#that completely goes over my head as someone who has never studied either
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
"In Xenophon of Ephesus' romance novel, the Ephesiaca, two boys about the same age fall in love, but one takes on the role of 'lover' and must undertake to rescue the other from the clutches of an older man by abducting him at swordpoint from the latter's home, having had to sell all his belongings and take sail to get there."
damn the ancient greeks wrote some choice yaoi
#taken from same-sex unions in premodern europe by john boswell#really good book that i recommend although i feel a bit too dumb to fully make use of the knowledge in it#there's a lot about the ways in which specific latin and (ancient) greek words are translated and what they actually mean in context#that completely goes over my head as someone who has never studied either#this book is liberally referenced in pretty much every queer history text i've picked up though so i really wanted to read it lmao
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
i don't want you in my mind.
When we met Lisbon and Jane in season 1, we’re not exactly sure of the dynamic or how long this group has been working together. We know Grace is new, and seemingly, this is her first case. At this point in the early series, we don’t know the characters or what they’ll become over the first season leading into the second. ALL THIS TO SAY: this post is focusing on the shift in the Jane-Lisbon partnership over through the first season to early second second (through 2.03 Red Badge).
One moment I want to gleam on before going into this: Jane ‘reading’ Lisbon’s mind in episode 9, Flame Red. It’s a cute moment when Jane says Lisbon is glad he can’t actually read minds. It leads to this exchange.
Ending with Lisbon saying ‘Never you mind’, I think it’s a great little shot into how, at this point, she doesn’t want him in her head.
I want to start by examining episode 10, Red Brick and Ivy. This is, as far as I know, the first mention of Jane being forcefully admitted to a psychiatric hospital. What’s neat about this storytelling is not only are we, the audience, first learning of this, but Lisbon herself is told by Jane for the first time. It’s something that’s not in his file. In a, I would say, faithful, maybe trusting moment, Jane lets someone know something about him. He’s guarded at this point - we basically just know his background with family and Red John, nothing really about the man. At this moment, Lisbon doesn’t judge him or ask why she didn’t know this. She simply says thank you for telling me. We see Lisbon’s face and how it studies Jane in a wonderfully acted moment. She’s grateful that he’s opened himself up a bit to her. This leads to building a more trusting relationship.
In episode 17, Carnelian Inc., we get a great moment, and probably, the moment that shifts their relationship (at least to this point). In conversation with each other, Lisbon admits she doesn’t really trust Jane and says he doesn’t trust her either. Jane is a little hurt by her accusation (in his Jane way). To remedy the situation, he suggests a trust fall. Lisbon eventually agrees to it - it’s another nicely acted moment. For me, it’s humorous to see Jane almost let Lisbon fall back completely before actually catching her.
NOW onto the season 1 finale aka the first real sense of trust we see in their relationship. Honestly this is where I think I really fell in love with them as partners. I loved the dynamic before but this episode shines on them and it rubs off. Near the end of the episode, we see them having an argument about what to do with the information they have on Red John:
This might be obvious to longtime fans, but I didn’t know it was a plan or set-up until the end of the episode where she comes in to save him and the woman being held from Red John’s accomplice. We know Lisbon as the lawful, by the book type of detective. For her to go along with Jane's plan (loose wire), the trust she has in him for it to work must be significant. It’s a plan I don’t think she goes along with in the beginning of the season. The outcome here leads directly into season 2 (which we’ll see in a minute)
There’s also a moment after the Red John accomplice is caught where Lisbon and Jane have a conversation. He’s so wrapped up in this case that nothing else matters. He needs revenge for what was done to his family and, really, what was done to him having to live with the aftermath. It seems he’d die for Red John to be caught. At least we have the accomplice, Lisbon says. He’ll say what we need to know. She also doesn’t believe him: I think you choose life, she says. And she’s correct - we see it in the interactions he has with others (also the very end with him and the orange tree). It’s proven true just minutes later when Lisbon has a gun pulled on her by the accomplice - Jane comes forward with a shotgun and kills the man. The man who has the knowledge of Red John. All this to save his friend’s life because that’s what he chooses: Life!
We’re onto season 2 now - I mainly want to focus on a few moments before getting to episode 3, Red Badge. In the first one, we meet Lisbon’s old colleague Bosco. He’s been chosen to take over the Red John. We see this great exchange:
She does “go easy” on him and not just because he saved her life but because she trusts him now.
AND what could be clouding her judgment huh? The need to help her friend solve this case that consumes him? Because their relationship has changed over the season? He’s not just the consultant anymore. He’s her (and really the team’s) friend.
In this next one, the roles from the season 1 finale are switched. Jane’s the one in trouble - Lisbon is too slow to her gun for the perpetrator so she can’t save Jane the way he saved her. Eventually this dude dies, and they use his corpse to get a confession. THIS WOULDN’T HAPPEN IN SEASON 1. I don’t think Lisbon goes along with the corpse plan without the season 1 finale happening with its moments. Their boss even tells her she’s drunk Jane’s Kool-Aid with her defense of how they at least solved the case. Progress!!!
ONTO RED BADGE - I didn’t know this episode would consume me and propel me to write this post before I even watch 2.04 (so keep in mind I’m not analyzing anything past this episode in the post). In the beginning, there’s a scene with Jane and Lisbon playing a version of cups (I guess I would call it). Jane says their minds are synced.
In this episode, Lisbon is framed for the murder of a child molester she helped put away. We learn that’s how she knows Bosco and earned the nickname ‘Saint Teresa’. This whole episode is important to the ever-shifting relationship between Lisbon and Jane. She can’t remember what she did the night of the murder so she enlists Jane’s help with hypnotization - it shows a great trust in him and his abilities. She’s opening herself up to be vulnerable with him. As I mentioned earlier in the post, there’s a scene in season 1 where she doesn’t want him to know what she’s thinking - she still doesn’t but, because of the trust established, she allows herself to be hypnotized.
WHICH LEADS TO another plan that only the two of them are in on!!! To try to lure the real murderer out, Jane has Lisbon pretend to be heavily medicated and have a breakdown in the office. Her old colleague Bosco is highly concerned - he doesn’t know it’s all fake!!!! It ends up working with the murderer coming to Lisbon’s house and describing the scene in a way only the murderer would know. Similarly to the season 1 finale, we don’t know this is all a plan until the end. Bosco is admittedly hurt by not being a part of the plan - he and Lisbon go back and he implies if it had been her he would’ve helped her out with the case. The episode ends with Jane getting Lisbon donuts from a shop she mentioned earlier in the episode - he listens! He also picks up on Bosco’s more than friendly feelings toward Lisbon and teases her about it. In my opinion, I think Jane and Lisbon have always been on decent terms and probably friendly with each other, but it’s taken to a new level with the new trust and shift of their relationship. I’m not sure how to exactly end this but if you’ve read this far - thank you! I’m excited to see how the rest of season 2 (and the series) plays out with their relationship!
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
thots about tommy wayne under the cut 👇🏾😚👍🏾
ok so in my head he's not from gotham lol (my guy is east coast mean, which is pretty mean, but not gotham mean which translates to being the sweetest guy on earth once you’re within the city limits). he's the illegitimate and son of patrick wayne and his daddy wouldn't claim him bc the affair/one-night-stand/whatever-you-wanna-call-it happened while he was very much married (fuck this guy fr!) and his wife was very much pregnant (oh brother this guy STINKS!!!). anywayyyy elizabeth mitchell isn’t stupid and knows a fight she can't win when she sees one so she leaves gotham for new york when the test comes back positive and patrick won’t pick up her calls.
and things are going good! she's made a little name for herself as a local nightclub singer and she's got a job waiting tables during the day that makes good money and sure things were a little touch and go for a while and sure there were times where she was sure that they weren't gonna make it but she got her baby through school (he graduated valedictorian btw) and now he's in the first year of his pre med undergraduate degree at the local university on a full scholarship (her parenting HER parenting).
so imagine her surprise when the billionaire deadbeat of the hour shows up on her doorstep one day talking about family duty and lines of succession.
patrick amadeus wayne jr. is dead. dead dead dead. and while it wasn't really a surprise to anyone with eyes (weak lungs can only take so many wet gotham winters and the tabloids were saying that the cough he sported at the latest gala sounded particularly nasty), he was by all appearances an only child (francesca wayne could barely get pj out let alone carry another baby to term) and the waynes were fumbling for someone to take his place before the body was even cold.
the transition is as rough as you would expect, what with the stony silences from his father’s wife (stepmother? who knows, not that either of them would ever acknowledge the relation) whenever they cross paths in the manor (francesca wayne never makes an outside appearance in gotham society again after the passing of her son. she enters a period of seclusion and never emerges, spending her days wandering the halls in mourning blacks and lighting candles in prayer), and sometimes being called patrick or pj by the gotham upper class (intentionally or not. though he suspects intentionally because his mother’s side of the family got the monopoly on his looks). it’s very obvious that he doesn’t fit in but hey, free college is free college and his mama is gonna be set for life if he can just see this through.
of course the whole thing doesn’t go over well (a long lost father suddenly appearing on your doorstep and claiming you only because his other kid died would put most people off to be completely fair) but after some yelling and screaming and haggling, compromises are made. in exchange for thomas moving to gotham and being prepped to take over as head of wayne enterprises, his mother is also to be put up in a fancy brownstone on the upper east side and given enough in allowance (in addition to the 18 years of child support she never got) so that she never has to work again and thomas is to be allowed to continue his studies, graduate medical school (in gotham and not at john hopkins like he planned. rip it was literally his dream school), and become a doctor (i like to think becoming a doctor was solely a thomas wayne endeavor. all the wayne men before him were men of business and trade but tommy has wanted to help people his entire life and he’ll be damned if he lets his father keep him from following his dreams). there’s a handshake and signatures signed on a drawn-up contract (because patrick wayne doesn’t do anything by halves and of course he brought the family lawyer to meet his son after 19 years of pretending he didn’t exist) and thomas goes from a two-bedroom apartment in hell’s kitchen to a bedroom the same size (and then some) right outside of gotham city.
and he does see it through, very well in fact! thomas wayne graduates top of his class in undergrad at gotham university as well as in medical school, is granted a residency at gotham general, and eventually becomes the head of surgery. Along the way, he meets a girl named martha, gets married, and has a beautiful baby boy named bruce (after his maternal grandfather ofc) and the rest is history!
#tomi.txt#dc comics#batman#thomas wayne#i had a lot more i wanted to add but it got annoying to scroll through on mobile </3
80 notes
·
View notes
Note
Some of the asks you're receiving are giving me worrying flashbacks to being the only kid in my class arguing that dropping the atom bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki was wrong. I hope someone has studied the 'the more unconscionable an empire's actions the harder its people are taught to defend them' effect because it is a doozy. I am also concerned with how many people are not thinking twice before sending messages saying, essentially, 'You're exaggerating the cruelty of the US's occupation of another sovereign nation!' to....a member of an occupied sovereign Indigenous nation. I hope they're not weighing on you too much or dampening your enthusiasm for this project. I am really enjoying your research sauga, thank you for sharing it with us!
Thank you for this ask. I can't honestly pretend that all of this very much has been weighing on me. It's frustrating on a lot of levels but more than that it just kinda sucks and hurts. Especially as someone who is literally Indigenous and doesn't have dark skin? It's a constant battle of trying to not need to prove I'm Native enough versus having to fight for the recognition that I am my culture and I'm not just fucking racefaking, versus the fear that trying to be more visibly Native would just make me look like a racist caricature even though the whole reason I feel that impulse is because to non-Indigenous people, they see Native Americans as a single monolithic caricature and culture. I can't be native because I don't look like the noble savage in their heads. Don't pay attention to history, there clearly has never been a situation where perhaps Natives on the whole got more and more lighter skinned as generations went on. And there's definitely never been any reason for the American government to have extreme incentive in making sure Natives got bred out of the gene pool.
And none of this is actually directly relevant to the pressure, but it's informing how I'm approaching the research, as someone who can empathize with cultural erasure at the hands of fucking taibo, and I think that no matter what, conspiracy or not, cover-up or not, I think that it is incredibly important that more people in the world are aware that leading into the Cold War, Japan was forcibly coerced into giving total power over a significant cultural touchstone/ingredient/way of life to a single foreigner who had a complete lack of respect for what shoyu is, even going so far as to say "I want to change Japan's taste preferences". I cannot imagine a more direct and blunt parallel to settler-colonialism mindset. I truly cannot.
So to be consistently challenged--despite having either corrected or adapted mistakes/misinformation, or on some occasions actually proving that what I am claiming is not a mistake and it was like this--is kind of pinging a bunch of radars. Even beyond the pressure to perform for the sheer volume of interest--I'm used to that, I've not been exactly an unknown figure on this hellsite--there's a pressure to be perfect. To be immediate. I need to give the people the true answers and the end of the story three days ago; I need to give updates; I need to consider whether or not I want to be interviewed by Tech Crunch; I need to do everything except be allowed to let the natural timeline of research actually be its natural timeline.
I can't continue a large portion of research without having received responses back from government bureaus, from research archives, from college professors, from genetic biologisists, from horticulturists, from historians, from translators I'm paying with the money being sent about this project, from the genealogists and archivists and librarians who are also part of it...the list goes on. I can't make official entities of bureaucracy answer me quicker. It just doesn't work like that in real life--but for some unfathomable reason, Tumblr isn't treating what I'm doing like real life. They're treating it like an ARG.
So I suppose all this is to say I'm seriously having to consider going mostly offline for this holiday season. And I'm almost definitely going to try and avoid this project as much as I can during winter break; it's not like I'll be making quick progress anyway, since half of the academic sources I've contacted are already out for winter.
I hope that all of you understand that, for the most part, it's not you all as a group which is so upsetting and frustrating and draining and worrisome. For the most part it is individual responses from individual people, with a background radiation of eyes and pressure and selfishness on top of it, the natural state of existence for being in the spotlight at any given time. And I hope at the same time all of you understand how incredibly grateful, and touched, and honored, and excited I am that so many others are ALSO excited about this project. That all of you are just as eager to get to the bottom of whatever this ends up being as I am. The fact that people are willing to pay attention, even if only for a little while, to someone whose country is being occupied by foreign invaders investigating and finding the truth about what was happening during a different occupation with the same invaders. I think what is being done here is important work. And I'm glad that all of you do as well.
Without your generosity I would not have been able to even remotely gather the strength to push this for the long haul. And I do mean that literally. I started this project with less than $50USD in my bank account and today this is the first time I've ever had more than about $750 to my name. It's not much in the long run but I'm just so used to having nothing to spare that having any feels like the height of luxury. I bought myself a chai frappe today because I was waiting for a meeting to start. And I didn't hardly feel guilty. I can't tell all of you how emotional that made me, but if you've ever had rough times, I'm sure I don't need to.
Thank you all. I'm really excited to see where we go from here.
699 notes
·
View notes
Text
You Yao (有药) Novel Extra: Another Ghost 🌼
“Did that strange man come again this year?”
“Tiezhu, Tiezhu——”
“Ah, what is it, Er’ya?”
“My ma said a strange man no one’s ever seen before came to the village. Did you see him?”
“A strange man?”
“Mhm. I hear he’s pretty impressive-looking—tall and strong, and he carries a sword too, like a great hero of the jianghu!
“Quit lying. Why’d a great hero of the jianghu come to a village like ours?”
“Really, my ma never lies.”
“Well, where is he? I wanna see too.”
“He headed for the bamboo grove in the south. I wanted to follow him and take a peek, but I was too scared.”
“Don’t be scared. Wait till I go home and get Tieniu to come. The two of us will protect you.”
***
“Wah, is that the strange man you were talking about? That looks like a grave over there!”
“Shh——not so loud. You’re too fat, Tiezhu. Quick, squeeze in a little bit. Careful you don’t get caught.”
“What’s he doing kneeling there?”
“You’re so dumb. He’s obviously kneeling to sweep the grave.”
“If he’s visiting a grave, shouldn’t he be wailing at the top of his lungs like my pa does? He’s not crying, either. Besides, today’s not even Qingming.” [1]
“Maybe it’s the anniversary of someone’s death…… Tiezhu, Tieniu, can either of you see what name’s written on the tombstone?”
“There’s nothing on it. It’s completely blank. Is it really a tombstone? I think it’s just a big hunk of rock……”
“Ah, he’s looking this way!”
***
“Phew……that scared me, that really scared me.”
“I didn’t think the strange man would also be a kind person. He even gave us some flatbread to eat.”
“Don’t eat it, don’t eat it guys. My ma said not to take anything a stranger gives us.”
“Hehehe, Er’ya really is a scaredy-cat. He’s a hero of the jianghu. When a great hero gives you flatbread, that’s called giving you face. You can’t just not eat it!”
“I’m not a scaredy-cat!”
“Ah, don’t, don’t be mad. This flatbread’s really tasty. Wanna try some?”
“Mhm.”
***
“Tiezhu, Tiezhu—— That strange man’s back again!”
“What strange man?”
“Tall and strong, with a sword at his waist. The one who journeyed from afar to visit the tomb.”
“Stop using so many fancy words. I can’t understand them.”
“That’s what you get for not studying, idiot. I’ll teach them to you later.”
“Sure. Do you still want to go see the strange man? I’ll go get Tieniu.”
***
“The strange man’s so nice. He even went out of his way to bring us candy.”
“Speaking of which, I think he came here around this time last year too. Let’s make note of today’s date. Maybe he’ll come again next year.”
“Er’ya.”
“Hm?”
“Um……do you want another piece of candy?”
“Of course.”
“I, I can give you my piece. And then, when you grow up, you’ll be my bride, alright?”
“What are you talking about? Have you no shame!”
***
“Did the strange man come again this year?”
“He did. Let’s go say hello.”
***
“Did the strange man come again this year?”
“Yes, and right on time. I ran into him at the entrance to the village just now. He even said I’ve gotten taller.”
“Have you noticed that he always comes early in the morning and only leaves late into the night? So he sits in front of that grave for the whole day.”
“It’s kind of scary.”
“What’s so scary about that? There must be someone very important in that grave. ‘In life or death, together or apart……’ [2]
“Stop using fancy words, silly.”
“You great idiot!”
***
……
“Ma——”
“What is it? Mummy’s doing some needlework now. Go find your father.”
“Ma, when Uncle took me out to pick fruits just now, we ran into a strange old man……”
“A strange old man?”
“Uncle said you both know him.”
“A strange old man…… That’s right, it’s that time of year again. Tiezhu! Tiezhu!”
“Coming. What can I do for you, darling?”
“The strange man’s back to visit the grave.”
“Whoa, how many years has it been already?”
“He comes and goes all on his own every year. How lonely. Why don’t you go and ask if he’d like to eat a meal and stay the night in our home before he leaves?”
“Right on.”
***
“He said no. He said he didn’t want to impose, but he’s grateful for the invitation.”
“Don’t you find him strange? Seeing as he travels all this way every year, if it’s not his parents in that grave, then it must be his departed wife, no? But he didn’t get anyone to carve anything on the tombstone, not even a name. What’s the meaning behind that?”
“Who knows? People of the jianghu will always have their peculiarities.”
***
“Did that strange man come again this year?”
“Take a guess?”
***
“Did that strange man come again this year?”
“He did. His hair’s gone all white already.”
“That’s right, the days have gone by so quickly…… Year in and year out—every time he visits, we grow old by another year.”
***
……
“Gramps, why hasn’t the strange man come yet this year?”
“Maybe he can’t make the journey anymore. Aiya, wait while I go ask around the village.”
***
“Dear——the strange man is dead.”
“Dead?”
“Mhm. I ran into a tall youngster at the entrance to the village just now, and he gave me this bundle. He said the strange man was their sect leader or something. He passed away peacefully in his sleep last month and was buried in the mountains behind their whatsit sect.”
“……Oh. Then what’s in the bundle?”
“The youngster said that before he died, he instructed them to deliver it here along with some silver. He wanted us to help bury the bundle for him, right next to that grave in the bamboo grove.”
“So he wanted to erect a symbolic grave, huh.”
“Let me take a look. The bundle contains……an old bamboo mat?”
“Don’t poke around!”
“It looks like there are a few characters carved on here. Dear, can you read them out?”
“The characters have almost completely worn away…… Gu Zhi, Gu……Zhi? How I miss…… Oh, I really can’t make out the characters that come after that.”
【END】
---
[1] Qingming Festival, aka Grave-Sweeping Day
[2] From 击鼓 “Striking the Drums” from the Book of Songs: “In life or death, together or apart / That was the vow I made with you”
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ah, the highs and lows of being a Public Figure! I can't say I'm keen on being remotely diagnosed by total strangers, especially on a matter that I explicitly lampshaded as a red herring in the opening paragraph of my original post, but you do seem respectful and sincere about it, so I take your proposition in good faith.
I used to worry when I was a kid that I would go "crazy"; stories about surrealism and insanity always appealed to me. They were scary in a way that felt cathartic and good. And I do think my juvenile brain walked a very tenuous road in its development; I think I was close to developing in some seriously abnormal ways; but this stuff has a way of coming to a head one way or another as the brain goes through adolescence, and in my case everything seemed to shake out in the other direction. Not to say that I was ever normal, but eventually it became clear that I wasn't going to go crazy after all—at least not in the sense I had meant it.
I would go farther, even: I have observed through a lifetime of studying others that my grip on reality and consistent sense of self are in the very high percentiles compared to most folks'. By virtue of being fiercely self-aware, I've built up a good map of my sanities and insanities over the years, and the insanities are all stupid, boring things that feel actively disappointing for their complete lack of artistic value.
No, I know exactly what you're talking about, and I definitely see how I can casually resemble someone with some flavor of multiple personalities—especially in the eyes of people who, if you will forgive me, either don't understand the condition very well, or aren't very good at applying their knowledge of it.
(Tangent: This belongs to a larger complaint of mine about our cultural norm of oversimplifying psychological conditions, overfitting well-known "fashionable" conditions, and specifically diagnosing people—especially diagnosing total strangers whom one has never met in person��without any credentials or proper diagnostics. Not that I don't do it myself, too, in my efforts to understand deranged behaviors by religious and political extremists, so I suppose the charge of hypocrisy is pursuable, but regardless it is definitely a norm that I dislike. I'm not a psychologist but I had one for a parent and studied a fair amount of it in school, and I know enough about it to know that armchair psychology is little better than a scam.)
I'll even add some gas to the fire by mentioning that I talk to myself regularly and sometimes speak as though there are multiple conversation participants.
Nevertheless—and it's hard to overstate this—whatever it is that causes people to interpret intrusive thoughts as independent and possessing agency is nearly a polar opposite from the way my own head works when it comes to identifying what is externally real and what isn't. I have never, ever believed that any of my characters etc. were speaking to me independently, nor have I ever perceived them to speak at all (or communicate or attempt to communicate in any way that implies an independent agent capable of communication). This barrier is very thick; in the few times in my life that I have tried to imagine me sitting down with one of my characters and speaking with them (including Silence herself), it was always a challenging exercise in artificiality. It feels quite unnatural. I am always aware that these entities are figments of my imagination with no independent agency.
I do have intrusive thoughts sometimes—I mean, who doesn't?—especially through conditions like depression, and through this experience I have slowly traced out a sense of how it might work for other people to interpret these intrusive thoughts in a way that makes them feel like there might be other entities inside their head or penetrating into their head from outside. In fact our speciary grip on "reality" is extremely tenuous, and if anything I am surprised that separation-from-reality problems aren't more common. This may even point to a tradeoff advantage in being fundamentally less intelligent: less capability to go mentally haywire. But that's speculation and a digression.
I think the most interesting thing you said is (boldface mine):
Silence Terlais is probably actually trying to talk to you (from inside your brain), and/or possibly already actively talking to you in a mode that you do not necessarily consciously recognize as communication
This kind of conceptualization raises the question of where compulsions come from—and not just pathological compulsions but all drives. Where does my desire to compose stories in the first place come from? Where do my tastes come from? Why do my artistic and aesthetic desires take the form they do?
I spoke in my original post about my sense of Silence being like a form to encapsulate things that need saying, and I spoke of a desire to write my stories so as to bring Silence into the real world, and this sort of talk is almost certainly what tripped your "multiple personality" detectors. But that is a fundamental misreading, and in contemplating my reply here I have been trying to articulate why. I don't have a perfect expression for it yet, but here is my best shot:
I consider myself valid in a world that has often classified me as invalid. I posses existential confidence in myself; I "believe" in myself. I also have a deep sense of what is right and what is wrong, not just ethically but aesthetically and even metaphysically. I have spent my whole adult life asserting myself through storytelling and other forms of art—among other methods—thereby giving an outward, tangible voicing to the things that matter to me and underscoring my self-evidently self-validating position. It's a shame that the word for gaslighting is gaslighting, because otherwise I would want to say that through my art I act to fight the world's invalidating impulses by shining light on my ideas, feelings, and aspirations. Silence is my "If I were boss of the world..." character; she's how I express the convictions and principles that I hold most dearly, and she is also a vessel for exploring my own experiences and feelings—among her many other purposes befitting the main character of a sprawling work. I want to get Silence out onto the page because I recognize that I'll never get to have kids or make a conventional industrial contribution to humanity. She is what I perceive as my most meaningful and sincere contribution to the world, and is a distillation of all my treasures. I want to make monuments to her because I want to be acknowledged and remembered, like most people do. I don't build bridges or cure diseases; I tell stories. That's my profession as it were.
And I do recognize that this is still a phenomenon of neurodivergent space. It's not at all normal or typical to have a Silence Terlais in one's life—an idée fixe. I think most artists are weirdos of some flavor or another, obsessed with or compelled by this or that—be it drawing squiggles, or writing war stories, or composing very particular music. If I weren't so self-aware and capable of perceiving with passable-or-better accuracy my actions in the context of both their relationship with material reality and their reception by others, I could have very easily ended up being a crank. I think my self-awareness and objectivity inoculate me against a lot of problematic thinking and behavior.
If there is a "there" there when it comes to Silence, it is almost certainly some mixture of: 1) a desire for acceptance that I never received in the formative years that I most needed it; 2) an expression of my desire for belonging, friendship, and companionship; 3) various other stuff of lesser importance. (Perhaps I can write a post about it someday.)
To instead interpret her primarily as a manifestation of multiple personalities is a misunderstanding of and/or a misapplication of that concept, and of Silence herself.
Believe me, I'm aware of appearances! I've been aware from the beginning. And I have explored the possibility at great length over the years, especially long ago when Silence was more intensely and more frequently on my mind than she is today. (I actually don't think about her nearly as much as I used to, which makes me kinda sad.)
If anything, if I could snap my fingers and have her be an independent presence in my head for a day, I would do it in a heartbeat. I'd be intensely curious as to what that might be like. I've wondered, sometimes, if I would be as acceptable to her as I might hope, and if she would be as friendly to me as I would expect, or if it would be one of those ludicrously ironic "Undone by my own creation!" scenarios. Of course, I can only speculate; I'll never actually know; because the whole point is that she's not really here. It is in an error in the construction of the Universe, yet nevertheless a physical fact of the Universe, that Silence Terlais is not real. The best I can do is put her likeness in a book.
At any rate, there you go! My thoughts. I had a look at your page to make sure you weren't a troll or something, and you seem legit albeit new here (then again, I am kinda new here too), so, yeah...I hope this was of some interest to you! I don't really have any stake in what you actually think about me, but it's an interesting topic, and I presume that by fact of your taking the time and trouble to write your thoughts out and present them to me you must care about the issue and must have wanted to share the fruits of your deliberation with me. I see your effort and I appreciate it, even if I don't care for the fruit.
This also marks three posts in a row about Silence, lol. Which I guess is one of the reasons I'm on Tumblr, after all! So I must be doing something right.
the light, and the glass
So there's this particular quality I have, as a fiction writer, and I have very little sense of how common or rare it is.
The quality is closely related to that famous Michaelangelo quip, about his sculptures being "already complete within the marble block":
The sculpture is already complete within the marble block, before I start my work. It is already there, I just have to chisel away the superfluous material.
This is how I feel, too, about my works of fiction. They feel like "real things" that "already exist," in some important sense, before I write them down -- or, indeed, before I even fully know what they contain.
So, for instance, if I haven't yet thought of an ending for a story I'm playing with in my mind, I nonetheless have a vivid sense that this particular story has an ending, and that this ending already is whatever it happens to be. It's only that I haven't managed to "see" it yet.
To clarify the point, consider the contrast between this thing, and two relatively familiar ways of thinking about how fiction gets made:
Conscious, goal-directed craft/artifice.
Intending to write a Satisfying Plot in which each character has an Arc, the Story Beats follow logically from one another and are arranged with what is called Good Pacing, the proverbial Cat is Saved, etc., and "solving for" these desiderata in a conscious manner.
Or, intending to create something much more outré and unsettling than all that -- but having some specific set of (outre, unsettling) intentions in mind, at the outset, and concocting/arranging the elements of your work in a conscious way guided by these intentions.
Free-wheeling, self-expressive "creativity."
Just do whatever, man! Follow your bliss. The canvas is blank and anything is possible. Whatever you feel like putting into that empty space, go ahead and put it there.
(The key thing being that, after "putting something there," you'll look and recognize something with origins in you, and your own whims and feelings at a particular moment.)
For me, though, the process of writing, and even of "ideating" (plotting, etc.), feels like a kind of transcription or channeling, as opposed to either of the above.
When I say "channeling," here, I don't mean that I have some actual, mystical belief in a supernatural object revealing itself through me. Not in the woo-woo sense anyway; whatever is really going on here, I am sure it "merely" involves the mechanics of the human mind, as implemented in the physical human brain and body.
But I do mean that it feels a lot like that. Like the story -- and not just the story part of the stories, but the whole thing, the "art object" -- has some real prior existence outside of me, first.
Like I am merely doing my best to "get it right," to be a perfect transmitter for the radio signal. To "do justice" to the "real thing," in the secondary act of writing words onto a page.
To be a courier who transports a valuable object from some originary otherworld into a place which happens to be called "existence" -- and to ensure, as much as possible, that it suffers no disfiguring scrapes during the journey.
----
I should say, though, that there's a lot of the "#1" above in my process too, the conscious-artifice thing.
Except... when I do that kind of thing, the intentions all come from the "real object," and my goal is to fill in whatever I can't see of that object so that everything I can see is preserved.
So: I will come to know, surely and indefeasibly, that the story must have some particular feature. (An event, a little moment, a character feeling a certain way at a certain time, even a specific turn of phrase.) Better to say: I know the story does have this feature. I see it in the marble.
But I can't see everything that's there, already, in the marble. And sometimes these glimpses-from-the-beyond are strange, inconvenient, difficult to "fit" into the current story (or perhaps into any story) in a natural-seeming manner.
And that's my task, when I'm doing the conscious-artifice thing: to take this collection of axiomatically-present glimpses, and build a structure around them into which they can "fit," naturally and even logically, just as if they were ordinary story-building-blocks like their neighbors, being placed here and there for ordinary story-reasons.
----
This has various implications. For one, it determines which kinds of writerly anxieties I suffer from, and which types leave me alone.
Like, I have virtually no self-doubt about my "ideas." About the overall, large-scale goodness-or-badness of the thing I'm creating. At least, not when considered "in principle," in an idealized sense that abstracts away from my actual capabilities as a guy who puts words on pages.
"Was this story, as a whole, a good idea?" is a question I find difficult to ask myself. Even when applied to smaller units, like specific plot points, this kind of question simply goes nowhere when I attempt to think about it. Insofar as my mind can cough up any answer, that answer looks like:
Yes
(after a moment, with mounting bewilderment) Yes, obviously -- how strange even to ask!
(after another moment, and as an afterthought) ...but if it weren't any good, is that really my business? It's not like I came up with it. I was asked to keep it safe and bring it into reality, and I take that duty seriously, but once it has reached its destination I wipe my hands of the matter. Don't shoot the messenger!
It's not, just, that I feel like the "real thing" "already exists." I also feel, always, that the real thing is... really good.
I deeply, thoroughly trust the Muse / Higher Power responsible for originally "making" this stuff. (To speak in relatively woo-woo terms, for ease and clarity.)
The Muse / Higher Power is a seriously skilled artist, much more so than little-old-me; if She makes any errors at all, they are not really mistakes, but "are volitional and are the portals of discovery."
And what's more, there is a sacred, unearthly gleam to the artifacts She makes, perhaps having something to do with that Fairyland, that place-other-than-"existence," in which they are originally made.
It feels like an honor to be designated as a courier for these enchanted things. Perhaps not a deserved honor -- on which more below -- but it's never the nature and value of the transported goods that I doubt.
(There is a definite sense of ritual to the thing that I do, here; a sense of connecting with some other place, definitively apart from our mundane here-and-now, and likewise more important/primary/etc. than the latter. Hence, perhaps, my tendency to not-write for long stretches, and then write in long sustained bursts for many hours at a time, which need a good deal of preliminary building-up-steam before they fully get going; it takes time to pierce, and then fully cross, the veil between worlds. And the various imprints of this stuff on the works themselves are not hard to see, once you're looking for them; they are of course especially transparent in TNC.)
All that being said, I do suffer persistently from a different anxiety.
When Michaelangelo said the thing about the sculpture "already complete within the marble block," he said it as... Michaelangelo.
As a famous, incontrovertibly masterful craftsman. Not a guy likely to suffer from doubts about his ability to put the chisel to the marble block, and reveal precisely that shape which was already there, inside.
But I'm not Michaelangelo. I'm not even sure I'm a good craftsman, much less a great one.
Certainly I've never conceived of myself in this way, even aspirationally. (Well, maybe I did in childhood and adolescence, but that was a very different thing from what I'm talking about now.)
I don't do what a person would do, if they wanted to be a Writer, and strove to be the best one they could. I don't, for the most part, practice my craft. I write because there's a Real Thing that only I can see, and it's not going to make into Existence any other way.
And since I don't write by habit or as practice -- since I only write at times when a Real Thing is in need of some incarnating-work, and I'm the only one around to do it -- I'm not exactly an ideal candidate for the job.
I am like a man who never especially wanted to be a sculptor, never practiced the trade, and was never more-than-ordinarily good with his hands, even... who is then, suddenly, struck with a very literal version of the experience Michaelangelo described.
Who, suddenly and inexplicably, begins to actually see a sculptural masterpiece lurking inside, whenever he looks at a faceless marble block.
What is our protagonist to do? Naturally, he will find a chisel, and begin chipping away. He will feel that these things need to be freed from their prisons, released and revealed to all the world, so that all the world can delight in them as he already does.
But he will be very aware of the unfamiliar way the chisel sits in his hand; of the way that hand trembles, and fails to meet the mark, and sometimes shaves off precious bits of what was really and originally a beautifully formed hand -- so that the hand, in the realized artwork, forever bears some oddity of shape which was not a part of what he saw inside the block, but only a consequence of his own shameful incompetence.
He will feel that his works, such as they are, are an odd mixture of amateurish craft and direct, divine inspiration. Insofar as he is Great, it will be because he has had Greatness thrust upon him, from without. He will feel, sometimes, that his successes have been obtained through a kind of cheating, not won fair-and-square.
And he will feel, always, a particular kind of (justified) impostor syndrome: an awareness that what he is doing, when he sits down before the marble block with the chisel in hand, is a very different sort of thing than what is usually called "sculpting," and what is being practiced by careful, hard-working aspirants just down the road, at the local workshop. The students there call themselves "sculptors," and our protagonist supposes he must call himself a "sculptor" too -- but he knows that behind this coincidence of language, a vast and strange chasm is hidden.
(I worry that this metaphor sounds flattering to me -- I am divinely inspired, they are merely toiling away and following the rules -- when I don't mean it that way at all.
In particular, note that there is nothing in our story to rule out some of the "real" sculptors down the road from also being visionaries who see the finished work in the block. Indeed, I got the metaphor from Michaelangelo, who was precisely this way.
I am only saying that all the conceivable configurations of craft/inspiration are in fact possible: just as it is possible to be skilled but uninspired, it's possible for inspiration to strike someone who lacks the capacity to fully realize its content. And that is how I feel, about my own attempts to create.)
----
When I was getting near the end of Almost Nowhere, and struggling with this kind of feeling, Esther would often reassure me by saying: "you are the light, and you are the glass it shines through."
In other words: you are a transmitter, and you are the source of the transmitted signal. Remember that in actual fact, the "real thing in the marble" came from your own little brain, just as much as the rest of it did. In actual fact, if there is a Muse and a Higher Power, it is really just an additional part of the same creature that holds the chisel, and worries over its trembling hand.
I did, indeed, find this very reassuring. And that's a funny thought, in a way! I imagine that for some people -- and indeed for me, in many other endeavours -- the same sentiment could easily have the opposite effect.
"It's all on you. It's all your responsibility. If any of it is bad, there's no one else to blame. If there is any 'Higher Power' at all, it is only the one inside you at all times, and not able to save you through unexpected intervention, from some true outside."
But I already believed, thoroughly, in the magical potency of the goods I was charged with transporting. If I was (somehow!) their maker, too, then (somehow!) the root of that glimpsed, alien magic was in me.
And so, perhaps, I could trust myself to ferry them into Existence without ruining, without even much dimming, the fairy-gleam from elsewhere that made them what they were.
#Silence Terlais#Psychology#Armchair psychology#Amateur psychology#Multiple personalities#Philosophy of writing#Literary alter-egos are always rich veins for discourse
256 notes
·
View notes
Note
headcanons for an Mc with cptsd and the brothers accidentally trigger them? (Not during the actively violent parts in the Canon game....just little things that remind them of trauma.)
Ah yes! I can definitely do this! As someone with C-PTSD, It is something I see in fics a lot that I havent ever felt relatable to my own experience so I will try to reflect that in here for anyone else who's experienced the same thing in the fandom! (I've been thinking about making this into a series as well but its on the backburner for now until I finish the main two I'm working on)
The Brothers Accidentally trigger Mc's C-PTSD
Fandom: Obey me
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Headcanons
Written for GN!MC
CW: C-PTSD, panic attacks, Self-injurious behavior (e.g. hair-pulling, head-banging, scratching), implications of past abuse, somewhat suggestive on Asmo’s part, spoilers for lessons 16+
Lucifer
He, frankly, has no idea how we got here.
One minute they were fine, but the next Mc is shaking violently and sobbing.
When he tried to approach uou for comfort, you began screaming "No" at him and completely backed yourself as far away as possible
Lucifer is usually pretty insightful but it will take him a few minutes to figure out what it is he did wrong.
Eventually he will realize that it was the way he raised his voice at Mammon after he tried to swipe one of his priceless vases from the common room.
He will approach you slowly, soften his voice as best he can, and try to calm you down by getting you to take deep breaths.
He won't get too close at first for fear of having you bolt on him, but as you come down from the panic he will slowly inch closer.
Once you're lucid enough, he will apologize and ensure that aggression was not directed at you, and that he wasn't going to hurt you.
Lucifer will also offer you physical comfort if you want, holding his arms out for you.
He will completely abandon all of his tasks and take you to either his room or the study, and will spend the rest of whatever is left of the day listening to calming music with you.
He will make you whatever your calming drink of choice is (tea, coffee, hot coco, warm milk, etc) and ensure you're drinking enough water.
He will play games with you as a distraction. Chess, checkers, cribbage, mancala...(really whatever game you want to play)
He will also ensure you have some tactile comfort, whether that be a feather from his wings, one of the plushies he won you from the Carnival, or the gyroscope in his office.
If you want to talk about it, he will be there to lend an ear. Really he wants to learn more about you and other humans, so this will be something he is very intently listening too. He may ask some questions, but will only have you answer them if you feel comfortable doing so.
He will ask what your triggers are so he can avoid doing something to hurt you- even if they go against his usual nature.
Expect him to be very careful from now on, chosing his words carefully and watching his tone the next time he gets angry at one of his brothers and you're around.
Mammon
He really doesn't mean what he says when he insults you. He just is too embarrassed to admit how he feels.
But when he tells you your useless and stupid for the hundredth time, it finally makes you snap.
He stands there dumbfounded after you run away from him sobbing, not really knowing what to do.
After he snaps out of his daze, he immediately goes to find you. He had gotten into the habit of the insults, and you would never really give a response other than a wince and going quiet.
Well...now that he thinks about it, that's maybe a sign it has been grating on you.
He finds you in your room, sobbing relentlessly on the floor with your arms scratched up to hell and back.
At first he panics- seeing you hurt yourself terrified him. He rushes over to you and tears your nails away from your arms.
When you begin to beg him not to hurt you and profusely apologize for being "just a stupid fuck up", his heart breaks.
He would apologize relentlessly and admit to you everything- why he insults you all the time, how worried he was, how much he loves you.
He would do his best to calm you down (I say do his best because he may end up making it worse before he realizes what you need)
From here on out, he definitely would be more mindful of the insults, trying his best to be open with you about his feelings, or at least be more gentle with his teasing.
There may be times when he slips up, but he makes sure to atone as best his can
He would also be very sensitive to when others insult you, making sure to immediately come to your defense. He would also take you aside afterwards and remind you just how much you mean to him, how smart you are, how helpful you've been to everyone, etc...
Levi
In hindsight, Levi should have seen this one coming...Of course he would fuck everything up
He wanted to be closer to you, but he remembered that being closer to someone entails you seeing his deeper flaws...and well...his impatience and easily triggered frustration are definitely some big ones.
But even so...your reaction to him throwing his controller and yelling when he dies the thousandth time on his new game seemed to be way over the top.
One minute you were sitting excitedly in the chair next to him, watching him game...and the next you were literally cowering in the furthest corner of his room and shielding your body from him as best you can.
He tries to approach you, but your screamed apologies for what you'd "done" to "make him angry" make him halt.
After a few moments of gears turning, it clicks to him that you've experienced something like this before...but directed at you.
Cue the festering guilt. He never meant to hurt you...damn these video games, you're more important to him than some stupid boss fight.
He will likely text one of his brothers (either Lucifer or Satan) and ask what to do, because he is terrified of hurting you more.
Once he has an idea of how to help though, he will be very calm and gentle, albeit nervous. He will likely offer you tactile comfort- like his Ruri-Chan pillow, or letting you pet his tail.
Once your comfortable enough, he'd hold your hand and make sure you know you've done nothing wrong, and that this is something he needs to fix himself.
And he will work on it, but it will take a bit of time. Old habits die hard for Levi, so he will have to be very intentional about his work on his irritability, and will probably opt for easier games when you're around to avoid outbursts.
Satan
This is the exact situation he'd feared would happen.
It really was an accident...and Satan knew that. But he just couldn’t help getting angry when you knocked over a stack of rare books... especially after one of the books ended up ruined by one of his absentmindedly placed candles.
His room was always a mess, and even he knocked over the stacks of books littering the floor from time to time...and besides, he was the one who insisted you come to his room to read because he found the clutter in his room more comfortable, so he knew a lot of the blame fell on him.
Regardless, he was so used to lashing out at others and blaming them for his upset, that his anger came out directed toward you.
He impulsively snapped at you, scolding you intensely for being clumsy, careless, and unaware of your surroundings.
He regretted the words the minute they fell from his mouth as your eyes grew misty with tears and your body began to tremble...He must have raised his voice louder than intended.
He tried to apologize immediately but you flinched when he approached. His heart ached when he say you jerk your body away from him so violently, as if you were afraid he would lay a hand on you.
He stood, dumbfounded, as you ran from the room in a fit of uncontrolled sobs and shuttered breathing.
He caught up to you quickly though, because- in your re-activated state- you became disoriented in the spiraling halls of the HOL.
He found you on the floor in the music room, curled up against the Grand Piano as you rocked yourself back and forth and cried.
He would hesitate to approach you, worried he may frighten you more...but after hearing your hyperventilating become worse, he sucks back his anxiety and approaches you cautiously.
He would sit next to you- as close as you’d allow him to get- and gently reassure that you were safe and that he wasn’t going to hurt you.
He would try to help guide you through some circular breathing exercises, finding that doing it with you helped ease his worry as well.
Once you were breathing evenly again, he would apologize about his reaction to the accident, taking the responsibility of ensuring his room is free of hazards that could get in anyone’s way regardless of if they were clumsy or not.
If you weren’t able to talk, he would try to help you communicate how you could - squeezing his hand to yes/no questions, ASL if you know it, or in drawing/writing.
He would offer to go on a walk if you still found yourself activated, doing his best to help you back down mentally. If you didn’t want to leave the house, he’d have you help him make some tea and some baked goods to distract your thoughts.
Satan would definitely opt to read in your room or the library with you more often than not because he cant trust himself to ensure his room is clean enough, and he tried his best to continue improving his anger-management techniques he learned from some self-help books.
Asmo
Asmo is a bit confused as to what’s happening with you, and that fuels his own worry.
Did he do or say something wrong? One minute he was kissing you on his bed, making slow efforts to explore your body...and the next you’re screaming for him to get off of you and to stop.
Obviously he listens. He wouldn’t ever dream of hurting you. Just the thought of it tears him up inside.
He tries his best to comfort you- trying to hold your hand, give you a hug, or give you sweet kisses to calm you down, but it ultimately makes things worse.
It isn’t until you lock yourself in his bathroom that he starts to try to put the pieces together. Once he realizes you’re experiencing reactivation, he will feel terrible for not figuring that out sooner.
He wont intrude into the bathroom, but will speak to you through the door. He will do his best to present himself in a non-threatening way, reassuring you that he isn’t going to hurt you like others had in the past and apologizing for not recognizing what you needed.
After he hears your sobbing cease, he will announce he is entering the bathroom. Asmo will be very careful in opening the door slowly, announcing his every action before he does them.
When he sees the fistfulls of hair stuck to your hands and scratches littering your face and neck, he will have to fight the urge to wrap you into a tight hug- reminding himself how that only worked to make the flashback more real.
He will ask to touch you before he does. If you give him permission, he will gently stroke the areas where you had hurt yourself, muttering healing spells over them as he does.
If you try to talk to him, he hushes you. He doesn’t want to hear any apologies for the trauma response and he want’s you to rest yourself in every way.
He will offer to draw you a bath if you’d like, not pushing you to even have him in the room while you relax in the warm water.
If you want him there, of course he’d be there though. But if not, he won’t give any objection. Instead, he will gather as many soft things onto his bed as he can, and get anything you need to feel grounded.
Soothing music or sounds? It’s queued up. Sensory toys? He’s already grabbed a bunch from your room. Calming oils/scents? He’s lit 40 candles already, don’t you worry.
After you get out, he will help you into a nest of blankets and pillows and hold onto your hand while you relax, doing what he can to help. Anything you ask of him, he’s right there to grab it- and he is going to always be reassuring you that he’s not mad or upset with you.
Beel
He didn’t really expect this to happen when he gathered you in his arms for a tight hug after having a long day at RAD.
Perhaps it was the hazy gloom in his mind that made him forget to ask permission before touching you- like he usually does. He would ask to touch you out of courtesy before and wanting to respect your personal space, but now realizes he needs to do it every time because of this.
The minute he wraps his arms around you from behind In the hallway, you yelp loudly and squirm out of his grasp. In the process, you manage to contort your body in such unnatural angles in a desperate attempt to get away from him...so much so that he’s worried you seriously injured yourself.
But when he reaches out to your shoulder, you yelp once more and back yourself as far away from him as you can.
Everything about you looked and felt panicked. The labored breathing, wide eyes, relentless tears, and shaking body.
Beel felt his own nervousness rise at your response. He hadn’t intended to hurt you, and he was worried you thought maybe he was trying to.
Against his better judgement, he reached out again to try to comfort you. This time though, you jolted backwards, slamming your head against the lockers behind you.
Beel panicked, fighting the urge to cradle you in his arms while also trying to make sure you were okay.
Before he could really make any concrete observations though, you began screaming at him to get away from you- catching the attention of other demons in the hall. Beel would also be panicking, desperately trying to look around for one of his brothers to help.
Likely either Satan or Lucifer would be the ones to calm you down, getting you grounded back to reality by taking you into a less crowded play (Satan would likely bring you to the library, Lucifer would bring you to his office).
Beel nervously looks on while they practice the grounding techniques with you, taking note of how to help you in the future.
After you’ve calmed down, he would profusely apologize to you for not realizing he had hurt you and having no idea what to do. Even if you say you forgive him, he still feels very guilty.
He would be open to talking about your triggers and identifying what helps when you are reactivated. He would also go out of his way to learn more and teach his other brothers should they accidentally trigger you as well.
Belphie
Well, it is simply said that whoever your MC is with C-PTSD...seeing Belphie in general is probably a pretty huge trigger.
For the sake of these headcanons though, lets just say that you were able to move past the whole “He killed you in a very gross way and then tried to act like nothing happened” bit that is canon in the game, but that sometimes him cuddling you too tightly triggered you pretty severely.
He would be uncertain how to respond when you suddenly seize up and go completely catatonic when he tries to cuddle up next to you in the attic when you both lay down for a nap.
And Belphie would probably notice pretty quickly. He’s very observant, especially when it comes to you and Beel.
He thinks at first he may have squeezed you a little too tight and you were just uncomfortable. He may crack a joke about you needing to relax because a firm pillow just isn’t comfortable, right?
But he casts all jokes aside when your body begins shaking violently beneath him, and he sees your thousand-yard stare with tears cascading from your eyes like waterfalls.
At this moment, he panics. He doesn’t know what’s happening, and he’s very scared. At first he may think you’re having a seizure.
When he brings his hands to your face to try to hold your head still, he becomes even more concerned with the way it sounds like you can’t breathe.
He would ultimately call on one of his brothers (likely Beel) to help. Once Beel is able to get you to calm down (thanks to what he’s learned from Satan and Lucifer), Belphie would be eerily quiet.
During Beel’s attempts to get you to relax, Belphie overheard him quietly murmur that Belphie wasn’t going to hurt you again, and that would ultimately shatter his heart.
Sometimes he forgets just how much damage he’s done to your psyche, despite the fact that you had forgiven him.
He would probably leave- at least for a bit- because he’s worried about re-triggering you. You would either have to seek him out again yourself or get Beel to bring him back to you.
After a long talk with many apologies on his end, you’re able to make peace with it. Belphie understands he can’t undo what he’s done, but he wants to learn how to make things easier for you.
He will do what he can to help you when you’re triggered, and get whoever you think is the most helpful at helping you down from reactivation- because he knows it wont be him.
He would also make an intentional effort to be even more observant of your moods and physical movements for signs that you may already be in an elevated state that he may make worse.
Overall, he just really doesn’t want you to associate him with the terrible things he’s done anymore...but he doesn’t blame you for it.
#obey me!#obey me#shall we date: obey me#obm#obey me swd#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#obey me beel#obey me asmo#obey me levi#obey me headcanons#obm headcanons#headcanons#obm hurt/comfort#obey me hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort#gn!mc#gn!reader#obey me gn!reader#obey me gn!mc#obm gn!mc#obm gn!reader
462 notes
·
View notes
Text
TWST CHARACTER HC PT 2: Octavinelle and Scarabia
TW: Eating disorders, assassination attempts, absent parents, general twst boy trauma
Octavinelle:
Azul:
-Mommas boy 100%
-Cannot take good pictures to save his life. Whenever he sends a picture of a new dish to Jade and Floyd its so blurry neither of them can tell what it is
-Also is the kind of guy to ask “has anyone seen my glasses?” when they’re on top of his head
-Same thing with his pen, which is almost always still in his hand
-Has a hard time getting out of his businessman persona, and often just gives up completely and carries it on through every aspect of his life
-He has a hard time showing affection due to this
-Gets nightmares from when he was a kid, and they lead to him making an even stricter diet and studying despite his brain and body literally shutting down. The tweels have to step in before it gets too bad
-Before the bullying started, he genuinely loved his merform because he grew up watching his mother be able to do multiple things at once with her tentacles
-He doesn’t talk to his biological father anymore, and often times talks himself out of contacting him
-He didn’t discover his UM, he developed it after his parents marriage! He looks up to his stepfather a lot, which led to him trying to mimic his own lawyer contracts (is that a thing? it sounds like a thing. lawyers pls confirm)
-Is a huge blanket hog, can and will steal every blanket in the vicinity
-Cant watch horror movies at all, he gets too freaked out
-Will nonstop talk when hes scared
-Has the hardest time walking out of the Octatrio, and often relies on his cane or broom to help him get around
-Also doesnt know how to dress himself, he has to look it up online and match models in the magazines he keeps in his office
-Idk if this is canon or not, i think it was just mentioned, but he doesnt actually need his glasses because his vision is bad. (Just looked it up, it is cannon!) They do, however, protect his eyes from the light hes not used to at the bottom of the ocean
-He has stretch marks, even in his human form. In his merform theyre a lighter purple than his torso!
-Sings when he cooks
-Has more moles all over his body! Theyre like the one on his face, but all over!
-Despite his efforts, he still has somewhat of a baby face (only somewhat!!), he cant figure out how to change it
Jade:
-Gets very upset and sulks when people don’t indulge in his interests
-He also tends to be pushed to the back behind Floyd most of the time, seeing as he’s the introverted twin. He never thought it bothered him until people would recognize his brother before him. They used to be called “Floyd and Jade”, and Floyd was the one who told them to switch the names around to make his brother feel better
-He gets very panicky when he’s on hikes by himself, especially when he goes into the mountains and he looks down. When this happens, he either calls someone or brings them with him
-He chokes a lot. Just, a silly little thought, since drinking underwater is nonexistent, he doesn’t quite understand how to, so it goes down the wrong pipe almost all the time
-Whenhe genuinely laughs, he snorts. His brother makes fun of him for it all the time
-Also the kind to chew on things absentmindedly, which isn’t something anyone would imagine THIS Leech doing, but he does
-He was the one who pierced their ears, and he has a bite on his arm still from when Floyd chomped him the second the needle pierced his ear fin
-He has a lot of scars from Floyd biting him, actually
-Where Floyd bites during fights, Jade kicks (or uses his tail as leverage to throw his twin)
-Always got the smaller half of the room
-Loves clean things, always argues with Floyd when he leaves his stuff all over their room
-No matter how much he threatens though, he will not move into one of the spare rooms of their mermansion
-He has to share with Floyd
-For logistical reasons, yknow?
-Sleeps like a rock, nobody can move or wake him. Sometimes Floyd thinks hes dead with how still he gets
-As much as he enjoys hiking, he finds the hygiene part of it unpleasant. Being from the ocean, hes unused to having sweat, dust, and dirt coat his skin which happens a lot during hikes! He often takes a swim in a nearby lake before going to bed during these trips
-Couldnt figure out how to set up a tent the first time. He decided to leave the tent unopened and sleep on the ground
-Gets the worst back pain out of the three. Azul tries to correct his posture, Floyd is active, but Jade gets too involved in his terrariums and drawing that he doesnt realize how hunched he gets
-He is also, despite trying his best with botanical sketches, is not the best artist. He tries! He puts in a lot of effort to draw his brother and Azul, but he can only seem to draw one species of mushroom, and thats just barely
-Dont let him see that Floyd keeps all of the drawings that he either gives him or just leaves around their room
Floyd:
-He gets genuinely upset when people think of him as being less than Jade and it always caused a little bit of insecurity on his part
-He squeezes people because he read that humans use it as a greeting, and he wanted to try it out. He didnt understand why people get so scared of him over it. He eventually gave up and realized his wrongdoings, but said fuck it and carried on anyways
-He sleeps naked. I will not elaborate.
-He also accidentally flashes people, all the time
-Well, sometimes accidentally
-He will turn into his eel form and swim around any body of water nearby, be it the nearby pond on school grounds, Mostro’s aquarium, or, much to Jamil’s dismay, Scarabia’s fountain
-Gets hurt a lot, is the kind to fight off any kind of healing and complain when everything hurts (ex: the knight/guardian of the woods scene from monty python)
-He finds affection weird when returned, he’s so used to people trying to get out of his grip or panicking when he hugs them that when it get returned he just,,, shuts down
-He has a hard time communicating how he feels, which ends up in him throwing fits so often. Only a handful of people can help him say what he wants to say
-He also cries a lot, which not a lot of people see
-Hes frustrated all the time, about school, work, his brother, Azul, those dumb guppies who call him weird, it all builds up
-Afraid of needles
-I also will not elaborate
-He falls off his bed all. the damn. time. Its all calm and peaceful until one night Jade awakes to a THUNK followed by a loud, pained, lightly muffled, “FUCK”
-Which also happened underwater, except he’s just kinda… floats out of bed (er… shell?)
-Like Azul, he sings AND dances when he cooks! Hes flinging food everywhere and making a mess but hey! Hes having fun!
-Hands down the best cook out of the trio, and the best barista too!
-Enjoys hiking with Jade, even though he ends up annoyed with Jade due to being more athletic than his brother, and therefore faster (he also doesnt like being stopped every five seconds to look at a new plant)
-He grinds his teeth a lot as a nervous habit. Chewing on candy stops it
-Misses the ocean the worst out out of the three, and gets miserable when he thinks about it too much
Tweels:
-As much as they joke, they genuinely think of Azul like their younger brother and are nearly if not as protective of him as they are each other
-Have a hard time sleeping in separate rooms, as they’ve always slept in the same room since before they were hatched
-They were very small eel babies! They shared the same egg, so a lot of their nutrients were split between the two of them. (itty bitty iddle dudes <3)
-They also have a hard time seeing out of their grey eye, which leads to them being somewhat on guard whenever they’re around anyone else besides themselves and Azul
-I feel like they’ve also been almost assassinated before, considering that their parent’s “business” seems very dangerous and, considering they’re the only children, they’re the heirs to said business. This could also be why they try to appear and act as intimidating as possible
-Their stripes in their eel forms glow in the dark. They’re bioluminescent!!!!
-They used to switch around their names so often as children (“Hey Jade come here” “I’m not Jade” ((he most certainly was Jade pretending to be Floyd))) that they forgot which one was which during a certain point of time in their childhood. Their parents were the ones who told them to put their black strands of hair on opposite sides of their faces
-Also given the whole fish mafia thingy, I think they grew up seeing a lot of terrible things, making them desensitized to violence. They get upset when they see how happy and innocent other children seem to be
-They talk with a slight lisp due to their teeth getting in the way. Jade hides it better than Floyd
-They do the thing where they speak at the same time all the time, also a cause of their many fights
-They’re not immune to dumb sibling bets
-They both sleepwalk, which is terrifying to anyone who may come across their path
-When one is sick, the other isnt. Theyre never sick at the same time
-Have many, many secrets that they will take to their grave with them- most of them being dumb things they broke as kids and vowed to never let their parents find out
-Their parents did find out of course, but theyd never rat the other out
Scarabia:
Jamil:
-He definitely has the best sense of humor out of all the cast, zero hesitation will say what’s on his mind or whatever one liner he can think of (Hes also shows some traits of the genie, like in the freedom and wanting to travel so ofc he gets the humor)
-His hair is his pride and joy, and always has been. It’s been the one thing he’s had control of in his life (also prob a canon thing that im too lazy to google)
-Najma cut it once when they were kids, they still argue about it (Even though sometimes, he cuts a small piece of his hair shorter as a weird way to honor her when he gets homesick)
-Even though he doesnt have the best relationship with his parents, his little sister is his pride and joy, even if he’d never tell her. Insanely protective of Najma, and always wants to do little things to make her happy or her life easier
-Just wants to be a good big brother (and parental figure, since his parents were more focused on the Al-Asims than the two of them)
-A Caffeine Fiend, dude lives off iced coffee and energy drinks, it’s a borderline addiction at this point
-He makes good coffee though, which is a plus
-Makes the funniest facial expressions when he thinks nobodys looking like over exaggerated, dramatic, rolling-eyes expressions (again, influence from the genie being himself)
-He shit talks bugs when he finds them, trying to intimidate them (“You gonna hide on the ceiling where I can’t reach? Fuckin’ coward. You’re scared of me and you know it. I’m a powerful magician, you hear me?” *bug drops from ceiling* “*inhuman screech followed by heavy footsteps* NAJMA BUG NOW”)(hes very loud)
-The only bugs he can tolerate are butterflies, and that’s just barely
-He’s mischievous, and will often do little childish things when he thinks nobodys looking (like hiding snacks he wants to eat later, flipping little things upside down to see how long itd take someone to notice, etc etc)
-He cannot live without his hoodie. It’s his safe space. If anyone touches, breathes on, or even LOOKS at it for too long, he will glare at you until you feel your soul being judged
-Still has some of his old hoodies like that, being worn until they were literal threads
-Really into any kind of sports, not just basketball. Volleyball? Hell yeah. Baseball? Sign him up. Tennis? Sure. Shuffleboarding? Odd, but he’s not against it
-Except ice skating. Do not take this man ice skating. For a dancer, his balance on skates is next to none
-Also sneezes like a grown man. Like, scream sneezes
-He takes melatonin to sleep, he gets so worked up from making lists of what he needs to complete that he finds it hard to stay still for long
-talks in his sleep, like, full convos with himself.
-Discovered his UM one day when Najma was making fun of him and wouldn’t stop, so he forced her to shut up. She doesn’t remember, but he still feels guilty about it sometimes
-Aside from hiding in a pot, he would also store things that he wanted in there as a child!
-As we know, he was a troublemaker as a child, which sometimes reflects in the way he plays basketball
Kalim:
-Is actually a lot smarter than he looks. After being trained to run a company his whole life, he knows a few tricks to keep things running smoothly.
-Has to have music playing from his phone at night and some lights on because he has a hard time sleeping, he is very afraid of someone trying to hurt him in his sleep
-Has terrible anxiety, though nobody would ever guess it. After having lived through who knows how many assassination attempts, it starts to take a toll on you.
-At some point, he took to sleeping in his closet as a child because he felt it would be safer
-Doesn’t understand why people get upset when he spends a lot, has a hard time understanding the class differences
-Just starts singing and dancing when he does little tasks. Whether he’s doing his homework, doing his dorm duties, or even in the middle of a conversation
-Cuts his own hair, much to Jamil’s chagrin. He’s not too terrible at it (similar to Jamil, its a way for him to control something for once in his life)
-Feels the stress of having to take over his family’s business every waking moment, and it makes him sick to his stomach
-His hands shake a lot, which not a lot of people see bc of how much he moves and bounces around
-Plans to free Jamil the second he turns 18
-Blames himself for Jamil’s overblot, and beats himself up over the fact that he never noticed anything was wrong
-I feel like, given that the Al-Asim family has a lot of heirs as back-ups (which is pretty fucked if you think abt it too much, esp considering other royals in NRC don’t have the same issue), I think Kalim feels resigned to his fate of being replaced if anything were to happen to him, and he resented his younger siblings for it when he was a child
-Runs into things constantly. He just doesn’t look where he’s going, ever
-Good at playing a lot of different instruments! He also writes some of his own songs in his free time. I feel like he would want to be a musician, seeing as he has the sociable, welcoming personality, but he has to take over the business so that would get in the way
-Treats the magic carpet like it’s his brother. It would also follow him around when he was a baby, pushing servants out of the way and taking over the guardian role instead
-Poor carpet has seen many, many things
-He’s a hopeless romantic, having grown up with the story of Aladdin (I forget what they call it in TWST). He was in a similar position as Jasmine growing up, so he was hoping someone could give him some freedom to do what he wanted
-Kalim and Ruggie are fairly close in the manga, so I like to think that he tries to help out the poor in his home country more often after meeting and getting to know the hyena
-Gets very emotional at movies, no matter the genre
-Also talks during movies, and yells at the screen
-Stress eats like it’s nobody’s business, like, shoveling handfuls of food down his throat while trying to power through some hw
-OKAY SO NOBODY IVE TALKED TO AGREES W ME ON THIS BUT UHH
-I think he’d be a little pudgy. I know hes vv active with dance but most likely if you live that lavish of a lifestyle, you’re gonna be eating a lot of good food. Not good for you necessarily, but good tasting! Also the sultan in Aladdin was chubby, so it would also just be in his genetics! (even if theyre not related… hes based off him!)
-I also enjoy the concept quite a bit
-Methinks its cute (but I do switch between him being lanky and pudgy quite a bit when I draw him)
-He loves tattoos, and would get more once hes older!
-Also loves piercings, and has had to been talked out of getting more on his face many times before (He got a nose ring and eyebrow piercing in secret- the eyebrow one closed up a long time ago, but he sneaks piercings in the nose ring so it doesnt close up when everyone goes to sleep)
-He gets giggly sleepy, like laughing over anything and everything
-He cries when he laughs too, its on instinct
-Discovered his UM when he was stressed and locked himself away for a moment to cry, and then flooded his room on accident
I wish i did more for the Scarabia boys </33 their story and lore was my favorite out of all of it (the other being heartslabyuls!) I ALSO ADORED THE SCALDING SANDS EVENT AND WANT A RERUN SO I CAN GET THE JAMIL CARD I DIDNT GET LAST TIME <<//3333
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland headcannons#jade leech#floyd leech#azul ashengrotto fanart#jamil viper#kalim al asim#octavinelle#scarabia
199 notes
·
View notes
Note
Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻
Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33
King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.
Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.
He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.
That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.
He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.
On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it.
The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby.
Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad.
Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.
Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).
He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.
It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on.
Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying.
Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.
Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.
He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.
Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside.
He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place.
(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone).
When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way.
He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for.
Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch.
He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés.
Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.
Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this.
Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it.
Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well.
He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program.
He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do.
He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk.
He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes.
If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to.
(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye).
Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.
The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester.
If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.
He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other.
He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand.
All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right.
#anonymous#when.... when.... WHEN IS IT MY TURN#aot x reader#jean x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirstein x reader#aot imagines#no because he's the love of my whole life#jean fluff#jean smut#eren x reader
701 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dorms and Archons
Twisted Wonderland x Genshin Impact
Part 2 of 2
Part 1
Dendro Archon
The Recluse Scholar
𝓚𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓶 𝓐𝓵-𝓐𝓼𝓲𝓶
Kalim was excited to have a new friend! Oh the parties they'd have! The fun! The food!
When he met you, you were... distant. Did he do something wrong? Did he upset you?
He really did try to find out what he did wrong, and often sent you invitations (Malleus eyeing the invitations) you some of the parties he makes, but you don't show up nor reply, making him sadden.
Jamil low key face palming
During a normal sunny day at school, he and Jamil headed to the library to grab some books, and during the process, he found you, tucked in a corner with mountains, upon mountains of books around you, and you? You were reading.
"Ah? S/o??"
"HEEEEK!!!!"
he startled you so badly that plants from outside grew. which of course caused a commotion.
Kalim apologised for startling you, but he asked a question about your attendance, your reply was to fiddle with your sleeves before answering with a small voice that you were afraid of people despite being a deity.
Kalim immedietly thought of Idia, but he crossed the line of no return, but Kalim smiled warmly, held your hand, making you choke, and said a more softer voice that he'd throw a smaller party, just the three of them. (Don't tell me you forgot Jamil, HE MAKES THE DANG FOOD)
You accepted.
Several parties later, you two were unsurprisingly in love with each other that the students of NRC were rolling their eyes at the moments the two shared. COULD YOU TWO DATE ALREADY!?!?
When you two started dating, Kalim made a celebration, but kept you in a more secluded section, that way you could be apart of it, but not near a large crowd of people. And you were thankful for it.
As a couple, Kalim practically adores you. And he's super affectionate too! Jalim is glad to have someone more tameable and it also makes it easier to locate Kalim if he ever goes off by himself.
𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵 𝓥𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻
He thought nothing of you at first.
Until you had full scores on everything.
He had requested you to help with Scarabia's studying, in offer of full meals, which you complied with due to living in a run down dorm and doesn't have a lot of money to support themselves with.
However, the study group went wrong due to the amount of people.
Jamil then figured that you didn't work too well with large numbers of people, and he found that you were slightly dependent on him when it comes to speaking.
He ended up planning smaller groups, working on those who had the worst grades then up.
And thanks to you, their dorm gradually got better.
Jamil spent time with you whenever he was free from following Kalim, and he was fairly fond of you.
You were soft, very soft, but highly reliable in terms of knowledge. So he'd often vent to you which is surprising.
But your presence and advice helped him grow better.
Jamil fell for you when he found you smiling at a Scarabia student showing you their improved grade, you looked like a warm hearted maternal parent, and his heart skipped at the sight.
When you two began dating, it was a bit rocky due to Jamil's family duty to serve the Al-Asim family. But Kalim was very kind to allow Jamil more free time, in exchange that he brings you over for more study parties!
You figured since Kalim wasn't fond of studying and more for partying, that you'd make a study party which improved Kalim's grade by ten folds. Jalim practically wept tears that the seven sent him this angel.
Geo Archon
The Consultant
𝓐𝔃𝓾𝓵 𝓐𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸
Azul was greedy for the power you possibly possess. and your money.
Azul underestimated you since he witnessed your lack of brains in terms of money. You forget about having your wallet on you, and whenever someone offers to pay for you, you attempt to buy everything without a single thought.
This was going to be an easy contract, Azul thought. They're an idiot, Azul thought. They can't complete this contract, Azul thought.
"I've completed my end of the contract. Now you must do yours."
"Huh? Nani?"
Azul was stupefied by this, he whipped his head towards the Leech twins, both begrudgingly nodding their heads in confirmation at the archon completing their conditions of the contract.
Azul had tried to change the details of the contract, you of course allowed it the first time.
But when you returned with the conditions once again completed, Azul tried to add more.
However, you weren't having it.
You stood up and leaned down to Azul, towering over him. A sudden pressure weighed the three mercreatures, it was heavy and foreboding. Your eyes glowed a gold with the amber ombre in your hair glowing gold as well.
"I was lenient to allow you the first time. Either fulfill your end of the deal or break the contract. But if you break the contract, you will suffer the wrath of the rock."
Azul was terrified.
When Azul fell for you, he questioned himself. How in the seven did he fall for a person like YOU!? He will never remember how, but all he knows is that he's in waaay to deep.
When you two became a couple, you were far more charasmatic and charming than before, it was like it was turned up a notch. Or two. or more...
The contract loving couple have been making more money than ever thanks to the Geo Archon, the avatar of contracts. It's either fill the conditions or suffer the wrath of the rock. Or just, don't make a contract. Simple.
But then we got the one brain cell trio doing their dumb sh**.
𝓙𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓱
Oya?
What an intriguing being.
Jade was the first to be interested in you. But he couldn't exactly find you that well since you practically mixed with the crowd a little too well than he'd like. [Bro, Zhongli and Venti has statues of themselves around Liyue and Mondstaft, AND NO ONE MANAGES TO THINK "hmmm.. You know, he looks like one that statue there.. Wait a minute-" LIKE, SRSLY!!! Venti is more obvious, I can understand Zhongli since he wears more funeral consultant clothing, but he still somehow blends in with the crowd. Unlike a Lil wind spirit.]
But when the moment came where you made a contract, Jade was more than happy to hinder you, only for you to complete the conditions before he could figure out your plan.
"... What?"
["OSMANTHUS WI-"]
After that fiasco with you giving a very large heavy warning, Jade was by your side whenever he wasn't with Floyd, questioning your knowledge, in which you were more than happy enough to comply.
Jade fell for you when you showed how competent you were unlike the other miserable guppies in school. Sure you had a few problems, but nothing with a little Jade there and everything is perfect. He also favored your knowledge, specially about fungi.
When you two became a couple, it was.. Strange to say, a air headed but scary consultant with a sadistically calm eelman? That's ringing bells for everyone.
𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔂𝓭𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓱
Floyd had zero, zip, non, 100% no interest in you. Why? You looks, sound and seem boring. And he stand corrected.
it was later when you completed the conditions, which, not gonna lie, spooked Floyd.
"Hah?"
Later, he began to go after you like he did with Goldfish (Riddle), and when he tried to squeeze you, he found himself squeezing a shield instead.
He found himself utterly thrilled and had did several attempts at you, which failed.
His interest in you and your abilities heightened.
Then your relationship bloomed.
It was hard to say if it was romantic or platonic, but either way, Floyd was perfectly happy. Happy to have a partner who continues to show things or tell him things about their world.
As long as Floyd kept out of trouble and/or content, Jade and Azul didn't say question their relationship.
Pyro Archon
The Warlord
𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓪 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓻
Who are you? What are you? Why are you here? What are you doing? Get out.
Leona didn't care for you, not one single bit. Until you messed with his sleep schedule due to your chaoticness.
Whenever your around, you just bring trouble with you. And he doesn't like it one bit.
And when you bring trouble, you bring noise.
Which officially ruins his nap times.
However, Leona praises and respects your prowess in battle. You always gave it your all, which he liked. You weren't holding back, which allowed him to gauge how powerful you were as a deity with or without your element.
As it turns out, you're stronger than what you make yourself out to be, but what catches Leona's attention the most, was how calculating you were. It was as if you were analyzing him
To be honest, he felt violated.
At most times, you're energetic, but when your quiet or serious, it's either pack your sh** and leave or get out of their way.
Because when your either if those, you will either send someone to the nurse with severe casualties or some of the schools property will be destroyed. And of course, there is a justified reason for this.
Other than to make Crowley very upset of course.
Leona fell for you with your strength. He loves a woman who can lead and he could just relax. Unless it comes to some other type of leadership, like in the bedroom, then that will change. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
These two are dangerous as a couple when Leona's awake and active. And when Leona's on the move, expect a gremlin to be tailing after him, and be sure to clear out of their way. Mercy didn't in their vocabulary.
𝓡𝓾𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓮 ��𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓱𝓲
Huh? Do I know you? No? Goodbye.
Ruggie, quite literally, didn't give a rats ass about you.
To him, you were like any other beast man, rowdy and rough, other than your form that is.
But thankfully, you knew how to take care of yourself. Less work for Ruggie. I guess.
Not only that you knew how to cook. That was a god sent gift to Ruggie. Sadly though, you only know how to make mostly meat dishes. If it contains vegetables, expect the veggies to be over seasoned.
Leona was scared when he saw you in the kitchen, only to calm down seeing you being calm and not rowdy.
Ruggie fell for your cooking. He is literally the term "To get to a mans heart, you go through their stomach". although you should work on cooking vegetables better for a more healthier lifestyle.
𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓸𝔀𝓵
Strong? Strong.
You two are 100% besties.
You two are glued to the hip whenever you guys are free or share classes.
You both like to exercise and spar, so you two mostly go for each other.
To say the least, Jack mostly saw you as a sibling. Sorry, no romance.
Jack often scolds you for not eating more vegetables.
Which makes you pout and huff.
Cute lil tyke - Leona
Hydro Archon
The Judge
𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼
Nice, another rule setter like me. We're gonna be great friends.
"Explain why two cubes of sugar should be in a lemon tea? It's blasphemy."
I see you have chosen violence 😌
Riddle at first liked you, until you learned about the rules of the Queen of Hearts, did he start to hate you.
"BE QUIET OR IT'S OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"
He loathed you.
He thought that since your a judge, you'd understand the rules, much like him. But no, you judged the rules as well, evaluating if they are fair or not.
Whenever you call out on the rules that appeared ridiculously stupid to have (like the two sugar cubes in lemon tea. That's bs to you.)
After the overblot, you were more nicer when he changed.
He stand corrected.
But he didn't mind it, he low key enjoyed arguing with you, without him screaming at you of course.
You two as a couple sends fear in everyone. A judge and a tyrant? That's a deadly combo.
𝓣𝓻𝓮𝔂 𝓒𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻
Trey had taken a liking to you, seeing how similar you are to Riddle.
He enjoyed answering your questions about rules, but if there were rules he can't remember, he'd look at them with you to not only answer your question, but to commit them to memory in case.
What he's scared of is when you give trials regarding about incidents. Riddle would present his case then the 'innocent' or innocent would present theirs.
If the person is guilty, you ensure punishment, because like Riddle, you detest rule breakers unless in reason. You didn't mind them bending the rules as long as it doesn't break.
Trey is envious of your abilities, but you reassure him the his Doodle Suit is superior if you can use it against others magic.
You often praised him as well.
You admitted to thinking about a scenario of if Trey was born in Tevyat, he'd receive a hydro vision.
He flushed in response, secretly happy to have caught your attention.
You two as a couple puts everyone, minus Riddle because it's you, at ease.
𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓭
#ohmyseveniminlove #calltheambulance #loveatfirstsight #goddescendingfromheaven #pinchme #PLSNOTICEMEANDLOVEME #foryoupage
He practically fell for you.
To him, you were perfect.
"You have flaws? I only see perfection!"
He's a smooth talker, albeit feminine due to having a lot of sisters, but smooth nonetheless.
He's a simp for you, willing to use his unique magic to do anything and everything for you.
Literally fell at first sight of you.
As a couple, Cater often takes couple photos with you, at first you were content with the pictures, but at this point they kinda peeved her when he takes pictures on every occasion.
"Smiiiile~"
"Cater, I love you, but please, stop."
"If you give me a kiss I might~"
𝓓𝓮𝓾𝓬𝓮 𝓢𝓹𝓪𝓭𝓮
You're his role model.
Literally the Geno to your Saitama.
He carries a notebook with him to take notes on you since he strives to be like you. A model being.
Even if he looks smart, he still has a split braincell between Ace and Grim.
Don't hold it against him if he's trying to know almost EVERYTHING about you.
More platonic than romantic.
𝓐𝓬𝓮 𝓣𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓵𝓪
Complete opposites.
And completely disliked each other.
You rubbed him the wrong way, maybe it was because you were more justified than him, better at things than he was.
He didn't know what, it was just you being better than him. He understands he's not smart, because he foes dumb sh** with the other two.
But whenever you have to deal with their messes on their own, he feels irritated.
He often tries to get after you as well.
"Oh wow, such a god you are. Pathetic."
*cue angry archon noises with an 8 feet tall wave behind them, ready to flood Ace's ass.*
Yeah, your relationship is very... Rocky and slightly concerning.
Here's part 2! I'm happy that you read this! I will have a link to the first part after connecting the links to certain parts. Feel free to request or refer to the main master list pinned on my blog if you wish to see other choices to make! Happy reading!
#twisted wonderland x genshin impact#twisted wonderland#genshin impact#scarabia#octavinelle#savanaclaw#heartslabyul#kalim al asim#jamil viper#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#riddle rosehearts#trey clover#cater diamond#deuce spade#ace trappola
735 notes
·
View notes
Text
Does your father know? [Sapnap x reader]
Paring: Sapnap x Gender neutral!reader
Summary: A couple of nights out, that the local adults certainly aren't supposed to know about. But definitely does. And the things that happen at those parties. College AU SBI!reader.
Warnings: Fluff, so much fluff
Words: 4.6K
Masterlist: Sapnap's Masterlist - SBI Masterlist - Full Masterlist
A/N: This has been brewing in my head for days, so here it is. Please request if you feel like it. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
You are casually chatting along with Karl, and a very drunk Quackity. The music is loud in the house. You don’t remember whose parents own the house, it's more likely it's an involuntary frat house. But it sure isn’t a place you are used to coming to. You can spot Sapnap as he makes his way over to the three of you, and before you know it.
Sapnap pulls you along onto the dance floor, barely giving you time to put your drink down. You are already a good few drinks down and can’t help but feel like floating as he drags you along. A giggle passes your lips as you make your way into the dancefloor.
The music is loud, and while you have never heard this song before, you feel like you know the lyrics to it.
Sapnap places his hands on your hips as the two of you dance.
It’s nice, it’s fun.
It’s not what you are supposed to be doing.
Because as far as your family is aware, you are sleeping nice and soundly at home, and not out drinking and partying.
Well, most of your family, you could have sworn you saw your brother, Wilbur, in the crowd earlier. But what he doesn’t know. Won’t hurt him.
“Having fun tonight?” Sapnap’s voice breaks you away from your though. His face is suddenly a lot closer than before. His warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered. A grin works its way onto your own face.
“With you? Of course.”
It’s loud. It’s warm. It’s crowded.
Yet there is nowhere else you would want to be for the night.
Sapnap pulls away from your ear again, mouthing along to the song that’s playing. And the two of you dance, losing yourself to the crowd. Losing yourself to the music. Losing yourself to each other.
None of you have count on the number of songs that pass by. Each one seemingly bleeding into the next, and your energy never-ending. Your dancing ever the fun.
You can feel his hands as they glided over your body, seemingly exploring all of it. And you enjoy it, egging him on as you dance. You dance only for him. Matching your hips to the rhythm. Your eyes locked on his. His hands locked on you.
A cheeky wink from you timed to the music, is all Sapnap needs for him to pull you close against him once again. His lips ghost over your ear.
“You look great in blue.”
His touch goes from warm to hot, seemingly setting you ablaze. His lips trailing over your neck. Down to your shoulder. From your shoulder back to your neck. His teeth grazing over your neck lightly before he continues back up to your ear.
You can feel him whisper something to you, but you have lost most senses. Only able to focus on his touch. As his fingers grip you tighter.
He pulls his face back, and you lock eyes with him. A smirk is eminent on his face.
It’s clear to him, it’s clear to anyone taking a glance at you. He is driving you wild.
His left-hand leaves your side to cup your face. He pulls you in slowly, and you more than willingly follow along. His lips ghosting over yours once more. For a second, it’s just the two of you. Just for a second. But only for a second. Then the spell breaks.
“Fuck.” Sapnap mutters and pulls away. His hands letting go of you completely, and suddenly you are forced to stand on your own. You feel a bit disorientated at the sudden pull back to reality.
Sapnaps eyes are locked on something a bit behind you, a string of curse words seemingly leaving his mouth. You’re unsure if he’s muttering or talking. The music overpowering them either way.
You turn around to find what has brought him to pull away.
And there in the outskirt of the dancefloor stands a tall pink-haired guy, holding a brunette slumped against the pink guy. Or as you formerly know them, your older brothers Techno and Wilbur. They seem to be looking for someone, as Techno seems to be looking through the crowd that has assembled on the makeshift dancefloor.
Sapnap leans over to your ear once again.
“Does your dad know that you are out?” This time he’s yelling, no longer intimate or secretive whispers.
“No!” You yell back to him.
“Do you think they’re looking for you?”
Techno catches your eyes and raises a hand. Answering Sapnaps question for you.
You manoeuvred your way through the dancing crowd, leaving Sapnap alone. Approaching your brothers. You cast a glance back to where you stood, Sapnap already gone in the crowd. You try not to look disappointed, as you look back at your brother, but one raised eyebrow from Techno is enough to tell you, you failed to do so.
“Drunk?”
“Drunk.”
You sigh, as you guide Wilburs arm over your shoulder, and the three of you head into the night and down the street. A couple of minutes passes, and Wilbur starts to mumble about his big plans for the future.
You and Techno share a laugh at your brother's expense in the night. The inevitable scolding from Phil far away in the future.
It takes you exactly three weeks before you have done enough chores to get ungrounded. Although all three of you had snuck out in the middle of the night. You and Techno had been responsible enough to bring Wilbur home without trying to drive, and you had even woken Phil up yourself when you got home. Although you were pretty sure he had heard you from the moment you had stepped through the door. And Wilbur had decided that the hallway would be a perfectly good place to take a nap.
But that was three weeks ago, and now is now.
You have the clothes you want to wear in your backpack, along with your laptop and a physics book to make it believable.
While you don’t pride yourself on being a party animal, it doesn’t hurt to participate when invited. And especially not when Sapnap himself invites you.
“Bye Dad!” You yell out as you pass the kitchen. Phil sitting on his laptop, with Tommy beside him looking close to crying in frustration over homework, and Wilbur seemingly trying to cook something up. Keyword trying.
“Wait up!” Phil yells out, making you stop in your track. “Come in here.” You slowly backtrack your steps, making you stand in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” He squints his eyes at you, before looking you up and down. Tommy mouths ‘someone is in trouble’ to you. And you resist against, in all better judgement, to hit him.
Instead, you lift your backpack, “Study session at Karls, remember? I’m staying over for the night.”
Wilbur decides now is the perfect time to join the conversation, a playful look on his face. He knows exactly what’s going to be happening at Karls place tonight. Despite still being grounded, you know you will see him there later tonight.
“Study session huh? I thought you had study group on Wednesdays?” Wilbur brings a hand up to mimic a thinking position.
Fuck.
“I do!” Was that too quick? You look back at Phil, “I do.” You repeat yourself, “It’s just for my physics lecture, got a test on Monday.” Phil seems to not completely buy it. “Besides Dad, I am ungrounded after all, you said so yourself yesterday.”
Phil hums. “I did say that…” He looks you over once more. “Alright. At least let Techno or Wil drive you.”
That decision is easy enough for you.
“TECHNO! DAD SAYS YOU HAVE TO DRIVE ME!” You yell into the house. You swear you can hear your brother grumble about having to drive you from upstairs. But you elect to ignore it.
You look back over at Wilbur who is now discarding his apron in favour of getting out of the house. He knows if he can play his cards right, he can make Techno stop at the music store. And he might just be able to catch his totally secret girlfriend Sally for a couple of minutes. Not like he won’t be seeing her tonight.
You listen as Techno walks down the stairs. Now audibly complaining about being the only responsible driver in the house.
You would drive yourself, but having one car for four people to share isn’t exactly great. You tried having a driving plan once that you could put yourself on when you needed to borrow the car. It ended up with a month of Wilbur hogging the car. So now instead, you all just always drive each other around like soccer moms.
Techno looks annoyed at you as he passes the kitchen. But you know if he was truly annoyed he just wouldn’t have come down at all.
You turn to follow Techno into the hallway but are still able to overhear Phil questioning Wilbur on where he is going.
“To drive with them of course.”
“You’re still grounded.”
“C’mon Dad, Phil, Philza, it’s just a drive, it’s not like I would be seeing anyone.”
“Fine.” Despite not being able to see Phil, you know your dad is trying his best not to smile at Wilbur’s antics. “Just a drive. You probably need to get out of the house anyway.”
And that’s enough for him to end in the backseat of the car. Tagging along.
You automatically go for the AUX, as the designated DJ in the front seat. You barely get to press play, before Wilbur has started a conversation. A conversation that is closer to an interrogation.
“So Karl’s place to study, huh? Nothing to do with what’s going to happen tonight at all?”
“Oh please.” You turn your head to look back at Wilbur. “As if you won’t be there too.”
“Techno is gonna be there too!” Wilbur whines, as if it would make the situation any better.
“Wait, really?” You look over at Techno, turning forward in your seat once more.
“Yeah, Dream won at practice the other day.”
“How?” “You lost?” You and Wilbur speak at the same time.
“The guy put oil on my sword, so I dropped it.”
You snort, and Wilbur laughs. “So much for Techno Blade never loses.”
“Oh, shut up the two of you. At least I’m not grounded.”
“Hey!” Wilbur shouts.
The car ride passes with sibling banter, and a couple more jabs at each other before you are pulling up to Karls house. You quickly get out and yell a quick “See you later!” before heading over to the front door. You smile to yourself as you overhear Wilbur asking if they can stop by the music store as he changes from the back seat to the front seat.
You listen as the car pulls away, and you get to ring the doorbell.
A flustered Karl throws open the door. Loudly greeting you, before pulling you into a hug.
“You made it! I didn’t think you would, but then again Sapnap did invite you. But you did say no the other couple of times and-”
“I get it Karl, but I’m here now.” You smile at him, letting him breathe. He giggles. “Can I come in?”
“Oh yes! Of course! Of course! Come in.” Karl guides you into the living room, closing the door after you. You stand awkwardly in the doorway until Karl grabs your wrist and leads you over to the sofa telling you to sit down.
You kinda expected more people to be here. But instead, you are met with the familiar faces of Karl and yours friend group. Not to mention a couple of Wilburs friends. Not that the small town is big enough for everyone close in age to not already know each other. The community college isn't exactly helping either.
You can already feel tonight will have a different feeling than last time. Way more down to earth, and way more chill.
Quackity falls into the seat beside you and offers you a drink, which you happily take. “It’s nice to see you not all dressed up you know.” He tells you. Suddenly you’re happy you didn’t change at home, not that you had much of a choice.
“Yeah, it’s nice not to be all dressed up.” You say, taking a sip, as you eye your backpack that was placed against the wall in the living room.
“I hear both your brothers are gonna be here later. I can’t believe Phil just lets you guys go out. My mom thinks we are studying for English class.” Quackity complains. "I hate still living at home."
“Oh no, you have it all wrong, Phil doesn’t.” You laugh, a bit dry, but it is what it is. “He thinks I’m here for a study session for my physics lecture, Wilbur is still grounded for the last time the three of us was out, and Techno is only coming because he apparently lost to Dream at fencing practice.”
Quackity snorts, “Techno lost to Dream?”
“I know! That was my reaction too.” The two of you share a laugh.
“I can’t believe the Minecraft household is filled with degenerates.” He feigns a disappointed tone.
“You aren’t that much better.” Sapnap buts into your conversation. You hadn’t noticed him walking in. Quackity lifts his hands in defeat and gets up from the couch. Only for Sapnap to quickly takes his place.
“I’m guessing by that your dad doesn’t know about tonight either.” He teases you, and you look away for a moment, your purple drink suddenly very interesting.
“He does, sorta, not. He thinks we are here to study.” You give Sapnap a weak smile, and he chuckles at your antics.
You barely miss him muttering, “Cute.” Underneath his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
And then silence falls upon the two of you. You want to keep him talking, of course, you do. How could you not want to? It’s Sapnap.
Every time he speaks, you want to cling to each word and hold it dearly. Instead, you flash him a smile, and he smiles back. Before looking away, and you can’t help but feel a bit defeated at that.
However, you are saved by Karl hooking up his phone to a speaker and way too loud music blasts into the living room.
It takes a good half-minute before the volume is lowered enough for it to be background music, and it takes even longer for anyone to agree on what playlist to be put on.
The afternoon bleeds into the late afternoon, and more people have decided to join. You now share the three-person couch with two more people, leading to you being pressed up again Sapnap. Not that you are complaining.
Wilbur and Sally have arrived too, already sitting on the floor together. Already - as your youngest brother Tommy would say - already sucking each other’s faces dry.
Techno seems to be the last person to join the gathering, bringing beer too. Of course, you can’t help but think. Of all the people he’s the only one of the three of you, that could ever make Phil buy any of you beer.
"Techno is the most responsible of you four."
"C'mon on dad! This isn't fair!"
"Exactly! I understand her, but daaaad we're both 20 why do you want to help him but not me?"
"Shut up Wilbur."
You are in a heated conversation with Karl about the right way to read document history. When you notice a touch on your left side. You stop midsentence, Karl doesn’t notice and keep arguing his side. But Sapnap does.
You can feel a pair of eyes on you, as you look down to see his hand around your waist. Neither of you have talked to each other since the quick conversation. Then Dream and George had each pulled up a chair nearby the couch and the three of them had talked since then.
Suddenly you get hit with the thought, that maybe, despite all better judgement, just maybe. What happened a couple of weeks ago wasn’t just because you were the nearest person. Just maybe it was because Sapnap actually looked your way.
You don’t let the thought get to your head too much, because the second you look at him. He’s back in his conversation with Dream and George about something you don’t really care about from the sounds of it. You shake your head; you must have been imagining stuff. He didn’t look at you.
You get two more drinks in you, as the evening passes on, and Sapnaps hand seems to find its way onto your thigh. You have no intention of getting drunk, but the feeling of Sapnaps hand on you seems near addicting.
It’s nearing midnight when a less than sober Dream suggests a game of Truth or Dare.
Techno complains against it as the only one, stating “We aren’t middle schoolers.”
So you play truth or dare.
The first couple of rounds starts innocently enough, the mood is good. Everyone is having fun. You are enjoying yourself, listening to embarrassing stories, to creating new ones alongside your friends. Finding yourself curling into Sapnaps side just a bit more.
He doesn’t protest or say anything against it, so you take it as a win, and keep leaning against him.
Then a drunk Quackity gets his turn and asks George for his worst hook-up. And the energy in the room changes. From then on the innocent truths and even more naïve dares are out the window. For stories about peoples experiences, and dares that seemingly gets riskier and riskier.
You manage to dodge most questions, keeping to the truth after that point on. Until you are unable to.
“Don’t be boring! Choose dare!” George eggs you on, and you give in. Anyone would give in, you swear the guy has pretty privilege. Most of the living room cheers.
“I have a good dare.” Dream says.
“Too bad it’s not your turn to ask then.” You stick your tongue out at him and turn your attention back to George. When you see the guy motioning for Dream to whisper his dare. “Betrayal George, I will never forgive you.”
“Too bad for you then.” His smile widening the longer Dream keeps whispering. Your worry starts to grow, you are already regretting deeply for giving in to the peer pressure.
Dream retreats and looks satisfied with his idea. George takes a moment to think it over, but it’s clear that he has already made up his mind.
“I dare you…” He clicks his tongue. “I dare you to give Sapnap a lap dance!”
“What?”
“You heard me!” George looks proud of himself, or his idea, or Dreams idea. You don’t know. Your stomach is seemingly doing backflips at the idea, while your head is spinning for the exact opposite reason.
“Chicken?” You try, you don’t notice the desperate look Sapnap is giving George.
“Nope,” George pops his ‘p’, “you’ve been boring all evening with only choosing truth. Besides we're all adults here, c'mon it could be a lot worse.”
You look over at Wilbur, who is more than occupied with Sally. Then over at Karl, who has a teasing grin on his lips, as if he knew this would happen. Then to Quackity, who looks like someone who definitely knew this would happen. Then to Techno, who looks like he could murder Dream. And knowing him, there is a 50/50 chance he’s still mad over losing or that it’s about the idea Dream just proposed.
“He didn’t say it had to be here,” Sapnap says to help you out. “We can just leave.” Your head pecks up at that. He’s right. George didn’t specify where. A smile forms on your face, a smile based on relief.
Dream starts to protest, but you have already grabbed Sapnaps wrist and started dragging him into Karls room.
You miss Techno slapping Dream over the head.
You make Sapnap sit on Karls bed, as you make sure the door is locked. You would rather die than anyone walk in on you. You look around for a speaker, and you barely get your phone out of your back pocket before Sapnap has put his hand on your wrist now.
“Hey, you don’t have to do it.”
You look at him, panic still evident in your eyes.
“What?”
“I said you don’t have to do it.”
“What?”
He smiles at you and tugs you over to sit beside him on the bed.
“For the third time, you don’t have to do it.”
His left-hand cups your head, his right hand has moved from your wrist and into your hand.
“It’s just a stupid game of truth or dare anyway. Techno is right, we aren’t middle schoolers. Fuck, we aren't even high schoolers.”
You smile at him, before letting out a quiet chuckle.
“Yeah, you’re right. I thought you would want that, though.”
Sapnap leans his head to the side. Asking you to continue.
“I mean, you’re Sapnap. Oh, c’mon on don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?” he grins at you now. The air suddenly becoming light around you.
“Please, don’t act like you don’t know. Everyone knows.” You look away for a moment, his hand lightly turns your head back to look at him, and you let him. Although the look you are met with is one of confusion and not the cockiness you were expecting.
You sigh once.
Then twice.
Then once more.
You were really about to do this, in the bedroom of your childhood friend. Jesus.
“Sapnap, seriously. This isn’t funny.”
“What? I feel like I lost the thread somewhere here.” His hand falls from your face, and you can’t help but want to chase it.
“I like you, everyone knows that. This isn’t funny. Seriously. Everyone knows I’m absolutely hopeless for thinking you would even look in my direction.”
You fall onto Karls bed, letting yourself sink into the purple bedsheets.
“Well, I can tell you two things.”
Sapnap falls onto the bed beside you. The two of you now staring into the wooden ceiling that’s decorated with glow in the dark stars.
“And what are those two things?”
“You see, one nobody thinks you are hopeless.” He chuckles a bit at that. “If anything, I’m the hopeless one here.”
You turn your head to look at him, and he does the same to you, giving you a kind smile.
“And now why would you be that?”
“Because two, not everyone knows that you like me, I didn’t.” You return his smile, although you feel a need to look away at the words, you keep eye contact with him.
“Well, now you know, making me right.” You tease or try to. You can feel the air has gone from light, to very heavy suddenly. Barely breathable. And you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, you know what words you hope he speaks next. But yet, you can’t stop expecting to get laughed at and rejected right here.
“I guess, but you see, I would say I’m the hopeless one here. Because I’ve been trying to tell you that I like you for months now.” He covers his face with a hand. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, I sound like a cliché.”
You let out a small laugh, “Yeah, you do a bit. But…”
“But…?” he asks, his hand still over his face, but you can see him peaking through his fingers.
“But I don’t mind it, I think it’s cute.” And now it’s his time to laugh.
Then slowly a silence falls over the two of you. Unlike the one from earlier, this one is saying more than a thousand words, while saying absolutely nothing at all. It’s just two people who like each other enjoying a moment.
“We should probably get back to the others again.” Sapnap breaks the silence, and you take a deep breath at the sudden disturbance.
“Oh yeah, the others.”
“The longer we stay here, the more they are going to wonder what we are doing.” You can’t help but laugh at that.
“You are sadly right Sapnap. You are unfortunately right.”
You groan as you sit back up, offering him a hand that he gladly takes, but instead of you helping to pull him up from the bed.
He pulls you down into his lap once more.
"However..." He starts, "They can wonder all they want."
You can feel his hands on your hips now. As he leans in to start trailing kisses over your neck once more.
Your breath hitches.
His teeth grace your shoulder before you can feel him sucking.
His hands exploring you as you lean into the pleasure.
You start squirming in his lap, and he stops.
"No."
You pause, as his hands quickly leave you.
"No?"
"I am not having my first time with you, with your brothers down the hallway, and my best friends absolutely listening in," Sapnap admits to you.
The statement makes your face heat up, and you try to hide away in his neck. He chuckles at the cute gesture.
"We should get going..." He trails off but makes no moves to actually get up. Just basking in the heat you apply to him.
You sigh, as you get off him, his hand now holding yours.
"Sadly you're right."
He gets off the bed and stands beside you.
However, when you prepare to let go, he keeps your hands entangled, and if you’re honest, you don’t mind all that much.
You unlock the door and head back into the living room. All conversation going stale the second the two of you stand in the doorway.
Dream ever the curious, is the one to break the ice. “Sooo…”
Sapnap lifts your entangled hands, and the room breaks into cheers. And you swore you heard a couple of people mutter finally. You hide your head in your hand, trying to hide your embarrassment alongside it.
Leading you to miss Karl throwing Quackity some money, and George doing the same to Dream.
You lift your head from your hand as you hear Wilbur speak.
“Good luck explaining that one to Dad.” Wilbur laughs, but a smile clear on his lips.
"What?" You say, as you can feel Wilburs eyes burning onto your throat. Your hand quickly coming up to try and cover the clearly evident mark.
A glance at Techno tells you that he too is happy for you, but even more clearly he is on the brink of smugness. Knowing you're going to get in trouble tomorrow.
He has been the one on the end of most of your seemingly endless rants about the moment that happened weeks ago at that party. The one that your brothers ruined, so it felt self-explanatory for them to be on the end of your whining.
Sapnap guides you, as the two of you return to your seats on the couch and the night continues.
Nothing has truly changed, yet it feels like everything has changed.
And somewhere along the night, things did change.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
#Sapnap#sapnap x reader#c!sapnap x reader#cc!sapnap x reader#c!sapnap#cc!sapnap#sapnap fic#sapnap fanfic#sapnap fluff#SBI#Wilbur soot#Technoblade#Philza#sbi x reader#cc!sapnap x you#cc!sapnap fic#c!sapnap fic#sapnap dsmp#sapnap dream smp#sapnap x you#c!sapnap x y/n#c!sapnap x you#sbi family dynamic#gender neutral!reader#delias own writing
480 notes
·
View notes
Text
Casual
Ranboo x Reader (Female)
Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts
Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.
Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤
“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“
Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.
Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.
I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.
He picks up on the second ring.
“Hey! Wh-...“
“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“
My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.
“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.
“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.
I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”
* * *
“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“
“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.
I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.
“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.
I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“
He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“
His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.
And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”
I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“
* * *
“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.
I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”
He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”
I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.
“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“
I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.
Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.
When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!
Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?
Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.
“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“
As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”
Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.
“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.
See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?
Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.
Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.
A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.
Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.
I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor. And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.
Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?
When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.
And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.
Damn do I wish I ran away now...
#ranboo#ranboo fanfiction#ranboo x you#ranboo fanfic#ranboo fluff#dream smp#ranboo imagine#ranboo x y/n#ranboo x reader#fic#fanfic#fanficiton#fandom#fluff#friends to lovers#x reader#request#requests open#reader
441 notes
·
View notes
Note
I was reading through your tags and you mentioned at some point the kazuscara roommates finding your onlyfans and I think I completely combusted—thus i present to you my brain rot of late: you attend the same school as them but you’re not actually friends, all you know about kazuha is that he’s the friendly regular at the cafe you work at, who makes polite conversation every now and then but otherwise is nothing of note. In reality he’s been stalking you for weeks ever since your first encounter, and is dead set on the idea that you’re this innocent, weak thing that needs to be protected (maybe he stepped in when you had a bad customer and your meek reply helped fester his delusions?). Scara, on the other hand, is only aware of your presence since you’re his favourite cam model that he recently found. (Since he’s a harbinger he’s probs loaded) Weeks of funnelling money towards you cause him to feel this unwarranted possessiveness, believing that since he’s been providing so much in your “relationship” that it’s time you reward him in turn. However, despite the unbridled interest they have toward you neither are aware of each other’s feelings for you— that is, until you happen to run into the both of them heading to your class. While both are known for maintaining their stoic masks, they’re friends for a reason— and instantly can tell the attraction their roommates have towards their own “lover”. After kazuha finds your onlyfans he’s certain that you’ve been coerced and wants to save you, while scara thinks it’s time that he’s stopped letting other plebeians look at his possession—so, despite their initial reservations, come together to form the ideal plan. When you find yourself waking up groggy in a room you don’t recognize, all they can do is look on with glee whilst planning their next course of action with their new belonging. They’re friends after all, and good friends share though, don’t they?
This is v long srry lol you can ignore this ofc!!
AAAH, ANON!! YES!!! <3 I couldn’t resist writing more on this concept. orz They make for such a terrifying pair when they work together!
(cw: yandere, stalking, nsfw, implied kidnapping/drugging, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, delusional thoughts, savior complex, implied violence)
What if Kazuha and Scara were just acquainted with one another and actually became closer through their mutual obsession with you? Yes, they’re roommates and ought to get along because they’re living together but they haven’t exactly clicked yet. They talk every now and then and know little things about each other. Nothing too special. They don’t really hang out outside of their dorm either, what with their class schedules being vastly different. And Kazuha’s always out of the dorm doing who-knows-what. Most of his time is spent at a café, where he’ll write and read and stare at you while you work. On the other hand, Scara prefers to stay inside if he doesn’t have a good reason to go out. He likes his alone time. Although he has enjoyed going to the library every now and then to study.
So maybe they need to find some common ground. Maybe they need a push in the right direction before they get closer.
Kazuha likes to stare. Talking to you is great, but he worries he’ll say too much and then he’ll be a nuisance, or you might not want to talk to him at all since you’re working. But you always regard him with a warm smile, happy to scribble his name on the plastic cup because you remember him. Because you recognize his familiar face and soft, gentle eyes. He’s the one who saved you from that rude customer, after all, and he’s a polite regular. Why wouldn’t you know him? You might look like you can handle those types of situations, but what Kazuha saw that day was something entirely different. You were nervous—so soft-spoken and scared. He absolutely has to protect you from those kinds of people now, doesn’t he?
And he does exactly that. He’s your second pair of eyes—your valiant knight in shining armor—who sees and hears all. Sometimes he goes to the café with the intention to simply watch over you and make sure no one’s bothering you. He can recall one time when a customer was speaking rudely about you because her drink hadn’t been prepared in a ‘timely manner.’ In reality it’s impossible to make a drink within a few seconds, especially when you’re already preoccupied with making another customer’s drink. She must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe she’s just a hateful person in general. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such fiery insults, though.
Her eyes just can’t see your perfection and therefore she does not deserve to see out of them.
Kazuha’s willing to wrestle with all of this darkness if it means you’ll stay safe, oblivious, and pure. You’re like a defenseless kitten, unable to protect yourself from the scary world. He writes about you a lot in his journal; you’re his muse—someone who constantly shows up in poems and short paragraphs where he tries to describe what your dream date might be or what type of wedding you’d prefer. Things get darker the deeper you delve into his writings, where you’ll find entries in great detail. Kazuha writes a lot and he doesn’t even mean to. He just has to get all of his thoughts on paper before they abandon him and he’s left with emptiness.
Everything you do is pure; you’re almost an equivalent to a holy being. Your smell is pure. Your body is pure. Your actions are pure. Your smile is pure. Even when you’re on the verge of crying from harsh customers or when you’re turning down a confession, you’re still pure. And Kazuha likes that about you because it’s special. There aren’t many people in his life who are completely pure. He’s been through a lot of rough things and has seen firsthand how impure people can be. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to protect purity itself.
He might have some impurities, but that doesn’t deter him from watching over you. As gentle and unassuming as he is, there are times when even he loses his composure. Not many are privy to these dark emotions of his. His smiles are sharp and venomous and his eyes fill with a gloom so dark it can swallow you whole. You’ll never see this side of him; he won’t allow it. Instead you’re treated to his sweet, calm side, where he feigns perfection in hopes of catching your interest.
As for Scara… He doesn’t really care about Kazuha in the beginning. He’s just someone he has to live with. It’s not a big deal and as long as he doesn’t try to make lots of pointless conversation everything will be okay. He prefers the peace and quiet, considering he’s acquainted with people who are far from peaceful and quiet. Scara’s relieved that Kazuha leaves the dorm so often because it gives him an opportunity to watch his favorite cam star’s most recent video. He’s your most loyal follower—someone who’s paid lots of money just to have access to the highest tier of rewards and such. He even got a private video where you addressed him and moaned out his name with lustful thoughts of him. Having lots of money comes in handy.
When he finds out that you go to the same school as him, he’s a little shocked. He didn’t expect you to be so close. You’re practically within touching distance. If only he knew your schedule. If only you were in one of his classes. It’s really annoying that he only knows your online presence and not who you might be in your personal life. The last thing he’s going to do is consult Childe, that popular athlete who knows literally everyone in the school for whatever reason. Surely he knows you. But he’ll die before he ever asks Childe for a favor.
Scara loves you out of every other cam model because you’re different. You’re not just trying to get fast cash. You’re genuine. You listen to your subscribers and their feedback. You do your best to improve and do even better streams than the previous ones. All of your hard work is overlooked by the other fools who watch your streams, but it isn’t overlooked by him. Scara appreciates your attention to detail and the way you’re able to hook him with your breathless voice alone. You’re very skilled at what you do, so it’s only fair you get paid for it.
But buying your services isn’t enough. It’s not a real relationship, but it certainly feels like it when he buys preferential treatment. Private shows, special requests, odd favors—you do it all because he pays for it. But this relationship isn’t going to be one-sided forever. You’ll have to pay him back in full eventually. Scara likes to think he has patience and that waiting is fine. It gives him more time to plan his next move—to figure out what he should do to finally have you all to himself. So that those private shows he watches through a screen can finally be real.
Scara finds the journal sitting innocently on Kazuha’s bed, its maroon cover and maple leaves pulling at his curiosity. He might not know everything about Kazuha, but he’d recognize this journal anywhere. His roommate almost always has it on his person. Scara wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with it. To say he’s curious would be absolutely correct. He can only wonder what Kazuha writes in that thing. Perhaps it’s just notes for a class. That’s what anyone would think, right?
Scara opens it and flips through the first few pages. They’re normal for the most part. Just a bunch of haikus and other useless scribbles. When he skips over some pages, he starts to find things that are far more interesting than poetry and doodles of cats. He finds the majority of the journal is comprised of information. More specifically, there are facts and other knowledge about you—the cam model he’s been obsessed with ever since he stumbled upon your onlyfans. He reads through as much of the journal as he can and instantly learns so much: your address, your roommate, your workplace, your friends’ names, names of any potential exes. The list goes on and on.
Scara doesn’t have anything against Kazuha. His first impression of him wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He thought he was a pushover at first. But now that he knows what this journal holds… Well, it sheds an entirely new light on his roommate.
Just days before Scara took a peek inside his journal, Kazuha discovers your secret online life. He snoops through Scara’s laptop when he steps out, having left it open and unlocked. He’s just trying to find what could have caught Scara’s interest, as he’s almost always glued to his laptop on specific days at specific times, with his headphones on and his gaze unyielding. He doesn’t intend to find the file of one of your private videos—something that was meant only for Scara’s eyes.
He clicks on the video out of interest. He’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t this. Kazuha sits there and stares at the sight before him. You’re dressed in skimpy lingerie and you’re muttering the dirtiest things while coating your fingers in lube. And your hands are stroking a thick toy and you’re addressing Scara and you’re lining it up to your hole and— He shuts the laptop before it can get even more explicit than it already is. He’s so conflicted, fraught with a betrayal so strong it weighs his heart down.
Why would he have this sort of video on his laptop? Did you give it to him? Did he make you do this? Are you in danger? Are you still pure?
Kazuha can’t kill on campus. It’s way too risky and he’d be one of the first suspects if Scara’s body is found. Besides, it’s not like he has the full story. He doesn’t know whether or not Scara’s done something that’s worthy of death. You could just be in a tight spot. He knows how easily you give in when you’re under pressure. Maybe you’re just doing this because you feel like it’s the only thing you can do. Not to worry; Kazuha will save you before Scara can ruin your purity with his twisted fantasies.
They confront each other when the time feels right. Kazuha struggles to keep a smile plastered to his face for the sake of politeness, while Scara holds in his raging temper so that he can bear some semblance of cooperation. Neither of them is happy to hear that the other went through their stuff, but they force themselves to make up because a more pressing issue is at hand: their connection to you.
Kazuha says he’s your secret admirer. Scara says he’s in a relationship with you. There’s no way you’d ever date someone like Scara—Kazuha knows this for a fact. Yet he falters at the confidence in Scara’s tone. That can’t be the truth, right? Despite this, Kazuha still strikes up an offer: If they work together to get what they both want, they’ll be unstoppable. With Scara’s riches and his influence and Kazuha’s charisma and clever thinking, they can easily get their hands on you. Of course this means they’ll have to share, but it’s not a big deal when they’re already in so deep. They both know the other’s secret; now they’re swearing to keep it in the pursuit of having you all to themselves. And luckily Scara agrees to the deal, but that doesn’t give Kazuha a reason to lower his guard.
However despite how well they work together when it comes to planning the kidnapping and actually executing it, they both have their own reasons for wanting you. Scara wishes to make his relationship with you a reality—to toss aside the screen that once held him back and finally do all of the things he could only do in his dreams. Kazuha seeks to protect your fragile heart, lest you crumble under Scara’s intense way of doing things and cling to him for salvation. You can’t do those sorts of things with Scara; he won’t allow it. Your purity is meant for him and no one else.
But sharing is caring and some have to learn that the hard way. It definitely brings Kazuha and Scara closer together, even if neither of them will admit it. If they look past their desires, they can be friends. And soon enough they’ll have to accept this new friendship if they want to avoid any unnecessary complications.
However there are times when they’ll cooperate in order to do things with you. They’re a packaged deal you can’t get rid of.
#chit chat#yandere#yandere kazuha#yandere scaramouche#kazuscara roommates#ty for feeding me anon orz#i like the idea of them being friends on the surface#but beneath that they're willing to abandon the other in order to meet their desires#but when they come together they're a force to be reckoned with#aaah i could go on and on with this concept#but i don't want to ramble#ANYWAYS TY AGAIN ANON <3 YOUR BRAIN IS SO LARGE#🧸 anon
468 notes
·
View notes
Text
let me whisper my love on your knuckles.
quest with calloused hands, scarred from the fistfights he's been in during his younger years, hands so huge and worldly compared to yours.
these are the hands of a man who has known harm his entire life, either receiving or causing it. he knows the dance of fighting, the dance of violence, has woven his life around it, until one day he gets arrested and he is alone with nothing but paper and a pencil on top of a metal desk and his bed and his shitter. he is pacing around his cell, contemplating on punching the walls down until his bones are mush or breaking his ribs so he can escape through the barred window or claw his way out until his fingers are bloody stumps. he is pacing, and he sees the pen and paper, and he decides to write because there is nothing better to do.
he writes about what happened with the job, what went wrong, writes about the faces of those who betrayed him so he won't forget them. the paper tears several times and his writing is barely more than smudged graphite. this calms him down and his mind is still.
then he writes about the life he wants. he doesn't know what came over him, but he is alone with nothing but paper and a pencil on top of a metal desk and his bed and his shitter and so he goes for it. i think i'd like to have a house with a big yard, he starts. so my dog can run around freely and maybe i can take care of a few plants.
and it's simple--so simple, a man reduced to his basic wants--but this calms him down and his mind is the stillest it's ever been in months, maybe years. he writes and writes until the graphite is gone and he cannot feel the wounds on his face.
he writes and writes and he is gripped by a need to put everything down on paper, deconstructed photographs of the world. he writes about his childhood, writes about the sunday dinners with his family, writes about how his mother's smile lifted a bit higher to the left. he writes about the prison facility and how one guard reminded him of his best friend and how the brick feels against his back and how the dust swirls in the morning light when the sunbeams come into his cell. he writes about the world beyond this one, worlds of magic and horror and worlds where he is given another chance and where he is loved in such simple but complete ways. he writes until his fingers are calloused and the cheap foam of his bed has a dent on the spot he always sits at. this calms him down and his mind is still.
when he gets out, his palms itch and his fingertips trace over the jagged skin of his scarred knuckles. he is alone with nothing but paper and pen in a manila envelope with his clothes from a different life. he is a better man now, wiser, kinder, and with better temperament, but he has known the confines of the cell and allowed it to become his home, and something about being let back out into the world makes him nervous. he clutches the envelope tighter as he waits for his cab to arrive in the prison parking lot. someday i will have a house with a big yard so my dog can run around freely and maybe i can take care of some plants, he chants--he prays--as he sees the cab approach.
he rarely has time to write after he got out. he is too busy picking up the pieces, too busy making and unmaking and remaking his life. he studies, takes his GEDs, gets himself ready to work, rents a dingy room with only a mattress and a small closet--just enough to sleep in. it's like i never left prison, he says with a half-smile. he is left alone with nothing but a paper and pen in a manila envelope and clothes from a different life, and his anxiety for the job interview trumps the demons that usually haunt him at night. he looks at the blue shirt hanging from the closet door handle to remind himself that despite what he is feeling he is free now. this calms him down and his mind is still.
he gets the job and he is giddy. a new beginning. he keeps his head down and works, afraid that someone may see who he really is, might see the scars and ask him too many questions. he works and he reads and he reads because he cannot write, no, he must meet his quarterly quota lest someone might peek and see his past. he works and reads and comes home to his apartment now--he couldn't believe it, he has his own place, it is small and barely fits his stature but it is his and someday he will have a house with a big yard so his dog can run around freely and maybe he can take care of some plants--but this will do. this is merely a taste.
he finds the typewriter on an estate sale.
the sight of it strikes him, black metal and shiny keys calling out. it's sitting on a table along with old journals and sketchbooks, no doubt belonging to the owners of the house. the tag read "$130." he clenches and unclenches his fist. it's a little out of budget, but it represented another chance at writing, represented everything he went through in his cell and more. he buys the typewriter and eats instant ramen and white bread for a month and a half, but he spends almost all of his free time getting to know it, getting to use it. he reads and writes and works and it calms him down and his mind is still.
when he first got added to the server, he writes about it. i am a part of something now. the sentence hits him suddenly, how he is not only his own but he is orbiting something bigger, how he is given a chance at something other than reading and writing and going to work and all it asks of him is to take care of it. i am a part of something now and all i have to do is to take care of it. like a flower's bloom. he sits and waits and he is alone with nothing but a computer screen and a cubicle and his heart is pounding in his chest and after a few weeks he isn't alone, there are people here, he is part of something now. he focuses on the server and being its caretaker, and he reads and writes and works and manages it when he has the chance.
then you came along, and he doesn't know what to do with himself. he reads and writes and works and manages the server and thinks about you, writes about you, writes about how your room looks and writes about how he thinks your hair smells when he leans in to kiss the top of your head and writes about what he thinks you look like when you're moonlit and asleep on his chest. he writes about you and he can't stop. he writes worlds beyond this one, worlds of magic where you and him meet despite the censor, worlds of horror where you look at him in disgust when you find out about his past, worlds where you give him another chance, and worlds where you love him in such simple but complete ways. he reads and writes and works and manages the server and talks to you every night, you're his angel now, and he goes home with the echoes of your conversation ringing out beneath his ribcage. his heart is pounding and his palms itch but his fingertips trace your name over the jagged skin of his scarred knuckles and this calms him down and his mind is still.
when you finally meet and decide to stay, he writes once again about the life he wants to have. i think i'd like to have a house with a big yard, he starts. so my dog can run around freely and maybe i can take care of a few plants. he blinks. you are living together now, and he looks at you sleeping beside him and he is alone with nothing but paper and pencil on top of a wooden desk and his bed, except he isn't alone, you're right there with him, and the dust swirls in the morning light when the sunbeams come into the room and warm your skin. i'd like to stay like this forever. i'd like to wake up to you in my bed, i'd like to be the one to bring you coffee in the morning.
i'd like to do everything for you twofold if you so much as ask. i am a part of something--someone--now, and sometimes i don't know what to do with myself when i so much as imagine you leave. and it's simple--so simple, a man reduced to his basic wants--but this is the best thing he can do, for sometimes the most complex feelings can be understood with the simplest words, and trying to change that is an act of bastardization. for a moment he is nervous, his thoughts getting the best of him, and he contemplates on removing that last part. but he remembers the way your face softens when he calls you angel, remembers the way you talked to him that night, all of your cards on the table, remembers the way you reached for his hand and traced i love you over the jagged skin of his scarred knuckles, remembers how you gave him a chance and how he is loved by you in such simple but complete ways. he looks at you and smiles and this calms him down and his mind is still.
#this isnt really a story skldjflksjflsdfj#im sorry i just have writer!quest brainrot#sorry theres no art along with this one guys#wasnt really feeling up to it today#koi.txt#blooming panic#bp quest#quest
117 notes
·
View notes
Note
if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together
me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted!
summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.
relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer
content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.
word count: 4.5k
masterlist
popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.
but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.
and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--
"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.
"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.
a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.
he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.
as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.
every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.
I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.
my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.
I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.
which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.
it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.
towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.
"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."
at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.
as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.
"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"
my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.
I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.
"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.
"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.
"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."
"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.
"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.
"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."
he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.
"are you struggling with the content?"
"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.
"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."
"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.
"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."
"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.
but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.
when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.
"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.
"only one minute, though. I had another class."
he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.
"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.
"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.
"I didn't know you cared."
"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.
"of what?" my expression is saccharine.
"being rude to people who control your grades."
"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.
"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.
"you wouldn't."
"and why is that?" he baits.
"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."
"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."
"not completely." I shrug.
"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.
"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."
Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.
"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.
"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.
I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.
"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.
"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"
"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.
"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"
"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.
"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."
"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."
"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"
"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.
"why?"
"well, I mean, you're a student--"
"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."
"w-what?"
"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.
he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.
"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."
"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.
"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"
as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.
god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.
"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.
"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.
I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."
one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.
"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"
"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.
"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.
"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.
"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.
"I'll be good." I practically beg.
"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.
"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.
"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.
"you're fucked up, doctor."
"so are you."
after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.
instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.
"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.
"mhmm."
"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."
"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.
he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.
"too hard, baby?" he checks.
"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.
"you like being punished?"
"yes." strangled and desperate.
he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.
he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.
"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.
"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.
"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."
he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"
"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."
"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.
he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.
his breath stops for a moment before he groans.
"so ready for me."
he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.
"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.
"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"
"Dr. Reid--" I moan.
he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.
"take it, baby. fucking take it."
I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.
"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.
"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.
"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."
"thank you." I whine.
"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.
"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.
"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.
"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."
"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.
"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.
"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."
the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.
"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.
"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.
"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.
"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.
"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.
"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.
"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.
"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.
he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.
"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."
"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.
"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.
"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."
I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."
"math is not fun."
"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.
#spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#dr. reid#criminal minds#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#professor reid
988 notes
·
View notes
Text
Our Snowfall
Pairing: Baji x Reader
Request: OPEN
Note: I cried writing this I’m in so much pain rn 😭
Baji slowly opened the door,revealing room of white color, with faint sent of medicines and anti-septic's.
Earlier he was playing catch with Mikey outside, but Mikey wanting to show off threw the ball too hard making the ball zoom across the sky as it breaks the window to a hospital room.
Baji was about to shout at Mikey only to find the blonde boy had disappeared without a trace. And now Baji was on a mission to get his ball back.
“I’m sorry for breaking your window.” Baji bows his head from the door.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Baji blinked in confusion. The voice was that of a young child and not an adult like he was expecting. He raises his head to see a small figure ,who looked really weak.
The person smiled. “The ball is on the table there. It would be best if you left before nurse comes back.”
Baji nods as he walks in and takes the ball. He notices that the broken glasses pieces were already picked up and clean.
Baji turns to look at you. “My name is Baji Keisuke. What is yours?”
Your lips curl into a weak smile. “My name is Y/N…”
Baji walks towards you. “Are you sick,Y/N?” His expression was somewhat worried.
You nod. “I’ve been here forever.” You laugh. “Mama told me I can’t go outside because I get sick easily so I stay at the hospital so Mr. Doctor can help me…”
Baji frowned. He was always an active kid who spend most of his time playing around so when he heard that you don’t get to go outside,it made him sad. “Is it okay if I visit you sometime.”
Your eyes widens as color appears on your cheeks,you then smiled brightly. “I would love that!”
True to his words,Baji immediately visited you the next day.
Ever since Baji entered your life,your life has been full of colors. Baji would always talk about how he spend his day,he would talk about his friends and all the crazy thing they would do.
He would always visit you,never making you feel lonely. Along the way he even introduced some of his friends. First he brought Mikey along and then the next Mitsuya and Pachin.
You were scared at first when Baji said they were in gangs but when you got to know them,they were just dorks,lovable and funny dorks.
“I heard this time we are going to have a white Christmas.” You said as you looked outside.
Baji who was cutting apples for you, stopped as he looks at you. “Are you going to be with your parents?”
You shook your head. “Both my mom and dad are going to be busy with work so they said we can’t celebrate it with me this time.”
You smiled as you turned to look at Baji. “But the nurses said they’re going to set up a Christmas tree so I’m excited!”
Baji looks at how your eyes brightened when you talked about the Christmas tree. You looked so happy talking about and that made you seem so much beautiful.
“I’m sure it would look so pretty-“ Your words came to a halt when you started coughing. The coughing never seemed to die down making Baji rush to your side and when it finally did,there were blood in your hands. He looked at you in horror but you didn’t seem to panic,rather you looked as if you were think ‘Not this again.’ As if this happened regularly.
“I’ll get the doctor real quick!” With that he rushes away.
…….
To your dismay the Christmas tree was smaller than expected but nevertheless you enjoyed the cake your parents ordered for you,you ended up eating them with the grandma next door.
Maybe it was because you weren’t with Baji today,the day felt bit gloomier even-though it was such a joyous day. You missed Baji.
Just when you were about to sleep,tiny knocks were heard at your door. “Psttt, Y/N.”
You look at the door confused. “Baji what are you doing here?”
Before you knew it,Baji makes you wear a thick jacket and cover your neck with a muffler not answering your question.The wide grin on his face perked your curiosity more.
He then kneels in front of you,his back facing you. “Get on!”
“Huh?”
Baji turns to you and he gives you a grin. “I’m going to show you a huge Christmas tree.”
Baji and you then sneak out of the hospital as he carries you to the main town. You gleam at how beautifully the place was decorated. The air outside was cold but it was so fresh, so much frsh as compared to the air in your hospital room.
“It started snowing!” You shouted excited as you raised one of you hand to try and hold it,only for it to melt as soon as it touches you. “The report was right! We’re having a white Christmas!” It was your first time actually being outside when it was snowing, normally you'd only watch the snow from inside.
Places were beautifully lit, decorated with lights filled with joyful atmosphere. Some with their family others on dates. As people start to stare at the sky taking in the entrance of the snow.
“We’re here!” Baji stops walking as he nudges his head at a particular direction.
There at a distance was a huge Christmas tree, decorated with fairy lights, colorful bulbs and small other decorations. “Wow…”
“Beautiful isn’t it-“ Baji stopped speaking as he looked at your expression. Your eyes gleamed as it shone,from all the lights, you nose and cheeks slightly flushed from cold but the most beautiful part was your smile.
You burrowed you face against Baji’s neck,making him feel ticklish but he didn’t mind it rather he love it. “Thank you Keisuke …” He could feel your breath against his neck.
“I’m so glad I could spend the Christmas with you…”
……
“I hate school!” Baji shouts as he messes his hair in frustration. “I don’t know why I have to study this bull shit!” Baji was currently in you room as he worked on his homework while you were reading a book. A pleasant way you guys would spend your time together. It has almost been two years since you guys met.
You laugh at Baji’s expression as you set down the book you were reading. “Come on now~ Don’t say that..I think school must be fun.”
Baji stops as he realizes what he did. You were someone who could never join school after multiple incidents of you passing out or getting rushed to hospitals when you were a kid.
You couldn’t experience school like he did. Baji huffs as he goes back to his books. “Fine… I’ll aim for twenty marks this time.”
“Twenty? That’s not even the pass mark.” You laugh at him. “How about you go for thirty at least.”
“Thats not the pass mark either, Y/N!“
You were about to say something when a sudden thought came into mind. “Keisuke … I actually was watching tv yesterday and I saw someone making a pumpkin themed cake…”
“So I thought I’d want to eat that but I don’t think I can complete it by myself. So how about you join me…?” Your cheeks flushed red.
You were basically asking him out on a date.Sure you guys spend time together alone but you never once made an offer like this to him. It has been months since you figured out you had feelings so Baji but you never really acted on it.
Since the thought of you getting rejected and in turn losing a beloved friend scared you to no end.
“Sure!” You turned your head quickly at his reply. Baji was smiling as well as he continued. “When would it be?”
You smile as you brought your hands together, excited. “I was thinking of October 31..”
“Ah… I don’t think I can join you then…” Baji replied regretfully. “How about November 1?”
“Sure!” As long as you could spend time with Baji, you were happy.
But then that day never came.
That day you waited for Baji to enter the room,with an untouched cake box on the table. The door opens to reveal Mikey,Draken and Mitsuya.
“Baji…Baji died during our fight against Valhalla …”
Would it be funny if you said you ate the cake while you cried? Probably,but that’s what you actually did. Stuffing you mouth with the soft creamy treat as tears pool you eyes.
Days after were as if a curtain closed closed your window, everything felt so much dim and it didn’t help that your condition seemed to worsen.
You were losing weight at an alarming rate,coughing up more blood at frequent rates. You grew increasingly weaker as you parents even took time off their jobs to nurse you.
But at certain nights you would wake up in tears,as you could barely breathe as you searched for Baji,hoping to see him with you in the room. “Keisuke…”
It was a peaceful winter evening ,the air was cold and places were quiet as white snow gently falls in the ground.
People outside were looking and hoping that the snow would set properly. Kids were already outside as they excitedly play out, parents in their homes were making food to warm themselves up.
“Stay with me Y/N!”
People were rushing all over the room as you dad hold your crying mom.
You head felt as if it was going to burst,a strong sense of nausea filled you. Everything you hear and see seemed so muffled and blur.
Despite you body feeling limp, it was twitching. You breathing which was rapid at first seemed to now slow down,accompanied with a strong aching pain.
Then suddenly all those suffering at once disappear.
You entered into a white place,as if each and every part was covered in snow.Your body felt light with no presence of pain that you were feeling just a second before.
You walked around too see that in a distance was a very familiar person.A person who made you life so much brighter. A person who you enjoyed every moment spend with him. A person you loved.
That person turns around as he expression turns into a frown.
“Why did you join me so early?”
You smile as a tear rolls down your face. “I guess I missed you too much,Keisuke.”
#baji scenarios#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers imagine#baji imagine#baji headcanons#baji x reader#baji#Baji Keisuke
386 notes
·
View notes