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ghouldump · 6 months ago

Note

hi your fics are so amazing!!

if you’re open to requests, i was wondering if you could write a lestat x louis x reader fic that takes place during their huge fight in the townhouse? i can imagine the reader being a mother figure to claudia and trying to protect her during it and getting hurt in the process of trying to break up louis and lestat. i’d love to see how the reader deals with the aftermath of her and louis’ injuries as well as claudia taking care of the two of them.

sorry if its confusing😭 i thought of this while rewatching s1

For The Love Of A Daughter | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ out of fear, lestat does the unimaginable and has to try his hardest to win his family's trust back, but it may be too late

the comparison of s1 vs s2 of this scene had me on the edge of my seat 🥺 ⚠️ THIS IS S1 E5 ‼️

How did your once beautiful family go to ruins? When Claudia was created? When she rebelled? Or when she left? Your daughter, you would go to hell and back for her, yet, you couldn't convince her to stay.

Lestat was cruelly strict with her, invading her privacy by reading her diaries, not considering the fact that she was trapped in the early stages of puberty for an eternity. She couldn't help that she was a young girl stuck in this body, and he never let her forget or made it easier on her.

Louis, he'd always been passive, about your companionship, as well as his role as a parent. He wanted to keep the peace and harmony. If that meant allowing Lestat to discipline her, then he’d turn his head to not have to watch out of guilt.

Then you, Lestat often complained that you spoiled her too much. You never raised a finger to her, nor your voice. You hadn't been brought up that way, and so you did the same with her. You still remember the night she left. Packing only a few things, while you and Louis tried convincing her to stay. Standing her ground, she gave you both a hug, letting the wind carry her away.

Seven years flew by, silence made its way into the house that no longer felt like a home. Louis nose-deep in book after book, Lestat leaving going god knows where, while you remained secluded, drawing, reading, and sometimes staring at the wall.

Tonight was a rarity, Lestat wasn't running off, and Louis sat on the sofa, reading, while you sat in a chair, your head lying on your arm, taking in the soft jazz music.

Hearing the door open, Claudia entered, setting her suitcase on the floor. Rushing over, you wrapped your arms around her, rocking back and forth. Pulling away, your heart broke as Louis hugged her tightly. He too had been taking it so hard, since she had been gone. Abruptly, the music stopped, Lestat glaring at her.

“The prodigal daughter”

“I've come to apologize, I put all of you in a bad spot, I wasn't right in my head. I am now,” she said. You couldn't put your finger on it, but there was something different about her, a certain brokenness, she was trying to shut away.

“Apology not accepted,” Lestat said.

“How was college? Magna cum? Summa cum? Phi Beta Kappa?” he continued.

“I've read a lot of books. Started with Persia and Babylon, the old gods who longed for blood. A lot of it was popcorn, but a few old tomes. A Romanian tract on vampirs. A strange old Hungarian text, ‘Masticatione Mortuorum,’ the chewing dead. I plan to leave for that part of the world as soon as I can,” she told him. You and Louis shared a look, sensing that this wasn't headed in a positive direction.

“So, quick stop home to do laundry before you fuck off for good,” Lestat spat.

“A quick stop to pick up my mama and Louis,” she told him. Your hand went to your stomach, trying to control the unsettling nervousness building up. Lestat glanced at the two of you, before glaring at her in disgust.

“Oh, Perused a few folklore anthologies, and now you're going to cross the ocean and take on a society of monsters,” he said, slowly making his way towards her.

“If what I've read is lies, then tell me what's true,” she told him, but he only continued to stare at her as if she was beneath him.

“Seven years and what’s changed, other than you need a housekeeper?” she sneered. He slowly approached her, and as you were about to step forward to intervene, Louis grabbed your hand, discreetly shaking his head.

“The vampires out there…are vicious. Oh, but you've learned that already. Who did you meet out there in the American hinterland? Read her,” Lestat looked at the two of you, walking away. Staring at her, you quickly wiped the tear from your eye, you couldn't imagine what she had been through all on her own.

“That’s it, keep 'em scared. That's his way,” she said to you both.

“The vampires in Europe are much, much worse”

“But I think he's scared,” she spoke over him.

“I never asked, how did Charlie taste? Like the love you'll never really know,” he said, trying to get under her skin.

“And when he's scared, he ridicules”

“She was a destitute little girl, destined to live an inconsequential little life,” he said, approaching the both of you.

“And we took it from her, we cursed her,” Louis said, making the smug expression drop from his face. Looking at you, his frown deepened, seeing you gaze at her, the bloody tears moments from seeping out.

“Come with me!” she called out, both of you staring at her.

“Come with me, mama, Louis”

“Louis, Y/n,” Lestat said, becoming angry as neither of you looked at him.

“I thought I could live without either of you, but I was wrong,” Claudia said, her eyes pleading for you to come along.

“Y/n, Louis”

“Louis, Y/n,” Lestat continued, raising his voice.

“His love is a small box he keeps you both in, don't stay in it,” she said, as you glanced at him.

“A thousand nights of sulking, and the first sight of her, you are just gonna up and leave me?!” Lestat yelled.

“Please, come with me! Let’s be vampires worth of your love!” Claudia screamed before Lestat surged, choking her.

“Get off of her,” you said, going to shove him off of her. However, he was much stronger, gaining the upper hand, his fingers wrapping around your throat, he looked unrecognizable.

“You, always choosing her,” he spat, before Louis charged over, tackling him.

As they fought, Claudia screamed, panicking, as you tried to keep up with them. Throwing Louis in the living room. Lestat straddled him, punching him in the face.

“Lestat, stop it,” you cried out, jumping on his back, but he easily slung you across the room, as you smashed into the wall, you could feel your arm already broken.

“Claudia, stay down here,” you told her, rushing to the bedroom.

“Stop fighting,” you screamed, as they continued tackling each other.

“Let him go,” you hear Claudia crying.

“It’s alright, you stay where you're at,” Louis told her, as if he wasn't completely bruised up.

“You're going to choose her too? Leave me for her when she left you both, I’ve been here,” he told you, as you slowly backed away, unsure of what he'd do next.

“Lestat st-

“Do not tell me what to do,” he told you, wrapping his hand around your throat, and pulling you close. His nails were in your skin, with your airway completely blocked.

Dragging both of you downstairs, and outside, you could hear Claudia running.

“I fought myself a million times, fought my nature, controlled my temper. I never once harmed either of you,” he said.

“Let him go,” you cried, hoarsely, trying to claw at his hand, while reaching for Louis.

“Silence,” he told you.

“Uncle Les”

“It's Uncle Les, now suddenly?”

“Let them go, they didn't do nothin’, let them go, it's me you want,” you could hear her steps approaching.

“Listen to me, and listen very carefully my infant death, it was never you. No matter how much your mama made you think otherwise,” he spat, crushing your throat, and dragging you both out into the road.

“I chose you, and you, given you the dark gift and you've betrayed me,” he said, biting into your neck, draining almost every ounce of blood from your body, before throwing you, watching as you flew into the backyard, colliding with bricks, you could feel your rib cage shatter.

However, as you stood up, you quickly fell to your knees in pain and fear for Louis’s life, watching as they flew into the sky to the point where they were no longer seen.

“Mama, are you alright?” Claudia ran to you, reaching for her hand, your other hand on your throat. You couldn't speak, Lestat’s nails had managed to pierce through. Claudia gasped, as you coughed, blood spilling out.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“I’m okay, we just need to get Louis,” she said, helping you stand, however, just as you stood, Louis fell from the sky, hitting the ground. Limping over, you were afraid to touch him, the slightest touch looked as if it would break him even more.

Crying, you looked up, staring into Lestat’s eyes as he flew over you all, not saying a word. You couldn't say it, but from your expression, there was no way you could easily forgive him after this.

Healing was a struggle, not just from the physical damage, but any previous trust was gone. While you managed to bounce back within a few months, Louis had a long way to go. Lestat skipped town and hadn't bothered to show his face.

You avoided thinking about him, altogether. Dedicating yourself to Claudia and Louis, from coffin-bound to limping, every day was progress. Louis was slowly getting better and you both worked on strengthing your bond with Claudia. Then the calls started coming.

All of this time, you managed to push through the soreness and pain, but the moment he called you hid away, licking your eternal wounds. He was a completely different person that night, the things he said, the things he'd done. After Louis fully healed, you were no longer opposed to the idea of leaving for Europe with Claudia.

Hearing the doorbell ringing, you turned your head, watching as Claudia went outside. You could hear his voice, he had gifts, and he wanted to talk, to apologize. Louis went upstairs, throwing his coffin out of the window, you couldn't help but snicker.

“There’s your answer”

“And where is Y/n? I know she would enjoy these paints, they are rare. I paid quite a price because I knew she would make the most beautiful-

“My mama ain't got nothin’ to say to you, like you said, she betrayed you, choosing me,” she told him, shutting the door, and locking it.

Coming back to the living room, she glanced your way before to Louis, who came from upstairs. As Louis sat next to you, you pulled him close.

“You okay?” you asked him.

“Getting there,” he mumbled, smiling as you kissed his cheek.

Lestat didn't show his face anymore, but the gifts never stopped. Each time more spontaneous than the next, and while you knew, Louis was becoming weaker, you wished you could say the same for yourself.

“Emily Dickinson is not a vampire,” Louis said, as you laughed.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“Because she is dead,” you pointed out.

“How do you know?”

“She got a grave,” Louis said.

“And a tombstone,” you added.

“So do you,” She told Louis, all of you laughing, afterward.

As you crossed the streets, the driver honked their horn, as they slowly came to a stop in front of you. Opening the door, Lestat climbed out, smiling at you all. Rolling your eyes, you simply looked the other way.

“25 horsepower Rolls-Royce six-cylinder engine and a front end they call a coffin nose, is that rich? This one’s yours, mine’s back at home in blue,” he said, showing off the new car, and tossing the keys to Louis.

“I know how much you despise driving, so I got you other things, the finest fabrics, books, art supplies, and music, waiting for you at home, I'm back in town permanently,” he continued, looking your way, but you just stared off to the side, as if you didn't see him.

“Were you gone?” Claudia asked him.

“Across the river, in Algiers,” he said, you could still feel his eyes on the two of you.

“You know who lives in Algiers” Claudia said to you, as you clenched your jaw.

“I don't know what possessed me that night,” he said.

“Three years ago, that night, three years ago, he means,” Claudia corrected him.

“I was someone I don't want to be anymore. I've changed. Let me prove it to you. I’m nothing without you. I’m nothing without any of you”

“If you want me to go away, just say so. I’ll obey you. I’ll leave your lives forever. This silence is cruel, all I ask is that Y/n looks at me. You haven't spared me a glance since I've been here. Neither of you were ever cruel, don't let our situation change you,” he said.

“Just look at him,” Louis pleaded.

Turning to face him, he cleared his throat, straightening his posture. You didn't say anything, emotionlessly staring at him.

“You look stunning as always, ma chérie,” he complimented, his heart breaking as you looked away again.

Taking the keys, Claudia threw them, before scratching the car, reaching for your hand, walking away.

Six years, came and went, and more gifts flooded the house. It was unspoken between you and Louis that you both missed him. Although it looked different, Louis wanted him to come running back, each extravagant, but sentimental gift was tugging more and more at Louis’s heart. You preferred the distance, reminiscing on the past, before that night. You didn't think you could have that back, now, you secretly enjoyed every time he saw you, or wrote to you, begging that you would acknowledge him.

Unexpectedly, it happened, the record came in the mail and was immediately played. The song meant to win you both back while pissing you off, a song sung by his affair partner. Louis was seething, grabbing the record, and ran out of the house.

“You're not going with him?” Claudia asked.

“They will be back,” you mumbled, knowing his plan worked, he got through to Louis and would be coming back.

“Rule number four-

“Kill Antoinette”

“Antoinette is my own private-

“Affair,” Claudia said.

“Said child, interfering in the romantic lives of her parents,” Lestat said, wanting one of you to stop her. She had been sharp with him since the moment he stepped into the house.

“She will be 33 soon, far from a child,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes.

“It’s a lick and a promise in vampire years,” he shrugged.

“Maybe, but I am not your child anymore, that's rule number five,” Claudia said, catching his attention.

His eyes shifted from her to you, your interlocked hands. She had you, wrapped around her fingers, taken from him. Louis was more willing to work on the broken relationship, but you had shut him out, choosing your child.

“I’ll be your companion, your sister,” she told him, as he scoffed.

“It's not as simple as choosing a new family configuration, now I'm your cousin, now I'm your aunt, I am your maker,” he told her rudely.

“I’m going to bed,” you said, standing abruptly, he looked into your cold eyes, searching for any emotion.

“Will you not lay down your rules, as well?” he asked, sarcastically.

“Good night,” was all you said, turning away, going upstairs.

“She needs time,” you could hear Louis say.

Did you need more time? You didn't go through nearly as much as Louis and he managed to forgive him, why couldn't you? You were never maternal until Claudia came along, perhaps it came with being a mother. The way that he treated her, turned you against him. As much as you loved him, thinking back to the times you were spoiled, lavished as if you were royalty, you couldn't bring yourself to open up.

Hunting became insufferable. Louis began drinking human blood, it was supposed to bring everyone closer, hunting as a family, but you kept your distance. He knew he'd wounded you, his choice of words hurting you just as bad, and he'd have to be more persistent to win you back.

“I wished you’d look at me, the simplest glance would help me a great deal,” he said, following you, sighing in relief as you faced him.

“Happy?”

“You have my heart at your will, your precious words command me, and I would do anything you ask of me,” he said, trying to fight the tears, as you slowly approached him.

“Take up your heart, I wouldn't want you to feel betrayed when I don't choose you,” you said, turning around, leaving him to stand there and try to gather his emotions.

“Could you at least try to compromise?” Louis asked you, as you looked through the different fabrics in the store.

“I am-

“No, you're not, you put your coffin in Claudia’s room, and the other night, whatever you said, he cried himself to sleep”

“Aw, poor baby,” you said, placing the fabrics into Louis’ arms.

“You agreed that we would work things out, everybody is compromising trying to work through our problems, we need you too,” he said, pouting, as you approached the cash register.

“Fine, I hate when you give me that look,” you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“Thank you, I love you,” you grinned.

“I love you,” you laughed, pecking his lips.

Later that night, after putting away your things, and changing into your nightgown, you were about to into Claudia’s room, when you stopped. Huffing, you went to your shared bedroom, opening the door.

“Did she say anything? I left a note, but she never responds,” Lestat grumbled.

“I talked with her, but it is up to her to make a decision,” Louis said.

“I hope you don't expect us to squeeze that coffin,” you said, making both of them face you.

“We could always sleep in the bed,” Louis offered, both of them approaching you.

‘Thank you’ he said, as you faced Lestat.

“Will you keep that stupid look on your face, or will you speak?” you asked.

“I didn't know it was okay for me to do so,” he chuckled.

“Y/n is willing to compromise, she hasn't said it verbally, but she does still love you,” Louis spoke, as you stared at the two of them.

“Ma chérie, if I could take back what I've said, what I’ve done-

“But you can't”

“I can't, and I will have to live with the burden of knowing I hurt you and Louis both, your role in Claudia’s life was never a problem, I am sorry, my love,” he said, walking to you, falling to his knees in front of you. His head laid against your stomach, and he continued to apologize profusely.

“To have you look at me, after months of refusal, even if it is a look of anger, is to see heaven,” he said, looking up at you. Reaching for his hand, you helped him stand, pecking his lips. Holding your hand out for Louis, as soon as he was close enough, your lips were on his soft skin.

Pushing Lestat onto the bed, you straddled his lap, rolling your hips, as Louis stood behind you, kissing your neck. Leaning down, you wrapped your hands around his neck.

“I’ll forgive you, but if you ever do anything remotely similar, I’ll make sure you burn in the sun, and I’ll wear you as makeup,” you said, making him smirk.

“Anything you say, although the thought of me being on your face, arouses me greatly,” he said, watching as you pulled Louis onto the bed, moving over to him.

Your nearly decade-long monogamy had now come to an end, sharing the night with Louis and Lestat. You had forgotten how spontaneous he was, managing to pleasure both of you.

‘Have you taken him back, like Louis?’ Claudia asked.

‘For now’ you thought, as Lestat kissed along your shoulder blade.

‘Do you think Louis will help?’

‘He will’

‘Do you think it will work?’

‘I don't know, my child, but we will try’

‘We can do it, mama, he wants to keep you and Louis for himself, he hates me and would probably kill me if it meant having you both alone’

‘I know’

Now lying in bed, Lestat in between you and Louis, both of you in his arms.

“I hope you will allow me to continue to prove myself to you, and I am lost without either of you, I feel empty without you both here with me, I love you,” he spoke, you couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered.

“Then it is official, we will kill Lestat’

‘And if our plan doesn't work?’

‘Then we escape to Europe, we find other vampires, and we rebuild our lives there, does that sound okay?”

‘It sounds perfect’

‘Great, good night mama’

‘Good night, my child’

Looking up at Lestat’s face, he lay peacefully, his eyes shut, face relaxed. He was incredibly handsome, you didn't dare tell Claudia but coming to this room, you were just as weak as Louis. Would you be able to kill this beautiful man, the love of your life? Or run away and live an eternity with your daughter? You couldn't decide anymore, only time would tell.

brotha eughhh, this was so mid

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac x reader #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #louis x reader

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leighsartworks216 · 20 days ago

Text

His Beautiful Nose

Sylus x gn!Reader

This is all I think about when I see him sometimes, genuinely. I just see his nose and I go a little insane

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing, biting, teasing, silly

Word Count: 1,001 (all my fics lately have had such satisfying word counts ough so good)

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADS Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

"Sweetie, what are you doing?"

You shush him, focused on whatever the hell you were up to right now. Sylus quirks a brow at you.

"I think I have a right to know, since you're holding my face hostage," he teases, speaking in a languid murmur, raspy.

You'd found him asleep in one of his many lounge chairs; legs out, arms crossed, head back. It was impossible to ignore the desire to sneak around behind the chair and hold his face. Of course, doing so woke him up, which led you here.

"I'm just appreciating how pretty you are," you tell him. And it's not technically a lie. You are appreciating his beauty. Just, a specific part of his beauty.

"And you can't sit in my lap and do that?" He reaches back behind the chair. His large hand finds your back easily and begins tracing light shapes into your sides, your spine - wherever he could reach.

You giggle and squirm away from his ticklish touch. "No, now stay still and hush."

He huffs with exasperation, but he does as you ask. His hand settles on your lower back, loosely holding you close. He appreciates you in turn with his crimson eyes, half-lidded with sleep.

You run your thumbs along his cheeks. His skin is smooth, pliant beneath your fingers. He seems so untouchable - and he is. To everyone that isn't you. The fact you're this close means more than you'll ever be able to fully grasp.

You lean down and press a delicate kiss between his eyebrows. His fingers twitch against your back. You trace under his eyes, coaxing him into closing them and putting his full trust in your hands. You kiss the spot again.

The next spot your lips find is perhaps half an inch down, at the point where his nose begins protruding from his face. It's an odd place for a kiss, he thinks. You must be up to something, yet he allows it anyway.

Kisses are slowly peppered down his nose. Each one takes its time, each following the strong line of his nose, over the bump and the wide bridge, down to the tip. Each one pours into the lazy smile tugging at his lips. You really woke him up just to "appreciate" his nose?

The kisses retreat towards his brow, but never reach it. One kiss, then two placed at the most prominent part of his nose's definition, and then-

He cracks an eye open. "Did you just bite my nose?"

You hum with a slight nod, kissing over the spot again. "I've been wanting to bite it for weeks now. This seemed like the perfect opportunity." Despite the nonchalant way you say it, he can practically feel the heat radiating off your face and onto his.

He chuckles softly and draws you closer by your back. "Do it again."

Truly, you didn't expect for that to be his response. You anticipated this being the one and only time you'd ever be allowed to do this. But he's encouraging it, with clear amusement.

Your teeth settle on either side of the bridge of his nose and not very far down, not even as far back as your canines, and gently bite down. It's not a lot of pressure, either. Realistically, it's more of a light nip, but he hums his approval. When you pull away, your lips catch on his skin, just as his do when he bites your hand. It's perfect.

His eyes watch now with unreserved affection. His hand trails up your back, reaches to cradle the back of your neck and the base of your skull. "Come here," he murmurs lowly. You're guided forward, drawn down as he tilts his head further back to meet his lips.

Your mouths move together in languid, drowsy kisses. The faint wet sound of your lips parting and shared, soft breaths fill the room. His nose presses against your chin, and yours in his, but neither of you move from the awkward angle except to deepen the kiss.

You feel the smirk on his lips before you see it. He pulls away and your body is suddenly weightless, floating through the air, carried by playful tendrils of energy.

"Sylus! What're you doing?!" You're flipped over him, slow enough you don't get lightheaded, to the front of the chair and directly into his lap. His arms wrap powerfully around your waist to draw you against his chest. Light kisses trail along your neck.

"You woke me from my nap. It only seems fair to keep you here," he says against your skin.

There's no point trying to push his arms away or wriggling free. He's much too strong for that. So, you give in. You sigh with a playful roll of your eyes and lean back into him, trying to find some comfortable position. Once you're settled, one of his arms slips from around you, and gently fingers turn you by your chin to face him.

"I also need to return the favor, don't I?"

He takes his sweet time doing so. A trail of kisses, all light pecks, winds from your jaw to your chin to your cheek. They finally come to your forehead, where he places one between your brows. Down to where your nose begins. Down over the bridge, to the tip, and back up.

Your breath catches in your throat as he tilts his head and carefully lines his teeth up in just the same way you did. He bites down, gentle in a way that seems unfathomable to anyone else who knew him. After a second, he pulls away, lips catching on your skin.

He leans back into the chair and guides your head to his shoulder before wrapping his arm around you once more. He sighs, long and low, with content. "Wake me up in four hours," he murmurs.

"And what am I supposed to do until then?"

"You should have thought about that before you snuck in, sweetie."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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lostintransist · 2 months ago

Text

Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 2

-…. ….- ..—- .—— / .-. . -.-. —- .-. -.. . -.. / -.. . .- -..

Part 1 found here | AO3

CW: Very light sexual content, allergic reaction bad enough to need medical intervention, panic, dissociation

Johnny lay in the nest, warmed by Kyle who had shifted to fill the chill that John left when he had gone to answer the door. Simon lazily trails his nose over Johnny’s scent gland, drawing a light whimper from his throat.

Kyle leans in and presses their lips together, coaxing as his hand begins to trace muscles. Johnny settles a hand on Simon’s thigh, running his fingers through the hair he found there. They were off duty for another two weeks and taking full advantage of Simon’s oncoming rut. He would only be deeply affected for 48 hours but the men always pooled their leave times to give them an extra week off.

This being the third year of them taking a few weeks off for each of their ruts/heats the rest of the large team knew and adjusted for the absence of their leader and core team. Kate kept track of everyone on their specific jobs.

Simon started to harden up behind Johnny. Hands drifting over his body had Johnny closing his eyes and leaning into his lovers. The teeth at his nipple surprised him to the point of recoiling. Simon had the misfortune of resting at the edge of the bed. He hit the floor with a thump. Kyle and Johnny shared a look before they both started to laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. So funny,” Simon stood, rubbing his butt that had taken the brunt of the fall.

The men on the bed smirked as they now watched Simon stand a bit more at attention under their eyes. Before they can get Simon back into the nest John steps into the bedroom, shutting the door hard behind him.

They watch as John strips off his robe and strides into the shared closet. Kyle can only open his mouth before John is answering the yet-unspoken question.

“We need to get dressed. Kate brought us a wife.”

That had all of them moving. What the hell did he mean?

Scrambling into the closet each of them grabs the necessary clothes before shifting to standing around the nest so everyone has the elbow room they need to dress.

“John, what do you mean Kate brought us a wife?” Kyle asks after his head emerges from his turtleneck.

“Kate brought us a beta woman. She would like us to stop being so reckless on jobs. Thinks that having someone to come home to will keep us from killing ourselves on jobs.�� John sits to put his socks on, threading a socked foot into his pants before standing and doing them up.

“So what’s the plan then Captain?” Simon questions as he feeds his belt through the loops of his pants. “Obviously we don’t need a beta.”

“A wife wouldn’t be terrible though,” Johnny pointed out as he tucked his thin layer into his pants and grabbed his own jumper. A bonnie to hold and smile at them when they stumble in through the door? That sounded amazing to him.

“The plan is Johnny and Kyle will be taking her to town for some clothes and a bed. Kate insists she gets a bed and a space to retreat to. Simon, I want you to see what you can sniff out from her clothes. Maybe check what Kate has been up to lately.” John pauses, shirt tucked into his armpits as he prepares to lift it over his head. “Something about her smells…wrong. You have a more sensitive nose than I do, I need your opinion on her. I’ll start working on cleaning out the room behind the kitchen.”

“What are Kyle and I watching for then John?” Johnny runs a hand over his hair, deciding that he wouldn’t need to do much about it since he would be putting on a beanie shortly.

“Anything we can glean from her. She didn’t say much after Kate left. Watched me until I came upstairs, lot of thoughts behind those eyes though. You’ll see what I mean.” John opened the door that led to the stairs.

They all trailed after him. John had been right. Something smelled off about you. Almost broken? It reminded Johnny of the time Simon said his sauce had “broke” and the fats and water and flavors no longer sat well together.

You are standing at the front window, staring out over the vast stretch of forest they owned all around the property. They had chosen this spot deliberately five years ago when they were buying land to build their home on. It backed up to a national forest and they would never have to worry about neighbors.

Johnny approaches you around the couch. You pull back slightly from the window and notice the fog your breath left on the glass. A finger is lifted, leaving a frowny face in its wake. When you turn to look at him Johnny sees what John meant about your eyes.

You don’t leak scents of displeasure or fear like anyone else would in this situation; no, the feelings bubble in your eyes instead. Your stress sat in your shoulders and the slight bend in your knees, not in your scent gland.

“‘ello, you can call me Johnny. We’re going to town to get you supplies for your room.” He smiles gently at you. You only narrow your eyes in response. “Where did Kate put your coat?”

You look from eye to eye three times before answering. “Kate didn’t get me a coat. Only had cash and she said I needed clothes more.”

Johnny liked Kate. He had never wanted to slap her more than in this moment though. Nodding once he lifted a hip to rest on the couch as he folded his arms. You wince as his anger is communicated through the air. Simon complained that his anger tasted of burning rubber.

“I have a coat you can borrow until we get you one in town. Would that be okay?” He probes gently.

The narrowing of your eyes is exactly what he expected. You were going to take a long time to trust them.

“How about we get the truck started and then you only need to wear it between the house and the car?” Johnny offered.

“Fine.” You cross your arms and cast your gaze back to the snow beyond the window.

Twisting Johnny catches Kyle’s eye as he lurks in the kitchen.

“Grab my coats would you?” He tilts his head to their new wife as if Kyle hadn’t heard the conversation echo due to the acoustics of the home.

Kyle grabs both coats from the closet near the front door and drops a kiss on Johnny’s lips before leaving to start the truck. John catches him with a kiss and a whisper. Johnny offers both coat options to you and watches with a smile as you grab the coat that smells less strongly of him.

By unspoken agreement Kyle and Johnny let you learn about them through the conversations they have during the drive. It takes nearly an hour despite the roads being clear and dry. The tourists creeping their way up the mountain roads always slowed things down. Kyle dropped you and Johnny off to head further into town to pick up a bed frame and a mattress.

Johnny watches you as you drift from store to store. They lived close to a ski resort and had several stores that sold everything from socks to pants and coats. You picked soft clothes, muted colors, and several of the same socks and underwear. He only saw your face light up once. You were softly stroking a garishly bright shawl as you held it up to the mirror. When you saw Johnny lift his brows at you in said mirror you put it back and moved on. He made note of its position in the store before following you.

When Kyle came back Johnny filled the back seat with the various bags.

“‘bout time for lunch, any preference?” Kyle asks you.

You shake your head looking much warmer in real winter boots and a long coat. Johnny had insisted at the last store visited that you needed a hat and a scarf as well. Hands shoved into your pockets you are covered as Simon is on jobs, nose tucked against the cold.

It is decided that a new Thai spot would be the answer. Johnny pulls the keys from Kyle’s hand and a kiss.

“I’ll be right there,” he murmured against his cheek before turning and disappearing around a corner.

When he slides into the booth next to you the food is hot and ready on the table.

“Didn’t know what you would like so I got a platter for the table,” Kyle hands you a bundle, a napkin wrapped around a fork, and a spoon.

Conversation flows, Kyle and Johnny are careful to leave space for you to add your thoughts on matters like what they should have for dinner or if they should roast marshmallows in the fire tonight. You pick at your food and watch them watch you. When Johnny and Kyle have eaten their fill and boxed up the remaining food they settle the bill and you follow them into the grocery store next door to the restaurant.

Kyle, ever practical, heads up the pharmacy first. You and Johnny follow.

He tosses a box of condoms to Johnny who catches it with ease, even with his off-hand.

“Do we need any of these?”

This is cause for you to break your silence.

“You won’t need those for me.” You are cut off with a cough, fist to your face.

“These aren’t for you, but why wouldn’t you need them?” Johnny glances over at you, brow cocked.

Your hand has moved, cupping your throat as you cough into your other elbow. A light sweat has started across your face and the coughs are getting harsher. When wheezing starts and your body begins to crunch in on itself Johnny takes off for a different section of the pharmacy.

Hollering at the pharmacist behind the counter he points your direction, “I need an epipen!”

The pharmacist tosses it to him over the counter and low shelves between them as she darts for the door. Johnny doesn’t wait, racing back to you. He couldn’t hear much over the racing of his heart. They hadn’t even had a wife for six hours and she was dying on them!

Kyle has you laid out on the floor as you gasp for air. Sliding in next to you as if he were stealing a base Johnny removes the EpiPen from its travel case, uncaps and presses his thumb down to the top, and slams home the needle into your outer thigh.

He starts counting to thirty, the pharmacist appearing at his side before he reaches ten. By fifteen you are gulping down air as tears steak into your hair.

“There is a clinic two buildings down from here.” She glances over you as she dials something on her phone. Fingers reach for your neck as she takes your pulse.

Kyle gently takes the hand batting at the pharmacist, placing a light kiss on the knuckles. You are sobbing now, heaving breaths and tears streaming down your temples.

“Hi, this is Dr. Kumar, the pharmacist down the street. I have a beta woman incoming with her partners for an allergic reaction. We have administered an EpiPen on site but since I am not an MD I am sending her to you to confirm she is okay.” Dr. Kumar pointed to Kyle with two fingers, then to you, and hooked at thumb toward the front door.

“We gotcha bonnie, we will keep you safe.” He murmured the mindless words of comfort at you, unable to keep from attempting to soothe you as your fear punched into his nose. Interesting, that.

Johnny pulled the pen from your leg, needle already retracted, and passed it off to Dr. Kumar as he helped sit you up. Breaths are coming easier already, your skin is clammy and your eyes wild. You hold onto Johnny’s hand like the last life raft from the Titanic. Kyle shifts his hands under your thighs, standing to the gasps of several old women. Johnny caught sight of them fanning themselves as they pushed through the crowd that had formed.

Dr. Kumar, still on the phone, directed people out of the way with a sharp word and saw them off at the door, face worried. Johnny nodded to her once as he kept pace with Kyle. Thank the gods that John ensured they all stayed in top form.

Your words are getting clearer the closer they get to the clinic.

“Please don’t let them touch me. Don’t leave me alone. Please. Please. Please.”

“We won’t leave you alone,” Kyle shifted one arm to hold you, rubbing your back with the other. “Just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am going to call John, can you handle this until I get off the phone?” Johnny winces at the tight grip you have on his hand. “Lass, Kyle will kill anyone who tries to hurt you.”

They pause outside the clinic where Johnny works his fingers free of yours. The look of panic on your face will haunt him until he dies.

Kyle chokes slightly as you clamp down on his neck with your arms. The clinic staff opened the door for him, ushering him straight to the back room. Johnny dials John’s number from memory rather than searching for it. Cars drift past him as he waits He picks up on the third ring.

“How is it going with our new wife, Johnny?” He grunts as if moving something heavy.

“Poorly. We nearly lost her in the pharmacy.”

“Well did you find her?” John huffs, slightly out of breath.

“Na John, she had an allergic reaction to something from lunch. Had to stab her in the leg with an EpiPen. Kyle is in the clinic with her right now.” Johnny crushed a small ball of ice and snow beneath his boot on the sidewalk.

“The fuck happened Johnny?” The sounds from the phone tell him that Simon is now listening too.

“Don’t know John, had lunch at the new Thai restaurant, went to the pharmacy and she started to cough and then couldn’t breathe. Kyle got her to lie down and I got meds from the pharmacist. Kyle is in the clinic with her now. I’ve never seen someone so panicked to go to the doc,” Johnny shoves his other hand in a pocket, focusing on crushing another ball of ice.

“Hold on, I am calling Kate,” John warns. The line goes silent.

Johnny looks into the clinic, seeing nothing beyond the simple decor and the receptionist behind the tall counter.

“Kate, our new wife had an allergic reaction at lunch. Is there anything else she should know about her?” John questions with barely contained rage.

A sigh is the only response at first.

“I don’t know John. I haven’t found all of her records yet.”

“What the fuck do you mean you haven’t found her records yet Kate? Where did you find her?”

“John, all I have on her is from the two weeks before the FBI raided. There is a lot I can’t tell you but what I can say on this unsecured line is you should do some research on arachnids.”

She drops off the line with a click. Scowling at the distance Johnny bites back the urge to start yelling at Kate. More riddles and questions.

“Get her home, Simon and I will clear out the peanuts from the house,” John sighs into his ear.

“Why peanuts? It could have been anything in the meal.” Johnny watches as a group of skiers, colorful as tropical birds, walk across the street on the opposite side.

“Could have been, but a swipe of peanut butter on her hand when she gets back will confirm. It’s a really common allergy and we won’t have time to take her for an allergy test until after Simon’s rut.”

Johnny nods to himself and then verbalizes his agreement before ending the call. The receptionist leads him straight back when he steps through the door.

You sit on the bed, eyes wide and light gone from them, quietly singing Edelweiss. Kyle stands with arms folded and back stiff. His work face is on. Something had happened.

“You are more than you appear, wife,” Johnny took your hand as he settled into a chair conveniently next to the bed. You stay distant until halfway through the drive home.

A/N: I did not mean for it to go this way... I keep fighting with myself to let everyone live to the end of the story....

Broken Masterlist | Masterlist

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months ago

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Can I request some domestic Ford x Reader headcanons? Just how they would live together either before portal or after the portal (or both hehe). Ty!

Given how dedicated Ford is to his work, it’s more often then not did you find him sleeping on or in places he probably shouldn’t, you’d try and make his position a little more comfortable by covering him with a blanket or putting a pillow or two under his head in hopes of preventing a crooked neck.

You’d press a kiss to the top of his head and whispered sweet dreams to him, unknown to you that after everything with Bill Ford had became a light sleeper, and so would feel touched whenever you take care of him in small but meaningful ways.

This sweet yet insufferable nerd would find himself captivated by you so much doing mundane things that he ends up drawing them in his note book subconsciously. So much to the point where when he pulls himself out of his own mind, he finds several two page spreads dedicated to you feeding stray cats, talking and or playing with Dipper and Mabel, giving Waddles a bath, or just you standing in the kitchen first thing in the morning looking haggard but beautiful none the less.

Physical touch is his love language followed by acts of service to make up for the fact that he spends most of his time in the lab more so then by your side like he should as your partner. you knew how much his work meant to him but Ford could clearly see the glimmers of his neglect within your eyes when you tell him you understand that his work was high priority.

It hurt him to know that he was the one causing the distance between you two and he felt as though you shouldn’t compromise yourself just to better suit him and his wants and needs. So he’ll always try to make up for his neglect and try to spend his mornings with you by making you breakfast and bring it to bed for you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. Ford only wanted to repay you for being there for him while condemning himself for not tearing the favour.

‘Normally you’d be in the lab by now.’ You pointed out as you watched as he slipped back into bed with you, something he rarely did since he was more often than not fast asleep on that makeshift bed down in the lab.

Ford feels just how cold his side of your supposedly shared bed was and could only imagine the amount of times where you’ve fell asleep alone, dreaming of the day where he’d come up and join you, only to frequently be greeted with the sight of an empty and cold mattress instead of him.

Why he never comes to your shared room was a mystery to even himself as he felt it went a lot deeper then him just being sleepy, was it because he didn’t feel as though he should share a bed with you after the amount of times he has neglected you for his work? Possibly but he wanted to change that and stop being absent in your relationship.

‘I fear I haven’t been the best of romantic partners as of late and for that I must apologise and make things right by you.’ He replied and you placed a hand over his own, squeezing it reassuringly. ‘I won’t disagree with you there but please take your time Ford, I’m not going anywhere.’ You tell him softy and Ford was once again proven why he didn’t deserve you nor your kindness.

So Ford would slowly start to do things for you that he knew you were less then wanting to do unless it was the last resort whether it be washing the dishes or tying your shoes when the laces come undone and you huff in annoyance. Anything that maybe an inconvenience to you Ford will do for you instead so that you don’t have to bother with it.

He’s got a good memory and knows your likes and dislikes like the back of his hand and he treasures this knowledge greatly, no notebook needed when it comes to you that you feel seen and loved whenever he remembers the little bits about you that would go over someone’s head.

Like how you like your morning drink, how you like your sandwiches cut, your favourite flower, your favourite memory-which was of the time the Mabel drew on him and thrown glitter on his red turtleneck while covering his hands in her sticker collection- and how you loved to steal his turtlenecks because you miss him whenever he’s in the lab.

So he starts to leave his favoured red turtleneck where he knows you frequent as he hides nearby to watch you smile softly and wear the turtleneck for the rest of the day. Whatever made you happy made him happy in return, being in a relationship with him may have not been that easy but he thanked you for staying with him when you could’ve left him.

Listens to you speak and could listen to you talk the day away and it could pertain to anything and everything, Ford just likes hearing you speak passionately about things you loved or have experienced while out in town and come home just to tell him. So much so that he gets this look in his eye whenever you speak about your daily activity that you’d have to stop and ask; ‘what’s with that look in your eye?’

He doesn’t understand what you meant by that and asks himself; ‘what look my dear?’

You: the one that you get whenever you’re really interested in what I’m saying, even if it’s boring.

Ford: because what you’re saying is investing to me, even if it may seem boring to you but to me I’m just being feed more reasons why I adore you.

You burrow your head into the Turtleneck you stole from him because of the feelings he brought out within your chest.

You would return the favour by listening to him speak his mind about the oddities of Gravity Falls in depth and his theories about how many more of them could be out there, waiting to be discovered and documented. He even told you about the time he drop kicked Gnomes once, the mental image of it made you laugh.

Ford is a bit of a homebody when it comes to date nights, not for any reason in particular, other than the fact he wanted to be focused on you and only you. So Mabel helps him plan for these dates in extensive detail, even if it was written in glittery pink gel pen. Most of the time you spend it on the roof of the shack where you can watch the stars come out while enjoying the others company.

It wasn’t much but it was much to you and Ford as you rest your head on his shoulder, take in the fact that he was here with you and inevitably fall asleep on his shoulder after he rests his head atop of your own, whispering sweet dreams to you this time before he manages to carry you back to bed; where this time he joins you and brings you into his arms tightly before falling asleep himself, warning his side of the bed at long last.

Also you probably have to patch him up after he goes out monster hunting, the man maybe smart be he’s often times reckless with himself. Also kiss his scars please he’ll love you for infinity if you did so, and also kiss his hands for he had gotten unnecessarily picked on about and call them his unique gift that he shouldn’t be ashamed of, you thought having six fingers was cool. You’ll have that man melting faster then butter if you do and you get to see his hardened face become soft and tender that you can’t help but smother in kisses.

#gravity falls x you #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls #stanford pines x you #stanford pines imagines #stanford pines imagine #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x you #ford pines imagines #ford pines imagine #ford pines x reader

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megapteraurelia · 17 days ago

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hiii just saw your post about needing distraction and if i can help you even a little bit then i’d be happy to!! so id like a drabble with akaashi, f!reader or gn!reader, fluff, at uni?? if that’s fine?? have a lovely day <33

zeugmas and feelings.

summary | akaashi keiji and you found each other while trying to survive deadlines. or: how to not get anything done because akaashi keiji is just so damn pretty. warnings | none! it's meet-cute and fluff :3; fem!reader word count | 4449. a/n | elie, i love you, you precious!!! thank you for this and i'm sorry that i didn't keep to the idea of a drabble. for the life of me, i could NOT pass up writing several moments of akaashi so there's 4.5k words full of them instead T_T i hope i made it justice, though :3 please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´-

the library was silent on sunday; eerie yet comforting in a way.

the sun had long since set, the last of the rays that came through the windows bathing everything in a light that felt more nostalgic than it actually was before it dipped everything outside in a dark cloak. among the typing sounds on different kinds of laptops, their engines more than ready to take off after being used for so long, there was only the ticking of the clock, sometimes a soft clearing of throats or the gentle clink of a thermo cup being set down.

looking up from the mock exam you were taking for your cultural studies class, flexing your cramped fingers and rolling your shoulders, your eyes found the only other person sharing your space that late. you didn’t mean to look over at him lest you made anybody feel awkward, but in an entire picture of stillness before you, the movement drew your eyes naturally.

his fingers were swift, flying over the keyboard, gaze trained at his screen, trusting his hands to instinctively and automatically follow the letters. you couldn’t see his eyes properly, though, the glare of the laptop reflecting off his glasses. though you could see the little furrow of concentration in his brows, his teeth worrying his lower lip as he halted for a second, thinking. then nodding to himself, they resumed their display of a gear having turned in his brain.

your eyes wandered away from him to your own screen, the words staring at you, and you wondered once again whether you should have chosen a different topic to cover in this assignment. would american history work better? did you have enough characteristics to explain the relevance in the corresponding text? or did you perhaps want to stay focusing on orientalism?

after all, american history was your current topic discussed in class, its myths and ideologies, transformation of gender roles, the age of realism and science. it would be easier to just focus on any of those: the harlem renaissance, counterculture and postmodernism, the gilded age—

you rubbed your eyes, and a sigh escaped your mouth, strong and carrying a lot of exhaustion; your lungs pushed the air out forcefully. you were too far in to scrap everything and start anew with a whole nother topic, so there was only one plausible and logical conclusion to draw:

get more coffee and force your brain cells to work.

standing up from your spot, senses tuned into the stillness of the library, you noticed something. or lack thereof. no typing noise anymore that had accompanied you for hours on end; the seat in front of the man’s laptop empty, his notebooks still open on the table, though no cup on the empty coaster.

as you walked by with your empty mug and passed the little area that his pens and his dispersed papers claimed as his for the time being, you let your eyes flit over his screen. walls of paragraphs comparing two different works of literature on one half of his desktop, another document open with several similarities and differences listed on the other half.

“japanese lit, huh?” you mumbled to yourself, tired eyes straying away from his possessions and your feet automatically carried you to the coffee machine at the entrance of the library that the students of various classes had invested in to aid them during their emotional breakdowns…uh, quest to finish their essays and assignments in time.

zoning out, gripping your mug in one hand, you barely recognised the familiar movement of a person occupying the space in front of you out of the periphery of your eyes as you neared the coffee machine, so you only came back to reality when your nose was suddenly squished against a warm barrier that smelled like cappuccino and old books.

“easy,” a deeper voice than yours called out close to your head, one hand having already come up to steady you when you lost your balance. his hand was warm against your back, the heat seeping through the layers of your woolen turtleneck, and for a second you both occupied the same space, the only sound the ticking of the clock.

“oh, sorry,” your response was automatic, sheepish and you stepped back, “i probably saw you but my brain didn’t work quick enough to actually see you.”

your gaze found the missing person whose laptop you snooped through (did it count as snooping if you only quickly looked at the screen enough to see what he was working on? you didn’t even touch anything, promise), and this time you could see his eyes, unhindered by any light reflection.

pretty, you thought off-handedly, really pretty eyes.

“no stress,” one shoulder heaved up, and when his fingers stopped supporting you once he saw you didn’t need his help anymore, your back felt weirdly cool. it was nice having felt the heat of his arm around your body in the absence of any human contact in the face of studying.

he filled water into the reservoir of the coffee machine, a cup of beans already measured from before you walked into him. you cleared your throat and nodded in thanks; he bowed his head quickly, waving off your thank you, his hand nudging up his glasses perched on his nose when they threatened to slide down.

they were a bit big, but the earnest look of the dark blue eyes accompanying them made them all the more alluring; like they caged a ton of unsaid thoughts behind them, like there was so much those eyes wanted to tell but they had to get through the barrier of the glasses first.

a transparent mask to hide behind.

“sooo, how’s the coffee?” you asked to fill the silence when your eyes met again, looking away just as quickly, because you hadn’t expected that his sharp pupils found you the same way your eyes found his. stupid question, to be honest, when the coffee machine whirred in answer, and there was a slight smile playing on his lips.

“i don’t know yet,” he held up his opened thermos cup to show you the lack of liquid that he could not judge on yet, and your cheeks flared up at the obvious demonstration, mumbling quietly to yourself, thinking that the coffee machine was too loud for him to understand: “sorry, that was…an incredibly stupid question.”

“you’re okay,” his quiet and steady voice came back to meet your ears, held back amusement lingering in the folds of his tenor. he heard you just fine, “though probably just like bitter water.”

leaning back against the wall, he joined you in waiting, and then there was comfortable silence between you both. he was close enough to feel the air warm up, close that if you glanced up again, you could see his lashes brush his cheek as he closed his eyes for a quick reprieve, the curls of his hair, messy and falling over his ears, his lips sitting together calmly, sometimes twisting when he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

you looked away again, to the coffee machine that went from grinding the coffee beans to finally pouring the hot water through it and dripping into the pot. you thought you recognised him from somewhere, this boy with the gentle, kind eyes and the charming glasses. you couldn’t help but steal another glance at him, trying to gauge where from, whether you had met him on campus before.

“i can feel you staring.”

whirling your head away from his still closed eyes and the fingers messing with his hair, you felt embarrassment brewing within your chest alongside the coffee in front of you. stupid, stupid.

“sorry.”

“don’t be. i don’t mind,” he said, still the same reserved amusement hiding behind his words, and then he did open his eyes to turn to you, and you returned the favour of looking over him again. your gazes met for a split second, dead-on, before they parted again to look at other features, “you’re in professor yoshida’s class, right?”

“right! that’s where i know you from,” recognition finally bloomed, and you tested out the name that was continuously popping up in your mind during the short wait, wondering whether it was him, “akaashi keiji, right? you looked familiar.”

akaashi opened his mouth to respond, but halted for a split second; his cheeks and ears using this one moment to turn into a soft pink. when he caught himself and talked, you had an inkling that he meant to say something completely different: “yeah, exactly. what are you working on?”

“cultural studies. incredibly boring.”

“japanese lit,” he nodded in sympathy, then moved to pour coffee into both of your cups. you wanted to thank him, take the cup yourself and move, but he beat you to it. reflexes sharp and swift movement, he maneuvered around you easily to carry both of your coffee mugs back to the table you both shared.

“thank you,” you said at last, seated away from him at your own laptop with the steaming cup warming your hands, the same old words on the screen staring back at you, and he responded in likes; his voice comfortable and easy, deep and as warm as the drink in your hand, “of course.”

both of you continued working, though amongst the clicking of keyboard keys and the silent breathing were the little glances both of you threw at the other now that there was some common ground found. when you got stuck with how to phrase a certain sentence, chin supported on your hand, your eyes wandered to him out of their own volition and instinctually, and you watched him focus on his work.

the way his teeth would not stay still, constantly picking on his lips, his fingers rubbing his chin when he thought; the light warming up his face and making it seem like his hair was draped over him like a dark curtain.

then you’d attend to your work again, and it was akaashi’s turn to let his eyes and mind wander over to you to watch you get stuck with another paragraph, biting your nail while the other hand was tapping on the keys lightly without pressing too hard, eyes intently focused on the words.

you had an intense look in your eyes, and everytime, there were little butterflies erupting behind his ribcage when he felt you dedicate it to him.

those moments in between, when both of your eyes passed the others, belonged to nobody but the empty library. moments, in which you allowed yourselves to bask in the heat of fading instances, of arcane glances, interrupted by little sighs here and there or random occurrences, in which you both just couldn’t help but talk to each other:

“i’m jealous of your concentration,” you groaned at some point, allowing your forehead to thump onto your arm to bury your face away from the screen and its cruel, glaring light, “you look like you’re about to solve all the problems in this world.”

akaashi had stilled in his work, startled, eyes glancing up over the rim of his glasses up to you, and his teeth finally let go of his poor, swollen lower lip; mouth curling into a small embarrassed smile, “not quite. but i may be able to help you with yours, if that’s a start.”

you laughed at yourself for the strange thump your heart produced, hand waving him off, “sweet of you, but i just need some of that laser focus you’ve got.”

“sending you some.”

pretending to catch the energy he threw your way, you perked up in your seat and flashed him a grin, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“oh fu— shit.”

he was already beside you with napkins, big hands dabbing up the spilled lukewarm coffee as you worked to put away your electronics and books lest they’d get ruined by the deep brown liquid. he was close, leaning over you, hands working fast and precise, feeling his chest bump against your shoulders ever so slightly. your body warmed up at the contact, and you had to try not to lose your mind over that.

“ugh, i swear this is not my usual.”

“i’ll believe you when i see you prove the opposite to me,” he said quietly, a certain openness in his voice, a silent offer to spend many more moments together like this.

you looked up at him, a smile stealing itself on your lips, “i suppose if you’re asking to be humiliated and be proven wrong, then i won’t say no.”

the skin underneath akaashi’s glasses had warmed up, and as he went back to his seat, he had stuttered back, “that’s— i didn’t— nobody said anything about humiliation! also, you’re the one who barely escaped electronic and academic death. gotta tone down the murderous intent a little.”

“never. every essay is my arch-nemesis, so they got what was coming for them.”

akaashi had shook his head, and laughed quietly to himself; the sound as honeyed as your favourite dessert.

when he returned from his bathroom break later on, he brought you back a new cup of coffee, anyway, despite his fear of you murdering your hard effort of having added only three extra paragraphs to your text in all the time (you were a little busy staring at akaashi keiji’s pretty eyes; nobody was allowed to judge your slow pace).

you fell back with a big oohmpf and a yelp.

dazed, you looked up at the ceiling, the low warm light of the library in the midst of the dark outside looking enticing enough to fall asleep right there. you stayed on the ground for a second, most of your fall cushioned by the chair, though your butt still throbbed with the impact.

“hey,” a couple steps resonated before a messy head of curls peeked over you, one hand holding the glasses in place, while the other was reaching towards you to help you up, “you alright?”

“y-yeah,” you sat up, shaking your head a bit to clear it from the zoning out you were doing before gravity decided to take you down, “i suppose that’s why teachers always say not to rock your chair back and forth.”

suppressed laughter, mild concern, and a warm hand engulfing you, “what a delinquent. i bet the teachers loved you.”

“hey! what’s that supposed to mean? they loved me! incredibly so!”

“okay. i think i need help.”

“of course, what do you need?”

“do you understand what i’m trying to convey when i phrase it like that? ugh, i’m scared it’s too convoluted.”

“give me a second,” he finished up his sentence, then came over, “let me see.”

his chest pressed against the back of your (now upright) chair as he leaned over you to read your run-on sentence was distracting you. he wasn’t touching you per se, but the placement of his hands on the arms of the chair could cage you in, make you feel like he was embracing you from behind, so much taller than you. the warmth emitting from behind you made you want to fall asleep and let your head land in the crook of his neck.

he was breathing softly, the air caressing your hair, and when he reached out to point at your words, your eyes followed the red knuckles, his clean nails and the size of his hands.

“you mean that the west created orientalism as a cultural and intellectual framework, right?” — a quick nod of yours — “alright, then i think if you cut this in two sentences, for one to showcase the interpretation of the east and then dive deeper into the colonisation in the next sentence — that would make it more understandable. say, am i making you nervous?”

blinking, “w—what? where did that come from?”

he leaned down slightly, face hovering next to yours, his voice slightly raw and close to your earshell, “don’t forget to breathe. also, you have a typo — row three, the fourteenth word.”

“evil,” your breathing was clipped from the insinuation that he may have had an effect on you, heart pumping blood through your body like crazy as if it was held at gunpoint, “i bet the teachers really disliked you.”

despite that, you brought him a cup of coffee when you returned from your bathroom break, too.

“you alright, akaashi?” you asked.

akaashi keiji looked up, his hand rubbing his neck, kneading the knots out of his tense shoulders. his eyes, until just short of when you called him, had been glazing over, a little bit of a vacant look entering the blue of his eyes, but when you called his name, he had snapped out of it, and his features relaxed slightly, away from his troublesome thoughts. his dark brows furrowed deeply above his eyes.

“yeah, just thinking about all the deadlines coming up. it’s…” he sighed, allowing his shoulders to sink, and he leaned back in the uncomfortable library chairs; another big sigh escaping him, “...a lot.”

“yeah,” you agreed and stood up, walking over to him. his surprised gaze followed you, and when you stood right next to him with his head tilted back, the wavy strands of hair following gravity, looking up at you with those eyes, you felt a tug in your chest that told you to kiss him. you didn’t.

instead, you nodded to the window, “let’s take a walk and a breather,” and then, because you couldn’t help yourself, “a zeugma. get it, mr. japanese literature?”

his shoulders stayed relaxed, and he laughed again; a brilliant smile on his lips and you thought of how you wanted to kiss him even more. his eyes felt lighter, too, when he pushed back his chair and stood up, body entirely too close for what probably should have been appropriate for two students who had only properly met today for the first time. or was it already the next day?

but neither of you moved for a second, drinking in the presence of each other, before he grabbed his jacket off his backrest, “i think you can do better.”

“well, i think it was pretty good.”

akaashi shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes, competing with the sparkle of the glasses when he turned and the light hit him just right, “and i think i have you beat there.”

you grumbled but caught up to him nonetheless.

it was cold outside.

the kind that slithered through between the folds of your clothing to nestle deep in the crevices of your soul. the kind that had you shuddering and sending remnants of cannons into the air with every breath, the moisture immediately misting up.

akaashi keiji was walking next to you, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, though his exhales were shaky too, chest trembling with compressed and suppressed shivers. you were already as close to him for warmth as possible without being weird or too straight-forward, though you wish you could just cling to his arm — it was that icy.

“i feel like i can’t even think,” you mumbled, already feeling your lips starting to numb, the tip of your nose burning.

“me neither, but maybe that’s a good thing,” he breathed out, the warm air blowing past your temple, and his cheeks were so pink, it was cute, “sometimes it’s all too stressful, and i wish i could turn off my brain.”

“does that happen a lot?”

you referred to the way his face looked like there was a headache incoming, how his fingers froze and his shoulders locked in; the way he seemed to absolutely crumble under the prospect of the things he needed to do and that awaited him.

akaashi had an embarrassed smile on his face, shoulders drawn up for some warmth, the fuzziness of his jacket’s hood surrounding his reddening cheeks, “sometimes. there’s a lot of expectations riding on passing my classes. not just passing them, but passing them well.”

“by whom?” you leaned forward; curious eyes trying to catch his, “expectations set by the profs or by yourself?”

he stared at you, and his lips were slightly open; with every exhale, condensation snaked up the air like smoke, dissolving in the cold atmosphere all around you, though the air between you was slightly warm. his eyes looked kind and vulnerable for a second, “what a callout. guess i can’t even pretend that it’s not me, huh? you caught me.”

“not yet, i didn’t,” you dared say, and he stopped walking, even though it was colder to stay still than to move. you stopped, too. a snowflake floated between you, landing on his pink nose, melting at the warmth.

the entire evening long — ever since you had bumped into him making coffee and you both went from studying alone to studying together, little jokes and jibes passing between you, curiosity and interest swapping between you with every glance, solitary and shared, you felt there was maybe a chance for something more. not necessarily all the way if it didn’t work out, but more to explore, more of him and you to meet.

“what does that mean, miss cultural studies?”

you blinked up at him, “i don’t know, mr. japanese literature. you’re the one who reads between the lines of books and analyses everything.”

“i’m not that far into my course,” he told you, seriously, and for a second you almost believed him, but then his eyes crinkled as he hid his smile behind the fluff of his jacket, and you pulled out one of your hands from the pockets of your coat to lightly pull his ear, not enough to cause pain but enough to chide him.

“you liar,” you said with no malice, voice soft and as your hand trailed down to hide your fingers in warmth again, his hand, fast as ever, pulled out of his own jacket, grabbed yours and stuffed both your hands in his pocket instead.

incredibly warm, fingers locked between each other, soft skin kissing yours, “let’s go, it’s too cold.”

sometime around 2 am in the morning, you decided that you were going to fall asleep right then and there. sadly, coffee barely had an effect on your body anymore after having put your body through caffeine abuse for so long.

during the hours of studying together, one of you moved closer to the other, so both of your books and notes were strewn together, sharing a space. his thermos cup stood next to a bunch of other cups both of you had drunk out of, because you kept forgetting to take the mug you were using with you and were forced to bring new ones.

scrutinising a well-read book in the dim light, you ask, “is this mine?”

“unless you want to take home a copy of the setting sun with you and dissect the theme of youth in crisis, then i’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“ugh, i can’t even read anything anymore,” a beat of sly silence, “or you know, maybe i do want to. then i’ll have an excuse to see you again.”

“or,” akaashi butted in and gently offered you his phone, his smile straightforward yet a shy edge sweetening it up, “you can give me your number and we’ll meet up for another study session when you’re available. how’s that sound?”

in lieu of an answer, you saved your contact in his phone; your fingers caressing his under pretense of giving it back to him, and his movement was delayed, allowing the contact between you two to linger for a moment more.

“i’ll walk you back.”

“it’s not that far, so you don’t have to. it’s cold, too.”

akaashi sent you a look that very much told you he did not care how cold it was, there was no way he would let you walk alone at night. and when he did, your hands were buried in his pocket again.

the world was quiet and still, as if you were caught up in another plane of existence for the past hours. a limbo of sleepy nature, perpetually falling snowflakes, the constant of the warmth akaashi offered, the bumping of arms as you walked in silence, subtly pulling him either to the left or the right when you needed to change the path.

“when is your assignment due?” you asked, lips barely moving from the cold, so you had to hiss out the words, barely understandable.

“four days ‘til friday. yours?”

“monday.”

another shaky exhale, the tremble evident in your shoulders, and you opted to walk a bit faster, even though you didn’t want to part with him yet. but cold was cold, and you would like to keep your toes still alive and kicking. so, it was no wonder that you arrived at your dormitory relatively fast, though even then, both of you stood in front of the entrance, not ready to say goodbye yet, not ready to leave the world of the dead and wake up the next day to greet the same usual bullshit.

“meet me tomorrow,” he said with blue lips and red cheeks.

“okay,” you responded, heart fluttering when he didn’t let go of your hand. instead he took a step back and you were forced to follow, because you didn’t let go of his hand, either.

one step, another, a third one, then the tentative meeting of cold mouths. his breath was warm, his tongue warmer, and gradually your lips returned to their soft, mellow state. kissing him felt gentle, it felt safe and it felt like you could sink into him, like awaiting and catching you was a giant cloud that kept you floating up.

he kissed like he was a romantic. like he lived and breathed words meant for you, with the dedication and attention to detail only a writer or an artist could have, every stroke, every painted image on paper. he kissed like he had known you for a long time and intended to know you for even longer.

when you both parted, your lashes were brushing the rim of his glasses and your nose caressing his cheek, lips only inches away so it was only natural to kiss him again.

“see you,” he let go of your hand at last.

later, an unknown number texted you, and you thought yourself corny, but you couldn’t help the smile that overtook your features at the cheesy line akaashi keiji thought he had you beat with:

from: +81 3 1762-3468 i left my other book and also my heart with you

and then:

from: +81 3 1762-3468 i really do need the book though, bring it tomorrow please :( goodnight x

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yourwonderful · 4 months ago

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Cute and wholesome headcanons

Since Devlin and Kearno both like ships and devlin can draw, kearno asks devlin to draw her pictures of ships all the time that she hangs in her room. She jumps up and down while he draws it.

Devlin always tries to be there for kearno due to his own father not being there for him. He wants to make sure kearno never doubts on how much he loves her.

I feel like albus gives faithful and his friends small personal gifts for no reason, and if he doesn't give personal gifts, he gives gifts that have personal meanings.

An example is when albus gave faithful money as a thanks for the orphanage faithful he wanted to add to since he knows how much it means to her.

I feel like albus can read expressions very well. I don't know why.

When Pandora has a nightmare, they often go to tyrs room. I also believe Tyr stays up really late, so when they go into his room, he's always awake. Tyr comforts Pandora and allows Pandora to sit on his shoulder or his desk as he works.

Hipswitch often listens to the BvZ crew if they need someone to talk. Along with mahatma and he always gives the best advice

Makkaro is definitely an amazing singer due to his father teaching him how to sing. So I just imagine makkaro getting distracted when he's cooking to sing. His darling often finds him singing and laughs every time because they think it's absolutely adorable and cheesy. They probably love doing duets together.

ZEDBUS SHIP HEADCANON Albus x Zedithore

Albus often has zed sit in his lap and read a book. Albus has no idea what the book even says or is about, but he just loves Zeds' voice and his small little mannerisms and habits while reading.

I feel like Yargwyn loved teasing and bothering mortellous by leaving his door open when he leaves or poking him repeatedly. I also feel like Yargwyn is the only person who mortellous wants to share his hobbies with and has given him thousands of gifts because of it, all of which Yargwyn has kept.

Zed has thousands of notes about whatever he's reading about that are sticky noted into that page or written into a notebook. He will ramble about whatever he's interested in.

DEMONBONES SHIP HEADCANONS Albus x Makkaro

Makkaro gets very worried when Albus goes to work. He knows albus can take care of himself, and he's immortal, but he's still incredibly worried when he leaves. I also believe when makkaro states that he wants to know everything little thing about albus, albus gets flustered and very anxious due to him being suprised that makkaro wants to get to know about his personality and his interests but he also doesn't want to share his past. This was so long XD

DEMONDOCTER Mahatma x Albus ship made by iincongneeto

Albus often has nightmares and wakes up from them a lot in the middle of the night. Most of the time, Albus will never speak of what the nightmare is about to mahatma, but he will allow mahatma to comfort him. He often snuggles into mahatma lap or just lets mahatma hold him because he knows he's safe with him. When Albus talks about his nightmares (probably won't be much, but it's a lot to even mention for albus), mahatma will listen to albus from start to finish and will give some advice and reassuring words to comfort his seductive but yet gold hearted incubus boyfriend. I'm also sorry for how long this one is too 😭😅

#good boy audios #bastard warrior #bastard vs zombies #albus york #gba makkaro #gba hipswitch #gba devlin #gba tyr

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andre-and-cal · 2 months ago

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me when I want some.........pup headcanons....STOPP it can BE SO SHORT or actual request what would caldre do on a date heh.......

Finally getting to overdue requests !! ^_^

Also uh my headcanons r too long so I’ll try to make them shorter from now on so they’re easier to read HELP SORRY I be #yapping too much

Andre and Cal on a date,,

Most of the time, they don’t really call it a date— they don’t even acknowledge their relationship as dating. They say they love each other, call each other affectionate names in private, but they never made it official that they are a thing, even though they behave how couples do. They kiss, cuddle, fuck, do stuff together, argue, fight…

When they do say “date”, it’s mainly Cal who brings up if Andre wants to “go on a date” with him. However, they tend to prefer directly asking each other to go somewhere private. Especially Andre.

Admittedly, toward the beginning of their romantic companionship, they both felt too insecure about bringing up going on “dates” with each other. So eventually, Cal was the first one to ask Andre straight-up, having to fight back against his social apprehension. To which, Andre accepted. He generally is always up to going on tender outings with Cal unless his parents or cousin need him for something at that time.

Now, Andre no longer feels as awkward as he did before. A lot of the times he just expects Cal to bring up going out together. He’s a pretty laid back guy when it comes to that, not minding whenever Cal requests it, as long as it isn’t on one of their mission days. As a result, Cal is usually the one to initiate plans for outings together. In a way, it’s kind of like a routine.

Andre and Cal nearly always go to quiet places. They prefer less chaotic, more undisturbed atmospheres, mostly because they both get annoyed when too many people are around them or crowding them, so they don’t attend concerts too often. They aren’t very fond of parties either, but will go under difference circumstances. Not that they’d be invited to their classmates’ parties anyway.

Generally, Andre and Cal like to go out to the movies together. But they don’t kiss during the movie. Instead, they laugh at different scenes together, especially if it’s some campy, low-budget horror movie. Cal occasionally tries to sneak edibles into the movie theater, but Andre always makes him put it away, quietly scolding him about his carelessness toward getting high in public. During the movie, Andre tends to pat Cal’s thigh or knee, and Cal likes to place his hand over Andre’s hand or knee— even lean his head on his shoulder. You best believe they’re sharing a big bag of popcorn or candy, too.

Sometimes they’ll hang around at empty parking lots as well. Despite the blatantly unsettling vibes present with the dim streetlights being the only sources of light in the parking lot, with both boys being aware that the setting is like “something straight out of a horror movie”, the melancholic solitude of the late-night vacant buildings still draws the two in. However, Andre and Cal refuse to get out of Andre’s car, since he carries pocket knives in his car’s front compartment just in case LMAO. They’ll sit and get comfortable, maybe talk for a while, with their hands tightly locked together.

They’ll even just drive around town in Andre’s car aimlessly, listening to music on the radio and getting some snacks and slushies at the gas station, so their tongues will be purple by the end of the night. ;3

And they also like to head to the CD store to both seriously purchase music, and individually— yet jokingly— get pornographic movies. It was Cal’s idea initially, and now it became kind of like a stupid “game” where they both gauge each other’s reactions when they put it on.

Andre and Cal do enjoy spending time together when they can. I think it’s also worth mentioning that they leave their camcorder behind, so that they can stay in the moment, essentially. Their outings can serve as simple— yet temporary— distractions from their Zero Day plans.

#zero day #andre kriegman #cal gabriel #calvin gabriel #zero day 2003 #zero day movie #caldre #calvin and andre #andre and cal #cal and andre #army of two #zero day cal #cal zero day #andre zero day #zero day andre #ben coccio

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zagreusbutgayer · 1 month ago

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Some old outfit sketches from the first few chapters! Feels like a decade since I drew these, but these were the basis for the finished 'Baratheon Brides' piece!

Cersei's wedding dress was largely based off of Sansa's as it was the only real example I could find of women's fashion that carried over the little capped sleeves the Lannister men tend to have, then of course coupled with the gold 'armour' bodice she wears during the Blackwater, since I felt it was a good twist of irony that she'd wear it both times she 'faces' Stannis.

Also, though we are told (and logic demands) that her wedding outfit is the one she prepared for marrying Robert, I like to think she added the rubies (and possibly even the metal bodice) somewhat last minute, as an extra fuck you to Stannis, since all the gold wasn't quite bloody/vicious enough for her.

Her 'setting sail' outfit was one of the rare cases I actually wrote a description for it first, then based the sketch off of that, instead of the other way around, but basically came from just looking at the extravagant matching mother-son capes she and Joffrey wear in Baelor, and thinking that the way that could fold around her bump would be cute, and a 'hey LOOK im PREGNANT' move that she'd definitely go for as part of her 'showing off how successful we are' departure. To that end, she's also incorporated a good bit more red for the bite of it, but is still sticking to primarily golds for unity with Stannis.

Ignore the weird off-centredness, but these were the first sketches of both our main Hightower ladies. Grey/silver is an underutilised Hightower colour (all thanks to that one really good green dress Alicent wore that one time) so I really wanted to bring attention to it, while also highlighting the differences between the two. Malora's is very drab, darker (to match her hair), and she can sort of 'hide' behind her sleeves if she really needs to, where Lynesse's is showy as it possibly can be without fully 'giving the game away'. The opposing flame colours also of course come into play, the first early sign of division amongst Leyton's many spawn.

They also both have the 'turret' motif, though incorporated in different ways, intended to reference the actual Hightower itself! A tower is a lot harder of a 'pattern' to put onto clothes compared to lions and roses etc, so you can bet every single Hightower I ever draw now is going to have it (it was also vaguely inspired by the dark blue dress Alicent wears in s1e2, where the 'rungs' of the sleeves made me think of a chequery-turret pattern being a recurring staple of Hightower fashion)

And the finished piece! Malora's sleeves ended up getting changed, I think because it was either muddying the silhouette of her skirt, or because I'd cut out her necklace and wanted to still show the amber ring on her finger; plus I generally use those slit poofy sleeves (snow white sleeves, as i always think of them) as an indicator of 'Reach' fashion, since they pop up in Loras's wardrobe a few times.

Cersei's veil also didn't make it, mostly because her curls were just TOO bodacious for me to work out the physics of it; the same reason that she has a different style of cape to Malora's! Her curls are just that defined that they actually define everything around them too.

And on the topic of her curls---

Bonus: this very quick sketch I did for a modern au I'm working on!

The specific fic this is derived from is a long way off from seeing the light of day (the main modern au I'm working on would be a one-shot set fairly late into their marriage, whereas this comes from during their dating era) but I love her energy and this DRESS too much not to share it. I imagine this is several clubs in, and her curls are SUFFERING from the humidity and dancing of it all, but every other part of her is impossibly yet steadfastly flawless (including the belly button piercing Tywin definitely doesn't know she has, which she probably conned a piercer into giving her when she was like 15)

(ranna does the exact same thing except robert definitely pays for her to have it done, because she can talk him into literally anything with very minimal effort)

(cersei is not as oblivious to this as tywin was, though she DEFINITELY curses robert out for it while letting ranna think she's gotten away with it)

(anyway psa: cersei in green > hightowers in green)

#asoiaf #asoiaf fanart #digital fanart #cersei lannister #a song of ice and fire #alternate universe #fanart #modern au

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myokk · 3 months ago

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1, 13, 16, 20 any and/or all for Eloise 😇

Hi!!!🫶🫶🫶

(sorry I’m so late to this bahahahahahahhahaah…December is a CRAZY month😆) I’ll put the answers under the cut bc I am a yapper🤭 AND THERE IS *A LOT* OF ART & WIPS & TALKING🤭🫶

1) What was the original thought that led to the creation of this character?

This is a good question😭 I think of Eloise as separate from the girl I played in the game, AND separate from the MC in general bc I completely changed ancient magic & the whole storyline to something more interesting to me. As I was playing the game, though, I was SO INTENSELY CURIOUS about what their backstory could be - why were they starting 5th year? Were they a squib? What about their family?

I honestly LOVE that the game is so open-ended about this, because it allowed me to find a way to place Eloise in with canon lore (her mom is actually mentioned by Sirius in the books🤭) AND (this hasn’t been revealed yet) give a conceivable reason as to why the Babbits are not in the Sacred 28 when the list is created.

I’m also FASCINATED by thinking of pureblood society & the Black family in general (Sirius/Bellatrix are my favorite characters & BOTH heavily influence how I think of Eloise) & I have so much fun MAKING ALL OF THIS UP !!!!!!!!!! I LOVE thinking of different traditions/ways that old pagan traditions can be corrupted by the purebloods trying to hold onto their legacy…how the purebloods navigate society and the world in VERY subtle interactions etc etc ETC !!!!! I could literally make a whole post on all of these headcanons I’ve made up about the universe my fic takes place in😆😆😆

13) Do you have a voice claim for the character? What do you imagine the character sounds like?

Honestly NO😭 I think of her voice as very sweet but honestly it just kind of sounds like mine since I go into her mind so much as I write🤔 if anyone has any voice claims or ideas LMK !!!!

16) Is there any memes or running jokes associated with the character, both in- and out of universe?

ELOISE HATES WEARING PANTS AND SHE HATES QUIDDITCH😤😤😤😤😤😤😤😤 she HATE WATCHES every single quidditch match just to make sure Sebastian doesn’t get hurt…BUT she drags Ominis with her and tells him to let her know if anything happens bc she can’t bear to watch🤔 Sebastian is always getting himself hurt on purpose in Crossed Wands & even quidditch in the hopes that Eloise will come over🤭 bc she always insists on the muggle way…(everyone thinks they’re weird)

Another thing that I think is HILARIOUS is that as a design choice I just gave her a braid bc a) I think it’s cute & b) it’s a way to tame her crazy crazy crazy hair & c) so I don’t have to draw her hair down. BUT every time we talk about mc interactions everyone wants Eloise to show them how to braid their hair…SHE has to demonstrate though bc there is no way anyone that isn’t her could tame her own hair😫

20) Bonus question: share any additional thoughts, art, favorite scenes, anything you’ve been waiting for a chance to ramble about.

DAMN DANI YOU WANTED TO UNLEASH MY INNER YAPPER…🤭🤭🤭

I REALLY want to talk about everything I’m working towards in my fic but🤐 I can’t spoil things for my 2 readers…SO…

Here’s a wip of my 70s au…the strangest crossover ever bc Sebastian and Sirius are getting high AF🤭😶‍🌫️ I haven’t decided if eloise is going to hate Sebastian, or if they’re going to be making out within 30 min of meeting🤔😇 now you can all see my terrible sketches…that turn into messy art😆

#it’s been so long thst I guess now I will repeat some questions😆 and I don’t realize…#bc I KNOW I’ve answered some of these before🤔 I got so many asks this time around & I still have one more🫶🫶#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!!!!!#even if nobody reads these (I can’t blame them😆😆) I always have a LOT OF FUN answering!!!!#& it’s fun to add some pictures too🫶🫶🫶#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #hphl #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #eloise babbit #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanart #sebastian sallow x mc #ask

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fanon-elio · 2 months ago

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Ya'll just know imma write for him when he releases.

So, there is this new open world gacha game that's currently in beta testing. Neverness to Everness

And they have a lot of stunning characters, but one character captured my interesst in peticular.

being this dude right here.

He feels like a mixture of both Lycaon and Gallagher, and I'm here for it honestly.

This might also just be me coping, cuz I still haven't gotten over Gallagher's death 😭

When I look at him, I just immediately think Police officer or Body guard or something.

And honestly I'm hoping for that, cuz I love men and woman in uniform.

One of the big reasons why I believe he might be a Police officer / Body Guard is due to the guns in their holsters on his Design that he, funnily enough, doesn't even use in battle.

His weapon if choice is actually his Shadow which I find very creative. It does make sense since as far as I know his name is Skia, which means Shadow in greek.

The undone tie around his neck, makes me assume that he's gonna be a bit more like Gallagher when it comes to appearence and perhaps personality (even though we know literally nothing yet)

Also, sorry for the horrible quality of the gifs (-.-')

He's still very dapper dude though. When I first saw him, I immediately sat down to draw him. (Even though the colors might be wrong but ya'll know the drift by this point) Also because I'm currently trying to wrap my head around lighting and color theory. If you have any tips that can help me improve, do share them with me, I'd greatly appreciate it.

Yes, I am aware that some details in the drawings are wrong, but when I realized it had already been too late. 🤷‍♂️ Certainly a very interessting concept, and ya'll just know that I'm gonna write for him as soon as we know more about his Character, Lore and Personality.

Alright, that's all for now.

I'll upload something in the following days after all of the holiday stuff is out of the way.

I also wish everyone a happy late Christmas.

Btw Here is the Tiktok from which I used the videos of his gameplay.

Stay safe everyone.

-Elio

#furry #furry art #neverness to everness #werewolf x you #werewolf x reader #werewolf

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thetriggeredhappy · 4 months ago

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where i’m like, at, creatively

like what's my dealllllll

so i’ve noticed a pretty big uptick in new people around here lately and i wanted to cover a few bases since i’m realizing it’s been a pretty long time since i had a fireside chat with the room. this is for a few reasons - first of all, i don’tttttt like talking about myself! i feel like sometimes notes on what’s up with me and how i’m doing can come across as invitations to talk a lot about my personal life, and i’m not really here to get into it. i really do prefer the anonymity of the stuff i do here. not a ton of people i know in real life have any idea at all what i do creatively, and inversely not many people who know me for my writing or whatever know anything about my real life. love that separation! big fan of it! that’s why i go by the alias Trigger, don’t have very many mentions of any facet of my identity, my location, don’t even really have my general age listed (i’m an adult, that’s all i’m comfortable sharing). i’m not, uh. a very confident person i guess? but with that said, i’m fine with talking about broad strokes stuff, and with talking about the stuff i make. so let’s go over it!

i’m not really known on here for anything beyond my writing, but i actually do various different creative stuff. i make music, i draw, i paint, i know a few instruments, i sew and make props, i’m a chef (like. professionally. that’s my job in real life. like, i’m my boss and i just answer to the owner of the restaurant. i made my menu. we’re actually expanding it at the moment). my fanwork is definitely a passion of mine, i love doing character analysis and riffing with other people and collaborative work, that kind of thing, but i also do like. a lot of original work.

“I KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING DONT CANCEL TAKING SHOTS—“ i’m not. i’m fully not. taking shots is just gonna be well over 150k words by the end of it and i’m running the marathon, not the sprint. that’s gonna continue to publish slowly over time. that’s not where i’m going with this. i have an outline, i know the plot, i just have to write the scenes and paint the spaces between the bigger arc of it and figure out the points between A and Z, and that’s going to take a while. if that means that fic is done in fuckin 2030, so be it.

my problem here is twofold. first of all, i have what the doctors call “a chronic depressive disorder” and “the good old neurodivergence that means you’re a perfectionist and also incapable of starting things”. there’s a part of me that really wants to ‘just’ hammer out Taking Shots and wrap it all up and do the damn thing and wipe off my hands and take a bow or ten before i move on, but i’m aware that my internal motivation issues are going to make that task take an incredibly long time. the second part of the problem is that i’m going to feel intense guilt pretty much all of the time if i split my attention between an original work and the fanwork i’ve already started, because in my mind, i’d be doing a half-measure of both of them rather than a sufficiently good job of either.

i know that doesn’t make sense, probably because it doesn’t. but honestly, for a longass time, me wanting so bad to start making my original work A Thing I Do, yet feeling bad for not instead doing more of my fanwork (which i know people really enjoy), has just been putting the pole through the spokes of the wheels on both of those projects.

so i’m biting the bullet. fuckin’ whatever.

Taking Shots is going to continue to keep its irregular infrequent schedule - i generally write more Taking Shots whenever i get really really annoyed with myself that i haven’t written more Taking Shots. in the meantime, i’m also going to start making and posting more about my original work.

i’m making a comic.

it has a title, i’ve scripted a ton of it, i have the plot and characters and worldbuilding and development, i know how it begins and what happens and how it ends. i started working on the story and the world around 2016, and i’m pretty happy with it. it’s going to take years to make the entire thing, as it’s going to be hundreds of pages per arc and a number of arcs in totality, and i plan to post pages as i go, maybe individually, maybe in small batches. it’s a fantasy setting, what with the elfs ‘n legally distinct hobbitses ‘n shit, adventure comedy, character driven narrative. i’ve made a separate blog to house it, and here soon the plan is to start showing off what i’ve already got, whatever isn’t spoilers, break out the title and some of the pages. my plan, eventually (and i mean EVENTUALLY) is to open a patreon or whatever the thing is by the time i get there. i’d fuckin’ love to just, like, make art and stuff full time, but realistically, i do need to hold down a real job for a while, even assuming i can make a living on art. i don’t have anyone to support me financially, so that does need to come first.

my artfight victims and opponents (my beloved) have already met a bunch of the characters, and some of you who have been around for a while probably also know about them. it’s not a secret or anything. i just don’t want to lean on the crutch of like, building a brand and hype for characters before i make the media. i don’t like stuff like that. you’ll see it as you see it. i love talking about my process and thoughts while making things and about character writing, and i’m open to questions or conversations about the comic and the characters, but like, i’m probably not gonna open with “and here’s the plot outline”. that’s a lot.

i want to be transparent now rather than later that no matter what i do, including making a patreon (or whatever), fanwork of any kind won’t be housed there. this doesn’t mean i’m giving up my fan stuff or that it’s dropping down the list as a priority. that hat is being hung up someday, maybe, but Taking Shots ends either when i’ve written all of it or when i’m dead in the fucking ground. this is partially because of, y’know, legality, because you really aren’t allowed to profit off of fan writing in the same way you might on fanart or whatever, but even if i was legally allowed to i wouldn’t necessarily want to. i don’t like the idea of making any significant amount of money on fan content, i don’t ever want enjoying media to have monetary incentive for me. that sucks. fan stuff is an outlet for me and i don’t like the thought of profiting off of enthusiasm. that seems like it would get a little parasocial.

this is my main blog, i’m probably going to keep using it for fan stuff a lot, and most of my comic stuff is gonna go on the same blog as the actual pages, and i’ll probably make some kind of dedicated webpage for the comic as well, and at some point i’m gonna make an executive decision on where i want to host any q&a for the comic - probably here. i’m hoping that getting vocal about my original work stuff will help me, like… commit a little harder? i work on it way more frequently than my fan stuff, like it’s not even close, but there’s kind of this sense of “and it’ll happen someday”. maybe that someday could be, like, before the heat death of the universe. because it doesn’t need to take that long. i have so much done.

that’s the synopsis. if you’re interested in my music, that’s over here. i’m probably going to reblog some of the comic-related art onto here every once in a while, but i don’t plan on reblogging individual pages onto here or anything like that. thanks for the read! let me know what you guys think!

#shut up me #the fiendship tag #my art #my writing #afic #everybody talks #oh also that art i posted the other day isnt for afic it's for a d&d campaign with a friend of mine #i'll be reblogging this tomorrow once or twice to circulate and probably doing the same when i have some comic

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lostintransist · 1 month ago

Text

Secrets are for Grownups | Part 7

Part 1 can be found here. AO3

The knock at the door tensed all your muscles. Your fingers are interlaced and buried between your thighs to keep them from shaking.

The bus had left with your boys twenty minutes ago.

John had sat you in the middle seat below the wall of pictures. Larsen’s smiling face gave you comfort, knowing he would have your back had he lived. John sat to your right and Nyla had claimed the space to your left, flanking you, for everyone’s safety. Nyla patted a hand at your elbow before rising from the couch.

When she opens the door Johnny and Simon greet her with a kiss on the cheek and a nod respectfully to you. John stood and offered them a hug, the love they shared fierce even in the short gesture. They sit where directed. Johnny and Simon are thigh to thigh. Simon’s arm stretches along the breadth of Johnny’s shoulders, thumb stroking the side of his neck. Johnny reciprocated by settling a hand on Simon’s thigh. The prominent black band on his hand draws your gaze.

Only the hum of your really old refrigerator breaks the silence as they stare at you and you at them.

John looks from you to his men and back. With a sigh, he edges to the front of the couch and begins as if he were leading a mission briefing.

“The goal here is to come to an understanding regarding the boys. I have spoken with you all at length about this. The boys know about their fathers,” he nodded to the men before turning his gaze, “and you are willing to allow Simon and John time with them correct?”

The question is directed to you. Nodding, you swallow hard. He turned back to the men on the other couch.

“You would like to meet and develop a relationship with the boys, is that also correct?”

Johnny must tighten his hand on Simon’s thigh because Simon settles his free hand on top of his husband’s.

“We would like an opportunity to meet our boys,” Simon replied evenly.

Rage prickled at the back of your neck. Jace and Mac were not their boys, they were yours. Yours and Larsen’s. Squeezing your fingers tighter and staring at your lap allowed you a moment to breathe past the bile rising up your throat.

“What are you expecting this to look like?” John asks.

Unsure if he who he questioned you look up. Finding his eyes on the men sitting on the opposite couch you turn to look at them as well.

“We aren’t sure yet,” Johnny starts, gaze connecting with yours. “We would like to become a stable and consistent part of their lives. They are our sons.”

“Will you tell us about them?” Simon glances at you before looking down at his hand on Johnny’s. His band is the same dark metal as Johnny’s.

Your breath shudders in and out as everyone looks at you. John sinks back into the couch, eyes watchful. You look to him for something, guidance maybe. At his nod, you turn back to the men and start from the beginning. Nyla settles a hand on your back, soothing in the way it moves back and forth.

“Jace Riley was born first at a healthy seven pounds two ounces. Noah MacTavish followed within five minutes and came in at a decent six pounds five ounces. My late husband, Larsen, helped me pick their first names since I knew what their middle names would be when some genetic testing confirmed different fathers. " You rush on, expecting judgment. Everyone had an opinion on pregnancy. “My midwives were concerned about the vastly different gestational ages and referred me to a specialist. They also sent off the genetics to test for lots of things including for general origin of ancestry. When the information arrived it confirmed that the older baby, Jace, had mostly English DNA, and the smaller one, Noah, had English and Scottish DNA. I delayed submitting their birth certificates for as long as I could to confirm that their personalities and features lined up with what I expected.”

Johnny is fighting back tears, face turned and mouth scrunching and relaxing. Simon coughs into his hand before squeezing Johnny.

Running your tongue across the back of your teeth you allow them a moment.

“If it works for you I would like to invite you over sometime this week to meet them. It will be a low-pressure situation for them and for us. I won’t be making them call you anything but your names until they decide what to call you.” You pull your hands free of your thighs, letting the blood flow back into them. “They like legos if you want to bring a small set to build with them. "

Both men nod in agreement, you assume to both the scheduling and the toys. When they have collected themselves Johnny inches forward on the couch, elbows on his knees.

“Johnny,” Simon growls, as if warning him.

“No Simon. We deserve answers and I don’t want to ask when the boys are here,” he snapped at his husband—pinning you with his ice-fire blue eyes. “Why didn’t tell us when you found out? You still had John’s number. We deserved to be involved, to have a choice.”

“You made your choice, both of you. Anything that happened after you found exaltation is none of your business.” You can’t help but snarl at them, fingernails biting into your palm as you curl and uncurl your fingers.

Unable to remain seated you stand and take to pacing the space between the wall and the window.

John spoke up now.

“Can any of you tell me how this happened? How did I miss all of this going down?”

Despite the years and pain between, you, Simon, and Johnny share a moment of understanding as you all glance at one another.

You reply, feet slowing your frantic pacing.

“It started after your ex-wife asked for a divorce. The night Gaz invited everyone to the bar and you elected to stay back and drink alone in your office.”

John pinked and readjusted in his seat as Nyla raised a brow at him.

“It’s alright dear, we all need a nip from time to time,” she offers him a kind smile.

“Johnny had flirted since I arrived but it really changed that night,” you twist your fingers as you pace.

“She slept with both of us until she had a ‘family emergency’ and was never heard from again,” Johnny glances up at your family photos as he drops his snide comment.

The glare you level on him would melt glass.

“It was a family emergency. I needed my family, emergently. I was in over my head and I was scared.”

“You knew what you were doing, you were grown.”

Simon’s hard words caught you in the neck as you paced. His folly found him in saying it when you were close enough to reach him. Not even God and all the angels would have been able to still your hand. It connected with a resounding crack.

“How old was I?” You shout at him even as John leaps from his seat and hauls you away before Simon can recover enough to return fire.

“You’re only a year younger than me!” Johnny is pushing to his feet now.

A quiet but firm ‘John’ from his mother pauses his standing. Sinking back into the cushion he glares at you.

John has you around the ribs, not wincing as your nails bite into his arm.

“I am five years younger than you. Do you know how old that made me when you both cornered me and dragged me into bed? Twenty-four! My brain hadn’t even finished developing yet.”

You want to, need to, move. John holds you tighter.

“We didn’t drag you to bed, we would never force someone,” Johnny’s glare hardened.

The eye twitch is uncontrollable.

“What about a situation where I was alone in a foreign country with no support system except a boss who was too busy dealing with the single worst divorce I’ve ever seen to actually check in on me? Hmm? He barely ate and certainly didn’t notice two men both older and in positions of power over me pushing their interest. What part of me had any impression other than force John MacTavish? You tell me that! How could I say no? Did you ever once make it clear to me that I had a choice?”

Simon and Johnny both open their mouths to defend themselves. Before they can utter a word you continue, vitriol flying off your tongue like spittle.

“No! You know what you did? You poured your hatred for yourselves down my throat. Choked me with it because you couldn’t admit that you were in love with the other. Do you know what I did in return? I stole the best thing you could ever create and fled the fucking country.” John tightened his grip on you when he felt you shift. “You know nothing of what I suffered under or because of you. You don’t get to sit on my couch and tell me you did nothing wrong. I would have let it go on until my visa ended but no. Both of you had to fuck up and call out for the other while balls deep inside of me. That’s when I ran.”

Wrenching yourself from John’s arms you stalked into the kitchen. Bracing your elbows on the counter you focus on breathing. Them being in your house dredged up a lot of emotions and thoughts you had assumed were gone. If only you could soothe them as easily as you do the boys.

Steps reached your ears.

“John, I just need a second okay?” Your voice cracks on the last word.

“Ah me dearie, I left the boys to chat.”

Whirling you find Nyla looking you over with compassionate eyes.

“I know I shouldn’t have slept with them both at the same time, but I didn’t feel like I had any way to say no,” you crush your arms to your chest, the pain helping keep you present. “I thought I could enjoy the time until I had to go home.”

“I am no here to judge you. My own dear husband had to fight off three other suitors I was sleeping with before I would agree to marry him,” she gave you a wink as you processed that bit of information.

Four men? Mama MacTavish was sleeping with four men at once? Damn. Guess you know where Johnny got his charisma from.

Her face took on a serious cast.

“They will never understand.”

Your eyebrows pulling together is all the response you can manage. Nyla knows what it means though. The pain ratcheting through you is the only thing keeping you from breaking down.

“The boys.” She runs her hands down her front as if smoothing an apron she left in Scotland. “Simon might understand a bit better once he thinks about it, but Johnny won’t. They have never had to balance the scales of safety of their bodies or safety of their souls anywhere that didn’t involve gunfire.”

A distant look comes over her face as Nyla’s memories play across her eyes. A deep breath and the closing of her eyes pull her back to the present.

“We know the constant battle we face as women. Embedded in our bones by our mothers, the need to comply, to capitulate.” She focuses on you now, eyes boring into yours. “I am proud of you for running, child.”

The tears slid down your cheeks without your permission. When you are gathered up in her arms you wonder if the decision to call her might have been a good one for you, and not just the boys, after all.

Secrets Masterlist | Masterlist

@love-kha1 @sweetlike-sugarplum @vmaxis @splaterparty0-0 @momowhoo @talia-the-gemini @redkarmakai @aethelwyneleigh27 @asexualbuthorny @sleep101 @callsignbumblebee @lucienofthelakes @sirbonesly

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #price x reader #soap mactavish #john price x reader #simon ghost riley #lostinstransit writing

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maopll · 2 years ago

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Hello, hello!

May I request Zhongli, Kaeya, Ayato and Al-Haitham with an s/o that likes to draw them? A LOT. Like, s/o has sketchbooks filled with sketches and drawings of them.

Thank you very much!

My muse I genshin impact !

pt 2 here !

⌗:, where you draw your lover in a secret sketchbook only for it to be revealed....

⌗:, a/n: thanks for the request anon ! it was a creative request actually.I was giggling while writing it. I'm sorry if your request took too long :(

⌗:, warning: mentions of petnames,..love, darling..., mention of Morax,,

,,what can you do when you are an artist and your lover is an absolute delight to your eyes of an artist? just like anyone else you admire his features by sketching portraits of his face, of his body, of his lips. but you are always quick to shut your sketchbook whenever he is near. if he sees it...you would die out of embarrassment....

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

KAEYA

our cavalry captain here is so beautiful you drool whenever you remember his face. if there was any person who had a perfect face it would be him and him only.

you have a shelf that has many leather books and drawing sheets but you never told him what they have. ofcouse he respects your privacy so he never asked but while you were out on some business he was in your bedroom when some books were fallen on the ground. while he was picking it up he came across your pieces of him.

curves drawn perfectly, blemishes that he never knew he has yet your eye captured those. you drew him so well that he found his breath caught in his throat. he stored the little picture you made for him but you never noticed it.

The next day when you visited his office you saw the very portrait of kaeya with a calla lily which you drew on his table. "Where did you find this from kaeya !?". you had such a deep blush on your face which made kaeya burst into a laughter.

No matter how much you insist the portrait will be with him forever now and you will not be able to take it from him.

ZHONGLI

he has a statue of himself in many places. through centuries and millenias devotees carved him from high quality jades, golds and precious stones alike.

No matter how famous or talented the craftsman was he when he was Morax, never found those statues to be made from pure devotion alone. Therefore he never expected for anyone to draw him with the love and devotion one might expect.

But you proved him wrong. He found many sketchbooks while cleaning your shared home which had only his portraits. some were romantic while some were a bit sensual nevertheless from just your drawings of him were enough to let him understand the extent of your love for him and your pure devotion. But there was a certain oil painting on a canvas that was only his portrait with his chin resting on the palm of his hand. it was so beautiful with precise strokes that he decided to hang it on the lounge wall.

After you returned from grocery shopping you were stunned to see the painting you stored away only for the one whom you didn't want to ever see it just saw it and decided to hang it on the wall.

"I must apologise for looking through your sketchbooks, love. But...I am indeed quite amazed to see your masterpieces. this one in particular caught my attention so I decided to hang it on the wall. After all..I need to show the guests how well you draw"

AYATO KAMISATO

Yashiro Commisioner Ayato Kamisato has had many portraits, full body sketches drawn ever since the day he was born. He was the son of the esteemed late commissioner and the former Head of a clan so many pieces were made by talented artists from around teyvat.

While he had seen you on many occasions drawing on a sketchbook with pen and or ink he never asked what you drew as you were quite...adamant to not exactly show him what you create. so seeing your behaviour he never asked but while signing through paperwork one late night he found your sketchbook lying. you must have forgotten it and although he told you he would never see it, curiosity got the better of him and he flipped through the pages.

His eyes widened as he saw the countless creations of yours which only centered your one and only muse, Ayato, your lover. He had literal heart on his eyes because all this time you were only drawing your beloved. He kept that book as a lucky charm.

The following day when you ssked him if he saw the leather book you always had he just held out the same while saying "oh? then you must be talking about this" you were bright red as you saw the familiar smirk he had on his face which was enough to tell you that he saw everything.

He chuckled a little and said "your creations are beautiful darling. allow me to express my gratitude, but can I ask you to let me keep this to myself as a token of your affection?"

ALHAITHAM

Alhaitham never really held a fascination towards performing arts but he knew of your admiration towards the same. Since he loved you he never showed any form of disgust towards arts and he never really had one. He just felt that it was not important.

While he would be working in his temporary Acting Grand Sage office you would sit in a nearby chair sometimes and sketch your way in the sketchbook which you always carry. Even kaveh said that your designs are absolutely fantastic but...how come he has seen what you drew but your actual lover never did?

He should admit that he was a bit jealous that his roommate had beat him to your secret sketchbook but he respected your privacy and never asked for it.

Inside your house while alhaitham was skimming through his library for a new physics book he came across your diary. He opened it a little only to find it filled with him and only him. He was taken aback by how you were actually really good at art but also a bit flustered how he was your inspiration.

Hiding the blush he went to talk to you. While you were quite embarrassed yourself and you apologised for drawing him without his consent, he only said that "there's no need for you to apologise love, rather I am glad that i could be a form of inspiration for you and..I hope you will continue to draw me like how you do..". he managed to tell you that all while fighting a blush that spread across his cheeks.

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nomatterwhatnomatterwhere · 4 months ago

Text

What a ( Not so) Strange World: Extra- Yuu's Interlude

Author's Note: Hello, yes, as always I am late, but hey, we are here somehow. Sorry it's not an actual chapter, more like a little extra - spoilers? sneak peek? - about the next chapter, but I didn't feel like leaving you with nothing so I hope you can enjoy this little extra too

Warning: slight angst, little mention of a panic attack

Masterlist

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

"Dear, I understand you're worried, but you won't help anyone by refusing to take care of yourself."

That was the first thing Yuu heard when they woke up, somewhat confused and disoriented, their breathing quickened and a weight on their stomach.

"While on the other hand pretending nothing has happened helps a lot’ that was your voice, rather shrill and definitely disgruntled ‘ Crowley hasn't even come to check on our condition and Riddle isn't doing any better, Cay said he has nightmares but pretends everything is fine, he doesn't even talk to Trey about it and-"

‘The HeadMaster is … not very empathetic, but I'm sure if he felt it necessary to intervene, he would have.’

That was Professor Trein's voice. Why was Trein in Ramshackle?!

"Yeah sure, because letting his students deal with an Overblot was not a situation where his intervention was needed!"

You sounded increasingly angry and even a little disappointed, if Yuu could read between the lines correctly

"I was scared. I've never seen anything like that. I've never even read about it! I didn't know what to do!" you were starting to sob " Crowley was busy evacuating students who were running away without him intervening anyway, while we were faced with a Riddle who wasn't really Riddle trying to kill us!"

Yuu heard Trein sigh as you sniffled

‘’He's the HeadMaster! How did he not realise one of his students was about to explode!"

"Crowley didn't -"

"He hasn't checked on Riddle once since he came out of the Infirmary. Trey said he made sure his magic levels were within normal range. As if the problem was his magic levels and not his mood or mental state, or whatever it is that causes an Overblot!"

After a few minutes of silence, Yuu was about to make it known that they were awake, but stopped, when they heard Trein speak

"Now that you've vented’ Yuu had never heard Trein speak in a tone of voice that was different from the soporific tone he used in class, yet here we are ‘ Would you kindly explain to me why Lucius found you wandering around the school aimlessly at" brief pause "three in the morning, when tomorrow, today, you have class?"

"As if you didn't already know"

"I'd rather hear it directly from you than make assumptions and maybe draw wrong conclusions."

And you started telling about how you couldn't sleep since the Thing had happened, that's what you had called the Overblot for all the talk, that you closed your eyes and saw only those rose bushes trying to hit you and in your ears you could hear that Riddle's evil laughter in anger.

Yuu could share the feeling, but in their case the adrenalin of that moment had turned into tiredness as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

Wandering around the school gave you back a sense of control, calmed you down and distracted you from whatever was going on in your head.

How back at the dormitory you had heard Yuu mumbling something and worried.

If you, who knew magic, even destructive magic, had trouble coping, it must have been even harder for Yuu.

By the way, Yuu was already having trouble sleeping, even if they hadn't told you, but you weren't blind and you remembered perfectly the look on their faces when Ace had first invited himself into the dormitory.

It was obvious they had nightmares about their situation, you'd had them too when you'd first arrived there, but you'd had support, Yuu seemed left to their own devices and you didn't know how to help

"Does Divus know you're here, or should I expect a second interrogation?" you asked once the whole thing was over

"Lucius threatened to strip his fur. But you didn't hear that from me" replied Trein, making you chuckle.

Yuu heard your footsteps moving away, and released a sigh.

This conversation had raised more questions about you :you had answered some of the questions Yuu had asked at the Unbirthday Party organised after the Overblot.

When Trey had ‘revealed’ that Cater did not like sweets, the ginger had immediately turned his gaze in your direction

"Don't look at me Cay, I didn't say anything."

"Maybe you got bought off by his chocolate muffins" Cater had joked to which you had responded without missing a beat

"They're berry, if we're being clear, and he hasn't offered me one in years"

"Blame yourself for that" Trey had inserted himself into the exchange, throwing you a look that Yuu hadn't quite managed to read, but which you seemed to have understood

"I'm sorry, okay? But it's not really all my fault. I'll make it up to you."

You had confessed that you had known both of them for a long time (‘Isn't it like I tried to hide it, though?’) as you consciously watched a piece of your tart disappear into thin air.

You also knew Che'nya, which made sense if you were childhood friends with Trey, though that didn't explain why you didn't know Riddle

(‘They met Riddle before they met me’ you had explained as you watched the three of you interact with each other ‘ We never got a chance to meet, but Che'nya liked to say I would like Riddle. Now I understand why’ you had not argued further)

If it had been another situation Yuu would have thought Trein was just worrying that a student hadn't broken the rules, or something like that, but this wasn't another situation.

You had called Crewel by his name without any problem, as if you were used to it, you had even joked with Trein as if it were routine.

The mere fact that Trein was using a non-suffusive tone was a huge clue that you had known each other long enough.

The thing was, it didn't make sense to Yuu: your parents had to have some connection to the NRC, otherwise it didn't explain the relationship you seemed to share with the two professors.

Heh. You hadn't actually talked about your family.

You weren't talking about yourself in general, now that Yuu was paying attention.

They should have asked you, as soon as you felt a little better, it wasn't a case of burying yourself in questions you might not want to answer.

You had a bad habit of keeping your problems to yourself, from what Yuu could guess, and forcing yourself to talk about them would probably have the opposite effect.

The next morning had arrived without too many problems, if you excluded yet another bizarre dream and the fact that Grim was a rather rude night owl.

You had already gone out, leaving a note on the kitchen table in which you apologised for leaving without telling them, but you didn't want to wake them up.

You had things to do before going to class, so if you hadn't passed each other in the corridors, you would most likely have seen each other in the Cafeteria.

You hadn't specified what it was you were supposed to be doing, but if Yuu understood anything about you it was that if there was something you didn't understand or didn't know the meaning of then it was time to do some research.

From the conversation they'd overheard that night Yuu would have bet you'd been researching everything you could about Overblot

( Or how to remove Crowley from his role as Head Master, that too could have been a research topic)

Although, if they had to be honest with themself, Yuu believed you wanted to avoid Ace as much as possible, and considering how the two Heartlabyul students were now regular guests at Ramshackle, leaving before he and Deuce arrived at your dormitory was the only solution.

You and Ace didn't know each other. Or at least, Ace certainly didn't know you, yet the annoyance Yuu perceived coming from you whenever the redhead was nearby was only understandable after years of acquaintance.

Ace was cocky, touchy, tactless, and had a rather peculiar way of showing that he cared about someone, but he wasn't just flawed, he fought for injustice, took an interest in other people's motives, and was their friend.

Yet the look you gave him when Riddle had recovered from his Overblot was furious. If you had been in another situation Yuu would have sworn you would have sewn Ace's mouth shut yourself.

It was something you did a lot, Yuu wasn't sure if you realised it, but whenever Ace was in your vicinity you not only visibly stiffened, but also assumed a bewildered expression whenever the boy spoke.

If someone had asked them, Yuu would have said that your reactions stemmed from the fact that you were very similar to Ace in the way you acted, but you weren't aware of that, and you certainly weren't ready for that conversation.

And even more surely Yuu wouldn't have brought up the subject with you, they didn't want to risk the blatant favouritism you had towards them.

Omake:

Good morning,

Well, I hope it's a good morning, but considering how much Grim talks in his sleep, I wouldn't be surprised. I have things to do before class and didn't feel like waking you up - not least because having a moaning Grim around in the early morning is not what I aspire to. To make it up to you, I made breakfast! If Ace and Deuce come, offer them biscuits but remind them that they have a respectable dorm and I don't want any trouble with either Trey or Riddle about their diet, thank you.

Make sure you're not late for class with Professor Trein, he hates latecomers!

P.S. If we don't run into each other in the corridors, save me a seat at the table in the Cafeteria.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #reader insert #twst x reader #disney #ace trappola #cater diamond #deuce spade #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #che'nya

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