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sant-riley · 2 years

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[Random Task force 141 × gen z! member headcanons]

A/N: Reader goes by the codename Teddy in my writing! Along with she/her pronouns :) I am also extremely biased with Ghost so her main pairing is more towards with him compared to the others <3. I know absolutely nothing about the military so this is not accurate I am so sorry💀.

CWs: Dark Humor, Age gaps, Simping, crude humor, cursing. (not sure what else but lmk!)

Chances are, you're the youngest in the entirety of Task Force 141. Just a good couple of years younger than Gaz.

When Laswell brought her in to meet the group, they couldn't help but stare at her in confusion. A tiny girl who couldn't have been older than any of them. Soap couldn't help but chuckle while Ghost nudged him in the side to shut him up.

"This is your new rookie on the team, her callsign is Teddy. Treat her well."

All the men nodded, watching the younger woman shyly smile and wave towards them.

First they realized that her humor was, in Ghost's words, fucked.

Any minor inconvenience had her saying she wanted to be hit by a car or some type of bodily harm, Price quickly whirling around with eyes widened. "Now, I don't think that warranted that kind of response, don't you think?" "Oh it definitely did, Captain." And she'd walk away without another word.

He swears he gets gray hairs from everytime you make casual talk of you dying. He actively tells the others to check on you bc he genuinely don't know if you're serious or not.

Ghost is not up to date with shit, man uses no social medias oncesoever so everything she spouts is wildly out of pocket. References to basic things like tiktok, Twitter, Instagram? He just silently stares at you like you're on drugs. You can't really use your personal phone on base but you try your best to explain memes to him. He sighs and rubs his forehead with a groan of "I'm too old for this shit, teds." "Oh come on! You have to at LEAST know the meme about the marines eating crayons!" "What the fuck are you on about?

The only ones who know vaguely what the fuck you're on about sometimes are Gaz and Soap, despite them still being a few years older.

Granted, they are not caught up with everything but they actively make it a point on leave to try and be up to date bc of you and your mannerisms. Plus it makes you happy when they fire back a quote they learned.

Can yall imagine Soap on tiktok, what random shit he'd have on his fyp bc he doesn't know how the algorithm works 😭.

Teddy has made every single one of them a personal playlist when she does have her phone, Soap once caught her adding songs and hasn't stopped teasing her since. Price and Ghost pretend not to care and barks at Soap to leave her alone but they're equally curious. Ghost contemplates stealing her phone to see it.

Doesn't matter how serious or dark their job may be, you simp for fictional characters, loudly. Price has learned to tune it out, Ghost although slightly jealous, finds it endearing, Gaz and Soap indulge you and will actively ask about why you like the characters you do and how much you love them bc they like to see you excited. It's a nice feeling when they're always in life or death missions.

You're the smallest one in here okay, everyone can easily throw you without batting an eye so they all take turns training you! They all despite knowing you can take care of yourself, would still like to teach you all they know so should you come against a taller/stronger opponent, you'll be okay.

You are the most protected person in the entire squad, esp when going out for drinks, Ghost will put you in the middle between him and Price and basically make a wall of muscle around you. He says he doesn't care and that he just doesn't want to be pestered by creepy people coming up to you but he will literally stare down any man or woman who even tries. He is the creepy one in everyone else's scenario. Soap just laughs and tosses back his drink.

They all notice your ticks and tells, seeing your leg start to shake when you're anxious, when you start cracking your fingers when you're restless, how you will avoid eye contact at any cost. They start to find ways to soothe you in their own ways. Price will give you a pat on your shoulder, sending you a smile.

Gaz nudges you with his body to take your attention off the situation, or he'll simply start asking you random dumbass questions just to see your face change.

Soap will, if he has gotten permission before, just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, running around with you while you scream for him to let you go. Is also not against tickling you straight up to get you to smile.

Ghost tried to be as subtle as he can be. If yall are sitting close to each other, he'll make sure some part of his body is gently pressed against yours. Whether it be his foot, thigh, hand, some part of him will ground you. You try and reassure him that you know he doesn't care for personal touch but he just says to shut up.

Meeting Graves was a trip, for everyone involved besides you and Grave. Absolutely having no control over calling him a irl Fix it Felix. You were on Graves shitlist and honestly you wouldn't be surprised he betrayed yall for that one comment bc of how angry it made him.

Constantly being told to be quiet, but you cannot help it and will make little quips over comms. Ghost takes after you and starts to say horrible "dad" jokes that make you choke trying to hold back. Soap hates both of you and calls you unfunny.

They realize you're impulsive, especially when you show the amount of tattoos you have.

"I joined the military to fund my tattoo addiction." "You know what? That's not even a surprise."

Going home on leave is always a bitter experience, you never look excited to go home. So one of the guys (usually ghost) will offer you to come with them. It helps 3/4 all live somewhere in England so it's easy to see them/ take trips to their place.

They're all attached despite knowing better. They can't help it and they know they care for you so much more than other force members.

Ghost and Soap bristle when Alejandro makes a mention that he'd offer you a spot in his team, impressed with how you can take opponents twice your size.

"¿Te interesaría quedarte en México?"

"The Hell she will."

If you'd like to be tagged in future works, please comment under my rules that are pinned to my blog!

#okay this got rambley real quick but hey its my blog i can do what i want #ghost <3 #soap <3 #price <3 #gaz <3 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #gen z!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader #headcanon #kayla writes <3 #fem reader

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mistydeyes · 9 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Task Force 141 and a reader that they never have seen out of uniform until one day they all go to a bar but the reader is late? Next thing they know the reader walks up to them dressed like they just walked straight out of the 2000’s?

(if you end up doing this request: thank you so much! I absolutely luv your writing!!)

thank you so much for requesting! i literally am in love with 2000's fashion like you'll be seeing me walking with low-cut jeans and a baby tee fr

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summary: After a tiring mission, the 141 invites you to drink away the night at the pub. However, you get into a lively argument about fashion when they question your choice in 2000's inspired attire.

pairings: taskforce 141 x platonic!gn!reader (codename: Storm)

warnings: swearing, slight bullying (they fr just don't understand fashion)

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"Didn't we tell Storm half-past eight?" Gaz asked, looking down at his watch. The pub was nearly empty as the men continued to add glass after glass to a growing pile. Despite reminding you with a string of texts, you still haven't made an appearance. "Still don't get why they had to change," Soap continued, choking down another drink, "Lt's still wearing his goddamn mask." The group laughed as their attention was directed to Ghost, still wearing his signature face mask. "They probably wanted a shower and some fresh trousers," Price commented and the rest of the group returned to a more interesting conversation.

As the group laughed at Soap recounting Ghost's out-of-character dialogue in Las Almas, their gaze fell on the pub's door as it swung open. The group smiled at the familiar face and gestured you over. You walked to the table quickly, feeling the attention in the empty pub. At first, you thought it was due to your late entrance but when you approached, you saw all eyes focused on your attire. It was like you walked out of the 2000s or robbed a Delias before your arrival. You felt a little self-conscious at the confused looks and wondered what all the fuzz was about. "What? Do I have a stain?" you questioned as you dusted off your low-cut, denim jeans. "No, it's just-" Gaz began to say but Soap interjected. "Why do you dress like that?" he asked and you raised an eyebrow. You looked down at your jeans and Von Dutch top. "But I normally dress like this?" you said with a curious tone. You dressed like this before joining the military and held on to the lively aesthetic of the early 2000s. You were embarrassed to admit but Britney Spears and *NSYNC were your fashion icons.

"Yeah," Ghost spoke up as he eyed the interesting font of your shirt, "you look like you could be an extra in a Spice Girls video." You rolled your eyes, grabbing at one of the half-drunk glasses on the table. "You've been quiet, Captain," you edged while looking at him, "what do you think?" There was a hush over the room as you waited in anticipation. "Clothes are clothes," he simply replied and the table roared with laughter. "Such a grandad thing to say," Soap loudly exclaimed and everyone clambered with sentiments of agreement. "Sorry I don't wear Wrangler jeans and black fitness tops," you mumbled. It was a subtle jab at your colleagues but Gaz took it to heart. "I have style!" he shouted as you shook your head in disapproval.

"Gaz, you look like someone trying to emulate an Instagram model or some teenager's Pinterest board," you argued and you were met by the howling of the tipsy men. "And Captain, I'm sorry but you look like a father going on holiday to the Swiss Alps," you directed towards Price as everyone realized this was becoming an insult fueled rage. Soap was still laughing wildly, shaking his head in agreement with your every word. "Oh you shouldn't be laughing, Soap," you said as you turned to him, "a navy blue sweater and black jeans are a fashion crime." He quickly turned red and looked embarrassed as he examined the mismatched colors. Everyone held their breath as you turned to Ghost. "And Lt," you paused, thinking of what you should say next, "you dress like you've never heard of color."

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noodlesarecheese · 2 months

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So Watcher is launching a Dropout (it's not called Dropout but they're clearly using the same template format platform thing idk what it's called, and the same pricing structure), and the reaction so far has been wildly different than what I remember from Dropout's launch. I was curious about why that was or if I was just misremembering the Dropout launch, so I went back to the Dropout launch video to compare them and I think I can see where some of the difference is coming from.

If you want to make the comparison yourself: Watcher's Video, Dropout's Video.

I wanna clarify first though that this isn't a knock against Watcher or the fans who are reacting one way or another or anything like that, I genuinely am just fascinated with how different the reactions are to what seems to be the same business decision. This also isn't a 'wow watcher sucks and dropout is so much better' I'm just using them for comparison because they did the same thing with different results. ALSO this isn't about the business decision itself, just the presentation! Disclaimers out of the way, here's the analysis.

Title and Thumbnail So the Watcher.tv announcement video is titled "Goodbye Youtube" and the thumbnail is Ryan, Shane, and Steven sitting on a couch looking serious, with a dark background. That really makes it seem like they're quitting (which, ok, they are quitting youtube but not quitting quitting). Viewers are already primed to be upset, and it's easier to go from upset to angry than upset to excited, curious, or neutral.

Compare to the dropout announcement video: "How the Internet is Ruining Comedy" - inline with other collegehumor video titles, might make you curious. Thumbnail - Big News! with Sam smiling and a bright background. We know its big news, but he looks happy, and the exclamation point let's us know they want us to be excited. Viewers are primed to be curious and excited.

Tone The Watcher announcement has 2 main tones. The first half is very sentimental, almost sad or wistful at times, and while there are parts that veer into pride at achievements, it's mostly bittersweet and sentimental. The second half is a bit more uplifting, but still quite serious. It reminded me of a tech announcement, like when they introduce the new iphone or something like that. Very professional, sleek, and serious, which isn't automatically a bad thing! But I do think that's not the vibe a decently-sized chunk of the audience expected or wanted. Many people watch Watcher for the cast's dynamic with each other, humor, and the more relaxed/conversational/friendly feel that most of the series have.

Compare to dropout - excited and comedic tone. Still professional, but also fits the expectations of the viewers. People watch collegehumor for the humor (it was in the name, after all). They also poke a bit of fun at themselves, which lightens the mood, shows self-awareness, and alleviates some of the bad feelings about paywalling.

Focus The Watcher announcement focuses a lot on the creative journey of the cast and company, as well as how this move will benefit them. Which isn't a bad thing, that's actually quite interesting! The problem here, I think, is actually more about what isn't here - a solid explanation of how this will also benefit the viewers and why the viewers should be excited. There's a brief description of one new show, and the promise that existing shows will get an upgrade, but we weren't given many specific details about how they'll be improved, and there's only one new show to tempt us into subscribing. Some people will be excited for that, some people won't, and some people will be excited but not enough to subscribe. Having 2 or 3 series (even if it's 1 fleshed out plus a few teasers of what's in production or what is being planned) plus some more details about how existing shows will be improved would've helped. Without that, it really does seem like it'll just be the same stuff viewers were getting for free, but now paywalled, rather than new and exciting stuff. That makes a big difference. I think with the fans not getting as much focus, this also led to some (accidental, I hope) hurt feelings. Based on what I've seen from fan reactions, all the talk about hitting the peak of what they can do on youtube and wanting more, translated for many people to 'youtube isn't enough' which became 'you (the current viewers) aren't enough.' Which I don't think was their intent! But I also don't think fans are wrong for feeling hurt by that.

Compare to dropout: They clearly explain how the move will benefit fans, and reassure viewers that existing content will stay where it is, and only new content will be behind the paywall. (Watcher clarified this too, but in a comment. It's not in the video itself, which is a huge problem.) They include clips of several new (at the time) series that would be premiering on dropout, including things that specifically could not be made on youtube (due to weed, violence, and sexual humor), so the reason for the shift is clear to the audience.

Advertisers Both videos contain the sentiment that being monetarily successful on youtube means working to appease the advertisers, and that over time what the advertisers want and what the creators want drifts further and further apart, putting strain on the creators.

However, I think the message gets lost a bit in the Watcher vid. Instead, it leaves viewers with the idea that the main problem is just ads are annoying instead of advertisers putting constraints on content. I'm not even sure what the specific constraints are for watcher, because they didn't give any examples. And the focus on ads being annoying leaves viewers frustrated because people typically either don't mind ads or they already have an ad blocker.

Timing and Size Okay, this isn't exactly about presentation, but it is still a factor that impacts perception so I'm tackling it. And I'm actually going to do dropout first. CollegeHumor launched dropout in September 2018. Pre-pandemic, but also pre-Sam Reich as CEO. The company was still owned by IAC. It was a Company, and while it wasn't huge it wasn't tiny either. So launching dropout was a Company Decision, a Business Strategy. Some people were upset about, but it wasn't a personal betrayal (generally, anyways). If I remember correctly, this was also not a high point for the company. They kinda needed dropout to do well to keep things running smoothly (which is why they shut it down and sold it to Sam just 1 1/2ish years later), so the sudden shift made sense.

Watcher Entertainment is a company, but it doesn't feel like one. Ryan, Shane, and Steven own and operate things, but they're also the faces, and they're youtubers. Which makes every business decision they make feel more personal to viewers, especially those who have been watching for a long time. They've also seemingly been doing well on youtube, which makes it more difficult for viewers to understand why the sudden change is happening now. They do talk a bit about it, about the company expanding and wanting to do things that advertisers don't like (which I've already covered). However, mostly the choice to start a streaming platform is framed as 'the next big step' without much clarification on why it's the next big step. Plus, it's post-pandemic, and a lot of people are still struggling financially with the ripple effects of that. Yes, $6 isn't a wild amount of money, but there have been some months where $5 absolutely meant the difference between paying all my bills or not, and I know I'm not the only one. This, coupled with a lack of clarity about why exactly they're doing this, leads to fans feeling hurt, betrayed, bitter, and frustrated.

Now, presentation and framing isn't everything. No matter how perfect your announcement is, some people are still going to be upset. It's a big change, of course people will be upset! But I do think a more careful presentation would've alleviated some of the hurt and anger that fans are feeling. While I do think a lot of the reaction we're seeing is due to the decision, I think (based on what I've seen) that some of it is also based on the poor communication in the video itself, and that could've been avoided!

So I'm gonna get a little speculative and describe what I would've done. In this hypothetical, they've decided to launch the streaming service and brought me on just for the announcement.

Firstly, switch the title out. If they're married to Goodbye Youtube then add a (and hello...?) after so it's at least obvious they aren't fully quitting. The dark color scheme of the thumbnail fits their regular vibe, but they want everyone to be excited so they should look excited. Next, let's lighten the tone up. Being proud of what they've done so far is great, but we don't need the sentimental music and bittersweetness. Remember, the goal is to get viewers excited about what come's next - so let's focus on what actually comes next! Talk about specific show plans and mention why they wouldn't work on youtube. Then, take some time to reassure the fans. Predict a few likely worries and address them in the video. Acknowledge that it's a big change, that it will take time to get used to, and that not everyone will be onboard, and let the fans know that it's ok if they aren't onboard.

Like I said, this wouldn't fix everything. There are a few differences in between dropout and watcher that don't have anything to do with presentation. Dropout launched with primarily new shows rather than new seasons of existing shows, and they continued uploading to youtube relatively regularly in addition to the content behind the paywall, which I do think went a long way to keeping fans happy. At this point it's unclear if watcher will do either of those or not. But, while I don't think it would fix everything, I do think improved communication in the announcement would've helped.

#watcher #feel free to share your own thoughts but please be nice #I just like communication ok! And I really enjoyed the 1 marketing class I took in college #and it's pretty rare that you get such a clear comparison between 2 unrelated companies!

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firein-thesky · 2 months

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Why is it that dc such as r@pe, sa, and incest is totally okay to write about and romanticize but y’all draw the line at racism, fat phobia, and homophobia *talking about the writings creators make, not personal beliefs*? Whats the difference between these things? All of them are hurtful and affect people in real life, so why is everybody on here choosing and picking one and not the other? Do writers on here think that they are not comparable or that one is okay to romanticize and the other is going way too far?

Im just genuinely curious as I have seen this topic be brought up again and again, which has made me realize this and Id like to see it from someone else's pov.

hi! there is a lot to answer and unpack here and i have every intention of doing so underneath the cut. forgive me if this gets long, but you’ve asked me 4 very massive questions that i think warrant detail, nuance, and thought. there is a lot i’d like to say here.

that being said, mind the content warnings and protect yourself.

cw: mentions of rape, incest, racism, homophobia, fat phobia, discourse in general

firstly, i am going to choose to give you the benefit of the doubt in assuming you are actually curious in hearing another side and you are not simply looking to stir a pot or pick a fight with beliefs you have no intention of changing or having an open discussion on. your accusatory tone in the first half indicates otherwise and kindly, i am not an idiot. but i want to earnestly talk to you about this and again, will think better of you than you perhaps have indicated you think of me.

secondly, you do not have to censor words like rape in my inbox. that sort of censorship has become wildly popular because of tik tok and other money-hungry social media that also desperately want to silence people. do you know why you have to censor words like that on tik tok? or words like genocide? suicide? racism? 1. so that they can make money and market and push their squeaky clean algorithms but 2. and perhaps worse, so they can silence victims. if social media platforms and capitalism and the systems of powers had it their way, you would never utter these words again—whether to call someone out for justice or to have an open discussion like this one. i encourage you greatly to think critically about this and how you choose to use censorship and why.

now, to your questions.

to preface, i am interpreting this ask as being anti-dark content in fiction as you state that ALL these subjects harm people in real life. or at least, you are being critical of all dark content in fiction and the way writers engage with them, effectively ‘picking and choosing’ which are deemed acceptable and which aren’t, when they are all hurtful. i apologize if that wasn’t your intention/what you believe, but regardless, i’ll endeavor to answer you.

i personally have drawn no lines about dark content nor spoken about any of these topics specifically really, which indicates to me you have a different narrative and/or are coming from more inflammatory arguments that are always circling fandom lately. in the post i most recently reblogged, i spoke mostly of violence. which, of course, all of those things can be. but i didn’t name one of those topics in particular.

regardless, i don’t believe in the censorship of any dark content in art, but rather advocate strongly for critical analysis on a case-by-case basis. in general, i encourage thinking critically about every aspect of the world around you.

i do not believe that rape, incest, and sa are okay to write about or create art about but racism, homophobia, and fat phobia are not. i believe all of those topics are ones that can, should, and will be explored in the safety of art. all to varying degrees of success, earnestness, impact, and intent. you’re right that these are real things, that can hurt people, and the fictional work about them can have impact on our society that is tangible but the actual art or fiction created is not real. and again, this is all to varying degrees on a case-by-case basis.

art and fiction also historically and massively do discuss these dark content topics and have actively swayed the public’s opinion on matters, whether for better or for worse. throwing away all dark content in art and fiction because it is ‘harmful’ is deeply, deeply dangerous and reductive. a lot of art that engages with dark content actually makes very succinct points about it—i think of vladimir nabokov’s lolita or octavia butler’s bloodchild or speak by laurie halse anderson.

this is where we must exorcise critical thinking. some pieces of work will handle dark content poorly—white saviors making art on racism. men making art about a woman’s experiences that (as you are so interested in) romanticize her pain. etc. etc. and some art will handle it’s dark content incredibly and be transformative, perhaps even revolutionary in how we talk, perceive, or acknowledge systems of oppression, violence, and dark content in this world. some dark content in fiction will have damaging beliefs and effects on society, some will not—we must also look at scope for this, at the writer perhaps, the historical moment, their audience etc.

(for example, there is a significant difference in a main stream male writer, writing of a woman’s experience with rape in a published book in a way that makes it sound romanticized, sold to thousands and thousands of general public vs. a woman using fanfic to explore rape, take control of it, or whatever in a fanfic for a small online community where there are warnings on it. indicating she is aware of its potential damage in a way her male counterpart is not…)

but i still believe in dark contents’ existence in art. of course there is differences between all of these topics you brought up, but i don’t think their differences matter in this answer. i believe in their right to be explored in art. i am talking broadly of media/art here, which i think is the more relevant conversation, but i think you are actually more interested in a much smaller scale of people. ie. fandom. ie. mostly marginalized people in small communities online writing and creating dark content.

people will choose and pick which ones they’d like to create art over and which ones they don’t, which ones they read and which ones they don’t. there’s no ‘hard line’ drawn anywhere. and i can’t control it and neither can you. perhaps you think violence is okay to be explored in fanfic, but racism isn’t. someone else will have different preferences. i do not believe in its censorship.

now, let’s move onto your interest in romanticization and what i think you are more pointing to, which is fandom. you are specifically referring to people in fandom who write about rape, incest, etc. and ‘romanticize’ it—ie. they write about it in a way that is a fantasy. it is perhaps supposed to be horny or sexy. so let’s talk about it.

i must remind you that these topics you’ve brought up (rape, incest, sa) being written are fiction and it is (most often) done by someone marginalized who has either experienced this or is in threat of experiencing this under a patriarchy. i assure you, they are aware of its harm. hence the copious warnings in fandom spaces.

if i can be candid, sometimes i think that people forget how systems of oppression work when discussing fandom and whether dark content being created should be allowed or not.

for example, i sometimes think people who are anti-dark content in fandom believe that a woman or afab person writing a fictional fanfic about rape or sexual violence then influences people to go out and rape people or that women actually like it. when the reality, in fandom spaces, is that rape and sexual violence happen frequently under the patriarchy and then these women in fandom write fictional fanfic in response to cope, explore, take control of, etc. etc.

to insinuate that women or afab people (which fandom mostly is) exploring dark content safely in fiction then causes their own oppression and harm or trauma is rather victim-blame-y to me. fandom exploring dark content does not cause these things to happen in our society….these actions (rape, incest, sa) happen in our society or systems of power and fandom reacts to them in their art by exploring it in dark content. do you understand what i’m trying to say?

it’s not a matter of what is ‘okay’ to romanticize and what isn’t. i do not think the romanticization that fandom does with dark content (ie. my kidnapper actually loves me! or this sexual act that i did not consent to…maybe feels good) is not actually romanticizing but coping because of the systems of power that i described above. and this can be coping with anything—shame of sexuality, shame of fantasies, trauma, fear, etc. etc.

as i said in my tags in that post i reblogged and as plato said, dark content in art is a safe place to explore what would otherwise be harmful and dangerous in real life. it is cathartic. potentially even, a purging.

and even if it isn’t all that—maybe it just is trashy fantasy. it is still playing pretend. it is still fiction and in fandom spaces, it is still most likely being created by a marginalized person. and again, even if it isn’t, we don’t get to censor it. we can be critical of it or wary or whatever, but to censor it, is a slippery, slippery slope. do deem some topics as “acceptable” and others as “unacceptable” is dangerous.

just like kids play pretend where they ‘fight’ or ‘kill’ or ‘kidnap’ or ‘shoot’ each other in games of cops and robbers or heroes and villains, they are safely exploring adventure, dark content, fantasy, tragedy, and higher emotions. adults can do the same in fiction and with adult topics like sex.

and at the end of the day, we don’t get to demand the credentials to do so either. we don’t get to censor them or control them and nor should we be allowed to. i cannot stress enough that i encourage you to be critical of censorship or the absolute disgust in dark content and at those (again—often marginalized people) who engage with it in fandom. i believe it is deeply puritanical, conservative, and dangerous.

you don’t have to like dark content or consume it at all and fandom makes it easy not to with all the warnings and tags, but you cannot control others or police them. nor should you want to.

and at the end of the day, i have some questions for you. you don’t have to respond to this, perhaps they’re just things to think about. what is the end goal here? what is the point in harassing, shaming, attacking, criticizing, or interrogating people in fandom spaces who create or support dark content? do you believe that if it is purged from fandom, it will be purged from our society? if you want it purged from society—shouldn’t you start there rather than in the inbox of marginalized writers in fandom? people in fandom did not create rape, incest, and sa nor do they in their exploration of fiction…they are merely reacting to a world that did create it.

i hope at no point i came off as rude to you, as was not my intention. i intended to stand up for myself and respectfully state my opinions and thoughts on this matter. i’m sorry it got long, but also i don’t believe in being brief on such complex matters. i am a writer who engages critically with the world around me and sometimes, things cannot be made into short, snappy answers. sometimes, we must unpack.

genuinely wishing you well.

#i cannot guarantee that i’ll have the time patience or energy to answer every ask like the one above in such detail #going forward #but i do support open discussions and i wanted to be kind to this anon #these are just my 2 cents on all of this #cw: rape #cw: incest #cw: racism #cw: fat phobia #cw: homophobia #discourse

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stayinlimbo · 1 month

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Wait For Your Love

pairing: lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, second love (kinda), fluff, minor angst, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of a previous relationship, brief descriptions of heartbreak, so much pining omg, college-aged, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.21k note: i am proud i finished this one ngl. thank you @hwangism143 for giving me confidence. i'm not too sure how much i like this fic because it wrote itself but i hope you all still enjoy ♡

If there is anything Minho has learned about you in the years he’s known you, it’s that you’re not subtle.

It’s something that’s never seemed to bother you, even after he pointed it out once during your shared lecture class, voice tinged with exasperation as you ogled at the upperclassman you’d been making heart eyes at for the nth time that week. You wear your heart on your sleeve like a badge of honor, displayed proudly for the entire world to see.

Minho has witnessed every emotion be reflected on your face at least once. If asked, he could probably fill a whole book with expressions he didn’t even know were possible until he saw them on you, though the snapshots etched into his memory could never perfectly capture the art of facial contortion you’ve mastered.

Your open nature was evident from the beginning. He can still picture the bright grin you gave him when you occupied the desk next to his on the first day of high school. The feel of your gaze flickering towards his seated form and the light bouncing of your knee as the teacher dismissed class made it no surprise when you twisted in your chair to ask for his name and if he’d like to eat lunch with you.

It’s a curious thing, looking back on it, to see the immediate effect you had on him. Minho truly couldn’t help the pink hues coloring his cheeks as you tested his name on your tongue for the first time, nor the shy smile blossoming on his lips at the way you visibly lit up when he accepted your offer. He didn’t know you, didn’t know why you were so happy, didn’t know what this feeling was deep inside his chest; all he knew was that he really wanted to keep making you smile.

He likes to think he’s been successful over the years, if the way your head tilts back in laughter at his silly antics and tight grip on his biceps to hold yourself up is anything to go by. It’s an admirable goal his younger self set, though he’s not sure when it shifted from wanting you to be happy to just...wanting you.

He wanted you when he introduced you to his cats for the first time, the gentlest smile playing on his lips at your barely contained excitement as they brushed past your legs. He wanted you when you tried to teach him how to swim, despite the poorly concealed judgmental looks you kept throwing at him when he clung to your shoulders tightly in the shallow water. He wanted you at your best, at your worst, and in all your in-betweens. He wanted to be by your side, even if he couldn’t have you.

And he was. Minho was there to separate your clammy hands, wrung together by the anxiety flooding through your system, and give them a reassuring squeeze. He watched you take a calming breath, offering him one last nervous smile before walking a few rows over to ask out Chan, the upperclassman you wouldn’t stop gushing about. He offered you two thumbs up and the best smile he could muster as you bounded back to him, hands waving wildly in the air as you fervently spilled the details about how you scored a date on Saturday.

He was there to give the best “guy advice” a man with no relationship experience possibly could and third-wheeled more times than he’d like to admit, because, try as he might, he never was able to say no to you.

No, Minho never left. If he did, who would be there to comfort you after you and Chan broke up right before his graduation? It didn’t matter that you were failing miserably at hiding your puffy face or eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall as you delved further into what happened. He didn’t care about the tears from your sobs staining his shirt and wetting his neck as he pulled you into his chest or the amount of tissue piled in his trash can. Minho chose to bear your heartbreak, be the anchor you needed because he loved you. He loved you in the way you deserved to be loved.

He noticed the soft sighs escaping your past lips when he drove past somewhere that reminded you of Chan and the distant, longing look in your eyes when his name was mentioned. He saw your posture straighten, features lighting up slightly with a quiet “thank you” leaving your lips when he offered to bring you coffee every week before your morning class. Minho watched the weight on your shoulders be slightly lifted day by day as you reclaimed and channeled your love into yourself. He witnessed the smile finally reach your eyes, your laughter ringing in the air after he successfully predicted what the characters on the TV screen would say, and he swore he’d never felt prouder in his life.

Minho has learned all your mannerisms and would argue that he knows you better than he knows himself. Yet, there was a gleam in your eyes he’d never seen before when he leaned back on your couch and locked his eyes with yours. The way you quickly redirected your gaze was new too, and you even looked a little... shy. His eyes trailed down to your lap, where you fiddled with your fingers as he grabbed one of your surprisingly sweaty hands in comfort. Oh, it’s warm too. Weird.

It was weird when you refused to look at him for longer than two seconds when he picked you up for class the next day. He could not figure out why you were biting down on your cheeks to hold back the smile threatening to break out any moment, nor did he understand why, two weeks later, your smile directed at him had changed—still radiant and beautiful but somehow softer, more loving.

Why are you looking at him as if you love him?

You’re not subtle; you never have been. Minho can see it now in the way you’ve found more excuses to hold onto his arm when walking through heavy foot traffic, when you’re scared by the movie he teased you about, when you’re pulling him closer because you’re cold and don’t want to reach for the blanket resting beside your body. He can see your love overflowing in the same way as his, hands itching to intertwine with each other.

He knows you know about his feelings for you. How could you not, when he can hear your panicky voice reverberating through your apartment’s front door, pacing footsteps creaking the floorboards as you repeatedly question one of your other friends about how you should ask him out? He really hopes the catch in his breath wasn’t too audible.

Minho doesn’t mind waiting; he’d wait forever if he had to. But it doesn’t look like he’ll have to wait for long, not when your hope-filled determination paired with a wide-eyed stare pierces his heart and soul as you wrench the door open and usher him through the entryway.

And if he didn’t leave until the next morning, hand intertwined with yours as he dragged you to the nearest coffee shop, well, that wasn’t anyone else’s business.

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn @inlovewithstraykids @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

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cryptidghostgirl · 4 months

Note

HOLY SHIT

I just got to reading the request you did for me

Aka Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

And I love it so much???

Like it's so good 😭

Don't wanna bother you with another request but could you do a part 2? I'm just curious on if the reader ever succeeds or if alastor ends up getting their marriage back lmao

A/N i’m so glad you liked it!! a number of people have been asking for a part two actually so of course :) Also this is my reminder that I am not a woman in stem but an enby in classics so I get science things wrong,, i’m very sorry.

Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2 (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Nothing I can think of please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 2,206

First Part: Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I can still be useful" Alastor told himself as he straightened the lapels on his jacket, "She still needs me."

Alastor leaned into the mirror, slicking his hair back just the slightest bit.

"Yes." he nodded to his reflection.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor stepped out into the hall. He didn't know why he was so nervous. Y/n had never caused anxiety to rule his being before, so why was it happening now?

Since her arrival at the hotel, she had stayed locked in her room. Two whole days had gone by and the demon avoided everyone and everything. It was not unexpected or out of the blue, she had always favored her own company above anyone else's but, Charlie was growing tense. She had asked Alastor to help bring their newest guest out of her shell, hoping their shared past would cause his attempts to be more fruitful than her own had been. For some odd reason, Alastor had agreed.

Fondness was the trouble. He was fond of Charlie, and he had always had a bit of a soft spot for Y/n. She had been his wife for christ's sake, there was no way he couldn't have fostered some sort of affection for the wildly brilliant and creative girl.

Before he really realized it, Alastor was at the door to Y/n's room. She had taped a sheet of loose leaf to the door. Keep Out had been written on it in all caps, in her familiar, messy handwriting. Alastor's smile softened slightly at the sight.

Y/n had not haunted his thoughts, had not been an obsession, since his arrival in Hell. While he had recalled her with warmth and a slight smile, even looked for her in Hell on occasion, she had mostly stayed out of his mind after his death. Alastor had had bigger things to deal with, more important occupations of his time. He had had plans. He still had plans but, everything had seemed to change the second Y/n had appeared and nearly flat out told him she didn't care about him.

Alastor was nothing if not prideful. His image, his sense of self, his power, it all played in to the idea of himself in his head. He had figured that through the years of their arrangement, the strange woman had come to harbor some sort of affection for him as he did her. He had figured she at least cared for him as a friend, that her irritation had been friendly, playful even. Clearly, he had been incorrect.

The door suddenly swung open revealing Y/n. She wore an cross expression, a lab coat, and safety goggles. Peering over her shoulder into the room, Alastor noted the way her hair was still continuing whatever she'd been working on before opening the door. He had never seen a demon with a form like hers before. It was perfectly suited, equally unusual as the soul it housed.

"I could feel you standing out here."

Alastor raised his eyebrows, bravado taking over.

"Really, my dear?" he asked, leaning on his microphone before him as if it were a cane.

"Yeah." Y/n flatly replied, lifting the goggles from their eyes and pushing them onto their forehead, "What do you want?"

"I..."

What did he want? Alastor was a man who always knew his goals, his aims. He was always working towards something, no deed without its purpose. It was only now he realized that he didn't really know what he wanted from Y/n, why he had really agreed to fulfill Charlie's request with nothing given in return. Alastor cleared his throat, banishing the complicated thought to another time.

"Charlie requested I come speak to you about your lack of participation in the hotel's group activities."

Y/n raised her eyebrows.

"And you care what I do with my time because...?"

She tilted her head slightly to the side, her hands still on either side of the doorframe, blocking him from entering the room. Alastor sighed.

"You're not going to make this an easy conversation, are you."

It was a statement, not a question, and a slight smile cracked across Y/n's tired face.

"You know me so well." she joked lightly.

Alastor was ready, preparing himself to have to force his way into the room to have this chat. He saw the way her hand on the door twitched, and prepared himself to have it slammed in his face. Much to his surprise, Y/n let go of her hold on the door and stepped to the side.

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to come in?" she asked after a moment, her head cocked to the side in a genuine curiosity.

Alastor nearly laughed. Always so inquisitive with regards to the world around her, always trying to fill the gaps in her understanding, usually at a loss when it came to what was considered normal interaction. He stepped into the room. Y/n's hair stopped what it was doing with the test tubes in the back and closed the door for her as she turned to face him. After a look of appraisal, she seemed to decide the atmosphere for the conversation and sat down on the bed, patting the empty space beside her at Alastor's continued hesitation. He sat down and she crossed her legs, watching him intently.

"You need to stop avoiding people, and the activities. You are here to be redeemed, aren't you?"

"Oh! I see what the issue is." Y/n smiled brightly, "No, I'm not."

Alastor's brow furrowed. He had thought it odd that Y/n of all people would seek redemption but, had figured the time had simply changed her in ways he had yet to grasp.

"Then why are you here?"

The little beast called hope clawed at the inside of his stomach, gnawed on his ribs. The want was unfamiliar.

"Because I need an angel."

Alastor froze.

"You need..." he watched her in confusion, "you need an angel?"

"Yep." Y/n nodded in earnest.

She smiled up at him, evidently satisfied with herself and her response. She had always been like this. Alastor sighed.

"Why?"

"Because I need to test my virus on one, duh."

"Y/n, what are you planning."

"Same thing as always. Actually, I could use your help. Maybe this isn't all so bad, can you get me an angel? Just at the next extermination or something. I already know it works on demons, I just don't want to actually let my little baby loose without knowing it will work on the angels as well."

"Jesus, Y/n." Alastor laughed lightly, unable to not.

He shook his head in disbelief and Y/n's smile slipped from her face. She was always scheming, always wanting, always doing what it took to ensure she got what she wanted. They were so alike in that way: complete and utter disregard for the world unless it served them.

"What? Did I do something wrong? Did this hotel already work? Have the exterminations stopped?"

"No, I... you really haven't changed."

"Well, I'm taking out the afterlife now instead of the living world, but sure." Y/n crossed her arms, evidently irritated by his remark, "I'm just the same. So are you, by the way. I've heard about what you've been up to since you died."

Alastor was silent in thought for a moment before he spoke again. He looked at Y/n with a determined gaze.

"Are you asking to reinstate our deal?"

Y/n was wrong, Alastor had changed, she just didn't know it yet. The hotel had changed him, whether or not he wanted to admit it. He realized the answer to Y/n's initial question, what it was that he wanted, in that moment and there were only three things. The first was the same as it had been for the last seven years, to get rid of this damned contract he was under. The second? The second he had realized earlier, in his room when he'd been getting ready to come to Y/n, he just hadn't liked it and so, he had ignored it. Alastor wanted to be back in her good books. More importantly, for some undefinable reason, Alastor wanted her back at his side. The world, he had realized, had felt empty without her, no matter how irritating and distracting she could be. Though his motivations were muddy, figuring out the reason for the want was never the priority. The end goal was to fulfill by any means necessary. It always had been, for both of them. The third was that Alastor secretly wanted Charlie's crazy plan to work out. He wanted to protect these sinners, to protect this place they had all worked so hard to build.

There was a point of intersection to be found in two of these three things, if Y/n answered his question correctly. Taking out sinners, taking an angel, could let all hell loose on the hotel. Convincing Y/n to make a deal with him, to give Alastor her soul, well, that would be killing two birds with one stone. He would have his imperfect little companion in afterlife and he could stop her from doing any more damage to the hotel and its reputation than necessary to ensure the first thing took place.

"I suppose."

That was exactly what he had been hoping to hear. The first deal had been under her terms. Alastor had been hoodwinked into it, unable to turn it down due to the information on him she had uncovered. Now, the tables had turned. Alastor held his hand out towards her, grinning malevolently.

"How about this, let's make a new one."

"I don't see why not." Y/n shrugged after having thought it over, her hand meeting his, "Things are different, we're both dead. The old one wouldn't really work anymore."

"No, it wouldn't, would it?"

"Yeah so, you get me an angel to test this on. I start participating more in the hotel. Deal?"

"How about this." Alastor's grin widened, his antlers growing as well as his shadows ate away at the room's walls.

Y/n didn't flinch. Nothing in her expression changed save a slight twinge of intrigue as she watched him become more monstrous by the second, more all consuming.

"I help you get an angel. You stick by my side, like the old days. That would include participation in the hotel and all of Charlie's plans as it is where I work for now. A metaphorical taking of a soul rather than a heart, shall we say."

He was counting on her lack of interest in the world outside of science right now, counting on her lack of understanding of how things worked in Hell when an overlord offered a deal like this. He had chosen the words carefully, getting everything right while keeping the truth hidden.

"I'll still have time to work on my project?" she asked skeptically.

"When there is time."

Y/n smiled.

"Deal."

Green smoke wound its way out from the point their palms met. Y/n watched it, eyes wide with intrigue as it curled around them, temporarily filling the room.

"Is that what happens when deals get made in Hell?" Y/n asked as she let go of Alastor's hand.

"Only certain ones."

"Cool."

She got to her feet, snapping her goggles back over her eyes. Turning to the table, she began to fiddle with her test tubes once again. Alastor retook his normal form, watching her with a satisfied smirk. He summoned the chain, feeling the cool shadow of the mellow across his fingers. Y/n seemed not to notice as the collar formed around her neck. Alastor didn't like that, didn't like being ignored. He gave it a tug and she stumbled back a few steps, her hands flying to her throat and her hair catching the glass beaker she had nearly dropped.

Y/n noticed the chain now. It was impossible not to. As her hair set the beaker down, she turned to Alastor, eyes fixed on the glowing metal. Her gaze traced it from where she held it to his hands. Y/n looked up at him.

"What's this?" she asked, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, "When did this get here? How..."

She trailed off and Alastor's smile grew wider still. He advanced towards her, wrapping the excess chain around the handle of his microphone. It clinked menacingly against itself, spawning a sudden deep seated dread in Y/n.

She held her place, her shoulders thrown back and feet planted firmly. Alastor couldn't tell if it was all a show or if she really was not at all scared of him in that moment. He didn't really care, it didn't matter. She stared intently up at him in defiance as Alastor came to a stop about a half a foot away.

"Well?"

"Oh my sweet, you really have no idea what you've gotten yourself in to, do you?"

It was better than he could have hoped, could have dreamed. She was entirely under his control.

"Welcome to the rest of your afterlife."

----

Next Part → Till Death do us Part pt. 3

A/N I wasn't super sure how to end this off, I hope you liked it!!

@marukun @nanami1chu @i-like-potatoes12533 @boogiemansbitch @apenasandorinha @almond-t0fu @mygoldtears @ahellborn @winterisholding @misty-melody @themetalbabygirl @trash-shoot

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cinnbar-bun · 5 months

Text

Heartless Giant- Chapter 1

(Excuse the banner)

Pairing: Crocodile x GN!Royal!Reader

Rating: SFW

First part of a collaboration with @fanaticsnail 's Storyteller collection! I chose to do the "Heartless Giant" with Crocodile. Thank you for having me as a part of this, dear <3!

Summary: Your older brothers claim that the man who tried to overthrow your kingdom is still in the dungeons below. Such a monster shouldn't possibly exist, right? After a bet and a promise, you and your brothers travel down the dungeons to find the proclaimed "giant". Those rumors should be nothing more than gossip... right?

Notes: GN!Reader, Prisoner!Crocodile (for my Impel Down Croc lovers), implied age gap, Reader is an adult but age is not specified, violence, bad siblings, protective Crocodile, "falling for my father's enemy" teehee

You can read this on my AO3 here!

Word Count: ~2.7k

It happened years ago, they said. A man- more akin to a beast, if anything- tried to take over and kill the king. Your father, ever the gallant ruler, fought the giant beast and sentenced him to eternal imprisonment in the lowest cell of the castle dungeons.

A part of you was thankful you were not there to witness such a sight. To see your beloved father have to fight what was perhaps the scariest enemy in a long time would’ve frightened you. Yet, another part of you was admittedly… curious. Your elder brothers always warned you against going to the dungeon. They always joked that the giant would eat you and your heart.

“He towers over everyone… his shadow looms over everything,” the eldest would say. Your second brother chuckled along with him before hunching his back and cupping his left hand.

“He’s got a big hook, too. If his ugly face sees ya, he sinks it into ya!” He swung his arm around like it was a hook and your third brother pretended to be scared. He grinned after his performance and slunk to you.

“And, father says, with only his right hand, the giant takes away your life. He just,” your brother covered your face with his right hand and shook you while growling loudly. “Drains you until you’re a husk!”

You shove your brother off of you and roll your eyes.

“There’s no way anyone like that exists,” you huff and adjust your appearance. Your three older brothers laugh wildly, as if you had told the funniest joke in history.

“Oh come on, you didn’t see him!” The third one says. “You were on a different island!”

“I doubt you saw him, either,” you cross your arms. “You guys would be terrified if a man like that really existed.”

“Are ya callin’ us liars?” The second one frowns and raises a brow. “Don’t make us throw you into the dungeon with ‘im!”

“Maybe I am! Why would you go and try to make a joke out of a man that father had to battle like that?”

“Ugh, there you go, again,” the first rolls his eyes. “Can’t even take a joke!”

“I think all those books ruined yer brain, (Y/n),” the second chortles as he points at the book in your hand.

“I think all the seawater melted yours,” you shoot back and hold your book tighter.

“Well, I just hope you can fight if that beast breaks out one day!” The third one laughs. He takes his sword out of his holster and swings it with calculated precision. He sheaths his sword and you sigh.

“We can hope he never does,” you reply. “Maybe you three will be courageous enough to actually look him in the eye.”

“Those are fighting words! Ya think we can’t look him in the eye?” The second yells.

“I don’t think so,” you taunt. “He probably doesn’t even look anything like what you just said.”

“Fine. We’ll take ya down to see him and prove to you how dangerous he is. And when you cry, we won’t save you.”

Seeing your brothers so adamant to prove themselves made your arrogance rise as well. Not to mention, that little voice in your head that was always, always wanting to see the man your father had cursed under his breath over and over since that day. In a sick, twisted way, you wanted to see the man that nearly brought your kingdom to ruin when you were away.

“Fine. We can all go together and we’ll see just how tough you are from the ‘giant’.”

Your brothers smirked and nodded. The eldest stepped forward and whispered. “At midnight. Be quiet. The guards and father are having a meeting tonight. Use the back staircase and we’ll all meet by the doors.”

All four of you shook upon it and continued with your day. Your heart raced, your thoughts drifting to that beast locked away in the dungeons.

A man who towered over everyone. A man with a hook. A scarred face. The power to take life away with only his right hand.

You tried to imagine how this monster would look, but all images your mind conjured were hideous and unsightly. You shivered, yet the way your feet bounced with nearly every step gave away the excitement you secretly held inside.

After pretending to fall asleep on your bed, you waited till the moon was at its highest and opened the door. You peered out the hallways, checking if the coast was clear before scurrying along to the rendezvous point with your brothers. Just as they had promised, the three of them were waiting for you with eager grins and smiles.

“So you really did come?” The first chuckled. “Thought you would’ve hid away.”

“I wasn’t going to,” you clicked your tongue. “I’m ready to see how you three will react to him, though.”

“Please, that man’s got nothing on us,” the second dismissed. “Four against one, he’s done for.”

“More like three against one,” the third snorted, nudging his head to you.

“I don’t need to fight. None of us should need to, actually. We’re just taking a look, and then we’re leaving.”

They glanced around before your second brother picked the lock to the cellar with a pin he had taken from your mother. They urged you inside and checked that none of you would be discovered.

The dungeons were dark, mildewy, and worst of all, freezing. You shivered as you realized your nightclothes were a bit too light for this cold place.

“Come on, hurry up,” your brothers whispered as they practically ran down the steps to the lowest dungeon level. You made an effort to catch up with them before you noticed how low the temperature was down here. Every time you and your brothers let out a breath, you could see the small amounts of steam cloud around you four.

They lived in such conditions…?

Your brothers quickly made their way to the farthest cell in the dungeon and laughed loudly.

“There he is!”

“Ahaha! My god, he’s hideous!”

“Come on, give us a glance!”

You gasped at what your brothers were saying. “Don’t say things like that! You know better than that.”

As foolish as you were to come down here, you were not foolish enough to insult the beast.

The third rolled his eyes. “Oh, quiet down will you?”

“What are you, our mother?” The first glared. He began to bang on the bars. “Wake up, will you?”

You made your way to the cell and noticed the looming shadow in the corner. His back was towards you and your brothers, barely clothed in the rags he wore. There were two large chains wrapped around his arms, preventing him from using them to escape and use the ferocious powers your brothers discussed. He was sitting, hunched over, yet, even in this position, you could tell how large and massive he was. He hardly moved or flinched at the noise your brothers made, making them more upset.

“Come on! Give us something! Look us in the eye!” They hit the bars again, but the man stayed as still as a statue.

This was the man who nearly ended your kingdom…

You didn’t need to see his face, but through his behavior alone, you knew that despite him being in the cell, you and your brothers were his prey.

“Cut it out, now,” you warned, the anxiety creeping in your voice.

“What? Scared? Scared the ugly beast will eat ya?” The second brother called out. The third brother continued to make loud noise.

“Come on, we got our little sibling here! Don’t you want to impress them, giant?” He yelled before he grabbed you and pushed you against the bars. You yelped in pain and from the cold metal pressing into your face and body.

“Stop it! Let me go!” You screamed.

“What happened to the beast who tried to end us? Huh? I thought you gave my father a good fight! So look at us!” The first glowered at the giant before he smirked at the ground.

“What are you doing? Stop that!”

“Would you just shut your mouth?” The first leaned down to pick up a large rock and tossed it in his hand. Your other brothers chuckled darkly while you shook your head.

“No… this wasn’t what we said we’d do! It was just to look!”

“He can’t do anything to us. Look at him. He’s wasted away. Just watch,” the first says as he pulls his arm back before launching the rock at the giant. It hits him square in the back of his head and echoes as it patters to the ground.

All is silent as you and your brothers stare. Yet, still, the giant does not move.

“What a waste! He’s a dumb ogre! Can’t even look at us properly,” the second sighs.

“Why would you do that?!” You shout at your brother. “Why would you throw that?”

“You challenged us to see if we were scared. I think that beast is scared of us! He doesn’t even move!”

Your brothers roared in laughter while you heard the rattling of the chains. Your eyes widened in horror as you noticed the man’s arms were beginning to move slowly.

“G-guys. Let go. We need to go,” you beg. “Let me go.”

You try and remove yourself from your brother’s grasp while they all laugh harder.

“What? Scared? You’re even stupider than him!” They tease you. The third shoves your face harder into the bars.

“Oh go on, you’re both stupid cowards! Go on! Why don’t you give him a little kiss? He might like that!”

You struggle against your brother as you hear the chains clink. Your brothers laughter echoes in the dungeon until the third screams loudly in pain.

You hardly have time to notice what is going on as you’re flipped around and see the third is on the floor, gripping his bleeding hand in pain while your other brothers are wide-eyed and trembling. Your back is now against the bars and you feel a cold metal against your throat.

You’re shaking, afraid for your life as you glance down to see a gold hook pressed against your skin.

Your other two brothers quickly unsheathe their swords and point it to the assailant, but their fear is evident by the way they can’t even hold their weapons properly.

“The g-giant…” the first whispers, quaking in his boots. You know it’s a bad idea. Every part of you is screaming to not do so. Your mind races with warnings and against your better judgment…

You lean back and try to glance up. You freeze as you look up to the giant’s sharp features. You can’t see much from this angle, but you can make out how tall he is. Your brothers’ descriptions of him didn’t do him justice, and you recognize how much more imposing his figure is.

He presses his hook harder, pulling you further to him. He was careful not to use the pointed end of it to hurt you, but in your current state, you couldn’t care.

A low grumble catches your attention as you realize it is the giant attempting to speak.

“Do not touch them ever again,” his low voice threatens. Your brothers are even more shaken by the giant’s voice as they squeak and stumble backwards.

“W-wait, don’t-” you cry, not wanting to be alone. Your brothers put away their weapons as they force themselves back up and run away, screaming bloody murder. Your heart sinks as you watch your brothers run off without you as their voices get quieter in this dark dungeon. The giant removes his hook from you, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground as you struggle to breathe.

“Go,” is all he says, his shackles shaking as walks back to his corner. You don’t know what to think.

“You’re not…?” You begin, unsure of what to say at all. Do you thank him? Apologize? Cry? Leave? You’re too stunned to know what to do next.

“No. Just go. You shouldn’t be down here, anyways.”

“Wait,” you call to him. “Why did you save me?”

“Would you prefer I kill you?” He sharply replies.

“No. I just… I didn’t expect that from you…” you mumble. He sighs.

“You were foolish for coming down here. And you were even more foolish for allowing them to use you like bait.”

“I didn’t think they would,” you admit pathetically.

“Of course you didn’t. Life’s pretty easy up there, isn’t it, your highness?” He bitterly laughs.

“Don’t patronize me. I just wanted to know why you would do such a thing.”

“Telling you wouldn’t make a difference. Just let me rest and rot away the rest of my life in peace, would you?”

You stop and nod, the adrenaline wearing off as you’re back to feeling the bitter cold on your skin. “Are you not freezing down here? You’re hardly wearing anything that could keep you warm.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Prisoners aren’t afforded that luxury, your highness. We stay in the cold and in this silence to pay for our crimes.”

The logic was understandable, but you felt a pang of guilt in your heart.

“I haven’t thanked you for saving me and stopping my brothers, yet,” you start, fumbling through the ideas in your head. “Thank you. As a show of my appreciation, I’ll bring you something to keep you warm.”

He stood still, as if considering your words. “You would do something like that for me?”

“Yes. I will do so. I’ll bring it down for you as soon as I can,” you assure him, feeling resolute in your decision. Criminal he may be, but royalty you were. Even the worst subjects required kindness and repayment for their actions.

He turned his body around, and you managed to see his face fully under the dim light of the lantern. His face was sharp, chiseled, and scarred. The scar ran across his face over his nose, and the stitches on it looked brutal. The dark circles and bags under his eyes were prominent, like the strands of hair that were falling and framing his face. It was clear he tried to slick it back, but given his situation, he couldn’t do much with it in this grimy cell.

You gasped at his appearance, taken aback by how strangely beautiful you found him. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest.

“Don’t worry, I get that a lot,” he smoothly teased. “Do I look like the monster you thought I was?”

“No,” you earnestly respond, surprising him, somewhat.

“Oh? Why is that?” Unlike your brothers, who cowered away in fear, you looked directly into his dark eyes with a firm resolve.

“You look just like a man…” you reply. His eyes flicker with light for a brief moment, before they return to the dull color they were a moment ago.

“Monsters can look like men, your highness. You should know better than that.”

“Yet you did not kill me when you had a chance. Would a monster spare me?”

“I guess not,” Crocodile sighed. “Perhaps I’ve gotten soft while being locked away for so long.”

“I can only hope. But I promise, I will bring you the gift soon.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, your highness. It gets terribly cold down here,” he replied in a drab voice. He turned himself around and faced the stone walls. “I don’t have anything else to say to you tonight.”

You were taken aback by his abrupt statement but chose not argue further. He had done you a massive favor, and you too would probably feel the same way if locked away here for so long.

“Thank you again,” you said to him before you pulled yourself up and dusted the dirt off your nightclothes. You glanced back at him, but the man was back to staying silent and not moving.

What a dreary life that must be…

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece oneshots #x reader #reader insert #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece #storyteller au #heartless giant #the heartless giant

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for bitching about fics I dislike on my blog?

as a foreword, this is kind of a non-issue and no one's ever told me to stop, but I'm curious what other people think of fandom etiquette.

the fandom: a fairly small one. 2.4k fics on ao3 small. I recognize most people posting in its tumblr tag small. if I tell you the name of the source you'd almost definitely be able to find me small.

the source: pornographic, which means everyone involved is or should be an adult. it's BL with a switch MC, but the fandom overwhelmingly prefers bottom MC/top LIs (love interests), to the point where I've had people be astonishingly rude to me because my favorite character is a bottom LI and some of my friends have been outright harassed for the same. I used to not care about sex positions in the slightest, but now when I see bottom MC fanworks I can't help but remember how poorly I was treated.

the fics: wildly and inexplicably popular, even though they are, frankly, poorly written. it's eternal bottom MC turned up to 11, complete with copious amounts of OOCness in order to turn every ship into the worst ye olde yaoi gender roles dynamic you can imagine. it's things like MC, canonically a 23yo plank of a dudeguy, being written as a big titted milf in his 40s (which is made more confusing by the fact that one of the LIs is already a big titted milf). it's also things like the MC being written as disliking sex and having to be coerced into it when one of the most charming things about him is that he's a hilarious sex pest, or writing the LIs sexually harassing the MC when they really would never do that. I've likened it to replacing the characters with OCs that share the same name and my friends have agreed with me. I'm honestly convinced that the author and his readers don't actually like any of the characters if they feel the need to change everyone so thoroughly.

why I might be an asshole: it's assholish to hate on free fanworks, and I've bitched about these fics on my public tumblr blog. the fandom is small enough that there's a non-zero chance of it getting back to the author and a reasonable chance that fans of the fics have seen my bitching. I'm probably projecting the hostility I've received onto someone who's done absolutely nothing to me, and I am absolutely just straight up jealous that their fics get better stats than mine. I may also be being an asshole to myself, because being critical of other people's fics has made my hypercritical of my own.

why I don't think I'm an asshole: I think everyone has the right to be bad at things, but I also think everyone has the right to be a little hater. I don't put the fandom tag on these posts; they stay on my blog and my blog alone, and if later on I feel like I was unfairly vitriolic I'll delete the posts. I only post on tumblr because I'm certain the author in question only uses twitter, which dramatically lowers the odds of him stumbling across my posts. the fics are so popular that it's definitely possible that their fans would see my posts, but I think it's unlikely that they'd bother looking at my blog because 99% of my posts are about one of the bottom LIs. I have never and would never leave comments on the fics themselves, and I generally try to keep the bitchy posts to a minimum; it's far from a constant thing.

tl;dr - I publicly bitch about fics that (in my opinion) are poorly written and extremely OOC, under the assumption that it's unlikely the author would ever see it. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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midnight-moth-musings · 5 months

Text

Unrequited

John "Soap" Mactavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Part 2

---

The bitter taste of the bourbon in my cup does nothing to ease the stabbing pain in my chest as I watch Johnny leaned over against the bar flirting with some pretty blonde. I grip the glass tightly--unable to look away as Johnny leans in to whisper something in her ear. He brushes her hair back and she laughs. She's perfect--not a single scar to be seen on the skin revealed by her skintight dress. Perhaps I should've worn a dress, or at least done my makeup. Maybe then, he'd notice me.

I begrudgingly tear my eyes away to settle in the dark abyss of the liquid in my glass--swirling it around for a moment before setting it down on the wood table with a light thud. I take a moment to stare down at the charm bracelet around my wrist and spin it around as a distraction. I finish my glass, only accomplishing a slight buzz before I find myself staring at the two of them again. My attention is pulled away by the light nudge of someone's elbow. I tilt my head, ready to snap at whoever is disrupting my focus--only to be met with the curious brown eyes of my lieutenant.

"Somethin' on your mind?" His gruff voice catches me off guard as he continues to stare right through me.

I scoff, leaning back in my seat as my eyes flicker between him and the pair at the bar. In the corner of my eye, I see Johnny lean in to kiss the woman and I quickly refocus on Simon. "No." I grumble.

Simon's eyes narrow as he looks over at the bar and I know I've been caught. He looks back at my empty glass and nods. "Why don't I take you back to base, hm?" I know he only offers as a means to spare me of having to see Johnny take the girl home--allowing my illogical, lovestruck brain to deny the inevitable turn the night will take.

"Okay." I allow him to help me out of my seat and steer me out of the pub. I force myself to ignore Johnny as we walk out--missing the way he stares after me and Simon as we leave.

Simon opens my door for me silently, before getting in the car on the other side to drive. I tilt my head to look out the window--hoping to spare myself of any pitiful looks he throws my way. The ride back to base is silent and I find myself dozing off. I am jolted awake by the opening of my door as Simon offers a hand to me. His calloused hands grip onto me tightly as he steers me back to my room.

"He isn't right for you." His whisper breaks the comforting blanket of silence and I turn to face him. I lean my back against the door to my room, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

"What do you mean by that?" He stares back at me blankly and I almost wonder if I imagined the comment.

A brief flash of emotion crosses his eyes--although I am unable to decipher it. "He doesn't understand you."

Emboldened by the alcohol in my system, I cross my arms and reply with a twinge of annoyance. "How would you know that?" Simon rolls his eyes and my feel my face heat up.

He tilts his head and leans closer to me. "Does he know how you take your coffee in the morning?"

I scoff, looking up at him in disbelief. "That's a random question. Does it matter?" Simon chuckles lowly--shaking his head as he places his hand on the wall above me. My heart thumps wildly in my chest as he leans closer.

"Of course it bloody matters. The bastard should know how you like your coffee. He should know damn well everything you like." The scent of cigarette smoke and leather fills my nose with the close proximity and I take a moment to think about his reply.

My voice breaks as I whisper back, "No one cares enough to know any of that." Simon shakes his head again--staring at me as if I know nothing.

"You're wrong." He takes a deep breath before leaning even closer to me--our noses only inches apart. My eyes flicker between his piercing gaze to his balaclava covered lips that I can just barely see the outline of. "You take your coffee with a disgusting amount of cream and sugar 'cause you hate the taste. You hate the taste of bourbon too--you only drink it when you're upset and want to get drunk fast."

My hands fiddle nervously with the edges of my long sleeved shirt as I hold them at my sides and try to force myself to deny the truth of his statements. "Those are little things. Little things anyone could notice."

Simon's eyes narrow calculatingly. "Right. You spin your bracelet around when you're thinkin'. You never take it off--even for a mission. It's 'cause your mum gave it to you when you were 16."

I gasp as he places a hand on my cheek--the rough skin feeling inexplicably comforting. "Why do you know all of this?"

"I'd learn everything about you if it meant you'd look at me the way you look at him." Simon's eyes gloss over for a moment as he blinks down at me. "Bloody hell, the way you're lookin' at me r'now...going to give this poor bastard hope."

I hesitantly raise a hand to cup his jaw--feeling the scratchy fabric of his mask. "Simon." He doesn't stop me as I slowly pull up the fabric to rest on the bridge of his nose. My actions expose his pale skin--blonde stubble covering the lower portion of his face. I can't stop myself from staring at the beauty of the pink scars across his mouth and eventually my eyes land on his lips. His other hand comes to rest on the other side of my face and he pulls me close. Our lips meet in a tender kiss--although not rough, I swear my lips will bruise by how urgently he presses against me.

We pull away after a moment and I find myself breathing quickly. I begin to pull him down for another kiss, but he stops me. "You've had too much to drink tonight, love." He murmurs--stopping himself just short of my aching lips. "I...I don't want to be your second choice. We can talk 'bout this tomorrow, yeah?" As much as I wish to disagree, I know only hours before this I was pining for Johnny.

"Okay." I smile up at him, nodding in agreement. "Tomorrow." I watch as Simon briefly smiles--then pulls his balaclava back down. He turns to leave and I open the door to my room. I sigh, lying down on the bed as I try to make sense of the feelings bubbling up in my stomach.

---

-P

#cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x you

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apopcornkernel · 3 months

Text

some thoughts on jason, post-reread of teen titans #29

the curious thing is that geoff johns writes jason wanting to be remembered, memorialized with the other dead titans—he throws tim into donna's statue, yells, where's MY statue? so i wonder—have i been wrong all this time? would he have actually appreciated bruce's horrific glass case?

another thing. if jason, according to this issue, knows that batman didn't arbitrarily "replace" him, so to speak, then why did he go to all that effort to beat tim up? ... in the comic he says smth about tim being nowhere near good enough to be robin/to measure up to jason's robin... perhaps he was lying to himself and Did feel resentment for the replacement despite his statements to the contrary. and jason notably keeps children away from his gig but perhaps he reasoned with himself that tim was trained by batman ans he could take it. perhaps he just wanted to have an excuse to vent his frustration and anger and grief onto the boy even if he knew it was wrong, even if it went against his moral code. or perhaps (see panel) he was even pulling a leslie and hoped the beatdown would also decommission tim and get him out of the vigilante lifestyle? EDITED TO ADD: im feeling more of the first explanation tbh. i talked about it with a friend and its really so easy to forget how young jason is. i think he was genuinely just very upset and deliberately took it out on tim despite knowing it wasn't exactly tim's fault. hey maybe some selfish part of him wanted bruce to never move on. maybe some part of him recognizes tim as a driving factor for it and resents tim ror that. girl idk. i don't even want to say that this comic is ooc or not because revived jason media is all so wildly varying in characterization so once again this is a reminder that i am simply Working Within The Confines Of The Text

of course, it could always be mischaracterization/shaky writing of character motivation. but i think there's merit in looking at complicated comics and examining the messy dynamics, especially since this issue has been more or less accepted as unmissable canon.

speaking of complicated comics, i actually also have thoughts on dick and jason's dynamic based on how they were written in nightwing: brothers in blood. remind me to crosspost from my private twt acc!

one last thing: i actually love that jason is aware of bruce's "spiral into darkness" and STILL continues to enact his plan. it's the whole false equivalence of "bruce kills the joker == bruce loves me", "bruce doesn't kill the joker == bruce doesn't love me", or at least not enough. he's refusing to accept bruce's grief as penance. jason has already named his price, and he will not recant it. he will accept nothing less than the death of the joker 😋😋😋

#dc #batman #jason todd #tim drake #bruce wayne #chronic blabbermouth sorry!#dcposting

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infinitystoner · 9 months

Note

Conrad tells you to get on your knees.

What’s he gonna do to you?

I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL MAN. (Also, this has nothing to do with the series I’m working on. Just a drabble. Enjoy!)

Misconduct

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader Word count: 788 Tags/Content: Bratty Behavior, Daddy Dom!Conrad, Smuttish

“What if your little ruse had backfired?”

The evening’s arduous recovery mission had been a success, although the extraction of your target had not gone according to plan. Conrad’s plan, that is.

In the heat of the moment, you’d implemented another course of action – admittedly a slightly more dangerous one – and, now that you’re back at the Saigon motel the two of you are currently operating out of, he’s finally letting his disappointment be known.

And it is exhilarating.

“They’re safe, James. Mission accomplished,” you reply nonchalantly, wrapping your arms around his waist as he shrugs off his holster. “Isn’t that all that matters?”

He huffs out an incredulous laugh, slowly walking the two of you back toward the bed – which is precisely where you want to be.

“Oh, darling. You disobeyed a direct order out there. You expect me to just forget that?”

There’s a hint of lingering frustration in his tone, and a rush of adrenaline surges through your body, your core throbbing in delightful anticipation of what’s to come.

“Yes, of course,” you say before running your tongue along the expanse of his beautiful neck, relishing in the salty taste of his skin and hoping your eager nips are enough to distract him from the fact your hands are hastily unfastening his belt buckle.

But it’s futile – Conrad immediately grasps your wrists, stopping your ministrations as he gives a gentle squeeze. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

“I know I am.”

Your continued taunts prompt him to change course, pulling you away from the bed and pressing you back against the nearest wall. You’re not sure if it’s his heartbeat you feel against your chest or your own fighting wildly within the confines of your ribcage. You stare up into his eyes – any remaining glimmer of playfulness is gone, replaced by unabated lust.

“Why do you insist on being such a brat?”

“You love it.”

“That I do,” he muses, letting go of you. “But even brats must learn to follow the rules.”

“Now,” he pauses, his tongue darting across his bottom lip before his gaze narrows. He’s thinking of a punishment befitting your misconduct, and your breath hitches at the obscenity of it all. “Over there, on your knees.”

He motions to the foot of the bed, but you’re already following his command without hesitation.

“Any other requests, Captain?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder as Conrad snaps the belt from his hips in one fluid movement.

“Eyes straight ahead, love. And hands behind your back.”

Submitting to him like this comes to you as easy as breathing. It’s a partnership built on trust that works exceedingly well, both in and outside of the bedroom.

But you broke a sacred rule tonight, and now you must atone. Pleasure roils inside you like the wicked waves of a tempest as Conrad crouches behind you, fingertips ghosting down the length of your arms before swiftly looping his belt around your wrists.

When he’s done, he settles on the bed in front of you. Carefully, you test the strength of the leather binding, burning desire settling in your belly when you realize the knot is tighter than usual.

“My fierce, curious girl,” he laughs. “Would you like to hear the rules?”

Your brain short circuits with salacious possibility as the ache between your thighs intensifies, but you must make some sort of agreeable noise because Conrad smugly arches a brow as he rubs his palms along the top of his legs, observing you with a quiet wonder.

“You will not move – or touch me – until I say so. Is that clear?”

“Then what—”

“You’re going to watch.”

Conrad is certainly a sight to behold. The hazy light emitting from the bedside lamp creates a glowing aura around his godlike form, and shadows dance across the contours of his chiseled body as he widens his thighs. The way he commands the space, the confidence in his posture, the dominant energy filling what little space exists between you – it’s addictive.

“James, please.” It’s desperate, but so are you. You’ll say anything – do anything – if it means you get to touch him.

The subtle curve of his lips hints at a smile; he knows the power he wields over you. Conrad meticulously unbuttons his jeans, the two of you groaning in unison when he finally frees himself.

“Oh, don’t worry, darling,” he rasps, languidly stroking his cock. “I’m still going to make good use of that smart little mouth of yours.”

The confused expression on your face must intrigue him because he pauses his motions and leans down, his breath fanning over your heated skin as he whispers,

“Tonight, you’re going to talk me through it.”

#james conrad x reader #james conrad smut #captain james conrad #james conrad x you #captain james conrad x reader #the brainrot is real

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 months

Text

Wildest dreams, pt. 32 (Paul Lahote)

Summary: Rebuilding their relationship is slow, but worth it. They struggle to find their footing as life goes on, sharing what's on their mind and weighing on their hearts.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing, GRAPHIC depictions of death and blood

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

————————————

It’s been a few days since Paul promised he’d ask Y/N’s permission to host a birthday dinner. Daisy has texted him at least a dozen times by now, demanding details he cannot provide. Some would say he’s afraid to ask, but that’s not the core issue here. The key to this puzzling silence on his behalf lies in the way Y/N is sitting on his lap, running her soft hands over his as she lathers them in sweet-scented hand cream. A soft smile lingers upon her supple lips and her eyes shyly shift to his curious ones so often he’s barely able to keep his composure. All he wants is to taste her again, to feel her responding to his advances the way she once did – hungrily, unapologetically, wildly, and often. There were days he was concerned about how often she initiated sex…he missed those days. And now when they’re rebuilding intimacy brick by fragile brick, Paul isn’t all too happy about it being put at risk because of Daisy and her inability to give others space.

“You’re staring,” she raises her left eyebrow.

“How can I not?”

Biting his bottom lip, Paul suppresses a smile. Seeing it as a challenge, Y/N cups his cheeks. Brushing the tip of her nose against his, she grins as he releases his tortured bottom lip a shade darker, lightly swollen, and kissable…so incredibly inviting.

“Now who’s staring?” Paul teases as his hands grip her hips.

“How can I not?” She mimics. “You’re incredibly beautiful and you’re mine.”

Unable to resist, Paul’s lips spread in a smile she’d been craving. She can see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. When she lost her sparkle and stopped smiling, his faded as well. It’s truly rewarding to make an effort to get better when it reflects so perfectly in Paul.

“I am.”

“Mine?”

“Incredibly beautiful,” he exclaims, evoking a laugh from her he hasn’t heard in a long time. It’s bright and playful and she’s throwing her head back and he can’t help but laugh with her. Y/N’s laugh is Paul’s serenity and a sign she feels safe with him. Oftentimes Paul caught himself wondering if Y/N trusts he can keep her safe as he once promised her. There’s not a single part of him that trusted himself to be able to do as much, but it would kill him if she doubted him too.

Resting her forehead on his, Y/N lets out a soft exhale, her hands sliding lower until her fingertips rest on his jawline.

“Yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been, always will be.”

“Thank you,” Y/N’s voice is weak, as if her soul trembles for reassurance Paul was certain he’s diligently given time and time again. But if she needs to hear it more often, he’ll give it to her.

“Don’t thank me. Why are you thanking me?”

“For not regretting having me as an imprint.”

“I could never regret you,” Paul takes her face in his hands. Can’t she see she’s his entire world? “Look at me,” Paul orders but she squeezes her eyes shut. “Hey, hey,” he says firmly. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, she does as told. Her lips part slightly in anticipation.

“Every day I get to spend with you is another day I cherish life, love, and destiny. I didn’t believe in that shit!” Chuckling, Paul shakes his head. “Don’t you see? You made me believe in love and destiny and actually speak that into existence! There’s no one else on this planet that I would let hear me being this sappy.”

“It is a little sappy,” she jokes and he chuckles heartily.

“Well, you’re gonna pay for that.”

Raising her eyebrows, she smirks. “And how exactly are you going to make me?”

Pursing his lips, Paul pulls up his legs, his knees coming up right from behind her back enough to push her firmly into his chest.

“Crushing me? That’s your perfect plan?”

Giving her thighs a squeeze, he nods. “In a way.”

Before she had a moment to think, Y/N yelps as she lands on the soft mattress, Paul on top of her. His body weight presses her into the bed, genuinely crushing her to death. So why does it feel so good? Her nightgown moved aside, revealing a part of her right breast and Paul’s licking his lips as he cracked a smile unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her chest. He wants nothing more than to possess Y/N again, to feel her writhe beneath him as she comes undone. Lost in his soul’s desire, his mouth comes down hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them. Restraint crumbles beneath the weight of pent-up longing, and his lips mold to hers with an urgency that borders on primal. The kiss, though almost brutal in its intensity, is an act of reclamation, a fervent assertion of belonging.

He loses himself in the warmth of her breath, in the softness of her lips yielding beneath the onslaught of his need. The world outside this stolen embrace ceases to exist. His hands find refuge in the tousled strands of her hair, fingers tangling and releasing in a rhythm dictated by their synchronized heartbeats.

An inkling of common sense washes over him, pushing himself off her instantly. Laying on his back, beside Y/N, Paul covers his face. He allowed himself to lose control long enough to forget about her boundaries, about her wishes. It was a game that turned into so much more far too quickly and he lost himself long enough to act like a predator catching up with the prey.

“I’m sorry,” he swallows thickly, unable to look at her as a cold wave of regret washes up at the shores of his conscience. What started as a game, a dance on the precipice of shared longing he’s allowed to spiral into something he never intended. In this vulnerable moment, Paul grapples not only with the awful breach of invisible boundaries he feels were drawn since their almost wedding, but with the fear of disappointing her, of shattering the trust carefully woven between them.

Y/N doesn’t respond, but the weight on the mattress shifts and then it’s on top of him. Looking at her through his fingers, Paul can’t believe the sight. She’s entirely bare before him, her breasts on display, and her hands are pulling down his boxers faster than he can comprehend.

“What are you doing?” Paul’s voice is laced with curiosity and caution.

“What you’re scared of doing,” she remarks. Her movements are deliberate, determined to bridge the emotional chasm she feels separated them as they finally made some progress.

Grabbing her hands tightly, he sits up with a frown etched upon his forehead. “Stop that and talk to me.” His words sound like a tender echo in the room.

Chuckling dryly, she shakes her head. She meets his gaze unclouded by shame or disappointment. Instead, it holds a quiet reassurance. “That’s the point, Paul. I don’t want to talk, or think, I just want you.” His face is set in a firm, serious expression as she rolls her eyes at him. “I want you inside of me;” she clarifies, as her hands reach for his, intertwining in a gentle grasp.

“If that’s what you want,” he nods.

“Do you?”

“More than you could ever know.”

She pulls him to her, seeking his mouth. He laughs at her grasping hands, teasing her, but there’s no ridicule in his chocolate eyes. There’s only the wish to prolong their pleasure. A sparkle comes alive in her eyes, and Paul knows she will have the last laugh. Her hands move downward. When she finds what she wants, there is no more laughter in his eyes. They are black with passion as he pushes her down beside him.

It isn’t long before their pleasure reaches its high and they’re both released from their sweet torment. Y/N feels drained, her bones weak as Paul moves partially aside, though his leg is still across her calf, his arm across her breasts.

“That was -” Paul begins.

“Long overdue,” she exclaims. “I don’t think we’ve ever done it this quickly!”

“As long as we both finish,” he notes happily.

“How are you so sure I did?”

Paul smirks. “Oh, I know.”

Brushing his hair back, she sighs. “I love you.”

“Even with the beard?”

Giggling, she nods. “Even with the beard!”

“Good, good. Guess I’m going to throw away the shaving cream I bought this morning.”

Pecking his shoulder, Y/N places a hand over Paul’s chest. “Definitely. You’re not shaving until we see how well that beard works for me in other places when we take things more slowly next time.”

His chest quakes under her fingertips as his laughter fills the room. The birthday dinner can certainly wait until morning because there’s nothing in this world worth endangering the sweetness of this moment.

The problem is, the sweetness of that moment repeated often throughout the morning and then it lasted the entire day. Like catching up on lost time, Y/N and Paul spent the next day wrapped up in each other until they physically couldn’t move anymore.

“I’m pretty sure they’ll send out a search party for us,” Y/N snickers as Paul swipes away all the unread messages on his screen.

“If it was urgent, someone would be at the door by now.” Burying his head in her neck, Paul inhales her deeply only to realize she almost entirely smells like him. Playfully biting at her soft skin right above the collarbone, he licks the teeth marks left behind.

“I’m not even gonna say anything,” she snorts before checking her phone as well. “Well, they’re definitely relentless.”

“Mhmm,” Paul murmurs between feather-light kisses he’s leaving across her chest.

“What dinner are they talking about in the group chat?”

Pausing, Paul looks at her through his lashes. “Fuck. I forgot.”

“Well, now that you remember, fill me in.”

“They want a dinner party for your birthday. I promised them I’d ask you, but then –“

“I screwed your brains out?”

“Something like that,” he grins, “wait, that’s exactly what you did.”

Running her fingers through his hair, she sighs contently. “I think I’d be up for a dinner. Nothing glamorous, no gifts necessary. Just a dinner with friends.”

“I don’t think gifts are optional.”

Chewing on her bottom lip, she inhales deeply. “Fine. Fine. I can handle some gifts. Just promise me you’ll get me out of there if my social battery runs out.”

Pressing his lips in a thin line, Paul furrows his eyebrows.

“We’re hosting it, aren’t we?” She grimaces with realization.

“I think so.”

Staring at the ceiling, her fingers coil around the ends of Paul’s dark hair. “Tell them it’s a go, but you definitely owe me five more orgasms to be okay with hosting.”

Chuckling, he pecks her chin. “It will be my pleasure.”

When the day came, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by noon. She sent Paul to the store at least five times, constantly finding something new she could make for the pack on her phone to the point he confiscated it.

“Maybe I can make the mac n’cheese?” Paul suggests.

Pausing, with her hand on her hip, Y/N snorts. “Sure. We have time for the fire department to show up for dinner too. Might have to make a little extra. Would be rude not to invite them for dinner when they’re already going to be here.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Paul says nothing as he gives her a pointed look. She looks surprisingly put together considering she spent the day cooking. Most times he’d let the comment made go, but this time he was waiting for an apology, one he hoped she’d realize he’s owed.

Tossing the oven mitts on the table, she sighs. “Pasta isn’t your dish, babe. I love you and your cooking, so if you wanna help, pasta is not on the menu. Butttt a potato salad is and I’d really appreciate it if you made it the same way you did last month because I craved it for a week.”

Huffing, he nods. They had ONE incident with pasta and it’s only because he forgot to put the water in the pot before he lost control and shifted. The look on her face when she realized he was a wolf while smoke was bellowing from the kitchen window had him staying away from the kitchen for months on end.

“Sure,” he releases a tired sigh. Instead of turning it into an argument, Paul decided to just keep quiet. This dinner clearly triggered her in a somewhat different way; where he expected depression and doing it all himself with Emily’s tips and tricks, he received an overly anxious perfectionist who was driving him insane. But it’s her birthday…the first one since she lost her dad. It doesn’t matter how old you are when you lose a parent, especially when it’s the last parent you had, there will be a sadness that clings to your heart for a long time after. He remembers losing his mom, and later his dad, and he wasn’t prepared for either death. To this day, Paul wishes he had more time to spend with them, to ask them why.

Why didn’t his mother tell him she was dying of cancer when she decided to send Paul to live with his father? He could have been there with her in the last months of her life, to have used the time she had left better. That’s a luxury they stole from him…the luxury he didn’t have with his dad at all. The only comfort he has is how quick his father’s death was compared to his mother's. Sudden cardiac death takes moments, not excruciatingly painful months as metastatic breast cancer does.

So, yes. Paul has more understanding than Y/N thinks. The first birthday isn’t easy, especially for someone who has a close relationship with their parent. She hasn’t taken a proper breath the whole day, wasting away precious moments they could have spent together.

When he woke up, Paul found their bed empty. He cannot even try to guess how long she’s been up cooking and cleaning, all of the things he planned to do. He wanted to cook for her, for them all. Paul wanted to make this day as easy as possible for her, but he should have known better. Y/N does everything well, but relaxing is not her strongest suit.

“Jacob said he’s bringing a cake,” Y/N breaks the silence. “Apparently, Alice had seen it in her vision and bought it.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah,” she turns to face him. “Is it weird we didn’t invite the Cullens? I kind of feel bad for excluding them.”

Licking his lips, Paul shakes his head. “We’re all perfectly happy to be on friendly terms, but I wouldn’t put a family of vampires in the same room with shapeshifters who’re struggling with old urges right now. You did well.”

“Is it really that bad?” Y/N places the spoon on the counter, approaching Paul with genuine worry reflecting in her eyes. “Are you struggling?”

“Every day,” he admits with a tightlipped smile.

“You never told me,” she realizes. “I really need to do better.”

“It’s fine.”

“I wish it was,” she frowns. “What else do you struggle with?”

Glancing at her, he shrugs meekly. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation now.”

“Why?” Swallowing thickly, Y/N leans on her forearms. When Paul remains silent, she bows her head low. “I’m just gonna ask then. Are you still having those nightmares?”

Noticing his hand stop stirring, Y/N’s eyes widen. Paul’s jaw clenches and her lips part. They’re not out of the woods yet. She’s still marked for death. If anything, her father delayed her death for a little while. There’s not a single part of her that doubts she was the intended victim, but her father managed to protect her the only way he could – by sacrificing his own life.

Flashes of his ripped-open throat have her grabbing onto her stomach as nausea forces bile up her throat. Unable to run to the bathroom, it spills past her mouth into the sink and before she has a chance to take her next breath, Paul’s warm hand is splayed between her shoulder blades and the other is holding her hair back.

“Ugh,” she groans. “Throwing up in the sink is so fucked up,” she tries to laugh only to gag as she senses the smell of stomach acid. Paul lets the water run, running a wet hand across her face and neck. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I throw up thinking about it too.”

Looking up at him, she leans into his chest. “You could have said something.”

“Your dad was killed. It’s not a burden I was looking to share when you were already struggling.”

Inhaling sharply, she wraps her arms around him. “I’m strong enough,” she states. “I promise you can stop treating me like I’ll break if we argue or you have something on your mind. I don’t care how bad it is, I’m here for you.”

“Talking about your death isn’t something I like to do,” Paul pulls back lightly, his scowl playing with her heartstrings. He’s been so strong, but when will he let down his armor again? It can’t be good for him to bottle all this up.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“We’re having people over in two hours,” Paul reminds her.

“And we have made like five dishes already. We can order pizza if they eat everything prepared.”

Paul smiles seeing her relax for the first time that day. This is the Y/N he’s been missing. “The beach?”

“Of course!”

As the sun begins its descent beyond the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, they walk along the shoreline, entwined hands swaying gently like the rhythm of the waves as the ocean breeze plays with their hair. Little is said about the darkness they need to share, deciding to table it for another day. This is meant to be a moment for just the two of them – the couple who fell in love against all odds and chose to love each other every day continuously.

“It’s weird how this was meant to be the place we say our vows in,” she muses.

Pulling her closer, Paul closes his eyes. “Would have been beautiful,” the ache of unrealized dreams carries in his voice.

“I was so ready to call you my husband,” she confesses with a teasing smirk, a glimmer of playful light in her eyes.

Biting his lower lip, his eyes reopen, finding solace in the depth of hers. “I was already calling you my wife that day. It felt right.”

Staring at each other as the sun goes down, they smile longingly as if each glance is a rediscovery of love after the tragedy that stained their happiness.

“Let’s get married,” Y/N declares.

“I’d love to,” Paul places his hands on her hips, lightly pulling her in front of him.

“No, I mean would you like to marry me tonight?”

Caught off guard, Paul coughs as he nearly chokes on his saliva. He grabs her shoulders for support before cupping her cheeks, bending his neck to meet her eyes with furrowed brows. “Are you fucking with me?”

“I’m serious! We can have Sam marry us and then just file the paperwork tomorrow. I mean we have the marriage license; it’s not rocket science.”

Paul, running his tongue across his lips, takes a few bewildered steps to the left. Shaking his head in disbelief, he glances at her repeatedly, searching for any sign of it being a joke. But this isn’t a joke, this is real.

“Okay,” he finally utters, the shock evident in his nod.

“Okay?” Sparked by Paul’s unexpected agreement, a giggle bubbles forth from her, carrying genuine happiness. It’s infectious, dancing through the air, infusing the moment with warmth Paul is certain will linger in his memories.

“Yeah! Let’s get married tonight!”

A/N: Unfortunately Tumblr had been making me suffer regarding the tagging, and text limits. I am also aware it has been a while since I updated, so hope this was good enough of an apology.

PART 33

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom #wildest dreams fic #paul lahote series #twilight series #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote x imprint

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anna-hawk · 9 months

Text

Distraction

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank can be incredibly distracting without realizing it.

Warnings/Tags: pretty much silly PWP, vaginal sex, bearded Frank

WC 2,2k // Explicit 🔞

This was meant to be part of the Beardthal Bash, but I didn't have the time to finish it until now. It's inspired, once again, by the look Jon has in the GIF by @darlingshane just below. He makes me absolutely weak looking like this, and this little fic shows it 😅. Check out the full gifset for more drool worthy Jon.

Catching yourself staring again, you pressed your lips into a thin line in annoyance at yourself and dropped your eyes to the documents you were supposed to be going over on the coffee table.

“He’s only fixing a freaking shelf, get a grip,” you mumbled under your breath, while you tried picking up where you’d left off and adjusted your position on the couch.

You jotted down a few notes before you stopped to think, and your gaze automatically moved upwards to land on Frank. Again. Rubbing a palm over your forehead, you pursed your lips at your boyfriend, who was completely unaware of your predicament since he had his back to you. He had the day off and after running some errands earlier that morning, he’d decided to take up repairing that one bookshelf that always looked crooked for whatever reason. Nothing out of the ordinary. Yet, you were unable to not stare at him. The issue actually lay in how he looked. He’d let his hair grow out again, the soft strands falling to the sides or into his face, and he was sporting a nicely groomed beard instead of his usual thicker one. You loved the fuller beard, but the trimmed version definitely did something for his jawline. If that wasn’t enough, he’d gone for a pair of jeans that hugged his long legs and ass, while a red tee shirt spread over his back and chest. He looked completely at ease, since those clothes were comfortable and simple. There wasn’t anything fancy or specific about them, but the look as a whole was turning you on wildly and driving you to complete distraction. Something you really didn’t have the time for. You wanted to be done with that boring paperwork and move on. You had considered going into the bedroom, but you didn’t have enough space and the printer was in the living room and…

As Frank raked his fingers through his hair to push it out of his face, which caused the shirt to ride up and reveal a large part of his lower back, you threw your hands in the air with an explosive sigh.

“Frank?”

“Hm?” he replied distractedly, as he checked the level of the shelf.

“Would you mind finishing with the shelf a little bit later?”

Frank turned around and gave you a surprised look.

“Uh, sure? Am I makin’ too much noise?”

“What? No, no, you’re not. You’re just really distracting,” you said, before you could stop yourself.

“Distractin’?” He cocked an eyebrow and put the screwdriver on the shelf.

Your mouth worked silently and you ended only nodding. There was no way you were admitting to why he was so distracting.

Frank approached you with a partly curious and partly amused smile, his lips pulling up to one side.

“But I ain’t bein’ noisy,” he asked for confirmation.

“You’re not,” you replied with a faint nod as you glanced at the documents before you and not the gorgeous man coming closer.

How did your request of him to stop the repairs backfire on you like this? Now you didn’t only have him right in front of you, but you also had his full attention. Chancing a brief look up at him, you saw him watching you attentively, obviously waiting for you to elaborate.

“Your… shirt’s distracting me,” you blurted out stupidly.

“My shirt,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, just…” You made a shooing motion as you got up to head for the printer sitting on a small desk behind the couch, trying for nonchalant, but not succeeding in the least.

Frank snorted from behind you at your behavior, and you soon felt his presence at your back. Of course the man wouldn’t listen to you.

“So it’s just the shirt? What if I take it off?”

“No!” You whirled around with wide eyes, knowing that a topless Frank would only make things worse, especially when his scent was already doing things to you.

Frank smirked and narrowed his eyes at you.

“I meant that I could change into another one.”

You blinked at him and cleared your throat. “Oh… uhm… that’s…”

“Wanna tell me what exactly is distractin’ you, Sweetheart?” Frank asked, his voice lowering.

You were standing so close now and Frank’s eyes were boring into yours with an intensity only he knew how to use.

Briefly looking away with a huff of a laugh, you slightly pursed your lips and shrugged.

“You,” you muttered with a small wave to indicate his whole form.

“And how exactly? I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.” He tilted his head to one side, eyeing you curiously from under his lashes.

“Just don’t, Frank,” you groaned and closed your eyes for a second.

“Don’t what?” he chuckled.

He was the worst.

“Come on, I need to get this done,” you whined, lifting your hands to push at his chest as he moved in closer. Well, push really wasn’t the word, since you didn’t put a lot of force into it. At all.

“Tell me,” he coaxed with a rough voice, while he was leaning in to graze his lips over yours, his hands going to your hips.

“Frank, I need to finish this,” you whispered desperately, but Frank only kept going. “You just look fucking hot,” you finally admitted when his mouth trailed towards your jaw.

Frank lifted his face a bit to look at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you huffed through heavy breaths. “The hair, the beard, the shirt, the jeans… just… I need to finish filling those in, and you’re being so …ugh… Can you go do something else now?” you practically pleaded.

Frank laughed lightly under his breath, but instead of pulling away, he leaned in again. His tongue moved into action now, the tip gently stroking over your upper lip and making you whimper.

“Frank”, you tried, as your eyes closed on their own accord while Frank maneuvered you until you were standing with your back to the couch again. “Need to…”

“Yeah, I know, baby, but I don’ think you’d be able to concentrate now. How ‘bout you lemme take responsibility for distractin’ you?”

As he cupped one side of your face, his tongue licked over your bottom lip now. He hadn’t really kissed you yet, but you felt as winded as if he’d kissed you breathless. Your legs shook and it didn’t take any effort on his part to get you to sit down and lean back until you were lying flat on the couch with Frank slipping between your thighs.

“You’re leaving the apartment once we’re done,” you pouted while simultaneously wrapping your legs over the back of his thighs.

Frank’s loud bark of a laugh had your stomach jumping happily, right before your heart accelerated when Frank finally sealed your lips with his after he gave you a nod of agreement. His beard scraped over your mouth, and you loved the contrast of his soft lips and the coarser hairs of the short beard. You lifted your hands to his head and stroked your fingers through his hair, getting a low grunt from him whenever you pulled at it lightly. Frank made quick work taking off both of your tops, before his mouth was at your jaw once again and trailing a row of kisses all over it and down your throat. While he was busy driving you crazy with his mouth, his hands went to your pants to open them, before he leaned up far enough for him to pull them down along with your underwear. You were now fully naked under him, while he was still half clothed. The sight of him, with his flushed chest and large bulge in his jeans, had you squeezing his thighs with yours and reaching down for his fly. Frank grinned as he looked at your eager hands before he leaned down on top of you for another deep kiss. About to complain that he was stopping you from opening his jeans further, you could only gasp when one of his hands slipped between your legs and two large fingers stroked through your folds. Frank groaned into your mouth at your long moan of pleasure when his fingers slowly slid inside you one after the other.

“Frank, please,” you breathed through the kiss, as you gripped at his shoulders while he was gently fucking you with his fingers. “Please, don’t tease me.”

Frank made a soft humming sound before he lifted his head to slowly caress his lips over yours with the faintest of touches. For a second, you thought that he wouldn’t listen to you and tease you some more, something you usually did enjoy and Frank knew it, but he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he knelt up. Your hands instantly shot down again, finishing what they’d started as they opened the jeans all the way and then pushed them down as far as possible to free his length. As you leaned up to try to get the pants lower, Frank grasped your wrists and gathered them in one palm before he was pushing you down on the couch again, your hands held over your head on the armrest.

You could feel his breath hitting your skin as you both panted, your faces only a few inches away from each other, while Frank’s eyes bored into yours. Taking his weight on the hand holding yours captive, Frank used his other hand to guide himself inside you. You were unable to look away from his intense gaze as you gasped loudly when he slowly entered you, never stopping until his hips were flush with yours. Frank stayed like this for a few long seconds, until you keened and moved your hips instead, wordlessly begging him to move. Move he did, but he didn’t thrust. He gyrated his hips, grinding them into yours and making you feel his whole length as it moved inside you. It was the sweetest of torture, since it wasn’t enough to actually get you anywhere, but the pressure of his thick cock rubbing along your inner walls felt incredible all the same.

“Frank, please,” you repeated, while your legs wrapped around his hips, and you tried to use the leverage to move up and down a bit, but Frank forced your hips down.

You whined and looked into his eyes. You needed him to move so badly, it was driving you crazy.

“Frank,” you gasped, eyes wide. “Please. Need you to make me come. Need you so much.”

You knew that begging and asking for what you wanted would always get you exactly that, and you sometimes teased him with that knowledge, but you weren’t playing now. You truly needed him.

As expected, Frank instantly complied.

“Anythin’ you need, Sweetheart,” he rumbled, right before he pulled almost all the way out, only to snap his hips forward again.

You cried out in bliss as your legs trembled over the back of his thighs, while Frank thrust inside you over and over again.

“You gonna come for me like that?” he asked in a low voice, as he shifted his hips just so when he adjusted his grip on you.

You could only nod, wide-eyed, as you hurtled towards your release. The orgasm took your breath away completely, leaving you with your mouth parted, but with no sound coming out of it for the first few seconds. Your next inhale was a shuddering gasp and a long moan, your whole body trembling with the force of your pleasure. Through the intensity of it all, you barely had the time to see Frank’s eyebrows coming together as his eyes closed as he came as well, his warm release shooting far inside you. You caught his mouth with yours as he leaned down to share a long and uncoordinated kiss, before he pressed his forehead to yours. He let go of your hands after another beat, letting you stretch your arms out before you wrapped them under his arms and around his back to hold him to you.

“Think you can focus on those documents now?” Frank smiled, as he pressed a small kiss to your lips.

You groaned and shut your eyes at the reminder, which had Frank chuckling under his breath.

“Promise I’ll behave,” he added with a grin, as he rose but remained kneeling between your legs.

“Go put on a hoodie, yeah?” you grumbled half-heartedly, accepting the hand Frank was extending to help you up.

Frank nodded and vanished into the bedroom, while you headed into the bathroom to clean up.

As you walked back out a few minutes later, fully dressed and presentable again, ready to deal with the paperwork, you skidded to a halt at the sight of Frank.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you yelled, pointing at his chest. “You’re supposed to zip up the hoodie or put on a shirt and not…” you flailed your hands around. “Show off your chest, for crying out loud. Okay, out.” You pushed at Frank now, intending to have him leave like planned, but Frank laughed and caught your hands before kissing you on one corner of your mouth.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he amended, making a show of zipping the hoodie up over the top of his chest when it had been open far under it at first, showing far too much skin for you to handle.

“Thank you,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes and returned to the coffee table, sitting down in front of it.

Now, where did you stop again?

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle #reader insert #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #mes fics

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writingseaslugs · 2 years

Text

Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt: I can sit here? Deadass?

I’m sorry, but if a student pops up, upside down at lunch, and says I can join their table…imma do it. I don’t care about consequences. Imma make me some weird friends and nobody can stop that. Also, I have no idea if my beta fishies got to this. Nobody signed off so I'm just crossing my fingers. If there's errors, I do apologize.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series is aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post.

Lilia Vanrouge, Sebek Zigvolt, Silver: I Can Sit Here? Deadass?

“Are we not all students at the same academy? We at Diasomnia will always welcome you with open arms.” Lilia Vanrouge said, your first meeting with the man was already a strange one. You had almost spilled your lunch all over the table when he appeared out of nowhere. You and your new friends looked over at the table, and noticed a few Diasomnia students. Two, in particular, stood out. Both had very serious expressions, but you swore the one with silver hair was five seconds from passing out in his food.

“Those guys over there don’t look like they’d be very welcoming…” Deuce muttered, but you were now intrigued. You had been in this world for such a short amount of time, and nothing was going to stop you from meeting new and interesting people. This wasn’t like your old life back home, oh no, this was an opportunity you were planning on taking.

You heard Lilia laughing, “Apologies for dropping in on your meal. Until we-“ You didn’t mean to cut off Lilia, but you kind of just thought of what you said what you needed before thinking it over.

“Deadass?” You asked, turning to Lilia. The boy…no man stopped as he stared at you. He had a curious smile on his face, “Like deadass, they wouldn’t mind if I just got up and joined the table? No cap? Legit? We doin this?” You asked, causing Lilia to chuckle, covering his smile.

“What an interesting little human…why don’t we head over together and we can make proper introductions?” Lilia said, not expecting anyone to actually take the offer. Still, if you were willing to meet them, then who is he to say no. His sons needed more friends, and you were in the same year as Sebek.

“You’re talking all weird again…” Ace commented, but Cater was too busy snickering at the interaction. Ace then turned to Lilia, “And how did you understand half the things they just said?” You kept forgetting that some of the terms you used weren’t known here. Well, sucks to be them.

“Aight, let’s go.” You said, standing up from your table. Grim made a small, annoyed noise before turning to your food then back to you, “Yes Grim, have at it.” You said, deciding you’d rather follow Lilia. The short man chuckled again before guiding you over to the table. You swore, you could feel eyes on you as you approached the Diasomnia table. When you finally got there, right in front of the two interesting students you spotted earlier, you smiled.

“Silver, Sebek, I’d like to introduce you to the Ramshackle prefect.” Lilia said, waiting for you to give a proper introduction. You perked up, smiling wildly once you noticed how confused the two boys seemed at this new turn of event.

“Hello!” You said, introducing yourself properly by giving them your full name, “It’s a pleasure to meet you two!” You said, taking a seat. Lilia sat down next to you as the two men looked you over, wondering what was going on. The tired looking one was the first to respond.

“My name is Silver, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said, giving Lilia a curious look. He was wondering why his father decided to bring you over here, but Lilia looked like a proud cat right now, having just caught the largest fish ever. The angry looking crocodile finally snapped back into awareness as he stood up and put a fist over his chest.

“I am Sebek Zigvolt, one of Lord Malleus’s guards!” He shouted, and you knew the entire cafeteria could hear. What an interesting bunch, the overly loud one, the sleepy one, and the mischievous one.

“It’s nice to meet you two…so you’re a guard of…Malleus?” You asked, trying the name out. Sebek sat down and slammed his hands on the table. Lilia went to make a motion for him to calm down, but Sebek was in the zone now.

“How have you not heard of our Lord Malleus, the next in line for the throne in Briar Valley?” Sebek shouted again and you smiled.

“Well, I’m not from this world, so I don’t know who Malleus is, or Briar Valley.” You admitted and Lilia hummed at the thought.

“Briar Valley is where the three of us come from, it’s our home. Fae live over there, under the protection of the Queen of Roses. It’s a sight to see, perhaps some day you could visit.” Lilia said and you were more interested in another part.

“Fae?” You asked curiously and Sebek seemed even more miffed you didn’t know this. Lilia was just amused, having acknowledged you didn’t come from this world and therefore knew absolutely nothing about it.

“Yes, the fae, we’re different from humans.” Lilia explained, “If you’d like, I can give you a full history.” He inquired.

“I’d love that…wait so are you fae?” You asked, having noticed the sharper teeth and pointed ears earlier in the introductions. Silver seemed to be human, just like you, but Sebek seemed to be…on the cusp. He had unnaturally colored eyes, and his ears had the starts of a point, with sharper teeth. He still seemed more human when compared to Lilia though.

“I am, and Sebek over there is half-fae.” Well, that cleared up your suspicions, “Now where to begin? I guess we should start with exactly what a fae is, and then discuss Briar Valley.” And thus began the most informative lunch you had ever had. You only felt a bit bad for leaving your boys to figure out the Riddle situation themselves. You could catch up in your next period together…this Diasomnia group was far more interesting though.

Are you a fan of Diasomnia like me? I bet you are if you read my content (we love the boys in this household). Want to support a visual novel that will feature Diasomnia dorm, has multiple routes and endings, as well as some spicy visual scenes? Check out @twstfournights and if you want info, check out their announcement post!

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST #TWST x Reader #TWST Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Disney #TWST Disney #Lilia Vanrouge #Lilia Vanrouge x Reader #Lilia x Reader #Silver x Reader #TWST Silver #Twisted Wonderland Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #Sebek Zigvolt x Reader #Sebek x Reader

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