#marianna foster | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

playhousemassacrez · 10 months

Note

👻

(⤷ ┊ ◜ 👻 ◞ ┊ headcanons for your Missing Children and/or Puppet Soul)

William doesn't kill children, so he kills young adults in my AU instead. I also wanted to add the younger Afton kids and the Emily kids too cuz yes.

Gabriel "Gabe" Frederickson, the soul of Freddy Fazbear

Please refer him as Gabe.

During his first day inside the Animatronic Freddy body, Gabe tries to gain control of himself but the more he tried, the more pain he was in, causing his nose to bleed.

Gabe was the fifth victim. Died on June 13, 1985.

Also, William favored him the most since he always saw how "foolish" he was, so the asshole tries his "best" to take Gabe under his wing.

Jeremy Boyd, the soul of Bonnie the Bunny

Jeremy tends to be the most forgetful of the gang.

He and Fritz always end up in trouble.

Has a HUGE crush on Susie but he thinks she doesn't like him that way. Little does he know; Susie also has feelings for him.

Jeremy is adorably dorky. He's a legit gift to the rest of the gang.

Jeremy always gets uncomfortable around William whenever he wears purple. Michael doesn't blame him.

He's Gabe's best friend so that's why Bonnie and Freddy are always made to be best friends.

Susie sometimes nicknames him "Jay".

Jeremy was the second victim. Died on June 13, 1985.

Susie Cooper, the soul of Chica the Chicken

Susie gives out hugs a lot, if they're not tight enough to mess up anyone's organs that is.

She's adorable, but effortlessly tough.

Her Golden Retriever is named Carl. Why she named the pup Carl is forever a mystery.

Girl can stress eat A LOT.

Her relationship with Jeremy is the "He asked for no pickles!" meme.

Can cook pretty well! She learned how to cook since she was four years old from her aunt, who owned a diner since the 50's.

She's the one who painted Jeremy and Fritz's nails!

Dyed the tips of her hair brown cuz she thought it was cool.

Susie and Fritz like to butt heads with each other.

Susie was the first victim, but we all know that. Died on June 13, 1985.

Fritz Foster, the soul of Foxy the pirate Fox

Fritz had some eye trauma as a small child and had to wear an eyepatch. His eye trauma is pretty much gone now, but he still wears his eyepatch, just to make him "look cooler".

Resting bitch face for days.

Lost his hand at the age of ten when he made a bet with some other kid around the train tracks in St. George. He showed no fear that day.

He loves to mess with Susie and Jeremy a lot.

Fritz thinks he’s a ladies' man, but the ladies aren’t interested in him.

William thinks he’s ruthless, so he pretty much doesn’t like Fritz that much.

Fritz was the third victim. Died on June 13, 1985.

Andrew [REDACTED], the soul of Golden Freddy/Goldie (Male)

Resting bitch face part 2: electric boogaloo

Andrew hated Freddy’s pizza cuz Fredbear’s pizza was better. He hates how greasy it is.

You might think he hates everything, but he doesn’t.

Evan likes him better than the others. Andrew finds that a bit concerning, but he adores that kid. Too bad he killed him.

Speaking of which, Andrew now has a fear for children cuz he’s afraid he would hurt them, just like he hurt Evan.

Andrew was the fifth victim. Died on June 13, 1985.

Marianna Emily, the soul of The Puppet

Marianna is Charlie’s older sister.

Takes ballet classes.

Henry made the Puppet doll looks like her but she was made for Charlie.

Everyone nicknames her "Mari".

Is mostly very calm and collected, but she definitely has a good sense of enthusiasm and humor.

Marianna was also the first victim. Died on June 10, 1985.

Cassidy Belmore, the soul of Golden Freddy (Female)

Her dad is Fredbear :0!

E-Girl but it's the 1980's

"IT'S NOT A PHASE, MOM!"

Cassidy is Evan's babysitter when William and Joan go out and since sometimes Michael goes out to a friend's house (for dumbass things), Joan calls Lena if Cassidy can babysit Evan and Elizabeth.

Has some form of anger issues.

Hates the "creepy" dolls from her mom's doll collection.

Will not hesitate to beat a bitch.

Doesn't trust William that much, but he pays her when she babysits his two younger kids so she can buy "goth girl" things, so Cassidy stays quiet around him.

Resting bitch face part 3: the female version

Cassidy was the last victim. Died on June 14, 1985.

She had the worst death out of everyone else cuz William chopped her up into pieces.

Charlie Emily

Charlie, Elizabeth and Evan knew each other very well and were extremely close until they died.

She's really good friends with Elizabeth.

Charlie likes all of the Animatronics, but her favorite happens to be the Puppet cuz her dad made it for her.

Charlie calls Sammy "Sam" while he calls her "Lottie", due to the fact that her full name is Charlotte.

Charlie almost dresses like Henry.

She's as curious as her father, though not in a bad way. She’s very sweet, caring and has an innate sense of justice. She is always the one to stand up to bullies on the playground or invite a lonely kid to sit with her at lunch. She’s bright for her age, and though she may seem a bit ditzy, she’s very sharp. It's hard to get anything past her. She’s a bit oblivious to the world around her, though. She doesn’t pick up on most social cues and just goes around saying whatever she feels like with no filter, just like her father.

Charlie is the only one that likes spiders.

Like in the books, Charlie is the oldest twin.

Her favorite color is green.

Did ballet but she hates it so she dropped out of it.

Charlie was the first child victim after a few teenagers locked her outside of Fredbear's. Died on October 31, 1984.

Everyone knows that Charlie has died in the 80's, so why is there a teenage version of her existing in the modern times?

Sammy Emily, the soul of Lefty

The youngest of the Emily kids.

He and Charlie are close.

Sammy likes Freddy a lot.

Sammy wears his baseball hat sometimes. He also likes baseball and plays it.

Sammy was killed a few years after his sisters died. Died on June 18, 1988.

Elizabeth Afton

Elizabeth got her hair and eye color from her grandmother, Ruby. William loves his daughter but hates how his mother looks so similar to Elizabeth.

William's favorite child obviously.

She bit Michael on the nose once when she was two years old, due to a fit of rage. William never forgot how funny it was.

Doesn't like bugs or gross things, but Michael used to torment her by cutting the heads off her dolls, filling her pretty dress shoes with mud or sticking fake bugs in her bed.

Elizabeth once drop-kicked Michael’s legs while he tries to flirt with a girl and Michael got in trouble for making her fall.

When she was three, Elizabeth was scared of Spring Bonnie. William had to keep the suit away from Elizabeth so Spring Bonnie wouldn't scare her again.

Speaking of which, she calls Spring Bonnie "Honeybun".

She's strawberry blonde and nobody is gonna take it out of my cold dead hands.

The reason why William created Baby in the image of his daughter was because of the sick fantasy that she would continue his murderous legacy when she grows up.

William wanted Elizabeth to stay away from Baby, so she wouldn't get killed. But she didn’t listen and got killed instead. William grieved for a week after her death.

Loves playing with her dolls and drawing. She would also play dress up often, sometimes stealing her mom's make-up.

Elizabeth was very much the goofy older sister type, acting as though she knew everything about everything and could teach Evan “how the world works”, as she puts it. Evan, more or less, puts up with it and often entertained Elizabeth’s goofy, if not spoiled, nature by doing his best to keep up. He would normally be shy around people, but he loves his sister and if he has to listen to her and put up with her shenanigans, then he would be happy to.

William spoils her a lot.

Elizabeth has her mother's accent.

Michael, Elizabeth and Evan have a trio/group name that she called "The Triple A's".

Elizabeth had a ton of Barbies, My Little Ponies and other dolls from the 1980's before she died.

Her favorite color is pink cuz yes.

Elizabeth has totally done the whole "But I'm not in your room!" thing with Michael. She'd rile him up on purpose because she thinks it's fun when he gets mad and chases her out of his room.

An actual prodigy, or at least what William says.

Fairly popular at school.

Favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla.

Leans more towards her mother than her father.

Elizabeth was Baby's first victim. Died on March 16, 1985.

People nowadays don't understand why there's a teenage Elizabeth working at Freddy's. Was Elizabeth's death a hoax? Or did Elizabeth not even exist in the 80's at all?

Evan Afton

The youngest Afton child.

Evan owned a ton of plushies from both Freddy Fazbear's Pizza and Fredbear's Family Diner. His most favorite is his Fredbear plush.

Likes chocolate milk. William spoils him for that, but Joan is always worried that Evan would have a sugar rush.

Evan loves watching Sesame Street. Sometimes Elizabeth would join him, and they would always sing along to the songs. Evan's favorite characters are Elmo, Big Bird and Cookie Monster.

Evan's middle name is Christopher after Christopher Robin from Winnie the Pooh, a book that Joan's father used to read to her when she was a little girl.

Like Elizabeth, William spoils him.

Evan even has his mother's accent like his sister too.

Has autism.

Normally the quietest of the Aftons, but he talks to his plush Fredbear without any problems. This baffles everyone around him.

Evan doesn't have any close friends, but he's not really disliked either. He's just "the quiet kid".

Loves the Fredbear and Friends cartoon series. It's comforting to him whenever Michael scares the shit out of the poor kid.

Just a little guy!

Evan was the first victim to Fredbear. Jr. Died on June 13, 1985.

There's a teenage version of Evan too? People just really don't understand.

Toby Brandon, the soul of Toy Freddy

Neat freak. Nuff said.

Nerd (affectionately).

Hates video games (sorry canon! Toy Freddy fans). He just can't stand them at all.

The only male in his group lol sorry bro

Finds passion in reading books.

Frederick was the first new victim. Died on July 10, 1987.

Lila Baxter, the soul of Toy Bonnie

Sometimes Lila thinks that she's different from the other girls.

Please be patient with her. She’s been through so much.

Lila was the last new victim. Died on July 13, 1987.

Stacy Cooper, the soul of Toy Chica/Chicky

Susie's twin older sister

Not the best cook but damn, she can bake!

Her favorite flowers are pink and yellow tulips.

Favorite color is pink, duh!

Met Toby in High School (yes, that dumb Toy Chica High School anime killer thing, but my Toy Chica is a sweetheart! I promise).

Has a matching glittery pink diary and pen.

Oh, the pen looks like this:

Stacy was the second new victim. Died on July 11, 1987.

Maddison "Maddie" Fisher, the soul of The Mangle/Toy Foxy

Maddie can be mischievous and hide in the most obscure places ever. Why? Cuz she's pretty damn flexible of course!

She was pretty sad at first about the irony of being mishandled by kids.

Has super light footsteps, so she’ll randomly pop up next to people and scare them (not on purpose tho).

Foster kid. Went through many foster homes until she was 19. Now lives with Toby and Stacy in their apartment.

She and Lila are best friends!

Often very clumsy, so she would get herself hurt sometimes.

Maddie was the third new victim. Died on July 12, 1987.

4 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 4 months

Text

Snippets for my Clone^2 Au that I thought was funny...

in incorrect quotes style format (Clone^2 = Both my Clone Damian Au and Clone Bruce Danny aus combined)

Snippet 1: Danny and Damian meeting for the first time

Danny, avoiding Damian's katana: I don't wanna know who made you I don't wanna know who made you I don't wanna know who made you Danny: pleASE STOP TRYING TO STAB ME

------- Snippet 2: Danny and Damian meeting (Alternative)

Bby Damian: gets dropped off in the ONE city where his dad's clone is Danny, internally: damn I don't wanna know who made you

Danny: alright little buddy, lets -- *blocks Damian's sword* please don't stab me -- let's get you something to -- *blocks Damian's sword* please don't stab me -- something to EAT

------------- Snippet 3: Danny checking out books in the library Librarian: oh, are you trying to learn arabic, Mister Fenton?

Danny: oh- uh, yeah :) my parents recently,,, took in a foster kid from overseas,,,, but we found out he doesn't know english and he's having a hard time adjusting Danny, lying (only partially) through his teeth: so I,,, thought,,, maybe it would help him acclimate to his new environment if I learned some arabic :) Librarian: oh how sweet! let me know if you need any help, i can find you more books Danny: thank you

----------

Snippet 4: Damian wants to patrol Damian: let me come with you on patrol Danny, 16 year old idiot who fights without powers: uh. no. you are Itty Bitty Child Damian: comes with anyways

----------- Snippet 5: Damian, trying to fight a ghost without a ghost-proof sword: Danny, catching him and holding him against his chest: *radiating exhaustion* no,,,, no,,,,, not yet,,,,

-------- Snippet 6: danny has an epiphany Danny, realizing that he needs to set an example now that Damian is coming with him on patrol: fUCK Danny: I NEED AN ACTUAL SUIT ---------- Snippet 7; dynamic duo Danny: what is it with you and batman and robin???? Damian, silently sweating: ,,,,,,,because they are exemplary partners and i would like to think that us two are the same Danny, doesnt know identities: ...aww??? thats kinda sweet??? okay :)

---------- Snippet 8: hypocrite Damian: dijaal (affectionate) Danny, on day ?? of solving a cold case after a ghost asked him to: hrbhk - Damian, what are you doing up? it's late, you have school in the morning Damian, staring at him deadpan: you have school too. you should go to bed Danny: five min..utes buddy. then i'll go to bed Damian, grabbing the back of his rolling chair and pushing him to bed: no. now. danny, with eyebags the size of the marianna trench: ...fine. now.

--------- Snippet 9: ...the line Danny, doing homework with Sam and Tucker: Danny: *has an epiphany* wait. shit Tucker and Sam: ...? Danny, his head in his hands: am I Damian's dad or his brother?? Danny: wh- what do we define this??? Tucker: ... you're brothers until its funny? and then you're his dad?

----------- Snippet 10: learning Danny: reading a book about learning arabic Damian, slamming his hand down on the book to get his attention: dijaal, *points to book* kitab Danny, frowning: what? Damian, tapping book: kitab Danny: ..ki..kitab? Kitab? Book? Damian: Boog...book. *points to table* tawila --------- Snippet 11: clone reveal Damian, later after he knows enough english and months of chilling out: i am a clone.... meant to kill my original Danny, internally: wow you don't say? Danny, out loud:..huh. okay. thanks for telling me, uh, same here. except that last part

---

Dijaal = imposter Damian is affectionately calling Danny an imposter because danny is a clone of bruce :)

#dpxdc #dpdc au #dp x dc #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny fenton is a clone #dp crossover #danny phantom au #dpxdc incorrect quotes format #i was telling my non-dpdc but dc friend about this au #and she pointed out the food for thought of danny being bruce waynes clone and just MMM yes #they talked about how they could see the two of them trying to find that line in their relationship #from brotherly or parental because technically damian is his biological son #by virtue of their existence and dna #they are ESSENTIALLY father and son #but danny is 16 and damian is 7 and neither of them are interested in behaving with that dynamic #and danny struggling to be an older brother and potentially being parental at times because of knowing who they are made of but the *being*#of their relationship #like yes thats ExACTLY why i originally wanted my og damian post #to include bruce clone danny #because of how FASCINATING that dynamic would be #danny doesnt wanna know who made damian because then he might have to get INVOLVED #and he has his own shit to worry about #clone^2

768 notes · View notes

netherfeildren · 9 months

Text

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .9

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Slight daddy kink; EXTREME domestic fluff

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Thank you for reading, I love you all so much :')

Artwork is Moonlight Over the Ocean by Marianna Foster

Word Count: 5.7K

Read on AO3

Time passes. Memory fades, memory adjusts, memory conforms to what we think we remember.

Joan Didion, Blue Nights

You sit at the kitchen table the next morning, and he watches as you peel an orange, separate it into perfect slices, and then reach over, palm up, with half of it presented to him. You eat your individual halves staring at each other, silly and smiling and too happy for words, swallowing slice by slice in silence. And tasting the same thing together, in this instance, means more to him than all that’s come before, and at the same time, is just one more moment, in a sea of moments, where he can only thank you for existing, for allowing him to exist alongside you. It hits him suddenly, bright and enormous as the blue sky, that you’re a gift, like the orange, a gift.

His phone rings as he’s shoveling the cheesy scrambled eggs you’d made him into his mouth. Half a dozen eggs and you don’t think it’s enough – are already planning on sticking some cinnamon rolls in the oven for him to devour, as well. Big man, big appetite, and it’s a little ridiculous, but the thought of being able to feed him and take care of him fills you with the most unadulterated of fizzy pleasures, deep in your belly.

“Eat, little girl,” he takes a breath to order.

All you can do is sigh and hum a murmur of acquiescence as you continue to watch him, chin cupped in your palm. That dignity you’d tried to remember last night is clear out the door by now. You really couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to care.

As you watch him take the call, you can hear the tinny, muffled sound of Tommy’s voice resonating against his ear. “Sorry to interrupt, brother, but Ger’s coming down with somethin’ – she was up sick all night. Thinking I should bring her home–”

Joel clears his throat, sets his fork down, already looking towards you, “Yeah– yeah, of course. I’ll leave now – meet you there.” He hangs up the call, “Gerri’s sick – Sarah needs me home.” He moves to stand and you follow his lead.

“Of course, go–”

“Will– will you come?” he asks a little hesitantly, a wash of boyish-shyness coloring his cheeks, “She asks for you all the time…”

“I– of course, I will, baby…” you reach out to clasp his hand in yours, “But you don’t think it’s too soon? Or– I don’t know…”

“She already knows you. She loves you.” He drags his thumb over the wing of your cheekbone, and his eyes flare with heat for just a second, “And we can be good,” but this thing between the two of you feels so wholly uncontrollable, that you aren’t sure that’s true.

You press your chest up against his, nuzzle the whiskers under his chin, “If we try very hard, I suppose we can…” He laughs, wrapping his arm around your waist to squeeze you against him.

“Behave.”

You sigh into his skin, run your hands down the hard contours of him, “Yeah– yes, alright, I’ll go with you.”

“Daddy, pancakes!” She runs circles around him, as quick and excited as a little buzzing bee.

“Pancakes? What about some fruit? Oatmeal?”

She pauses her racing, “Daddy, I hate fruit and I hate oatmeal,” she says very seriously.

“Christ,” he looks to you and rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He’s happy. He’s so happy, you can see it shimmer off him.

“Silly, daddy,” you whisper at him coyly, “Don’t you know everyone hates oatmeal?”

The sound of you calling him that wipes the smirk off his face, “Behave,” he tells you with mock severity. You turn to Sarah, sticking your tongue out at her, boring, you whisper. She’s nodding her head so hard her curls bounce up and down, huge, goofy smile stretched across her little face.

He turns back to Sarah who’s now hanging off his arm and singing, at the top of her lungs, what you’re pretty sure is her own rendition of What’s Up? by the 4 Non Blondes, “Yo, lady, since when do we hate fruit?” He flexes his thick bicep to curl his arm up while she hangs from the bend of his elbow like a monkey.

“Since I want pancakes,” she beams, and in the same breath turns to you, “Do you want to see my bat?”

“A baseball bat or a real bat?”

“A Bob bat.”

“A Bob bat?”

“Yes, my Dad bought him for me.” You turn to give him a skeptical look, and he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, turning to the fridge.

“I’ll bring it!” And she runs off, resuming her nineties serenade.

“You see what I gotta fuckin’ deal with,” he whispers as he comes over to lean down over you and grip you by the jaw. He forces his fingers between your molars over the skin of your cheeks so that he can wedge your jaw open, and you just sit there, open mouthed, panting up at him, caught in his hold, “And then I gotta deal with you misbehaving too…” There’s fire in his eyes. You scrunch your nose at him, you never misbehave. You try to make a tiny whimper of objection, but he doesn’t give you the chance to defend yourself. He closes the distance between you for an open mouthed kiss, just like that, licking hot and wet into you, so that you’re left aching for him.

She charges back into the kitchen at full speed just as he’s pulling away. An honest to God, real life, taxidermied bat, covered in pink and purple, sparkly My Little Pony Stickers and glue on rhinestones. She slams the thing down onto the table and beams up at you, wide and gap toothed and eternally proud.

You turn to him, arching a brow, “You bought this for her?”

He throws his hands up, “I’ve been tryna tell ya – weird kid.”

Sarah pets the top of the things lightly furred, slightly revolting head – the most loving look in her gaze, “Isn’t he pretty?” she croons. “His name is Bob.” And she’s so goddamned pleased, you break out into hysterical giggles.

“Kinda looks like Tommy, don’t’cha think?” Joel snickers.

Afterwards, he moves around the kitchen, making her pancakes while she sits on his foot, skinny arms and legs wrapped around his calf, clinging like a sloth, belting out a rendition of Shania Twain now, for the entire house to enjoy. He’s so patient, so loving and goofy with her. He lets her be a little girl, he accompanies her in her childhood, gently holding her hand and guiding her and laughing with her through her innocent silliness. He enjoys her childhood alongside her in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen a parent do. You watch them together, and it makes you want to cry.

It makes you wonder, quite desperately, what it would be like for you to have a child of his.

“Will you play Barbies with me?” she asks shyly. The pancakes have been eaten, and you’re sitting at the breakfast table, chin cupped in your palm, watching him clean up the kitchen after having been ordered to sit and not move. Stubborn, broad, gorgeous man. You watch the muscles in his back shift beneath his t-shirt, it has your mouth going a little dry, and you feel so warm and full of everything he makes you feel.

“‘Course I will.”

She leads you by her sweaty little hand out into the living room and pulls you down to sit on the floor in the center of the pink, plastic village she’s constructed. There are toy houses and cars and tiny little Barbie shoes, you’re sure Joel just loves stepping on with his bare feet early in the mornings, strewn all over the carpet – a right good Barbie village, if you’ve ever seen one. She pats your shoulder and then the top of your head as you settle on your bottom amidst the sprawling pink metropolis erected in the middle of his house.

She sits in front of you. “We can’t play babies today because–” she pushes her floppy curls exasperatedly out of her face, “Because they’re all in jail right now,” she tells you very seriously. “But don’t worry, we can play babies next time you come.”

You nod in understanding, equally serious, “Alright. Why are the babies in jail?”

“Well,” she starts to spread out the dolls in front of the two of you, meticulously organizing them in some mysterious order you’ve not yet been let in on, “They were really bad.” She gives you a wide-eyed, conspiratorial look, “I caught them eating bugs, and I was going to leave them in jail forever, but Daddy said that was too mean.”

“You caught them eating bugs, or I caught you eating bugs?” Joel’s voice calls from the kitchen.

She looks at you wide eyed and shocked as she shakes her head violently, “That’s not true, don’t believe him!”

“No eavesdropping!” you call, “This is a girl's conversation.” You wink at her, “Right, Sarah?”

“Yes, yes, just for girls, that’s right. No daddies.”

“Right.” She hands you the Barbie she’s chosen for you and presents you with the pink convertible she’s going to set them up in.

“Do you like her dress? Purple is my favorite color. Daddy told me his favorite color is brown,” she sticks her tongue out, “But I told him brown’s an ugly color. I told him he– he should choose purple instead, like me.”

“Not true,” he shouts, “I told you, baby, it’s blue now.” Your cheeks flare bright hot at that. You hear his loud chuckle.

“No’sdropping, Daddy!” Sarah yells back. Eavesdropping. “Girls only!” You catch his grumbling.

“My favorite color’s green,” you say.

“Oh, I like green too. That’s my number two favorite color.”

“You have good taste.”

“I know,” completely serious.

“Did you know my favorite movie is Thumbelina?”

“No, I didn’t know that. I love that movie too.” She hands you another Barbie, there are four different dolls clutched in your grasp now, and you’re worried you’ll run out of hand real estate soon.

“It’s Daddy’s favorite too. He always watches it with me, but he told me not to tell anyone,” she whispers, “So you can’t tell him I told you.”

You nod solemnly, placing a Barbie over your heart, “I promise.”

She gets shy again, all of a sudden, fiddling with a big plastic lizard you don’t know where she pulled from amongst the sea of pink. You cock your head and try and give her the most patient and encouraging smile you can muster to help her get her words out, “Thank you for playing in the water with me the other day.” All that time ago at the lake, “I had a lot of fun.” Her voice is so small as she says it, and the backs of your eyes pinch at the sound of her uncertainty. Children never forget. And adults should always remember that.

She shows you the entirety of the doll collection after that. She has about fifty different Barbie dolls, and it’s extremely obvious that Joel is not even a little bit in charge here and entirely at her behest. He’s still clattering around in the kitchen, doing God knows what, and you so badly want to go in there and kiss him, tell him how good he is and how much you want him and love him. Sitting here, playing with his little girl, bearing witness to her happiness, to the happiness he’s so painstakingly built and protected for her, has your heart flipping and squeezing in your chest.

“Your hair is pretty,” she says, reaching out to drag her fingers through the long strands. She scoots forward so that her nobby little knees are pressed up into your lap, and she has a better reach to touch your hair.

“Thank you. So is yours,” you pet her hair back. She’s so sweet, so affectionate, just as easy to love as her father is.

She beams at your compliment, “It is, right?” Humble too, you laugh.

As she continues to drag her fingers through your hair, you can tell they’re still slightly sticky with syrup, she says, “Well, I was just wondering – well, you’re–” she sighs exasperatedly, as if she doesn’t know what words it is she wants to get out. You sit patiently, waiting for her to find what it is she wants to say, “You’re my Daddy’s friend, right?”

“Yes… yes, we’re friends.”

“Best friends?”

“Well, I hope so. I would really like to be his best friend, yes.”

“So then– then if you’re best friends, then that means he won’t be sad, right? Best friends don’t make each other sad, right?”

Your heart pinches, sharp and painful,“No, sweet pea. I would never want to make him sad.” You drag the back of your knuckles over her baby soft cheek.

“It’s just that sometimes I think Daddy gets sad. And then he doesn’t want to play, and I don’t like it.” Children notice everything, and they never forget.

You cup her face in your hands gently, she’s still holding onto your hair on either side of your head. Her big green eyes are wide and solemn and somehow, wise beyond her years already. Eyes that notice too much. The eyes of a child who has, perhaps, seen things in her parents that she does not understand, but that she knows are not how they should be. “Sarah, I promise you. I will do everything I can to never make him sad. Okay?” You stick out your pinky so that she can hook her little one around yours.

She nods, “Okay. Will you come to my birthday party? I’m turning four soon–” she holds up five fingers, “It’s going to be a bug party.” She beams. “But we can’t eat them. Daddy said. And we can be best friends, too, right?”

“I think we already are,” you whisper at her conspiratorially, bending your head to give her little nose a gentle rub with yours. Butterfly kiss, you whisper and her giggle is like the sound of spring wind chimes, infectious, the prettiest thing you’ve ever heard.

When you look up, Joel’s standing at the mouth of the kitchen, leaning up against the doorframe, gentle smile painted across his face, thumb tucked into the waistband of his jeans. His gaze filled with everything you’ve always wanted to see in the eyes of someone you love.

You and Sarah have been out in the backyard for hours. The game of Barbies now turned into dinosaurs and princesses, since it’s not warm enough for the pool and mermaids anymore. You’d changed into one of his ratty old sweatshirts and some shorts he works out in, the fabric swimming around you so that you’ve had to roll them up a bunch of times just to keep them around your hips. The neck of the sweater is too big on your shoulders, and it’s slipped down to expose the delicate wing of your clavicle and the strap of your bra.

You’re so beautiful, playing and laughing with his daughter. Your messy hair loose and sweaty at the temples, and he fucking loves you so much. So much it’s a physical entity inside him, an ache, a coiling, ravenous thing that can only be filled and settled by your presence and your touch.

As soon as he puts Sarah down for her nap, which will be soon considering the way the two of you’ve been prancing around and howling like a pair of wild hyenas, he’s going to lock you in his room and fuck you into his mattress until you can’t walk, can’t even remember your own name. Until the only thing you know is him.

He sidles up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to squeeze you into him while Sarah dances around the two of you, pressing a hot kiss to the sweat damp skin of your throat. With the arm banded across your belly he presses the tips of his fingers into your hip bone to tilt your ass into his lap, pressing the hard length of his erection into your softness.

“Be good,” you breathe, nodding along at whatever it is Sarah’s singing about.

“I want to fuck you,” he whispers into the sensitive shell of your ear, feels the full body tremor at his words jitter through your limbs.

He listens to your little whimper, savors it, “Behave–”

“Can’t –” another kiss over the soft shell of your ear, whispered right into the small bowl, “You’re too pretty.”

“Joel–” Sarah starts to howl like a damn basset hound, having her own conversation with God knows who. You snicker.

“So much energy, lady,” he says to her.

She gallops around the two of you, singing Shania Twain at the top of her lungs, come on over, come on over, come on over, come on in, something incomprehensible, and then, “I’m so happy, Daddy!” The widest, cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You feel his arms jerk around you, a muttered, fuck, and he buries his face in your shoulder for a moment. You feel the widening expanse of his chest taking deep breaths up against your back, and when he’s collected himself, when you’re sure he knows his voice won’t crack, he says, “Me too, baby girl.”

“Let’s all play princesses together,” she tugs on his shirt in the back, and then zooms off to her play house at the back of the yard, calling for the two of you to join her.

“She needs so much,” he says, and you know, you can see it. Like all little girls, she needs so many things and deserves so many things, and she should have everything she needs and wants, and you know he will do everything in his power to give her all of it and more.

“It’s a good thing she has you to give it all to her then.” He hums low in his throat at that, his chin propped up on your shoulder, watching her crawl in and out of her little house, rolling around in the grass like an overexcited bunny. He rubs his large palm over your belly. You laugh softly at the sight of her. Silly little girl.

“She struggles so much making friends… I don’t know why. She’s so alone sometimes.”

You hum, tilting your head against his so that your temples are leaning on each other, “I did too, when I was a girl. I think it must be some sort of complex gained from having a… a difficult mother, I suppose we could call it.” He huffs a breath of laughter and turns his face in to press a kiss to the side of your neck.

“I suppose…” he trails off, and is quiet for a beat, just watching her play. “You can’t imagine what it’s like having to–” another breath of laughter, this one more self deprecating, “To lug my ass over to all the whispering mother’s at her school, make nice and ingratiate myself, and ask if Sarah can be included in the play dates and birthday parties, and then having to evade the inevitable questions about why it’s only me they always see, asking if I’m single, where her mother is, why she never joins us.”

Your heart twists for him, and you try and turn to face him, but he tightens his arms around you, keeping you in place. “You– you’ve asked them to include her?” Your voice cracks a little at the end, your eyes flutter shut, this man, this gorgeous, good, amazing man.

“Of course I did. I had to. She wanted to go, and I know it’s hard for her, and the kids weren’t asking her themselves, little fuckers, so I had to go and get that invitation for her. And I damn well did. And then she hated it, after all that.” He laughs, “Had the mom calling me thirty minutes after I’d dropped her off at the kid’s birthday party – said Sarah wouldn’t stop crying and asking for me, and that she needed to be picked up. Shoulda never left her in the first place, but there were no other dads and I felt– I don’t know, so out of place and awkward and alone, and I was fucking selfish and stupid. But– I don’t know… I thought it was the right thing, that she’d enjoy herself, want to be there. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.” He clicks his tongue, nuzzles his temple into yours while he watches his daughter, “But no… she just – struggles to socialize or somethin’. I don’t know how to fix it.”

You turn in his arms now, tugging on his hands until he lets you, and wrap your arms around his neck, looking up at him. “We’ll figure something out,” you say and his eyes go tender and heated, all at once, his hand coming up to clasp the back of your neck. My sweet girl, he murmurs, and the two of you should, perhaps, be more restrained in front of Sarah, but it’s almost an impossibility, to be here with him and not touch him, to not let yourself fall into his arms.

She charges up to the two of you then, “I want to hug too!” He laughs, swooping down to swing her up over his shoulders, “How about I play the dinosaur that hunts the pretty princess?” and there’s still that blazing fire in his eyes as he says it, staring right at you, the most brazen of looks on his face. Your belly flutters and flips.

The three of you play in his backyard together for hours that afternoon.

“Hi, daddy,” you whisper as you crawl up the length of his body, finally a moment alone together behind a locked door, hours later, pausing to press your face into his belly and nuzzle there. Sarah hadn’t let him do the bedtime routine, she’d wanted you. Had asked all about your art, and if the two of you could paint together, and if you could draw bugs for her, until she’d finally fallen asleep.

He fists his hand in your hair and yanks your head up, “Don’t get yourself into something you can’t handle, little girl,” he rumbles.

“I can handle it, promise,” you breathe, already panting for him.

He brings his hand up to cup the swinging weight of your breast, “Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he murmurs, “You want me to fuck you, baby?” Yes, yes you do. But you sigh and flop down on top of him.

“Yes,” you say into his chest, “But I should go home.”

“Not happening,” he says and braces his knee against your hip to roll you over and under him. “You’re staying here with us–” he presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, down your neck to the dip of your throat. “Forever.”

“Joel–” you breathe, arching your neck to give him better access. The two of you’d said you were going to take it slow with Sarah, this doesn’t feel or sound like slow.

“I know– I don’t give a shit. I’ve been without you long enough.” He pushes his sweatshirt on you up your belly and over your breasts, rolling you slightly on your side to get at your bra clasp and deftly unhooking it with one hand, and then letting you settle back in place so that he can pull the cups down and latch his mouth onto your nipple. And oh, God, you can’t think when he’s got his mouth on you like this. “Don’t care if it’s too fast– I need you.”

“I need you too,” you whimper. He nips at the full, round side of your breast, runs his tongue underneath the crease of it, lifting it up to bring your nipple back into his mouth and flick his tongue, gentle and slow, over you.

“That sweet pussy wet and ready for me now?”

“Yes, I want you.”

“Should we check?”

“Yes, please, please, check.” He sits back on his haunches, pulls his t-shirt up over the back of his head, and then pulls his shorts and your panties down off your hips, pulls your bra off the rest of the way so that you’re left wearing only his sweater. You spread your legs wide, displaying yourself for him, and run your fingers up his belly to scratch at his chest hair. He’s so thick and solid. So strong. He could do anything, anything he wants to you, and you’d let him. Maybe it’s not right, or– or very level headed, to want to give so much of yourself to him, but you can’t help it. He’s good and loving and kind and strong and responsible, and all the things you’d always wanted someone in your life to be, and he’s going to take care of you and Sarah, you know he is. If he’s going to give you so much, then it’s only right that you return it in equal measure. It’s who he is, a provider, a giver, and you’ve taken care of yourself for so long, been so alone for so long. The knowledge that now you can let all that go when you so choose to, and let him carry it all – nothing in your life has ever felt more comforting or secure than this right here does.

“Look at this needy, messy cunt,” he croons. He presses his thumb to your clit and starts to swirl soft, gentle circles around the swollen nub, not yet giving it direct pressure.

“Joel– no teasing, please. Not right now.” You need him, you need to feel the heavy weight of him inside you. He pauses to look into your eyes, and he must see all the desperation, all the need and want in your gaze because he feeds you two of his fingers at that. Swipes his thumb once, twice over your wet opening and then slowly starts to press his fingers inside.

“That better?” You nod, letting your eyes flutter shut and arching your back deeper to feel him more, spreading your legs as wide as you can. You hold on to his wrist and roll your hips against him. “Fuck, look at you–”

“You don’t understand–” you whisper, eyes still closed, you can’t look at him like this, so vulnerable, an unbearable flush of shyness suddenly spreading through your body. You roll your hips against his hand again, and he starts a slow circular pattern on your swollen clit.

“What don’t I understand, baby?”

“You say you need me, but I– I need you so much,” you whisper.

He hooks his fingers inside of you, right against that deeply sensitive, soul churning spot that belongs only to him. He leans over you, one arm braced beside your head to hold himself up, “I understand. I understand because I need you just as much, more, more than even that. More than you could ever understand.” He pulls his fingers from you and you hear the clink of his belt and the drag of his zipper, and then his hand is clamping around the bones of your jaw, fingers wet and sticky with your slick, smearing along your cheek, you feel the burning hot brush of his cockhead on the slope of your belly. He holds there for just a second, staring into your eyes. You’re not going to cry, not this time.

“Joel–”

“I know,” he says, because he does, because he always has. He’s always known.

“I love you.”

“I know,” he leans down to press a soft kiss to your mouth, eyes open, still looking at you. “And I love you, and you know that too.”

“Yes– yes, I know.” You bracket his face with your own hands also, so that the both of you are now holding on to each other. You know because the two of you have always known each other in some way. His hand leaves your face to push his pants down, he kicks out of them, and bends once to lick a long swipe through your slit, groaning at your taste, and then he’s leaning between your legs again and gripping the base of his cock to press the head to your entrance.

Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, please. I love you.

He sinks to the hilt.

“Say my name,” you tell him, and he whispers it, right into the soft shell of your ear, slides his hips in and out, slow and deep. “Again,” again, again, again. Never stop saying it, say it for the rest of your life.

He slides his knees up the mattress so they’re shoved up under your thighs and his torso’s hunched over you as he drives his cock down deep into you, the head focused right at your cervix. It’s almost too much, it’s entirely not enough.

I love you, I love you, I love you, breathed into your mouth.

You shift your legs restlessly along his sides, pressing your heels into the base of his spine. You need more, it’s somehow not enough, you need– you need to look at him, to touch him more.

“Joel, wait–” you grip the bulging muscles of his shoulders.

“Lemme just give it to you, baby, let me, let me–”

“Please– please, please–”

“What– what is it?” he pulls back, but doesn’t stop the thrust of his hips, hooks his hand around the small of your back to lift you slightly off the bed, his own little bow string pulled taught. Fuck, he’s distracting. You bring your knees as high back as you can, opening yourself to him completely and he drives in harder, right up into your g-spot. “Fuck, yeah–” he grits through his clenched teeth.

“Please, please, let me ride you,” you finally get out. “Lemme ride your cock, I have to.” Please, please, please.

He flips suddenly, rolling the both of you over with his sheer strength, never letting his cock slip from your wet clutch. He settles you on top of him, your hands planted on his strong chest and brings his knees up behind you to anchor himself. He starts to roll your hips along his length with his hands on your hips. “How’s that, my love? Better? This what you needed?” My love, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan for him, nodding.

“S– so deep,” you stutter. You grind down hard on him, clenching his throbbing length as tight as you can inside you. He growls low and deep in his chest, an almost pained sound ripped out of him, and you open your eyes to watch him watch the place where he disappears inside of you, lifting his hips off the mattress to fuck up into you, moaning and whimpering, the muscles of his chest rippling with the effort. There’s a deep flush starting in his chest, crawling up the straining muscles of his neck. He’s close, you can feel it in the devastating punch of his cock inside of you, in the tense rigidness of his muscles.

“Come for me– lemme feel that cunt get all tight and wet for me, baby. Please, gotta feel it.” He brings his thumb to your clit and starts a pattern of soft swirls around it, focuses his cockhead right at that senstive place inside you and hammers into it. It’s so much, so, so intense, you wilt forward, press your chest into his and his big hand comes up to cup the entirety of your skull in his palm, his other sliding low on your back to press you down into him. You tuck your face into the sweaty, warm space under his jaw and let go at the same time that everything goes tight and wet in your pelvis.

Fuck, I fucking love you, he mutters again and again over you. He squeezes you tight as all the muscles in his body go rock hard, and you feel the kick of his cock inside of you as he starts to come. The searing heat of his spend extending your own climax to ripple and throb on and on.

You’re spent, wrung dry after, shivering and shaking on top of him, the slick slide of your sweat and come slippery between your two bodies. You lay there on top of him, digging and scratching your nails into the thick muscles of his neck and shoulders, trying to find purchase in his skin to settle yourself. He twists his fingers in your hair at the base of your skull to angle your neck back so that he can kiss you. He licks into your mouth, slow and deep, and the two of you stay like that for a long time, just tasting each other, with him buried inside your wet heat, feeling each other.

How did you escape faithlessness?

Like this, right here, the escape was in the pursuit of something new, something real, something beyond category. Faith – trust – between the two of you could only grow from here on out.

Forgetting had never been the answer. You needed to remember everything, to never forget so that you could never let it happen again. Like a child who always noticed and never forgot – you needed to keep that with you. The ultimate sin had never been the infidelity, the faithlessness, but the loss of the notion that love was its own category that set the stage for all the rest. When you remembered that, the rest fell into place as it needed to. You could not run forever, could not swallow the putrid truth of a childhood lost, a childhood abandoned forever – eventually it became too much. Eventually the only recourse was to look it straight in the eye and accept it for what it had been, forgive the tragedy of it, and then move on.

In this place, lying on top of him, his body tucked inside yours, you could let all that had passed go, find faith in new things, category in something that was beyond definition but that was still a monument of its own – a family here and now, with this man and his daughter and all the possibility for everything you’d always wanted for yourself.

There was no need for faithlessness when you had all this.

.Epilogue

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#somene's fic #Joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller/reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

380 notes · View notes

spikesdru · 2 years

Text

bangel + the day that never was

angel the series; i will remember you/ lord of the rings by j.r.r. tolkien/ moonlight over the ocean by marianna foster/ i’ll remember you by sophie zelmani/ romeo and juliet by sergio cupido/ sylvia plath

227 notes · View notes

artrevisited · 6 months

Text

Moonlight over the sea

Marianna Foster

20 notes · View notes

liviavanrouge · 4 months

Text

Main Oc

Livia Garcia Vanrouge Age: 16 Gender: Female

Voice actor: Kana Hawazawa Introduction Quote: "Be careful, don't get too close unless you wanna get pricked by my thorns."

Star sign: Libra Birthday: September 29th Homeland: Valley of Thorns

Dorm: Diasomnia School year: Freshman Occupation: Student Club: Horse back riding club Best subject: Animal Language

Fun facts- Dominant hand: Left Favorite food: Lemon tarts, Fruit Least favorite food: Lilia's cooking Dislikes: Creeps Hobbies: Fashion designing Talents: Horse racing

Ancestor: Queen Virda, Lumion Grandfather: Scone Vanrouge, Spencer, Mandrake, Tarza Grandmother: Mary Vanrouge, Honey Mother: Thea Vanrouge Father: Lilia Vanrouge Stepfather: Ambert Uncle(s): Cobra, Wolfsbane, Duke, Benjamin, Lilac Vanrouge, Jalor, Larkson Vanrouge, Jun Vanrouge Auntie(s): River, Springlily, Dew Vanrouge, Harla Vanrouge Auntie in law: Duchess, Sierra, Vinaya Uncle in law: Henry

Half older brother(s): Dylan/Andro, Felix Half twin sister: Ella Half Brother(s): Crimson, Cap, Juniper Half Sister(s): Arianna, Ozzie, Izzie, Tiki, Turtle, Lily Vanrouge, Natalie

Foster older brother(s): Ralph, Golden, Silver, Shadow, Kuro Younger sister(s): Meena Vanrouge, Jubilee Vanrouge, Willowbrook Vanrouge Adopted older sister(s): Silk, Lavender, Maria Adopted younger sister(s): Sacha, Moon, Tukla/Tuk, Helen Younger brother(s): Copper Vanrouge, Jasper Vanrouge, Wolf Vanrouge, Circuit Vanrouge, Iguana Vanrouge, Crowley Vanrouge, Dusk Vanrouge, Owl Vanrouge Adopted younger brother: Diaval, Tanwen, Ryoko, Zurden, Murdock, Darson

Cousin(s): Toroune, Rio, Maron, Marianna, Asher, Alan, Fidget, Vidya, Alan, Jabarri, Noalin, Barklin, Snake, unnamed cousins

~~~~~

Personality: Livia is naturally cheerful and enjoys being around family members and friends. Others state that people are naturally drawn to her due to her cheerfulness and compassionate behavior. She's very naive and childish, leading to some accidents(Getting caught in the human stampede from chapter 2 after Ziro tells her about a candy stand), but she is resilient and smart when she's not scared silly or having been tricked from trusting someone too much. She does have s scary side despite acting like a toddler and has been commented on by others that she's perfected Lilia's signature glare. She loves her family dearly and is protective of them, especially of Silver who is her favorite sibling out of them all, preferring to take the fall rather than them.

She can be a bit loud mouthed and accidentally sassy, having gotten it from Malleus while she was growing up. When she's upset, she has a sharp tongue and will do what it takes to get back at the person who thought it was okay to turn her positive emotions into negative ones. Even as Ogre she remains the same but plays no games when it comes to throwing down with the overblot boys. She's determined and soft-hearted when it comes to her goals, believing that one can reach if if they do their best.

Appearance: Livia stands at 5'6 which is 167 cms in height. Her hair color is midnight black with purple underneath, fading into a light blue, along with a streak of the same color at the front of her hair, but she ended up cutting her hair to waist length hating how long it was, and since she tended to stumble over her own hair a few times(which made Lilia laugh). Livia's eyes are a pale blue which is a sign of rebirth. Her jaguar ears are a bright yellow the same with her tail, but her ears are slightly smaller due to her only being half jaguar.

Livia, during the Diasomnia Arc, gets a pair of horns that curls around her ears. Her wings turn from black to a slightly lighter grayish black color, and now she always has her wings out at all times since her curse no longer affected her. Her eyes change from blue to gold, but is able to change colors depending on her emotions.

Her dorm uniform is the same as everyone else's residing in Diasomnia. Livia wears purple eyeshadow, done by Lilia, when in the dorm. Her uniform consists of a black all-weather coat with neon green and silver accents, black combat suspenders and belts, jodhpur pants, a small garrison cap, black gloves, and heeled knee-high boots.

The all-weather coat has asymmetrically colored lapels, with one black and one neon green. Both lapels have silver straps and buttons on them. Two silver zippers go down the center of the coat, lined with neon green stripes. The coat reaches below the waist in length, and the sleeves are folded up to reveal a neon green underlining with silver trim. Sebek wears a white collared shirt and black tie underneath his coat.

Over the coat and above the waist is a set of black belts with silver buckles. The lowest belt hangs at an angle, and connects to several silver spools of thread on his left hip. Between the belt and spools is a silver ornament, shaped like a spinning wheel. On the other side of the belt is a holster for a magic pen. The black combat suspenders worn above the belts have silver buttons and a unique cuff around the right arm that resembles a dragon’s wing.

The jodhpur pants are black with neon green stripes going down the outer seams, and the knee-high boots are black with neon green soles. The garrison cap is black with neon green trim, and the sides fold up to resemble curved horns.

~~~~~

Unique magic:

Emotion Weather(Formerly) Description: Livia is able to control the weather with her emotions(Happy means Sunny, Sad and crying causes rain, fury causes a thunderstorm, excitement causes a near drought, etc, etc), it activates if she chants a rhyme responding to her current emotion or current forced emotion ("Hail, Rain, Sunny, Storms respond to my sadness dear rain, bring a rain storm!"). It'll deactivate the moment she goes back to the emotion she's currently genuinely feeling.

Voodoo dolls(Currently) Description: Livias Unique Magic allows her to turn people and objects into voodoo dolls who become controlled by her and won't return to their normal forms unless she frees them so willingly. Her Unique Magic is revealed after she is revived by Meleanor and she returns to help the ramshackle group, Silver, Sebek, Idia and Ortho take on Malleus.

~~~~~

Background: Livia's bio father is Lilia Vanrouge and Thea Vanrouge. She also has several adopted older siblings and many younger siblings adopted and biological. She was initially feared by the people of her home, being labeled as a demon child, but she never let it get to her because she always had her family and friends love/support. After some time she started to be called the Friendly Hybrid/The Draconia's beastie, being seen as a popular lady of her hometown.

She was relieved for her mothers food so she didn't have to eat her fathers, but was pleasantly surprised that NRC's food tasted much better than her mothers.

~~~~~

Trivia:

-Livia is stated to be based off of Maleficents thorns but is also hinted to have a bit if Disney princess in her character

-Her childhood friend/pen pals are Kalim and Azul, being the one who brought them together as childhood friends before Azul meets Jade and Floyd

-According to Rollo, Livia eats lots and lots of fruit rarely ever eating meat revealing that she's mostly vegan

-According to Silver, Livia is bad at cutting her hair so he, Golden or their mother take over that job

-Livia knows kickboxing and is a master at it but she tends to be too childish to remember to use it or she uses taekwondo more due to knowing more moves

-Like Silver, Livia attracts animals of all sizes and species, and they tend to be her source of protection/comfort if others aren't around

-According to Crowley, Livia might be part of Twisted Wonderland due to her thorn control power

-Livia has deadly allergies to Honey Lemon Tea, the reason why is currently unknown

-Livia is by far the only character who gets included in almost all the events, getting many cards but is the hardest to summon

-Other students have commented that she makes Lilia's expressions perfectly and that she could be his kid or sibling

-According to Lilia, he gave Livia her name because he knew others would be envious of how cherished she was by her loved ones

-Livia has Light Fae blood inside of her thanks to her mother, Thea, cause her mothers father was a light Fae

-Livia is the first and only student to get her Unique Magic during an Event(Star Gazer)

-Rook is Livia's mentor, and taught her how to hunt better

-It's been stated by Malleus that Livia tends to overstep her boundaries due to the fact that he doted on her a lot, back at their home, so he invaded her space at times

-Lilia helped Livia trick Sebek Zigvolt cause he barely had any candy, which caused the loudest scream ever to come from poor Sebek

-Due to having Light Fae blood, Livia has emotion sensing powers

@anxious-twisted-vampire @writing-heiress @yukii0nna

#twst livia #twst oc #disney twst #livia vanrouge #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst disney #twst #twst wonderland #twistedwonderland #twisted oc #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland disney

9 notes · View notes