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lestatlioncunt · 2 years

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bestie PLEASE tell me about evangelia 🤲🏼

BESTIE BELOVED HI. i have very few facts about her she is such a newborn oc,,just another evil fucked up corpo. i'll give you all the facts i can

full name is Evangelia MacMillan, she’s born in scotland from scottish father and greek mother, in fact her first name was chosen by her mom. she doesn’t exactly like it that much so she mainly goes with Eva

she’s 32 in 2077 and is 1.74m tall (fought myself so hard to not make her extra tall as usual)

she’s a corpo working for arasaka, she does PR work for the company because i have so many ocs in the 2077 world that kick ass extra well (vesper,,,akira,,and so on) so i wanted someone that is good at, well, manipulation fjdskf

on this note, her biggest skills are: manipulating, gaslighting, gatekeeping and girlbossing. i think she can handle herself with a gun but you know, she knows how to Talk and that’s the main way she gets out of trouble or get things done. especially since she has such a big powerful company behind her back

she is the classic corpo that is striving to get rich and powerful. actually, i could say that it’s not about getting rich for her but mainly about being powerful. she wants that power and wants to feel that she has pawns under her that she can move the way she wants. in fact she quickly climbed the ranks of arasaka (a bit of blackmail, a bit of murder, you know how it is (: )

she started with public affairs/public relations type of work into arasaka and slowly build up her power since she’s just that efficient. now her area of expertise is crisis communication & government relations but everything that falls into PR work first goes by her desk

she can be quite friendly (she’s faking it) and most of the time she is probably using the people around her to get what she wants but somehow she managed to make akira like her (””””””””like her””””””””) which is a lot since akira basically..doesn’t like anyone (beside hanako mwah). they have some kind of friendship going on, eva is the only one that akira can tolerate (sometimes jfksdfk) and eva finds them...peculiar, funny? in a very uncanny way. main thing that akira likes about eva is her efficiency that’s why they keep eva working for arasaka even after them and hanako take over the company power (by my own storytelling jshfk)

i just think she’s the worse, she’s greedy and selfish and i like her like that <3

#arklay #ask #thank uuu leah MWAH. sorry i don't have many facts she's born out of my stress jdshfkj i still need to Think about her #main thing is that i wanted a corpo oc that is..well evil in the way of 'i just want to be powerful' and so on since yes. i have akira but #they don't exactly care about power or money or so on they just want to kill and mayhem fjkdsf so eva was born :) also i wanted to give a #lil friend to akira to interact with..jsfhk i will surely make eva meet vesper at some point i just know <33 #oc: evangelia

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dilatorywriting · 10 months

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Monster Mayhem: Love Drunk

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: You are a succubus, who is apparently really bad at their job. At least if your poor, nitpicking victim has anything to say about it.

A/N: Sorry for being horny on main, but here we are lol I've been writing a lot of little bits lately for a Twst OC of mine, and decided that hey, y'know what, might as well revamp some of the ones that are easily revamp-able into my usual reader-insert style and pump out some shenanigans rather than just letting them languish away in google docs. So here we be.

🌶️🌶️🌶️ WARNING for Spicy Content!

READ WHAT YOU LIKE, BUT BE MINDFUL OF WHAT YOU READ

“You’re late.”

The steam billowed as if with a sigh, and a familiar figure melted from the warm spray.

You blew a wet strand of hair out of your face with a noise that was nearly a raspberry. “I was busy.”

“I didn’t realize you had a life outside me,” Vil droned, only mostly serious. The little succubus seemed to pop out of the shadows at the slightest beckon, and even when you were gone, you always came back with nothing but talk of all the ways you’d worked to improve your craft since the last they spoke. And of your strange, card-faced friends, on occasion. But that was a topic you tended to hoard closely to your chest like a dragon to gold.

“Not everything revolves around you,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Vil leaned his head back to rinse the remainder of the conditioner from his hair. “Then maybe you shouldn’t act like my good opinion is the only thing keeping you employed, fed, and housed.”

You went warm in the ears, even under the heat of the steam, and crossed your arms petulantly over your chest. At least you’d been keen enough to not pop into his shower fully clothed this time. That had been a mess. You shifted back and forth on the balls of your feet with a grumpy, little huff and Vil didn’t bother to fight the way that his eyes followed the slowly rolling droplets of water that trailed lower with each fidget.

“Whatever. I’m here now, aren’t I?” you grouched. “But anyways, what’s the plan for today? Out late again?”

“More all-day shoots,” he said, reaching up to replace one bottle of custom hair product for another. “And an interview to follow that’s meant to be a pre-recording for the morning programs tomorrow. So that could be close to midnight, depending on when we finish up.”

Your nose scrunched in sympathy. “Ew. I don’t get why you do all this stuff. It sounds like a nightmare. Human media is so strange.”

Maybe it was. But—

“It’s worth it,” he huffed, running one of his newer serums through the silky strands of his pale hair. He glanced down at you from beneath his dripping bangs. “Have you been using the conditioner I gave you?”

“Do you think there are functional showers in Hell?” you snipped, and then averted your gaze in chagrin. “I have been trying. I just—it’s not always an option all the time,” you said, a bit embarrassed.

“Come here,” he sighed, twirling his finger in a sign to show him her back, and you shifted closer obediently.

It was always so funny, he thought, as he reached out to scrub white bubbles into your mused hair. That you would spit and hiss, and throw such a tantrum over everything. But when it came to actually obeying his orders? You were always putting one foot in front of the other to meet him more than halfway. If he said ‘jump,’ you’d whine and complain but inevitably ask ‘how high.’ Like a loyal little stray that growled and raised its hackles but would come preening for food and attention at the first whistle.

“Sounds like a stressful day,” you hummed, arching into his fingers like a cat being stroked down its spine. “Are you still stuck working with that one guy you hate? Nigel, or whatever?”

“Neige,” he huffed, giving your hair a soft tug in rebuke. “And yes. The project hasn’t wrapped yet.”

“So a very stressful day,” you mused, tilted your head back to thump against his chest and stare up at him through the steady stream of water overhead. He watched the thin, feline-like, pupils of your eyes flash and widen into something round and dark. “This’ll be perfect then.”

“What?” he scoffed, as if he hadn’t just seen those pulsing, black pupils himself and felt something in his stomach tug. “That I’m stressed?”

“No,” you huffed, cheeks puffing out in irritation like he’d known they would. “Because I’ve been practicing.”

He arched a pointed brow and your cheeks went rounder yet. You stepped out of his hold and turned so the two of you were chest to chest. Vil let his hands fall to rest at the dip in your back and you pressed along him in one, lean line from toe to hip. Those strange, iridescent irises of yours flicked over his face, his lips, and those rabbit cheeks went hot with embarrassment. (“Humans kiss each other,” he’d said during one of their earliest meetings, when he’d leaned in with a smirk to brush his mouth against your temple and you’d nearly started seizing. “It’s what they do.” And you’d gone rattlingly indignant and started sputtering about impropriety of all things. All while you were sitting there butt naked and demanding he let you jerk him off so you could meet your weekly quota).

Your eyes dipped low beneath your lashes. And then you darted up quick to press a peck to his chin before immediately dropping to your knees. You leaned forward to nuzzle into the soft, blonde hairs tufted there and then dragged your tongue up the length of him in one, long lick. Vil fought a shiver.

“Practicing, huh?” he droned, affecting boredom as best he was able.

“Yes,” you replied, determined, and gave another lick. Shorter, this time. And more focused along the delicate, pink crown of him. “You made fun of me last time! Called it a ‘High Schooler’s First Blowjob!’ How could I not practice?”

“Oh? With who?” he scoffed, a bit more bitter jealousy seeping into the sneer than he would have liked.

Your face went scrunchy with embarrassment again and then you were sinking back down to run your tongue against the thick vein along the underside. Vil reached out to twine his fingers in your hair and you ducked forward to take him into your mouth.

“You’re lucky you caught me before I got out of the shower,” he said on a sigh, hips twitching when you gave a firmer suck. “This would hardly be worth dirtying myself all over again for—”

You pressed her tongue sharply into the little slit at the head and then dragged the muscle forward in a wide sweep—circling the whole of the most sensitive creases and then applying that same, lovely, suction all over again. Vil groaned, low and rumbling, and he could practically taste the bubbling excitement of your pride bursting along his lips.

You hummed—smug—intentionally loud and muzzy, so that it shot through the buzzing nerves in his skin like a symphony. Vil grit his teeth and dug his fingers into your hair to yank. Instead of popping off with an indignant whine and a trailing string of saliva, you narrowed your eyes at him and then dove forward—relaxing your throat and swallowing him down until your nose was pressed into his pubic bone. Vil cursed, head falling back against the tile wall with a punched-out moan and fingers twining shakily in the short hairs by the base of your skull.

“You have been practicing,” he mumbled, fighting the urge to go a bit cross-eyed when you swallowed around him.

You hummed in affirmation. It vibrated all the way from head to base and he shivered in time with it.

After too many long, long seconds of him nearly slipping down the wall with the curl of his toes, you popped off with a cough.

“I can hold my breath for ages now,” you declared proudly, a smear of milky white smudged along the corner of your lips. You leaned forward to prop your chin up against the jut of his hip bone and smirk up at him with a look that was a touch too genuinely excited to be truly impish. “Told you I could do it.”

“How foolish of me to have ever doubted your dedication,” he scoffed, still a bit too breathless for the sarcasm he was trying to spit. It nearly came out on a gasp and your grin grew wider. He sneered, a bit too harsh under his fluster, “What with your stalwart focus on never even touching the kits I’ve bought you. Let alone making any of the other bevy of improvements that I’ve been trying to put into place for weeks now.”

“Oh?” you droned, sharp. “Well, sorry to disappoint, Lord Vil. I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

And then without preamble, you were swallowing him down all over again all the way to the root—nose brushing the soft, pale, hair there as you dutifully squeezed your throat and ran your tongue along the underside until he was practically seeing stars. You drove forward further, hands coming up to dig your nails into his thighs as you pushed yourself until you were trembling and pinpricks of sharp tears dotted your lashes. One of those hands shifted between his legs, and you reached out with careful fingers to twine around the delicate stones there and squeeze.

Vil curled forward and came with something that was nearly a shout, trembling and loose as he emptied himself down your throat. You swallowed around each pulse, sending zip after zip of oversensitive buzzing through his veins.

You pulled away with another round of coughing, looking positively debauched. You scrubbed some of the dripping water out of your eyes and then moved to swipe away the stray drops of sticky whiteness that had managed to escape your otherwise valiant efforts to drink him dry.

“Better?” you grinned, hair mused and cheeks wet and sore.

A quip rested on his tongue. Something about how you could not be, when there’d been nowhere to go but up? But the genuinely delighted look on your face, and the soft, hesitant, undercurrent of nervous tension underneath had him loosening his fingers from your hair to rub at one of the milky stains littering your chin.

“It was good,” he said. “Better than that, even. Well done.”

“Worth taking another shower for?” you beamed.

“Worth an entire morning’s routine,” he smiled, far too soft, and leaned down to press a long, wet, kiss to your lips when you went spluttery and shy.

“I can come by your trailer, if you want,” the succubus offered, as Vil busied himself with blotting a towel over your dripping hair.

“Oh?” he mused. “I thought you only needed to feed once a day.”

“Well, sure. But I mean for your stress relief,” you said on an indignant little puff, crossing your arms tight across your chest. You peeked up from beneath your lashes, cautious. “I mean, only if you’d want that sort of thing.”

He reached out to cup your cheeks and pinch. You whined under his prodding but didn’t swat him away.

Vil sighed, dramatic and put upon. “I suppose if you insist. How could I deny my most precious little protégé anything they ask, hmm?”

“Easily, if the past few weeks are anything to go by,” you sneered around his tugging. “And who’s ‘your protégé’?! I’m the succubus here!”

“Yes,” he drawled. “A succubus who’s needed me to teach them everything they know. What a fearsome creature, indeed.”

“I could fuck you to death,” you threatened, eyes flashing bright and eerie.

Vil pinched harder, until the skin under his fingers went nearly white, and you winced—those same, slitted eyes going a bit glassy and nervous. He leaned forward until his breath ghosted along your lips and he watched your throat bob in a gulp.

“I’d like to see you try.”

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Succubus!Reader #Monster Mayhem Succubus Part 1 #SPICY CONTENT

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sheisjoeschateau · 4 months

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misha's masterlists

Hi, I'm Misha. Thank you for diving into my stories and supporting my writing :)

My fanfics [+this blog] are dedicated to Steve Harrington. All fanfic series, one-shots, blurbs, etc. listed below are written by me. Do not repost or share anywhere without proper credit. Thank you.

SERIES MASTERLISTS:

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..."

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

[Part IX - blurb] | [Part IX - full]

[Part X] | MORE COMING SOON

SUMMARY: WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU.

HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU...

BUT WILL HE?

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"You're there. You've always been there."

Steve Harrington x OC!fem!reader Childhood friends to lovers. Sloooowburn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Action. Told from second-person view, reader is Nicole (character from S1), different POV, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, pre-S1-S4, eventual post-S4 universe.

[PART I] | [PART II]

Summary: Steve Harrington was six years old when he met you: Nicole St. James, the girl who carries the other half of him. Since 1972, the two of you have been inseparably tethered by the soul. You give Steve a home in his big house with no parents, and he gives your introverted heart a longing for someone. The King of Hawkins High and princess of this small town, you tell each other absolutely everything...except that you are in love with each other.

Everything changes that one afternoon at school, when you catch the school's social outcast -- Jonathan Buyers -- has been stalking Steve, his posse and his girl, Nancy. Little do you both know, the monsters in your favorite fairytales are real. And you're both going to have to fight them together.

You both share the best days and worst days, through childhood and teen years, until you both find yourselves roped into the perils that exist beneath your feet in Hawkins.

But through it all, despite all the doubt, Steve knows one thing: you're there. You've always been there.

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"At the Chateau, We'll Be Alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional Inso from Joe's theater performance as in Spring Awakening. Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

[MULTI-PART SERIES] COMING SOON. Click here for a preview.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France. This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate. He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good. Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise. A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer. The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality. Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants. Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical. A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet. Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #mishas masterlists #oh so we do love steve #steve and bauman

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