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hyperfixat · 9 months

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MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! here’s the first chapter to a new multi part series i’m working on! it’s an isekai of honkai star rail. (sahsrau, sort of…?) ANYWAY!! enjoy,,, updates will be. idk maybe once a month so i don’t get stressed about pumping out chapters… this baby has been baking for a few months in the drafts already LMAO. likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3 and my reqs are perpetually open! 4.1K words.

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** Written PRE 1.4 – Any mentions of new characters is pure speculation and or headcannons.

Your dailys are finished and there’s no new content, so you decide to look for some hidden quests throughout the map. You’re sure you’ve collected all the chests on the Herta Space Station, but you use a teleport waypoint there anyway. Caelus (although that is not what you have named them,) sprints under your control, running against the invisible wall separating available land from unavailable land.

You click aimlessly, your character summoning their weapon of choice, a bat in this case, and attacking the blank divider. They hit it a few times, the animation sparking as they attacked the blank. It’s not like you’re expecting something to happen, although a person can hope, but then something does happen.

The office around you, where you’re playing on your PC blurs. You attempt to clear your vision with a few harsh blinks, but your vision only gets worse. It’s golden tunnel vision to your computer screen, the Trailblazer isn’t there, oddly enough, but that doesn’t quite matter at the moment, as you feel the world around you warp. Your body and soul, something you weren't even aware of, are pulled, nay sucked, into your screen. The screen, something that should be impermeable, gives way like nothing, like air.

Something as large as the human body should not be able to fit through your screen, but you do. Somehow you do.

It’s warm and hot and cold and freeing as it is oppressive.

You’re disoriented and confused, and for some reason you know you’re no longer alone and in your office.

Tentatively you allow yourself to move and lift your head. Instead of being seated on your desk chair, you’ve fallen into a heap in… is this one of the rooms in the Supply Zone? That.. that cannot be right. That’s in a video game and this is real life.

…Right?

What are you thinking about?! Of course this is real life, just a dream, yes, a dream. What are they called, lucid dreams? That makes sense, you’re lucid dreaming, even if you’ve never had one before, you’re lucid dreaming.

Well if you’re lucid dreaming, maybe you can have some fun? What do you do?

Fuck, you aren’t prepared for this.

Before you can think of something good someone moseys into the modern-style storage room you're in. Oh, hey, it’s the main character of Honkai: Star Rail, the game you were playing before falling into this lucid state. You want to greet them; you should greet them.

Wait, do you call them Caelus or the name you put into the game? Ah, wait, can you pause this?

“Huh? What are you doing in here?” Their voice sounds… well just like it does in game.

You hesitate, unsure of how to answer because you don’t know what you’re doing here. They wait for a reply, head tilting cutely as you think of a comprehensible answer.

“I’m… not sure.” You draw out the sentence as if by prolonging the words a better answer would appear.

Caelus walks closer to you, moving from the doorway to stand only a foot away holding out their hand to help you up.

“Are you lost? What part of the base are you stationed at? I know this place really well, I can help you find where you belong.” The confidence in their voice wanes, “Well, by your clothes…” their brow creases “are you from here?”

“Uh, I don’t, I don't know.”

They purse their lips, head tilting as they think. “Well, I don’t know who I should bring you to. You’re not a threat, at least not yet. Herta would be my first guess, but I don’t like her, and she might not even care or respond.” Another moment as they ponder, “let’s go find Mr Yang. He might be able to help jog your memory, or find out where you’re supposed to be.”

“Okay.” The walk through the station feels like a fever dream, though this is a dream, so that makes sense.

Caelus pulls open the heavy metal door to the Astral Express and holds out a hand to help you climb up inside. They don’t let go of your hand as you enter the passenger cabin.

“Mr Yang?” They call out, fingers readjusting over your own. Their hand is cool and comforting, realistic for a dream.

Welt Yang, sitting on the red curving couch looks up, setting down his book. His eyebrows raise when he sees that Caelus is not alone and is towing along a strange person dressed in even stranger clothes.

“Yes, Caelus? What do you need?” His eyes flicker between your faces before settling on Caelus’.

“This person, ah what’s your name?” They flush a pretty pink and turn to you, fingers flexing nervously around yours. When you give it to them, they repeat it aloud to Welt. “Is lost. How do we help them?”

Welt Yang frowns, a crease denting his forehead and he adjusts his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as he gives a low, thoughtful hum.

“What did Madam Herta say? You found them on her vessel.” Caleus rubs the back of their neck, a pink falling over his cheeks and tinting his ears.

“Well, I was hoping to avoid taking them to her…”

Welt doesn’t react, as if already knowing the answer. “Well,” his amber eyes meet yours. “What do you say to staying on the Astral Express for the time being? Of course, we’ll have to check with the conductor to make sure that’s okay.”

Caelus nods, their eyes narrowing as they think. “Do you think Ms Himeko might have an idea of how to jog their memory?” Their body shifts towards you as do their eyes, “in any case, we should find Pompom first, that’s the conductor.”

You want to say you know exactly who Pompom is, but that would sound odd from what should be a stranger, wouldn’t it?

Speak of the devil, Pompom comes waddling their body over to your gaggle. They aren’t as small as the game made them seem, maybe four feet of smooth fluff, and a content face.

“Hi Trailblazer, hi Welt, hi… Hi.” They pause and look up into your face, their features contorting, before they accuse you. “You aren’t a passenger!”

“Oh.” You don’t really know how to respond to that. Aside from acknowledging the obvious, they haven’t given you anything worthwhile to say. Before the silence can become too suffocating Caelus comes to the rescue, saving you from the critical look of the conductor.

“About that!” They give the creature a charming smile, putting their body between yours and theirs. “I was hoping my new friend could stay on the express until they can remember where their home is.”

So that’s why you’re staying, well staying til you wake, maybe wake. Fuck, you need a minute, well maybe once it settles in and you realize that you can’t escape, and don’t know how or why you’re here. Oh, you hope this is just a sleep deprived, very immersive deep sleep.

“Hmm,” Pompom shoves past Caelus’ legs to size you up. Their large, animal eyes make you melt, and you offer them a shy, nervous smile. “We’re out of rooms, but,” they turn back to Caelus, “if you or another passenger are willing to share, Pompom guesses they can stay.”

“Thank you, Pompom,” your smile widens a bit more. “But, maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to say that. I don’t know if anyone would want to share a room with me.” A breathy, panicky laugh leaves you, “I am a stranger here, after all.”

Pompom gives you one last, long look before shuffling away back to their rounds of the train.

“Hm, well, I understand where you’re coming from. But,” Caelus frowns and their eyes darken, going downcast, nervously. “I feel oddly connected to you. There’s more than one reason I didn’t take you to Madam Herta. I was hoping you might be able to stay on the Express, at least for a bit. So I could get to know you, a bit.” As your expression remains impassive, they’re quick to continue, taking hold of both of your hands. Their hands are large and warm, engulfing yours earnestly. “Please don’t get the wrong idea. I am trying to help you, however I can. Which is why I want to extend an invitation for you to stay with me, in my room.”

“Thank you, Caelus.” Warmth fills both your heart and face, both from the words and their touch alike. “I know you’re trying to help me, I truly appreciate it.”

They’re being so genuine, it makes you want to cry. How can you tell them this is all a dream, your dream at that. They aren’t even real, for crying out loud! The way they treat you makes you never want to wake up, stay so they can care for you, spend time with you. Would it be selfish to want to stay, to never leave, what would happen to your life if you never woke up, never left this dream (game, whatever it is now)?

You have the sudden urge to harm yourself, just for the sake of proving if this reality is just a dream or if some spatial temporal nonsense happened for you to get sucked into your PC’s game, turned real world.

The time you spend worrying cuts short when March 7th’s cheerful voice calls into the express. You hadn’t even noticed the metal screaming of the door as it was pried open.

“Caelus~ Help me convince Dan Heng to let us go back to the Xianzhou Luofu for some Berrypheasant Skewers and Immortal’s Delight- oh!” She’s spotted you. Her face lights up, an odd reaction, you think, upon seeing a stranger in what is essentially her home. “Hi there!”

“Hi,” you greet meekly, not used to being around someone so high energy. Not that you don’t like it, on the contrary she’s a very gregarious person, and the energy she brings makes you feel content.

“Caelus didn’t tell me they brought a guest!” March giggles. “It’s nice to see you, have we met before? I’d hate to think I’d forgotten your face.”

“No, you haven’t met me before.” It’s not a lie, you craft your words carefully. You know her though, very well, at that.

“Oh, well you can call me March 7th! What’s your name?” She fully enters the compartment now, the heavy train door slamming loudly behind her. She’s really pretty and cute in person, you wish that your mind could come up with any better words to describe her, but your mouth feels more than a little dry as she gets closer to you. You tell her, words sounding like mush, but she smiles and repeats it back to you, giving it a compliment.

She makes your heart stutter, and you smile at her, a little dumbly. Luckily Caelus seems sympathetic to your plight (going dumb at the sight of a pretty girl) and takes over explaining why you’re here.

“Memory loss, huh?” March pulls a sympathetic face. “I can relate. Well, you seem like a lovely person, and a friend of Caelus is a friend of mine, so my door is always open if you need to talk.”

Your deceit feels harsh, because you don’t have memory loss. Now March might try to bond over this perceived shared trauma, one that you don’t have…

March pats your shoulder in an attempt to soothe, a rush of her scent (solidifying this is more than a dream) fills your nose, fresh, clean, and sweet.

“Thank you, March, I appreciate it.”

“Anything for a friend!” March turns to Caelus, who lets your hands go as March engages them in a conversation. “Now, Caelus, help me convince Dan Heng to vote for Xianzhou Luofu on this week’s stop! I really want some of the local food.” She exaggerates the ‘really’ dramatically, making her eyes wider; the epitome of puppy dog style begging.

“Ah,” Caelus turns their head away, squeezing their eyes shut. “I already was planning on voting for Jarilo VI, and I’m pretty sure Dan Heng is dead set on his vote for another week at the space station.”

March sighs in disappointment, eyeing Welt as her next target before, “Wait! You’re officially a passenger now!” She is talking to you, “won’t you please vote for the Xianzhou Luofu as this week’s destination?”

The Xianzhou Luofu, you think about it. They don’t know that you know the place like the back of your hand, but it’s not like you have anything against the place. In fact, you’d rather not face the harsh cold of Jarilo VI so new to this world.

Oh, you shouldn’t have thought about that right now, the fact you’re stuck here for who knows how long, and you’re passively deceiving everyone you meet. Your knees feel a bit weak, but you manage to force an agreeable response to March.

“I’m feeling a bit tired, Caelus,” you grab their forearm to steady, “could I have a moment to lay down?”

“Oh shit,” they steady you, leading you to the couch, and helping you lay diagonally. Your eyes slip closed. Not caring about what you make yourself look like, you turn your face into the back cushion, tightening the harshness of how tight your eyes are closed.

Are you really stuck here? Is this more than a dream? Without fully realizing it, you drag your blunt nails over the length of your forearm. A soft, trembling gasp disguises the hiss of pain you make. Not a dream.

Fuck, not a dream.

You push your face deeper into the cushion, inhaling the scent of dust and fabric. The sensory input makes you even more certain this isn’t a dream. How do you go back to your world? Are you a missing person yet? What harm will come if you stay here, both to this world and your world? Do you tell them the truth?

How earth-shattering would it be to find out that your whole life is nothing but code? You are but a character built to entertain millions, any sense of individuality and personhood would surely fade. You can’t do that to them, can you?

But maybe it would help you get back to where you belong…

It hits you then, Welt Yang. Well, he doesn’t hit you. He’s still reading his book on the couch opposite to you. You’re no lore expert on any Honkai game except Star Rail, but he’s from like, another world as well, or something like that, right? Sure that world is another video game, probably, but alternate dimensions are alternate dimensions, right?

How would that conversation start? Hey Mr Yang, you’re a video game character and I’m from a different world, teehee can you help me figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now? Would he even believe you? Would you even believe you?

A warm hand rubs over your upper back, along your shoulder blades and vertebrae. Caelus, your heart stutters, a funny thing, at how you already know how much you’ll miss them.

“Do you want to use one of my Life Transmitters or a Healing Spray?” They offer their voice, kind and calm. “Or would something like Comfort Food be more to your taste right now?”

You move your face out of the cushion, “thank you, Caelus, you’re too kind. I’ll be okay, just… thinking.” Thinking of how this shouldn’t be real, how you’re too good to be real.

“Of course, let me know if you need anything. Anything at all, no matter how small.”

Caelus eventually left with March to pester Dan Heng, leaving you to revel in your confusing thoughts. After a few more minutes of lying on the couch, you steel yourself to face Welt Yang.

Thinking of his face is enough to make your hands clam up. Will he send you away and dismiss it as insane ramblings of nervous breakdown from one of Miss Herta’s overworked employees? He’ll believe you, won’t he? Surely a man of his caliber and experience can spot when someone is telling the truth, no matter how fantastical?

Pushing yourself up, you fight the tired and nerves that cling to you, and stand on unsteady legs. Welt looks up as you approach, folding the ear of the page he’s on and snapping the book shut.

“Uhm, Mr Yang, could we maybe talk in private?” Your voice sounds warbled, but if it’s more than a trick of your ears Mr Yang doesn’t let you know, instead offering you a reassuring smile and nodding.

“I will lead you to my room. No one will disrupt us there.” You’re glad he hasn’t questioned your intentions. Does he suspect you already and was unwilling to call you out openly?

Welt leads you down the sleeping cart aisle, maintaining a respectful distance from you the whole while.

He uses the handle of his cane to tap on his door handle, a jolt of pink-red magic and a click of the door’s locking mechanism and you are presented with your chance to talk to Welt Yang privately.

Welt’s eyes meet yours expectantly. You gulp.

“So. On a scale of one to one hundred how well would you react to me telling you this is a video game?” Yeah, and if this goes poorly you can pretend this was all a joke–!

Welt's previously curious harden into something more serious. “What?”

Ah fuck, nope, nevermind. “Hahaha.” It’s fake and painfully obvious to you both. “Sorry to bother you Mr Yang, I will see myself out.”

“No.” Welt positions himself between you and the exit. “Tell me.”

It’s hard not to spill the beans when those dark amber eyes bore into your very soul. And, you do.

You tell him how you got sucked through your PC and woke up in what should be simply pixels on your monitor. You tell him how you don’t know what to do and how he’s one of the only characters, well, you correct yourself, people, you thought might know how to help you.

Welt’s face is stoic and you purse your lips as your nerve filled ramble comes to an end. “How… odd.”

You’re sure it must be. Especially for him, learning he’s a game franchise’s tool, everything he’s done was all written out and predetermined by forces he has no hope to control.

Welt sits on the edge of his bed, cane used to steady himself. “I need a moment, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m the interloper here.” You kneel in front of him, trying to comfort the man in any way you can. After a brief hesitation you cover his hand with your own. Perhaps physical contact will bring some sense of consolation.

His brows are furrowed, but your touch lesses it minutely.

“Do you… want to go back?”

It’s a fair question, but you aren’t sure of the answer yourself. Because on one hand, being in this fantasy world with characters you like that treat you nicely is quite literally a dream come true, but on the other hand you have a life. Not anything important, you’re just a person. A person with friends and family and a job that all needs you.

You cannot be sure of how much time will pass before you can leave this world, universe, whatever. Is this even your real body? Is there an empty vessel sitting in your desk chair that will wither and decay while you explore the wide world of Honkai Star Rail? You are led to believe this is your real body due to the sensations that an artificial vessel wouldn’t feel.

But.

There are your favorite characters and they’re so so nice. So far.

Your inner turmoil must be showing on your face because Welt squeezes your hand, running his thumb over the back of your palm.

“I suppose a better question might be: are you comfortable staying in this world for a prolonged period of time?”

This time the answer comes easier, “yes.”

“That certainly makes things easier,” Welt relents.

“Do we tell anyone?” The question brings on another bout of quiet. You wet your lips, nerves still simmering from the confession you made.

“I think it would be best to keep it among the, how shall I phrase it, main characters?” Welt winces. “Who would they be? Me, if you know enough to confide in me, and who else?”

“Well, I don’t think you, the Express, like all the main characters, but,” you sigh, beginning to count off who you can think of. “Caelus, March, Dan Heng, you, Himeko, Sampo, Gepard, Serval, Bronya, Seele, Natasha, Luka, Blade, Kafka, Silver Wolf, Herta; maybe, Asta, Arlan, Jing Yuan, Yanqing, Jinglui, Loucha… There might be more, but they seem to be the most lore relevant and repetitive so far.”

“Yes, I imagine some conflict might crop up with that roster…” Welt thinks. The way his brow furrows and his legs spread (manspreading… drool) is subtly attractive.

Ah, the Stellaron Hunters. You can and will admit you want to see Blade and Kafka badly, but if it could result in… tension, would it be worth it in the long run? Just to satiate your thirst? They’re so imposing in the best way possible.

“Hm. Do you want to tell them?” Welt interrupts your little Kafka slash Blade slash you fantasy.

After a moment of mentally debating, you decide that, “yes, I do. All of them.”

“Very well.” Welt gives a reassuring smile, “I will support you in any path you may choose to take.” And if that didn’t make butterflies flutter all the way from the pit of your tummy up to your throat.

“If they were to ask; how am I going to prove myself? Is there something that can show I’m not from this world?” Sudden anxiety seizes you, will your favorite characters mock you? You’d die.

“There’s nothing to say they won’t believe you. You’ve convinced me after all.” It helps you stay calm, and you nod seriously. There’s another gap where neither of you speak.

“Who will we see first, do you know?”

“How about the whole Express has a meeting and we can decide from there, sound good?” Ah, that smile. A shot to the heart it is.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Yang.” Your face is hot when you say it, suddenly desperate to leave the room and cool yourself.

Oblivious to your sudden burst of attraction, Welt continues on. “Of course, always feel free to stop by my room. I’d like to extend an invitation as the others have, if you want to rest in my room, you’re welcome to.”

Rounding up the entire Astral Express doesn’t take as long as you expected it to. Himeko was in her room; and March, Caelus, and Dan Heng weren’t far from the loading deck; and Pompom is always on the Express.

“So.” You start, folding your hands together and looking at everyone around the table. They’re all watching you, and it’s really sort of scary, but you need to be brave. “I’m not from… here.”

Honestly they take the news well. Sure there were some questions, some you knew the answer to, others you are unsure of yourself.

“Is that why,” Caelus cuts themself off. “I feel drawn to you.”

“Drawn to me?” Your head tilts curiously, “could you expand on that?”

“I feel it too,” Dan Heng murmurs, eyeing Caelus. At this you lean back, furrowing your brows in thought.

“Oh?” March leans into Dan Heng’s seat. “I think I know what they’re talking about.”

“Something, emotionally, maybe, makes me want to be close with you,” Himeko speaks to you directly for the first time. “It’s like a tugging in my chest telling me to care about you.”

Ignoring the blatant rush of heat to your cheeks, Caelus expands on Himeko’s words. “Exactly. I can’t explain how or why, but I feel that you’re important, at least to me.”

Fuck, they’re going to make leaving so hard, won’t they? They can’t just say things like that.

“Oh.” Processing those words is hard.

Noting the way you’ve halted and your body language, March hovers a hand over your forearm, debating whether to touch you.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” She asks, already sounding let down.

“No! No, not at all. It’s just.” You laugh, not out of humor or joy, but something nervous. “If you guys say things like that I’m not going to want to leave.”

“What if we don’t want you to leave?”

“I think that’s a conversation for another day, Caelus.” Welt steers the conversation back on track; what you really came to ask: “Where are we stopping first?”

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#verified hyperfixat post #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #trailblazer x reader #welt x reader #march 7th x reader #dan heng x reader #himeko x reader #astral express x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #star rail x reader #sahsrau #sorta #isekai #honkai star rail isekai #tagging is hard

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hard-core-super-star · 11 months

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Hi rubix, love your writing btw!! so would I be able to request a wandanat x reader fic where it’s readers birthday and they don’t usually have time or people to celebrate with so Wanda and Nat decide to change that for this year and whisk her away to somewhere like Paris to celebrate and have a great time with some smut at the end 🫣

It’s my birthday in a few days and I’m in dire need of this 🤧

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: top!natasha romanoff x bottom!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: your girlfriends set out to make your birthday as memorable as possible.

warnings: smut -> minors, you know the drill, bye [threesome; smut so soft it borders on spicy fluff; like...one inch of plot; grinding; fingering [R receiving]; the daddy and mommy kink is implied but not explicit lmao; wanda's low-key a brat because...yeah :) ; clothed sex AGAIN because i think it's neat, okay?; cheesy ending...again]

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: hi, lovely anon, thank you for the kind words! i hope i'm not too late with this but either way, i hope you had a fantastic birthday! also, you get the honor of having requested my first ever wandanat fic so that's cool. this was my first time properly sitting down and writing for them so let me know what you think! i really hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“Guess what.”

You look up from the book in your hands to find two pairs of expectant eyes on you. You’ve seen your girlfriends wear many faces since you met them and yet it never fails to surprise you when you catch a glimpse of the genuine joy they wear around you.

The one that makes your heart skip several beats and earns them both teasing comments from the rest of the team.

“What?” You ask as your eyes flicker back and forth between them and the proud grins on their faces.

Wanda playfully rolls her eyes at you. “That’s not how the game works, detka.”

“Come on, go easy on her,” Natasha comes to your aid for once, a subtle hint that even she must be excited about whatever news they’re hiding.

“Yeah, what Nat said.”

You and the redhead share a look that draws a soft chuckle out of your girlfriend. “Remind me how I’m the one who spoils y/n again?”

“Can you stop stalling and tell me what you’re hiding already?”

Your question earns both a glare and a laugh before you’re finally given the answer you’ve been searching for. Your girlfriends may love you more than anything else in the world but that will never stop them from teasing you like their life depends on it.

“So impatient…yes, fine, we convinced Tony to let us borrow one of his stupidly fast jets for tomorrow.”

Two pairs of green eyes watch your reaction expectantly only to find your face twisting into confusion. “Why?”

There’s a beat of silence where they both stare at each other, silently trying to figure out how to proceed. Clearly, they weren’t expecting you to question the exciting news they had brought to you.

It happens in a flash.

One second you’re sitting alone in bed and the next, your girlfriends are on either side of you, contradicting touches landing on your arms. It’s strange how easy it is to tell them apart. How cautious Natasha’s fingers still are when they trace random patterns onto your skin compared to Wanda’s gentle pressure as trails down to grab onto your hand, unmistakable tendrils of red magic moving to put your forgotten book back onto the shelf.

Natatsha’s the first to break the silence, all her earlier playfulness gone and replaced by subtle concern. “y/n, it’s your birthday tomorrow.”

“So?” You shrug. “It’s just another day.”

Wanda tightens her grip on your hand and successfully steals back your attention. “Nonsense, malyshka. You deserve to be celebrated.”

“Guys, it’s not a big deal,” you assure them. “I really don’t need anything. Plus, I have too many things to do.”

“Not anymore.” A sweet kiss is placed on your lips before you can voice your complaints. “We’re stealing you away tomorrow.”

“But what about-”

“Already talked to Steve.”

“And-”

“Kate will understand.”

“How-”

“Stop looking for excuses, detka.” Natasha rolls her eyes as she pulls you closer to her. “You’re coming with us.”

You want to argue, you truly do, but then Wanda’s gluing herself to your side, eager hands slipping under your shirt, and you quickly come to the conclusion that spending all day with them is the best way to spend any day.

Including a birthday.

Especially since you’re more than used to treating it like every other day of the year. It’s not that you don’t like celebrating it, you’re just always too busy to make real plans and no one’s ever thought to surprise you before.

But of course, your girlfriends aren’t like anyone else.

Which is how they manage to get you onto one of Tony’s jets, reminding you of the existence of time zones and how you have to leave right now if you want to make it to your surprise destination on time. You don’t really mind either way but you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen them this excited about something in a while so you go along with them anyway.

The jet ride seems never-ending despite how fast the aircraft is supposed to be. It doesn’t help that you’ve been having trouble sleeping peacefully the past few nights and Wanda’s running a hand through your hair in the way that makes you melt.

“You’re allowed to go to sleep, you know?” Natasha whispers with a teasing smirk. “We still have a long while to go.”

“Whose idea was this again?” You grumble as you drop your head down onto the redhead’s shoulder.

“Don’t be a brat, love. You’ll thank us when we get there.”

You bite back the rest of your complaints and sink into the sweet arms of a dreamless sleep. You miss the way your girlfriends watch over you the entire time as well as the long list of things they each want to see and the various ridiculous ways in which they propose to get everything done.

They ultimately agree to let you choose once you’re awake again…something that backfires when the jet finally lands and you’re still far off in dreamland. They go back and forth on whether they should wake you or not, especially since it’s morning where you've landed and the jetlag will definitely destroy you.

You look far too cute to rouse though so Natasha gathers you up into her arms with ease and carries you in her strong embrace the rest of the way.

When you finally do wake up, a few hours have passed and you're safe inside the lavish hotel room Wanda reserved using one of Tony’s endless credit cards. The change in scenery startles your drowsy mind before you feel familiar arms pulling you close.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Wanda says softly as she easily pulls you onto her lap.

“Hi,” you mumble, tucking your head into the crook of her neck.

“Hi, darling. How's the birthday girl feeling? Still sleepy?”

“A little.” You let out a soft sigh as your girlfriend’s hands travel inside your loose shirt, slender fingers tracing random shapes onto your warm skin. “I’m sorry I ruined the trip.”

She scoffs and the sound instantly reminds you of Natasha which pulls a small smile onto your face. “You didn't ruin anything, detka. It's your birthday.”

You don't say anything in response and your girlfriend is quick to pull your thoughts away from their current trajectory. She keeps exploring your waist with one hand while the other one comes up to playfully tug on your hair.

“How about you stop hiding and look at your surprise, hm?”

It’s unclear whether it’s her words or her grip on your hair that makes you obey but neither of you mind. You reluctantly lift your face from its hiding place and let the green-eyed woman guide your gaze toward the large window of the room.

You gasp the second you realize where you are. “You guys brought me to Paris!”

Your excitement manages to break through your exhaustion which earns you a laugh from your loving witch. “Only the best for our girl.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe a little.”

You turn your head at the sound of Natasha’s voice, eager hands reaching out for her instantly. Your silent request is instantly fulfilled and the redhead easily slips into bed next to Wanda.

“I can't believe you would do this for me.”

“Believe it, malyshka.” She leans forward and easily captures your lips with her own.

Wanda huffs as she’s left out of the moment, her hands wandering under your shirt once again. You're too lost in the kiss to notice where her fingers are going until they brush against your nipples.

The sensation makes you jump which makes you grind against the witch’s thigh in a way that leaves you gasping for air.

“That’s cheating,” Natasha warns after she pulls away from you.

“What happened to spoiling the birthday girl?”

This time, you're the one who gets left out of the moment as they fight for the control that always rests in the Russian’s hands. They get caught up in their knowing stares and bruising kisses, leaving you aching and panting for their attention.

It’s a game they love playing with you but you’re far too desperate already to last much longer without their hands on you.

Thankfully, Wanda decides to take pity on you. She gives your hardened nipples a soft tug, smirking against Natasha’s lips when she feels your hips buck once more. “I think someone’s feeling a little needy.”

The redhead turns to look at you, a perfectly raised eyebrow painting her face with the stern humor you've come to know so well. “Is that right, kotenok? Are you feeling needy?”

You nod, all the heat in your body rushing down from your face to between your thighs. “Please don’t tease.”

“Aw, look at that, Nat. You're not going to deny her when she looks like that, are you?” You're not sure if Wanda’s actually being genuine or not but you don't really care as long as she’ll help you get what you want.

“Who’s the brat now?” She chuckles before reaching out for you, pulling you onto her lap, and leaving behind a pouty Wanda. “Come here, let me give you what you want.”

The Russian is true to her words and wastes no time in sliding a hand past the waistband of both your pants and your underwear. Your complaints about the lack of sink-on-skin contact between you are forgotten as Wanda situates herself behind you, plump lips trailing feather-light kisses up your neck.

A gasp tumbles out of your lips once Natasha’s fingers finally find your drenched cunt. She moves slowly, almost too slowly, but you already know she’ll be quick to remind you to be patient if you dare whine.

“You don’t have to be so cautious, detka,” Wanda whispers against your flushed skin. “It’s your birthday, remember?”

“Don’t listen to her, it’s always so much better for you when you’re a good girl.” She easily slips two fingers into your waiting hole, barely holding back a laugh as your pussy swallows her digits.

Your hands grip her shoulders for stability while they both work in tandem to make you lose the last bits of control you still have over yourself.

The witch’s hands find their way under your shirt yet again except this time she’s gripping your hips and helping you move in time with the redhead’s movements. It’s the slowest, most agonizing, of dances and yet the pleasure has you arching your back in seconds.

“Look at you,” Natasha coos, taking a mental picture of how delicious you look writhing in Wanda’s arms. “You’re so pretty when you’re like this, malyshka.”

Your walls clench the second you hear the affectionate petname and the Russian can’t resist the urge to lean forward and attach herself to your neck. Her thrusts are still slow and steady but then finally, her thumb begins to circle your puffy clit.

Your head falls back against Wanda’s shoulder and she laughs as you practically go limp from the pleasure. “You’re gonna break her, ‘Tasha.”

“She likes it.” She punctuates her point by curling her fingers just right and pulling out a string of moans from deep within you. “Don’t you, darling?”

“Mhmm, please don’t stop.”

They share a look you don’t see but you do feel the evidence of yet another standoff. It’s like Wanda just can’t stop herself from pressing all of Natasha’s buttons when they’re like this. Which means it’s your job as their devoted girlfriend to let them turn your pleasure into a competition.

And they do just that.

Wanda’s grip on your hips tightens until her nails are digging into your skin and she’s practically forcing you to ride Natasha’s fingers. Natasha, for her part, increases the speed of her thrusts, launching you closer and closer toward your orgasm. She’s still drawing it out of you, though, still balancing speed with soft kisses and murmured praises.

It’s a strange combination but it works perfectly. Just like your relationship with them. It’s something that transcends words, something that can’t be explained, merely felt…and it’s also exactly what brings you to the edge.

“Nat…please…”

“Please, what, detka?” Wanda responds for your girlfriend.

“Can I cum? Please?”

You half-expect them to make you beg for a little longer but it seems your special day has left them more merciful than usual. Natasha’s lips make their way up your neck and onto your jawline until she reaches your lips and gives you the permission you’re searching for.

“Go ahead, cum for us.”

You’ve heard the words thousands of times and yet they make you fall apart like nothing else. The slow build-up finally reaches its peak with one more swirl of Natasha’s thumb against your clit and you literally fall face-first into your orgasm.

“Such a good girl, love. Always so good for us.”

Your response comes in the shape of a muffled whine as you bury your face into the redhead’s neck.

The sound makes both of your girlfriends smile and Wanda moves to sit on Natasha’s other side while they wait for you to recover. “I guess we’re not leaving the hotel any time soon.”

“Are you complaining, Maximoff?”

“Shut up.”

Their bickering makes you giggle. “Wanda’s being a brat again, Nat.”

“I know.” The green-eyed woman turns her head to press a barrage of kisses against the side of your face. “I think that means she can’t join us in the shower.”

The comment draws another complaint out of the young witch and you happily rest in your girlfriend’s arms while they start up another playful argument you’ll eventually have to get in the middle of.

You don't mind though, there's no other way you'd rather spend your birthday than with them.

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ropes3amthoughts · 2 months

Text

Dungeon Meshi Subnautica AU. There’s no spoilers if you’ve finished the whole anime, but there are lots of spoilers if you haven’t played Subnautica. Do you guys see my vision?

This is some old DunMeshi Subnautica AU art and stuff. I was going to post this when I drew some more stuff, but this has just been sitting around in my camera roll for a while so I’m just gonna post it like this. These are like 2 months old and have some of the first times I drew like most of the characters so they’re not that good lmao maybe I’ll draw some newer versions some time.

Marcille likes seafood, but she doesn’t want to eat aliens. (She ends up eating the Peeper)

I made Izutsumi more fish-like so she could still have dynamic movements and such in the underwater setting. It got super blurry so here’s what the notes (from left to right) say:

“Think she’ll be more fishy to fit into the world better,” “Underwater. Floating,” “On land. Soggy,” “Swims like a fish,” “No room for bow :(“ “Gills,” “Still has claws also webbed hands,” “Flipper parts [are] white,” “Scales and fur! Not the best combo…” “Thick tail for swimming,” “Her feet are flatter like flippers.”

Some closeups because the quality sucks:

I imagine Senshi would be a Degasi survivor and have a greenhouse similar to Marguerit’s

Sea Dragon Falin 🔥

Very messy Reaper encounter idea. Loosely based on the “Ohh, hello, handsome man!” post. Don’t ask how they can all cram into a single Sea Moth just pretend it’s able to seat a bunch of people

Lmao I even started writing a fanfic about it. Here’s the description lmao:

Delicious in the Depths

Description: After the Aurora is destroyed and the Canaries declared they will not be making any recovery efforts, Laios has to take matters into his own hands to retrieve his sister, who had been onboard the Aurora when it had mysteriously blown up. With the help of Marcille and Chilchuck, the three are able to sneak onto 4546B in search of Falin. There’s only one problem: An alien weapon gunned down their ship and rendered them completely stranded on the alien planet, which consists of nothing but ocean for kilometers on end. (A Dungeon Meshi and Subnautica/Below Zero crossover)

I didn’t get very far in writing it but if y’all want me to like post it or something I can. This next thing isn’t the fanfic it’s just kind of a ramble on how the AU would work.

My kind of basic thoughts are that the party would function kind of the same as they in the DunMeshi universe, but instead of going into the dungeon they explore different planets. Falin would be on board the Aurora, which ends up mysteriously crash landing on planet 4546B. The Canaries (they take the role of Alterra) say that they don’t know what happened, but there won’t be a recovery effort because the planet is too dangerous. Laios decides he will find his sister when the Canaries refuse to make an effort and Marcille and Chilchuck join him. They end up crashlanding onto 4546B (sort of like Robin in Below Zero) and they would land in the Kelp Zone near the South of the map to put them closer to the Floating Island because that’s where they would find Senshi. They would find survivor recordings, some of which are from Falin, and try to track her down. The planet is full of mana, making revival possible, but it also harbors dangerous alien creatures (they are still the same creatures from Subnautica). I wasn’t quite sure how Thistle would work since having control over a whole planet is a bit more difficult compared to a dungeon, but I was thinking he could be a Precursor and he’s in charge of things like the Quarantine Enforcement. I also thought it would be cool if Falin was a chimera mixed with a Sea Dragon Leviathan, so I made that happen even though it doesn’t make much sense as to how it would happen. There’s so many characters in Dungeon Meshi, but Subnautica is very isolated, so I’m not so sure how Dungeon Meshi events would translate into the Subnautica universe. I guess a lot of people would be crashlanding.

If anybody likes Subnautica and Dungeon Meahi and has any ideas, feel free to share! I’d love to hear what you think!

The rest of this was anime safe, but this last part has Major Dungeon Meshi Manga and Major Subnautica spoilers:

Maybe the Winged Lion would be the Sea Emperor Leviathan but if she was evil then? He’ll lure the gang down and then try to leave the planet maybe and he needs to be stopped? The Winged Lion isn’t really evil, but he’s the antagonist, you know what I mean? Plus the way the ghosts communicate with Laios and the way the Winged Lion talks to Laios in that dream is kind of similar to how the Sea Emperor communicates with Riley. Or maybe the Winged Lion is somehow responsible for the Kharaa bacteria? I need to work on it still lmao

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Note

For your drabble reqs - I’ve been sitting on this for a hot hot hot second because imagining jimin’s crotch grinding on my ass and what could follow is turning me feral -

on your first date with shy Park Jimin, you both drink more than anticipated to take the edge off and end up getting a little too touchy feely on the dance floor.

☺️

MALLORYYYYYYY thank u for this lovely lovely req 🙆‍♀️ this was the perfect thing to shake the rust off!!! i hope you enjoy this one 💌

~taking jihope drabble requests all month!!~

pairing: jimin x reader wordcount: 1k exactly mmmm satisfying contains: alcohol use, first date, reader and jimin are a lil sloshed, horny thots are thunk, grinding on the dancefloor, jimin calls himself a slut lmao, jimin playing with her panties through her dress and getting hard, sooooo it's kinda semi-public i guess, mentions of begging and sub!jimin, going home on the first date..... think that's it!

~*~

Your drinks catch up to you on the dancefloor, all at once.

You’ve thrown them back like water tonight, faster than you normally would on a first date. But the man who’s sat across from you all night is intimidatingly gorgeous, not to mention sweet and soft-spoken and full of endearing little habits, like the way he pouted down into his own glass as he lifted it for a sip only to realize he’d already finished it.

Then he’d glanced up again as the empty glass tapped back down onto the table between you, his eyes just barely narrowing in a way that somehow managed to change his entire expression– made your stomach do a little backflip, too.

His voice was spun silk when he asked the question, dripped in something not quite innocent.

“Do you want to dance?”

What you hadn’t accounted for when you’d nodded your agreement and tried to will the flush of heat out of your face was the fact that dancing would mean getting even closer to Jimin. Dancing means his hands cupping the curve of your hips, warm through the thin fabric of your dress. You also hadn’t accounted for the way your liquor-soaked brain would take that spark and run a marathon with it, imagining those hands tangling in your hair, circling the buds of your breasts, slipping up your skirt.

There’s a steady pulse thudding in your core, in time to your heart and the bass of the speakers, and you swear the beat skips every time the flashing lights catch on an edge of Jimin: the full lines of his lips, the hoops sparkling diamond-bright at the corners of his jaw, the flicker of his lashes over the soft color bloom in his cheeks.

It’s too much. The space between your thighs aches, begging to be filled, and so you let your body lead. The room spins a little; you turn with it, Jimin’s hands fluttering at your waist.

You don’t know who initiates it– if you pressed back, if he pulled you in, or if the draw is all magnetism– but the space between your bodies narrows and then disappears. Your hips slot together, easy.

Something tells you the alcohol’s not to blame for the headrush buzz that hits you at the warmth of Jimin’s body under yours. The colors of the club smear together on the backs of your eyelids, and your lips part for a breath in when you feel his hips roll into yours like he knows what he’s doing.

And then his soft voice paints heat up the slope of your neck, and your eyes blink open again. “Can I tell you something?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter on your next exhale. The motion of his hips is steady now, a deliberate grind against the swell of your ass, a riptide threatening to drag you under. You make no attempts at resisting.

“I’m kind of a lightweight,” he admits, and you can hear that it’s true, his words sliding into each other. You can’t help your giggle, partially because you weren’t expecting his confession, and partially because, well– you’re feeling it too.

“That’s okay.” You do your best to reassure, speaking up to carry over the pulse of the music. “Me too, I think.”

“Can I tell you something else?”

Jimin’s voice sinks low into his chest when he asks the question, and the rumble of it vibrates through you like the thrum of a plucked string, underscored by his hips still rocking into yours. You drag your teeth over your bottom lip before you answer.

“Uh-huh.”

His nose grazes the line of your jaw, and you can hear the shy smile in his words when he speaks again.

“I’m also kind of a slut.”

Your breath hitches in your chest and you wonder if Jimin feels it. It’s so dark, your bodies pressed flush– it’s hard to keep up with where you end, where he begins, his tight black t-shirt and jeans blurring at the edges of your little black dress.

“That’s more than okay,” you finally manage, and you feel him dig just a little deeper into where he has you, gripping tighter at the line of your waist, as if making a promise of what’s to come.

“Yeah?” Jimin purrs.

You let your body answer him, let your hands slip over his to guide them lower, a slow tease. It’s easier to ask without words, your head dropped back against his shoulder, his fingertips seeking out the v-line of your panties through your dress, tracing the lace edge.

There’s no question that the crotch of his jeans has filled out now; you can feel him straining against denim, an insistent bulge at the curve of your ass. When you roll your hips in a circle, it earns a soft moan in your ear, one you could easily return at the wet drag of your thong when Jimin tugs at the fabric, rubbing a taste of friction just right over your clit. It lights your body up, a live fucking wire, and you need more than what you can get away with on this dancefloor.

“Anything else you want to tell me?” you murmur up to the ceiling.

Jimin’s mouth is hot when he presses a tongue-first kiss to the hinge of your jaw, then takes your earlobe between his teeth before answering. “Your body is driving me crazy. Wanna… fucking beg for it.”

“Shit,” you can’t help groaning, reaching a hand up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. You feel him stiffen all over when you tug a little, swear his dick even jumps in his pants. “I’d love to see you down on your knees, Jimin.”

“I’ll be so good for you,” he outright whines, and you tighten your grip, arching your back to better rut yourself against him.

There’s only one question left to ask, it seems, and you can’t wait a second longer.

“Your place or mine?”

#jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #min-yoongigenius #mbox 📮#jihope month 🌹#jihope month drabbles 💌

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creatingblackcharacters · 1 month

Note

Sort of on the topic of fantasy racism? I was wondering if you would have thoughts on this thing I’ve been thinking about.

I’ve always loved running orcish characters in DnD, right up next to Halflings. I love taking the extremes of certain styles of play, and I also like subverting them. It’s probably also important to note that none of my games I was in really leaned into fantasy racism as a part of the stories, everyone kinda just was who they were.

Recently, I’ve been thinking about creating an online avatar for myself, sort of in the style of those elves and demons and animals and such that people tend to do, for use in interacting with people on my art blog.

My first thought was to sort of take a combination of my favorite characters from the past, so I got to drawing and I eventually came up with a orcish wizard woman, since I felt like that fit, especially with sort of the feel of being tall and a little bulky compared to the people around me, but still wanting to be pretty and feminine without feeling like I need to lose the strong parts of myself.

But then I started getting to worrying, because, well, I know in the past orcs used to be sort of a black stand in, and definitely in a bad way at first, just sticking the racism of the time into a book with POC as the evil green people, as game makers were prone to doing. More recently there has been more love for fantasy races and fantasy as a way to explore and understand racism, of course, and I guess a large part of me isn’t quite sure how that stereotype has aged or what it has become.

Because I’m not black, is the thing. I’m technically mostly Hispanic, but frankly for all intents and purposes I just look white. And so I’m wondering if either 1: Making my online avatar an orc would be tantamount to (fantasy?) blackface or 2: acting like that in and of itself is the racist thing, and that I should be assuming no current social correlation between fantasy orcs and real life people.

All in all, I’m thinking I’ll probably stick with something less worrisome/socially complicated like a golem or an elemental or something (other things I have enjoyed creating characters for) but I just saw one of your previous asks and it inspired me to reach out and ask for your thoughts and see if maybe there’s some context you could provide on the topic.

This is a hard one for me, because I feel like I can't give the "right" answer. On the one side, yes, historically orcs are Black & Indigenous savage caricatures written by white men. There's no getting rid of that, and people are always going to rightfully feel offended. On the other side, if people are trying to do better by orcs and give them more backgrounds and stories and treat them less like racist cannon fodder, could there be a change in the character as a whole within the D&D community? Maybe! I do feel like such a cultural shift en masse should be led by Black and indigenous fans, though. Can't reclaim a slur that was never targeted at you, and all that.

I feel like saying that having an orc as your pfp is "blackface" means that you (general) actually see the orcs as Black people. No, no one should look at your pfp and say "they're pretending to be Black!" Because we don't look like that. We don't "identify" with orcs. Now, people who are more intense about it being a racist caricature may come at you, and they have an argument there! But "blackface"... No. Think of it like this; if you posted a jim crow lip caricature as your pfp; I'm not gonna think "oh they're pretending to be Black" but I am gonna think "oh they're a racist" lmao. But from how you've described your character, I doubt I'd think that off rip.

It's up to you, to be honest. If you're passionate about orcs, and you want to explore their humanity and give them a better rap, then do that! But educate yourself, and be prepared for some people to be uncomfortable with your actions, or to disagree.

#creatingblackcharacters #ThatsJustTips

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cozymochi · 7 days

Note

For the TWST ask meme (if you haven't answered these ones already and I missed it) Favorite NRC staff member? Is there any character who seems to follow you (i.e. they always seem to pop up when you're trying to summon someone else)?

13. Favorite NRC Staff Member

SAM!!! I tried practicing drawing him the other day because I never actually did. Mostly for like a really arbitrary reason regarding whether or not to follow his JP appearance. Elements were removed for a reason I’m sure, even if it was possibly a case of over-correcting (see use of the word “master” being danced around, but don’t quote me I am merely speculating, especially because there is no official explantation behind why and never will be- I can speculate all I wanna but I think I will just do my own digging on my own time), and on that end I kinda got left in an awkward position lol. A part of me was experimenting with a compromise of sorts, but we’ll see how that goes, assuming I do it at all.

Besides, there’s allure in having less to draw lmao

Don’t mind the terribly off model exercises, I was just getting a feel. BECAUSE I WANNA USE HIM he’s kind of a big obvious elephant in the room for anyone who like reaaally cares about my little MC (*cricket noises*) and I have answers, but I wanna go crazy properly. (Granted, I haven’t really drawn any of the staff rip. BUT UNLIKE SAM, I have no reasons. See? Im uncool.)

I still wanna know more about him. But I guess I’ll have to wait until mmmmmm around next year maybe for [JP SPOILERS REDACTED].

8. ANSWERED

#cozy ask #twstposting #Like… i think i know why? but i also could be taking a huge leap. though my gut is claiming its probably over-correction.#much like a lot of the other changes made on EN.#tho that would involve going into a whole essay about the source movie the villain and his dwindling appearances over the years blah blah #media dadadada its a whole thing i dont feel like doing it.#BUT SAM YOU ARE FOREVER THE GOAT

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 1 year

Text

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia - Chapter 2: A Mere Lady (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 2: A Mere Lady

Daemon has returned to King’s Landing. Yet it is not in his nature to sit idle.

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

Warnings: That extreme slow burn once more lmao, Daemon being an idiot, Westerosi sexism, mention of violence, Daemon and Y/N bickering like children again

Word Count: 2.9k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: Thank you for all the support for the first chapter of Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia! It really warms my heart to see all your reblogs and likes 💗 this chapter is a bit of a filler one, but something big will happen next chapter (can you guess what it is? 👀) I hope you enjoy reading!

wonderful dividers courtesy of @firefly-graphics !

The shadows darkened and the bustle of noise in the Red Keep slowly faded into a faint hum as night enveloped the castle. I had just finished drawing up and helping Aemma into a bath when a maid announced the presence of King Viserys. I hurriedly rose from where I was preparing the Queen’s nightclothes and curtsied. “Your Grace.” Viserys merely waved away my greeting, putting a hand on my shoulder. “At ease, Y/N. We are not in the presence of other courtiers, you need not refer to me by my title.” I smiled fondly at Viserys. “Well, if my king commands it. Are you here to see Aemma? She is in the midst of her nightly soak” Viserys’ brows furrowed, “Of course. How has she been? Are the baths of any help?”

“Aemma says it is effective to a degree, but the moment she steps out of the bath, the aches return.” Viserys hummed in acknowledgement; “Looks like our son is taking quite the toll on my beloved. He must be an active lad.” My smile widened at that: Viserys’ pride in his unborn son was clearly strong. But my smile dropped when I heard Viserys’ next words, “Have you had a chance to run into Daemon by any chance, Y/N?” I chewed hard on my lip at his question, making Viserys raise his eyebrows and laugh at my obvious distaste for his younger brother. “I will take that as a yes. Are the both of you still having trouble getting along?”

“We get along about as well as fire and oil, I’m afraid.” Viserys let out a huge belly laugh at that, “And who is the oil in this situation, you or Daemon?” “Daemon,” I answered without hesitation. “Seven hells, I have no doubt his love for provoking me is fueled by the gods themselves.” Viserys looked amused, “Well, as your king, I am pleased to inform you that I have listened to your petitions and assigned him back to his old post at the City’s Watch. Mayhaps he will cease annoying you with this new responsibility.”

“I thank you for your graciousness, Your Grace,” I curtsied slightly. “Your justice is indeed swift and efficient.” “Well, a king must care for his subjects above all else. And you are like a sister to me.” Viserys patted me on the shoulder, “I must go and check on my beloved now. A King must not keep his Queen waiting after all.” I nodded and turned back to my duties as he ambled away.

The morning sun lazily clambered up the sky, causing the Red Keep to begin to bustle about with noise once more. A servant helped me lace up my new Tyrell green gown, with small gold rocaille prints dotting the bodice and gold roses stitched throughout. Autumn had fallen upon King’s Landing, and the air was beginning to fill with a biting chill, hence my father had ordered the dressmakers to design the dress with fitted long sleeves. I was a little uncomfortable, since I was unused to dresses with fitted sleeves, but it did make it easier for me to tend to Aemma.

I cast a glance at the fireplace. The flames had long died out, but in the midst of the charred black wood, I could see the remnants of parchment. The new dress from Father had not arrived without condition. I had not bothered to read the letter - knowing it would be full of eligible lord names and pleading from my father to just pick one and put him out of his misery - instead chucking it into the fire without a second thought.

“My lady?” Blinking, I looked up at the servant girl. “I am finished with your hair. Are you in need of anything else?” I studied my reflection in the vanity, patting a stray strand of hair down gently. “No, everything is fine. You’ve done a wonderful job. Thank you, Rebecca.” She smiled and curtsied before scurrying off. I put on my favourite pair of gold earrings, checking my reflection one last time before striding out of my chambers.

Aemma was never an early riser, and pregnancy fatigue had only served to prolong her hours spent in bed, hence I always took this opportunity to wander around the Red Keep while undertaking any errands assigned to me at the same time. After making an errand run to the washerwomen to pick up Aemma’s clothes, I bustled over to the Grand Maester’s quarters to request for the Queen’s medicinal teas. I also paid a visit to the seamstress to get a few garments of Aemma’s altered, as she had complained about them being too tight around her bump.

With my list of tasks fulfilled, I breathed out a sigh of relief. Aemma had yet to rise, hence I was wandering aimlessly around the hallways. It was then that I heard a few lads whispering as they passed me. “Did you hear about Prince Daemon’s latest exploits?” “Aye, I heard the smallfolk’s cries all the way from Flea Bottom in my quarters last night. The king has summoned him to the Small Council meeting this morning to demand answers, I’ve heard.” “The prince truly cannot go a day without causing trouble…”

Curiosity piqued, I listened thoughtfully to their conversation until their voices faded away. Daemon? Causing trouble? There was nothing novel of the matter. Yet, the lads had whispered about hearing the cries of the smallfolk. And from what I heard, it did not seem like the cries that Daemon was fond of eliciting.

My nosiness getting the better of me, I turned on my heel, my green skirts swishing behind me. Arriving at the base of the White Knights Tower, I slipped inside a room before anyone could notice and question my presence. The room in question was a secondary armoury, but it was rarely used as the weapons stored here were either blunted after years of use or outright broken. I pushed aside a false pillar made of highly porous stone, revealing a narrow gap which I squeezed through with ease.

Pulling back the pillar to cover the gap once more, my eyes trailed around the expanse of the space as I found myself in a familiar winding hallway. Sunlight poured in through numerous crumbling holes in the ceiling, and the air was filled with a dank smell. Sneezing slightly, I gathered my skirts and quickly made my way through the familiar maze of passageways. I nearly forgot to take a left, almost ending up in the secret halls in the Tower of the Hand, but I retraced my paths and breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the Hand’s disdainful voice. Here, the passageways were much more spacious and bright, being situated on the upper floors of Maegor’s Holdfast.

Peeking through one of the spaces in the walls, I caught sight of the Small Council seated around the table. Daemon was sitting near the head of the table still clad in his armour, his face streaked with dirt. Unfortunately, his back was turned to me, so I couldn’t glimpse his expression. However, I noticed most of the lords were looking noticeably on edge, especially the Hand. Otto’s face was even more unpleasant than usual, and that was saying something.

By the Gods, what had Daemon done now?

“You might not know this unless you left the safety of the Red Keep, but much of the city is seen by the smallfolk as lawless, and terrifying.” Daemon’s smooth voice echoed throughout the room. Otto’s face turned as sour as spoiled milk. I had to restrain a snort, he was not incorrect, the residents of the Red Keep, particularly those of noble blood, were very far removed from the lives of the smallfolk. I had once ridden with Rhaenyra and Alicent to the Dragonpit, passing by the streets of Flea Bottom, and safe to say, I was very glad for my life of luxury in the Red Keep, although I did feel sorry for them.

“...I just hope you don’t have to maim half of my city to achieve this.” “Time will tell,” came Daemon’s response. Even with my view of his facial expressions obstructed, I could nearly picture the smirk on his face, clear as day. I rolled my eyes. It seems that Daemon’s first night returning to his duties as commander of the City Watch had been bloody, to say the least.

“If only the prince would show the same devotion to his lady wife as he does to his work, your Grace.” I snapped to attention once more, eyes keenly observing the proceedings through the space. Gods be good, the Hand cannot give it a rest, can he? I suppose he could not: his distaste for Daemon clouded him from better judgement. But he should know better, I bit my lip to restrain the laugh I know would follow. Daemon always knew how to find someone’s sore spots, and Otto Hightower was as prickly as those strange Dornish desert dwelling plants.

“I’d gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hightower, if you are in want of a woman to warm your bed,” Otto’s face lost its previous smugness as his eyes grew wide in anger and he stiffened at Daemon’s remarks. “Your own lady wife passed recently-” There was a scraping of a chair on the floor as the Hand towered over the table. I recognised the expression on his face, it was one I had worn many times in my life.

The visceral urge to punch Daemon Targaryen in the face.

I clapped my hand over my mouth, trying to fight the battle to keep my laughter at bay

“Did she not?” I lost the battle as a small wheeze erupted from my covered mouth. My eyes widening, I watched as the men at the Small Council table stiffen, particularly Daemon - his stance suddenly became more pronounced and alert. I know it would be hard to discover me unless the men had knowledge of the secret passages, yet I felt my heart thundering in my chest.

But the gods were good, and the men soon dismissed the sound as Viserys attempted to soothe Otto’s anger. Finally, after Viserys admonished Daemon for his actions- albeit not as fiercely as the Hand would have hoped for, judging by how his sharp glare had not subsided in the least after the king’s judgement - Daemon got up to leave, the doors shutting behind him with a definitive thunk. I dusted off my skirts and readied myself to leave as well. The excitement was over, and I had gotten the information I wanted to know anyway. Walking through the hallways again, I debated on which path I should take to ensure my exit would not be noticed by anyone. The nearest exit I knew was immediately out of the question, and I could not sneak out through the exits in any of the royal apartments, because there was an ever-present risk of being discovered by a nosy servant. Sighing, I continued walking, lost in thought, until a figure pushed me against a wall.

I opened my mouth to scream but a hand that smelt of sweat and something coppery covered my mouth, putting a finger to his lips. My eyes narrowed as he released his hand from my mouth. “What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?” I spouted out angrily as those godsforsaken pair of lilac eyes stared down at me with amusement. “I think I should be asking you that, byka zaldrīzes,” Daemon raised an eyebrow.

“I asked first. How did you even know I was here?” I grumbled, dusting off my dress. The pounding in my chest was so loud I was certain the whole of the Red Keep could hear how much of a terrified wreck I was.

Instead of answering, Daemon reached his hand out to brush at my hair, as I observed him with wary eyes. Then, he flicked my forehead. “Ow! What was that for?” He smirked, “I see you took the armoury entrance, judging from the grime on your face and in your hair.” “And? It was one of the only ways I could get into the passageways without being seen.”

The prince hummed infuriatingly under his breath. “Has anyone ever told you how fond you are of making your life more difficult, byka zaldrīzes?” “Well forgive me, your Grace, but I do not wish to be caught in your apartments trying to sneak into a secret passage. The Red Keep is akin to a vicious beast when it comes to gossip.” The prince let out a triumphant “ha!” as I looked quizzically at him. Had he finally lost his mind?

“Formalities again,” he said, delighted, “I was hoping that yesterday’s episode in the throne room was not the last I would hear of you addressing me formally.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “My question remains unanswered. How did you know I was in here?” The prince snorted. “I think every one of those lickspittles in the small council heard your laugh. I was the only one to recognise it however.”

I huffed. “Well thank the gods it was just you. Had it been the Hand-”

“That cunt is too busy licking my brother’s boots to seek you out, byka zaldrīzes,” Daemon teased, beginning to walk away. Rolling my eyes once again, I followed closely after. “I’m surprised you still remember the entrances. I was of the impression you would get lost if you ever came here again..” “From how many times you dragged me through these hallways to go catch a peak of King Jaehaerys and Prince Baelon in council sessions, it would take me a century to forget these halls.” I japed, as we rounded a corner that took us straight into an old closet in Daemon’s chambers. As we stumbled out, he settled down on his bed with a sigh of relief, and began to remove his armour. I crossed my arms as I leaned against the window, “There is still a lady here, your Grace.” “I don’t see any ladies, only a nosy bird.” “Hilarious.”

I averted my eyes as Daemon began to remove the gold cloak slung behind his shoulders. “I heard you crippled half the smallfolk.” “An exaggeration,” Daemon waved his hand dismissively. “And if so, they were criminals. Looters. Rapers. Petty thieves.” “And yet, you killed numerous innocents in your path to slaughter those criminals.” I said quietly.

Daemon was silent for a while, and I thought he had left to take a bath. But I was startled yet again when I felt a finger softly tilting my chin upward. Lilac eyes swirling with mild annoyance and mirth met my pensive (Y/E/C) ones. “Spare me the reprimand, Y/N. My brother and Lord Cunttower have already said more than enough.” He handed me a wet cloth, and I sighed before brushing it across his face, getting rid of the grime. Our dynamic has not changed since childhood, I mused internally. I walked away to dump the grime covered cloth in a basket for the servants to collect later.

“Do you not agree with my actions?” He motioned me to sit next to him on his bed. Wordlessly, I sat. Our eyes met, his searching mine for my reaction. “The violence was unwarranted,” I began delicately, watching Daemon’s eyes narrow. “However, I’d like to think the ends justify the means. I share Lord Corlys’ view on this matter.”

Daemon leaned back on his bedpost with a smile. “As I thought, you were more sensible than you looked.” His voice rose in volume as he ran a hand through his white blonde locks in frustration. “Pray tell, I just do not understand why my brother only sees the bad, and not the good. Even a mere lady like you could understand. Has that cunt of a Hand pulled the wool over my brother’s eyes so far that he is blind to the welfare of his city?”

Not receiving a response, he looked over at the Lady Tyrell. She sat there, eyes fixed to the ground, her mouth set in a thin line, her hands clasped in her lap. “Y/N?” “And begging your pardon, what exactly does ‘being a mere lady’ supposed to entail?”

Daemon had a slight hunch he might have made a mistake. “I was not implying anyth-” “Really?” Y/N interrupted sharply. “Or did you just consider my wits inferior to yours simply because I am a woman?”

She stood abruptly, curtsying as she did. “Forgive me, my prince, I have other matters to attend to. If you have had enough of this mere lady’s presence, I shall be off lest a servant discovers us and sets tongues wagging.” She walked briskly out of the room, before Daemon could even formulate a response. Daemon stared at her retreating figure, and he groaned in frustration as he removed the last of his armour. His words had come out unintentionally, and he had not intended to insult her. Why was she so offended by them?

He huffed as soon as he had the thought. Why was it of any concern? He cared not for what that annoying brat thought of him. Sighing, he got up to ready himself for another visit to Flea’s Bottom. He had not seen Mysaria for a time.

translation: byka zaldrīzes: little dragon

And that’s chapter 2! Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :)) Since chapter 2 was a little bit of a filler chap, chapter 3 should hopefully be released in about three days (as soon as I get that presentation that has been the source of my torment over the past few days on Tuesday done lol) Let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! 💗

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish

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choccy-milky · 8 months

Note

Bro I’m kicking my feet in the air! The new chapter was so FREAKING GOOD!!!!

I’ve said this in the past but I LOVE the way you write Anne, ominis and the general fluff for this story and I can’t even begin to talk about your art and how much I smile when I see you post ❤️❤️❤️

10/10 I missed our normal pink flag Sebastian

BAHAHA AW TYY💖💖IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT💖 i love writing all of their dynamics not just clora and sebs, so im glad you like that as well 🥹tysm again🥹 and fr between my dark relic comic and my relic!seb art i been missing him too, all hail the return of the SLIGHTLY red flag/pink flag boi 🚩🩷🏳️🩷🚩

oh god idk LMAO. the climax is gonna be happening in the next 1-2 chapters, and then after that its gonna be summer stuff / epilogue with a bit of seb and clora as curse-breakers and what thats like, but i have no idea how long itll be BAHAHA, i am starting to get a bit self-conscious about the word count and how big my fic is tbh LMFAO so im glad youd be fine if it went on forever LOOL💖💖

@oneofafew NO BAHAHA THEYRE NOT RELATED AT ALL, I DIDNT REALIZE THERE WAS ALREADY A LAWLEY IN THE GAME LMAO, maybe he can be his uncle or some shit, bc the lawley in the game is also an asshole. its funny too, bc when me and hogwartslegacypics were trying to find out what bully boi's ACTUAL name was by looking in the audio files of all the NPCS, we saw a "lawley" and i started freaking out i was like OMG IF I ACCIDENTALLY GUESSED HIS NAME RIGHT THATD BE AMAZING🤯🤯 but alas........no. no relation LOL

@slytherinsomniari IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT, TYY💖 and for the anatomical parts u mean the x-ray stuff? tbh its just a trope/thing that happens in hentai manga which is where a lot of my reference/inspo comes from when i draw nsfw stuff, and i always liked it, so i included it into my own art. as for how i can tell when theres too much....well there are certain sites you can always go to to watch an actual video to see what a 'normal' amount is, but WHO CARES IF ITS REALISTIC OR NOT I SAY, ITS ALL KINKY FANTASY SHIT, WHO NEEDS REALISM💪

@4ever2000lover LMAOO IF IT WAS UP TO SEB CLORA WOULD BE PREGNANT 24/7 I SWEAR TO GOD (until he realizes that means they cant bone as much) but tbh i actually only plan to make them have 2 kids, a girl first whos fiesty and a tomboy and takes after seb, and then a more softspoken boy who takes after clora🥰

#ask #i wanna turn on anons again but also i never realized how anxious i was of anon hate until i turned them off LOL #dont wanna make it sound like i was getting anon hate tho i wasnt 99.9% of all my anons were always lovely #im just easily anxious so it only takes 1 meaner one to make me all blehhhh #still will turn them on soon since as an anxious person i ALSO understand not wanting to send anything unless its anon LOL even if its nice

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ultrabean · 2 months

Text

Small life update.

Well, I start college tomorrow! Yippee! Well, sort of. It’s a 10 month program before I start the actual 4 years of education. I’m not sure what I’m gonna be majoring in yet, but I’m leaning to something along the lines of engineering. Don’t know what kind of engineering yet though.

Aside from that, if you didn’t know from the tablet-wiping debacle from a month ago, the device I use to draw technically isn’t 100% mine. It’s still very much at the mercy of my dad. Recently though, there has been an interesting development. He disabled the password on it.

Now what does this mean for Redeemer’s path and the rest of my art? Probably nothing! In fact it’s likely the release schedule is going to be the same as it was. The reason for this is my dad wants me to learn control over my impulses, which is pretty fair all things considered.

I guess it’s also another thing I’m worried about. Now that I’m kind of a college student, I’m largely expected to do a lot of learning on my own. No teachers to hold my hand or whatsoever. It’s up to me to actually put in the hours to study. So I’m basically supposed to control my urges to constantly check notifications on tumblr, discord and also doodle in lectures. The problem is? I am kind of TERRIBLE at that.

I suppose it’s because I tend to have a bad habit of escapism? Or it could also be a number of other factors affecting me. One of them being I guess my brain craves dopamine too much.

Point is: I’m anxious, in case you couldn’t tell lmao. I really don’t know what’s going to happen in the next 10 months, whether I can actually control myself and not disappoint my parents constantly. I have no idea how I’m going to pull it off, but then again, they say worrying doesn’t help.

I don’t really know what else to say but i hope it goes well. To those of you who read this, thanks and have a nice day, wherever you are.

Goodnight y’all. 💙

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freeuselandonorris · 8 months

Note

☰ for Monday, with the “who did this to you” trope? Love your fics <33

(from the fic ask game)

HI ANON i am so sorry this has taken me a million years to answer, i started weirdly overthinking it??

my understanding of the ‘who did this to you?’ trope is it’s very hurt/comfort-centric, which is not a genre i write very often (hence probably why i overthought this for so long lmao).

if i was to approach a remix of monday from this angle i think i’d like to do it from lando POV and explore more of why he’s so insecure and why it takes him so long to trust that oscar genuinely really likes him and isn’t just looking for a quick fuck to take the edge off. there’d be more of a focus on lando’s past relationships and in particular how he went from being a slightly nerdy kid (like, he looked twelve until he was about twenty) to suddenly being a millionaire heartthrob with a huge social media following. but he also self-describes as a simp (in the lando norris vs slang video) and clearly wants to be in a “real” relationship rather than just fucking about, so i’d look at what happened to him to make him so cautious with his heart.

proooobably this would end up with past dando or carlando? i have a mild aversion to carlos so i’d probably go for fuckboy daniel ngl.

i think it’d take oscar quite a long time to actually get round to asking lando what happened — partly because he’s got a bit of an attitude of “well, lando will tell me in his own time if it’s important to him” but also because there’s a bit of him that doesn’t really want to know, especially because he’s got a pretty good idea it involves another driver. he’d probably bring it up pretty idly, in the end — lando would make some veiled comment about how netflix would have creamed their collective pants if they’d known the half of it while oscar’s scrolling past DTS trying to find something to watch, and oscar would very casually… actually, y’know what.

Lando feels Oscar go still next to him and mentally kicks himself. Might’ve known Oscar wouldn’t let that one drop.

“So are you, like.” Oscar wets his lips and shifts on the bed, curling up so Lando’s tucked further into his chest. Lando presses himself back, drawing Oscar’s arm around him. “I dunno. Did something happen? With Dan.”

Lando closes his eyes, considers his options. It’s tempting to squirm back against Oscar’s body, press his arse into his crotch and slip Oscar’s hand under the hem of his T-shirt until he forgets the line of questioning, forgets he was saying anything at all. It’s mad, really, the way he responds: Lando only has to pull his shirt up, bite his lip a certain way, and he’ll have Oscar distracted and reaching for him, even now. It’s been months. Lando’s experienced it before, that first flush of desire when he can use his body to control how someone feels about him. It rarely lasts, though, once the novelty wears off.

Which is sort of the point.

He sighs, aware it sounds a bit huffy, and picks up his phone so he can flick through his notifications while he speaks. “I mean, I guess? It was just stupid, though.”

Oscar breathes behind him, slow and deliberate. He hums into Lando’s hair, strokes a thumb over the ticklish spot on Lando’s waist, the dip just above the ridge of muscle that delineates his hip.

Lando swipes through notifs from Discord, Instagram, iMessage, WhatsApp, Reddit, Sky Sport. Dismissing each without seeing it. He laughs, and it comes out all wrong, harsh in the back of his throat and defensive. God. Wet as fuck. “It was just — I mean, he was fucking miserable, you saw him. So I guess he just wanted a pick-me-up, y’know.”

“Right,” Oscar says, voice unreadable. He’s so fucking blank sometimes. Lando fights the urge to turn round and scrutinise his face, opens his emails instead and starts deleting anything that doesn’t look vital.

“He said,” Lando says, aiming to deliver it as a joke. “‘I’m straight, but I bet you suck dick like a girl anyway’. Like. What does that even mean?”

Oscar’s thumb stills, just for a moment, then resumes its slow path. “I know that’s offensive, but I can’t tell if it’s sexist or homophobic or both.”

Lando makes a disgruntled sound of agreement. “Yeah, well, whatever. It was — whatever. Wasn’t anything.”

“You said,” Oscar says mildly. “But I can see why you’d… Why it’d make you cautious.”

Lando sighs. Thinks of Luisa, showing him screenshots, her face streaked with tears. Watching the comments roll in, badly spelled threats he didn’t even bother reporting. The way Carlos never quite relaxed around him once people started tagging them in stupid ship videos. Googling how do you make someone sign an nda locked in an unfamiliar bathroom, mouth sour with vodka, head spinning. Waking up at 5am in lockdown, Max hyperventilating next to him. The girl from Raya he’d sent flowers to, trying to do the thing properly and be romantic, only to find she’d blocked him ten minutes after he got the Your package was successfully delivered email.

“It wasn’t him,” Lando says, locking his phone and putting it face down on the nightstand. He turns, tangling his legs between Oscar’s and leaning in to nip at his jaw, breathing in the familiar smell of Oscar’s basic aftershave. Oscar's arms tighten around him. His cheeks curve into a smile beneath Lando's mouth. “It doesn’t matter.”

#hopefully this baby ficlet makes up for my tardiness in replying!#think it's unblocked me after a few days of feeling frustrated with writing so hooray for that #apologies to dan i needed a villain #mctwinks #fic meta #answered #mondayverse #prompt fill

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spoonsock · 1 year

Text

Intruder

Gwen Stacy x Reader

Synopsis: You live a boring life, someone breaks into your house and you successfully convince yourself you are schizophrenic lmao

I don’t think I’ve specified reader’s gender anywhere so I guess this is gender neutral but I haven’t proofread it so I’m not sure srry

Warnings: Absolute shitty writing and mentions of an injury I guess. NOT PROOFREAD I WROTE THIS AT 3AM I SWEAR TO GOD THIS IS AWFUL!!!!!

“Best years of your life”, they would say. And you would listen. Daydreaming about adolescence and what it would be like. But no amount of daydreaming or storytelling could prepare you for what you were about to experience. Nobody told you you were going to have to face the inevitable, deadly boredom.

It’s summer, for God’s sake. You were supposed to be going out, having fun, getting drunk or high, partying or something of the sorts. And yet, here you are, laying on your bed and staring at the ceiling. It’s not late, the sun is just setting and still, you are in your pajamas. Just laying there, blankly staring at the big, white ceiling. You blink every so often. It’s pathetic. Frustrating. There’s so many things you wanna do, so many things you could do. You wonder, “what’s stopping me?”…. Oh yeah. You have no social life nor the social skills to be going out almost every night. Your best friend is your cat, the only people who text you are your parents, in school you barely talk to your roommate, even less to the people from your classes. You go to this prestigious school and study your ass off day and night to pass your classes, just like everyone else there. You doubt anyone from your school, even those with average grades, have a social life.

But all of that doesn’t matter now tho. It’s summer. No school, no pressure, no work. Just chilling all day. Having fun during the night. Not you though. You are once again starting at your goddamn ceiling, not moving an inch. Your parents aren’t at home, and won’t be back anytime soon. “I could throw a party”… you laugh at the thought. Tonight is just like any other night. You’ll listen to your music or draw or do whatever and then go to bed at 9 PM. How pathetic.

You close your eyes. Your chest is moving up and down while you breathe steadily. You slowly drift to sleep, thinking about how peaceful life is currently.

Fate is a funny thing. You say something along the lines “life is peaceful”, and the next moment, the window in the room next to yours, your sibling’s room, shatters into thousands of tiny pieces of glass everywhere across your room. Someone broke into your house. Your eyes are now wide open and breathing is fast and unsteady. You’re literally frozen and grasping at the sheets on your bed, scared to make sudden move or to let out a single noise. You can hear someone trashing around in the room, stumbling, stomping, kicking. You can even hear the person very silently curse a few times. The fuck are they doing? Some time passes by, the noises the person was making stopped. “Maybe they left? I need to check”.

You decide to muster up some courage to sit up, and grab a pair of scissors from your work table with shaky hands. You have no idea what you can do with those scissors, honestly, they are not even that sharp, but you do feel a little safer while holding them. Afraid to make a sound, you move on the very tips of your toes, one step at a time, carefully listening in case you hear something from the other room. You press your ear onto the door of it, trying to figure out if there’s someone there. Your hands are still shaking and sweaty from the nervousness. Nothing. Not a single sound. “They must have left”

You grip your scissors in one hand and put your palm over the door handle, before slowly pressing down and opening the door quietly. You peer inside the dark room, the only light is coming from your own through the crack between the door and the wall. The more you open the door, the more of the light comes in. Suddenly, you see something move in the dark.

“Who’s there?” You tried to sound confident, but it didn’t really work as your voice broke when you tried to speak.

No answer. Holding the scissors closer and tighter, you open the door fully to lighten the whole room. Someone is laying on the floor. Someone dressed up in a white costume or something like that. You come closer and squint your eyes trying to see who is that.

“Is that….? No, it can’t be”

Yeah, yes it can be. The spider-woman, or Ghost spider as some called her, in the flesh. In your house. Bleeding onto your floor.

“What the heelllll”

You sit on the floor next to her limp body. She’s obviously unconscious, not dead. There’s a small puddle of blood around her leg. She’s laying on her back directly under the window, surrounded by the glass. There’s a huge hole in her costume on her left leg, the one closer to you, from which she’s bleeding. All over your floor. You stare at her wondering what the actual fuck is going on. You’re stuck there for a few moments before pulling yourself back to reality. The Spider-woman is bleeding on your floor. You gotta do something bruh.

You quickly run out of the room and return with a first aid kit. Everything is moving in a blur, you can’t tell whether this is all some kind of a fucked up dream or reality, but whatever it is, the only thing you are sure of is that you gotta help her. You clean the cut on her leg with something from the kit, put something jelly on it, and then wrap her leg with a towel. You have no idea what you just did or will it help but it did stop the bleeding so you just move on and start wiping the blood off of the flor with a wet rag. After a while of cleaning the floor next to the unconscious body of Spider-woman while your mind is completely blank, you hear a few groans. The pit in your stomach grows and you wonder what the actual frick should you do when she wakes up, which will apparently be, any time now. You guess she opened up her eyes (you can’t tell bc, you know, the mask and all) as she slowly rose in a sitting position, holding her head in one of her hands, rubbing her temple. She looks around herself and, I shit you not, flinches so hard that she hits her head on the window frame behind her when she sees you. You let out a loud gasp when she does so, even more scared of her than she is of you.

“Ouch, damn it! Where am I? Who are you? What is going on? I-“ she starts frantically.

“Stop stop stop calm down please!” you wave your hands around her, not knowing what to do while she looks around in panic shaking her head. Her eyes land on her leg and widen even more.

“What happened to my leg??” She looks at you. Well, you don’t really know if she’s looking at you, you can’t see her eyes, but you suppose she is and attempt to answer to all of her questions.

“You had a cut on your leg so I did…something with it and now it’s not bleeding anymore” you *try to* explain.

“Oh”

It’s quiet for a moment before you narrow your eyes at her and decide it’s time for you to start asking questions about this weird situation.

“You broke into my house and then blacked out. What the hell was all that??”

“I-I don’t know, I don’t remember anything!” She raises her hands up in defense.

It’s quiet again. She’s intensely staring at you while you look at everything around the room but her. You don’t know what to do. The Spider-woman is in your house. Well, she broke into it but still. She’s there.

You always held some sort of admiration towards her, even though your parents disliked her. Said she was a vigilante, how she doesn’t really help the cops, how she wouldn’t wear a mask unless she had something to hide. You didn’t care why she wore a mask. You liked what she did and thought it was admirable. You thought about how cool it must be, to be a superhero, to save lives and have amazing powers and do amazing shit all day. How cool it must be to be special. To be somebody. To be somebody to someone.

She’s still looking at you. The fuck is her problem? “Okay” you sigh and get up. “Is your leg any better?”

She attempts to get up and slowly succeeds. She steps on her left leg and you can tell she made a sour face after doing so, but quickly hides the expression she thought you couldn’t even see. “Yeah I guess”

You made her tea. She sat on your couch and drank it. It was silent for a while. For a long while. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. More like a “we’re both too tired to talk, so it isn’t awkward, it’s just silent” silence, you know?

You would glance at her every now and then. Even in her costume, even under her mask, you thought she was pretty. You could just feel it. Something about her was so…inviting and…pretty.

More time passed and she had to go. Said something along the lines of having to run an errand. You nodded. She promised she’ll come back and fix your window ASAP. You let her know it was okay (even though the thought of attempting to explain how “you” broke the window in your sibling’s room to your parents AND to your sibling sent shivers down your spine) and escorted her out of the door this time. The absence of her presence kinda disturbed you.

“Whatever”, you thought and went back to your room, back to staring at the ceiling, waiting to fall asleep and hoping that when you wake up, the window will be magically fixed and your meeting with Spider-woman will turn out to be just a dream.

And magically enough, the window was fixed the next morning when you woke up. You asked your parents did they see anything unusual at home when they returned from wherever they were and the answer was a no. “Huh…weird. Maybe it was all a dream after all”

And that’s what you continued telling yourself. I mean, you didn’t have any proof that it wasn’t just a really really random dream. So you *tried to* believe it. And it kinda worked. But you couldn’t help but to hope you will dream of your intruder some time again.

Few weeks later, you met someone who goes to your school for the very first time. At your local grocery store, of all places. Her name was Gwen Stacy. She was really pretty and seemed nice, her dad was a cop and she lived actually really close to you. Surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be friends with her. You, also, found yourself not being able to shake off a weird feeling that you recognized her voice from somewhere.

Once again I repeat, this was written at 3:11 AM and it has not been proofread, please do not come @ me☺️

#gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy #spider gwen #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miles morales #ghost spider #spider woman

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crystallizsch · 7 months

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Hi!!! Feel free to tell me if this is asking too much on the twst ask game but…

2, 8, and 10 for both? Or maybe just Yuusha?

Sorry, I couldn’t narrow down! 😩 I love learning about interpersonal relationships, but I also really wanted to know about which dorm your Yuus would go to if they weren’t in Rmashackle! I’m pretty sure I know where Yuusha would go though lmao 👀

AAH HI HI! this took a while i had a lot of fun writing about it haha thank you so much!! qwq

also this isn't too much at all, there's no limit! (it'll only take me a while longer to answer depending on how many >.< but i wouldn't be against it)

and i answered for both of them because they're all really fun questions! i'm a sucker for interpersonal relationships too, character dynamics are really fun to explore and play around with!

(for #2: technically for both of them, their closest platonic friends would be grim, ace, and deuce because they've been there with them since the beginning. malleus would also be a runner up canonically but that's somewhat boring so the they are immediately disqualified.) (for #8: both of them dislike crowley the most so also automatic disqualification. (i’m not a crowley hater, it’s just funny in-universe 😭) i’m going to stick with the main boys and ignore the staff and other characters.)

━━━━✦ Yuusha

2) Who is your OC’s closest platonic friend?

(they haven't seen each other in less than a day)

Yuusha's closest platonic friend would be Kalim.

They had an IMMEDIATE bond because of Kalim's friendliness and openness which is something Yuu had barely seen in the time she had been in NRC. It was a breath of fresh air. Of course, at first, she was skeptical (especially following that whole Scarabia fiasco), but they naturally gravitated toward one another and just heavily clicked in a purely platonic sense.

Food and gifts definitely seem to be their love language towards one another. And on top of that, they just love to hang out to have fun. Yuusha never gets tired of Kalim. And they seem to be very close with one another to the point you'd think they were dating.

(i need to draw their dynamic more oml)

It helped that Yuusha tends to be very affectionate towards her close friends. She can be very touchy and overall not afraid to show how she feels about people. However, she only sees all of her relationships as platonic (that is until the one(tm) cough Jamil cough can manage to click her heart a certain way) (if Yuusha and Jamil just decided to stay friends instead, Jamil would be her closest but I digress).

8) Is there a character your OC doesn’t like, if so why?

The twins. Yuusha doesn't necessarily consider it as a hate/dislike of them because she still manages to tolerate them; it's more that she doesn't trust them fully.

She finds it hard to read them and predict their next move. And that sometimes scares her. If there's anything that she fears the most is the idea of being used and taken advantage of. It is humiliating and downright degrading. It tells her that she was wrong about people and that she was too trusting. And that's something she hates having to accept.

And Yuu knows the twins are fully capable of that without remorse, so she believes that she always has to watch herself around them, making sure she always stays on whatever their "good side" may be. At least Azul seems to be straightforward with what he wants from other people, but with the twins, it'll always feel like a wild guess.

10) What dorm would your OC be sorted into besides their current one?

hndsjfdlk you're right, Yuusha would be in Scarabia

If Yuusha were asked this question, she would think that she would be sorted into Pomefiore because of its spirit of tenacity. She's always determined to work on bettering herself and doesn't like to settle with the bare minimum. It wouldn't be her first choice but that's what she would think.

But really Yuusha embodies more of Scarabia's spirit of mindfulness. Yuusha is mindful in an empathetic sense, and that trait of hers is more outwardly apparent.

She's pretty in tune with everyone's feelings which helps her to understand people better. And that also helps her to navigate her way around dealing with everyone.

If it benefits her, she would take advantage of people's feelings and emotions. It is usually not out of malice or selfishness, however. Yuusha will only do it if she thinks it will lead to the best outcome. Not that she would always be right.

━━━━✦ Yuuna

2) Who is your OC’s closest platonic friend?

Yuuna’s closest platonic friend would be Riddle.

In general, Yuuna had grown a particular fondness for the Heartslabyul gang, and this was also especially apparent to Riddle. Despite being the first overblot Yuuna had witnessed, Riddle had grown on Yuuna and vice versa.

The two looked to be an unlikely pair—the hot-headed, abides-by-the-rules, powerful housewarden and the soft-spoken yet chaotic, magicless prefect.

It started with Riddle helping Yuuna study as a favor (and a thanks) for being the ones who were there during his overblot. But the study sessions turned into "hangouts" in the library, and it eventually transitioned outside—invitations to unbirthday parties, croquet, showing them the hedgehogs, etc. They also found things in common with one another, one of them being liking sweets.

Yuuna seems to have become Riddle's first real friend outside of Trey and Che'nya, helping him out of his comfort zone and let his inner child out once in a while. (also a bit of one-sided, unrequited crush from Riddle???)

8) Is there a character your OC doesn’t like, if so why?

There isn’t necessarily a character that Yuuna dislikes because they have grown somewhat attached to everyone.

However, if they were to consider someone who they liked the LEAST, it would be Sebek.

Sebek took the longest for Yuuna to get used to because, at first, they thought he was loud and condescending.

If there was anything Yuuna really hated, it would be being underestimated and treated as someone who is less than. And Sebek was the someone who would actually verbalize that, aggressively even.

But outside of Sebek's fanboyish tendencies, Yuu found his more genuine side once they managed to get to know him a bit better.

10) What dorm would your OC be sorted into besides their current one?

Yuuna would be sorted into Savanaclaw because of the dorm's spirit of persistence.

At first when I looked at Yuuna I was like, "oh they'd definitely be in Heartslabyul because I'd love that for them" considering their main squad is the Heartslabyul boys. Yuuna would think the same for themself.

But when I thought about it more, they would not be sorted into Heartslabyul at all because having some sort of strict code of conduct is not a defining thing about them.

Yuuna's physique and disposition is against Savanaclaw's stereotype of having the jock-types. They're not even very athletic, but they make up for it somewhat by being a competitive sort.

It's clear though that the dorm's spirit of persistence shows in Yuuna being the type to be adamant to achieve whatever they have to and not letting obstacles hinder them. They also have that loyal spirit that is akin to being part of a pack.

Also a little bonus, if Yuuna was a beastman, they'd be a rabbit :3

asks open!! (twst oc questionnaire)

#i am brainrotting oml #[—✦ chatting #-✧ ask game #-✧ oc rambles #-✧ my art #twst grim #kalim al asim #jade leech #floyd leech #riddle rosehearts #sebek zigvolt #(💜) yuusha #(💝) yuuna #-✦—]

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