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#im going to write fanfic that is so indulgent
stormsofasorceress · 11 months
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As long as we're together.
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burnt-up-stegosaurus · 6 months
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the 2012-avengers-tower-fanfic fan in me is going crazy after the marvels end scene WE'RE SO BACK
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see-me-here-alone · 28 days
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Niji en fix it fic
Chapter 1 - Word count: unknown
Summary: Y/N is fresh into their role at Niji needs to manage their beloved streamers amidst the company's turmoil. They confide in their cousin Michael, who is there to comfort them during emotional times. As y/n embarks on this new chapter, they wrestle with the uneasy thought that their cherished connection to the streamers might shift in ways they can’t yet foresee.
------ OwO ------
As the final hiring confirmation meeting faded into its close, Riku Tazumi, my new boss, gazed at me with a sincerity that took my breath away. “友達になってくれませんか?” he asked, his voice soft yet heavy with unsaid truths. The words, “Would you like to be friends?” were more than a simple inquiry; they were his way of requesting a raw honesty, an assurance that I wouldn't soften my truths to spare his feelings.
In the midst of NijiSanji's storm of criticism, he needs someone who can pierce through the static and deliver the stark reality of what's best for the talents. Meeting his earnest gaze, I replied with unwavering resolve, “最善を尽くします,” my voice a vessel of hope and determination.
We exchanged our goodbyes and my heartfelt thanks, and as the call ended, a profound weariness settled into my bones. Yet beneath that exhaustion was a bubbling excitement for this new chapter in my career. I couldn’t predict how fans and talents would respond, but I knew one thing for certain—I needed to share this news with someone special.
I moved slowly into our shared living room, where I found a familiar figure slumped on our old gray couch. He fidgeted nervously with his nails, tapping his foot to an unrecognized beat. “Michael, guess what just happened,” I said, trying to maintain a neutral expression, though my excitement fought to escape.
He looked up, bounding off the couch to envelop me in an impossibly tight hug. “You have to guess! You need to guess! You can’t just assume, dude!” His fervor was so palpable I struggled to breathe.
Eventually, he pulled away, his gaze drifting from my face. “I know you too well,” he said, guilt lacing his voice, “I know what you’re thinking and everything you’re going to do, so I’m sure you got the job.”
Tears brimmed and spilled down my cheeks as he stammered, “Oh shit, dude, was I wrong? Fuck…” He scrambled for the half-empty tissue box, grabbing it from the coffee table with a look of sheer panic.
“No, dude, I got it. I’m literally the best person ever—of course, I got the job. I’ll be working as a court jester when my boss’s ideas get weird and dumb, and I’ll protect people and...and...I’m so excited,” I choked out through sobs, overwhelmed by the emotion of it all.
Michael’s eyes softened with understanding as he saw me, his emotional cousin/housemate, unraveling. “Yeah, okay, dude, let’s order Indian food. My treat,” he said, patting my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. We ordered our meal, and as we waited, I continued to spill my excitement.
After our meal, we said our goodnights and retreated to our separate rooms. I sat at my desk, the computer screen still aglow, and opened YouTube. Sonny Brisko was streaming, but a tight knot of unease formed in my stomach. The thought of soon meeting, and inevitably managing, the very streamers I’d admired made my heart sink. I shuddered at the fear that my enjoyment of their content might be forever changed by this new role.
Resolute, I typed “ASMR loud talking sleep” into the search bar, clicking on the ‘watched’ button to sift through my previously viewed videos. As I scrolled, I sought solace in the comforting hum of the ASMR, allowing myself to drift into the soothing familiarity of past favorites. Yet, even as I tried to escape into this sanctuary, a fleeting thought lingered: perhaps these people are even more extraordinary than I ever imagined.
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toonfinatic · 7 months
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I love my favorite characters i think i will write about them suffering horribly because i love them so ❤️
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fumblingmusings · 1 year
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Not me finally reading Lovely As You Are and thoroughly enjoying every romantic conversation and kiss and dream like tone and getting to the final chapter and thoroughly enjoying Alfred knocking Ivan the fuck out and being like vindication for Ludwig fuck yeah only to end the fic and be genuinely hollowed out like a melon scoop because
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Hi, I'm Abbie and I never learned to fuckin read
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It is well and truly my
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moment.
Anyway, 10 out 10 fic to blast through at 11pm. Just... read the tags, yeah? It is quite heavy.
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strawberrycamel · 2 years
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starting to understand (and love) the whole "who cares if its perfect, just write whatever the hell you want. at the end of the day you're writing for YOU"
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24-guy · 7 months
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Saw AU one-shot in the works. >:)
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villruu · 8 months
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i don't think yall truly understand how obsessed i am right now with Marble Hornets.
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hoshigray · 3 months
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I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽
Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽
𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆
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“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”
“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”
“Oh my God, stop it!” 
This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.
If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure. 
Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby. 
The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.
Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet. 
What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.
But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!
“Toji, please, give my computer back!”
“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“
“TOJI, STOP!”
Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room. 
And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff. 
Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now! 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”
“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!
“How long’s a while?”
“Uhhh, a…a year?”
The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”
You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“
“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”
Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”
“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”
“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”
“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“
“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”
He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”
You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”
“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”
“……………yes.”
“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”
“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“
“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“
“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows. 
“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”
“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”
“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”
You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”
“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”
“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…
…Or so you thought.
“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”
Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”
“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”
Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.” 
Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.
“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”
Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”
“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”
For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!
You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold. 
How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie. 
Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes. 
“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”
Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”
“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”
You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly.  “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”
“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.
Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”
“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”
The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by. 
“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”
“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies. 
“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.
“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…
The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.
“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”
He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”
“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”  
“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”
You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit. 
“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!” 
However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.” 
You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“
“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”
“Toji, pleas—“
“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”
Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more. 
“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”
“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“
“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?” 
“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”
Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”
You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure. 
“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”
Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”
That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.
Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance. 
You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”
He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.
 “Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict. 
“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity. 
“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”
That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”
“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!
The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.” 
Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”
“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax. 
“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”
“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”
“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.
You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.
“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth. 
You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”
“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”
“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”
“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.  
You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior. 
You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub. 
He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”
“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”
“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“
“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”
“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.
Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane. 
However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”
He raises a brow. “Explain.”
“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”
A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“
“Th–That’s not what I meant??”
“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”
Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“
“Do you like what you do?” 
The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”
“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”
“No…at least I don’t want to.”
“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.
“No. I…like this hobby.”
Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”
“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh. 
“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”
“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”
“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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choccy-milky · 4 months
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OKAY HEAR ME OUT CHOCCY SEB GIVES CLORA A SNAKE RING?!?!
Soooooo rereading the fic and I’m back to chapter 33, and it totally popped into my head that they are IN THE VICTORIAN ERA and do ya know what was super popular after the engagement ring that Queen Victoria was given by Prince Albert? A SNAKE RING
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AND IF THAT AINT SEB TREATING CLORA LIKE THE QUEEN SHE IS THEN I DONT KNOW WHAT IS 😭💙💚✨
Thank you for coming to my ted talk 🫣😂
LMFAOO YESS TRUST ME, IVE SEEN THIS AFTER DOING MY OWN RESEARCH ABOUT VICTORIAN RINGS, ITS SO PERFECT!! AND THE FACT THAT ITS GREEN TOO LMAO, prince albert was a possessive slytherin confirmed!!🤪 but yea ill DEFS be incorporating a snake into the final design of cloras ring HAHA. i basically HAVE to...yknow, for period accuracy 🥰
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WOO YAY im glad i could inspire you to start writing!!!🙏and i get it, writing fanfic is defs self indulgent and for ourselves first and foremost, but obvs nobody wants to release their work into the void😩 as for how my own fic got popular, one of the main things is defs timing. i published the first chap basically within the first week of the game being out (it came out on the 10th and my chap was on the 18th) so it was there right at the peak/start of the fandom. but i also dont wanna attribute it all to timing BAHHA cuz i think im a pretty good writer and that helps....my fic also didnt get popular right away, but i was consistently posting every single week + eventually started adding art every single week, and was just really dedicated to not only writing but also drawing art for it (which is also obvs another huge factor/probs the biggest factor). ive had so many ppl tell me they started reading my fic bc they saw my art on pinterest or something LOL, and some ppl have even read it fandom-blind bc they were into the seb/clora dynamic??? which is another point actually. i always joke about how i love my cliches and good girl+bad boy dynamics, and that im unashamed about loving them LOL, but also...they're cliches for a reason!!! lots of us eat that shit up!!!😤so i think thats defs another factor, vs if my fic was a bit more niche and avant garde LOL the fandom is also (understandably) a lot slower than it was at the beginning of the year so itll be harder in general, but maybe you could commission art to go with your fanfic? ive seen a lot of other HL fanfic writers do it, and i think it defs helps to draw attention! GOOD LUCK and i hope you keep writing!!!🫡💖💖💖🙌
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huh??? go with the tide pods instead, THAT shit looks bussin😩😩
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AWW TYY😭😭I LOVE THAT HAHAH AND IM GLAD U THINK SO💖💖 my friend also asked me this question after seeing my recent ask, and i STILL have no idea what i would have named it instead LMAOO, thats how bad i am at naming things. even a year later im like bruh idk!!! clora and sebs bizarre adventures??? i guess id probs make it something light/dark themed in retrospect, or something more specific to the ancient magic, but i still have no idea what LOL
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chaoticedward · 1 year
Note
so likeeee what’s your opinion on freedom fries(soldier x spy)?? imo i love them very very very much and im so starved of any content of them that just seeing them next to each other i go “GAYYYY?????” so i will gladly appreciate any content of them if you don’t mind!!!
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ANON YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE HOW HAPPY I AM THAT YOU ASKED THAT; my thoughts on this ship are long as hell so its under the cut but tldr i love them so much
i ADORE freedom fries with my entire heart!!! i think they dynamic between these two is just so hilarious like it would never ever ever work in theory but in practice these two idiots compliment each other's personalities so well. its not even like "book smarts x street smarts" which is what im usually into its like. "complete lunatic x extremely fancy gentleman with 0 patience for idiocy" but somehow soldier slipped through the cracks. theres just something that draws spy to him. im not sure what it is and i dont think spy knows what it is either but he is just so so infatuated with solly
i think that maybe spy has this internal need to "protect" soldier from his own stupidity (man can and will get himself hurt, i mean thats just canon) and i think he'd get really mad and say "dont you ever do that again!!!!" to solly a lot when he does stupid stuff, but solly just smiles in response and spy melts into his arms and everything is okay.
ofc i think solly cares a lot too but hes def a little nervous!! he really doesnt want to screw things up and probably tries to prove that he can be a gentleman every now and then (ending in horrible failure, which then ends with the two laughing and kissing) but usually he is just absolutely himself around spy and spy just adores him and his unpredictability
i actually have a whole tf2 fanfic thats abt 115,000 words long (im a huge writer) where freedom fries takes place for a little bit (but things dont work out since the Spy is a Spy, and soldier and engineer have some history) but i REALLY want to write another fic where they do work out because i essentially only included them in the story becuase i. simply wanted to indulge my love for this ship fskjfs if i ever do any freedom fries drabbles ill post them with art!
PLS PLS PLS if you have any freedom fries ideas or headcanons send them in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i will very gladly draw them!!!!
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anakin-pilled · 9 months
Text
𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part two)
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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader
wordcount: 4.7k
warnings: no use of y/n
rating: rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)
author's note: thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter! it meant so much to me. i cant believe i managed to push out two chapters in a week!! this chapter might seem slow, but only because im still new to writing fanfics and im trying to find the right groove of things, but please be patient as i hope to fasten the pace and tension with the new few chapters. as always, proofread but please let me know if you see any mistakes and feel free to nicely provide any criticism or suggestions (pls). i really want to keep everything as canon compliant to the star wars universe (minus the timeline, that's unspecified), but i decided to take some creative liberties for minor cultural and geographic details. i get most of my information from wookiepedia or the star wars reddit, so if you have any questions about anything, i'm happy to send any links. okay im gonna stop yapping now. taglist at the bottom! creds to saradika for the header!
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You couldn’t bear another moment of dinner with Anakin. Something about him set your nerves on fire and left you completely unsettled–in a good way, a way that you’ve rarely felt before. But it was a way that you didn’t know how to deal with, and this deeply troubled you. How were you going to spend the next ten rotations with him? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. You doubted Anakin would do anything wrong. No, you would be the one to do something wrong. Totally embarrassing yourself in front of him or unintentionally acting off-putting just because you found him too attractive.
Dammit, you were thinking like a schoolgirl with a crush. 
After retreating to your quarters, you began to pace around your room. You had to get yourself out of this situation. Avoidance was always your favorite escape plan. It made life simpler when you avoided anything that made you uncomfortable or anxious. You weren’t exactly sure how you would avoid the 6’2 hunk of a Jedi. Asking Gido to remove him was out of the question. You couldn’t have Anakin removed, especially after the Chancellor had been kind enough to request one of the Jedi’s best members. You were being immature and you knew it. It hadn’t even been a full day and this man already made you so nervous that you felt like going haywire. 
You gave yourself a small facepalm. “What am I going to do?” you whispered to yourself. You needed to put distance between you and Anakin. That way you would stay as unaffected as possible. Plus, it’s not like anything could happen between you two. Anakin was a Jedi, and you knew that the Jedi had some unorthodox rules surrounding relationships. However (a small and delusional) part of you already imagined a future between the two of you.  You already imagined your lips on his. A man that captivating only came around every few millennia. Well, that was hyperbolic of you to think. Even you, a celebrity with access to Coruscant’s rich and famous upper echelon, never came across a man like Anakin. When was the last time you even got fucked or had one good Holodrama kiss? Dating is hard when you’re a celebrity. You meet people with the wrong intentions–cocky men who care more about having you as some sort of trophy or are afraid of looking beneath you just because you’re more rich than them. Plus, aside from the shitty dating pool, you were simply too busy with your career to indulge in relationships and sex. It honestly quite was ironic considering many of your songs revolved around love. 
The more you thought, the more you felt trapped in your room. An intrusive thought popped into your head, but you quickly brushed away the thought before it got you in trouble. But then the thought appeared again, and you couldn’t help but entertain what your brain was saying.
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Her presence is suffocating is the first thing Anakin thought as you left the room. As a trained Jedi, Anakin mastered the practice of shielding others' thoughts and emotions from affecting him. But you were being so loud through the Force. Anakin felt the same nervous energy he felt earlier in the day when he first met you. Except this time, he felt it ten times worse. 
Anakin knew he was being quiet during dinner. But it was hard to focus with your energy screaming in his ears! So, he focused on trying to enjoy his meal instead. You were nice, Anakin would give you that. But he felt if he talked to you, while also trying to stave off your energy from his, he would overwhelm himself. It was all too distracting–a feeling that Anakin rarely felt. 
Anakin then proceeded toward his assigned room, ready to prepare for the night. Luckily, he didn’t have to stay on guard the entire night as there was no threat direct threat to you in Coruscant. Sleep slowly became a stranger to Anakin in the past few months, so he welcomed the guest room’s luxurious, canopy bed with an unrefined flop. He lay there for a while, though he didn’t know how for long as he just stared at the window in front of him and thought. 
Anakin suddenly heard a crash! noise coming from the living room. He quickly jumped into action and ran towards the sound. What if an intruder was trying to harm you? Anakin wouldn’t let them get near you. Though he would protect you, a pang of annoyance ran through Anakin’s head. How could anyone gain access to your apartment? He went through your security details with Gido and made sure that all access points were being guarded by either a security guard or a droid. Anakin hoped this wouldn’t become another Padme situation–he wasn’t in the mood for a high-speed speeder chase tonight. Better yet, why didn’t he sense anything? Were you distracting him so much that his senses were dull? Anakin couldn’t have that happening if you were both to survive the next ten rotations together. 
As Anakin reached your living room and investigated the sound, he saw what object made the sound he heard. His eyes first laid sight on a broken flower vase. The turquoise vase was shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Anakin then looked at the figure next to the broken pottery and there you were, dressed in a dark robe, halfway to the entrance of your apartment. A look of shock, then brief fear and then embarrassment, went through your eyes when you saw Anakin standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Anakin questioned you with a glare. His voice had a deep edge to it. He was relieved that there was no intruder, but he wondered what you were doing. If he didn’t know any better, Anakin would say that it looked like you were in the middle of trying to leave your apartment. Except, Anakin did know better so he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do. The dark robes were a telltale sign of this–it disguised your figure and the hood covered a majority of your face. 
You cleared your throat before putting on a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, I was just trying to night walk in the gardens before going to bed.”
“The gardens? I thought they were closed for renovations. That’s what Gido told me.” There was a slight smirk on Anakin’s face as he replied. He knew he had you.
“Not for me. I have special access…you know, the building manager is a fan of mine. Perks of being famous.” You felt slimy using that as an excuse, but it was better than letting the Jedi know your true intentions. 
“Really?” Anakin admired you for doubling down on your lie, but once again, he could sense your energy through the force. You were hesitant, like you weren’t fully convinced of what you were saying either. Anakin continued, “Then why are you wearing such a thick robe? The weather has been warm lately, even at night. Don’t you think that you would sweat too much?” 
You chuckled nervously before saying, “I sweat all the time.” You quickly shook your head. Kriff that’s not what I meant! you cursed in your head. “I mean I’m used to sweating during practice and performances so it does not bother me too much. I felt chilly which is why I decided to wear my robe on my walk. Please excuse me for disturbing you, General. I must have been in such a rush that I accidentally knocked over this vase. I assure you that I did not intend to raise any alarm.”
“It looks like you were sneaking out to me. Is that why you feel so tense right now? You know, we Jedi can sense emotion. I can sense that you’re not being truthful. There’s no lying to me, pop star.” Anakin replied smoothly. 
You shook your head. It looks like your plan of trying to put distance between you and Anakin wasn’t going to work after all. You should have known–how could you outsmart a Jedi? It was easy to sneak out with your regular security staff, but Anakin was different. 
“I apologize. You’re right. I wasn’t going to take a walk in the gardens. I thought I could visit the night market on level 3204, the Alderaan district. I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t tell because I didn’t think there would be an issue since I was going to keep my identity hidden.” Anakin noted how your apology sounded genuine. 
“Level 3204. Isn’t that a bit far from you? I never suspected that you would stray anywhere past the 5000th level,” said Anakin. When people on Coruscant managed to achieve enough wealth to live on the 5000th level of Coruscant, it was very rare that they ventured anywhere below. The only people that ventured below were those dealing in shady business. That’s not to say that the 3000th level was necessarily bad–he knew that the lower levels were a mixture of the classes ranging from middle-class families to criminals. Anakin had been to almost all the levels of Corscant while on Jedi business. He had seen the most impoverished slums, where crime was rampant and everyone fended for themselves. Yet, he had also seen the richest that Coruscant had to offer–elegant restaurants, opulent theaters, and people dressed in the most expensive fabrics. It always amazed Anakin how in the capital city of the Republic, one of the richest planets in the galaxy, could house such a dichotomy. 
You took offense to Anakin’s words. What did he know about you? Sure, you were wealthy and privileged, but that didn’t mean you had to confine yourself to a small circle of society. You enjoyed visiting what Coruscant had to offer–the different cultures, species, etc. It may have been unconventional for someone of your status, but your parents raised you with humility. Anything you earned in this life could be taken away from you at any moment, so you tried your best to explore and enjoy everything while you still could. 
Now you weren’t thinking about this annoyingly handsome face or soft curls. You were thinking about how he pissed you off. Just another person making assumptions about who I am. Your eyes narrowed before dignifying Anakin with a response, “And where is it that I belong? Please enlighten me. What? Do you think just because I am rich, I wouldn’t dare mingle with anyone in a lower class than me?”
“That’s not how I intended my words to come across.”
“How did you mean for your words to come across?” Anakin felt your energy shift. You were no longer hesitant or nervous. 
“What I mean is that it is unorthodox for celebrities to venture anywhere below Coruscant’s surface. It’s not exactly the most celebrity-friendly place. I would know as I’ve to the 3000th level several times before,” Anakin explained.
“Well, I’m an unorthodox person then. I’ll let you know that I enjoy the night market in the Alderaan district, it has good food and honest people. Now, you can either accompany me or stay here and make more assumptions about me. Whatever you choose, I will still be attending the night market. Feel free to tell Gido.” You turned around and continued walking toward your front door before you were stopped by Anakin. 
“Kriff. You’re not going to make this easy, huh? Fine. I’m going with you to the market because it’s my duty to protect you, but don’t try anything.”
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You first discovered this night market in Coruscant’s Alderaan district only a few months into your arrival on the planet. Your fame had not skyrocketed yet, so you could easily travel between Coruscant’s levels without being chased by HoloNet reporters or crazy fans. You stumbled upon the market one night while lost on level 3204. It was a serendipitous moment for you. The night market operated every night and was primarily inhabited by Alderaanian expats, however, there were a few stalls run by species from exotic planets who sold even more exotic goods and foods. At the time you discovered it, you were feeling homesick and lonely. Your home planet of Bar’leth was nothing like Coruscant. Though Bar’leth had some metropolitan cities, it also had greenery and fauna. And the population wasn’t nearly as dense as Coruscant! You grew up in Bar’leth’s capital city, but you could still name your neighbors and there was a sense of community. Coruscant had none of these features. The night market was more than just a market, it reminded you of a tiny piece of home in the most bustling place in all of the galaxy. 
The familiar smell of grilled bantha skewers and roasted pormork flooded your senses. The area was decorated with a mixture of bright, fluorescent neon lighting and the warm, cozy light from twinkle lights from the vendor’s stalls. Light music played in the background from a live band playing in a corner somewhere. Though the market was mainly filled with adults, the occasional child and their family were seen. You and Anakin walked at a comfortable place in the middle of the road. Neither of you was talking, just observing the scene around you. You observed how people interacted with each other and made up life stories for them in your head. Anakin observed for any potential danger. 
“I’m sorry for snapping on you earlier. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am. It’s a sensitive spot for me. You know, with my name always in the tabloids,” it was you who decided to speak first. 
Anakin listened before responding, “Maybe I was wrong to make those assumptions about you.” He still thought it was odd that you wanted to venture so below the surface, but if there was one thing that Anakin understood, it was your disdain for assumptions. As the Chosen One, everyone made assumptions about Anakin—assumptions he should act or think. And somehow, Anakin always failed to live up to people’s assumptions of him. There were very few people in his life who accepted him the way he was. This was another point of contention in his life. 
Instead of letting this event take place in a silent awkwardness like dinner, you decided to make an effort to keep the conversation going. Anakin didn’t directly apologize, but you took his words to be a positive sign. “I know it must be a shock to you that I wanted to visit this market. And you were partially right to judge, who would suspect that I stray far from my life on the surface? The truth is, no one would expect that from me which is exactly why I do what I do. Not even Gido knows that I come down here.” 
“What makes this specific place worth sneaking out for? Aren’t there any other places you would rather be than down here?” Anakin asked this question sincerely. He was curious about you. While he was no stranger to Coruscant’s rich elite, the people he met were confined the the political sector.  He knew how politicians acted and their thought processes, but he knew nothing about the other type of elite—the celebrities, like you. 
“It reminds me of home, and the simple days I used to live before the glitz and glamour. There was a farmer’s market on Bar’leth I frequented with my family. There was local produce, lots of gourmet food, and trinkets of all kinds. I stumbled upon this market by happenstance one day and I never stopped visiting it ever since,” you explain truthfully. You loved the life you lived now and you were extremely grateful for it. But nothing could compare to your old life when you could enjoy the simple pleasures of life without any care in the world. Nowadays life barely gives you a chance to breathe since you were always working on something–whether it is new music, media appearances, or special performances. “You know, you’re actually the first person I have told about this place. You better keep it a secret, or else.” Anakin could tell you were joking by the smile on your face. He returned your joke with a small smile of his own.
You continued the conversation by asking Anakin a question of his own, “Don’t you have a special place that you like to visit when life gets too hectic?”
Anakin’s automatic response was to give you a generic answer. Before he could give you that generic answer, he changed his mind. He knew that was too guarded, but he couldn’t help himself. Anakin had been hurt too many times now–hurt by life, by his actions, and by the actions of others. Opening up was a recipe for disaster, especially when Anakin knew how passionately he felt about almost everything in his life. The only person Anakin managed to completely open up to was Padme, but even she was off-put sometimes by the level of passion and truthfulness he displayed. She never verbally admitted it, but Anakin could tell. Though you two didn’t know each other very well and have had minimal conversation so far, something about your energy invited Anakin to open up. Your energy in the force was serene. However, it wasn’t the type of serenity that Anakin felt whenever he was at the Temple. At the Temple, it was so peaceful, it was almost like it was devoid of any energy–it perfectly balanced all the energies of all the Jedi order and created a feeling of equilibrium. Your energy was serene in a way that reminded Anakin of his mother–comforting and warm. He could feel it radiating off your person. Ever since Anakin left with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, he could never sense that same energy in anyone else. Not even Padme, whose energy was more dynamic and loud. Thus, Anakin decided to be honest with his answer. 
“There is a place that I like to escape to sometimes. It is located in a secluded corner of the Jedi temple and only accessible through the garden wing. I used to go there all the time as a Youngling and then a Padawan. It has the best view of Coruscant since it faces the intersection where the old Republic Theater house and Senate offices meet. On clear days, you can watch the sunset from there.” Anakin didn’t know that the Senate offices were in that direction until a few years after he moved to Coruscant. Once he found out Padme had stepped down as queen and became Naboo’s senator, he would stare at that intersection as a way to feel closer to Padme during their years apart. Despite the breakup, the spot still comforted Anakin because it served as a reminder of how far he had come. He was no longer a lovesick fool and rambunctious Padawan, but a mature and fully-fledged Jedi Knight. Through the transitional nature of life, that spot would always be there for Anakin. 
It was your turn to nod and listen to Anakin.
“How was it like…growing up in the Temple?,” you hesitated, not wanting to overstep any boundaries with Anakin. You remember how the tone of his voice earlier when you questioned him about Tatooine. 
“Growing up in the temple was…different. When I first arrived, I didn’t realize I would be living in a religious organization. There’s a lot about the Jedi that was very different from the life I lived on Tatooine. Though I can’t complain too much, I had a permanent roof over my head and food on my plate every day. And, there was practically no sand at all. The best part,” Anakin finished. 
“I imagine it’s like one big family, no?”
Anakin sucked his teeth in response before continuing, “Since I arrived at the Temple later than the normal age, I didn’t grow up with my crèche. We had lessons together every now and then, but if there was anybody I considered like family to be in the Temple, it would be my former master Obi-Wan, and my Padawan Ashoka. She’s actually a  fan—I promised her I would try to get an autograph.” Anakin looked sheepish at the mention of the autograph.  
“Remind me before you leave. I’ll make sure to sign something. Should I sign her lightsaber?” You made sure to make a serious face while looking at Anakin. Then, you let out a giggle. “I’m only kidding about the last part. Come on, let’s get something sweet.” Your pace picked up before leading Anakin in another direction. 
You stopped by a stall owned by an older Twi’lek lady who sold homemade rishi honeystix. The honeystix quickly became your favorite item at the market because of its’ sweet flavor and crispy batter. They were similar to a childhood favorite snack of yours, except the rishi honeystix was fried, not baked. 
“Can I have two honeystix please?” you asked the owner. She nodded yes before you handed her over the credits, adding some extra for a tip. The owner quickly prepared the dessert before handing it to you and sending a warm smile to both.
“Enjoy the sweet treat! I love seeing young couples like you visit the market,” she stated with a look of adoration on her face. 
You and Anakin straightened your postures and sent a sheepish smile to the owner. 
“Oh, we’re not-” “She’s not my-” You both said at the same time. 
The owner giggled out an apology before turning her back on the both of you and preoccupied herself with preparing more food. 
Her comment affected you more than you would have liked to admit. You couldn’t say you wished you were dating Anakin, you hard knew him after all. But the idea of someone mistaking you to be in a relationship with someone as attractive as Anakin made you feel a funny feeling. You felt a moment of giddy before telling yourself to calm down. 
You led Anakin toward an old fountain that sat in the middle of the market. “Ever tried these before? They’re the best! I don’t come here too often anymore, but whenever I do, I make an effort to buy these.” You then handed Anakin his dessert. 
“I don’t think I have had these before. The Jedi diet consists of the Temple’s cantina food and whatever rations we have for off-world assignments. Though I try to explore new foods when I have the chance,” Anakin stated. He picked up the dessert and observed it. Anakin didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he was intrigued by its flavor. A sweet aroma wafted off the dessert and even Anakin felt tempted to try it. 
You were looking toward the distance as Anakin inspected the dessert. You were about to take a bit of your honeystix when you made eye contact with a small figure in the distance. As your eyes focused on the figure, you realized you were looking at a young Rodian child. Their gaze shifted from your eyes to the dessert in hand. Despite the Alderaanian district being one of the more wealthy districts in the lower levels, many families still lived in borderline poverty. You smiled at the child in reassurance before getting up from the fountain and slowly making your way towards them.
Anakin looked up at the sound of your figure getting up and was about to ask you where you were going before he saw you walk to a child and kneel before them. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he saw you hand over your honeystix to the child. You hugged the child goodbye, but not before handing them a few extra credits. The child’s purple eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on their face. They gave you another hug before retreating to wherever they came from. 
You got back up from the ground and walked back toward the fountain without saying anything to Anakin. You continued like nothing happened and asked Anakin, “Did you enjoy it?”
He ignored your question. “What was that about?” He was referring to the instance in which you gave away your dessert to a child. 
“I saw the little one looking at my food, so I decided to go over there and offer it to them. I could tell she was hungry. It’s alright, I can always buy myself another.”
Anakin always believed that you could tell a lot about a society or individuals based on the way they treated children. He hated Tatooine and regarded it as one of the lowest civilized planets in the entire galaxy–for many reasons, of course, but the primary reason is that those on Tatooine had no issue trafficking children into slavery and treating them as chattel. He wished that more people displayed kindness toward him as a child. Anakin’s only crime was being born into the world, but aside from that, he was innocent and deserved to be treated with dignity and humanity. You were kind. It seemed like a bare minimum requirement to be astonished at, but with the type of people Anakin has had the displeasure of meeting, kindness was a trait he rarely witnessed outside of the Temple walls. 
You stared at Anakin as if you were waiting for him to say something, but he simply observed your face without saying anything. A timid look washed over your face before you turned your head to the side and blew a piece of hair out of your face. 
“Well, I think it’s time we head back.” 
Being with Anakin was different than you expected. At first, you were overwhelmed by his presence–caught off guard by the fact he looked like a literal god from one of those classical paintings located in one of Corucant’s largest art galleries. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys. Plus, you also had a penchant for romanticizing almost every interaction and person in your life. Not always in the romantic sense though. From brief strangers to friends, you tried to put a positive spin on everyone you encountered. There was no way of telling if fate was real, but you liked to believe so. Anakin was no exception to these rules. 
You were so close to successfully sneaking out of your apartment, without being detected, until you accidentally bumped into that stupid vase. Anakin came running out while you scrambled to make it look like you hadn’t been caught in the middle of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. You knew that if Anakin found out that you were leaving the building, he would either force you to say or contact your manager. So, you lied and tried to convince him you weren’t sneaking out. Of course, he saw through you and you gave up without a fight, until he made that stupid comment. Lying was never your strong suit anyway and it wasn’t worth the hassle anyway. So, Anakin joined you on your night adventure. 
Though you were initially anxious, once to got to the market, you felt your head clear. This was your comfort place, and it soothed your racing heart and clouded mind. Once you were past that anxiousness, you found that Anakin had a calming presence, once you got over your initial nerves. Anakin was observational, though it was expected of him to be so. However, it felt like he was really listening to you and clinging to what you said. He looked pensive as you described why you liked the night market so much. You wanted to make conversation with him, you didn’t feel forced to. Maybe it was the nature of the predicament you were both and the fact that he would be your bodyguard for the next week and a half, but you felt drawn to him. You wanted to know more about who the “Hero with No Fear.” You feared that if you got to know him anymore, then you might fall for him.  Except, you had to stop yourself before it went any deeper than that. Once again, you reminded yourself that Anakin was a Jedi. Off-limits. So, as you settled into bed, you promised that you would actually keep your distance. There was no use in getting attached to him. The Jedi belonged to no one. 
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taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader it wasn't letting me tag u ):
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a-random-weeb · 1 year
Text
BSD men x reader sick headcannons
im sick as well as my friend so fml I'm writing this
Warnings: le sick, this is kind of self indulgent in a way but at the same time your sick so... you have the right while your sick.
Autre warnings: this is my first fic, it's probably gonna suck ;-;
also soup is the food of the gods in this for some reason
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Dazai:
•he bursts out laughing at first, making fun of you (in a friendly way)
•Once he's done with his laughing fit, he does (try to) take care of you
•ok he's not the worst at taking care of people, but I feel like the worst part would be him making fun of you
•he won't let you go to work/school (if you're a student like in highschool pretend you're older), just because he's laughing at you, doesn't mean he doesn't care.
•he'd cuddle you, then end up getting sick, then you take care if him and cuddle him, then you get sick and so on until one of you realizes you can't cuddle (aka you, and he complains. This is the same for Nikolai)
•he pisses you off, but he loves you
"how did you get sick?!" He laughs as he hands you a bowl of soup, as you lie in the silky sheets of your shared bed with the worst cold of your life. You shoot him a glare as you take the soup in your shaking hands, making sure not to drop it.
"I already told you, my coworker got me sick!" You begin to eat your soup, frustrated and pissed. He plants a kiss on your forehead
"I'll call your work and tell them you're taking the day off!" He skips to the other room. You lie there, thankful for your lovely boyfriend.
(I don't simp for dazai so it was hard to write for him. This is my first fanfic EVER, be quiet. I only put dazai at the top for a friend.)
˖♡︎˖˚♡˚˖♡︎˖˚♡˚˖♡︎˖˚♡˚˖♡︎˖˚♡˚˖♡︎˖˚♡˚˖♡︎˖˚♡˚˖♡︎˖˚♡˚˖♡︎˖
Chuuya:
•He's easy to anger, so when you get sick, he knows you probably did something stupid to get yourself sick.
•Unlike Dazai, he's a good cook, but still he makes you soup, and angrily holds it out to you.
•he takes care of you, but acts angry the whole time. I say acts, but he really is angry, but he also cares about you. But is still angry.
•he's not Bakugou level angry, he's still calm(ish)
•he does verbally abuse you the whole time though.
•But it's not actually abuse. I feel like he just calls you dumbass and idiot.
•he's very forceful with everything he does ("eat! Or I'll force feed you!") ←(this is my fav head cannon for him, he would)
•He cuddles you, but somehow this man does not get sick, until he does, then you take care of him, but he doesn't let you touch him while taking care of him so the same thing that happened with dazai doesn't happen with you. There will be no cycle.
•He also buys you a lot of expensive medicine
•you piss him off, but so does everything
"You idiot! How the hell did you get yourself sick?!" He hands the bowl soup to you.
"I was playing in the rain with a cat." You give him an innocent look as he shoots you a glare.
"Why?! You knew it would get you sick!"
"but... there was puddles... and a cat who liked water..."
Chuuya facepalms. "Seriously?!" He sighs, calming himself down. He sits next to you on the bed as you eat your soup. He's rich, and I feel like you begged him to buy a tv for he bedroom. You guys watch my hero academia. Even though I said he cuddles you while sick, I don't think he'd actually unless you cling to him, then he'll let you sometimes. But he just sits on the other side of the bed as you watch anime together, and pass out in eachothers presence.
(I cringed at this one, it wasn't as good as I hoped. I made him a tiny bit ooc too ;-; idk I feel like it's good for a first time.)
✧.𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°。⋆✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°。⋆°.✧˖°.✧˖°..𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°。⋆
Kunikida:
•He's nicer than the rest of them
•He's the only decently normal one of the boys.
•he makes you soup and blah blah blah
•He doesn't cuddle you, he has common sense
•You don't want to get him sick either, so....
•He buys you medicine, he knows the best kinds
(I couldn't think of a scenario. Sorry)
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Akutagawa:
•Has no idea what to do
•He thinks you're gonna die so he makes this whole dramatic speech
•All you have is a common cold 😭
•after he figures out you're not gonna die, he asks what he can do
•He goes to the store to buy you medicine
•He doesn't know what else to do
•you tell him it's fine and all you need is a few days off of work
•He feels too bad, so he goes on one of those weird websites
•Next thing you know he comes in a skateboard and circling around you, chanting these weird, demonic words 😭
•"Wa bubu shaaaaaa qut epeu turu!"
"Aku wth are you doing?!"
"Curing your sick"
𓍢ִ໋✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚♡✧˖°~∆⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚𓍢ִ໋✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚♡✧˖°~∆⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚𓍢ִ໋
I too lazy to write for anyone else, this is a quick drabble and my first fanfic. I hope you liked it!
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ariseur · 3 months
Note
Hello there! Thank you so much for addressing my request...I'm new to Tumblr app so I hope I'm messaging your inbox! So yes! I hope...this isn't too demanding. I anon requested zack x fair reader...and I'm gonna let it all hang out with you:
I simp for zack fair very very hard...and Im HUNGRY for fluff..all the gentle kisses, hair playing ...jawline holding, couch cuddling, sweet compliments, rainy days...holding...waist clutching, skin contact, lips grazing coffe sippinng...deep eye dinner dates, jokes , teasing silly ...I can handle!!! I don't do smut or too overly steamy. I'm too old for that shit
Maybe perhaps...on the opposite spectrum, zack boyfriend scenario, comforting s/o with anxiety...drying of tears, wiping tears away, consoling cuddling...hearing him hum reader to sleep...mentions of heartbeats being felt through chests....feeling of voice vibrations through MUSCULAR chest...comfort bare muscular arms , tender kisses...goosebumps...ok I'm sorry too demanding...if I'm blessed and you create chapters of like simple one date, fun.."friends to lovers" type of thing, casual playstation gaming hangouts, cooking dinner as friends...thinking of each other while away ..to eventually relationship and consoling s/o anxiety....full on love date..that close intimacy (i,crave safe for work) I'd wait FOREVER, however long it would take you to write chapters of joy....you'd be my hero!!!
I stress his scar (in my own ramblings i always place my finger tips on it, i kiss it gently, we discuss who gave it to him, how he feels about it).. Our first date I wear some tight fitting dress his favorite color, but as he gentlemanly removes my peacoat for the evening he notices I'm covered in tattoos, and he's memzmerized (I do have quite the collection of ink irl) he smells of sweet sandalwood and is wearing the black suit in that turks mod for remake... his eyes. I make my own feeble attempts at fanfic but I'm TOO new and insecure to really write anything as I REGULARLY indulge in AI chat and it proves so many USEFUL fever dream instances for me to write but for now...I let the experts handle it.
Should you accept, thank you for bringing JOY into my life....
Please do take your time...I know you amazing ppl are BUSY and mine isn't the only request and might even not be too interesting.
But I thank you so so so much...I've been searching for weeks ..no replies.
EPHEMERAL - ZACK FAIR (CHPT. ONE)
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ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes - omg!! i’m so sorry this has been sitting here for so long!! i’ve been trying to go about this and since i’m not that experienced with creating chapter fics, i decided— what the hell?? why not try it?? so— i hope i did somewhat of a good job and stay tuned for some more!!
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ warnings - none except one mention of suicide ( but like in a ‘social suicide’ way ), intended lowercase, you spar with zack as kids ( cardboard swords ) lmk if i missed anything 💕!!
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ word count - 2561 words, 13990 characters
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STRENGTH. that was what mattered most in this world.
strength was a word you had learned in the first grade, sitting next to a snot-nosed kid babbling to his friends as he completely took up all your attention with his nasally voice in your ear. the teacher seemed to pay no mind, only engulfed in tapping her stubby chalk piece against the board, stained with dashes of residual white from the previous words that had been written earlier today, as she barely looked back at the rest of you.
you remembered it so vividly, the smell of the sanitizing wipes she had used during the twenty minutes recess you always anticipated, eager to escape the boring rants of mrs. ozaki and her slow paced curriculum. you remembered the knock you felt on your chair from behind you, soft as to not alert the teacher — as if she couldn’t hear the noisy kid blabbering next to you known as ono, although you only referred to him as, “booger-face.”
craning your neck and grabbing ahold of the side of your chair in order to turn further, you looked behind you only to see the half-toothless, sanguine kid you knew as zack fair. his dark hair, slicked back with only a few strands sticking out, probably from all the activity he did during your break at recess. you two had met earlier this year as he had defended you from the previous, aforementioned offender— ,”booger-face.” you had remembered the way zack stood over you, hands on his hips as he surged forward at the boy to stop him from pushing you around. his eyes, always so bright and lively, squinted at you with his smile as he helped you up and helped dust off your skirt.
after that moment, zack fair had started hanging around you more and more, inviting you to play around with his friends on the merry-go-round’s or hanging out with you after school, running around and playing with rocks or cardboard swords before your parents’ both called you in for dinner, to which you would hastily say goodnight run to your guys’ houses awaiting dinner.
removing his hands from your chair and placing them neatly on his desk, he beamed at you, “you still up for some training after school?”
you rolled your eyes as your lips twitched upwards into a small smile, “duh,” you said. you turned your body completely in order to to fully face him. “near the water still?”
he chimed in agreement, “duh,” his eyes crinkled with the way his grin widened, identical to the day he had practically saved you. he chuckled a little bit before fixing his posture and sitting upright in his seat, the wooden chair creaking as he readjusted his position. your eyebrows knitted together before you heard a stern shout of your name.
you flinched, whipping around back to face the front as your face burned hot with embarrassment. upon your turning of the body, you were met with the stares of your classmates and the hard glare of your teacher, fixated on only you now. her arm was no longer raised up and scribbling nonsense of vocabulary on the board, instead it hung low and remained against her thigh as she impatiently tapped the piece of chalk against her knee-length skirt. her lips, a light pink as they contrasted with the darkness of her tied hair, were pressed into a thin line before she asserted, “pay more attention, first warning.”
you nodded shamefully as you ducked your head down, grabbing your small wooden pencil and gripping it in your hand, as if you’d use it to jot down notes of whatever she was talking about— although it lay unused and useless for the remainder of class, only a placeholder of a ‘what if’ factor your teacher always liked to use when she began the period.
skeptically, she let her raised brow drop as stopped tapping the chalk against her leg, turning around and beginning to explain the curriculum planned for tomorrow again.
you tried to ignore the feeling of holes being burned at the back of your head, multiple pairs of eyes staring at your fork while you made your attempt at keeping your eyes forward and your mouth shut. you ignored the small, boyish giggles emitted from behind you, you’d ‘kick his butt’ outside of school, you thought. you’d get your payback, but for now — you sighed. keeping your hands interlocked, your faced your palms on another area of the desk, the foreign spot now cold against your warm skin. trying to act somewhat proper and behaved, you waited out the rest of class ( which was only presumably about twenty minutes ) just to find that sublime feeling of escaping the torturous ‘h-e-double hockey sticks’ that you referred to as school.
and you held up to that promise of kicking zack fair’s butt — watching as he stumbled backwards with his hands flailing in the air, a flimsy cardboard cutout of a sword gripped tightly in his hand as he let out a loud, “woahh—!”
you giggled, “what’d i tell you about that stance, zack?” you put a hand on your hip as he yelped in surprise. his foot slipped in the body of water, making an animated sound while he skidded across a rock, luckily able to catch his balance in time. you could hear the small chattering of the people near you, the rivers of gongaga rushing as your laughs continue and rise up into the quiet air.
“that’s not fair—! no water knocks!” he exclaimed.
you shrugged as he approached you once more, “you never said that before we started,” you chided. he charged forward at you, being blocked as you held your sword up in a protective expression. stepping backwards, your arm raised and lowered with every hit that the dark-haired boy threw at you, his confident face flashing between every brown whoosh of the cardboard weapons.
he heaved, “you know how mrs. ozaki kept talking about strongness or whatever?”
“you mean— strength?” another blocked hit, this time you tried to kick him and sweep the leg — unfortunately, you underestimated zack a little more than you had thought as he kept a firm hold in the cold dirt, digging his shoes into the ground.
“same difference, yeah?”
“what about it, fair?”
he pursed his lips as he tensed his body, waiting for you to strike again. you held off for a second, flinching as if you would hit in order to try to keep him off balance. zack decided to speak again in this momentary pause of your sparring. “i’ve been thinking about those SOLDIERs and.. i want to be strong— hey!” he exclaimed as you landed a surprise attack on him, barely grazing his not-so-ironed-anymore jeans before he deflected your hit. “now, that’s really uncalled for, c’mon.”
“finish your thought before i hit you again.” you quirked a brow.
he wore a smug look on his face, putting his hands on his hips while he shook his head at you. “didn’t hit me but ‘kay,” that smugness didn’t last long as you feigned waving your sword at him, only for him to let out a small yelp and jolt backwards. you smiled, quirking an expectant brow while he groaned in exasperation. “i wanna be strong too, y’know. have some— strength,” he said; and that was almost the end of it . . until he had managed to mutter a quick hiss of, “unlike you.”
you watched as his arm raised, the sleeve of his uniform’s button-up lifting up a little to reveal his tan line that he had obtained after being outside with you for so long. his hand gripped the thin handle while he went overhead to try and strike you from above. making haste, you took one more step back as your hands flew up to catch his attack with your own sword. in your imagination, with the collision of your toy weapons, you envisioned a loud, ‘clank!’ as they clashed with each other — it felt much more awesome-r to imagine sounds of iron versus the soft flap of refraining yourself from putting too much pressure on the thin material of the cardboard.
you grinned at him, watching as his determined face managed a crack of a smirk while he tried scaring you and randomizing the amounts of pressure he’d put in an attempt to try and catch you in a daze. however, the swiftness in which you jolted to the side and flipped your sword flat so that the tip faced outwards, thrusting the faux weapon and jabbing it into his chest caught him off guard, rendering him the loser of that evening’s battle.
you watched as zack carefully looked down at his stomach, then finally bringing himself to peer back up at you. he placed a hand on his chest while he acted like he really was injured, even going so far as have spit dribble out of his mouth and act like it was blood.
“gross—!” you exclaimed, pushing him as he fell on his back in the dirt and raised a dramatic hand to the sky. you laughed while he let out his ‘last dying breath’ before ceremoniously lolling his head to the side.
with some more giggles, you judged him with your foot as he magically arose from the ‘dead’ and beamed at you, reveling in your laughter. although, in that moment he wouldn’t tell you. he didn’t want to admit his growing crush on you, he didn’t want cooties. that was practically suicide. you extended a gentle hand out to him, throwing your sword to the side as he took your offer and hoisted himself up. zack brushed the dirt off of his pants while you cleaned his back up, still laughing about the whole encounter.
you claimed victory for a long while, even when you both had sat by the water and skipped rocks onto the cerulean river, now being painted a harsh lilac as the sun began to set and the heat of the sky began to cool, a soft breeze coming to rest upon your bodies rather than the draining, blistering sun.
you let a small beat of silence pass over the both of you, spinning the cold stone in your hand before chucking it into the water. your chest began to tighten, for a reason you don’t know why but you could feel it— crawling up your throat as it engulfed your esophagus. it creeped up the inside of you. almost as if you were gonna throw up, the pit in your stomach began to settle. you felt it, twitching on your tongue as it settled, trying to escape its enclosure from past your lips. you held it in for so long, fighting this battle you were so determined to win as you tried to focus on anything; the birds chirping around you, the rushing of the water, zack’s stone skipping across it. you tried to hold it in until—
“do you really think you’ll become a SOLDIER one day?”
the rock he had grabbed remained lifeless in his hands, his fingers tightening around it while he contemplated his options. he turned to you— dirt on his face and his smile, gapped with all the recent teeth he had been losing. he never faltered with that smile, you thought to yourself; and you never forgot what he had said to you after you asked that, “i’ll make sure of it.”
you smiled back at him, before it dropped once you had heard the calls of your name coming from the huts above the creek, where both of your homes had been located. with not another second, zack had already gotten up and running. he swiveled back to face you, waving a goodbye with his lanky arm before he shouted, “i’ll see you tomorrow!” but, of course, he wouldn’t be zack if he didn’t get hurt every now and then, you thought, as you watched him trip over a small rock. but— you realized, he also wouldn’t be zack if he didn’t get up afterwards. still, he turned his head to make sure you didn’t see only to discover you had ( much to his embarrassment ), before getting up and running back home again.
you laughed under your breath, “dork.”
and now, you’re still you. sitting in a bakery in nibelheim, you had almost never changed. well— besides the fact that you grew a couple of feet and wore a wider range of clothes than your school uniform and an old, colorful your grandmother had gifted you when you were five. you wore your hair differently and went out of your way to try and make a difference in the world; specifically by starting and doing some jobs around town and seeing if anybody needed help with those.. things — that would appear around town. the day zack left for midgar had stained your brain permanently, his hug leaving a mark on your body as you knew you might not see him again— even if you chastised ( or more so threatened ) him that he stay in contact with you no matter what.
although it was a few years ago already, you never forget about it, your mind always traveled back to that day at the river. grabbing another hold of your pastry, you admired the vibrant frosting as it created the symbol of a chocobo, not even able to take a bite in fear of ruining the perfect design. you watched the simple villagers of nibelheim float around their daily life while you stayed under the canopy in front of the shop, seated at a little table with the shade covering you from the heat of the sun. you remained bored as you tapped your foot and listened to the bustle of the small town before you heard pairs of assertive footsteps and the, ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s of the people.
tilting your head upwards, you only assumed maybe a few flat footed people or some kids running around was the answer but no— you’re met with the sight of a long, silver haired man with wide, white should plates while a shinra infantryman accompanied him along with another SOLDIER, only this time in black armor. you had watched the town guide, and even with your fuzzy memory you think you had recalled her name was tifa.
you squinted at them, watching as the SOLDIERs looked around at the small village. you gasped as the SOLDIER with the darker uniform turned his head, those eyes were all too familiar, and that familiar cowlick that peeked out from his thick, black hair was all too distinct. putting down the pastry, your eyes narrowed even further almost as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. you watched as he turned his head, his full face on display as he beamed at the environment— his smile still the same besides the fact that all of his adult teeth had grown in and his jaw became more defined.
you sat upright, your lips quirking upwards as you felt that childish wonder grow as it had all those years ago like when you had first met him, brave and confident as ever when he had defended you.
“zack?”
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klutzyroses · 1 year
Note
Hii Im sorry if im late but i just wanted to ask if you can write a little story fanfic on Mc drunk but nothing very explicit just like maybe when she isn’t drunk she’s composed and stoic but when she is maybe trying to flirt with everyone. If thats to much can you do Sebastian,Mozart and Comte? Thank you.
The only late one here would be me, I'm afraid.
IkeVamp: Drunk Flirty SO
How do they handle a stoic s/o who is very flirtatious when drunk?
Suitors: Mozart, Comte, Sebastian
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Mozart
Yes, because that is exactly what he needs in his life right now.
The pianist is a jealous man. That is a known fact, a fact that Y/N should know very well. And he never expects the solemn, often withdrawn young woman to be anything but.
That is why the man is completely blindsided when just a glass of wine in her system is enough to completely unwind her into the brazen minx she is hiding underneath.
And Jean seems to be the man on the receiving end of her temporary collapse in judgment.
The poor man in question is at a complete loss at how to deal with the seductive woman before him, cooing obscene things at him.
It isn't until she starts murmuring about kisses that the musician peels her off the soldier and handles her out into the hallway, quietly seething as he guides her to bed. He glares down at the beauty with her hair fallen around her like a halo as she lay on the bed, looking tempting as ever.
However, he summons all his will and instead leans into her ear, his voice like a lullaby, stern as his words may be.
"When you are sober, you and I are going to have a very serious discussion."
Comte
Oh dear...Oh cherie.
He is quite used to the quiet, reserved maiden who carried herself with such dignity and elegance.
So seeing that same maiden become a sloe eyed vixen currently leveling sultry looks towards Leonardo is quite the...surprise.
Not a particularly welcome one either, if he was being honest.
Especially since Leonardo himself isn't making much of an effort to rebuff the woman's scandalous advances. He seems to be having the time of his life actually, fully indulging the usually stoic woman's whims.
Well, at least he was until Comte's edged, layered smile has him chuckling and finally getting Y/N to settle down enough for Comte to take her without issue. He opts to keep her with him, if they are out in public, then she will not be leaving his side until they get home.
Even as they return to the mansion, he makes sure she gets to her room unharmed. As she meets his gaze with her own lascivious, suggestive look, he can't help but caress her cheek tenderly before resting his finger under her chin.
"Not tonight but perhaps soon, ma cherie. Very soon."
Sebastian
Sighhhh...he can feel a headache coming on...
Watching Y/N go from a quiet, composed young lady to...well, whatever this was.
Having had just a little too much to drink, she was now leaning flirtatiously on the arm of (The very amused) Arthur, her gleaming eyes glazed over and unfocused as she murmurs suggestive words to the mystery author.
The butler eventually has to pull her away because he fears she may start disrobing any moment now. And that is not something he believes he can stomach.
He steers her all the way to her room, ignoring her attempts to seduce him before he lays her down on the bed.
He makes sure she is laying down comfortably, lest she finds some way to hurt herself.
He tucks her in and takes it upon himself to remain at her side until she is asleep, having to withstand her bedroom eyes until she is out cold. Which thankfully for him doesn't take too long as she lulls into a deep slumber. A gloved hand gently moves the hair out of her pretty face as she remains asleep.
"You are such a handful. You're lucky I'm able to hold myself back as well as I do."
🌸
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sluckythewizard · 5 months
Text
BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary
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"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.
Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.
One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.
Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.
The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.
Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?
A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.
But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.
As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.
The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.
Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.
"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.
"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.
But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.
"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.
"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."
Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.
"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?
Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...
"Hey, are you okay?"
The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.
"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.
But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?
The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.
The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.
"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"
"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.
The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.
It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.
Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.
Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"
Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.
"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"
"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.
"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.
"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."
"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.
While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.
"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.
The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.
The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.
A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.
That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.
The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.
Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.
It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.
It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.
Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?
The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.
"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.
Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.
Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.
He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.
Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.
A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.
It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.
Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.
Like a mouse to a snake.
This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.
The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?
Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.
His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.
A STARTLING RINGING;
Splits the moment,
Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,
As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.
Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.
"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"
Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.
Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.
"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"
Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.
"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.
Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .
As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.
The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.
"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.
"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."
The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.
"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."
"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.
He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.
#NO TAGS ON THIS ONE BC WELL. IM SHY. IM TAKING A BIG LEAP JUST BY ALLOWING U TO REBLOG THIS. IF IT BREAKS CONTAINMENT THATS UR FAULT.#i unfortunately suffer from the disease of 'i hate everything i write the day after i write it' BUT IM GETTING TREATED#I WILL NOT BE HAUNTED BY THIS WEAKNESS FOREVER. AND HEY LOOK THIS IS THE FIRST ACTUAL FIC BIT IVE EVER FINISHED..#ITS SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF!! AND BY JOBE I WILL BE PROUD EVEN IF I HATE IT.#i dont always need to be the one who likes my art bc i know Someone out there will always enjoy it.#and to that someone i say: omg thankyou i LOOOOVEE YOUUUUUU!!!!!#JUST DELETED A WHOLE RAMBLE I JUST HAD ABT NERVOUS DISCLAIMERS FOR MY ART BUT I DONT NEED EM!!#GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT. ANYWAY. so emizel and soda huh#THEYRE SO CUTE TOGEEHTERRRR TEEHEHEHEHEEEE they are the homies that kiss eachother goodnight like CMON#but uhh so hey your bestest friend in da world just got turned into a freaky creature thing that eats ppl#ieah yknowthe guy that u care about alot that u had to watch get bled out by another freaky creature thing in an alleyway#yeaaah and you were super hurt and weak and stupid and u couldnt do jack nor shit to help him#what was i talking about again. RIGHT so hes even cooler now bc he cant die n hes super strong n his arms can be knives. sometimes.#but also he can eat people now. and sometimes he cant stop himself from eating people. and thats kinda scary. but in a cool way.#but also in a disturbing way. but also in an interesting way?but also in a freaky way.the feelings ARE MIXED!!!ATLEAST I THINK THEY WOULD B#okay again i havnt listened to the suckening ina bit. so its been a minute since i absorbed their personalities. i could be misreading or#misremembering or misconstruing or mischaracterizing or WHATEVER. i think the confusion carries its intended effect#LOSING MY TRAIN O THOUGHT. anyway i love soda n emizel i hope they get locked in a saw trap together or somethign. for enrichment.#TALOS GRANT ME THE STRENGHT TO POST MY CREATIONS ON LINE!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGHHH!!!!!!!
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