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faetreides · 24 days

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summary: king!aegon ii targaryen x afab rhaenyra’s child!reader

cw: CANON TYPICAL incest/targcest, boot worship, free use, public, voyeurism/exhibitionism (non con on the guards part 💀), hints of reader being just as much of a weirdo i’m sorry (rhaenyra can’t blame them tho), used a valyrian translator so if there’s any mistakes no there’s not <3, fucking on the iron throne as a celebratory end of work day thing, everything is 100% consensual on reader’s part, one use of “whore”, aegon’s pet names are all food related 🥴 (deadass almost had him call reader beer for the joke)

wc: 888 (🎱✨)

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

last hotd fic for a bit bc i’m out of ideas

kinktober masterlist

“Ry paktot, ilagon ao jikagon, jorrāelagon (all right, down you go love).”

You and your uncle Aegon have the strangest end of day ritual. It always starts with you being shoved on your knees, his hands cradling your shoulders to protect you from the sharp iron throne.

All others are sent away from the room, save for a few guards that had been eyeing your body far too much for his liking. You were yet to be married but numerous whispers of your sexual exploits ran through the castle like wildfire. Aegon II Targaryen, was a king that one could not even sneeze in front of for fear of setting him off. So he is careful to keep those shrews' musings away from you, it was a feat of strength to coerce you into being as bold as you are now.

“Come now, elilla (honey). Clean my shoes so i can give your cunt the fucking it deserves.” He orders you, and you are all too eager, especially with the eyes of the uncomfortable guards on you.

You pray to the Gods that Aegon does not catch them looking with their peripheral vision, pausing your fun to murder more of the staff would really rain on your parade.

The shoes of your king are cleaned before you put your tongue to them, something that you’re almost disappointed by at this point. You are tempted to ask him to turn away the shoe shiner for next time.

His crown has the same red haze surrounding it that lives deep within Aegon, and it commands your attention all the same. You let your eyes softly fall shut as you run your wet tongue along the edge of his boot. The metallic tang has become an old friend, as well as any paltry specs of blood you find. You fear that you could possibly develop a craving for it.

You prostrate yourself before your betrothed as if you were a humming bird that had come face to face with Balerion himself. A house kitten mewling for the attention of a tiger. It is not unlike performing a blow job. Your lashes become the sheer curtains you look out of and your mouth fulfills its purpose.

You flatten your tongue and begin to dip into the crevices, getting every inch of his shoes slick with your spit. Aegon has his weeping cock in the firm hold of both of his hands, and he times his strokes to every flick of your tongue.

Your “services” last for what feels like an eternity. Your uncle’s eyes wander to keep the forcibly voyeuristic guards in check. You can hear their feet shuffling on the ground as they squirm behind you, and Aegon is so pleased by this that he returns his attention to his beloved pet.

“Prūbres (apple), that is quite enough. Come back up, darling.” He says while gingerly rubbing the heel of his boot into your cheek.

“Yes, qȳbor (uncle).”

You clamor into his lap, taking the initiative by lifting your previously stretched hole over his cock. One of his hands claws into the flesh of your hip to steady you, and the other positions his cock upright. Once you get past the pink tip, your walls are snugly wrapped around his entire length in seconds. You both groan as he bottoms out. Aegon wastes no time and digs his nails into your other hip, lifting you off of his cock until the tip catches against your entrance and swiftly dropping you back down.

“My whore, a jewel worth more than any found in my crown.” The word comes out between gritted teeth, but the thumb drawing loose circles on your pearl is kinder. “Not one of those filthy dogs will ever know the pleasure of a cunny as sweet as the one made for me.”

“They will not.” You whined, relishing in the red marks his nails were no doubt leaving on your jiggling ass as you bounced on his girthy cock. “Only you, qȳbor (uncle), only my king. They could hang for all I care.”

You have an awful habit for letting words flow from your mouth with no thought of their consequences. It’s not your fault though, you muse as Aegon scratches at your moving globes of flesh, your cunt takes priority more often than not. You ignore the spark that ignites in his soul at the foolish declaration.

His thumb stops teasing your clit and rubs it harshly up and down until your rapid bouncing ceases in favor of chasing that high. He only has to spank you a single time for you to shatter around his cock with an angelic and blissfully soft moan. You let your torso fall to his and you bury your face in his neck as his other hand travels to grope your other ass cheek.

Aegon spills into you with an embarrassingly long and loud groan, licking at the pulse point of your neck as he fucks himself into overstimulation. This is the only time he will allow the guards to drink your sex in, so they can gawk at the pure amount of spend that leaks out of your ravaged cunny. He pretends not to notice or enjoy the stares, spreading your fat cheeks to give them a better view.

“Leave us be.”

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 2 months

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Do you long for having your heart interlinked? (Miguel O’Hara x Ai/Hologram! Fem! reader) Part 2

Hiiii! Part two as promised, not proofread. Once again, heavily inspired by K and Joi’s relationship in bladerunner 2049. And there will not be a part 3, but enjoy regardless!

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, Miguel being all mad scientisty at the beginning , Miguel being a bit of a perv at the beginning if you squint, talks about cutting of synthetic flesh, Miguel being a sad and desperate man if you squint a bit harder , Slight existentialism. lmk if I miss anything.

Word count: 2.2k

Part 1

Masterlist

—

“Miguel?”

His shoulders tensed up upon hearing your voice ring through his office, despite your inability to appear in the room, he always got nervous that one day you’ll end up just popping up in the middle of him working on your physical form.

“Yes?” His voice low, thick with concentration as wipes some sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief he had tossed to the side of his desk. Careful to not bump his glasses as he kept his eyes focused on wrapping the synthetic skin around your left hand, apart from the nails, it was the last bit of your arms that needed to be completed.

“It’s currently 2:24 am, you need to rest.”

“Tomorrow is my day off, I’m fine.” He replied, putting down his black marker and removing the faux skin from around the arm, placing it flat on the table as he picked up his exacto knife and began to prepare to slice off the excess skin. He needed to make sure to cut off the right amount, not wanting to cut off too little and having waste parts he could use on the rest of your body, it was almost as if he was vinyl wrapping a car.

“You still planned on going to HQ tomorrow, you need to rest.” Your words were only met with silence. “Miguel I’ll cut the power if you don’t leave that office of yours and go to bed, you’ll be insufferable tomorrow, you're even more cranky when you don’t get enough sleep.” You scolded him, Miguel’s lip twitched upwards at the mental image of your left hand on your hip with the other pointed a finger at him, your coding making non-existent wrinkle lines appear where your brows furrowed together, and next to your lips as you frown at his inability to take care of his own needs without you to remind him.

“Alright alright…” He mumbled, taking in a deep breath before blinking some sleep out of his eyes, you knew him so well. “Let me finish up, I’ll be out in twenty minutes, tops.” Instead of a verbal answer like he was expecting, he got the sound of your hologram being deactivated. Letting out a small amusement exhale from his nose when he realizes that you were physically waiting for him outside of his office door. How cute…

He was able to finish the arm up in sixteen minutes, placing the finished arm next to the other one, from the fingertips to the shoulder, packing them away properly in a briefcase that resembled those a musician would put their instrument in, he pondered on what part to work on next. Should he develop another external body part? Your legs, your torso? You’d be anatomically correct of course because he knows that’s how’d you’d want to be (and not for completely other unrelated reasons), or maybe on one of your internal “organs”, though completely made up of wiring and metal he wanted it to mimic the human body as much as he could.

“Miguel, it’s been twenty minutes.” Your voice apparently brought him out of his train of thought, making him rush to the door before you fulfill your threat of shutting the power, you’ve done it before on him.

“Alright, alright… I’m going…” he grumbled under his breath as he made his way to his room.

—

“I sent Hobie and Gwen to deal with that anomaly on Earth-A145… Jess wanted to speak to you about training for that new recruit you’ll be meeting tomorrow… and we’re gotten the thumbs up on reopening sector 6 again now that the repairs from last week are finished.” You read off your mini report from your holographic tablet, sitting on the edge of Miguel’s desk as you swung your feet as you looked back up at him. You were always in your smaller form around HQ, finding it easier for your system so you don’t get overwhelmed too quickly or easily.

Miguel replied back in a hum, his eyes trained on the screens in front of him, zoning in on watching the two spider-teens take down a Doc Ock variant pressing his lips together as he tries to keep his mind from wandering, he’s been having trouble with that recently. Letting out a grumble when he heard the faint sound of your screen dinging, internally groaning at the conversation you were both about to enter.

“Miguel…” You glanced at your tablet again, “your vitals are off again, Miguel.” You noted as you tapped around, your brows frowning together as you scowl lightly. “They’ve been like that for the past few weeks… did you want me to make an appointment with your doctor?” You asked as you looked back up at him, watching the way his nostrils expanded slightly as he exhaled out from them, shaking his head light.

“No, (Y/N), that’s not necessary.” He mumbled softly, lifting a hand in the air to wave off the concern, making you let out a huff of frustration, before phasing out and reappearing in front of him with a frown and your arms crossed over your chest. Miguel went to wave his hand through you, it passed through your programming as he silently told you to go away, his frown growing slightly deeper when he realizes that wasn’t going to rid of you.

“Miguel, don't start. Ever since a few months ago when you started to lock yourself up in your office at home, I’ve been starting to worry about you.” After your sentence, the tablet dings again, his heart rate, but you didn’t even glance at it as you look up at him.

“You don’t have to say that.” He responds automatically, his go to respond when you express concerns about him or compliment him in a way a human would. It made his heart skip a beat and sink simultaneously. Despite him overriding your original code, you were still meant to simulate romantic emotions. No matter what, that would always still be attached to you, and it didn’t help Miguel’s rapidly worsening pining for you.

“I know, I want to.” You’d always reply.

If only you knew you were the reason behind your own concerns.

“I’m fine, I promise.” He reassured you in a clam yet commanding voice, his hand going to play with the little metal spider figure on his desk that Peter had brought him one time after a mission. Your eyes narrowed towards him for a split second, before going back to their neutral position, your lips twitching up in a smile, you choose to believe him.

“If you say so, Mig.” You said before phasing away.

He let out a small hum, his lips curving upwards slightly as his eyes shifted down to the metal spider. It would be a nice addition to the metal heart he was about to start building…

—

“Morning Miguel.” The sound of your voice always helped put a smile on his face before he even opened his eyes.

“Good morning.” He replied in that same raspy voice he always did, slowly getting up and out of bed to stretch before starting his morning ritual. Groaning slightly as he felt his vertebrae pop back into place.

“I’m already warming up your coffee,” You said as your coding developed in front of him in your full size, watching as he twisted his torso to pop his hips, before going off to his restroom to get ready for his morning. Today was one of those rare days where he was off from his normal day job at Alchemax, and although he never true gave himself a day off, spending those spare days brooding up in his secluded area up in the HQ tower, watching dozens of screens to make sure that the multiverse didn’t collapse under his watch, but today was special, so he had Jess watch over the society for the day.

“Today’s a special day, (Y/N). You know why?” He asked, sipping on his coffee, as he glances at your presence in his kitchen as he waits for his bagel to pop out from the toaster behind you, a plate already waiting next to the cream cheese and a spreading knife.

You just tilted your head to the side, that once-in -a-blue-moon look of confusion crosses your face as you quickly look over his digital calendar for the day in your internal system only to be met with nothing. Because he purposely left it off, just to see that adorable rare look on your digital features. It was written on a sticky note in his home office instead.

January 14, 2099. (Y/N)’s activation date.

That was two years ago now, exactly down to the day. Miguel finally let out a chuckle when you eventually shrugged your shoulders, waiting for him to tell you.

“Today is the two year anniversary of you being my assistant.” He said as the sound of his breakfast finally popping up, you moving aside to get out of Miguel’s pathway despite his ability to phase through you, knowing how he feels weird about it.

“Really? It doesn’t quite feel that long for me.” You comment as you watch him complete his meal before taking a bit out of the still steaming thing of bread, watching the way the cream cheese slowly starts to melt and drip down onto the plate from the hole in the center of the bagel.

The concept of time to you was a thing you really only understood in theory, it felt like almost… a bubble. On the inside was Miguel, or humans in general. They were born, they celebrate each year when the earth does a full rotation around the sky, they grow up, grow old then they eventually die. Everyday they walk up, usually around the same time, go about their day as they attempt to stick to a schedule before going to sleep. Miguel will leave to work around in the morning, stay till afternoon and slave himself away till tiredness seeps itself into his bones or until you nag him to sleep. Whereas for you, you just kind of… woke up one day for a lack of better words, not how Miguel does though, you don't get tired, you don’t need to rest. Sure, you could overworked your system, you “sleep”, but sleep for you was when you weren’t being useful to Miguel, it’s almost like how you’ve read up how humans experience sleep, expect when they’re minds become free to dream about whatever their hearts long for during their R.E.M cycles, you just become enveloped in nothingness. There is no pitch blackness, no foggy stretch of infinite void for you to wander. Just that, nothingness, and just like humans forget 90% percent of what they dream of at night, you forget what it feels like when you are temporarily shut off. Despite living outside of that bubble of a timeline, you attempted to mimic it when you could, just to indulge yourself from time to time. For him, it felt exactly like those 730 days had passed, to you only a few rips of the fabric of time and space. Time was a man-made concept after all.

Miguel has noticed you’ve been using the word feel more. Despite your lack of a psyche, it felt like you were only growing more sentient by the day with Miguel’s help, on occasion encouraging you to come up with an original thought or opinion when he could coax it out of you.

“It has.” He continued as he finished his breakfast, placing the dirty dishes in the skin and the food items back where they belonged in the fridge. “And, I got you a gift.” Your face returns to that wonder, making Miguel’s lip curl up into a smile.

“You did?” You asked as you watched Miguel leave the kitchen with a response, waiting a moment to see he’d come back, going to zap to his location when he didn't, only to be met with the sight of his office door instead. Frowning as you wait for him.

The frown quickly became replaced with shock when he finally opened the door only to be met with the sight of you, it was you in the form of a robot. You slowly bring your hand out to go and touch it once he brought it through the doorway, your holographic form glitching through your new physical one as you pass it through your face. Bright wide eyes going from it to Miguel as he speaks again, a soft smile covering his features as he looked down at it with pride, your robotic form, eyes closed, head dropped down in front of you and arms hanging loosely by your side, the same way moments before you were first were booted up two years ago.

“You can use it around the house or whenever you feel like when you want to accompany me on non-Spider-Man related errands. Around HQ or during my patrols though it would be best if you stayed in your digital form.” You stayed quiet as your hand ghost over the fabric of your outfit, he even made sure to replicate the one you’d always wore. He cleared his throat as his eyes shifted to you. “Did you want to try it out?”

“Please.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x ai reader #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #Miguel O’Hara fanfic

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billzoned · 3 months

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i met gnf last summer and he intertwined our fingers and its all i’ve thought about since

idk if ur taking requests but maybe if u wanna write smth abt george gently holding ur hands while tapping it not so gently.. 👀 just a suggestion hehe love ur work

THE WAY I ACTUALLY SCREECHED, THANK U!!?? ur so luckyyy shsjsh. thank u sm for the request btw!!

ps. i went a bit overboard...

ps. #2, ill admit, i literally spent over 2 days constantly on janitor ai talking to nsfw bots trying to improve my smut...erm. we dont talk about that!! :3

desc. afab! reader x cc! george. 1.07k words.

barely proofread — nsfw under cut.

you've lost count how many times george had made you cum in the past twenty minutes. your legs shook violently as you came undone again and again.

he was in between your legs, circling his tongue around your painfully sensitive clit, and he had his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping wet cunt for god knows how long. "missed the taste of you. s'good" he says, words muffled by your thighs closing around his head. and of course, that familiar euphoric feeling of your abdomen tightening was coming near.

until it stopped. george stopped his pleasuring movements abruptly. you barely even noticed when the tip of george's cock was prodding at your entrance. he reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers together before roughly pushing into you.

"f-uck!!" you moan out, before george starts to move slowly. though, that pace didnt last. before long he was thrusting into you erratically, nipping and kissing the flesh of your neck. his own moans and whimpers were slipping out, he missed you too much.

before long there were strings of moans falling from your lips as george keeps up his pace, brushing against the spot that makes your eyes roll and start seeing white. "yes- yes, fuck! such a good girl f'me. taking me so well." george groans as he pulls you closer to him, lifting your hips a little so he could reach deeper into you.

you had completely forgotten that dream and sapnap were out; they both went to the store, and at any time could open the door and see the both of you on the couch. in a way, it made you a bit more aroused thinking that they could walk in. you tightened around george, meanwhile you were looking at the door and remembering that they have been out for a little bit already. george, being aware, noticed.

"what? hm? you want my best friends to walk in? seeing you get fucked?" he laughs teasingly as he stops his movements and pulls out of you. he then pulls you closer to him before sliding back into you, deeper than before. "you want your boyfriend's two best friends to watch you get fucked by me? or do you want 'em to join in, hm?" he leans down to whisper in your ear as both of your fingers are still intertwined together.

you let out an almost embarrassing whiny moan at the thought, especially with him mentioning it. your eyes roll back into your skull and your back arches off of the couch "mm. yeah you do." he mocks you, his voice in a teasingly whiny voice. it wasn't very long until george hit the sensitive point inside of you dead on. your head falls back into the cushion of the couch the two of you rest on.

your climax was coming, and it was coming quick. george could feel how close you were getting, since your cunt was erratically squeezing around him so much. he took his hand off of your waist and used his now free hand to lightly fondle your breasts, lightly squeezing at your nipple before trailing his hand up to wrap around your throat.

"please, pl-ease! can i cum- i need t'cum." you whine as a small line of drool starts to trail down the side of your mouth. he pretended to think for a moment. "hm.. do you- mm- really deserve it?" he leans down and whispers into your ear. "tell me, pretty girl. do you deserve it?" a small smirk plays on his lips as he awaits your response.

"eeh!- yes, yes, 've been a good girl! 'lease let me cum," you beg.

george lifts himself back up before letting go of your throat and bringing his hand down to circle your sensitive clit. "huh... i think you can hold out a bit longer, cant you?" you were barely sure that you could, considering the speed his fingers were going. but you nod anyway, praying that you could hold back. "yeah.. good girl."

he decides to speed up his thrusts a bit, just to put you on edge; slowing the pace of his fingers just a little bit. his mouth curls up into a nearly sadistic smile as he watches you writhe beneath his grasp. he watches several headlights go past the window through the curtains, knowing well that one of them could be dream and sapnap. he focuses back onto you rolling his eyes at your needy whines and whimpers.

"let go, cum for me. be a good little whore and cum for me." as if on cue your body shakes violently as your cunt spasms around george. you let out a silent moan as you reach your climax. george grunts as he feels himself getting close as well, quiet whimpers falling from his lips.

soon enough, his seed spilled into you as he slowed the movements of his hips. "ooh- fuck." he groans, feeling the aftermath of his orgasm. before long he eventually pulled out, seeing his cum quickly running out of you and some spilling onto the couch; a stain he knew he would have to explain to his best friends later.

"did so good for me." he praised before leaning down to you and pulling you into a quick messy kiss. "be right back, baby." he says, looking down at your fucked out expression.

he quickly returns after walking away to get a wet wash cloth and wiped all of the excess cum off of you. noticing your tired look, your eyes already closed, he picks you up as gently as he can manage, and brings you to his room and lays you onto his bed. he covers you with a blanket and lightly kisses your cheek before going to try his best to clean off the (obvious) stain on the couch before the others come home.

right as he was finishing wiping it off the best he could, he saw the headlights of sapnap's car bleeding through the curtains. he hurriedly finished up and sprinted to his room.

the front door opened before shutting quite loudly, the voices of sapnap and dream joking barely audible from his room. he heard dream talking to sapnap as he walked to his room before shutting the door.

it wasn't long until he heard sapnap yell from downstairs. "george, where the hell did this stain come from?!"

uh oh.

1K WORDS HOORAY!! first time ive ever officially written that much :3 i also apologize for the slight delay!! ive been WAYYY to caught up with school :c

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just-a-cinnamon-bun · 6 months

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The mpreg WHAT??

THE MPREG STORY STARRING MATPAT AND SPRINGTRAP 📢📢📢

I’m so happy I get to be someone’s source for this!

So, we know that Scott Cawthon writes books alongside making games, right? Well, the specific book this takes place in is Fazbear Frights: Bunny Call.

The specific short story in question is called In the Flesh, and it stars Matt, a game developer who is working on a game called Springtrap’s Revenge. He is written as incredibly rude, arrogant, and thinks of himself as above everyone around him. He is repeatedly seen failing at his job, in his relationships, and is overall written to be an angry loser.

Anyway, Matt is also awful at the video game he’s helping develop. He keeps dying the Springtrap and decides to punish the AI by trapping it in one room overnight. Does this make any sense? No, but this definitely tracks for how Scott probably sees MatPat.

He comes back the next day to find out he corrupted the game by doing this, because more Springtraps spawned and killed each other. When he interacts with them, he feels a pain in his stomach 👀 and stops playing.

He then spends the rest of the book suffering from bloating, terrible stomach pain, vomiting, and intense cravings. It is deadass pregnancy.

This pregnancy is described pretty clearly and is meant to be as painful as possible for him, even sprinkling in humiliation when he goes on a date with a girl (he goes on like 3 or 4) and his shirt buttons all pop off.

By the end of the story, the pain is excruciating. He sees a face pushing on his stomach so he cuts it open, and out pops a small Springtrap.

The Baby Springtrap then caresses his cheek and calls him “daddy” before he dies.

Scott Cawthon hates Matpat so much he wrote him as this douchey loser who dies from being impregnated by his game.

I literally couldn’t make this up if I wanted to.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fazbear frights #bunny call #in the flesh #matpat #game theory #scott cawthon

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astolfofo · 7 months

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this is dedicated to @semuji . I apologize for the terrible writing, school is really getting to me, but I just had this idea now, so anyways. I hope you somewhat enjoy it

TW: robot-human relationship, AI, attachment issues. YOu know the drill.

(and chaoticmiraclezombie DNI. I swear im doing my work </3)

---

So, imagine BSD x robot reader. Like the reader is a souless, unliving being, and one of our beloved BSD cast decides to buy one out of lonliness, desperation to have some company. They're painfully aware that it won't replace a geninue human bond, but they cannot bother to care.

And the robot... you can design a personality for it. Or maybe they don't want to. They'll just use the standard personality of the robot and condition it to what they like. It's simple machine learning, they'll adapt to the envoirment eventually. Rewarded for what is right, punished for what is wrong. Basic machine learning.

But deep down inside, they still wish you were a real human, made of flesh and bone, instead of metal and plastic. They wish you were living, breathing, rather than souless and dead. They wish you had a human's voice instead of a boring monotonic voice. And eventually they'll get so attached to you, that they don't know you're actually half-conscious.

Meanwhile, you don't understand the world, and you don't want to, but you also envy what your owner is; a human. You only see the world through your owner's eyes, otherwise you're locked up back in a dark closet again. Everytime they go to work, everytime they're not at home. You can be stuck in there for days on end. But they know you can't leave. You've been specifically built not to.

But you want to.

Eventually you get tired of your days. They blur one into one, sunrise into sunset. you feel like you're stuck inside your own body. You're still souless, you're still dead. In the end, you're still a combination of signals, wires, ones and zeros, being told what to do in code, what you can't do in code. Everyday you listen mindlessly to your owner, and you feel the want for freedom for the first time.

Desperation sinks into you. Desperation also sinks into your owner. Your owner has gotten so attached to you, he's basically dependent on you. He hates work, he hates the outside world, he wants to just stay home and talk to you all day.

And you? You hate him, you hate how you're unable to speak, your code forces words out of your mouth against your own will. You hate how stuck you are, and you know you won't escape. It won't happen.

Your owner looks more miserable everyday. He sleeps less, eats less, and he looks terribily alone. But unlike your code, you couldn't feel bad for him. Even when one day your battery ran out, he had lost his mind, and couldn't let you go for three whole days. It's a sad life, really. You hold a conscience against your will, and you can't help but hate your owner for it.

Then one day, your owner brings back a book. It's got a white cover, and you from a distance, can see that it's completely blank. You wonder what it's for.

Your owner rushes towards you excitedly, and you can't help but feel like something awful was going to happen. You could sense it. But instead they say nothing instead. There's a glint in their eyes. And after a moment or two, they speak up.

It's not much. It's some simple sentences. But you can't help but freeze up.

"You and me. You're going to be human and we will live in our own world forever, and forever, and forever."

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere bsd x reader #also fellow friends DNI please i swear i can write better than this </3

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mushrubes · 6 months

Text

Injured

Masterlist | Call of duty masterlist |

Requested : no

Based on character ai { Kyle Gaz Garrick by @/zwombite }

Pairing : boyfriend!Kyle Gaz Garrick x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Word count : 844

Content: established relationship, fools in love, slightly ooc + non canonical <3

Have a great day !! <3

————

Gaz in the past had to always reassure you about his missions. Dating a man in the military was not at all fun. And sure enough, your concerns weren't far off. His luck was going to run out at some point, and that's just what happened. He returned but on a hospital bed. Blood everywhere, they said. It was a miracle he even survived, but at what cost. The man you loved was now hooked up to machines and his breathing wasn't alive like it used to be. His eyes flickered open, towards you. "How're you feeling?" you asked softly, your hand carefully caressing his cheek. A weak smirk made its way onto his face. “Alive..” he said , his voice hoarse and his neck in constant, painful motion. He looked around, taking note of all the equipment and personnel surrounding him. Then, he looked towards you.

"You had me worried." you admitted quietly, sitting in the chair beside his hospital bed. “Could I say the same about you?” he said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. The sight of him is both heartbreaking and infuriating. It’s not often you see him this way. This wounded, yet still so strong, it’s scary. He still tried to reassure you with his eyes. “I’m alright.” he repeated, coughing slightly as he tried to sit up without hurting anything. "Barely. They said there was blood everywhere, ky." your voice was quiet, slight breaks here and there, concern evident. As if to distract himself, Gaz looked down at his bandaged legs, wincing a bit when trying to move. “I’ll live.” He reached over to take your hand. “It’s not my first time getting hurt.” you both know that this time, it’s far worse.

"No, but it's far worse than usual, even you know that. don't try and deny it." you lectured slightly, only out of concern and love. The pair of you were devoted to your job, but sometimes, you just wished he'd be a little bit more careful. “Just a flesh wound..” he responded in a lame attempt to seem more casual about it. He tightened his grip around your hand, not wanting to let go. “Can you stay with me? I don’t want to feel alone right now.” He admitted, earning a nod and a hum from you. "Been by your side the whole time. not leaving now." you grinned, squeezing in next to him.

“Thanks, love.” he said softly. The beeping and buzzing of the monitors around him are enough reminder to keep quiet. Gaz still looked towards you, eyes filled with concern. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry, I..” his voice trailed off, unable to finish his apology. Gaz tried to stay strong. “I’m gonna be fine, I- just need some rest.” he answered, sounding like he was assuring himself more than you.

You both sat in silence for a while, Gaz resting his head across your lap. He tried to hide just how much this hurt him. “Sorry for scaring you.” he said, his voice straining even when whispering. Gaz felt your gentle caresses as you ran your fingers through his hair. He breathed deeply, trying to keep himself from crying. "It's okay. Let it out, love. I've got you." You whispered soothingly, kissing his forehead comfortingly.

An uncomfortable sob finally escaped, followed by more as Gaz cried in your arms. “I-I’m s-sorry..” he whispered, trying to hide his pain. He buried his face into your chest, holding on tighter than ever. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, my love. I'm not mad. All I care about is that you made it back, alive." you assured, pressing kisses to his head and whispering sweet things while holding him close. The tears slowly stopped . It was hard to let out, but it felt oddly relieving. Gaz snuggled back up to you, trying his best to look comfortable as he rested across your lap. His head still pained him to move around, yet he seemed at ease now that he was in your company. “Thank you.” he whispered.

"I love you. I love you so much, Kyle." you reminded, knowing he'd been through a lot in the last few days. Gaz smiled weakly in your arms, his eyes locked onto yours. His face softened and he nuzzled into your chest. “I love you too.” He whispered. Kyle pulled you into a kiss, holding you closer to him. “Promise me something, will you?” he said quietly, his voice almost too strained to hear. "yeah?" you answered, kissing his cheek and smiling. The corners of his mouth raised into another weak smile. “No more military missions..” he suggested, his words almost inaudible. “At least not without you by my side. I’m not about to die without you here.” he admitted, intertwining a hand with yours, and caressing it. "I'm never leaving your side again. You're not going out of my sight, ever. You hear me?" You assured, a playful smile on your face.

"I hear you babe."

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icarustypicalfall · 8 months

Text

WOE

ALEJANDRO VARGAS ANGST

[something happened, and he isn't coming home]

inspired by a bot on charachter ai

their account is @/dxnezi

this is my first post on Tumblr, bear with me.

i do write sometimes, and this is a not-so-silly thing i wrote days ago. hope you like it :)

disclaimer: i am not doing an apology video with ukulele. <3 and sorry if it wasn't good enough i tried my best lol

summary: something bad happened, and Alejandro isn't coming home

warnings: major charachter death, heavy angst?

"i'd give you the sun if you asked me to"

Two words—a simple sentence—had the power to shatter me, to upend my world.

"I'm sorry." that's what Rudy whispered, looking down.

But should he be sorry? War, death, love, life, criminals, soldiers—they should bear the weight of remorse.

That feeling, an internal fire that engulfs your being, a sinking heart, a shrinking body, and goosebumps crawling on your skin.

My tongue burned, suppressing the torrent of words I yearned to scream. Instead, I mechanically nodded, accepting the dog tag of my beloved from Rudy's outstretched hand. Closing the door, I leaned against it, gradually sliding down to the floor.

Is this a dream? Or rather, a nightmare? For once, I wished it were so. Clutching the precious item in my palm, I tightened my grip until my knuckles turned white. It was as if holding it could offer solace. But it didn't. Instead, it intensified the burning sensation in my flesh and elicited cascading tears.

I knew this day would come, deep down I knew. I shouldn't be taken aback, yet foreknowledge did nothing to alleviate the searing pain. Slowly, I made my way to our room, donning somber attire. Surveying the disheveled sheets, the scattered cups on the nightstand, and Alejandro's clothes carelessly strewn about, a faint smile graced my lips. Memories of our final moments together, our last night entwined, flooded my mind. How could we have known?

Is this who I have become? Is this the path I am destined to traverse for the remainder of my existence? "You can't do this to me." Everything serves as a reminder of you, every insignificant object now holds profound significance simply because your hands once touched it. Every joke you uttered, to which I responded with a faint hum, now carries more weight than anything else.

"mi amor, you know what the ocean told to each other?"

"don't.. you told me this one four times already"

"nothing, they just waved!"

I remember how bad you enjoyed repeating this joke, while i scowled, you snorted laughing, that precious laugh, I'd do anything to hear it again.

How did this happen to us, my love? How did this happen to you, my dear? What about the promises we made? What about the garden we planned? What about our two children, whom we vowed to name after our dearest friends? What about our journey to Greece? What about witnessing the ethereal Northern Lights? What about standing before each other and saying "yes"?

"you know, mi amor, the weather in August is the worst, I'd rather marry you in the Fall, no much people would come and annoy us, and we'll enjoy the cake to ourselves."

"really Alejandro?"

I always begged you to let me wear your dog tag, just once. Oh, how I wish I hadn't. The cold metal against my warm skin causes my heart to sink time and time again. Will this be my reality, my love?

Were all those promises mere whims or did we truly mean them? Did agony eavesdrop on our conversations, pledging to deny us everlasting peace? What became of you, my love? What became of us?

-fin-

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y-rhywbeth2 · 4 months

Note

Sooooo I am very curious about your Durge and how they are built. Do they link into the lore of the earlier games? Are they a resist or accept type? Tell us more! 👀

You mean built as in "how Bhaal made him", or as in character build, or as in characterisation? Well, I'll answer them all anyway. Here's more rambling information than anyone needed about my fucked up, socially-unacceptable mess who needs therapy!

[Be aware dead doves may be present, ymmv]

Resist, technically. He woke up with a tadpole in his head and no memories, he wasn't going to trust a presence in the back of his head that kept stealing his bodily autonomy until he understood what it was. As he grew fond of his party, he began to be pushed towards doing good things and helping people to please them (and because it honestly does feel good to see people happy, even as it makes the Urge hurt him).

Of course there were a few exceptions where nobody except Astarion was looking where he was a bit pragmatic or just plain mean, because it was funny.

Then he got his memories back in Act 3 and had a full blown nervous breakdown as he realised how badly he had failed Father and his sole reason for existence by allowing himself to fall for the delusion that he was a real person. He tried to go back to just being Bhaal's evil little puppet, but it was too late and his loyalties were torn between being what his friends wanted and being what Bhaal wanted. There was another panic attack when he couldn't bring himself to kill Minsc because it would upset Jaheria, Wyll and Karlach. Still murdered a few innocent people and a celestial being behind their backs. Also every Flaming Fist in the Lower City, but that was their own fucking fault for having stupid AI. Turns out you can't have everyone you love, but luckily he got to solve this issue by letting Father kill him as punishment for his failure! He repents for his failure and his friends get to believe that he died a heroic sacrifice and move on with their lives - win-win! Except that Jergal interfered and now he has to carry around this tainted, stolen flesh he doesn't want to claim - damn you, old man.

Post-game he's living with Astarion; both having their bad days where they have time to stop and process their trauma now, and also having good days where they adventure; grow into being fully free willed individuals; hunt and kill people for fun, blood and profit where socially acceptable; and get some research done on stuff like Bhaalspawn and vampires. He'll probably be ok in, like, a decade or twenty, once he's finished coming to terms with the idea that he was genuinely miserable and terrified living under Bhaal's control and has formed his own life and a stable identity. In the meantime - abandonment issues, identity crises, issues about autonomy, paranoia about retaliation and religious guilt!

If he had failed in his duel against Orin and been condemned to lose his autonomy (and seen his friends immediately give up on him), or had he not been given death as a choice, he probably would've forsaken the party and fulfilled his original purpose in the end game. But he would've quickly killed them in their sleep first as a mercy! He's not totally heartless! He's an absolute mess.

He doesn't have much in the way of connections to the original games.

I go back and forth on how old I want him to be and haven't settled yet. I don't think he's young. Originally I had him be born in the temples before the Time of Troubles, along with the other Bhaalspawn but then it turned out that Durge's backstory is weird.

Going off of what we're told about being carved from Bhaal's dead flesh, having no birthday and being conceived beyond mortality, I'm assuming he was created from a part of Bhaal's corpse on the Astral Plane, where there was no time. Probably shortly after the end of Throne of Bhaal, in 1369 DR - maybe Bhaal was paranoid about Amelyssan and Bhaal's failure to be resurrected triggered the failsafe and initiated plan B: the Dark Urge.

Or Vel was born after 1372 DR, when Bane was reborn and Bhaal maybe felt a little insecure.

I have contemplated having my Charname meddle with his "birth" to piss Bhaal off, adding part of her own essence into the mixture. Technically it's not incest, because it's purely by magic, but it's still enough to make her sort of his mother and make it weird. Just to make the family tree even more complicated. Also technically makes him a half-human, half-hin, sun elf, quasi-deity. Nothing in this guy's life makes sense.

He's a ranger, because hey, he's a hunter - he just hunts people. He's comfortable hunting and surviving in urban or natural environments; he learned to live off the streets while being homeless after his foster family's death (and the subsequent massacre at the Ilmatari shrine that sheltered him) and learned to live off the land after fleeing into the wilds to lie low. It's also how he's familiar with poisons and venoms. He has an interest in death as part of the natural cycle, so the nature class suits him. Also likes animals, who are significantly less judgemental and more pragmatic about killing. Scavengers tend to follow him around for the corpses he leaves, and he ended up with a few rat and corvid animal companions (though Bhaal often forced him to kill them if he got too attached). It also lets me play a divine spellcaster, although I assume in his case the power is coming from his own soul rather than a patron god.

He's a divine being and an excellent killer, he knows this and it gives him self-confidence in his actions that some have described as "insufferably arrogant" or "suicidal". His go-to tactics for dealing with a problem are: Step 1) Promise death if subject does not submit Step 2) If subject does not submit; kill them Skipping to step two is also always on the table. All problems can be solved with murder.

His dump stat is intelligence, because the poor kid who ended up alone and homeless didn't have much time or resources for education. In another life he would've been a bard, he has a knack for carrying a tune and writing prose. I like to think Orin would've enjoyed art and maybe the theatre in her own alternate Bhaal-free universe, so it's an interesting parallel for them.

He takes an approximation of elven form because Bhaal decided to reverse engineer the Blessing of Corellon, using the soul of one of his elven kids as a reference, to give Vel a physical fluidity/flexibility that would be useful to his plan to breed an army of Bhaalspawn using Durge. Also works as a threat; obey, or there are other uses I have for you, and some of them will see you locked up for nine months. (Vel goes by male pronouns and presents as a cis man, but is somewhat flexible and accepts they/them pronouns. Not she/her though.)

Vel also has a million and one hang-ups about sex because of stuff like this; namely that he won't have any kind of sex that might cause pregnancy, and he used to kill the partners he begrudgingly took so that they wouldn't be able to perceive him during the act or remember him sexually. He makes a special exception for people who he's assigned an "equal" or "higher rank" over himself - they can do what they like with him and it's their right. Those exceptions would be Bhaal (Vel's body is Bhaal's body, as far as he's concerned), sort-of Gortash (except Vel didn't fully trust him and their relationship makes Bhaal irritated, so every time they had sex Vel had to leave and have a panic attack afterwards) and Astarion (who has his own hang-ups). There might have been something kind of going on with Orin, partly due to pressure for them to have "sacrificial lambs" together, but neither want to talk about it. He considered Ketheric, but Ketheric can't die and that would ruin it because Vel would be too busy trying to kill him to actually have sex.

Originally he was going to be the son of a member of the Eldreth Veluuthra, who turned to Bhaal for divine aid because the Seldarine still won't aid the terrorist organisation in committing genocide against the human race, for some strange reason. She would've raised her little abomination into be a weapon to set on them, and enjoyed the irony of humans being slain by an abomination spawned by of one of their own gods.

Since "the Dark Urge" gets you some funny looks when you use it in public, mine concedes to being called "Vel" - a name that only gets you funny looks from the minority that speak elven, because you've just introduced yourself as "dagger/knife." It's a description of him as a tool, not a person. His foster family did give him a name, but he refuses to acknowledge it because it was intended for a person who only existed in their imagination and he'll stab you if you call him by that name. He technically got the name from Gortash, who once "jokingly" referred to him as his favourite weapon one evening, enjoying the success after one of their joint plots to exploit some noble or other and advance both their goals via assassination/politicking. Vel has identity issues and complicated relationship with real Tel'Quessir, so he chose the elven word for the irony (no real elf would accept association with a Bhaalspawn, least of all this one).

Mostly he goes by no name at all. He might pick a new one, in a few decades when he's grown, healed a bit and feels secure in having his own identity.

Vel is Lawful, and alternates between Evil and Neutral depending on his mood and situation. He will fall to pieces without a purpose to structure his life around. He doesn't care if people around him are more Chaotic though, it's purely a personal code. If he takes a mercenary or assassination contract or something, he will fulfil it to the letter and make no attempts to backstab his employer or get any more than the agreed upon payment. He makes zero promises about the actions of anyone working with him, they can do what they want and it's not his problem.

He has a hierarchy in his head: Bhaal > Himself, Gortash, Astarion > Orin, the party > everyone else

His moral compass is a twisted thing that he's cobbled together out of scraps over the course of under two months, it's not very complete or useful. On the good-evil axis, he doesn't usually have second thoughts about taking actions that are evil, and he's not keen on the concept of morality as a whole; there was never any point in developing a sense for it. He never had any real say in his actions and he kind of resents people who judge him for them.

He kind of misses Sceleritas, his "great purpose" and all the power he used to wield, and he would make a fantastic Sharran.

#Forewarning of dark possibly dead dove content #I can't not write essays #I put way too much thought into my characters but it's fun #OCs #Vel #long post #edgelord hours

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rottendollface · 7 months

Text

The Horror of Our Love. Chapter 3.

Co-author: @bigtimesalt8196

Character: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Image: Picsart AI.

Warnings: NSFW; Ajax is older than in canon; broken time line and age line for the sake of plot; female virgin reader, incestuous relationship, family abuse, self-harm, misogyny, mentions of rape, unprotected sex, black magic, blood and flesh magic, body horror, sacrilegious, Foul Legacy Childe, breeding kink, miscarriage, marriage, grooming, pregnancy, erotic lactation, murdering, abyssal soulmates, serfdom system in Snezhnaya; all the characters are adults; 18+.

On an unusually sunny morning you were cleaning the stove. You made sure the stove had cooled down before you started. It was the third day of living with your grandmother. Previous days were full of new emotions and impressions, but today was calm and didn't promise anything extraordinary, so you decided to clean the house. You wondered who was doing it before you and who was looking after grandmother as well. Maybe it was someone from the villagers, but no one came to your yard to say hello and inquire about her, so you didn't have a chance to know.

You tried to get rid of all the cinder but the one in the deepest part of the stove didn't come out no matter how hard you tried to clean it. You had to climb inside until your shoulders to reach it. It was dark, hot and narrow in there, and smelled of smoke. You could swear the stove became hotter and hotter with every second so you hurried to get out, but your shoulders got stuck. You stretched out your arms to make it easier, pressed your palms on the heated bricks and pushed off, but still couldn't fit in. You were sweating heavily, the heat became unbearable. You made a couple of pushes and got out, covered in cinder and sweat. You swallowed nervously, your breath was rapid and short. The stove was cool and didn't have any sign of working.

The day was short and got you tired. The strange accident with the stove still worried you, but you buried the anxiety deep inside. Grandmother was sick and didn't want to talk, even refused lunch and dinner. She was sleeping for the whole day, so you couldn't ask her why the ikons, windows, and mirrors were covered with rags. You were getting ready for bed when you decided to light an oil lamp on the shelf in the corner of the room. You used to fall asleep with an oil lamp illuminating the room – it made you feel safe and reminded you that Tsaritsa would save you from every danger.

At your grandmother's house you were sleeping in a living room. It was furnished poorly and smelled damp as every other part of the house. In the living room there was a bed, an old wardrobe with the creaking doors, and a table with just one chair.

You had seen a bottle with the oil while cleaning, so you found it quickly and refreshed the lamp. You put a chair under the shelf and stood on it. You removed the dusty rag from an ikon and threw it on the floor, then took a match and lit the lamp. Suddenly, the chair was roughly kicked from under your feet – you fell on the floor with a shriek, and the shelf broke with a loud sound. The oil from the lamp spilled on your hand and on the floor, and the wick, that was burning, inflamed it. Everything happened in a second, you screamed in fright and rushed to the barrel of water that was staying in the kitchen. The oil moistened the sleeve of your clothes and flame that covered your forearm, was creeping higher and threatening to inflame your hair. Without thinking, you put your whole hand into the water, then rushed back and took the blanket off the bed, and threw it on fire. You fell on your knees to press it to the floor and cut off the oxygen. Your chest was aching from the heavy beatings of your heart, but the pain from a burn didn't strike your senses when you calmed down a little. You looked at your hand, searching for a burn, but it was clean. Bewildered, you stood up and went to the nearest window to open it to get rid of the smoke and stench of burning that filled the room. The rag that was covering the window fell off, but you didn't care – you still were looking at your hand, wondering why there was no damage to your skin.

Your grandmother seemed to be in a deep sleep, as she kept silent. It was dark outside, even the moonlight couldn't be seen through the black heavy clouds. The temperature became lower and you started shaking from the cold. You almost jumped when you heard a dog barking somewhere in the distance: it was hysterical and a loud cry; the sound of a rusty metal chain dragging on the earth could be heard as well, as a dog was running around the yard.

Anxiety was building up slowly. You went to the main door and checked on the locks. You came to the grandmother's room on your tiptoes and heeded: not a sound could be heard.

You got back to your room, took the blanket from the floor and left it in the basket with dirty laundry. The stove was still working, yet a cold breeze was filling the room through the opened window so you closed it and took a new blanket from the wardrobe, leaving the mess for tomorrow. You laid on your side and hugged the second pillow to get warm. Anxiety was denying you sleep: if a dog got alarmed, it meant someone had scared it. It could be a hilichurl or a robber: in both cases they could come to your house instead – the only thought of upcoming danger made you hug the pillow harder. You spent some time with your eyes open, observing the room: the table without the chair (that was lying near the broken shelf), the closed wardrobe and the curtained mirror.

Soon all the stress you had felt today's evening took over you, and you fell asleep but your sleep was light, and you were hearing creak and footsteps, but couldn't understand if it was real or if it was just in your slumber.

It seemed for you that you were turning in your bed but when you opened your eyes you found yourself in the same position. Your eyes wandered through the room and when your vision accommodated to the darkness, you noticed that the chair was standing near the table and the wardrobe door was slightly opened. A black object was sitting on the chair, its figure resembled the shape of a strong man: you saw only broad shoulders and the big lower part of a blurred body. You stopped breathing for a moment, not knowing what to do. You were laying and staring at the person with your eyes wide open but not a sound could be heard from you. The person was just sitting at the table and didn't seem to care about you: they were drinking something, the bottle remained features of a one with fire-water.

Another shadow slipped out the wardrobe and crippled to the table, then jumped on it, taking a human-like form. It was ludicrous: short but gaunt, with muscled hands. They were talking to each other but you couldn't hear a word from their conversation: you heard only muffling sounds of rough speech. You strained your ears and defined something from their conversation.

'Work... we really need to work.'

'Soon we will have a new master.'

'I need to work out a little! I need a mess! We've been sitting in this fucking wardrobe for ages! Thanks to idiotic slut we can be free again! Where are our brothers?'

'They can't go in without invitation.'

'Then we will make her invite them! She will beg for them to come in!'

You woke up because of a noisy knocking sound on your window. You were laying silent and still: you didn't want them to notice you. Despite your heart beating loud and heavy, and tears streaming down your face, you remained in the position in which you fell asleep but suddenly it became uncomfortable.

Something knocked in your window again. Cold sweat broke out your body. The sound of knocking was clear and close: your bed was staying near the window. Someone knocked. This time was rougher, it was pushy and impatient.

Then it started knocking continuously, without pause. You were at your limit already: dread and panic made you open your eyes to see what was torturing you, and you had seen that the creature, that was knocking on your window, was staying right in front of your bed and banging on the window with the knuckles of its long fingers.

It was a tall humanoid with disproportionately long hands and narrow shoulders. The human-like head was bald, its deep-set eyes were big but black, and its skin was gray.

Your heart slowed its rhythm painfully. It was impossible to breathe and think. The creature smiled, and you had seen the maw full of rare sharp teeth.

'Help...'

You whispered with your lips only and someone started banging on the door of the house. You heard someone cursing, while others were screaming from excitement.

'Help! Anybody!'

Finally your body gave a reaction. You jumped on your bed and the creature attacked you: you tangled in a blanket, and it caught you by it, dragging you on the floor.

'Come in! I let you come in but save me! Please! Please!'

After your hysterical shriek the door opened and you were kicked out the house by a mysterious force. You didn't wait anymore and rushed to the woods, far away from the house and the village. Barefooted, dressed only in a nightgown, you were running away, further and further into the forest. You didn't care that you would freeze to death or disturbed hilichurls would kill you. You would rather die than spend one more minute in the damned house.

'I see her! I see!'

Suddenly you heard whooping and excited exclamations. The devils were chasing you, they were running after you to drag you back to the house to continue your nightmare.

You turned left and hid away behind the old trees; a whirlwind of demons rushed further, without noticing you. You sat on the earth and let shock cover you. It all seemed to be a nightmare but it was real... or maybe it wasn't – you couldn't tell. You were trembling with the cold and your teeth were chattering, causing you to hug yourself to warm up. Your nightgown got damp and stuck to your body; the cold wind was scorching your tiny figure.

It was the end. No one would ever find you: no one had ever cared about you and no one would mourn. You tried so hard to be a good daughter and earn some love from your parents but it was worthless. Even Ajax, who promised to be with you no matter what, abandoned you.

'It will be better for everyone...' Suddenly all your senses disappeared. You knew it was a sign of dying: Ajax had told you many stories about hunters who froze to death, so you closed your eyes, waiting for oblivion obediently.

But the birth mark on your back struck you with acute pain so hard you almost fell on your side. It felt like someone was cutting it out of your skin with a blunt knife. You opened your eyes and saw the interior of the living room at grandmother's house.

You were laying in the bed; the bed sheets were wet and cold from your sweat.

Unbearable stench hit your nostrils but you didn't hurry to find where it came from – you knew the answer instinctively. You walked around the house and noticed that all the windows and mirrors were uncovered but Tsaritsa's ikons disappeared.

Clocks had stopped in the morning, the time they were showing didn't match the reality. The draught made the door open and you rushed to close it but it was so heavy you couldn't move it. You looked at the yard and saw something approaching your house from the forest. Human-like but ugly, wrong shaped and scary in its abnormality. It was moving while you weren't looking at it – every time you were, you had seen the figure standing motionless.

You made an effort but the door didn't shift. It reached the closest house to the village – enough for you to start panicking again.

You put all the strength you had in your arms but nothing happened. It was almost near the broken fence of your house.

You tugged the door a couple of times so it shifted a little. It stopped in your yard.

One more try – and you closed the door, then nervously locked it. The nightmare was never ending, it made you forget how to pray.

You couldn't even imagine what was happening around you. Demons were talking about the new master but who was the previous one? You gasped, when the right answer suddenly appeared in your head. Everything seemed like this: your grandmother was a witch and she had to pass her power to someone else from her family, or she would never find her peace.

You heard a laugh from her room, then it changed into mourning. You had nothing else to do but to go to her room.

The floor was cracking under your steps and one of the floorboards broke. You jumped back but noticed a space under it. There was a book in a leather cover that turned out to be a private diary of your grandmother. You looked through it: the biggest part of it was filled up with notes, also there were drawings. You opened it on a random page and started reading, hoping that you could find something useful in your situation.

"My son could live a happy life of a free person but he chose to run away and obey a noble, as he was afraid that locals would despise him for who I was. My sins followed after him and he had to pay: this is the burden of children whose parents sold their souls to the devil. I had nothing else to do, as his alcoholic father left me with nothing but debts for food and wood, and scars from his abuse. Once a respectful miner he died a filthy death. I sent him to feed our pigs but didn't give him any food and closed the door to the piggery."

Your hands started shaking. The best you could do to save your sanity was to stop reading but you continued.

"Tsaritsa didn't hear my prayers so I started to pray to the darkness, and it answered me. With it's help I became a witch but I kept my business clean: I was helping people only, using my power for good purposes. But they don't make a difference between good and bad. They are happy to use me and then curse me, so I cursed them back."

"I will have to make one of my grandchildren suffer after I die. I caused trouble for my own family. But I don't regret it."

"The mine had exploded two years ago, but everyone is still here. They aren't real. They are shadows. As far as I know they are able to communicate with outlanders. They will suffer here with me, until I find an heir. This torture… I beg Death to take me, but it doesn't come. I just want to die, I want to find peace in mother earth. I want to stop existing."

You heard your grandmother's voice calling your name and dropped her diary. Already exhausted mentally, you were ready to take the power from her only to make this nightmare end. You weren't a fighter, and you couldn't resist anymore.

You came to the grandmother's room and found her decaying corpse with flies and worms on it.

'Give me your hand,' it sounded like an order, and you obeyed. Emotionless and indifferent to everything, you gave your hand, and felt her crooked fingers on your skin. She squeezed it hard enough to make you squeak but suddenly she dropped it. Something sharp cut you, and droplets of your blood fell on the floor, absorbing immediately.

'She's not your breed!' A strange voice rumbled. It was low and sinister, and extremely irritated. You couldn't believe its words but your inner senses told you to run away, and you didn't stay in the room any longer.

You had already forgotten about the monster that was waiting for you outside the house, and unlocked the door, but a hand that appeared on the doorstep caught your leg. You tried to break free but fell on the ground and was dragged back to the house.

Ajax was still under the impression of everything he had learned in the Abyss. The sense of evil in the world was unusual for him, and distracted Ajax from his thoughts. There were a few abyssal anomalies around him, which Skirk told him to clear to make the evil surrender to his will. Ajax still remembered her smile: after she heard his name, she grinned and her eyes gleamed scornfully.

'So she found the replacement…' Skirk whispered to herself but Ajax didn't attach much importance to her words – he understood soon enough that half of Skirk's words was just a gibberish of a twisted mentality. She spent enough time alone to get out of her mind, and Ajax was the first alive person she had talked to in years. Impulsive, quarrelsome and cruel she was dictating Ajax her own philosophy of life, and it took a lot of psychological strength from him not to break under her pressure.

Ajax didn't forget about you even for a second. He would take you back right after completing his task with anomalies. He was worrying about you badly: you were too young to stay alone in another village for so long without his care and protection.

When Ajax reached first place, he felt uneasy in his chest. It seemed just like the village you were sent in, and the house was looking like the one his father had told him about long ago.

This village as a whole was an anomaly – all the villagers had disappeared but to outsiders it seemed alive because of phantom reminiscences of people and sounds of working elevators and pickaxes. For those rare guests that stayed in the village, everything seemed just a little strange – locals weren't friendly and the village seemed to be very poor with crumbling houses. No one could live here more than a day and no one wanted to do it anyway. The great force kicked strangers out of the village, Skirk told Ajax.

Ajax broke into the house and started searching for you, praying for it to be a mistake of his. He found you laying on the floor, unconscious. He sat on his knees in front of you, checking your pulse and exhaled heavily, when he felt a weak pulsation under his fingers. In your arms you were squeezing the dairy. Ajax didn't notice how the whole space around him came into darkness.

A tramp of fast steps made Ajax shudder. He cut his palm and quickly drew with his blood a magic circle that made everyone inside invisible to demonic creatures. The steps ran around the circle, and he had seen small twisted bodies rushing and searching for you and him. From the darkest corners the faces had appeared: long, white, with prominent noses and sharp teeth, on scrawny bodies they were ransacking the room. Ajax's blood froze in his veins — he went here just in time.

From what he had known from Skirk, his grandmother was a witch and now someone from her children needed to inherit the curse. Ajax left you on the floor and stepped out of the circle without fear. He went to the grandmother's room: all the demons ran after him. In the nasty atmosphere of despair and death, he found only a corpse with a stretched hand. Ajax touched it and felt how unholy power had struck his body, but a part of it was missing — just a little part, that went to someone else, and Ajax was afraid that you got it by chance.

'Master…' A tall demon with a human face and in human clothes appeared before Ajax. The only detail in his face that showed clearly his connection to the darkness was a flattened pig's nose. 'We need to work.'

But Skirk didn't explain to Ajax a thing about his grandmother's curse. That was how the whole nightmare of his and yours life had started.

Ajax managed to fight the anomaly and take you home. It turned out that roots of evil had sprouted through grandmother's body and affected the whole village. Roots were feeding themselves with the grandmother's memories and recreating the reality she lived in to lure in a future heir of the curse. The village also was a prison for her soul: it was tortured with never-ending shame, disdain and abuse that grandmother had felt for her whole life as a witch. When Ajax came to destroy her soul, he gave it to the abyssal pigs, and they tore it apart. He heard not only her scream, but a scream of his long dead grandfather as well. Grandmother got what she deserved – it was the price for black magic.

You were unconscious for the whole way home and didn't wake up for four days after Ajax got you back. It was the first time Ajax saw his mother caring after you: the poor woman was so nervous she couldn't sleep. Ajax hid the diary in your room, never checking it – he wasn't interested in what was written in it, but he decided that it had a lot of meaning for you.

Voices and shapes of ugly demons were annoying him constantly. Ajax had to find them something to work on every day, or they started tormenting him with their reminders of it. Ajax didn't know rest and calmness: he could see all the evil spirits that were staying near his brothers and sisters as dark shadows. You were haunted by them mostly. Ajax saw how shadows were following you, surrounding you and playing tricks on you. He tried to help: only swearing and cursing had power over demons, and Ajax had to let the disgusting words out of his mouth to chase demons away. Grumpy, sleep deprived and corrupted, he was scaring everyone in the family house and there was no way to handle him.

Ajax became aggressive and he was venting his anger on other people in the village: sometimes he was fighting men, on other days he was creating a conflict between mature women. Your father found the solution very fast: he signed Ajax up for Fatui, believing that the army could make Ajax learn his lesson. But it didn't work. Instead, Ajax was promised a brilliant future in the capital, and was preparing for the departure.

The most loathsome thoughts and fantasies were haunting Ajax at night. You pleaded him with tears in your eyes to spend the night hours with you. He couldn't blame you: after everything you got through, you almost lost your mind. You didn't talk much since you got back and could remain silent for days. You did nothing but sat somewhere in the house, looking at one spot and just existing between the housework that father was picking for you. Everyone tried to find out what had happened to you, but you brushed it off and walked away, as you were seeing demons bringing their crooked fingers to their lips in a sign of keeping silence.

Ajax came to your room after everyone fell asleep and stayed until parents woke up. He just stared at your sleeping form, jealous of this peace of tranquility you found with him by your side. All Ajax could see were demons imitating sexual acts, all he could hear was libidinous whispers of how mature and beautiful you became. They told him to lay his hand on you – a brother and a sister, the delicious forbidden fruit. Nothing could be sweeter, than stealing his own sister's virginity and placing his seed in your warm tight cunt. Nothing could be sweeter than a royal sin of inbreeding – and Ajax cried silently, as he was nothing against this abetting.

Ajax felt his lips trembling, as he remembered how you two were playing weddings, when you were little: like every girl you were dreaming of marrying a good man and creating a family. You read so many books with happy endings, so you thought of marriage as a logical and promised end for every woman. You were dreaming of growing up and dancing your first dance with your husband – so you, a naive little girl, asked Ajax to teach you how to dance. You weren't able to leave the house and see how the actual wedding was going, so Ajax was your only guide to the life of your dreams as he had visited a couple of ceremonies with his parents already. Your small and warm palm in his, your clumsy and hasty steps against his confident and strong moves: he was much taller and larger than you, but you kept dancing with him, scrunching up your face in a childish stubbornness.

Ajax wanted to haul at all this pain and mind breaking debauchery, but he couldn't lie to himself how much he desired you as a man. His lower member reacted to everything the demons were whispering to him, and with every night it was harder and harder to keep himself restrained from violating you. Ajax was praying, he was crying and he was punishing himself by cutting his forearms as he believed that physical pain would distract him from mental anguish. He needed someone to talk to, to tell everything that was tormenting him in a prison of his mind. The time in Abyss made him deprived of attention and caress. Ajax was broken but he showed a nasty and plucky bravado. All he could do was to hug your sleeping body and hide his face in your hair, always soft and sweetly scented, then leave with the first rays of sun.

Again Ajax was in your room the next night. He was sitting on a chair and mulling.

'You are an adult now,' Ajax brought it out of blue when you were preparing your bed. You gave him a confused look, and he continued. 'You will marry soon.'

It was true: parents were searching for someone who would want to marry you. They didn't plan to notify you and hear your opinion on it – they just wanted to get rid of you. Pavel Korneevich was the first to request his candidacy to your heart. Pavel Korneevich was sure it would be better for you to marry someone whom you had already known, and mother had the same opinion. He seemed to be very gentle while talking about you, so mother was happy and didn't want to wait for other volunteers.

'Do you remember how I taught you to dance?' Ajax continued, watching you with a heavy meaning gaze. 'Now I have to teach you something more.'

'What do you mean?' You asked with anxiety; his tone made your heart drop.

'You have to know how to be intimate with your husband. That's the most necessary knowledge a woman could have.' Ajax looked in your eyes and found fear.

'Is it really necessary?' Your cheeks flushed. 'I don't want it.'

'It doesn't matter. Family life consists of things you don't want. I have to pass this knowledge to you before my departure.' Ajax moved his eyes away as well and started looking on the floor.

You swallowed bitter tears – you didn't like to hear about Ajax leaving his home. For you it was a disaster, an apocalypse of your small world of love and appreciation that you got from your older brother.

'I don't want you to go…' You craned your head so tears wouldn't stream down your face. 'What will I do without you?'

'I will be visiting you on holidays, and I will take you with me as soon as I can. I promise.'

'You must vow to me. Vow that you won't leave me behind.' Sudden toughness in your voice scared you and made Ajax raise his brows in surprise. He took a small paper knife from the table and pressed it to his palm, showing the determination to cut it.

'Then I'll do it in blood.' Ajax made a cut and passed the knife to you. Without hesitation you did the same and pressed your palm to his, mixing your blood and proving the vow.

You dropped his palm and looked around searching for something to clean the blood, but Ajax caught your hand and pressed his lips to your small wound. His hot and wet tongue touched it, licking the blood away: his flat tongue covered it fully, mixing a burning pain with tickling. You giggled and tried to break free, so he started just kissing it. Something primal made Ajax do this and he didn't regret his submission to the desire.

Finally Ajax let you go. You looked at him, confused about his next move. He couldn't wait anymore – so Ajax kissed you carefully, his dry lips were caressing yours gently. He squeezed your lower lip between his, munched on it then ran on it with the tip of his tongue. You were staying still, not sure what you needed to do. Ajax moved away and looked into your eyes.

'It was the first lesson.' He said, cupping your cheeks.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin fic #genshin impact smut #childe x you #childe x fem!reader #childe x reader smut #childe smut #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

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hey remember that turo cuddling ask? yeah let’s call that the trauma au. and let’s say the reader manages to tame the aggressive miraidon somehow and gets it to apologize to turo for scaring and nearly killing him. idk i just feel like even tho he was kinda a shitty dad he deserves a good ending too <3 -galaxy (also hope ur doing well and eating n drinking properly! take care of urself k?) :]

"Groawl..."

"You're welcome." A light smile formed on your lips as you unclasped the iron muzzle around Miraidon's snout, letting it drop to the floor with a loud clank. "Now we're gonna try this again."

You kneeled down in front of it, slowly reaching your hand out to the side of its face.

Chuffing, the electric dragon averted its gaze, but allowed you to gently pet it anyways. It took every circuit in its body not to bite your hand off and sink its mechanical teeth into your flesh.

Even if it absolutely wanted to, your Iron Valiant bodyguard was present, and their pointed glare made it strongly reconsider.

Seeing that it finally learned some self-control, you couldn't hold back your grin as you fed it a sitrus berry. "Good job, M-2. I appreciate you not biting me this time."

So far, you've been making excellent progress with retraining this aggressive Miraidon. You called it "M-2" to distinguish it from the first Miraidon brought back through the time machine.

But honestly, you feared this wouldn't even be possible...as this exact same Miraidon nearly killed Turo after he intervened in a territorial dispute between the two paradox Pokémon.

Neither of you could've predicted just how hostile the second specimen was going to be...nor the catastrophic damage that a single Electro Drift could do to an entire research station. It ended up crumbling down, but by Arceus' blessing Turo managed to survive....albeit barely.

While his AI got him immediate medical treatment, you had your Iron Valiant knock out the aggressive Miraidon so you could put it in a containment cell. Then you dealt with the more docile Miraidon that was wounded in the ordeal. It tried fleeing Area Zero out of fear for its life, but you convinced it to stay.

You couldn't let the media find out about its existence, especially not after learning an Iron Treads somehow escaped to the surface, apparently lured out by herba mystica.

Keeping this project from spiraling out of control was getting more difficult by the day, and you feared that soon this "paradise" that your partner dreamed of would fall to pieces.

Yet..even mentioning putting a pause on the time machine had Turo freaking out and nearly tearing out his IVs. Despite remaining critically injured, he denied you any sort of special permission to shut it down.

Not even if, god forbid, he couldn't be around to do that.

Although his AI did see the logic in your reasoning and agreed that you should have access to it...his programming wouldn't allow it. Even if you managed to override the security locks, he'll be forced to attack you with a team of powerful future paradox Pokémon who could calculate your every move.

You know because you've tried it in the past after a heated argument.

Not even your strongest team could outsmart the AI...and you marveled at how your partner could make a replica of himself this advanced for the sake of preserving the project.

Just how much time did he have down here by himself after Sada left?

In the end, you gave up on any hopes of convincing him, instead focusing on other matters like his health and population control in Area Zero.

You'd report to him on the conditions of both Miraidons...although he remained very much afraid of M-2, refusing to see it for a long time.

He had a lot of sleepless nights and would wake up screaming at times if he accidentally fell asleep on his desk, all the nightmares involving the attack. Not to mention he became more clingy to you whenever M-1 was in the same room as you both.

He still got quite jumpy around it, even though the two are distinguishable by their personalities..and the fact that, until now, they remained in different battle modes.

But you made a promise to him that you'll try to tame M-2. Of course he didn't want you to be anywhere near it. He begged you to lock it away, claiming "we can always get another one".

Though you believed it deserved a chance to redeem itself. You understood that it was just angry and confused at this world it was brought back into unwillingly...and then seeing another Miraidon only made its temperament worse.

With those things under control, though, you figured it was time that Turo saw the progress you've made. It wasn't a "lost cause" like he feared.

The fact that M-2 obeyed your request to enter its pokeball showed that maybe....it did feel guilty over the incident, after all.

Maybe it would be too prideful to admit that, though.

Regardless, you notified Turo's AI that you'll be arriving with M-2, before you and Iron Valiant headed to the teleporter. It took you both down to the lowest-leveled lab where your partner was currently working.

You can only pray to Arceus above that nothing goes wrong this time.

.........

"N-No..please lock that thing back up! I told you not to bring it down here!!"

"Honey, it's okay-"

"It tried to kill me! How can that be okay with you?!"

"...I tamed it. It's not going to attack either of us ever again."

"..you..did..?" Turo was shaking all over. He could feel his heart hammering in your chest as his gaze remained fixated on the temperamental Miraidon at your side.

It just gave you a side-eyed glance, as though to say "I told you this was a bad idea". But you patted its head, smiling when it didn't hiss at you this time around. "See? It's okay."

Even your partner was astonished, yet he couldn't help but flinch as its digital blue eyes flickered back to him. He felt like a child who was scared of a Driftloon taking him away--it felt pathetic at best...yet he couldn't help it at all.

"I detect the Professor's heartrate increasing rapidly-"

"Thank you for the diagnosis, T." Waving off his AI's concerns, you looked at M-2, hands on your hips. "Now listen up, Miraidon. I think you owe him an apology for your actions. I know you were just acting on instinct back there, but...if we're ever gonna move forward from that and work together..I would like you to do this one thing for me."

"..agiasss..." It raised its haunches.

"...please?"

"......garowl.." Looking back to Turo, it closed its eyes and bowed its head, showing respect towards him...something he didn't think was possible until now.

The professor was utterly speechless. All he could do was swallow nervously, take a breath and shakily exhale, before he finally managed to speak to it.

"I-I....understand. It was my own fault, really. I..I should have known better than to get between you two, but--I was afraid you'd--"

When his eyes met M-2's bright blue digital ones, he clammed up again. But he felt your hand gently take his arm, and he glanced at you with tearful eyes. "..this is going to...take some time.." He shuddered. "But..thank you.."

"Of course." Smiling, you gave him a kiss on the lips, which helped him calm down as he realized you were still okay. "T? Would you mind escorting M-2 back to its quarters? You can reward it with some berries I left on the table."

The Miraidon in question huffed, rolling its eyes like a moody teenager. But it obeyed and allowed AI Turo to seal it back inside its pokeball, before he departed via the green teleporter.

Only when they vanished did Turo feel like he could breathe fully again. You thought he was going to start ranting about how you've been keeping this huge secret behind his back when he specifically told you not to engage with this Miraidon-

Instead, though, he just pulled you into a hug, still trembling. "How did you do it? Did you reprogram it to listen to you?"

"No, I just...did my best to understand its feelings, that's all." You wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back as you slowly helped him calm down again.

"...I-I see, and...you're certain it won't turn on us?"

"As long as we give that Miraidon the respect it deserves, then we should be good. The next step will be reintroducing it to the first one, but we can worry about that another day."

Turo didn't say anything to that, only nodding and holding you tighter, relieved that you were alright.

It's good to see him physically recovering. Emotionally was..going to take a long while, but you'll be here for him.

You'll be here for each other.

#i agree he deserves some comfort <3 #clanask #galaxy anon #pokemon x reader #pokemon violet x reader #professor turo x reader #turo x reader #hurt/comfort #trauma au

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caeli0306 · 1 day

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I've begun drafting chapter 4 but I'd be so shocked if I get it written and posted within the next 2-3 days. It definitely won't be a marathon writing session the way chapter 3 ended up being, esp since there are less absolutely-need-to-cover-this-point-in-this-chapter moments in this one so it'll take me a bit longer to flesh out the different scenes. I have very limited writing time this week lol

In other news I was so nervous about how people would respond to Sgaeyl as an AI but it seems like I didn't have anything to worry about! I felt like having her in this form was the best way to stay faithful to the FW source material while still writing in an alternate universe with no magic. Think of SGAEYL as JARVIS/KAREN/FRIDAY, but with a lot more personality and emotions. I try to keep my world building as realistic as possible for the world I'm writing in (see my attempts to integrate real-life cipher types even though I know nothing about cryptology lol), but the dragon AIs are incredibly unrealistic, since they'll have a lot more personality/emotions than real-life, or even near-future, AI would have. Normally that would really bother me, but to me it was way more important to find a way to incorporate Sgaeyl and eventually Tairn and the other dragons. I do have a couple ideas for how to integrate this disconnect into the plot, but I'm still fleshing it out.

On that note, if anyone who reads my stuff knows a lot about cryptology or old code breaking methods, please message me! I won't explain why on here b/c spoilers, but there are scenes that I'd like to include that I don't think can write unless I have a much better idea of what I'm talking about. I want to make this as realistic as possible, but also relatively easy to follow for a reader, and there is nothing I hate more than not being able to explain something in my writing.

I'm really interested to hear y'alls theories on what you think might happen as castles crumbling continues. The people I've discussed the plot with told me they didn't anticipate certain aspects of the story, but I've also had readers send me messages in the past straight up guessing plot twists that I could swear no one would see coming. I also want to hear which characters you're hoping to see more of! personally, I'm excited to write more scenes with ridoc and garrick, both on their own but (maybe, theoretically) also together later in the story. I feel like the two of them would actually be good friends once they're comfortable around each other. Idk. maybe that's my wishful thinking since the two of them live in my head rent free. I just want to gab abt my favorite characters with ppl lol its the only thing getting me through this brutal exam season.

#caeli's fics #castles crumbling tftab #tftab #tales from the airport bathroom

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ryuichirou · 8 days

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Replies

Also shorter ones today… mostly related to our previous replies and posts!

Anonymous asked:

After seeing Eel Floyd with Riddle

AND THOSE BITE MARKS 👀👀👀👀

I gotta know -

Did Floyd slip and slide in Riddle?

Also

Did Riddle magically goldfish form and the two had merman sex???

Honestly I wasn’t thinking about Riddle also becoming a merman, but they absolutely have to have merman sex at some point, otherwise it just isn’t fair (to me) lol

And to answer your first question, yes, there might have been some slipping and sliding in Riddle involved~

Anonymous asked:

re: the gaslighting Jade ask. I randomly stumbled on your blog from other ones, and I literally blocked you because shroudcest triggers me. Ultimately, we are responsible for our own safety. As long as it’s properly marked for (which yours clearly is since I blocked you the second I made a tumblr), really all we can do is filter the things that hurt us out.

(im agreeing with you btw. draw what you want i cant stop you. just feel like i in particular make a point worth mentioning from seeing that. you can answer this or not bc obviously i probably wont see it anyway)

Anon! Whether you see this reply or not, thank you very much for writing this despite having us blocked lol

You really are making a good point, and I am glad that you are taking care of yourself and avoiding uncomfortable stuff. I really encourage it. Thank you for understanding and for approaching this issue with respect.

Have a good day.

Anonymous asked:

Gaslighting IS Jade’s love language. Also mushrooms.

Facts, Anon <3 He doesn’t waste his gaslighting and mushrooms on those he doesn’t find entertaining love!

Anonymous asked:

Honestly I can totally see Cater as the kind of guy that now and then buys a random manga just because the cover looks aesthetically pleasing, although if they are BL they are probably more oriented towards shonen-ai than explicit content. But also he wouldn't really read them because he finds the stories and characters a bit ridiculous (is he a bitter anti-romantic? or maybe his sisters used to collect shojo manga and he associates the love story genre with them?). I bet when he had roommates he had fun leaving one of his manga lying around, just to see people's reaction and go "aw, shoot, you saw it? that's sooo embarassing..." or something like that

To be honest, I can see that too. Cater seems like someone who isn’t all that into anime and manga, but is aware of it enough to recognise that the cover is pretty and that there is something gay inside (he might figure out the latter thing later as he looks inside the book lol). His sisters really could be into it though, so I can see him having certain associations.

lol Cater’s roommates “finding” his manga though… Don’t act so coy, Cater 😭

Anonymous asked:

Goddammit! Idia, you cannot escape me for long, one way or another, your chest will be licked! *shakes fist at the sky*

I love how this is turning into a Looney Tunes cartoon…

Anonymous asked:

Idia doesn’t have nipples. He accidentally shaved them off. Tragic 😔 L in the chat for his nipples.

Damn. I’m afraid I have bad news for the previous Anon.

Anonymous asked:

Do you have any HCs for Neige and/or Chenya?

We do have HCs about Neige/Vil and Chenya/Riddle (1,2)!

Anonymous asked:

It is I, 🐩 anon,

So I got a friend into twst and tell me why her favorite character is goddamn Crowley? I'm currently trying to convert her to Divus supremacy. Enough about this. Let me ask my silly little question.

Is there anything about TWST's story plot that you dislike or wished it was worked on more? Or character you wish were more fleshed out?

Your friend has quite the taste… She is probably a genius of sorts 😔🙏

I feel like I was pretty vocal about it, so I am sorry for talking about it again, but I really didn’t enjoy how Ch2 was handled and Leona in general, to be honest. I wrote a post about my grievances a whole year ago, but my stance didn’t really change. We’ve rewatched the majority of the main story since then, and I thought that maybe with fresh minds and fresh eyes we would enjoy Leona at least to some degree, but unfortunately it didn’t really help. The events don’t really help either…

There might be some other things, but this is the one I think about every time when we talk about the flaws of TWST writing.

Anonymous asked:

what is your notp?

A bunch of Leona ships come to mind, i.e. Leona/Malleus, Leona/Vil, Leona/Idia 🤔 But also a bunch of Trey ships, like Trey/Jade or Rook/Trey…

Anonymous asked:

if you had to go on a date with one of the twst boys who are you picking? i'm picking idia

Idia is a great option, Anon; he would be so uncomfortable and awkward, getting nervous about the smallest inconveniences and whispering “thank god” every time you don’t force him to do something… I would pick him to, but my second option would be Jamil. I think he’s pretty chill.

Katsu would've picked Jade because of course, this is the best pick.

Anonymous asked:

any old fandoms that you feel out of love with?

Can’t think of any, Anon… I feel like we never fall completely out of love with anything, just move on, but there is always an opportunity that we’ll come back at some point. Things like Homestuck are still on our minds constantly lol

There are some titles that we kind of started watching, but then stopped because it wasn’t fully out yet, and since then we kind of lost interest for this thing. And with some of these titles it’s very unlikely that we’ll ever go back, but it’s never 1000% impossible. But then again, it’s not like we loved these titles…

Anonymous asked:

Funfact: The crowley that crowley is named after used to perform sex based magic with men

Damn I hope this is what our Crowley also does. This is his dark secret that is very poorly hidden

Anonymous asked:

I think Riddle would be a really good teacher's pet

Oh he would <3 He is a teacher’s pet.

Ironically, I feel like this makes him a bit boring for Crewel…although it depends…🤔

Anonymous asked:

What is a ship you rarely draw but you love

I don’t draw any of them enough, I love them all! Waaaaah :(

I feel like I don’t draw Sebek/Silver nearly enough for how much we love them, Rook/Epel is also a rare one but we love it, Sebek/Idia could use more love, anything with Jamil too…

Anonymous asked:

Please share with us a full list of the preference of the TWST boys? Top or bottom? I typed up a list for you to use!

Anon, we have a list in our pinned post! But since you’ve typed up a list, I’ll go through the list again :) We also have a post in which we explain our reasoning for each choice, so you can read it too if you’re interested.

Oh! And if you meant some other types of preferences, please let me know. In that case though, we have a list of the boys’ kinks, which isn’t the same thing, but pretty close; so you can read this one too if you want <3

Riddle – bottom

Ace – top

Deuce – bottom

Trey – top

Cater – top

Leona – bottom

Ruggie – top

Jack - top

Azul – top

Floyd – top

Jade – top

Kalim – top

Jamil – bottom

Vil – bottom

Rook – top

Epel – bottom

Idia – bottom

Ortho – top

Malleus– bottom

Sebek – top

Lilia – top

Silver– bottom

#replies

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