Hey! I’ve been lurking your page for a little while, and really like your work! I was wondering if maybe you could write headcanons for Husk and Lucifer comforting a reader who has sensory issues, and accidentally came into contact with a texture that made them feel really overwhelmed?
Husk
Very befuddled the first time this happens. This man does not know what to do.
He wants to help but he doesn’t know how and is afraid of making things worse.
Depending on how badly you react, he won’t even ask you questions, afraid of overstimulating you more.
He just extends his paw for you to make as much or as little contact as you want and tries to guide you to a quiet, dark space.
After that first time though, he gets prepared.
He asks you what triggered it. Gets rid of all of those textures. Asks you what textures will help you get rid of the bad ones and writes it down in a list.
He also does this with all your other senses. Smell, taste, sight. Very aware of his surroundings.
This will be one of the times he won’t grumble and complain (no matter how light hearted) when you start petting him (be it fur or feathers) and ask if he could start purring.
He is a big, winged cat. This man is king of DPT.
Lucifer
In my head & heart, Lucifer has AuDHD. He gets it.
The first time it happens, he is looking around the room for something, anything he’s noticed you fiddle with a lot (because he’s hyper analyzed your body language, of course he knows what you fiddle with).
He grabs it and offers it to you.
He gets some water for you after you calm down, fetches your favorite blanket, and just sits next to you.
If you get embarrassed afterwards, he assures you that he understands.
You two talk about what your triggers are. You agree on several and complain about how it’s just awful. The worst. Heaven must have created it specifically to torture the both of you.
Overall, just a lot of camaraderie between the two of you. Lots is shared experiences.
Now you both have someone to look out for each other.
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I just wanna take a moment to say thank you for always being around to chat since I don't have many to talk to about TWST. I also suck at characterization so I don't write many fics. But I was very happy when you used one of our discussions for Revel in You. I don't mind if you use our convos to write, just be sure to credit the source.
On that note: saw your smut posts. Here's an idea: Jamil celebrating his promotion to being a Housewarden.
It's Friday, there's an enormous party going on to celebrate Jamil and Kalim's new roles and the successes of the first month with this new dynamic. While Jamil is more accustomed to the spotlight, he still gets "tired out" and leaves it to Kalim to keep the party going and organize the clean up crew. After all, he's due for a more private celebration of his own.
Fun fact: for a good chunk of snake species, the male will bite the females neck to hold them down while mating.
Imagine Jamil relentlessly taking his beloved from behind, deciding they're wriggling a bit too much. Delighting in the sounds they make as he pulls them towards him by the hair, he just bites the back of their neck as his body pins them to the bed. They'll probably be annoyed by morning, but Jamil's already got some concealers beforehand.
Did I forget to mention it's a Friday, Jamil no longer has roomates, and pretty much the entire dorm is still partying to loud music several hallways away?
Also worth mentioning that, as a healthy mature couple, all of Jamil's jealousy and possessiveness is addressed in a healthy manner so the relationship never turns toxic. This statement does not apply to the bedroom.
Aww thank you, always happy to talk with you too 😊 Plus like, if you’d rather talk over messages sometime in addition to the asks, feel free. (And this applies to anyone else reading this post too.)
Yeah iirc I was thinking a bit if I should ask you about using that ask as a jumping off point for To Revel in You, but I figured I was using it more as inspiration rather than rewriting anything you wrote or anything like that. And that since you sent that ask in the first place, I did kinda assume it would be okay to build off it. But good to hear I wasn’t wrong in thinking so, and glad you liked it.
As for characterization & writing: it really is a matter of practice, I’d say. Plus, like, everyone is bound to interpret the characters in a different way, or focus on different aspects of them. Which can be freeing, in a way, knowing that you can bring to the table something that no one else can, certainly not in the same exact way you would.
Also I was actually thinking of asking for some writing prompts since the current wip seems to need a bit more time to marinate, and here you are with perfect timing.
So let’s see what I can do with this concept.
If it wasn’t obvious: smut ahead. Written with fem / afab reader in mind but I think this could be read gender neutral as well since the only specific body detail mentioned is that reader has hair long enough for Jamil to grab.
The day - and the week, and the month - had been such a whirlwind that even Jamil had had trouble keeping up with it all.
Tonight, Jamil had basked in the praises from his dormmates, their congratulations and glowing words - and noted the cautious looks of those who still had not forgotten the events of his overblot.
He had enjoyed food that was not made by him, watched others fuss over the preparations and the serving - well, as much as he had been able to keep himself from giving direction. Still, even he had not been able to oversee every single detail, as much as he wanted to.
After all, both you and Kalim had been quite insistent, in your own ways, that this celebration should be for him, not by him.
So Jamil had danced, eaten, drank, listened, talked, so much so that now when the night was beginning to turn towards morning, he had more than had his fill.
Besides, tired as he may be of the crowd, there was still something on his agenda that he was more than happy to indulge in.
You had been teasing him with promises of a more private celebration - starting from when the party was decided on all the way to when you had been dancing together earlier - and Jamil intended to finally collect his reward.
You were outside for a moment of fresh air and quiet when Jamil found you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nipping your ear.
“I remember someone promising to be mine tonight,” he murmured, voice low and husky.
You shivered, feeling Jamil’s lips on your neck. You’d half expected him to be too tired to turn your teasing into action. Yet, you certainly welcomed this turn of events, your own tiredness washed away by Jamil’s eager touch and his tempting whispers.
“You know me. Always love - ahhh - spoiling you,” you said - your words turning into a gasp when Jamil licked the side of your neck.
In no time at all you found yourself in Jamil’s room - as easy as it was to be distracted by each other, you both still preferred the privacy over lingering in the common areas of the dorm.
Jamil’s mouth was hungry on yours, his hands working quickly to rid you of your clothes.
Sometimes you wondered just how much Jamil was holding back in the presence of others, for him to get so ravenous as soon as you two were alone.
Not that you were any different, pulling away that long belt from Jamil’s hips so that you could slip your hands under his shirt, your lips covering every available bit of his skin with kisses.
It was always delicious, your naked bodies tangled together. That heady feeling of each other, both of you grasping and kissing wherever you could, like you could never quite feel enough of the other.
“So what would mister housewarden ask of me tonight?” you asked with a playful grin, nuzzling your nose against Jamil’s.
There was undeniable hunger in the way Jamil looked at you, yet also the warmth and softness of your lover that always filled your heart to the brim.
“Just all of you, albi,” Jamil murmured, pushing you down onto the mattress.
You’d entertained ideas of a celebratory blowjob, of taking care of Jamil tonight. But if he’d rather help himself to you, you were certainly not going to say no.
A few orgasms later and Jamil was pounding into you, firmly holding onto your hips while your face was pressed onto the sheets. His cock was invading your insides so hard, so deep, leaving you nearly senseless. You jolted helplessly every time Jamil slammed his way all the way in, the pleasure bordering on pain as it shot through your nerves.
“Ahhh, Jamil…” you whimpered, barely aware of the spot of drool you’d left on the bed.
“Too much?” Jamil muttered, one of his hands leaving your side to instead trail a soothing path along your spine.
“...No.”
It was a lot, your senses nearly overtaken by the intensity of it all - yet you didn’t want anything less.
Still, you couldn’t help squirming, your body twitching with every thrust, yelps and moans pushed from your throat no matter how much you tried to hold them in.
“Hold still,” Jamil grunted.
He gathered your hair in his hand, making you gasp when he tugged. You could feel the pull on your scalp, almost like Jamil wanted to rein you in - or pull your face away from the sheets so that he could hear your cries more clearly.
“You’re all mine tonight, aren’t you? Mine to have, mine to enjoy,” Jamil breathed to your ear.
“Yes, yes, yes…” you whined, aroused beyond belief.
Always his, just as he is yours - but you had no time to vocalize that thought before Jamil’s weight pushed you prone on the bed.
Your gasp was cut short, turned into a sharp cry when you felt moist pressure at the back of your neck - a bite, you realized, some instinct telling you to keep still.
Not that you had much of a choice in the matter. Jamil’s hand, still gripping your hair. His mouth, latched onto your skin. His body, holding you down.
The weight of him against your back was almost suffocating, yet in a delicious way. Like you could be closer to him like this, more connected than just skin to skin contact - or penetration - could provide.
You could feel the rolling of Jamil’s hips against your backside, the way his cock was dragging along your insides. Not as harshly as before, yet intense enough to keep you trembling and whining with the little breath you could take.
And Jamil’s mouth, his teeth, never letting go. His muffled groans such a delicious sound, making you clench around him.
Such sweet torture, and you never wanted it to end.
Taglist since this turned into fic: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @perilous-pasta @twstgo @cannedpickledpeaches
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Hii, can i request a drunk confession au? pretty please 🩷🤍
Thena who doesn't really drink much, wants to change things a little and drink more at this party the eternals have to attend, but she can not hold her alcohol to save her live and get terribly drunk.
The woman can barely stand, is talking nonsense, can get hurt if unsupervised, it's a miracle she didn't pass out in a ditch yet, so it's Gilgamesh duty to get her to her room safely.
When they are near her room, Thena starts telling her new friend her secret, she is in love with Gil!! but he can't know, she thinks he is soo charming and nice and beautiful and he is really stong and soo attractive, but he can't know.
And Gil is there blusing, because the love of his live just confessed her love to him but he can't do anything about it because she is very very drunk, so he just says "Gil? Never heard of him but he sounds nice, you should talk to him"
"To Gilgamesh!"
Cups of mead were raised in the air to celebrate the victory of the Strongest Eternal. Truly, it was a celebration of all of them--one's success was everyone's. The Eternal himself was happy to brush it off with a modest smile and a charming blush.
Thena smiled, raising one in her own hand, although she never actually partook in drink. She wasn't one for it--didn't like the taste, had no stomach for it. Her blood was too fast in her system, at least that was what she thought. Warriors did not need revelry.
Gilgamesh happily accepted three mugs and gulped them each down. He was good with revelry, and lucky he seemed so made for mirth and celebration. The townspeople happily jostled him in good humour.
Thena tilted her head as Kingo made his way over. There were times when Kingo could feign annoyance or reluctance to partake in their celebrations at times, but he and Gil had much in common in their characters.
He gave Gil a solid pat on the back, of course waving his hand from having slapped the metallic back of his armour. Kingo gave her a genial smile. "Come on, T, I thought you'd be in a good mood."
"I am."
He rolled his eyes at her. "Y'know, not being in a bad mood doesn't make it a good one."
She offered no further comment, looking at Gil again. He was attempting to move away from being the centre of attention. He was made for good times, of course, but he had a shyness to him, too. He was slowly gravitating in their direction.
"Loosen up a little, T," Kingo advised her quietly, and at a distance she would strictly forbid for anyone but him and her sisters. "It'll make him happy if you relax some."
She bristled under her skin. He was right. And after the fight they'd had today, she wanted Gilgamesh to find some reprieve from the ravages of the Deviant world outside Babylon's walls. She smiled at him from afar, even taking a sip of mead (it tasted awful).
"Hey," Gil smiled at her as he finally reached her side, replacing Kingo as the latter went to bug their smallest sibling. "I thought you didn't like ferment?"
She did not. But she smiled at him, "surely it is beloved for a reason."
He shrugged, taking another sip of his own. "It can be nice after a tough day."
She felt as if every sip she swallowed could be felt like a hot rock, travelling down her throat and then dispersing through her veins. Not even their senses could communicate such things, but she certainly felt herself succumbing to the fever of it. "You should rest."
He looked around the room, people partaking in the party and high spirits. "They wanted to celebrate us. It's silly, but they all worked hard to make this stuff. Seems a waste if we don't stay for even a little of it."
Such a soft heart, her Gilgamesh had.
Thena tilted her head, letting her eyes travel over the form of her partner for every and all battles. They had worked as well together today as any other. She had been airborne when she had seen Gilgamesh deal the last, finishing blow. It was impressive, even for an Eternal.
He was quite good at grasping her waist to throw her up in the air.
"The people here are nice," he commented very simply, but very honestly. He raised his cup for another sip.
She found herself mirroring his actions, as if it were the same as matching his rhythm in a battle. It was becoming easier with each sip. "They are."
Sersi was having a wonderful time, dancing with the women. Ikaris was hovering awkwardly, unknowing of how to insert himself but always looming over their sister's back.
Druig and Makkari were both having fun taunting and riling the various tradesmen sitting around the edges of the room. Now, that was a pair made for mirth and merriment. Even more so than Kingo and Sprite, who were having a drinking contest, much to some horror in the eyes of those who did know that Sprite was the same as her siblings in every way that mattered.
Ajak was watching from above, a funny look on her face, before disappearing, probably to wherever Phastos was hiding.
"Y'know I asked Ajak," Gilgamesh began quietly, having followed her gaze up to their leader before her departure. "She said that there were a few injuries, but no one died."
That was good news, worthy of revelry. Some battles would always have casualties, but every day in which they managed to escape with minimal loss was deserving of celebration.
"Thanks to you," she volunteered rather eagerly. He took another sip, and so, as did she. "You killed that thing all but single-handedly."
"Ah," he made a sound to excuse her flattery, taking on a bashful grin again. It pushed up the apples of his cheeks to the corners of his eyes. The lines indicating his good mood were tempting to her fingers. "None of us fight single-handed. It's all of us, together."
"Hm," she agreed, to a point. Indeed, they all fought together out there, as a team. But she often was of the opinion that Gilgamesh carried more than his fair share of the work on his wide shoulders. Wide, strong shoulders. She tilted her head. "Ikaris could do more."
Gilgamesh immediately snorted some laughter but turned his head towards her. "Thena!--you can't say that about your brother."
She rolled her eyes, happily swaying her head to and fro. It felt loose on top of her neck. "It is precisely because he is my brother that I may say that."
He partner merely chuckled, hiding it in his cup. Was it not yet empty? Hers was. "Okay, fine, just don't let Ajak hear you saying that. She'll make you two go on a bonding walk again."
It had been less of a walk and more a watch duty during which they had been all but physically shackled together. They had done their duty, surveilled the area. Then, once again within sight of Babylon Temple, Thena had kicked him from behind and clear through the city walls.
She had been scolded by both Ajak and Phastos, but she had no regrets.
She sighed, examining the bottom of her clay cup with only a stray drop swirling around within. "I would rather walk with you."
Gilgamesh said nothing of the plain but oddly sentimental remark. He looked at her, catching the way she was examining her vessel. "You okay?"
"Hm," she said again, and Gilgamesh always understood her little noises. No one else would. She tossed the cup onto the nearest table. It did not fall, but she hadn't done so with particular care either.
"Hey." Gilgamesh reached for her hand. He wasn't reprimanding her, but it was more than just curiosity in his voice. He grasped the hand that had tossed her cup away like a pebble.
She watched his hand apprehend hers. It was gentle, and soft, just like everything he did with her. Gilgamesh was kind, of course, but it was not mere kindness when he held her hand like this. Like he had been doing ever since they touched down on the planet.
"Look at me," he whispered. The chatter of the room faded and she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek as he drew her face closer to his. The warmth of his palms added to her feeling of basking in the sun, like a lizard on a hot rock.
She swayed in his grasp, no longer caring if her knees were up to the task of walking. Perhaps she was more fatigued from the fight than she had first anticipated. What funny thought; she laughed.
"Whoa, hey," Gilgamesh moved closer, catching her against him before she could lean too far off her feet. He held her carefully, even casting glances around them. "Thena, you don't seem good."
She felt good, though, borderline ecstatic. It felt wonderful to be leaning on him like this, and her head felt as if she were being carried, rocking back and forth with the breeze. She pulled her head up, taking in Gil's concerned look and deep brown eyes. "Do you always look like this?"
His face contorted. It was a handsome face. "We gotta find Ajak."
Thena pointed, although she frowned when Ajak was no longer looking over them from the mezzanine. "She's gone somewhere."
"Okay," her companion said gently. He moved her more within his grasp, although still encouraging her to try and use her feet. "Let's get you to bed, huh? That sound good?"
"Bed," she remarked. They each had their own rooms in the temple. She would rather just sleep on the Domo. But Ajak said it was better for them to integrate themselves...somewhere...or something.
"Bed," he repeated, guiding her quietly towards the edge of the room to the nearest corridor. "You can get some rest, Thena."
She blinked. Her vision felt bleary, her feet as if they weighed...too much. "You know me."
He chuckled next to her. Her palm could feel the rumble of his chest against the plate of armour. He had a big, strong chest. "Yeah, I do know you."
She blinked, finally in the corridor. At least there was more air. "Do you know everyone?"
"Well, not everyone," he continued to laugh, as if she were oh-so-very funny.
She sighed, tilting her head against his shoulder. It was comfortable, and it allowed her to peek at the moon on their way to wherever he was guiding her. "Do you know Gilgamesh?"
"Uh... "
The delay was too long. Anyone who didn't know Gilgamesh was living a life bereft of joy. Thena leaned heavier on her walking assistance. "Gilgamesh is...the very best on the planet. On this planet, or any!"
He swayed from her outburst, trying to hold her both carefully and delicately.
She looked at him again. Her hand even came up to touch his cheeks. She liked the hair around his lips. It drew attention to them. "He is the very best. Kind, sweet, very funny. And he's handsome."
Her companion turned a peculiar shade of red. "O-Oh?"
She nodded, distracted for a moment by her hair swaying into her view. "He's kind, and sweet, and he's funny."
"You did say that."
She pursed her lips. Did she? "And handsome. And strong--he's quite good at lifting me, throwing me."
"Throwing you?"
"When we're fighting together," she sighed again. It was a happy sigh, though. "Fighting is when I may touch him all I like."
Again, he turned a shade of red.
"Off the battlefield I must control myself," she lamented. Not that she was always desiring to touch him. Or perhaps she was, based on what she was saying. "But something about him is so magnetic. One wishes to be as close to him as possible."
"Is that so?"
She stared ahead. They were at her room. It was her bed in front of her. But she didn't like her bed. "Oh."
"Are you okay?"
She looked at her friend again. He was lowering her to sit on her bed. But she didn't like sleeping. It was hard work. And sometimes she would sleep in Gil's bed instead. She preferred Gil's bed. "I miss Gil."
Her companion lowered her arms gently, setting her hands on her lap. She liked his arms. They were thick, but also soft. "You, uh, you should tell him."
"Hm," she pursed her lips. She didn't want to, for whatever reason she could not recall at the moment. "I don't think I should."
He was lying her down on her side, pulling her linen blanket over her. "Why not?"
She tried to tilt her head at him but it was already on the pillow. She wished it was on Gil's chest. "I don't know how to tell him I love him, I think."
"Well," he chuckled again, before leaning in and pressing a kiss on her hair. "I bet he'll understand, no matter how you try to tell him."
That was true, Gilgamesh always understood her.
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