so melancholic. Hierei... well, he was often contritional, but he'd gotten better about it.

It will be alright, in the end.

They knew it was true. The grief Upton felt when his friend passed would fade, eventually replacing itself with a dull ache and understanding. Hierei would either get better and do better, or make more mistakes-- but he would move on, regardless. There was no way either brother could stop.

Upton looked up, setting the last of the bone-covered steel balls down into the little tin he'd been putting them in, finally breaking the silence. "Is this what you want to be doing?"

Hierei blinked, looking over. He didn't say it, but Upton knew. Would he be doing it if he didn't?

"You have no Pride in this. In your craftsmanship. You do this out of Fear. To protect yourself. It's a Fear display, to show others you're afraid." Upton frowned a little, looking to the robes.

The very idea of them was to weigh Hierei down. To bind his extra limbs. So he couldn't harm others. So he could consciously think about being better.

Hierei frowned, then, too. He wasn't Proud, no. He opened his mouth, prepared to say that he deserved this, to feel this way--

"You are not the man standing before me today you were yesterday. A year ago. Three years. A decade. You have changed so much, brother. You have learned from your mistakes, and changed for the better." Upton took some of the ball bearings, now wrapped in bone with small closed loops on top. Playing with them in his fingers.

"Then why do I keep making stupid mistakes?"

"Because you are mortal," Upton said, setting his free hand on one of Hierei's. "Because living is hard, and it's difficult to stay mindful."

Upton wove more bone between the bearings, showing Hierei a small, unfinished chord of them. Seven. "You don't need a Fear display. You need to take a moment, sometimes, and evaluate." He handed it up to the taller kaldorei.

Hierei ran his fingers over each of the bearings, now almost like heavy beads. Each one, each, when touched, felt of a different Sin, if only just. Prayer beads.

"I thought you said it was wrong to pray?"

"It isn't wrong to think before you act," Upton said. "And being mindful of the Sins doesn't mean you're praying to them." He smiled. "Something to keep with you, perhaps. If you must, then bring the outfit Aren made for you. Wear your vestments with the Pride of his craftsmanship keeping you safe, comforted, and warm."

Slowly, Hierei nodded, and he put the project away.

#;happenstance #;writings #;the stagehand

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scripted-downfall · 1 year

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Season 11 anon here, I saw your ask post and take all the time you need, I understand people have lives away from the keyboard. This should be my last attack of thoughts for a minute, I just finished the imaginary friend episode and need a break, but I have thoughts that tie into my morals/values theory. More specifically, how Sam's apology to Sully came after Weems called him out on breaking Sully's heart, so bring up thoughts of only after he's confronted with the shame/guilt associated with others knowing. But another thing that struck me (and personally, I think Dean would hate this take) is how similar Dean and Sully are in how they interact with Sam (and possibly in general). Such as, taking blame on things that are Sam's fault and excusing Sam's behavior. Sully is constantly checking in on Sam's emotional state, Dean checks in on Sam a lot, after Jess, when he was seeing Lucifer every where etc. Sully's willingness to die if its what is "best for" the child. I'm also having conflicting feelings about Reese just getting away with murder, like on one hand it's "monster" murder and technically killing monsters is a positive for hunters, but also calling Zanna "monsters" seems like a stretch and the lack of consequence made the episode feel unresolved. Final thought, Sam's lack of suspicion about these visions is ridiculously stupid for the "smart" one. He is always on hell's side, not always by choice but still. If the visions were from God or heaven, it makes more sense for them to reach out to Dean (the righteous man, they sieged hell for him, Michael's sword, etc) vs Sam (one of Azazel's "children", referred to by heaven as an abomination, Lucifer's vessel). But also we know (and I think they know) that Lucifer can speak from the cage, as he did to Azazel. I'm mean I could be wrong and Sam is finally on the side of good, but the amount of time he mentioned visons and Lucifer together at he end of the episode like that can't be for nothing.

Hello again! And thanks for the ask!

I do think that your point about Sully --- and, specifically, Sam apologizing to Sully only after Weems pointed out Sam's bad behavior --- is a good one. I remember having a similar feeling, honestly, when I first watched it. And it ties back into the idea that Sam needs someone to point out good vs bad because he doesn't quite... get that. He needs the judgement of others as a benchmark for how far he's overstepped, a lot of the time.

Also, to be honest, I feel like the fact that Dean wouldn't appreciate the comparison to Sully --- which I feel is very on point, just btw --- might actually make that connection more convincing. After all, there's the fact that it's often the actions we carry out ourselves that annoy us most in others; additionally, Sam's shown a trend of leaving Dean behind, so having someone who treats Sam similarly --- I point out the... what was it, marshmallow nachos? are very similar to the story Dean tells about marshmallow macaroni and cheese --- is much more concerning to him than it would be in other situations. But you're definitely right; the way Dean checks in the Sam is very similar to the way Sully stays in-tune with him, the sacrificial side of their interactions is unfortunately similar, etc.

I get what you're saying about the Zanna and lack of consequences too... Like, I know that the episode itself --- and most if not all of the characters --- sat firmly in the territory of "the Zanna might be supernatural but they're not evil, don't deserve death, etc.", but Reese mostly getting away fine is still a bit iffy, to me. It was kind of an episode about forgiveness, though, so I supposed that was the point?

I don't know, btw, whether they know that Lucifer was speaking to Azazel from within the cage --- I think that was a flashback that only we saw? but I could be wrong --- but, regardless, I definitely agree. I remember having the same thoughts when I watched, and this time I have proof! I've reblogged the initial post with additions twice, but the third one is from s12, so it's got spoilers; the second, though, was after s11e09, which, I can see from your new ask, you've seen... the post + first reblog can be found here :)

Thank you again for the ask; until next time!

#answered asks #scripted downfall asks answered #season 11 anon #i always come when you call (sd)#sam stans dni #anti sam #anti sam winchester #<<< creative tagging is gone as you can see

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mr-voorhees-husband · 2 years

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lots of love, cowboy anon, here with some more creep content

Being Chameleon’s assistant was a cushy job all things considered. You were paid handsomely to keep yourself clean and to spy on people; he even pays for a modest apartment for you to live in nearby his base of operations for convenience sake.

And considering all you need to do is listen to him, it seems an even trade off.

You follow his twelve step skin care routine three times daily (because it's easier to do make up when there’s no blemishes), you follow is strict diet plan and exercise routine (because fake pounds can always be added on), follow his sleep schedule (to always keep rested as to keep alert), you do everything he asks of you.

But this, this was the one thing for yourself. Your silly little… whatever it was you had with Montanta.

Despite you being the literal Creep, he hasn’t rejected or scorned you, in fact he’s encouraged your behavior towards him, which blew you away. It wasn’t often a man asks you to stalk him. But you do, in your spare time. Its almost like a game, you hunting him down and watching him from afar, waiting to see how long it takes from him to spot you if he spots you at all, following him with a stupid love struck expression on your face the whole time.

And afterwards he tricks you into some alleyway where he compliments you relentlessly and calls you sweet things like “sugar” and “darlin’' before you run away out of embarrassment.

You alway ran away.

You could tell it was getting to the cowboy; he’d fluctuate between hounding you out immediately and letting you stalk him for hours on end, and each time when he corners you, you could feel his growing frustrations about your cowardice. He’d be more aggressive with i=his intentions on bad days, almost treating you like a misbehaving child, and other days, softer days, he treats you as if you’re a spooked animal; all the while waiting for you to take the reins.

But it just wasn't in your nature to be brave. You were a coward, a creep; you hide in the shadows and take shaky pictures of your beloved and you can’t make eye contact with people and you're embarrassing and weird. Besides, you can’t do anything without Mr. Chameleon’s permission. You just can’t.

Eventually, Montana would see your worthlessness to him, move on to some other person to be the center of his affections and he can call them ‘darlin’ and ‘sugar’ (the thought burns your insides and make your eyes swell with unshed tears).

=-=

Montana had been dwelling on a few things the last few days. How exactly is he and the Enforcers gonna relieve an oil tycoon of his priceless doubloons he keeps on his private yacht; when is he going to get the chance to pick up his dry cleaning; and most importantly, when are you gonna give him to go ahead to be the main man of your life.

The cowboy knew there was a sense of professional courtesy at first; you were merely an assistant, not yet broken out into your own right quite yet, who were you to try and mosey on up to someone like Montana, a well-established villain. But you were both at the point where he could not be more obvious with you. He wants to do everything with you; wine and dine you, schmooze and woo you, hell, marry you and everything in between. But something, something grand and major, is preventing you from fully giving yourself to him.

Was it yourself? Did you hate yourself so that you couldn’t allow yourself to be happy with him? A difficult fix, a low self esteem is near impossible to rise with mere compliments.

Was it another man? The thought makes Montana’s blood boil; the idea that you’re torn between two lovers (because to the cowboy, that’s what you are) and you can’t decide. And easy fix, all things considered. He’d just have to kill the other man.

But maybe it was something more… you reminded Montana of a teenager sneaking out and about, skirting responsibilities and hiding a boyfriend from your disapproving parents.

… parents? ‘Ah,’ the cowboy thinks, ‘I think I've got you figured out, sweet pea.’

=-=

Chameleon’s lounge was lush and truly over done, with its velvet curtains and plush couch; Montana would rather stand. From his position, he could peer down at the professional imposter with a cool gaze.

“Let me summarize.” Chameleon starts. “You and my darling little assistant have been flirting for the last several weeks and you wish to have my formal permission to court them.”

Montana nods. “That’s the gist.” He and the chameleon were equals, there was no need to be overtly formal with him.

The imposter hums. “I find this hard to believe as my little Creep cannot flirt to save their life; however, I am indeed aware of their infatuation with you.” he explains calmly. He sighs deeply, taking a drag from his cigarette, smoke wafting around his formless face. “You’re not a good man, Mr. Brice; none of us are, but you are better than most.

“It is important to know that this is a job in which deception is key, and there will be times Creep will be lying to others about their love for them. Can you handle that? My little Creep doing their job?”

It felt like a cruel question. Of course Montana would prefer you quit the villain gig as a whole, have him take care of you for the rest of your mortal lives; but he also knew that this was your profession, and he knew you could keep it professional.

So he nods, grim and disturbed by the question.

And in turn, Chameleon nods as well.

=-=

Your mentor at your doorstep was the last thing you expected that day. What came out of his mouth shocked you more.

“I gave the cowboy permission to date you. Thank me later.”

"You what?"

Chameleon didn't even flinch, crossing his arms with an indignant hum that sounded almost teasing. "I gave Brice permission to date you." He repeats, as if he's stating the weather outside. For a moment, all you can do is stare, so many emotions swirling through your brain you couldn't land on a single one to express. "He'll be coming down around 7pm today, for a date, he'll be bringing you to that new restaurant on 53rd street, it's formal wear. If you need some other clothes, call Quentin."

"What."

"You're in shock," he states, lips quirking up, "don't worry your pretty little head, Creep, just go get ready for your dtae tonight."

You couldn't even stop him as he walked off, mind still doing circles around itself. Only once he'd left the hallway that lead to your apartment, did you finally slip back inside your home and shut your door. At first you were silent, walking to the kitchen to lean against the counter.

"I have a date with Montana..?"

Your face split into the largest grin you think you've ever had.

"I HAVE A FUCKING DATE WITH MONTANA!"

---

Just a lil thing I wanted to add because I thought it was cute, but..

COWBOY ANON UR WRITING IS LIKE A PRESENT TO ME, I LOVE IT SO MUCH UR SO GOOD AT IT

#mr. voorhees rambles #🤠 anon #🤠 anon's writing #Chameleon's Assistant - The Creep

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stonewallsposts · 3 months

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What does the story of manna tell me?

God provides manna for the Israelites after they up and leave Egypt. The name "manna", comes from the Hebrews asking....man hu?... What is it?

It struck me while I was praying and thinking about this: how often do I misunderstand what the Lord is doing? He gives me something and my response is ... what is this? What am I supposed to do with this? How is this going to help?

The manna was food for their sustenance... they just didn't recognize it as such when it first appeared.

The other thing that struck me about the manna story is the fact the manna would not last for a second day. This kind of hits home because over the last few years, I have had the knowledge that it's an uncomfortable feeling at my age, close to retirement, to have that gung-ho, I'm-not-going-to-worry-about-anything-other-than-trusting-You,-Lord feeling that so many of our worship songs are always mentioning. I am honestly worried about giving my security to the Lord. But just like with the manna, we can't rely on yesterday's provision. There are no guarantees in this life and nest eggs can go bad. We need the Lord's provision continually.

I'm embarrassed for myself about this too because this kind of provision in time of need has been repeatedly met during my lifetime. I've never known the Lord to be unfaithful and leave me hanging... too long...

One other nugget from the manna example: I should also note that God didn't take it away from them either until they entered the promised land.

I have never had any inkling, either through scripture or my lived experience that God is a capricious giver. So for now, I think I'm ready to just trust Him. IF He decides to take something away, I've also learned through experience that I will be prepared in advance and it won't be nearly as devastating as I thought it would be. So why did I get it in my head that I needed to be afraid of this hypothetical loss of security? No idea. It's just stupid. But even if it does happen, the Lord will still make a way for me to get through by trusting Him.

That said, I also need to be prepared.... Luke 9:57-62.

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genshin-obsessed · 3 years

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(Part 1) Miss Pocket, I actually have an angst idea for you, where in the the boys (any boy you like) gets married to another girl while s/o, who is in love and is best friends with the boys unaware of her feelings for them, is heartbroken yet trying to be happy for the boys but leaves the wedding early because she could no longer bear the pain where she leaves the city to save herself from the pain and not let anyone see her cry, excusing it as a emergency commission.

I loved this idea so much... i wrote it the same day i got it <3 I was gonna make it super gorey buuut i decided there was no need lol. I chose Diluc obvi so I couldn't do that last part like you wanted (from the 3rd ask) but I did something similar <333 also yeah I added jean x diluc *ew* /j Word Count: 2.064

Warnings: angst, unedited, kinda rushed (I spent half a day on this), I describe injuries in detail, reader dies <3

✧ Cheers to the Newlyweds! ✧

You turned your gaze away when the ceremonial kiss came, feeling your heart clench painfully. Your knuckles were turning white from how hard you were squeezing your fist.

That could’ve been you… that was supposed to be you! You held back tears as your eyes flickered back to the happy couple. Jean’s face had a bright red blush as Diluc hugged her close. The entire venue burst with applause and it was almost deafening. There was so much bitterness in your heart right now, you felt no joy for them.

You tried so hard to be happy for them- him. Diluc meant so much to you. You had known him for years and it was only inevitable that you’d develop feelings for him. At first, you denied it, not wanting to admit you were in love with your best friend. But eventually, you came to terms with your feelings, realizing they weren’t bad.

So, you planned it all out. You would confess to Diluc and ask him out to dinner. You thought he felt the same, seeing as how Diluc acted very differently with you. He joked around more, he didn’t mind affection, he would often tease you, he really was a completely different person.

The day that convinced you that Diluc felt the same way was when you two had stumbled upon the topic of love. He’d asked if you had anyone you liked and you nodded, telling him you were indeed in love. Of course, you hadn’t mentioned who since you were still deciding whether to confess at the time. You turned the question on him and he just… stared for a minute.

The way he stared at you; that look in his eyes made your heart race. Then he finally nodded, saying he too was madly in love with someone.

That was it, you were convinced it was you. That night, you could barely sleep thinking about that look in his eyes. It made your heart and it sent butterflies through your stomach.

So finally, you decided to confess to him after much debate. You had been invited to a party being held by the Knights of Favonius and both of you had been invited. You attended together and that night, you had plans to confess to Diluc.

But then… tragedy struck as they say. Jean had claimed she had an important announcement to make. You hoped her announcement would help ease your nerves of wanting to confess but you were so wrong.

Jean had called Diluc to her side- which stirred up many questions. Then she said it.

“We’re getting married!” Though Diluc was an avid hater of the Knights, everyone still applauded them and even congratulated them. You, however, could only watch in horror.

Jean went on to admit that she had been in a relationship with Diluc for a couple of years and now that he had proposed, she wanted her fellow knights at the wedding.

Diluc had later asked what you wanted to talk about but all you could do was stare. He asked if you were alright, taking your arm but you roughly shoved him off. Tears welled up so quickly that all you could do was look away. You ran away as fast as you could, ignoring his calls.

Now… you were here… at their stupid wedding. You wondered why you’d even bothered to come here. As the two danced and laughed, all you could think of was how you could never have what they did.

Diluc would never gently take your face and kiss your lips, he would never hug you from behind- an act you often fantasized about- he would never lay down with you on the days you were sick, and he would never be the first face you saw when you woke up.

He would never be yours.

This was some slap in the face. And you’d finally decided that you were done. You were done with Jean, Diluc, and Mondstat. You left the wedding, leaving your drink on a table.

You packed up and you left Mondstat, no longer caring about how anyone else felt. Your feelings mattered too and you would no longer pretend to be happy about a situation that tore you apart inside.

Diluc searched that day for you, wondering why his best friend wasn’t with him. But he couldn’t find you, eventually, the wedding came to an end with Diluc whisking Jean away to his home.

As Jean slept peacefully from their nightly activities, Diluc felt an overwhelming discomfort. The shower already hasn’t helped so he decided to take a walk through his home. As he walked past a room, he froze. A very tall woman sat in a chair, her glowing green eyes staring at his figure.

“Toxin…” Diluc breathed as he stepped into the room. “You have some nerve showing up at my house.”

“Oh relax, I only came to congratulate you on your wedding. So… congratulations!” Diluc glared at her and though he was ready to fight, he waited for her to attack first, but she didn’t.

“What do you want?”

“To thank you.”

“For what?”

“You finally broke (y/n) for me.” His eyes widened at the mention of your name. He hadn’t seen you all day and now Toxin was talking about you?

“What?” Toxin brought her hand up towards her face and a green, magical butterfly appeared and landed on her extended finger. As it fluttered its wings, green sparkles escaped around it.

“I’m surprised someone as intelligent as you could be so stupid. Anyway,” Toxin stood up as the butterfly vanished, “I have a wedding gift for you!”

“We don’t want it,” Diluc glared, “where is she? Where’s (y/n)?” Now he really had to talk to you.

“I don’t know, all I know is that she was in love with you. Besides, you’ll like my gift!”

"She... what?" What did she say? You were... in love with him? No, that wasn't possible, you favored someone else! He knew that!

"That's a lie! She loves someone else!"

"Yeah, no, she loved you. Like I said, you're an idiot."

"Stop lying to me..." Diluc said, his voice cracking as he shook his head. He was in denial and Toxin could tell. But the woman didn't care. She knew something else would hurt Diluc even more than you being in love with him while watching him marry someone else.

"I'm not lying. Anyway... that gift I mentioned."

“I said we don’t want it! Stop changing the subject! What do you mean (y/n) loved me?!"

"Oh my fu- she loved you, you idiot! She loved you and you forced her to watch as you married someone else! You forced her to attend your shitty wedding, and you made her watch as you devoted yourself to that dandelion knight! She loves you like you love Jean."

"No..."

"God, now. That gift-"

"WE DON'T WANT IT!" Toxin rolled her eyes and held her hands up.

“I swear I won’t hurt anyone in the city. Come on,” Toxin walked closer to him, before staring down at him with amusement in her eyes, “I promise you’ll want it.”

“… I just want (y/n).”

“No. You want Jean. You chose her after all.”

“Fuck you.”

“Right now? Here? With your new wife sleeping in the other room-” Toxin abruptly stopped when the tip of a blade touched her neck.

“I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll kill you.” Toxin could see the tears welling up in Diluc's eyes and she reveled at the sight.

“Then kill me.” Her words went unchallenged as Diluc’s shaking hand dropped the weapon. The claymore hit the ground with a loud thud and he backed up.

“… I just want (y/n) back…”

“I don’t think you ever had her to begin with. But sure.” Toxin commented as she walked past the man, who slowly fell to his knees.

——

The next day was horrific. All that could be heard in the city were screams of terror which had alerted the knights, especially Jean and her husband, who had been out on a lovely date. Everyone quickly gathered there, only to be placed in front of a gruesome scene. Diluc’s nightmare had come true and he could feel the fear coursing through his veins. He started shaking uncontrollably as his legs moved before he could think.

“… no… (Y/N)!!!!” Diluc screamed as he ran towards the tavern. Everyone was frozen at the sight while he was the only one taking action.

“Oh my god- (y/n)!!” Jean- finally breaking from her trance- followed Diluc with Kaeya, Albedo, and Amber behind them.

From the roof, your body hung upside down. There had been rope that bound your left ankle, while the other hung free. There had been large gashes in your torso, arms, and thighs from which blood still poured through. Your hair, one that had been so beautifully decorated, now had a mixture of dirt and blood in it. There was cut along your cheek and a weird symbol in your wide eyes- one that had been magically placed on your irises.

Diluc’s heart was beating a mile a minute and he felt dizzy and nauseous at the same time. He was in denial- this wasn’t you. There was no way this could’ve been you.

“No! God- no! Please, anything but this!” He cried as the tears started to drip from his eyes. He wasn’t one to cry in front of just anyone, yet he couldn’t keep his tears down. They just forced themselves out.

Diluc climbed to the roof where he gingerly tried to pull you back up. Due to your arms hanging by your head, he could only tug the rope to get you up to him. Once he was able to grab your waist, he released your leg and pulled you into his chest.

Diluc couldn't even begin to realize how happy you would’ve been to be held by him like this. You often wished he would just hold you close and whisper sweet nothings to you. Now you finally had your chance… but you weren’t even alive to see it.

“Get out of here! There’s no need to watch!” Kaeya yelled, shooing everyone away. Albedo joined him, his eyes finally looking up at Diluc.

The redhead was sobbing, rocking back and forth with you in his arms. Your blood painted his arms and clothes, yet he didn’t care.

“Not you too… pl-please not you too…” he whispered, “don’t leave me like this, no, no, no, no don’t leave.” He wasn’t even paying attention to the words that escaped his lips, they were mainly incoherent mumbles if anything.

“Oh god…” Amber covered her mouth at the words written on a nearby table. “LOOK!”

Jean, Albedo, and Kaeya ran to her side, the same expression forming on their faces when they saw the message.

“Cheers to the newlyweds!”

“… someone… Did this?” Jean whispered, looking up at her husband. Diluc was also staring down at the message now, a deadly glare in his gaze. Tears continued to drip from his glossy eyes, and he was still shaking, but it was now from anger. The hold he had on you would’ve been painful and would’ve caused bruising. The anger flowed through him and he felt the need to just… destroy everything.

Diluc stared down at your empty eyes, his tears spilling into your face. Where was your beautiful glow? That sweet laughter? Your bright eyes… the warmth you had. Where did it go? Why you? You didn’t do anything. If anyone should’ve been punished, it should be him. He hurt you. You never did anything wrong.

“I’ll kill her…” he vowed, closing your eyes and hugging you tightly against his chest, “I will kill her and I’ll kill anyone who helped. I’ll rip them to shreds. Every last one of them…”

From afar, Toxin watched with a sickening smile on her face. This was exactly what she’d wanted. Her eyes finally fell to the small object in her hands, one that glowed with magic. This is what you’d kept from her and she needed it back. Thanks to Diluc, she finally had it in her possession.

“I said I wouldn’t harm anyone in the city. However, your little miss pretty wasn’t in Mondstat…”

#genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin x reader #diluc imagines #genshin x female reader #genshin impact x female reader

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ameliora-j · 3 years

Text

before i fell // dm x reader

words: 2.8k

warnings: angst, talk of a breakup, mention of loss of virginity, mention of not eating, mention of not sleeping, pansy is kinda ooc and so is draco, the slytherins are assholes

a/n: i used a lot of olivia rodrigo lyrics bc i listened to SOUR while writing lol. lmk if i should add other warnings and happy reading babies!

you would be cliche and say that you fell in love the way that you fall asleep. slowly and then all at once. but you couldn’t because you didn’t. it wasn’t a john green novel and you weren’t hazel grace lancaster. falling in love wasn’t simple, and that description of it truly… didn’t describe anything. falling in love was more complicated than that. there were more layers to it than that. falling in love was rather… quick and unexpected. unexpected like snow in the middle of march. or rain when there’s not a cloud in sight. quick like waiting months for an event and finally when the time comes, it feels like you blinked and then it was over.

falling in love with draco malfoy was all of these things and more. falling in love with draco malfoy brought upon more layers than that. falling in love with draco malfoy brought pain. not just any kind of pain, no… horrible, heart wrenching, gut twisting pain. pain that began by bubbling itself in your chest right at the center of your heart, then slowly but surely worked it’s way outwards. encapsulating your entire body and making every inch of your body ache. pain like when you get attached to a character and the author kills them off. pain like when you finish your favorite book and you realize that you’re not truly in that universe and none of that actually happened. pain like when you’re two hours, fifteen minutes, and twelve seconds into avengers: infinity war and peter parker says “mr. stark, i don’t feel so good.” pain that you’ve never felt. pain that can’t be described. pain that you felt for days. pain.

you thought it was strange when the platinum blonde slytherin sought you out. he came to you one day while you sat silently at the black lake. you were alone, but only because you liked to be. you had friends of course, many actually, but you chose to be alone. the black lake was your place of solace. then along came draco. he sat beside you, a good distance away, but his presence was known. you looked to him for an explanation but he offered none. just smiled at you and turned to his notes, so you did the same. the second time he came, he sat closer, but still in silence. the third time is when he struck up conversation.

“yln, yeah?” he questioned.

“yn, actually. but yes, yn yln. and you’re draco malfoy?” you asked.

“i am,” he smirked at your knowledge of his name and then you returned to your studying. after that, the two of you talked every time he came and sat with you. short discussions about the weather or the potions assignment. you don’t know when, but soon they became longer. discussions of your day and your family. your interests and how you got your name. how you loved the rain and the stars and how you loved hogwarts, but you often missed home. draco knew you inside and out and you knew him—and before long, you called the tall, skinny blonde your boyfriend.

you walked the halls of hogwarts together, hand in hand. draco walked haughtily with a hard scowl and you with a bright smile. while you walked cheerfully and waved to your friends and to first years while draco glared at anyone who dared look at the two of you. he took you to parties in the slytherin common room and you wore his jersey proudly at quidditch games, even when he played against your house. he bought you lavish gifts at all of your trips to hogsmeade and he showered you in kisses, praise, and affection. you were whole heartedly smitten with the sole heir to the malfoy fortune.

it was one fateful day in the common room when your heart absolutely exploded. that was the day you knew that you fell in love with draco malfoy. you had been a thing for about two, going on three, months. you were sitting in the slytherin common room, reading in silence when he asked. you were pressed against his chest and he pressed a soft kiss to your head. “‘ve been meaning to ask you something,” he murmured gently. this caused you to close the book and turn your full attention to him. “want you to wear this,” he said, holding out a ring. “it’s the malfoy family crest.”

your stomach and your heart exploded into billions of butterflies and you launched yourself forward, straight into his chest. millions of emotions overcame you as you squeezed his neck as tight as possible. you nodded into his neck as a few stray tears fell. he kissed your head repeatedly as he slid the ring onto your finger before pressing his lips to your’s gently. you giggled excitedly as you stared down at the ring on your finger. “do you like it?” he asked you.

“i love it, dray. i love you. thank you s’much,” you confessed for the first time as you cuddled back into his chest. you don’t know what it was that made the blonde boy seek you out, but you’re glad he did. if only you knew the true nature of his intentions. but alas, you were oblivious.

it was the beginning of the school year, on the train to hogwarts. in the compartment of what was labeled as “the slytherin squad.” there sat theo nott, pansy parkinson, blaise zabini, and—your now boyfriend—draco malfoy.

they were all sitting around, taking the piss out of draco for all of his past failed relationships when it was brought up. “i’ll bet malfoy couldn’t get a girl to fall in love with him if he paid her,” theo spoke.

“i’ll take that bet,” draco countered.

“alright. but we get to pick the girl,” blaise decided.

“what?” pansy asked as theo began to look around the compartment. it was a few minutes before he found the victim. it was then that your fate was sealed. there, sitting in the back corner, head tucked deep into a copy of the fault in our stars, was you. you. awkward and quiet. you with seemingly no friends. poor little unsuspecting you.

“that one,” nott smirked evilly.

“what the weirdo?!” draco exclaimed incredulously. “no way!”

“so then you forfeit?” blaise asked, causing draco to release a frustrated exhale.

“alright i’ll do it,” he rolled his eyes.

“then we give you five months. make yn yln fall in love with you in five months and we’ll do your homework for the rest of the year,” theo posed.

“and if i don’t?” draco asked.

“and when you don’t… thennn,” blaise taunted as he searched for a deal that was fair.

“then we get two hundred galleons each and you have to apologize to potter for making his life hell,” theo smirked. draco scoffed at this and rolled his eyes, but nodded nonetheless.

“and what are my conditions?” he raised an eyebrow.

“she has to say it first. you can do anything you want or need to get her to say it, but you cannot say ‘i love you’ first,” blaise spoke.

“this doesn’t seem fair to yn,” pansy piped in.

“shut your mouth parkinson. no one asked your opinion,” theo growled with a roll of his eyes. but it was too late. there was absolutely nothing the girl could do to get the three to change their minds. she just had to sit idly by and watch draco malfoy break your heart as she said nothing. she wished that she could stop it, but their minds were made up. and the three of them were very stubborn.

it was a few days after draco gave you his ring when your bubble came crashing down. you were walking to meet draco at your spot at the black lake when blaise and theo intercepted you. you knew who they were, of course you did. they were your boyfriend’s best friends, however why they were currently speaking to you, you had no idea.

they told you it would be quick. that they just wanted to show you something in the slytherin common room and left little room for argument, so you had no choice but to follow them there. they sat you on the couch and began to discuss your relationship with draco. you were very confused and had no idea why you were here. “so… draco hasn’t told you?” blaise mocked a gasp of shock.

“no?” you raised a soft eyebrow as you stared on. this made theo smirk evilly as he pulled up a projector and pointed his wand at it. a picture appeared, it looked like a memory. “what’s this?” you asked before the boys urged you to ‘shh.’ you sunk further into the couch as you idly watched on.

you truly weren’t paying attention untill you heard the voice of your boyfriend. the words he spoke stung. you were soft. emotional. the way he spoke about you absolutely crushed you. it would crush anyone, but it shattered you especially. “she’s so fucking weird!” “i’ll take that bet.”

‘s all you were. all you ever were. just a stupid belt. another notch in his belt. it was that moment that draco had barged into the common room. but by then, it was already too late. the tears had already sprung to your eyes and you were preparing for a torrential downpour as you heard his voice. “i’m out!” he announced breathlessly. he froze in his run as his eyes fell on you and what was playing on the projector currently. “bunny…” he whispered softly as his hand touched your shoulder, but you quickly jerked away as if his hand had burned you on contact.

“don’t call me that. don’t touch me,” you demanded as the tears began to fall. “that’s all i was? a bet?” an involuntary whimper sounded from the depths of your throat. “i feel so stupid.” you shook your head.

“no, bunny please listen to me,” you didn’t allow the boy to finish as you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself.

“don’t call me that!” you demanded. “in fact don’t call me at all. don’t… don’t talk to me draco. ever again. i can’t believe i fell for your stupid joke. i feel so… i feel like an idiot,” you spoke. you shook your head, hastily wiping at your eyes untill you saw stars. it was then that you decided to walk away.

“YN STOP!” draco yelled. “LISTEN to me,” he demanded.

“NO!” you shouted as you turned to face him finally. “godric draco, i wish you would’ve thought this through before i went and fell in love with you,” you sniffled as you wiped your snot on your sweater sleeve.

“yn please just let me explain. please listen to me, please,” he begged.

“i feel like you betrayed me,” you shook your head. “i told you everything. you were my everything. draco i loved you. i actually loved you. i thought you loved me too but i guess you’re just a really good actor,” you sniffled once more. “i hate you draco. i really fucking hate you. i don’t want to hear your bullshit explanation because i know that you’ll never feel sorry for the way i’m hurting right now.”

“it was a bet!” draco shouted as you walked away, hand on the door knob. you scoffed as you muttered a sarcastic, ‘no shit.’ “that’s how it started yes, but then i got to know you. i figured out who you were. i learned that your favorite color is yfc and that you prefer night over day because you love the stars and that your favorite star is scorpius and you would name your son after that star one day. i learned that you love to read and you love when it storms but you're afraid of the thunder. you only dance when you’re drunk and you giggle when you’re nervous and i love that giggle. with everything in me i do. your favorite book is yfb and you choose to be alone but you let everyone be your friend. you’re gorgeous. inside and out and while it may have started as a bet, somewhere along the lines i fell in love with you so yn please. please don’t leave,” he whispered the last part as his voice came out broken.

you took a deep breath in before you began to speak. “you couldn’t have cared less about someone who loved you more. i’d say you broke my heart but you broke much more than that,” you shook your head as you furiously wiped at your eyes again. “i gave you my all draco. you were my first everything. i gave you my virginity for merlin’s sake. all to find out that i was just some stupid bet,” you scoffed.

“yn please believe me when i say that you’re so much more than that,” he begged again. “i came to tell them that they won. that i wanted out because i fell in love with you too!”

“it doesn’t matter if you don’t see me as a bet any longer. the fact is that you did. i’m worth so so much more than that.” your breaths were ragged as you spoke. “i really wish that you had thought this through before i went and fell in love with you.” you repeated with a small sniffle. “don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded? don’t you think i loved you too much to think i deserve nothing?” you were openly sobbing at this point.

“yn please believe me when i tell you how sorry i am…” he spoke softly.

“don’t tell me you’re sorry. feel sorry for yourself. because someday i’ll be everything to somebody else,” with this you turned away from him. you hastily opened the door and practically ran out of the common room and away from him.

at that moment you decided to forget about it. draco, and the bet, and love, and everything. like in the vampire diaries, you decided to turn your emotions off. you laid in your dorm crying for hours before you made that decision, however. your dorm mates checked on you often, but you never offered more than merely a half hearted shrug, letting them know that you were still alive, but barely breathing. you skipped classes and meals. you were a mere shell of yourself. it was about two weeks before you could face draco again. and even then you couldn’t truly. you went into the great hall and found “the slytherin squad” sans draco.

pansy looked at you sympathetically while theo and blaise basked in the glow of their new victory. you pulled the ring off carelessly as you stopped in front of them, hair disheveled and uniform askew. you had dark bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep you’d gotten in the past fourteen days and your eyes were rimmed red with the weight of your emotions. “c’you just give this back to malfoy,” you murmured half-heartedly as you dropped the ring on the table in front of the three. just speaking his name brought you pain.

your shoulders were sunken in defeat and you were but a shell of your usual cheerful self. you don’t even know when the last time you saw daylight or had fresh air was. “wait yln,” pansy called hesitantly. you turned to face her, still staring down at your mary janes as you pulled and twisted your fingers untill you heard your knuckles pop. “you… you really love him, don’t you?”

you just shrugged your right shoulder as you used the heel of your palm to wipe the snot from your rapidly reddening nose. “i was just some stupid bet,” you replied as tears begin to spill rapidly over your waterline.

“if it’s any consolation… it was those two bozos’ idea,” pansy told you as she pointed to blaise and theo.

“doesn’t matter,” you murmured. “he’s still a traitor,” you answered as you walked away, forgetting all about the slytherin prince and his stupid friends. forgetting all about how he hit you with a train of his “love.” forgetting all about how for three months he was your everything. forgetting all about how he wrote to his mum about you and you wrote to your parents about him. forgetting all about draco malfoy. the platinum blonde boy with stormy grey eyes who had a long story buried beneath his haughty exterior. the boy who you called your first. your first kiss. your first time. your first love. forgetting all about the boy that made you fall in love just to tell you it was all a bet.

attempting to revert back to how you were before you fell.

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