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peachysunrize · 2 days ago

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Hide & Seek ⥃ Vampire!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: the nightly mysterious deaths make you wonder, but your grandma’s disappearance pulls the last straw. You go to see it for yourself if the myth about the creature of the dark is true and find your granny to take her home.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Dark content!! Manipulation!! Vampire!Aemond, smut, chasing & haunting, death, gore, Beauty & The Beast inspired! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, predator & prey, p in v, breeding, biting, blood & blood licking, stabbing, punching, English is not my first language<3

Word count: 4.6k+

A/n: soooo I talked to a @anjelicawrites about this idea and decided to write it so thank you for tolerating me and helping me with this idea!! also a very special thank you to @sylasthegrim for beta reading this piece for me<33 It’s inspired by Ewan’s outfit and I CANT WAIT TO KNOW YOUR OPINION ON THIS!! Comments & reblogs are so appreciated!

I don’t have a taglist for my one shots so please follow and turn on the notifications of @peachysunrizefics !

It is past midnight when you are woken up by the loud bangs on the door, yelling and pounding on the wood as someone calls your name. It is strange, no one comes to your house at such an ungodly hour, especially if they know your grandmother has trouble sleeping.

You gather your nightgown in your fist before you step down from your bed, reaching for a woolen jacket to put on before you go and answer the door.

“Coming, coming,” you yell back, and as soon as the sleep is gone from your eyes, you take in your surroundings; nothing is in its place. The house is a mess with chairs broken in half, cushions torn apart, and window shards broken into a million pieces.

“What’s happened here?” you ask yourself as you walk cautiously towards the door, staying quiet as you fiddle with the locks, thinking your grandmother is sound asleep.

You find the baker's son on your door, frantic and panting. He looks at you with wide eyes, his hands trembling, and he tries to stutter the words out.

“Y-you—“

“What’s going on? Has something happened?” you ask, wrapping the jacket around yourself tighter. You look at the poor shaking boy before you notice footprints on the snow from your house to the town. “Talk, boy.”

“Granny…” he says with fear, teeth clacking as he talks, “S-she was seen walking towards the woods with someone—“

“Are you out of your mind?” you ask in disbelief, scoffing when the boy shakes his head. “Granny is asleep inside. She sleepwalks, true, but she knows how dangerous nighttime is.”

“We thought she was on a walk with you!” He tries again, sounding desperate, “When we didn’t see her coming back we came to you! Everyone knows the myths about this town and nightly disappearances. We… we fear that your grandmother is…the newest victim.”

You laugh loudly, holding your belly as shocked laughs escape your mouth. Even the idea of your granny taking a walk is hilarious but to think of her getting kidnapped by the stranger of the night seems… unrealistic.

“I shall wake her up now,” you whisper, running back inside, jumping over the ruined furniture, and as you take in the messy room; the damage is far too severe for it to be merely sleepwalking gone wrong.

“Granny?” you say in a low tone, deep down hoping she is asleep under her flower-embroidered blanket. But when you open the door, the gasp you let out is heard from the other side of the house, “No, no, no…”

“Miss—“

“Where are you, Granny?” you scream and try to make sense of the things happening around you. Your grandmother is not in her bed, her room is a mess, in fact, your entire house is. You wrap the jacket around yourself tighter, wiping your tears as you walk back to the front door to talk to the boy.

“Describe the person you saw,” you demand, your nails digging into the palm of your hands, waiting for the boy to talk, “Was it… was it as the tales say? Tall and pale, one eye carved out and teeth soaked in blood?”

“W-we could not see very clearly,” he stutters, rubbing his sweaty hand against his ripped pants, shivering under the cold wind and your much colder and teary gaze, “B-but he was tall! He… he had a long coat too and long hair as well! I did not see his face but-but I am sure his hair was as white as snow!”

“Go find a scythe in the basement and bring it to me,” you glare at the young boy when he looks back at you with wide eyes and parted lips like a fish, “Go, now. I’ll fetch the horse.”

“Where are you going?” He asks, voice shaking and hesitating, “Please, Miss, at least tell me so I can help you!”

“Enough is enough,” you wipe the tears that keep falling from your eyes, walking away from the boy to go to your room and grab a thick cloak, “I can not stand and see how people act oblivious about all the disappearances! My Granny… my sweet Granny was taken away by a man! There is no evil creature in the woods, just a man with a hunger for blood. That human is sick in the head, and should be struck down!”

“You shouldn’t go to search for Granny! People have died on that route, they have been taken to God knows where. We do not need you to go missing as well!”

“I will not,” you wrap the cloak around you tighter before you march outside, the poor boy following you with a hammer in hand he grabbed from behind a couch.

“Then let us accompany you—“

“No,” you reply, panting as you move through the snow towards your stable, petting your horse before you bring it out, grabbing a saddle, and fastening it around the horse’s body, “I will do it on my own, we have enough losses already. I will find Granny and others, trust me.”

“Please, it’s too reckless to go into the woods at such an ungodly hour! Especially now that we know that creature has Granny! Miss, let me go and tell my father about this—“

“Don’t say a word to anyone, do you hear me?” you grab the boy by his collar, pulling him closer so you can whisper harshly in his ear, “He might have ears everywhere. Tell your father about this if I do not come home in a day.”

“This is absurd! You are putting yourself in grave danger—“

“Nothing will happen to me,” you kiss his forehead before grabbing the horse’s reins and jumping over the saddle, “I will find everyone and come back, and if I am lucky enough, I will kill that man.”

“Go in grace, Miss!” he yells and hands you the hammer, petting the horse and making sure your saddle is tight and ready for a run toward the woods, “Save us from the creatures of the dark!”

“I will!” you bolt through the snow, holding the reins with one hand and the other dropping the hammer into the pocket of your cloak mindlessly as you guide the horse towards the entrance of the woods.

The crows are crowing, flapping their wings, and flying away as soon as your horse reaches them. The signs are unclear, covered in thick snow as if their old writings are not fading away already.

The howling of the wolves makes you shiver in fear. Their voices are getting clearer and closer, and you need to follow the path that leads to… somewhere. You have no idea where, perhaps a cottage, or a house, or even a castle. Based on the rumors it must be a castle, or the ruins of it at least.

The tales used to be funny, a bedtime story for little kids, but as soon as the disappearances started, things turned out for the worse. It felt as if the creature’s long-lasting savings of food of are finished and his hunger is now looming over the city.

You turn to the left, your horse resisting and neighing before suddenly the voices of the wolves grow closer. You bolt through the path, trying to escape the voices before you stumble upon a huge gate.

Your horse is startled by the darkness surrounding the gate, and behind the freezing bars, there rests a castle in all its glory; the building is huge, and the path leading to its entrance is surrounded by neatly cut bushes. The castle’s terraces are filled with statues of unknown creatures.

You jump down from your horse, shushing the poor animal before you walk towards the gate, examining the lock that held the doors together. Grabbing your hammer from your pocket, you swing the heavy object, trying to break the lock in one swing — the first attempt is a miss, you knock the metallic bars and create a loud sound. The second time, you hit the lock but the impact is not powerful enough to break it.

The third time's a charm; with one swing, you break the lock, fiddling with the broken thing to pull it out and open the gates for yourself.

But when you look up, you notice a flickering light coming from one of the empty terraces, and a shadow is hidden in the dark. Someone is there, you are sure of that because the glinting of a clear gemstone can be seen under the moonlight even from such a great distance.

The glinting is gone as soon as you guide your horse past the gates and towards the entrance of the castle, trying to hold it from rearing back and leaving you alone, but it is a lost cause when the animal is strong enough to knock you down and run out of this creepy place.

You sigh, tightening your grip around the hammer as you slowly push the large doors open, a rush of wind knocking you back as soon as you step inside, slamming the doors shut behind you.

You grab your hammer with both hands, cautiously walking inside the large room, looking around to find a candle so you can at least see where you are heading. Eventually, you reach a table with a burning candle on it at the bottom of the stairs. Picking it up before it ends, you make your way to a half-opened door, leading to a large dining room.

The room is cold, much colder than a human being to be able to live in, and at first glance, besides the dining table and a dusty fireplace, it looks as if no one has touched it in years.

You walk further inside the room, noticing the spider webs all over the walls and couches, even on the chairs and the empty plates — all except for one. The only chair that looks clean is on the other head of the table with an identical empty plate in front of it. But what catches your attention is not the plate, it is the full goblet next to it.

You examine the goblet, noticing the red stains around the rim, thinking of the wine this evil creature must have been having. But the smell is quite unlikely from whatever you have ever drank. No wine smells like metal nor is it so thick.

You grab the goblet and swirl the liquid in it, spilling a little on yourself before you bring the edge of it to your lips, tasting the liquid. You have never gagged so harshly in your life before, but now, you gag, cough, and spit the blood out.

You back away from the table quickly, dropping the goblet on the floor. You notice a trail of blood on the hardwood, leading to the corner of the room, hiding under the shadows. With slow and shaky steps, you follow the trail, gasping when you see your Granny lying there, no color on her face and her neck torn open.

Granny, your sweet precious Granny who took you in after your parents’ death is now dead in a creepy unknown castle possibly haunted by a mysterious man.

You fall on your knees next to her, letting go of the hammer as you pull her in your arms, holding her close as you sob atop her. Not in even a thousand years you could have thought about her dying like this; with so little dignity, bitten and bloodied like an animal.

Your eyes catch a shadow moving right outside of the door, merging with the darkness under the flickering candlelight. The shadow is long, and you can figure out a person’s silhouette as you slowly lower your grandma on the floor, grabbing your hammer before approaching the door without making any noise.

Slipping out the door, you follow the shadow into another hall, much larger and emptier than before, only decorated with one loveseat in front of a cold fireplace and a few empty goblets on a table next to the arm of the chair. The walls are covered in different portraits of different people, but you can see how all of them have two similar traits to your unknown haunter — long silver hair and red eyes.

“Hmm.”

You whip your head towards the sound, gripping the handle of the hammer tightly as you search for the source. You are scared, terrified even. Who wouldn’t be if they found their grandmother dead with blood gushing out of her while they tried to make sense of the creature who only was supposed to be a fantasy? A myth not worth exploring?

“I wonder if you taste just as sweet as you smell.”

“Step into the light!” you scream, your voice echoing in the room as you try to keep your breathing even, “Show yourself, you monster!”

“Monster?” He sounds so sweet, so calming and soothing, “Sweet lamb, I am anything but a monster.”

“You killed my grandmother!” you hold back a sob as you turn around yourself, trying to figure out where he is standing, “I should kill you myself, y-you murdered all those people! You kidnapped them and-and—“

“I did not murder them against their will,” he is walking around the room, hidden in the dark, but his footsteps can be heard as he talks, “They were all on the brink of death, I took mercy upon them, and in return, well… I feasted upon them.”

“Who are you?” You yell back, walking to where you think he might be, swinging your hammer in hopes of breaking a bone or two, “What are you, monster?”

“I am the Kinslayer your tales talk about,” he tells you, chuckling when he feels you shiver, “The long forgotten blood thirsty prince.”

“Step out, coward! If you are a kinslayer as you say, then you fear nothing! Step out and show yourself to me!”

“Oh, no, no, sweet lamb,” he hums again, his footsteps growing more distant, “I will not show myself to you so easily. You have come to my home, interrupted my meal. You are in no position to demand anything.”

“I will not leave until I kill you,” you reply, swinging the hammer and throwing it at the shadow, screaming when a loud bang echoes in the hall, alerting you that you have once more missed your aim, “I will haunt you down the way you did to all those poor people!”

“Excellent!” he chuckles once more, and you can feel him circling around you, “Let us play a game, sweet lamb; I hide and you haunt me, and if you catch me, I am yours to do as you please.”

“And if I don’t?” you pant, nails digging into your palms as you try to follow his footsteps, “What will happen to me?”

“We shall see.”

Then you feel him leave the room, his shadow following him outside. You bolt after him, trying to keep up with him but soon you lose track of his shadow.

You have no idea what part of the castle you are in now; a large staircase leads to two wings of the castle, and each one probably contains many rooms and halls. Figuring he would follow you either way, you choose to go to the west wing, skipping a step or two on your way up as you try to find another hall and a weapon to wield.

With ragged breaths, you reach another hall, a much larger one that you assume used to be a dance hall filled with lords and ladies, and much to your luck, you find metallic armors resting on a wall, holding a sword in their hands.

Before you can run towards them, you see a glance of the man’s white hair flowing in the wind before he’s gone again. The room is quiet and dark, but you can pinpoint where things rest thankfully due to the bright moonlight.

“Come out!” you yell, making your way to one of the armors and grabbing a sword before you see the glint of his eye for one second and disappearing again.

You try to follow his steps, or even the air that thickens when he walks away, but all is lost when you can not find him in another hall. You could be lost already for all you know, you could be in the heart of the castle where no one can hear your screams while he tears through your flesh, or you through his.

The sword is heavy but it is necessary as you carry it to the other halls attached to the bigger ones — it looks like a maze, a mind game he has created just to trap someone like you inside and have his fill with of.

You are doing your very best, but even the strongest soldiers grow weak sometimes. Stopping in the middle of a much smaller hall, you look around and take your surroundings in; a small table is next to one of the walls with cuffs attached to the sides of the table, red blood stains cover the wooden surface and you finally realize you have walked into the lion’s den with your own feet.

This room is for his victims, people he takes his time with to pull out layers of skin one by one and lick the blood off of the wounds.

“Welcome, sweet lamb.”

You turn around quickly, holding the sword up as best as you can as he finally walks inside the room with a candle in hand, revealing himself to your angry eyes.

“You lost,” you say shakily, your hands trembling as you struggle to keep the heavy metal up, pointing it at the pale human in front of you, “Now tell me what you are.”

“Oh, sweet sweet lamb, I did not lose,” he chuckles, one hand behind his back while the other puts the candle on the table, his white hair framing his face as he looks down at his shoes before his one eye meets your frightened gaze, “I found you, which means…”

“Don’t you dare come closer,” you say through gritted teeth, holding the sword tighter in your hand while you take a step back as soon as he takes one forward, “I fucking won, now tell me what is going on?”

“Shh,” he holds his hand behind his back, his long black coat makes him even taller than he must be, and with the way he walks towards you, it starts a fire within you, a fire so bright and burning that has you breathing faster, “I told you; I am the Kinslayer from centuries ago. Aemond Targaryen, the one-eye prince.”

“That’s impossible!” you cry out when he steps closer, wrapping your fingers around the sword as hard as you can, ready to strike if he comes much closer, “Targaryens died at least three hundred years ago! You were wiped off because of what you did to people! What you are now doing to my people!”

“My family died because they were fools,” he leans a bit down, his one red eye glimmering under the orange light of the candle, “They died because they thought begging nicely for a drop of blood would keep them safe. Only I was clever enough to find a way to survive.”

“By killing people! By murdering innocent humans who were happy an hour before you took them in!”

He steps closer until the tip of the sharp blade is pressed against his chest, but he does not back away, not really. He is not scared of death, that much is visible, but he also loves to play, and that makes it much harder to resist him. He is trying to lure you in, to hurt him, to somehow make the first move so he would not be responsible for what may come next.

“You kill animals to cook, I like my meals fresh, warm, and immediate,” he raises his hand to the blade, wrapping his fingers around it before he pulls you closer, his blood leaking on the sword and the floor as he keeps tightening his grip, “I drink to survive, and I play to live.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” your lips quiver as you say, “You have to pay for what you did to my Granny, I will make sure of it.”

“Be my guest, sweet lamb.”

You do just as he wants, wielding the sword quickly and cutting through his hand, going for another blow before he slams you to the wall behind you with his foot, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

Another swing is thrown in his way, and you try to control the heavy object in your hands but he is fast, too fast to your liking, and dodges all the clumsy moves easily, his white hair swinging behind him with each puff and sigh he makes.

With one slap to your wrists, you drop the sword and fall on the floor, looking up at him with teary furious eyes. He only smirks and kneels before you, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear but you take your chance and punch him in the jaw, pushing him down on his back before climbing on top of him, holding his rests next to his head as best as you can while he recovers from the blow.

“I will torture you until you are begging me—uff—“

He flips you over effortlessly, holding you down on the stone cold floor with one knee between your thighs and his crotch pressing your hips down while he holds both of your wrists over your head.

“You are as sick as I am in the head,” he leans down, his hot breath ghosting against your face as he speaks, “You are enjoying this.”

“I am not!” A lie, you know it is a lie, he knows it is a lie. You do enjoy this little game, you love the thrill of killing him and fighting with him. The rage inside you bubbles more with each passing second that you are in his presence, “I would rather die—“

“I will not kill you until I have had my fill,” he whispers, hiding his face into your neck as he sniffs you, “Fuck, you smell so divine, I need to taste you, sweet lamb…”

“Fuck!” You let out a noise between a scream and a moan when he bites down on your shoulder just above your collarbone, his fangs pushing past your flesh as he reaches deep inside and starts sucking harshly, “You monster!”

He only hums and smiles, his thin lips wrapped tightly around the open wound — he can not get enough. He knew how sweet you smelled, your scent drove him crazy as soon as you stepped inside his castle but to get to taste you? Licking and gulping down your blood like a starved man is something he did not expect, especially when you are still alive and writhing beneath him in pain and pleasure.

He can make you taste even sweeter.

“You call me a monster while you are rocking your hips to relieve some of the ache between your thighs,” he says as he lets go of the wound, his chin and teeth covered in crimson red, “So pathetic of you, sweet lamb.”

You do not have anything to say, not really because he is already pushing your nightgown up to your hips with his free hand while his other is undoing your cloak. You shiver when the cold air of the room hits your heated inner thighs, your pearl throbbing in anticipation and primal desire.

He is just as mesmerized as you are when he rips your underwear to shreds and runs his

fingers through your wet folds, enticing a whine from you. He has you right where he wants.

You writhe beneath him as he circles your nerves with his thumb, making your body tremble with each stroke, your cunt clenching around nothing, wetness dribbling out of your hole in need.

“It’s my time to play,” he announces and reaches between your bodies to free his already aching cock, stroking a few times until it stands in full hardness.

He wiggles around a little while you try to free yourself from his grasp, not trying to yield too quickly, but the look on his face is enough to make you whimper and spread your legs further for him.

Aemond guides the tip of his weeping cock to your entrance, pushing in completely with one swift thrust, drawing a loud moan from your sweet lips as he sheathes himself inside you fully, filling you up nicely.

Your walls grip his length tightly, pulsing and squeezing him every few seconds before he starts moving, his hips snapping into yours as he holds himself up with one hand pushing your wrists into the floor harshly while the other holds his body up.

Your back arches off the stones, legs wrapping around his waist as your mind goes to another place, taking his cock like the sweet lamb he calls you, allowing him to take and take from you — he has prepared you after all with his silly games of hide and seek, seeding the thrill inside you.

“I shall keep you alive,” he groans in your ear as he once more moves his head to the wound he created, licking the blood from your shoulder while his cock nudges the deepest part of your cunt, making your body quiver in sheer pleasure, “Your blood is too sweet for me to waste. I will keep you here with me, as my doomed queen while I feast upon you every night, leaving open wounds for me to drink from whenever I desire—“

With a newfound strength, you wrap your legs around his waist tightly and flip him over until his head hits the stone floor and you free yourself from his grip.

Now with you on top, you take the lead, riding his cock as best as you can. Hands spread on his covered chest while you rock your hips front and back, moaning like a harlot in heat as you bring both of you to the edge of euphoria.

He falls apart first; the sight of you on top of him while half of your body is covered in blood is too much for him. It has been too long since he has had a woman bedding him, but now, with a sweet lamb like you trying to bring some pleasure to yourself by using him, he is a gone man.

He paints your insides white with his cum, and you lean back on his shin to make room for yourself, bouncing on top of him faster when suddenly you feel a dagger in his boots.

The sudden revelation makes you climax right after him, your wetness gushing around his girth as you ride the centuries-old vampire to your pleasure while you pull the dagger out as best as you can with your entire body shaking in pleasure.

“Sweet lamb—“

His voice is lost when you stab him in the heart, not once, not twice, but five times, screaming and crying while you keep stabbing him until there is enough blood to bathe in, but even then, you do not stop. You slit his throat as well, and it is then that you feel his body soften and go limp completely.

You drop the bloodied dagger and try to move, completely pulling yourself away from his body as he bleeds out and his seed drips out of your sensitive cunt.

You took your revenge, now all you can do is hope for his seed to rot and die inside of you, or you will have to bear the offspring of a dead vampire legacy.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #rue writes✍️#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut

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shapelytimber · 3 days ago

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Wanted to paint some of my favorite characters, nothing more nothing less

[COMMISSIONS]

Way too much yapping like an embarrassing amount, the individual portraits and the template I used below vvv

I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters- especially to people who (presumably) don't know them xjfkdk apart from the very popular ones ofc

ILLYA KURYAKIN (The man from U.N.C.L.E)

gay ass little Russian spy I love him he is so *dramatic* and a huge nerd and a Beatles fan and into fashion design- perfect pocket size blorbo ;w; also seeing a Russian character being given a positive leading role in an American tvshow from the 60s ?? Yes he lives in New York and works for UNCLE America.... But he is still a communist ?? Incredible ! Also I really like the fact he isn't given the cliché personality traits often given to Russian characters i e anger issues drinks a lot violent ect (looking at you shitty(imo) modern remake... What did you do to my little guy ;;). In a close contest with Spock for the "gayest man from tvshow" of the 60s..... And in my heart he is winning djdkd for me the gay subtext of muncle hits so much more because it's not a scifi show- it's closer to home, Napoleon and Illya were *like that* in the present day of the 60s, they were both human, and no alien fuckery made them go to the village more than once or play house in the suburbs or get attached ass up to get pegged on a regular basis... Truly a show that feels written by an old queen and a guy with the biggest fem dom fetish jkvjjkb (don't get me wrong tho I adore star trek tos and spirk too <3)

KUROO HAZAMA and PINOKO (Black Jack)

sometimes I rewatch some of the oavs from the 90s when I'm sad :) I had a huge phase a couple years back when I read nearly all the manga (should really finish it... Or reread the whole thing frankly), watched *all* the shows (bar young black jack, hated that shit) and idk I just love this venal bitch so much- him and his daughter and his conflicted feelings for his tboy ex that he still loves kfkfkf btw I'm dying for a modern take on this like please please please I'd love to see Kei Kisaragi's story rewritten a bit (trans character in the 70s sure was progressive but oh boy-), because him and black jack's relationship makes me so *weak*.... And maybe see him a bit more than in one story- anyway ! When it comes to his daughter Pinoko, it's very hit or miss- when the writers lean on the cute father adoptive daughter relationship it's great, when they lean more on the whole "she has a crush on him" (very much like a child in most case, and he *never* reciprocate thank god) and bring up the fact she is technically 18 a lot (she was an evil tumor trapped in her sister before he created a body for her- black jack shit dw), and she gets jealous of other women.... Well it's terrible and I'm uncomfy :(

EVA KANT (Diabolik)

Look.... You just can't show me danger diabolik 1968 and not expect me to become insane djdkdkdk she is so cool ;; !!! Her and her devious eel of a man (here as a panther, because even tho I haven't read the comic yet, I'm taking an educated guess that all the panther imagery is here to represent him, the lethal twunk always in the all black gimp suit... And if it's not then fuck my entire life ig fjfkkd), the cuntiest het couple you've ever seen, such freaks I love them ! Partners in crime that will blow up the tax offices of the whole country if you try to put a bounty on them <3 they are in the guilty faves category only because I'm this invested in these characters after 1 (one) movie fkfkf watched the first two remakes and was hmmm let's say underwhelmed, could have been worse but going after the 60s one ie peak cinema was hard... I went in fully invested in these heterosexuals and they still fucked up their romance and relationship ;; (don't spoil me the third one btw haven't seen it yet ! I know it's the yaoi one- which doesn't give me much hope for Eva tbh...) I'll soon start reading the comics tho ! Managed to find all twelve volumes of "Il grande Diabolik" in french for pretty cheap so I'm excited for that :D (might scan them and upload them online because omg I tried finding scans in *any* language and only found a dubious website that sold digital copies for 7€ a volume ??? What is this)

UTA (The Void / Тургор / Turgor / Tension)

Apathy girlyyyyy she just like me for real for real nfkfk what absolutely charmed me about her is yes her design, but more importantly her chamber's design (if you've never played the void, a sister's chamber is a space that represent her. You get a sense of who she is by exploring her chamber before finding her and talking to her soul it's great). The lonely island out at sea, her laying down on a suspended steel boat in a grotto, looking passively at the moon by a crack on the ceiling.... And the moon is looking back. Incredible ! I love this game so much

KIM KITSURAGI (Disco Elysium)

Do I really have to explain this one ? When I played the game with quiji I remember I kept saying "when Kim talks, we *listen*" djkdk we did get a good grade in Kim Kitsuragi and got him to dance in the church <3 this fucking centrist cop wormed it's way into my heart and many others because of course he did. The only Kim K in my eyes. Also funny anecdote : before I played Disco Elysium, I had one concept art masterclass where a kinda famous concept artist came to give advice, make us really stressed then give us a shitty grade.... And when I tell you this man looked so much like Kim ??? Same haircut, glasses, face with a scar *exactly* where Kim's portrait has a stark shadow on his cheek and he was dressed in an orange top- truly uncanny. Anyway, Kim is so fucking cool how does he do it

DARK VADOR (La guerre des étoiles)

*sight* not surprising if you know me... and to be clear when I say Vader I don't mean Anakin Skywalker, post barbecue only zouz here. I refuse to yap about this man djdkdk I already do that way to much in ao3 comment sections

And here is the template I used ! Don't know who made it tho sorry...

PS : all these where made in 2-3 hours each :D wanted to challenge myself by painting quickly, and I mostly (looking at the Eva Kant one that gave me trouble) succeeded !

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crushpunky · 6 hours ago

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actress!reader calls drew on phoning it in

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based on this ask. i didn’t have an exact interview to base this off of, so it’s a bit of a compilation of a bunch of different ones lol. also easter egg for a diff fic i’ve done, iykyk

“Hi, I’m y/n y/ln and I’m here with Elle to call some people!” Y/n said with a giggle. She crossed her legs, flipping through the small notebook they had handed her until she got to the first challenge.

Call someone and… tell them you’re stuck in an elevator

“Oh god… ok, I’m gonna call Miss Madelyn Cline. She has a fear of elevators so this is perfect.” Y/n said, putting her phone on speaker as it rang.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” Madelyn answered happily. Y/n took a second, getting into character before responding.

“Mads you’re not gonna believe this but I’m literally stuck in a [bleep]-ing elevator right now.” Y/n said, her voice shaky. Madelyn gasped on the other end before letting out a shriek.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Have you— have you called the fire department?” Madelyn said.

“I did and they said it was gonna be like two hours… I don’t know what to do.” Y/n groaned, a smile on her face.

“Are you by yourself? Is Drew with you?” Madelyn responded.

“I’m by myself and I…” A smirk came across y/n’s lips as an idea popped into her head, “I’m scared I’m gonna pee my pants if they don’t hurry the [bleep] up!”

“Oh my god… do you have like a bottle or something?” Madelyn whispered lowly, causing y/n to burst out in laughter at her serious tone.

“I’m so sorry Mads, I was just kidding. It was a prank. I’m in an interview with Elle.” Y/n giggled. Madelyn gasped on the other end.

“I hate you!” Madelyn groaned.

“I love you, bb!” Y/n smiled.

“Ugh, I love you too.” Madelyn said.

Call someone and… tell them you’re starting a singing career

“I am a notoriously bad singer, so this ought to be good.” Y/n laughed, putting the notebook down and scrolling through her contacts.

“Ok, ok… I’m going to call my good friend Tom Blyth.” Y/n said, pressing “call” and putting the phone on speaker. The phone rang for a moment, y/n sitting in anticipation.

“Hey, what’s up?” Tom greeted happily.

“So I just wanted to ask your opinion on something kinda important.” Y/n said, her tone serious.

“Alright… are you ok? Is everything good?” Tom responded, his voice low and full of concern.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Y/n said. “I just wanted to get your opinion on me starting a music career… like singing.”

“Music? Oh that’s nice… are you like– have you talked to your manager?” Tom said on the other line. Y/n covered her mouth, hoping he couldn’t hear her giggles.

“No, I just wanted to get some opinions before I really made that step… what do you think? Is that a good move?” Y/n asked, biting her lip as she waited for Tom’s response.

“You’re very talented, so I think if you put your mind to it you could do it.” Tom responded. Y/n placed a hand over her heart at Tom’s kindness.

“Tom you’re too sweet… this is for an interview. There’s no way in hell I’m starting a singing career anytime soon.” Y/n said. Tom laughed on the other end of the line.

“Oh come on, you’re a great singer.” Tom said sarcastically. Y/n shared a final farewell before hanging up the phone and returning to the notebook in front of her.

Call someone and… apologize for accidentally leaking their phone number

“Ooh… oh, I’m gonna scare the crap out of Drew.” Y/n giggled, calling Drew. The phone rang, y/n sitting in silence as it continued.

“... if he answers. He’s awful at—” Y/n started.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?” Drew answered, a smile spreading across y/n’s face.

“Drew… I’m so sorry…” Y/n said, her voice low.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” Drew responded urgently.

“I’m fine I just… ugh, you’re going to be so mad at me…” Y/n groaned, really dragging her reaction out.

“I promise I won’t be. Please just tell me what happened— are you sure you’re ok?” Drew said, his voice laced with concern.

“I… I’m so sorry I… I accidentally leaked your phone number. On Instagram.” Y/n said with an exaggerated sniffle. She could hear Drew let out a sigh on the other end, a smile creeping across her face.

“Jesus, baby, you scared the crap out of me. T– That’s fine, I can get a new one.” Drew responded.

“You’re not mad at me?” Y/n said quietly.

“No, no, no of course not. I don’t give a [bleep] as long as you’re ok.” Drew said, causing y/n’s cheeks to warm.

“Oh, Drewseph, I love you. That was just a prank. I’m in an interview with Elle.” Y/n said with a giggle.

“You scared the [bleep] out of me, oh my god!” Drew chuckled on the other end.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Y/n frowned playfully.

“You’re gonna kill me, baby.” Drew said with a sigh.

“I love you, Drewseph.” Y/n grinned.

“Love you too. See you when you get home.” Drew said.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x actress!reader #actress!reader

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goingmerryfics · 2 days ago

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HELLO!!! sorry if I request again because I really like how you write😔👊, I come with another request, something that I saw once in a fanfic and I loved the idea, it could be any other character you want but I see it more in Sanji (don't let it be obvious that I'm a Sanji lover HAHAH) well the issue is discovering that the character always carries with him a photo of gn!reader, whether it is a photo of them or the wanted poster of gn!reader

Carrying My Love With Me - Sanji, Shachi, Bartolomeo

Content: SFW, these boys are in love with you, strawhat reader in Barto’s, only Sanji’s is an explicit established relationship

Notes* Noooo please don’t apologize I love getting engagement :D and I finally get a prompt that I feel is perfect for my boy Barto!!

Sanji

Sanji is not shy at all about his picture of you that he keeps in his jacket pocket

He absolutely adores looking at you and your cute face, so when he has any excuse to pull that picture out, he does

He’ll use your photo to brag about you to other men all the time, claiming that you’re all his

That photo would always be in pristine condition, never letting anyone take it from him and making sure it doesn’t get destroyed after a battle

He would also pull it out anytime when he feels down, using your face as motivation in his dark times- even if it’s just him sulking over something

He takes out the photo while he’s cooking and sets it somewhere in sight. He talks to himself a lot as he cooks, so having your photo there makes him feel a little less silly

He promises your photo that he’s making this meal with love, and that he wishes he could share it with you

He does get a little embarrassed the next time he sees you and the crew rats on him about the photo, though

But after you’re reassurance that you think it’s sweet, he melts in your arms all over again, just like he always does

Shachi

What Shachi keeps with him is a picture of the two of you together

He hides it in his pillowcase, not wanting anyone to find it and make fun of him

He’s weirdly sensitive about the crew thinking he’s soft or something

But when you’re not around, it’s nice to have a piece of you nearby to hang onto

He pulls it out when he’s alone just to look at you- to study your eyes and the shape of your nose with a goofy little smile on his face

When people are around or he just wants to hold onto something while he’s lying down, he’ll put his arm into his pillow case and just hold onto the picture with his eyes closed, picturing you beside him, pretending he’s got you in his arms

Shachi is a romantic, he’s just too ashamed to admit it

The day Penguin is on laundry duty, he finds it and teases his friend relentlessly about it, holding it up in the dining hall and loudly proclaiming that he didn’t know his best friend had a girlfriend, and how could he not share this information?

A lot of chaos ensues, and after some teasing he snatches it back possessively

Bartolomeo

With you being a Strawhat, of course he’s got your wanted poster hung up in his room!

Luffy and his crew are his number one, and he loves Luffy, but you and him definitely had a special kind of relationship

Anytime you two meet, there’s always flirting involved

More from you than him, because he’s losing his mind with each compliment and sexual innuendo that comes out of your mouth

He didn’t expect that when he’d met you at first and went wild, swearing up and down that he’d do anything you asked just to hear your heavenly voice speaking like that again

So that picture is special to him, and he ends up fawning over it quite often- especially whenever he feels like he misses you

He rants to the crew all about how much he loves you to anyone that will lend him an ear (and to those who don’t, as well if there are anyone like that on the crew)

You make sure to sign it next time

#op sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #shachi one piece #shachi x reader #shachi op #one piece #hwop #harleyasks #harleywritesop #bartolomeo #bartolomeo the cannibal #bartolomeo one piece #bartolomeo x reader #op bartolomeo

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pedrosgrogu · 2 days ago

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Born Too Late - Chapter 7

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Warnings: MDNI!! angst, child “abandonment” (idk how else to explain forgetting Sarah at school im so sorry), mentions of sex, readers family being assholes, drinking, let me know if i missed something :)

Summary: Sarah’s mom forgets her at school, leading to a girl's afternoon. Joel still refusing to face you, makes for great conversation with Tommy. (1.5k+)

a/n: heyyyyy. *late* but as promised. this is more so a filler for next chapter which i will hopefully have within the coming days. also, love finally hanging with tommy and developing his character into more than just the drunk, in trouble younger brother. this is getting more and more traction every post or so, thank u!! its my first fic and im still v nervous but im glad you’re all enjoying it. i <3 feedback so pls feel free to always leave it. xoxox

“Okay everyone! Please dont forget about our test next Wednesday, and have a great Thanksgiving!” You yell as the bell rings, dismissing your students. Its the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and your school did early release today. Since its a holiday break, teachers can leave as soon as all students are gone, and next weeks plans are turned in.

You open your laptop to finish next weeks math lesson, and notice a new email from your dad.

Subject: Happy Thanksgiving

To: You and 15 others

You open the email and it's an attachment, a picture of your mom, dad, and your brothers and their families, all together in Spain. You scoff and delete it. Thanks for the fucking invite. Clicking back to your tab, you finish next week's lesson, adding slides to a PowerPoint, and worksheets to the file itself. You send it to the office printer, and close your laptop; tucking it away in your file cabinet. One goal you set is that work does not go home with you, especially not on holiday breaks.

You grab your bag, turn off the light, and shut the door behind you. You walk into the office and see Sarah sitting there. Weird, Joel is never late you think to yourself. “Hey Sarah!” you say, shooting her a wave. She looks up at you but doesn't wave back.

You print out your plans. All the slides, and copies of the worksheets, are stacked neatly in a manilla folder and left in your boss's box. Walking back up front, you notice Sarah is still sitting there. You walk behind the front desk and get close to the receptionist, Mrs. Johnson.

“Mrs. Johnson, Sarah is one of my students and neighbor. Has no one called about being late?”

“No ma’am.” she responds “She told me her mom was coming but we can't seem to reach her on the phone.” You look at Sarah, and then back at Mrs. Johnson, and sigh. “Yeah, Mom's a piece of work. I'll call her dad.”

You reach around in your purse, nervously pulling out your phone. “Excuse me for just a minute.” and you step into the empty conference room down the hall. You search for Joel's name in your contacts, you haven't spoken to him since you screamed at him on your porch. You click call and put the phone up to your ear. It only rings twice.

“Hey, can I call you back? I'm at work and we’re trying to wrap up so we don't have to be on-site all day tomorrow.” His voice is as smooth as molasses, but you know it isn't Joels.

“Tommy? Can you tell Joel that Sarah is still at school? Her mom never showed up.” You say, worriedly.

“What?! Goddamn it. Joel, Sarah is still at school. You need to go get-” You cut him off.

“Tommy, I can take her home. I'm still here, she's in the front office.”

“We won’t be home til’ late. I’ll come an get her, an she’ll just have to come to the jobsite with us.” The frustration in his voice is peaking out with every word.

“Tommy, realistically there is no reason for that. I live right beside Joel. I don't mind bringing her to my house, and she can just hang out until you get home. I’ve got some frozen pizza, snacks, and a TV. She’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I really hate to inconvenience you but it would be a tremendous help to Joel.” you’re quiet. Funny that it would help Joel but he cant even come to the goddamn phone.

“Im sure Tommy. Just have Joel call the front office and let them know she's alright to go home with me.”

“I owe ya one. Thanks pretty girl!.” and before you can correct him, he hangs up. You laugh. Hes such a flirt.

You compose yourself, putting your phone back in your bag and opening the door. By the time you’re back in the front, Mrs. Johnson is on the phone.

“Uh-huh, no worries Mr. Miller. I understand. Have a Happy Thanksgiving!” and she clicks the office phone down. She looks at you, smiling and nodding. “Come on Sarah! I'm gonna take you home.” She jumps out of her chair. “Really? Yay!!” She throws her backpack on, basically running out the door in front of you.”I've been telling my dad that I wanted to have a girls day with you but he always says you're busy. I told him you told me to come over whenever I want, even without homework but he didn't believe me.” You laugh. “Sarah, you can always come over. No matter what! You know that.” Your relationship with Sarah is slowly starting to develop more. You see her as the little sister you never had.

You start your car and plug your iPod in. “What’re you in the mood for Ms. Miller?” you ask, swirling the dial through your artists. “Do you have any Jesse McCartney?” She asks, her smile as bright as the sun. “Duh!!” You scroll to his name and click Shuffle. Leavin’ starts playing. “Do NOT tell my dad. He would die!” She says. You laugh, “Our little secret,” you say.

Once home, Sarah works on a book report for her english class. You give her some water and some chips. She finishes her snack, and puts her books back in her bag. You spend all afternoon doing whatever Sarah wants. Watching Hannah Montana, doing each other's nails, and making cookies. Before you know it, its 5:30. Sarah stirs on the couch, asking what's for dinner. “I’ve got pizza! Cheese or pepperoni?” you ask her “mmmm…. Pepperoni!” You preheat the oven, and listen for the beep.

It’s 8:30 and Sarah is asleep beside you on the couch. She was knocked out after 2 slices. Your phone beeps and you check it.

Joel: We’ll probably be here another hour or so. How’s my girl?

You missed seeing his name pop up on your phone. The butterflies you feel never go unnoticed.

You: Shes fine. She had dinner about 2 hours ago and fell asleep right after. She’s half in my lap so I can’t move, but I don’t mind.

Joel: Thanks again. Tommy will be over to get her when we finish up.

You scoff. Not even man enough to face you.

You: Okay.

You start to doze around 9. In and out of consciousness, waking every little bit to check on Sarah. You hear a knock at the door that jolts you awake. Checking the clock, its 10:00. You carefully move Sarah’s head from your let to a pillow. You quietly open the door, hoping for Joel. Unfortunately, God isnt on your side tonight, because its Tommy. You invite him in, turning the entryway light on.

“Thanks again, Joel and I really appreciate it.”

You look at him, rolling your eyes. “You, I believe. Joel? Not so much.”

“Damn diva, whats with the attitude?” Tommy says, smiling.

You weigh the pros and cons of dumping your emotions onto Tommy. And honestly, you’re at the point that you don't care. “You got a minute?” you say, walking to the fridge and grabbing 2 beers. “I always got time for you girl.” he says, swiftly. You roll your eyes again. You check to see if Sarah has moved and she's still in the same spot you’ve left her.

You start at Joel but somehow end with your crazy family. Before you know it, its borderline midnight. You and Tommy haven't stopped talking- or drinking. He realizes the time. “Shit, I better get home. Joels gonna lose his fuckin’ mind.” You gather Sarah's belongings and hand them to him. He lifts her off the couch and cradles her like a baby. “And I meant what I said about Thanksgivin’. Come join us. Joel’s smokin’ a turkey, and Ill be there, so will Sarah.” he says with a warm smile. “What about Joel's girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to hold him up but desperate for the answer. “That shit was over the minute it started.” He says laughing. You stare him down, not knowing if he is serious or not. “Don't look at me like that, Im serious. Come over, bring some beers and a side. It’ll be great.” He walks out the door, Sarah in his arms and her backpack on his back.

You fall asleep, weighing the options of Thanksgiving at the Millers. You wonder if Joel even knows he invited you. You want to call him, you want to hear his voice. The way his pet names for you roll off his tongue with his southern drawl. The way he looks into your eyes when you’re moaning his name over and over. The way he holds you when you cum. You turn your light off and drift into a slumber so deep, you don’t even realize it came. Thoughts of Joel bleeding into your dreams, making you smile in your sleep.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #last of us #neighbor joel x reader #neighbor joel #cliffhanger #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #the last of us #neighbor!joel #joel x reader #daddy joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #my writing #tlou #joel tlou

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lonely-night · 3 days ago

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Introducing new character to the Myka Ex-Girlfriend Cinematic Universe, Helen Ryan (played by the lovely Kathryn Hahn) was Myka's gay-awakening slash first serious girlfriend during college. Although their relationship didn't last long, it was certainly memorable for both of them (more back story here).

Fast forward to now (post-Instinct), HG has returned to the Warehouse as an agent. However, Myka and HG were not on good terms. During their first mission together to retrieve a witchcraft related artifact, they ran into Helen. Helen and Myka both were surprised to see each other after many years. Helen took one look and caught a whiff of the tension between Myka and HG and decided to cause some mischiefs.

Helen: What the hell, Myka? Where have you been? I haven't heard from you for what? Ten years? Myka: I know. I am sorry. It's just, you know, work's been busy. Speaking of work, let me ask you some questions real quick then you can go. Helen: Sure. Go ahead. Myka: Did you smell fudge recently? Helen: ... that's standard Secret Service question? Myka: I know it's weird, but seriously, did you? Helen: Uh... no. I don't think so. I mean I did pass by a ice cream parlor few days ago, they sold chocolate fudge there. Myka: Right. *flipping through the file* Helen: Wanna try it? It's delicious. Please don't tell me you still don't eat sugar. Myka: *chuckles* Yep. *continue reading the file* Helen: You are no fun. Hey, how about we go hang out? Myka: I don't know, Hel. Maybe later. Still got work to do. Helen: C'mon, Bering. I haven't see you in ages. I've missed you. Myka: Gosh, I don't know. Helen: Just you and me, like old times? *looking up at Myka through her long eyelashes* I will buy you a drink. Myka: Alright, fine. *laughs* Just one drink. Helen: Scout's honor. Myka: *laughs* You're not even in scout. HG, witnessing this interaction:

#rambling tag #mbxgfcu #bwedit #bering and wells #this is so fun to make #(although looking for the suitable scenes to use was pain in the ass)#anyway #I love this universe #i love seeing hg jealous ngl lmaoooo #you can imagine how hg feels when helen calls myka's surname 'bering' and something about 'old times'#should i even tag this as bw?#eh im tagging it anyway #warehouse 13 crossover agatha all along-ish?#or crossover free agents?#helen ryan is from free agents #but the character is mixed of agatha and helen

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selfshipyellowpages · 1 day ago

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Yellow Pages (Batch One) Is Up!

Check out the first 20 blogs on The Selfship Yellow Pages, and thank you to everyone who has reblogged! I'm going to be working on the next set of twenty and I'll post again when it's updated. Interact with this post or this one to be included in a future update!

Please let me know if there's any typos, missing links, or if you'd prefer certain F/Os to be listed or unlisted! I'm cutting off individual fandoms at 10 F/Os just for readability, and I've decided to list all F/Os (romantic, familial, platonic, etc) because different selfshippers might focus on different types of relationship, and they all deserve representation and community!

Reminders:

-I am only listing fandoms that have 2+ people who selfship in them, to keep the project from getting absolutely unmanageable in links. -the yellow pages are designed to be accessible on mobile but tumblr can be wonky about links on mobile, so I do suggest desktop if possible! -please make sure you are reading and respecting other people's DNIs when browsing the yellow pages! -be aware that I am listing blogs and their F/Os, so if you don't want to see doubles for a particular character/fandom, don't click on that fandom! -please do not be rude to people about their F/Os, whether that's because of doubles, fandom source, or anything else. If you'd like to block someone for these reasons, that is a-ok, but do not send any rude messages, or I will find you and block you from this community project. -if you would like anything changed or removed, just let me know via asks or DMs!

The Yellow Pages currently features: 20 blogs, 33 fandoms, and I have 163 additional fandoms on stand-by waiting for a second person to share them. Current most popular selfship fandoms: Marvel, DC, and Pokemon (4 blogs in each).

This batch includes: @fruitypie-daydreams @satellite-of-self-love @sixsixships @cafecouple @multiversal-selfshipper @cruising-thru-the-starz @mephy-doodle-dandy @self-shippy @astral-express-family @silver-heller @moonlitforestt @allpointyears @karume-selfshipper @mimy2004 @fatiguedshipper @starry-ships @dolliepiilled @thepenguinandthefiend @woofs-silly-ships

#selfship #selfship project #selfship community #self ship #selfshipping #selfship yellow pages

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dream-with-a-fever · 3 days ago

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Hi! What is your favorite Hinny scene in the books?

hi!!! i LOVE this question. i have a few favourite scenes — and i also know i’m not alone in these scene choices.

the library scene in ootp is just perfection. it’s so simple and brief, but there’s something so special about it, the way harry lets his guard down around her and tells her what’s been bothering him when he hasn’t been able to do that with anyone else. i think this is also a scene that shows how good ginny is at reading harry and his emotions, and knowing what he needs, when to push and when to lay off.

the break up scene in hbp is also in my opinion one of their best. because it shows how well they both understand each other. ginny doesn’t want their relationship to end but she also knows harry, and knows he will do anything to stop this overhanging evil in their lives, feels he has a responsibility to do it. and while she hates him for it, it’s also one of the reasons she fell for him — his selflessness and courage. he also knows that she wouldn’t expect anything less of him. i’m not articulating my reasoning very well here, but i really do think this scene is a perfect example of why they work together.

the little moments where we get to see harry and ginny as a couple are also perfect like the core four sitting in the common room, ginny up against harry’s legs, setting up jokes for each other, comfortable intimacy and love.

can’t not mention the ‘lucky you’ scene too - another pivotal scene for their character development. she is the only one who isn’t scared of his volatile moods and rages, she stands up for herself and calls him out. she manages to calm him, and hold her ground all at once, and demands respect which he quickly gives to her. she is someone who can absolutely handle harry - at his best but also at his worst

THE KISS IN GINNY’S ROOM. that scene is just pure romance. it’s this pining and longing for connection, this moment of closeness they’ve both been yearning for that is prematurely ripped from them (ffs ron) and this sort of tragic goodbye kiss, don’t-forget-me kiss, please-come-back-to-me-in-one-piece kiss, a kiss to remind them what they’re fighting for. ginny’s emotional maturity in this scene is gorgeous. and poor harry just wants to be a teenager in love for five more seconds…like ouch

honourable mentions: ginny sassing harry during quidditch practises, all the little interactions during the summer of hbp where harry starts to see how hilarious and wonderful ginny is, their married couple bickering energy before and during the battle at the department of mysteries, when they’re setting the table at the burrow talking, the little kisses and casual displays of intimacy (kissing each other goodnight…..???:?) i could go on and on and on.

it’ll never be ENOUGH! which is precisely why i enjoy canon-compliant works of them so much, because we deserved to see so much more. stay tuned for my half blood prince missing moments one shot <3

#harry potter #ginny weasley #harry x ginny #hinny #hp #book ginny #ginevra molly weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger #hinny fic #asks

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nanamineedstherapy · 3 days ago

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Mouth to Meat

Cannibal Yakuza Sukuna X [Retracted] F!Reader

Chapter 1 - The Price of Curiosity (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 2 - Flesh and Stone

A/N: This one-shot is inspired by an amazing fic idea shared by @sukuna-ryo. Welcome to the abyss, where the lines between sanity and madness blur like a poorly drawn sketch. Don’t get too comfortable—just when you think you’ve figured it out, you’ll realize the joke’s on you. Enjoy the ride, if you can. PS: "It" is being referred to the victems as they are seen as objects to be taken.

Tags: Sukuna x Reader Cannibalism Yakuza AU Dark Psychology Manipulation Monster x Monster Energy Gritty, morally ambiguous character studies

Warnings: Graphic violence Cannibalism Moral ambiguity (everyone’s awful) Major Charecters Death

Please read tags/warnings as this will get dark!

A few days later, a night began with chaos. Alarms blared across the city, news anchors breathlessly reporting the impossible: Ryomen Sukuna has escaped custody . Streets emptied as lockdowns were enforced.

Y/N looked at her wristwatch; she was in her office, sipping tea, when the knock came. Fushiguro Toji, the facility’s Medical Director, leaned against her doorframe, his face carved with irritation, flanked by Higuruma Hiromi, the District Public Prosecutor Officer. “Thought you’d want to know,” Toji said, voice low. “Your favorite patient’s loose.”

Her lips quirked in amusement. “Didn’t take him for the type to sit still for long.”

“You’re too calm,” Hiromi accused, stepping inside. “You should probably head home. Lock your doors. Just in case.”

Her gaze lingered on them for a moment before she stood, brushing past with a faint smile. “Thanks for the concern; I’ll be fine.”

Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked away. She didn’t miss the way their eyes followed her, nor the faint growls of frustration they let out when she ignored their warning.

Once home, her apartment was dark, save for the faint glow of streetlights streaming through the windows. She didn’t bother flipping the switch.

“How long do you plan to keep staring at me from the dark?” she asked calmly, shrugging off her coat.

Silence stretched, thick and expectant, before a low chuckle resonated from the shadows. Sukuna stepped into the faint light, his presence oppressive, a coiled predator ready to strike. “You’re sharper than the others,” he mused.

She turned to face him, unruffled. The faintest smirk played at her lips. “You’ve been watching me since the prison, haven’t you.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, not seeking an answer.

His grin spread, sharp and wolfish. “You fascinate me, Doctor. And I don’t get fascinated easily.”

“Good,” she said, brushing past him, unconcerned by his proximity. “Because I have a proposition for you.”

Sukuna turned, his gaze tracking her every movement like a predator stalking its prey. He eased onto the couch, his body language lazy but his eyes sharp. “A proposition?”

She poured herself a glass of wine, the deep red liquid catching the faint light. She didn’t offer him any, nor did he ask. “I want to show you something. A little… art project I’ve been interested in.”

He tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his crimson eyes. “Art?”

“Two pieces, actually,” she said, her voice light, almost conversational. “I think they’d suit your… palate.”

The grin that stretched across Sukuna’s face was feral, dark amusement dripping from every word. “Bold of you to assume you know my tastes, woman.”

“Oh, I do,” she replied, her tone laced with quiet arrogance. She downed her wine in one smooth motion and set the glass aside. “Come on. Let’s go.”

He remained seated, watching her with a predator’s patience. “Just like that? No explanation?”

She turned, meeting his gaze with an unflinching calm. “You’ll understand soon enough.” Her smile deepened, almost conspiratorial. “I think you’ll enjoy helping me bring them home.”

The way she said home didn’t escape Sukuna. Like it was his as much as hers. Like he already belonged there, though she’d never said it outright.

For the first time in years, he felt an odd flicker of curiosity.

And for that alone, he decided to follow her.

It didn’t take long to reach the estate or for Sukuna & his men to strongarm there way in with silenced guns—he was after all still the Yakuza King—while she hacked into the security systems & everything she did, Sukuna observed. His crimson eyes gleamed, his smile cutting deeper the longer he watched. Stars in his eyes? No. His fascination burned darker than that.

Once inside a bedroom, just the two of them, they stared at the blonde and white-haired couple lying entwined on the bed, oblivious. The white-haired one slept soundly, lips curled in a faint, contented smile, their face buried against the blonde’s chest. The blonde’s arms were draped protectively around them, their breathing steady.

Y/N tilted her head, her expression one of mock curiosity, but the venom in her voice dripped with ease. “They look… peaceful,” she cooed. It wasn’t a compliment—it was a death knell.

Beside her, Sukuna chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made the air heavier. “Not for long. Although I didn’t think you’d aim this high, Doctor. The Minister of Defense? That’s ambitious. Even for you.”

She moved closer, fingertips brushing the edge of his jaw, lingering there like the whisper of a promise. “Ambition’s easier when you have the right help,” she murmured, leaning in. Her voice softened, feigning intimacy. “And he’s been after you, hasn’t he?”

Sukuna didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. Her touch disarmed him, or maybe he let it. He wouldn’t admit to himself that she’d already molded him, to worship her; no questions asked, weaving herself into the cracks he’d spent years pretending didn’t exist. When she kissed the curve of his neck, his breath hitched—a low, guttural sound that slipped out before he could stop it.

“Wake them,” she whispered, her lips ghosting over his skin before pulling away. Sukuna’s jaw clenched at the absence, a primal ache tugging at his edges. He followed her command without hesitation, whether blinded by her touch or because of what he’d found in her fridge earlier, or was he already a slave to her attention? He didn’t care.

Sukuna moved with efficiency. The white-haired one was chest-down before it could even stir, one of Sukuna’s massive hands pinning it’s arms behind while the other clamped over it’s mouth. It’s eyes snapped open, wild and panicked, but it was too late.

Y/N was already leaning over the blonde, pressing a chloroform-soaked towel over it’s face, who had time to flinch before it’s body went limp again.

Minutes later, the blonde sat tied to a chair, slowly regaining consciousness. Its eyes darted frantically to its lover, now slumped forward with it’s mangled stumps where fingers and toes once were, shallow breaths escaping through the gag.

Y/N crouched before the blonde, her smile serene, her tone conversational. “Hello, NK.”

The blonde froze, lips trembling with rage. Recognition dawned in it’s eyes, followed by horror.

“What have you done!” the blonde managed to garble through the gag when she pulled it down, voice breaking with fury.

Y/N tilted her head, feigning surprise. “What does it look like?”

“Please,” the blonde begged, eyes glassy with tears that clung to its lashes like shattered crystals. “Let him go. Don’t hurt him. You’re better than this. I’ll not tell anyone; please, let me take him to a hospital.”

“Better?” Y/N’s laughter sliced through the air, sharp and derisive. She tilted her head, studying the blonde as though it were an insect pinned under her heel. She knew it would do no such thing; as soon as it was free, it’d immediately kill Sukuna and then slice her head clean off for hurting it’s lover. “Oh, darling, you don’t know me at all.” The mockery in her voice was a blade of its own, twisting as she continued. “And after all those lovely little papers you published on psychopathy, ASPD, NPD, SPD, BPD minds? Tsk, tsk.” She clicked her tongue, her gaze narrowing to a predator’s slit. “You’re the genius, right? Profiling everyone. Understanding nothing.”

The blonde’s face crumpled, its desperation leaking from every shallow breath. “If this is about the research—please, I’ll retract it. I already told you that day you can take credit. Just stop this!”

“Of course it’s about the papers,” Y/N hissed, leaning closer. The sharp angles of her grin deepened, a grotesque facsimile of joy. “You published your research on the exact same topic as mine, before me. Do you think I need your pity? Your fucking charity? No. You took what was mine—even if it was unknowingly—so now I’m taking what’s yours.”

The blonde twisted against the ropes, frantic, its gaze darting to Sukuna. The monster loomed behind the white-haired one, holding an old, rusted cleaver the size of his head with a cowprint handle. The blade’s chipped edge pressed into pale, trembling skin, the faintest pressure threatening to cut deeper.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” the blonde stammered, its voice raw with pleading. “Please! He’s the Attorney General—they’ll come after you. You’ll never know peace.”

“Oh, but I adore the spotlight,” Y/N replied, her voice lifting with feigned delight. Her laughter rang out, light and melodic, clashing against the suffocating tension. “And besides…” She reached out, her fingertips brushing the white-haired one’s jawline. It recoiled, jerking its head as much as it could under Sukuna’s iron grip. The resistance earned it a savage punch to the stomach, its body convulsing as blood soaked the gag muffling its strangled sounds.

The blonde recoiled at the sight, its breath hitching, tears streaming freely now.

“It’s worth it for this rare meat.” She finished.

Blonde’s eyes went to her, confused, then widened with horror.

Y/N’s grin widened, cruel as a crescent moon. “Oh, you really don’t know, do you?” Her voice shifted, giddy and maniacal, abandoning all semblance of restraint. “The day he came to pick you up after your session with that genocidal cult leader. What was it? Ah! A dinner he wanted to take you to!” She mimicked his tone, animated yet calm as she added, “The Gojo Satoru, Attorney General, dying to whisk you away to dinner.”

The blonde froze, its eyes wide with recognition, its breath caught in its throat.

“When he walked past me to you, I couldn’t think straight,” Y/N admitted, her voice almost dreamy. “He smelled like ozone and petrichor. Since then, I’ve been dying to pair him with a vintage Bordeaux I’ve been saving. Don’t you think he’ll taste exquisite?” She turned to Sukuna, who watched her with rapt attention, his grin splitting wide as if waiting for a command. “Ryeoman here would accompany me to our own dinner with it. I may or may not have been a little jealous of you that day, having such an Adonis all to yourself. So…” Her tone shifted to mock-casual. “I got my own. Although baby-faced men never appealed to me, so I improvised.”

Her finger traced the white-haired one’s jaw again, and it flinched, earning another blow from Sukuna, who’s entire frame was vibrating with anticipation.

Y/N smirked, tilting her head as though savoring the blonde’s horror. “Should’ve kept him hidden, NK,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “You don’t know the kind of people out there—people who’d love to do unspeakable things to your husband. He’s one of a kind after all.” She smirked, eyeing the white-haired.

The blonde’s chest heaved, its breath shallow and uneven. “Please,” it whispered, voice cracking. “He’s innocent. Don’t do this.”

“Innocent?” Y/N’s lips curled into a polite smile, her expression serene in a way that only deepened the unease. “You keep saying ‘please,’ like it matters,” she mused, her tone light and conversational. She leaned in close, close enough that the blonde could feel her breath against its cheek. “But you’re not asking for me to stop, are you? You’re asking for him. To save this.” She gestured lazily toward the white-haired one, whose head lolled forward, barely held up by Sukuna’s relentless grip. Blood streaked its once-pristine face, and its hands twitched weakly in the bindings, a far cry from defiance. “And that’s the difference, NK. You’re selfless. You’re a hero. And heroes…” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her lips brushing its ear. “Heroes always lose.”

The blonde gasped, a sound fractured with despair. Its eyes darted to the white-haired one, its voice trembling. “Satoru…” The name escaped as a broken plea, fragile as glass. “Satoru, I’m so sorry.”

Y/N followed its gaze, tilting her head as though studying a painting she found faintly amusing. “Ah, Satoru…” she drawled, her voice dripping with mock reverence. She rolled the name over her tongue, savoring it like a delicacy. “Names are supposed to mean something, aren’t they? Strength, identity, power.” Her smile sharpened—a predator’s grin. “But all I see is fine meat.”

The white-haired one flinched, the barest movement, but enough to draw blood where the cleaver pressed against its throat. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed, and the blade dipped just enough to trace a deeper line, red pooling against pale, trembling skin. The sound it made was low and guttural, like an animal resigned to slaughter.

The blonde struggled against its restraints, panic etched across its face. “Suguru will come for you!” it shouted, desperation lacing every word.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Y/N’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew colder, sharper, a frozen dagger poised to strike.

The blonde froze, its breath hitching as realization flickered across its face, chased swiftly by horror. “What did you do?”

On the other side of town, in the suffocating darkness of his cell, Geto Suguru clawed at his skin in a desperate, bloody ballet of madness. A rusted iron brush, a relic of torture past, scraped against his flesh, tearing away layers of himself. Blood and chunks of flesh pooled near his feet. His once vibrant hair, a symbol of his power and beauty, was now gone, sacrificed to his delusions and replaced with a raw, bleeding scalp from the blade he’d stolen—a mistake that had earned him a savage beating and solitary confinement. He muttered under his breath, his voice a low, disjointed murmur, words bleeding together in frantic repetition. “The smell... must get rid of the smell. Monkeys. Germs.” His muscles quivered, trembling under the strain as the mantra repeated like a broken record. Now, he was a prisoner of his own mind, a tormented soul trapped in a physical and mental prison. Each agonizing stroke brought him closer to oblivion, a tragic figure consumed by his own madness.

“You forgot about his OCD and germophobia, didn’t you?” Y/N’s voice cut through the blonde’s spiraling thoughts, derisive and sharp. “Some hotshot psychologist. Beloved professor. Yet you can’t even remember the small details.” She tsked, mock stern.

“Stop,” the blonde whispered, its voice shaking. It turned its head violently, as if that could block out her words. “Stop it. Don’t talk about him.”

“Why not?” Y/N crouched again, leaning in until their foreheads almost touched. Her smile widened, teeth glinting like knives. “You never stopped. Every case, every paper, every decision—it was always about him. And yet here you are, begging for this one.” Her gaze flicked toward the white-haired one. “Why? Because you married it? Because it made you feel less broken?”

The blonde squeezed its eyes shut, its chest heaving with shallow, erratic breaths. It didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The silence was damning.

“Pathetic,” Y/N whispered, standing and stepping back.

The blonde’s voice broke again as it struggled against the ropes. “Please. Kill me—just me. I’ll thank you for it, I’ll even beg for it. But let him go!” Its voice cracked, raw and desperate as its eyes landed on the white-haired one. There was no fight left in it now. Its eyes had dulled, the hopelessness written across its bloodied face.

Y/N’s head tilted as though she were a scientist inspecting her most fascinating subject. “You don’t get it, do you? This was never about you.” She paused, her eyes glinting with something dark, something vile, as she glanced at the white-haired one. “It’s always been about him.”

“Please...” the blonde whispered, its voice cracking under the weight of hopelessness. “He doesn’t deserve this. I’ll do anything. Just let him go.”

Y/N’s smile softened, her eyes narrowing like a snake ready to strike. “You know what’s funny, NK? For someone who writes so passionately about human behavior, you fail to see what’s right in front of you.” She gestured toward the white-haired one, her voice cutting like glass. “Look at it. Look at what it’s become. You’d think a creature so lauded, so untouchable, would be harder to break.”

The blonde froze as the implication seeped in, slamming into it like a wrecking ball. Its breath hitched, rapid and shallow, the veneer of composure cracking as horror bled into every crevice of its expression. Y/N didn’t blink; her smile fixed, serene as a prayer unanswered.

The white-haired one shuddered—a pathetic, rasping sound muffled by the gag. It wasn’t fighting anymore; it didn’t have the strength or hope left to resist. Tears streaked its bloodstained chest, carving pale rivers through the crimson chaos. Its cerulean eyes, once vibrant and untouchable, stared into the void with muted despair, already resigned to its end.

The blonde sobbed, choking on its own panic as it struggled fruitlessly against the ropes. “Stop it. Stop! You win—whatever this is, you win! Please, I’ll give you anything you want!”

Y/N straightened, her shadow swallowing the blonde in its suffocating enormity. The deliberate grace of her movements made the moment all the more stifling. She turned toward Sukuna, her fingers sliding into his hair as if soothing a rabid beast. “Hear that, darling? It still believes in deals.”

Sukuna grinned, the grotesque expression splitting his face in something far from human. “What could it possibly offer that I haven’t already taken?” His voice was dark, dripping with indulgence.

Y/N hummed thoughtfully, her hand drifting to trace Sukuna’s collarbone before she refocused on the blonde. “You don’t get it, do you, NK? This isn’t about what I want. It’s about equilibrium. You stole from me, so I had to return the favor.” Her gaze slid toward the white-haired one, a slow, calculated flicker of her eyes. “And what a favor it’s been.”

The blonde shuddered, its breath hitching in frantic, disjointed sobs. “You’re monsters,” it whispered, its voice barely audible through the static of its terror. “Both of you.

“Monsters?” Y/N repeated, feigning offense. Her voice dropped into something quieter, colder. “Monsters don’t bother with reason, NK. They don’t spend weeks reading every research paper, learning every routine, dismantling lives piece by piece. No, that takes precision. Care.” She leaned down, her breath ghosting over the blonde’s ear. “Monsters would’ve killed you both outright. I, on the other hand, enjoy playing with my food.”

Behind her, Sukuna tightened his grip on the cleaver, pressing it against the white-haired one’s throat until another thin crimson line trickled down its neck. The white-haired one whimpered, the sound faint but piercing. The blonde jerked violently in its bonds, its cries bubbling up in frantic, disjointed desperation.

“Please! Kill me—kill me if you have to! But let him go!” The blonde’s voice cracked, its body convulsing with the force of its sobs.

Y/N tilted her head, her expression softening in mock pity as she stepped closer to the white-haired one, lifting its chin so it had to look at her. “It’s a shame I’ll never get to know what he’d sound like being tied up. Does he grunt? Moans? Or does he whimper when he’s being raped like a bitch in heat?”

Her words sank in like poison as the realization dawned, leaving the blonde screaming as it fought against the iron chain, with a newfound strength, somehow about to break them.

But Y/N’s focus was already elsewhere. She turned to Sukuna, her smile returning, radiant and terrifying. “I’m bored,” she said lightly. “Shall we, honey? Dinner waits for no one.”

And like the obedient beast he was becoming, Sukuna raised the cleaver, and with one fluid motion, the cleaver came down.

The white-haired one’s head rolled across the floor, leaving a gleaming trail in its wake. Its body crumpled forward on the chair. The blonde screamed—a raw, guttural sound that rattled the walls.

“Finally! Now the meat will be tasty.” She licked her lips as she moved to jab a blade through the blonde’s heart. The blonde died looking at the white-haired one & its name on its lips.

Y/N crouched beside the blonde's body, examining the lifeless face with the care of a curator appraising a masterpiece. Her fingers trailed along its jawline, and she sniffed, her expression shifting to something almost reverent. “Sandalwood,” she murmured, her voice soft, intimate. “It smelled like sandalwood.”

Sukuna chuckled, a dark, rumbling sound that reverberated through the room. “You’re insane,” he said, almost admiringly.

Y/N rose, her gaze sharp as a blade, and smirked. “Of course.” Her voice dripped with saccharine malice, predatory. “Now come here, baby,” she purred, the endearment a venomous dagger.

The word hit him like a drug to his dick. He followed without hesitation, already consumed by the pull of her command.

She pushed him to the floor, straddling him with a kind of feral grace. “Murder always makes me horny." Then she tore off his shirt while Sukuna was already holding her hips and grinding her clothed cunt against his crotch. She bent down to whisper in his ear, “Now show me why you deserve it all.” She didn’t mean the meat, but the privilege of not being eaten by her. And Sukuna, obedient beast that he was, intended to earn it.

A few days later, Y/N dined with Sukuna in a country she hadn’t bothered to remember. To her, it was just another backdrop—temporary, insignificant.

In their new house, Sukuna carved into the rare meat with precision, his satisfaction evident in the low groan that escaped his lips. “You were right,” he muttered, licking a smear of blood from his thumb. “The minister tastes exquisite. Still smells good, too.”

He gestured lazily for Uraume to refill his cup with the vintage wine Y/N had insisted on saving for an occasion just like this. Uraume obliged with a nod, their movements deliberate and deferential. “Is the cooking to your satisfaction, my lord?”

Sukuna grinned, baring sharp teeth. “As always, perfect, Uraume.”

Next to him the table, Y/N watched Sukuna with a knowing smile, her gaze steady, unyielding. She took a slow sip of her wine, the taste lingering on her tongue like an unspoken promise. “Well?” she asked finally, her voice soft, deceptively casual.

“Well, what?”

“Do you think I’m a monster?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Sukuna froze for a moment, swallowing, his grip tightening around his fork before setting it down deliberately. He turned toward her, his crimson gaze molten with something primal.

Without warning, his hands slid to the sides of her breasts, his thumbs brushing slowly over her nipples through the delicate fabric of her dress. His touch was rough, reverent, and possessive all at once. His hot and jagged breath fanned across her face as he leaned in, his lips hovering near hers.

“You’re worse,” he growled, his voice raw, guttural, and utterly stripped of resistance. He stared at her mouth, his pupils blown wide with the depth of his submission. Whatever semblance of independence he once had was long gone, obliterated. He wasn’t a king anymore—not here, not with her. He was a weapon, a dog, a creature driven solely by the need to please her.

She laughed, low and unrestrained, the sound curling around him like a noose. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t falter. “And yet, here you are.”

There was no illusion of morality between them. They were two forces bound together, feeding on each other’s darkness until nothing else remained.

Her laughter echoed in the silence, sharp and haunting, as she leaned back in her chair, a red queen who had conquered her kingdom. Sukuna remained where he was, tethered by his own devotion, waiting for her command.

In the aftermath of their violence, the line between predator and prey blurred until it ceased to exist.

A/N: And there you have it. Twisted, right? But then again, what did you expect from a world where love and death are just different sides of the same coin? Don’t bother thanking me—it was never about you. See you on the other side, or don’t. I’ll still be here, waiting for the next soul to crack. Your comments fuel my passion; let me know if this hits. Also, I'll mark it as over until I get more requests for it since it's already well rounded as it is, but if you want the cute babies to be avenged, let me know. ( ͡❛ ᴗ ͡❛)

Chapter 3: Unravelling the first Red Threads (Tumblr/AO3)

Masterlist

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lichenes · 2 days ago

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#1 dad(dy)

based on those tweets/tumblr posts: ⓪ ① ② ③ ④ ⑤ ⑥ ⑦ CW: mentions of smoking, actor au wc: 571 . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The sound of clapperboard was heard as the day of filming began. “Today, due to immense demand, Gabriel Fouché, will be reading your thirst tweets!” Said the director with a bright smile. A part of the contract with the studio recording “Arcane” was to take part in a few interviews, this one was a bit- unusual for him.

“RIP to Silco, you would’ve loved vaping ‘bandaged heart’, you would’ve been doing crazy smoke tricks on tiktok ‘R. N’.” He chuckled. “What does R, N mean?” Laughs could be heard behind the cameras. Someone answered. “Right now.” Gabriel nodded.

“Well I did have to learn how to smoke cigars and do tricks with the smoke for the role. I do have to admit I am a habitual cigarette smoker so it was infinitely easier to master the art.” He paused for a moment. “As for the tiktok tricks - I’m a jughead when it comes to technology so unless there would be someone doing all the recording… you aren’t seeing those videos any time soon.”

“The children yearn for the mines, and my photo underneath it.” He burst out laughing, putting his hand on his mouth. “Ahahah- okay, okay. Yeah they do.”

“I think about this Silco moment every day, my god he’s so hot here.” Gabriel tilted his head. “Hmm… it seems most fans of Silco find him most attractive when he’s kicking the camera. I wonder why.” He put his hand on his chin in faux thought and then laughed.

“Sorry but older Silco ‘greater-than’ young Silco. I actually have to disagree on that.” He said. “Younger Silco was in one scene and he captured so many hearts, both on set and amongst the viewers, that Older Silco didn’t manage to do with all his screen time. Younger Silco is something special…”

“Hashtag Zaundads, actually!” Gabriel got closer to the camera and put his hand to his mouth almost as to whisper a secret. “Me and Gerard actually kissed to prepare for the alternate universe episode, to really get into character, you know.” Gasps were heard in the studio. “I’m joking.” He said winking towards the camera.

“Silco’s left eye is missing eyelids so I guess he was sleeping like this every night. Exactly what happened I can attest to that.” He nodded solemnly. “Actually, SIlco just doesn’t sleep ever, that’s how he runs Zaun, he does not let his guard down even for a moment. Poor guy, he needs to relax more.”

“P, L, S - please, I assume? - Stop posting Silco thirst he looks like my dad, and a comment left under that, is your dad single? I’d love to meet my doppelganger! Send me a message and we shall schedule it.” He said half-joking as an email popped up on the screen.

“And the final one- okay who the hell was all over my dash two years ago thirsting over Silco, I understand you now. I want his whole wardrobe and he can read the dictionary to me until I fall asleep. I actually have a deal to voice a certain someone in a new project we’ve been working on with the cast so keep your eyes open!” He said. “And as for my wardrobe, I’ve seen some pretty talented people replicating my outfits! So it’s clearly easy to steal Silco’s wardrobe.”

“Thank you all for watching!!” He exclaimed with his million dollar smile as the cameras stopped rolling.

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masterlist

#writing #silco #arcane silco #silco arcane #arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane s1 #actor au arcane #arcane backstage au #actor au #crackfic #crack fic #silico #silico arcane #silico x reader #arcane actor au #silco actor au #silico actor au

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echoingbirdsofprey · 2 days ago

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Delicate (Jake's Version)

10 - System Failure, Calling Mission Control

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: Major Character Death, description of some funeral proceedings, heavy alcohol consumption, and a nice little surprise at the end to make up for it all.

A/N: It was inevitable.

Tags: @mrsevans90

Playlist

Ice had died at some point during the night. Peacefully, in his sleep, next to his loving wife. Sarah realized almost immediately, waking up just minutes after her husband took his last breath. She got Sam up first and then Mark and Alexandra. They stood around the bed for a few moments, each saying their goodbyes as they felt necessary. Sarah called the funeral home and they came and took his body early. Sarah was going to try to get the funeral to be held later that day, after every necessary person was notified. Sarah wanted it done and over with, knowing Ice wanted something quick. He'd set his family up well for the rest of their lives. He made sure they were taken care of. Once the funeral director left their home, Sam texted Jake.

Sam: Jake

Jake: mornin beautiful...was gonna shoot you a text but figured you were sleeping and I was running late, missed our walk this morning

Sam: can you come to my house?

Jake: was just getting into flight suit, is everything okay?

Sam: no...please I need you now

Jake: fuck. Omw

Without a thought, Jake shed his flight suit, which had been half on, putting his jeans back on. He forgot his belt and Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob all yelled after him as he darted out the door. He even left his locker open.

“The fuck?” Rooster asked, and everyone glanced around confused before going back to their business.

Jake sped to Sam's house. He passed a black hearse, flanked by two military escorts on the way and his stomach dropped. When he pulled in the driveway it was silent, and he could only hear the gentle rustle of the morning breeze through the palm trees out front. The air felt empty, and too cool for the end of the summer. He recognized Admiral Beau Simpson standing with Sarah. The color drained from Jake's face as he took a deep and shaky breath, heading up the walkway. Sarah thanked Jake for coming and he smiled and nodded at her. Beau saluted him and Jake did so back as he continued to where he was most needed.

Sam met him at the door and she nearly collapsed into his arm, sobs wracking her body. He guided her into the house and onto the couch. He held her tight and let her cry for as long as she needed to. Jake could hear someone coming up the walkway and into the house. He glanced around and noticed Sam’s brother and sister were nowhere to be found, no doubt off somewhere quiet trying to process what had happened to their father in their own ways. Sarah had come back into the house and Beau had followed, which Jake then realized that he had arrived just after Beau and he was clearly trying to help Sarah get some things in order.

“How quickly do you want this to happen?” Beau asked, eyes glassing over to Jake. He was still holding Sam tight, his fingers threaded through her hair and the other hand rubbing circles on her back. When she was able to stop crying, she laid silently in Jake's arms. He had shed tears but none for her to see. He was trying his hardest to be strong for her.

“I just want everything over with. Tom wanted it all done quick too. Whatever you can make happen today, I’d be grateful for.” Sarah said and Jake felt Sam sigh deeply. He wasn’t sure if she could hear her mother, but if she could, it probably hurt that her mother seemed unfazed on the outside, but Jake was sure she was in agony on the inside. She was trying to be strong for her children just like Jake was being for his girlfriend.

“I’ll do my best. He was our Commander. We’re all going to miss him deeply, Sarah. And you let me know if there’s anything else you need. We’re here for you whatever you and your family needs. You’re our family too.” Beau explained and Jake watched as Beau rubbed his hands up and down her arms comfortingly. He kissed her on the cheek and she pulled him into a tight embrace before they said their goodbyes.

Not too long after. Maverick and the rest of the pilots were informed and they all headed home to get their dress uniforms. Jake had stopped quickly at his place and then went back to Sam's immediately. He elected to drive her and Maverick came and picked Sarah, Mark and Alex up. It wasn't until the funeral that Jake’s co-pilots saw him.

Jake looked handsome in dress blues and on his arm was Sam. What a way for the rest of them to find out. Nat had known and expressed her disgust initially, but she was happy for Sam regardless. Bob knew, and so did Coyote. Everyone else had their suspicions but it was confirmed for them here and now.

With Iceman’s family gathered, and Jake by his daughter's side, his friends and co-pilots couldn't believe it. They saw then, the side of Jake that he vowed he'd never let them see. They saw tears stinging his eyes as he glanced down at his girlfriend. At Iceman's daughter. They saw affection and a comforting demeanor as Sam held onto him tight, as if Jake was the only thing that could keep her tethered to the spot, as the priest said his last words about Ice. About him being a loving and devoted husband and father. About him leaving behind a legacy. And when Sam broke down again, Jake was right there to catch her, holding her steady in his arms. His co-pilots were astounded by the amount of care and compassion that Hangman showed. That Jake showed.

Jake's lips touched her forehead and the top of her hair. One of his hands was cupped around the back of her neck, the other around her waist, holding her as her body shook. His green eyes studied the line of his fellow aviators, as Maverick punched wings into Ice’s casket. As they fired the rifles, Jake whispered something to Sam, and only Rooster was able to hear what he said, being the closest in proximity to them.

“I've got you. It'll be okay. Not now...but it'll be okay soon.” Jake’s voice was low and soft, comforting and reassuring in the same breath as the jets flew overhead. Rooster had never seen Hangman be so caring. And now he knew there was something more going on with them. He knew it was way more than a fling for Jake. Hangman actually had feelings. Rooster stood in stunned silence next to them.

As the funeral proceedings ended, many people came up and expressed their condolences to Sarah and Ice's children. Maverick hugged her and then when he hugged Sam, he whispered something to her.

“Ice told me to look after you too. I promise I'll do my best.” He said to Sam and then he shook Jake's hand and said, “I know you'll continue to make Ice proud.”

Jake nodded and he glanced down at Sam with a small smile. As everyone began to dissipate, Nat headed over to Sam. She gave her a huge hug.

“I'm so sorry, Sam. He's not in pain anymore.” She said softly and that made Sam's tears well up again and she swallowed hard as her and Nat embraced, tighter than the last. Jake stood with his hands in his pockets, waiting for Sam to come back to his arms. Bradley, Bob, Javy, and Reuben made their way over, saying sorry to Sarah first and then Sam.

“So...Hangman, huh?” Bradley said, a little disapproving, as he gave Sam a hug. She nodded and shot a small smile toward Jake, who was talking with Javy. Nat still had an arm around Sam's shoulders.

“I couldn't believe it either but...he's actually nice when you get to know him. Sam is doing God's work out here, taming Hangman's ego.” Nat said, smiling at Sam. She wasn't just saying it because of the situation either. Jake had a lot to make up for with some of his fellow pilots, but when Sam had asked Nat to come to dinner with them the other night, she saw what Sam liked about him so much. Nat saw the side of Jake that he didn't show to anyone because he thought they'd think he was weak. He'd thought they would think he was soft. So that side of Jake, the real Jake down to his core, was reserved only for very special people and very special occasions. And Sam was very special to him.

“Well, Sammy, I don’t like it, but I’ll be respectful, because I can see how much he means to you. And I can tell he will take really good care of you.” Bradley maintained, glancing at Hangman, at Jake, then his eyes focused back on Sam, as Jake slid in beside her again.

The ring was still in his pocket. He'd been carrying it around for a few days, trying to figure out when the best time was to propose. He just felt horrible that he was going to ask her to marry him at such a low point in her life. She’d just lost her father. Why did he think this was a good time?

Because he said he would take away all her pain, and asking her to be his forever seemed like the most logical way to do that right now. Maybe his reasoning was shit, but nonetheless, he knew he needed to do this sooner rather than later. He wasn’t afraid of losing her but he was afraid that she might decide to run away to somewhere that he couldn’t go. And with the mission only a week away, he wanted to make sure that when he came back, which was his main goal, to come back, that he had her here and that she was promised to him, and only him.

Everyone was going out for drinks that night at the Hard Deck to celebrate Iceman’s life and legacy. Jake felt like if he could get Sam away from everyone, onto the beach, then perhaps they could have a quiet moment and he could ask. That would even have to be timed right though, as he knew Sam was probably hoping, or even planning to get good and drunk tonight.

🛩🛩🛩

Maverick had everyone's attention at the Hard Deck, to make a toast in honor of Iceman. He'd gotten Sarah to come out for a round. Everyone was there. All of Jake’s detachment, even Cyclone and Warlock were comfortably drinking and chatting with everyone. People had spilled out onto the sidewalk, the parking lot, and the patio.

Jake paid for a round for his co-pilots, Javy paid for a round, Maverick, and Bradley too. The more drunk Bradley got, the looser his lips became and Nat tried to keep him away from Sam, but she had been trying to flirt with Bob too. She really liked Bob. Nat and Sam were a bit like in that they usually went for asshole guys. Bob had shown Nat that he was safe, and respectful, and she kind of wanted a change of pace. She knew she shouldn’t fall for her WSO, but she really couldn’t help it. Bob was too tempting.

While she and Bob were discussing some inside joke between them, as a pilot and her WSO should have, she’d let Bradley out of her sights and he’d made his way over to Sam and leaned against the wall next to her. He put his arm around her shoulders and while Sam was getting drunk, she wasn’t as sloshed as Bradley.

“Hey, sweets, I wish you’d given me even half the shot you’re giving old Jakey. Think about that night we had all the fuckin’ time. I tell everyone that you were the best piece of ass I ever had.” He pointed at Jake, who couldn’t hear what Bradley said over the din of the bar, but he bristled seeing Bradley’s arm around his girl. Sam shrugged his arm off her shoulders and patted him on the chest.

“Oh Roo, this is exactly why I never gave you a second chance. You have no respect for me and it gets even worse when you’re drunk.” Sam motioned between them and she headed over to Jake.

“Everything okay there?” He whisper-yelled in her ear and she nodded.

“He’s just jealous, Jake. Don’t need that shit right now.” She affirmed and Jake downed the rest of his beer and put it down on the edge of the pool table. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, shooting an annoyed look at Bradley, who scoffed and headed the opposite way.

Jake knew Sam was feeling pretty good after her fourth round so he decided to take her beer, and gave it to Nat to hold onto. “Hey, can we go somewhere quieter, babygirl? I wanna talk to ya about something.” He insisted, grinning wide, as his hand met the back of her neck. She curled her fingers in his dress shirt which had been untucked for some time now and allowed him to coax her out onto the patio, unsteady on her feet and giggly. She pressed a sloppy kiss to his lips and he smirked, as he was feeling his liquor a bit too. Javy was out there, making out with some girl he'd just met. Jake nodded at him and Javy just grinned. Jake led Sam down onto the sand and she immediately took her shoes off and threw them in different directions. Jake would find them later, when he was a little more sober and a little less horny.

“Jake Seresin! I think I love you!” She yelled to the night sky and twirled, falling into him. He laughed and caught her easily and kissed her. And there it was, the words he had been looking for. The words he’d wanted her to say so fucking bad, but she hadn’t yet. He knew even though she was a bit more than buzzed, she meant it. His smile grew wider as his grasp tightened around her. He didn’t want to let go, but he had to stop stalling.

“Hey, can you just stand there for a second? I wanna look at cha, beautiful girl.” He said, backing away a couple steps, putting his hands up like he was trying to get the perfect camera frame. She laughed and swished the skirt of her dress back and forth while looking expectantly at Jake. He reached in his pocket and pulled the box out. He glanced over at the patio, which they were not far from and saw that several other of their friends had joined Javy and his girl and were leaning over the railing. Nat, Bob, and Rueben were all up there looking out over the ocean with beers in their hands. If there was ever a better time...

“Samantha Kazansky!” He yelled, hands in the air, getting her full attention. She was wobbly but coherent enough that she knew he was about to ask something serious. She had butterflies in her stomach as he got down on one knee and opened the small box in his hand. “I know the timing is the fuckin' worst, but I can't go another day without being with you. Will you marry me?”

Sam jumped up and down and pulled Jake from his knee. He kept a tight grip on the ring and stopped her for a moment, to put the ring on her finger. She gazed down at it, then at him. “Wow Jake, you got me a fucking planet. You must love me or something.” She hooted and jumped into his arms and their lips crashed together. He twirled her around and they heard cheers from the patio. He couldn’t help the goofy smile across his lips as he held her close, his mouth meeting her neck.

“Hey guys! I fucking love Jake Seresin! And I'm gonna marry him!” Sam yelled and their friends all laughed. So did Jake. He had his answer even though she never actually said ‘yes’ to him. He loved her too and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her.

#jake seresin x oc #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #glen powell

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