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liver-f4ilure · 2 months ago

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The Irkutsk Molotochniki: AKA The Academy Maniacs (BIG info post)

NOTE: Haiii!! Sorry I haven’t been posting, I got a life! I’ve been writing this since AUGUST! But took a 3 month break. I kinda rushed the trial but everything else comes from Russian articles! <3

Early Life

Artyom Alexandrovich Anoufriev

RUSSIAN: Артём Александрович Ануфриев

Born October 4th, 1992, in Irkutsk Russia to mother Nina Ivanovna Anoufrieva and no father had been described positively by classmates despite being an outcast and his hard home life. Including a family friend who had known him ‘from the cradle’ who characterized Artyom as “Artyom is a good-natured boy, polite, I’ve never heard a bad word from him,”. According to his headmaster his mother had taught time to hate people and give given bad grades, would try coerce the teacher into psychologically pressuring her son. Artyom had good grades especially in English and literature, he had also shown interest in music and took lessons for the guitar and double bass. He had also joined, sang and played in a local music group before the groups organizer left.

Artyom as a kid

During his older years Artyom started to mature and became more out going while his grades deteriorated. He shortly graduated high school with sufficiency. In his senior year his class filmed a farewell video, in which everyone gave their opinion on what happiness meant to them. In the video Artyom answer was: "To be honest, I do not know what happiness is. But I would really like to quickly find out what it is.".

After graduation Artyom went onto Irkutsk State Medical University while working at an art museum.

Three months before his arrest Artyoms neighbours reported hearing yelling and banging on the walls, like he was hitting the wall with his fists or running at it full speed. Artyom would yell “I hate everybody” and “I will kill you”. During the investigation Artyom would admit that at times his relationship with his mother was strained, and that he’d fear he wouldn’t be able to prevent himself from killing her. According to Artyoms lawyer, Svetlana Kokareva, he often talked negatively about his mother and called her ‘defective’ as well as a generally negative attitude towards women. Nikita also reportedly experienced similar: his depression worsened, he stopped communication with family and he started experiencing insomnia.

Nikita Vakhtangovich Lytkin

RUSSIAN: Никита Вахтангович Лыткин

Born March 24th, 1993, in Irkutsk Russia to his mother Marina, who worked at a shoe store and to a father who left the family shortly after Nikita was born. His father than married another woman who died shortly after and whose son committed suicide in the wake of his mothers death. Nikita’s father would return but leave after due to his depression from his deceased ex wife. During Nikita’s childhood he would come and go. Many accounts say Nikita was bullied at school and instead of standing up for himself he would just reply with “die.” Because of this, Nikita was given the nickname ‘Jimbo’ as a reference to Jimbo Jones, a bully from ‘the simpsons’.

Nikita as a kid

During junior high Nikita would do very well at studying and had good marks, he did not like math very much and in 5th grade was assigned to a special math class do to poor test results. Besides his good grades, Nikita was unsociable and uncommunicative. One family friend says this is because Nikita was jealous of his classmates with richer families. Because of his poor socialization Nikita started losing relations to friends.

Nikita’s childhood home

Meeting

At a mutual friends birthday party Nikita (10) and Artyom (11) met, with the two studying at the same school but one studying a grade higher. The two quickly grew close and Nikita fell into a deep depression, only trusting Artyom at the time, the two supported each other. Artyoms mother did not support the twos friendship and stated that she thought Nikita would have a bad influence on her son. However, after graduating Artyom would continue to study and even enroll into medical school unlike Artyom, Nikita did not. In several reports Nikita either dropped out of school or got expelled for insufficient grades.

During their friendship the started a punk-rock band called ‘Злые гномы’ the band didn’t last long but in 2008 the band was able to put out an album called ‘Чёрные полосы крови’ (AKA. Black Streaks Of Blood) the pair soon started another band, a noise band, named ‘Расчленённая ПугачОва’ or ‘Dissected PugachOva’.

Violent Interests

The duo both had a common interest of maniacs and murderers. The most relevant being the Irkutsk ‘Blood Money Gang’ in March of 2010. The gang being led by 22-year-old Konstantin Shumkov. Shumkov though he was expelled from his educational institution, wanted to work with children. He gathered a group of teenagers from dysfunctional families to kill 5 homeless people and attack 3 others in 2009. The pair followed the news very closely and even dedicated an album to the gang with songs like “Killing is cool!”, “Massacre at a maternity hospital” and “I killed a homeless man”. Nikita also reportedly made a social media group out of sympathy for the gangs leader named ‘Irkutsk Anti Bom-Gang: Blood Magic’ in the introduction fornthe group the group declares their hopes to continue Shumkovs work.

“The "Dismembered PugachOva" group will continue the work of the "Blood Magic" not only in the musical sense, but also in the real sense. [...] There is no place for posers in our group. Only those who decide the fate of cattle or are only going to start serious actions are allowed. If you are determined, you are here.”

As well, they would most videos of the murders in the groups and told the members to ‘abandon empty posturing and commit at least one murder’

You may wonder how people didn’t think of that as a red flag, well, many visitors thought that the videos they posted were staged and that they were ‘young liars and braggots’.

The two made other social media groups such as "We are gods", "Pichushkin - our president" a reference to a fellow Russian serial killer and "Dissected Pugachova"in reference to their band by the same name. However I could not find what exactly they posted.

Possible Motives

There are a few theories on what the duos motives were, one theory is that they were pushed by Nationalist propaganda. Since for a while Artyom was apart of a white power skinhead group and given the nickname “Fashik- Natsik”. From Artyoms suggestion Nikita would converse online with the skinheads but was ultimately denied part in the group due to his discrediting Ossetian patronymic Vakhtangovich (Iranian-Caucasian decent). Their affiliation with the skinheads didn’t last, as one investigator states ‘they immediately sensed their animal cruelty and rejected them’ another report stated that Artyom felt the groups ideology was ‘too passive and soft’. The then leader of the skinheads ‘Boomer’ stated later in court that ‘Anoufriev felt hatred towards everyone, and did not care whom he killed’. After being arrested in the pre-trial detention room Anoufriev made a message that stated:

"I want to apologize to everyone. My advice to parents: forbid your children to visit sites of nationalistic nature in social networks,"

However, the duo isn’t thought to be hate oriented since they didn’t have any nationality in mind. Nor did they care about homeless people or immigrants. Anoufriev and Lytkin simply hated all of humanity all together and even openly stated it. A motive that both Anoufriev and Lytkin confirm is their desire to imitate other serial killers.

According to Anoufriev the idea of murder was Lytkins.and claimed that it, unlike Lytkin, did not give him the satisfaction he had hoped for. He says he only did it “he put it where it wasn’t necessary” and described Lytkin with "I will just say—he is a leader. He did not influence, but was an instigator of crimes,". However, during the investigation Anoufriev stated that he was planning on moving to St.Petersburg and commit more crimes had he not been arrested. Investigator, Yevgeny Karchevsky reports that Lytkin admitted that he couldn’t have done it alone and stated that “it wasn’t interesting to one” and “Artyom and I did it- I liked it”. Lytkin also stated, like Anoufriev, that he would’ve kept killing had he not been caught.

The two stated they would walk from 6pm - 10pm around the “State University” transport stop in Akademgorodok. They would miss 5-20 people while looking for a suitable victim.

Timeline of Crimes

November 14, 2010 - Anoufriev and Lytkin attacked an 18-year-old Anastasia Markovskaya while she was walking from the 19th school bus stop in the way of the Novo-Irkutsky Village. The two tried bashing her head in to which they were in some reports, scared off, while in others she played dead. Markovskaya reported on the Akademgorodok online forum about the attacked. Where Anoufriev and Lytkin responded and asked her how it felt to be beaten.

November 24, 2010 - the pair attacks an unnamed 46-year-old woman, stealing her bag.

December 1, 2010 - the pair attacks a woman, stealing 500 rubles which they used to buy mallets. Later the same day the pair spotted a 12-year-old Danil Semyonov going down a snowy hill on his sled. Nikita initiated a the idea of killing Semyonov to Artyom since he was a weak victim who couldn’t put up a strong Defense. After catching Semyonov Nikita struck him in the back of the head, knocking him down. Artyom then hit him with a baseball bat, Nikita then stabbed Semyonov in the temple with a penknife. Later when Danils mother and bother had found him and had paramedics called to the scene. However, after being caught in a traffic jam, Semyonov was dead before arrival. On Semyonov’s arm was found a hematoma (also known as, a bruise) curating the idea he either fought back or was grabbed roughly. The next day his sled was found in good condition. Semyonovs parents and police didn’t think it was a homicide and instead an accident, that he simply hit a birch tree at high speeds. However later Anoufriev and Lytkin stated that the boy was simply ‘training’ for them. He was the first victim killed.

December 16, 2010 - nearly 20m from the spot Semyonov was killed, a 69-year-old Olga Mikhailovna was found. Olga had been a researcher at the Research Institute for solar and terrestrial physics. The pair killed her quickly unlike Semyonov. She was found with 30 knife wounds. Nikita and Artyom had also made an audio recording discussing how they’d kill her, after which they recorded the murder.

December 29, 2010 - The pair first attacked 29-year-old Valentinovna Svetlova at 6am, who escaped. The pair only took her purse which they then threw out. She miraculously survived her attack. An hour after her attack 22 year-old coach Yekaterina Karpova, Karpova was pregnant during her attack while walking home with her 6-year-old niece Olga Averina. While walking to the railroad Karpova reported that she saw the pair but didn’t engage. While crossing the railroad the two were attacked by Nikita and Artyom, Averina managed to escape with being hit by Nikita in the sides, later being diagnosed with extensive hematoma in the liver area. Karpova had, had her skull crushed in and fingers snapped despite screaming that she was pregnant. The killers were scared off by a car pulling out from around the corner. In result to this, Karpova and her pregnancy miraculously survived.

January 1, 2011 - Around 5am Artyom and Nikita attacked a homeless man who lived near some garbage cans, inflicting 40 hit to him as well as smashing his head in with mallets. He died later in hospital and has been deemed ‘Corpse No.20’ since authorities couldn’t identify the man.

On January 15th a 19-year-old homeless man named Vladimir Bazilevsky, who had bloodied clothes was detained on suspicion of the previous murder. During the interview he told officials that he had spent the night in a sewer well however, officials began to make him believe otherwise and how Bazilevsky put it “Knocked a murder confession” out of him. After more investigation he was wrongfully convicted of murder and in April of 2011 was sentenced to 4 years. After the actual killers were arrested, DNA of the blood on his clothes didn’t match any of the victims. In May of 2012 after serving over a year and a half of prison time, Bazilevsky was released and all charges against him were dropped.

January 30, 2011 - The pair attacked a student named Oleg Semyonov who was returning home from a night club. He survived with head wounds, a concussion and traumatic brain injury.

February 3, 2011 - The pair attacks an unidentified elderly woman whom survived with a head injury.

February 8-9 date unknown, 2011 - At night the pair attacks another woman whom survived due to a passing by car.

February 21, 2011 - While walking home drunk from visiting his sister Alexander Petrovich Maximov was attacked and killed. His jaw and head had been completely broken, as well he had been decapitated with remainders of his skull being found afterwards. Lytkin shot him in the head with a Baikal air pistol and Anoufriev had tried to remove his eyes, but ultimately failed lacking the proper knowledge. Maximov had a closed casket funeral, unable to have an open casket.

February 27, 2011 - Lytkin single-handedly attacked a woman by the name of Nina Kuzmina whom was sitting on a bench located on Lermontov St. Lytkin hit her twice in the head, but because of Kuzmina making a ‘fuss’ a nearby man looking out his window scared Lytkin off, taking the woman’s phone with him. Kuzmina survived.

March 11 , 2011 - On a walkway near the State university bus stop, Anoufriev and Lytkin killed a homeless man by the name of Roman Faizullin. Anoufriev shot him in the face before the pair dragged him behind some bushes and off the street. The pair stabbed Faizullin in the head, chest and groin. Lytkin had attempted to cut the mans hand off but only managed his pinky finger. Later Anoufriev photographed the corpse from his apartment window since it was near.

After this attack a rally was held in the area to discuss what precautions and measures should be put in place. Anoufriev and Lytkin would go to these rallies and meetings, they would share ideas about the killers and would video tape the meetings. By this time police had already figured out that the killer was between ages 16-18 and set up patrol cars that would tour the area to reduce other attacks (which didn’t work). Still in the area there was misinformation which lead to the citizens fearing that the killer was a guy in his 30s.

The pair then gained the name the “Academy Maniacs” via a journalist for the Komsomolskaya Pravda, Olga Lipchinskaya since nobody could identify the boys.

??, 2011 - On an unknown date the pair attacked a homeless woman whom survived the attack due to an off duty police officer seeing the pair from out his window.

??, 2011 - on another unknown date the pair attacked a woman using a screwdriver. Since the place was crowded the pair left and the woman survived.

April 3, 2011 - The last of the pairs crimes. The two killed a 63-year-old homeless woman named Alevtina Kuydina. The woman was killed near a research institute, after killing her the pair filmed a video. On the video, filmed by Anoufriev, Lytkin can be seen cutting the woman’s earlobe off with a knife after being scolded by Anoufriev for not covering the knife in case of finger prints. Lytkin then tried to cut the woman’s hand off and gouge her eyes. When he couldn’t, he instead struck a knife directly into her eye and started stabbing. Later they dropped the woman’s earlobe off at the porch of a school. Anoufriev send the video to an online friend from St.Petersburg named Ilya Ustinov or known as online “Solomon Gojo” who said the video was sluggish he still however, distributed the video online.

Investigation/ Arrests

Investigators and police didn’t suspect the attacks to be from the same people, since the victims had no relation or anything alike. The investigation lasted months while the town was left in fear. But because of the crime spanning in such a small area the police were able to piece together a sketch of the suspects. The portraits were even sent to the workplace of Lytkins grandmother, the institute of organic chemistry, she noticed how the portrait looked eerily similar to her grandson. She sent her son Vladislav, Lytkins uncle, to his house to question Nikita. Once he got there nobody was home, Nikita having gone out for a walk (but suspected victim hunting). Nikita’s uncle however, found the camera he had lended him, on the camera he saw the video that the pair had filmed prior. After discussing, the family handed the video over to police and soon Lytkin was arrested, Anoufriev following shortly after. Prior to the arrest Lytkins mother had found a knife packaged in the hallway or in other sources, his pocket. When asked about the knife he simply stated it was for Defense.

A little piece of Trial

On March 6 of 2013 Lytkin stated that Anoufriev didn’t participate in four of the attacks and instead someone else accompanied him, Lytkin did give names but they were never publicly disposed. Lytkin also stated he had other accomplices however it’s theorized that he made this up to slow down the investigation. One day at the detention centre Lytkin told his mother "Why do they make the devil out of Artyom and I am so white and fluffy? We are both to blame. He is no worse and no better than me, we committed murders together." Anoufriev states that the police pressed Lytkin using threat of solitary. Lytkins grandmother also published an open letter claiming that she blamed Television, democracy, the internet, satanists and pornography for Lytkins corruption.

During the trial each boy had taken a different defence, Lytkin took leniency on him being a minor at the time of the crime and Anoufriev cause he had only pleaded guilty to 1 count of murder.

Sentencing, Transfers & Where they are now

Artyom:

On April 2nd 2013, Irkutsk Regional Court sentenced Anoufriev to life imprisonment in a special regime colony. On January 27th, 2014, Anoufriev was transferred to Ognenny Ostrov in the Vologda Oblast. After transferring, Anoufriev stated in interviews that he did not agree with the sentence and that his family was trying to get him out on parole, as well, he also stated that he was working on a book but did not explain what it was about. And in Febuary of 2017 Anoufriev stated that he had been studying Law at The University of Latvia.

Artyom during the trial in the defendant cage

Nikita:

Also on April 2nd, 2013,Lytkin was sentenced to 24 years imprisonment with 5 of those to be soent in prison. Around October,2013, Lytkins sentenced was reduced to 20 years seeing as he was a minor during the events. Lytkin had made many transfers to prisons including:

Nikita during the trial in the defendants cage

December, 2013- transferred from Irkutsk Colony to Sakha Republic

??, 2015- transferred to Kemerovo Correctional Colony No.41, where a psychologist had discovered he was dealing with a mental disorder

August, 2016- The prison attempted to transfer Lytkin to a psychiatric hospital however, the day before he attacked an inmate ,hoping that he would be transferred to the same colony as Anoufriev, instead on June

1st, 2017, the court ruled he was a dangerous repeat offender and sentenced to 11 years.

??, 2018- Lytkin was transferred to Angarsk Correctional Colony No.7

On the morning of November 28th, 2021, Lytkin was found in his cell with severe self inflicted wounds on his arms. Paramedics rushed him to Angarsk City Hospital, where on November 30th he was pronounced dead. Lytkins inmates stated that he had been subjected to bullying and others state he had threatened to do it when his sentence wasn’t reduced furthermore and when he wasn’t transferred to the same facility as Anoufriev.

#liveralone #tccblr #tc community #tcc columbine #true cringe community #tcc tumblr #eric columbine #recipes by vivi #eric and dylan #dylan columbine #artyom anoufriev #nikita lytkin #nikita and artyom #academy maniacs #the academy maniacs #irkutsk molotochniki #info post

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tomriddleslovergirl · 2 months ago

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Sleep, Beauty

Tom Riddle x Wife!Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, fem reader, manipulation?

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You had awoken to a bed without your husband, and went back to sleep with him beside you.

When you awoke, you found that the space on the bed next to you—where your husband’s sleeping body should be—empty. It wasn’t surprising, as Tom would often get up earlier than you to immerse himself in his personal studies of the Dark Arts.

He told you that he would like to be a Professor at Hogwarts, teaching about the subject, and you thought he was already more than capable enough of taking up the job. Tom has of course taught you a bit about the dark arts himself.

You squint, looking over at the small clock resting atop the bedside table. It was four in the morning. That was rather early.

Though you were tired, a curious spark lit up within you. What was your husband up to?

You shifted off of the bed, and quietly opened the door to leave your shared bedroom.

Voices from downstairs made their way to your ears. They were all male —perhaps two other men, not including Tom— and their voices sounded familiar.

What would anyone be doing here at such an hour, you wondered. Perhaps it was something important, an emergency. There was no other good reason!

You went back into your room, put on your robe, and then quietly made your way downstairs.

But, it was strange. Strange because when you made your way to the kitchen, there was only Tom, using his wand to clean some glass cups. (Tom has been teaching himself wandless magic, and has made a small habit of using it to do household chores. It at times has resulted in some broken glasses— though those are easily repairable with a flick of a wand. He must have been using his wand because he hadn’t wanted to accidentally break something, and wake you up from the sounds of glass breaking).

“Tom?” Your voice sounds deeper than usual, a result of just using your voice after sleeping.

He looked over at you, surprised. “You should be sleeping. Go back to bed,” Tom demanded, though his voice was as calm as a lullaby. “I’ll join you after I’m done cleaning up.”

You grabbed a cup that Tom just cleaned, filled it up with water, and gulped it all down in one fell swoop. After you finished, you placed the cup in the sink, so that Tom could clean it up again.

“I heard voices,” you said, watching him clean the last dish and place it in a cupboard.

Tom let out a small hum of approval. “Ah, yes. Malfoy, and Lestrange had come by to speak to me.” He took a step towards you. “Had we awoken you? If so, I’m sorry.”

“What were they here about?”

Tom grabbed your hand and pressed a small kiss to your palm. “Bed, Love. We’ll speak about this in the morning.”

“But it is morning time!” you whined, looking up at Tom.

He raised a dark brow. You were correct.

“You know what I mean.”

Tom pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the sink. He leaned down, and pressed a small kiss to the area where your shoulder and neck connect. He kissed up your neck until he made it to your jaw. Only then did he kiss your lips. He tasted bitter, though sweet as well, like a tart. Tom and his friends must have sipped on some wine while speaking about whatever Tom refused to tell you about at the moment.

The curiosity within you was slowly waning as one of your husband’s hands made their way to your waist, and the kiss got more intimate.

You pressed your head towards him, deepening the kiss, but he pulled away.

“I will not have you in the kitchen, if that's what you’re thinking,” Tom said, amused.

A scoff passed through your lips. “I was not.”

He grabbed one of your hands, encasing yours in his, and led you up the dark swirl of a staircase. A small feeling of excitement ran through your body at what was to come.

You entered the bedroom and Tom shut the door behind him, though only the pair of you lived in this house.

You crawled up the bed, and sat upright against the pillows, waiting for Tom to join you. As it was dark, you knew he had joined you once you felt a small dip on Tom’s side of the bed.

His hands tugged your robe off of you, and your nightgown was the next to go.

Tom gently pushed you, so that you were laying on your back.

He pressed a small kiss to your lips, though the hunger he had for you was radiating off of him.

“Be good for me.” A command that you’d always obey.

Tom made his way down your body, pressing kisses atop your body as he made his way lower.

Once he got to your breasts, he blew on one of the nipples, trying to harden it. Once it did, he took it into his warm mouth, gently sucking on the nub. Tom stimulated your other breast with his fingers.

Your back arched in response, and legs spread a little more, welcoming him in.

One of your hands clutched at his shoulder while the other grasped at the pale bedsheets.

Once Tom was satisfied, he gently bit at your nipple, before continuing to move downwards. He kissed down your stomach until he was finally faced with your vagina.

Like Tom did with your breast, he gently blew against your genitals. Your eyes fluttered, and your lower half pushed forwards against Tom’s face.

“Touch me. Please Tom,” You pleaded. Already, the mysteries of what Tom was planning with his friends had slipped out of our mind. Now, you could only focus on the pleasure he could give you. The pleasure you knew he would give you.

Tom kissed at your thighs, teasing you, but when he finally licked a stripe up your cunt, you wanted more.

Hands held down your hips to stop them from wiggling forwards. He dragged his tongue up and down your pussy, drinking in the fluid you produced—a show of your arousal.

You let out small moans, though they were replaced by a whine once he pulled his face away from you.

Instead, Tom used his finger to spread your slick across your vagina, before slowly inserting a finger into you.

Your eyes squinted shut, focusing on the feeling of his finger moving in and out of you.

Soon, another finger joined the first. He scissored his fingers, stretching you out to fit his cock in you.

His other hand focused on rubbing your clit, and before you knew it, you came. It was like a quiet storm. Your legs shook, and a thin sheen of sweat covered your body. Small, breathless moans escaped your mouth and were let out for Tom and yourself to hear.

Tom’s frame covered yours as he positioned his body over you.

“Do you think you can take one more?” Tom peppered kisses atop your shoulder.

You nodded. “Please. Yes.”

He smirked—though you could not see it— amused.

Tom was quick to rid himself of his clothing. He then grabbed his hard cock, and pressed it to your slit. Tom rubbed his hard cock against you, before inserting it in.

Your head fell back against the pillows, taking in the stretch. You lazily wrapped your legs around Tom’s waist.

Tom pulled out of you just to push right back in. He set a slow pace that he followed almost robotically.

Your eyes fell shut, focusing on how his cock filled you up perfectly. You were still sensitive from your last climax, though you could feel the next overcoming you.

Tom used one of his hands to stimulate your clit, and that’s when you break. White hot flashed through you, electric. You grasped at Tom’s shoulders, bringing him closer to you.

A small grunt escaped Tom’s mouth as he finished. His hips moved against yours a few more times before he was finally satisfied.

Tom quietly moved off of you, and tugged you towards him, so that your head lay on his chest.

“Go to sleep. I’ll clean you up.” He pressed a small kiss to your forehead, and did as Tom told you.

a/n: haven't written anything in a while😭 but decided to come back to a one-shot idea that I've had for a while now. I used this to also practice my smut writing skills as well😭 Comments are greatly appreciated and so are reblogs! Hope you enjoyed!

Tom Riddle Masterlist

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #tom riddle smut #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x you #slytherin boys x you #x y/n

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b0r3dtod3ath · 8 months ago

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Hello hi!

Can you do a challengers fic?

Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.

(lots of groveling)

Thank you!

Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words.

You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is.

Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.

You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".

He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.

The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion.

The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance.

A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display. The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to.

Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down.

You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night.

For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged.

He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.

As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around - a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.

April 29, 2024

#writers on tumblr #challengers imagine #challengers x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x reader #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you

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thatdeadaquarius · 2 years ago

Note

sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.

and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...

SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*

Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO

Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK

Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("

SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-

Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao

Edit Update 4/6/23:

Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol

I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-

Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first

WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3

Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???

Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming,

but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-

Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, she’s beaming with a giddy little smile (💘)

It’s… so much more than what her game model could manage.

I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-

It was just…wow. 🥺

You can’t help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway

She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.

After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,

Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,

“Hzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!” *

…Nahida begins to look a little concerned… her eyes get impossibly bigger.

…Oh no.

♧

Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you can’t understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!

Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya… but that knowledge still didn’t prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. 💀

Then he’d tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.

Then he would scribble for hours.

Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You can’t even tell if there are multiple languages, that’s how unrecognizable this language is, damn)

The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou

At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language

They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol

Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)

But even then not immediately,

Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform we’re still translating?

Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. It’ll appear on walls or structures, so like Andrius’ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)

Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!

It’s like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today

…so of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because they’re so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterparts…

◇

Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,

or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,

your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue

So they know what you sound like, but that doesn’t mean they understood your language :/

Nahida had been hoping that you’re actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier

But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats

…so needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.

You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldn’t stick around

You figured they knew you weren’t nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didn’t have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps

You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when they’re walking around with you… maybe you’re just imagining it…)

And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnari’s face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city

…so why not go?

It’s not like they’re going to get it anytime soon, and it’s still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you can’t even hear their guesses 💀

You can totally handle being like the traveler too,

You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!

So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the traveler’s pack, the things like Primogems

(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)✨️

And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you

So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurer’s Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with

Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, you’re off!

...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!

◇

When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all “✨️💖☺️✨️” on Tighnari’s doorstep-

He chokes on the tea he’d been sipping on before he opened the door lol

He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with “calm yourself small animal” energy with your hands

“Tivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvob…” he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants… oooo…so pretty...)

But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol

Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?

She’s quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,

His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, “Grtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-”

Cyno stops and blinks.

Collei’s mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.

You blink.

Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like he’d rather be done for the day, you think.

The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.

◇

Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and they’re so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner,

As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch

But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.

Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnari’s face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face

The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same “chillll boy” gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic

Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,

“...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?

Cyno’s voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine

“Ziv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!” Collei’s sweet voice is also hushed like she’s witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,

“Nzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvoo…”

Though he’s replying, Tighnari’s eyes haven’t once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,

and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too

With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasn’t attached to that…

Oh well, he’ll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!

With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an “X” button, and it retreats like a classic TV set📺 turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands

You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after

You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesn’t take long to summon his bow

He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away

You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)

The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-

and it fucking explodes.

Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.

The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-

You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)

Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno

Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Collei’s jaw has dropped and she’s just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow

…Tighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You don’t know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,

and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/

Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-

“Blf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."

… and you just 🙂? Cool!

And give a thumbs up👍LMAO

☆

Bonus:

Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didn’t have time to translate that because you were gone.

Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-

Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol

Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao

(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc he’s never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)

♡

ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!

Bro has anyone else had this problem???

I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!

FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- 👹👹 UGH

ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVED

And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvat’s language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasn’t sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if you’re interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) here’s a hint:

*hint = Atbash

:> good luck!

Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then I’ll be homefreeeee 😭

Safe Travels,

💀♒

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

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yan-randomfandom · 1 month ago

Note

Hiii baby! Can I request Jinx, Cait and if you do Maddie (all separately) w/ a gf who is dose very crafty/homemade makeovers?

Hear me out- why spend money on a cut & color, new piercing, nails ect when your hg can do it for you herself?? (I just grew up poor and had to learn😭😭)

Jinx, Caitlyn, & Maddie with a crafty girlfriend headcanons!!

a/n: omg its so nice that you rose up & learned em😭 such a fun request! this one is written before act 3

I didn't proofread or edit so please feel free to point out anything that's bothering you 😭

also this might be ooc.... im so sorry if it is😔

Let's go and start with ...

🌀

Jinx

Jinx has an established style with her neon painted nails, twin braids, inventions, and everything in her possession. An endearing fashion sense, even if some think it looks ridiculous lmaooo

With Jinx being an artisan and artist herself, you both find being creative a common ground in your relationship!

Makeovers anytime, anywhere. No need to find professionals when you have your girlfriend right here! It's a give and take relationship for sure. I imagine it'd be so fun and full of laughs 😩

Also I think you guys will inspire each other back and forth lolol

Having an art block and you don't like it? Ask the other for help!

And if you're both having art blocks? Well, Jinx will take you out on vastly different spots until you find what you're looking for. It's a great way to bond, and sightseeing is nice (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

When you're exploring new styles, and you aren't doing it on Jinx, she would love to simply watch you work. It has some sort of calming effect on her, especially if you're rambling while doing it.

If she sees something of your art that she likes, she might just copy you in her style! Kind of like how Jinx did that makeup when she was in Vi's apartment or something

Although don't be surprised if you wake up and see your face horrendously painted in the morning 😔

You can't even revenge because she sleeps with one eye open, I fear

☄️

Caitlyn

MAN. I feel like you'd have to beg Caitlyn for even the simplest makeovers. She looks so plain rn (in the style way) or am I just blind 😭

You suppose it makes sense. She looks so perfect and you keep giving compliments. Like, why is she so pretty?? There's just so many possibilities you can do with her appearance!!

But, sadly, she doesn't let you give her makeovers much. Not that she doesn't like your work, she respects it and adores it, but arts isn't exactly her thing.

I think make-up of any kind would probably feel uncomfortable for her. Plus it would be a hassle to remove it, she would say.

What you can do is give her hair a trim. A perfect line, as much as possible. She comes to you when her hair feels longer, or more damaged, than usual. Granted, it can be boring, but you're just glad you're doing something for her.

Another thing is that you can choose outfits for her. You can doll her up anytime as long as you don't take too long picking combinations!

If she has time, she'll probably let you paint her nails. Make sure she doesn't regret it, or else she might never let you again.

She'd buy anything you want, by the way. Money isn't a problem for her. So you technically have unlimited supplies, thank goodness, 'cause sometimes they can be so expensive.

You jokingly tell her that even if you break up, if she ever changes her mind about getting something, she'll come to you. Absolute dibs on Caitlyn!!

🍯

Maddie

I feel like Maddie has never really delved into bodily artworks, since she spent most of her time studying about laws and stuff.

Like,, do we agree on the motion that she cut her hair so she doesn't have to deal with it 😭 Less weight during missions too

So when her amazing girlfriend happens to be passionate about creatives? Oh, boy, she's going to be filled with curiosity.

She'll allow you to do anything you want to her, as long as it isn't permanent. In fact, she's super enthusiastic about it, always trusting the process and seeing the result.

You're so creative that it's impressive!! Even if it isn't your best work, she always finds a way to praise you 😭

She'd love to watch you work as well, but she's not exactly the quiet type 🥲

Expect a whole bunch of questions. "What's that for?" "Why are you putting that?" "Ooh, that technique looks complicated. How—"

One of your quality time is definitely you trying to teach her new things. Let her paint your nails, do your hair, and anything that can make you both happy.

If you make clips or whatnot, you definitely try to overload her fluffy hair with decoration. You try different hairstyles possible with that length of hers.

Sometimes, you catch her playing around with your make-up alone. It almost always ends with you fixing it up for her 😭

you, showing your new haircut (it looks horrible): yoooo isn't this so rizzing

jinx: hell yeah

caitlyn: you are not going out like that. go get your unnecessary amount of hair extensions and choose from there

maddie: hell yeah

#yanyan headcanons #arcane x reader #jinx x reader #caitlyn x reader #maddie x reader #jinx arcane #caitlyn arcane #maddie arcane #arcane headcanon #arcane imagines #female reader

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fuctacles · 1 month ago

Text

<< six | 😺 | eight >>

"Yes? Hello, officer? There's a man in my apartment."

Eddie stirs awake, his surroundings coming back to him in hazy waves.

"What?" he slurs out, blinking to clear his vision.

"Oh, I was just telling the officer that I've found a man sleeping on my couch," Stephanie says with a troubled expression, hovering over him.

Over the couch that he fell asleep on.

He sits up so suddenly he loses his balance and falls back against the cushion.

"I'm so sorry, please don't call the cops—!"

Stephanie immediately shakes her hands, which are free of a phone.

"I was joking, I was joking!" she reassures him quickly. "I'm sorry." She smiles apologetically, taking a seat next to him. "I guess that wasn't the best way to wake up someone."

"No," Eddie chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Especially not an ex-drug dealer," he huffs dryly.

Steph cocks her head with a surprised "huh" and only then does Eddie realize what he has just blurted out.

"Ah, shit. Am I ruining my good neighbor status?" he winces.

"Not at all," Steph shakes her head, and gently pats his knee. He zeroes his focus on her hand when she decides to rest it there on his jean-clad leg.

"I know my nice neighbor Eddie, not the drug dealer one," she smiles reassuringly. "What made you turn around? If you don't mind me asking," she squeezes his knee and retrieves her hand to lean back more comfortably on the couch. One of her cats, Garfield, jumps on her lap for a greeting, and Eddie realizes she's still wearing her jacket. He looks at the clock on the wall and realizes it's almost midnight.

"Sorry, I'm holding you back, you're clearly tired," she backtracks quickly, watching his eyes dart around. But Eddie shakes his head.

"Nah, I just took an invigorating nap." She laughs at that and he can't help but smile as well. "I'd assume you're tired after traveling."

"I took an invigorating nap on the bus," she smiles, petting her cat. Arwen finally decides she's not above greeting her human and jumps in next to her as well, occupying Stephanie's other hand.

Eddie reminds himself not to get jealous of felines.

"I managed to graduate," he says and when Steph looks at him in confusion, he adds: "I dealt in high school to save money for my band, thought that was my only route. But then I did graduate, on my third try, and the art teacher pulled some strings, asked around, and told me I could go study music. The guys forced me to go for it," he smiles at the memory. "My band, I mean. They said at least one of us should know some theory," he chuckles.

"That's very nice of them," Stephanie comments.

"Yeah. The bastards followed me after high school too." He grins.

"And I still haven't heard your music," she sighs wistfully.

"I'll bring a tape next time," he promises.

"You better."

They sit in silence for a while, only the cat's purring filling the night ambiance.

"Want some tea?"

"I guess I should go."

They speak over each other, eyes wide when they meet awkwardly. They chuckle, and Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.

"Or I can get us a beer? Since you're not an old lady," she offers, spotting the empty bottle on the table. "Unless you really need to go."

"Beer sounds good. Considering there are no old ladies here," he smiles charmingly, daring her to protest.

Steph doesn't say anything, only rolls her eyes and gently nudges Garfield from her lap onto the couch cushions. She scratches Eddie's head when she passes, thankfully missing the way it causes his whole body to shiver.

"Won't your uncle be worried where you are?" she asks from the kitchen, giving Eddie the space he needs to collect himself.

"I told him I'd wait for you," he answers, scratching Garfield and trying to forget how good it felt when done to him. "Also, I don't have a curfew anymore. Never had, in fact. Not with Wayne."

"Lucky you." She steps back into the room, handing him a chilled bottle. "How long have you been living with him?"

"Since high school," he answers before taking a swig. "Spent a short time in a halfway house before that. My parents couldn't handle me anymore, but they managed to reach my uncle and he took me in."

"The hell do you mean 'couldn't handle you'?" Steph asks with a frown.

Eddie chuckles at her immediate offense.

"They got into legal trouble, and couldn't afford the house anymore, I think my dad spent some time in prison too. Tax fraud and shit, never cared enough to dig into it and Wayne doesn't like talking about them either. He's a better parent they'd ever be anyway."

"Yeah," Steph softens. "I'd love to have had someone like him back in the day." Then, she deflates with a sigh. "Though even the nicest people can turn out to be bigots. Not Wayne, of course!" she rushes to add. "He knows about Robin and he's really cool about it."

Eddie sees his opening and feels comfortable enough to use it finally.

"He better be, since his nephew is bisexual," he says with a little huff.

"He is?" Steph picks up curiously.

"Yeah," Eddie scratches his cheek, suddenly sheepish. "Turned out I wasn't watching Indiana Jones for the plot."

"I think that sweaty chest is plot enough," she says and they both laugh.

"Have you dated a guy, then?" Stephanie asks next.

"Only one for real," Eddie admits. "But it's not like I've dated many girls either, though it is easier."

"A young bachelor like you?" Stephanie raises her eyebrows in surprise. "You should be swarming with marriage proposals, the way your uncle describes you."

Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the cushions.

"What nonsense is he telling about me?"

"Only that he has a talented, smart boy in Indy, who's always helpful and protective of his friends and family. Also, he has really frizzy hair."

"Excuse me?"

Eddie picks up his head to look at Stephanie. She's suddenly closer than before, rubbing a lock of his hair between her fingers.

"When was the last time you had your hair done?"

"Uh." He looks between her hand and her face like he'll find the answer there. "Never? Probably? At least not that I remember."

Stephanie's mouth purses with displeasure.

"I can fix them for you. For taking care of my cats."

Eddie wants her hands in his hair so badly, but he raises his beer like a dumbass.

"But I already got a beer," he points out.

She shakes her head.

"I share beers with friends for less. I'd usually buzz Wayne too, and you'd be doing me a favor because I can't focus with your split ends right in my face."

She's really playing it up, pout and all, and unfortunately, it's working on him.

But he'd probably do anything she asked for.

"Then, uh... Sure, I guess."

#steddie #crazy cat lady stevie #stevie harrington #stevierything #mine #cw: age gap #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fanfiction #transfem steve harrington

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thedensworld · 3 months ago

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Dream Consequences | K.Mg

Genre: est. Relationship, fluff, suggestive;)

Summary: Mingyu had ignored you last night and you will make sure he'll pay for that.

I'm sorry, i'm just full of fluff these days:)

You woke up with a bitter feeling in your chest. Unconsciously, a scowl appeared on your face as the rays of sunshine invaded your sleep. What time is it? you thought, squinting at the bedside clock. It was 9 a.m.—Sunday.

You stayed in bed for a few more minutes, replaying last night’s events in your mind. The scenes came rushing back, each memory sharp and painful, making your heart clench. You turned your head towards the empty space beside you, where Mingyu should have been. The sheets were cold, and you sighed deeply.

He must be up already, maybe hitting the home gym or making breakfast in the kitchen, like he often did on weekends. Just as you were about to bury yourself back under the duvet, you heard the door creak open softly. Your eyes flickered toward the entrance, and your heart softened at the sight of a bright little face peeking in.

“Mummy!” An excited chirp filled the room, and your son bounded towards you, his small arms wrapping around you as he jumped onto the bed. His joy was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile, welcoming him with warm hugs and kisses.

“How was your sleep, baby?” you asked gently, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead.

He stopped giggling, his smile faltering slightly. “I had a nightmare,” he confessed, looking up at you with worried eyes.

Your heart tightened. “Oh, really?” you murmured, concern lacing your voice.

He nodded, his little face serious. “I was so scared, Mummy. I got out of my room and ran to Dad in the workout space.”

You smiled softly, proud of his courage. “You did a good job, baby.” You whispered to him to join his dad in the kitchen, watching as his face brightened again.

“Mummy’s awake!” your son announced loudly as he dashed into the kitchen, settling himself at the dining table. You followed him slowly, your gaze falling on the plates set out with a nutritious breakfast. His toy car lay abandoned next to the fork and knife—another small reminder of childhood innocence. Mingyu looked up from the stove as he heard the commotion, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw you.

“There’s my beautiful girl,” he murmured, wiping his hands on a towel before walking over to you. He wrapped you in his strong embrace, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “Good morning,” he said softly, his voice a mix of warmth and concern. But as he pulled back to study your face, he noticed your frown.

He tried to brush it off, but as breakfast went on, your silence deepened. You barely touched your food, and when Mingyu asked you if you wanted more coffee or juice, you just shook your head, eyes downcast. Mingyu glanced at your son, silently asking if something had happened, but An simply shrugged, focusing on his food.

“Did Mummy wake up grumpy today?” Mingyu teased lightly, trying to coax a smile out of you. Your son quickly shook his head.

“No, Dad. Mummy was already awake when I came in,” he answered truthfully. Mingyu’s brows furrowed, confusion darkening his gaze. Did he do something wrong that he didn’t realize?

Breakfast dragged on, the awkward silence lingering between you. Mingyu couldn’t shake the unease in his chest, but he decided to let it go for now. After finishing his meal, he called An to take a bath and get ready for his Sunday art class. You remained seated, eyes distant as if lost in thoughts far away from the bustling kitchen.

Once Mingyu dropped An off at the class, he returned home, still unsettled by your distant demeanor. He expected to find you in the living room, but you were nowhere to be seen. Worry gnawed at him. He headed to the bedroom, his footsteps quickening. The sight of you lying under the duvet, motionless, sent a jolt of fear through him.

“Love?” he whispered softly, stepping closer. He reached out hesitantly, his hand brushing your arm through the fabric. You didn’t flinch, but your eyes opened slowly, meeting his gaze for a brief second before you turned away, showing him your back.

“Hey…” Mingyu’s voice wavered slightly. He crouched beside the bed, his heart aching at your silence. “Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?”

You remained quiet, eyes closing again as if to shut him out.

“Did I… Did I do something wrong?” His voice was low, almost pleading. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to piece together what he might have missed. “Why are you ignoring me, sweetheart?”

The room felt heavy, your silence echoing louder than words.

Frustration simmered inside Mingyu as he watched you lie there, avoiding him. He crossed his arms, the bed dipping slightly as he sat on the empty space beside you. He looked down at you, his brows knitted together in concern and confusion.

“It’s mean, you know… You shouldn’t ignore me like this,” Mingyu mumbled, his voice soft but carrying a hint of hurt. His lips unconsciously pouted as he waited for you to respond.

You slowly opened your eyes, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. You knew he was right. You knew it was childish to give him the cold shoulder over something as irrational as a dream. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake off the weight on your chest, the bitter pang of pain that resurfaced every time you recalled the scene from last night’s nightmare.

“If I made a mistake, you should tell me,” Mingyu continued, his tone earnest as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “You shouldn’t treat someone you love like this—leaving me to wonder what I did wrong.”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut, guilt instantly washing over you. He was right. You groaned inwardly, frustration now directed at yourself. Why does he have to be so mature? You thought bitterly. Mingyu was always patient, always understanding, and here you were acting like a sulking child. It made you feel embarrassed, yet at the same time, it only made you love him more.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed yourself up, sitting up in bed almost too quickly. You turned to face him, but your eyes remained fixed on the floor, too ashamed to meet his gaze. Mingyu watched you with wide eyes, his posture straightening at the sudden change.

“You ignored me first,” you muttered under your breath, barely audible.

Mingyu blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. “When did I—”

“In my dream!” you blurted out, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Mingyu let out a breathy laugh, his expression softening. “A dream?” he repeated incredulously, his smile growing wider. He scooted closer to you, his thigh brushing against yours. “So, you’re upset because of something I did… in a dream?”

You nodded reluctantly, feeling utterly ridiculous now that you said it out loud. But Mingyu’s reaction wasn’t what you expected. He didn’t laugh or tease you further. Instead, he gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head up so that you had no choice but to look at him.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, his thumb brushing against your skin. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, even if it was just in a dream. But you have to tell me these things, love. I’m not a mind reader, and I hate seeing you upset and not knowing why.”

Your heart swelled at his sincerity, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You leaned into his touch, sighing softly. “It was just… a really bad dream, Mingyu. You were ignoring me, pushing me away… I know it’s silly, but it felt so real, and I woke up feeling like I’d lost you.”

Mingyu’s expression softened further, a look of understanding washing over his features. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m right here,” he whispered against your hair, his voice filled with reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

You nodded, the ache in your chest finally beginning to fade. “I’m sorry for being difficult,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Just remember one thing,” Mingyu murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he cupped your cheeks gently, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “I would never ignore you. You’re my drop-dead gorgeous wife—the love of my life. I would never do something as stupid as ignoring you, love.”

His dark eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart flutter. You immediately pulled back, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment at his sweet words. But Mingyu found your reaction adorable, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“Ah, there she is. Shy as ever,” he teased, his grin widening. He didn’t give you a chance to retreat any further. Before you could even react, he wrapped his arms around your waist and effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, settling you comfortably against him.

“Mingyu!” you squealed, instinctively placing your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. His embrace was firm yet gentle, and you could feel his warmth seeping through the fabric of your clothes.

“Yes, love?” he whispered, his voice low and dangerously smooth. The way he looked at you sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, sending a wave of heat coursing through your body. “You know you can’t escape me that easily, right?”

His words made your heart race, and you felt your resolve weakening under his gaze. Mingyu shifted slightly, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch feather-light against your skin. He traced lazy circles along your sides, his fingertips brushing just above the waistband of your shorts. Your breath hitched, the sensation both ticklish and electrifying.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he murmured, his lips now ghosting along your jawline. His breath was warm, his scent intoxicating, making it hard for you to think straight. “But I have to say…” He paused, his lips hovering just a fraction away from yours, “I much prefer seeing you like this—so close, so vulnerable.”

Your gaze flickered to his lips, and you swallowed hard. The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with anticipation. “M-Mingyu…” you stammered, unable to find the right words. His name came out more like a plea, making his smile widen in satisfaction.

“Hmm?” He hummed softly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “What is it, love? If you want something, you have to tell me.” He tilted his head, his eyes darkening with a mixture of adoration and something else—something far more dangerous. “Or do you want me to guess?”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. He took his time, savoring the feel of you against him. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly as his kisses grew deeper, more demanding. He gently nipped at your bottom lip, drawing a soft gasp from you, which he took as an invitation to explore further.

Your heart pounded wildly as he shifted again, his hands roaming up your back, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between you. You could feel every ridge of his muscles under your fingertips, every beat of his heart against your chest. When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your cheeks flushed.

“See what you do to me?” Mingyu whispered, his voice husky. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “You drive me crazy, love. Absolutely crazy.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat spread through your entire body. “Mingyu…” His name slipped past your lips again, and this time, it held a different meaning. You felt his hold on you tighten, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Tell me what you want,” he urged softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your thighs. His touch was tantalizing, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Because I’m more than ready to give it to you.”

Your heart raced, every inch of your skin tingling with the promise in his voice. You hesitated for only a moment, your gaze locking with his, before whispering the words that sent his heart racing as much as yours.

“I want you, Mingyu.”

The atmosphere shifted instantly. His expression grew even more intense, the playful smile replaced by a look of pure desire. Without another word, Mingyu wrapped his arms around you, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the middle of the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he murmured against your lips, laying you down gently. He hovered above you, his gaze sweeping over you with a mix of reverence and need. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally, your lips.

“Let’s see if I can make up for what dream-Mingyu did,” he whispered, his voice a velvety promise as his hands began to explore, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

You shivered, anticipation and excitement flooding your senses. “Mingyu... Please.." You brethed out, your voice trembling with want.

His eyes darkened even more, smile turned into smirk. "Anything for you love, just tell me where to start.."

Later in the afternoon, the sun dipped lower in the sky as you and Mingyu stepped out of the house. The fresh autumn breeze brushed against your skin, making you shiver slightly. Without a second thought, Mingyu slid his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, and before you could glance up at him, he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles.

“You’re too good to me, you know that?” he murmured softly, his voice still carrying that familiar hint of warmth. His eyes, however, glinted mischievously. “Makes me want to keep you inside the house all day—no distractions.”

You felt a rush of heat spread across your cheeks, remembering the intimacy you had shared just hours ago. Before you could get too lost in the memory, Mingyu nudged you playfully with his shoulder, his expression turning even more teasing.

“You think the neighbors heard us?” he whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. “Maybe that’s why Mrs. Song next door was looking a little flustered this morning.”

“Mingyu!” you hissed, your eyes widening as you tried to stifle a laugh, your face turning even redder. You playfully smacked his arm, but that only made him chuckle.

“What? Just asking!” He shrugged, a smug grin playing on his lips. “You were a little… loud, you know.”

You huffed, trying to act indignant, but it was impossible to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “That’s your fault!” you retorted, your voice a bit quieter now. “If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s you.”

“Me? Embarrassed?” Mingyu scoffed, shaking his head. He took a step back, his hand still holding yours, pulling you closer as you made your way to the car parked in the driveway. “You’re mistaken, love. I’d shout it from the rooftops if I could.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sheer confidence and adoration in his voice. Mingyu pulled you in for a quick kiss on the cheek before opening the passenger door for you with a flourish, bowing slightly like a chauffeur.

“Your chariot awaits, my lady,” he announced, his tone lighthearted.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you slid into the seat, watching him circle around to the driver’s side. Once he settled in and started the car, Mingyu reached over, placing a warm hand on your knee.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice casual, but you could see the playful glint still present in his eyes. “We should enroll An in a few more weekend courses.”

You blinked, glancing at him curiously. “Oh? Why’s that?”

Mingyu smirked, his gaze flicking over to you before he looked back at the road. “Because… if he’s busy all weekend, then we get more time to do… other things.” He paused, his lips curving into a sly grin. “Like what we did this morning.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly in shock before you burst out laughing, shaking your head. “You can’t be serious!”

“Completely serious,” Mingyu shot back, his expression almost comically solemn. “Just imagine—art classes, sports practice, music lessons… we’ll have so much free time, I might never let you out of bed.

“Stop it!” You laughed, swatting at his shoulder, but the laughter in your voice only encouraged him further.

“I’m just saying,” he continued, his tone mock-defensive. “It’s for our own sanity. We need some alone time, too. Right?”

“Right,” you drawled sarcastically, rolling your eyes. But you couldn’t deny the warmth blooming in your chest. His words were playful, but the underlying sentiment—the desire to cherish every moment with you—was unmistakable.

Mingyu’s grin softened, and he gave your hand a quick squeeze as you both fell into a comfortable silence, the car humming gently as it cruised down the road.

“Maybe we’ll find some balance,” you mused aloud after a moment, leaning back in your seat, your gaze flicking to him. “But I still think you’re a little too eager.”

Mingyu chuckled, his deep voice reverberating through the car. “Can you blame me?” He glanced at you, his gaze brimming with affection. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more. So, yeah… I’ll never get enough of being around you.”

Your smile widened as you felt a rush of emotion at his sincerity. You knew he was joking earlier, but the way he looked at you now—with a mix of love, contentment, and yearning—made you realize just how much he meant every word.

“I love you, Mingyu,” you whispered softly, reaching out to lace your fingers with his.

“I love you, too,” he replied immediately, squeezing your hand once more before lifting it to kiss your knuckles again. “Now, let’s go get our little troublemaker. I’m sure he has a million stories to tell us about art class.”

With that, you both shared a quiet, knowing smile as Mingyu drove on, the warmth and love between you two filling every corner of the car.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #mingyu imagines #mingyu oneshot #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fluff #mingyu smut #mingyu angst #mingyu as husband #mingyu au #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagine

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alpinearts · 1 year ago

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visual storytelling study of will grahams nightmare in s1e11, roti. included some process photos below the cut.

heres the text off to the side, with some typos corrected for convenience. these are just notes i was taking as i developed the artstyle.

will's delusions and nightmares lean heavily on visuals. less emphasis on panels/concrete storytelling and more on vibes + art.

he is literally getting brain damage. we are watching his mind melt from the infection.

hes an unreliable narrator.

non-will perspectives take on a more standard comic/graphic novel format with uniform panel structures and dialogue.

side note on this, will uses more double-page layouts as demonstrated here.

when dream will wakes up in bed we get a moment of clarity before it fades to mush and he goes sploosh.

glasses represent a barrier of empathy.

please ignore how emo the panel notes are im just an edgelord.

could take inspo from stray toasters???? they fucking obliterated the ethereal/fever draem vibes

when the wind blows uses regularity, then breaks it. i want to do that here but is a little hard* because im only showing will in the depth of his descent, not before* so we dont get time to get used to that. sorry i just showered and i have pots + im sleep deprived AGAIN.

#will graham #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal fanart #i accidentally posted this to my main account . i was so mad

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pampushky · 2 months ago

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i hate the air he breathes his foolish decrees

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 2 - 5k

woooo welcome to part 2 my loves! sorry for the slight wait. I've been doing hot bitch shit (my actual job). but now we're back. enjoy the fuck out of it. TW: no mention of abuser other than as him. mentions of abandonment and severe physical trauma in the form of a house fire. lore drop on the main character too!!

previous part | next part | masterlist | series masterlist

Mid-March 2005. Los Angeles.

Niki gets a call from an unknown number that wakes him up from a deep slumber, and he hardly has any time to think as he’s pulling a sweater over his head and forgoing a hat entirely. It’s his third day in as your legal guardian, and you’re already transferred to a state-of-the-art hospital in Los Angeles, across the country from where you’d lived previously. A newer set of mountains. A city to the hamlet you’d once known, hidden away in the foggy mountains of North Carolina.

As he blearily walks into the hospital lobby, there’s already a small team of doctors waiting for him, explaining rapidly what's happening to you as they walk him up to your room in the burn ward. You’re in the best hospital for burns on the continent— Niki had made sure of it. Had paid for the flight over here two days ago, with a medical staff on board to keep you stable during the five-hour flight.

The doctors swarming around your unconscious form resemble vultures. The burn center director explains everything to him when they finally get to your room. The rapid medical treatment nearly made you present early. Freakishly early, by all standards. It’s understood to have been a panic response by your body— because you're on the brink of death in the burn ward, your hormones so out of whack that for whatever reason, your brain had gone, ‘Oh, yes, it’s time to do that now.’

Studies had shown that those in areas where the risk of death was high often presented much earlier, with other cases that also supported something known as “panic presentation”. You’re an extreme example of the latter. But it had never been seen to this degree. You need to be knocked out for several days, going comatose while a team of doctors works around the clock to save your life while it seems likely you will melt away like the first snowfall on a sun-warmed road as it seems new complications get piled onto your case file every day. The way the doctor talks about you makes Niki feel like you’re more of a specimen meant for study, and not a pup who’d just lost her Dam.

Marlene has already decorated the sterile room to reflect more on a child’s room. And wherever there’s an empty space on a table, she’s placed down vases full of fresh flowers. Flowering dogwood. That’s what the state flower was of North Carolina, and however early in the season for blooming it was, she managed to find fresh ones every day. Now, Marlene was back at the hotel, settling a new wave of interest about your identity while Niki tried to figure out what he was going to do with you when he's lead into the room.

You’re already on several new medications to prevent you from presenting early, having them inserted in through an IV and eventually, to be taken as a pill when you could swallow. You'll be on these same medications until you’re seven or eight, when they can start to consider weaning you off of them to let you present then because it’ll be safer. Niki hates the idea of you presenting even then. You should be almost fully grown when you present. Not— not still a pup. With baby teeth still in your mouth. You should be wrestling. Learning to access your canine form, and causing mayhem like his sons had.

So he does what he’s been doing for the past five days. Niki sits quietly by your side in your private room. Holding your tiny hand while a machine breathes for you, not even five years old, and fighting for your life. Completely unaware of the complications your existence has thrown straight into Niki’s lap, dredging up old, old wounds that his sons have yet to recover from.

Because the great complication is that you’re his biological grandchild.

Through a son, a beta, that neither Lukas nor Mathias had gotten to know. Or Niki, for that matter. But here you are. The only link to that son. To the ultimate undoing of his marriage and mating, his infidelity thrown back in his face in the form of a sedated, traumatized pup that can’t understand him through his accent.

Left without a dam, your mother. Lost to the roaring flames of a housefire that you’d somehow survived. Part of Niki wants to know how his son had ended up in the area, and if there are any other new descendants he should know about. So he petitions the court to gain access to your files before he legally adopts you, and he stares down at them before finally lifting the cover of the manila folder and starts to read.

All the files seem to stare right on back at Niki as he continues to pour through them, officially five minutes and nine seconds into being your legal guardian. They’re meticulous, just as expected— it had become standard for anyone who’d had so much as a visit to a hospital to create a DNA profile, especially after they presented. His affair child’s profile stares back at him, with what he can only assume is an up-to-date photo. Male. Beta. Signed away parental rights before birth. Austrian nationality. That’s all you have to go on for your biological father’s identity.

That’s all that linked Niki to you, and how the social worker had managed to contact him. All other positive matches from your father’s side are his former mistress as your biological grandmother and his two sons with Marlene as your uncles. There are no other pups listed for his affair child. No other grandchildren that he has to worry about. Your dam’s profile is more complete. A smiling picture of her holding you as an infant, left by her family.

Female. Omega. Deceased. American nationality, born in Banner Elk, North Carolina.

And under that:

Dam’s pack signed away pack and next of kin rights to the pup. Relevant health history is accessible through the International UN DNA database. Pack requested no contact order until the pup has reached legal age, or unless the pup does not survive her time in hospital, so they may bury her in the family plot with her Dam.

This makes a chill run down Niki’s spine. Your pack had… signed you away? The only people who had been familiar to you— and they had signed away their rights as though you were more of a burden than anything, only asking for you back if you were dead. It makes him shudder, as he looks down at your tiny body again, for what must have been the thousandth time since he’s been introduced to you. Since he’d so quickly agreed to become your legal guardian, your legal sire. Covered in bandages and hooked up to dozens of wires.

The social worker explained that signing you away was them not wanting to pay for the massive medical bill, along with the scandal your birth had caused in the small community. Your Dam was unmated, and even worse, unmarried, raising you on her own in a less-than-up-to-code cabin her late father had left her, further out in the mountains, a thirty-minute drive into town.

The matriarch of her pack had been well-regarded in the area— it was an open secret that she was looking for any excuse to remove you from the picture. This just happened to be the perfect excuse. How was she going to be able to pay for your medical costs on her own when it was just her? All the advanced treatments you’d need— it would be too much in her old age.

When told about the Children’s Health Insurance Programs that could easily provide care for you, your grand-dam had just made a sour face and told the Social Worker she was still signing away her rights. Her surviving children were quick to follow her lead.

What a backward system. Niki had growled to himself, pacing in the room. Reading the reports from the insurance company he’d managed to legally bully his way into receiving from your biological family.

The cabin had burnt down in nearly an hour. You’d been trapped under a metal bed frame when the roof collapsed in on itself. When they’d found you, it had been a recovery effort for bodies. And despite it all, you’d survived, your whimpering and crying alerting the firefighters that you were alive. Severely burnt, with the old mattress and polyester blankets having melted and dripped across your little body as the embers settled. Half of your body severely burnt from where the flames could still reach you. Crying out for your Dam even as you were airlifted to the nearest hospital with a functioning burn ward.

Going over your files has become a habit for first past three days. Ever since Marlene had gone silent when Niki told her that he was going to adopt you, before brusquely starting to order furniture and calling countless contractors that a new pup-friendly room be added to his house in Hof. He’s lucky to at least be considered a friend of his former mate, otherwise, he would be stumbling through his second round of parenting. He looks down at the newest addition to his pack. You. Four and a half. With burns covering an incredible amount of your body. Nearly 45% percent of your torso, completely mangling one of your legs, crawling up your neck and dancing across your jaw. Now lying in a medically-induced coma to conserve your energy.

You wake up nearly two days later. Five days into Niki’s tenure as your legal sire. Unable to scream. Eyes fixed on Niki as your little chest heaves with the effort it takes to breathe. You pull at your IV and try to snap at a nurse who tries to stop you. But your eyes are still fixed on Niki, likely horrified by his burns. You were glancing at your own bandaged arms and body as if to gauge how you would one day look.

There is a wild look in your eyes as you look at him. The way you tremble as the doctors try to explain everything. It hurts Niki’s heart, especially with the gasping noise you let out before they sedate you again when you’re still not responding well to anything. Niki wants to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go. You mumble something out as you drift away again, tears in the corners of your eyes. Foggy eyes on the extravagant bouquets of flowers on the tables beside your bed and across the room.

Where is my Dam?

Early February 2024. Woking.

Your left leg was acting up again. It always did when you were stressed. The fire had mangled it— and that was putting it lightly. Not bad enough to amputate, because that would be too easy, and they didn’t want to send your body into even more shock. So you had your crispy, chicken-fried, useless leg. You could put some weight on it now, after nearly twenty years of intense therapy and correcting surgeries. But it was still incredibly weak. All twisted, mottled skin and a full knee replacement.

That’s what had made it so easy for him. That’s what had made it easy for him to chase you down as you tried to leave every situation that saw him near you. Easily able to keep pace with your shambling, stress-induced walk as you choked on his scent.

Your upper thigh twinges. The needle pierces your skin all over again. That was the only reason you’d been able to walk away without experiencing a true heat from whatever drug he’d hit you with. The bad, mangled leg of yours. Your downfall and savior.

The halls are winding, but you can vaguely follow the way to your office from previous talks. You call Lewis the moment you get to the room. There’s already a brand-new mini fridge sitting on your desk, likely from the accommodations you’d listed in the countless documents you’d had to sign when you got hired.

There’s a few people unboxing your items and they look a bit shocked to see you back from what was supposed to be a much longer meeting.

“Ms Lauda—”

“Leave, please,” you whisper while pacing across the room, trying to calm yourself down. You can feel your scent-blocking, adhesive strips tingling. Your scent glands, especially the damaged ones, threatening to blister from the stress of what just happened. You were going to be sacked for certain. Not only had you yelled at the driver you were meant to work with, you’d also thrown an empty can at him. “I’d like some space.”

The workers, your new assistants, you realize, hurry out, not even catching your mumbled thanks as you tuck yourself into a corner where you can’t be seen from the door. So much different than Williams. So much more support. Lewis doesn’t pick up immediately, but just as you’re about to call again, his contact photo appears on your screen.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay—” Is the first thing you hear, like the protective older brother he’s always situated himself as in your life. “What room are you in? I still haves ways to get into the classified parts of the MTC—”

“I’m going to fucking kill Lando Norris,” You growl into the phone, and Lewis lets out a relieved noise, before breaking off into a fit of laughter, his voice more distant as if he’s trying to muffle himself. “Don’t laugh! That fucking brat, I should box his goddamn ears, showing up nearly an hour late to what was supposed to be our initial meeting—”

“Ah, yeah, sounds like Lando!”

“Fuck off, Lewis,” You whine, and he has the audacity to laugh even harder, because your accent slips, as it always seems to do when you’re with your immediate pack. You can hear him shuffle a bit. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” You concede to him with a soft sigh. You hear the chortling barks of Roscoe in the background of Lewis’s call. “I’m gonna do my job. But I’m gonna hate it. Unless I get switched to Oscar.”

“Don’t sound too hopeful.” Lewis chides on the other side of the phone, and you hear the doorknob jiggle, followed by a soft knock. “Sounds like you have some work to do.”

He hangs up before you can say something in response to him, leaving the gentle knocking on the door to slowly drive you insane. Likely Andrea or Zak, telling you that you were going to be let go for committing a minor assault against their star driver.

And you're right, it is Zak. But he looks more concerned than angry with you, immediately putting his hands up in a placating manner when you open the door as if you’re the one with all the power and he’s not the CEO of McLaren Racing, your ultimate boss. Your boss’s boss. The one who bulldozed his way into getting you on the team because he’d seen your work to get at least a modicum of respect back to Williams, and, in his own words, got a good vibe from you.

(And maybe Niki had been in his ear a little bit about it, but when Niki Lauda spoke, people had a habit of listening rather closely to whatever he said.)

“Mr. Brown,” You start formally, leaning down in a way that is traditionally seen as submitting and a very, very formal way to apologize before he starts to squawk in surprise at it all.

“Don’t– What are you submitting for— are you alright?!”

The last thing you expect is Zak fretting over you like you’re a pup. He’s gently squishing your cheeks with his hands, checking you over, and you can see his nose twitching, as if he’s checking your scent for any signs of distress. Only to look confused by how… clean, you smell.

“Are you— are you still hurt from everything?”

“No, I just,” You take a step backward, and hold up your hands just like he had just been doing for you a few seconds ago. “It’s easier to hide my designation when I smell like this.”

He just looks confused at your explanation but doesn’t seem to question it.

“And you… want to continue hiding it?”

“Preferably.”

Even as you say it, you can see a bit of pity in his eyes. You know his mate is an omega. He has a pup who’s an omega. Both of which he supports wholeheartedly. You’d seen all the articles. Part of you is jealous. Another part just wants everyone to stop caring about what your designation may be. Why should anyone care what you are?

You’re proud of yourself, regardless of your designation. You’re not some prize to be won! You can stand on your own two feet, you can take care of yourself. You had more than shown that—

Zak is hugging you. Rumbling softly like any parent would do for a distressed pup.

“You don’t have to justify it. I just need to know so I can make sure that no one else is told, aside from our medical people.” He whispers, and you sag against him. Relief fills your mind. “What— what do people think you’ve presented as?”

“Alpha. Like Vati. They think I’m an Alpha.”

“We can work with that,” Zak pulls away, looking at you. There’s only worry in his eyes. “Can I ask one more thing?”

“Yeah,” You sniffle, not realizing you’d starting to tear up as you look at him. “What is it?”

“Why…. did you throw an empty can of Red Bull at Lando? You’re not in trouble, I just want to know why.”

You flush, and Zak just starts to laugh.

McLaren is much, much different than Williams.

Lando has been sitting in a chair while Oscar screams at him. Andrea has disappeared. It’s been ten minutes and all he wants to do is curl up and die and apologize for commenting on your voice and being late and not charging his phone and really, every other thing that he’d done wrong, ever.

Yes. He is technically the older one. No, he shouldn’t be acting like such a pup over this.

Yes. He should know better than to comment on things that people can’t change or help about themselves.

Yes, Oscar, Lando was aware that you had survived a very traumatic house fire that nearly killed you. No, it’s not okay that he called you a robotic bitch. No, he didn’t read the email about the apparent triggers that you had from this event. Frankly, he wasn’t even aware that they had emailed those to him. That seemed like a bit much.

“I mean seriously, Lando! This is ridiculous! Fucking calling her that!”

It feels like he’s being lectured by his Dam again, her words blending English into Flemish until he can’t tell what she’s saying, just that she’s pissed at him. Instead, it’s just Oscar’s accent getting thicker and thicker until Lando’s certain he’s never heard anyone sound so furious with him, and that’s really saying something.

“I get it,” Lando whines, letting his head slip so that he can press his forehead against the table. And he does feel bad! Really! “I didn’t know she’d respond like that!”

“Wonderful excuse to be a fuckhead, champ,” Oscar drawls, eyes narrowed. His arms are folded. He looks unimpressed. He smells more, now than ever, of rotting oranges. Lando can imagine the maggots. “I’m shocked you didn’t comment on her designation as well.”

“She’s an alpha! And she smells so medicine-y,” Lando wrinkles his nose, lifting up his head enough to glare at the omega in front of him. Oscar’s face is a blank mask of annoyance, with a flicker of some other mystery emotion. But he can at least tell what he’s thinking because he can smell his displeasure from across the room. It’s all rotten oranges, burning rubber, and singed hair. “C’mon! I didn’t know it’d set her off that much, man!”

“Commenting on traumatic events tends to do that to people.”

“How was I supposed to know it was traumatic?!”

“Wow, you really didn’t read any of the emails,” Oscar lets out a low huff, sitting across from Lando in one of the plush office chairs. “We’ve been in talks with her for weeks!”

“You were in talks with her, maybe,” Lando says snidely, narrowing his gaze at the omega across from him, “I didn’t think I needed a new race engineer, yet here we are. But you seemed awfully interested when you heard she was looking for a new team.”

Oscar scoffs. His cheeks turn slightly pink. “No, I wasn’t. She’s a good friend. I thought she’d be a good fit for the team.”

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the fact that you have such an obvious crush on her? I bet Logan even helped set you up,” Lando knows he’s been a dick again. But he’s frustrated. He’ll get lectured by his therapist for this later, and he’s okay with that. He just needs to make Oscar squirm a little for his high-and-mighty attitude. “You want her pups, I bet. Already have the first three named.”

“Fuck off,” Oscar snarls, and Lando decides to keep digging a bit more. “It’s not like that! Besides— I’m courting someone!”

An awkward silence settles between the two. Oscar’s flushed pink. And Lando starts to grin. All evil like, in Oscar’s opinion. Gleefully, in his own.

"Oh, but it is!” Lando chimes, his voice all sing-songy. He’s in full older brother mode. He knows exactly what to do to push Oscar’s buttons now that his teammate has shown his weakness. He’s done this with his sisters. And Oscar’s probably used to being the one doing the tormenting, as his family’s oldest pup. “You like her!” And then, with a very dramatic gasp, “Oh, you’re probably courting her! No wonder you wanted her here!”

Without so much as a warning, the Australian driver leaps at him with a snarl the moment the words are out of his mouth. They’re both tussling on the ground, before it turns into the two of them in their canine forms, snapping and snarling at each other. This is when Andrea decides to make a reappearance, looking a bit startled to see a mousy-brown wolf and a dark-brown wolf rolling around on the floor of the conference room. Oscar is large for an omega in his canine form, but still smaller than Lando. Lando is wirey, not as bulky as many would expect an Alpha to be. It’s rather evenly matched, considering how often the two of them are training.

One moment, Lando has Oscar pinned. Another, Oscar has him pinned. Snarling and biting and kicking until the door opens again, and now it’s Andrea, Zak, and yourself watching the two of them wrestle until you fearlessly walk into the fray and grab Oscar by one of his hind legs.

Oscar turns human again immediately, hitting the ground with a loud ‘oof’ while Lando scurries away, watching as you start to lecture the other driver as he stands up. Your tone is hushed, but it’s clear that this seems to be a common occurrence between the two of you. You’re leaning over him, and the rumblings of annoyance and displeasure are clear as day.

Lando can’t help but smirk as the other man makes fleeting eye contact with him as you sit on his side of the table, taking your place as his engineer, despite your obvious contempt for him.

“Now, let's get to business…” Andrea sighs. You keep your eyes ahead. Hands folded neatly in front of you. Letting his words blur until you feel Oscar gently tugging on your arm. He looks concerned, and you smile tiredly at him. Only just remembering the promise of cuddling in his nest with him when this was all done.

You don’t even care if you look or act nothing like the Alpha that Lando thinks you are. You just slump against Oscar with a grumpy half-whine as he hoists you over his shoulder. The other driver lets out a loud snort at that, and your friend only glares at him, about to say something else before you bring one of your hands to tap his cheek lightly.

“Just get to th’nest,” You mumble, leaning against him. Your leg aches. You don’t want to walk. “Wanna get th’blockers off.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oscar sighs, glaring at Lando over his shoulder before walking past with you in his arms. You don’t care about how it looks. You’ll deal with it later. And before you know it, you’re curled in the world’s comfiest nest, all in shades of orange and black. With the comforting scent of sweet tangerines and charcoal. Oscar hands you a nice little bottle of micellar water to help get the sticky adhesive of the blockers off, much more gentle with your skin than you ever are with yourself. He’s even soaked cotton rounds to make it a bit easier to apply, gently rubbing them across your scarred glands to clear any remnants of the adhesive off of your skin.

The smells of mountain rain and fresh baked peach cobbler mix with Oscar’s scent as you stretch, rubbing your cheeks tiredly.

You let yourself relax then. Sinking deep into the soft pillows as Oscar comes to spoon you from behind. A commonplace action, and had been since he started to get more and more bold with you in his attempts to court you.

You can hear Oscar start to Facetime someone, probably Logan. But you honestly don’t care all that much— he’s there, and you’ll give your friend a full debrief, of course, after you’ve fully rested.

“Your leg acting up?”

Oscar nudges you, and you grumble, trying to press your face further into the plushness of the nest, voice muffled by pillows. “Who cares if it is?”

“I do.”

“So do I!” Logan chimes in from the phone, and you roll over enough to glare at him. “Did you take all your meds, mouse?”

“Unfortunately, yes. So I’m afraid you’ll just have to put me down at this point—”

You don’t even have time to respond as Oscar cuffs your ear. You let out a dramatic whine, actually letting yourself act on your instinctual noises. Nothing hurts, of course. Oscar’s always been gentle, making sure nothing actually hurts when he wrestles with you or cuffs your ears.

“Did you have to get my bad ear?” You whine, looking accusingly at the Aussie who just grins down at you, cuffing the same ear once again. “I’m gonna tell Lewis.”

“He doesn’t scare me, and besides, he’d probably agree with me! All, ‘C’mon, Mousey, that’s not how your therapist said to cope with your trauma—”

“That’s a bit scary, how accurate that was,” You prop yourself up to glare at your dear friend, only to smile broadly at him. You can’t help it, really. He manages to make you smile, even when you feel like shit. And even when he cuffs your bad ear by mistake, after swearing he won’t do it again.

In truth, the ear looks almost melted. It’s usually carefully hidden by your personal stylist, with hair masterfully combed over it. The skin around it— luckily missing your scalp— was mottled and pink. What was left of your ear was little more than a small ridge of skin and cartilage at this point, and was much the same in your canine appearance, just more dramatic without all the fur. The upper half of your ear was utterly gone, along with most of the lobe. It was the ear you were deaf in.

“Can it even hurt if you’re deaf?”

“Yeah! Doesn’t mean it’s gone numb to the feeling,” you pout, looking at him as he sets his chin on your shoulder. Logan giggles from FaceTime. He’s set up somewhere, Williams blue all around him that makes you avert your gaze but continue talking to him nonetheless. “Ugh. Logan, I almost killed Lando.”

“She threw a can of Red Bull at him,” Oscar clarifies, to his rather shocked-looking boyfriend and courting partner. To his credit, it takes a few seconds before Logan starts to cackle.

“It was empty!” You protest back, but there’s a wide smile on your face as you hazard a glance at your former partner. “He was being a little bitch!”

“Should I be offended I didn’t get the same treatment my first day?” Logan’s voice crackles and his face is frozen on the screen with a mix of a confused look and smirk, before serenading both of you with a jumbled, robotic mess before the call abruptly ends.

“Stupid wifi,” Oscar mumbles, pulling the phone away to text his boyfriend to see what happened. You just settle back into your side of the nest, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off while Oscar’s comforting scent wafts over in you waves. You could just about fall asleep when there’s a gentle knock at the door, followed by Andrea poking his head in.

He blinks at the two of you. You blink back at him, already knowing you won't be able to take a much-needed like you had originally planned.

“Ah! Ms Lauda— can I speak with you for a second?”

“Can I do it from here?” you try to press yourself deeper into Oscar’s nest. You’d need to find a place to make one here— a nice, private room. Somewhere you can easily reapply your scent blockers and can fully surrender to your instincts until you were comfortable with more people knowing about your designation. “Took off my blockers.”

“Of course. I just wanted to check in, make sure everything was alright after… how the meeting went.”

There’s a hearty pause. As if he can tell you’re thinking over your words carefully.

“It certainly… went.”

“Ah. And… no other comments?”

“I meant what I said. You baby Lando.” You shift slightly. Tiredly. Giving the team principal the trademark Lauda stare from where you’re comfortably curled into the nest. So soft, yet so harsh at the same time.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here to fix that,” Andrea smiles politely at you, and ducks out of the room without another word. You just settle deeper into Oscar’s nest, wondering what in the hell you’d gotten yourself into. The only thing on your mind when you finally manage to fall asleep is how much you miss your mother's fresh peach cobbler.

tags: @the-holy-trinity-l @laura-naruto-fan1998 @amalialeclerc @st0rmzi3 @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @seonghwaexile @mrsmelinda

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader

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thewritetofreespeech · 6 months ago

Text

Gale x Tav

words: 811

rating: G

summary: basically there are too many things about Gale being 'the perfect husband' and having 'the perfect marriage with him', but even the best couples have bad days and fight.

----------------------------------🟣---------------------------------------

It’s been hours. And the two of you still hadn’t talked.

You pull the covers tighter around your body. Surely a pseudo comforting mechanism to make up for the phantom cold you were feeling. It was an emotional chill, not physical. This might be the first night in a long while that you might go to bed alone, and it’s certainly the first night in a while you aren’t going exactly willingly.

You and Gale had a huge fight. You can’t even remember what started it exactly. It was something small. Simple. Yet it seemed neither one of you were willing to get over your mole hill and now there was a chasm between your two mountains.

Playing the fight over in your mind, you were trying to figure out where you went wrong….

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous!” You snap back at Gale. “Ridiculous. Yes. I’m being ridiculous because I asked you to help out in your own house.”

“And I said I would get to it later!” Gale snapped back. He rubbed his temples with his hand across his eyes. “Gods above, would it kill you to have a little patience from time to time??”

“Perhaps. If we had it your way we’d still be on that beach by the nautiloid for how long your ‘laters’ take.”

Your husband glared at you. “Insulting my character. My, what a fine fall we’ve made for decorum in this house.”

“I’m not insulting your character, Gale. But what about you! You just called me ridiculous and that’s not insulting my character?!”

“It’s not insulting your character if it’s true! And you’re being ridiculous!”

It had all gone downhill from there. More insults. More backbiting. You both said things you didn’t mean, like you saying you should have stayed in the Gate if this was how things were going to be and Gale wishing he still had his orb because it seemed the only way to get out of this conversation.

He had taken off not long after that with an “I’m done” and stalked off to some remote, quite corner of the tower to cool off. You hadn’t seen him since.

Now that the fight was over, and night was closing in, you wished you could talk to apologize. But you didn't want to be the one to go to him. You didn't want to 'lose'. Which you knew was toxic and childish, but you couldn't help the way you felt.

So, that never happened and for the first night in a long while that you go to bed alone. Quiet tears on your pillow.

The next morning you wake up. Face puffy. Eyes red. No real sleep to call your own, so you went downstairs to get coffee.

You find Gale already there. His own cup in his hand. Looking equally disheveled and un-well rested. But, and most importantly, another cup across the counter in front of him. It’s steam wafting up from the mug so you knew it was fresh. Cautiously, you move to the counter and take it. “Are we still fighting?”

“Do you want to keep fighting?” Gale asked back. Not trying to instigate the fight again, but gauge your commitment to continue it.

“No. I don’t.” You sip your coffee carefully. Even though you’re fighting, it was still perfect. “Where did you sleep?”

“In my study.” There is an ornate couch in there. Leather. Expensive. More of an art piece than a comfortable piece of furniture. His lack of sleep may just be from trying to sleep on that rather than the tossing & turning you did last night. “I didn’t think you’d want me.”

“You could have come to bed.”

You probably wouldn’t have talked, and it would still be ‘cold’, but it was still his bed too. “I don’t like it when we fight.”

“It’s not my ideal way to spend an evening either, my love.” Though he said it his ‘my love’ doesn’t have the same warmth in it it normally does. “Look…I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“I’m sorry too.” You apologize back. “I didn’t mean to….”

“We both said things we didn’t mean.”

The two of you sip your respective coffees. Not really sure where to go from here. Yes, you apologized. The fight was over. But apologies weren’t like the incantations Gale threw around all the time. They weren’t actually magic words to make all the hurt you felt a moment ago go away.

“Do you want a hug?”

He didn't say anything, but Gale sat down his coffee and came around the counter to you. You both wrap your arms around each other, but it’s awkward. Stiff. There is love between you in the hug, but that chasm you built last night was making it harder to each one another. It would fill. You both would mend. But for now it was just going to be a little uncomfortable around the house.

The two of you separate and go back to your coffees. Sticking to safe topics like what you would like for breakfast. Hopefully you couldn’t disagree to harshly on that.

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sea-lanterns · 1 year ago

Text

SCREAM

synopsis: (slasher! AU) your creepy telephone stalker decides to pay you a visit.

featuring: kuki shinobu

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, blood, stalking, mentions of murder(s), kn.ives, home invasion, oral (reader recieving), tongu.e play, c.lit stimulation, slight fin.gering, tongue kissing, manhandling, hair pulling, kitchen counter se.x, may be ooc.

art credits: pumpkin night

“No, I don’t want to go to tonight’s party.”

“Wha—? But you never go…!”

You twirled the spiral cord connected to your telephone out of boredom, rolling your eyes at your friend’s desperate pleas, as she tried to get you to attend tonight’s college party to try and get you out of your shell. You weren’t much of a party girl if you had to be honest, as loud music, drunk people, and obnoxious sex did not sound like a fun time to you no matter how “exciting” your friends may phrase it.

“I don’t want to smell sweat and alcohol while I’m there…” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Besides, we have midterms coming up. I have to study or my GPA will drop.”

“Ugh, you’re such a buzzkill!” Your friend huffs over the phone. “Midterms don’t even start until next week, you have all weekend to study!”

You let out a sigh and made a fake “bzzzt” noise with your mouth.

“Oh no, you’re breaking up…” you mumble sarcastically, staring up at the ceiling.

“What? No! You’re just making that sound with your mou—”

“Oh god the connection is really bad. Sorry, I think I have to hang up.”

“You little—”

You slammed the phone back on the receiver before she could get another word in, tiredly making your way over to the couch and face planting right into the cushions due to exhaustion. It had been a long day of classes for you, and since it was only a Friday, you decided it would be best to rest up and maybe watch a movie before studying for your exams.

Grabbing the remote to the TV, you flipped it on and began mindlessly scrolling through channels before a particularly interesting horror movie caught your eye. “Oh…neat.” You sat up on the couch and watched as the hit horror movie film: Nightmare on Elm Street began playing while you settled down to get comfortable.

‘This is already going way better than going to that party…’ you thought to yourself, before deciding to get up and make something to eat while you waited for the intro to be done. You had the whole house to yourself due to your parents being out of town, so every snack and food item in the kitchen was all yours for the taking without any repercussions. A giddy smile was on your face, as you began grabbing bowls from the cupboard to pour some of your favorite chips as a snack, usually unable to do this since you weren’t allowed to snack so late at night.

As you began pouring the chips into the bowl however, the landline rang again and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of annoyance. Your best friend had a habit of calling you at the most inconvenient times, so you quickly washed up your hands and grabbed the phone a bit snarkily.

“Hello?”

“I can’t believe you’re still not going!”

You groaned when she continued her little game of coercing you to go to the party, slamming the phone back down on the receiver before grabbing your bowl of chips and shoving a handful into your mouth. You had a habit of being unnecessarily sarcastic when people were starting to bother you, and while it did come off as rude, your friend should’ve known better as you’ve made your decline to her offer very, very clear.

Too tired to even get that upset, you set the bowl on the table in front of you before lying down on the couch to sulk. You watched the movie for maybe a few minutes —ten if you wanted to be specific— but ended up slowly dozing off since you were too tired from a long day of classes.

‘Just a short nap…’ you thought to yourself, feeling your eyelids droop before closing them shut. ‘I’ll get back to studying when I wake up…’

The last thing you heard before falling into unconsciousness was a shrill scream coming from the TV, and the light downpour of rain starting to occur outside…

You hoped your friend wouldn’t call you again.

You woke up to the sound of the telephone ringing and groaned before rolling off the couch to glance at the clock. The TV was still playing in the background, but as you looked up to check the time, you realized it was 2 am, about five hours from when the party started.

“Son of a…” the phone rang again and you hissed with irritation before scrambling to grab the phone.

“Are you serious?” You shouted into the line, clearly frustrated with your friend still trying to get you to come. “It is 2 am, why are you still asking me to go? Shouldn’t you be at home by this time?!”

The voice that greeted you over the line was not the voice you were expecting.

Instead, a deep, slightly husky, yet feminine voice chuckles over the other line and sighs. “Uhhh…I’m sorry?” You could hear the smile in her words. “I suppose it is pretty late, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, sweetie…”

The stranger’s voice sent shivers down your spine. It was so unbelievably sexy, and you found yourself accidentally blushing since you weren’t expecting such an attractive voice to greet you. “Oh…I’m sorry…” you say in a much softer tone. “My friend has been calling me all night, so I expected her when I answered the phone and it’s been driving me a bit crazy.”

“I like crazy.” The stranger responds with a throaty chuckle. “But you don’t sound that crazy to me…”

Your heartbeat began to pick up the more she spoke with you.

“Aha…well, that’s comforting I guess. But uh…I think you have the wrong number, I don’t really know who you are…?”

“No, I think I have the right number…” The stranger hums sweetly. “You sound like a sweet enough gal, care to talk to me for a little while longer?”

Several warning bells were going off in your head, but the sound of such a delightfully sweet and sexy voice kept you on your toes. You knew it was dangerous, you knew it was stupid, yet you couldn’t help but want to hear more, pressing on further to push a small conversation.

“Okay…what do you…wanna talk about?” You ask after some hesitance, unsure on how to approach this.

“You, doll.” The voice answers back, sending tingles down to your core.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Let’s start with some cheesy lil icebreakers, hm?” The stranger hums gravelly. “What’s your…favorite scary movie? Since it’s near Halloween and all.”

“…Oh.” You thought about it for some time, before coming up with a funny, yet witty answer.

“Uhhh, Matilda.”

“What?” The voice let out the huskiest laugh you’ve ever heard, making you blush as you pictured the woman behind the phone chuckling at your joke. “That’s not a scary movie,” the stranger says once more. “You have to pick an actual horror film.”

“Matilda is a horror movie.” You argued back, a playful laugh coming out of your mouth. “That scene where the principal was chasing them throughout the house gave me anxiety.”

“Heh, fair, fair…” the voice hums with amusement. “No but seriously, what is your actual favorite horror movie, doll?”

“Why do you wanna know?” You tease playfully, coiling the wire of the phone around your finger.

“Well, mostly because…” the sexy voice suddenly grew even lower, dropping an octave until you could barely hear what they said. “I wanna get to know the person I’m looking at.”

Your heart slowly sank when that sentence was uttered over the other line, blood running cold as you quietly processed what the person just said.

“…Wh…What?”

“I must admit, I was a bit sad when I didn’t see you at tonight’s big party…” the voice continued to say, nonchalant to how creepy they were sounding the more they spoke into the phone. “Maybe it’s for the best, however. I wouldn’t want your pretty lil eyes to witness such a bloody and messy massacre…”

Your throat clogged up and you couldn’t help but pull the phone away from your face.

“That…That isn’t funny.” You say with a scowl, your face turning hot with anger as you glared at the phone in front of you. “Haha funny prank. You can hang up now you stupid prankster.”

“Awww, babygirl I’m hurt…” the voice spoke in mock sympathy, “You really think I would play a sick trick on a girl like you? I’m not that heartless…” Their voice toned down to a whisper, the smirk barely covered up in their speech as they groaned. “Though, if I’m not pranking you, that must mean everything is true, hmm?”

Your eyes widened and you realized you have yet to receive a phone call from your friend at the party. You assumed it was still ongoing, but..

“You— You’re such a sicko! Don’t joke about things like that!”

“It’s not a joke, doll,” The voice chuckles back. “I wonder if you were friends with that one blonde girl I killed. About five foot four, wore a sexy devil costume, and screamed like bloody murder when I plunged my knife into her chest.”

The way they laughed as you stood there in shock did not help the fear rising in your throat, as the stranger had just described your friend who kept begging for you to go to the party with her. They got every single detail right, and you were starting to slowly realize that the “sexy stranger” over the phone was actually a slaughtering serial killer in disguise.

“Oh, oh my god…” you covered up your mouth and accidentally dropped the phone, the cord of the line stopping it from falling as it dangled a few inches off the ground like a bungee swing.

“Oooh, you shouldn’t drop telephones, sweet thing…” the stranger spoke again, causing you to panic as they knew what you were doing.

“Leave…me…alone!”

You scrambled to slam the phone back onto the receiver, but a sharp voice suddenly shouted from the other line.

“Don’t you dare hang up!” The woman’s voice erupted, causing you to wince and drop it back from your hands. “Ugh…I’m sorry for yelling. I just wanted to play a game with you, that’s all…”

“What game? What game could you possibly want to play with me?!” You exclaim fearfully, quickly backing up into the counter.

“An easy one.” The voice speaks again, a growl practically escaping their throat, “I want to play hide and seek.”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of hide and seek, hands grasping for a kitchen knife as a makeshift use for a weapon.

“I think you’re familiar with the rules. I hide, and you try to find me…” the stranger hums with delight. “So I’ll give you a hint, sweet girl. I’m inside the house.”

You squealed at those last words and bolted for the back door of the kitchen, fumbling with the door handle to leave before a firm, athletic body suddenly pressed up against your back, pinning you to the door.

“H-Hey!”

You tried swiping the kitchen knife back to stab at your oppressor, but it was no use. A strong hand grips your wrist and you soon find out that your mysterious phone killer was no ordinary killer, as she was very strong.

“That’s enough of that.” The familiar voice purrs into your ear, that seductive, gravelly voice causing you to freeze as she quickly pins your arms above your head and wrestles the knife out of your hand.

“Stop! Let me go!” You screamed and tried squirming out of their grip, but was met with their body pressing further against your behind. The curves of a feminine figure pinning you to the door, while you slowly started to feel the pressure of an oncoming panic attack in your throat.

“Shhh…shhh, no crying…” the mysterious killer hums with delight, a plastic ghost-face mask pressing up against your shoulder and making you wince with fear. “Please…please don’t kill me…” you began trembling under their grasp, too paralyzed with fear to move. “I don’t wanna die…I’m sorry…I just wanted to stay home…”

“Shhhhh…No need for tears…” her voice mumbled huskily, the smell of blood and iron filling your nose as they waved their blood-stained knife near your face. “Unless, you want me to clean them up for you?”

“No…please…” you squeezed your eyes shut, too scared to open them as you prepared your final moments.

“…Awww, okay.” You suddenly feel a slight decrease in pressure as the hand of the killer moves up to remove the mask. “What about now?”

It took several seconds of heavy breathing and whimpers to find the courage, but eventually you timidly opened your eyes before landing on a way too familiar face.

“Sh-Shinobu…?”

“Hey doll.”

She smirked nonchalantly at you and winked. Shinobu was a classmate of yours, your campus crush if you had to be honest. She always sat in the back of lectures, yet whenever you two would accidentally meet eyes, she would always wink and lick her lips seductively, always causing your heart to flutter.

“I…I don’t understand.” You say in a shaky voice, unsure of your conflicting feelings.

“Mmm, well you don’t need to.” Shinobu purrs. “I’m Ghostface. I’m the one you were talking to over the phone.”

“Th-That was you?!” You exclaimed fearfully.

“Mhm…honestly, I was a bit upset you didn’t realize it was me all along,” she chuckles. “I thought you’d recognize my raspy and seductive voice, hmm?”

Despite how much fear you had, you couldn’t help but grow slightly aroused with the way she was whispering into your ear. Even if your crush was revealed to be an insane, masked serial killer, you couldn’t deny the heat pouring through your veins the more she spoke sweet nothings like the regular.

“…I can’t…I can’t believe…” you were so distraught you couldn’t find the words.

“Awe…that’s okay, sweet thing.” Shinobu whispers in a hot and heavy tone.

“Allow me to help you believe.”

She gently presses a small kiss to your earlobe and slides her long tongue out to lick the shell of it. The warm muscle causes you to flinch for a moment, before a pool of arousal starts warming at your lower regions.

‘God…what am I doing?!’ Your mind screamed with instinct, body trembling with fearousal as Shinobu continued to lick and suck your ear before traveling her hands around your body.

“Honestly, I had hoped to see you at the party tonight, but this is much better…” She purrs before catching you by the waist and squeezing a gloved hand over your thigh. “I get to have you all to myself in this giant house of yours…”

She presses another kiss to your cheek and catches the small whimper that leaves your throat.

“Awe, I knew you would be enjoying this…” Shinobu chuckles with delight. “Naughty, naughty girl…”

“Oh, shut up…!” You winced when she suddenly grabbed your waist and spun you around, your face now facing hers as she leans in to press a dominating kiss against your lips.

“Tch, no respect at all.” She growls before sliding her warm tongue into your mouth. She notes the way your legs close as you instinctively grip her shoulders for support, loving the way you latched onto her as she French-kissed you against the door of your kitchen. ‘She could deny it all she wants, but she knows she’s all mine…’

After a few brief moments of kissing, Shinobu lets you breathe for a moment before wrapping her arms around your waist.

“C’mon, it’ll be easier on the kitchen counter.”

“Wh-Wha— AH!”

Despite how small and thin she looked, Shinobu hoisted you up with ease and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around her. For such a petite woman, she was very strong, and she lifted you up on the counter to get you at the preferred height she wanted.

“There we go…” She licked her lips at the sight and you felt another pulse of heat dive down at your core. “Any objections before we continue?”

That voice. That damned sexy voice. You were practically wet just hearing her voice in person, growing aroused ever since she was flirting with you over the phone. You wanted to curse yourself for getting so turned on, but at this point you just wanted to be fucked.

Even if it meant getting eaten out by a ghost-face wearing serial killer.

“Just…hurry up…” you groaned, already angry with yourself for getting so worked up.

“Tch, is that how you ask for things, princess?” Shinobu scoffs with fake annoyance. “I thought you knew better…”

With that, she suddenly yanks your pajama pants off and the action has you squealing with surprise. Your legs are immediately exposed to the cold, open air, and Shinobu makes it a quick move to push your thighs apart with her hands. “Ugh…fuck…” you hear her grumble under her breath, her cheeks growing red as she stares at your underwear in such a perfect view. “Cotton? Interesting, I thought you’d be a lace kinda girl.”

“I was staying at home.” You gritted through your teeth. “Who wears fancy lace panties when staying home alone?”

“Fair point.” Shinobu chuckles, giving you another kiss before moving her fingers down into the band of your underwear. Feeling two calloused fingers rubbing at your clit was not what you’d be expecting spending a Friday night all alone, yet you can’t say you didn’t enjoy it as Shinobu was a master at rubbing her fingers around your folds till they were soaking wet with precum.

“O-Oh…god…” you whimpered out breathlessly, Shinobu pressing you further into the counter as she began pistoning her fingers at a steady pace to get you ready. “You always seemed to like staring at my tongue,” She purred in a gravelly tone, “I don’t blame ya, it’s pretty long if I do say so myself…”

As if to make a point, she playfully sticks out her tongue and your face just flushes at the sight. It looked so inhumanly long, yet your body couldn’t help but crave for it to be deep inside you, tasting you like you were its last meal ready to be devoured.

You knew you weren’t the only one thinking this either. Shinobu was thinking of all the ways she could taste you, stuffing her tongue as deep as it would go and savoring the sweet essence that drips down your thigh with each sharp piston of her fingers. She was practically drooling, eyes locked on the feeling of how wet you were before finally pulling her hands away to taste.

“Mm…seems wet enough already…”

She sticks the two fingers into her mouth to suck and instantly groans at the sensation. Her long tongue slowly licked up the juices coating her fingers, before letting go with a wet ‘pop!’ Having throughout enjoyed herself with the tiny sample you offered her.

“Absolutely sensational…” she mumbles into your ear. “Allow me to have the full course?”

She doesn’t wait for you to respond before taking the sharp end of her knife and slicing your panties off in one, professional swipe. “H-Hah!” You flinched when she did it so quickly and started breathing heavily out of shock, mildly amusing Shinobu with your reaction.

“Pfft. Relax, sweetheart.” Shinobu purrs with nonchalance. “I’m a professional, you trust professionals, right?”

She peels off the remaining tatters of your underwear and smirks at the sight of your bare, exposed pussy glimmering under your kitchen light. Shinobu could hardly contain herself as she instantly crouched down on her knees to kiss your clit, sending jolts of nerves to your stomach, and making you squirm with delight.

“Ohh, the princess likes that, doesn’t she?” She chuckles in a mocking way, using her two front teeth to gently nibble on the clit and force a burst of ecstasy from the way she was teasing you.

“Ah—! Shinobu…” your hands reached down to tug at her green hair.

“Ah ah ah…” she gives a slow, sensual lick up your folds and you wince when you feel the tip of her tongue flick at your clit. “No hair pulling, sweet girl…”

She continues running her tongue up and down your cunt before slowly pushing the tip of it deeper into your twitching hole. You let out a gasp as she began eating you out excitedly, sliding her long, lithe tongue in and out of you before beginning to thrust lightly with the muscle.

You didn’t expect her to be so good. Shinobu’s tongue play unlike any other girl you’ve been with as her tongue was just so fucking long. Long, flexible, and hot as it pumps against your walls like a starved man finally drinking some water for the very first time.

‘Fucking hell…she tastes so good…’ Was all Shinobu could think as she slowly became pussy drunk off the taste of you alone. Too busy thinking about how many times she could get you to cum on her face, before you passed out out of exhaustion.

“Shinobu I can’t— nngh…” you wrapped your legs around her head and pushed her even closer, trembling from the stimulation as the rough texture of her tongue continued to thrust into your walls. Things were starting to take it up a notch, as Shinobu suddenly gripped your thighs tightly before speeding up her movements to feel even more.

The moans you let out were music to her ears, eyes squeezed shut as she continued sliding the warm muscle at a speed you didn’t even think was possible. (It was, Shinobu was just really, really good) The increase in pressure had you whimpering the more she thrusted, and pretty soon, you were starting to feel a coiling sensation occur the faster she moved her tongue.

“Hnnn…Shinobu…” you whimpered out pathetically, thighs twitching for your release as you gripped her hair even tighter. “You should pull away, it feels too t-tight…”

“Mm? That’s perfect then…” she groaned in an almost predatory way. “Just go ahead and scream for me…!

And scream you did, as you threw your head back and climaxed all over Shinobu’s face who licked up all the cum that leaked out. You were too much of a panting mess to notice the way she cleaned your thighs and cunt with her tongue, but the sensitivity of being “cleaned up” after such an intense round had your vision clouding over with adrenaline crash and exhaustion.

“Oh…my princess tastes so good…” Shinobu groans, standing up to kiss you so that you could taste your cum on her lips. “Exhausted already? Well, I suppose it is pretty late…”

She chuckles darkly at the way your eyes droop over like a sleepy puppy, gently scooping you up into your arms to carry you up to your bedroom.

“Bedtime for my baby…” She hums in that raspy voice of hers, climbing up the steps before kissing the temple of your forehead.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to make you scream louder once you wake up.”

#kuki shinobu smut #kuki shinobu x reader #shinobu smut #shinobu x reader #slasher au #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin women smut #genshin women x reader #genshin imagines

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jeaanmoreau · 2 months ago

Text

[kevjean] broken things

OH HI HELLO so i read this post by @toofkin and immediately had to do this. does this count as my first aftg proper oneshot ??? also my little multishipper jerejean heart was protesting the entire time that i wasn't making this about them 📚 read it on ao3

They walked into the study for privacy, shutting the door behind them and Jean headed straight for his desk, pausing only when he reached it, stomach plummetting.

The magnets from his desk drawer were laid out in a line on the wooden surface, painstakingly pieced back together, every missing piece had been replaced with ceramic that had been painted gold. They looked like that Japanese art and they made Jean's throat constrict as his eyes dropped to the note next to them in Jeremy's now-familiar scrawl: 'Read something about Kintsugi and how broken things are not something to hide but to display with pride. Well done with the interview.'

And like a shadow he couldn't ever leave behind, the voice at his shoulder was quiet with amazement, "You kept these?"

Jean wanted to throw them in the trash and kiss every single one and he wanted to crumple up Jeremy's note or kiss that, too. He was overwhelmed and overstimulated and out of breath as he refused to look back to Kevin's stoic curiosity. "You know as well as I do it's not like I owned much else." His voice was tense, sharp, defensive.

It was more than that, and he thought Kevin once knew that too, maybe. There'd been intention in the way he'd pressed each and every single one into his palm on his returns. A promise imbued in the figurines. They had meant everything to him, and they too had been destroyed in the wake of the two people hell bent on making his life miserable with their rash, mindless actions.

Everything had crumbled around them. The interview had been a nightmare and Jean hated how much reassurance he'd felt having Kevin beside him How at ease he seemed in front of cameras and microphones and how broken it made him seem standing next to him. Hated how much it had always felt like that, time and again, like his nightmares could be kept at bay as long as Kevin was there. Until he hadn't been.

A scarred hand reached into his line of vision and picked up one of the magnets, turning it this way and that. Heart at his throat, Jean snatched at Kevin's wrist, shoving it back down against the desk as he turned around to face him, ice in his veins.

Kevin's expression was indescipherable as he loosened his hold and let the magnet clatter softly out of his reach.

"Jeremy is kind."

"Don't."

Kevin had the decency to drop it, though his eyes didn't waver off his face. His gaze had always felt intense and unbreakable on him, and Jean was more often than not the one to break. This time he held his chin up, defiant.

At last, Kevin blew out a breath and said, "It's better this way. We're in the clear and Edgar Allan will start over. The rest of them will learn, and we'll be okay."

His conviction ought to have been more contagious, but Jean had had a skeptical nature beaten into him for too long to let himself be wooed by optimistic hopes. He prodded at the relief in Kevin's tone. "Is this how you assuage your guilt? You think this undoes the rest of it?"

That at least seemed to crack through Kevin's facade. "I already apologised."

Jean laughed. It was humourless and short. To think that one 'I'm sorry', no matter how sincere he believed it to be, could make up for what Kevin had done to him was laughable. Everything about this was laughable and he wanted to stay far, far away from it. The urge to walk out of the room pressed at him. "It's not enough."

"What would be?" Kevin asked instead, quiet and determined.

"Nothing," Jean snapped back. "You'll just have to live with it the way I do." And it was rich, really, that Kevin wanted to get rid of all the ugliness that tainted their history just like that.

"I had to," was the response he got, urgent and hushed and charged with the usual kind of tense emotion in Kevin's tone. "You must understand that. No one was dragging me out of there—"

"I didn't ask for that!" Jean cut him off, eyes flashing as his blood boiled and he pushed away thoughts of rainbow hair and kind, understanding silences.

Kevin was unfazed. "No, I asked it for you. I found someone to get through to you because I knew you were never going to listen to me. You still don't listen to me."

A choked off sound almost escaped Jean's lips, and he lifted his hands up to his chest, neck, dragged his fingers over his face. Warm fingers wrapped around his wrists almost immediately and pulled his hands down firmly and he resolutely looked over Kevin's shoulder.

"Jean," was the insistent word that cut through his racing thoughts. "I'm sorry. I am. I've hated myself for leaving you behind like that. I didn't know what else to do. You were never going to leave with me—"

"You could have asked."

It cut through the tension, surprising enough that Kevin's hands loosened on his wrists again, and he stared back at him. Jean regretted it immediately. The way words left his lips unbidden were going to be the death of him. He didn't even know how much of that was true. Even if Kevin had asked, could he really say he would have gone with him? Betrayed everything he believed in for a chance at... No. Sucking in a sharp breath, he fixed his stare on the wall. "Everything I did, I did for you. You trampled on that when—"

"Why?" Kevin asked, frustration creeping into his voice at last, and Jean ought to have felt some satisfaction in that, except he didn't. "You had as much right as I did to protect yourself—"

"It was supposed to be us against him. Our pact. Our secret. I trusted you with everything I had and you spat in my fucking face."

"That's not—"

But Jean was incensed too, finally drawing his gaze back to glare at the boy in front of him. "And I fucking took it. I took it all so you wouldn't have to."

Kevin was staring at him like he was written in glyphs he didn't understand. "Why?"

And another choked off laugh barely escaped before he shouted, unbidden and uncalled for, "BECAUSE I LOVED YOU!" The words rang at Kevin's face, the tension in the air shattering between them like shards of glass that turned in and pierced his heart through a hundred times. Breath escaped him and for a split second, Jean thought he would die, that it would simply never come back and he would choke on the words that had wrecked their way through his deepest secrets and into this moment.

If Jean hadn't been looking at him so intently, he would have missed the way Kevin's eyes widened imperceptibly before they softened again and his frown deepend and his gaze flickered between his own eyes—left, right, left, right, left—as he searched for something there or thoughts of his own raced in his head and he thought maybe Kevin also stopped breathing and maybe it was because all the air had been sucked out of the room without mercy.

Mercy had always been a pipe dream, anyway.

He dropped his gaze away from him as a shuddery breath rippled through his chest and his fingers curled into his palms, fingernails digging at the soft flesh there as his ears rang with the silence. It landed on the bear with the beret and the golden lines coursing through it and his chest clenched and clenched with pain he hadn't allowed himself to feel in what felt like years.

Then there was a hand on his chin pulling him back, and Jean had no choice but to look up at Kevin's face, that steely determination he was so used to seeing in his eyes and he wanted to take it all back and he wanted to yell at him and he wanted to shove him on a plane never to set foot in California again and he—

There was a split second that hung for longer than it should have as Jean watched Kevin's eyes drop to his mouth and then the air between them collapsed as Kevin stepped up and crashed his mouth against his.

It was so unexpected, so nothing at all like what Jean had ever convinced himself would happen between them that it took him a moment to recover. He was frozen, heart at his throat, beating so hard he thought he would throw it up as everything came rushing back and out.

Another broken inhale shook his shoulders and Kevin pulled back, hands on his face to search his expression. "...was that okay? I didn't—"

Jean's breath left him again as he unlocked his fists and grasped at the front of Kevin's shirt to yank him forward again and kiss him again. Kiss him properly, with every intention he'd ever harboured and the permission he'd been granted and the avalanche of hearbreak and misery and battered hope that clung to every feeling he'd ever had about the boy in front of him. Kevin kissed him back, hands gripping at his face, sliding into his hair, holding him in place as every whisper in dark corners and every shared look and every ounce of pain they'd suffered together and alongside each other and because of each other twisted up into this one desperate moment.

"I'm here," Kevin whispered against his lips in French, breathless too in a way that made Jean's head dizzy. "We're here. Let me be enough now." He swallowed. "Please."

Jean's fingers twisted in Kevin's shirt, he pressed his nose deep into his cheek, threw himself in headfirst once more, and nodded.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #aftg fic #aftg tsc #tsc #the sunshine court #all for the game #kevjean #jean moreau #kevin day #jeremy knox #writing #writing: aftg

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descendantsramblings · 3 months ago

Note

I love warm greens fic would you think of doing a part 2 ?

I love them, absolutely I can, sorry this took a minute I didn’t wanna skip too far ahead ❤️It was so fun getting to build the other villains into her friends from being her sister's bullies. I love this little universe so much. That being said, after this I think I am done with these two characters, they have 11,600 words together, I am done with Morgie’s Hearts!GF.

This is a prequel to my story "Warm Greens" which you can find here.

Also I've done some weirddddd things to the lore to make this work, I understand that the Jack of Diamonds is he head guard in the movie and we're all just going to pretend that he's somehow related to the queen so that I may refer to the reader as the princess of diamonds as to use the other red symbol on a deck of cards to draw a tie between the sisters. Thank youuuu.

Cool Reds

Morgie le Fay x Hearts! Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: She would do whatever it took to keep him, wouldn’t she?

Warnings: Make out scene mentions, swearing, mentions of feeling nauseated/sick from anxieties, crying, use of the looking glass, betrayal of trust, references to Greek mythology (but the lore of the myths is a little off due to time since I read them + Disney)

Word count: 9.2K

Have I used this gif already? I have no idea, anyway

Everything about Morgie le Fay was down right intoxicating. His mere existence in the same room as her was enough to light her every sense on fire. She was absolutely love drunk, barely swimming through the chalice of his affections and not caring if she drowned in them. How could she ever care about her ability to sink or swim when his lip balm was vanilla and his hands were so soft and his cologne could hang to her clothes for days from just a few hours of him holding her. How could she ever think about anything but him when the scent of him was on the collar of her shirt from just hugging him and the ghost of wind on her neck felt like his fingertips? What was she meant to do about all this love when bites of cupcakes tasted like kissing him until her lips were numb? He was wrapped around her every waking thought like her entire purpose in leaving Wonderland was to find him. So what was she meant to do when Hook and Uliana found them out?

What else could the girl do but agree to whatever it took to keep those vanilla lips and cold hands? They knew better than making out anywhere but her dorm. She didn’t have a roommate, her room was safe, villains have eyes on every fly on the wall. But her room held no flies, it was their sanctuary, the only place they could be close without needing an excuse. Studying could be explained away, them both deciding to go swimming at the enchanted lake could happen by chance. Them both coming back from a new coffee shop or restaurant just mere minutes after each other just had to be a coincidence because why would Wonderland’s finest ever be seen out with a sorcerer of the dark arts?

But there was no way to explain this though. You can’t explain away hair that’s been mussed up by grabby hands that got a touch too adventurous. There was no valid reason that Morgie le Fay’s rings should be pressed into (Y/n)’s ribs from under her soft red top. Those kiss-bruised lips and flushed faces being so close could only mean one thing. And by god were they never going to hear the end of it.

That corner of the library was meant to be safe, no one ever came back there but them. In the past four months no one had interrupted them even once. It should have been a safe and quiet place for their little study break. But all good things must come to an end. Of course they must, the sons of villains aren’t meant to have good things. Morgie should have known that from the moment that bubbling girl made of red tinted moonlight fell into his arms. He wasn’t meant to have sweet meet cutes, the second he realized he’d have to hide her he should have ended it. She deserved to be seen with someone in broad daylight, not hide behind dorm doors and stacks of dusty old spell books. So whatever his friends had to throw at her, he’d take it like punches. He owed her that. If he could give her nothing else, he could do that.

“What have we here? A little scandalous little show, eh? Wonderland’s little princess isn’t the scholar she claims to be?” Hook’s face is unreadable, something that should be cocky and yet falls flat somewhere. Smirk as forced as his raised brow as he stands in front of them with crossed arms, the tip of his hook resting between his teeth. “Just taking a little break,” she hums, and though she should untangle herself from Morgie, she doesn’t. (Y/n) grabs his fleeting hand as it tries to abandon her bare side; holding it gently as she rubs the back of it with her thumb. So confident and relaxed, as if there aren't two villains looking her over with the intensity of a predator stalking prey. “Oh really? No one told me that you took your breaks with villains,” Hook leans down with that forced smile, “When’s my turn, huh?” Her eyes are half lidded, leaning up so their faces are only a few inches apart and Morgie’s heart nearly stops in his chest. Hook can’t take this from him, this is the first good thing that Morgie le Fay has ever had. Hook gets everything he wants, why can’t this just be Morgie’s thing? His one good thing. He will not let them take her from him, he’s sure of that. Hazel eyes stay locked on her lips, listening far too intently. “You won’t get one, Cap. I only kiss villains who are actually attractive.”

Her words make the pirate stumble back and Morgie bites his swollen bottom lip to hold in a laugh. That’s his girl, god, that’s his girl. “Well, then it seems you’re doing more than just taking a break, aren’t you? You think we’d be okay with that?” Uliana is looking (Y/n) over as if she’s trying to find something, seeming to be an odd mix of offended and proud. The last time Morgie saw her look at someone like that, Maleficent joined the group. Maybe this could be a good thing. He could only hope this would be a good thing. “You think I care if you’re okay with it?” Nope, not a good thing. Morgie was in for a long, long week. And potentially a break up, though he really didn’t want to lose either piece of this puzzle. “Oh,” Uliana draws the sound out on a laugh, “You are going to be so fun.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The next time (Y/n) sees Hook, he’s pressing the cool, dull side of his hook into the back of her neck, drawing a line down the part of her spine that her collar leaves uncovered as he tuts. “Princess,” it’s a coo, leaning over her shoulder as he speaks. Bodies so close you’d think that the two of them were thick as thieves. Across from the two Bridget is frozen, watching the pirate tease her sister with wide, terrified eyes. But (Y/n) just takes it, rolling her own eyes with a smirk, “Cap, running errands for your sea witch? I was hoping I meant enough that she would come see me herself.” The princess was a lot of things, but a fool -nor a coward- were titles that were on that list. No, she’d been waiting three days for this. When Uliana left their side in the library, she promised she’d be back with an idea of how she could “make it up to them” for “stealing Morgie from their schemes”. The princess didn’t assume the girl to be all talk, so this little charade came as no shock to her. Of course Uliana wouldn’t come on her own though, always sending Hook or Morgie to do her bidding. Perhaps, one of them was a coward. Whatever the girl had decided on, she could take it, she was positive of that. Morgie made her feel like she was floating, she’d hate to let her feet find the ground again when she’s been given a love like that.

“Uliana requests your presence, best not to keep her waiting,” he hums, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and forcing her to turn. “I’ll be back, Bridget. I’ll meet you in class?” She sends her sister a soft smile before turning back to the pirate wrapped around her shoulders, “So she figured out what my debt is, eh?” Though he tries to fight it, you can see the ghost of a smile fighting to replace the smirk on his face as he leads her away. (Y/n) was either the most confident person that he’s ever met or she was the best actor at Merlin Academy. He couldn’t quite read it either way and something about that made the girl so incredibly fascinating. Of course she was pretty, that was obvious, but if she always acts like this Hook can understand what made Morgie fall for her. He’s gently pushing her towards Uliana when they walk through the door, hoping the action looked rougher than it actually was. Smirk replacing his smile as he locks eyes with the excitable and impatient sea witch that stands in the middle of her dorm. This would be fun, by god this would be fun.

“Uli, Baby, Hook says you finally decided what you want with me? Took you longer than I thought you would,” she’s smirking as she refinds her footing. A soft, cold hand finds its way onto her shoulder as Morgie slinks up behind her and she fights to keep back the excited smile that begs to stretch across her face at his touch. This was the closest they’ve ever been to a public display of affection, it was impossibly hard not to bask in it. Uliana is raising a brow as she approaches them, “Oh did it? You were hoping I’d get to this faster, huh?” “Well, the faster we get this over with, the faster I can go back to making out with one of your lackeys, right?” Lips press against the top of her head as Morgie uses her hair to muffle his laughter. The feeling of it only eggs her on more, eyes growing ever so slightly more crazed. The sea witch before her lets out a cheap laugh, looking her over, “Yeah, something like that.”

A hand slinks up to rest on Morgie's, sparing him an adoring smile over her shoulder. “So, what’s my punishment, Uliana? I do have classes after this, can’t spend all day with the lot of you, dreadful for you I know.” A hand harshly comes out to grip her chin, holding the girl’s gaze on her as she speaks. “Well, we were thinking, since you affected one of our friendships, we should mess with one of yours, huh? An eye for an eye? Of course, you don’t have many friends so that precious sister of yours is going to have to do.” Bridget? Bridget doesn’t even know about (Y/n) and Morgie, she shouldn’t have to be brought into this. God she’d hate to know about the two of them at all. She doesn’t need this. But if that’s what it takes.

“What’s in it for me?” The words knock the smirk off of Uliana’s face, rendering the girl speechless. Hades and Maleficent become visible on her left as Hook takes her right side, proud smirks written across all three of their faces. This was a game to them, wasn’t it? She could handle that, (Y/n) likes games too. “Excuse you?” “What’s in it for me? I don’t see how bringing someone innocent into this is warranted unless I’m getting something out of it.” Uliana spares a look to Hades, the god only shrugging in response. “You get to keep Morgie, that’s what you get out of it! This is not a negotiation!” A giggle slips through the princess’ lips, turning around to look at her boyfriend. “What do you think, Baby? We went four months without them knowing, don’t you think we could pull off a fake break up and hide things better? No need to spare her feelings,” her hand slips up onto Morgie’s cheek as she speaks, the boy leaning into her touch as if it was magnetic. Adoring eyes flickering over her face as if he was suddenly unaware of the onlookers in the room. She was so pretty when she got all feisty, god he’d wanted to have her like this around his friends for so long. How bad would it be if Morgie just stole a quick kiss?

“That will not be happening,” Uliana’s voice is sharp, grabbing the girl’s shoulder to spin her back around. “Then it looks like this just turned into a negotiation, didn’t it, Uliana?” The girl huffs, glancing back to Hook who just shrugs in response. “What do you want out of it, then?” There’s this annoyed pout trying to hide the amusement that covers the girl in front of her and it makes (Y/n) smirk. “What do I want?” A hand comes out to dust Uliana’s shoulder as she mocks the question. “Yes, what do you want out of it? God, are you always like this?” A hum comes out of the princess’ lips, “Only with prey, darling, only with prey. See, Bridget might be a gentler soul, far more fit to rule, but me? Oh I can negotiate a prince out of his kingdom and into his own grave. You’re taking my two friends from me for what? A boy that I get to keep kissing in secret? That’s not a fair trade.”

Her eyes flicker to Hades and Maleficent, smirking as she looks them over. They’re so close, so public. This constantly visible and proud display of affection no matter where they find themselves. “I want to be able to act like them,” she justs her chin out towards the couple and Uliana’s eyes follow the motion. “Absolutely not, there is no way I’ll allow Morgie to be seen like that with someone who isn’t one of us,” her arms cross over her chest as she glares at (Y/n) and the princess’ smirk only grows. “Oh yeah, well then I guess you’re going to have to let me into your little gang, aren’t you, Uli?”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The villain’s hideout at the Black Lagoon is nothing like (Y/n) imagined, but the past three days have led her to realizing it was in no way bad. Actually, she was pretty comfortable there. It was darker than most places in Camelot, closer to the lighting of Wonderland’s sun than the one that shines here. Perhaps that’s why Uliana liked it here, surely the light rivals the refracted version the ocean offered, there had to be something comforting to the sea witch about that. And with the promise of four friends and the most attractive boy she ever laid eyes on coming with the hideout, she had to say she was more than a little excited to be able to come into it openly instead of sneaking about. It was almost time for that, all she had to do was succeed in this one little stunt. One that would finish frogging a relationship her hand had already begun to unravel; of course, isn’t that how she ended up here to begin with? She knew that with Bridget goes Ella too, but did the girl ever actually like (Y/n)? The princess was fairly certain she was dead weight from the moment she stepped out of the rabbit hole; she was ready to go back to being a valuable player like she was back home. Back where Bridget’s only purpose was to rule as a figure head, not nearly mad enough for the kingdom’s own good.

This would get her that, surely it would. So why did part of her feel so sick? Her organs twisting around themselves like snakes, dragging against her spine like it was a dagger. Eating her alive from the inside out in a way that she wasn’t used to feeling. This was a good thing, wasn’t it? She’d have Morgie, she’d get to have friends more like the ones she had back home than Ella ever could be. She’d be out from under her sister’s incredibly kind yet cautious gaze. Able to love openly, to be seen by people she’d watched with morbid fascination and curiosity. This would be a good thing. So, (Y/n) pulls her knees up to her stomach and lets her eyes flutter closed. Arms wrapping around her legs as her head falls to rest on top of them. Taking slow breaths in through her nose and letting them shakily leave her mouth. Hoping for anything that will soothe the sickness building up in her gut, this normally worked for her, didn’t it?

Just as she’s beginning to relax, she feels the presence of someone in front of her. The princess tells herself that it’s probably just Morgie coming to check in on her. Or perhaps Hook, the pirate had taken an odd liking to her in the last few days, always seeming to hover, this unreadable look stretched across his otherwise cocky features every time he looked at her. But two calloused and extremely warm hands come to rest on her exposed elbows. There was no way that was Morgie, his hands were far too smooth and cold, more like stone than flames. So (Y/n) spares the energy to look up, eyes flickering to light blue hair and a stoney expression that held a touch more concern than his normal sarcastic features.

In the four days that (Y/n) has been hanging around the gang of villains, Hades has found himself quickly growing rather fond of the silver tongued princess. She was a red tinted sunrise on the horizon. Someone he could easily understand taking up space in Morgie’s heart as she’d quickly come to claim a spot in his. Something about her reminded him of his years stuck in time. Of siblings he was once so fond of. She reminded him a touch too much of Demeter, a sliver of life and renewal. Drawn so easily to green and growth, with this small air of selfishness fueled by nothing but her emotional compass. So much like that younger sister of his that he wished he could get her out of this whole thing. The princess of Wonderland was far too much like the goddess of harvest and what they were asking her to do? That was far more aligned with the works of his brothers. Far closer to those drawn straws that he shared with Poseidon and Zues, giving herself the longer straw and taking Olympus for her own hand, casting Bridget to the Underworld, alone in the dark. Could she live with herself if she went through with such a thing? Could Hades live with himself if it destroyed this gift of red apples and bright green leaves?

So he sinks to her eye level once he knows he has her attention. Voice small and nearly adoring as he looks at her with the softest expression his features will allow. “Are you sure you can do this, (Y/n)?” She nods but the movement is barely visible, hardly believable. “Your face is starting to match Morgie’s shirt, Princess. There’s no shame in backing out of this.” With his words, the girl’s face hardens, legs falling from their pulled up position to cross before her. (Y/n)’s shoulders square back, her chin rises and she takes on this unmistakable air of confidence. The same look she had when she declared that she wanted to be able to act like himself and Maleficent, she’s making sure that the villains in the room can’t look down on her. And Hades hates to admit to it, but he respects it. “Don’t try to psych me out, Hades. You can’t scare me away,” the tone she held on Monday is there but there's something about it that’s missing. Perhaps it’s just that Morgie is hovering over a cauldron with his own girlfriend and Uliana instead of over her. Hades can’t be quite sure.

“I’d never,” he rubs his thumb over the side of her elbow as he talks, something about it seems to relax her. Good, at least he can give her that. “I just, listen (Y/n), I know what it feels like to have your sibling betray you. Bridget is your family and after this there is such a high chance that she will never forgive you again. Are you sure you want to take that risk over a boy?” Her red nail polish is stark against his pale skin as she lets a hand fall on top of his, a gentle smile on her lips. “Would you do it for Maleficent?” And Hades pauses, lip between his teeth. Of course he’d betray Zues, Hera, or Poseidon for Mali, he’d give the underworld for her. But if it was Hestia or Demeter, could he do it? Could Hades betray growth and warmth for love? “I would, a hundred times over.” Something about his words seem to melt away some of the anxiety resting in the princess’ face as she squeezes his hand. “Then yes, I’d do it for Morgie, but I get you guys out of the deal too. I think trading one friend who I can’t hold a conversation with for four friends I can actually talk to is more than a step up.” She moves her hands to rest on her back, pressing into it until Hades hears a harsh “pop”. “Anyway, it’s not like Bridget and I are close at home. She has no friends and I have friends she hates, may as well make school match it. Plus, she never quite forgave me for burning down the West Wing tower while I was arguing with our Mother.”

Her answer earns her the most joyous laugh the crew thinks they’ve ever heard come from Maleficent, the dark pixie bouncing up to them with bewilderment in her eyes. “You burned down part of your own castle? Out of spite?” (Y/n) smirks, leaning towards Maleficent with this proud look in her eyes, “Oh, that isn’t even half of it. You know what they say, we’re all a little mad in Wonderland.” “Oh you beautiful little pyro,” Maleficent gives her a smile, reaching out to tap a finger against the tip of her nose. It earns her a playful smirk, the princess’ eyes shining with this mischievous glint as the pixie’s hand recoils. (Y/n) dusts off her pants as Hades rises to his feet before her. Taking an outstretched hand from the god to pull herself up with a confident smile that only Morgie can tell is faker than Hook’s arrogance. “Now, I don’t have all night. If we want me to be able to get into that dorm and get her diary we better get started.”

As she makes her way to Morgie, the princess refuses to meet his eyes. Her confidence can only hold for so long and the sorcerer had grown to be able to read her like a book, even from across the room. He was worth it, by the gods he was worth it. But what if Hades had a point? What if she was throwing away a possibly salvageable relationship with her sister for nothing more than a fair weather boy? Of course, Morgie hasn’t given her a reason to feel that way, but there was always the lingering concern, wasn’t there? How often did high school sweethearts turn out to be soulmates? She twirls the ring on her left hand as she looks over the cauldron, the heart shaped stone brushing over the inside of her middle finger and her pinkie as a grounding force as she takes in the blush pink rose that waits at the bottom of the vast black cast iron. She needed to do something for herself while she was in Bridget’s room, there was one thing that could solidify this. She could always lie and say she couldn’t find the diary, back out and run for the hills if she found something that would change her mind, couldn’t she? (Y/n) leans into the new found warmth of Morgie’s arm around her shoulder, the chill of his fingertips against her bicep grounding her to the moment. This is it, isn’t it?

With a delicate brush of her fingers, Uliana lifts the soft rose from the bottom of the cauldron, smiling at the girl who was quickly proving herself to be quite a good asset to her team. “Now, you’ll have to be careful with this, the spell on it can only affect one person. Make sure Bridget pricks her finger on one of the thorns, it will knock her out for six hours. Little Miss. Sunshine will wake up tomorrow with a completely normal flower in her hands and think she just fell asleep, got it?” (Y/n) nods, taking a deep breath as she reaches forward for the rose, eyes locked onto the soft, pale petals. It took Maleficent and Uliana forever to decide on a way to get the spell into the overly preppy princess; her sister could not mess this up for them. “Hook, Hades, and Maleficent are going to be waiting on you down the hall from her dorm. Mali here will use a speed reading spell to find the best pages in the diary and make copies of them. Then you, Hook, and Hades are going to plaster the courtyard in the copies, I don’t want any of the cobblestone visible, understand me?” And she nods again, visibly seeming to understand her place in the group as a lackey already. Good.

Before the princess can reach out for the rose, Morgie’s fingers catch under her chin, drawing her face up to him. “We should kiss first, for good luck.” How could she ever question that? What could ever lead her away from his perfect pale pink lips? So she smiles, letting her hand find his cheek as if it were second nature for her. (Y/n) pulls the boy down softly against her lips, pecking them with the softest kiss her anxious form can muster. “You be safe,” he whispers against her lips, pulling away from them in the gentlest way he can before pressing another quick kiss to his lover’s forehead. And she nods with a tight lipped smile, watching as he reaches for the cursed rose.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Bridget’s dorm, much like her room back home, perfectly matches her. It’s almost a comforting sight to (Y/n)’s anxiously bouncing eyes. Or it would be if she didn’t know what she was here to do. The pink dorm room smells like strawberries and white chocolate, surely the scent comes from the little oven that waits patiently on a table in the girls room. The machine visibly on and letting out a soft hum as it bakes whatever it is her sister is making. Finally, as she forces them to stop bouncing, her eyes land on Bridget. Her bright pink hair is already done up in foam rollers at the top of her head, a magazine resting in her hands as she waits on whatever she’s baking to finish up so she can go to bed. (Y/n) fights to steady her hands as she approaches her sister, holding the rose carefully behind her back.

“Hey Bridge!” The gentle tone in her voice makes the girl lift her head, smiling at her with this nearly fond look on her face. “Everything okay?” No, it’s not. I am about to absolutely ruin you. “Yeah, I just went on a hike and I found the loveliest rose bush near the enchanted lake. The flowers made me think of you so,” she delicately pulls the bloom out from behind her back, offering it with a nervous smile to her always excitable sister. And just like she knew she would, Bridget bounces in her seat, reaching up for the pale pink flower with excited hands. (Y/n) drops her grip on the stem, barely avoiding a thorn as she lets it fall and Bridget’s hand circles around it, hissing slightly as one of the thick barbs jabs into the soft pad of her thumb. “Oh, ow,” she mumbles, readjusting the flower into her other hand so she can look at the prick point. It didn’t break skin, (Y/n) hopes it doesn’t have to for the spell to work. “Sorry, I should have warned you I didn’t take them off,” her voice is riddled with her anxiety and she can only hope that her sister can’t tell it’s not connected to the tiny flesh wound she’s earned.

Bridget shakes her head with a smile, letting the rose rest on the bed beside her, “No it’s okay! Really I should be more careful.” A yawn follows the words, big brown eyes slowly becoming harder to see through heavy eyelids. “I mean, why wouldn’t there be thorns on a rose, right?” She’s letting her eyes flutter closed, losing the fight to keep them open. And (Y/n) watches somewhere in between relief and horror as her sister slumps to her side on her bed, body nearly toppling over as her magazine hits the floor. She should feel awful, but some odd part of her relaxes, moving to adjust Bridget on the bed just like the pink girl had done for her a hundred times before when she’d come home after a touch too much fun. Gentle hands take the girls legs and pull them onto the bed, laying the soft pink fleece throw from the bottom of the bed over her tired form. The magazine being lifted up and placed onto the nightstand, the rose settling on top of it. Not that Bridget will want anything to do with the flower this time tomorrow, but the morning version of her would feel terrible if she were to step on it. (Y/n) knows this.

Quite frankly, (Y/n) knows her half-estranged sister a touch too well. Which is how she knows exactly where the white leather bound journal she bought her two Christmases ago will be sitting. The spine standing out stark and bare on her bookshelf between a copy of “Romeo and Juliet” and some enchanted pastries cookbook. It’s an invasion of privacy to even touch the thing, let alone to hand it over to her tormentors to use it against her. She’ll probably abandon the thing once and for all after this though, not the (Y/n) isn’t hyper aware of what type of things will be littering the pages. Things about how cute she thought Hook was when they first started school here, how she just doesn’t understand why she finds Ella oh so charming, mentions of how truly lonely Camelot is, how lonely Wonderland always was. Every single thought the girl had would be waiting in that journal and now the stark white is waiting patiently between her hands. Pure innocence against the violent red of her coffin shaped nails. Without any other thoughts to what she was doing, she slips the book under her arm, hands ghosting back over her shelf. (Y/n) just needed one more thing before she could slip out the door with this little book, one little push to prove that even if it hurt someone she was supposed to love, what was happening would mean something. There it is, waiting on the edge of a mid tier shelf, dust coating the top of its red gems.

Of course there would be dust on it. Bridget loves surprises, always swore to never use the thing, but her sister? Oh (Y/n) needs it, so desperately in a way she’d never needed anything before. Her hand reaches out for the little mirror, bottom lip between her teeth as she grasps it. “Alright, looking glass,” she whispers it, as if her new found friends would hear her down the hall, or Bridget had the ability to wake up before her spell wore off. “I need you to prove to me that this is worth it. What does my future look like with Morgie? Where does this go?” Shaking hands pop open the compact little mirror, looking herself dead in the eye, she whispers the words again. Her stomach swirling in a mix of hope and fear that’s nearly enough to make bile rise to her mouth as her reflection clouds over. Then, it dissipates, leaving a new image in the wake of her own watchful eye’s reflection.

A man, probably one seven or so years older than she is right now is looking back at her in the glass, and though she’s never seen him like this before, she’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He’s laughing- a sound that (Y/n) can’t truly hear but she knows all too well- with a little girl dressed in red perched on his shoulders, one hand tangled in his hair. She’s clearly pulling his hair as she reaches down for something but Morgie won’t quite let her get to it. Then the image pulls out slightly, revealing a woman who is probably somewhere in her mid twenties, she’s in red too and it takes the princess a moment to realize who she’s looking at. Watching the way tired eyes look up to Morgie with a fondness, looking between a blanket resting in her arms and the man before her as she says something that (Y/n) can’t quite hear. It’s her, and the blanket isn’t just a blanket. Now the face of a baby looks up from the green knit material as this older version of herself references from the baby’s little nose and up to Morgie’s. It’s them, happy and laughing and holding two kids who both seem to be under the age of four and it’s so cozy. As if the four of them don’t recognize anything but the love existing between them.

The sight seems to settle some knot in her stomach as she lets the gold compact close again. (Y/n) puts it gently back into it’s place before she turns to Bridget again. She gets a family from this, yes maybe she loses one too , but she gets her dream life from this one little step. And that means something, doesn’t it? For her to get what she wants from this life is enough for her to do this one, fairly harsh, thing. Morgie isn’t a fair weather boy, he’s the sunlight that shines off of the green grass of the forest floor. She can do this if it means a life with him, the princess is sure of that. So she does the last acts of kindness she can afford to give her sister. She crosses to her oven, smiling as she reaches in time with the timer’s little ding, and pulls out the strawberry cookies that the other princess had undoubtedly spent an hour or so on, letting the hot tray rest on a spare pot holder. And as she turns off the table top oven, she turns to look at her sister, the future queen of Wonderland, who sleeps soundly on her bed. (Y/n) lets herself wander to the girl’s bedside, laying a feather-like kiss onto her forehead, and with this final act of kindness, she finds her way back to Bridget’s door.

Walking out of the pink, and the Wonder, and the Hearts family line. And into something new, something dark blue and maroon and black. Into the le Fay line and the waiting hands and hooks of friends who were more like her than (Y/n) would have admitted to herself five months ago. She lets her speed pick up, running to the waiting hands of Hook and Maleficent who both hold a look somewhere between wicked excitement and annoyance. “What took so long?” The dark pixie’s words are hissed as she puts a well manicured hand out for the white leather book. “She moved the damned thing,” the princess hisses back, letting it fall into Maleficent’s hand as she leans into Hook’s side. Unable to watch as Maleficent tears her sister’s psyche apart, she lets her eyes flicker over to the pirate beside her. Hook is smiling at her -not his normal cocky smirk but this real genuine, almost kind thing- looking more proud of her than her parents ever have as he pats her shoulder in this nearly loving way. “You did good, Princess. You did really good.” She smiles back to him, fighting the “thank you” that begs to hang off her tongue as she turns back to the pixie and the god before her.

“Hey Mali,” she starts and the pixie doesn’t correct her to using her full name. She’s earned the nickname now, or at least (Y/n) supposes that’s what that means. “Yes?” There was one more kindness that she could spare her sister, (Y/n) has to do one last thing for her. She owes Bridget that. “I was thinking -and I know that the plan was already set in stone so you can tell me no- what if we changed a few things in the copies?” Maleficent’s eyes flash this sickly green hue as they flicker up to her, a blank expression taking over the rest of her features. “Like what?” “Well,” she doesn’t realize she’s wrapped her arm around Hook until she feels her fingers wrap around cold metal. The sensation seems to stabilize her though, the girl taking a deep breath as she continues, “Bridget is head over heels for Ella, and I know that the little peasant,” the insult pains her to say it but she pushes through, “has the hots for my sister too. So what if we changed the name of the girl she’s writing about to be someone else? Make it where her crush thinks her love is unrequited so that Bridget can’t have her?” Mali’s smirk is undoubtedly proud as she looks (Y/n) over, “You might just be more nasty than we thought, Princess.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Bridget Hearts knows that something feels off when she wakes up that next morning. She’s far more groggy than she’s used to being, something about being awake feels too far off, but she is. Strangest of all, she doesn’t remember being tired, she has no knowledge of falling asleep, but obviously she did. And from the red lipstick mark on her forehead, and the pink blanket she woke up tucked beneath, she knows her sister was still there when she fell asleep. It’s an oddly comforting thought, the roles of the two girls being reversed, but it’s enough to put a slight pep in Bridget’s step as she packs up her strawberry cookies and makes her way down the hall to meet Ella at the school’s front entrance.

She tries not to think anything of it as her friend grabs her hand, leading her to the cafeteria to grab their breakfast before making their way to the courtyard like they always do. Nothing about what the two girls are doing is abnormal. They’re falling into their daily routine like they always have, talking about how Ella’s night was and about the Prince who clearly wants to date her. Bridget trying not to give into her jealousy over Prince Charming. It would be perfectly mundane, if it wasn’t for the whispering. Those pointed eyes that seem to follow Bridget everywhere she goes, as if they can see through her. She has half the nerve to look down and check that she remembered pants that morning. Bridget feels thoroughly exposed to the gazes of the student body around her, and yet she has no clue what they’re seeing.

It’s when they make their way into the courtyard that Bridget begins to understand what’s happening. The cobblestone that surrounds it is covered in pages of something. And those pages have a far too familiar pink hue to them, the corners marked with spades and hearts and clubs and diamonds, just like the diary that her sister gifted her a few years before. She puts her breakfast tray down beside Ella and Bridget promises that she’ll be right back, wandering over to one of the walls as she feels every eye in the courtyard watching her. When she reaches it though, Bridget doesn’t have to look hard to recognize her own handwriting, her eyes skimming a few pages. “Any yeah, I know he’s a pirate but maybe he’d want to steal my heart as well as treasure.” “Of course, I understand how (Y/n) makes friends easier but that doesn’t mean it’s not incredibly lonely. I miss the way that it used to be.” “If I knew that boarding school would be as lonely as being homeschooled, maybe I would have just stayed in Wonderland. Of course I have Ella but I wish more people saw me. Maybe I should try using my baking skills, people like gifts, don’t they?”

And as if it’s knocking the air out of her lungs, her eyes land on the worst of it. “Obviously someone like Aladdin would be able to get her attention, I’m an idiot for ever thinking that she would see me. I mean, I’m just the idiot who thought leaving Wonderland could get her more friends, that’s my stupid mistake. But even though Jasmine doesn’t seem interested in him, I can’t help but wish she’d tell him that. I want her to look at me, not him and his stupid hair.” Though she’d pinned them down as her diary entries a few lines ago, this one is just wrong. She wasn’t talking about Jasmine and Aladdin, Bridget didn’t have a crush on Jasmine. This was originally about Ella, about Ella and Prince Charming’s stupid hair and his stupid smile and his stupidly obvious crush on the girl that Bridget wanted just as badly. With her eyes growing more blurry by the second, Bridget pulls away, turning as she hears a wicked little laugh behind her.

The sound feels unnatural as (Y/n) lets it slip from her lips. The princess nearly cringing at the forced laughter she lets out as she looks at her sister. Bridget with her teary eyes and quivering lip, staring at the arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulder as if it was a snake about to lash out at snap at her. Then her eyes travel, away from Morgie le Fay’s arm and down to the white leather resting between bright red coffin shaped claws. “Sis, thank you so much for letting me borrow this book, it was a real,” she forces another laugh, “Page turner.” Bridget’s mouth falls open and closed a few times, as if she can’t force a sound out of her throat. Eventually, after a choked sob, the pink girl manages to clench her fists, something in the motion seeming to ground her as she looks at her, “You did this? How? When? Why?”

It’s nearly impossible not to shrink away into her boyfriend’s side, (Y/n) wasn’t quite ready to see her sister look this impossibly broken. She felt sick, that same taste of bile that welled into her mouth last night fighting to make its way back. “You liked the rose, didn’t you, Bridge? I just thought you know, a gift,” her hand waves to Bridget and then to the wall and the rest of the villains, “For a gift.” She tosses the book in her hands away from her like it’s poison, letting it find a home in front of Bridget’s shoes as she reaches her now empty hand up to her shoulder to hold onto Morgie’s. He presses a kiss to her temple, laughing as he watches Bridget scramble to get her diary. And then, in the snap of Maleficent’s perfectly manicured fingers, the pink pages wallpapering the cobblestones are gone. “Just needed a little fun for our new girl is all,” Uliana all but coos the words to the pink princess before her, stepping closer, “I’m pretty sure you know her? Morgie’s girlfriend?” Bridget recoils as if Uliana’s slapped her, and (Y/n) watches tears finally fall from her eyes as she turns on her heel and runs away from all six VKs.

Finally, without the watching eyes of her shattering sister, the princess lets herself shrink down, shoulders slumping as she crumbles into Morgie’s gentle embrace. He knows her too well, far too well, because after he feels her shift, he turns to his friends and promises they’ll be right back. With their nods and “okays” they all move to go back to their breakfast table, and Morgie pulls his lover into one of the hallways beside the courtyard. A quiet and dark one, the least used of them, and he untangles himself from her. Instead moving to stand in front of (Y/n), one hand on her shoulder while the other tilts her head up from by chin. “Hey, you did it, it’s over,” his voice is barely above a whisper, looking her over as if he’s trying to check her for injuries. The princess nods, reaching up a slightly shaky hand to rest on his cheek, pulling the boy down and into a real kiss.

This one isn’t like the other ones they’ve shared. Not quick and timid pecks of two kids sneaking around and scared to get caught. Not the gentle and quick kiss they shared before this all started last night. No where near the needy and touchy make out sessions they’d take any chance they had the time. Nor the playful and touchy kisses that turned into tickle fights and neck kiss. But something new. Soft, delicate as a rose petal. It’s warmth meeting cold, skin meeting scales, the green of grass getting caught up in the red sky of a early autumn sunrise. As if she was managing to seal their energies into one, locking him to her in the only way the two teens knew how. The kiss was them, and Morgie le Fay knew no other way to describe it. When she pulls away, leaving her forehead pressed to his, he can’t bring himself to open his eyes yet. Instead, breaking the grin on his lips to softly ask, as if he feared scaring her off, “What was that for?”

She giggles, this sound that isn’t quite like the one that spilled from her lips when she realized the position she’d fallen into when she tripped over her untied shoelace and fell into his lap four months ago. But it’s closer to her real laugh than he’s heard in a week, and this giggle can be enough for him right now, because even if she said she was okay with it, he knows the girl he loves just broke her own heart for him. “I just put myself through hell to be able to do that, I couldn’t wait a second longer.” And yeah, this can be enough for him right now, especially when she’s leaning back into him, as if their lips have their own magnetic pull to them.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Oddly enough, on her first day as an official villain, Hades and Maleficent ask her to hang out, and who would (Y/n) be if she said no? It was nice, even if it meant that she didn’t get back to her dorm until seven p.m. when she’d only gotten three hours of sleep before being up at six a.m. for class. Turns out that the two were nicer than she thought, they might even have the ability to grow into two of her closest friends. Especially if they keep talking to her like she deserves to be seen. She’s pretty sure that Morgie is the only person who has ever tried to see her, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have his -their- friends see her too. Not as the rebel or the princess of diamonds, not as the arsonist or the bad sister, but as (Y/n). She wouldn’t mind that she was just now getting back from seeing people who wanted to see her soul, her exhausted mind begging her to go to sleep this early, if it wasn’t for the cardboard box outside of her dorm.

The thing is an obvious eyesore in an otherwise well decorated hallway; so despite the voice that begs her not to touch it, (Y/n) bends down and grabs it. Toting the thing into her room and letting it fall to the desk. The same voice that begged her not to touch the box now tries to convince her not to open it. But the princess of diamonds has always had the curiosity of a cat. So she ignores the voice for the second time that day, lifting the cardboard lid and letting it clatter to the floor. She knows the contents of the box well enough to know exactly where it all came from but (Y/n) lifts the pink paper that sits on the top of it anyway. Brows furrowing as something falls from the page, clattering against the ground like metal as she flips open the folded sheet.

The paper is from the same journal that got her to this point, a diamond sitting in the bottom corner of the page which felt terribly deliberate. And Bridget’s perfect handwriting is surrounded by marks that the other princess is sure had to have been born from tears, shaking hands barely holding it steady. “I don’t need to look into the looking glass to know we don’t come back from this one. Signed, The Princess of Hearts.” Somewhere, deep inside of herself, (Y/n) knows exactly what fell to the floor when she opened the note. But that doesn’t stop the princess from dropping to her knees to search for it. She’s right, of course she’s right, there laying on her hardwood floor, rests a golden band that holds a red marquis cut stone. Suddenly the heart shaped ring on (Y/n)’s finger weighs fifteen pounds.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Hook was not the type that enjoyed when his quiet time was disturbed, and he definitely considered the rushed banging on his door room door to be just that. But with Morgie not in the room, it seems that it’s left up to him to answer whoever thinks they have the right to interrupt his viewing of tonight’s episode of “Three’s a Crowd”. The pirate throws his legs over the side of the bed, storming over to the door and ripping it open as the incessant knocking seems to grow louder. “Can I fucking help,” he cuts his own question short, eyes falling on the princess he seems to be growing oddly attached to, “(Y/n) what’s wrong?”

That one little question seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, the princess falling into shaking sobs as her knees buckle beneath her. Hook doesn’t think about it as he reaches out for her, letting his arms slide beneath hers to steady the girl, pulling her into both his chest and his dorm. “Hey,” he’s never been the best with crying and the feeling of her hot tears sinking into his pajama top is almost unnerving but he does his best to sound gentle. “Hey, princess, what is it? I’ve got you.” Through strangled sobs she manages to speak, “Where is he? I need him.” He softly pressed her head to rest further into his -now wet- shoulder, adjusting his grip on her to hold her ever so slightly tighter. “He’s just in the shower, he’ll be back any minute. Lass, talk to me, what happened?”

It's nearly impossible for him to decipher through the blubbering tears that rack the girl’s body but Hook follows along the best that he can. Something about matching rings of each other’s symbols and baby pictures being given back to her. A story of a page from a stolen diary and two princesses that would never be sisters by anything but blood ever again. The princess painting a tale of a light in the dark shining through in the visions of a compact mirror that proved she’d be a le Fay by name and have a family through love. And finally through a last shaking sob, she says the first thing that Hook fully can grasp. “Hades told me that it would feel this bad but, god. Hook, she hates me. How am I supposed to spend three months at home with her and away from Morgie when I chose him over her?”

He might not be able to do much. Hook can’t fix this, he can’t look to her and admit that he feels so incredibly guilty. He can’t tell (Y/n) that he’s known about her and Morgie for two, almost three, whole months now and didn’t care. That Morgie came home with her signature red lipstick lingering on his collar and he knew immediately where his roommate had been sneaking off to because no one at Merlin Academy thought red lips were a staple but the princess before him. Hook can’t admit to the girl that he never cared about their relationship, he can’t admit that he thought this entire thing was fucked and terrifying. The pirate can’t tell her that he can’t turn off the part of his mind wondering if Uliana would do this to keep her claws in the sorcerer that already worships her, what would she do to his potential partner? He can’t tell her anything about this situation that would make him feel like less than a dick, but he can keep her out of that castle. He can protect her from a bomb that he helped to craft.

So Hook lets his mouth fall open, and as if it was the most casual thing on Earth, he speaks this heavy and adoring offer into existence. “You could always join my crew, Morgie, and I on the Jolly Roger this summer. No need to go home and see her constantly if you don’t want to. I already let a sorcerer use my ship to escape a house that doesn’t feel like a home, I’d be more than willing to let a negotiator join my crew too.” She looks to him, a ghost of a smile dotting her lips, and for the first time since she entered his dorm, the girl takes a steady breath. “Do you mean that?” He nods, untangling himself from the girl so she can see him better, so she can take in the honesty that litters his features. “Only if that’s something you want, Lass.” “Please,” she breathes the word out, smiling at the pirate with this gentle sense of hope in her eyes. And yeah, maybe Hook did lead her to the slaughter, but now he’d be her adoring cattle dog instead.

Morgie walks in as she speaks, pulling a t-shirt over his head, curls out and visible from the water that clings to them. Of course he’s heard at least the tail end of their conversation, far too many questions wait to roll off his tongue. But first, he smiles because he can finally have her in his room and it not be a problem. So the sorcerer walks up to his girlfriend, pulling her against him and pressing a kiss to her heated and slightly salty cheek, “To what do I owe the honor?” She’s turning in his arms, nuzzling into the crook of his neck with her arms around his waist, “Can I stay here tonight? Currently every physical thing that exists in terms of my relationship with my sister is sitting in my dorm and I just can’t be there.” And of course his answer is yes, why wouldn’t it be yes? He’s been waiting months for a chance to fall asleep in her arms, and that’s what all of this mess was for, wasn’t it? The purpose of all of this chaos was to be able to reach the calm in their storm, was it not? So he lets another kiss fall to the top of her head as he tightens his grip on her, and he sends a thankful look to the pirate in the tear stained tee. Maybe Morgie le Fay was meant to have a family, even if it came in the form of red tinted moonlight and rocking waves.

#descendants #descendants rise of red #descendants imagines #descendants fanfiction #descendants x reader #morgie x reader #morgie le fay #morgie le fay x reader

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