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Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]
“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”
You can also find this story on Ao3!
Prologue / Chapter One / Chapter Two
[Italicized chapters are sort of like,, flash backs? Stuff in the past, whatever.]
[CHAPTER ONE]
I’d never been one for parties.
Yet there I stood, staring up at the house of the address I was given, the windows flashing a multitude of colors as the muffled music blared. People were scattered around the front lawn, holding their drinks and talking happily amongst themselves as laughter filled the cool night air. I felt a sense of midding as I slowly made my way to the front door, a small smile formed on my face.
I opened the front door to be met with the loud, hot air of the party. It wasn’t packed, but it was close. Immediately I started looking around for the one who invited me, gently pushing my way through the groups of people. There were faces I recognized, and ones I didn’t. I hadn’t seen anyone in the area since I’d changed schools years prior. But none of them were who I was searching for. Until finally, I saw him.
He was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes behind a pair of thick black rectangular glasses. He wore a dark green sweater that fit his broad shoulders snugly and blue jeans. I especially knew it was him when I spotted his hiking shoes.
Who wears hiking shoes to a party?
“Chris!” I called. M y cousin, Christopher Hartley, leaning up against the wall and talking to a girl with red hair. He turned to me and smiled.
“Jordan! I didn’t think you’d show,” he said. He took a step towards me and pull ed me into a tight, familiar hug. Chris took a step back as if to get a better look at me. “You look great!”
“Yeah, well, y’know,” I grinned. I tucked a hair behind my ear. It was Chris’s friend group’s graduation party, and it was a big one. A smaller celebration had been held prior by the adults for Chris , a nice outdoor barbecue with baby photos tacked onto the walls and various cork boards. But once that was over and everyone had left, Chris begged me to go with him to a much larger, run by the teens grad party the next week.
“Let me introduce you to my friends!” Chris was practically yelling into my ear to be heard over the blasting music.
“Uhm, no! I’m good, actually, I’ve met your friends!” I’ d met his friends. Mean girls, meat-heads, and -
“C’mon, Jordan, please! You haven’t seen them in like 4 years, they’re totally new people now!” Chris insisted. He grabbed my wrist and began to pull me back towards the red-haired girl. I recognized her then.
“Hi, Ashley,” I waved meekly.
Ashley Brown. Despite the people she surrounded herself with, Ashley seemed like a nice girl. She had red shoulder length hair and hazel eyes under thin eyebrows. Her makeup was subtle and suited her well. She was a very conventionally pretty girl and one that Chris had a huge crush on. Even back in elementary school I remembered seeing her and Chris, nervously sitting together at lunch. Their crushes on each other were so obviously mutual it was sickening to know they were both oblivious to the other’s feelings.
“Hey, Jordan.” Ashley smiled sweetly and waved back at me before glancing back at Chris with a look that screamed “get me out of this.” I decided to get her out of the situation myself while escaping the prospects of having to re meet Chris’s friends. As far as I knew, the group was entirely made up of the same people as it was when I’d changed schools 4 years prior. “Actually Chris, I’m going to go…” I paused. “To the bathroom.”
“But you just got here,” Chris’s face dropped. He knew me well enough to know I was just making an excuse.
“I drink a lot of water, and -”
“Jordan. Don’t ditch me,” Chris said. “Please.” At that moment I despised him for being a sweetheart. I couldn’t say no to Chris, no matter how much I’d wanted to.
Chris spent the next hour or so introducing me to his posse. Just as I’d suspected, it was exactly the same as it had been previously. Emily Davis, Jessica Riley, Matthew Taylor, Michael Monroe, Samantha Giddings, and Hannah and Beth Washington. I noticed there was one missing, but I didn’t dare ask in fear of reminding Chris of th at final person.
“ Sam seems nice,” I commented. “She’s probably my favorite out of everybody that you’ve introduced me to.” And I wasn’t lying. Sam stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the people she ran with. She was active, vegan – not passive-aggressive.
“Yeah, Sam’s great. Hey, I’m going to grab a drink. Do you want something?”
“A water bottle?” Chris gave me a look.
“Really?” I nodded and he left to go get the beverages, leaving me by myself near a fireplace. I took a moment to really look around at the house I was in. It was large, just short of a mansion, and old. The architecture was somewhat gothic.
“ BOO!” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden scare. Someone had grabbed my shoulders hard as they shouted into my ear. I knew immediately who it was, and I was as far from happy as someone could have ever possibly been. I heard a familiar laughter as I turned around to face him, taking deep and steady breaths.
“Joshua Washington,” I said blankly. “Still fail to grow up?” Josh’s smile fades.
“Whatever your name is,” Josh repeated my tone. I couldn’t tell whether or not he had actually forgotten my name or didn’t care to use It. “Still can’t take a joke?”
“Guess not,” I shrugged. Josh stared at me, his shit-eating grin slowly returning to his face. “Or maybe you should come up with some new jokes. ‘Boo’? So last year.” I held eye contact with Joshua for what felt like an hour.
“An oldie but a goodie.” Josh’s brow twitches in frustration. He still held onto his smile but I could tell it was a struggle.
“Not a goodie if nobody fucking likes it.”
“I like it.”
“Hey, Josh! I see you’ve re-met Jordan!” Chris chimed in. Whether he knew we were about to start fighting or not was a mystery, but I was grateful for the interruption nonetheless.
“ Right, Jordan, that’s what it was,” Josh said. “I didn’t remember her at all other than the amount of crying she did.”
“The amount of crying you made me do.”
“All in good fun.”
“You tried to get pig’s blood to ‘Carrie’ me.”
“Like I said, just jokes.” Chris finally interjected.
“C’mon, Jordan, he didn’t mean anything by -” I hold my hand up to stop Chris there.
“I’m not doing this. You were in on a lot of those, Chris, you know how they hurt me.” I didn’t expect him to be on Josh’s side, but then again it wasn’t that surprising considering the amount of torture he helped exact. Chris looked down at the floor in defeat. I turn to Josh.
“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.” I huffed at him. I could barely see him under all of the lights but I managed to catch a glimpse of expression other than snark. For half of a second I could’ve sworn it was remorse.
It didn’t last.
“ Well. I’m not a bully, so… whatever.” Josh turned around and walked away, leaving Chris and I. I was shocked to look at Chris and see him glaring at me.
“Did you have to do that?” He asked. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
“Do what?”
“Start a fight, just like that?” I could feel my heart sink.
“Chris, no, I didn’t -”
“Why can’t you just get over it already?” I could smell the booze on Chris’s breath. I knew he was drunk, he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t. He watched me cry enough growing up to know what kind of effects Joshua Washington had on me and my mental health. I chose to say nothing, my eyes full of tears threatening to spill over. My throat felt tight, and I knew if I said a word, all eyes would be on me as I cried in the middle of the room. So I just shake my head and shrug. I took my water bottle and headed out onto the back porch of the house – where Hannah and Beth Washington happened to be.
They noticed right away that my expression was negative. Something I’d apparently forgotten was how different from their brother the twins were, as they came to me immediately.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Hannah asked as she took my hands into her own. I swallowed.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I sighed, looking over the balcony and into the woods.
“Was it Josh?” Beth asked. My eyes flickered to hers. My silence was all the answer that she’d needed. “He’s an ass, for sure. But he’s not as bad as he makes himself out to be. When it comes to you we don’t know what’s wrong with him.” I’m surprised at what Beth was saying. “Have you heard that dumb stuff about ‘he’s only making fun of you because he likes you’ from, like, grade school? I think it’s like that.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at that. The twins ignore the obvious attitude and continued to chat with me. There was absolutely no way Joshua harbored any feelings for me other than disdain, and there was no way in HELL that it could have ever been romantic.
“Girl, don’t worry. You can hang with us.” Hannah grinned at me as she hopped excitedly. “He’ll leave you alone if we tell him to, or whatever.” I smiled at the girls. Just as I had with Chris, I could smell the booze on them and could only assume this kindness and promise of friendship was temporary. Once they were sober, they wouldn’t remember this at all. And if they did, I was sure they would regret it.
“Sure, that would be nice,” I admitted. Even if it’s just for the night, I would never complain about having friends – even if they were related to my sworn enemy.
“Great! Give me your phone!” Hannah insisted. I did as she’d asked, and next thing I knew I had their contact information. “We’ll hang out after tonight, we promise.” I nodded. I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t hoped it would happen, that these two would somehow integrate me into their lives.
It was severely unfortunate that it didn’t last long.
#until dawn#until dawn x reader#josh washington x you#josh washington x reader#josh washington#joshua washington#enemies to lovers#enemies to friends to lovers#this is an x reader just didn't want to write “y/n” a lot
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The Red King holds a Bleeding Head
A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 6.
So this is strange.
Last time you came here, Alice recognised you and the card soldiers didn't. And now, someone barely mentioned in your childhood storybooks was standing her before you.
Instead of the tiny animated King that the Queen of Hearts could crush underneath her foot should he ever raise his voice, an actual person was cowering and shivering in fear and anxiety, at the thought of his over-controlling wife finding out about you.
This world just kept getting more and more strange....
<Y-you need to l-leave. I-If she loses h-her temper, you'll lose- > He stammers, trying and failing to push you back into the mirror. The glass remains hard, will it be like that till you wake up? Probably.
"I'll lose my head, I get the jist." Why did he notice you? He wasn't mentioned in the original story until the Queen of Hearts was introduced, so why was he here? "I want to leave but......where exactly is here? And please don't tell me some riddle..."
<You're in the Queen's Rose Garden....b-but how did you even get in here? T-The guards sh-should have stopped y-you> You watch him nervously twist his hold on the cape, and if holds it any tighter it might rip in his grip.
"Probably the same way Alice got here-"
His face blanches, turning so white that it rivals the white petals of the roses. <Who....Who's Alice?>
"She's a girl lost in here, she's supposed to be painting the roses with some of the guards, I haven't seen her since-Mmph!" The Red King slaps a palm over your mouth mid sentence, his eyes widening with terror. You can't hear anything, but you can feel the hand over your mouth start to shake violently.
<Th-the girl....I need to get her out before she finds her!> He takes off running into the depths of the rose garden. Well, the dream brought you here for some reason, maybe he is.
"Hey! Wait up!" You chase after him, because what other choice do you have? Whatever the mirror wanted to show you, what you'd seen already clearly wasn't it.
The Red King disappears around a corner, which you follow only to skid to a stop. You arrived at the original rose garden from your first dream, and it's now filled with dozens of card soldiers. You take a few steps back until you're somewhat hidden by the bushes. Maybe it's best to heed the King's warning, especially with who's in it right now.
Wielding a massive rosebush of red and half painted roses, over her head in anger, with the roots of the bush still clinging to some of the dirt it had been planted in, is the Queen of Hearts.
<For painting my roses red, someone will lose his head!> She looks exactly like the statue in the main street, and her colors have been drained to match the greyscale environment around you. The only color, still a deep red, makes up her dress. She reminds you of the tiny animated King of Hearts.
And she's infuriated.
A paint covered Alice is at her feet with the card soldiers from earlier, who cower fearfully.
<Y-Your Majesty, if anyone's to blame, it's him!> <Have mercy, Your Grace. It was the Ace!> <Gah, no, it was the TWO!> <It was the Three, I say!> The card soldiers are quick to turn on each other, desperate to escape the Queen's wrath.
<Enough of this. Off with ALL their HEADS!> The Queen's voice booms with rage, and a part of you thinks she's going to save herself time with a beheading, and just beat them to death with her rose bushes.
The Red King runs in between with the Queen and her future victims, trying to shield them from his angry 'wife', though captor might be more appropriate. <D-Dear please, they were just trying to correct their mistake!> He tries to reason with her, but as you watch her grip tighten around the rose bushes, it's safe to assume he's doing the opposite.
<Winston, are you disobeying me?> The Queen's voice is deathly low, as if threatening the King, or Winston, to choose his next words carefully.
You watch Winston's face morph into one of abject terror. <No! NO! Of course not! I-I would nev- >
The Queen's hand shoots out and grips his ruffled collar pulling him close, but like a movie you can still hear what she says despite it being a quiet hiss of a threat. <Then, I suggest you hold your tongue before you lose it along with your HEAD!> She yells that last part, just terrifies the person she's supposed to call her 'one true love' more.
Winston looks like he's going to pass out from fear, and even from this far away, you can see him trembling and hear his shakey reply, <Y-Yes, dear. I-I'm sorry.>
The Queen smiles, triumphant, pressing a soft peck to the still terrified and trembling Winston's cheek, either ignoring the evident fear on his face or not caring, before her rage comes forth full strength. <NOW OFF WITH ALL THEIR HEADS>
<Ooooooh! Yaaaaay!>The surrounding card soldiers cheer at the death sentence. The Red Queen smiles in glee at the reception to her verdict, while her husband's eyes meet yours.
Terrified. He's terrified. Why is this considered love, this is just abuse.
<Hee hee hee.> The Queen's even laughing, for shit's sake!! How in the hell was this romanticized! In any way!
The cards start to sing, and it's a chilling tune.
<A fitting end. Color, you can't mend.>
<Everyone knows the roses should be red.>
The world starts to fade around you. Are you waking up? But you still don't know what's going on here. Why was the mirror showing you this anyway?
Was it trying to convince you this world was even worse than it was?! Because it worked.
You open your eyes to your bedroom ceiling. The sunshine from outside tells you it's dawn. "It was just roses. Why didn't anyone try to help Winston? Why didn't anyone else try to stop the Queen?" You mutter.
You sit up and stare at the window, now normal. Not glowing, no ripples. Slipping Grim from your arms, you slip out of the blankets and approach the mirror. Setting your palm on the glass, it doesn't do anything. It doesn't faze through or pull you into another world.
"So......was it all just a dream?" You don't even have an answer to that, and you're just as confused as you were before. Why do you keep dreaming things like this? What was the point of seeing the life that poor Winston lived?
Is.....Is there someone watching? Is there someone watching you and sending you these? As a warning or to help?
But the contents of your dream, minus what Winston was going through, felt similar to reality. Riddle had kicked out Ace for a petty reason. Sure, it was theft, but it wasn't something worth taking someone's magic over. And if your experience from lunch yesterday held any water, then the card soldiers of Heartslabyul were just complicit. Willing to stand aside if it meant keeping their heads, or in this case, their magic.
But since today's the unbirthday party, let's hope your reality doesn't mimic your dream.
You're still lost in thought about your dream as you push through your morning routine. You're no expert on bad omens, but this feels like a bad omen. Like a really bad omen.
To be honest, you didn't have very high hopes for today. Not because you thought Ace was going to supremely fuck it up, but because having high hopes shot you in the foot yesterday and that was a really long and grueling day. And a little because you thought someone was going to fuck things up.
Mornings are hard enough when you know that you have a long day ahead of you. It's even harder when that long day might involve a lost head.
So when Ace finally pulled himself out of bed, or rather off your couch, while Deuce was using your bathroom, you weren't expecting much.
You also weren't expecting him to take you by surprise while you made breakfast.
He also probably wasn't the punishment of having a rubber spatula slapped across his face.
"What the hell, Ace!" You scream, your once clean uniform now covered in pancake batter from when you jumped in surprise. "Don't scare me like that!"
You're just glad you are making pancakes when he sets his hands on your shoulders instead of taking the pan out because that pan would have probably made a permanent indent in his skull.
“Jumpy much, Prefect?” He laughs, massaging the reddening bruise forming on his face.
You groan, “And to think I bothered to make you breakfast….”
Ace’s eyes brighten at the mention of food. “Well, don’t mind if I-”
You snatch the plate out of reach and let a teasing smile cross your face, “Well, I guess you can wait till the party to eat then. Since you’re fine with scaring the person feeding you…”
“Fine, fine, I’m sorry ______.” He puts on his most apologetic looking face as he ‘apologizes’, and it’s so melodramatic that it makes you laugh, “Food, please.”
You hand them over with a laugh, “Just don’t finish them, the Great Grim will be very hangry if he doesn’t get his tower of pancakes in the morning.”
Ace stuffs one into his mouth, before his eyes widen, “D’l’shush.” He says with his mouth full, and swallows before continuing, “Can you cook for me everyday, Prefect?”
You wipe the stray batter from your vest, there goes your last clean shirt. “Will it stop you from stealing your dorm leader’s tarts?”
“You aren’t letting that go, are you?”
“Nope.” You say with a teasing smile on your face, before turning back to breakfast making. A peaceful start to the morning is nice. It’s probably going to get hectic later on, so you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.
“Hey, uh, Prefect, can I ask you something?” Ace pauses mid-sentence for some reason, “Something important.”
There it is, “Sure, what’s up?”
“Do you remember what we talked about last night?” You stop to think for a second. You remember Ace and Deuce talking last night but not what it was about. You occasionally dragged into it, but you responded with one word answers. Now you wish you hadn’t. But you were so tired last night.
“N-Not really.” You curse yourself mentally for the stutter, but you feel the peaceful feeling leech away from your body. You don’t like where this is going.
“We talked about you a lot last night. You didn’t seem to notice.” And now you really didn’t like where this was going. “Juice told me about what happened on Main Street after you went to bed.”
You can feel Ace’s stare through your back. Please don’t go down this street. Please. “Y-Yeah about the delinquents….”
“Yeah, we talked about that but I’m talking about what you told him.” Dammit Deuce, you knew that Ace and Deuce are slowly growing into their friendship, but if Deuce was obsessed with you, why the hell was he telling Ace about your private conversations.
But Deuce is a yandere that doesn’t know about how to be a yandere. Because his mother, seven bless her, had tried to shield him from the influence that probably made her own life hell for a time. And Ace is a yandere who does know about this stuff.
Who better to ask than your knowledgeable roommate.
“About what?” You can feel your heart speed up.
“About your home world.” The grate of a chair on the floor tells you that he stood up, followed by footsteps tell you that he is so much closer. “You’re burning the pancakes Prefect.”
“Shit!” You snap out of your stupor, tossing the burnt pan into the nearby sink. Great, this is going splendidly. “W-What about my homeworld?”
You can feel Ace’s breath by your ear, he’s that close. You can feel a hand on your shoulder, and you tense. “About how your world sees darlings and stuff. Do they really punish what we do?”
He’s suspicious. Fuck, he’s suspicious. You should have asked Deuce to keep it a secret. But that could have made you suspicious to him. Talk about a Catch 22.
“Yeah….it’s,” You turn to face him. Your face is so close to his. It’s that stupid collar that grants you some distance. “It’s complicated.”
“Yeah, it probably is, is that why you freaked out in class? Because what’s allowed in our world isn’t in your world ____?”
Um…”Yes?”
“But why were you scared?” Okay, you are taking back all of your ‘Ace is an idiot’ comments. He’s actually very perceptive. And to you, that’s a bad thing.
Ace studies you as you reply “I-I thought murder was going a little far..?”
Ace smiles at that and a sigh of relief bubbles into your throat. “Yeah, I get that, my dad told me he’d be pissed if I killed someone on campus.” Phew.
“After all, it’s not like you’re hiding something Prefect. I mean you have this charm to you that pulls people to you, it would be terrible if someone thought you were a darling." Do you agree? Why does it feel like this is a trick? You hold your face as calm as possible, given your pulsating heart beat. If this is a test, you are not failing it.
“Yeah, it would be. But it’s not.” You cross your arms in an attempt to exude dominance but like the last time you still feel a little small.
“But if you were, It’s not like I’d do anything to ya, Prefect.” He pulls you in closer in a ‘hug’, which it would be if his collar wasn’t in the way. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” Not really, you trust him as far as you can throw him, which isn’t even possible.
“If Prefect was what?” Deuce pokes his head in the kitchen, Grim is a bubbling mix of hangry in his arms.
“It’s nothing, Juice.” he pulls away from you and you can still feel chills. “Just if Prefect was a darling, we wouldn’t hurt her, right?” You hate how he gives you one of his friendly smirks when he finishes that statement.
“Oh, yeah we wouldn’t.” Deuce smiles at you. But it doesn’t soothe you. In fact, it makes the underlying terror even worse. “Ow! Grim!”
Grim frees himself from Deuce’s arms with a well placed bite to his forearm. In his morning grumpiness and anger, he exclaims, “Henchman! You left me!"
You force a smile. "To make you breakfast boss. Eat." You hold out a plate full of food that Grim happily snatches, devouring it with usual gusto. You, on the other hand, have lost your appetite. You’ll just eat at the party, where there’s an audience to whatever happens to you.
Plus, after what just happened, it’s for the best that Grim keeps full today. The last thing everyone needs is Grim to eat one of the sacred tarts before Riddle does.
But right now, all you want to do is leave. Leave the horrible oppressing air beating down on you to smother you in fear. And you have an excuse to leave, drying pancake batter on your shirt. Quickly, you shove another plate full into Deuce’s arms. "Help yourself, Deuce. We have a long day ahead of us. I’m gonna go and change my shirt.” The sooner you’re out of here, the calmer you’ll be.
Deuce gives you an appreciative smile but he looks concerned. “T-Thanks but…Are you okay Prefect?”
You calmly, not really but you really did try to act calm, shake your head. “Yeah, fine. Just…..” You’re too scared to be alone with them right now, “Don’t want to be late to the unbirthday party. Be right back!”
As you get a good distance away from the kitchen, you press yourself to the wall. It’s a great thing that the walls are thin.
“What did you tell her Ace?!” Deuce’s whispering sounds outraged. So he was putting up a front for you.
“Hey, I just asked her whether she was a darling or not, plain and simple. Besides, we both know we wouldn’t hurt her.”
“I don’t think she thinks that…”
“It’s not like we're going to. Take it from me Juice. First rule of dealing with darlings, don’t make them feel afraid.”
“If she is a darling…” Deuce doesn’t believe it. Thank the seven, he doesn’t believe it.
“You don’t think she is?”
“No..Not really.”
“It doesn’t matter either way. If she’s not a darling then, we’ll figure something out.” What does that mean? What does figuring something out entail?
There’s silence for a bit, as if Deuce is thinking about something, “But we’re scaring her…”
“Well, after the unbirthday party we’ll make her feel better. Spend time with her, make her trust us again. Don’t worry about it, Deuce.”
Silence, followed by an, “Alright.” The sound of something heavy hitting your cabinets and the noise resounds through the house. “But if you’re wrong about this and we end up hurting her, you’ll be sent home in pieces–if there’s even enough of you left to send out.”
“Got it. You gotta trust me more on this Juice, y’know since I’m the only one that knows about this stuff.”
“Fine. But you better not be wrong.” Shit. So they’re both suspicious of you and even worse, they’re working together. At least somewhat.
But there is some hope. Deuce, above all else, doesn’t want you to be hurt. If you use that against him, then maybe you can use this to your advantage. As a figurative bodyguard, to protect you from harm.
Another bombing knock on the door nearly makes you jump out of their skin. “Helllooo!?” It’s Cater, not the best person to pop up, but beggars cannot choose.
“I-I’m coming!” You call out as Ace’s and Deuce’s voices hush at the sound of your voice. But you already doubt that you would get any more information.
As expected Cater has a very bright smile greets you as soon as you open the door, "Good mooorning! Did you enjoy your sleepover? Did you bond over pillow fights and card games?”
“N-Not really, I was really tired. Could barely stay awake.” Cater’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t vocalize whatever he realized. “W-Why are you here so early?”
Cater pushes past you into the foyer, and envelopes you into a hug. “Do I need a reason to see my favorite underclassmen?”
You squirm in his hold, “No, but-”
“Oh, it’s you Cater.” Ace, Deuce and Grim all poke their heads out of the kitchen in confusion.
“Hiiii, did you have fun?”
“Yeah, but-”
Cater interrupts them, “Well, you should get one of the tarts we made yesterday and go apologize to Riddle.” Cater hesitates for a moment and his expression drops into a frown, “And you should probably hurry, because after the trouble yesterday, we’re a little short handed.” Is something wrong because he’s never this serious.
“What does that mean?” “Don’t worry. I’ve totes got it under control. Anyway, off to the party we go!”
“Wait, I haven’t changed-” Whatever you were about to say is cut short by Cater dragging you by your arm all the way to Heartslabyul, with Ace, Deuce and Grim not far behind. So after this shitshow of a morning you’ll be attending an important tea party with a super strict dictator with dried pancake mix on your shirt. Thanks Ace.
Heartslabyul looks as neat as ever, with the rose bushes perfectly trimmed, et cetera, et cetera.
Ace, massive chestnut tart in hand, is prepared to march inside and spare you the additional migraine. “All right, so I’ll hand over the tart and say I’m sorry, then-”
But no, no that’s not happening.
Because Cater popped out of the rose maze. The same Cater that was still holding your arm at the mirror entrance, a good ten feet away. And y’know what. You might want to consider visiting Sam for some extra-strength headache medicine.
Cater B waves at Cater A, “Hey, it’s about time I got back! Good to see me!”
Cater A, not bothering to explain his sudden perfect copy, waves back at him. “And me! Looking good as always, me!”
Well at least you could now explain how he gave that flower to you in the rose garden yesterday. Wait if he can clone himself, doesn’t that mean he can send a clone out to follow you around?
“Bwuh?”
“Th-There’s two Caters?!”
“Are you guys identical twins?!”
You don’t share your friends’ noise of confusion, it’s already 7 AM and you’re exhausted for the day.
“Nope. Don’t have any siblings.” The explanation is one you were expecting, it’s his unique magic ‘Split Card’ that allows him to clone himself. Cool. That's just cool. Deuce puts two and two together about their loss yesterday, but once again, you’re already exhausted.
And more headaches come jumping out of the bushes.
“Welcome home, daaarlings.”
“Good to see you, ____”
You yelp as more appear from nowhere. Just how many of these can he make at once. He could be his own card soldier army if he wanted, for seven’s sake!
“J-S-Y-K, I’m actually the real Cater.” No,we are not playing this game of who’s the real Cater, you’re here to give Riddle this stupid tart and then you’re eating too much of Trey’s desserts. Not this game of human bullshit.
“Making these duplicates is suuuper exhausting, so I can’t maintain them for long.” Well, that’s a little relief. But Riddle’s left Ace’s collar on for a good day now, is there not a time limit for magic or something? Has Riddle not slept to make sure the collars stay on or something? “Anyway , if we’re late, heads will roll. And since we’re several people short, we’ll need your help.”
“But-” You start but Cater interrupts you.
“When this is over, I promise I’ll take you straight to Riddle.” Well, there goes head straight to Riddle, this better not bite you in the ass.
Wait. Oh, not the roses again.
“What, MORE roses?”
“And here we go again!”
You sigh, let’s get this over with already.
And now, red paint now joined the creme-colored mess on your vest and shirt. Today was becoming as big a mess as your shirt. Yay….
But on the brightside, Deuce and Grim managed to get the hang of painting the roses with magic.
On the dark side, painting the roses took so long that it was time for the unbirthday party to start.
So now you were in the extravagantly decorated tea garden still stuck with that stupidly big tart that should have been given to Riddle an hour ago, thanks Cater.
By now, all the Heartslabyul students had gathered in the garden, and, at least to you, it’s not very festive for a party. Everyone, decked out in a pretty cool uniform, looks as stiff as a soldier on the battlefield. As if waiting for a bomb to go off.
Some students buried in the crowd have collars just like Ace’s around their necks, the rule breakers collared like dogs with a cone of shame. It’s just barbaric.
The sound of trumpets make the few slouching stand at attention in utter silence and terror, as one of the students play announcer, a something of Spades.
“All Hail our Leader, the Red Sovereign Himself….Dorm Leader Riddle!” You instinctively cringe at the title. Who would willingly want to call someone that, and isn’t clearly joking?
The man of the hour walks in with all the nonchalance of someone who definitely didn’t hear what you just did, but the card soldiers do exactly as the ones in your dream did, and forgive the pun, followed suit.
“We salute you, Dorm Leader Riddle!” Are they not going to introduce Trey? He’s right next to Riddle and the Vice Dorm Leader. But for some reason, they don't. Is this why Trey seems so insecure?
Riddle inspects every nook and cranny of the tea garden as if looking for the tiniest error or mistake, from the table cloths to the flamingo enclosure for what you hope isn’t an actual croquet game with live animals. You watch each of the other dorm students tense in fear as he makes his rounds.
After too many minutes of silence, Riddle finally makes his judgment, “Hm. The garden roses are red, the tablecloths are white…This seems a proper unbirthday indeed.”
The surrounding dorm students all sag in visible relief. How much of a traditionalist and a perfectionist is this guy?!
“Is there a dormouse asleep in the teapot,” There’s a what in the what?!, “as there should be?” Just as you make a mental note to not drink the tea, you watch the formerly relaxed card soldier tense up like someone lit a fire under their ass.
Though they sag again when Trey tells Riddle that they’ve prepared everything to the Queen of Hearts, and Riddle’s expectations.
Just how much fear has Riddle instilled in the hearts of his fellow dorm mates?
Grim seems less concerned with the terror on the faces of nearly everyone here and is more concerned with their outfits. “Myah! Those are some fancy duds!”
You have to agree they are pretty nice, but they are bigger things to focus on here right now, like how the soldiers seem like they're about to have a stroke with all the stress they’re under.
“These are the Heartslabyul dorm clothes.” Cater explains, “Aren’t they fierce? At the forefront of fashion, and they look great in Magicam.”
“Yeah, but-” There’s a flash of light to your left, and Cater’s in his dorm uniform.
“One of the Queen’s rules mandates formal dress on party days.” Once again cool, but you want to know about- “As a show of kindness from a beloved mentor, I’ll help coordinate your outfits.”
Another light flashes, and you feel the dirty clothes you’re wearing ripple around your body, reforming and changing.
In place of the messy version of your Ramshackle, is a version of the Heartslabyul uniform fit precisely to your style of dress (masc version/fem version).
It’s nice, not bad but nice. As long as you get those clothes back, you don’t really have clothes to spare.
Ace and Deuce are in uniforms that match the rest of the card soldiers, and even Grim’s bow matches the Heartslabyul colors.
“Whoa!”
“Lookin’ sharp!”
“Myah! So cool! Henchman, do I look cool!”
“Yes, you do. You look very cool, Grim.” Grim smiles in your arms, and you might as well complement the other two who call you friend, “You both look fantastic too!”
The two’s faces brighten as they smile at you. “T-Thanks!”
“So do you, Prefect!”
“Now, let’s tear this party up! And don’t forget to give Riddle the tart.”
“Yes! Let’s not delay this anymore! Give him the tart.” You’re about to push Ace in the direction of the tyrannical and not your damn problem dorm leader. When the sound of teacup being hit by a teaspoon rings out. “Oh, c’mon!”
“Before we begin the croquet tournament, let us make a toast. Does everyone have their teacup?” You pick one of the teacups up as politely as possible to keep the dorm leader’s eyes off you. But if you grip it any harder, you’re going to break the china.
“On this most significantly unauspicious of days, I bid all in attendance….a very merry unbirthday!” That tart that got Ace kicked out better be good for all you had to go through.
The whole garden repeats the same cheer, minus you because you’re going to lose it the longer you stay.
“Ace, this is your chance!” Cater whispers.
“Yes, finally. Ace, let’s go.” You practically drag Ace by his arm all the way up to Riddle, careful to prevent that tart from falling to the ground because if something happens to that damn tart you’re going to lose your mind. “Now apologize, like you mean it. Even if you don’t.”
“Right…Uh, dorm leader, sir…”
“Ah, it’s you. The tart thief. Oh, and _____, I see you’ve been keeping out of trouble.” Ace gives you a confused look.
“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later,” you whisper, before turning your attention back to the tyrant, “Yes, I have,” You laugh nervously. “I wanted to make sure that Ace apologized….correctly.”
“Do you, now?” Riddle crosses his arms, awaiting that apology. Don’t screw it up Ace.
“Yeah, so I wanted to apologize for eating that tart. We made you a new tart to replace it.”
“Hmm? And what kind of tart is it?” So far so good. Now just tell him what is before they cut that nice looking cake over there. You’re really hungry now.
“I’m so glad you asked! It’s a chestnut tart, and I swear, we weren’t stingy with the chestnuts.” Okay, no snark, nothing that can be taken out of context, we’re almost through the woods.
Riddle reacts like he’s just been struck. “A CHESTNUT tart?!” Shit.
“What?!”
“Is…is something wrong?”
Riddle’s eye twitches in anger, “The Queen of Heart’s rule 562: One must never bring a chestnut tart to an unbirthday tea party.” FUCK.
Riddle looks like he’s going to blow a gasket. “This is an utterly flagrant rule violation! Do you not understand what you’ve done?!” Oh no….” You’ve ruined an otherwise perfect unbirthday!”
“Rule 562..?!” How many fucking rules are there!?
“How many of these rules are there?!”
“There are 810 rules in all,” What the FUCK, “And as dorm leader I can of course recite each and every one of them.” What the hell….
Shit, you need to damage control, “W-Wait, we didn’t know that! And besides, we weren't planning on bringing it to the unbirthday party.”
Riddle, like an asshole, ignores you, “As dorm leader of a dorm established to honor the Queen of Hearts’ rigor, I cannot ignore this. Destroy the offending tart immediately! Then throw these rulebreakers out of the dorm!”
Fuck this place.
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Painting the Cullen Boys' nails [headcanons]
divider from: @saradika-graphics
🧣Carlisle
-he will need a little convincing, but only the smallest amount (only because he was worried about his work at the hospital)
-but you’re his biggest weakness, he will never refuse you
-will how much he’s seen in his life, he recognizes how little this “feminine” thing matters
-he’s very comfortable with his masculinity so he doesn't mind having some nail polish on
-he’s always proud to have his nails done by you because they're done by you
-he's very supportive of your interests and hobbies
-so when you came to him excited to paint his nails, he didn't even think of saying no
-he very much enjoys and values that quiet time you get together when you paint his nails
-it's usually filled with quiet conversations and light music coming from somewhere in the house
-the ambiance of sitting quietly with carlisle is very peaceful and comfortable
-when you ask him to paint yours, he does surprisingly well
-he has very steady hands, so no need to worry about him messing up
-he doesn't care about the color, he just cares that you're the one doing it
⚾Emmett
-when this king is in love, he’s an absolute simp
-he never refuses any of your stupid antics
-for being so masculine and strong, you thought he wouldn't like the idea of painted nails but he welcomed it with open arms
-he actually is the one to paint your nails after you paint his (without even being asked, when his are dry he excitedly grabs the bottle and one of your hands saying “your turn!! :D”)
-he’s not very good at it, but you both enjoy it
-he prefers darker colors like black or blue but loves whatever you do to him
-he will proudly flaunt his nails and if anyone says anything negative, he will stand up to them and offer to kick their ass
-if they ever chip while he’s hunting or something, he will run to you asking to fix them
-you think it's really sweet how much he loves them and how much you both have fun painting your nails together
-he has painted nails the most often
🐴Jasper
-he needs some convincing but when you start painting he honestly could care less
-it's not that he loves it or hates it, he prefers the actual painting process because he gets to be close to you
-i mean you literally have to hold his hands to paint his nails, so of course, you're close
-he also is completely weak for you
-anything you ask, ye shall receive
-including this old cowboy wearing some nice nail polish
-but damn does he look good, you think he somehow looks hotter than normal
-and you're not shy to voice that
-he loves your attention and praise, so he's very willing to let you paint his nails again in the future
-he doesn’t really like to paint your nails because he doesn’t like to mess up. But will do it if you asked him to
-the second most likely one to wear your nail polish
-he likes black polish the most
🎹Edward
-the most reluctant out of the bunch
-it took him a lot of convincing but when he saw how happy it made you, there's no way he could refuse
-he doesn't love it, he's very old fashioned and doesn't really enjoy such feminine things
-but he likes being close and having a quiet intimate moment
-the only part he likes about it is seeing your focused face and feeling your hand hold his
-he enjoys hearing the random little thoughts you have while focusing
-he doesn’t like the time it takes for his nails to dry, so when you’re not looking he’ll shake his hands around at vampire speed to dry them
-also he doesn’t hate the compliments you give him, especially how nice hinds hands look when he’s playing piano
-prefers the fancier, more elegant colors (like gold, or muted tones)
-would have his nails done the least
#twilight renessaince#twilight#twilight fanfiction#twilight headcanon#daddy carlisle#carlisle cullen#carlisle cullen x reader#emmett cullen#emmett cullen x reader#jasper hale#jasper hale x reader#edward cullen#edward cullen x reader#twilight x reader
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GENSHIN MEN & WRITING LOVE LETTERS TO YOU .
characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette x gn!reader genre. romantic domestic fluff. an. in honour of @celestiamail 's opening! also long distance with the men. eugh| please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
xiao
xiao's letters to you often come short, sweet, and straight to the point. he saves his love for when he next meets you – it's almost as if him in person and him who writes the letters are two different people. you've learnt to manage your expectations though – that is how xiao thinks, and it doesn't mean that he loves you any less. in fact, he loves you so much, he prefers to show you his love in person.
zhongli
quite unlike xiao, zhongli's letters to you are frequently long-winded. he goes on and on and on about his day, what he's seen, what he's eaten; you can see the ink colour change due to him running out of ink and having to change, and you chuckle, knowing how your lover is. although long, his words don't seem incessant. you hang on to every word he writes, hungry for more.
diluc
diluc's letters to you seem as if his worries just jump out at you when you first read it. the content is mostly about his concern for you, how are you doing, are you doing well? please talk to me, i'll even send more paper to you, just write to me more often. it's not actually on, you, however – you write to him at least twice a week. he is worrisome, but you know that he cares for you, so so much.
kaeya
when kaeya writes a letter to you, it's often filled with inside jokes that have been underlined and arrowed with a "get it? get it?" memo next to it. it makes you chuckle and mentally reply, "yes, kaeya. i get it.", which you include in your reply letter. kaeya's letters are cheeky, with a hint of good-natured worry – never overprotective, never uncaring, but just right.
childe
childe's letters are always sent with a hint of bittersweetness – with the risk of his job (yes, even though he's a powerful harbinger) – it's never telling which letter would be his last. treasure his familiar handwriting and the sweet, sweet words he uses, and hug it's warmth closer to your chest. his words are sweet, and he always ends it with til the next letter, my love.
neuvillette
neuvillette's letters are always written with never-ending formality – even though you've chastised him through and through that you are his lover, not a client of a court case, the formality of his words never turn off. it's hard enough for him to write with enough delicacy with his limited knowledge on human emotion, and writing in between the lines? he's trying his best, and you make sure that he knows it. he loves you.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!
#astronetwrk#zhongli x reader#kaeya x reader#diluc x reader#childe x reader#neuvillette x reader#zhongli fluff#kaeya fluff#diluc fluff#childe fluff#neuvillette fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin x gn reader#genshin impact x gn reader#[📝 stewardess' notepad!]#genshin fluff#domestic fluff#xiao x reader#xiao x gn reader#xiao fluff#love letters#long distance#genshin long distance#genshin ldr
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—invisible string
pairing: isaac lahey x fem!reader
summary: the three times isaac and you realized that you were connected by an invisible string
warnings: none i think
note: just imagine kitchen and dining room of the mccall house being in different rooms please!!
1. when you guys met for the first time
isaac lahey did not expect anyone to jump to his rescue, let alone give him a home in a world where he had no place to go. maybe it was just because he always thought that he did not deserve that kind of care. and he had been right, right until he had met scott mccall at least.
the boy that had made it his mission to save isaac and bring him home with him. like a friend, or even a brother.
at first it was hard for isaac to face that it was just incredible kindness that motivated scott to do what he did, he didn't have a reason for it, it was not of any worth, no, actually, it was just nice.
"tell me if you need anything else" scott patted his shoulder, before he left the guest room, leaving isaac sitting on the bed.
"thank you" isaac muttered more to himself than anyone else, hiding his face in his hands and breathing out in relief. he was safe and he knew it.
when he came down to dinner later, scott was already setting the table. isaac turned his head to look into the kitchen, but there was no sight of melissa, just an unfamiliar girl, who was stirring a pot.
the first thing that he noticed were the amount of bracelets that covered your arms, they did not have any specific color, they were ranging from pink to brown to green and they nearly covered your entire arms up to the elbow.
you were also incredibly beautiful, as you were starring into the pot in deep concentration, not even noticing his eyes on you.
"isaac?" scott called and isaac turned his head, walking away from the kitchen and back into the dining room.
"where's your mom?" he asked, taking the glasses from scott and setting them down on the table.
"she had to take an extra shift" scott explained.
"okay" isaac nodded "who's the girl in the kitchen?"
"girl in the kitchen?" scott repeated laughing "are you trying to prank me?"
isaac shook his head, unsure if scott was joking or if he really didn't know that there was a girl in his kitchen.
"she's cooking" isaac shrugged and scott furrowed his brows, seemingly just now noticing the smell of warm and delicious soup that was hanging in the air.
"mom left us some soup" scott said "but i still have to warm it" he looked between dining room and kitchen in confusion. "girl in the kitchen" he repeated again, muttering to himself.
"i already warmed it for you" you said as you entered the room, under both boys surprised shrieking, the pot filled with soup in your hand. you set it down on the table.
"y/n" scott breathed, directing a hand to his chest as he sighed in relief.
"hey" you smiled, before you hugged the boy. "you must be isaac" you shook isaacs hand smiling "i'm y/n"
"what are you even doing here?" scott asked, before isaac was able to answer the greeting "i thought you weren't back for another week"
"well i got off a bit sooner, but thanks for beeing so cheerful about it" you laughed, walking into the kitchen to get a plate for yourself.
"is she a friend of yours?" isaac asked "and if so, why have i never met her?"
"yeah, she's stiles' younger sister" scott explained as he sat down and isaac followed his example "she was studying abroad for a year"
"stiles should be here any minute" you noted, taking a look on your phone as you sat down across from the boys. "but i think it would be alright if we began to eat without him"
"so you're back huh?" scott nodded "and the first thing you decide is to come back here.. wait, how did you even come inside?"
"oh" you laughed, filling your plate with soup "i came through the window"
"if that isn't the typical stilinski manner" scott muttered disapprovingly.
"i could come through your bedroom window and step onto your face if you would like that more" you said defensively, "i thought the kitchen window was a good alternative, not my fault you leave them open all the time"
"i'm sorry" scott rolled his eyes, deciding that it was no use to fight with you. "how have you been?"
"good" you smiled "look at these" you raised your arms, displaying the colorful bracelets "my kids made them for me before i left"
"your kids?" isaac asked, hesitantely engaging in the conversation.
"i trained a dance team" you explained "all the girls made me bracelets so that i wouldn't forget them"
"that’s cool” isaac muttered, before he quickly looked down when your eyes fell on him.
you smiled. "so scott told me you're living with him now, how's the mccall household treating you?"
scott chuckled at the motherly tone you were speaking in, always the protector.
"it's pretty fresh" isaac answered and felt a lot less uncomfortable when he looked up and saw you smile "but i really appreciate it"
"that's great" you laughed. isaac noticed you opening your mouth to maybe ask another question when you were interrupted by a sound upstairs.
a mere second later, stiles was walking down the stairs. "hey guys"
"could you both please stop coming into the house through the windows?" scott asked "it's weird"
"no it's not" you and stiles said at the same time. your brother smiled as you patted the seat next to you. "i made soup"
"no" scott corrected "my mom made soup, you just happened to break into my house and warm it up before i got the chance to"
"your mom... your house" you muttered "these are harsh words to throw at someone who's been practically saving your ass since middle school, scotty"
"yeah, aren't we all a big family?" stiles asked outstretching his hands in scott's direction, who looked unamused at the siblings chatter.
"yeah" isaac nodded.
"not you blondie" stiles hissed, quickly smiling again as he noticed scott's disapproving look.
"oh, how i missed you both together" scott sighed, continuing to eat, while stiles and you started a discussion about the ending of the most recent star wars film.
isaac watched amused how everything seemed to set back into place, your dynamic making it clear that the three of you were like siblings. deep down he wished that he had something like this as well, a friendship that could make all his sorrows disappear.
later when isaac was up in the guest room, unpacking a few things, there was a knock on his door. thinking that it was scott, isaac called the person in without looking.
"looks pretty comfortable" it was not scott, but you who was now standing in the door.
"uh, yeah" isaac answered unsurely, clutching his hand to the back of his neck.
"scott told me about derek" you said, catching him off-guard "and i just wanted to say that i know that he can be harsh sometimes, but he'll come around"
"thank you" isaac nodded, sitting down the last of his pictures.
"is that your mom?" you asked, walking closer to him. isaac nodded and you smiled "i think i have seen her before, i think she went to high school with my mom"
"really?" isaac asked suprised at your revelation.
"we met her a few times" you continued "my mom told me a few stories, they were friends i believe"
"huh" isaac huffed "funny"
"yeah" you smiled "it really is"
his body felt lighter at the warm feeling of familiarity that entered his chest. maybe, after all, the kind of friendship he was longing for wasn't so far away.
2. picking you up from the worst date of your life
the phone vibrated off the night table, but isaac caught it before it could hit the ground. he wasn't really awake yet, having gone to bed a bit sooner than normal. as he threw a look at his alarm clock, he noticed the time being well past midnight.
"hello?" his voice was hoarse, but it seemed like the person on the other end did not mind.
"isaac?" you asked and he sat up straight as he recognized your voice.
"y/n?"
"yes, it's me" he could hear you cry into the phone "could you come and pick me up?"
he was already putting on his pants, before your voice had even come to the end of the sentence. "where are you?"
it took a few seconds for you to respond. "i'm at the school, i'm walking there now"
"are you alone?" isaac asked surprised, recalling the date with a boy from your year you had told him about just a day before.
"yes" you muttered into the phone. isaac walked out of the house and got into his car. "the date was horrible"
"i'm sorry" he said, unsure what he could answer instead, as he drove onto the street "i'll stay on the phone, okay? i'll be there in five minutes"
"i'm sorry for calling" you cried, the guilt lacing your voice "i probably woke you up, but i didn't know who else to call"
"it's alright, don't worry about it"
"no, it's not" he could hear you shake your head "i would've called stiles or scott, but they've gone on that stupid trip to who knows where trying to get this artifact"
"yeah, yeah, i know" isaac could already see the school coming closer "are you there yet? at the school i mean"
"yeah, i'm standing on the parking lot"
just a moment later, the car came to a halt and you opened the door, sliding into the seat next to him. you were wearing a black dress, one that was making you look even more beautiful than normally. your hair was flowing over your shoulders and your make up was ruined by the black mascara that was still dripping over your cheeks.
"hey" isaac said softly "you look beautiful"
you laughed, closing your eyes "i look anything but beautiful" you argued "thank you for coming, i would've walked home, but-"
he interrupted you before you could finish your sentence "-i'm glad you called"
"thank you" you said again and isaac just smiled, driving the car back onto the street. he pressed the radio, making the cd that was still in it start to play.
"paramore?" you asked susprised "i wouldn't have held you for a fan"
isaac laughed "i even went to their concert a few years ago"
"really? so did i" you gushed "which year?"
"2006"
"me too" you laughed "who would've thought"
your sadness evaporated into thin air, as you continued to listen to the music, both isaac and you singing along to it softly, making you laugh at how terrible the both of you sounded.
isaac's body felt lighter at the warm feeling of familiarity that entered his chest for the second time since the both of you had met. maybe, after all, there was a much more important reason why your date had went the way it did. maybe something had changed.
3. discovering you were soulmates all along
you were following your brother and scott into the basement of the old church, careful not to trip over the ruins that were scattered all around.
isaac was close behind you, holding your hand to stabalize your walk.
derek was already down there, calling for the four of you to hurry up, which made you roll your eyes.
"it's not like i'm a werewolf who can run down there without getting hurt"
isaac grunted at your words, squeezing your hand.
when the four of you entered the dark room, derek was already leaning against the wall, arms crossed staring at you disapprovingly.
"i hope you didn't have to wait for too long" you smiled sarcastically and derek rolled his eyes, making a displeasured sound.
"what are we even searching for?" isaac asked as he watched scott and stiles walk through the room, looking around.
"anything" scott shrugged and stiles grimaced at his best friends words.
"to put it clearly" the boy said "we don't know yet, but i'll guarantee that you will as soon as it enters your hand" he patted isaac's shoulder, before he continued searching the room.
"fine" isaac muttered and you followed him to look at an old desk that was overflown by stacks of paper. silence flew over the five of you, as you continued sorting through the papers, only interrupted by isaac or you giggling when one of you would make a whispered joke.
"woah" scott's voice bounced off the walls and made all of you turn your heads at the mccall boy.
"what the—" stiles said, joining scott's side and looking at whatever it was that scott was holding in his hand. even derek had grown suspicious, lurking over the heads of both boys, before all three, scarily at the same time, looked up at isaac and you across from them.
"what?" you laughed uncomfortably, not enjoying your friends surprised staring. "did i accidently ruin a christian artifact again?" you asked as no one answered.
"again?" isaac asked you confused, you shook your head, silently telling him that now was not the right time to talk about your past mishaps.
"what is it?" you were slowly reaching the point were slight annoyance was ready to turn into anger. "can one of your start speaking?"
"it's a picture" derek said in typical derek manner.
"wow, thank you" you smiled sarcastically, before you crossed the room, snatching the picture out of scott's hand. your blood ran cold when your eyes fell on it and your smile died.
you looked up, watching isaac, then your eyes darted immediately back to the picture. you continued doing that over and over again.
"y/n?" isaac asked, unsurely. he had hoped that you getting the picture from scott would allow him an answer to your friends weird behaviour, instead you were now acting just as weird.
he stepped closer to you and without a word, you turned the picture and held it in his direction. it was a picture of the exact church you were in right now, taken in front of the alter.
there were two people, dressed formally, no doubt husband and wife, who were both smiling into the camera. isaacs eyes darted across the picture, searching for any kind of information, maybe this was just a joke.
"marlene and ian lawson" he read "june of 1847"
"this is a joke, right?" you asked. it had to be, because both people in the picture were looking like carbon copies of you and isaac.
"i don't think so" scott muttered behind you.
isaac's eyes were still fixated on the picture. using his finger, he gently slid over the woman's dress, the white gown easily slipping over the floor of the church. while she was looking into the camera, her husband was only focused on her, his smile so precious that you could read the love from it directly.
"it has to be" you insisted "isaac"
he looked up suddenly as his name rang out from your mouth. his body felt lighter at the warm feeling of familiarity that entered his chest. his eyes were crashing into yours and your look of anger was gone, softening your features.
"i don't think it is a joke, y/n" isaac shook his head "i think it's more than that"
isaac had never felt the feeling he was experiencing now, but it almost felt like a part of his soul was connecting to yours, intertwining them like two hands that had been searching for each other for a long time.
you furrowed your brows "you think this means something, something for us?"
"i don't know" isaac shrugged "it could"
just watching you, was like flowing in warm water, the water never rose, it was always calm, safe from every storm.
your friends turned around, not quite understanding what the two of you were talking about, going back to their initial task of searching for clues, as you took the picture out of isaac's hand. you opened your bag, slowly pushing it inside.
"i will keep it for us" you assured, before you kissed his cheek, doing the same as the others and going back to work.
isaac felt something in him sink, not in a bad way. more like an anchor that was thrown into the water, making sure that the ship would not leave the harbor, making sure that he would never leave you.
#teen wolf isaac lahey#teen wolf isaac#isaac lahey#isaac lahey x reader#isaac lahey x stilinski!reader#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinski x sister!reader#scott mccall#teen wolf stiles#teen wolf#teen wolf pack x reader
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Asmodeus NSFW Yandere Alphabet
I’m in a NSFW mood today, sorry minors.
WARNINGS: yandere themes, very NSFW, mentions of non-con
A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
He likes to cuddle after sex sometimes. He is always the big spoon and loves to hump your butt a little to make himself hard again for round two. He’ll also run a bath for you to clean up when you’re both done.
B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
For you, he thinks you have a cute butt. He loves the way it jiggles when you walk and loves to run his palm over the curve of your ass cheeks. He wouldn’t say no to big boobs either. For himself, he likes everything about himself, but especially his dick. It’s the part that gets the most pleasure and he likes how it looks. The avatar of lust has the perfect cock, after all.
C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)
Asmodeus’s cum tastes delicious- like, way better than it ever should. That’s a perk of being the avatar of lust. He cums a medium amount, just enough to fill you up, but not enough to overflow. His cum is also not too thick but not too watery. Basically, he’s literally perfect.
D: Dirty Secret
Asmodeus is super sensitive on his back. He loses control over himself if you touch his back and might do something he regrets later. It’s just something about the way your soft hands touch his spine that instantly gets him hard as a rock.
E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Asmodeus is very experienced. As the avatar of lust, he’s put many women, and even some men, under his spell. Witches are his favorite, but humans are just as fun to play around with, and he’s fucked plenty of both. He hasn’t gone for any angels though, and very few demons.
F: Favorite Position
Asmodeus prefers missionary because he can look down at you while still taking all of the control. He loves seeing his reflection in your wide eyes and loves snapping his hips into yours to see your mouth open in long drawn-out moans. He doesn’t mind cowgirl either, as long as you let him take control.
G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)
Asmodeus isn’t exactly joking as much as he is teasing. You love me so much, don’t you? You’re moaning just for me, you cute little thing. You’re in the splash zone, cutie pie. He plays around with you just like a demon does with their prey. He’ll purr these things into your ear as he plays with your pretty pussy.
H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Asmodeus keeps himself well groomed, as he thinks it’s important to take care of. He doesn’t shave it all the way, just long enough to be noticeable but not a turn off. It’s the same color as his hair and doesn’t travel up to his belly button like it does for a lot of people (in fact, he barely has body hair).
I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)
Asmodeus may tease you, but he’s actually very loving and caring. He makes sure you’re soaking the sheets before he even attempts to enter you and his goal is to make you orgasm as much as possible. He’s also very romantic, sprinkling rose petals around the room and running you a hot bubble bath for when you both are done having your fun.
J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Asmodeus doesn’t masturbate. If he feels in the mood, which is often, he goes and finds someone to fuck. Of course, when he falls in love with you, you’re the only one he seeks out to satisfy his urges. If he can’t have you, he’ll just stay pent up until he can.
K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Asmodeus likes dressing up like a girl sometimes- having sex in a dress or wearing pink panties before you start your fun. He also likes stealing your own panties so he can sniff them later. Just to remember you by, of course.
L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)
Asmodeus is adventurous. While he likes doing the deed at home (because he can set it up and make it romantic), he’s not afraid to fuck in public. He especially likes the park and movie theater. It gives him a rush like nothing else.
M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
It doesn’t take much to turn Asmodeus on. If you touch his back, the effect is instant, but if you don’t, all he needs is you both alone in a room together before he’s whining for you to agree to having sex with him. He’s a needy man and the avatar of lust, so just about everything turns him on. Even nothing at all.
N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Asmodeus isn’t a sadist- he would never hurt you on purpose. He might have a tiny bit of masochism in him, but he has not an ounce of sadism. He could never whip you or degrade you or anything like that.
O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Asmodeus loves both giving and receiving, but he likes giving just a little more. He’s very experienced with eating girls out, so you’ll quickly find that he hits all the right spots with ease. For receiving, he doesn’t mind if you’re inexperienced, he’s happy to guide you into giving him a good experience.
P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)
Asmodeus is slow and sensual, holding you close as he rolls his hips, grinding deep inside of you. He thrusts lightly, not aiming for your cervix but for your g-spot. He doesn’t go hard when he finds it, just keeps a gentle rhythm. Sometimes he rubs at your clit during sex.
Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Asmodeus doesn’t do fast. He loves to draw it out, take as much time as he needs. A quickie is almost an insult to him. It feels like a quickie means throwing away all the hard work for just a lousy bit of sex. He doesn’t really mind when others do it, but it’s not for him.
R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Asmodeus is willing to try almost anything, but he’s pretty consistent when it comes to sex. He knows what works for him and what doesn’t. If you want to try something new, then great! He’ll do it as long as it doesn’t hurt you.
S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Asmodeus has basically unlimited stamina. Like an incubus, he grows stronger from sex. He likes to cum at the same time you do, but if he chose not to, he could go as long as he felt like. He loves to do multiple rounds to send you into overstimulation, but he’ll go easy on you if you ask him to.
T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Asmodeus doesn’t have any toys for himself, since he doesn’t masturbate, but he does have a vibrator he uses on you sometimes and a feather he likes to tickle your skin with. Other than that, his toy drawer is empty.
U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)
Asmodeus likes to tease quite a bit. He’ll get you to the brink of orgasm, then stop. He wants you to beg for him to make you cum and he’s good at what he does. Don’t worry though, when you give in, he’ll give you the best orgasms of your life.
V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Asmodeus is loud. He moans like a pornstar and sometimes lets out a giggle when he sees your eyes roll back in your head. He doesn’t grunt or groan, it’s definitely moaning. He just likes to show you how he feels!
W: With or without consent (Non-con or consensual?)
Asmodues prefers consent so, so much. He wants you looking into his eyes as he fucks you, not crying or looking away. However, if you reject him, and he knows you’re off limits, he may just kidnap you because he desperately needs relief and he can’t turn to masturbation or other girls.
X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)
Asmodeus is just an inch bigger than average and his girth is the same story. But his cock is so pretty and has no visible veins running down the side. It’s a pretty shade of pink and is without any blemishes. It curves a little upwards, which helps him hit your g-spot.
Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Asmodeus could have sex with you multiple times every day if he wanted, but he knows you might not be up for that. Since he doesn’t masturbate, it builds up over time until he has to get some release. Then, he’ll fuck you until you’re too tired to move.
Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Asmodeus sometimes runs a bath for the both of you, but right afterwards, it’s cuddling and sleeping on his bed. He gets a little smile on his face in his sleep and it’s actually really cute. He falls asleep either at about the same time as you or slightly after.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere alphabet#tw noncon#yandere asmodeus#obey me asmodeus#yandere obey me#obey me
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The DoL server was talking about how Kylar will comment on the PCs dick size in class when it was mentioned that theyll do it even if they havent seen it before so can I request a a scenario/drabble with a F!Crossdresser!PC and a M!Kylar breaking into the orphanage at night to check "your size" only to find out your a girl and omg they can breed you and― oh fu k you just woke up―
Warnings: AMAB Kylar (he/him); AFAB Reader (you/your); noncon; pregnancy talk
Words: 641
It's for art. That's what repeats inside Kylar's head over and over as he hovers over your sleeping form. He wouldn't do this if it weren't for art.
He'd…he'd respect your privacy. Wait for you to decide when to share your body with him on your own terms. But…This is for art! He can't go around reciting lies about you, can he? So….he has to know. He has to know now how big your penis is. If you're a shower or a grower, cut or uncut, thickness and length and the color of your head.
The taste he'd keep to himself. And how precum leaked from your tip, the thickness and smell. And, and how it felt. Yeah, he’d keep that to himself, how you felt inside him.
Not that it would get that far! Not tonight! No! He’d just, peel back your blankets and take a peek. He could control himself, he could.
Except, he can’t, not when he actually does it. Not as more and more of your skin comes into view, his own cock starting to harden. But then he’s face to face with your crotch and…you don’t have a dick.
Kylar had spent days coming to terms with it, not being able to fulfill his biggest fantasy of breeding his darling thoroughly, getting you pregnant. But it was you, you. He’d give up anything for you.
But that pretty pussy staring back at him? Just begging for his cock to fill it up. Why hide it, though? Why make him think you were- oh! You must be keeping it a secret! A surprise, just for him! That was the only explanation, really. Otherwise, you would have told him, right?
Drool pools on his tongue, cock now painfully pressed against his trousers. He has to fuck you. He has to. He’d dreamed of having his first time with you, and it wasn’t anything like this, but he has to.
“Huh?” Kylar jumps at the sound of your voice. How hadn’t he noticed you stirring awake? “Kylar? Wha-”
He doesn’t think, climbing on top of you and quickly shimmying out of his pants.
“Ky-Kylar don’t-” You try to push him off, but you can’t, limbs still sleep weak.
“It’s o-okay, love,” Kylar coos. “I w-won’t tell. Our s-secret.”
“W-wait, I don’t-”
Kylar presses his mouth to yours, cutting you off. Small, cold fingers stroke over your pussy, finding your clit and rubbing clumsy circles around it.
He should…do more. Finger you, maybe? Get you more prepared, make sure you’re wet enough for him that it doesn’t hurt you when he sinks into that warm, heavenly heat between your legs. But, the thought is a dim one, barely flickering to life in the back of his mind. It’s hard for him to think of anything but getting inside you. Especially when you’re gasping under him, the head of his cock pressing against your cunt.
You go still under him as he pushes forward, tucking his face into your neck and whining into the skin as you take him in. Good. You feel so, so good. Better than he’d ever imagined. Of course, back then he’d fantasized about sliding into your ass, fisting your prick. If he’d known you had a pussy-
“Stop,” you wheeze, “p-please. Stop.”
Kylar stills, gears turning sluggishly in his head. Stop? Why would he ever stop? Was he hurting you? But, it felt good. He’d make sure it felt good for you, too. “D-don’t worry love,” Kylar says, bottoming out. “I’ll t-take, ah, care of y-you.”
He starts up a frantic pace, fingers finding their way back to your clit. He thinks it works, your whimpers quieting, pussy hungrily sucking in his cock. If there are tears on your face, it must be from pleasure. Why would you be crying at a time like this?
His hot tongue traces the salty streaks up your cheeks, voice hauntingly soft as he speaks. “I-I’ll take care of y-you. G-get you pregnant and, ah, you’ll n-never ha-have to leave the h-house. Just us. To-together. Forever.”
You cry harder, sobbing as Kylar spends himself inside you. Tears of joy, he knows. Because you love him. You love him and want to be with him and carry his child. It's the only reason he can think of why you’d react like this, so it must be right.
“L-love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
And your silence means you love him back.
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:D
MADE SOME THINGSSS
if you want to use them as actual cake topper images or other decoration, you have my full permission to! that's why i made them! (i'd love if you tagged or messaged me if you do!)
if you do want to use these for cakes, i also made several other versions and have notes under the cut
____
OKAY SO FIRST OFF I'M NOT AN EXPERT ON PRINTING STUFF. the (very) short version is, purples and pinks don't show up well in the most common printing method, and that "most common printing method" is used in edible printing, like what's used for cupcakes and cakes
(most printing uses a color model called "CMYK," if you want to look it up)
so!! maybe you can use the images above the cut and it'll be fine, or maybe you need to give the printers these versions. these colors were picked because it lets the images turn out like the ones above the cut, NOT how they're shown here:
i'll find out if giving the printers either version works or what in a few months, and i'll update this section then (or sooner if someone fills me in), since i'm planning on getting myself a Lucifer ducky cake for my birthday :3
i'm including versions with circles because many cake designs are circular -- including the one Lucifer used in-show lol and what i plan to print -- and the circle is placed relative to where i intended the image to crop and how i intended its composition. (if you'd like the circle to be placed a bit different, you can do so using the square version)
i included a bunch of variations where Lucifer's not holding anything, if you want to add a number for someone's age for a birthday cake or your own object or some phrase or whatever you please
again, idk how printing works, so i might swap these out for the more vibrant versions depending on what i eventually learn. i'm just prioritizing these less bright versions basically so everyone remembers these are the intended / expected colors
AND A LAST TOTALLY UNRELATED NOTE:
if anyone wants to take a crack at making the image as show-accurate as possible, BE MY GUEST. SHORT VERSION IS, I DID A GOOF WHEN TAKING THE BASE IMAGE OUT OF PERSPECTIVE, SO IT CAN'T BE CROPPED TO LOOK HOW IT DOES ON THE CAKE LUCIFER CANONICALLY USES, WHAT WITH LUCIFER'S HAT AND ALASTOR'S EARS GETTING CROPPED OUT
(i wanted to make a "complete Lucifer hat and complete Alastor" version as well as a cropped version for the pedants [affectionate] out there. but the second version didn't work out when the time came 😔)
it'll probably take some artist's license to get everything to fit in a perfect circle, but here's two versions where i actually did the first step more correctly, using my program's "mesh transform" to get it circular
in the first image, Lucifer is more accurate, and Alastor is more accurate in the second, in case anyone wants to use these (no obligation; you can do your own thing if you'd prefer).
the mesh is still visible in the second image because i hadn't intended to keep the screenshot -- i just thought the mesh looked wild, so i screenshotted, but it was a lucky save since Alastor looks decent there. (it might also be preferable if you use a mesh with more points than in that screenshot)
again, some artist's license will likely be required to get them both looking good. have fun with it! i might try this project again in the future, but for now i'm done lol. (it'll probably be at least a few months or a few years if i do try again, and no guarantee that i will)
#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#hazbin lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar#nooooot really wanting to put the 'rexan's art' tag on here since it's almost all traced#and i'm such a small artist i doubt anyone will try and find this through that tag#but hey! if i'm wrong please do tell me. i'll be flattered lol#and -BIIIIIG EXHALE- OH MY GOOOOOOSH THIS PROJECT WAS 90% DONE FOR MAYBE WEEKS. IT WAS SO DIFFICULT TO GET MYSELF TO FINISH AAAAAAAAAAAAAA#BUT NOW IT'S /DOOOONE/#ENJOY#i really want to put 'birthday' and related tags on here but i don't want to jumpscare anyone who's#not aware of Hazbin Hotel with a decapitated cartoon character LOL#...OKAY YEAH AND COMBINE THAT SENTIMENT WITH THE MANY 'LUCIFER' TAGS SFJKSKSKSKSKKS
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Hungry Beginnings
Summary: Y is watching a cooking show when his belly starts to rumble. This seems to excite him, and D begins to notice...
Notes: Hey everyone! This is a RP I did with someone, who wishes to remain anonymous, but was happy to share with you all our story! Hope you enjoy!
Tags: hunger kink, hand jobs, kink discovery, stomach growling, belly rubs, M/M
Read on AO3
Y sat on the couch next to D as he watched the show playing on their TV. It was some cooking show D had been into lately, and at first he hadn't been particularly interested, but as the hours passed he found himself more and more enticed by the dishes they were making. He absentmindedly picked at the chipped black nail polish on his right thumb as he stared at a chef piling a plate high with pasta.
D, arm wrapped around Y's shoulder, felt a smile spread across his face as he watched his boyfriend become enticed with the show in front of them. He couldn't deny that the food looked delicious, and it had been a few hours since breakfast. Anyone would be taken in by such lovely looking pasta in a situation like that. "Careful you don't ruin your nails," D said, pointing a finger at Y's hand.
"Hm?" Y said absentmindedly. Eventually he glanced at his fingers and nodded before quickly turning back to the show. "Right." A peek of tongue slipped over his lips at the sight of the food and he tasted the metal of his lip ring.
The taste of it somehow made it worse, like there was something waiting for his tongue to taste, and his stomach suddenly rumbled quietly, sending color into his face immediately.
Curiously, D raised their brow. That sound definitely didn't come from the show; it sounded too close. Even if it did, why would it make Y blush like that? Unless...
"Did...you just fart?" D asked, arguably with less shame than he should have had.
Y laughed and shook his head, his face still a bit bright. "No it was my fuckin--" and just then his stomach growled again, rumbling loud enough to be properly heard this time. And felt actually; Y felt the sound curling through his abdomen, making his eyes go a little half-lidded, until it stopped and suddenly he felt bewildered, not entirely sure why he reacted in such a way. "...stomach," he finished.
D's eyes widened, and immediately slid down to Y's stomach. For someone who was never that large, Y was no stranger to a loud stomach; D could testify that from the past few dates they've been on. Though despite how hungry he was on those dates, he had never had such a...strong reaction before.
"Whoa..." sounded D, raising a finger to scratch the area around his nose ring. "You feeling okay, dude?"
"Oh yeah I'm fine just... Hungry," he says. Oddly just saying he's hungry seems to have an effect on him too, the color spreading to his ears. His face doesn't really look sheepish anymore, it's... Something else. His stomach gurgles again as more food is displayed on the screen, and he swallows.
D follow's Y's gaze and notices all the food on the screen. Dishes from steak to broth, even pies here and there; all of it looks delectable. Then a thought hits him, and it's enough to make him breathe a small laugh out of his nose. He turns to Y again. "Are you shy about being hungry? Dude, I've heard your stomach growl before, I swear it's not weird."
"No I'm not shy I just--" His stomach suddenly moans again and his head falls back slightly, eyes slipping shut. Fuck, why does this feel good? The way it's shifting his middle, the sound--it's nicer than Y ever realized. "J-Just didn't notice," he mutters, slightly breathlessly.
The motion, the way Y's eyes delicately close, his breathy voice...it's enough to give D a sinking feeling in his own stomach, the kind that doesn't hurt but rather fills you with excitement. Even he feels a warmth spread across his cheeks. "Wow, um...I-I didn't realize that this show would get you so good," he chuckles awkwardly. He almost let slip an offer to give Y a hand job, but decided against it.
"Not sure it's the show, love," Y says with a small laugh. "My stomach... Feels really good for some reason. Being hungry. Not sure what the hell's goin' on to be honest." He does know for some reason that every time his stomach rumbles he seems to be getting harder. It won't be long before it's noticeable.
"Oh damn, it's your stomach that's turning you on?" D asks, cheeks still glowing but now filled with curiosity. This is so much more interesting than what's happening on TV. He even finds himself shifting over so he can get a closer look at Y's belly, gently placing a hand on top of it. "That's so weird...I mean, I've heard of dudes using vibrators to get off but using your own gut? That's kinda useful, huh?"
Y leans into D's touch, his stomach rumbling loudly under D's hand. There's a fluttering deep in his chest and suddenly he's significantly harder than he was before.
That's when he notices it. The just-about noticeable tent pitching in Y's pants. D can't deny the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat as he watches it grow and feels the rumbling in Y's stomach start to settle, nor can he deny the sudden switch up in his brain going from youthfully curious to...something a little more flirtatious.
"Maybe a little more than just useful..." he sing-songs, allowing his fingers to rub slow circles around Y's stomach. "How do you feel, babe?"
"I uh..." Y seems to have trouble answering as D begins to rub his stomach, the hunger increasing as he does so. "Good. Good I think just--just keep doing that. Fuck I'm starving..."
Something about the way he says that last part sends a chill up D's spine, and he starts rubbing faster than he intended. He bites his lower lip. "Damn, dude, I've seen you act adorable in bed before but this is something else...you look so dreamy..."
The sound from the TV draws his eyes again, and he notices that there's been a new round of food brought out. All of it looks just as good as the last, steam leaving the plates and fat glistening on every surface...if D watches any longer, even his stomach will start growling.
Y catches sight of that food and immediately his stomach starts grumbling against D's hand, incessantly. Moaning and begging for what's right in front of his eyes, desperate for anything to fill it. D can feel it shift and clench under his fingers, starved under his hand and Y squirms a bit, leaning more into his boyfriend's touch. "God, D, I'm so hungry..."
The littlest bit of sympathy fills D's chest, and he resumes the rubbing but is sure to be gentle this time. The sight of Y's red face makes his legs clench.
"I know babe, I know-" he softly kisses Y's cheek. "Your poor tummy's so loud...what does it feel like? When it growls?"
"It feels fuckin... Great, for some reason. That's weird as hell. Tight and pinched, and then it growls and suddenly feels better and worse at the same time. More empty, but that feels good too..."
"Huh..." D lets his eyes float to Y's stomach again, watching as it rises and falls with Y's breathing. "So it's like when you're usually hungry but amped up to eleven...damn, that honestly sounds pretty good."
Curiously, D looks down at his own stomach. It hasn't made any noise since he and Y started watching the show. A part of him wonders what it would feel like to be as hungry as Y is right now...
"Heh, guess it makes sense, haven't eaten all day really," Y mumbles. "Seeing at that food... I'm starved. And fucking horny, god." His stomach moans with hunger again, and he moans with it, arching his back into D's palm.
D's breath catches in his throat. Even with Y's stomach growling as loud as it is, it doesn't compare to his desperate moaning. He's heard it so many times before, and yet now is when D feels his pants grow the tightest. "Fuck dude, you're killing me...do you want me to touch you, or something? You look so pent up..."
"Fuck at this point if you don't touch me I might die or something--"
D chuckles at that, and takes a deep breath as he lets his hand slide down Y's stomach and closer to his crotch. "Tell me if this gets weird, okay? I've never...masturbated someone over their own stomach before, so I don't know the whole schtick."
"This is completely new to me too, so I guess we're learning together," he says laughing a little breathlessly. When D touches him he immediately feels the pleasure increase tenfold, and he moans, his stomach growling even more. It's practically rippling D's hand, shaking it as he touches Y.
D's breath starts to quicken, his own hips jutting at the sight. He's never seen a stomach ripple before; he only thought that was a thing in cartoons. Seeing it happen in real life, accompanied by the sounds, and Y's face melting in pure ecstasy and pleasure, it makes him feel hot inside, like his chest could burst at any minute. "Fuck, babe, you sound so hungry. Anymore and I think you're gonna-"
He's cut off by the sudden jolt of Y's hips, and the near-whine that escapes his lips as the red in his cheeks flushes a brand new shade of red. D's hand feels warm. The entire room feels warm.
Y shudders as he finishes, slumping against the couch a bit as his stomach give a few smaller whines.
"Whoa..." D utters, practically dumbfounded. He removes his hand from Y's pants and immediately reaches for a tissue to wipe it with. "That was sooner than I expected. N-not that you're fast, or anything! I mean that...I didn't realize it felt that good for you..."
"Heh, sorry. I didn't know either. I can help you here in a second too, don't think I didn't notice that," Y says, glancing at D's crotch. "Just give me a second to get my fuckin... Brain in order again."
D bobs his shoulders in a small laugh, tossing the tissue in the trashcan. "Hey man, if you wanna rest I can take care of it myself. Unless..."
His eyes wander to the TV again, spotting a new round of food brought to the tables and still looking as good as ever. He feels his mouth turn upwards in a smirk as his own stomach lets out a quiet rumble.
"...you wanna experiment a little?"
THE END
#hunger#hunger kink#belly kink#tummy kink#stomach growling#hunger growls#hungry tummy#hunger roleplay#roleplay logs#starvation kink#stomach kink#stomach noises#stomach gurgling#tummy#soft tummy#good boy#tummies#hunger fic
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𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
„𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃”
: ̗̀➛ GENERAL CONTENT!!!
: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, possible gore, blood, death (?). not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.
: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.
: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 1.40K
* dark mode recommended
* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.
𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; imma switch it up a lil. i been going through writers block cuz i can barely think of plots for myself. sum scary cuz why not??
REBLOG TO SUPPORT MEEEEE AND IF YOU WANT MORE :D
what a night. an incredible amount of men and women died this particular night. interesting. why? how? who would’ve done such a thing? a pure red dagger cut through the flesh of these people. now, these cuts weren’t quite deep at first…but they began to get more deep and the deaths were more brutal than the last.
bleeding through the mask, a red substance peered out of the fabric of the eyeholes. a 5’11 figure, wearing an all black robe looked down at their victim. they bend down before stabbing into their victim repeatedly.
the deed was done. “that was easy…” they thought. they would remove the mask to give themself some air. they took a breath. a pair of dead eyes fluttered, adjusting to the dark room that was lit with dim lights. eyes narrowed, staring at the blood that was splattered across the floor and the wall before a sinister smile stretched across their lips.
a beautiful night it was…for him, that is.
“that’s so sad…all those poor people.” your mother said as she looked at the tv, explaining the incidents. you sucked on your bottom lip, feeling the unsettling energy kick into your system. finding all those bodies around the shibuya station. you heard a name being tossed around called the “shibuya slasher”.
it felt like a horror movie. hearing this made your stomach turn. your mother placed your dinner down in front of you and smiled softly. “you eat good, okay? and don’t waste it. put it in the refrigerator or the microwave if you don’t want it.”
you nod at your mother’s simple request and begin to eat after thanking her. you turn the channel to something more happy. you didn’t wanna be depressed and scared while you ate your favorite meal.
later that evening, you make your mother aware that you would be hanging out with your boyfriend for a couple hours. though, she agreed that this was fine, she’d warn you about the shibuya slasher one final time. you assure her that you’d be fine and you leave in a hurry.
two twintails bounced lightly as the owner’s head turned to look at you. their lips stretched into a smile as you entered the car.
“hey,” the deep voice says, sounding slightly excited at the sight of you. it was definitely a change compared to how he usually sounded. his voice was low adverb and it would catch you off guard if you never heard it or if the room was filled with silence and he began to speak.
“hi, cho!” you beam at the male, leaning over to kiss his cheek, to which his pale cheeks flushed a reddish color.
“did you hear the news? that slasher case is…interesting.” choso queries as he begins to drive away from your home, on the way to your next destination, wherever it may be. you sigh and nod, not feeling up to talk about the case. you didn’t like it. it made you sick actually.
“yes, i heard,” you reply, “but it’s…not something i wanna talk about now. we should just enjoy our time together…and maybe do our thing.” a smirk is plastered onto your face and choso has that usual dull expression on his face but he nods.
“very well…”
the two of you spent your evening at a fair, playing the games, eating…even though choso wasn’t really eating. he was just enjoying his time with you. before the night was over, the male had gone do the bathroom, washing the blood from his hands after he had finished another deed. just the sight of seeing you talking to another man drove him up the wall.
it was a bit hard for him to kill in a social setting like this but his body reacted before he could even think. choso came back to you and took your hand and led you back to you car. as you sat in the passenger seat, you noticed a small red stain on his neck. it looked fresh too.
“um…choso, you got something red on your neck.” you spoke up. you wanted to touch it but you didn’t want to distract choso from driving either.
“nothing.” he answered bluntly.
as the weeks passed on, the shibuya slasher was still on their killing spree. your mother would drill it into your brain to watch your surroundings and be careful to not get kidnapped or anything. as annoying as you thought it was, you know your mother was just looking out for you…so of course you take her advice.
out of curiosity, you and a male friend of yours make your way to shibuya station. because it was a bit late at night, the station was empty. you and your friend would have conversations about anything you could possibly think of. completely ignoring the fact that a killer would be nearby.
this is where the murders took place, after all…
amongst your talking between the two of you, there was a sound. it sounded like footsteps and something dragging. you were pretty sure no one was here…maybe you just assumed and didn’t think that maybe some janitors would be here. even the night security guards would probably be here….but there was no one.
your friend wanders off to go check the sound and tells you to wait…but your anxiety was starting to kick in and you didn’t wanna be left alone in a station where you could get kidnapped or murdered. you and your friend go towards the sound, you trailing behind because you were that nervous.
the two of you tread lightly and slowly as if you were attempting to sneak around and locate the noise and confront the person…if there is one. but that’s when you saw it…such speed and power. you saw nothing like it….but you did. it was familiar. that red arrow piercing through the flesh and the skull and eventually the brain, drilling a hole into its victims.
you scream and jump back when you see a 5’11 figure wearing a ghostface mask and a black robe, holding a pure red blade. there was a crimson substance staining the mask…but you were guilty. you couldn’t be scared when you were guilty of a killing yourself.
staring down at the body beneath you, you suddenly feel your tense body relax. blood travels over to the drain and you glance up at the figure in front of you who had been in the middle of removing their mask. revealing their true face.
in front of you was a pale face with blood streaming down its nose and cheeks. even on the side of the owner’s head. you also noticed a little bit of blood coming from their ear but it didn’t concern you as much as their dead eyes that had black rings around them and their brown hair sticking to their face.
“there you are, princess,” choso smirked at you, lifting his bloodstained glove to place under your chin, staining your soft brown skin. his eyes traveled down to your outfit.
“did you wear this for me?”
you put your hands around his arm gently and looked up at him. the two of you were smiling at each other as if death was your favorite thing to bond over. well, the both of you had the same game. killing for each other. that was the goal.
“i do everything for you.” you reply. this only made choso’s existing smile grow. it was sinister but there was also something about it that you liked. you couldn’t place a finger on it.
“good girl…”
despite the blood the was covering the both of you, choso smashed his lips against yours, biting and sucking on your lip whenever he got the chance to. you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, making you moan in between the kiss.
he pulled away from you and took a glance down at his mess, then at you. “did i overdo it?”
any normal person would tell him yes but you were obviously just as unhinged as he was. you shake your head no as your answer.
“no…you didn’t do anything wrong.” you answered. “you just wanted to keep me safe, right?”
“that’s right. i just wanted to keep you safe.” choso dropped the mask down and pushed a lot of pressure against his blade, making it shatter.
“and nobody will ever get near you again.”
𝐄𝐍𝐃.
⋆。࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚
#jujutsu kaisen#𝐾𝑂𝑇𝐴 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑆 書く#anime#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso kamo#choso x black!reader#jjk choso#choso x reader#yandere#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk geto#jjk gojo#jujutsu geto#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#horror#thriller
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I just found your blog and I am LOVING the Wukong content. I was hoping to request some smut headcanons (maybe alphabet hcs- if you feel up to it). I completely understand ty! <333
NSFW Alphabet ; Sun Wukong
Please do not click the ‘keep reading’ option if you are under the age of 18. Adults only, please! :)
Welcome to my page! I’m ecstatic that you’re enjoying what I’m providing <3 Doing alphabet headcanons are actually some of my favorites!
Mainly because it helps me with future pieces of writing (smut ofc) — like a cheat sheet almost!
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He loves to hold you in general, so after a session of utter passion? It’s tripled. He’ll sometimes want to keep his cock buried in you overnight if you’re up for it and continue from where you two left off the next morning.
He’s not too big on cleaning himself personally after sex (like the absolute gremlin he is), but he’ll begrudgingly set a warm bath for you if that’s what you want! You’ve explained UTI’s and yeast infections to him, which is why he no longer complains about keeping his semen inside you as long as he can.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He loves his tail. I mean, it’s like a third hand! Another tool to balance himself, grab things, and especially bring you to him when he’s needy.
He personally loves your ears. They’re so cute and small compared to his! Sometimes you’ll catch him fiddling with your earlobes. He also enjoys the noises you make when he nibbles on them.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
It turns him on extremely seeing you covered in his cum— legs spread, ever so slightly trembling as you’re leaking with his semen, your face twisted into an expression of pure bliss. It’s enough to get him riled up all over again.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Has a Owner/Property kink that even to this day hasn’t publicly told you about. You found out yourself after a certain rigorous handjob when he basically begged you to let him cum, ending his plead with master.
Praise kink too, but he’s a bit more open with that.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
At first he may seem clumsy, but he’s simply learning what makes your body tick. After maybe 3-4 sessions expect him to have your anatomy and personal pleasures memorized to the tea. Every whimper, moan— it’s all a sign to let him know that he should keep the ministrations going.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
The mating press.
His main interest is the deeper penetration aspect of the position. He also loves the look of your helpless face every time he presses into you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Pretty goofy! But Wukong knows when to switch the mood to make it better for you both. One minute he’ll be joking to you about a show playing in the background and the next will be eating you out like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
This man is 100% a hobo. Although being filled with body hair already (cause, y’know. Monkey?) he has a pretty clean happy trail which matches the ash orange color of his mane!
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He won’t have sex with you unless there’s at least some sort of feelings in the mix. Whether they’re unspoken or not it’s something that’s always there. He’s not there just to fuck, he wants to make love.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Doesn’t masturbate often. He’d have to really be in the mood, but even still— he has trouble concentrating when it’s only imagination. If he ever does though, you’d be the only thing on his mind. Maybe a picture, or a voicemail would do.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding. It’s instinctual for him to have reproductive urges; The idea of stuffing you full of his cum to be the future carrier of his children is quite appealing to the simian.
Marking. He likes both you and everyone else to know who you belong to. Whether it be carrying your scent with him— or the many bites littered around your body. He thinks it’s like taking a park of him with you.
Cockwarming. While it can be seen as torture for both parties, he adores the way you slowly break down above him. A simple shift of the hips enough to make such deliciously crude noises escape from those pretty lips. It makes sex that much more gratifying if there’s at least a bit of a wait.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He’s a bit more comfortable if you guys have some type of privacy, considering the entirety of Flower Fruit Mountain is littered with primates. So a bedroom or bathroom would do.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Being the big spoon. While it may start as sweet and lighthearted before you know it he’ll be slowly pressing his clothed erection into you, huffing softly and asking if you’re up for a round or two.
Your own moans. He’ll work hard as hell if it means by the end of the night you’re screaming his name, begging for more— to go even harder.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Degradation/Humiliation.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Prefers to definitely give. He finds his own pleasure in yours!
Let’s just say he knows how to use his tongue quite well. This can go back to E; He knows what you need to reach your climax and he’s more than happy to give it to you.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Slow and rough. Wukong wants to feel your walls clenching every single time he’s just about to pull out, only to thrust back in without a care in the world.
As his peak eventually reaches though— he will often try to chase it with a faster, sloppier pace. ONLY if he knows you’re both close.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
While he does like to take his time with you, quickies are a pretty common occurrence when you’re with Wukong. In a certain spot with few wandering eyes? He’ll lift you up against the wall and pound into you.
In a certain position while your cleaning? On the counter you go. Just sucks that you have to pick up even more of a mess after.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Not too fancied on the idea of trying something new unless he has somewhat of an idea of what’s gonna go down. He doesn’t want to be left in the dark, and communication is especially key for this monkey.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
His stamina is as big as his ego. This man could go fucking you a whole night if it meant filling you up to the brim.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn’t have any toys, and isn’t too fond of buying any simply because he doesn’t know where? Like???
If you have your own, though, he’d be more than happy to hear how to use them and spice up your tango just a bit more.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Humiliation really isn’t his game, but he loves to mention how destroyed you look under him— asking you to tell him just what you want him to do while he’s hovered over you.
It just gives him a bit of pride to know that he can make you into such a mess. You lustful deviant you!
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
I don’t think he’d be necessarily loud. The trembling quiver of his voice as he breathes out your name— the occasional curse.
He’d have to be pretty wound up in order to raise that voice of his. It’s not necessarily impossible! The stroke of his tail is a pretty quick way to get an unprepared whore moan out of him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
It’s like he’s constantly in the honeymoon phase when he’s with you. Pet names like hun, sweetie, peaches, schnookums even. His corniness is sickeningly addictive.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Sleeper build. He doesn’t look necessarily ripped at first glance with all those robes but a good feel of those thighs or biceps shows that even thousands of years later, he’s in great shape.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High, very high. Maybe not at first; jumping straight into sex after building a relationship just isn’t him. One taste of that pie, however, and suddenly he can’t seem to get enough of you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
He doesn’t fall asleep immediately after sex. It’s certainly tempting, but he’d much more prefer taking care of you, taking in the moment and making sure you’re okay.
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Maneskin has been my go-to for music while I’m writing, especially spicier prompts/ideas I have yet to publish ;D
Definitely give their new album a listen if you’re interested!
#lego monkie kid#lmk#monkie kid#sun wukong#lmk x reader#sun wukong x reader#wukong x reader#lmk wukong x reader#lego monkie kid sun wukong#I am spitting these requests out like#there’s no tomorrow man woah#this is probs gonna be my last#at least until I finish the first chapter of#my other fic#anyways#EEE MY GREMLIN MONKEY HUSBAND
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You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel
Try to make room in your skull, but it’s full of them
All of the things that you think and then think about thinking
I know it’s hard, but they're not who you are
They're white noise
— White Noise, Will Wood —
Welcome one and all to "Mashing Two Interests Like Playdough", the first episode is Puppet History x Will Wood, specifically the Substitute x White Noise 'cause holy moly. It fits him so well. Omg.
I had so much fun creating this poster! I'm really proud of how the poses and the rendering turned out even though both gave me a rough time at first </3 I actually had an earlier version of this poster, but I scrapped it because it wasn't doing it for me ngl :,D I'm glad I did though!
Anyways if you'd like to know more about why I think this song fits the Substitute, you can read my interpretation of the lyrics and how they can relate to him below the "Read More" button. You can also find the glitchless + filterless version of the poster there.
Note: A lot of this is speculation on my part, and you don't need to conform to this reading. This is just how I perceive him.
They paint the walls with colors that you're not meant to notice
They fill the halls with tunes you can't get into your head
Let's establish the obvious: The Substitute can't feel. The extent of his unfeelingness is unknown, but what is known is that he can't taste and can't have the sensation of touch. This may lead to him being isolated due to his inability to relate to experiences both humans and his fellow puppets seem to have, particularly the experiences of the one he is based on.
Yeah, it sorta sounds like a retro top-40 but wrong
You're not meant to sing along
It isn't that kind of song
It's white noise
Despite his unfeelingness, he still wants to have the experiences others have. After all, he literally almost killed someone just to have that chance, but his plan is not entirely well-thoughout. How was he going to dispose Ryan's body without getting caught? How was he going to sew the skin onto himself and dispose the rest of it? What was he going to do after he finally what he asked for?
In a way, he was doomed to fail. He was never meant to gain sentience anyway, let alone have the desire to feel like his counterpart. His existence is a complete accident. Now he has to deal with the consequences of actions he never even had a hand in doing.
But if you listen closely I swear, to God I swear
You can hear the ocean if you hold it up to your ear
This lyric directly inspired the pose of the Substitute listening to the conch shell. He has memories of some of the most wonderful sensations on Earth yet he can't connect with any of them. Perhaps when no one was looking, he tries to recreate some of them in a desperate attempt to find a scrap of semblance of feeling and gets increasingly frustrated with his inability to understand them.
Is it any wonder that he would do anything to regain that scrap of enjoyment? To end his torturous experience by any means necessary?
Its personality's a lack of identity
The entire second verse in general speaks about the meaningless of art and how people try to give it meaning anyway. The Substitute's only purpose was to replace the Professor either to console a dead mass or to continue the show. Now that the Professor is back... What can he do?
Moreover, he's also never allowed to have an identity of his own. Since he's meant to be a perfect copy of someone else, especially someone who's presumed to be dead, he can never really deviate from that role because it would break the illusion the puppets created to cope with their grief. No matter what his desires are, he can never really explore any of them because no one is allowing him to do so.
Also, the way the orchestra swells during this part kinda calls back to theatrical music for me. I feel like the Substitute would enjoy performace arts. His bombastic musical number implies he had a flair for the dramatics, and despite his lack of feeling, his expression of his ambitions is quite dramatic.
You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel
This can relate to how the Subtitute is forced to relive the memories of the Professor despite not being able to experience the emotions connected with them. In a way, he has to so that he could remind himself of his motivations. Remembering the joy the Professor got through feeling would keep him going on this path in the hopes that some day, he could feel that joy too.
I know it's hard
But they're not who you are
They're white noise
This line can be taken in two ways. One is based on the speculated official meaning of the outro which is centered on intrusive thoughts. No doubt the Substitute deals with homicidal thoughts, but I wonder if he truly believes in them. Does he genuinely enjoy indulge in them, or does he act on them because it's all that he knows? For all the talk about him having the Professor's memories, at the end of the day, he was crudely coded for one simple purpose. His thoughts are very simplistic—as seen with how quickly he jumps to murder as the most logical solution for his problem—and I wonder if he was given a chance to grow beyond his purpose, he could've reliazed that homocide was not the right course of action.
The other way, which is likely more relevant, relates back to the Substitute being intrinsically tied to the Professor. His thoughts, his memories and his actions are all in a way influenced by the Professor. But it didn't have to be this way. As unlikely as it is, he could've had a life where he discovered his own interests and his own personality outside of being "the evil Professor". If he had gotten to learn more about the world on his own, if he had been able to act not as the Professor but as himself, he would've been able to develop more and find that joy he was missing. He could've had a life.
Unfortunately, he was never given that chance, and it is unlikely that he ever will be.
#i mayhaps have put a little too much thought into a character#I know at the end of the day he's just a villain for the sake of being a villain#but DAMN IT sometimes it's fun to add layers to a character#this is what shane would've wanted#the substitute#the professor#puppet history#watcher entertainment#watcher fanart#we are watcher#will wood#white noise#in case i make it#art#digital art#artists on tumblr#fanart#chris p fried art#chris p fried rambles#tw eyestrain#tw noose#chromatic abberation#bright colours
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Haiii :3 can I request minnie 6, 13, 31 and 43
Moonstruck.
sypnosis stargazing under the moonlight with Minnie!! genre fluff, comfort warnings established relationship, kissing scenarios no 6. stargazing and no 13. sharing earphones dialogues no 31. "Do you think we're in love in every universe?" and no 43. "I love your eyes" word count 0.8k
A/n: haii anonn ty for requestingg :D , oh how I love Minnie's song Escape and Enhypen's Moonstruck inspired me too. I guess those 2 songs I find comfort in remind me of Minnie the mostt :)). Enjoyy ^^
It was the full moon tonight. The glimmering shrine of stars matched the colors of the moonlight as the wind breezed through the trees, making the night fresh and chill. Minnie and you have wanted to do this for a while now, but you just waited for the right moment. A relaxing night, just the two of you, stargazing.
As Minnie and you walked outside towards the stairs to get to the rooftop of your apartment, you exchanged a few grinning smiles as you held your phone and a blanket while Minnie held 1 large pillow and some snacks.
“Oh, It’s windy here.” you exclaim, scanning the area as you walk to the center of the rooftop. Minnie followed you as she hummed a “mhm” in response. You placed the gray blanket on the ground and sat down, leaving space for her. Minnie threw the pack of chips down next to you, the bag rustled. Looking up at her to see why she’s being quiet you see her standing and looking up at the sky, mesmerized by the moonlight and the stars shining above. “It's so peaceful tonight.” she murmurs while slowly sitting down next to you, her eyes meeting yours with a gentle grin. As you stared at her hypnotizing eyes, you couldn’t not grin softly back at her too. “Yeah.” whispering you rest your head on Minnie’s shoulder, her head falling onto yours immediately.
Minnie took a pair of earphones and plugged them in her phone as she scrolled down your playlist to find a song for this mood. She offered you the left earbud as she put the right one in her ear. You gently accepted it and took it, curiosity filling your mind wondering which song she chose. Moonstruck by Enhypen.
For a split second, the world around you seemed to fade away into the night. The comforting song blended with the soft breeze of the wind, creating the perfect vibe to stargaze. Minnie shifted slightly, her head still resting on yours, and you could feel her warmth beside you. The moment was quiet but intimate enough, just the two of you under the stars.
After a few minutes of listening to the music, Minnie’s voice broke the silence, quiet and soft. "Do you think..." she paused for a second, shifting her eyes from the stars to your eyes, "...do you think we’re in love in every universe?"
The question caught you off guard. You looked up, her eyes wanting to know your answer, a soft but lost expression on your face. It was a question that made your heart skip a beat, a question that felt so big for a simple answer.
"I…," you finally stutter out, your voice quiet. “I like to think about that too.” Leaning your head against her shoulder again your gaze shifts onto the moon. “Only the moon knows if we are.” your answer sounded very poetic though very sweet in Minnie’s opinion. “I feel like…we most probably are?” looking down you finish your answer.
Minnie’s lips curved into a small, cheeky smile as she tilted her head slightly to lean on your head again. Her eyes were shining, whether from the reflection of the moon or something deeper, you couldn’t tell. After a few moments of comfortable silence, she turned to face you more fully, gently lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from your face.
Her gaze was filled with admiration. Pure love and admiration. Minnie had always thought you were her soulmate, but not just as a word but she viewed you as an actual 2nd half of her. She loved your unusual answers to silly questions and how you viewed the world. With every second she spent with you, she was happy.
“I love your eyes,” she whispered out of full affection. Her fingers held onto your cheek for a moment longer than necessary, her thumb gently brushing against your skin. “They always look like they’re filled with stars.”
Her words made your heart flutter, and for a moment, the world felt impossibly small, as if it was just the two of you, with nothing else but the stars and the moon to bear witness. You smiled softly, feeling a warmth that spread from your chest to every part of you. "That’s cause you’re the only star for me." you say, letting out a cheeky pick up line, but you meant every word. Minnie let out a quiet laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she leaned in closer, her presence comforting and familiar.
For a moment, everything else faded away once again as she pressed her soft plump lips on yours. Leaning into her touch, your love shines tonight just like the stars above you. Her comforting presence was all you needed, especially at this moment.
Only the moon knows how much you truly meant to each other and that makes you lovers in every universe.
#asraxfile#gidle#gidle x reader#gidle x fem reader#minnie x fem!reader#gidle minnie#minnie x reader#kpop imagines#gidle imagines#gidle fluff#writing#*• asra prompt list works •*
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I Won’t Let You Sink
Chapter 2
(Previous Chapter)
Word Count: 6.1k
Pairing: Finnick X Fem!OC
Warnings: slight self harm, angst, fluff kinda, protective Finnick, the Capitol sells them unfortunately, hurt/comfort, pre-canon, young Finnick and Silk, Silk AND Finnick pov, Silk doesn’t understand that’s she’s crushing on Finnick,
Summary: Silk is back a the Capitol and she’s in for a rough night! She’s real stressed and Finnick tries to comfort her teehee.
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~ Silk ~
Only a few weeks have passed and I find myself back at the Capitol. It feels too soon. Like the days sped up so I couldn’t even try to feel the happiness I found back at home. I only was given a few days before any thought of peace was stripped away from my arms.
I feel greatly exposed while standing on the small platform in the middle of a room filled with mirrors. Everyone who’s here to help make me “beautiful” is just staring at me. I wish I could sink through the floor.
My stylist, Bijou, is filled with much more excitement than I am as she rips the last wax strip off my leg. I purse my lips at the pain.
“Last one! Now you’re all silky smooth. Just like your name!” She smiles widely and laughs at her unoriginal pun. I try to smile back at her but I can only muster up a slight twitch of my lips. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Now, you’re going to get your makeup and hair done, then you can just step into your dress! Oh, you’re going to love it! I worked extra hard on this one. I have to make you even more eye catching.”
Bijou has always been very kind just maybe a bit oblivious. She probably doesn’t even know why I’m supposed to stand out more than usual tonight. I wonder if she’d be sick to her stomach like I am if she knew what was happening. But maybe she does know, and that makes it even more gut wrenching.
She continues her rambling while the makeup teams tries to bring back the life drained from my face.
“You know, I’ve always liked District 8. I mean, yes it is very dreary, but your people created the beautiful fabric used to make the dress! And the clothes you all wear look so bright and colorful. It’s such a shame the place has to look so drab.” Her words actually cause me to let out a small laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone speak nicely about 8, especially in the Capitol.
“Thank you, Bijou. That’s very kind.” She smiles widely again and I notice the little jewels on her canines. The people here seem to want to bejewel everything.
I can tell that the purpose of my makeup was to makeup me look more innocent. They used an excessive amount of blush and made my lips look quite pouty. They straightened my hair and curled it just slightly at the ends. A few strands are tied up in the back with a delicate bow. If I didn’t know the purpose of this look was to make me have more “doll like” features, maybe I would like it. But I’m just thinking of the sick creatures who desire me looking like this.
Bijou leads me back to the small platform to put on my dress. She was right, the fabric is beautiful. The light pink dress has a corset bodice adorned with pearls and floral lace skirt that goes to my ankles. It leaves my shoulders exposed which must be why the makeup team made them look so shiny.
I wonder if they were asked to make me look specifically like this, as if by request. Am I wanted to be in pink because it’s someone’s favorite color? Are my lips supposed to look this pouty so they can seem more irresistible? These thoughts fill me with a sickening feeling of dread. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at myself again without wondering what predatory thoughts fill those who see me. Is this how I’ve always been thought of? Someone who can be easily taken advantage of and damaged?
“Darling? Come now.” I quickly turn to Bijou as she takes my hand. “You have a short meeting with Snow before you go to the party.” I look at her with a panicked expression. I didn’t know I was to be meeting with him. “Oh don’t look so nervous! He’s only a little intimidating.” She giggles and leads me out the room.
I walk a few steps behind her, my uneasiness slowing down my pace. I know he’ll probably only give me more information about tonight, but that thought does nothing to ease my anxiety. The corset doesn’t help either.
The walk to wherever we’re meeting is incredibly daunting. Part of me hopes the walk never ends, but the other part can’t wait to get this over with. It’s not even like I’ll be filled with relief once I’m done talking with Snow. I’ll immediately have another thing to worry about. It’s an endless cycle of horrors.
“Here we are!” Bijou stops and opens a door. I struggle to make myself move. “Darling?” She looks at me with her cheery face, but there’s a hint of confusion.
“Sorry, I…” I trail off. She doesn’t understand and I can’t explain it to her. There is no one here that I can express my true feelings to. There is no one to comfort me. I just have to push through on my own.
Apprehensively, I walk through the doorway and there he is. He sits in a large, dark leather chair with his back facing me. Drink in hand, his arm drapes off the armrest and on the floor I can see his foot tapping. Not impatiently, but as if he’s counting the tempo of a song stuck in his head.
The room isn’t at all inviting. What I’ve seen from the Capitol’s style so far has been over the top and extravagant, but this is much different. Everything seems to be curated to Snow’s image, very poised and crisp. He is tasteful, not at all gaudy, and it makes everything intimidating.
Unlike the beginning of his first visit, he isn’t ushering me to sit. He’s letting me take my time to walk around to the chair directly across from him. It feels like I’m walking to my death and the fearfulness radiating off my body is adding to his entertainment. I try to look more composed and unbothered by his presence, but I know it falls flat. He can see me inside and out. I am wrapped around his finger and it’s agonizing.
“Miss Fabelle, you look lovely. Thank you for meeting with me to discuss tonight’s events.” He gives me a small, cunning smile as I sit. He gestures to an envelope on the small table beside my chair. “That, my dear, contains all the details you will need. You are to be on your best behavior and arrive to your room at your scheduled time.” I tensely nod at him. He looks directly into my eyes and I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to talk back to him. It won’t do me any good. Snow does a good job at staying calm and collected, but it’s not hard to see the true evil that’s inside him. He is successfully sucking the life from me.
“Yes, sir.” He stands and then walks to the window behind me. I shut my eyes and put my hand on my chest to try and calm my breathing. The smell of roses fills my senses.
“That’ll be all, Miss Fabelle. I do hope you enjoy tonight’s festivities, but remember dear girl, you are here on business. This party isn’t for your entertainment.” I stand and nervously straighten out my dress.
“Yes, President Snow. I understand.” And I am thankfully dismissed from this suffocating room, on to the next horror.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
~ Finnick ~
The amount of linen my stylist chose to put me in isn’t at all ideal considering the weather. It’s still a bit chilly out and the thin cloth makes me feel practically naked, well that and the fact that my shirt is barely even buttoned.
It’s only been an hour and I’m already fed up with the amount of women that have all but drooled on me. Women that are probably ten or twenty years older than me. It will never not be completely disgust me, the Capitol’s obsession with teenagers that have been forced to murder. Getting aroused by that is fucking psychotic.
“Finnick! It is such a pleasure to see you again.” A woman I faintly remember from one of the last parties walks towards me. Her bright orange feather dress is practically blinding.
“The pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” I wink and kiss her hand. I’d say she’s blushing but it could just be all of the makeup she’s wearing.
“You’re always so charming. I can’t wait to see how you’ll charm me later tonight.” She whispers in my ear and then gives it a swift lick. Her boldness almost makes me jump back. I could gag, but then I’d ruin the facade.
“C’mon now, don’t get me all riled up here.” I whisper back, thankful she can’t see my face. I know the look in my eyes isn’t at all believable. “Save it for later.” I smirk at her before walking away.
I walk towards a table of drinks and finger foods. I’m gonna need to down a bottle of something to get through his night. I see her as she goes to grab a glass of wine at the opposite end of the table. Silk. Wine seems to be her drink of choice. She almost goes for the red, but pauses and then reaches for the rosé. Probably a wise decision considering the color of her dress. The pink really looks stunning on her.
I didn’t expect to see her again so soon, but there she is. They didn’t even give her time to get her bearings before dragging her back over here. She looks like she’s glowing. I’m sure part of that effect is from her stylist, but not all of it. There’s something about her that makes her shine. In a way that’s soft and ethereal, like moonlight. If she is the moon, Silk pulls me into her world like the tides. And I go willingly.
I’m not sure what it was, but when I first saw her I felt immediately drawn in. When she was standing away from the crowd, finally getting away from the vultures, I felt like I had to meet her. It could’ve been my only chance. And she was nothing if not astonishing. I didn’t have enough time with her. I was left wanting more, but there was nothing I could do since I had other obligations. I’m not as busy tonight which is a relief. I may have more time to get to know her.
I walk towards her, looking around to make sure no one is itching for my attention.
“Hello again, Silk Fabelle.” She flinches, not unlike when I first met her, but it’s even more noticeable this time. “You know, I really don’t mean to startle you with every greeting.” I laugh but her expression doesn’t change a bit.
“It’s fine.” Something is off. The air around her is different.
“What’s going on, doll face?” She looks at me and glares. Shit. Why did I say that? Of course calling her by what the Capitol has deemed her as would be triggering. I wish I would think before I fucking speak. She has a way of making me so nervous, something others can’t do so easily. I’m usually more grounded. I’ve gotten so good at this confident facade of flirtations that it’s almost as easy as breathing. But with her…I feel it melting away. Like I’m having to relearn how to communicate.
“Don’t call me that.” She turns away from me and looks at her glass. I swear I can see tears brimming her eyes.
“I..I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve known not to.” She doesn’t look back up at me. I reach out my hand to her arms and she backs away slightly.
“What do you want, Finnick?” Her tone isn’t malicious, it sounds defeated. When she finally looks back up at me I can almost feel my heart breaking. She looks so empty.
“I just…are you okay?” And then it hits me. They’ve started selling her. But It isn’t her time to start. It can’t be. She just finished the games, they can’t be moving this fast with her.
“Just trying to make it through the night.” She gives me a pitiful smile. “You should go enjoy it while you can.” She starts to walk away, but I can’t let her leave yet.
“Silk, please.” She stops and turns back towards me. I wish I could embrace her and tell her it’ll be okay. But I can’t and it won’t. There’s nothing I can do to stop what Snow has planned for her.
“I’ve got places to be, Finnick. People to meet. Maybe another time we can finally have a full conversation.” Sorrow fills her voice. I watch her walk away and the pull that I feel from her just gets stronger. I want to be wrong. I wish that she could just be left alone, but I know how her night will go. I know that in the next few hours she will have yet another trauma. Another nightmare that will wake her in the night. But I refuse to let her suffer alone.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
~ Silk ~
The man that bought my time for the night finally leaves and I’m left on the bed, still face down. Maybe if I lay here long enough I can melt away. I could just become a decayed mess that was left here to rot. My skin burns and I can feel the tears trickle across my face and onto the bedspread. I finally sit up to cover myself with the sheets and make my way the bathroom. I only make it two steps before my legs give out on me and I drop to the ground. I just continue with a slow, pathetic crawl. I can’t imagine what I look like, but the thought is enough to make me vomit once I reach the toilet. Once I finish I continue to sit there and let go of the sobs that I was holding in. I want to scream until my throat turns raw and bleed, but I have to suck it all up. The punishment that my mom would have to pay the price for constantly floats around in my thoughts. It torments me.
I finally try to stand up and I brace myself against the counter. I stare just below the mirror for what feels like hours until I shakily raise my head to look at myself. I don’t even know who is staring back at me. She’s looks broken and filled with dread. I see only a shell of a human being. I feel so infuriated with what she has just gone through. What she has been going through. Before I realize, I grab a candle that was sitting on the counter and throw it at the mirror. My hands are shaking as the shattered glass falls into the sink. If only that had helped release some of my built up tension. All I can do is stand there and look at the mess.
I’m startled by the door to my room opening and I wrap myself tighter in the sheet. An avox enters to fix up the bed, but she notices me cowering in the bathroom doorway. She looks at the broken glass and doesn’t seem phased at all. I feel guilty for her having to clean it up, but hopefully she can forgive me all things considered.
She stands just outside the bathroom door once she’s done making up the bed. As if she’s ushering me to leave so she can start clearing away my breakdown. I hesitantly walk past her back into the bedroom. I see a change of clothes on the dresser for me and since she’s shut away in the bathroom I go ahead and put them on.
I don’t think I can lay again in that bed, let alone sleep in it, so I just sit down on the floor by the loveseat. I feel quite pathetic. I feel angry. I feel like I could burst at the seams, just like my dress did. I wonder how Bijou would feel knowing the dress she worked so hard to make is now ripped up on the floor.
“I don’t care. I don’t care about the mirror that I shattered. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about anyone or anything here. I don’t fucking care.” The saliva built up from my tears and sick spit out slightly as I whisper angrily to myself. Without realizing, I’m also sinking my nails into my shoulders while holding myself. I’ve grown to do that a lot now. Mostly when my anger and sadness builds up. The sight of me is a disgusting mess, I’m sure of it. I didn’t used to feel this weak and despondent. I used to be confident and full of so much life. I was passionate about caring for my district, but I tried to always remain positive. I tried to stay hopeful. But I’m scared that’s all gone. That I’ve lost who I was and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find her again. She has sunken into the abyss and there is no one to bring her back to the surface.
The avox walks out of the bathroom finally and looks at me on the floor. She looks like she has a some pity in her eyes, but it quickly fades away when she turns to leave the room. As she opens the door I can see a figure standing in the hall. Is there going to be someone else? Am I not done? My nails sink farther further into shoulders and I stare into the hallway, not even trying to hide the panic in my eyes.
The avox walks away and I can see that it isn’t someone here to use me, it’s Finnick. But why is Finnick here? How does he even know that I’m here. I know I didn’t even try to hide my misery, but how did he find me?
“Silk..?” He looks at me with that familiar softness in his green eyes. “Is it okay if I come in” he speaks in a whisper.
“How’d you know I was in here?” I say quickly as if I’m accusing him of something.
“I bribed an avox into pointing me to your room.” I can tell he was about to use his suave way of speaking to lighten the mood, but it isn’t the time. He knows to be serious.
“Why?” I say so plainly. He doesn’t have to be here. He doesn’t know me. There isn’t anything to gain from being here. But he looks at me with hurt, but it’s hurt for me. Is it so insane to wonder why anyone would want to be here with me right now?
“Because, I know what happened here. And I said I didn’t want you to have to go through this alone. I meant that. Especially with this.” And the sadness in his eyes is back. The same look from when we met. The illusion has faded and I can see that this is what is causing him to sink. I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that he is going through this too, I just didn’t think about how many others Snow is forcing to sell their bodies.
I nod at him and move over on the floor, allowing him to come in. He sighs and smiles sadly at me but I look down and continue to hold onto myself. Like I’m scared I’ll float away. He walks in slowly to not cause any sudden stress and then sits next to me. I move over a bit more. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong, but I’m scared to be close to him. I’m scared to be close to anyone. Just him knowing what happened in here is terrifying to me. What if this gets me in trouble? What if it leads back to Snow?
“How…how are you doing?” I huff out a laugh. Like the audacity of the question makes it humorous.
“Fucking fantastic.” I then turn to look at and I know he sees the anger in my face. His entire demeanor shifts from worry to guilt.
“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-“
“I know.” I cut him off, “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help.” I look back at him and wish he could just read my mind. The words feel too difficult to say. “It’s just…” I hesitate, trying not to start crying. “…they took my girlhood…that was mine. No one is supposed to just take that from you. But they snatched it up with no remorse. I thought that I’d get to go home. That when I won, I’d get to go home and be with my mom and live my life. I knew I’d still have to relive the pain again every year when mentoring. I knew I would have guilt and nightmares and all of these horrible memories, but I’d at least be home. But I can never go back home. I am trapped in this hell forever.” I no longer try to stop my tears from falling. My shoulders ache from me grasping on for dear life. It’s all too much and I hate it.
“Silk” he tries to calm me. He tries to move my arms.
“Don’t touch me.” I snap at him. I don’t mean to, it just comes out and he immediately withdraws himself.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. Just, please, you’re hurting yourself.” I shakily remove my hands from my shoulders and instead mess with the hem of my shirt. I try to tell him I’m sorry, but I can’t speak. I want his comfort but I’m too panicked. My breathing is rapid and he can tell. He shifts just slightly closer, but he’s cautious to not get too close.
“Hey, just look at me. You’re safe. You’re okay, I’m with you. No one else is coming through that door. Just keep looking at me and follow my breathing.” He takes deep breaths in and out and I try to follow. It’s shaky, but my breathing calms down. I keep looking at him and try to ground myself. “That’s good. You’re okay, yeah?” He gives me a small, reassuring smile and I nod. I timidly reach out my hand. I want to touch him. To feel that he is real. He reaches back to hold my hand, but not before intently looking at me to get the okay. His thumb rubs my palm at the pace that he was using to calm my breaths. I close my eyes and sigh deeply. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”
I nod and stand up, still holding his hand. His other hand is ready to help if I stumble. When we walk into the bathroom he lets out a small laugh.
“Oh, yeah...I broke the mirror.”
“I can see that. Good work.” He looks at me and smiles. He inspects to counter to make sure there’s no leftover glass, and then helps me up to sit. He grabs two washcloths, one for my face and one for my arms, and runs them under warm water. He hands one to me and I start cleaning up as much of the makeup and dried tears as I can while he tends to my shoulders. The focus that Finnick puts into cleaning my small cuts is so caring and gentle. I can’t help but look at him. He looks so concentrated and beautiful. Like he was carved out of marble, and then I see his dimples forming from the smirk he’s giving me.
“Like what you see?” I roll my eyes and turn my face away from his.
“You’re annoying” His face looks dramatically hurt and shocked.
“You’ve wounded me. I’m heartbroken.” I can’t help my lips from twitching. “There’s that smile, pretty girl.” I turn my head back to face him and sigh. He is so unusual to me. There is so much more to him than what meets the eye. His cockiness and flirtatious spirit is just one of playful banter. It’s not who he truly is. It’s his cover for the Capitolite, but besides that it’s just to amuse. To lighten the mood. The real Finnick is much more complicated and I’m so compelled to uncover his true character.
“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me.” He rolls his eyes.
“Why do you keep asking me that?” He laughs lightly and I shrug.
“I just don’t understand. You just met me yet you keep being so kind to me. You keep going out of your way and there is nothing to gain.” He sighs and looks down at the washcloth in his hand.
“Remember when you helped that kid in the arena? That girl from 2 got his leg pretty good with a spear and you could’ve just left him there. Let someone else find him. But you helped him up, led him to a place where he could hide, and tried your best to clean up his wound. You even gave him some of your food before you left. You didn’t know him. You had nothing to gain from that, but you did it anyway.” I remember him. He was so small. I didn’t want to help him, I wanted to ignore everything around me. I wanted to shut off my emotions, but he was just a little boy. He didn’t deserve to be left in mud, waiting for someone to kill him. And I knew that if I saw his picture at night, it would’ve been my fault. That wouldn’t have been survival. That would’ve been inhumane.
“He was from 4. He was yours.”
“Yeah..he was a good kid. You didn’t treat him like a tribute you had to kill, you treated him like a person. He was able to survive longer because of you. Your kindness, it meant something to me.” I look down at my hands. I don’t even know if that was kindness. I did it to save myself from the guilt. But, I guess sometimes that’s what kindness is. Maybe that’s why Finnick is here tonight.
“I guess I’ve been having a hard time trusting people’s motives.”
“For good reason.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Come on pretty girl, let’s run you a hot shower.” He holds my hand as I hop off the counter and then goes to start the water. He holds his hand under it to feel for the perfect temperature. He decides everything is ready and steps towards the door. At first, him caring for me made me feel a bit uneasy, but I guess it’s not too much. It is better than doing this all alone.
“Alright, I’ll be just outside if that’s okay. I don’t have to stay, though.” His sweet green eyes look into mine. I can tell he wants to, like he wants to protect me.
“You can. I think..that’d be nice.”
The warm water washes over me and I run my hands through my hair. I wish I could easily scrub away the events of today. The most I can do is scrub away the feeling of disgust. I guess this is supposed to be my future routine. Every few months I go up to the Capitol for a day or two, go through hell, then go home. I’m sure that’s how they think of it. So simple. I can easily get over it. How is someone supposed to get over having their body taken advantage of? They’re not, but I’m not thought of an actual person here. Just a toy.
This is happening to Finnick too. He said he knew what happened. He knew how to calm me and what to do to help. This is all so hard to come to terms with. Finnick won three years ago at just fourteen. Did Snow make him start immediately, like me? If so, he’s been doing this for so long already. All on his own. No one to soothe him after the torture. How is he still standing? Has he become numb to it? That thought doesn’t make it any better.
From how I have felt tonight, I cannot imagine what Finnick felt his first night. Fourteen years old and left to suffer in silence. I can only hope that they weren’t so horrible to him that young.
I could have stayed in that shower for hours and still wouldn’t have felt completely clean. I dry myself off and I’m relieved I can barely see what I look like because of the broken mirror. I don’t know how I’d feel seeing myself naked right now, but I know it wouldn’t be positive. It’d probably set me off again.
When I’m finished getting dressed I walk back into the bedroom. I see Finnick waiting patiently on the loveseat and he smiles when he sees me. He has such a beautiful smile. His dimples and the creases near his eyes make him look so warm and inviting. I sit on the opposite side of the couch, keeping some space between us. I think I’m beginning to trust him, but he still makes me nervous. That feeling I don’t quite understand. It’s not necessarily negative, it’s just…different.
“Feeling a bit better?” I nod and wrap my arms around my legs, giving myself a sense of security. The worst of the night is over, but it’s hard to feel at ease.
“I think so. Thank you, by the way. For being here and being patient.”
“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl.”
“Maybe, but I want to. Your kindness means something to me.” I smile softly and he looks down at his hands, blushing slightly. I feel like I can see him more clearly. Like I’ve uncovered a portion of his mystery. So much has happened to him tonight too, but I haven’t seen him upset. Like he holds it in. Like he wants to care for everyone else first.
“Finnick?” He hums in response immediately. Ready to help in any way I’d need, but I don’t need anything from him right now. I just want him to know I would do for him what he has done for me. “How are you feeling?” He shakes his head, brushing me off.
“I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about me.” He smiles, but I know this one isn’t as genuine. He is hiding his pain and my heart aches for him.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, but just like you have worried over me, I am going to worry over you.” He turns his head to the side, looking out the window at the city below us. He stays that way for a minute and I give him his time.
“They were quick with you. They didn’t give you any time to settle. They didn’t start immediately with me. At least not like this. They gave me the illusion of peace. I would come to Capitol parties every few months or so. Get dragged around by different women, but just to talk. Every now and then someone would touch my arms or my chest while flirting, but that was it. When I turned fifteen, things started to slowly escalate. It was secretive, but I’d be taken to backrooms for quick sessions. Nothing below the belt, but then I turned sixteen.” He takes a breath, somewhat shaky. He still isn’t looking at me, but I haven’t taken my eyes off of him. “Nothing was off the table. They could do whatever they wanted and I had to go along with it. And Snow would make sure of it.” I look at him sadly. I know how he was threatened. How he didn’t actually have a choice. He takes another deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. He’s looking at me now. His eyes are just slightly red. Like he is holding back tears that he refuses to let fall. “Every time I go back home I spend the entire day at the beach. I ignore everyone else and just swim as if I could swim away from this. It’s the only place I can let go. To try and distract myself from what happens here.”
“Tell me about it. The beach, the water.” He tilts his head, but I see his lip twitch slightly. It’s like just the thought of the ocean can bring him some ease. “There’s a place just past the border in 8 that I go to get away from everything. There’s a very small, rocky beach, but the water is too polluted from the factories. All I can do is listen to the waves, but it’s my favorite thing to do. Ever since I found that spot I wanted to know what a real ocean is like. How the water feels on your skin. What it sounds like washing up against sand.” He looks into my eyes and smiles, no longer trying to suppress it.
“It’s my favorite place in the world. Every morning that I can, I start by running to the beach and immediately jumping in the water. It’s so cold when it’s early, the sun is barely even up, but it’s breathtaking. You feel the coolness against your skin, flowing with you as you move. You can taste the salt in the air when you go above to breathe. It’s a feeling of freedom that you can’t feel anywhere else. When the breeze hits your body as you get out of the water. It’s unlike anything you could imagine. It’s hypnotizing.” He looks so captivated by his thoughts. Like he’s been taken to another world. I don’t know if I have anything like that. Something that can bring me so much peace and happiness.
“I hope I can experience that someday” Now it’s me turning to look outside. The hope that I feel is so strong. The hope that one day things can be good. That this world will no longer be suffocating and terrifying.
“Maybe one day you can.” I turn back to him and he’s looking into my eyes so earnestly. There’s a warmth that I feel from him. He thinks the same thing that I do. That strong feeling of hope is what can keep us going.
I keep trying not to fall asleep, but my eyelids have become so heavy. Thankfully, my conversations with Finnick have distracted me enough that I can feel somewhat relaxed. But I can’t get back in that bed. I can’t sleep there.
“I’ll grab some blankets.” He gets up to start turning the loveseat into my bed for the night.
“I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to sleep. I’m sure the second I’m alone with my thoughts I’ll be too anxious to.” I let out a nervous laugh.
“I can stay if that’d be okay. If it would help.” I watch him walk back over to me. The moonlight from outside glows on his tan skin as he stands near me. His golden blonde waves have gotten messier throughout the night, but he still looks perfect.
“You don’t have to do that. I mean, where would you sleep? Unless you’re okay with the bed.”
“I’m fine on the floor. And then, if you need anything…I’m right there.” He says that so casually as puts the blanket over the cushions, but I can see the slight tint of pink sneaking up on his cheeks. I can feel my face heating up as well.
“You can’t sleep on the floor, Finnick.” I help tuck the blanket into one corner.
“Sure I can. I’ve slept on worse.” He shrugs. He’s not wrong and I can say the same, but still. Am I even sure I want him to stay? My thoughts are quick to say yes, the night with him has been lovely, but what if that got back to Snow? Does that actually matter? I was never told I couldn’t develop a friendship with other victors. However, something tells me that whatever happiness I find here will be stolen away from me.
“It’s up to you. If you’re fine with the floor I’m fine with you staying.” He grins so sweetly. I can tell he doesn’t want to be alone either.
I lay on the loveseat, facing Finnick as he lays on the floor. We both talk about home, learning about each other’s district as we grow more and more tired. When I finally fall asleep, my arm is draped over the cushion and I swear I can feel the touch of Finnick’s fingers lightly on mine. As if he’s reaching up to tell me he’s not going anywhere. His protective touch saves me from any nightmares that dare to enter my mind.
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Thank you so much for reading! You all were so nice with my first chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one :) As always I am open to kind feedback. Also let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next chapter!! <3
Tag list <3 (I again tagged some people who liked the related posts. Hope that’s okay!!)
@ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler @gremlin515 @bruuhky @0ceanautical @princessofyourmom @babypaperwitch @readawaythereality2
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#finnick odair#finnick o’dair#finnick fanfic#finnick x oc#Finnick O’dair x oc#original character#oc fanfiction#thg finnick#thg oc#catching fire#hunger games#mockingjay#thg fanfiction#thg series#hunger games finnick#finnick odair x reader#finnick x reader#finnick x you#the hunger games#finnick imagine#I Won’t Let You Sink#IWLYS#finnick x y/n#thg fic#fanfiction#president snow#thg#thg x reader
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17 please
Every step Eddie took, Buck followed suit. His eyebrows were contorted in worry, and he kept fidgeting.
“Are- are you sure this is gonna work?”
Eddie inhaled deeply, moving around the kitchen in the limited space he had, picking bowl after bowl of snacks. He turned to his boyfriend with a stern look. “Buck,” he said, his tone bordering on exasperated, “please stop worrying. It’s gonna be okay. Here,” he added, handing him the dishes forcefully, “take these to the table.”
Buck pursed his lips, pulling the bowls close to his body. “Eddie, I’m just- I don’t wanna fight ‘em.”
“No one’s fighting anyone.”
The promise sounded wobbly, like it could break at any moment. But, then again, Eddie had earned his trust. At least he wasn’t facing them on his own.
“Okay,” Buck whispered, defeated. “I’m- I’ll give you space.”
His boyfriend was very obviously tired, and he wasn’t being precisely useful.
“Park it,” Eddie ordered, sighing. He put his hand up, stopping Buck before he could make it through the threshold. “Come here.”
Buck obeyed, blinking away a few tears. Eddie grabbed his arm, pulling him in.
“It’s going to be okay,” he reassured him, placing his hands on Buck’s neck before leaning up to kiss him.
It was long, and soft and enough to make Buck’s shoulders relax.
Then the bell rang.
They were here.
Almost immediately, Buck’s look of panic returned to his face. Eddie breathed out, pulling away from him, then gave him a kiss on the cheek before walking to the door. “C’mon baby.”
Buck stayed behind. Frozen in the middle of the kitchen, with half a pound of mini toasts and salty chips.
Admittedly, it was kind of selfish, but he couldn’t let them in himself —besides, Eddie hadn’t waited for him, either.
Soon, though, the voices of Ramon and Helena Diaz, and Phillip and Margaret Buckley filled his ears to the brim. They were asking for him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Buck!”
“Coming!”
The bitter taste of the word ‘baby’ got stuck in his throat. Not yet, not yet.
Who told them this was a good idea?
Irrupting through the kitchen door was enough to make their guests stare. Eddie glanced between them, forcing a smile Buck knew fake a little too well. He copied it. “Hi- hi mom, d-dad,” he said, his voice quiet.
Eddie walked towards him, taking back the bowls into his own. “Go,” he whispered, tilting his head to the side in repetitive little motions.
“Oh, uh- yeah, h-hi!” Buck muttered, moving as fast as he could through their crowd. “Mr. Díaz, Mrs- Mrs. Díaz.”
Both men patted him on the back, reminding him how strong they actually were. He gulped. He was okay, he was safe.
Margaret kissed his cheek, leaving an imprint of her lips. Buck wiped it with the back of his hand, smiling down politely at her so as to not offend her. Helena barely acknowledged him; she simply glanced at her own son with suspicion.
Right, he guessed this was a very particular invitation after all.
As soon as he was done, he stepped back, returning to Eddie’s side. He had finally settled the bowls down on the table, where they belonged.
The six of them stared at each other.
“Mijo, what’s going on?” Helena blurted, crossing her left leg over her right one. “Don’t- don’t get me wrong,” she added, looking over at Buck’s parents, “I- I’m thrilled to see you all, but-,”
“Nothing, ma,” interrupted Eddie rashly, “Buck and I have- we have busy schedules, that’s all. You’re always on my case about seeing me more… we thought it’d be a nice-,”
“Buck’s not all that busy,” exclaimed Margaret, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This… firefighting thing is more like a hobby.”
Buck felt his neck and cheeks color. Always good to know what your mother thought of your job.
“I disagree, Mrs. Buckley,” Eddie said after a second. “Being a firefighter is a highly demanding job, and some may think it resembles a hobby, but both Buck and I, and our entire team, actually…, we put all our efforts into taking care of you.”
The last word made Buck lower his head, his ears perking up. He knew Eddie better than anyone else in that room, and that was a direct shot.
“Edmundo,” called Ramon, his voice stern and his eyebrows furrowed. “Be respectful to your friend’s mother.”
Not that it should have, but he felt as though ‘friend’ had stabbed him in the throat.
Eddie fell silent. So much so that Buck raised his head and looked at him, his eyes wide and expectant. It took him a second, but he eventually returned the stare. “Okay,” he said, finally. “I thought we’d have more time of small talk, but- it is what it is.”
“Eddie.”
“Buck-,” he muttered, putting his hands up and closing his eyes. “It’s time”.
“I don’t understand,” interrupted Helena. She sounded upset already, as if she could sniff their confession from a mile away.
“I’m afraid neither do I,” followed Margaret, looking among the guests, but eventually blinking up at her husband.
He took her hand. “Care to tell us what’s going on, Evan?”
“It’s- Buck, dad,” he tried. “Whatever.”
“Okay,” repeated Eddie. “Everybody shut up.”
“Mijo!”
“Edmundo!”
“No, mom, dad. It’s time you listen to what we have to say.”
Buck gulped, blinking. He could hear his own heart in his ears, and it was making him dizzy. He looked at Eddie, who straightened up where he stood.
“You were right. We do have something to tell you,” he started. “This could have been a text, but out of respect for you, and for Buck, I’ve decided to do it this way.”
“Did you get a girl pregnant?” Ramon asked, short of standing up. Buck took a step back. Jesus Christ.
“No.”
“Then what’s so important you had to fly us out from Texas?”
Eddie licked his lips. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “Mom, dad, Mr., Mrs. Buckley… Buck and I are together.”
The way Phillip’s face changed in real time made Buck realize Eddie had grabbed his hand in the process. He was holding it, and squeezing it. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he managed to squeeze back.
“What is this?” Phillip said, a disgusted look plastered on his face.
“Together, together?” Margaret said, her smile faltering.
In a hurry, Ramon stood up, and Buck couldn’t help his reaction. He took two steps back, hiding behind Eddie. “What are you telling me, Edmundo? That you’re a fa-?”
“Ramon!” Helena interrupted, mimicking her husband. She put herself in front of him, trying to push him back.
Eddie took a step forward, and their hands slid away from each other. “Yes,” he said, his features hard, and unnerved. “Yes, I am. You got a problem with that?”
“Evan,” said Phillip. “Come here right this second.”
Buck was breathing heavily. This is exactly what he didn’t want. Oh, god, oh, god. He put his foot up, but Eddie extended his arm, crossing his body. “No,” he said, “he’s done taking orders from you.”
“So, he’s taking them from you now?” Margaret said, putting her hands up in desperation. “Evan- what have you turned into?”
“Mom,” he tried, his voice weak. “I’m not- I didn’t turn into anything, I’ve always-,”
“This city has turned my boy into a homosexual,” she cried, covering her face with her hands.
Eddie scoffed. “Buck’s bisexual, Maggie. I’m gay.”
“You are no such thing!” Ramon exclaimed, stomping his foot on the wooden floorboards. “You are sick, and I will punch this sickness out of you if I have to.”
“Ramon!”
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie muttered, smiling. He ignored Buck’s tug on his shirt, taking another step forward. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Please, Eddie-,”
“Evan Buckley,” called Phillip. “We’re leaving. Go to the car.”
Buck frowned. “What? No.”
Phillip launched forward, keen on grabbing Buck by the shirt, but Eddie was faster. He put himself between them, staring up at his boyfriend’s father. “You’ll have to go through me first.”
“You’re not very tall.”
“But I was in the army, and I’ve seen torture that’d make you wet your pants like a little boy.”
“Edmundo!” Helena yelled, pushing past her husband to get to him. She grabbed him by the arm, pulling him away. “This is not who we raised you to be. What’s- what’s happened to you?”
“He takes it in the ass now,” scoffed Phillip, clicking his tongue mockingly.
Buck gasped, his eyes wide. Oh, hell no. “Actually, that’s me, dad.”
Silence. Eddie slowly turned to his boyfriend, the echo of fear resonating through his features.
“I’m the one that takes it the ass, dad, and boy do I love it.”
Like a maniac, Phillip reached for Buck. He grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him to himself. A few cushions were scattered on the floor, and it made them stumble. That was window enough for Eddie, who took the man’s wrist and turned it.
Everyone started yelling.
Buck fell to his knees, hitting his elbow on the glass table behind him. He winced, and Eddie ducked, dodging Phillip’s fist.
They both stood up in unison, finding their way back to each other. Eddie was the first to scream back. “All of you. Out. Now!”
“Eddie,” Helena whispered.
“Get out of my house. All of you.”
They all stared, but an ounce of common sense collectively reached their brains. One by one, they exited the perimeters, leaving Eddie to wrap his arm around his Buck protectively.
“I got you, baby, I got you.”
Buck broke into a sob.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Please take this as a very late Seven Sentence Sunday!
Tagged (yesterday) by @hippolotamus @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings & @lover-of-mine thank you so much! Go check their works if you haven’t yet💗
Tagging some friends and peeps who I believe may be interested in the ficlet! Let me know if you wish to be removed!! @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @butraura @bucksbirthmark @wildlife4life @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @giddyupbuck @buckleyobsessed @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddie---diaz @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @eowon @smilingbuckley @firemedicdiaz @princessfbi ✨
#Seven Sentence Sunday#tw: violence#the prompt technically included a ‘please’ at the end but I couldn’t bring Eddie to say that in this context lmao#buddie#911 fox#911#eddie diaz#evan buckley#911 tv show#evan buck buckley#buck x eddie#buck and eddie#911 abc#buddie 911#buddie wip#buddie ficlet#buddie fic#buddie fanfic#buddie fanfiction#911 on abc#911 buddie
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STH Rarepair Week 24 - Day 1 - First Encounter - Amy x Bark
HAHAHA I DID IT
I WROTE IT
FOR THE SWEETIES
Thanks to @sonicrarepairweek2024 for the event that got me writing in English for the first time in my life!! (And to The Art of Letting Go EP by ANA that bangs as hell and kept me alive through the writing process)(I found out this music randomly and it turned out to be great)
The IDW comic shows the first encounter of Amy and Bark (I guess? I read it like a year ago,,, but now I think it did), but I got the vibe and reimagined it. This entire event will be severely vibe-based because I’m still unaware of the most of the Sonic lore :D
Fic under the cut! TW: amateur writing and possible grammar mistakes (I’ll fix it tomorrow after a good sleep)
The sun pours its light down on hills. It’d be hot today if there wasn’t a chilly breeze.
Another gust drags an umbrella from Amy Rose’s hands and makes it float away. She, who’s been trying to set it up, lets out a cry and follows it, but fails to catch it. With her eyes fixed on the umbrella she doesn’t watch her way and almost trips—but bumps into someone soft.
Amy looks up and sees a bear. He holds the umbrella awkwardly with both hands, like he doesn’t know what to do with it.
Few moments past, he hands it over to Amy, murmuring, “Here it is, ma’am.”
“Thank you!” she chirps. “You are so strong—would you please help me to get everything ready for a picnic?”
Amy’s been waiting for Sonic and Tails. Three of them always have picnics on Sundays, but today they seem to be late.
“We haven’t met, but if you joined us, it’d be a great chance to get to know each other! I’m Amy Rose, and what’s your name?” Amy inquires when watching the bear set up the umbrella effortlessly.
“Bark. Bark the Polar Bear,” he mumbles in reply.
He has to go, actually, but he doesn’t know how to put it to not offend the young lady. He’s on a mission—Fang and Bean, need him to complete his part of their plan. How has he ever managed to appear in the girl’s way?.. He sighs into his scarf and kneels to help her.
But it feels nice to unroll the colorful blankets and fill them with all kinds of snacks while listening to Amy’s sweet rumbling. It feels much better than doing what they call mischief-making—as soon as Bark listened to the Hooligan’s plan for today, he didn’t like it, considering it nasty. The girl would be upset to know that he was a part of something like that.
“Won’t you stick around? Are you sure?” Amy asks when they are done.
Bark shakes his head and gets up. He is both flustered and strangely happy, and both of the feelings make him want to walk away.
“Okay… Thank you for the help anyway! I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again!”
Amy waves goodbye to Bark until he’s not in sight, and soon after that she turns around to Sonic’s loud greeting.
“Sorry for the lag, Am—we’ve got in a fight with guys who call themselves the Hooligans. Luckily, something went wrong on their side, so we’re here alive and well.”
“I’m just happy to have you here! It’s a pity though that you didn’t see the guy that has just gone away… He was so nice and helped me!”
✨
Thank for reading this far! I’m a better writer, I promise, this piece is mid because I was focused on simply putting words together rather than making it good. But I hope it’s any good! Not too bad for the first time I think!
#sthrarepair24#sonic idw#idw sonic#sth#amy rose#amy rose the hedgehog#bark the polar bear#Barkamy#rarepair
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