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honestsycrets · 1 year ago

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Amor y Respeto I: Mi Alma || [Miguel O’Hara x Latina!Reader]

Chapter II: Corazón

❛ pairing | Miguel O’Hara x FB!Reader, platonic Hobie x Reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | the moment you want a sign of love from Miguel is the moment that your relationship is fucked.

❛ tags | fuckbuddies, a very latinx piece, jealousy, jealous Miguel O’Hara, a sparse hobie appearance, spidey!reader, latina!reader, no translations of the spanish included, gif credit to the original owner, nsfw, female reader, some mention of blood and wounds, some creative liberties, slight spoilers.

❛ sy’s notes | not my usual fanfare and i’m a little rusty but miguel hit me straight in my heart. i consciously omitted spanish translations in this work. consistent pet names include mi alma (my soul) & muñeca (doll). this is not my usual fandom and i may have missed some fandom nuances, so i apologize in advance for creative liberties. lastly, emotions impact the reader’s healing capabilities, hope that's clear enough. thank you @lisinfleur and @ivarsrideordie for your help. i’ll be dropping an ivar fic soon, see you then!

In your cultura, disrespect was unacceptable.

You knew it. Your lover knew you knew it: but for you, there was something greater than respect. Amor. If he knew that you knew about her little escapade, oh, it would be unforgivable. It undercut the very foundation of what he did at HQ. But even between lovers, where the time you spent was fleeting and unstable, there were things you could not share. Besides... how would he know?

The day had been long. Your body ached with the dizzying speed of patrols past the vine-covered high-rise apartments of your beautiful city. Your room was stuffy with the tropical air struggling against humidity. With dried blood on your skin, the perfect remedy was a shower. Its warmth soothed your aching muscles after a long day. You found your mind wandering to problems that didn’t immediately demand a solution. How you’d avoid cotton mouth the next time you saw him. Sooner than you thought.

The shower door whizzed aside, plumes of steam fading into the cool air. “Shit!” you shouted, reaching to cover your body. Miguel bent his head as he stepped into your cramped shower and cupped the frame. He shut the shower door. Did he already know? You nipped your lower lip raw and the taste of blood turned your tastebuds. Somehow, you knew that he hadn’t slipped off from HQ just to have you. Not tonight. He had that glazed-over look in his sharp eyes, considering you the same way he might consider anyone else.

“Miguel?” you fluttered your lashes at him which winked off plump droplets of water. “Mi alma, que paso?”

“Did you know?”

You reached out to turn the knob of the water off. It creaked to a stop. Despite tracing the droplets that coasted down your curves, he watched you with otherwise uninterested eyes. When you failed to respond, he stomped closer, kicking up the water that swirled under your bare feet.

“Did you know?” His fist pounded the side of the shower wall. Your heart leapt into your chest where it fluttered painfully, encased in your chest. Miguel bared his angular teeth at you. Teeth that usually marred your neck with possessive bites, loving kisses, and teasing scrapes. He never bared them at you like this. It was always a possibility, never the reality.

You met his eyes. The certainty you had moments earlier that oh, he wouldn’t find out, was gone. Of course, he found out. Your Miguel always found out. With that dead, blank expression, you knew the gravity of your situation.

“Of course, I knew.” His chest swelled with forceful inhalation of air as you spoke. “But Gwen… I, they’re only kids. Kids who--”

“Kids? They are not just kids. Coño, I’d expect this of them,” he prompted your name and took a step forward. You took one back. Then another, knocking your back into the shower walls. You were like a small bird in an even smaller cage. Nowhere to run and still, he wasn’t about to give you the luxury of personal space. You were pinned between his firm chest and the two stony walls against your back. His voice lowered dangerously low, barely a murmur against the shell of your ear. “But you? You know what’s at risk.”

“They love--”

“Y que?” he snapped your name out again. “Tell me, when those kids destroy thousands of lives, what does that change? Have you ever stopped to think of that? Of the lives this will ruin?”

“I just... wanted them happy. If even for an instant.” You hung your head. He set his clawed hand to the side of your head, combing through the stringy strands of your hair down with a false care that you wanted to believe in. But it was entangled in the strings of his manipulation. “Of course, you have, muñequita.”

“Then can’t they--” His hand balled up into a fist and careened with the wall behind you. Your head snapped away as his claws unfurled and released crumbling bits of the wall by your naked toes. You’d have to clean that up-- later. You took a deep breath and exhaled the frustration that packed away in your belly. “Sabes qué? I am sorry that love isn’t enough for you, I am sorry that I have never been enough for you.”

“No. No puedo con esto,” he looked down at you. As he leaned in, his forearm above your head supported his body weight. “Muñeca, por favor. This isn’t about us.”

“Why can’t it be?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I just want to be with you, but you won’t let me in,” you reached out. The soft pads of your fingertips hovered by his sharp jawline eased past his ear and into his ruffled hair. For a second, brief as it were, his eyes softened. He leaned into the touch. You had your window. “Why won’t you let me in?”

Whether or not he was past the anger, the disrespect, his thick arms wound around the small of your waist. In some bid to bring you back to your senses-- to him, he set his forehead against your own, dwelling in the soft scent of your floral soap that filled his nose. You tilted your head, capturing his lips in a kiss. His body became as sturdy: unmoving and guarded.

“I can’t give you what you need.” He reached back to remove your hands from his hair and with care settled them back on your moist chest. As he made his way out of your bathroom, his warning echoed through your mind. “Stay out of my way.”

Miguel’s love was unstable. Affection, not love. If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that you always knew it was bound to fail. You were lucky for what time you had with him. It made subsequent missions all the harder, wrapped up in this innate desire to be loved by a man who allowed himself to be loved by none. Without his affection, HQ felt barren. Its many corridors held no life, no love, and no prospect of a better future. Yet, for Miguel, there you were. Your ballet flats tapped furiously alongside the ringing stomps of your partner’s steel-toed boots.

“Ay bendito, this isn’t healing,” you dabbed your fingers in the blood at your shoulder, storming past a sea of red and blue that parted for the pair of you. Your neck was oozing-- well, not oozing so much as soaking your outfit. The mission could have gone better. Sometimes your mind wandered at the worst of times. It didn’t matter, not now. It was done, he would be happy, and it would be enough for today. All that you did you did for him-- and he knew it.

“Your man won’t be happy about that,” Hobie cut through the crowd while walking backward. He made it look so easy. Conviction, you guessed, made life much easier.

“No,” you took the end of your silky rebozo and held it to your shoulder. “He only cares about results. We have good results. What does he have to be angry about? He has everything he wants.”

“Hm.” Hobie hummed, span around, and leaned over your shoulder. He was on your tail with his aggravatingly long legs no matter how quickly you walked.

“Hobie, por dios.”

“He broke up with you, didn’e?”

You didn’t have to answer him. You didn’t even need to talk to him. You could just keep walking and leave it to his imagination. Yet, your face faltered. The perceptive man he was, Hobie twisted in front of your path. He leaned his hips back and sank his face inches apart from yours. Hobie quirked a smile in his lazy eyes and an adorable lip pout. Your eye centered on his piercing to avert your focus from his words.

“Yeah,” he answered his own question. “Bet he did.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you swerved around him.

“Maybe.” Hobie shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and sped after you. “But I’m with you.”

“How sweet.”

You knew your Miguel would be there: on that stupid platform, staring at multiple screens, at a lost life, departed from his reality in any other capacity but maintaining the happiness of others. Well, others that weren’t like you. You found him in that very same position when you pressed into his lab.

“What is it now?”

“We’ve taken care of it-- Hobie and I.”

“Good,” came his dry response. “Is that all?”

“Not in the mood to talk to your girl, eh?” Hobie clicked, throwing his arm over your shoulder: not out of care, or friendship, but spite. No matter the institution, Hobie always seemed to harbor harsh feelings for those in charge. If it meant pissing him off a little, rattling up the flow of HQ, Hobie was always an eager volunteer. Hobie turned his lips to your ear and prompted your name, “C’mon, leave him. Let's go get a drinky drink.”

You bit out a cry at the pressure on your neck, the damn thing wasn’t healing nearly as fast as it needed to be. You blamed the bundles of anxiety that rattled up emotions low in your belly. It was still open, soaking Hobie too. He didn’t mind a little blood on his shorn uniform. Good for the image, and all that.

“That hurt, Hobie!”

Miguel threw a glance over his shoulder. Just a moment, but enough to spot something else that agitated him. Your normally white outfit, fluttery and light, splattered with the blood that painted your red rebozo a little redder. Or maybe it was Hobie’s lips on your ear, making remarks about beer-- or whiskey-- or-- Molotov--

“Get off,” Miguel pounced down from his kingly stoop and flicked Hobie’s wrist. He snaked his wrist away, shoving his palms back into his pants. You threw him a look knowing that it was not because Miguel told him to but because he felt like it. The devil’s advocate that he was. Miguel unraveled the rebozo from your neck. His hand grasped your chin and angled it one way, then the other, rumbling in clear agitation “You’re wounded.”

“Déjame quieta. Don’t touch me.”

“And you?” Miguel rocked back on his heels, setting his well-corded arms on his hips. Then, he angled his body toward Hobie. “Where were you?”

Hobie lifted his pierced eyebrow. “He serious?”

“I can handle myself.”

“Can you? And you-- why are you still here?” Though Miguel asked the question, it was a statement. Hobie held his palms up, fluttering his fingers in mockery. You watched Miguel run his fingers down the bloody rebozo, counting its bloodied inches.

“Vente conmigo.” He leaned into your ear. The trill of his voice danced down your spine, low and husky. Your mind wandered to the many nights he whispered just the same in your ear. You suppressed the shiver, your heartbeat trembling so violently you were sure you could hear its pathetic thumping, nearly a cry. It hadn’t been long but... you missed this.

“You told me to stay out of your way. I am staying out of your way. Give me--”

“I won’t ask again. Either you come or I’ll make you.” That was it then. A flash of disbelief snapped across your face. The gall of this man. Even though he told you to stay out of the way, he demanded that you leave the lab with him? You caught Hobie perking up to look your way with shiny curious eyes. He pointed to his chest and then yours, suggesting… something you’d ignore. Hobie slipped out a smug hum.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Hobie.”

There were no good alternatives. You knew he would make good on his threat. Not that you particularly would want to fight him anyway. Whether it was respect or obligation, you ran after your Miguel, who already walked away. You snatched the rebozo from his waiting hand, suspended in the air.

Yes, your life was a delicate balance between love and respect. You weren’t sure which of those guided you back to Miguel’s dimly lit room. Only that as you sat on his bed, your once-was lover was behind you. His fingers worked swiftly on your neck, furiously tugging at your sore neck with what felt like a needle. No point complaining. It would eventually end. You could go find the boys. They could rail you about your dating choices as they always did.

“Lyla will find you another backup partner,” he broke the silence. You rathered he didn’t operate in this limbo of false intimacy. Your lips parted into a sigh rife with agitation. The drawback of fucking your boss was this, you supposed. He controlled your life.

“No, she won’t. I like working with Hobie. I want him.”

Miguel paused short of dipping the needle back into your skin. “What do you mean-- you want him?”

“What does it sound like? I like working with Hobie. I trust Hobie. So I want Hobie by my side.” You slapped your lacey thighs and turned to gaze into those familiar eyes. “Así que, no, I do not need another backup. I don’t need you controlling every inch of my work life. I need you to hurry up.”

“Muñeca. If you’re emotional, you’ll heal slower.”

“Do not call me that,” you jumped from his lush bed. Your neck squealed for you to stop and let him fix what was clearly broken with the slack thread that connected your body to his. Oh, and what a metaphor it felt like. Your life was sewn together by a man who held all the strings in his hands. “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore. You made it clear how little you feel about me-- and my feelings.”

He lifted his eyes to yours. A long, slow look. The sort of look that made you question it all. As if the things you said weren’t really from your lips, no matter how sure you were of them. You broke the exchange first and grasped the long strand embedded deep in your neck.

“Your feelings,” he held out his hand and tugged the line, “tend to get in the way of what needs to be done.”

Startled, you looked down at his open palm. You slipped your smaller fingers into the middle of his palm and sat back on the bed. He slid behind you, pressing his core against your backside-- because that was completely necessary. With soft care, he shifted your hair over the opposing shoulder and continued his work.

“Apart from that, you shouldn’t have gone on that mission. You were distracted. If you weren’t so emotional,” Miguel murmured. “We wouldn’t be here.”

If you weren’t emotional? You screwed your eyebrows together in a pathetic attempt to ignore what he just said. To ignore the way that he demeaned the fuel of your abilities, what guided you through this traumatic thing called life. Meanwhile, Miguel functioned on minimal emotion-- the suppression of what he’d lost by protecting what he was.

“It’s your fault I was distracted in the first place.”

“You should be able to control your own feelings.”

“Fine. Apúrate. I’ll get out of your way.”

Miguel snapped the healing aid thread and ran his clawed fingertips across the long streaks on your neck and shoulder. It was mere moments that he lingered there circling your neck. As your breathing evened out, you felt your body pull together fibrous strands of tissue and heal. Yet, you couldn’t care.

“Done.” Miguel refused to address your gaze but opted to draw your top back into place to over your breasts. You stood and secured the buttons of your halter top behind your neck. That was it. You’d return to your duties, healed half by your emotions and half by Miguel. You would need to learn to ignore the love you had for him. One day, all this would be well. Miguel rolled up the excess thread around his reel.

Fine. If he was going to ignore you--

“Do you think,” you paused long enough to debate your words. Enough for Miguel to glance up with his stoic red eyes and lift an eyebrow at you. It irritated you how unemotional and consistently unbothered he could be when you stood there just the opposite. Always desperate for a sign of his feelings. “Hobie wants to fuck?”

There were some lines you should never cross. While you would never actually fuck your partner, the mere mention of the thought ever crossing your mind was one step too far. It was terribly disrespectful. Miguel’s reel plopped onto the floor and rolled short of your feet.

You slid your palms over your hips before hooking at the bend in your waist. His gaze focused on the glide of your hands trailing slowly down your sides. Sides that he often snatched in the dead of night after a warm shower. Or that he’d cling to during lovemaking. Your following words caused him to lurch off the bed. “Qué piensas? He might still be in HQ, no?”

“What,” His hand fit along your neck like a tight collar. The next moment, pain radiated from your skull and blurred your vision. The pain licked flames of excitement to life in your belly. A gasp slipped from your lips. Instead of shock, your cry was tinged with delight. With his wild brown hair slumping forward over his scarlet eyes, he was more beautiful than ever. His claws squeezed your neck, jerking and slamming your head once more. His breath tickled your cheek. “What did you say?”

Of course, he couldn’t help himself: the control freak. He was a genius. You knew he knew it was bait. He had to. But your looming threat was enough for him to take the risk. Your lips curled, laughing your words rather flippantly. “I said-- do you think Hobie wants to fuck?”

You eviscerated his already thin patience. The searing pain of his fangs piercing your battered neck seared all thoughts of Hobie from your mind. Your hands choked out a pitiful cry. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel-- calma.”

The familiar burn of his frantic biting, his violent ownership of your body, made your body slick. He lifted your hips onto his, legs dangling over his slim thighs. Crunched up against his massive body, you felt small but as if you were the focus of his world. Just how you loved to feel when you were encased in his arms.

“You think he could fuck you like I can?” His gravelly voice rumbled. His face pinched tight, daring your response. “That you can replace me— so easily?”

No, the answer was a resounding no. But he didn’t need to know that. If Miguel thought he could play games with you, you’d play games with him. The last forty-eight hours had been a blur of his rejection. It was only fair that Miguel felt the same.

Blood seeped down from your neck, a feeling you were accustomed to today. On the other hand, you weren’t accustomed to how he tore into your uniform as if it were as offensive as your harsh words. You calmly noted that you were glad to have multiple: a consequence of doing this work too long.

That was it. You slid your hands up his forearms, around his firm biceps, to his broad shoulders. There you rested your arms, knocking your foreheads gently together. Past the rage, you recognized the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. The promise that you were lying. For security under another name. You refused to give it to him: he never gave it to you.

“He is Spiderman, isn’t he?”

He shifted the pad of his finger between your lips. Your tongue slid over his thumb, crooked in your mouth to suppress any more words that he may regret hearing or that you may regret saying.

“He may be,” Miguel rasped. His lips quirked into a wicked grin. With Miguel’s sudden sharpness, you weren’t expecting to see his smile. You welcomed it, a rare delight that you found yourself loathing the more he spoke. “But you’re mine.”

His. The inklings of fear you previously spotted in the depth of Miguel’s eyes seemed to weaken, sliding his thumb from your lips, rolling past your nipple, and the muscles of your stomach. He slid past your vulva, trailing with expert care along your slit. It was barely a touch if even a graze. Words failed to form. They were a thick bolus in your throat, congealed and thick.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I thought so.”

Your eyes trailed Miguel’s strong jawline and ambled up toward his lips. Your gaze lingered there as his fingers slipped between your lips, finding your cunt soft and wet. His eyes flickered toward your shy gaze and danced his lips against yours by virtue of his words. “It doesn’t seem like you’re that interested in finding him.”

“How would you know?” you cried out when one of his clawed fingers dipped inside your body. Your hips jerked onto his hand to seek out more of him. Your traitorous, awful body. It wasn’t comfortable when he scratched you while stroking your velvety inner walls. But you always needed more of his touch.

“Oh,” Miguel hummed. He bent close-- your eyes now focused on his high cheekbones. You couldn’t look him in the eyes and know that he knew how weak you were for him. “I know. It’s the way you look at me.”

“As if--” You dropped your eyes, reveling in the pressure of his prodding fingers, the delight in having him here, with you, once again. It shouldn’t have felt as intimate, as comforting as it did, but it did. His fingers withdrew, pleased with his work. “You know I can give you what you need.”

“You said you couldn’t,” Miguel slipped his fingers into your mouth: sweet and sour with your own excitement and the scratches of blood. His hands worked at the waist as you secured yourself on the wall with your hands, knowing what was next-- and expecting it.

“I lied.” he drawled out, a long hum. He spat on his hand and rubbed himself as you watched, anticipating the soft prod of his cock’s head at your entrance. It hadn’t been long. Yet, as he buried himself in the warmth of your body, you inhaled a wealth of air into your chest, exhaling it in soft shudders. Perhaps it was the fear of never having this again.

His large hands shifted underneath your ass and pinned you square against the wall. His claws drew blood to the surface of superficial cuts. Your hands snapped to his shoulders and clung onto him for some security. You found no rest between the wall chafing your back and Miguel’s long, pointed strokes into your body. Your body burned with the pull of his dick dragging in and out of your cunt, fighting to keep him inside with every squeeze and pull. He wasn’t lying, you knew. But it didn’t matter. Not when you were his complete and utter focus.

Miguel let a word of praise slip free as he ground into you. With a wall of muscle before you and the sturdy wall behind, breathing was slight and hard to come by. It had to be what he wanted-- to make you focus on him and him alone. It’s what you deserved after antagonizing the man. Your hands found his hair, knotting your fingers in it, and accepting the ferocity of his deep, then shallow strokes into your core. Your eyes flitted shut as he bottomed out, grinding his hips in tight circles. As you came, your body furiously clenched onto his cock, slowing his sweeping thrusts.

You craved it: the moment of Miguel’s weakness. Your body urged out his orgasm with a noise tempered by pleasure and annoyance. Your cunt milking earned you a particularly firm slam of his hips. Miguel would drag you down to take it all. He spilled into you with a deliciously unique warmth, grinding his hips until spent. His forehead rested on the crook of your neck. In place of another hard bite, he gently kissed your collarbone and throat. After he finished, he settled you down onto the floor. But your legs were sloppy, weak shaky things. Miguel snatched your hand as you swayed to keep yourself upright.

“I have to go,” you held his hand begrudgingly for support. Then bent down to pick up strips of your clothes. Yet another victim of your relationship with him. You would have to... mend this. Somehow. Probably not. “They’re expecting me--”

“Muñeca,”

“Cálmate, Miguel. You know I’m not going to fuck him,” you swiped the coursing fluids down your thigh. You dragged your hand down Miguel’s firm chest and danced your finger up his chest to flip up his chin. He glanced down, puffing air from his nostrils in protest. His eyes rolled, oh so slightly. “He’s not my type. I like them big, mm?”

“You would if he was?” he bristled.

“I never said that.” You said. Despite this fact, certain needs needed to be met. Ones that if he didn’t fill, someone else would. You both knew this. Your work was long and stressful and done in the name of the man who was before you. If for nothing but that love, you knew you would keep going. You believed in Miguel: his choices and his heart.

“You didn’t need to.”

“Mi alma--” you stopped, waving your hand at his pet name. “All this is fleeting. I need someone that will meet my needs. To tell me they love me. Can you?”

He pressed his lips together and stewed on your request. You knew without a question in your mind what that answer was. In the aftermath of sex with Miguel, he was closer to you than ever. And yet, it was impossible to convince him of an actual connection. For him, it was easier to leave you than love you.

He didn’t need to say it.

“I know you, Miguel. You didn’t lie. It was the truth,” you slipped your hand from his. Instead, you opted to set a fleeting kiss on the side of his lip. For better or worse, he didn’t reciprocate. Your steps carried you backward. Then, you afforded him a small deprecating smile. “Other than sex, you can’t give me what I need.”

#Miguel O'Hara x Reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman imagines #spiderman imagine #spider 2099 x reader #sy writes #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel ohara oneshot #across the spiderverse imagine #marvel imagines

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dolliestfairy · 1 year ago

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𝑆𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝐹𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝐹𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑦 ❁ ₊ ˖ ་ ݁٬ ࣪✧ ،

Fluff Billy Loomis, Jason Voorhees, Michael myers, Jennifer check headcanons with Chubby!fem!reader who is a Flower Fairy ʚ(❛▿❛❁)ɞ

𖧷 Warning : Killing, Disembowel, Slaughtering, Killing in Public, Overprotectiveness, Mocking/bullying, maybe some misspelled word and yeah thats it.. i think. lmk if i miss anything. Reader Skin Color Is Not Announced

𖧷 A/N : Just taking a break yesterday, and now i'm writing again. hope you like it. and please give me reblog and feedbacks if you enjoy my writings :)

Enjoy Reading My Fairies ₊ ˖ ་ ݁٬ ࣪ ،♡ 🧚🏻‍♀️

𖧷 Billy Loomis

• He freaking love about the opposite vibration you both gave to each other

• would kill for you, not definetly, but obviously.

• first time he know that you're a no human he kinda freaked out a little bit

• he doesnt want to admit this but he really think that you're a cool person.

• you can grow flowers and nature and leaves and bla bla bla, thats freaking cool yk..

• would try to keep the secret that you're a fairy,

• although sometimes he cant help but let a few words about you leave out of his mouth making his buddies confused.

• but overall he really loves you and ESPESSIALLY the curves of your body... chefs kiss 💋

• really proud having a chubby flower fairy as his gf ₊ ˖ ་ ݁٬ 🧚🏻‍♀️💌

𖧷 Jason Voorhees

• thinks he doesnt deserve you.

• now dont get me wrong here, he freaking loves you and its a fact that you manage to bring the little jason out of his big mass body.

• but as we know, he's also a very very insecure boy :( so compare to your beautiful body he sometimes think he doesnt deserve you, and you deserve someone better than him.

• but you always make him feel better in bed where you make him feel so good it boost his confidence <3

• its only make him love you even more.

• and just like billy, he had no problems to disembowel anyone who dare to touch your hair in a wrong way,

• and given the fact that you're a fairy, he might get a little too overprotective of you, but its also because he love you so much and would love to keep the secret of you being a fairy tight-tight.

𖧷 Michael Myers

• he first think of you as a weirdo 😁💀

• but as times goes by, he also known the fact that you're not a weirdo, you're just simply a non human creature (unless you're actually a weirdo, that would be plus-plus <3)

• he thinks it cool of how you manage to make a flower bloom, to grow flowers with your power and ect..

• but since he doesnt talk, he just sometimes like, like he sees you 'performing' and then he just aggresively nodding at what you're doing.

• thats actually how he shows himself enjoying something.

• he also thinks your wings is a pretty combination with your chubby body.

• he would rather die than admitting this, but he is freaking love cuddling with you.

• and yes, he also had no problem to slaughtered everyone who talk down and look down on you.

• even if he had to kill everyone in a public place, in the middle of the city or whatever, he had ZERO problem.

• also since he doesnt talk, you dont have to fear about getting your secret spilled. and even if someone already like heared a little about you being a fairy, you best believe they're gonna be dead in just a few days later.

𖧷 Jennifer Check

• oh my god yk what?? this reminds me of like Lana del rey and Taylor swift friendship dynamic!!

• like she's the Lana del rey girl, and you're the Taylor swift girlie (unless you also like lana del rey just like me, it will also be a plus plus<3)

• REALLY REALLY PROUD having you as her partner.

• if someone mock your relationship with her because since she always view as an it girl or simply a 'perfection' it will be no doubt that you might get mock a bit.

• and when she find out about the fact that you're getting mocked by someone? oh god.. you best believe they're gonna be dead with their stomach ripped open.

• she gives zero fuck about their gender, age or status or whatever. if they fuck with you, they fuck with her, and you know what happen if someone fuck with her

• fuck with her is already bad, and now they want to fire it with fucking with you? nuh uh. honestly, not the best idea ever.

• and ok i know she's like very popular and she's also an extroverted lady, but she would try her best to keep the secret of you being a fairy.

• and since you both are non human, she didnt afraid to tell you what kind of creature she is.

• but she is, somehow, well not afraid, just worry that you might leave or hate her for eating a mankind.

• but overall, she's really love you and your talent, she might get a little envy about your talent or whatever, but that enviness will be quickly replaced by her proud nature about having a 'secret' flower fairy partner.

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eros-ghoulette · 6 months ago

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So I was right?

Alphas belt won't fit anymore.

Characters: Alpha, Omega Word count: 687

Alpha looked into the mirror. His hair was still messy from sleep, and he wasn’t wearing shoes yet. The black button-up he was wearing wasn’t hanging as loosely as it used to. Don’t get him wrong, his shirts always fit him perfectly, but now it was actually wrapping around his skin, making it impossible to hide anything. His small love handles were exposed to everyone, and the tummy he grew was pressing against the fabric.

But there was a simple problem: his trousers. Or, more likely, the button he couldn’t close without fearing it might pop at some point. So he opened it again and breathed out in a relaxed manner; comfortable was something different.

The next problem emerged when he tried to find a belt. He replayed the moment when Omega told him to buy belts that were a little longer and not already on the last hole when wearing them. That was a year ago, and now his stupid decision backfired in the most obvious way. He had the feeling that Terzo wouldn’t be too fond of him showing up at the meeting with open trousers. No matter that they were retired, he and Omega were ordered to be at the meeting, and not a single ghoul wanted to wear their uniforms in summer, so he had to wear something else that was formal enough.

So there was only one option… admitting that the quint had been right and asking him for a belt. Hopefully, he was in his room; otherwise, Alpha would simply borrow a belt from his closet.

“Megs?” Without knocking, the tall ghoul entered the other's room. And lucky for him, Omega was just finishing tying his shoes.

“Hmm?” he made, and looked up. “What is it?”

“It’s not by chance that you have a belt for me?” Alpha asked, closing the door behind him.

Omega grinned knowingly, tilting his head to the side.

“So I was right? Never would have guessed,” he told him, the irony sharp in his voice.

“Save the jokes, you fucker,” the fire ghoul answered. “We only have fifteen minutes left, will you just give me a belt? Please?”

The quint stood up from his bed and walked over to Alpha, giving him a mocking chuckle.

“You know… With that attitude of yours, I don’t think I want to give you one of my belts,” he sighed dramatically and shrugged.

The guitarist rolled his eyes and took a step closer to Omega, who took the opportunity to lay his hands on Alpha’s sides, squeezing them. He loved those love handles and the way the other tensed under the unexpected touch.

“But I’ll be nice and give you one,” the quint then said and turned to grab one out of his drawer. “Under the condition that you admit I was right.”

If looks could kill, Omega would be dead.

“You were right,” Alpha mumbled, barely understandable.

“What was that?” he asked, even though he understood.

“You son of a-” the tall ghoul snorted, “You were right!”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Omega laughed and walked back to the fire ghoul, motioning him to raise his arms a bit. He began to put the belt on the other and pulled him closer by the waist after buckling it. The grin was still on his face, and the big ghoul knew that Alpha wasn’t as mad as he pretended to be, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“We’re gonna buy you bigger clothes tomorrow,” he told his pack mate, his hand finding its way to his tummy automatically.

“You have a weird obsession with my tummy, you know?” Alpha pointed out.

He earned himself another shrug and an agreeing sound: “Can you blame me? I don’t think so.”

Now the tall ghoul really let out a laugh, his right hand squeezing Omega’s butt and then coming to rest on his lower back.

“I wasn’t complaining,” he answered, his voice lower than before.

And when they arrived a few minutes too late to the meeting, there was a suspicious dark spot on Omega’s neck and Alpha’s face was deeply red. ______________________

I have no idea what this is tbh but i tried and this is the best i could come up with

let me tag you here @aweisz

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

#alpha ghoul #omega ghoul #ghoul tummy #the band ghost #ghost band #eros writing #ficlet

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xiaoriae · 1 year ago

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"...AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES!"

— PAIRINGS ; childe, diluc, xiao & zhongli x gn!reader (separate)

— NOTES ; a repost from my old blog!

CHILDE was a friendly roommate, that was the first and significant trait you’d noticed since day one he walked into the small shared apartment.

he wasn’t scared to communicate directly with you, exchanging introductions felt less awkward and more livelier with his playful tone and that signature smile of his.

you didn’t think childe was richer than ordinary people like you to be honest. he probably was a broke student, just like you. after all, he did split the rent with you and so you assumed that he underwent the same financial problems people around your age did.

but when he spoiled you on your first birthday you celebrated together with him, only the two of you in the small, cozy, living room, you almost choked out the soda in your hand when you saw the necklace you drooled over the other day you went shopping, or rather, window shopping with him along the city, was in front of you.

“how much is this?!” your eyes bulging out, partially because of the shock and because you knew how expensive it was.

of course you were staring at it for too long on that fateful evening both of you strolling around the city. the necklace caught your attention the moment you saw it was shining under the sun and was displayed right there in front of you, behind the big glass.

the only thing that was holding you back from barging into the jewelry shop was because of that insane price tag.

childe instead shrugged your question off with his laugh, he cautiously took out the necklace from its purple box. “i caught you staring at it, and your eyes shone so bright, they didn’t lie when i asked you if you wanted this necklace or not, unlike your words,” he recalled the moment you quickly shoved him aside from peeking at what you were looking at and pretended that you didn’t want the item.

“as i said before, it wasn’t necessary—

childe’s hands suddenly appeared in front of you, since when did he make his way to stand behind you? you didn’t notice that.

"what—

the cool feeling in contact with your bare skin made you speechless. childe could be a gentleman when he wanted to, it was a rare occasion, of course, but if he did this to you, you might or might not have a teeny little crush on him and that was definitely a bad sign.

the moment he secured the piece of jewelry around your neck from the back, childe quickly spun you around to face him standing as you cooled down your racing heart, and the beats picking up again when you felt him patting your head.

"happy birthday to you, my first, precious and lovely roommate. now you would at least bring a piece of me with you.”

DILUC was a man who would rather keep all things to himself than talking the out with you.

that was how things had always been from the first three months both of you had started living under the same roof.

he was introverted, and you were perfectly fine with it.

he was minding his own business, and you did the same too. nothing clashed, no fights, and although you somehow met with a dead end trying to bonding more with your roommate, it always ended up with the thoughts that he might be uncomfortable if you indulged yourself to have a proper conversation with him.

he always came back home late way passed the twelve o'clock and you always wondered, what did he do for a living?

yes, you were so delusional that sometimes you thought he was doing illegal things at nights. he sometimes did intimidate you by his looks so you wouldn’t stray off that far, right?

well, the answer to your question was finally answered when your friends brought you to crash at a local, famous tavern, and oh, you were shocked, super shocked to see diluc, the mysterious roommate stood behind the counter.

“diluc, why aren’t you looking at me?”

he swore you gave him a headache. just why did you end up drunk and he knew that he would be the one taking you home.

“diluc,” you whined, for some reasons, you were super clingy, acting like a lost puppy and followed him everywhere when he tried to close the tavern.

there was no breathing customers in sight, it was late at night and even your friends left you for him to handle your drunken state.

if he could leave you alone here, he would probably do it, but to say that you peaked his interest that night was an understatement.

you ended up landing your face onto the counter, waiting eagerly for diluc to wipe off the counter and you said what weighing inside your heart the most. “diluc, let’s be friends.”

his actions ultimately stopped when he saw you looking at him with a pair of eyes that almost made his heart skipped a beat. you looked so innocent, he never thought that you were capable of doing that, or was it because you had some possible effects on him?

“hm?”

“i said, let’s be friends,” you sighed dramatically, and suddenly bumped your head hard onto the wooden counter. diluc almost slipped out the small glass in his hand hearing the loud thud. “i want to know you more. it has been like, what, 3 months since we knew each other yet i only knew you work here today,” your hands flying all over the place before your roommate placed both of his hands on your tensed shoulders.

“calm down, y/n,” he sighed, but a small smile started to form on his lips. “we have years to come, you will eventually know me, right?”

you started to freak out with his words, slapping his face away from you and a scoff was heard by the man in front of you. “you’re weird,” you commented.

diluc acted like nothing happened, he had came across a lot of situations with drunken people and he knew you weren’t going to stop until he said what you wanted. “yes, friends.”

“pinky promise?” a wide grin plastered all across your face as soon as you heard diluc words, and diluc almost, almost went red with how his heart tugging at how adorable you were right now. well, you did have an effect on him after all.

and so, your fingers intertwined, a childish promise was made before diluc pulled his hand away from you.

“now, let’s go back home together. i’ll have to take care of you so do not act foolishly along the way.”

XIAO wasn’t fond, or even acknowledged, that there was literally another person living with him. to say that you at least felt distant from him was an understatement, and maybe, just maybe, you did feel hurt sometimes with how cold he was.

your friends, who often crashed inside your small apartment seemed to notice how quiet he was. it was like he wasn’t there in the first place, ignoring you and your friends as he casually went inside his room, shutting the door and never came out again for the rest of the night.

yes, you did feel worried about him. how he was so alone and didn’t socialise with people made you wonder how on earth did he manage to share this place with you, and still treated you like you were some sort of an invisible entity since then.

no matter how many times you tried to talk with him, coincidentally, or consciously, bumping into him while doing the dishes or the laundry, sitting down next to him while he was alone on the couch only for him to say nothing and got up leaving you slightly disheveled at his actions, he just wouldn’t get the hint of you wanting to know him more.

you were bored, and xiao acting like this wasn’t going to cure your boredom anyway.

and of course, as someone who basically lived for human interactions, you knew you had to be bold enough and break that stupid barrier he had in him, that barrier in which blocking you and his solitude life far away from another.

so, one day, a thing that you knew you would never do onto your roommate caught up inside your mind, weighing onto you for the entire day, contemplating all over again whether you should or shouldn’t, because this might turn horribly wrong and you feared that the thin line of relationship you two might have would turn out to be more awkward than it already was.

“what are you up to, hm?” xiao jolted at the sudden voice behind him. he almost burnt the pancake he usually did for breakfast. sometimes he did for you too, knowing that you woke up later than him who was a night owl and an early bird all at once.

he stayed silent, but you knew he was cooking breakfast for you too. seeing the amount of multiplied ingredients in front of you made your heart all fuzzy and warmed. at least, he did care for you, even the slightest.

xiao was taken aback when you suddenly hopped onto the counter beside him. somewhere in the back of his mind, he was questioning why you were acting so happy and bubbly. you were always like this, but seeing you being this cheerful and positive made him looked at you with a calculating gaze.

“what?” your legs swinging back and forth. “stop giving me the judging look, xiao,” you scoffed. sure, xiao was a handsome man, and maybe you just couldn’t stand his good-looking face staring at you for too long.

“why are you here?” his question was straightforward, yet his tone was stern and he continued to act cold. if you could describe him, xiao would give the most 'tsundere' vibe you’d ever found in a man.

“oh, you know, just watching you doing stuff,” answering without any hesitation, you instead asked him. “do you need help in anything? you do this for me too.”

to say that xiao was flabbergasted with you pinpointing his deed was more than enough for you to understand his situation, and xiao faked a cough, proceeding to ignore you at his side and flipping the pancakes.

when he finally done, you jumped off the counter and quickly grabbed the plates nearby, serving them for you, and for him too.

“what is this for, y/n?” oh, so xiao knew your name after all, you nearly thought he’d forgotten about it. you didn’t blame him though, you were just another unimportant person in his life. “let’s eat breakfast together,” you gave him a cheeky grin, and xiao still stood firm although you had placed the pancakes onto the small dining table, yours and his were opposite of each other and you smiled at the thought of your plan since last night doing well so far.

“it’s fine,” xiao hurriedly took his plate, and you truly knew where he was heading, it was either his room, or the living room. so you did what your instinct told you, gently slapping his hand away from the plate and although you’d already sat and he was still shocked with your hand wrapping his arm, xiao quickly looked away, closed his eyes and gave you a big sigh.

“come here,” you pulled him to sit in his place, and to your suprise, he didn’t fight you back.

“where is this going?” he asked, and you felt like smacking his head for being too oblivious with your situation of wanting him to feel like he was your roommate and not just another stranger lounging across the apartment.

you pulled up your spoon. “do you want me to lecture you on how to be close with another person?” flicking his forehead with your spoon instead only for xiao to still stay emotionless and frowned slightly at the pressure on his face. “just eat, big boy. i swear if you’re acting like a lost child once again, i might go feral.”

“why do i have to listen to you?” he still didn’t want to back down, and still questioning all your actions so you quickly got up from your seat, your hands found his face and xiao’s eyes widening at your warm touch on his face, you were bold, he gave that.

“xiao,” you called his name gently, and he felt how his heart dropped at your sad eyes. “can we be more than just strangers?” you murmured. the way xiao looking up at you intently made your heart almost cried at the sight. he was a good roommate although there was a lack of interactions between the two of you, xiao still cooked your breakfast occasionally.

but you weren’t going to ignore the fact that there was something felt lacking between you and him.

and now, when you felt xiao’s hands taking your hands away from his face, you almost exploded in emotions. was this the direction of your relationship and him left you alone again? why did you feel so emotional, did xiao really had an impact on your life?

maybe he did, he was the one taking care of you in the shadow after all, although he was silent about it.

were you really that desperate for his attention?

and all was shut up when you felt xiao stood up, holding you near him, wrapping his arms around your waist and although the hug was awkward and he was stiff, it was enough to soothe you.

“i’m sorry,” his voice turned softer, silently blaming himself for doing this to you, and you were taken aback with the smell of his cologne, the small space between you and him and the gentle tone he was using.

“i’m sorry, i’ll try improving myself and be a good roommate to you, y/n.”

the first thing to note about ZHONGLI was how cautious and gentle his actions were towards you.

everything he did was so admirable and you couldn’t help to adore this mature side of him, minus when he started to go all in with an insignificant topic like who invented the coffee table or when wine was first made in the industry.

he could be an old man if he went on rambling about all these knowledgeable stuff until your brain went black, malfunctioning, and couldn’t process the information you actually wouldn’t need and use in your daily life that you just had to stop him from continuing his speech.

not to mention, he was quiet popular between the neighbours. even your friends would sometimes wanted to meet him only to drool over him and his look, and sometimes you would cut them off and said no.

the only downside of him was how he seemed to borrow your money all the time. his look could pass off as the rich if you didn’t live with him, but well, guess that was his financial problem.

even how he seemed to ace in economics and unconsciously showing his things—branded things by the way—he yet still borrowed your money just because his memory wasn’t good enough to bring his wallet with him.

he could memorise everything perfectly fine but a precious item, namely his wallet, wasn’t his priority and you were scared to see him broke one day.

thank god zhongli was such an intelligent human. too wise for people around his age and this, of course, you took an advantage of asking him to teach you when you had exams around the corner.

and you were so grateful to have him as your free tutor. he might do bad at his job but hey, at least your grades were improving.

“why did this nation called wind as anemo in the ancient times? it’s so complicated,” you frowned at the long text engraved in the thick book. it just happened that history was the last paper and you just couldn’t comprehend why the term existed when they could’ve just call it as wind.

“it’s in greek,” zhongli seemingly super patient with you and your whiny attitude, he decided to just let you be. “and dendro is also in greek,” he added. “only these two are in greek, there is no need to be theatrical about this.”

“yeah, i know, but with how many papers i’ve gone through this week, my brain has insufficient space of storage for now and this makes me feel worse. i am doomed,” you turned towards him dramatically, maybe you were being exaggerated like he said but the nervousness about failing history was unbearable at this point, for you and your mental health.

“nonsense,” he cut your acting and you quickly glared at him. “the human brain is capable of storing memories up to 2.5 million gigabytes, and there’s never too much for your brain,” he leaned back onto the cushion chair beside yours, bringing his hands to his chest and looked at you as if he was quite disappointed with your little to no efforts.

“one synapse of the brain could—

"okay, mr. zhongli, i’m sorry,” you cut his words before your supposedly history lesson with him turned out into some sort of a neurology class and you definitely didn’t want that.

“let’s be real here,” you spun your chair to see his face directly in front of you, ankles immediately meeting with his and you almost flinched at the contact. zhongli was unfazed so you decided to casually push your chair back a little without making it look awkward due to his intimidating aura when he was serious, and to make more distance between the two of you.

“so, the famous history of teyvat civilization,” you brought your fingers. “there are seven thriving nations,” you continued before seeing that zhongli was staring at you intently. it was too much for your heart to handle. he looked so cool and you were scared of looking stupid.

“ugh,” you groaned, bringing your chair back to the table. “just why do i have to memorise all these facts about this inexistent world in the first place?”

“you have to,” he answered unknowingly. “now, do you want to revise or..?” the calming voice beside you made you felt like an idiot compared to a smart man like him.

“alright,” you sighed, zhongli did have a point. this was for your final semester grade, and you knew you would instantly regret it if your grade ended up low.

“enlighten me then,” he did what he always did when you asked him to tutor you or to supervise you studying.

you took a deep breath. “there were once seven gods people in teyvat worshipped,” you peered your eyes at zhongli and he nodded calmly at your words. “the god of anemo, geo, electro, dendro, hydro, pyro and cryo. all these gods also have their own titles which are freedom, contract, eternal, wisdom, justice, war and love respectively,” you trailed off. even only in a single sentence, your brain jammed trying to process them.

“i couldn’t do this, we aren’t even at the part of each of the nations yet,” you gave up, closing the book before getting up from your seat and ultimately backing away from your study. “time to go out and get some fresh air!” you ignored zhongli’s gaze at you, and when you were about to pass zhongli and get out of your room, zhongli pulled you back from his seat, only for you to land on top of him and a silent gasp came out from your mouth.

what the hell was he even thinking about?

“you are not going anywhere,” his deep voice made your insides tingling. your heart skyrocketed and with how fast he pulled you into him, he placed you back in front of your study like he didn’t do that with you in the first place. your face felt hot, red and you somehow felt nauseous all at once.

where the heck did he learn to do that from?

did he know your poor heart couldn’t take that?

“cat got your tongue?” zhongli’s chuckle resonated through the thick atmosphere within your suffocating room.

“what’s that for?” in that short span of time, you decided to chin up and not showing him how affected you were by his actions. your insides was screaming yet you gave him a look to hide the embarrassment you felt.

“i know you would not even bother to read after this, that was definitely an uninspiring argument you had,” he pulled his chair to become much more closer than you intended him to.

there was no way you were going to focus with him acting like this all of sudden.

“y-yeah, i’ll continue,” you stuttered, and zhongli found it was an adorable sight to see.

“that's my sweetheart.”

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azulsluver · 1 year ago

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𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄

tw. yandere, implied past-noncon, reader almost dies of hypothermia, implied sharing/poly(?), breaking bones, not an expert on frozen limbs.

even the snow brings you back to him.

It was his idea to leave you stranded in nothing but a winter coat and thick pants with boots. As cruel the punishment you knew Ivan didn’t want you completely dead. Your pleas for him not to leave you out there in the cold, the wind dangerously picks up the snow to fall on your pathetic head.

Left outside of the backyard of his large estate, with the windows and doors shut with a lock, you can only stare endlessly into the void. Ivan had left you attached to the bars of one of the gates, like some undesirable dog.

Your teeth gnaws and clatter against each other, face heating up to keep the blood flowing through your cheeks. It’s not long hopefully, maybe it’ll be soon for him to return. It wasn’t like you wanted to anger him, Ivan just doesn’t respect your boundaries. And you can’t stand it when he’s clinging to your side whenever you’re at reach, arms bulking and tight from all of those clothes. Makes you remember he’s a man who won’t have any problem snapping you in half.

The sky was still bleached in a gray-ish blue tone, staring up at the sky with no sign of life or birds passing by. Your nose is runny and your lungs are having trouble breathing warmer air, 40 minutes have passed and nothing.

How loose was the leash?

Fingers nearly numb thread carefully at the leash, you can’t really feel the leather unless you applied enough pressure. A ping of hope flares in your stomach, as your fingers curl around the old leash in a tug, a slight stretch to its polish can be seen. You kept pulling until the damn thing snapped, your body tumbling backwards down the pile of snow. It hurt still. Letting out quick huffs you scramble to foot quickly, unlocking the gate with feverish force.

It creaks loudly as you throw it open, boots crunching down the snow as you forced your body to move forward through the challenging wind. There’s fear rumbling in your chest, fear of what might happen if you gotten caught. You’d rather die in the snow than find out.

You didn’t have a plan on where you were going, you never ventured out this far from outside the yard. That’s the least of your problems at the moment, all you can think of is getting away from that place. Not his hands on you, or how the servants looked the other way to your cries. Not Ivan’s fake sense of coos in your ears, not his hands ripping the roots of your scalp.

A grunt leaves your mouth as you trip down a steep hill, bracing yourself by cowering your head and arms against your body. Snow engulfs your face, not melting as it stings your skin. You’re not sure how long you’ve been running, but your legs are screaming and burning for you to stop, any more movement had caused you to become delirious, the cold catching up quickly. Your throat feels clogged with how intoxicated the air was, getting harder to breath as you rolled over to your back. The right side of your ankle twisted, bruised with blotches that’ll appear any moment.

Nails dig into the soft yet solid snow, out of frustration your hands clench tightly. You didn’t want to die, if anything it should’ve been a cool death not dying from hypothermia. The cold doesn’t let you cry, your tears would be swallowed and dried as quick as it came. Oddly enough, you’re starting to miss your bed. Comfy, fluffy with fur that always felt warm.

“That looks like a face of regret. Are you done throwing a tantrum little one?”

It’s sick, his voice makes your heart drop to your stomach as you force yourself to focus on him. Half of his body is present, peaking near the cliff as he slightly bends to muse at your unresponding body.

“You didn’t run that far haha, I gave you an hour to flee yet you took the time to catch a cold instead. You weren’t always the brightest.”

In a blink, Ivan is cradling you. You aren’t sure how fast he got down from that cliff , but you couldn’t care, not when his hands slowly heat your cheeks to life.

But Ivan’s touch was never kind, his gloved hands press themselves deep into your skin, feeling the rattle of your teeth chattering together. Your face is shoved against his chest, his scarf heavily smelling of his cologne and a hint of copper.

“Maybe leaving you outside wasn’t the best idea…but that’s ok! I have other ideas on your punishment, this time don’t try running away. I’d hate to have you sick.”

His smile dawned upon you, his cherry attitude was nothing but a tempered time bomb. His hold on you tightens, making your hiss in pain as the sight of his mansion grows closer. Back to that forsaken place.

The roar of the snowy winds was kinder than him.

You solemnly look at the leash that laid on the ground where you left it, curling yourself deeper into Ivan’s hold as he hums a tune. The house itself is warming, making blood flow more easily as you pant greedily at the air.

“Little [Name] is so silly, shivering so cutely. Let me nurse you back to health ja?”

He sings into your ear softly, not noticing you’ve been placed on a bed. Your bed, and your wet clothes soak the sheets. Ivan plants quick kisses on your face, now suddenly hot. Your mind feels a little frazzled, wincing when he unties your boots and rub circles around your ankle. Noticing the bruise that blossomed on your skin, he presses his index finger down while his grip increases in strength.

Twisting it back into place, it leaves you screaming in pain, but your mouth can barely let out any proper sounds due to the throaty cold. Instead sounding like a gurgled mess, choking on spit that stings and coats your throat like acid.

Your pained whimpers don’t go unnoticed as he tsk’d softly, large fingers kneading the flesh, but not in comfort.

“You know, I have been too soft on you. Spoiled little thing, why run from a place that has a roof and feeds you everyday. Perhaps I should be more strict with you, Natalia suggest we start with a more proper approach, you must depend on us as we need you. So don’t make this harder than it has too.”

The name sends chills down your spine, your limbs try to move but the frost as completely wiped the energy out of you. Your fingers are numb to everything and all it touched, so even when Ivan held them with his. Your ears catching the cracks of bones. Flesh and small muscles fractured as he smiles kindly at you. Like you were beautifully even paralyzed.

#yandere hetalia #hetalia russia #hetalia russia x reader #yandere russia #man these tags r funny #hetalia x reader #Hetalia content in 2023 is crazy #aph russia

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thebadboyfanclub · 2 years ago

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Fire and Water Pt. 5 (Massimo x Reader)

Look my guy I got inspired by the song Trust issues the weeknd remix and shameless Camilla Cabello, this might need multiple parts but I have seen you guys ask for it and I think it’s time for me to serve and for you guys to eat… also I would like to say thank you to @severewobblerlightdragon I have noticed them liking my stuff and almost always lives a comment I really appreciate it.

Part 4

The way (y/n) took over Massimos house resembled to a tiger being released from its cage, authority suited her as she strolled around with her chin high and her eyes making grown men shiver and scurry away after mumbling “yes, miss”.

Massimo observed her with his lips in a thin line and his hands curling to a fist, however he knew that any type of reaction would cost him an unbearable amount of power, her family was the only one that came to his aid, the only source of support and protection if he moved even in the slightest way that displeased (y/n) he would be left with nothing.

“A charity ball?!”

“A way to celebrate your success and show to everyone you are left unbothered and unharmed, a gracious move to invite every important person from our cycle and reconcile while standing tall despite the attempted assassinations”

“If you want to wear a fancy dress do it somewhere else, I thought we were supposed to protect this house not let everyone in”

“We accept people that have been exclusively invited by Ass, people who matter, your reputation is at stake, the great massimo has the tail between his legs and is hiding behind his stone walls”

“I am not hiding”

“It doesn’t fucking matter what you have been doing, that is what they are saying, the charity ball is happening like it or not, the invites have already been send out, but your… wife a dress and you better mingle with your guests, like a good and generous host. Got it?”

Massimo identified the assertive tone in (y/n)s and gaze that could burn his entire house down, he could also see his advisor Mario nod at him behind her back, a way to stir Massimo to not push (y/n) further.

“Fine, make your preparations. I am sure if you try hard enough the ball will be decent”

“It will be better than the fiasco Laura had caused, she danced on a pole while somebody called her a whore right?”

Massimos hand slammed on his wooden desk while his other hand instinctively his right hand reached for his gun and pointed it right at her chest. The scary part wasn’t that (y/n) was held at gun point, nor the expression of fury in Massimos handsome face, it was the devilish grin that decorated (y/n)s lips, unfazed by the situation completely.

“Amateur, if you really want to kill me, you aim at the head”

She instructed while her fingers wrapped around the gun and let it touch the skin on her forehead. Massimo was a man that was never afraid to use his weapons, still the way that she did not even blink, better yet she teased him about it left him speechless.

“Massimo put the gun down”

“No, let him, what are you waiting for? Just so you know if I die you will have a bigger problem than a dead body, but an entire empire running after you and my brother wanting your head served in a silver platter”

“You think I am scared of your stupid brother?”

“No, no you are not, you are however scared of me. Even if you plant a bullet between my eyebrows you will never, ever get rid of me”

As always (y/n) had gotten her way and the charity ball was buzzing with people, the band she had hired played wonderful music, the staff kept the glasses of champagne full and the platters of small little delicacies going.

Massimo had his hand on Laura’s waist as they went to greet the guests, a United couple that scoffed at the missed jabs of their enemies, at least that’s what they portrayed.

The music came to a halt as a slight sound of the champagne glass summoned every guests attention. As Massimo looked up at the start of his stairs he was met with (y/n) smiling brightly with a glass in her hand, “she finally showed up” he thought

“Our dear guests, I apologise for interrupting any conversations but we have all night for chatter, me and my family would like to thank our dear friends Massimo and his family that were so kind to extend their hospitality to us, I would like to take this moment to raise my glass. To you and your wives success, both of them beautiful, kind and strong despite all. Cheers to the perfect couple”

Everyone clapped and took a sip, to anyone that did not know any better this was such a gracious gesture, a declare of loyalty and a announcement of the two families being allies, to Massimo this was a hit below the belt, to sarcastically smile and praise his wife after everything that has taken place.

Regardless of it all he took a slight sip as his grip to Laura tightened, he wanted to kill her, grab (y/n) by her pretty neck and snap it like a twig, his eyes followed her figure when she went down the stairs.

God was she bewitching, a sight for sore eyes in her dress, the most infuriating part about (y/n) is that he always left him in shambles, to kill her or to fuck her? That is the question

“(Y/n), I have to say that speech was very kind of you”

“What can I say I have a soft spot for love, we started off on the wrong foot Laura, that does not mean we should continue that way”

She was lying, Massimo knew that much and what was worst is that Laura was buying it, his wife believed that (y/n) was genuine and did not just plan an evil scheme to ridicule him further. (Y/n) reached for Laura’s hand to give it a slight squeeze of comfort.

“I am delighted you chose to wear the dress I send for you”

“It was the best out of all how could I not?”

“And you look good in it too, I will catch up with you two later, I must say hello to someone”

(Y/n) was over the moon, just the look on Massimos face made it all worth it, his hands were completely tied and there was nothing she could accuse her of, hell she had even mend her relationship with Laura and now all eyes were on Massimo.

(Y/n) approached the person she was interested in, the only man that made it look good while being completely out of place.

“So you must be… nacho? Right?”

“Yes, and you are miss (y/l/n)”

“Precisely, although I must say nacho does not suit you”

“It is only a nickname”

“I can definitely think of others that would be better”

“Is that so?”

His eyebrow raised at the sneaky way of the woman that weasels her way in his reader, he had seen her walk around the garden, a striking presence could not be missed by any man and she had been captured by his baby blue eyes, the man was sculpted by the Gods and she just so happened to be in need of a hobby. (Y/n) bit her lip as she swiftly nodded at him, the look of a helpless innocent doe that she held worked its magic on him as his pearly whites appeared at a grin.

“I’ve heard wonderful things about your work, people say you are… good with your hands”

“Such flattering words miss (y/l/n)”

“Would you like to show me your… works?”

“Whatever miss (y/l/n) wants she gets right?”

“Lead the way then and please call me (y/n)”

Her voice barely above a whisper as she said her name. Nacho only left his glass on a stand before he let his hand touch her waist and escorted her out of the mansion, what the man had not noticed is that as they went in the garden and away of the eyes of strangers Massimo had silently followed them, curious to see what was happening, who was he? Why was (y/n) walking away with him? He could barely hear what they were saying until they reached a more secluded part and stopped, (y/n) rested her back on a wall as she held her glass of champagne.

“Have you always been interested in gardening?”

“No, I like trying new things”

“That sounds promising”

“I must admit I had my eye on you”

“I noticed”

“You are a very interesting woman”

“I know, I must say you have a lot if potential… if you are up for it”

Massimos blood boil at the sight of (y/n) so sexually flirting with a man, she had never been like that with him, why would this low life get to have her while he could not even get a bite? Nacho placed his hands at either side of (y/n)s face supporting himself on the stone wall, she looked mesmerising under the moonlight, her chest rose as she took in a deep breath.

“I have never been afraid to get my hands dirty”

“Kneel”

She command him, Nacho took the champagne glass from her hand and took a sip before he leaned to connect his lips with hers, at the slight part of her lips he was able to pass a small amount of the champagne in her mouth making the kiss even more thrilling.

He pulled away from her to do as he was told, his one hand went underneath her dress to caress her leg from her ankle and up bringing goosebumps along her spine.

“Obedience becomes you”

“And we have only just began”

Nacho had kept the glass only to take a big sip of what was left of it and throw it away, quickly he lifted her dress and allowed the liquid to ran down the part that ached the most, the cooling sensation made her hiss before pleasure took over.

Massimo stood dumbfounded as he watched from the bushes his (y/n) have such an intimate moment with someone beneath her, he could imagine how good it would feel if he sliced his throat right at her feet, or maybe he should fuck her right there and make him watch. In reality, he froze at his spot as (y/n) let a few audible moans slip past her lips, he should leave, spare himself the fury of being a bystander.

(Y/n) could feel the thrill of nachos skill take over her, not only was the man between her legs extremely qualified, she was also aware of whom it was that had followed them and was now sneaking a peek through the woods, just the image of Massimo being helpless and having to endure the show of her become undone with another was enough to send her over the edge.

To have a gorgeous man please you while risking exposure while simultaneously getting on your first loves nerves was the biggest aphrodisiac that no money could ever buy. Once she felt herself slowly shimmer down she guided her hand on nachos chin and ran her thumb over his swollen lips before leaning down to plant a peck on them.

Massimo saw something beyond the pornographic scene, the movements, the lust in her eyes, the need to blow off some steam in that way. She was no longer the person he knew way back when, (y/n) had become… like him.

“You are so… good, now go”

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duckietiewritestoo · 7 months ago

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Not My Problem (Jonathan Crane x Doctor! Reader)

I did not know how to end this so you get this weird perfect ending! This chapter was inspired by the events of when Rachel zaps Crane. It's a hard scene to watch as a Jonathan Crane fangirl.

Warnings: Cheesy....I think

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

The horse at my door was breathing fire, exhaling puffs of smoke, making me cough from it. I didn’t even know how it got up the stairs of the apartment, let alone how it was breathing fire. Something happened in the city that caused the water mains and piping to burst. I blamed my landlord for not keeping up to date with anything. I paid him a lot for that. Now smoke that induced nightmares filled my house, I could probably sue him.

What really had my attention was the masked man convulsing on the floor. I guess the horse brought him up to me. I didn’t notice him prior to that, I was busy hallucinating the horse and its flames. The man lying on the ground looked like a dying scarecrow. There was a crackling and a soft smell of fabric being burnt. It smelled like human skin too. I realized something was being zapped like a bug to a light.

It wasn’t my problem and I didn’t want to deal with it. I knew who it was, I worked for him in Arkham in his medical ward. I rushed over and tore off the electrical wires from whatever tape gun tased Jonathan Crane. It zapped me too, causing me to yelp, and I quickly tossed it to the side, ripping Crane’s mask off his face. He was gasping for air. I delicately turned his face to look at me. His face wasn’t scared. His skin was steaming, not a great sign.

“What the heck happened out there,” I snapped rudely, pulling him by the arm. Jonathan groaned. Now that he was on his feet, I could see his attire, a worn and torn straightjacket that acted like a coat and his work blazer he always wore. His leather boots were scuffed, a rare sight for me. “Actually, what happened to you?” I asked.

“Just help me,” he coughed out. I sighed, rolling my eyes. He managed to utter those words weakly in a hoarse voice that I could barely understand what he was saying. I dragged Jonathan inside of my apartment. He groaned, his head falling limp.

“Can you walk?” I asked. The trip to the couch wasn’t that long but dragging Jonathan just made it harder.

“(Name), I’ve been electrified, what do you think?” he retorted. I scoffed. Boy, he was rude.

“So you had enough strength to tell me that but you don’t have enough to walk? Tsk, disappointing,” I teased. “C’mon, let’s get you fixed up, you big baby.” I grunted, carrying Crane all the way to the couch where I put him down. He was heavy. I almost started sweating. As I laid him down on the couch, Jonathan groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. His breathing was heavy. I had to be gentle. “Are you okay?” I whispered. I delicately touched where his wounds were. He flinched.

“Ow, be gentle!” Jonathan exclaimed. His eyes showed actual concern. I hadn’t seen that before. All I saw were cold blue eyes that loved it when someone was in pain.

“I’ll try to be,” I muttered. I stuffed pillows behind his head to prop him up. I was a professional medical doctor, I knew what I was doing. We’d have to run water under his burns and there was no way I was keeping him under the sink. “I’ll be back,” I said. I grabbed a pot. Right, no water. I sighed, grabbing a flower vase and taking the dead plant out. I poured the little water I had against his face. Jonathan winced.

“I asked you to be gentle!” he replied angrily. I huffed.

“Do you want to look handsome or have scars for the rest of your life, huh?” I spat. I frowned. “Not saying you’d be horrible to look at with scars, you’d still be handsome, but they might bother you for the rest of your life. So let me work my magic, Jonathan.” I watched his cheeks become a rosy shade of pink as he went silent. I’d have to run his burns under water for twenty minutes but with the pipes broken, the flower water would have to do.

Luckily, I had gauze bandages used for treating wounds somewhere in the house. Some were even sterile. “Stay here, okay,” I replied, getting up. Jonathan grabbed my hand. I stopped. “What do you need now?”

“It’s not that bad, I can handle myself for now,” he replied. “I don’t have major burns.”

“But you have minor wounds, that still counts for something.”

“I said I can handle it!” Crane tried sitting up. He winced, flinching as he fell back down onto the pillows. I huffed.

“I’ll be back.”

I did come back as promised. I had the bandages and wrapped up Jonathan’s face, making it snug to cover up his burns. He never flinched once while I did. He stayed calm, but I knew he was wanting to flinch and wince. I chuckled. “Do you want a lollipop for being such a calm patient,” I softly asked.

“No, I’m not a child, (Name),” he replied. He looked down, his gaze softening. “But I could use something sweet. Tonight has been…..strange.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, first the pipes burst, I started seeing stuff, a horse that breathed fire approached me, and I helped you,” I replied, putting the supplies away. I sat down on the couch. Jonathan sat up straight.

“I might have been the root of that problem.”

“I figured, you’re always doing suspicious things in the basement at Arkham. I just didn’t think you’d be getting zapped and nearly getting fried.” Jonathan’s cheeks blushed. I noticed this. He was going off and on with turning red.

“Are you sick as well?” I asked. I pressed the back of my hand against Jonathan’s cheeks. They started to heat up more. I pulled back. I scoffed, realizing he wasn’t sick. Those wide blue eyes were telling another story. “Don’t you dare tell me you feel something towards me or else I’m throwing you back out into the streets while everyone runs around screaming,” I threatened.

“Then I won’t say anything. Are you always this violent outside of work?” He chuckled, the corners of his lips curling into a cocky smile.

“No.”

“Then only towards me, I assume?”

“Maybe.”

“Only towards you,” I teased. “Now rest up, you can stay on the couch tonight. It’s really not my problem on how you got tased and I shouldn’t be so nice, but I am and don’t abuse it. Or I will call the cops and tell them you’re here.” Crane frowned, pleading with big eyes.

“Please, (Name), don’t let them find me,” he begged sarcastically. “I don’t know what I’d do without you if they took me.” I smiled, leaning in.

“I wouldn’t let them take you, unless you deserve it.” Jonathan pouted and he took my hands. He curled his lower lip. He looked kinda cute like that. I blushed.

“Would you let them take me?” he asked.

“No, I wouldn’t.” Jonathan sat up and wrapped his arms around me. I let him. I would’ve fought it, but I let him, and I leaned against him. His hand brushed back my hair. He leaned in close to my ear and I could feel his warm breath tickle my skin.

“Would you like to see my mask?” he whispered.

#long post #nolanverse #batman begins #cillian murphy #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #x reader #one shot #batman #scarecrow #fanfiction #romance #cheesy #duckiewritez

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raspberrysmoon · 8 months ago

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WELCOME TO THE SOTBAW MASTERPOST!!!!

sotbaw is short for the spawn of the black and white. it follows kai drew, in her adventures being adopted and raised by the lords in black.

KAI DREW IS NOT MY CHARACTER. kai belongs solely to @pastriibunz and her custody has not transferred to me outside of this series.

kais age and condition fluctuate. sometimes shes dead, sometimes not. you'll know.

each lord has "papa" tacked onto their name. papa wiggly, papa tinky, papa pokey, papa blinky, and papa nibbly. nibbly is also called mama nibbly on occasion. paul and emma are dad and mom respectively.

IN CURRENT CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER THEY ARE: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,9,10,8,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18,19,20,21,22. minifics aren't included in this as they are generally less important to the main plot

AO3 UPLOAD

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST LINK

FICS-

number- title | song credit | lyrics you'll find in the fic | short explanation

1- i forgot my name again. | devil town - cavetown | "i still get a little scared of something new, but i feel a little safer when i'm with you." | kai, at 15, discovering that shes not quite as alone as she thought.

2- i truly am my parents child. | family line - conan gray | "i can run, but i can't hide, from my family line." | kai, at 17, fighting for what she wants.

3- deserves the same judgement. | average - sushi soucy | "you've got the skills of an idiot, who got too much praise." | blinky's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

4- i'm losing on their side. | i bet on losing dogs - mitski | "my baby, my baby.. you're my baby, say it to me." | pokey's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

5- make me love myself, so that i might love you. | saint bernard - lincoln | "when i am dead i wont join their ranks, because they are both holy and free." | tinky's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

6- apathy's a tragedy and boredom is a crime | goodbye - bo burnham | "am i going crazy? would i even know? am i right back where i started fourteen years ago?" | nibbly's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

7- you're scaring us and all of us- some of us- love you. | achilles come down - gang of youths | "soldier on achilles, achilles come down, won't you get up off, get up off the roof?" | wiggly's thoughts and feelings after losing his daughter.

8- what if i told you i made it? | inevitable - the guy who didn't like musicals | "what if i told you a story, that settled all the dust? i'm still the man you trust. it's inevitable, for us." | pokey and kai, meeting one last time in the starlight theater.

8- what if i told you i made it? | inevitable - the guy who didn't like musicals | | pokey and kai, meeting one last time in the starlight theater.

9- i won't let go of your hand | two birds - regina spektor | "say that they're always gonna stay together, but ones never going to let go of that wire." | emma and her thoughts as paul and kai leave.

10- you'll never settle any of your scores | little lion man - mumford & sons | "take all the courage you have left, and waste it in fixing all the problems that you made in your own head." | paul, discovering how it feels to lose your body, but not quite how it feels to die.

11- it's so cold and i don't know where. | another love - tom odell | "so i'll use my voice, i'll be so fucking rude, words, they always win, but i know i'll lose." | emma, waking up.

12- i wanna be your left hand man | riptide - vance joy | "i love you, when you're singing that song and i've got a lump in my throat 'cause you're gonna sing the words wrong." | paul and emma waking up. for real.

13- you're skin, oh yeah you're skin and bones | yellow - coldplay | "its true, look how they shine for you. look how they shine. look at the stars, look how they shine for you, and all the things that you do." | christmas.

14- someone just like you | share your address - ben platt | "i want a key to your house, i wanna pick up your clothes, i wanna clean up your mess, i wanna know where you hide your things, wanna be in your pictures, wanna share your address." | kai and max.

15- the land was godless and free | foreigner's god - hozier | "her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me, but still my heart is heavy" | kai's first try.

16- swinging at somebody i can't knock down | take me to war - the crane wives | "all the words i've swallowed, all the sharp things i've kept in my mouth, i am always burning up." | kai's second try.

17- i'm gonna keep doing it | breakfast - dove cameron | "do you wanna see a magic trick? cause you don't know, what you don't know, but i know." | webby.

18- honest with myself | i'm not a cynic - alec benjamin | "not every sunday is a picnic 'cause the sky ain't always blue." | wiggly.

19- blame i can't face | stick season - noah kahan | "now you're tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and i'm split in half , and that'll have to do." | blinky, watching

20- i need something to rely on | somewhere only we know - keane | "is this the place we used to love? is this the place i've been dreaming of?" | little kai drew, exploring.

21- holding the world | epic iii - hadestown | "and i know how it was because, he was like me, a man, in love with a woman." | max.

22- finale.

EXTRA FICS AND FICLETS: COMING SOON

#sotbaw #sotbaw masterpost #kai drew #raspberry writes

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angelic-dew · 1 year ago

Note

Hiiiii! I really love your recent works and I kinda stalk your posts, [i am so sorry.] but I've never gotten enough courage to interact with your blog before!

so if it isn't too much can I be known as 🍄 anon?

But besides my aimless rambling, can I please request some mini headcannons of giyu, rengoku, muichiro [and others you can think of!] with a s/o who died? [cause of death: demon]

Thank you so much!! if it isn't too much of a bother, drink water please! <33

# deceased s/o headcannons !

୨ 🫧 ୧・author's note :: no problem at all, I tried my best to keep these short, I failed! And I hope yk to take care of yourself as well! I tried my best with these lol, but this will unfortunately be in 2 parts.

୨ 🍚 ୧・pairing :: Muichiro T. x g/n reader ⁞⁞ Sanemi S. x g/n reader — {you/your pronouns | separately done} pt. 2 here

୨ ✖ ୧・trigger warnings :: death. grieving. body mutilation. cannibalism. vengeance. angst. grammatical errors. manga spoilers. || proofread.

𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎

꒰☁️꒱. Muichiro can't cope at all with this, in short. In fact, he doesn't even want to believe that you're dead, despite your corpse being mangled and mutilated beyond recognition. Blood painted the floor around your lifeless body, crimson streaks flowed slowly by the masses to create a bloody pool in which you rested in.

꒰☁️꒱. Though your eyes were blank, lifeless, defunct. This couldn't be right, he left for his nightly parole, thinking you would be safe, that you would be well taken care of within that time; oh, how he was wrong. The sight before him would be engraved into his memory for the end of his days, at best. The love of his life, his muse, his only reason to keep going, fell from him at that very moment.

꒰☁️꒱. How could he cope with this one? First were his parents, then his only brother, and now his beloved (name). Was life supposed to be this cruel to him? He meant well, he had a passion to protect others, he fought for what was right and that all was because of you. You inspired him to be who he is today, and if he doesn't have that special person once more, he might as well give up on living. What's the point of it anymore, he can't have you. He can't ever see your loving smile again, the one Tokito cherished so much.

꒰☁️꒱. Disbelief was like an overwhelming force, consuming him at every second it could, toying with his mind as if it were its own pawn, specifically made for enjoyment. Salty, little tears welled up in his now dull eyes, they were almost as empty as yours. He inched closer to your figure, stepping slowly into the pool of blood that encaved around what was left of your mutilated carcass.

꒰☁️꒱. Your beloved felt his stomach churning as he held what was left of your remains in his arms, your blood beginning to stain his clothing. His tears were filled with hurt but a vengeance boiled within his very being. He held your hand gently, the cold touch sending shivers up his skin; his tears began to stain your corpse, but he didn't care. He had to be with you as long as he could, even until you began to rot.

꒰☁️꒱. it wasn't your time to leave just yet. He won't accept it. But yet he had to. You were left in his warm embrace for hours on end - into the late hours of the evening. It was only then his crow notified the other members of the corps. Even they too, were surprised by your death. Tokito was desperately clinging onto your body like his life depended on it, your wounds were full of maggots and your body was starting to deteriorate. Eventually, Tengen along with Kyojuro would have to pry him off of your corpse despite his refusal.

꒰☁️꒱. Muichiro could never accept this defeat. He will never move on, he still believes you two are still together in some shape or form. He tends to visit your grave each day which offers him an opportunity to do so. Delivering a fresh flower of your favourite kind and colour each time, always replacing the wilted one. Only the freshest and best for you. A part of me 100% believes that he would talk to your grave as if it were a person.

꒰☁️꒱. The mist hashira only has one purpose to live at this point, to slay every demon he comes in contact with, in hopes that's the one that stole his happiness away. Fighting with brutality and skill. He dreams of the day that he could join you once more; he desperately hopes you're waiting for him wherever you are. For if he could sell his soul to hear your angelic voice one last time, he would be done for.

❝ My dear, we shall meet again. Death will never do us part. ❞

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀

꒰🌪꒱. From his backstory, we can gather that Sanemi cannot comprehend loss and tragedy; it's more or less the reason he became so cold as of his present age, having witnessed as well as being involved in such a traumatic event during his childhood, he tends to block off others. Losing the ones he cared about most, all that he ever loved. Even losing Kanae left a mark on him until he met you.

꒰🌪꒱. It was only up until he met you that his luck changed drastically. You made him feel complete, wanted and loved more than ever. Shinazugawa loved you, he truly did, with all that he ever had in him; you were his light in his darkness, the person he knew he could rely on whenever tragedy struck his heart. He cared for you, loved you with everything he ever had; he wanted to be yours, forever.

꒰🌪꒱. Sanemi was never reliant on others besides himself, therefore, he never sought the need for others to give their aid even when he did in fact need it more than ever. Yet, you changed that, the one person he loved more than anything, the one person he cherished with every fibre of his being.

꒰🌪꒱. So one could only imagine the sheer terror that painted his face that day. It was as if his heart shattered beyond repair into minuscule fragments of love he had for you; his eyes were almost hollow, dead in fact. There wasn't even a source of any emotion, not even anger, no fear, no hatred.

꒰🌪꒱. The only good thing that came into his life slipped away from his grasp at that moment, again. That was just his luck. I mean, it had to happen at some point but he never expected for you to be torn to pieces by a dreaded demon. Your screams of terror could only fill his ears then, as he failed to do the one thing he swore to always do. Protect others.

꒰🌪꒱. Emptiness turns into guilt and guilt turns into blame. The wind hashira was dumbfounded as his gaze was steadily fixtures onto your mutilated corpse. Crimson streaks slowly make a border around your body, he could only watch on as your haunting screams ring in his ears, your last breath was used to scream for your life. For help. Yet he did not save you in time. What kind of hashira was he supposed to be if he couldn't protect the one person that meant the world to him?

꒰🌪꒱. At this point, I see Shinazugawa not even putting up a fight with the demon that brutally took your life from his hands. Though he craves the enticing thought of revenge, he needs to see you before he decides to take his own life. He'd rather die out of shame on the battlefield rather than the fact he is willing to ever commit it.

꒰🌪꒱. But isn't there a light at the end of the tunnel? Surely, shame is brought upon his name, one of the strongest hashira's last dying breath being taken away by a lonesome, pathetic demon; but it was in his best interests, how could he go with the guilt of your death weighing him down every breath he took? It would be too much for him to handle.

꒰🌪꒱. But at last, his dying moments were peaceful, as all the cheerful memories of you filled his mind, the good ones were the best for there rarely were any horrid ones to begin with. He's thankful that you came into his life, he cherished every second of the time he spent with you. You gave him purpose, the only choice was to die if he didn't have a true purpose. Sanemi's final moments were enjoyed, a smile plastering his face as he crossed into the afterlife, in hopes to be met by your angelic beauty one last time.

❝ I hope you're waiting for me, angel. ❞

#headcanon #demon slayer #kny x y/n #kny x you #yandere demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #kny sanemi #muichiro tokito #kny muichiro #demon slayer muichiro #kimetsu muichiro #muichiro x reader #muichiro angst #sanemi angst

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caspercryptid · 2 months ago

Note

For the Billford thing maybe something Monster Falls related?

Ford is like a sphinx to contrast Stanley being a gargoyle but Ive seen versions of Ford being a deer centaur like Dipper and Stan being an aquatic creature to match Mabel being a mermaid. Pick your poison with this one

Okay so bill's humanoid design is inspired on @monobmp's, that's basically what I was thinking of. I'm sorry to all the object head lovers. it's not my field. As for Ford. Well. :- )

Also uh, I invented a whole new version of this AU because I wanted a reason for it to hit Ford, since like. If it happened pre-portal and then he came through he might be able to avoid it? anyway. So. There's a whole setup here. Have fun Requests still open for Billford ______________________________

"—Stan's crimes include pug smuggling, embezzling, highway robbery, regular robbery, advanced robbery—"

Stan is lifting the remote to turn the television off when Shandra Jimenez cuts off.

"—Though this list is far from complete, we have— breaking news. The fireworks and explosives on the mountain seem to have broken open some kind of — underground river, or spring? Water is pouring off the mountain and we may have flash flooding incoming."

Stan turns off the TV.

"You kids wanna go vandalize Mayor Tyler's mansion?" Dipper squints. "Should we…maybe avoid going out in flood conditions?"

"What?" Stan scoffs. "It's a little water. Come on. it's not a tsunami. What's some weird mountain water gonna do?"

_____

"—aw, shoot," Gideon says, looking out the prison window after he's made his deal with Bill. "it's my yard time. Walk with me, cipher."

"Sure, kid, always willing to go anywhere with a friend!"

______

Ford walks right into it.

The seismic activity sets off every sensor in his lab— every measurement device for every kind of disturbance, all at once. He knows something is coming, and naturally, that means he needs to study it.

He's expecting Bill— he has his gun ready and loaded, he has his weapons, his coat.

At first, it seems as though his equipment was wrong. There's nothing in town but ankle-deep water. He wades in, looking down.

His reflection is…strange. It shifts, making him look as though he's made of gold for a second, and then he realizes it's— the sunlight reflecting from his skin. He's shining, sparkling strangely. He reaches up to touch his own face and is stopped dead by being able to look through his fingers.

"—Ah," he says, out loud. "That isn't good."

And then all hell breaks loose.

_____

Bill is physical.

Bill is physical and he doesn't like it one bit. He tears out of the prison yard— climbing the fence while everyone is still panicked and screaming, running into the street. physical. physical. physical.

What was his protective shell is just clothes around him now: no more bricks, just yellow and gold. His hands are inky gray-black, but they feel like human skin, and his feet are hitting the ground, and as he can feel his breath ragged in and out of his chest.

not good. not good. not good.

He runs back into town, splashing into the water still pouring everywhere: he can't feel its power anymore, and that's what really scares him. His power over the mindscape is— weakening. He thinks maybe he could temporarily leave this body, but it's his, and as long as he can't go back to the nightmare realm that's a problem. He's not just projecting himself here anymore, he's here.

He feels like screaming, so he does. He can't grow his shape, he can only throw his voice, so that's what he does— he lets his voice tear out of him, and it's almost as satisfying, the air reverberating, his voice echoing off the buildings. It drowns out all of the other creatures around him, whatever their petty struggles are, he no longer has to hear anything besides his own voice, his own panicked scream, and then there are hands on his shoulders.

Someone is trying to talk to him.

He chokes the noise back down: his throat hurts, and it isn't as funny as it should be, feeling pain. Not right now, not knowing he can't just throw this body out if he breaks it.

"—Bill," the voice repeats, and it's almost soothing, "Bill, look at me." Despite himself, he does.

He— sees water.

For a second that's all he sees, but he… blinks, what a strange sensation, and focusing his eyes reveals facial features in the water, almost-solid, at least shaded, and the clothes— the trench coat he knows, the voice he knows.

"—Sixer?" Bill asks.

"In the flesh," Ford says, "—or maybe not."

"What's— going on?"

"I'm not sure. but the— water levels seem to be dropping. That's a good sign. Maybe the effect is tempora—"

Ford has to cut off, because Bill tries to grab him— it's hard, getting a hold of the water, but with his clothes roughly hanging on him, he can almost get his arms around Ford.

"you're not—" Bill says, "You're not physical. I'm physical and you're not—"

"—Bill," Ford says, "I'll— figure out how to control it, alright? Just calm down—"

"How am I supposed to calm down? I'm a meat sack and I don't even get any of the perks!"

"The—" Ford almost laughs.

"I'm angry with you," he reminds Bill.

"Can you be angry with me later?" Bill asks, hysterical. "yeah yeah, I tried to kill you, I know, but what am I supposed to do? I can't maintain a flesh shack—"

"I'll— help. I'll help, Bill. Just relax."

Bill shoves his face in Ford's chest— his clothes are soaked through, and he smells like river water, but he tentatively lifts his arms to pat Bill's back.

"—Don't think too much of this," Bill manages, voice shaking. "this is a moment of weakness." "Moment of weakness," Ford agrees, "Temporary alliance." "—take me home with you." Bill orders.

Ford snorts. "—You're not going into the lab. But. You can…come with me."

"I'll settle."

He hates that he means it.

#billford #monster falls #gravity falls requests

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queenimmadolla · 7 months ago

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Hellguard spicy headcanons?🌶

Oh man, imma give you spicy and somewhat sweet.

Hate sex.

Except it’s hate sex in that they’re super into each other, like crazy in love and they hate that so they fuck it out on the regular. Pretend it doesn’t mean anything even after they’re sweaty, sated and plastered to one another on his shitty mattress and his fingers are stroking over her skin, nose nudging her sweat soaked bangs out of the way so he can press his lips to her forehead or when he’s kissing her wet shoulder after they’ve just gone at it in the locked showers at the pool, helping her get back into her swimsuit since she can barely stand on her shaky legs. Anytime they have a snarky interaction in public—guaranteed to be fucking afterwards. True enemies to lovers.

Eddie also goes to the pool during its open season to rile her up with both antagonistic comments, and his lack of a shirt. Knows how much of a sucker she is for his tatties, can still feel her tongue tracing over them—even when she’s posted on the lifeguard chair. And god—does her swimsuit fuck with him. He tries to stop by to mess with her (and mess around with her) a couple of times a week, but he can only see her in that red swimsuit so many times and not fuck her in public. He is only a man.

And billy—oh Billy’s a fucking problem. Eddie has never wanted someone dead that badly before because he knows Hargrove has no real interest in Heather, she’s pleasant to him (as she is to anyone who isn’t Eddie) but he doesn’t really talk to her. Unless Eddie’s around. Eddie knows he’s trying to provoke him, trying to get Eddie to punch his fucking face right into his skull for looking at his girl, who’s not his girl. That’s when Eddie has to whisk her away for a quickie that’s so rough, Heather will still feel him inside of her the following day. She’s always a little off of her game afterwards, still dazed and cum dumb, so Curtis might be under the water for a sec when he gets that cramp after over exhorting himself from dunking people into the pool since Heather had been too busy thinking about the way Eddie pressed her into the outside wall of the community pool building—on the side hidden by trees and rarely ever passed by if the overgrown grass was any sign—and held up as Eddie fucked into her with hard thrusts that sent her sunglasses flying off her head, ruined her high side pony, and had her crying out in pleasure while salivating against Eddie’s palm to keep them from being discovered. When she snaps out of her daze, she’s jumping in to save Curtis (he’s always fine, gets yelled at by Heather for dunking people’s heads in the first place and sometimes he pretends to drown just so he can get her attention).

Heather hates and loves it when he makes an appearance at the pool. Loves that he gets to see her showing some skin—she’s grown out of being insecure, something about wearing the lifeguard bathing suit and the fact that she’s an authoritative figure at the pool fills her with confidence, Heather also knows Eddie likes what he sees whenever he looks at her, and it makes him mad because she’s got such a smart ass mouth on her, and she loves how that makes her feel─hates that she has to watch the few girls brave enough to approach him in public, hates seeing him flirt with them because he knows she’s watching from behind her sunglasses. He’s trying to make her jealous and she HATES that it works.

My gorls hit me with some good headcanons too, Heather teaching a water aerobics class for the elderly and Eddie signing up because he’s the devil in her life (he wants to be around her). Eddie intentionally tries to annoy her, keep that back-and-forth banter they’ve been doing their entire high school careers going to ensure she knows summer break is for a break in school and not a break with him. It works, Heather’s annoyed but the elderly can see things neither wants to acknowledge. It took a while for some of the older ladies to get used to him, always making comments about his metal like appearance—but when he’s a sweetheart to them, helping them out of the pool, he’s got all the golden girls ready to go up to bat for him—or rather, ready to help him get the girl (the gorls have also decided our golden girls try to hit on Wayne through Eddie and some even try to flirt with Eddie themselves lol). But now whenever Heather is going around to make sure they’re all doing good forms, they’re chatting her up about how sweet Eddie is, how much of a catch he’d be and Heather, dear, you wouldn’t happen to be seeing anyone would you?

I see Heather as trying her hardest to be taken seriously, to keep that feeling she got a taste of during her first summer as a lifeguard, so she pursues class politics and campaigns for class dances and their attached monarchy (she will be prom queen one day, mark her words) and we all have an inkling to what Eddie does in response to everything she does. He’s the fire to her water. They shouldn’t get along and that’s ingrained in them, so they don’t know how to handle it when all of their moments together prove that while they may be opposites, they compliment each other in ways they cold never have imagined.

(Eddie always votes for her in anything and everything she does, has the Hellfire club do it too, This shit bites but if we gotta do it, might as well get Holloway up there so she can publicly choke during her speech—would pay BIG bucks to see her run off that stage, he lingers in the back of the crowds, small smirk on his face when she effortlessly makes her way through public speaking—because she’s good at it even if he knows she’s shaking in her shoes and rehearsed a billion times before. He’s proud.)

I can literally go on and on. You know what Hellguard does to me!

#this was so nice to rant about lol #hellguard #headdie #Eddie munson #Eddie munson headcanons #giving eddie head(canons)#Heather Holloway #Heather Holloway headcanons #Eddie munson x Heather Holloway #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 3 #stranger things headcanons

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visratarg · 4 months ago

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▮ ❛ some time after alicent returned and was shot, princess viserra targaryen found herself in the bedroom of her sister, laena oldflowers @fromspringandfire ❜ ──

Things repeated themselves in a great loop in Viserra's mind, like a twisted, thrilling dream that wouldn't allow her to wake up. With every blink of an eye, what had happened was repeated once more. The horse, the screams, the arrow. The woman with the coppery hair. Like the dragon's eternal dream. She should be dead, shouldn't she? Gone for so long, practically becoming a ghost from the past, simply returning as if she were nothing.

The metallic taste of blood was burning its way down the throat of the Targaryen who was restlessly chewing the inside of her left cheek. It was an old childhood habit long forgotten; a habit she used to have when she visited the Sept with her grandmother. When Alicent looked into her violaceous irises, repeating how she should behave, how to pray or even how to breathe. There weren't many good memories of her grandmother and, if there ever were, Viserra couldn't remember them; only traumas filled her mind.

However, the hardest thing about knowing that her grandmother was alive was remembering her mother. Helaena was always with Alicent, and she was always with her mother; eternally connected. The young purple girl's heart was filled with pain and a certain anger: her mother didn't want to survive for her or her brother, and a part of Viserra inexplicably screamed that it was her grandmother's fault. How could it be? She hadn't pushed Helaena, the princess knew, and she also understood that Alicent had suffered as much as she had, perhaps more. But a part of her felt guilty; maybe it was the need to put the blame on someone else to deal with the pain, maybe it was the anger stored up inside her trying to get out somewhere.

Viserra didn't know, she just suffered from it. And now she was suffering even more from her return, anxious about the future that would be built from here. She was sure, no, actually she felt it in her bones, that her brother, Jaehaerys, would take her to the Crownlands. Alicent was still in her blood. But the princess didn't want that, definitely not, her chest burning with the very real possibility. Her grandmother might be in a coma, but what if she woke up? What if she went back to her old ways? Viserra felt that she would be condemned to always be by her side as before, as a good granddaughter, a great religious woman. She didn't need any more guilt on her shoulders. And then there were the twins, what if Alicent managed to catch up with them?

There were multiple possibilities that made Viserra's skin feel hot, burning as if coals were being placed on it. Was that what Rhaenyra felt? She thought it couldn't have been, she still remembered what dragon fire felt like. Feeling her breathing become heavy and dizzy, the princess looked up at the window of her sister's room, feeling tears fill her vision. "Where's Laena?” she cursed, running her hands through the silver strands nervously. A little more force and she could have pulled out a few strands.

Why was she so destabilized? It was a question that ran through her mind along with the others. She'd been through so much, how could her grandmother alone have triggered all these feelings? A part of Viserra hoped it was just the first scare, it had to be, she wasn't that unbalanced. When she heard the sound of the door opening, she quickly looked away from the window and focused on the face in front of her, already feeling a whirlwind materialize in her throat. “What took you so long? I need you” came the voice as she stood up and walked into her sister's arms. Laena was the one person the Targaryen felt she could be herself without any problems, blood of her blood.

#! — laena oldflowers ❜❜#! — laena 001 ❜❜#! it got a bit long sorry I let my mind flow ❜❜

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 1 year ago

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What a drag!

Summary: Mari taking out the trash. The trash in question is Gabriel Agreste.

Marinette had never expected a dead body to be so heavy.

She hissed the few curses she knew between pants as she dragged it through back alley after back alley. All she needed to do was carry him to the pier and throw him off it.

There were two major problems with her plan, though:

She was an 11-year-old trying to drag the corpse of a fully grown man around, and the pier was still several blocks away.

Sweat dripped down her nose, catching in the fabric of her polka-dotted mask. The mask was decidedly not making it easier to breathe, but she didn’t have much of an option. Even if her hair had been dyed blue recently, making her easy to identify, that was something she could change if need be. If someone saw her face, though, she would be doomed.

Her shoulders ached as she lugged the trash bag filled to bursting with Gabriel Agreste down another alley. 'Luckily', his weight forced her to shuffle, which kicked away all of the abandoned shards of glass and needles on the ground before they could rip the trash bag and make things a million times harder.

Not that that ended up mattering in the end, though.

Her back hit something hard, but she knew that she shouldn’t have reached a wall yet.

Slowly, as if she thought that she might be able to bore the local cryptid into leaving, she tipped her head back to see who – or what – she had run into.

Her eyes met the white lenses of a bat mask.

He looked unimpressed. Not that this was strange, from what Marinette had heard the man was known for always being unimpressed with anything and everything.

“Taking out the trash?” he said. His voice had been altered by a voice changer, making it artificially deep, and this only made him seem more like he was going to beat her into a bloody pulp.

She glanced down at the trash bag. A few of Gabriel’s fingers had broken through the plastic, sticking out at an awkward angle. There was a very visible imprint of the man’s face pressed against the side.

Yeah, no, there was no way that Batman didn’t know.

For just half a second, she considered swinging the bag around and hitting Batman with it, but she didn’t think she would be able to do it faster than he could move out of the way. Even if she could manage it, it was more likely that the bag, which was already on its last legs, would snap, and Gabriel’s corpse would end up splatting on the ground, right out in the open where everyone could see.

So, she sent her brightest smile, making sure it was wide enough for the skin around her eyes to crinkle at the edges.

“Yep!” She turned to face him, still smiling. She thrust the bag into Batman’s hands. “Mind helping me out a little?”

And, in that moment where the man was shocked by the sheer audacity of her play, his lips parted in slight surprise... she booked it.

Of course, Batman wasn’t one that was easily outsmarted, especially by children, and a grappling hook was quick to loop itself around her waist and drag her right back to the man.

She shrieked as a hand grabbed her by the back of the shirt, twisting around desperately to try and scratch and kick and bite at Batman, but her blows glanced right off of the kevlar of his armor, and she knew it was useless. Tears built in the corners of her eyes. Frustrated, maybe, or just plain scared. She was doing nothing outside of tiring herself out. But she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Because stopping meant losing, and losing meant losing everything.

But she couldn’t do anything, and it became difficult to even keep her head up. The night's ‘shenanigans’ caught up to her all at once, and she was so tired.

She was allowed to fall the last foot to the ground. She just barely stopped herself from face-planting on the asphalt, her arms trembling where they held her up.

“Fuck you,” she hissed. She swallowed back bile. She didn’t know that many swears, but god would she make sure to use all of the ones she did know. “You show up now? Asshole.”

His face remained impassive.

“Asshole,” she repeated, finally willing herself to shift to a more normal sitting position, if only so she would be able to send Batman her harshest glare. “I know you can’t be everywhere, or whatever, it’s fine. I did this because I know you can’t save everyone. But why show your ugly mask now?”

Maybe if she’d waited one more day, then maybe she wouldn’t have had to sneak into the high school division of Gotham Academy for a five-finger discount on some acid. Maybe Gabriel could have been dealt with by the police, and she wouldn’t have to risk everything for her friend.

She would do it all again, in a heartbeat, don’t get her wrong. She’d known the risks when she’d offered Adrien’s dad that cupcake with a particularly unique filling.

But it was hard to come to terms with the fact that it might not have been necessary at all.

Her vision blurred with tears. “Fuck you,” she said, softly, with feeling.

He looked at her for just a few moments more.

And then he sighed, quietly, resignedly. “Go home.”

Her head jerked up to look at him, her eyes wide. “What?”

“Go. Home.” Batman gave her a smile. It was wobbly, as if his mouth muscles were unused to moving, but definitely there. “I will monitor you to make sure this doesn’t become a thing for you, of course… but I’ll deal with this one for you.”

She looked at him for just a moment more, wondering if it was a trick.

But he seemed genuine.

Slowly, shakily, she rose to her feet.

She took a few cautious steps back, almost daring him to take it back, still watching him.

#maribat #ttt #tag team tournament #rare flair #platonic brucinette #ig #i couldnt help myself #saw the prompt and was plagued by Thoughts #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #batman #ladybug

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milkstoner · 2 years ago

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Since like, this summer, I’ve had this vague concept of a mallesil modern au, and it never really inspired me. I realized last night, while my mind was plagued by insomnia, that it didn’t give anything because i didn’t really flesh out silver as much as malleus. So here’s the concept.

Malleus —> like, 24 yrs old, just starting a masters in architecture. He’s the guitar in pop music club’s band. Also plays just about any instrument. Tattoo artist on the side. Rich boy, dead parents, grandma lives in a huge mansion, idk what his family does and why theyre so wealthy honestly like. Granny is strict and she disapproves of mal being in a band and living on his own, but he dgaf. He knows hes going to have to inherit whatever role granny occupies and tbh he’s comfortable knowing hes going to have like, some sort of authority. But for now he enjoys being sort of rebellious.

Silver —> like 18 (we need to do our best to parallel the human slash fae age gap, sorry). In the process of making a career out of being a ballet dancer!!! (Also does fencing and rides horses). Also a rich boy! Im paralleling the theory that silver is a stolen prince by giving him rich parents. Overprotected, strict parents. Idk what his parents do, but they work in the same domain as mals grandmother. (Perhaps theyre politicians…? That could add a layer of mystery around mals parents oh ooh… assassination? Im not fully decided yet but imagine.)

Pop music club (a band in this au);

Cater —> lead vocals. Not wealthy, really. Middle class. The band is his main income and he works as a ride operator in the summers. 22 years old. Dreams of fame and wealth. Art history student, met mal in a class they had in common.

Kalim —> drums. Rich boy. Mal’s childhood friend. Might be the son of politicians similarly to my idea for mal’s and silver’s families, and that’s how they know each other. The band is his hobby. He calls the shots. Spends his share of the money he earns spoiling his friends. Sweet angel. 21 years old.

Lilia —> bass (whore). Mal’s uni friend. He has spent so many years in university. He’s 28, like dude please graduate soon. Very mysterious. We dont know anything about his upbringing. Just a little freaky dude. Nomad. Malleus has no idea where that man lives. He crashes his apartment sometimes. Goes on road trips unprovoked. When he doesn’t show up to practice, the other three wonder if he really was just a collective hallucination. Then he shows up the next week like, oh hey guys i was (insert crazy adventure). The boys are used to it by now.

And of course, sebek —> 17. Silver’s childhood friend. Son of a dentist so hes relatively rich, not as much as silver/malleus/kalim, but still upper class. They’ve been rivals (according to sebek) since they were very small. They met during their first ballet class. He’s a fan of pmc+malleus’ band, and is especially a huge mal fanboy.

Mallesil have met a few times before. Think like, formal parties and such. They’re the 1%. It’s rare granny draconia and her grandson are invited, but when they do attend a party, everything gets real quiet. So mallesil have… noticed each other as children, think like, silver was 6 when he first acknowledged malleus’ (12) existence. Obviously the age gap is kind of significant at that stage so its not a problem that their guardians forbid them from interacting. (Though there was one time, when silver was 8 and malleus was 14, where silver got lost somehow, and malle was the only one he recognized in this huge mass of adults. He’s actually very straightforward, like « im lost », and mal guides him back to his parents without a word lol)

It gets a bit more problematic as silver grows up. Stolen glances, damn hes hot… silver is 17. He’d always been sort of fascinated by malle’s stature, his long, black hair, and his pale skin. Its like hes wrapped in mystery. Obviously, since silver is older now, he can finally recognize hes feeling attraction. Malleus… he cant help still seeing a child in silver since. Yk. Their very rare and brief interactions took place when silver was a literal child. But hey he can admit silver is cute… he sees him drinking like, non alcoholic cider in a corner and he comes up to him kinda nervous like… hey… u come here often. Its another brief interaction, but they find a secluded spot and malleus offers him a sip of his wine (im obsessed with the concept of mal making silver drink SORRY), silver is a bit shy and flustered… (hes a sensitive little gay boy). They have one thing in common, and its that they think these 1% parties are boring. There’s something scandalous about them interacting when their families strictly forbids them to like, even look at each other. (If were going the route that theyre politicians, granny has probably put into mal’s head that his parents were assassinated by silver’s family. He… believes her, but he cant blame silver for it, can he?)

They dont see each other again until like. A year later, when sebek drags silver to pmc+malleus’ show. Its late and silver shouldn’t even be there—he snuck out. He had no idea what he was going to see until he saw fucking MALLEUS on the stage. He’s in awe… the dexterity of his fingers, his large arms, the bright lights making him fucking shine, like wowww if he didn’t have a crush before, this is definitely what sells malleus. Now, imagine mal’s shock seeing silver in the fucking crowd—they make EYE CONTACT honey. His fingers fumble; his bandmates look back at him like ? For a single second before acting like absolutely nothing happened.

After the show, malleus calls to silver and they talk a bit in the alley leading to backstage of the venue (idk how any of this works)… like… what are you doing here i didn’t know u were into rock?… oh yeah I’ve seen sebek a few times hes kind of annoying. Need a ride home?

Next thing u know, romantic little motorcycle scene oooohhhhhh. Finally they exchange numbers… malleus has no social media presence lol the only way to contact him is to call or text him. As they are both children of important people, they cant exactly meet in public, but mal knows a bunch of secluded spots and he takes silver to quiet places on his motorcycle yasssss. They talk about anything, its secret, its scandalous, its exciting. Silver’s rebellious era.

One day silver takes mal to like, the dancing studio, & he practices in front of him, aww… mal plays the piano, idk some melody he had in his mind, & silver goes off track and lets his song guide his body, its all very sweet and cute… Harold theyre gay

Their relationship evolves real quick… it’s silvers first crush. It’s cute and exciting . His desires give him butterflies in his stomach. Malleus is filled with dread however lol, he’s super dramatic and he WILL write countless songs for silver AND SING THEM to him, while playing the guitar or the piano… he can’t breathe w/o silver ok

The sex… ofc mal is older and he’s the top so he takes care of silver. He’s gentle at first but after a while he can’t help roughing him up bc he just loves him that much. Cute aggression. Silver is a total slut for malleus… he’s a secret pervert, so he’s in touch w his desires. He knows what parts of mal’s body he wants, what parts of himself he wants pleasured… malleus got his perversions from old, female-written erotica 😭 (stolen from granny draconia). Silver had the talk but he unfortunately slept through his sex ed class in high school. He doesn’t dare watch porn in case his parents find out. So his desires are very… basic, i would say, no dirty kinks, but still, it’s this very strong, pure feeling of wanting flesh and skin to meet, intertwined w love, so it’s very sweet and intimate and erotic. Mal’s desires are similar but he plays around with like, mild dirty talk (it’s just praise and dramatic love confessions while he’s balls deep inside silver😭), mild teasing (going slow when silver is justtttt on the edge), etc… they worship each others bodies oh my goodness

Their dates are mostly @ mal’s apartment. Takeout, Netflix, they talk for hours, one thing leads to another and WHEWW they spend the night together even tho silver was supposed to be home at 10. Obviously this raises a lot of questions. On the draconia side, granny is very happy to meet silver. She thinks he’s such a respectable, cute, sweet boy. She welcomes him💜

Silvers parents on the other hand… he knows they’ve said terrible TERRIBLE things about the draconias so obviously he doesn’t want to put mal through that. There’s also the fear of being disowned… silvers parents ask him if, yk, he’s in love, bc he’s changed and he doesn’t come home on time… eventually they find out of his relationship and it doesn’t go well :( they threaten to disown him if he doesn’t block mal… obv he’s very afraid, so he does… mal is heartbroken :,( he actually drives all the way to silver’s family’s mansion and he… throws rocks at his window CTFUUUU silver starts crying on the spot when he sees mal from his window… he sneaks out in his pajamas and mal puts his jacket on silvers shoulders and they go to one of mals spots.

So silver explains he could be disowned… malleus had a feeling :( silver is young… he’s torn between his family and the security that comes with it, or his exciting lover… they have sex outside in that secret spot teehee💜 most intense session ever, the thrill of being outside, risking being seen… it’s hot

Silver still sees mal in secret at night. Yea ok they can’t contact each other, but mal still meets him every night. Until they’re found out one night lol and that’s the last straw, silver gets kicked out. Honestly, he’s lucky mal has money, so he moves into mals apartment, and yes it’s rly traumatic, it takes time to get used to, but their passion is stronger than anything (amor vincit omnia)… silver does get a bit depressed but he still attends ballet classes. He gets a little part time job as a barista and malleus visits him sometimes… he steals a kiss over the counter hehehe. Silver goes to mal’s shows & helps the band however he can… very sweet, sweet boy

I think it takes a whole year for silver and his parents to talk again. Like, ok you can’t just throw away your only son like that, be for real. They’ve been super overprotective for years, so of course they’ll worry about silver a year later, only to find out he’s doing okay, all things considered, and he’s been paying for his ballet/fencing classes on his own, and malleus helps out bc he cares about silver. It’s not enough for them to accept him, that takes a lot more time, because they truly feel like silver betrayed them.

Silver is very sad, but malleus comforts him and gives him so much love. His love language is… all of them. Words, physical touch, gifts, everything. He spoils silver lol. There’s this urge inside him that makes him want to protect silver since he’s younger. And silver doesn’t mind bc he is a Disney princess and disney princesses are spoiled + they’re the main characters even tho they don’t realize.

Am i insane.

#malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #twst #malleus twst #twst malleus #mallesil #twst silver #twst au

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