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gojipink · 2 months

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saying sorry 4 dummies

ஐ ft. childe, diluc, xiao

ஐ summary. how they say sorry in their own way after an argument!

ஐ warnings. none, SFW, fem!reader

childe

he stands at the doorway swallowing a little thickly at the sight of you unmoving from your spot on the couch, eyes glued to your book.

normally, you would bound over to him with a big smile and plant a kiss on his lips to welcome him home but the two of you are still in the recovering phase after an enormous fight, a fight that left a few scars and bleeding hearts.

“h-hi baby…um i got us some dinner!”

you look up at him with a little smile, “oh thanks, what’d you get?”

“i got us a whole peking duck and some veggie side dishes,” he states rather proudly holding up the bags for you to see.

“a pek- ajax that's so expensive?!” you gasp out standing from your spot on the couch, walking over to him peeking inside the plastic bags.

“yeah well…i don’ know,” he starts a little sheepishly, “i just wanted to have a nice meal with you after well…y’know…i just wanted to treat my girl, is all…”

you sigh before softly laughing, taking a to-go bag from him, “thank you,” leaning up to press a lingering kiss to his cheek, “it smells delicious. i'll set these up on some plates while you get ready?”

his eyes close at the feeling of your lips on his skin, feeling the gap the argument created between the two of you slowly begin to close. he nods wordlessly at your suggestion, not yet fully trusting his voice to sound steady, before hurrying into the bedroom to change and wash up.

you begin to set the table, putting plates and drinks at you and childe’s designated seating spots at the little round table across from each other.

coming back out from the bedroom, childe watches you for a second with soft eyes as you stand in the kitchen transferring the food onto big plates. walking towards you, he wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his chest firmly against your back while he rests his cheek against the crown of your head.

“honey, it's a little difficult to move with you pressing on me like this,” you voice, though you dont try to wiggle out of his hold, actually leaning back further into him.

he pouts to himself but doesn't move an inch until you're handing him a plate to take over to the table.

after all the food has been placed neatly in the middle, you both sit down in your usual spots.

glancing up at him you offer him a little appreciative smile, “thank you for dinner, babe, it looks really good!”

childe smiles at you and although you two have sat in this arrangement for ages now, he can't help but feel miles away from you. sliding his dinner plate and drink over to the chair next to you, you giggle at him knowing he’s feeling a little clingy.

“what are you doing, ajax?” you laugh at him

settling into the chair he places a hand on your thigh, his thumb lovingly caressing your skin, knees touching.

“just wanna be close to you, princess,” he shoots you his classic boyish grin before spooning some food onto his plate. gathering some duck and veggies and folding it all in the wrap, he holds it out to you.

“say ahhh”

diluc

he stares at the splayed pile of paperwork on his desk, words blurring and blending together while he sits, zoned out. his own mind torturing him by replaying your disappointed and upset expression over and over again. the argument was small, nothing more than a small frustrated spat between lovers. though, it affects diluc all the same.

diluc tried to fix it then, tried to apologize immediately at the sight of your downcasted eyes. But before he could get a word out, you mumbled that you needed some air and walked out the mansion, leaving him to stew in his own anxiety.

heaving a heavy sigh, he tosses the reports onto his desk and slumps back into the backrest of his chair, bringing a hand up to rub at his tired eyes. he just wants you to be home. wants you to be by his side and smiling at him and talking about your day with him. wants to hold you close and tell you he’s sorry for unloading any frustration and any stress onto you when you didn't deserve it.

a knock at his office doors breaks him out of his turbulent thoughts.

“come in…” he sighed, thinking it must be elzar coming in with something work related. however, when you quietly slip into his office, he immediately stands in surprise, the legs of the chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floors.

“darling-”

“i um…i just wanted to bring you something to eat.” you say softly, placing a little to-go box on his desk. “i know you probably haven't eaten yet today, so i thought i would bring you something after strolling around the city…”

coming around the corner of his desk, his heart melts at your simple yet caring gesture, “that's very kind, my love, thank you.”

“and um…” looking up at him a little shyly, “i just wanted to say im sorry for, well, earlier. i shouldn’t have gotten so upset and i shouldn’t have just left like that.”

“nonono, love,” hastily he closes the distance between you two, his hands coming up to rub at your shoulders, “you don't need to apologize. i’m the one who needs to be saying sorry. i shouldn’t have taken any sort of frustration out on you, you didn’t deserve that.”

giving him a small thankful smile, you reach up to press a sweet kiss to his lips which he happily reciprocates.

“to be honest, i don't know what we were even arguing about,” you whispered after pulling an inch away. he smiles and rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing to bask in your presence, “i don't either.”

heart two hundred times lighter than it was when you walked in, you pull away from him smiling, “well, i shall leave you to work then, ‘luc.”

catching your hand before you fully turn away from him, his face suddenly dusted a light pink.

“actually, darling, i was wondering if you wanted to stay? here in the office, i mean. with me. while i work.”

you look at him with amusement in your eyes as diluc ineloquently stumbles out his request, an extremely rare sight.

lacing your fingers with his, you step forward to plant a chaste kiss to his cheek, “i would love nothing more.”

xiao

his time with you is so short. he’s hyper aware of that fact. his time with you is too short to be wasted on arguments and silent treatments or have any kind of lingering tension. xiao doesn't have that much experience when it comes to dealing with humans or forming a relationship with one, much less a romantic relationship with one.

he shifts his weight from one foot to the other watching your figure walk across a shorter neighboring mountain top. he sighs to himself thinking back to earlier this morning when the two of you were engaged in a flurry of heated exchanges. xiao didn’t mean to take it as far as he did, didn't mean it like that when he called you weak, didnt mean to make you worry when he suddenly disappeared for a week straight. didnt mean to make matters worse when he had to leave abruptly in the middle of the argument because someone called his name.

“you could’ve at least given me some kind of sign! a note, a messenger, anything!” your voice becoming a little raised, your concern for him being overtaken by frustration.

“i didn't realize that that would be necessary,” he said lowly, patience quickly wearing thin.

“you were suddenly gone for an entire week! what else was i supposed to think other than the worst?”

“im not as weak as you!” he shot back, anger lacing his words.

“that’s not my even my point-” you tried to start before he continued.

“i’ve been doing this long before you even existed, i never thought i would have to report my every action to anyone!”

“xiao,” you sighed, hands coming up to roughly comb through your hair, “im your-”

he suddenly looks away, eyes alert like something else has grabbed his attention. he hesitantly glances at you and you realize someone must be calling his name. scoffing, your hands drop to your side as you turn away from him, “go.”

“y/n-” he sighed

“you need to go, right? go. ill be…” you loosely gesture to the space around you, “here. so, go.”

upon finishing up the errand that took him away from you, he now observes as you collect qingxin flowers most likely for a small commission to keep yourself busy. looking at the ground of the mountain top he currently stands, he notices an abundance of qingxin flowers and begins to collect a handful. he wants to apologize, he knows he needs to. it wasn't fair that you were left in the dark and if the situation was reversed, he knows he would’ve gone to the edges of teyvat to find you.

in the midst of picking a flower, a familiar haze of green smoke flashes before xiao appears in front of you.

“hi,” you say coolly, continuing to pick flowers while barely giving him so much as a glance, “what are you doing here?”

“i…” he hesitates not knowing how to proceed, “i thought i heard you call my name.” the tips of his ears flush red at his obvious lie.

you hum in acknowledgement, “i didn’t.”

“oh. well- here.” he thrusts the little bouquet of flowers towards you, “i thought i could help.”

looking at him and the flowers in surprise, you carefully take the bundle before putting it in your basket, “oh. thank you, that actually helps a lot.”

turning around to begin your descent down the mountain, xiao follows in silence.

“y/n, i…” he falters when you look at him, waiting for him to finish his thought.

his mouth opens and closes, his words failing him.

you sigh and look away for a brief moment before looking back at him with a soft expression, “its okay, xiao. i get it.”

“i'll do better,” he declares, those three words symbolizing all his thoughts. im sorry. i didn’t mean to. i’ll try harder next time.

you smile at him for the first time in what he feels like is ages, his shoulders finally relaxing.

“thank you,” you whisper to him before taking his hand in yours, “y’know, maybe i did call for you.”

his head snaps to yours, “you did?”

you look back at him with a teasing glint in your eye, “must’ve been missing you so much that my heart called out for you to hear.”

cheeks dusted pink, he nods his head in agreement.

#goji's.thots˚｡⋆୨୧˚#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe #childe x reader #diluc #diluc x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #childe₊˚⊹♡#diluc₊˚⊹♡#xiao°ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

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artist-issues · 5 months

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“At least it's not ferociously attacking God quite as directly as Steven Universe did…”

Not that I’m surprised by this statement, but can you elaborate on this? Kinda intrigued by your thoughts on Steven Universe.

Okie dokie, you’re not the only one who has asked me about this, so I suppose I’ll poke the hornet’s nest. 😅 I haven’t talked about this before because I assumed that everyone who wanted to hear my kinds of opinions on stories wasn’t watching or interested in Steven Universe.

It’s like asking vegetarian if they enjoyed a turkey dinner. The turkey dinner was so obviously not made for vegetarians to enjoy, so why would the vegetarian even bother analyzing the turkey?

But I think if some people are asking me why I think Steven Universe is anti-God (of the Bible) its because maybe they don’t know what the turkey is. Not completely. (Maybe not you, because like you said, you’re not surprised by my comment.) So I’ll explain my thoughts on Steven Universe.

If you’re just following me because you liked some stuff I posted, but didn’t realize that I’m a Bible-believing Christian and don’t want to hear about it, unfollow me now. Because I’m going to talk about some hot button issues here and the trolls will come out.

Steven Universe is really well-done. The jokes are funny, the writing is believable, the characters have great chemistry, great design, the concept is fascinating, the slow build-up and reveal of the plot elements is great. But when you watch the throne room scene in the last episode of Season 5 “Change Your Mind,” it’s alarmingly clear how much the whole show is not just settling for defending and championing the LGBTQ+ worldview—it goes all the way to attacking what Christians believe, on the other side.

Anything that’s pro-LGBTQ+ is doing that by default, but this show goes out of its way to do that.

You have to understand: God created and designed us. Deeper than that; He created and designed romantic relationships, and invented marriage. He didn’t just create love—He is love. So when humans come along and do what we’ve always done since the fall, and say, “I’d rather define what Your thing is and how it works for myself, God,” it’s not only an incredible slap in the face, it’s an attack on God’s actual identity—and it’s destructive for us and the people around us. Like a fish insisting it can breathe oxygen.

But Steven Universe goes beyond that. It knows that the Christian worldview is it’s biggest opposition. It digs right down to the heart of the worldview-battle. LGBTQ+ worldview says, “I should get to love what I want and be who I am, because I’m me. Love is love. (By which I mean, any action or relationship I choose to call love is love, because I’m the one calling it that.)”

Biblical worldview says “No, wait, you shouldn’t base your decisions on you alone; what you want changes day to day, and you’re broken, so you can’t ever be satisfied based on what you want—the Bible says God made you for something, and you rejected that, and it broke you. You’re not how you’re meant to be: even what you want and what you think love is is twisted up and can hurt you and others. But if you submit to God He’ll help you, He’ll fix what’s broken and give you new life by making you how you were supposed to be: He’ll live in you and through you.”

Are we beginning to get the picture?

See, the whole thing with the opposing views between LGBTQ+ and Christian people is as old as time. It’s not a new debate. It’s Satan and Eve in the garden. She says, “This is not how God said things should be,” and Satan says, “Are you sure that’s what He said? He knows if you do this thing, you’ll be like Him. You’ll be god: you’ll get to decide ‘how things should be’ for yourself.”

He lied and said that disobedience would satisfy her. That she knew what her own heart needed better than the God that made it did. That the very act of being imperfect would make her godlike.

And then Steven Universe comes along and says “if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs.”

And has a cast of created being characters who’s imperfections (Garnet’s forbidden “love,” Pearl’s obsession, Amethyst’s insecurity) are supposedly “the best thing about them; what makes them who they are.”

And has a main character who used to be a part of the god-like creator relationship, but used her power to come down to earth and completely change who she is into a fully different person.

And has a godlike Creator character who claims she “doesn’t need” her created beings (just like the God of the Bible) but they all have a little part of their creator in them so she has to repress their imperfections; she holds them all to a standard that’s impossible to reach called “perfection” and punishes them when they don’t meet it even though it hurts them to try; she expects them all to do what they were created by her for; she fixes them when they can’t meet her standard by shining her light through them and making them extensions of their Creator.

And has a main character who argues, fights back, tries to stop her, and is answered with lines that sound surprisingly like what LGBTQ+ people hear when Christians argue with them: “you’re only making things worse; you’re just deceiving yourself; even while you resist it your actual light can’t help shining through,” etc.

White Diamond just wants everything to be perfect. Like her. She just wants her created beings to “be themselves.” But what she means is, be how she created them to be.

And she’s the bad guy. She’s playing God in this show, and Rebecca Sugar is saying, “If God is telling us that can only be happy by being perfect, as He is perfect, and doing what He created us to do, then He’s wrong. Our imperfections are what make us special—unique—individuals—free—and there is nobody who has the right to take that freedom away from us, not even out creator!”

And you know what?

If God were like White Diamond, like Rebecca Sugar believes Him to be, Steven Universe would be right.

But He is NOT.

God is not a dictator who forces us to conform to a standard of perfection and then smashes us when we don’t meet it. He is a King who made us perfect to begin with, and we rejected him, because He allowed us to do that. He knew that true love was love that had to be chosen, and He wanted us to love Him by choice, so he gave us the option. But Rebecca Sugar doesn’t understand—there was never “Choose God or Choose Yourself.” There was only, “Choose God or Choose Nothing.” There was nothing except God. Then He created everything. There is no version of reality where you have something better than God, or even slightly less good but different, to pick. You’re not jumping from one ship into a smaller one, but at least it’s yours—you’re jumping from one ship into a void, and then complaining that there’s no other ship. That’s humans. That’s not God. / White Diamond didn’t make her creations perfect (Amethyst) and she didn’t make them for love. She made them for power. That’s not the God of the Bible.

Even when we did choose to try and love ourselves instead of God, and therefore warped our ability to perfectly love at all, He didn’t smash us. True, everything fell and was cursed, which is exactly what He warned us would happen if we chose it, but it was a natural consequence of breaking ourselves. And then He didn’t leave us that way. He didn’t give up on us. And He certainly didn’t just zap us, snap His fingers, quick-fix it and turn us all into robots who are extensions of Him, who say they love Him but only because it’s His voice puppeting us to say it.

No. He came to us, chose to give up His life at the exact point on the timeline when Romans, masters in the art of slow, humiliating, torturous death, would be the ones to carry out His crucifixion, and saved us Himself. Through the sacrifice of His own life. And even then, we still have a choice. We get to choose to accept that incredible self-sacrifice when we don’t deserve it, and be given new life and a relationship with the Creator who knows us and loves us better than we can love ourselves or receive love from others—OR we can just keep stubbornly insisting that our slavery to the opposite of what God wants is somehow freedom, and our twisted versions of love are genuine, and we’re not broken, and die like that. Die broken creatures who lived their whole lives stomping their feet and screaming “I’m not a creature, I’m a god!”

White Diamond sacrifices nothing, because Rebecca Sugar doesn’t know the God of the Bible. She just knows her idea of Him. She’s never actually gotten to know Him. If she had, she’d learn how silly and twisted her idea is.

Because you know what, yeah, if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs. But people aren’t pork chops. And hot dogs have flavor (not better than pork chops) but they are awful for you.

Christians aren’t perfect cuts of meat with no individuality or flavor. Just because we all know and love the same God doesn’t mean we have no personalities. It just means we don’t think so freaking much about what we are, or who we get to be, or what we like and want. Jeez, what a self-centered, narcissistic, self-obsessed way to live. She plays Steven like he’s this wonder-child, innocent and full of heart, who encourages his friends to love and keep trying. But honestly?

This is very pretty animation but it’s not real. Steven looks happy hugging Steven but self-love doesn’t ultimately get you that.

That’s all based on the premise that what he’s encouraging them to do is actually good, and will make them happy, and will help them love better. And it just won’t. Not in real life. That’s not how any of this works. Self-love is just self-obsession. And that is a sure-fire way to hurt you, and everyone around you.

You’ll never be free by choosing to run to a worse master. You’ll never be satisfied with your crappy attempts at loving yourself, because you were made to be loved flawlessly and forever by someone who is Love Himself.

And choosing to identify with your imperfections doesn’t make you uniquely you. It just makes you exactly like every other human being marching in the same line since the Fall.

White Diamond’s not relational. She’s up high and distant. That’s not God. He made you to be in relationship with Him. He loves you, totally and perfectly, and He proved it by sacrificing for You.

So yeah. That’s the problem with Steven Universe. Come get me, SU fans.

#Steven universe #su #Pearl #amethyst #garnet #Steven universe fans #change your mind #white Diamond #Christianity #Christian’s #asked #answered #thanks #rattling the cage #Rebecca sugar

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yunarim · 1 year

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hello! If you can, can you write a head cannon(others are fine) with the femperfect who had an ability to neutralize magic with a simple physical contact? Like the magic will automatically disappear once it makes contact with her so she often wears gloves, and I would like to see the overblots reaction(if you can't do all you can just do malleus ^^) thank you!

yuu can neutralize the use of any kind of magic with a touch.

… ✦ characters : overblot squad … ✦ tags : female reader, books 1-7 major spoilers, hurt/comfort, cursing in leona's and vil's parts, mention of blood in leona's part, jp translation terms (dorm leader, VDC), can be read platonically in all of parts except for vil, idia & esp malleus ones (i imply romantic way tho), me experimenting with the format or something … ✦ song : monochrome frame ⏤ kanon wakeshima … ✦ recommended : light mode [ … ✦ ao3 ]

… ✦ Riddle Rosehearts ┆touching . . . neck ⏤ ✧ Her wearing gloves wasn’t exceptional. They all were, and since Yuu didn’t have her specifically designed dorm uniform, indeed, it was quite common for her to wear gloves.

⏤ ✧ Riddle would often find her look around before washing hands and taking off her gloves.

⏤ ✧ One day he realized he waited for her to do that and observe if she hid something underneath this accessory item but ended up dispelling his own doubts - her hands were just beautiful.

“Oh, do you eat this with your hands?” She asked at an unbirthday party, glancing at a pink cupcake on the plate before her.

“Yes, as a rule. If you’re worrying about getting messy, do not fret. The cupcake doesn't crumble, and Trey made sure the cream isn’t too greasy and doesn’t stick to the fingers.”

Yuu smiled, taking off her gloves and wrapping her fingers around a small cupcake.

“Woah, such a nice taste! Tell Trey he did well.”

Still, he wondered, what was the mystery shrouded in darkness of her gloves.

⏤ ✧ Yuu was gentle in her actions, she never judged, smiling tenderly and telling him to take his time and not to rush things.

⏤ ✧ Unlike a certain duo getting on his nerves.

⏤ ✧ Never in his life felt he so powerful, so authoritative, so… valid.

⏤ ✧ Something underneath was telling him it wasn’t right to throw insults at her and just… yell like he was a little child, not knowing how to handle his own emotions.

⏤ ✧ Yet maybe he was, calling her insolent and foolish.

⏤ ✧ She was just a magicless human! Why rush to him, tearing her gloves off her hands and screaming something with such an obstinate gaze fixed on him?

“My goodness, Riddle, come to your senses!”

⏤ ✧ Her touch felt so ephemeral and light on his deadly cold skin, and even though his almost devilishly malevolent grin didn’t scare her, Yuu still bit her lip after Riddle’s phrenetic laughter.

⏤ ✧ A sudden flash of light made him switch his attention to what happened to him just in a mere second.

The overflowing power that pounded in his vessels with a burning seething abruptly left him in an instant, devastating his mind and body.

He collapsed, exhausted, to the ground, barely finding the strength to raise a pair of bulging eyes to her and exhale brokenly.

“What did you?.. Huh…”

⏤ ✧ He was at loss for words, not even caring about Trey’s concerns at the moment.

⏤ ✧ Light flickered on where she touched him, and he welcomed the sensation without realizing it.

“You… you do have magic after all?”

⏤ ✧ One little gentle touch, and all of his enormous powers are gone. So simple yet devastating.

“I would call magic not the fact I neutralized you, but rather…”

She embraced him, welcoming into her tender hug and encouraging him to let all his negative emotions free, and he laughed, hiding his teary eyes in her shoulder.

Maybe she was right, and this was her real magic.

… ✦ Leona Kingscholar ┆touching . . . shoulders ⏤ ✧ He wasn’t surprised that Heartslabyul little tyrant or what do they call him even was defeated with the help of Ramshackle dorm girl.

⏤ ✧ Women are strong. And that’s a rule.

⏤ ✧ But one look at Prefect’s hands got him thinking that maybe she was strong another way. Such hands couldn’t bring harm to anyone, he was sure of it.

⏤ ✧ Her rather adamant gaze on him was such an entertaining sight to witness.

Leona chuckled when she stepped on his tail. She did apologize for her behavior, of course, but he knew from the very beginning that she wasn’t entirely regretting her actions.

“I’m really sorry,” her voice was firm, steady and solid enough for him to fix his gaze on her a little longer than he thought he would.

“You aren’t, Prefect.”

“Do I know you?”

She didn’t. Yet he knew her after what happened, his eyes locked on her hands in an examining way.

⏤ ✧ A little thought of asking Riddle what the hell is wrong with her hands since no trace of magic was found on her. ⏤ ✧ She was just a normal girl minding her business, and it was supposed to be this way.

⏤ ✧ He wasn’t against her planting flowers when he was around since she remained quiet, her head full of worry because of those little accidents he sabotaged with Ruggie’s help.

He did know he should stay away from her hands.

Especially in that state when his own looked so rough, long pointed claws clenching in fists and digging into the palms, scarlet blood mixed with viscous ink trickled down his hands.

⏤ ✧ Such a reckless human being, knowing nothing about his disappointment, rushed to him without any doubt. What a joke.

⏤ ✧ Even hyenas turned against him, and would she even make any difference? Of course not…

⏤ ✧ He was trying to convince himself he stopped for a mere moment because she was a magicless woman.

And yet somehow she almost grabbed his hand, claiming he was being unreasonable and unstable and some other pathetic bullshit.

He brushed off her hand, knowing it would do something to him. Something he realized he wasn’t so opposed to accepting when she yelled out his name, this time putting both her hands on his shoulders.

“Do this shit once more and you’ll fucking witness my real wrath, Leona, now calm down!!”

He fell into her embrace, her hands still on his shoulders but not gripping them firmly. She sighed in relief, gently stroking his hair, and smiled.

Shit, Leona thought, laughing to himself and almost craving her warm touch, grabbing her hand and squeezing it, while dust accumulated in a sedimenting cloud was dissolving around them, so no one could really see him being suddenly vulnerable.

She was dangerous. And maybe he liked it.

… ✦ Azul Ashengrotto ┆touching . . . cheeks ⏤ ✧ How curious! A supposed-to-be-magicless human performing miracles with just a little touch!

⏤ ✧ He thought of depriving her of Ramshackle dormitory first, but now, after she bewitched Riddle and even Leona? No, he couldn’t miss such an opportunity to take her powers.

⏤ ✧ He could have everything one might dream of in at the snap of a finger, and a siren’s voice, a ballerina’s gracefulness, a mind of greatest’ scientists ⏤ one harmless contract, and a wish could be granted.

⏤ ✧ And yet Yuu. Girl from another dimension with that always gloved hands of hers. She was such an interesting person to observe.

He gathered information, oh sure he did, he already had two opponents down thanks to her, and he couldn’t afford being another one himself.

“How about your neutralizing powers?”

“Ha, you wish, mind dealing with overblots then?”

Oh, Yuu was amusing, indeed, but Azul just knew he would deprive her of her ability one day. Sooner or later.

⏤ ✧ Despite rejecting his offer and agreeing to do an extremely ridiculous task instead of having her ability deprived, he would still find her in Mostro Lounge, her fingers on the glass full of drink he personally made, her lips gently pressing to its corners.

⏤ ✧ A tender smile spreading on her face was quite distracting, which Azul wouldn’t ever admit, his gaze fixed on her delicate hands.

⏤ ✧ She was captivating and it was scaring him.

Ah, really, foolish humans, knowing about his past and making fun of his own intelligence.

He was working so hard, but one magicless girl suddenly got all the attention and appreciation he always wanted just because she could neutralize magic with a touch?

Azul thought he hated her at the moment ink was splashing everywhere, drops of tar scattered in splatterings, falling on her clothes as well as her hands, ungloved this time.

Mind dealing with overblots… right?

Part of him wished she would just touch him and they would be over it, but still he hesitated when she approached carefully, no signs of fear in her eyes. She was truly magnificent.

“Let me handle this responsibility, Azul,” she said, pressing her fingers to his cheek and caressing it. A flash of light turned him back to normal state, the only difference was him crying and leaning to her touch, as if starved for it. “And you please remain the way you are.”

And he will.

… ✦ Jamil Viper ┆touching . . . hands

⏤ ✧ That Ramshackle dorm girl having an ability to neutralize others’ magic with just a one touch has become an axioma by now.

⏤ ✧ Having any problem with the amount of magic used? Or maybe overused? Then no need to worry, NRC now had Yuu to handle all that.

⏤ ✧ He couldn’t care less about her, but still found himself thinking he felt sorry for her. He didn’t wonder how it felt to be the one everyone relies on when it’s hard, but other times forgot you exist. He knew it by heart.

… Huh. Or maybe not?

“You should give yourself more credit, you’re doing excellent. Always remember it,” she said to him one day, her fingers clasping around his wrist reassuringly.

An electrical impulse ran down his whole hand, a sudden warmth spreading in his vessels.

He chuckled, a small knife cut didn’t bother him at all. Why would she say it so unexpectedly thoughtfully to him when she stayed in Scarabia?

Everything in his plan was perfect, and yet her words distracted him for a moment. He was too preoccupied with his own feelings and conflicted emotions to handle her… care?

⏤ ✧ No way. It was not her ability he secretly admired for being so helpful. It was her shrewdness and the way she saw people through.

⏤ ✧ Did she feel he was about to do something malicious and not so praise worthy? Otherwise why would she say such things to him?

⏤ ✧ There was no way she genuinely cared for his well-being.

He couldn’t remember when was the last time his emotions were so tangled and complicated so that he couldn’t sort them out. Snakes aimed right at her hands she was reaching to him weren’t scary, and even the way he smirked when her attempt to touch him failed didn’t cause her to stop.

A small part of him wanted her words to be true but he knew all the things she said were a mere mendacity to fool him.

“You’re not someone else’s shadow, Jamil.”

He pushed her hard enough for her to fall on her knees before him. His anger spread in the ink splashing everywhere, but she remained her gaze fixed on him nevertheless.

He thought that maybe… maybe it was worthy to believe her.

He chuckled when he outstretched his hand to be shaken himself, and Yuu smiled at him, taking his hand in her.

… ✦ Vil Schoenheit ┆touching . . . eyelids

⏤ ✧ Good for Yuu she still managed to control her own psyche by dealing with so many splashes of demolished emotions in such a short amount of time.

⏤ ✧ Still, Ramshackle Prefect was complicated to him. Vil genuinely thought there was something wrong with his sudden desire to take care of her.

⏤ ✧ She was close to being perfect by now, despite having those horrible eye bags appeared because of sleepless nights she took helping Azul with arranging new drinks in the menu and all the times Vil caught her excusing herself during their VDC rehearsals in order to check on Leona or Riddle or whoever she kept an eye on after overblotting.

Yuu was wonderful, truly. But instead of appreciating herself she preferred to praise everyone else.

And Vil wasn’t an exception.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she giggled when he bent towards her face to apply a concealer. “A true hero, really.”

Hero?.. He? Ah, Prefect, what were you saying?

He sighed, taking her hands in his and asking whether he could take off her gloves or not as she nodded, allowing him to apply a hand cream on her skin. What a pleasant feeling…

“Even if you’re a manager, you’re still our representative. No way you would show up on stage with these eye bags of yours. And what did I tell you about having some sleep before VDC? You really…”

She smiled, saying something about having a bad feeling before going to sleep. How truly discerning she was at that very moment.

⏤ ✧ He couldn’t be a hero, at least her hero, when he chuckled so maliciously at her attempt to reach for him. Now no one could, he was fairest of them all, outshining especially her.

⏤ ✧ He applied a curse on her which restrained her from touching him ever so slightly, and that would be it until he willingly allowed it. He believed in his strong volition, but still…

“Every hero has their moment when they have a whole world turned against them, Vil,” she said demandingly, almost choking on the dark fog coming off from Vil’s body. “And since when do you act as if you’re such a mediocre character! Where’s Vil who would step on everyone and slay as a fucking queen you really are!!”

He laughed genuinely at her wording, not noticing her getting up from her knees after being blown away with the magic wave he created, and pulled him closer by a translucent veil, pressing a gentle kiss on his eyelids.

“I would prefer cheek instead, thank you,” he chuckled, light sparklets surrounding him. “You ruined my makeup.”

“You also ruined a whole stage, but okay.”

… ✦ Idia Shroud ┆touching . . . forehead

⏤ ✧ The one who Idia wanted to avoid the most was none other than Ramshackle Prefect.

⏤ ✧ All eyes were on her by now, and that meant he would rather die than talk to her.

⏤ ✧ If not only the whole STYX demanded him to get in touch with her in order to get the data regarding her ability, gather info on how her powers work, otherwise she would be taken by force and…

⏤ ✧ He DIDN’T want all of those at all!! She already swept every SSR character off their feet already, and now interacting with him? What the hell!

⏤ ✧ Ugh, not him actually spotting her trying to beat the boss in a PSP game. Where in the world did she find a working PSP even?

⏤ ✧ Her fingers were clicking furiously on the buttons… those were the hands that dealt with five overblots? Unbelievable.

⏤ ✧ Unbelievably pretty⏤ WHAAH he didn’t want to even think about her that way what the!!

⏤ ✧ Idia was avoiding her like the plague. Even after all things happening at STYX he still preferred to listen to others’ complaints and oh whatsoever important rather than facing her, but his responsibilities came first above everything.

And when he thought it would be hard to convince her to do some tests in order to analyze the data received from them she willingly agreed, smiling at him like it was nothing.

“Okay, but help me with beating that boss later,” she sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. Idia wondered whether her ability was helping her herself. “I’m going crazy right here.”

“U-ugh, f-fine… It’s not even t-that hard tho…”

��It is!” She protested, turning to him and witnessing pinkish hue flaming on his hair. “It’s just you’re too good. I admire you for that.”

⏤ ✧ Nononono he wouldn’t fall into that trap, he already heard enough about her being so unnecessarily nice!!

⏤ ✧ Shit. He fell, and fell hard.

Why would deny her touch when he would make her try doing it at least? He had cool armor, he was floating midair. She couldn’t even hear him properly when Vil appeared before her, covering her with his back and demanding her stay behind.

It was normal for him to behave that way. Covering himself in a darkness where nobody could reach for him, and yet Yuu could somehow. He jolted for a second when she yelled at him, telling Vil to step aside.

She still couldn’t touch him. He wanted to believe that no one could, but somehow the image of her fingers clicking on a game console popped up in his mind, causing his heart to skip a beat shamelessly. He was so pathetic and⏤

“I thought you would help me beat the boss, Idia, not me helping you beat the shit out of yourself!!”

She was insane for asking Epel to take the chariot and fly over to him, then leaning towards him and trying to touch him. She grabbed his armor, hissing under her breaths while he wasn’t getting her actions at all, trying to cover himself from her. From the rest of the world.

“Fine then! If you’re the final boss I should beat, then so be it!”

No, why was her face being so close to his, that’s bad!!

His mind blew completely after Yuu pressed her lips to his bare forehead and threw him onto the chariot.

“Did I manage? Will you help me now then? Hehe.”

“Sh-shut up!!”

“Make me.”

Note: never ever piss Yuu off again. (Well maybe just a little because she was so hot ahem⏤)

… ✦ Malleus Draconia ┆touching . . . lips

⏤ ✧ Yuu was a rather peculiar child of man. Wielding no magic powers, and yet Malleus felt something in her from the very beginning.

⏤ ✧ First he observed her when she was busy renovating the Ramshackle garden, she seemed so peaceful and collected, humming something under her breath.

⏤ ✧ He would bring her flowers every night without her noticing only to find her bringing blankets and a container with a hot tea in it and spending a whole night waiting for something… or rather someone to come.

⏤ ✧ “A stranger who brings me bouquets every night, please let me know you’re here. It’s quite cold outside.” She said one night, her gaze fixed on green sparkletts floating around her.

⏤ ✧ Next day he appeared before her, placing a flower crown he made on her head. Small gypsophila flowers intertwined with scarlet zinnias, decorating her delicate image.

⏤ ✧ “Ah really, why would you appear only now. With such a pleasant gesture even! Wait for a moment then.”

She gathered some flowers she had grown by herself, then took her gloves off and did another flower crown for him personally. Something fluttered in his chest the moment she touched his horns, smiling softly, and laughed with her clear sweet voice, recoiling after decorating his head with a flower crown.

His heart was pounding in his chest, his whole body shuddered at her touch, and in that moment he knew he was close to making a deal with the devil so that the lingering feeling of her fingers would never leave him.

“Would you mind teaching me how to make those? I guess I’m pretty bad…”

He chuckled, admitting he never felt something so pleasant and light before, as if her whole body was radiating something celestial, her hands feeling absolutely pristine and divine.

⏤ ✧ Every night they met she would tell him stories about what happened to her. So many students overblotting, and yet… The way she stuttered for a moment every time she mentioned overblots was confusing to him as if she wasn’t telling something really important.

⏤ ✧ He wanted to trust her nevertheless. She was tender in the way she looked at him, glimpses of happiness blossoming in her eyes every time he appeared in the garden, welcoming her gently.

⏤ ✧ He craved her touch, the image of her putting a flower crown on his head still lingered in his mind, never fading nor dissolving, remaining the most precious memory of her.

“You never fail to impress me, child of man,” he said once during VDC right after Vil overblotted and he arrived.

“How come, Tsunotarou?” he laughed at how astonished others were at you calling him by that silly nickname.

“Witnessing you have no fear towards me is truly a blessing.”

She smiled at him then, her cheeks slightly dusted with a beautiful pinkish hue.

“Having you as my dearest friend is a blessing too!”

⏤ ✧ Friend…?

⏤ ✧ Right, friend. And what friends are needed for?

⏤ ✧ Apparently, Malleus thought Yuu would be delighted to see him putting everyone in a sleeping state. If he can’t be someone even dearer to her, then he would be her most devoted guardian.

⏤ ✧ She resembled a fairy, telling him about her tremendous adventures, so it would be natural for him to tell her a fairy tale in return.

“Do not resist the temptation, child of man.”

His voice, so alluring and somnolent, enveloped her, her eyelids feeling leaden. He was standing right in front of her, looking at how her body trembled under his enticing enchantment. He knew by now he shouldn’t touch her, even though her eyes told him otherwise, begging to lean to her.

“Although it would be interesting to fall under your spell and feel that divine feeling, please allow me to grant you with a happy ending you truly deserve.”

“You… never asked me… what kind of ending I truly want…” Her voice was fading, and she could barely stand at that moment, but Malleus knew.

If she takes one step closer, that would be the end for him.

So she did, thorns enveloping her, but she managed to grab Malleus by his clothes somehow, her face being extremely close to his, his astonished gaze fixed on her, blurry and sorrowful.

“Perhaps a true love kiss would wake you up from this dream, Malleus.”

She pressed her lips to his, tenderly whispering those words and smiling through the kiss when a bright light surrounded them.

Malleus picked up her exhausted body, oblivious to the dissipation of his own magic, and looked at her worriedly, ignoring the slowly awakening students.

“Ugh… don’t underestimate me. You still haven’t taught me how to make pretty flower crowns.”

And she was right. “Indeed. That’s the least I can do for showing me the ending I truly do adore.”

⏤ ☆ notes : omg thx for requesting!! i got carried away in malleus part (a little bit.... kinda... forgive me for that) but still i hope you like it! ~

⏤ ☆ tag list : @isacoremeow

#twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #jamil x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader

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6urin · 1 year

Text

HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH! (≧◡≦)

Or in other words, reuniting with your first high school crush, Scaramouche, and ending up in his bed.

contains: f!afab!reader x scara, pussyjob, blowjob, fingering, praise, drunk sex, creampie

(* ^ ω ^) : minor writing smut !!

Scaramouche is commonly known as a nobody in college. People rarely acknowledge his presence because of his, "quick to be pissed off" personality. This has caused many to stay out of his way, except for Childe. He's your average jock, always throwing the hugest parties and pulling the finest women on campus.

These two are quite the polar opposites and because of it, the kind-hearted ginger is always trying to introduce Scaramouche to new opportunities.

"You know, you're super hot, Scara. I'm sure if you tried, all of the girls would be head over heels for you." Childe's words are slightly incoherent at some parts as he brushes his teeth, shamelessly standing in Scaramouche's room, dripping wet with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

Scaramouche doesn't look up from his phone from where he's sitting on his bed and mumbles, "I'm not a people pleaser like you, Childe." Childe frowns and states, "We could be the campus' power duo if you flaunted your ego more." He sighs before walking back to the washroom to spit in the sink and rinse out his mouth.

At that, Scaramouche fixes his back's posture from the slouching position. "What the hell is he on about," he thinks to himself, furrowing his brows together. It's true, that he has a big ego. But isn't that the reason why no one approaches him?

"It's because you're showing it off it in the wrong way," Childe says, as if reading his roommate's mind. This time, he enters the room with a white t-shirt and whale designed pajama shorts, ruffling a towel in his wet, orange hair while remaining eye contact.

Scaramouche scoffs and leans back into his bed, "And you're suddenly capable of giving me advice, why?" Childe waves it off with an eyeroll, "I'm just saying. You know, your ego is in the wrong place. It shouldn't be in your status, but rather your looks. Like I said, you're flaming hot!"

The cerulean haired male grimaces, "Your word choice is a little problematic, Childe." He removes one earphone from his ear in order to have a proper conversation.

Childe grins, "You need to take more pride in your appearance. You have a tongue piercing and multiple ear piercings; Do you know how many girls would die for a man like that?" He sits on the bed with Scaramouche, bouncing the mattress. "I'm hosting another party here tonight," Childe says, nudging at Scaramouche's arm.

"Aaand, instead of being locked up in your room, I'll try and hook you up with some girls." At his sudden offer, Scaramouche groans. "No. I'm not going to go through all of this just to boost my ego. I already have enough of my confidence as it is-"

Childe disrupts his sentence with a wail, "I'll even help you choose clothes! Just please, please, please?" He clasps his hands together and juts out his bottom lip. Scaramouche narrows his eyes in frustration. He scowls, "Fine! But if it gets boring, I'm going back to my room."

That's what led Scaramouche here, awkwardly standing while occupying himself with sipping on a red plastic cup filled to the brim with beer. Don't take this wrong, Childe did try, but he didn't try hard enough, since the second a pretty girl caught his eye, he immediately left Scaramouche to fend for himself in the middle of this ear-deafening party.

He swore, he could go blind from how bright and colorful the flashing lights were. Scaramouche just itched to go to his room, but he wanted to wait a little bit longer on Childe to return. His friend's return never happened. And so, losing a purpose to stay here any longer, he turns on his heel, bound to go back to his room.

However, someone by the entrance of the bedroom manages to get his attention. If it wasn't the one and only (Name). You're known as the campus princess with your charm and that damn fine appearance. God, who knows how many guys have managed to get in bed with you?

Scaramouche would be a little embarrassed to admit that yes, he has a crush on you. The only difference is, he's known you since high school, so it's not as weird as the other guys have it. The two of you were partnered up for the three legged race and even though you guys lost, you admitted that you had fun with him.

After that, you and him became fairly close, but just sort of drifted away when transitioning into college.

Ah, maybe this is his chance! He can finally make Childe proud with this...

"Hey, (Name). I didn't expect to see you here." Scaramouche rubs his neck, seemingly a little bit flustered. Where's that ego of his now? You look at him in surprise and smile, "Hi, Scara. We haven't been able to talk much, huh?" You glance down at your own cup of beer, moving it in a circular motion to watch the liquid swish.

Scaramouche fumbles with his words, "Right, um, how are you finding college?" He gives you a profound gaze. He realizes that you find it hard to keep eye contact, for some reason. "It's okay! Surely a lot more different from high school," you say, laughing.

Scaramouche doesn't mean to look, but it's hard to focus on your words when that shirt hugs your curves so perfectly and that skirt exposes so much of your thighs.

"Have you... gotten a girlfriend?"

Your inquiry catches him off guard. Scaramouche pauses before chuckling, "Ah, no. I've been more occupied with my studies rather than my love life," He deadpans at the sight of Childe making out with a random girl on the couch. "Unlike some people." The last part of his sentence makes you giggle, "I can see Childe's still the same."

Scaramouche hesitates before asking, "What about you? You got a boyfriend? With how much the campus talks about you-" You shake your head, "Mm-mm. No boyfriend." You tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear and sheepishly say, "I don't like any of them, 'cept for one."

Scaramouche's interest is suddenly piqued. "Is that so? Who is he?" He knows it's a little brazen of him to ask like that, but the curiosity was gnawing away at him.

You take a sip from your cup and shrug, "Someone. I don't know if he likes me, so he's better off as a secret just in case I end up changing my mind." Scaramouche clicks his tongue inside his mouth. You're so obvious to him, it's adorable, really.

This is the most appropriate time to put that ego of his to use. He knows it's a big step and a rather huge assumption but at this point, he's confident about it.

"It's me, isn't it?" He does nothing but chuckle at your reddening complexion. Scaramouche tilts your chin upwards and smiles. "Drink the rest of that and you'll be fine with me." He nods his head towards the cup in your hold and your hands go clammy.

You do as he says and he does the same with his own drink. Scaramouche tosses the cups aside and pulls you into his bedroom.

You feel all of your senses overwhelm you the second he closes the door and has you against the wall, one of his arms securing your waist and his other hand holding your neck. He kisses you, slowly and passionately. You feel his teeth bite down into your bottom lip, emitting a soft gasp from you.

The more you two get into the kiss, the more you feel comfortable with finally putting your arms around his neck, grinding yourself against his body.

His room smells entirely of him and his scent is absolutely intoxicating. You still remember touching yourself back in your bedroom during your high school phase, thinking of Scaramouche's lithe fingers stretching you out instead of your own.

"Mmh, hah-" Your tongue barely manages to keep up with his, Scaramouche dominating the situation with how amazing his ability to kiss was. His tongue piercing constantly pokes at your tongue and you shiver at the feeling.

"You're so..." Scaramouche's breathy voice trails off as he flips up your skirt, pressing two fingertips against your clothed clit. You whimper from the action and the fabric dampens even more than before. Scaramouche slyly looks at you and removes his fingers. You dryly gulp in anticipation as he places you on his bed.

"So pretty," he breathes out, lips hovering over yours. You're thirsting for another kiss, but he simply hushes you and puts his fingers inside of your mouth. You diligently suck on them, eyes half-lidded and pupils heart shaped. Scaramouche mutters, "Just imagine if all of the guys you rejected could see you whoring yourself out for a simple no one..."

With his digits now covered in the slick of your mouth, he pulls your panties aside and thrusts three inside. During that whole moment, he never looked away from you. You loudly moan, the music and the chatter from outside surely drowning out your lewd noises. Scaramouche licks his lips and goes faster, your cunt clamping down on his fingers.

He lowly laughs, "Good girl, aren't you? Yeah, I'm sure you are." Your view goes hazy as you pant, "S-Scara...!" He curls his fingers, causing you to reach your high more earlier than expected of both you and him. Your white substances cover his hand and he sucks and licks at it, making sure to finish every single drop.

The next thing you know, you're getting pounded from the back with his cock driving into your dripping wet pussy. Your head rests on the pillow, drool wettening the case as you let out mewls and whines. "You're s-so big, Scara! Mngh, mmh!" Your manicured nails dig into the sheets, pussy tightening as Scaramouche moans.

"Yeah, baby doll? Gotta fuck you 'til the break of day." He rubs your clit at a fast pace, drawing you nearer to your high. "Ahn! Scara, mm, I'm gonna' cum!" You whimper out, "Fuck! Mmh!" With one more harsh thrust, the blunt head of his cock plunging straight onto your cervix, you splatter cum all over his pelvis.

Scaramouche's mouth falls agape at the sight of you squirting and he instantly shoots thick, white ropes of seed into your womb. He gives a few shallow thrusts before starting up his previous pace once more. Sounds of soft slapping fills the room along with your heavenly moans and squeals.

At some point, he orders you to turn on your back. You obey and his cock stiffens at your appearance. Your gorgeous lipstick now smudged, clothes all crumpled, tears peeking at your eyes and your cunt...

He watches his sperm leak and pump out of your glistening folds, tucking his bottom lip beneath his teeth at the sinful sight. You rub your thighs together and murmur, "Scara, this is so embarrassing..." Scaramouche gets on top of you and places an open mouthed kiss on your lips, which you reciprocate.

"Embarrassing? No, baby, you're so pretty," he sighs, readying his tip at your leaking hole once more. Sinking inside you, he starts plummeting more vigorously than before, as he gets more turned on when seeing your expressions. You attempt to cover your mouth with the back of your hand to lessen your humiliation, but he manages to put it aside and lean down to kiss your neck.

You re-adjust your legs around his waist, whining as he bites at the sensitive skin of your collarbone, placing numerous hickeys and love bites. It adds to the vulgar pleasure and you realize, you would've never imagined getting fucked raw by your high school crush.

The slippery walls of your cunt start to spasm and you arch your back, crying out, "Scara! Oh, m-hah!" Scaramouche moans and murmurs profanities when your cunt clenches so tight, making him meet his own climax. He pulls out his cock, watching his cum overflow from your pussy.

Scaramouche cups the side of your face and slots his lips into yours. Your cheeks go into a tinted pink when you carefully let your fingers run through his hair. Strands of cerulean frame his pretty face and you feel as though you just got creampied by the most attractive and kindest guy on campus.

And he ends up staying true to his promise, fucking you until daybreak.

You buck your hips forward as he sloppily eats out your cunt. His nose continues to bump onto your clit and you furrow your eyebrows, moaning. His tongue is simply a work of art, the pink muscle entirely inside of you, making you feel the most amazing pleasures ever.

You say multiple praises to him mixed with your own whimpers of his name, your hands messing up his hair with how much you've been holding onto it. It's around twelve in the morning, but the party hasn't settled down at all. You're surprised no one has left yet at this time, though it's expected since exam season ended.

His head is beneath your skirt, though he could care less. All he knows is that he's eating out his first love and each sound that left your throat is simply music to his ears. Scaramouche sucks and licks through your folds, desperately moaning for more than just one taste.

He didn't want this night to end.

The following morning, Childe is completely disoriented and hungover. The only thing that brought him back to his senses was the scene of a girl sucking on his roommate's cock.

"A-Ah... that's it, (Name)..."

The ginger swore he was hearing things. Childe blinks a few times and rubs his eyes before slapping himself in the face. He sits up from the couch and yawns. "Shit, my head. Scaramouche!" He shouts out once more, "Scara, can you make me some of your hangover soup!?"

Noticing the door to Scaramouche's room is slightly open, he pushes it without hesitating. It's just another average Sunday, right?

Childe's eyes widen as he tries taking everything in altogether. There, kneeling on the floor in between his roommate's legs as Scaramouche is sitting on his bed with a hand gripping your hair, is none other than you, of course.

You whine around his dick and lower your head to welcome more of his length into your throat, the vibrations emitting a groan from Scaramouche. Scaramouche's lips are agape as he mutters, "Good girl, good girl... fuck..."

Childe carefully backs away and closes the door after himself. Apparently, Scaramouche wasn't the only one who had a good time at the party.

#purin writes :3 #afab reader #female reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin smut #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche fanfiction #scaramouche fanfic

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chosopie · 2 months

Text

BREAK MY HEART - SUGURU GETO

inspired by I Don't Smoke - Mitski , art credit: 1luj

Suguru was a man who was often consumed by thoughts. Everyone looked up to him, because he was reasonable, capable, kind. Your friend group relied on him, for he knew what was right or wrong, what to do and not to do. He was the anchor and lighthouse. He was selfless.

Every single day, he gave himself to everyone like an offering.

“Give and take,” people would say. Suguru would always give. He would always take the darkness—swallowing filthy curses everyday. No one understands how it feels and tastes. To him, it was like swallowing puke back in.

Who would have thought that one mission could permanently shatter an unbreakable person? He broke like glass. One crack, and it leads to a series of cracks crawling and spreading, leaving the whole thing broken.

You vividly remember the night he came home, injured and exhausted. He kissed you passionately with hot tears running down his face.

Despite it all, he had you. You did not give yourself to people the way he did, but you gave your whole being to Suguru. You had your heart exposed to him and every other part of you.

There were several nights where you'd try to comfort him, but you knew you couldn't fix him. It's not that you weren't enough, you just weren't the solution. For someone as logical as Suguru, he valued solutions and answers rather than comfort. He had his priorities.

"I love you, Suguru," you'd whisper to his ear, your hands tangled up in his hair while he laid his head on your chest.

His eyes stared into nothingness, his mind occupied with so many things but you. "I love you," he said, without even fully processing it. His mind simply read your words and he just repeated them out loud for your sake.

Soon, another devastating blow shook Suguru.

When the news reached you, you were in denial.

"Not my Suguru," you thought. Your mind was in a frenzy. He could not have killed all those innocent people. 112 people. 2 of them were his parents. It was impossible.

Maybe it had something to do with his very being, the way he was designed. Was it possible that consuming all those curses meant consuming all those evil thoughts? Something had to be wrong. You were looking for everything else to blame but Suguru.

Suguru now stood across the road, his face blank and his lifeless eyes staring back at you like you were a void. A cigarette was held between his two fingers.

At this very moment, the two of you were on completely different sides.

It was like you were in a car with tinted windows, and Suguru was outside of the car, where he couldn't see you. He was staring into the tint's darkness, while you saw everything clearly. You saw him, but he did not see you.

"Please, come back. I don't care how miserable you are. Just throw it all on me. Share your burdens with me." You pleaded. "I can take it, just stay with me!"

His eyes narrowed at you. "Why are you still holding on?"

"Because I still love you, and I always will."

"I wish you'd stop trying," he shakily said. "My love, do one last thing for me before I leave, will you?"

"Anything."

"Break up with me,” he softly said. A part of him had hoped you didn’t hear him.

Suguru was in so much pain. Remnants and pieces of him were scattered on the palm of your hand but you could not do anything to fix him. Once a lighthouse, now a lost ship sailing away from everything including you.

Now, you find yourself smoking to remember his mouth.

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idv-sunsxin3 · 27 days

Note

can i request a scenario with pavia, horropedia, and diggers saying i love you to them for the first time 👀👉👈

Horropedia, Pavia, Diggers // "I Love You."

Note// Yes, I finished writing this on April Fool's. And no, I don't feel like getting pranked, but I don't mind being booped by moots/ih😇✨️

___

"Y/N, come check this out!"

He was just about to talk to you more about the twin dolls he had on his gun at the moment he saw you enter the room. Noting the little details of their design, and even how he managed to make these mechanisms behave in such a complex manner of mischief to make them seem as unpredictable and intimidating to enemies.

He didn't expect you to suddenly say something much more intimate during one of these casual conversations you both usually share.

You were silently admiring the sight of his focused, intelligent eyes, the way his head tilts once in a while to inspect his work, and his incoherent mumbling to himself as if having some occasional internal debates. Until you blurted these words out.

"I love you."

His fingers halted for a bit once he heard you. His eyes stopped being fixed on his firearm to look at you. His features were notably shocked for a moment, yet it wasn't for long that they returned back to grinning once again. It isn't unsure whether it is because he's playing his cards again or not.

Nonetheless, his cheeks are lightly flustered with a soft hue. It could have been more noticeable if the lamp on his desk wasn't the only source of light in the dark room.

"I know." he replies calmly while throwing a sneaky look, "That’s very dangerous of you to say, though."

His observant eyes stare through yours as his face creeps closer to yours to the point your noses nearly touch. The statement indirectly reminds you of the several times he told you about how love stories tend to get disturbed by certain means of phenomenons, tragedies, and terrors caused by ruthless antagonists.

It is not often that lovers would end up happy together at the end of a horror movie. Sometimes, Horropedia would adapt these kinds of survival principles to real-life situations.

Yet even so, his hands find itself resting on yours. A strange sense of comfort sneaks through your skin by contact.

"It's bad for me... but I don't mind testing the waters with how long we can keep this up."

He interwines your fingers with his, as if they're meant to be that way... Just as the way your lips collide with his, the second he moved the last inch towards you.

______

"I love you."

You softly said it as you played with your lover's hands. You were talking about a sad day that happened to you with him. In the end, Diggers managed to cheer you up a bit with his words of affirmation.

"I fancy you more, darling."

He wasn't hesitant on replying sweetly, his eyes half-lidded and droopy, but his smile warmth as the sunrise. He rubs your cheekbone gently with his thumbs while gazing at you lovingly, as if his hands were holding the world itself.

Once noticing you finish drinking from your cup, he unspeakably pulls away from your hold to fetch the jug of juice for a refill. Knowing you well, a single cup of juice won't quench your thirst in a sunny day at a van.

...

"... it's quite new to hear that from you."

Diggers realizes that you finally say the magic words for the very first time. The thought of hearing these words from you crosses his mind, noting how he hasn't heard them from somewhere at all until now.

He had this dumbfounded look for a moment until he made a tiny "o" shape on his mouth. Before not wasting a second to turn around and face back at you.

He was wearing that same glance as if he fell in love with you all over again. Seemingly, they rather looked happier than shock.

"Oh, my muse... my love, my sunshine, my moon, and all my stars."

He gushes delightfully in a low whisper, clearly impacted in the most wonderful way he has never thought of himself. He has this urge to embrace you and flutter you with smooches until he can't feel his lips -

Yet having this tiny fear of scaring you away with any sudden advances, he only surrounded you slowly in his arms before he planted a lingering kiss on your forehead. Connecting your foreheads once he closes his eyes and hums with a soft smile.

"You're the loveliest gift god has sent to me..." He whispers as he cradles your head with his hand in an adoring manner.

______

You said it without thinking twice. Seeing him eat gelato with a spoon while still holding your hand with his unoccupied one was something special.

You slowly learn that he never had the plans to pull away at all. Not even whenever you take the initiative to hold hands, embrace one another, and start sneaking these whispers of affection in dark alleyways.

So after finishing the cold dessert, he walks you through the dark streets wanderlessly before turning to a corner. You pull him by the arm close to you so you can lean on him, but this gesture made Pavia pull you back and swing you towards the wall- pinning you against it.

"Now what, bella? Do you really want to stick around here?"

He sounds a bit annoyed by the tone on his question, yet the way he gently brushes his jewelry from his knuckles on your cheek says otherwise.

"Aren't you quite a crazy one?"

"Mm.." You hum as you lean on his touch, "I get that a lot."

"What are you trying to say to me now then, mm..?"

"...I love you."

You now sounded quiet but clear enough to the other. Your lips were close enough to his ear that he could feel you breathing softly against him.

"...?"

The mercenary finds himself dropping his hands from the sides of your head to wrap his deadly arms around you. They rest firmly on your hip and lower back while his back is now leaning on the brick wall once he swing your back around.

"..."

Pavia acts like it was nothing serious at first when he heard you, his eyes unreadable through his shades as he scrutinizes your face like a predator does to a prey for a few silent seconds. However, the tone of his voice remains inexpicable and probably a malicious mischief.

"Oh, you're dancing with fire, little daredevil..."

That's when he grabs you by the collar before smashing your lips with his, swiftly bringing you deeper into the alleyway...

"Two can play this game~"

Several days later, you find yourself being led by him to your house that is now piled up with a lot of boxes that are filled with gifts. Most of them bring a variety of different jewelries.

"I got them as souvenirs, but it turns out none of them are my style... Keep them. whether you like it or not, I'm looking forward to seeing you trying one of them~"

Obviously hinting that these gifts were bought for you;;

#r1999 x reader #r1999 diggers #r1999 horropedia #r1999 pavia #r1999 #reverse: 1999 #pavia reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 #diggers x reader #reverse 1999 diggers #pavia x reader #horropedia x reader #reverse 1999 horropedia

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notmaplemable · 2 months

Text

Mable's RWBY Redo: Volume 1 + Trailers

Hello hello, and welcome to my own version of FRWBY, but hopefully without the controversy. But I wouldn't really call this a "fix it" fic or anything. More just a writing exercise where RWBY was more planned out than it actually was/is.

Since it does seem to me that RWBY was written quite a bit by the seat of CRWBY's pants, at least in the earlier volumes. How much that changed, I don't claim to know. But there are a few things in RWBY that probably would've more impactful if they were setup earlier. So, I'm going to try to do that.

I will be keeping most of the major concepts of RWBY the same. Dust, Grimm, impractical but flashy weaponry, the White Fang and that whole thing, Salem, etc. But just because I'm keeping the concept, doesn't mean there won't be changes in execution.

There are also a few things that where the plan seems to have shifted at some point. Like the Raven plotline for example, it seems like Monty was the only one who really knew what he planned to do with that. So I might be willing to go a bit more "off the rails" with that specifically and a few other things.

I'm also going to try to keep in mind the resources RT would've had at the time of each volume. So I won't be immediately changing things to 22 minute episodes with 16 episodes a season or something like that.

I am, mostly, going to be taking an episode by episode approach to this. Though I don't really have any experience with screen writing or what you can fit into a certain amount of runtime. So I'm not going to write out all the dialogue and things for most scenes. Just giving summaries and a few scenes of particular importance.

Though I think here would be a good time to respond to a few comments something like this might get.

No, I don't think I could've done better than CRWBY. No, I don't hate RWBY, I rather love it. No, I'm not going to sideline RWBY for a bunch of "straight white male" characters. No, I'm not going to erase all the LGBT representation. Yada yada yada. If you don't want to read something like this, you are more than welcome to block me or whitelist the tag. This is more or less just a fun writing exercise for me.

I'm doing the ships I want though.

So with that said, let's hop right in.

------

Trailers

The red and yellow trailers will be completely unchanged.

The white and black trailers will be unchanged as far as what happens in each trailer.

For the white trailer, the change won't really be to the trailer itself, but more so something that changes things post fall of beacon. The arma gigas fight didn't actually happen and that's not how Weiss got her scar. Why? One fan fic had her get the scar a different way and I like it more than the canon way.

That's really it.

For the black trailer, Blake's design is the only thing that's changing. Now, it's not going to be a complete redesign. Mostly because introducing the rest of RWBY but Blake with their canon outfits would kind of be weird and require a good bit of extra work. I'd imagine at least.

So I'm just going to have her not wear the bow, and with shorter hair. Not quite what she had in Atlas though, probably something closer to Kali's actually. And add some white fluff to her inner cat ears to make them a bit less... flat.

Now, that does remove the dramatic reveal that she's a faunus for the audience. But I think the dramatic irony of only the audience knowing that can make up for it. And the hair can be a bit of a rough signifier of how long between the black trailer and her appearance in V1 was.

And just for the in universe logic of Blake not looking exactly the same if she thinks Adam is going to be coming after her. It's not much of a change, but it is a change.

------

Volume 1

I'm not going episode by episode in V1, since there really isn't that much I want to change. But I will be shortening to the volume to 10 episodes instead of 16. With the volume ending after "Players and Pieces" with 2 more episodes added to initiation. Which I imagine will mostly just be added action and maybe some conversation.

The first major change is going to be that Jaune still doesn't have his aura unlocked, but he knows what aura is. Or, at least the 5 minutes of research on Remnant's version of google's version of what aura is. He's gonna be looking for a way to have it unlocked. Maybe add in a throwaway like where he wonders to himself if he should ask Ruby to do it.

The second major change is actually something we aren't going to see. The reason why Blake decided to make Yang her partner, since she does seem to purposely seek Yang out in canon but we never really hear the reason. But honestly I can't think of a good enough reason at the moment besides Yang knowing Blake's secret. So we'll just save that for a flashback later and have it implied there was a deeper reason for now.

Everything else pre-initiation should be the same.

Once we get to the cliffs before everything starts, CRDL will not be there. Since we aren't doing jaunedice yet there's no reason to have them yet. We'll also have it stated that there are multiple launch sites and have Ozpin say something along the lines of "of the 200 of you that will go into the forest today, only 50 of you will pass," to give us more of an idea of the size of the class. Though the numbers can be changed to whatever.

Then things get started, everyone partners up, Ren doesnt kill a king taijitu because power scaling. We see Ruby and maybe a few others cutting through the unarmored beowolves, adolescent beowolves to be precise, with relative ease and start to struggle once the armored ones start showing up. To help with the power scaling a bit.

Jaune convinces Pyrrha to help "boost" his aura so he can heal faster. Pyrrha knows that's not how that works but goes along with it anyways. With her having some suspicions of Jaune, but not confronting him about it since... you know.

Everything else in initiation should be pretty much the same. Maybe with an extra fight scene or two. Ruby and Jaune are still named leaders. But we do get a small scene afterwards with both teams heading to their dorms which are of course, right across the hall from each other.

So, a bit after sundown the two teams go into their dorms, with Ruby and Jaune deciding to stay out for a second for a quick chat.

------

The two new leaders stand in front of their dorms, neither of them saying a word for a moment before Jaune decided to speak.

Jaune: You running up that that cliffside to kill that giant bird grimm was probably the coolest thing I've ever seen.

Ruby: You mean the Evermore? *Jaune nods* Well, it was nothing really... I just saw an opportunity and took it. You know?

Jaune: I guess.

Ruby: But your team took down the Deathstalker, right? I bet that was super cool too.

Jaune: Everyone else did all the work. I kind of just stood there hiding behind my shield.

Ruby: But Pyrrha said you were the one who figured out how to take it down.

Jaune: Yeah, but-

Ruby: No buts! Besides, a good plan can be the difference between life and death sometimes. At least that's what my Uncle Qrow says.

Ruby: That's probably why Professor Ozpin made you a leader.

Jaune: *Rub the back of his head* Yeah... Heh, maybe he made you a leader since you're so good a pep talks.

Ruby: I guess...

JR: ...

Ruby: ...We've been training most of our lives to fight Grimm and bad guys. Maybe learning how to be leaders won't be so hard, right?

Jaune: ...Right.

*RWBY's dorm door opens*

Yang: Hey, Rubes, what are you still doing out here?

Ruby: Just talking to Jaune.

Yang: *Looks at Jaune* Vomit Boy.

Jaune: Can you please not call me that?

Yang: Not until you unruin my boots. *Turns back to Ruby* Now come on, we need our leader, and my favorite little sister, to pick who gets the bed closest to the bathroom.

Ruby: Oh, okay. I'll see you tomorrow Jaune.

Jaune: *smiles* Have a good night, Ruby.

Ruby: *Goes into her dorm with Yang*

Jaune: *Soon after Ruby shuts her dorm door Jaune's smile turns into a look of pure guilt as he stands silent in the dimly lit hallway*

Roll credits

------

And that's the end of volume 1. Not sure when I'll get to the next volume, but it'll be sometime soon. V2 should be more detailed, and will probably end up being longer than one post.

So yeah, tell me what you think and I'll see you next time.

#rwby #mable's rwby redo #rwby au #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long

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tommysversion · 1 year

Note

Joel dream? 👀

( Tbh, anon, I figured it would be easier to just turn it into a short fic... Also the gif is 100% relevant because I have a feeling the dream came from both this and the very nsfw vid going around that is reminding a few of us of a certain internet daddy. Anyway...)

CW: age gap, unprotected sex, language, etc.

----

He's staring at you, gaze piercing you from across the room. You suppose it's somewhat your fault; the skirt you're wearing is far too short to be practical, but it's the middle of summer and there's no air conditioning. Your shirt - or what passes for a shirt - clings to you, giving him a nice view of your midriff. If you planned on leaving the apartment, it wouldn’t be practical at all. But it’s not designed to be.

"If you're trying to get my attention, there's probably easier ways." Joel always sounds pissed off, it's just his tone, but in this case, he sounds more amused than anything.

You're not going to lie; you definitely chose the skirt with him in mind. Or rather, his reaction in mind.

"I don't know what you mean." You're lying through your teeth, and he knows it, a half smirk forming on his lips at your denial.

"No?" He's sitting on the couch, wearing that denim shirt that clings to him, dark jeans, legs spread in a way that should, frankly, be obscene.

"Nope." You pop the 'p' sound, watching the way his eyes darken before he taps his thigh.

"Come sit." The way he says it makes it clear it’s not a request, not really. More of a demand. And here’s the thing; you’re so damn weak for this man that you’ll do exactly as he asks, without question.

You cross to him, obedient even in spite of your backtalk. He doesn’t say a word as he pulls you onto his lap, forces you to straddle his thigh. It doesn’t count as force if you do it willingly, but still.

Big, rough hands hold you in place, but his touch is gentle.

“Gonna lie to me again?” He’s holding you, but not keeping you still, instead making you rock back and forth on the rough fabric of his jeans. Bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You can’t even argue, not really, because the friction you’re getting just from rubbing yourself against him is delicious. So you shake your head. Another mistake; his hands tighten on your waist, stopping your movements. You whimper pathetically, because frankly you were starting to enjoy yourself, soaking your panties and leaving a damp patch on his jeans.

“Words.”

You’ve brought this on yourself, but it’s entirely his fault. He’s too demanding, too dominant, even without meaning to be.

“No, I’m not going to lie to you again.” You pout as you say it, but he rewards you by relaxing his grip, letting you resume your rubbing against him.

“Good girl.” One hand leaves your waist, slides down your thigh, up under your skirt to slip into your panties. They’re thin and lacy and entirely soaked, just from sitting like this, and he knows it.

He teases his fingers around you, his entire palm covering your sex, thumb and index finger teasing at your clit until you whimper, biting your lip to try and keep silent. Fixing you with that dark gaze, he slides his middle finger inside you, then his ring finger, curling them.

You can see how hard he is, slide your hand down his chest to stroke the bulge in his jeans, go to pop the button, but he catches your wrist with his free hand, not stopping his stroking of your soaked cunt.

“You’re not getting what you want. Not until you admit you want it.”

Fucker. You hate how he’s always so damn controlled, even with his gaze blown wide with lust, with his cock aching. You also know you’re going to give him exactly what he wants to hear, half because it’s true, and half because those thick fingers buried to the knuckle inside you are driving you fucking insane.

“You already know I do.” You admit it, a little put out by being made to verbalise what he should already know. Why else would you wear such a scandalously short outfit?

He doesn’t stop rubbing at your clit, palm open as he keeps working his fingers inside you, uncaring that you’re soaking him, dripping down his fingers and onto his jeans.

“Now try that again. Nicely this time. Use your words.” Honestly you’re taking all of the patience he has, but he’s not giving in that easily. He can’t help but be this way with you. You’re such a goddamn brat.

“Fine. I wanted your attention.” You wriggle on his fingers, lips parted in a soft moan. “Wanted to see how long it would take you to want me.”

Joel sighs, amused. “About two seconds after you walked in.”

He slides his fingers out of you, cups your soaked pussy in his palm for a moment before he lets you unzip his jeans, wrap your hand around his thick, hard cock and free him.

“C’mon then, baby. Come take what you want.”

He helps lift you, lower you down onto his considerable size. You exhale softly as you slide down his length, rocking your hips until you’re fully seated on him.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” One hand settles on your waist, holding you steady. The other slides up your shirt, gently squeezing your breast, teasing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Mmhmm.” You can’t actually answer him, already overstimulated from his fingers, his touch, the feeling of being so full of him.

He lets you take charge, lifting yourself up and dropping back down onto him, riding him while he bucks up against you almost lazily, one rough hand playing with your tits until he slides his hand round to your back, drags you into a deep, hungry kiss, muffling the sounds you make as you fall apart, cunt fluttering and tightening around him.

He holds you then, holds you in place as he bucks up into you, hard and fast, kisses muffling your screams as he pulls you down onto him, holding you so still you can’t move as he grinds into you, filling you with hot, thick ropes of his spend.

He holds you close, still grinding into you, keeping you right where you are, lets you catch your breath before he shakes his head, touches the fabric of your too-short skirt.

“Don’t let me catch you wearing this outside. Only I get to look at you like this.”

You manage a soft giggle, press a kiss to his mouth.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#answered #my writing #joel miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller smut #pedro pascal #the last of us

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Note

*Najma and Jamil passing by Queen Maleficia in the corridor*

Najma: Look, Jamil! She has the same strange horn headwear as your friend back in Al’ab Nariya. She must be his parents or something!

I live for Jamil's suffering 🥰 P.S. @ TWST devs, please release official chibis of Najma and the other non-NRC NPCs that I can use for my banner!!

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

Panic set into Jamil’s eyes.

Grabbing his sister by the wrist, he hurriedly maneuvered her to the far right of the hallway—as far away from the woman approaching in the opposite direction as he could manage. Horned and draped in black robes, she glided toward them like a ghoul straight out of a nightmare. Her face was a stony pale mask, as austere as it was lethally beautiful.

Najma’s mouth flew open to protest. “Hey, what’s your deal?”

“Not so loud,” Jamil hissed, shushing her. “You can’t just point and say whatever you want about people you see walking about campus. It’s extremely rude—and, in case you’ve forgotten, Malleus-senpai’s status far exceeds our own.”

Besides, the last thing I need on my plate is smoothing over an international incident sparked by my own little sister!! I’ve seen the storms that whip up when Malleus is mad. I don’t even want to think about what happens when a fairy queen is offended…!!

“Eh, is he really that important? I didn’t realize.”

“More than you know.”

You have no idea who you’re dealing with at all!!

“Well… okay, but I still think you’re way overreacting.”

Najma jabbed a thumb in the direction of the courtyard. A number of students, family members, and staff were mingling there, drinking in the balmy afternoon.

“What’s wrong with saying hi to your classmates’ parents? That’s what this whole event’s for. I’d rather be doing that than hang out with you all day.”

“It’s smarter to avoid some people entirely,” he insisted snappily, “especially when it comes to Malleus-senpai and matters of family.”

His parents are already…

A page from a Magic History textbook came to Jamil’s mind. The story of the great Draconian line—and how mightily they fell, consumed by the flames of war. All that remained among the ashes were the yet unborn crown prince and the queen of the previous generation.

Maleficia.

“You there.”

Jamil and Najma jumped, the two of them almost smacking right into a wall.

The horned woman had materialized a few feet away, her petrifying stare fixed on the duo. Her gaze seemed to swallow all light and color, peering at the children from an unnamed abyss.

A shiver raced down Jamil’s spine.

He instinctively placed himself in front of his sister, adopting his “business professional” voice. “Yes, ma’am? How may I help you?”

Najma rolled her eyes. She stepped out from behind Jamil and flashed a sweet smile. “Hello! I’m Najma Viper, and this worrywart here’s my big bro, Jamil.”

He shot her a glare.

Maleficia inclined her head. After a thoughtful pause, she said, “Might you two be acquainted with my grandson? I’m meant to meet him at his dormitory. However, I’m afraid that the flow of time has eluded me, and I’ve yet to locate our designated meeting place. I must have passed by this corridor no less than ten times now.”

Her lips pulled back, forming a wry expression—as if she knew something they didn’t. “I’ve approached others to inquire about this matter, but they’re all in such a hurry to retreat when I draw near.

“But here I come upon fearless children of man like yourselves, so bold as to whisper of my grandson in my presence. Such audacious youths.”

She made no further moves, but Jamil felt the space between him and the wall shrink with each passing millisecond.

Stay calm. You can deal with this. Just divert her attention by giving her the directions she wants. Crisis averted.

Jamil cleared his throat. “If you’re looking for the Mirror Chamber, it’s…”

“You mean Malleus, right?” Najma interrupted, her dark eyes sparkling. “Yes, I’ve met him once! He’s one of Jamil’s friends that visited Silk City for our annual fireworks festival. We shopped around in the local bazaars and had so much fun together! Right, Jamil?”

“I wouldn’t call us friends per se,” he countered, the tight leash he kept on his annoyance momentarily slipping.

“Oh, don’t be so modest. They know each other sooo well, miss!” Najma continued. “In fact, Jamil could totally escort you to Malleus himself.”

“Najma,” he warned through gritted teeth, “that’s enough.”

"You, boy. Does she speak the truth?"

"Please forgive her!! She has a bad habit of overembellishing her stories."

"Wow," Najma said flatly. "Are you calling your cute baby sister a liar?"

You traitorous SNAKE!! It took every ounce of energy in him to choke the words down. Jamil scrambled to save face, to prevent the situation from further spiraling out of his control.

"It's true that I'm familiar with this campus, but I cannot say that I'm familiar with Malleus-senpai. He is a well-respected upperclassman that I have had few opportunities to engage with on a personal level."

Maleficia regarded the Viper siblings carefully. She raised a hand and pointing a dagger-like nail at the two.

"You shall both show me to him," Maleficia boomed. Outside, the sky flickered and momentarily darkened.

His resistance crumbled, and he gave in. "Y-Yes, ma'am!!"

"And furthermore..." The fairy's fingers curled into her palm. Her entire hand ignited with a hauntingly emerald fire. Green light spilled over Maleficia's stern features and painted the hallway.

Najma's jaw went slack.

Jamil flinched, bracing himself for a devastating display of magic. Punishment for stepping out of line.

Suddenly, the flames went out and Maleficia unfurled her fingers. Now in her hand was a thick stack of small but detailed paintings. The topmost one featured what appeared to be a large egg.

Najma and Jamil exchanged confused looks.

"It is unfortunate that you've not had the chance to intimately engage with Malleus," Maleficia lamented, plucking up the image of the egg. Beneath it was a painting of a green-eyed infant with raven hair and horns not unlike her own.

"Th-That's..." Jamil stammered, struggling to keep his words steady.

Maleficia smiled mischievously with her teeth. "It falls to me as his guardian to educate you on my grandson's charms. Come, I will enlighten you on our stroll to his dormitory."

"Oh... Um, okay?" Najma glanced at her brother, eyebrows raised.

"I... I suppose that's fine," Jamil replied defeatedly.

He so desperately wished to let his shoulders slump, and to hang his head--but no, not in the presence of fairy royalty. Expressing his frustrations would have to come another time.

How... How did I even end up in this mess?!

#Jamil Viper #Najma Viper #twst #twisted wonderland #Maleficia Draconia #disney twisted wonderland #NRC Family Day #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #twisted wonderland scenarios

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glaucouscherubim · 4 months

Text

This was an unfinished draft for the stereotypical horror movie yan. so this would contain some early designs and mannerisms.

TW: possibility of bad grammar, i only have a baby sis so idk how twins are supposed to talk.

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

“Hey!hey!hey!” A hand slaps the back of your head. You could recognize that voice from anywhere and everywhere.

As you look up you could see the bright smile on the quarterback. Blonde hair that could place Rapunzel to shame and blue eyes.

You greet Damien. Honestly, you don’t even know how the two of you became friends… or relate to each other in any way. He just greeted you one day during your freshman year and he’s been attached to you ever since.

“Shit. Hey, you got some liner?” The blonde whips her hair back. Thick and wavy. Pink lipgloss on her plump lips. The cheer team captain. Walking with you and Damien to the club room.

“Hey sis!” Damien greets her with the bright smile. “What’s up, dipshit.” She greets back, fixing her eyeliner with a pen.

You don’t know how you and Roxie got along either…

She smiles at you through her compact mirror. Snapping it shut and smiling at you, “Hey, babe~.”

You could only shyly greet back.

“What was with that yelling last night anyways?” Roxie sighs, “Screaming in your room. I couldn’t get any sleep, at all! I wouldn’t doubt it if you brought some girl and sneaked her into our house!”

And it’s time for you to stop listening to the conversation…

“What!?” Damien visibly tenses up, flustered, “I would never!” Scratching his neck, “It’s just that Corey’s kinda mad that we lost the game by one point….”

“Corey’s mad at everything, Dami.” Roxie scoffs, “That isn’t something to ruin my night skincare routine over.”

There was a moment of silence until their eyes glanced at you. Piercing into your soul with those demonic blue eye stares.

“You know…..” Damien pulls you closer to him, a hand around your shoulders, “You should really come to one of our games…. I would do better if you’d cheer for me….”

“Yeah….” Roxie adds on, holding you by your waist, “You’d definitely help him do better… and I wouldn’t mind having someone to cheer with me as well…..”

Squished between the two Siblings, you try to get away. Suggesting that you would rather not be there since how busy you were.

“Come on, Babe…” Roxie whines, “We could just pay Eros to do your work or something! Come on!”

“Please?” They both look at you with puppy dog eyes, pleading as you escape their grasp. Finding an escape to your club room.

You apologize and shut the door, bidding them away.

“Fine!” You hear them tell you with a smile, “Have fun at the chess club or whatever!”

The club room was dark as always. Screens among screens and screens. A few chess pieces scattered across. And the holy grail, a bulletin board of all the students (alive and dead) with news files and stolen documents.

A black haired student typing away on the keyboard.

#xreader #yandere x reader #yandere male oc #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere #tw yandere #male yandere #female yandere #x female reader #x female y/n #yandere x female reader #yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #yandere cheerleader #yandere jock

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detachedminxsfics · 7 months

Text

Spit Pt. IX

Spit Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Characters: Negan x Alexandrian F!Reader, The Commonwealth

Summary: Your temper lands you in hot water with the Warden leaving you and Negan to find a way to relieve some tension. Set in the events of S11 E22.

Word count: 6.2K

Warnings: NSFW - Physical violence, vaginal sex, very brief blood play, xtra DILFy S11 Negan

A/N: Oh boy. It has been MONTHS since I last updated and I always think that people are done with this fanfic until one of you comments every now and again and reminds me just how loved this fanfic still is. 😭 So here's me trying to push past writers block and get this outta the drafts with the hopes it'll motivate me to finish the next part sooner. 🤞

The beam of a flashlight being shone directly at your face startled you from your surprisingly deep sleep, the focused light burning your freshly open eyes leaving you squinting and blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear the light-induced shapes floating in your vision. You sat up and instinctively shielded your eyes.

"Alright, alright shit. I'm up." You snapped, and the soldier finally moved on and directed it elsewhere.

You didn't remember much after you got off the bus, the temporary amnesia causing you to observe where you were. They'd set up buildings throughout Alexandria to serve as accommodation for the 'prisoners', yours being a small barn jam-packed with uncomfortable bunk beds filled with springs that had been digging into your back all night.

"Move it, prisoner."

You stood to your feet, resisting the need to shoot the soldier a cold, murderous glare and let your feet carry you outside. It was freezing. Whilst he led you to a designated area you found your mind wandering as you tried to ignore the disturbing truth that you were being held captive in your own home. He was trudging you down a path you'd walked thousands of times over several years, a path walked side by side with people so close you considered them family, and the cruel persistence of some sort of homesickness takes up the forefront of your mind. You were home but it wasn't yours anymore; it was alienating to say the least. The only thing you were relieved by was seemingly no sight of Maggie, Lydia, Rosita and a few of the others. They were still out there somewhere, and they'd find their way back to you all soon enough. He led you to a point in the woods outside the perimeter and ordered you to haul logs to and from the wood chopping station, your destination being a rather large wheelbarrow around half a mile from where you had to retrieve the logs in the first place. How convenient. You propped the first hunk of wood on your shoulder, wincing a little from the way it weighed down on you and caused a sharp pain to shoot through the crook of your neck, and started to walk. You largely underestimated how the added physical task would encumber you and just how much that would prolong an otherwise relatively short trip, the ache forming in your neck getting more intense by the minute. With your eyes having been fixed to the ground and the assortment of leaves crunching beneath your boots you glanced up, your breath hitching when you saw him. Negan was on his way back, his empty hands and the direction he was heading in suggesting that you'd been put on the same post. His eyes wandered towards yours, locking in an intense, concerned stare. The strain on your body was written all over your features and when he got close enough he prompted you to stop, carefully putting his arm out in front of you.

"Hey hey, just put it down."

You narrowed your eyes at him, and some of the fear from the thought of being seen talking to him fed your brusque and unappreciative tone.

"I got it, move Negan."

Negan rolled his eyes and reached out to lift it from your shoulders, propping it onto his own and causing your grip to naturally loosen on it. You hissed at the sudden removal of weight from your shoulder, the relief undeniable, and your eyes met his. He supported the end of the log with one hand, his free hand lifting to pass over the side of your neck and to your shoulder, applying a slight pressure that alleviated some of the tension in your muscles whilst a soft smile teased at his lips.

"There's no use in you pulling a muscle. Go get a smaller one and I'll take this. Hell, I'll even walk you back."

You briefly surveyed the surrounding forestry to ensure you couldn't be seen and then shook your head with a small laugh.

"I can't ask you to do that. Besides, you're not getting any younger, Negan. You probably need the slack more than me."

It was a playful insight, but plenty of sincerity as to whether Negan should be going out of his way to help you or not.

"I weren't asking, I'm telling baby."

When he stood before you like this, the eyes that once cast sheer terror over you now kind and full of light. And his lips, the ones that once smiled as he bludgeoned your found family to an early grave now tempting, the need to feel them moving against yours wildly contrasting their otherwise dark past, his dark past, it left you submerged in utter conflict. The further you plunged into the rabbit hole that was the man before you, the closer you got to having to explain this to the one person you loved most, the woman that Negan had undoubtedly devastated for life in one night. It was an impossible task.

"C'mon, let's make a move before we get our asses caught."

He started a slow walk back, and you smiled a little before following shortly after.

For what it was worth, the day was running quite smoothly. It turns out Negan managed to sweet talk Ezekiel into forming some sort of union, and you'd gotten willingly roped into the plan they'd laid out. Negan was in charge of the piece of cloth mapping out the footpath of the soldiers and detailing the times of their shifts, a responsibility that you were surprised they had trusted him with. So when Magna pulled you aside and whispered an update on the soldier's positioning before moving on you knew it was your job to pass the information onto Negan, something you weren't surprised by being tasked with considering you'd been mostly working on the same post all morning, which placed you closest to him. You bide your time, sparing the troops in the surrounding area a quick glance to see where their attention was directed, and then seized the moment the second the nearest's head turned. Negan was standing by the workbench, back facing you as you moved to him in fast steps, your fingers closing around the crook of his arm as you leaned in.

"Two in the perimeter and four inside." You whispered into his ear.

He kept his line of sight straight ahead to seem more inconspicuous and muttered an 'okay', your fingers trailing down his arm to trace over the sleeve of his black hoodie as they lingered for a little longer than they should have, and then you parted from him. It was only a brief trip in Negan's direction, but supposedly long enough to make the nearest geared-up lackey feel as though you were slacking. You'd been sifting through a heap of junk nearby, your job being to separate any rock and place it in a bucket lying on the ground next to you. Twigs and the occasional rubble would dig into your knees whilst you knelt on the forest floor, the leaves it was blanketed with doing nothing to alleviate the both physical and mental discomfort of the repetitive, tiresome task you'd been repeating for at least the last hour. So when you returned to the spot you'd made for yourself on the ground to discover a soldier pointedly waiting for you, the narrow of his eyes just daring you to take accountability for your unfinished work, you knew you were in for it.

"This is yours, right prisoner?" He gestured down to the bucket on the ground with the tilt of his head, and you gave a silent, composed nod.

You should've seen it then, the cruelty flitting through his stare. Carelessly he raised his boot and kicked it over, a slight clang ringing out as the sole of his shoe collided with the metal, and the tumbling of rocks poured out onto the ground at his feet. Your hard work. Your fists clenched, the resentment coursing through your veins. He just looked at you like you were an idiot.

"Well, go on prisoner. Pick it up."

It was sadistic, as though he got off on the power of forcing you into having to get on your hands and knees to fix the mess he made like you were some kind of animal. You kept your mouth closed, demonstrating some restraint. Besides, the silent glare you gave was perfectly 'go fuck yourself' enough, it hardly needed to be paired with words. When it was obvious you had no intention of getting onto the ground he stepped forward enough to reach past you and grasped the collar of your shirt, using the grip on the fabric to yank you down to the ground, the material choking you slightly on the way down. You landed on the floor with a thud, sticks digging into your skin from having fallen with flattened palms to protect your face from a similar fate, the now broken skin on some parts of your fingers making you hiss. You took a moment just to find your bearings, your stare fixed on the scattered rocks in front of you as you processed what had just happened, and then felt it. Rage. Your hands shook, and all your composure was gone in a moment.

"You put your hands on me again and I'll break your fucking fingers." It was flat, straight to the point.

You were giving him an out, an opportunity to avoid the temptation of the rocks in front of you, and what it would feel like to crack it against the skull of his pitifully empty head. There was a pause, and you glimpsed up at him curious as to the nature of his silence. You shouldn't have, the bastard was smiling, practically ecstatic with having provoked you into losing your shit.

"That kind of talk is perfect to earn a talk with the warden, prisoner. Anything else?"

You snapped. You had enough sense not to bludgeon him to death, but not enough to not pounce on him. You tackled him to the ground, hovering above him similar to the confrontation you'd had with that man in the Claimers all those years ago, except this time there'd be no turned tables, no chance of letting him overpower you. He wasn't even wearing his helmet, the opportunity practically presenting itself. You delivered your first blow, bringing your fist down against the side of his face, then another, and another, until you were wildly bringing your knuckles against his face over and over, the adrenaline numbing the soon-to-be ache in your knuckles. Despite the sound of ringing in your ears, the white noise muting and dampening your senses, you could discern the many sets of quickened footsteps approaching you, the warning of an oncoming storm of soldiers, but you didn't give a shit. The feel of arms hooking under yours to hoist you away from the altercation was the last thing you expected, your initial means to thrash and attack whoever would attempt to stop you getting lost with the feel of his arms wrapping around your body, and you turned your head to confirm exactly who those limbs belonged to. Negan spared you a worried glance before directing his attention straight ahead, watching the soldiers flood in to assist their bloodied and beaten comrade on the floor, and kept you tight to his chest. He knew this would go wrong, and that getting involved meant putting his head on the chopping block for you.

"Her!" One of the soldiers yelled with a pointed finger, the assertion springing three of them into action as they stormed in your direction.

Negan took steps back with you still in his arms, your feet clumsily following his as you made a collectively hopeless attempt to delay the confrontation, but to no avail. The first soldier to reach you raised his baton with the hopes of cracking it across either one of you, hopeful that the impact would split you two up, but Negan had other ideas. He spun you in time with the swing of the steel instrument, and you felt him jolt against your back as the steel met his, the sensation of pain working through his spine.

"Negan!" You tried to claw his arms off of you to suffer the rest of the soldier's frustration, but it was no use.

Negan was determined to endure the worst of it all and to keep the focus of the most volatile and vicious soldier. The delivery of the second hit finally buckled his legs, the pain drawing a groan out of his throat as he sunk to his knees still shielding your body with his, but the third time was a charm. His arms fell from you, and you scrambled forward as the other two rounded Negan to reach you. You felt the first kick, the steel toe cap of a combat boot slamming against the middle of your back making you grit your teeth, and then it went from one boot to a pair, the two of them just kicking the everloving shit out of you. Though only lasting a quarter of a minute you felt every slow, agonising millisecond of the assault up until the moment you heard a shout, and everything slowed to a stop. It was so silent you could practically hear a pin drop. The kicking ceased and you managed to lift your head enough to see what had halted them. The warden. He often stood on an elevated area of the ground by his office to oversee the operation and ensure things were running smoothly, and well, this wasn't exactly smooth sailing.

"That's enough! Bring the girl, and we'll deal with that one later." The warden commanded, the order leaving the two soldiers to roughly haul you upright, the denim clinging to your knees dragging along the ground as they held you by your arms.

For the half a second you had you lifted your head to take a glimpse at Negan he had his head turned to look at you, eyes ablaze with solicitude as the soldier above him kept him pinned to the floor with a knee on his chest, his gaze never leaving yours. You tried to fight the oncoming headache as the ground passed beneath you, the many shades of autumn leaves becoming but a blur with the pace at which they heaved you along. There was an aching in your spine, a sharp pang of pain that had you hissing on occasion, though you could do nothing but wait to be dropped wherever the warden wanted you.

Eventually, the leaves turned to floor, and you were lifted and dropped rather harshly into a wooden chair, the carelessness with which you were placed making you ground your feet against the floor to remain in your seat. The soldiers walked off without one word, closing the door behind them and leaving you in an empty room. You could make out that this was where the warden resided, which wasn't difficult to figure out due to the rather apparent commonwealth flag hanging over a portion of the back wall. It was their very own indication of having conquered your home causing it to be posted up all over the place and hung proudly over the gated entrance to Alexandria. If you ever got out of this mess, you'd burn it.

"You have been quite the handful, prisoner."

The sound of the warden's voice made you aware of his presence, the door behind you clicking shut as he made his way inside and then walked past you to stand behind his desk.

"Yeah, I tend to have a knack for that." You remarked, the comment etching irritation into his features.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" He started whilst rounding his desk to stand in front of you. "This was found after your friend's rather pathetic display of heroics."

He tossed the piece of cloth Negan had been using to keep track of the soldier's routines at you, and you grabbed it as it slowly descended towards your chest. You made a point of looking at it with furrowed, confused brows.

"Okay? I've never seen this before, I don't know shit about it."

The warden let a small patronising smile paint his lips, almost as if he was entertaining your lie for a moment, and then it faded.

"And I don't believe that for one second. So you tell me which one of the people in your little rebellion is responsible for this, or you're never gonna see any of those people again."

You clenched your jaw, narrowed eyes shooting daggers at him, and said nothing. Your silence caused him to look off to the side contemplatively and let out a long sigh, his gaze averting back to yours after a moment.

"I'm disappointed. I admire your loyalty, truly, I could use more people like you. But you're prioritising the wrong things."

The mere suggestion that you'd be suited to help run an operation like this made you bite your tongue, your only retaliation being the way you threw the cloth back at him.

"So, we done here?"

The warden hated that he hadn't made you cower, hated how resistant you were to his intimidation and threats, and you knew there was no way in hell he was letting you get off the hook with an attitude like this. There'd be consequences to come for your defiant actions, and it was just something you'd have to wait to discover the extent of.

"Fine. My men will take you back."

He waved his hand to signal the two soldiers stationed at the door to come forth, and you were being hauled up by the arms before you knew it, your shoes scuffing against the floor as they dragged you back out. You heard the warden muttering something over a radio on your way out, from what you could make out something along the lines of another one of the commonwealth's locations, and presumably, that being wherever you were next headed. Shit. After bringing you back to your post, with Negan unnervingly nowhere to be seen, you worked right through till the lunch break. Your back was sore with the incident that occurred in the morning, thus the somewhat free reign during the rest periods and the nagging pain shooting down your spine driving you right back towards the barn you'd woke up in to sit down on your bed, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you felt your weight shift off of your feet. You closed your eyes and propped your elbows on your knees, your head tipping into your hands and allowing you to cup them over your face. This place wouldn't break you. It couldn't when you'd already been broken so long ago, with Rick having picked up the pieces left of your past and put it back together with his promises for the future and all inspiring leadership monologues. Not that you resented him for that either, but Rick was gone now. Everybody was. All you had left was Maggie. Often when you closed your eyes you could still hear the way she sobbed as Glenn choked on his words, his life slipping away before her very eyes. The way that after all of it, the hours upon hours of the gravel digging into all of your knees, she was still the first to stand. You remembered holding her as she sat by Glenn's unmarked grave back at Hilltop, and the heavy next few weeks that would come to follow. Her grief and the way everything had been taken from her so swiftly haunted you, but her resilience? Well, it gave you something to stand for, to believe in.

"Thought I might find you here."

You'd been so invested in your thoughts you'd barely registered the sound of approaching footsteps, and the man whose voice that belonged to. You lowered your hands from your face and lifted your head, the sight leaving you yet again awash with irony. The cruel reminder that you sought refuge in the man that brought you and the woman you'd do anything for so much torment, and yet seeing him brought you more relief than you could ever fathom. When you didn't reply he lowered himself down onto the space beside you with a sigh and leant towards you, his fingers delving under the hem at the back of your shirt. You winced as his fingertip passed over a tender area, and he paused once you did.

"I know, baby. Just, just let me see."

A small nod prompted him to continue to roll your shirt up your back, and the material of your tank top underneath followed suit. Eventually, he had everything rolled up at the top of your back to expose your bruises, patches of discolouration and barbaric contusions from where blood had leaked out beneath your skin. You heard his breath pause, and then the way it got slightly heavier, in a shaky, wrathful way.

"That bad, huh?" You teased, the silent response that followed and the fact that he was out of sight not providing much reassurance.

The sudden feel of lips pressing against your shoulder blade startled you slightly, your surprise causing Negan to wrap his arm around your waist to soothe you. His hand caressed your hip as his lips connected with your skin again, this time focusing more on the middle of your upper back, every repeated press of his lips making you relax more into him.

"I should be the one doing that, considering the beating you took for me."

He only hushed you, his breath fanning against your skin as he mumbled from behind you.

"I'd do that shit again in a heartbeat, over and over."

He pecked your skin once more, and then carefully rolled your clothing back down your body. After that, Negan shifted more towards the edge of the bed as he returned to the space beside you, and he was quick to raise one of his hands to softly cup one side of your face. Negan used the touch to guide you to him, his lips pressing against yours for the first time since your day together in the commonwealth. Having been so starved of him you quickly found yourself practically swallowing him, his tongue dominantly slipping into your mouth as you stole each other's breath. Not only was he kissing you just to feel you again, to breathe you in, but to seal the underlying promise in his words with a kiss. Negan didn't have anything left in this world besides you, and that gave him something to fight for. Neither of you had ever been the type to fall so deep, even less likely were you the kind to plunge into the very abyss that was the rabbit hole of needing someone, of allowing yourself to be so dependent. It equally frightened the both of you.

"Negan, I need to tell you something." You whispered as you chased your breath, your foreheads touching, the tips of your noses brushing.

Even through the thrilling rush of feeling his mouth on yours again it was rather easy for Negan to notice that your head was elsewhere, that something was playing on your mind.

"I'm listening." He husked in response, the warrant for you to continue making you screw your eyes shut and sigh.

"I don't know when. Could be tonight, tomorrow, but they're moving me."

Negan immediately leaned back, narrowed eyes pairing with furrowed brows to form one hell of a scowl.

"You know me, I didn't play nice with that asshole. He wanted me to give up the person responsible for the map and well I just, couldn't."

Your eyes momentarily flitted elsewhere to avoid his harrowing stare, and when you finally resumed the long, excruciatingly intense gaze he held you in you watched the fire roar to life in his eyes. It was something you hadn't seen in a long time, not since that night. But it wasn't with the intent to hurt you this time, it was meant for you. Despite the cold, inferno blazing in his irises his hand reached out and brushed over yours, his palm resting on the back of your hand as his fingers closed around it.

"I don't give a damn about the kind of screwed up crap I gotta do to stop that from happening, but I promise you, I'm not letting that happen."

You shook your head slightly, your eyes threatening to fill with tears when his hand squeezed yours.

"No Negan, don't you dare make promises you can't keep." You warned, an underlying bite to your tone that made Negan's nose briefly scrunch up as he grimaced.

"Well, tough shit. I'm gonna try my damned hardest, and there ain't a thing you can do about it." Negan snapped back steadfast, a calm hint in his voice that indicated the frustration was coming from a place of protectiveness.

A tense silence fell, and you paused just to stare at one another, everything in this moment characterising the very essence of your complex draw to one another. You were glaring at him like you wanted to kill him, jaw clenched as you tried to refrain from pushing him away. Similarly, Negan had narrowed his eyes, his jaw set and the occasional rise and fall of his chest as he breathed slow, his eyes wholly focused on you. And yet, your fingers remained interlinked, your hand squeezing his as though you were pouring all that anger into his palm.

"You wanna know why I wanted to take a look at your back?"

His thumb idly swept over your knuckles as he awaited your reply.

"Why?" You responded plainly with a small sigh.

"Well, aside from the obvious, I needed to know what that asshole should look like before I'm done with him. Every bruise, every mark, even the smallest bit of red to your skin, he's gonna feel it. All, of it. And then more." Negan spoke low, occasionally punctuating his words with pauses, and the familiarity of it all gave you chills.

The last time you saw that look in his eyes, the last time he spoke with such venom and made such violent promises, was the night he bludgeoned two of your friends to death. You could still hear the way the gravel ground beneath the soles of his boots as he paced back and forth, his mouth running with all the ways he was going to terrorise the group, and the way your breath got caught in your throat when he promised to beat one of you to death. This time your breath caught but not out of fear, rapture. Your lips were on his before you even fully realised what you were doing, the sudden affection prompting Negan to rest his hand on one side of your face, the other using your still connected hands to pull you towards him and into his lap. After a few days without being so intimate with one another the mere feel of his hand on your arm or his skin touching yours was enough to electrify you, and you couldn't get enough of him. Your free hand dived down to unbuckle his belt, the tugging of the leather causing Negan to break the kiss with a surprised, amused breath.

"As much as I would love to screw around, this ain't the time or place. Besides, you're not exactly quiet sweetheart."

The comment drew a small chuckle from the both of you and you persistently shook your head, your smile fading a little as you parted your lips to speak.

"I know, but I could be gone by tomorrow morning. Negan, this could be the last time we see each other."

The thumb of the hand cupping the side of your face started smoothing over the top of your cheek.

"Don't say that."

"Negan, please." You interjected, the brief pause as he did nothing but stare into your eyes and let your words sink in allowing you some time to slip in a persuasive tease.

"Besides, I think screwing in not so appropriate places is kinda our thing by now."

He contemplated it for a moment, his eyes locked on yours as a singular thought loomed in his mind, and then grinned.

"Alright, but we gotta make this quick."

You nodded with the enthusiasm to take something, anything from him, and resumed your pursuit in undoing his pants. His mouth was on yours again in no time, the metal of the buckle on his belt clinking as you let the leather rest on either side of the fly on his jeans. One of his hands took hold of your hip to urge you to lift up so he could unbutton his pants, fingers hurriedly hooking into the waistband of his jeans to push them down his hips and over his thighs, his mouth still claiming yours all the while. You hesitantly allowed your lips to part if only to tilt your head down and steal a glance at the deep lines resting across his pelvis, one of your hands rushing to greedily trace the v-shape resting above his boxers with your fingers. You got a little lost in it, the way your mind wandered prompting him to tilt your head back to look at him with a lift of your chin, his thumb moving up to rest on your bottom lip, lightly pulling it downward.

"We're on a time limit here, baby. Now I'm all for going out on a high, but not when it means taking you with me."

You let a small smile spread across your lips.

"There's no way I'd rather go."

He shook his head with a chuckle, lips brushing against yours as he leant forward and spoke against your lips.

"That's my girl."

You had little time to process the ownership he'd so affectionately branded you with, his lips crashing back against yours as his fingers worked to remove your jeans. You kicked off the denim that had eventually gathered at your ankles the quickest you could, your panties crumpled carelessly somewhere in the heap. Negan placed his hand on your waist, the other caressing over your hip and stopping to apply a slight pressure. He guided you down onto him, the removal of his boxers having happened somewhere in the events of the removal of your own clothing, which you were now aware of. A small gasp escaped your lips as you sunk onto him, stretching around him the further you got. That was nothing compared to the sensations to follow, however, the feel of fullness as your ass rested against his thighs, knees on either side of his hips and breath heavy as the sudden intrusion became all too surreal. He gave you some time to adjust, a small mercy, and then lifted his hips with a groan. The movement had you throwing your arms around his neck, one hand sliding up the nape of his neck and getting lost in his hair, fingertips ruffling the strands of hair towards the end of his slick.

"You're so damn pretty when you're taking my cock." Negan breathed, your slightly parted lips allowing the dirty sentiment into your mouth, to which his tongue readily followed.

You took it, letting his tongue past your lips and not even bothering for a play in power, tongue languidly moving with his. You rolled your hips in time with the movements of his own, practically bouncing on him once he cupped your ass and fastened the pace. It was everything you needed, a sinful, consuming fuck that'd swallow you whole amidst the misery of it all. At every dead end, every wrong turn, every bleak and dim day to ever lower your spirit, he was there one way or another. Because through it all the man who had taken so much from you, who had taken everything at one point in time and destroyed the very man who saved you, gave you so much. He made you feel what you needed to feel, touched you in the ways you needed to be touched, and held you in the ways you needed to be held. The universe works in mysterious ways, and creating a void that can only be filled by the same man who created it is most certainly one of them.

"Mm, fuck Negan you feel so good." You whispered between repeated kisses, the flattery encouraging Negan to bury his head in the crook of your neck and press his lips against your pulse point.

"That so? Cause it's like I've died and gone to pussy heaven." He drawled with a small chuckle as he smiled against your skin between the kisses he littered your neck with, the vulgarity of his words as Negan as ever.

His lips sucked and teased the skin on your neck whilst one of his hands wandered to your back, fingers lifting the hem of your shirt and delving beneath the more tight-fitting fabric of your tank top. His hand alternated between drawing circles on your bruises, a light touch to soothe the tender skin, and smoothing over the affliction in its entirety with the careful movements of his open palm pressed flush against the violet, blood-tinged skin. The tenderness of his touch mixed in with the unrelenting and persistent thrusts that filled you to the hilt over and over had you succumbing to an intense and sudden release that you'd hardly even noticed had been building. Negan's efforts to bring you to a quick, euphoric release paid off as you squirmed on top of him, the continuation of his hard thrusts only dragging every sweet second as the pleasure of your orgasm crashed over you. You bit down onto your lip so hard you were bound to draw blood, the teeth you dug into your bottom lip acting as a way of suppressing the screams you were so desperate to release. In the haste of being moments from release he guided you off of him as he removed himself from you, hot wet spurts landing on your abdomen whilst he let out low, rough grunts as Negan worked through his own long, unsparing high. You slumped against his chest, your breath faltering as you screwed your eyes shut and prepared to return to the outside world, for it was no longer recognisable as home. The only thing left that felt like home was him, as much as it turned your stomach. You were so wrapped up in your mind you barely felt the fingers running through your hair, and the fingers of another hand passing over your jaw to coax your head upward. When your eyes met his a small smile appeared on his lips, and then they were on yours. It was then as your lips moved against one another that you recognised it, the tang of metal as he kissed the taste of your blood into your mouth, and smeared it onto his. It was just like the first time, but things were so different now. He broke the kiss with some protest, your heavy breaths filling the air around you.

"As much as I'd love to keep kissing that pretty mouth, and hell, a second round, we are about to go unaccounted for. We can't afford that kinda level of shit hitting the fan." Negan croaked through gradually steadying breaths.

Whatever light may have been illuminating your irises dimmed at the reminder of what was waiting for you outside the confinement of these four walls, and Negan caught the shift in your expression immediately.

"Hey, cut that shit out. You're not getting moved, I'm not letting your hot ass go anywhere."

You snorted your laughter and rolled your eyes at the light-hearted comment, playfully placing your hand against his chest and pushing him away.

"You just never stop, do you? I gotta find your off switch."

Now it was Negan's turn to snort, shaking his head as he snickered to himself. You climbed off of his lap and stood to your feet, your hands gathering some of the makeshift bedding they'd provided you with and using it to wipe away the droplets slowly working their way down your stomach. After a few moments you were both fully clothed and ready to return to the chaos, though the feel of his hand closing around your forearm interrupted you a step from exiting the barn. You came to a halt and turned to face him, and were taken aback by what you found. It was like you'd swapped places, the solace previously whirling in your eyes having transferred into his, though he did his best to conceal it. A momentary slip of his eyes lowering to the ground was enough to give him away.

"You know I meant every word in here, right?"

You paused to search for words that wouldn't come, the idea of trusting his every word and promise he makes of your safety leaving you tongue tied. All you could muster was a small nod, the gesture small enough that it didn't have to have so much weight to it. That was enough for Negan, his hand unfurling from your arm and freeing you from his clutch.

You held the gaze you shared with one another for a moment too long and then stepped out into the cold.

#negan #negan smith #negan twd #negan smut #twd negan #negan x reader #negan x you #the walking dead negan #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #negan fanfiction

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 20 days

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I’ve been spending the past like hour looking at your page I love it sm! I have some questions :3 1. Does Rosie have a design in your au yet? I’d love to see her being actually super scary- 2. Do velvette and vox know how Val treats angel? 3. Where is angel’s brother. Just what is he doing in hell.

Just for you anon I have drawn Rosie incredibly quickly and she kind of looks like garbage but ive never drawn her before im so sorry

For any issues in this (a few I can already spot) I will be fixing when I work on her full body design 🙏 I like her original smile and hollow eyes but honestly sunken in eyes that are barely visible are a lot scarier to be so she gets that. Ive also considered making her blind but we’ll see if I go through with that (I would love to design her a really fancy white cane though… something with that umbrella it does things to me..)

As for Vox and Velvette, I don’t think Velvette is anywhere near as aware as Vox is. The majority of her knowledge is some horrible things have probably happened but she’s never seen it or explicitly gotten any confirmation her suspicions are true so she refrains from prying into it because it’s “not her problem” and finding out would make things more complicated for her image and work, though she absolutely does hat Valentino and is 100% okay with killing him and has discussed kicking him out with Vox multiple times, however they have yet to settle on this.

Vox is definitely aware of what Valentino does but doesn’t actively engage himself in it aside from very sparse talks with Angel on set that usually involves Angel becoming irritable or jittery in Vox’s presence. Vox does detest Valentino’s behaviour and treatment of Angel and will frequently roll his eyes at the mention of Angel since in his mind “its always something with him” and by now any complaints Valentino has about Angel get filtered out after so many years of hearing the most mundane things Valentino is upset about. (ie. Angel moving even though he didn’t live with Valentino to begin with) Even though he heavily disapproves of what Valentino does he still turns a blind eye to it and leaves Angel with little to no help, only ever giving him a few words of advice or a brief warning if Valentino is in a bad mood that day.

Velvette is also unaware of Vox and Valentino’s actual situation as well as basically everyone else. On the surface they come off as “friends with benefits” however Vox is in a (very loosely) similar situation to Angel. Valentino will make similar threats and statements to Vox as he does Angel and currently, Vox doesn’t realise that Valentino is exploiting him. As of now, he hasn’t processed “I don’t actually want to be doing this” or “I am uncomfortable in this situation”. He is still suffering the effects of an abusive work relationship since Valentino does still hit and yell at him, he just hasn’t processed the sexual aspect of what they do was pushed onto him unnaturally rather than him consenting to it openly. Hopefully this makes sense? If it doesn’t feel free to DM me about it or send in another ask and I can clarify more

Angel’s brother currently is still in the mafia and is mingling with crime as usual, however a decent few years ago he ended up gambling away +65% of the families earnings at Husk’s casino back when he was an overlord and ended getting himself stripped of all respect and ranking and is currently attempting to repay his family and work his way back up while trying not to get killed. He is also vaguely homophobic still but has become more tolerant of it after being around and meeting more people. He definitely doesn’t think its “natural” but he knows when to keep his mouth shut and will probably understand more about it someday. Not anytime soon though. He also hasn’t seen Angel for around 8-10 years now and by seen I really just mean yelled at him from across the street and then got a brick thrown at him probably

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kindaasrikal · 2 months

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Yknow how i headcanon’d that Morro actually starved to death rather the burn (https://www.tumblr.com/kindaasrikal/744295968397213696/so-uh-a-bit-of-a-dark-headcannon-for-morro-and -this post)

I made it worse.

So ghost Morro, his uh…clothes? Specifically his pants? Notice anything about them? Maybe the fact that they no longer can be classified as pants?

Yeah, so Morro’s pants are literally ripped up to his knees or smth (i know the creators said that its most likely his pants not his legs, but the way his lower half is designed makes it look like ripped up pants) so…what if, and hear me out. When he was stuck in the Caves of Despair, he got desperate and began eating the fabric of his pants in a vain attempt to sooth his hunger and live longer for an escape. And whilst it did make him last a bit longer (all by himself, stuck with only his thoughts) it caused severe stomach pains. You see, eating fabric messes with your stomach badd, so that pain, combined with the starvation pain, probably tipped him over the edge of insanity as he slowly lost his mind to a pain inside.

Whilst we all always talk about surface wounds and emotional pains, I personally think the worst pain is the type your body inflicts on itself. Its nothing you can hold, or quickly fix, or even know how long it can fix. It starts inside you and effects the other areas of your body as each organ connects to another. This most likely caused Morro to go delusional from the pain, tipping his already precarious mental position over the edge.

Imagine the horrific pain he faced in a hot cave, with no one to help him as his (TEENAGE) mind told him he was gonna die, and he was gonna die without having done the one thing he spent years chasing after.

Haha, imagine the dehydration also caused him to see hallucinations.

IMAGINE HE SAW HALLUCINATIONS OF WU.

#morro is a tad depressed #lego emo #morro ninjago #lego ninjago #morro wu #ninjago morro #green #ninjago #dark headcanon #tw death #dude #im on a roll #wu ninjago #ninjago sensei wu

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rendy-a · 1 year

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if requests are still open, and if it's okay for me to ask for a follow-up; Can I ask how thankful the boys would be for the time-breaker S/O's UM during their daily lives ? slice of life, fluff, goofy "moments before disaster" saved by S/Os UM, all those good things :D I've been thinking about a few highlights, like... Slowing time around the table area during an unbirthday party because Ace ALMOST crashed into the table; S/O uses their unique magic to get up and hold him by the back of his jacket in time to yank him back onto his feet; S/O is now a mandatory attendant to all unbirthday parties as result... (On the bright side, Riddle looks a whole lot more relaxed now) Cheka tries to ambush S/O and Leona when he takes them home to meet the family. S/O turns around in slow motion during Cheka's leap; now S/O is gently holding the young boy by the back of his shirt, nonchalantly smug, "To be fair, i think was a good attempt?" (Leona knows he must not laugh but what the fuckLMFAO- ) Jamil's list of daily "Almost-s" is no longer a threat to his heart with S/O around, but the way his S/O delivers news to him by throwing letters Kaiba-style only to freeze them in place almost does it; but its the good news that make his heart jump this time (the news itself is up to you but i'm imagining smth along the lines of "Kalim's older siblings came back from buying milk and made some new friends who decided to be guards lmfao you can just work halftime now, congrats" written in a royal way) ...these boys better give their S/O a hug and some kisses for all that effort, honestly

(you don't have to choose from the ones i wrote or do any of 'em!! i'm just very happy to read your writing at all and I wanted to share whats in my mind in case it gave you any ideas too ^^ thank you for writing twst, and I'm so sorry for the long asks!! I like to hope it makes writing easier rather than harder for you x( <3333 )

Goodness, I thought this would be fast to right since I'd just finished the last one but it took me the same amount of time. Anyway, here is a part 2 for this story.

Making a Moment Last Afterwards

Life as a magical prefect has its perks. How do things change between you and your sweetheart after your confession?

Riddle had always saw his future as that of a magical doctor, fixing people who were injured or broken. Maybe that is why the way you use your ability to prevent injury so catches his attention. One morning, you came to meet him at Heartslabyul so you could walk to class together. You give him a warm smile as way of a greeting. “Right on time dear,” he says with a smile. Just then, a student lets his mind wander too much on the iconic eye-bending staircases and stumbles. “Ack!” he yelps as he starts a tumble down the stair, hand just missing the railing. Riddle reaches for his pen but you are faster. Before he hits the ground, you have him frozen in place. You hold him there, suspended in time, until Trey and Cater are able to grab him by his jacket. Then you release your magic and the upperclassmen yank their junior back onto his feet, thus preventing a horrible accident.

“Why do these stairs need to be designed so crazy!” the shaken student complains. You feel like that was not a well-timed complaint and, glancing at your boyfriend’s face slowly turning into an angry scowl, you know you were correct. “Because that is tradition!” you say with forced humor, patting your bristling boyfriend on the arm. Riddle calms down and gives a sharp nod, as if to say ‘Exactly! So there!’ Then he turns to you and offers his arm with a satisfied smile. His dearest always knows just what to do.

The next incident was during preparations for the upcoming Unbirthday Party. A freshman was up on a ladder to paint the highest roses red when a certain grey fire gremlin runs wildly past, knocking the ladder and sending the student flying. You fling out your magic, catching the first year in time to save him a bad fall but not fast enough to prevent a wrenched wrist. Luckily, you know enough first aid to help him wrap it tight before sending him to the school infirmary. Riddle looks at you, wrapping the student’s wrist, and gets a thought; you are just like a nurse. “What’s that?” Deuce asks him. Riddle blushes, did he say that out loud?

When the day of the Unbirthday party arrives, you sit happily on the right side of Riddle. He smiles with such satisfaction to have you seated in a place of honor by his side. “Urgh!” You hear a student cry out as he trips, flinging a pot of hot tea toward a group of students. Thankfully, you manage to catch the hot tea before it hits anyone. You still rush over to the group to check them over (better safe than sorry!) while also scolding the stumbling student to be more careful on the uneven ground.

You finish looking over the last student and give him a pat, “I think you are good.” He smiles sheepishly at you and replies, “Thank you, Nurse Rosehearts.” Your eyes widen and your mouth makes a little O shape. That is nothing compared to the levels of embarrassment your boyfriend is experiencing. “What did you say?” he asks menacingly. “Ah, well you see…um Deuce told us you call the Prefect your nurse and we all thought it was fitting so…” Riddle is now a shade of red you hadn’t realized it was possible for a human to turn, “Deuce. If you have nothing better to do with your head than spread rumors, I take it you have no objections to me claiming it. OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!” You mouth ‘sorry’ to your collared friend as Riddle continues to scold him.

Later that night, Riddle muses as he brushes his teeth. Nurse Rosehearts. That has a nice sound to it.

Your life with Leona could be summarized in one word, restful. How could it not be, the lazy second prince insisted you nap with him whenever he could get a moment of your time. Some of the students from Savanahclaw think it’s cute, the proud Leona wanting to cuddle his sweet little herbivore like his own personal teddy. Those who spent the most time around him knew better. It was for your special skills.

Leona’s guide to napping Part 1, prepare the environment. The botanical garden was a favorite date spot for you and your boyfriend. The temperature was temperate, the plants were colorful background and, during classes, it was nice and quiet. Usually.

Leona’s ears flicker irritably. Drip. Drip. Drip. A huffing sound escapes from your boyfriend’s lips as he pulls you closer, attempting to drown his awareness of the sound with your comforting presence. Drip, drip, drip. He grips you and rolls over to his other side, bringing you along for the ride. “Woah, come on; warn a person before you do something like that!” you scold. He opens a single eye to glare out from, a “Tck” sound slipping out irritably when he sucks is teeth in annoyance. “Fine, fine. Want me to get up and see if I can tighten the faucet?”

When he rumbles deep in his chest and grips you even tighter, you know that is a no. ‘Fine,’ you think, ‘time for a last resort measure.’ Moments later the sound stops. Leona’s eyes open at the cessation of the sound, instincts pulling him to alertness at the change in atmosphere. After a moment, his gaze falls on your amused expression, of course you’d stopped it with your magic. “Five minutes tops. You better fall asleep fast.” He smiles, drawing your head into his chest. “Won’t even take two, Herbivore.”

Leona’s guide to napping Part 2, avoid pests at all costs. You could hear the screeching from down the hall. Children just operated at their own frequency. The look on Leona’s face said he found the joyful chirrups more like you’d take nails on a chalkboard. His face visibly annoyed as the young Checka clutched at his hand exclaiming, “Unka Leona, look! Unka Leona, see that!” at every little point of interest. You feared, if he didn’t get a break soon, Leona would snap.

“Hey Checka, want to see a cool field where you can catch butterflies?” you suggest. The bright face of the child turns to you, “Yeah!” Leona smiles at you gratefully and attempts to shake Checka’s hand off. “No, you come too, Unka Leona!” Checka insists. Leona’s smile falls into a stern frown quickly. You quickly move to catch his eye and give him a conspiratorial wink. Leona looks at you for a long moment and then sighs. “Lead the way, Herbivore.”

When you get to the fields near Ramshackle, there were indeed an assortment of moths and butterflies that flitted between the grasses and blooms. “Come on Checka, I’m a pro at this! Let’s go!” you shout and grab the little cub’s hand to urge him to join you. And he does, allowing Leona to slip into the tall grass for a short reprieve from his noisy charge.

Only the peace doesn’t last. What seems like a brief moment later, Checka pounces upon his hapless uncle. “Ooph!” Leona huffs, giving the boy a disapproving look. “Checka, where did you go?” you call out helplessly. “Unka Leona, are you sleepy?” the little cub asks Leona curiously. Leona rolls his eyes and looks at you with a look that reads, ‘rescue me.’ You rack your brain for another distraction.

Finally, even you must admit you’ve reached your limit and give up. “Hey kid, want to do something fun? Come here and I’ll teach you to fly.” The young lion bounds eagerly to his feet and runs to your side. You grip him by each underarm and toss him into the air. “Whooa!” you both yell. When he lands, he shouts “Again!” So you oblige him. Only this time, when he lands in your arms, you freeze him in time. “Herbivore, you are horrible.” Leona teases you. “Shush, you. Let’s get some rest in while we still can.”

Leona holds out an arm, inviting you to join him where he lays. You snuggle up and fall into an exhausted slumber. It lasted fifteen minutes, until your magic wore off. The best fifteen minutes of your day.

Jamil worked harder than anyone else you knew. Although you hadn’t officially gotten together after that magical night, you still somehow seemed to always be at his side. From that vantage, you’d been introduced to the grueling schedule that Jamil kept as both a student and servant to Kalim. You were fortunate that Scarabia had so many spare rooms. If not for the fact that you often slept over at the dorm, you might not see Jamil for days at a time.

The sun was barely risen when a sharp knock came at the door of your guest room suite. You mumbled to yourself before rolling over to look at the time. It was so early… A few minutes later, another knock sounds on your door. You know by this that Jamil has passed your room first to light the oven, getting it warm for breakfast, and again on his way to get Kalim out of bed. You’d like to stay and sleep longer but, with Jamil working so hard already, how could you?

A short time later, you are joined in the kitchen by Jamil. He gives you a warm smile in welcome and you both get to cooking. When you had first started cooking with Jamil, he barely trusted you to boil water but now, well, it’s not much but you’ve graduated to chopping veggies. When he has time, which is rare, he tries to help you improve your cooking skills. Each time you manage to master a new skill to his satisfaction, you earn a pat on the back and a small, “Well done.” The praise was more precious to you than jewels.

You finish off a carrot and slide the chopped offering down to Jamil, who adds it to a skillet of simmering spices and gravy. “What would you like next?” you ask him. “In a moment, Prefect. This part is tricky, so I need to concentrate.” Jamil answers. You don’t mind at all, enjoying the sight of Jamil skillfully flipping the contents of the skillet.

“Eeek!” came a cry from the lounge. You both recognized that voice, it was Kalim. You make eye contact and both simultaneously look at the sizzling skillet. “Go,” you say, “I’ve got this.” Jamil is starting to freak out, “I haven’t approved you to make rice yet, let alone this!” You roll your eyes at him and gesture, freezing the contents of the skillet mid-flip. “Ahhh,” Jamil mumbles, the beginnings of embarrassment showing on his face. You’d like to tease him more but there is still Kalim yelling in the lounge, so you suppose that can wait until this new disaster was dealt with. (It was a spider.)

Parties were so frequent an occasion in Scarabia that you’d rather become numb to them. You were helping Jamil set up for the latest party for…you weren’t even sure anymore. It may have been Riddle’s horse’s birthday or something. Anyway, you were hanging banners from the many railings of the balconies in the Scarabia lounge to prepare for the event.

Plus, you had a secret duty assigned by Jamil. From the corner of your eye, you kept Kalim in your sight. Since Jamil must be away at Basketball Club for the moment, he has entrusted you with keeping Kalim in order. This mostly amounts to stopping Kalim before he lets his wild ideas run away with him. Speaking of which, you notice Kalim is excitedly gesturing as he speaks to (honestly you don’t remember his name, you’ve been calling him Scarabia B in your head). An over-excited Kalim; that’s not a good sign.

“And elephants too!” you were just in time to hear. Oh no, this had gotten out of hand. You walk faster towards the pair but Kalim excitedly jumps up and runs off towards his treasure room. You quickly follow. “Kalim! Kalim! Where are you going?” you shout. “Ah, Prefect!” Kalim smiles at you widely, clutching a rolled-up carpet. “I’m going to take the magic carpet out to herd up some elephants for the party. Aha ha ha!” Before he can fly off, you grab onto the magic carpet with your magic, freezing it in place. “Hold it!” you shout. “We can’t bring elephants to the party or…it will scare the horses!” Kalim looks at you, his mouth going into a wide O. Then, just as fast, it shifts into a beaming grin. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that! I’m so glad we have you here to help with the party, Prefect! Aha ha ha!” Disaster averted.

Parties were fun but they were also exhausting, especially for Jamil. You followed him around, helping as best you could. Sweeping up, tearing down party decorations, putting leftover food away to repurpose for tomorrow’s lunch; anything to take a small portion of the burden off your hard-working beau. Finally, you had had enough.

“Jamil, you need to stop and rest. This can all wait until tomorrow,” you gently admonish him. He sets down the empty platter he is carrying and sighs. “Prefect, I wish your magic could freeze time for the whole world, so I’d finally be able to finish everything.” You consider this and respond, “Maybe my unique magic can’t do that but that’s not the only magic I have.” Jamil chuckles softly and gives you a look that says, ‘go on.’ You smile at him mischievously, “I’m like the fabled genie of the lamp, ready to grant your every wish. For your first wish, I’m sending you off to bed for some rest.” Then you drop the humor, “Even you need a break sometimes Jamil.”

With a final long-suffering sigh, Jamil relents and lets you walk with him toward his room and well-earned slumber. “You know, Prefect,” Jamil quietly states, “I believe the genie granted three wishes.” You pause under the gentle illumination of a lantern set in an alcove. “Why so he did,” you reply pensively. Then, stepping close to Jamil, you place a hand on his cheek before drawing him down into a kiss. His lips are warm against yours in the rapidly cooling night. When you part, you lay your other hand on his chest and lean into his comforting warmth. “I guess now you’ll just have to head to your room and think about what you want as your third wish.”

With one last gentle look, Jamil turns and continues alone to his room and rest. Truly though, he has no need to consider a third wish. What more could he desire when he already has you?

#twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper

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heykoonsy · 3 months

Text

Word Count: 4k+

Pairing: Husk x Angel Dust (HuskerDust/AngelHusk), some Angel Dust x OC sprinkled in for flavor

Summary: “Give him everything but your ass.” Angel Dust was tasked with one job: convince the investor to subsidize Valentino’s agency. Angel was more of a closer to Valentino, enticing the wealthier of his associates into funding projects for him. However, this latest pitch didn’t go as planned and Angel’s hubris prevented him from seeing the potential drawbacks of a one night stand with someone Valentino marked. In this slow burn love story, Angel must confront the worst parts of himself if he is going to win back his career.

Content Warnings: Rated 18+ for foul language & threatening dialogue

Author's Note: The HuskerDust content from the new series is giving me life. I am literally eviscerated every time I see them.

Angel lay on the bed of the set, his lingerie ripped to pieces and his stiletto heels draped off the side of the duvet. He was sitting up on his elbows, his eyes scanning the rest of the studio. He saw a mound of editors, techs and stage hands all huddled around the editing bay with Vercelli in the center. They’d been trying to fix something for the last ten minutes and every minute that passed pushed Angel closer and closer to walking off set. This shoot seemed doomed from the start.

He’d been working with Vercelli for the last few days now on his latest script–”his masterpiece”–everyone was calling it. Personally, Angel didn’t see anything to go crazy over, but his opinion didn’t really matter with these sorts of things. Valentino decided from the moment he read it that Angel would be playing the lead. And what Val wants, he gets. It made sense, as Angel had just finished up his last scene for the picture Guerrero was putting together. While his team edited down what footage they were able to capture, Angel took a few nights off.

Vercelli spent the last few weeks editing the script and working out quirks with the staging, desperate to make this his most ambitious film yet. After Angel was handed a finalized script, he sat on the sidelines as his team rushed to design the sets. Everything was moving rather slowly–which Angel blamed on Vercelli’s poor management style. Granted, he wasn’t as aggressive with his team as Guerrero–and not as motivated as Brut. He was somewhere in the middle regarding talent. He was far from the worst, but a far cry from the best in the business. However, to some, he was doing groundbreaking work.

Angel looked to his right, where he could feel eyes lingering on him. He’d felt them every day that he’d been on set. He’d felt them when he was running lines with his co-star. Even when he was walking past everyone to get to his dressing room. Angel knew better than to make direct eye contact with the gaze’s owner. That would just lead to another conversation he didn’t want to have. Instead, Angel acted like he was stretching his neck waiting for Vercelli to resume his stage directions.

Angel was kept waiting, and the eyes on him persisted.

“Xy,” Angel called out.

“Yes, Angel?” Xy prompted, her head poking out from the crowd around Vercelli. She appeared in front of him in a matter of seconds.

“Is this gonna take any longer?” Angel asked as politely as he could.

Xy looked over at the group crowded around the editing bay. She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Could I get you some water?”

Angel shook his head. “No, that’s alright.”

“I’ll ask him if you can leave set at least. The A/C is really cranked today.” Xy reassured him with a small touch on his shoulder and went running back to the group.

Angel sighed, understanding that as good as Xy was at her job, there was no way she would be able to pry their attention away. Which meant that he was stuck here.

It would be different if he weren’t so exposed. Strange sentiment coming from the mind of a porn-star, who’s whole job supported and appreciated nudity. But it was exactly how he felt–exposed. He wasn’t in the middle of a sex scene, he wasn’t posing nude for a couple of good stills. He was just lying there on a bed, his torn tights revealing a large bit of his ass. He didn’t have a shirt on, the black girdle he wore covering most of his midsection and leaving the fluff of his chest bare. He’d long since ditched his panties–which he’d tossed to someone in Wardrobe off set.

Which just left him and the all-encompassing stares of his watcher from the right.

“Okay, fixed. Angel, you hanging in there?” Vercelli asked, peeking up at Angel from the editing bay.

Angel Dust snapped to attention. “Yupp, all good here,” Angel lied, a wide smile sliding across his face as he raised his leg in a pointe.

Vercelli clapped his hands together, signifying that they were resuming the scene. “Okay, to recap, you’ve just torn up your own tights, you’re preparing yourself for–

“Light four is down again, sir.”

Vercelli dropped his script on the floor and it made a loud smack as it collided with the linoleum. “This fucking light,” he said under his breath.

“Sir, may I escort Angel back to his room?” Xy asked, a cold sweat forming on her brow.

Vercelli paused a moment and looked at Angel. “Fine, fine. Take a break Angel, we’ll call for you.” He closed his eyes to collect himself. “Beck!” He shouted.

Beck came out of nowhere to answer his call. “Yes, sir?”

“Get me Valentino. This is ridiculous. My greatest work yet and this fucking light–

“Light two is down.”

Before Vercelli had a chance to slide everything off the editing desk, Xy whisked Angel away to his dressing room. Angel wasted no time at all saying his goodbyes to her at the door and slamming it shut. He was desperate to have something separating himself and those eyes he felt were glued to every inch of his exposed flesh. He locked the door, peace filling his mind once he realized that he had true protection now.

Until he heard a soft knock on his door.

Fuck.

“Who is it?” Angel cooed, his voice raising slightly to come off as flirty in case it wasn’t who he thought it was.

“Angel Dust,” Tezan sang the syllables of his name. “You gonna let me in?”

Angel felt a shiver run down his spine. No. “Sure, suga, just let me get decent,” he cooed.

Tezan made a noise in the back of his throat outside the door. “No need, sweetheart.”

Angel Dust threw on his longest, fuzziest pink robe and went to the door. He took a second to prepare himself. A deep inhale, a wide smile, happy eyes. He wasn’t creeped out. He wasn’t creeped out. Angel unlocked the door silently and swung it open. He put a hand on his hip and gestured for Tezan to come inside.

“How did you like the shoot?” Angel asked. “Despite all the technical difficulties,” he added quietly.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been on a real set before,” Tezan said, waltzing past Angel. “It was very,” he paused behind Angel, looking over his shoulder and down at what little of his chest remained uncovered, “illuminating.”

Angel did his best not to cringe. He left the door of his dressing room wide open, instead choosing to cross the room and move towards one of the dressers that held a small collection of spirits. Angel selected a wine bottle from the front–a congratulatory bottle from Val for completing Geurrero’s film. He raised it, showing it off to Tezan.

“Some wine while we wait?”

Tezan sat on the chair beside Angel’s vanity. “Sure,” he said.

Angel poured two glasses quickly and handed one off to Tezan. “Here ya go.”

Tezan nodded in acknowledgement. “Vercelli wasn’t kidding, this really is some of his best work.”

Angel nodded. “How long have you been following his career? I haven’t starred in much of his films–but Valentino insisted that I give this role some of the ol’ Angel flare.”

Tezan took a sip of his wine. “I agree,” he said. “There’s just something about you in ripped tights.”

Angel Dust smiled reflexively. “You a fan of these legs’a mine?”

Tezan didn’t answer, instead choosing to meet Angel’s eyes. There was a certain heat in them that Angel recognized. They weren’t the eyes of a regular onlooker–plenty of investors had come to see Angel work and he’d had no trouble. Even his most die-hard fans knew when talent was traveling–but Tezan was different. He wasn’t just an investor, he was a consumer. And everything in his gaze told Angel Dust that he was prey.

From the way his eyes followed him around the room, to the way he lingered around the corners of the set. Always close–but never arising suspicion. In fact, this moment in Angel’s dressing room was the first time Tezan had done this. And of course no one outside was any the wiser. Tezan merely looked like someone Angel Dust had a long standing relationship with.

“When is your next film coming out?”

Angel took a moment to think about it. “Guerrero launches it a week from today. I did all the promos for it before Val signed me on with Vercelli.”

Tezan nodded. “You’re havin’ no trouble pickin’ up work since Val ditched that wannabe.”

Angel pressed the wine glass to his lips, getting a sample of the yellow liquid before pulling it away. He swirled the wine in his cup for a moment, eyes going half-lidded. “Oh honey, I neva have trouble pickin’ up work,” Angel leaned against the dresser behind him and crossed his legs at the ankle.

“That would have changed if Val had kept Brut on the payroll. Beck told me he was signing some lackluster talent.”

“Tread lightly,” Angel warned, playing off his obvious anger with manufactured pride, “he signed me afterall.”

Tezan took a pull on his glass, “That he did.”

Angel raised his eyebrows and slowly sipped his glass of wine. He swallowed quickly. Huh, he thought, bitter for a Moscato.

Angel Dust was on his way out of the studio when he stopped abruptly in the lobby. He looked through the glass doors–his eyes catching the shadowed silhouette of Tezan outside having a smoke. Angel could only guess why he was waiting outside so he turned around to head back to the elevator.

The doors opened swiftly and he pressed the button for the top floor–Valentino’s floor. He waited patiently in the elevator, listening to the soft music play before the doors opened again. He stepped out, legs carrying him to Val’s office.

“Angel,” Jax said. There was no alarm in his tone, because nothing truly surprised Jax, but Angel could tell that he was curious as to why he was here.

“Hey,” Angel said, stopping before him. “Is Val in?” Angel already knew the answer, but he waited for one anyway.

“He is currently unavailable.”

“But he’s in,” Angel said, affirming what they both knew. He stepped past Jax and opened the door to Val’s office. Jax protested, but there was little time for him to intervene as Angel had already disappeared behind the door.

“Angel,” Valentino sneered, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Angel crossed his office, his heels clacking as he made his way to Val’s desk.

“I heard there was trouble on set today,” Val said, picking up Angel’s side of the conversation. “Is that what has you all bothered?”

Angel stopped in front of Val, hands going on his hips. “The lights were Vercelli’s headache today, not mine.”

Valentino sat back in his chair, resting his foot on his knee. “And what was your headache Angel baby?”

Angel Dust looked at Val right in the eye, “Our newest investor is a fan of mine.”

Val chuckled, “So I’ve heard. He’s visited you everyday this week. What a spell you’ve got him under.”

Angel rested his palms on Valentino’s desk. “He can’t keep visiting me.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I don’t like him,” Angel said, furrowing his brow.

Valentino nodded his head. He put down his leg and pushed his chair out from under his desk. “Hmm,” he said absentmindedly as he stood. “You don’t like him.” Valentino turned around so his back was towards Angel.

“He’s distracting me,” Angel Dust said, eyes following Val as he began turning around.

Valentino’s hand swept backwards as he turned around–the back of his palm colliding with Angel’s cheek. “The next time you tell me what to do with my investors, you’ll get more than one.”

Angel stood up straight, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Why don’t you remind me why we’re working with that low-level scum in the first place?” Valentino asked–his tone venomous.

Angel said nothing, he didn’t move.

Valentino did not like that, he slammed his hands down on his desk. “Tell me why we’re working with him!” He yelled.

Angel flinched. “Because I fucked up,” Angel admitted quietly.

Valentino grabbed Angel’s chin roughly and pulled him close. He got so close Angel could smell his last cigarette. “Because you fucked up,” Val said through clenched teeth.

He released Angel roughly and he clattered backwards.

“Get out of my office,” Val said.

Angel kept his head down as he walked towards the door. He opened it quickly and closed it behind himself. Angel didn’t bother stopping to chat with Jax–he’d probably heard the entire exchange. All he wanted to do was put as much distance between him and Val as he could.

When Angel got back to the hotel, he went straight to his room–not bothering to greet anyone. Not that there was anyone to greet that afternoon. He stalked up the stairs–needing to blow off some steam–even after walking all the way home. Luckily he hadn’t run into Tezan outside. He must have left before Angel had come out. Thank fuck.

Angel went inside his room and locked the door behind him. He started undressing immediately, throwing his clothes across the room in organized piles on the floor. They ranged from rank, to soiled, to worn-once, and finally clean. It wasn’t a good system, but it was a system nonetheless.

Angel Dust looked around for his pink sweatpants–eager to get into something comfy so he could loaf around in self-pity. Before he started getting irrationally angry, he heard some soft oinking in the corner. Fat Nuggets revealed himself from one of Angel’s piles.

“Aw, Nugs, you found my pants!” Angel said happily. “I should have known they’d be in the pajama pile.”

Fat Nuggets jumped out of the way so that Angel could throw his pants on. Next, he tossed on an old black t-shirt. He collapsed onto his bed and Fat Nuggets joined him, hopping onto bed and begging for pats.

Angel conceded, giving his chin a scratch absentmindedly. But pig-lovin’ didn’t scratch that itch Angel had. He needed booze after a day like this one. His first thought was Cherri–they hadn’t talked much since Angel ghosted her after fucking over Agony and Brut. If he called her up wanting to drink he’d have to fill her in on all the bullshit. And that was if she wanted to hear anything he had to say.

He sat up, grabbing his phone from inside his purse and looking at their last conversation.

Damn bitch get it!

Angel frowned, remembering their conversation. Prior to Spitzers, before Tezan–before everything went sour. Well, he supposed it was always sour, but there were just enough sugar cubes in the lemonade to keep him sipping. Angel tucked his phone into his pocket and sat up, displacing Fat Nuggets enough for him to protest.

“Come on Nugs, follow Daddy,” Angel beckoned, his voice high.

Fat Nuggets did as requested and when Angel opened the door to his bedroom, he followed him down the hallway and to the elevator. It wasn’t five minutes before Angel was skirting through the lobby and to his seat at the bar. His seat, Angel scoffed. It was just the same stool he happened to grab each time he sat down with Husk.

“Husky, baby,” Angel said, waving him over once he got comfortable.

Husk looked over, his eyes already narrowed from the trials of the day. Despite the look on his face, Husk made his way right over.

“I was wonderin’ if you were gonna make your way down tonight.” Husk said absently as he tossed a hand towel over his shoulder.

Angel leaned in, covering his lips with his hand like he was keeping his next sentence a secret from the ghosts in the room, “Careful Husky, people are gonna think you like me.”

Husk shook his head. “You’re right, can’t have that.”

Angel rested his elbows on the bar, watching as Husk placed a pair of shot glasses and a pair of drinking glasses in between them.

“What will it be tonight?” Husk asked, hands going on either side of the glasses waiting patiently for Angel’s response.

Angel made a face like he was indecisive. “Hmm,” he said. “Hit me with the Pirate’s Booty or whatever.”

Husk rolled his eyes, “The Pirate’s Treasure,” he corrected him.

“Yeah, yeah, that one,” Angel smiled from ear to ear.

“Last time I made you that you couldn’t walk.”

Angel Dust put a hand up to dismiss him. “You still think I’m a lightweight?”

Husk smirked. “Tell ya what, if you can win it, then it’s yours.”

“Woah woah woah, winnin’ sounds like work,” Angel said.

Husk took a minute and assembled his “game”. He took three jiggers and placed them on the bar. Then he grabbed a napkin and crumpled it up into a tight ball. Angel looked dumbfounded at the mess he’d laid out before him. He raised an eyebrow.

“Did I win?” Angel asked, being an ass.

Husk then got to work making three shots. Angel was happy to report that he recognized every single one of them. First, a standard green tea shot, then the Naughty Neapolitan, and of course, the star of the show: the Pirate’s Treasure. Then, Husk assembled three shots of water, tonic and sour mix.

Husk grabbed the jiggers and lined them up in a row. Then, when he was sure Angel was paying attention, he began explaining. “I’ll hide the ball under one of my cups–you guess which one is hiding it. You guess right, you get a shot.”

Angel smirked. “Sounds fun,” he said. “Alright, I’m game, but you betta get ready to make a whole lot of shots.”

Husk chuckled. “Yeah kid, I’m ready.”

Angel made a gesture for Husk to start. Angel concentrated on the three jiggers, watching as Husk hid it under the middle one. Then, in an instant, Husk began moving the jiggers seemingly in unison, switching their places with practiced precision. Angel watched in horror as he realized that he might just be severely outmatched.

Husk paused, “Which one has the ball?”

Angel looked up at him, the betrayal he felt reflecting on his visage.

Husk choked on a laugh. “What? Too fast for ya?”

“You didn’t tell me that you were a savant.”

“You got a one-in-three chance, those are some good odds.”

Angel sighed and chose the jigger on his right. “That one,” he said with as much confidence as he had in that moment: zero.

Husk smiled wickedly, and when he raised the jigger, Angel saw no napkin ball. Without skipping a beat, Husk took the green tea shot.

“Hey hey woah, I thought those were for me?”

“If you win, if not they go to me.” Husk handed off the shot of water to Angel.

Angel huffed and crossed his arms. “Alright, next round. I’m playing seriously this time.”

“You weren’t already?”

Angel didn’t answer, instead he focused on Husk’s hands as they moved furiously on the bar. When he stopped, Angel pointed to the center jigger.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Angel narrowed his eyes.

Husk pulled the jigger up and there was no ball again. “Tonic for you,” he said with a shit-eating grin.

Angel growled, “Next round.”

Husk chuckled as Angel struggled to pick a jigger.

“You’re not allowed to laugh at me,” Angel said, trying to replay Husk’s movements in his mind to visualize where the ball was.

They had been playing this game for nearly an hour and Angel had only won a handful of shots. Four green tea shots, one Naughty Neapolitan and zero Pirate’s Treasures. He’d taken countless shots of water, tonic and sour mix–and frankly, he was getting tired of it. The worst part of the game was the more Angel won, the worse he played–while Husk only got better.

The alcohol seemed to make him looser, and his hands slid across the bar faster and lighter than they had before. This round, Angel wasn’t sure how he could possibly choose the right jigger. Everything went so fast. He wondered if he should just guess instead of trying to be logical about it.

“Giving up?” Husk asked.

Angel glared up at him. “Absolutely not,” he said, and chose the jigger to his left. “This one.”

Husk had genuine shock on his face when he pulled up the jigger and the napkin ball was resting beneath it. “Huh, did you guess?”

Angel smiled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Husk smirked and slid over Angel’s first Pirate’s Treasure of the night. “You earned it.”

Angel smiled as he grabbed the shot glass. He downed it in seconds–slamming the shot onto the table when done. “Fuck yeah, I did!” He scooted in his stool, which caught Husk’s attention.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Huh?” Angel said, clearly caught off guard. “Nah, just adjusting. Fat Nuggets is right below me.”

“So that’s where he went,” Husk said absentmindedly. “Do you want a cocktail next?”

Angel hmm’d and ha’d for a moment before he decided that yes, he did want a cocktail. “Malibu Bay Breeze,” he said happily.

Husk made quick work of the drink and in moments, it was standing before Angel.

Angel slid it over and took an excited sip. “You have no idea how much I missed this,” he sighed. “I went to a bar some levels down and it was the worst thing I’ve eva put in my mouth.”

Husk’s ears perked up at that. “Oh yeah?”

“Would I lie to you?”

Husk shrugged, “Must have been a shit-place if they can’t get a Bay Breeze right.”

Angel played with the ice in his drink by swirling it with his straw. “Only thing worse was the company. I was on a job.”

Husk didn’t say anything, merely cleaned up the aftermath of their game. But, just because he wasn’t responding did not mean that he was uninterested in what Angel had to say. As much time as they spent together, Angel picked up on a few things.

Their silences were never uncomfortable–Angel realized that immediately. If there was a lull, by no means did either of them need to fill the silence with more chatter. Topics came and went as simply as breathing. Angel also noticed that when he was sitting at the bar with Husk, he didn’t have to put on airs. Where he would normally lie through his teeth before, he didn’t bother masking things or sugar-coating. If work sucked, he said it sucked.

Oh, and he also figured out Husk’s tell. That was worth noting.

“Who had the pleasure of ruining your day?”

Angel groaned just thinking about the disaster that was his work life. “A new investor for Mista Valentino. He’s a jealous man for someone who has so much.”

Husk nodded like he understood. Which, even if he didn’t, was a comfort.

“He’s been up my ass at the studio,” Angel complained, “but he’s got a lot of sway with Val right now.”

Husk nodded along.

Angel rested his head on the bar. He needed to think of some way he could fight against Tezan when he was at the studio. If he had to be in the same building as him, he could at least try and play some offense. Problem was, Angel had no idea what to do. How do you avoid someone that can literally go wherever they please?

“There’s not much I can do to get away from him,” he closed his eyes.

“Then don’t ‘get away’,” Husker said without looking towards him.

Angel picked his head up from the bar. “What?”

“He can’t get you alone if you’re surrounded by people.”

Angel took a moment to think that through–despite all the shots swirling around in his stomach. Huh, he thought, surround himself. Husk had a point, Tezan couldn’t be up his ass if everyone was around. He’d be in the way–which was not what you could be when you worked for Valentino.

Angel nodded, “That’s a good idea. Thanks.”

Husk shrugged his shoulders, “No problem.”

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