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my313 · 2 months

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in beomgyu's room 🧸

now playing 𝄞₊⊹ bad - wave to earth & best friend - laufey

⋆ pairing: bestfriend!beomgyu x f!reader

⋆ summary: a reel of your most precious memories in beomgyu’s room(s), and the one time it’s also yours.

⋆ genre/themes/warnings: fluff, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, non-idol au, mention of mommy kink (sorry they have weird inside jokes)

⋆ word count: 3.6k

a/n: this isnt proofread n i dont think its my best writing, i wanted to focus on dialogue a lot more :0 but i just wanted to put out a lil something for gyu's bday <3 our talented pretty boy 🥹 anyways, i hope u enjoy reading this!

2009

beomgyu’s room at eight years old is directly opposite from your window. you recently watched taylor swift’s you belong with me music video, and your unassuming neighbor who just recently moved in has become the center of the romantic production running in your little mind.

when his family invites you over for dinner, you’re giddy to put a name to the pretty boy that’s been in your sights; only ever seeing him with a guitar strapped to his back when he walks by your house as you sit on the porch with a book.

“hi,” he’s the one opening the door, greeting you enthusiastically. you assumed he would have been a shy boy, especially with the way he walked with his head down and never without an mp3 player and wired earphones. that was just one of the many surprises beomgyu had in store for you and your serendipitous friendship.

beomgyu smiles politely at your parents before pulling the door back and letting you all inside. your mother’s ushering you to the boy, hurriedly greeting his parents and leaving you in beomgyu’s care.

you turn to him, shy and unsure of what to do, but beomgyu’s there to pull you out of your daydreams. he slightly tugs the sleeve of your shirt, chin tilted to the direction of the stairs. “wanna play mario kart in my room?”

you’re scanning the room to look for your parents, silently asking permission with your eyes when you catch your dad looking back at you. when he nods, you’re quick to relay it to beomgyu, who returns the biggest smile you’ve seen. boys are usually rough around the edges, either boisterous or freakishly hyper-aware of cooties, but beomgyu is different. he’s just loud enough to have you laughing until your tummy hurts, but he’s also a good listener.

your feet dangle from the height of his bed while he sets up his wii. it only takes a few minutes of tinkering and confused grumbles before beomgyu joins you, sitting close and handing over the controller.

“i’ve never played this game before!” your voice chimes with the game’s background music, fiddling with the buttons on your controller and accidentally pressing something that makes beomgyu laugh.

“that’s okay,” he navigates through the buttons on the screen to take you back to the starting screen. “i’ll go easy on you.”

you may have gotten beomgyu all wrong, because as you inch closer to stealing his first place spot on your eighth round of playing, he throws a green shell at you, putting you off-course.

“that’s so not fair, beomgyu!” you grumble frustratedly, shoulders slumped. beomgyu has a mischievous smile on his face; a different charm to the friendly one you encountered at his doorway, or the re-assuring one when he asked to play mario kart.

“i didn’t even know you could do that.” you whine, twisting your body left and right as if it would take away from your loss.

beomgyu’s mouth opens, but instead of hearing his squeaky voice, you both hear your mom’s.

“yn, time to go home!”

you both tear your eyes away from the doorframe to look at one another.

“teach me next time?” you plead, eyes shiny and hopeful that you’ve got a new friend to play with. someone who would always be next to you.

beomgyu feels similarly. he lets it show by nodding enthusiastically, his rectangular glasses pressed onto his rising cheeks, swelling from all the smiling he’s done tonight.

2017

“choi beomgyu!” you yell from the bottom of the staircase, leaning on the creaky railing despite beomgyu’s constant warnings of “you’re gonna fall off one day, y’know.”

you’re both sixteen years old, and tonight is prom. unlike the books you read, you were not serenaded by the most beautiful (subjective) boy in school; but like the disney movies, you’re at your best friend’s house and going as each other’s dates.

the idea was initially disgusting to both you and beomgyu, suggested by menacingly blunt choi soobin during one of your escapades to the internet cafe. when prom started to come closer and closer, you and beomgyu would briefly text about it in jokes. the final straw was probably the fact that soobin actually got a date before either of you. so, with only three days to prom and a whole lot of spite, you and beomgyu hunted down matching corsages and sealed the deal.

you glance at the clock on the wall, ticking seven. sick of waiting on your bare feet, you lift the trailing end of your dress and make your way up to beomgyu’s room.

you don’t bother to knock, having seen the worst of beomgyu and his room already. the sight that greets you is anything but what you expect.

you expected heaps of clothes on the floor from his panicked frenzy of not knowing what to put on under his blazer; maybe some mismatched socks, and shoes tossed to every corner out of indecision.

instead, you see beomgyu clad in a neat, black suit, with a navy blue dress shirt. his black hair, usually falling over his eyelashes, is tucked away to show off the face that many come to your classroom to see. just like how he was at eight, you know beomgyu is different; he’s delicate, never gruff, even when he picks you up from your doorstep with bedhead.

beomgyu has always been pretty, but tonight, he’s charming. he’s handsome. just thinking it makes you want to regurgitate your words and flush them down the toilet. it brings upon this weird pit in your stomach that was never there when you were wiping your cheeto-dust fingers on beomgyu’s shirt as some petty form of teasing. that weird feeling you only got when someone cute walked your way, or someone flustered you to the point of developing a crush. you hope it’s nothing too serious.

“woah!”

“what.” beomgyu deadpans, unamused by your exaggerated gasp. in reality, the pink on his cheeks already has you guessing that he’s shy. your beomgyu has always been one for compliments and sweet gestures, recalling how his eyes brightened every time your smaller hands patted his head when you were younger.

“no need to get sassy, jeez,” you roll your eyes playfully, the smile on your face never leaving. “you look good. handsome.”

“thanks,” he smiles sheepishly. it’s silent for a bit, until beomgyu says, “keep ‘em coming…”

“dipshit!” you smack his forearm. “you’ll hear more from everyone tonight, i bet.”

“i guess so,” he shrugs, looking at himself on the full-length mirror, trying to fold his necktie like the way his dad taught him. you move closer, your dress trailing behind you when you drop the sides in favor of helping beomgyu out with his tie. you’re so close; the kind of close you and beomgyu haven’t been ever before, except when you were ten and you fell off your bike, crashing onto him.

you’re in front of him now, looping the fabric and not really looking at him. you can’t tell that he’s staring down at your concentrated face, smiling softly at how your tongue peeks out of your mouth in concentration.

he hasn’t gotten the chance to compliment you back, but he’s noticed how beautiful you looked the minute you stepped into his room. his thoughts only get confirmed further now that you’re just a few breaths apart; your lip gloss has a sheen that’s tempting to swipe off with his own lips, and your eyelashes flutter in the way that beomgyu pictures in a few years time, where you’re waking up next to him every morning.

“not from anyone that matters though.”

your fingers stop working, peering up at your best friend. you don’t really know what to make of how his eyes glisten; how they look fondly at you, so you revert to the only thing you and beomgyu know will fix anything — fooling around, saying something stupid.

“are you saying if soobin complimented you, you wouldn’t give a fuck?”

“you make it sound like i’m in love with him.” you shrug, lips pursed as you continue the final touches of his tie. he bumps his forehead onto yours, making you curse. “what? bros can seek validation from one another!”

“so can i seek it from you, bro?”

you shake your head, amused by his unfamiliar use of the nickname. “whatever. are you done now?”

“no.” you groan. beomgyu pulls away from you first, going to his bedside drawer and fishing out a box.

he come back to your side, this time, with the corsage you both overpaid for. beomgyu wraps it around your wrist and prompts you to turn your hand over, tying it up for you. you watch him intently.

unconsciously, your hands extend to caress his head, gently patting his styled hair. the moment your fingers graze his scalp, he freezes up for a few seconds before resuming, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest.

“i forgot to say earlier,” beomgyu returns to his full height, but his hand is still holding yours. he squeezes three times with his dimples peeking out as he smiles, a semblance of a confession that you fail to pick up on. “you look beautiful tonight, too.”

2021

it’s nearly midnight when you and beomgyu decide that the best activity to do when both of you are jobless on a friday night (saturday morning now) is to dye each other’s hair.

you left an hour ago for a random supermarket run, and you return with a bottle of bleach, developer and a bunch of dyes that were on sale. possibly also a whole new stock of instant ramen. tonight was one of the nights you’re relieved your best friend has a car.

you’re both twenty now, in college and far away from home for a while. still, home doesn’t feel too far away when beomgyu’s still waiting for you outside the girls’ dorm building with disheveled hair. from your freshman year to now, beomgyu’s still been the same beomgyu that you love. you can admit that to yourself now, finally catching the culprit of that odd feeling in your stomach from prom night. though you’re unsure when you can gather the courage to tell him all that.

you’re pushing the door open to beomgyu’s dorm room, seeing his roommate taehyun slipping his shoes on with a backpack.

“are you running away?” you question, half-joking. “beomgyu can’t be that bad of a roommate. he’s like a pet goldfish sometimes.”

beomgyu’s shutting the door behind you when he walks into your odd conversation with taehyun. “that’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

“goldfish are so cute though!” you reason with him, your tone higher in pitch as your silly charade continues. taehyun’s joining along too, laughing at the banter between you and beomgyu. “did you know the guy who created goldfish crackers made them because his wife was a pisces?”

“i’m a pisces,” beomgyu proudly states, chest puffed out with the bags of your pointless mission weighing down his shoulders. “would you make me a fish-inspired snack, yn? answer carefully, our relationship depends on it.”

you try to ignore the fact that he says relationship, not friendship. details, details. but beomgyu’s all about details. he didn’t say anything for just no reason, so you can’t help but let the thought fester. for now, you keep up with the jokes.

“you don’t even like seafood, gyu.”

“okay kids,” taehyun interrupts, heading towards the door. “i’m going to the gym. don’t burn the place up, please…”

“i think i’m gonna burn something else.” you snark, looking up at beomgyu’s perfectly smooth hair. he catches your stare and consciously guards his head.

taehyun leaves in the next few minutes, and it’s just you and beomgyu again.

beomgyu’s eyebrows wiggle comically, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to the bathroom. “w-wait, wait!”

“what? backing out?” he challenges you, shaking you by the shoulders. “yn, you can’t!” his whining is convincing, but mostly because beomgyu has this pout that he doesn’t know you succumb to every single time he pulls it out — which is nearly everyday.

“n-no..! just..”

beomgyu’s face softens. he takes your face between his right hand, squishing your cheeks repeatedly. he huffs mockingly, “fine, you can do mine first.”

in the next hour, beomgyu’s desk chair is situated between the bathroom door and the carpeted floor of the bedroom, holding it open to let the stench of the bleach disperse. you’re sitting on said chair with a towel on your lap, while beomgyu sits on the bathroom floor, legs folded to his chest. his back is leaning against the middle of the chair, but he’s essentially sitting between your legs as you clumsily paint bleach over random sections of his hair.

“sorry if this turns to shit, beoms.” you snicker, layering more product on the strand between your fingers. you’re startled by beomgyu’s movements, his head tilting upwards slightly to look at you before looking back down. “you owe me free food for the rest of our lives if i end up looking like a dalmatian.”

“that’s fine,” you giggle, tapping his shoulder to motion for him to turn around and face you, trying to get the sections with his bangs. “at least i know we’ll be best friends forever.”

beomgyu fights the urge to say something stupid; something that might end the nights of you sleeping over and snuggling close to his chest — the things that pop up in his head range from “you’re so cute, i wanna kiss you.” to “i think i’ve been in love with you for years, so yeah, anyway.”

he still says something rather silly, but he thinks it’s just slightly less off-putting than telling your best friend who you grew up with that you’re in love with her.

“technically, you’d be my sugar mommy.”

you raise a brow, “outing your mommy kink?”

“yes, and?”

fits of laughter fill the air, you have to place the brush back on the sink in case you smack beomgyu’s face from how you throw your whole body around when you laugh. he’s just the same, nearly snorting when he sees how red your face has become.

at some point, you’re still trying to recover from giggling so hard, taking the brush back into your hands and picking out sections of beomgyu’s bangs. he chooses to perch his chin on one of your thighs with his head tilted up, as if admiring you deeply from the ground. beomgyu can ignore the prickly sensation settling on his scalp and the cold tiles of his bathroom floor freezing his butt off if he can see you from this view more often. it reminds him of when you used to let him rest his head on your lap that one time your families went on a road trip, and you both were stuck in the back. or the other times in his childhood bedroom where he’d fall asleep and wake up with your fingers tangled in his hair, head over a pillow on your lap.

beomgyu thinks he fell for you then, that he’d decided that he’d kneel on the ground forever if you asked him to. he thinks he’d probably do much worse if the requests were coming from your pretty lips.

you stop painting over his hair, signaling that beomgyu’s done. you think beomgyu’s going to get up from the floor, his legs crossed and obviously sleeping from how long you’ve had him sitting down there, but he’s still in-between your legs that it stops you from moving too. you’re about to joke around and tell him to get up, but you finally catch onto the fact that he’s looking up at you like he’s stargazing, or watching the prettiest sunset in the summer.

“gyu, what’s up?”

it takes a while for him to respond. beomgyu feels his mind drifting to places he doesn’t know he’s allowed to be in; thinking about how he’s thought of waking up next to you since he was sixteen, and it might have sounded like trying to snatch the sun from the sky back then, but he feels an inkling that it’s not too impossible right now, at twenty, in his room and at your disposal.

“do you remember when we went to prom together?”

you snort, reminded of your trembling hands when your parents asked you and beomgyu to take pictures and pose together, feeling his hand on your waist. “yeah, we looked pretty good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu draws circles and random patterns on your clothed thighs. “we did look pretty good together.”

“what?”

“what did you say, gyu?” your voice comes out in a whisper, even when you try to be firm and persistent.

“you heard me,” he mumbles, finally looking away from you with the pink dusting his cheeks.

“no, i think i have to hear it again.” you tease, flicking his forehead to turn his attention back on you. “come on, say it.”

beomgyu bounces back, eyes trained on you as his lips move faster than any other time you’ve listened to him babble. he’s never even spoken this fast when he’s raging on his matches with soobin.

“jeez, yn, you wanna hear me say i’m in love with my best friend who i have also imagined living together with for the rest of my life?”

he blinks, realizing what he just said. “well… i mean, you got it.”

you press your lips together, trying to hold in the laugh that was threatening to burst out on beomgyu’s deer-in-the-headlights face. you’d feel terrible if you ruined this moment for both of you, so you try and keep it to giggles and a pleased grin.

“you sure you wanna live with me for the rest of your life, beomie?” you tease, bending down and bringing your face close to his. you enjoy the feeling of making beomgyu shy, and you know his guilty pleasure is when you’re rendered flustered and defensive.

“that’s all you got from what i said?” he pouts.

“aw, baby,” cooing at him. if his hair wasn’t slicked with bleach, you would have fluffed it and patted it the way he always liked. “d’you wanna start apartment hunting and writing down our kids’ names?”

he blinks up at you, briefly taking his phone out of his pocket and turning it over to show his notes app. “yeah, go ahead.”

“beomgyu.” you stare at him, slightly bewildered and freaked out, but also endeared.

“i’m just joking!” he puts his hands up defensively.

he taps your thigh again once his arms let up. “...you still haven’t said anything.”

“if it wasn’t obvious enough, choi beomgyu,” you start, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “i’m also in love with you. and i would love to be by your side forever.”

2024

it’s almost been three years since the night beomgyu and you confessed to each other.

everything seems to come full-circle, because you’re twenty three and sitting on beomgyu’s lap while playing mario kart. you have vivid memories of being eight years old and telling beomgyu off for not going easy on a first-timer, but you’ve had years and years of payback for that moment by now.

beomgyu doesn’t need to go easy on you anymore, occasionally yelling in your ear when you sabotage him, only to trail kisses from your earlobe to your neck as an apology.

as you finish up your last game as promised, you turn your head and press a chaste kiss on beomgyu’s cheek. sometimes, you still can’t believe your best friend has graduated from being just that, to being your boyfriend. beomgyu chases after your face as soon as you detach from him, his lips quickly pecking yours.

it took a while until you and beomgyu could live together, only finding a place you could both attest to earlier this year. but since then, you’ve made plenty of memories in every nook and cranny.

you keep old habits like mario kart, and beomgyu purposely makes mistakes with his necktie just so you can tug on it, kiss him and fix it instead. but your life with beomgyu has new bits and pieces that flourished since sharing your love for one another. your shared baths that consist of gossip that beomgyu is overly enthusiastic of; taking selfies every night when you put on sheet masks for each other; and instead of picking you up with bedhead, you have the privilege of seeing beomgyu in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, picking you up from work and waiting for you to fill the passenger seat of his car.

it makes you think not only about all the lovely moments you’ve had with beomgyu, but the ugly parts that only you both know of each other.

“i really hope this is a forever thing, gyu.” you blurt out.

“playing mario kart with me?” beomgyu knows what you mean; he can tell you’re floating in your head when you ask him. still, he lightens the mood.

“yeah,” you chuckle. you suppose he isn’t wrong, you wouldn’t mind this at all.

“baby,” he tucks a hair behind your ear. “look at me, hm?”

“i love you today,” beomgyu kisses your lips, moves to either side of your cheeks. “i love you tomorrow,” now he’s pressing one on your nose. “the day after,” the last one on your forehead. “until we’re old and wrinkly, i love you.”

your smile in the midst of all his kisses is as wide as it was when you first met beomgyu. you cradle his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbones then bumping your noses together briefly. it makes beomgyu laugh, the sound still as pretty as when he stumbled over his words trying to confess to you. “there’s no one else i would have fallen in love with other than you, gyu,”

“my best friend in the world.”

#from.313 #313.softhours #txt beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu soft hours #beomgyu soft thoughts #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt x reader #313.beomgyu

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izvmimi · 2 years

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cw: smut. minors dni. fem!reader is a brat and izuku’s kind of a bully tbh. brat taming energy. there’s a fair bit of dialogue. horny then turns soft.

izuku won’t tell you this up-front, but he secretly loves it when you’re mad at him.

not if he’s truly done something to wrong you in some way - he would never dream of wanting to hurt your feelings after all - but when you’re throwing a sometimes silent, sometimes not-so-silent tantrum that falls just short of making any damn sense, it gives him a little bit of glee, hidden in the sparkle of his green eyes.

“say that again, sweetheart?”

you’d started all of a sudden, as usual, sighs that were a little too heavy as you sulked around the house, short responses, a furrow in your brow. he’s been tolerating your mood all evening, because as usual, he is far more patient than you are, and now you’ve run out of passive and are leaning heavily into aggressive.

your snippy reply comes without hesitation.

“i can’t stand you,” you hiss. your voice is sweet venom when you rack up a fuss over something silly, and your tantrums, especially when they’re thinly veiled bids for attention, are terribly amusing to him.

the scrunch and twist of your features to portray contempt right now as he watches you declare your discontent... they awaken something in him; there’s a fair bit of excitement at the prospect of mollifying you into appropriate behavior.

he’s going to enjoy breaking you down.

“oh, is that so?” he asks, his tone inquisitive and slightly condescending.

“yes.” you keep your voice even and clear.

you’re folding laundry now, refusing to let him help, but keeping your eyes focused on the television in front of you, and he’s given you a healthy amount of distance poring through a set of worn notebooks at the dinner table. he sits directly in your line of sight and he can feel the intensity of your pout.

he sighs but the sound is light. leaning back into his chair, he throws a look at you over his shoulder and his goading grin is wide and obnoxious.

“you know if you want me to fuck you, you can just ask. use your words, honey.”

a pillow goes sailing through the room in the direction of his face blazingly fast.

“fuck you.”

he’s caught it, eyes playful and predatory.

“i’d love to.”

your voice is warning as he moves quickly, just faster than you can perceive. one minute he is seated several feet away from you and he pisses you off more than anything you can imagine at the moment, and the next minute he’s knelt in front of you, eyes level with yours. your heart pounds.

“get away from me,” you warn, your face warming up as you draw your legs in.

“make me,” he says, sweetly.

you mean to push only semi-roughly against his chest, but your arm goes through the space between his chest and his arm and he clamps down with his bicep just enough to trap you, and when you gasp in surprise, he grips you by the chin with his other hand.

the action is too smooth and too earnest. dark eyelashes bat at you playfully and he pouts as though he is the most innocent lamb in existence. he really is too pretty and it only makes you angrier.

“you really don’t like me?” he says in a sad voice, a playful frown.

“i hate you.”

izuku smiles even wider, ready to play.

---

your whining is incessant now but at least this time the whining is of the more sexual kind, the high-pitched cries and wails of someone who is receiving just a bit more stimulation than she can handle, legs spread firmly apart as you sit in his lap and back pressed against his broad chest. his fingers pump quickly in and out of your center, and you melt against him with every pant as his fingers work you to unfair amounts of pleasure. it’s the exact reason why you hate him, the fact that he can so easily play you like putty, begging him for more - more love, more love, more love.

izuku bites your ear gently as your back arches against him, the hold he has you in with his arm around your midsection unbreakable. sucking, nipping at your neck and shoulders with soft, repetitive touches of your clit with the tips of his fingers unrelenting.

“you don’t sound like you hate me,” he teases.

you are breathless, working yourself into a frenzy onto his thick fingers.

“i-izuku! you-” you hiss his name, and he’s still unsatisfied with the defiance in your voice. his fingers curl and you see white, and he rubs your back as you cum with no reservation onto his digits, onto his calloused hand.

your head spins, but he’s not done breaking you down as you come down from your high. quickly he lays you onto your back, leaning just a little bit of his weight onto you as he rests above, chin propped up by his elbows on either side of your body.

you’re a curious sight. messy, your complexion deepened by lust, the smallest tears in the corner of your eyes. cute. his.

“are you still mad?” he asks tentatively.

“stop making me cum every time you annoy me!” you argue, then close your eyes shut in embarrassment as you see him stifle a laugh. you sound silly.

“stop being a brat and i won’t try to fuck it out of you,” he replies simply. you give him a fierce look and he smiles again and before you can realize your mistake, he’s poking at your center again with his thick cockhead.

he plays with your puffy pussy lips, the leak of pre and your wetness allowing him to glide playfully against the labia, teasing you. you shudder as you wait for entry; it doesn’t come.

in fact, he’s taking his time, humming a tune under his breath even. your blood boils.

“stop playing with me, ‘zuku!” you complain again.

“behave,” he whispers. his breath tickles your face as he draws in close, kissing your forehead.

you would open your mouth to say something sassy, but the craving is there to be filled already, his heat against your heat forming a knot in your stomach. he watches you contemplate, entertained.

his fingers trail the side of your face.

“don’t you have something to say, love?”

you begrudgingly shake your head.

“so am i going to fuck someone who’s mad at me or someone who loves her ‘zuzu very much?” he asks. he’s still playing with your hair and your head and shifts back, so that you no longer feel his cock against your entrance but rather laying hot and hard on your lower belly. you physically ache.

fidgeting under him, you wrap your arms around his neck.

“p-please.”

horny desperation looks adorable on you, he thinks, but a little more folding is necessary.

“p-please, what?”

“please...” you mull the nickname in your mouth again,” please, ‘zuzu”

he smiles.

“and what does my sweet baby girl who isn’t throwing tantrums want?”

you furrow your eyebrows.

“izuku!”

he frowns back. “that’s not very sweet,” he tsks. “bad girls don’t get cock, unfortunately.” he starts to pull back and your legs tighten around him in a panic.

“no! don’t.” you grit your teeth. “fine!” you force yourself to soften, then look up at him again with the sweetest, most pacifying look you can muster. “can you fuck me ‘zuzu? please? want your cock to fill me up, please?”

he’s obviously pleased that you’ve broken once again.

“of course, sweetheart.” there’s a soft caress of your cheek that comes with the realignment of his hip against yours, that press of his cock flush to your folds that makes your stomach flip.

you murmur his name again, softly, gently, and his heart softens too.

a precious little headache you are.

he slips inside you, groaning a little in time with your mewls as he nestles inside, making space for himself as he fills you up. even if you’re obnoxious at times, you still give way to him, even if he has to be a little forceful. you’re as soft as your insides around him, tender and gentle as your skin dampened by sweat and desire, and as sweet as the tastes of your juices on his tongue.

"do you love me?” he whispers into your skin as he cradles you in his arms. he’s no longer teasing but asking for real. and you always respond the same.

“more than anything. no matter what i say.”

he feels the same.

more than everything. no matter what.

#izuku x reader #izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #deku smut #izuku x reader smut #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes #mimi's izu <3

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vandal-flower · 2 months

Text

Chapter 6 - Emperor and Heir

Blue Roses with Gold Lining

With his majesty's goal in mind, you continue to work in the library. However Michael's meeting with her majesty and Aurora intoduces a requirement for both your plans to succeed.

W.C: 3.4 words. (I'm so proud.)

Warnings: Mentions of children, intimacy via touch, stories on infidelity, dialogue, implied kissing.

I.¹ - II.² - III.³- IV.⁴ - V.⁵

"I want you to remain loyal to me Michael."

You gently rub his hand with your own. Silently pleading with him to fulfill your request. Your desire. In exchange of his loyalty, you'll make him an emperor. The mightiest known to man.

Michael's eyes look at you, and he then chuckles to himself. "What ever ploy you are trying to play is good, but not good enough. Consider your script rejected."

For a moment, his words caught you off guard, but you quickly compose yourself to snap back at him.

"Oh, your majesty, this isn't some ploy I'm playing just to get a head start in the competition. I mean it. Honest.", you calmly say, "Also, I don't always follow by a script, I prefer to improvise occasionally."

He gives you a look of uncertainty, unsure if what you are saying is really true.

"Your majesty, if you truly do lack faith in me, then please, do name one time that I, (Name), daughter of one of the Ministers of House Ludwig, has ever deceived you."

"Fair enough.", he replies. You possess a trait that not even his mother's court cannot get their hands on. Convincing. One could say you're manipulative to a degree.

On your first day at the palace, you were able to form a pact with him, and own your own terms and conditions. He will- he must help you in times of need. It's only fair.

You gently take his hand off your face. Had anyone seen you with the prince like this, you'll never hear the end of such gossip. The people residing in this palace have the largest ears and the loudest mouths known to man.

That is not to say that you don't enjoy such gossip while drinking your tea.

You quickly pick up the papers on the floor and hold them tightly to your chest. "Anyways in short, in order for you to become an emperor, you must help me into gaining some power in this place. Fair enough?", You explain.

"Alright then.", he mutters as he rakes his hand through his hair. You smile at how quickly he accepts your proposal, not questioning you or having any suspicions.

"Since you decided to take the initiative to approach 'Little Miss Pinkie' for me, smooth-talk your way into her confessing about her new accessories. Talk to other women too, just in case.", you remind him.

"Just in case of what?"

"Just in case, I don't get into trouble for falsely accusing someone.", you reason.

"I'm the daughter of a minister, not a princess like the others. The chances of me getting punished for minor things is higher compared to anyone in the place."

'Valid points.', he thinks. "Well then, I guess I must get to work then. I ask for a goodluck kiss before I go." , he says, as he points to his lips with his index finger.

The smirk on his face.

"No. It's unnecessary."

"I'm not leaving until you give me what I want."

You sigh in defeat. 'He's awfully stubborn for his age. It's almost concerning.', you think bringing his face closer to yours and gently plant your lips onto his, a peck on the cheek.

"Can I have one more?", he asks with a cheeky smile on his face.

"I recall that you asked for a kiss, not kisses Michael."

"Are harsh words really necessary whenever we converse alone?"

"Yes, now go do smooth talk your wives-to-be."

Before you walk out, he calls out to you. "And where will our secret meetings take place, if you want that plan of yours to succeed?"

"Meet me in the library, before evening. If you're unable to do that, I come see you myself. I hope you don't have any duties to attend at that time."

You walk out of the room and come face-to-face with Alexis. He stares at you for a moment, before giving you a look of distaste, and walking off to enter the room.

"Good afternoon, royal advisor Ness. I believe it is good courtesy to greet, don't you think so?", you turn to face him, just to see him halt his movements.

"You don't need my greetings, you are but filth in my eyes.", he snarls at you. You take notice at how dull his eyes are. You shrug it off, "Very well then. Good to know that is how you view me, dear sir. Anyway, may you enjoy your day."

You continue your way down the halls as he stands there, still in his position. You wonder to yourself if he acts like this to anyone, or just you. Either way, you couldn't care less.

Ness scoffs to himself before entering the room. 'Who does that woman think she is?', he thought to himself. He quickly puts a smile on his face for his majesty. It is protocol for royal advisors to look their best when presenting themselves to their master.

For him, it was his smile.

As soon as he entered, he saw his majesty smiling to himself. Ness wondered why. Was because his great majesty played mind games with you, like the other women or, was it because his majesty merely thinks you are a joke to him?

Michael calms himself as he notices Ness and stops smiling. Ness takes notice of this, but doesn't question it. "Your majesty, the queen has requested your presence at her chambers. She says it is something concerning your interactions with the participants.", he says.

"My interactions with the participants?", Michael questions. "Indeed your majesty.", Ness answers. "Though it is rude of me to make assumptions concerning this matter that does not need my input, however I think...", he takes a pause for a moment.

Michael's face hardens, "You think?". Ness takes a deep breath and looks away, "I think it is about future heirs, your majesty."

Michael's face becomes sour with the thought of future children. He didn't like them, but didn't hate them either. He just thought they were just...there.

It already didn't help that he has to choose a queen- empress suitable for him and his standards. But his mother was just piling more pressure onto him with the thought of children.

Though it is just as assumption made by his advisor, so there could be a chance that it could be false.

He straightens his posture, "Alright then, escort me to her." Ness smiles once again. "Of course your majesty.

"So, my dearest Michael, it seems you have been doing quite well lately. Alexis informed me about your wellbeing before I requested your presence.", the queen says, placing her teacup on the saucer ontop of the table. She then rests her hands on her lap.

"Yes, mother. I hope you are also faring well.", Michael says, drinking his own cup of tea. His mother smiles, the crinckles under eyes show how sincere her emotion is. She really is doing well. "I have, no need to worry about your mother, after all I did want to talk about your interactions with the participants."

His jaw tightens, 'The issue can't be that important.'

"What about them, surely you aren't afraid one of the participants will drop out of the competition due to my 'intolerable behaviour?"

His mother chuckles to herself. "Of course not, it's just that I want to see how you have progressed." Michael raises an eyebrow. "And if you bedded any of the girls."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. 'Damn it, Ness was right.'

He remembers about how Ness would constantly be right on his assumptions. And this one was no different.

"Mother dearest, don't you think that this conversation is too early. We are only a few months in, and here you are talking about heirs already.", Michael explains. His mother gives him a serious look and sighs to herself.

"Michael, it's for the palace's sake. If any of those girls don't produce an heir suitable for the throne, the palace will fall into pieces.", she reasons. "This is the only way for you to become a true king."

"I don't want to become a king, mother.", Michael says.

His mother becomes stunned at his words, before she could say anything, he interrupts her.

"I want to become an emperor, the greatest one known to man."

She looks at him with a puzzled look before smiling. "Very well then, but in order to do that you must listen to what I have to say." She stands up and walks up to the prince.

"I want you to bed one of those fifteen girls. In order for you to become the greatest emperor, you must have a suitable heir."

She takes his hands into hers and gently squeezes them, silently pleading with him to listen to what she has said.

"If you don't know which one you should start with, I'll choose which one is best.", her words stern and her face serious. Michael lowers his head as an attempt to not look at his mother.

"Please my son, I'm only doing this for you. Don't become a disappointment, because I know only you can be the greatest."

Michael raises his head and looks at his mother's pleading eyes. "Yes mother, I hear you. I'll do what you have to say." His mother smiles and gently places a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, my dearest."

Moments later, Michael excused himself to prepare himself to meet with one of the participants. As the door closes, the queen's most trusted servant, a middle-aged woman enters the room quietly.

"Sophia.", the queen called out to her servant. "Yes, your majesty."

"Monitor those girls for me. Bring me the ones that are most beautiful, and most importantly..."

"Suitable enough to produce an heir."

Sophia looked at the queen with surprise, "Your majesty, forgive me for asking but, isn't it too early for such things?"

The queen smiled at her servant, "I'm merely doing it for my son, he wishes to become an emperor. These girls didn't come here to just have the 'princess treatment' for free."

Her smile grew wider, "They have to work for it Sophia, and I'm making them work for it. Even if it means making them drop out of the competition."

Sophia titled her head to the side in confusion. "And what do you mean by that, your majesty?" The queen laughed to herself loudly, catching her servant off guard.

"You ask ridiculous questions, Sophia.", she answers. "I'll simply root them like the flowers in my garden. Once I see any of their petals wilt or slight change in their behaviour, I'll simply get rid of them."

"I only want flowers that are absolutely perfect for my son."

Sophia smiled to herself as she heard the queen's explanation. "Indeed your majesty, only the best is suitable for his majesty."

In the garden, sat Michael and Aurora of the Palace of Cecil, infamous for her lavish lifestyle. She wore jewelry and a tight fitting dress, intended to show her curves as an attempt to seduce the prince.

"Your majesty, it's a great honor to be in your presence once again. I had thought I would never had the opportunity to see you again, but you managed to lift my hopes.", she looked at him with an adoring look. Michael smiled at the praise he was given.

"Of course my dear, I would never leave you all alone by yourself.", Michael starts. "I missed you with all my heart, my dearest.", he gently rubs her cheek, causing her cheeks to become a tint of pink.

She giggles at the attention given to her. "You know how to make a princess swoon for you, your majesty!", she says with excitement. Michael smiles to himself.

Aurora twirls a piece of her hair,"So if I may ask your majesty, where is Alexis? It's strange not seeing him with you.", she looks over to him with a pout. He is surprised but questions her,"Why would you want to know?"

Aurora giggles in response, unaware this irritated the prince. He noticed this was a habit of hers, to annoyingly giggle at an inquiry she wishes not answer.

"Anyways.", the prince starts,"I would like to ask where you get such beautiful dresses and accessories. I believe they greatly suit you."

Michael gives her a gentle smile, waiting for her to answer and potentially give up some information concerning the suspicious increase of taxes.

"Oh these, they're just some gifts my parents sent from home. I hope one of these days we could visit my homeland.", she says. Her smile falters a bit.

He smiles.

"So, if I may ask, what were you doing when I wasn't around?" Aurora giggled nervously, fidgeting with her hands. "I was...well. I was thinking about you, your majesty."

Michael looks at her with disappointment. "Aurora, do you recall the words I told the participants those few months ago?" She hesitantly nods. "You do know I refer to you as well." His tone becoming darker with every word he spoke.

"I instructed you to either show me your affections, or become someone of great use to me. And yet..."

"You decide not to pick any one of the options I gave you. You decided to waste my time."

She stands up in shock at his words, her nails stinging her palm. "How could you think of me that way?!"

She stared at the prince with anger, before realizing what she has done and sitting herself back down. She yelled at the prince. She caused a scene. If anyone were to see what had happened, rumors would spread like wildfire.

Suddenly, she puts a gentle smile on her face. "Forgive me your majesty for my outburst, I didn't know how to react when you said such hurtful words to me." She pouts as a way to soften his heart, but unknowingly fails to do so.

Michael quirks a brow at her act, but decides to brush it off and forgive her, reluctantly. Her pout is replaced with a smile as she fixes her dress and her hair.

With him reaching a near dead end, Michael decides to make a final move.

"Why don't you come to my chambers, alone."

Aurora is shocked at the invitation and deducts that not only could this be a great opportunity to surpass her competitors, but also as a way to gain an advantage of potentially producing an heir before anyone else.

"I would love to, your majesty.", as she reached her hand out for him to escort her, personally.

You awaken from your nap in the library, you then stretch your arms before folding them. Your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings, looking at the wooden shelves filled with books from top to bottom.

'I've never seen Michael read a book ever since I came here.', you wonder. It's a mystery to you on why this place has a whole library, but you have seen no one enter the place.

Other than the maids coming to dust the area thoroughly, but that doesn't matter. You should focus on more important things. For instance, where is Michael?

You take a look at the sky through the window. It's past evening. The two of you were supposed to meet before then. You blame yourself for dozing off, when trying to learn about the royal etiquette. The book you read was big enough to be used as a murder weapon.

You hastily walk out of the library, to go meet with him. 'He probably did this on purpose, making me work like a mad woman. Though it is my fault for not keeping track of time.'

When you reach the doors to his chambers, you knock on the door to check if he's available.

You hear a few whispers, not audible enough for you to make out what their saying. "Enter.", but you hear someone whisper to someone, to not let you enter.

Taking in a deep breath, you enter.

The scene before you was Michael and Aurora holding each other in their arms. Her palms resting on his chest and his hands on the sides of her hips.

They both look disheveled. You saw smudges of pink lipstick trailing from his lips to his neck and his collar unbuttoned and wrinkled, while her sleeves lower than they were before.

The smile on Michael's face was mocking and the flushed cheeks of Aurora was almost identical to her hair. As well as the pink smudged lipstick on her lips.

To witness such a thing before you. It hurts. You've read stories on women who've caught their husband in the act of an affair, but acted as if it never happened.

You've eavesdropped on your mother and the other ministers' wives conversations a few times before. According to your mother, one woman found her husband in bed with another, but only asked for what he wanted for dinner.

It's quite devastating when you think about it. But that doesn't matter. You're dealing with a prince who's love and affections could be given to all, but is not truly genuine.

You should care less.

"I sincerely apologize for interrupting your time with his majesty, however I am need of his assistance." Aurora gave you look of disdain, upset about how you barged into the room of them cuddling together.

The nonchalance in your voice does not help either.

"What is that you need his majesty's assistance with, you can clearly see that I'm still having my time with him.", she breaks away from his hold and stands in front of you.

"I can understand why you are upset about me barging in, however his majesty has a meeting with me. So, please excuse us."

You gestured to Michael so the both you could go, and he nods.

"Lady (Name) is right, you should get going. You've spent more than enough time with me.", he takes a napkin out of his pocket and wipes his face. "We'll continue this later."

"But your majesty-"

"Get going now, or are you incapable of escorting yourself out?"

With no other option, Aurora leaves, but with a sour look on her face directed to you. You could almost see tears coming from her eyes, you almost felt bad for her.

Key word, almost.

You waited to hear the sound of her footsteps to diminish. You sigh to yourself and look over to Michael. The smile on his face.

"So, did you get anything from her?", you started. He looked at you, fixing his collar and wiping the lipstick stains.

"Why, but of course. At first, she claimed her parents sent her gifts, but with a kiss or two, she confessed to the tax increase."

"Did she ever explain why she did all this?"

He gave you a side eye before continuing , "Apparently to gain more of my attention, it's a habit of hers to seek the attention of every person around her. Friend or foe."

He chuckled at the look on your face. You were...disappointment. The sympathy you had for her died when you heard the reason why of the sudden tax increase.

"How did she manage to do this? Surely, she couldn't have done it by herself.", you questioned.

"She asked her majesty. My mother."

Pardon. He saw how confused you are, with your mouth agape and your brows raised.

"I suspect my mother has given her permission to do whatever she wants in order to get my attention.", he says.

"Wouldn't that be an unfair advantage, what about the rest of participants?", you were confused. Did her majesty really not care of what the public thought of her?

"It would only be unfair if I fell for it, after all I'm not all that interested with anyone at the moment.", he smiled mischievously.

For some odd reason, you were relieved when he said those words. "Why are you so relieved at this fact? I thought you already knew I'm not interested into such women.", he started.

You shot him an irritated look, "Then do explain the lively scene I saw moments before. Was it to rile her on, to play with her, to bed her, your majesty?"

He stated clapping at you, as if saying 'Precisely the point.' To say it felt humiliating would be an understatement. But you didn't know why.

You took a deep breath.

"Would it be wrong for I to assume that her majesty, requested an heir from you?"

His form became still as if he had been turned to stone. "If that is the case then..."

You straightened your posture.

"Would you do the honor, of making me the first woman to carry your child."

In order for Michael Kaiser to become an emperor, he needs to have heir.

Taglist.

@lightoftheamethyst , @kimura-uzuri , @kascar-chronicle , @faaariiii-world , @comet-kun , @nerdiel-has-no-braincells , @ariachaos , @kaisers-wife , @v1viarisu , @sleepyharuu , @izayumi-chan , @tamashiiraiden.

Hi.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #Blue Roses with Gold Lining #vandal-flower

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dmitriene · 10 months

Text

— i don't care anymore.

summary: feelings accumulated inside of you for years abruptly bursted out. content: re4! leon x fem! agent reader tags: nsfw, smut, hurt/comfort, mentions of blood - death - trauma - nausea - alcohol, confused relationship, receiving fingering, unprotected p in v, marking. (let me know if i forgot something!) authors note: my first smut which includes leon and quite sensitive themes, hope you like it! please enjoy your reading) 🖤 (18+ warning)

«i'm so lost and confused / i don't know what to do»

«where are they now / i don't care anymore»

Bioweapon —

USSTRATCOM — a place that gradually began to feel like a cage in which you found yourself due to your own choice, joining a secret unit on the list of a few more people in order to prevent the spread of bioweapons, devoting not only your body and mind to this cause — but also your life.

Contact —

Leon Scott Kennedy — the first person who took a step towards you and the first acquaintance that significantly smoothed everything that happens around you — to be honest, an awkward temporary contact with a fair haired man even pleased you, because your rare meetings and short dialogues made your thoughts switch to a slight smile playing around the corners of his lips as he jokes about an upcoming mission or discusses how he would like to go on vacation, and you, to be honest, too.

Zombies —

A defocused look and a veil before the eyes — not yours, but a rebellious creature in front of you, a twisted body and indistinct sounds that came from the mouth of an incomprehensible creature while its ragged movements and crooked legs carried it towards you in desperate attempts to get to you, only for your fingers to pull the gun trigger and fill the space with the sounds of gunshots, the bullets ripping through layers of already rotting flesh only to riddle the body of a creature that faintly reminded you of its human appearance, until it finally fell to the ground.

Blood —

Crimson thick liquid — it oozes like rubies from a limp body in scarlet streams along the floor and down to your feet, and you feel how strong and fast your heart beats arrhythmically, dispersing the blood through your own body with a loud noise from an overabundance of the body, forcing the whole body to break through weak pulsation, you don’t even have time to comprehend what is happening, as a heavy and itchy load immediately falls on your entire body, starting to feel cold sweat that collected in small drops on your skin, forcing your hands to automatically start trying to convulsively brush off the unpleasant discharge.

Nausea —

Unbearable pressure on the cranium — which seemed to have an impact on you from all sides, as soon as you look away from the corpse, your head starts to spin and your breath spirals in earnest, a disgusting lump forms in your throat and it seemed as if all space was leaving under your feet, and any matter around dissolving, followed by a vile, indescribable feeling that forced the body to strain to its maximum limit.

Panic —

An overwhelming feeling that sharply wedges everything around and is very blurry — you try to focus on the environment around you and you suddenly feel that you have nothing to breathe, in an instant you seem to be deprived of any access to oxygen, which, it would seem, should have been enough, your mouth opens in panic and in a futile attempt to swallow more air, but everything turns out to be in vain.

Comfort —

A sharp feeling of psychophysical pleasure and the opportunity to breathe — the necessary warmth began to spread through the body following the sensation of someone's arms ringed around you, someone's strong figure embraces you in an understanding embrace, as if only wanting to divert your thoughts from everything that previously worried you, and then a heavy hand lies on your back and begins to slowly draw ornate patterns with his fingertips

— «Shh.. everything is fine..»

the velveteen tone of voice helps to recognize in whose hands you are and the heart finally stops abnormally rushing around the chest, your breathing gradually returns to normal and in a matter of a moment the lump rolls back from a simple realization — you are in the safest possible place at the moment.

Monastery —

The long awaited feeling that falls on your shoulders and covers you with apathy like a blanket — a successfully completed mission safely returned you for some time to your usual state of affairs, being in the comfortable environment of your monastery and inspiring peace of mind that affects better than any medicine that helps excess weight and thoughts vanish from your body like something superfluous.

Alcohol —

Astringent and bitter taste that recreates a burning sensation in the mouth and further down the throat — an uncounted sip of ruby liquid makes the body perform an incredible somersault, thoughts turn into porridge and eyes get wet over an unpleasant veil that your obscuring gaze, because it is in such an environment that memories overtake you.

Aggression —

Discontent seething through the veins with hot blood, covering everything in front of you — your eyebrows frown after the hope that a few sips of alcohol will help you calm down and cope with painful thoughts, a glass of tart liquid is instantly emptied, your heart is convulsively knocking on your chest and blood walks all over your body with a familiar noise, and then you can’t stand it, with all your strength you hit the glass on the table, breaking the glass to smithereens, while your fingers instinctively clench around the fragments in an attempt to forget, injuring yourself on thin glass.

Return —

A confusing sensation of fussiness and unbearable tension — an unusual sudden fussiness and tight clenching of the lips until the pinkish skin turns white, new and uncomfortable feelings that arose somewhere on the internal soil due to the meeting with the long straight corridor that led to the oval office, provoking uncomfortable bubbling and noticeable lack of air to re-form deep inside, while the mind screamed endlessly that there was no place for weakness and your own discomfort, so the fingers had to slide along the bridge of the nose in an attempt to get out of the viscous shackles of an unpleasant foreboding.

Disruption —

Acute anxiety and inability to focus on the environment — as soon as you cross the threshold of the door out of the office on cottony legs, you already unconsciously rush towards any free room to lie down there until you come to your senses, until your vision swims worse than the raging sea waves followed by a sharp movement of your hand that pulls some unknown door handle for you to roll over the threshold and lock yourself between four walls, leaning back against a wooden surface and taking in air into the lungs.

Need —

Feeling unable to cope with what is happening on your own — fingers smear transparent drops of tears on your face before lifting your head and only then perceive the surrounding picture, in your most vulnerable and hopeless position you locked yourself in an unknown office with a man whom you had already allowed to probe your weakness — Leon Scott Kennedy, you know nothing about him except his name and pair of blue eyes that look at you in pure surprise, and you feel even worse from the realization that if he were to pull you to him again now, you would gladly give in to this impulse, but instead you stand with your back to him and tremblingly reach for the door handle.

Consolation —

A warm, honey like feeling that you succumb to and let yourself feel weaker than usual — only to hear an already completely unimportant document slap on the table before footsteps echo against your eardrums and you feel close contact with his warm chest before strong arm shamelessly wrap around your waist line, carefully and torturously slow forcing you, like a feather, to turn to face him, only to bury your face somewhere in his chest and at the same moment endless and unintelligible sobs pour from your lips, and the tongue unties itself, as soon as his voice with warm breath touches the shell of your ear

— «Shh, sweetheart, i got you.. i got you»

your voice is hoarse and torn after another sob, and you don’t care at what moment a gentle appeal sweetly slipped from his lips

— « I-I'm.. I-I can't take it, Leon.. I'm»

— «I know.. i know»

Attraction —

A blind reaction to the inability to think concretely — a ridiculous desire to remain in caring hands and sink into an unexpected need to feel his presence closer, to force all the disgusting memories to burn out of your head as your head slowly lifts up to meet his gaze with your tear stained eyes, and his hand is incredibly tender as he caresses your cheek and his thumb carefully traces a line under your eyes, collecting tears and watching your eyelashes quiver at the sudden feeling of embarrassment that has blossomed inside you and revealed a pinkish blush on your cheeks.

Awareness —

A complete understanding and acceptance of what is happening, penetrating the spine, an awareness of a need that rises above everything else — his head slowly lowers to face you, and a finger slides from your cheek to your chin to gently lift it, you catch a small quiver of his eyelashes before his warm lips touch yours in an uncertain kiss, and you don’t even have time to comprehend what is happening and the seething heat inside, which made your heart contract and beat not because of an unpleasant lump of feelings, but something warmer, and he pulls away with a half lidded eyes in order to cover half of his face with his hand, squeezing out

— «I'm sorry.. i shouldn't do this, probably, i should - »

he does not finish, because the realization hits you with pressure and you give in to the need, dropping your lips to his again.

Passion —

A strong impulse that is accompanied by an irresistible attraction to someone — something that makes you find yourself in his arms, seasoning your back against a cool wall, while his warm tongue greedily explored all the depths of your mouth and your sweet lips, pulling charming moans and needy whining to his ears — he is ready to give in to your every desire, drawing a path of kisses from your lips to your neck to paint it with bright buds of scarlet traces, a warm hand carefully pulls off your blouse to throw it behind your back, needing to touch your seductive flesh, teasingly swiping his tongue up your collarbones as his free hand gently yanks off your bra, making you whine

— «Please, hmn.. L-Leon..»

his voice is lower than usual, demonstrating a reciprocal need for contact as his tongue touches your chest and lightly brushes your nipples with his teeth, causing your spine to intuitively arch and your fingers to sink into his shoulders

— «Mm, sweetheart, just a little bit, want to taste every part of your delicious body..»

Lust —

The need for voluptuousness, sensual sexual desire from which all sorts of sensible thoughts float — the only thing that left room for thinking was how to cover every part of your body with his marks in order to squeeze out more moans and sweet sobs from you, and it comes out when he gives you what you wished for a long time, wriggling in his arms for closer contact.

his hand slid freely up your thigh, making your legs flinch around his waist, while his hand teasingly lay on your pubic tubercle hidden behind the thin, soaked fabric of your panties to run his fingers along your sensitive spot, listening to how his name slides from your swollen lips

— «L-Leon!»

he hums, turns his attention back to your face and in a quivering kiss covers your lips again until his fingers finally begin to make jagged and erratic patterns over the small pea of your clit, smiling into your lips as your back arches sharply and your head rises back, and he seizes this moment to slip outside of your underwear and pull the panties down, leaving them hanging from your leg while his fingers spread your labia minora to plunge one finger into your wet crotch, swiping and repeating fictitious movements in and out , until your hips begin to buck up intuitively, with every opportunity to move towards his caresses — and a smirk blooms on his lips, he adds another finger and watches your face writhe with an overabundance of feelings.

Euphoria —

An overwhelming sense of bliss — trembling into every cell of your body, making you tremble in his firm arms and sink your head into his shoulder as the walls of your cunt clenched and unclenched around his fingers until the sweet sensation of orgasm slowly subsided, allowing him to take his fingers out and bring them up to his lips, licking your juices utterly greedily, watching your cheeks redden shamefacedly at the sight of him savoring you on his fingers before sinking back into your joint kiss, letting you taste that strange taste on the tip of your tongue before moaning into his lips with not a request, but a sincere need

— «N-need.. need you..»

a low laugh sounds extremely languid, vibrating off his chest and allowing you to feel it to the fullest in connection with you being in his hands, while his whisper caressed your ear, swiping a wet strip along your ear lobe, drawing a sob out of you

— «Need what, hun? You need to talk properly, hm?»

the challenge in the tone of his voice makes you flinch, the desire to feel his cock deep inside of your cunt covered everything with a veil and pressure in the lower abdomen, provoking your tongue to untie enough to squeeze out embarrassedly

— «Need your c-cock.. inside, please.»

a satisfied smile stretches along the line of his lips so that he again covers her lips with his, soft and hot, weaving his fingers into strands of your hair and running between them with his fingers, while his relatively cottony legs from his own arousal lead him to a table nearby, Leon lays you on lightly cool surface before parting your lips and finally freeing himself from the stuffy layers of clothing.

Frenzy —

An extreme degree of mental arousal, a violent loss of self-control — a surge that makes him, with impatient and sharp movements, pull off his t-shirt and throw it aside, only to go down with his hand to the belt of his trousers, tangling his fingers in the buckle and deftly releasing it to lower the interfering fabric into floor, and all he needs is one quick glance at your glossy eyes that are following the movement of his hands and how he was getting close to the elastic of his boxers as if he play's with a cat, with you.

the nervous lump finds its way down your throat as you watch as Leon releases the rubber band and lets his cock slide out freely, causing him to shudder in contact with the cool air, revealing to you a view of his slightly swollen cock dripping with precum, his footsteps in your direction measured and feel like an eternity, until you feel his hands smoothly spread your legs, running his tongue over his lips at the sight of your shiny with arousal cunt, and the spine arches by itself as your hips thrust into his touch, and you hide your reddened face in your hands, suddenly feeling his lips on the skin of your neck, shuddering from his hot breath and sensual whisper

— «Don't hide your pretty face, darling»

he adjoins his sharp cheekbone to your neck and then leaves a smeared bite, leading a path of crimson hickeys and butterfly kisses to the line of your sharp collarbones and teasing them with his teeth, awakening in you an unbearable heat from the accumulated arousal that provokes you to reach down with your hand, groping for his cock and running a finger along his urethra, smearing precum all over it and getting out Leon's sharp growl, which is then covered by his deep voice

— «You want this so much, aren't you, needy thing?»

his tone of voice completely obscures your mind and ability to think concretely, so you foolishly nod your head and whine from a quivering kiss on the top of your head before he starting to act, slowly pushing his crimson head inside your cunt, marveling at the ultimate narrowness

— «F-fuckgh, sweet thing, you are so tight»

his movements are slow and measured, full of exhilarating excitement, before he picks up the pace and begins to move more boldly, pressing his hips against your buttocks, on which his large and slightly rough hands rested, as his cock plunged into your hot insides with each time faster and faster, watching with eyes covered with lust as your cunt sucks his cock into you all the way and shrinking as if refusing to let go, and his pace became almost animal, pulling out loud and hoarse moans from the depths of your throat, covering your mouth with his hand and whispering softly into your ear, while he slowly put your legs on his shoulders

— «Shh, sweetheart, don't want anyone to know what we're doing here, aren't you?»

and you nod dumbly again, feeling your legs rest on his shoulders as he rams into you from a completely different angle, hitting your kervix and enjoying your muffled moans and whimpers as you desperately try to mutter about the intense pressure in your stomach

— «Need t' cum.. pleaseleonwanttocum!»

he answers you with a deep growl before looking down at you and freeing your lips from his palm, replacing it with his lips to drown out your further cries of pleasure, whispering

— «Cum.. cum for me, let yourself go, yeah?»

and you writhing, moaning into his lips as he kisses you endlessly despite the catastrophic lack of air, while you ring his neck with your hands and let yourself arch, stretching like a string into a frenzy, while your knees convulsively trembled, and all the erratic moans driven by the wave of orgasm get taller, matching his by how much your cunt clenched around his cock.

— «S-shit, doll, not going to last m-much!»

you both moan obscenely loudly in unison, trying to drown out all sounds as much as possible, while your body convulses pleasure like an electric shock, he licks your swollen lips while your eyes roll back in ecstasy for a few moments, feeling Leon crush your thighs with rapture , feeling his orgasmic discharge approaching, he thrusts into your hot and dripping cunt one last time, and then ejaculates, staining the walls of your cunt with his hot ropes of cum before going limp and wrapping his strong arms around your body, pulling you closer.

Bliss —

A feeling of supreme pleasure, joyful and comforting — what you feel at last again in a long time, feeling him gently trace his thumb over the marks he covered your now limp body before pulling his cock out of you and kissing your cheek, hearing you whimper softly before snuggling closer to him from being so tired and wanting to stay in this trembling moment - so he gently strokes your back, lifting your chin to look at your tired sleepy eyes, which makes him mumble softly

— «How are you feeling now, hun?»

your lips curl into a warm, sleepy smile before nuzzling into his chest and muttering, hugging him as tightly as you can, clinging to your current situation

— «Good.. never felt so good before..»

those were the last words from you before you let fatigue and exhaustion get the best of you and pass out in his arms and gentle presence.

© dmitriene - my masterlist please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me. reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

#leon scott kennedy #resident evil leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy hurt/comfort #leon kennedy comfort #[ ✒️july writing ]

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mono-dot-jpeg · 9 months

Text

lost and sick - express crew

summary; being part of the underground meant you lived an unstable life and it was hard to erase.

genre/extra tags; one shot, fluff, angst, teen! reader, no dialogue fic, reader is from jarilo v

word count; 440

[platonic] [teen! reader] [gender neutral! reader]

[warnings; chronic illness, reader does not like being touch and makes it obvious, children experiments, death of parents, mentions of torture (but never talked abt any deeper)]

a/n; you'd think with all the time I've been on genshin (idk how long but too long), i would take the time to learn more of the characters. but to be fair i stopped playing when sumeru first released. i played like a decent chunk of it, then i stopped. uhh, well, hope you enjoy anyways.

being a citizen of the great mine sucked. a lot of it sucked. and a lot of it was traumatizing.

being forcefully tested on, pushed down to your tiny limit as a kid, trying to sway your naive brain that this was fine, and trying to convince you that you would be cured.

if only it was that easy.

if only it didn't take years for someone to find out about the secret circle of fake doctors that were "curing kids" just to get a quick buck out of parents.

your parents were long gone after you got worse. they ran out of money and out of time.

but you were found, broken, lost, and ill. you were taken to natasha immediately.

you told them your origins, albeit not all of it. and you were taken in by a mysterious group, the astral express, trailblazers; they called themselves.

you went wary. extremely so.

they understood. they thought, this young teen is lost without a parent and support, and now they're getting it? they would be wary too. it looked too good to be true after your experiences of torture and anguish.

you kept your distance. well... as much distance as you could when you were ill. some days, you would find yourself with the energy to walk around and care for yourself for most of the day. and other days, you would be bedridden, unable to move as you feel like you were stuck in that damned lab again, numb and unable to fight.

it was.. a struggle.

the crew was extremely patient with you. it was almost embarrassing to you. having them to be so nice to you even if you avoided them as much as possible, it made you feel bad for them. but.. it's not like they knew anything about the labs. they just knew that you were a broken kid needing a home. and they wanted to try and provide that.

maybe it was time to really tell them everything.

and you did.

you told them, the horror you lived through, how your life was ticking faster than others because of it, how you were forced to deal with unwanted shots and lab tests.

they were in shock but they were proud that you had spoken to them about it. and after that you opened up to them a little more.

you started to find a way to embrace your short life with the help of the astral express.

and you don't mind living this short life if you know that you have a family who love you dearly and gave you the home you deserved.

#honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #welt yang x reader #himeko x reader #caelus x reader #stelle x reader #march 7th x reader #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader

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sincerely-sofie · 22 days

Text

Chapter 1 of Sofie Plays "Slay the Princess": The Hero and the Princess

Into the insanity.

[ Beginning ] - [ Previous Part ] - [ Next Part ]

I like that we have a little bird talon as our cursor! Fun detail. I'd like to use custom cursors in my own visual novels someday.

Awww! This line is going to come back to bite me, isn't it.

THERE'S VOICE ACTING?????? DANG IT. Now I kinda wish I waited to record myself playing through this game like a let's play... alas. We persist with a playthrough journal comprised of still images and bullet point notes :<

Asked the Narrator how a princess locked in a basement could be dangerous enough to end the world and now I just want to have a perpetual sleepover with the gal. At the very least, we can give her some company while she's down there. Right?

Asked the narrator for details on how she'd end the world and now he's calling me a sheeple. RUDE.

Question: Does the Princess have actual powers that allow her to enforce her will on others? Or is this just the Narrator being anti-princess? or anti-this-Princess-in-particular?

I INSTANTLY DISTRUST THIS MAN. He's going to gaslight me to heck and back, isn't he? He already is, I just know it.

Told the narrator I'm going to meet the Princess before I make any decisions about executions. I'm doubting myself so bad. Is he the manipulator here? Is he genuinely warning me against the Princess being the true manipulator? He sounds uber bitter and I want to know their history.

Narrator, honey, I'm glad you've got a bit you're committed to and all, but I don't want to meet someone new whilst holding the means to end them. Forget taking the blade, I'm taking my sweet time getting to know this poor woman.

Okay yeah the Narrator is 100% not a good guy. That last line made me question whether he was voicing the Hero's thoughts, but the tone he used while saying it makes me feel like he's just working really hard at applying for the role of Intrusive Thought #4 Understudy.

THESE DIALOGUE OPTIONS ARE KILLING ME. NOOOOOO DO NOT LIE TO HER WHEN YOU SAY YOU'RE HERE TO SAVE HER!!! THAT'S MEAN!!!!!

Told the Princess "Uh hi I think I'm here to slay you? Question mark?" and she responded with this:

The Narrator immediately followed up with the below. Go kick rocks Narrator. I want to at least be polite if I'm going to kill someone.

Can't decide whether the Princess is playing at the role of innocent victim or not. We operate on innocent until proven guilty laws here, though. So I'll act accordingly.

Just met the Princess and the Hero is INSTANTLY simping for her as the Narrator looks on in distaste. Straight up "HI WIFEY" nonsense. I like this couple.

Oh my word he's a dork. I love this character.

Told her about why I'm supposed to kill her and I'm 100% believing what she said. I don't care if she's going to sprout fangs and disembowel me with her teeth or anything, I adore this gal.

Oh no. She accurately read my thought process.

Okay so here's a theory: The Narrator really hates monarchies. Which is fair. But this seems very personal for him, and he keeps bringing it up, like the Princess deserves to die for the sin of her being a princess. Is this some kind of worldwide magic anti-monarchist government overthow situation? I know that's definitely not the case but I am grasping at straws to understand his motivation.

I asked her how she's been eating or drinking when I'm apparently the only person she's seen in a very, very long time, and she dodged the question, and the Narrator backed her up. This lady is 100% not human. The Narrator is itching to get me to kill her and is sweeping over what the Hero perceives as a plot hole, because from his perspective, he knows it isn't. She's not human. Jotting that down for later.

I told her that we could do the perpetual sleepover thing I mentioned earlier and I'm realizing how callous of a solution that is now that the Hero is all like "Yay I came up with smart solution! Win-win! Go me :D"

The Princess and Narrator both shot down the sleepover solution. Poor Hero.

The music just cut out. She's doing the anime mean girl thing where she examines her nails. I'm having regrets.

I'M STRAIGHT UP NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME ANYMORE, GUYS

On the one hand: I could lock her in the basement and leave without killing her with my own hands. But with the abrupt change in tone I am no longer confident that this woman isn't going to chew off her own arm like a coyote in a trap so that she can escape and do... whatever it is she intends to do. I'm not sure that's exactly ending the world. But I'm leery of it regardless. She doesn't need food or water apparently, so she likely wouldn't die if I left her alone down here, which just further cements the idea that she's going to do anything necessary to get out.

On the other hand: I could kill her directly, and try to be merciful about how I do it.

On the OTHER other hand, I could free her, but I no longer feel safe around this woman.

I've been staring at these options for so long guys I'm so worried about making the wrong choice. I know that the opening screen said there's no wrong decisions but like. STILL.

Okay, decision made. She's definitely taking the self-dismemberment route if I leave her here, and she's definitely coming after me the second she's out. I'd rather try to make this quick than go through the exceptionally frightening scenario I'm envisioning in my head. Hopefully she's nice about inevitably overpowering me in the subsequent struggle and stabbing me afterward.

Hey, you guys know how 3D horror games will use 90 degree angle blind corners in order to facilitate jump scares? I think I just realized visual novels use line breaks to accomplish the same goal, and I'm scared to progress to the next line.

SHE IS GOING TO CHEW THROUGH THAT ARM AND I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE ASAP.

I CALLED IT I CALLED IT I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT HAVING CALLED IT SOMEBODY PICK UP THE PHONE BECAUSE I CALLED IT AND NOW I NEED 911 ON THE LINE

Oh cool beans! Reality warping! Let's gooooooooo

Yeah no she's definitely got reality warping abilities. I figured that if she doesn't need to eat or drink she wouldn't be able to bleed to death after losing an arm, so I closed the door behind me... and it locked.

Decided to try and wait her out while she lurks in the shadows and now we're LARping Sans and Chara as I fall asleep.

I chickened out and entered the dark to confront her. It went very well for me!

Oh... I don't like that title.

See you guys in the next chapter! I am scared :)

#slay the princess #stp #sofie liveblogs stuff

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blackwolfstabs · 2 months

Note

Omg I just thought of something

Can I get your team Loomis headcanons for shits and giggles pls I feel it would be so fun plsplsplspls

-🩵

uhhhh OF COURSE!!

for shits and giggles and you, the billy to my sam: 🩶

Team Loomis Headcanons

──────── GIFS not mine

don't you judge me billy ok? I MEAN IT 😤😂 (side note: these are based in a universe where Billy's not dead because it's easier and i love thinking about it lol)

Billy wants to be a dad rather than just a father to Sam, but he doesn't know how to do it in the right way, which leads him to fall back on trying to guide her in the right direction, even if he's hard on her about it.

They bicker CONSTANTLY. like we're talking almost every time they have a casual conversation. they're a lot alike so they butt-heads like you would not believe. you want proof? this is from something personal that i wrote a while back in an AU where everyone that was killed in the Scream verse was resurrected. Christina, Billy, Sam, and Tara all live together (just gonna share the dialogue because context is a thing and you'd be lost if i didn't give you a whole explanation):

CHRISTINA: *talking about Tara, who she had to wake up for a doctor's appointment* She's grumpy, so that's your fair warning. I gave her 5 minutes to come out here so she can eat before we go. We'll see if she does it... SAM: You should keep that in mind next time you think she's the good one. I don't give you half the hard times she does. BILLY: Maybe with waking up, that is. SAM: What's that supposed to mean? BILLY: Honestly, you're a handful, and you're 26. SAM: Well, you're 43, and you're a handful, so... BILLY: You watch your backtalk, Sam. SAM: You watch your front-talk, Billy. BILLY: Hey. Those are fighting words. SAM: Bring it. CHRISTINA: Alright, you two. Give it a rest. *beat* Samantha, you really should watch your mouth though. SAM: Me? This one started it. He should watch his. *mockingly* Honestly, I'm 26 years old. BILLY: Oh, really? You wanna play that game?

these hcs are for @alphawolfstabs, so i thought he'd enjoy that, but to everyone else, sorry that was long haha i didn't expect to share it.

anyways, back to the rest of the headcanons!

everything is Sam's fault. or Billy just blames everything on Sam. it doesn't matter who did it or why, if someone asks, you can bet you'll hear Billy answer "SAM!" and it drives Sam crazy.

if Sam isn't feeling well, is hurt, tired, or emotional, Billy is the first to notice (he notices even before Tara does).

as much as it doesn't seem like it, Sam trusts Billy a lot. he's always been right, when it comes to her and deep down (and i mean DEEP DEEP down) there's a place in her heart for him. in other words, she wouldn't admit it, but she does love him.

Billy loves teasing Sam just to piss her off. he does it for fun.

Sam disses the crap out of Billy just to piss him off. she does it for fun.

they make one hell of a fighting team (this one is canon but imagine them in the flesh together)

───────────────────────────

just a few for you right there. let me know if you want more and i'll do them in the future! 😉

ty for requesting these!! 🩶

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melodrama-ticcc · 8 months

Note

Hey it’s the “who are you comfortable writing for tcsm” anon (if it’s easier call me -🌺) and I’ll start with a Sissy x Fem!Reader oneshot idea.

In game one of sissy’s voice lines goes something like “there’s no hiding from reality sunshine you gotta face it” and it got me thinking. What if she witnessed the reader accidentally killing another victim and takes this as an opportunity to manipulate them into joining the family. It has been really hard being the only girl in the family so it’d be nice to have some company. But Sissy decides to be a little selfish and keep the reader to herself for a little while. Just until she’s ready for the family.

.: 𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 :.

hello again anon! thank you for the request <3 sorry for the wait, i hope it lives up to expectations! i love the idea of utilizing in game voice lines to inspire fics or dialogue for fics, it’s so clever. so i was definitely excited to use that to my advantage in the premise of this one. also i love sissy so much, she’s my main when playing family.

abstract: after watching you accidentally kill your dear friend ana, sissy takes advantage of your deteriorating mental state and invites you to join the family.

warnings: death, murder, gore & mentions of blood, manipulation, religion, religious themes and religious trauma, cults and cultism, mentions of suicide and self harm, stockholm syndrome, sexually suggestive, mentions of sex, homophobia on account of religious themes

—

sissy enjoys the act of spreading the lord’s word, those whom she can convert will be forgiven and saved from this forsaken land. she revels in the satisfaction of freeing another one’s soul, her only purpose in this life. she was a modern day prophet, spreading the lord’s word and enacting only what he had told her to. she’d save them all, they’d see the light.

and yet, she selfishly craves the way the blood paints her limbs when she tears into someone, the way it curdles in the creases of her skin, or the way it coagulates when it becomes too thick. but perhaps the most beautiful image is watching their tainted souls vacate their sinful bodies. she swears she can see the life leave their eyes, watch as they are freed. it’s then that she knows she’s done her job. for, when they cannot be helped, it is sissy’s duty to release them of their misery and send them to the great beyond. that way they may cease their lives of sin and find solace in the forgiveness of the lord above.

unlike the rest of her family she does not kill out of fear or hate or malice, nor does she kill for fun. she kills because it is what the lord has asked of her, and the lord’s word is her compass.

then, why could she not deny the pleasure she felt when others experience pain. call it sick, twisted, sadistic, she felt the all-too-familiar floaty feeling of butterflies in the pit of her stomach each time the scalpel made contact with her victim’s skin. even now, as she rips through the clothing and flesh of that red headed girl. her screams are loud, blood thick. it paints the front of sissy’s floral dress scarlet, her fair skin, her blonde hair, her fingertips. all coated in such a lovely coat of crimson. it’d make such a pretty lipstick, she thinks.

she cannot help but laugh. a giddy euphoria that echoes in the ears of many. including the young woman who watches from what she believes to be a safe distance. it is two separate worlds. two sides of the same coin. on one pleasure, the other horror.

the girl, you, cannot fathom the atrocities this family has enacted, nor the countless innocents that have fallen victim to their inhumane practices. (your name) watches, not because she wants to, but because she cannot bring herself to look away. (eye color) eyes wide in terror, she is fixated on the macabre sight of carnage. her limbs tremble and shake in such a violent fashion, restless. there’s a deniable sense of grief in that moment, and she’s sure she must be dreaming. that something this horrible could never happen to a young woman like her, nor her friends. how’d she even end up here?

three days ago, (your name) had set out with some friends to look for ana’s elder sister. they were all certain maria flores was someplace near, but none of them had ever expected to end up here. connie was now dead, murdered by the pair of careful, feminine hands right in front of her. she had yet to see the others; not ana, not leland, nor julie or sonny. she’d wondered if they were dead too, and a part of her wondered if she’d meet the same fate.

“awe, i love a game of hide ‘n seek!”

a sweet southern drawl calls out from beyond, in search of the young woman she knew was hidden nearby. it would seem now her hiding place in the bushes was not nearly far enough from the scene to be considered safe. here, nowhere was safe. this in combination with her deteriorating condition would make for an early end. she is faint and wobbly on her feet, struggling to withstand the shakes and thrashing her body succumbs itself to, and it’s then she hears the woman call out.

“oh! there you are sug’!”

be it adrenaline, a will to survive, or anything to keep that woman from garnering any further satisfaction in this demented game of her’s, (your name) found it in herself to run. her legs move fast, much faster than the woman that chases her. for a moment she believes she can get away, at least long enough to formulate some sort of escape plan. there’s a well up ahead, and it’s then she decides to throw caution to the wind. it’s a foolish, desperate attempt at salvation, but she hurdles the edge of the stone well and throws herself down.

the fall is peaceful. a safe place. a break from the intensity of being hunted like a wild animal. that is, until she hits the cold, hard ground. her body collides into a pile of dirt, debri and bones. snap! crack! crush! it’s a horrid sound, and god does it hurt. the point of impact surges through her body, aching in the back of her head and lingering for some time. the bones beneath her dig into her back, impaling the skin and stinging at her wounds. it burns, her entire body, and a part of her wishes she’d just die right there.

it takes her some time, but (your name) is able to pull herself back up. only now, it punishes her to move. her left leg shattered in the fall, she is forced to use her right leg to counteract. now, wobbling with a slow limp. the pain is never-ending, and she can hardly think clearly. somewhere in the pile of debri she begins searching for something, anything useful for the current circumstances. be it a key, antiseptic, pain reliever, a knife, anything. the pain is unbearable, hot tears seething from her eyes as she muffles her own sobs between a pursed pout. the echoing sound of footsteps from down the tunnel alert her that her captor is near, though, and the panic sets in.

“shit, there has to be something i can use. anything!” she cries between pants of heavy breaths. her heart beating something fierce. it’s pounding against her chest, furious with anxiety and unrelenting paranoia. she feels she could faint, or have a heart attack — either seem a viable option as opposed to dying at the hands of them. as she sorts through miscellaneous rocks and assorted bones and teeth, she holds back the urge to vomit. warm acidity building in the back of her throat, it’s disgusting. sorting through the remains of god knows what, or who. “fuck!”

with quick footsteps growing closer, the anxiety is too much to bare. her hearts thrashes and speeds up, swelling with blood as her stress rises. it feels as though it could burst, her body struggling to find a stable balance. she knows she must wrap things up quickly, so she grabs what she can; a piece of sharp bone, and clutches it to her chest. fighting through the pain, she seals her lips to withhold her sobs of agony and despair. backing into the shadows she waits, crouched. she does her best to control her breathing, even shutting her eyes for a brief period. a deep breath in, a deep breath out. she recalls what sonny had told her before he left to seek out the others, back in the makeshift underground cell they had been tied up in. it’s the only inkling of comfort she’s able to grasp onto.

the source of the footsteps approaches, turning the corner of the tunnel that led to her. (your name) sees a figure of a woman, and she’s certain it’s that killer who’d been after her. the fight or flight kicks in, and the adrenaline once again does its job at keeping her alive.

“take this, you bastard!”

in an act of self defense, she stabs the woman five, ten, fifteen times. piercing screams cut through the night air and spews of red liquid spray every which way. only for her to continue stabbing; in the back, the shoulder, the chest, the stomach, anyplace she could make contact with. she wouldn’t stop, not until the makeshift shank snaps within the body of her victim. even then, she’s kicking and punching, crying with eyes pried shut. fighting tooth and nail for the basic human right to keep living. nails dig into flesh, tearing away at the skin to inflict any sort of pain she can. the only thing that draws her from her mental cognitions is the sound of another set of footsteps, this time much, much slower, softer. that, and the gentle, slow clapping that follows suit.

it causes her to stop, hands still holding up the body she so relentlessly attacked. her eyes flicker open, revealing a scene of misfortune and betrayal. she sees the blood first, dripping in thick layers down the walls of the tunnel, herself, the body. a pool of it on the floor, filling the air with the scent of iron and metal. then the body, it’s mutilated torso in chunks and pieces about the place. frightened, she screams and lets go, backing herself against the wall. a lifeless body lies on the pile of debris, still gushing blood like a water fountain. only it isn’t the woman who she’d intended to maim, no, its ana.

her entire being turns into a state of shock and denial, a shrill cry echoing down the long hallways of those underground tunnels. her hands come up to clasp her mouth and her eyes well with warm tears, streaming down her cheeks and dripping to the floor. in an instant, she collapses to her knees, shaking her head profoundly as she sobs something ugly.

“no no, no ana! i- i didn’t know- i swear, i thought it was her!” she’s choking on her words, that all too familiar feeling of hot acid building in the back of her throat. her breathing is caught in there too, like she’s choking on her own words. her hands come up to pull at her (hair color) locks, and she’s certain she’s losing her mind. “ana- ana, please, ana i’m so sorry-” she hiccups, holding back the vomit that pulls at her throat. “i can’t.” her sobs are loud, and she moves to hold her face in her hands. if she’d of only known it was ana and not that bitch.

“there’s no hidin’ from reality sunshine, you’ve gotta face it!” sissy has a content smile on her face, comforting, kind. she places a gentle hand against the girl’s back, offering some inkling of reassurance. it’s a simple act of benevolence, but still met with disgust and disdain. only, (your name) hasn’t any more energy to fight, no will to kick that horrid woman away like she’d wished to only moments ago. she was broken and desolate, haunted by the agony and anguish of her mistake. she can’t withstand it, her mind is simply obsolete.

sissy is a woman of god, and those whom she cannot save are gifted the mercy of meeting an early demise. but this one she knows, knows that there is good within her, she feels it. she sees it. saw it in the way she freed that friend of her’s so faultlessly. there is still hope for this one, and sissy takes the opportunity to guide her in the right direction. if she killed now, imagine the things she could do later. she would be an asset to this family.

“sugar, don’t cry, you set that gal’ free!” sissy giggles, her delicate hand rubbing the trembling back of the young woman before her. but (your name)‘s mind is elsewhere, trying to sort through the endless string of thoughts her brain thought up. what would the others say? she just can’t fathom the concept, her killing- no, murdering. a cold blooded killer. she had become the very thing she loathed. her body is unstable, nearly toppling over itself as she wails.

sissy’s bittersweet smile grows as she kneels beside the girl, lowering her voice to a softer tone. “hun, it was ‘bound to happen ‘eventually, she’s with god now.” despite her best efforts, it would seem the girl was still caught up in the heat of the moment, her emotions captivating her attention. yet, sissy would not give up. it was too much of a perfect storm, the key moment to manipulate, no, enlighten her poor soul. “darlin’, lookit me.” she snakes a finger beneath the girl’s chin, her touch light and airy, not like what one would imagine the grasp of an apathetic killer would feel like. it’s almost calming, reassuring. as she cautiously bring the girl’s face to look at her, she takes a moment to dab the wetness off her cheeks with a handkerchief pulled from her pocket.

the tenderness of her gaze is striking to look at, like staring into pools of calm water. it was relaxing, even got her to cease her cries for a moment. she was a pretty woman, if not for her homicidal tendencies.

“say, you’d make a fine woman in this here family we have, grandpa aughtta love you!” she smiles, brushing a flyaway hair out of (your name)’s face and back behind the ear. “ain’t nothin’ to cry ‘bout love, you did the right thing.” sissy’s voice is comforting, and in a moment of heightened emotions and inner turmoil like this one it was easy for (your name) to fall victim to her disguised words. she only nods, eyes wide and doe like as she stares at the pretty face of the woman before her.

“i-i killed her. i killed her cause i thought she was-” she stops herself, not before sissy is shushing her, with a finger pressed against her soft lips.

“shhhh, hey now, it’s alright. she needed savin’.” she smiles again, caressing (your name)’s cheek as she presses on about seeing the light and showing people the way. “you’s a smart girl, i can see it. let me show you. we can live a nice lil’ life on the farm, you’d be a part of the family. safe, peaceful. i promise. and well, it really has been tough bein’ the only girl ‘round here, it’d be nice, t’have some company like you.”

it is difficult not to trust her doting words. (your name) doesn’t know exactly what to think. but in lieu of such a heinous act she couldn’t even stand herself, and perhaps in some regard she needed saving. to repent, to beg forgiveness from ana, anything to free her of such a curse. she’d build herself a prison for the remainder of her days, suffering in the fortitude of her own head. she’d end up killing herself when it became too much, maybe only god could save her. but even then, murder was a sin. she was a sinful woman. a lifespan of mistakes flashes through her head, and scarily, she all most agrees with this sweet woman. she’s demented, fucked up, for she wouldn’t have caused such a terrible accident had it been otherwise.

“you’re considerin’ it, you’re already half way there sug’.” sissy encourages her, reading the thoughts through her empty gaze as if she were an open book. she’s eager, excited, nearly bouncing on her knees. she’s certain if she’s hooked the girl this easily, it wouldn’t take much to reel her in.

ana’s lifeless body is just a void carcass, an empty shell. that’s what all bodies had been, right? a vessel souls utilize to carry out the act of life. it was only temporary, like everything else had been. so, why did it really matter, if it had been something so easily confiscated.

“come on love, let me show you the light.”

perhaps her gentle affirmations became too much for her mind to handle, or, the fear of what would await her if she choose to disagree was too great. regardless the reason, something within her had snapped. broken clean in two. one moment she had been mourning the life of a friend and the next joining the very people who’d caused the entire ordeal. there were two parts of her mental state — one in which longed for the days before, where she lived without the knowledge there had been a terrorizing family of cannibalistic murderers in her texas backyard. but the other wished to escape the reality of what she had become roped into. live a life in which she could ignore the world and deaths of her friends, forget it all ever happened. she’d heard about situations like these, read about them in the morning paper or listened to them on the morning news broadcast. even watched them in television and film or read stories from books. the victim falls for the deceptive captor, ensnared in a trap that costs their freedom under the guise of a worry free life. but in times of emotional dread, a carefree life was an ideal promise to escape a nightmare like this.

(your name)‘s crying had ceased. salt-crusted streaks drying against the soft skin of her cheeks as she takes the hand of a deranged killer. sissy smiles, grasping the girl’s hand gently as they both rise. she’s aware of her worsening physical state, knowing well she’d be responsible for nursing her back to health. she also knew, the family would not be akin to a new comer like this. given johnny’s past, he had tried this on multiple occasions, and given the general disgrace of sissy amongst people like drayton and nancy, a newcomer of this kind would not be accepted so easily.

she would need to be careful. plan each move out in accordance to what the family would want. cater to them, in order to provide some sort of accommodation. this girl was beautiful, she could attest to that, and her good looks would help but only get her so far. she needed to prove herself. but that, that required months of work on sissy’s end. and so, she had decided, (your name) would be her own accomplice, until she saw fit.

pious maybe, but that never stopped sissy from being selfish. nor has it been able to mask her homosexual tendencies. what her leaders in the past had told her meant it was wrong, but it never stopped the way she had felt towards both men and women alike. and, sissy’s selfish side would shine through in their coming months together. in the way she used (your name) for her good looks and willingness to comply, the sex, the romantic nature of their relationship that would develop. all the while, showing her the way. even when sissy had been sure the family was ready to adopt (your name) into the family, she would continue to keep her a secret.

the last thing she’d want was to loose her to some womanizer like johnny, or have her charmed by the others in some way or form. the way sissy saw it, she made (your name), and by that logic, she belonged to her. so, she’d keep her for as long as she wanted, even if it meant keeping her a secret until death. it wasn’t that she wasn’t ready for the family but, rather, they weren’t ready for her. despite the selfishness that fueled the action, she’d continue to justify it in the eyes of the lord.

i helped show her the way, that grants me the eternal forgiveness keeping her to myself would require.

#melodrama #texas chainsaw massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcsm game #tcm #sissy slaughter x reader #sissy slaughter #sissy tcm #sissy sawyer #sissy sawyer x reader #sissy tcm game #tcsm #texas chainsaw game #johnny tcm #black nancy #nubbins sawyer #bubba sawyer #drayton sawyer

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otomefiend · 10 months

Text

Alfons Sylvatica

Story Event: I want to steal you

Chapter 1

It's so much fun translating this event, since Al is such a troll. I love it. His dialogues are stellar. Enjoy this prelude to the wild ride that is Al's event. Every event. You've been warned. Further chapters go places. 👀

~~Part 1~~

It was the day after witnessing a horrific incident during one of the Crown's missions.

Alfons: "How are you doing, Kate?"

Kate: "Ah, it's you, Alfons."

Kate: "Um... I'm fine as ever?"

Alfons: "I see. Oh? Who left this chocolate pudding here?"

Elbert: "....? I have no idea."

Alfons: "It seems there's no name attached to it..."

Without hesitation, Alfons scooped up the pudding with a spoon and popped it into his mouth.

Kate: "Is it okay? It could still belong to someone else."

Alfons: "Dearest Kate, you're always so serious. It's delicious because it belongs to someone else."

Alfons: "Fancy doing something sinful with me? Let me borrow your mouth."

Alfons: "Say aah."

Kate: "Eh? Wait... mmph!"

Alfons: "Heh, now you're my accomplice. How naughty of you, Kate."

Kate: "Just because you put it in my mouth without asking ---."

Harrison: "Oh, here you are, Kate."

Kate: "... Harrison. Is something wrong?"

~~Part 2~~

Harrison: "I have a message from Liam."

~~~

Liam: "I'm really sorry. I was looking forward to our date tonight, but I'm acting as a stand-in on stage at short notice."

Liam: "I wanted us to have a lot of fun at the travelling fair."

~~~

Harrison: "You know, he meant to tell you this in person, but was afraid he wouldn't be able to leave if he saw your face."

Harrison: "That's why I'm delivering the message."

Kate: "I see. Thank you for telling me, Harrison."

Harrison: "Yeah. He was worried, thinking you were still feeling down."

Elbert: "...oh, after last night?"

Elbert: "I heard it was a horrific scene."

The mission I went on with William last night was one of the bloodiest I've experienced since becoming a fairytale writer.

I thought I had gotten used to it, but the scene still lingered on my mind.

(He didn't say it directly, but I think Liam was trying to ask me out on a date out of concern for me.)

He was a kind man who tried to take care of my heart whenever something happened.

Elbert: "... will you be all right?"

(Oh no.... I shouldn't worry others unnecessarily)

Kate: "Yes, don't worry about it. I'm fine."

Elbert: ".... are you sure?"

Alfons: "What a pointless question, El."

~~Part 3~~

Alfons: "If Kate is depressed, it's because she no longer has a date with Liam."

Alfons: "Am I right?"

Kate: "You're wr....!"

I tried to deny it, but I thought it better if I played along so as not to make everyone feel uncomfortable.

Kate: "... it might be so. Liam has been there for me during times like this."

Alfons: "I see. If that's the case ---."

Alfons: "Would you like to go on a date with me? All you have to do is entrust yourself to me, and I guarantee you a good time."

Kate: "With you, Alfons? ... why all of a sudden?"

Alfons: "I already told you. Stolen pudding tastes the most delicious."

Alfons: "There is nothing more enjoyable than a love affair that has been snatched away from someone else."

(I had a feeling that might be it, but what an outrageous reason. And...)

Kate: "I don't belong to Liam ---."

Harrison: "Huh? Any idea what's happened to my pudding?"

(Was it Harrison's!?)

Alfons: "Indeed, it's already been gobbled up and should be in Roger's stomach by now."

Harrison: "Seriously, a lie? Have you forgotten that my curse allows me to see through lies?

Alfons: "Oh? Then it must have been El's blunder?"

Elbert: ".....?"

Alfons: "Now then, shall we flee from those scoundrels, dear Kate?"

Kate: "Eh? Wait a moment, Alfons!?"

Harrison: "...hey!"

~~~

Alfons led me to a strange place.

Kate: "T-this is..."

~~Part 4~~

Kate: "T-this is..."

Alfons: "Your tonight's plan was to go to a travelling fair with Liam, yes? This seems like a perfect amusement park to me, don't you agree?"

Alfons: "Dense trees, gloomy air, that feeling of tension that might find release at any moment... The haunted house!"

During the time we lived together, I managed to learn a little about Alfons.

He was insolent and dishonest --- a nightmare of a man.

(Probably... no, certainly)

Kate: "This is not a date or anything like that. It's just a mission, isn't it?"

Alfons: "Heh, please be so kind and stop pouting. I was the only one available for this mission, and it felt so unbearably lonely."

Kate: ".... it's pretty obvious you just wanted someone to toy with."

Alfons: "My my, so you're aware of being a toy? As expected from the Crown's very own talented Robin. Excellent, excellent."

(Ugh... for every thing I say, he comes back with a hundred retorts)

Still, since I had been brought here, I had to fulfil my duties as a fairytale writer.

Besides, I really didn't want to go home alone from such a depressing place... yes, that was most certainly the reason I decided to stay.

Kate: "... Fine, I'll go with you. So, what's this mission about?"

I was curious what kind of incident had brought us to this desolate ruin before us.

Alfons: "Theft of valuables and murder. The so-called robbery-murder is rampart in this area."

Alfons: "There are rumours that the perpetrators have broken into the house and are using it as their base."

Kate: "I see... It's true that no one is likely to come here."

Alfons: "First of all, let's check if there are any stolen goods inside."

~~Part 5~~

Kate: "...what if we encounter the culprits while searching?"

Alfons: "Then of course I'll protect you, but don't worry, it will be nothing like last night."

(When Alfons says it, it instantly smells fishy)

But I also felt relieved at his words, which in turn made me a little frustrated with myself.

Alfons: "Onwards. Let's explore this ruin and hopefully have such a stimulating experience that will leave our daily struggles in the dust."

Alfons: "Oops, I got ahead of myself. I was in the process of courting you while Liam was away, wasn't I?"

Alfons: "Kate, would you like to hold hands? Lovers' hold or folded arms, choose any way you like."

With a smooth, uninhibited movement, Alfons took my hand in his.

Alfons: "Oh, your hand is cold. Are you afraid?"

My cheeks flushed involuntarily as he smiled and held my hand in a teasing manner.

Kate: "I'm not scared and we don't need to hold hands. Let's go, Alfons."

Alfons: ".... You really like to play tough, don't you?"

Kate: "...eh?"

Alfons: "Am I wrong?"

---I was going to eat my words just a moment later.

~~~

(Oof...!)

The interior was dim, the paintings on the walls were tilted, and the ornaments were covered with a thick layer of dust.

(I want to find the stolen goods and get out of here as soon as possible!)

Alfons: "Boo!"

Kate: "Wahhh...!"

Alfons: "Haha, your voice just now!"

Kate: "It's not funny. I thought my heart was going to burst..."

Alfons: "In the unlikely event this happens, I'll resuscitate you, so don't worry."

Alfons: "What method would you prefer? Passionate mouth-to-mouth or..."

Normally, I would have said something back, but I was in no position to do so right now.

(It's frustrating to show my weakness like that)

Kate: "Um..."

Alfons: "Yes..?"

Kate: "It doesn't have to be your hand... Can I hold the hem of your clothes?"

(I'm definitely going to be teased......)

Alfons: "Please, go ahead. Do as you wish."

Chapter 2

#omg I love him so much!!! 🤣❤️#ikemen villains #ikevil #alfons sylvatica #ikevil alfons #ikevil story event

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years

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Is it just me or is anyone else creeped out by Rollo being so nice to MC?? He goes out of his way to say nice things to us which is weird almost like he’s trying to get on our good side for some reason. He also suspiciously knows a lot about MC already. I’m thinking Rollo wants to use MC for something maybe related to Malleus. What are your thoughts on this?

I don’t know if I’d call it outright “creepy”, but I do feel mildly unsettled by it?? There’s also a few scenes where Rollo is implied to just be… staring at the NRC group (his portrait shows up on screen, but the dialogue box only reads as “. . . . .”), which I personally find a lot more disturbing. I just don’t like being watched 😭 I feel like it could all be foreshadowing something!! (… though it’s also possible that I’m totally overthinking this 💦)

For context, Rollo greets the NRC students when they arrive on Noble Bell College’s campus. He speaks politely, but the NRC boys remark that he looks angry. (Note: Rollo’s character portrait is not actually glaring most of the tome; the NRC boys are likely referring to him as having a resting bitch face 😂)

While showing the guests around campus, Rollo reveals that he knows who everyone is, as he read the materials provided to him by Crowley. Rollo lists off their full names, as well as relevant positions and titles—but when he noticed Yuu and Grim, he notably becomes a little chattier and even… friendly? (Like, he even smiles a little bit.) “It must trouble you (someone who cannot use magic) to be surrounded by magic users everyday,” Rollo says. He lifts his arms and invites Yuu to relax, then adds (with the scene shifting to include Malleus), “… and that goes for the rest of you as well.”

***CONTENT WARNING: I will be briefly discussing a theory which involves racism and war below the cut, so please read at your own discretion.***

If these lines have any meaning in the grand scheme of things 🤔 I think (well, considering Rollo’s Disney inspiration) that this could play into any potential prejudices that he holds? A lot of fans are already speculating that Rollo holds anti-fae sentiments, and, from a certain angle, one could argue that his off-handed remark to Yuu supports that theory.

Think about the wording and the history of Noble Bell College. What the students at NBC value above all else is maintaining fairness and righteousness, just as its founder, the “Just/Righteous Judge”, did. Then, consider that Rollo seems to express sympathy for a non-magical human stuck at a school of mages in training. And then add the fact that fairies are implied to be more magically inclined than the other races; only a mere 10% of humans can use magic (and at the most basic level), whereas fairies have magic so plentiful that they utilize it for everyday activities like flying to their destinations.

With all of that in mind, it’s possible that Rollo’s line of thinking is this: “if this world were truly just, then magic users and non-magic users would be equal”. However, because fairies are a race that are more magically inclined than, say, humans, this causes an imbalance. Perhaps Rollo thinks that this disparity is not “just” as the Just Judge would want the world to be, and goes about administering his own judgment to “right the wrong”. Maybe Rollo himself isn’t a strong magic user (we’ve only seen other characters so far assume he must be powerful due to his position as student council president) and must rely on tricks or magical items to get ahead, which amplifies his hatred for those born lucky or gifted. (Alternatively, maybe Rollo is a powerful mage, but just cannot compete with Malleus’s natural abilities, which causes jealousy to brew??) And maybe he despises Malleus in particular because he’s the very public embodiment of all that Rollo sees as “unfair” in the world?? (Malleus has political influence, money, magical powers beyond belief, etc.) Maybe this all ties back to the aftermath of the human-fairy war that is sometimes mentioned???

It’s very… twisted logic, but sometimes it’s the worst of people who think they’re the best of people. They so deeply believe they are in the right and try to go out and act on those beliefs 😔 If this does end up happening, I think that would actually make Rollo one of the most disturbing antagonists we’ve seen so far in TWST—because that arrogant way of thinking perpetuates a lot of hatred in the real world too.

… Buuut of course, that’s just a theory 😅 A gaaaaame theory

I think the other popular theory floating around right now is that Rollo actually admires Malleus and wants to be his friend...? But his behavior comes off the wrong way because of Rollo’s face naturally looking like he’s always scowling or unhappy. That’s a more light-hearted take, I guess!

#notes from the writing raven #Rollo Flamme #Malleus Draconia #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #twisted wonderland theory #question #Yuu #spoilers #Grim #Dire Crowley #tw // racism #tw // war #Rollo Flamm

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luckykittysshowerthoughts · 7 months

Note

ngl ur last post abt mike and sol kinda makes me ship them

I wouldn't say I ship them, but I think they have the potential for a very interesting dynamic that I'm looking forward to being expanded upon in later chapters. I suppose this is as good a chance as any to summarize what I've gleaned from both games so far- I think y'all know by now just how much I like talking about Mikey.

Fair warning, there will be spoilers up ahead, for both the third season of the OG game and the first season of Nightbringer. I'll remain as vague as I can while still getting the point across, but they're rather large spoilers.

Solomon and Michael's Relationship

(The Impromptu Essay)

In Nightbringer, it seems like Michael has a similar relationship to Solomon that Nightbringer does- in terms of being a high-status being much more powerful than Solomon himself, who grants Solomon certain favors and protections and watching over him in a way.

For one, he gave Solomon the Ring of Wisdom, which as essentially the twin to the Ring of Light is likely very important to Michael. A few lines of dialogue in the OG game also imply that Michael cleaning up after Solomon's messes is a rather regular occurrence.

Speaking of those lines of dialogue... I think one of the most telling scenes about their relationship was the brief, one-sided conversation Michael had with MC in the OG game, after fixing a little (big) magic fiasco related to Solomon's cooking. Now, disclaimer, this scene is technically ambiguous, but "???" on a blinding light background seems pretty safe to assume as Michael considering the other times we've had this.

"He's a truly decent human with a good head on his shoulders, but sometimes he can be more troublesome than the demons."

The first thing Michael (or, who we can assume to be Michael) says here is essentially defending Solomon's character. This is clearly someone he knows personally, and to some degree trusts if he's willing to give him benefit of the doubt like this. That said, he's clearly exasperated. A real "god damnit, Solomon" moment.

"He acts as though he understands his own power, but he doesn't. Which is why his strange fascination with cooking of all things causes me no end of..."

This is the line I was talking about, that implied that Michael cleaning up after Solomon is a semi-regular occurrence. It definitely seems like this isn't the first time Michael has dealt with something like this from Solomon. And if it's affecting him personally like this, it's clearly something he feels some level of responsibility over.

Solomon and his antics clearly aren't insignificant to him. And from the looks of things, they haven't been for a long time- just a little while prior to this scene, a pre-fall Lucifer states that Michael has taken an interest in "a human sorcerer", implying this dynamic between the two of them started before Lucifer fell.

All in all... Solomon is someone that Michael on some level respects and trusts, but also a royal pain in the ass to look after. Which was the basis of that original post.

Now, with the groundwork of their canon relationship and the cold hard evidence out of the way, this is where I'm going to start getting into speculative (and semicoherent rambling) territory.

I think Michael and Solomon create an interesting mix of personalities. While Michael appears to be "the responsible one" of the relationship, he's constantly cleaning up after Solomon after all, I wouldn't exactly say he's a responsible person in his own right. At the end of the first season of Nightbringer, we see he has a tendency to deflect any conversation he doesn't like and literally run away from his problems. We also see throughout Nightbringer that Michael likes playing some major mind games to get what he wants, often with clear disregard for other people. He seems to be most comfortable playing 4d chess with people from a distance to avoid having to confront his feelings directly. He's manipulative and mischievous in order to cover up deep-seated feelings of loneliness- something Solomon can very much relate to.

I feel like Solomon would be one of the few who has the patience for Michael's mind games. Solomon isn't above these kinds of games himself, after all- it takes one to know one. Puzzles are something that fascinate Solomon, and let's face it he needs the intellectual stimulation. He's just as bored and lonely as Michael is. Enough that he just might toy with him right back.

Solomon is also quick-witted and observant enough to be able to tell when Michael is trying to deflect things or pull a fast one, and call him out on it- which, honestly, might be for Michael's own good at this point. Somebody needs to tell this man no, and somehow I don't think any of the angels underneath him are going to do it. Speaking of which...

Solomon also seems to have a unique take on authority when compared to basically any other character. While most characters- angels especially, including former angels like Lucifer- view things very hierarchically, Solomon doesn't seem to see things this way. He has no problem sassing Nightbringer and calling him out on things, despite Nightbringer having a clear position of power over him and it essentially being biting the hand that feeds you. Solomon could very well be the one person with the nerve to treat Michael as an equal. Which creates a very interesting dynamic.

All in all, I'm very excited to see where Solomon and Michael's relationship goes. I mean, I'm excited to see more of Michael at all, but I think these two especially are a real point of interest.

#obey me solomon #obey me michael #obey me nightbringer #obey me analysis #om spoilers

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i4sgwr · 2 years

Text

EREN + MUTUAL PINNING

ꕤ summary: Eren overhears your conversation with Armin and takes it upon himself to clear the air about your shared feelings.

ꕤ warnings: gn!reader, college au, fluff, mutual pinning that leads to confession, Armin is your bestie so he’s here for a lot of this, very dialogue heavy (like a lot- i’m sorry)

ꕤ word count: 0.8k (oops)

. . . requested by anon!

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

“Are you ever gonna tell him?” Armin asks, placing his book back in his bag then zipping it up.

You sigh, “I’d rather not make a fool of myself, so no,” standing up and walking towards the door.

Armin hurriedly follows, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and leaving the lecture room to walk with you.

“I can guarantee he likes you, y/n, just tell him how you feel,” Armin insists.

Your face heats up at the thought of Eren having a crush on you. Honestly, the thought was incomprehensible to you — there was no way someone like him would have anything more than platonic feelings for you. Then again, Armin was friends with you both, and very rarely did his intuition steer him in the wrong direction.

“I don’t know ‘Min,” you say as the two of you leisurely walk through the courtyard, “He barely talks to me. I don’t wanna scare him off by throwing my feelings onto him.”

The blonde laughs, “Scare him off? I’m surprised he hasn’t scared you.”

You give him a perplexed look, yet wear a small grin, “Why would he scare me?”

“Because he’s intimidating! Eren looks like he’d bite if you pissed him off,” Armin exclaims, chuckling afterwards.

You laugh, shaking your head, “I think he’s hot.”

You can’t help the way your face burns as you admit that, though it’s not like Armin didn’t already know. Armin was more than aware of how you felt about his friend, that being the reason he was always talking to you about it. He was playing the middle man without either of you knowing.

“I bet he thinks the same about you,” Armin suddenly says, looking at you with a devious smirk.

“Shut up,” you murmur, “Even if he does it’s not like I’d ever know.”

“Only if you ask him,” he exclaims, nonchalantly tilting his chin in the direction of the person you hadn’t realized was walking towards you; Eren Jaeger — what a coincidence.

“Ask me what?” Eren questions, stopping in his tracks as the two of you get closer.

He stands with his hands in his pockets, very clearly keeping his eyes on you. You feel your heartbeat quicken, suddenly nervous by his presence.

“Ah, I have to get to class actually. I’ll see you later Eren,” Armin says, giving your back a gentle pat.

You roll your eyes, knowing he didn’t have class for another 20 minutes and merely left you alone on purpose. Eren takes a few steps closer as Armin walks away, only heightening your jitteriness.

“He said I think the same as you,” Eren states, “What did he mean by that?”

“I-I didn’t think you were listening,” you chuckle sheepishly, “Um, it was nothing.”

“You sure?” he cocks an eyebrow, “You look nervous.”

You turn your head from him, chewing your lip.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he mutters, in a lower tone than before, “And I do think the same as you, by the way.”

Your stomach drops at the realization he had heard nearly your entire conversation. Embarrassed, you hesitantly make eye contact, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burn.

“H-how much did you hear?” you stutter.

“Just the last bit,” he smirks, “To be fair, I’m surprised you didn’t see me coming sooner.”

You try to replay your conversation with Armin in your head, trying to figure out how you didn’t see Eren walking towards you until it was too late. It didn’t really matter, but having him hear you compliment him unbeknownst to you made you feel sick from the humiliation.

“Armin said to meet him in the courtyard, though I didn’t think it was a ploy to get me to talk to you,” he chuckles, “Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

You swear you feel faint, not knowing how to handle the situation. It’s not like you two were total strangers, you’ve talked before. However, you’ve only ever interacted in the presence of your shared friends, never have you spoken to him alone. And now he was standing here telling you you were cute.

You hum to let him know you heard him but remain silent, waiting for him to say whatever it was “he’s been wanting to talk to you” about.

“I just wanted to ask you out,” he states, “Unless you’re not into me the way I assumed you were.”

“I-I love to!” you exclaim excitedly, quickly regaining your composure.

“Perfect," he smiles, "I gotta go, but I’ll text you alright?”

Eren winks, quickly walking past you in hopes that you don’t notice the blush on his cheeks. You stand there unsure of what to do with yourself. He never even said he liked you, though there was no doubting it now since he asked you out on a date.

taglist! [ @snake-titan @discordkittenjoestar @erwnsmith @bunnyyamor @ofallthingswhythis ]

#[📩] requests #[ drabbles ]#attack on titan #aot #eren jaeger #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader

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ryuzakemo128 · 2 months

Text

Vikings Writing Prompts

Trigger Warning:

Mention of Death, fighting, miscarriages, suicide.

If anything mentioned above triggers you. Please remove yourself and continue with your day. Your mental health is just as important as your physical health. Vice versa, as the mind can affect the body in equal measure.

Prompts for either imagines, headcanons, one-shots, anything you possibly desire. As long as it is clearly stated as to what character you want it written for. Otherwise I will not be able to satisfy the particular itch you might or might not want itched and scratched.

Characters from the Vikings Show that I am willing to write for as follows:

Male Characters

Rollo Lothbrok

Ívar Ragnarsson

Björn Ragnarsson

Ubbe Ragnarsson

Athelstan

Hálfdanr Hálfdansson

Haraldr Hálfdansson

Female Characters:

Lagertha Lothbrok

Aslaug Sigurdsdottir

Personal Note: I would also preface that I will not write things that trigger me. Things like Cheating and Affairs. At least not in incredible detail as it will harm and hurt my mental health in the long run. And if you respect my mental health, you will respect my personal boundaries as well.

If you would like to peruse my previous works in the past feel free to do so. I will not prevent nor shame those who would want to read them.

Here is a link to two masterlists that contain them.

Masterlist 01 / Masterlist 02

Prompts

Listed below are prompts to choose from if you want to make a specific request for a specific character. First list being SFW and the second one being NSFW underneath the cut.

SFW - Dialogue Prompts

"Whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same. As much you might dispute that fact."

"You could just tell me things instead of insinuating them. Communication is important."

"Let me eat my feelings in peace and quiet. Otherwise we are going to have many, many, many problems."

"I know I can't go I'm the one getting nearly all the time."

"I don't trust anyone who would place value of one child above another. Regardless of what someone else may or may not have said."

"For a mother you play favourites quite a bit."

"Depends on what you consider to be fair."

"Aim better! Stop trying to hit me and hit me!"

"You are not my problem. You are theirs. I plan to keep it that way. So neither begging nor pleading to me will not work."

Canon Character x OC/ Reader - Dialogue Prompts

"I am well enough to fight. I am well enough to move around do things myself. Do not coddle me as I were a child and I will not do the same to you."

"I was in exile, I did not abandon anybody, least of all my brother."

"I don't ask for your understanding, I don't ask for your trust either and quite frankly I do not want either one from you."

NSFW - Dialogue Prompts

[TBD]

Vikings Headcanons - Link

Food for the heart and soul - Halfdan the Black x Female Reader - Link

Tarnished and Unveiled Intentions - Bjorn Ironside x reader - Link

Life After Death - Bjorn Ironside x female reader - Link

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sansxfuckyou · 8 months

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Beat

Summary: Kenny play drums, Kyle's in drama, has a love story ever been laid out so easily before?

Warnings: Swearing

Authors Note: entering my dialogue era while I recover from the whiplash of finishing a 10K project. so yeah, enjoy some bullshit band kid kenny and drama kid kyle, no promises on quality because tired. the K2 is already like, established, in this one. hope ya'll enjoy

Kenny McCormick, older brother of one, and in his second year of high school. He's been thinking of dropping out, but there isn't exactly anywhere else that he can get his hands on a drum kit. They are much, much pricier than he initially expected them to be.

And he has friends here too, he doesn't really wanna just, ditch 'em. He'd be ditching them to pursue dreams of a garage band and working at a gas station anyways. Both of which are decent options, but not exactly ideal.

Still, he bides his time. Shattering drum sticks and near puncturing the instruments. Playing until his joints ache and until he gets blisters and callouses from it. It's a grand old time if nothing else, just for fun. For the euphoria of such a destructive instrument, the only one built for taking out his anger on.

"Kenny!"

He keeps playing, arms crossed over briefly and foot pressing on the kick pedal in perfect time. He looks up from his kit to find Kyle at the door to the band room, the few stairs down give him even more height on him. An arm rests on the railing as he walks down, he takes a seat on the floor a considerable distance from Kenny.

"Shouldn't you be practicing your role?!"

Kyle holds a hand to his ear. Kenny stops playing, pressing a hand to the cymbals to quiet them. He gently places your sticks on top of the snare drum and it rattles.

"Shouldn't you be up at the drama room, Ky?" Kenny asked, leaning over the upper drums of his kit.

Kyle scoffed, "Unlike the rest of those plebeians I've mastered all of my lines, expressions, and body language."

"Nice, you're way too fucking good at that shit. You should have an Emmy award on your wall," Kenny said, he gave a brief spin on his stool. He tapped along the cymbals as he rotated.

"I mean, I'm okay at it," Kyle said as he stood up and walked over to the spread of instruments. There was stray cases everywhere, someone left their flute on the piano. The redhead sat on the bench and pressed down on a key, "But we need some music."

"Music?" There was a bit too much excitement on his voice.

Kyle nodded, "Mostly a drum roll, but it would kill to have actual percussion offstage."

He's pretty sure he's grinning. He's definitely grinning.

"So," Kyle begins with, a devious smirk on his face, "Want in?"

"Fuck yeah! I'll totally do a drum roll for your play! Dude, it'd be a fucking honor," Kenny answered with an ecstatic nod, tapping the tip of his toe to the kick drum. It's bad for the instrument, he doesn't care.

"We already got a snare somewhere in the drama room, just bring your sticks," Kyle said as he stood up and took a couple steps closer to Kenny's kit, "Clubs after school, three fifteen to five."

He leaned over the crash cymbal, "I know, I pick you up on club days, remember idiot?" Kyle leans over and presses a kiss to Kenny's cheek.

"I remember, just making sure you knew it was today man. We don't usually do club on Wednesday nitwit," Kyle answered with smugly, he brought a hand to flick at the blondes forehead.

Kenny gives a hum, "I'll be there, and I'll make sure to wash all of the frog guts off."

"Aw man, you look hot covered in blood," Kyle teased.

"How much blood can there be in a dead frog?" Kenny asked as he gingerly pressed on the hi-hat pedal. It clattered depressingly.

"Good point," Kyle said, "Love you bro."

"We're literally dating," Kenny said.

"You call me dude, I call you bro," Kyle said, he brought a hand to his chest and blew the intensity of his words out of proportion. He was smirking, "Only fair."

"And you wonder why people think we're just friends," Kenny said.

"I'm literally in drama, Ken, I'm pretty sure they've figured out I'm a rampant homo. Although, I can see why they wouldn't be able to tell you are," Kyle said, he vaguely gestured to Kenny as he spoke.

Kenny glanced down to his outfit, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon man, you know exactly what I mean. You need some flair, dye your hair, go goth- you've been wearing all orange since we were little kids," Kyle said, "I think I have some red leftover from last years play."

"Where you had to bleach your hair?" Kenny asked.

"Where I had to bleach my hair," Kyle echoed back, "You'd look good with a bit of dyed hair."

"I dunno dude, I think the subtle homosexual look is good on me. If another queer looked at me they'd know I'd be down to clown, and that's what it's all about," Kenny explained as he stood up and brushed down his jacket. He looked down at his outfit, "But you are the drama kid, you may be onto something."

"Exactly- really Ken, some eyeliner would fix you," Kyle said, "Helps draw attention to the face, it's why we always wear so much of it on stage. I think you'd look good with some iridescent black." He brought his hands to rest on Kenny's face, tracing over the shapes and contours of flesh.

"Dude! At least wait until we're out of school, or, in the drama room," Kenny said, batting away Kyle's hands and beating down the flush rising to his face.

"Good point, I got English, see ya in an hour or so," Kyle said before turning to take his leave.

Kenny loitered for a bit longer, science class was on the same floor, "See ya in an hour!"

#south park #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #south park k2 #sp k2 #drama kid kyle broflovski #band kid kenny mccormick #< i'll probably come back to this next time I get whiplash #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #south park fanfiction

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whysamwhy123 · 5 months

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✨Fic Writing Review 2023✨

Tagged by the wonderful dynamic duo that is @aerodaltonimperial and @perhapswhoknowsvamp and it's very fitting that those two lovely people tagged me because they're a big reason why I wrote much of anything this year! Took me a while to get this done because I wanted to get my last fic of the year out the door first. I'll put the rest below the cut, and fair warning - it's loooooong. This bitch doesn't shut up, so I rambled on. A lot.

Words and Fics

76, 222 words published on AO3 in 2023

15 fics published on AO3 (16 if you count that one kinkmeme prompt I filled and posted anonymously)

2 little tumblr ficlets

Top 3 by Kudos

Voice in the Dark - Hookhausen (not super surprising, considering it was a popular pairing at the time, and it was the fic I wrote for the anniversary event)

Kids These Days And Their Darn Phones - Hookhausen

Half Your Age Plus Seven - OrangeHook (I continue to be incredibly surprised how well this fic did, like...huh?!)

Top 3 by Hits

Voice in the Dark - Hookhausen

Voice in the Dark, Part Two - Hookhausen (how fitting, LOL)

Half Your Age Plus Seven - OrangeHook (Seriously, what was it about this fic that drew people in? More so than any of my other OrangeHook fics? Like, I'm grateful and all but also confused, like this fic is way too long?! And weird about the age difference?!)

Author's Favourite

As much as I'm loving writing OrangeHook now, I think Voice in the Dark, Part Two is probably the best thing I've written? Even though it's also overly long and gets weird at the end (very much did not expect it to go in that direction when I started writing it), I'm actually pretty proud of how that one turned out. I had a clear vision in my head for how each scene would play out and what I wanted to get across, and man, I remember how most of the Hook/Evilhausen dialogue popped into my brain late one night when I couldn't sleep, so I spat it out into a doc and then about a month later when I actually wrote the scene, I don't think I changed a single word? I just added everything else around it, all the not-dialogue parts. And it was just a lot of fun getting to carry on that story, especially as someone who hasn't managed to crank out a proper multi-chapter fic yet. Who knows, maybe I'll return to that world someday...

Fandom Events in 2023

Uh, well, I guess I did the whole Hookhausen Anniversary thing? And...that's about it. I'm pretty disconnected from the fandom at large, whoopsie daisy 😬

Upcoming Projects

Hoo boy.

I have over 5k words of a Ricky/Christian Sugar Baby AU thing written already. I haven't posted it because it kinda needs some smut and that's still not something I can really do. I might post it someday, if I can make something work, or alternatively do what I normally do and put an annoying fade to black in there. Or maybe I'll think better of it and never post it because it's very self-indulgent and I highly doubt anyone else would really be interested or want me to continue it or anything. But I have Ideas for it...so many ideas...

Also, in my ill-fated quest to try and make myself write smut, I kinda started a Ricky/Bill championship celebration fic. Maybe I'll revisit that? Try to get it done?

And then there's that one fic I really want to work on, but have barely started. I've vague-posted about it here before - it's an incredibly fucked-up Dead Dove fic about Daniel Garcia and a Very Bad, Not-Good thing that happens to him, and the subsequent complete mental breakdown that follows. I've had the idea rattling around in my brain for the better part of a year at this point, despite not making much actual progress on it. Every time I think about it though, I have new ideas for scenes or dialogue. I'd like to make it work, but I don't know if I have the writing chops to handle it, plus it would probably end up being super long and nobody would want to read it, so it'd feel like a huge waste of time on my part? And I've had the idea for so long, it's out-dated too. But still, the urge remains...

Oh, and I still have a ton of OrangeHook ideas I'd like to make happen. Some are, of course, about their age difference. Some would (ideally) involve smut. And others... *nervous laughter* Others would likely result in an ''Everyone disliked that'' situation...

Writing Reflection

I was thinking about making a sappy post about this and whoops, here's my excuse! I don't talk a lot on here about my tragic backstory because honestly, who cares? But I will say this - before January of this year, I hadn't written a word of anything in years. Fic or otherwise. I used to love writing, but Stuff Happened and it killed all enjoyment I got out of it, and I thought that's how it would be forever. Then, for reasons I can't even remember, I started reading fic again, specifically in this wild little fandom of ours, and y'all are just so talented that it made my untalented ass want to give it another shot. So...I did.

I remember when I posted my first fic in ages back in January, I thought ''Maybe about three people will read this and no one will leave a comment or anything, but whatever, I wrote a thing and that's something I haven't done in years so that's enough for me!'' And to be honest, I still think that whenever I post stuff now? It's crazy to me that anyone actually reads my stuff and gets some kind of kick out of it. But every kudos and comment floors me and brings me so much joy, I can't even express it properly. I have to say a huge thank you to anyone who's ever read one of my fics, left kudos or dropped a comment. Whoever and wherever you are, you made my day!

And look, I ain't delusional. I know that calling myself a small fish in the fandom would be too generous. But I'm fine with that - because I'm genuinely enjoying writing again and that's what matters most to me. Even though I've also rediscovered how stressful writing can be (🙂🙂🙂) when it comes down to it, there's joy and happiness in my life that wasn't there last year and that's all because I started writing again. And because some lovely folks here decided to let me know they liked what I was throwing out there. The years have not been kind to ol' Sammy Sam-Sam and this year was no exception, but getting to forget about all that shit and write my silly little wrestling fanfiction has been a great distraction and a comfort through this whole year.

So...yeah. Thanks to everyone who's ever commented on my writing, thanks to the folks who follow me on here (I don't know how you manage that though, I'm such an annoying bitch, aren't you sick of me yet?) and thanks to anyone who I've had the chance to chat with about writing and ships and whatever silly little ideas pop into my head (any of y'all feel free to message me at any time, I am always down to blab about whatever blorbos/ideas take your fancy). I'm hoping I can keep this train a-rollin' a little more next year. Still thinking back to when I started writing again, I made my new AO3 account expecting to write Dustjim only, but then I quickly decided I couldn't write those two well enough, and since then I've bounced around a bunch of different pairings, with a few rarepairs shoved in between for good measure. God only knows where my head will be at this time next year, LOL. I'd love to finally be able to attempt some of the bigger ideas I've been cooking up for a while now. Maybe I'll even write a proper multi-chapter fic? We'll see, but this bitch can dream, at least.

Rules:

Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please do eat glass, I’ve heard it’s good for your gums.

I'm not going to tag anyone because I'm pretty sure everyone I know who writes has already been tagged? So if you're reading this and you haven't, go ahead and do it! By which I mean, eat glass. Eat all the glass that you want. Accidents happen in the dark.

#What is wrong with you Sam you should not be allowed to write #Also you really need to learn to shut up dude #This bitch went onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn and on #But it was kinda fun reflecting on The Year I Got Back Into Writing #It's been fun yo #Who knows what this next year will bring??

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