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kiruuuuu · 1 year

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Kiru's Advent Calendar, Day 18💔

More of the Smoke/Mute uni AU! We're getting close to a point where the two of them actually talk to each other - I wasn't kidding about the slow burn 😁 (Rating G/T, slice of life/fluff, ~1.7k words)

James spots him mid-sentence. It’s likely not the most appropriate choice to interrupt himself just to yell a cheerful ‘hi Mark!’ across the public space yet instead of sparking irritation, Morowa merely chuckles in amusement. The ground is still wet from a downpour earlier, street lights and the bright pub sign reflecting on the glistening asphalt, refracting into glittering spots awarding the night a more glamorous flair than it deserves. Up until recently, his day could’ve gone better, his sleeping place not yet secured as Seamus is out of town and James is too proud to ask anybody else, plus the presentation due for tomorrow isn’t even half done.

He can wing it, but his contribution to the seminar so far has been shaky enough that he’d prefer to earn a good mark on it.

But Jordan invited him to their little hangout and there’s no refusing where Jordan is concerned, that man knows how to have a good time – so James tagged along and tried his best to enjoy himself, downing a few pints during this endeavour, and then he ran across Morowa. Finally. The woman can be more elusive than the Yeti if she’s busy, and no doubt she’s been keeping her schedule full following their break-up.

“- I guess what I ultimately want to say”, James continues after Mark has acknowledged his presence with a nod from a distance away, “is that I’m fine. And I’d still like to live with you.”

His ex-girlfriend’s smile is blinding, reminding him of why he developed a crush on her in the first place. She takes his hand, squeezes it, deems it as not enough and pulls him into a tight embrace: physical contact is important to her, be it with friends, family or her lovers, and it’s reassuring to witness there’s no hesitation in her affectionate gestures towards him. “I’m so glad to hear that”, she replies, voice laden with emotion. “It might sound odd, but I missed you this last week. Still… are you sure?”

Her question is warranted and he’s fully aware of the implications: she’s always expressed her desire for a more active, more varied love life, in dating other people. And though her admittance that she didn’t even kiss anybody else while the two of them were together filled him with gratitude, guilt overshadowed his relief. Because she’s been nothing but open and communicative with him, from the start, whereas he selfishly assumed it’d somehow work out regardless. So now, what he has to decide is whether he accepts her moving on and possibly bringing other people home while the two of them remain friends and roommates.

After some more deliberation which is just for show, really, he’s spent the last seven days pouring over this exact dilemma, he nods with confidence. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“Then you best take your key back.” And another problem solved.

They spend a few more minutes detailing the specifics, exchanging heartfelt messages of support and being generally sappy until he notices the other woman waiting a few feet away, shifting from foot to foot. “Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you. You off to somewhere?”

Morowa confirms and introduces her friend as Emmanuelle. “We’re helping someone else move out. Difficult situation.”

“If anyone needs a slogging, call me.”

“Will do.” A last grin, a last hug, and off they trot.

James imagined the conversation to go worse somehow, to involve more emotional suffering, yet both of them saw the end coming from miles away. It hurts less than he expected. Doesn’t make the void in his chest feel any better, though. To take his mind off it all, he saunters over to the only two other people in the street, one of them a tall, reasonably buff bloke with a pretty face and wild hair and the other one a bubbly fountain of neverending commentary. He’s never seen them together yet it’s obvious the shorter lad is a close acquaintance of Mark’s.

“- no more panel discussions, please. If you ever go see improv again, I’m with you all the way, but if I have to listen to another hour of pseudoscientific shite from old, white men, I’ll throw up in my mouth”, he chatters away as James joins them. “Hi! I’m Julien. Honestly, I don’t know who sets up those talks but they really need to -”

It takes another minute until James can introduce himself, sparking recognition in the young man’s face. “Aren’t you the dude who set the lab on fire two years ago?”

He smirks, offers a casual shrug. “Maybe.”

“You’re a fucking legend! I think the profs still use you as a bad example.”

Mark opens his mouth for the first time since James caught sight of him tonight: “Don’t you need to leave?”

“Ah fuck.” Julien checks his phone, frantically types out a reply while almost vibrating in place with suppressed energy, then gives a little wave. “Gotta run, bye James. Bye babes, don’t stay out too long!” He stretches to place a kiss on Mark’s cheek despite the lad trying to lean away from him, and hurries off in the same direction as Morowa earlier. James wonders whether it counts as stereotyping or something similar to assume that Julien and Emmanuelle know each other, them both obviously being French. Morowa would know what to call it.

Being left alone with Mark is always a little like being dropped into cold water, his presence starts out as suffocating, robbing James of any words he might know, of the ability to string them together to form a sentence. It’s not unpleasant yet he’s filled with the irrational urge to impress him, the pressure of which building until he either comes up with a topic to save himself or blurts out the first fully-formed sentence taking shape in his mind. Not that they’ve spent much time together, James simply has started making a point out of striking up a conversation with Mark whenever he sees him. Constant dripping wears the stone – he will befriend him, no matter what.

“Who’s he, then?”, he asks, motioning in the direction of the young Frenchman jogging along. Out of habit, he pulls out a cigarette, offers one to his companion who takes it with a nod before it’s lit up and welcomed by his lips.

“An idiot”, is the curt reply. There’s fondness in his voice and it suddenly clicks in James’ head.

While Julien gave him significant gay vibes, the kiss on the cheek could’ve been one-sided, something done between friends. But there’s the bracelet again, peeking out of Mark’s sleeve, three beads on it representing a very real flag James has encountered a few times before. It’s the toothpaste flag, as Morowa calls it, and either Mark is an overly specific supporter of just one group in the community – or he is, in fact, gay. And for some reason, this changes something about him in James’ mind, though he’s utterly unable to put it into words. He eyes him with a new kind of interest and tells himself it’s the same as if he recently found out one of his relatives was working in chemistry research – it’s a common ground of some sort. He’s now more determined than ever to get to know more about him.

“What?”, says Mark and James realises he’s been staring at him.

“You’ve been working out”, he states. Apparently it’s a day where he cracks under pressure and loses all control over what comes out of his mouth. The nod he receives encourages him, so he adds: “I remember your goal was to look good. You’re almost there.”

A brow rises, a silent question. Mark’s cigarette lights up as he sucks on it, brightens his face and contours his cheekbones, the sharp jaw.

“Now you just gotta do something about your hair.”

Mark scoffs, features softening (which is almost the same as a smile) and he runs a hand through the bird’s nest on his head. It looks soft. James wonders whether he had one or two drinks too many. “You do chem, right?”

“Yeah. And you’re in engineering?”

Superfluous information: Mark apparently deems it as irrelevant and ignores his question outright. “Think you can settle a debate?”

Gosh, is this genius actually asking for his help? James curses himself for not crossing his path earlier in the library so he could show off there – he should ensure there are witnesses at all times. “Sure, about what?”, he offers easily, trying not to let his giddiness show, but it seems it’s not the prodigy himself who requires his expertise. Mark indicates the pub with his chin, prompting James to stub out his fag and follow him inside to the loudest corner in the whole room.

Jordan is there, of course, a few of his friends and others James has never seen before, and it becomes clear very quickly they’re arguing about explosions. And oh boy, they better strap in, because this, this is right up his alley. Mark grabs a chair and James slides onto the bench, waiting for the perfect moment to cut in. And when he does, when all eyes are suddenly on him, everyone soaking up his vast knowledge with greedy curiosity, the day is saved.

The longer he talks, the more he indulges various ‘what if’-scenarios, the more anecdotes he drops… the more alive he feels. Someone takes copious notes for her pen-and-paper campaign, someone else really explores the edges of what can be proven scientifically, someone else offers supplementary knowledge that complements James’ own. They end up devising explosives for a variety of use cases, ignoring the odd glance from the tables around them, and James drinks too much.

When some of them exchange numbers at the end of the evening, he discovers Mark has left them half an hour ago. And though he thoroughly enjoyed himself, is left buzzing and beaming, full of enthusiasm, having made several new friends, it still feels a little like he missed out on something.

He’s just not sure what it was.

#rainbow six siege #fanfic #kac #smoke/mute #smoke #mute #clash #she's honestly the mvp in all of this #rook is just a dog with too much energy whenever I write him and I love him that way

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dansnaturepictures · 1 year

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2nd January 2023: Blog 1 of 2-Woolston, Weston Shore, Titchfield Canal and home

We had a packed day today visiting a few places to look for birds, and saw lots more for the first time this year and some crackers. Firstly it was something we did on the bank holiday day at the start of last year too funnily enough, have a look at a building site at Woolston to unsuccessfully look for a Black Redstart that has been there. It was nice to see Starling, Feral Pigeon and a few Pied Wagtails here. I also enjoyed seeing pretty groundsel which the second picture in this photoset shows, spurge and some possible shepherd’s purse or mustard in the way of plants as well as some lovely leaves.

It was then onto nearby Weston Shore to see if we could see a Great Northern Diver there and we managed to, this shiny bird seen out to sea a jewel in the crown of my young year. We ticked Lesser Black-backed Gull here as well and saw a Common Gull on the sea. Also here it was entertaining to see a group of Mute Swans young and old at the car park enjoying the puddles I took the third picture in this photoset of three of the younger ones with grey feathers still, and the usual mob of Carrion Crows one shown in the fourth picture I took today in this photoset and Feral Pigeons were good to see with a feel good moment seeing hoards of pigeons on a feeding tray on someone’s car as well. Here we also saw; some of one of my favourite birds the Brent Goose and another the Little Egret, Cormorant, Oystercatchers nicely, a lovely bright Curlew and Black-headed Gulls. Some in flower gorse was good to see here too and I liked taking in beautiful coastal scenery with the welcome sun today painting the sea golden. I took the fifth picture in this photoset of a view here today.

The next location was the Titchfield Canal to try and see the Barn Owls and for a seventh year running we saw one and also part of another next to it in the split tree. This is an amazing and stunning bird to see and a key moment of my year what a pleasure to see this favourite bird of mine so soon into the year again. I took the seventh picture in this photoset of them. There were three more year ticks here, a neat Gadwall on the water, excellent views of a charming Kestrel so close by on wires and structures shining in strong light and exhilarating views of it flying I took the ninth picture in this photoset of it and an unexpected pair of Egyptian Geese in flight from by the car park. In a raptor fest here we saw a Buzzard well in a tree including picking up a stick. Other birds seen here were another Common Gull on the water what a start to the year I’ve had for them for a third year running; as well as Black-headed Gull, Wigeon, Canada Goose, Mallard, Coot, Cormorant seen really well again, Woodpigeon, Blue Tit and Great Tit with Robin heard.

Cleavers or possible hedge bedstraw leaves and teasel seed heads shining in the sunlight as well as nettle leaves were nice plant sightings here. The sun was powerfully out whilst here which created fantastic winter sunlight partnered well by soft clouds that I enjoyed seeing well across the locations today. There were beautiful views of the green and blue landscape with a fair bit of water around. I took the sixth, eighth and tenth with the sun at the back of trees pictures in this photoset of views here. We got talking to some lovely people here as we did at Woolston.

At home today I enjoyed a sunny morning with silver moisture on trees outside, grass in a plant pot on the balcony lit stunningly, distant mistletoe the first picture I took today in this photoset shows this, flowers, a lovely spider in the hallway, Woodpigeon kissed by the sun on the roof visible from my room and House Sparrow in the buddleia bush out the front looking good. On the way to Woolston I ticked Mute Swan seen from Cobden Bridge at Riverside Park with Black Swans seen too and on my old school and college field by home we saw our first Rook of the year I saw a few well later in the day from the car too. I enjoyed seeing a lovely moon at home tonight too.

Part 2 of today’s posts is here: https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/705367750898532354/2nd-january-2023-blog-2-of-2-warblington-and

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mrsrookhunt · 11 months

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Imagine if you ask the magic mirror again and it gives you a dorm this time. How the dorm leaders + the poor unfortunate souls underneath them react

Magic Mirror: This soul now has a place within this world. Your dorm is..

Heartslabyul

*happy sobbing from some, unhappy from others* *COUGH, riddle*

Savanaclaw

*unhappy sobbing in, will never be sleeping again*

Octavinelle

*unhappy sobbing, wiping away tears with money*

Scarabia

*JOYOUS SOBBING*

Pomefiore

*Vil is throwing up* *Rook is about to faint*

Ignihyde

*mute button is off* NO GOD PLEASE NO OH PLEASE GOD NO

Diasomnia

*INHUMAN SCREECHES OF JOY* CHILD OF MAN------ ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

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harunayuuka2060 · 5 months

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*In the NRC Groupchat*

Malleus: @Everyone

Malleus: @MC

*Everyone is online.*

Jade: Oya?

Kalim: Hello guys!

Jamil: Hello.

Riddle: What's going on, Malleus-senpai?

Azul: It seems we are here to witness something.

Everyone (except Malleus): ^

Sebek: @MC Waka-sama has separately mentioned you! Where are you?!

Ace: They'll be here in a moment. They need to finish Professor Trein's project. It's due today.

Deuce: Yeah.

Sebek: Hmph! Is that project more important than Waka-sama?!

Lilia: Sebek.

Ace: MC wanted to say that of course not, but they need to submit this because they don't want to be held back.

Riddle: I agree. Education is important.

Vil: Anyway...

Vil: Is there something you need to tell them, Malleus?

Malleus: Yes.

Malleus: I can start now.

Malleus: They can read this later.

Malleus: @MC

Malleus: In this vast universe

Malleus: Among the many stars

Malleus: In a single vast blue planet

Leona: I'm starting to feel the cringe.

Idia: Fr fr

Ortho: Brother...

Lilia: Can you not interrupt Malleus? :)

Cater: XD

Ruggie: Shishishi XD Leona is just bitter.

Leona: What did you say?

Ruggie: Wrong sent.

Vil: Malleus, you should continue.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: My small feelings of love would reach

Malleus: to that tiny island where you are

Ace: Damn

Ace: @MC He's criticizing the dorm you're in

Riddle: Off with your head, Ace!

Ace: Wh-What? I'm not doing anything!

Floyd: Crabby~

Ace: Okay! Okay! I'll shut up!

Deuce: Suits you well.

Ace: Shut up!

Malleus: Time had passed since I met you

Malleus: And the letters adorning our feelings are also increasing

Everyone: !!!

Kalim: OMG!!!! YOU TWO ARE DATING?!!

Lilia: *happy emoji*

Silver: Ah. That's why I've been seeing you writing letters every week.

Leona: I knew it. Cringe.

Rook: Non! That is such a sweet gesture!

Idia: Yeah. For you. Because you're a romantic.

Azul: This is interesting. Don't you think, @Jade ?

Jade: Yes. ^^

Floyd: But why though~?

Jamil: Maybe both of them are trying to keep it a secret.

Ace: It's not effective then.

Ace: Especially when MC gets a hickey after leaving Diasomnia.

Riddle: ACE!

Ace: What is it this time?!

Trey: Ace, I would appreciate it, really, if you would keep quiet for a while.

*Ortho muted Ace.*

Ruggie: Lol.

Ortho: Please continue, Malleus Draconia.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Someday, they will echo unnoticed in our hearts

Malleus: At times violently, at times sorrowfully

Malleus: They will echo faraway, into the far-off distance

Malleus: This tender song will change world

Malleus: Look now

Malleus: the person who you cherish

Malleus: Is right beside you

Leona: 😒

*Ortho muted Leona*

Lilia: Thank you, Ortho! ^^

Ortho: You're welcome! ^^

Malleus: I wish for this to reach just you

Malleus: Resonate, my song of love

MC: ...

MC: @Malleus stop

Malleus: ...

Everyone: ...

Malleus: Why?

Sebek: HUMAN! YOU'RE MAKING THE YOUNG MASTER CRY!

Silver: Sebek.

*MC has started a group video call.*

*Everyone has joined the group video call.*

*MC smiles at the camera*

MC: You beat me to it, Malleus.

MC: *continues the song Malleus shared in the chat*

Look now...

Resound, my song of love

You come to realise,

that even when the two of us should walk a dark road

The moon would illuminate our days

Never letting go of your hand I've clasped

Our feelings are strong

and we vow it's for all eternity

In the depths of eternity

I will surely say the exact same words

with my feelings still the same

But those words will never cease

they will turn into tears

Then to joy

Unable to speak

I'll just embrace you

Look now

the person who you cherish

Is right beside you

I wish

for this to reach just you

Resonate, my song of love

Look now...

Resound, my song of love

If it's a dream don't wake me up

the time I've spent with you

Shall become a star

shining eternally

Look now

The person who you cherish

is right beside you

I wish

for this to reach just you

Oh resound, my song of love

Look now

the person who you cherish

Is right beside you

I wish

for this to reach just you

Resonate, my song of love

Look now...

Look now!

MC: *catches their breath then laughs*

Malleus: ...

*Malleus hung up*

Everyone: Where did he go?

Malleus: *then appearing with MC* *throwing himself to them*

MC: Oof!

Malleus: I love you.

Lilia: *sniffles* I'm so glad I get to see this.

Sebek: Waka-sama... I'm so happy for you... *holding back his tears*

Silver: Please excuse me for interrupting, but you might want to end the call first.

Floyd: Eh~ But we want to watch~

MC: Haha, you wouldn't "like" to watch us, Floyd.

Malleus: *looks at the camera and reaches to end the video call*

*Back in the groupchat*

Ruggie: I bet you 30 madols, they're being lovey-dovey right now.

Idia: You didn't have to bet for something like that.

Ortho: They're kissing on the grounds of Ramshackle dorm.

Everyone: 😶

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst malleus #twst nrc #【Original PV 】Little love song/ MONGOL 800 (cover) by Amatsuki

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minimallyminnie · 11 months

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not sure about this one but who do you think would let me paint their nails and what color?

Paint the Nails with Color!

Not quite a fic!

ORTHO IS PLATONIC NO MATTER WHAT.

Cater

“Omg! You wanna do my nails?! Like /srs right??? Of course! Let me post the finished results on Magicam later!!!”

Would like colors that match together. Green and purple would be amazing for him!

Deuce

“Oh! You wanna paint…my nails? N-no! I don’t mind! I’m just surprised you want to do mine! Ok! Choose any color you’d like! I don’t mind!”

Would like red, blue, or black! But doesn’t mind any color!

Leona

“…Just don’t wake me up and I don’t give a damn about what you do to my nails. As long as I can still scratch too. Anyways, nothing too bright. That crap hurts my eyes.”

Black is your best color honestly but he won’t mind a darker color like maroon either

Floyd

“Ooh! Shrimpy wants to do my nails?! Of course! Can I choose the colors? Pretty please? Let me paint yours too!”

He likes any color tbh but he’ll adore bright yellow the most!

Jade

“Oh? You want to paint my nails? I suppose you can, as long as they don’t interfere with my work, I don’t mind at all.”

Jade would probably like magenta and cream to match with his mushrooms!

Kalim

“Ooh! You wanna paint my nails?! Of course you can! Want me to paint yours too? I don’t mind if you want me too! We can have a mini party together!”

He wouldn’t mind any color but would like orange and red with some gold in the mix!

Vil

“Hm you. Do my nails? Hmph, I guess I don’t mind. As long as you don’t mess up my carefully made shape or my cuticles, you can paint them. But at least let me choose my color so I don’t look like some barbarian with a crazy amount of color.”

Will absolutely choose his own colors, usually purple, gold, or black is his go to but if you can convince him to do others he can

Rook

“Oh mon! You’d like to do my nails my beau trickster? Why of course! I would love to!”

Doesn’t mind what color, but he would rather do more muted colors to hide his hands when he’s using his unique spell unknowingly against students. Or Vil’s colors

Ortho Shroud (does he have nails?)

“You wanna paint my nails? Let me search on how to do that…oh! You already know how to? Ok! You can paint my nails then! I don’t think it’ll mess up my coding or leak into any mech my body has so go ahead!”

Definitely a more fun color scheme liker but neon blue all the way!!!

Malleus

“Oh? Child of man, you want to paint my nails? Just a simple mundane thing…you surprise me every day with how fascinating you are…Why go ahead! I’d love to see. If you don’t mind, may I do it for you as well?”

Canonically, he has black nails but for you? I think he wouldn’t mind any color considering everytime he painted them it was black. A new color would be lovely!

Lilia

“Aw! You wanna paint my nails? I am so honored! Hmm…let me paint yours too! Have a little fun with the design!”

He would want bright, fun, colors! Definitely with designs of all sorts! Poisoned red apple with green poison? Sure! A red rose in a glass case? As long as it’s not that difficult! Super experimental in all!

Silver Vanrouge (I’ll die by this)

“Mmm…not too bright ok? I don’t mind if you paint my nails. I’ll…be asleep…wake me up when you’re done….”

A knight that would like to not be the spotlight, par of course he wants colors that aren’t bright. Surprisingly, pale pink or green is what he’d like most.

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tangyswriterstudio · 1 month

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Fireworks floyd x selectively mute reader fluff listen to this if you can a/n reader is a second year in diasomnia and not prefect

"Endoufugu-san!(pea puffer)" Floyds voice echoed throughout the hallways.

You didn't have time to react before you got squeezed by a large figure. You looked back and saw a pair of heterochromia eyes.

"New years coming soon! Will you come with me?!" He grabs your hands.

You think about it, then nod with a smile.

When you and Floyd started your 'friendship' it was really just him bugging you and trying to get you to talk.

It never worked though.

To Floyd you seemed like a guppy scared to see the pretty surface.

Soon new years rolled around and everyone was wearing pretty yukatas getting ready for the fireworks.

You could hear Riddle sternly telling the Adeuce duo to stay still.

You watched Ruggie taking free food samples and Azul next to him taking notes on the taste.

You saw Vil allowing Epel to get a candy apple just for this occasion and Rook complimenting his kindness.

Jamil seemed to be enjoying himself aswell as Sebek.

Suddenly someones hands covered your eyes.

"Guess who?" You take off his hands and turn towards the moray eel.

You look up at him before grabbing his hand and taking him to a small hill where it's more private.

"Eh? What are you doing endoufugu-san?" he asks confused but still intrigued.

You take a breath.

"I like you." suddenly fireworks erupted. You turned your attention towards the beautiful sky. The fireworks looking like they're touching the surface of the atmosphere.

"You can speak?! Wait you like me?! Awe!! Endoufugu-san!!!"

He grabs your cheeks before leaning in.

It was a brief touch. But it felt comforting.

"Don't be afraid to speak again! Ne?"

You smiled happily which turned to a quiet chuckle.

Hearing your voice was the best new years gift Floyd could've gotten.

breaking my hiatus early

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst wonderland #tangy!#x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #riddle rosehearts #ruggie bucchi #jamil viper #adeuce

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inkblot22 · 2 months

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What's Worse?

I finally finished this. This unpostable thing. It's done and even if it's bad, I do not care. In the end, it ended up being 4k words and I'm okay with this. Header by @/cafekitsune

Who is this fic for? I tried to keep this one very neutral despite the many references to body parts, so anyone who can handle it is free to read! Keep in mind that pronouns such as you and they are used to refer to the reader. The reader is human and does have hair.

TW for coercion, noncon, dubcon, allusions to a physically and emotionally abusive dynamic, captivity, everyone is at least a little bit untrustworthy in this, mentions of the smell of blood, beastman-specific oddities and anatomy, violent and morbid similes. Just in case, I'd like to say that this is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. A lot of the stuff is more so implied than explicitly stated, but it's still there.

The day he moved up a grade and began his “internship” is the same day he took you with him. Sure, Grim came along, but you’re often so busy, or he’s often so busy, either way. So you haven’t seen your familiar in months, and your life is filled with Leona.

You don’t know why he did this, but the first night you were there, he tapped your uvula with his fingers as he orally serviced you so feverishly that you left teeth indent bruises on his knuckles from biting down so hard as you tried not to be loud. He wore them like jewelry, and you know his brother saw them. Everyone at the table knew what happened, because, according to Leona, no matter how often you shower, the way you smell will always give you away.

That was a little over six months ago. As far as captivity goes, it’s rather cushy. You stay within the confines of the Afterglow Savannah’s palace. Sometimes Leona gets a bit aggressive and you take it, but you’re fed, clothed, and possibly pampered. It could be worse. It could be far worse. You could be in the dungeons.

You actually don’t know if this place has a dungeon, come to think of it. The last time you asked Leona, he asked you if there was an issue with the room you shared with him. When you tried to explain why you asked, he called you a “dumb herbivore” in a very fond tone of voice, then fell asleep. You didn’t try asking again.

It didn’t stop you from wandering. As it turns out, the Afterglow is mostly populated by beastmen… beastpeople? Aren’t all people beasts? Whatever, the point is, you’re basically the only person in the palace with muted senses. You often think back to Rook, wondering how he trained himself to use his senses so well. You tried to practice once, but Leona caught you hiding a ball and chucked the thing out the window, telling you to find something better to do with your “skills.” You sure used one of your senses, at least.

Unfortunately, these “muted” senses, despite them being completely sensible for your human state of being, have led to some issues. For instance, when someone approaches you, you don’t notice until they’re within your field of awareness. Beyond that, according to Leona, Farena, Cheka, and Farena’s wife, you also tend to just reek of blood.

You have no idea why, and you’ve never noticed this before. You get out of the shower, having scrubbed hard enough to rid yourself of any dirt but not enough to create micro-abrasions on your skin, and Leona still complains about it. You play fight with Cheka, gentle enough that neither of you gets harmed and he’s giggly, and he pauses his mirth and wrinkles his little nose before asking if you got hurt. Zuri, Farena’s wife, regularly would stop you whenever she saw you, her eyes wide as she asked you if everything was okay. The palace staff didn’t say anything, but they’d constantly be re-filling your first-aid kit, one that was “gifted” to you and one that the staff and Kifaji (despite him being human like you, or maybe just not obviously a beastman) insisted that you carry at all times.

But out of all of them, Farena was the worst. If you were in Cheka’s nursery, even just seconds after the kid fell asleep, Farena would pop out of nowhere. If you lingered a bit too long in the kitchen or hallways, anywhere too far from Leona’s wing, he’d approach with a smile, his arms spread wide. If you came to the dining hall without Leona’ his glowing brown eyes would find you, the intensity akin to a sudden knife wound. His persistence in being around you was all blanketed by his uncomfortable implications when he spoke to you.

Even so, you happened to somehow get lost. The hallways are sort of color-coded, but you’ve passed this same hallway several times, enough for you to be okay with admitting that you’ve been walking in a circle for the past twenty minutes. And, much like the devil, as soon as you thought that if you were there any longer, a certain lion-man would appear, Farena popped up and scooped you into a hearty hug as greeting, your feet coming off the floor.

“Leona’s partner!” He never calls you by name. It’s always just that. You are Leona’s partner, not your own person, you guess, “I knew I’d find you eventually.”

“Yes. Hello, your highness.” You wheezed as he placed you back on the floor.

“Oh, you’re so prickly, just like my baby brother. You two are a perfect match- he does like a bit of bite.”

You rarely knew how to respond to him, so you often didn’t. You just stared at him, like a total moron, but he continued talking like you aren’t giving him the most anserine of looks- a word he has used to describe you before, basically to your face.

“I’ve heard that you forgot your first aid kit. We don’t need you tripping and scratching yourself on Leona’s dresser again, and not with an inability to heal yourself.” He never gave you time to answer, “Of course, I know you aren’t magic, but those of you without it have made some wonderful inventions to make up for that.”

“Oh. Yeah, I just left for, like, two seconds so I could return something to the kitchen.”

He nodded, thoughtful, still smiling, “Well, did you hit your head? You’ve been walking in a circle, and you didn’t even stop to say hi to me.”

“No. I, uh.” You cast your gaze down the hallway closest to you, then looked back at Farena, “I am a bit lost. I guess someone else is usually with me when I’m wandering around.”

Leona is not the only person in his family with a cunning streak. You are marginally aware of this, and when Farena’s eyes narrowed, you sucked in a breath.

“Hmm. You’re right, Leona’s partner. It is rather strange not to see you by my baby brother’s side.”

It struck you multiple times in the past that the amount of times you bumped into Farena couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. He’s a king, so why was he never ruling or whatever kings did all day? It was incredibly strange, and you made the same subtle discomforted motions like clockwork. He usually pretended not to notice whatsoever.

His grin was always too bright. You did prefer Leona’s smirk, “Very well. It looks like I’ll need to escort you back to Leona’s quarters, won’t I?”

“Uh. I mean, if you’re not busy.”

“You’re such a mousy thing. Come,” He offered you his arm.

You took it, and true to his word, he led you back to Leona’s wing, then straight up to the door. He knocked, and you ducked out of his arm to cautiously open the door. Leona strolled out of the bathroom, hair and skin wet, his eyes not even skimming over you before they flashed to his brother, who strolled in as though he owned the place. Maybe he did. Who owns a palace if not the king?

“Ah, Leona! I found your partner, wandering the halls like a lost lamb.”

As soon as the words process in Leona’s mind, his green eyes are sliding to pin you down. Your limbs feel like lead, and you don’t move or emote, lest he strike. He’s like a snake when he’s like this, which is ironic. Perhaps it’s not ironic, and just comedic. Who knows?

Regardless, Farena keeps talking, “And I missed you at lunch! What a shame. They had your favorite, you know. Meat! And lots of it. Don’t you ever get hungry, being in here all the time?”

If not for everyone talking about the way your skin smells, that comment could have been written off entirely. It didn’t feel great, being indirectly told that you smell like fresh meat, and Leona wasn’t helping much.

“Mmm. No. I don’t like my meat that rare.” Leona grumbles, taking a seat on his bed and waving you over. “Hey, c’mere and braid my hair.”

What was worse? Being told you smell delicious or being told you didn’t smell delicious enough? It was one of those things. You cautiously tied off his braids, capping both of them in beads that Cheka had gifted you. His hair was wet, clinging to his skin as desperately as the water did. You caught yourself watching a drop sliding over Leona’s tattoo and hummed softly.

Farena was still talking. You didn’t hear the beginning, and you didn’t care about the end, so you completely tuned him out so you could finger detangle the rest of Leona’s wet hair. While you were ignoring Farena, you were pointedly all too aware of Leona’s sounds of pleasure. It took you a while to get used to it. You were a primate, and he was a lion. More lion than ape. He snorted and rumbled, huffed and chuffed, his face twisted in a scowl.

“Ah, what a shame. I’ll have to speak to you later, Leona. Perhaps you could talk about those plans with Zuri. I’m sure she’d love to listen.” You tuned back in as Farena turned to the door, opening it before remembering himself and waving at you, “Bye bye, Leona’s partner!”

When he was gone, almost as soon as the door was closed, Leona twisted his torso to grab you around the waist and pull you into one of his kisses. You read somewhere that the reason men kiss so… wetly is so they can mark their partner. It makes more sense if they just didn’t want to kiss with dry lips, but you’re no kissing expert. Leona is not an exception to this, you supposed. He always licked his lips before pressing them against yours, slicked with his saliva and often accompanied by a quiet, barely perceptible growl.

His kisses were dizzying. Possibly because it was difficult to breathe while kissing someone, and possibly because you were usually held in a crushing vice whenever he kissed you. Your poor ribcage had been squeezed many times.

And just as soon as it started, he dropped you unceremoniously and stood up, walking past your sprawled body on his floor, “We’ve got some big dinner to get to. Get dressed.”

You scrambled to your feet, “Big dinner?”

“Mhm. It’s some official’s birthday. I can’t be bothered to remember who.”

That made enough sense. In the time you’d been here, you’d learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t exactly worth it to go out of your way to be remembered positively by everyone, especially not since you were… with Leona. In all the time you’d been here, you’d never been sure about what the nature of your relationship with him was, either. Asking would get you some kind of snarky or irritated answer, and not asking but thinking about it made it hard to focus on anything else, so you didn’t think about it.

“Oh. You see Grim today?” You asked while getting dressed in your own green and black dashiki, like a couple’s outfit in the matching pattern of Leona’s.

Like he always did, he stared for a moment before making a few small adjustments. It was funny, he couldn’t be bothered to care about his own appearance, and yet, when it came to you…

“Yeah, He’s good. Still working on the mage stuff.”

“Mmm. Okay. Thanks.” You mumbled, lifting your arms so Leona could look you over again, “What?”

“You stink like my brother. If we had time, I’d fix that, but…”

“What does he smell like?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking what I smell like?” He snapped, and you flinched. Sometimes his irritation came with physical indications, but heavier than the physical indications was the energy around him, “Forget it. Stay close to me tonight.”

You usually did. You hated parties here, but more than the parties themselves, you hated the strangers who came up to you and just said whatever. Last time, someone approached you and asked how big Leona’s wallet was for you to stick around. You’re learning to like nobility less, not that you particularly liked them before..

You’re tucked against Leona’s back for the entirety of the evening. He’s like a ward. People see him and walk the opposite direction unless they’re drunk or stupid, and those types are in short supply at the beginning of the night. Unfortunately, by the middle of the night, amongst sips of his drinks and nibbles of various finger foods, you felt exhausted and Leona was straight up pissed.

You wondered why for a bit too long. You barely even realized when you ended up back in his room, outside on his balcony. He was stewing, pouting like a toddler. You unstuck yourself from his side and sat in one of the chairs.

“Mmm.” He grumbled. He often did this, putting a noise to his emotion, but no words to explain himself. You’d wised up and figured out early on that it was best not to approach him for this type of thing, “Hey, runt.”

Uh oh. He tended to use that nickname before he did something foul to you. You squirmed in your chair and flinched as he turned around and yanked his shirt over his head. His pants went next. Leona didn’t bother with underwear.

“C’mere. What are you hidin’ in the corner for?” He mumbles, “We’ve got time now.”

Your uh oh gets multiplied. It’s not that you aren’t attracted to Leona, or that you’re not in the mood. It’s not that you’re terrified of him, not that you’re confused by his awkward libido. It’s that you honestly don’t know what he sees in you, sprinkled with a bit of relationship insecurity. You’re here because of him, you and Grim have a home because of him, but what’s going to happen when he gets bored with you?

He looks over his shoulder at you sharply, “What the hell are you doin’? I said c’mere.”

You swallowed and took a few steps forward, stripping as you walked. The night air makes your skin tingle with goosebumps, your nipples hardening and a shiver rattling through you. It’s a very strong possibility that these feelings have beset you based only on the fact that someone could look up from Zuri’s garden and see you and Leona, both naked on his balcony.

When you’re standing in front of him, he just stares, one of his hands ever so gently stroking himself. You think it’s funny, the phrase “playing with yourself,” because that is what it is. His fingers softly paw at his heavy balls, gliding up the base of his shaft to tweak the head of his cock under his foreskin. He doesn’t break his gaze on you to look at himself. The hand that is not busy with himself reaches out to grab your waist, just above the start of your hip, and yank you closer.

He’s not gentle. Not really. You know he has the capacity to be gentle, but he doesn’t really seem to care. In the past, when you’ve pleaded with him to be gentle, he’s told you that he would treat you like glass if he thought you were made of it, but since he’s seen you suffer worse (what is worse?) he doesn’t see the point in bothering. That doesn’t change the fact that his touch often hurts. Now is not an exception, and you make your displeasure clear with a soft noise of discomfort.

“Shhh. You wanna tell me what happened earlier?” Leona mumbles, pressing his face against the skin on your stomach, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh.

You absolutely hate it when he smells you like this, but that’s not important right now, “Wh-what?”

“With Farena. You looked freaked out.” Leona ever so lightly kisses the pit of your bellybutton, “He do anything to you?”

You’re not a fan of Leona acting like this. While it seems like he cares, you know from past experience that he’s typically, if not always, on the brink of a jealous meltdown. His jealous meltdowns almost always end with you sitting alone in the bathroom, tending to your own wounds as he sleeps like a kid who just threw a tantrum. So you decide to give a simple answer before distracting him, at least for a moment.

You scratch the nape of his neck, since he doesn’t like you touching his ears, “He was just his usual off-putting self. Nothing else.”

Leona grunts and looks up at you, so you take your chance. You lean down, sitting on your knees, and press a mock-reverent kiss to Leona’s thigh. He’s surprisingly hairless, for someone who is more lion than ape. You suppose the same could be said for yourself, as someone who is more ape than lion.

Leona’s unimpressed face slants into a smirk, and his hand that was previously fondling his genitals slides to cup your cheek, fingertips rubbing behind your ear.

Now that it’s right in front of your face, you wish that you hadn’t decided that this was the best option for distraction. You think maybe anything would be better than catching those barbs in the back of your throat. The little softly-curved nubs circling the base of the head of Leona’s cock flare out a bit, resembling one of those Elizabethan ruffs, tattered by the passage of time and reduced to the skeleton. They aren’t sharp, not truly, but they’re uncomfortable, especially when you forget that the more worked up Leona gets, the further they poke out and the harsher they feel. It’s similar to someone’s very carefully blunted fingernail and fingertip rubbing against your cheeks.

You try to suck up your carefully hidden disgust and press a soft kiss to the very tip of Leona’s dick, wetting your lips with his salty pre. Surprisingly, he doesn’t taste bad. You would think that his skin, his cum, would taste bitter and harsh, but it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever tasted. Perhaps that’s a silver lining in this wicked situation.

Regardless, a quiet grumble from him makes you snap back into the reality of where you are, and you figure you may as well get to work. You slide your lips down to his base, wincing as the spongy head of his member punches the back of your throat and his hand slides back to grip your nape.

“You trying to bore me to death, runt? You know I hate this teasing shit.”

That’s right. He absolutely loathes it. You bob your head a little more expeditiously, trying to ignore the slick mixture of drool and pre that is escaping from the corners of your lips and the ever-increasing strength of Leona’s thrusts against your face.

Despite your senses being the most dull in the palace, you can sort of hear the festivities downstairs, and Leona chuckles, standing with your head still cradled in his hand so he can actually start thrusting. It always begins with you trying to set a gentle pace and it always quickly dissolves into chaos. He’s lazy, but if he’s anything more than lazy, it’s a shameless pleasure chaser. You would think that you would have learned by now.

“You can’t hear them. They’re not at all concerned with me, they’re wondering where you went off to. But everyone knows that you belong to me, so they should know that you’re with me.” Leona mumbles.

You gag, his dickhead wetly popping against the back of your throat as the fluids in your mouth froth with the speed of his motions, gooey trails roping down to cling to your cheeks and collarbones, connecting to Leona’s shifting hips. At least he doesn’t stink today.

A bug lands on your shoulder and flits away as you choke on Leona as he shoves his cock down your throat. Maybe you should feel a bit more grateful that this is happening partially outside, and that way you can have constant reminders that you’re still alive and not in some form of purgatory, serving time for your very minor moments of humanity when you were alive.

Leona snarls, “You’re just so cute, with those lips wrapped around me. I wonder if my brother would keep flirting with you if he knew that you were like this in private.”

The implications of that statement are absolutely lost on you. You’re aware that Leona knows how you feel about your current life to a degree, but he doesn’t give a damn about your emotions. Whatever he’s talking about is absolutely just him babbling out some sex-addled nonsense. As the barbs scrape against your uvula, you gag and try to push his hips away so you can catch your breath for a second.

He doesn’t let up. Sweat is sliding over his skin, beading into crystal pearls and sliding down to flavor the skin in your mouth with their salt. If you don’t puke from his roughness, you’re going to puke from ingesting so much sodium. His smirk grows and his fingers massage the base of your head as if he isn’t pounding into your throat.

“Aw… too much? Maybe if you were a bit more active, I’d be done a bit sooner.” He coos.

You don’t fully hate Leona. He has given you somewhere to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear, for both you and Grim, but whenever he gets like this, taunting you even though he’s using you like a cheap sleeve, you feel an indescribable, hopeless anger. Regardless, you bring one of your hands up to the copious amounts of drool and pre and sweat that are covering your skin, collecting the goop on your fingers. You cup his ass with your non-gooey hand and spread that cheek, plunging a finger into his asshole and aimlessly crooking your finger.

His hips spasm, his hand fists into your hair and he lets out a low grumble, “Rrr.”

You slowly ease your other gooey finger into his ass and hope that he will cum soon so you can catch your breath. You need a shower, and he’s probably going to just go to bed after this. You’re more tired than he is, and you’re actually beginning to think that you both might be a bit tipsy. You need this to end, and you need it to end soon.

Your prayers are answered. You feel his cock bob in the back of your throat, the glans tapping that soft spot that makes you feel it in the back of your nose, and he yanks your head back, your lips releasing him with a somewhat loud pop.

His cum is hotter than it has any right being. You suppose since he runs hot, it’s not that shocking, but you’re also aware that the whole reason that the balls are not an internal thing is because the human body is way too hot for sperm to live for long periods of time inside of the body. This information is irrelevant, however, because Leona has just made the mess on your skin that much worse. You sigh as he lets go of you, flopping back into his chair and gesturing to his cock again.

“Can you clean me up before you go running off?”

You’d love to tell him no, to ask him to shove it, but you grunt your acquiescence and tongue-clean his messy skin, as if you aren’t covered in more slime than he is. Once done, you stand up and gather your clothes, placing them in the laundry bin in the bathroom and getting in the shower.

You scrub a little harder than usual, but not hard enough to break skin, not even enough to create micro-abrasions. Once out, you throw on one of Leona’s gaudy yellow tees and take a seat on the bed. He’s already curled up under the covers, but the soft tapping of his tail lets you know that he isn’t sleeping. You slide under the covers yourself and Leona rolls over, pulling your back into his chest.

“Hey.” He mumbles into your hair, “You stink like a fresh kill.”

What’s worse? Smelling like blood in a den of predators or being in the den of predators to begin with?

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yuri-is-online · 16 days

Note

My question was about how the few boys who stayed alive would react to seeing yuu again

But how Yutu feels about the life he could have had in general sounds very interesting as well

So sorry about any confusions 🥲

No problem! Just wanted to make sure I understood you correctly. I have already sort have touched on how Jade reacts to seeing Yuu again, as I wrote about over here Yuu dies pretty quickly when they arrive, but let's ignore that for now and pretend Yuu is just really sick.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is part of my Fyuuture kid AU which can be learned about here, or on my masterlist under the series section

Silver is filled with overwhelming happiness and relief, much like when he finds Lilia in Endless Halloween. He doesn't care that you are weak or injured, he's more than willing to carry you on his back so you can get around, or push you in a chair if that's what you would prefer. He's just glad that the real you is here and he doesn't need to search for you in his dreams anymore, he can handle the world ending if he knows where is family is.

Sebek is a mess. He doesn't stop crying for days and switches between speaking at his normal volume (foghorn) and so quiet it is surprisingly hard to hear him. That intense stare from before when he was mad at you for being close to Malleus is back but instead of anger he's like a big cat who assumes you will disappear if he blinks. He'll settle eventually, just give him a moment.

There is a gap between when you first arrive and when Idia manages to get to you. As soon as you and Yutu arrive he gets a message and flies over as fast as he can, tense as all hell and not believing that it will be remotely real by the time he gets there and it will just be some sort of cruel joke. But it isn't. It's you, it's really you. It ages him almost instantly as he dares to relax next to you for the first time since you left, as he's struck mute by how you've been so strong to make your way back to him. You really don't like playing by the rules, huh? Lucky you he's into that.

The time between when you arrive and when Epel gets to be with you is even longer. When he learns you're alive he drops off the radar for a full week again, managing to drag himself out of the barricade and past Rook's watchful blotted eyes. He walks to a place where he knows he can take off flying, that's how determined to see you again and meet Yutu. He never fully processed losing you, and he's managed to convince himself he won't need to if he can make it to your side and just see you. That's not what happens. Seeing you again just makes what happened come to the front all at once. You've seen Epel cry before, but never this much. He's happy he swears, just let him hold your hand for a bit and don't comment on how intent he is on holding your pulse point.

This is simultaneously everything Vil has ever wanted and his worst nightmare. You and the baby are still alive; you are cursed and in bad physical shape, his son has no idea who he is. He hasn't given in to the phantom, and seeing you makes her song less pressing in his skull, but it's still a danger so he can't hold you. He can't comfort you in the way he wants just yet, he has to satisfy himself with resting his palm against yours and pretend the glass isn't there. Seeing you again gives him some of his moxie back, but it's clear he isn't doing well, something in him is broken but being with you could maybe knit it back together. Just don't leave him again, he knows it wasn't your fault, that you didn't go willingly but... he won't lie he was worried you did. And it made him think deeply ugly thoughts about himself.

Jade. Oh Jade. When he stands alone at his bar he gets bored sometimes. Closes his eyes and fantasizes about things he'd like to see. His favorite is one where you walk up to his bar in some slinky little outfit, the color changes depending on his mood but today he's thinking about black. You come up to his bar as he's closing it down and his back is turned, cleaning the glasses and saying Oya, you'll have to come back tomorrow I'm afraid. We're closed right now. "Not even for an old friend?" His eyes fly open and the glass shatters. You're older than he remembers, leaning on someone his instincts recognize the scent of even though he's never seen him before. A black NRC jacket has been slung around your shoulders, his lips twitch at the coincidence. You are twice as beautiful as the day he lost you, and twice the fool if you think you are ever leaving his sight ever again.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au

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crypticdesire · 2 months

Text

you, me, and the sea are meant to be

MINORS DNI

dom amab reader x yandere!mermaid rook (around 3.5k words)

cw: rook is a little insane, yandere behavior, almost causes reader to drown, rook has an ovipositor and cloaca, ovipositioning, mention of baby trapping, face fucking, ...mmmm i think thats all....

You couldn’t decide if it was a good idea to come out here today. Wind mixed with briny mist causes your shirt to billow out away from your skin, and your pants slowly become damp from the cool wet rock you’re sitting on. Despite this you can’t help but enjoy looking out across the ocean on an overcast day, the muted grey tones of the sky and sea lulling you into a state of serenity.

Though there are some certain shades of vibrant colors you wouldn’t mind seeing. You stare intently at the water directly below you lapping gently against the low sides of the rock, a growing temptation to dip your feet into the water. It would no doubt be cold and you might get sick, but ever since you met them it was like the water was calling out to you.

Growing up on the hill above this rocky shore, you had spent plenty of time playing in the ocean, but now when the salty water met your skin it felt like you were being wrapped in some form of mystic energy. You liked to think that the sea acknowledged your presence and somehow made them aware of it too, although you were sure it was a foolish thought you should never voice to anyone else. Still, you find yourself allowing the small waves to lightly splash against your shins as you sway your feet in the murky water below you.

After a while goosebumps cover your skin, and you decide it’s probably time to accept they won’t be here today, and make the trek back up the steep rocky path that almost no one but yourself found worth the trouble to use to access a shore that seemed to be more rock than sand.

Just in time to stop you, however, something grabs your ankles causing your heart to leap out of your chest, half of a scream stuck as a lump in your throat.

Damn it. You should have gotten used to this by now, but at least your reactions aren’t as dramatic as they were before. You don’t even pull your feet out of the water as the hold on you is released, waiting for Rook’s head to pop out of the water. He was the only one out of the three that ever tried to catch you off guard like this, claiming it was a great source of amusement. And just like usual he has a coy smile on his face when he surfaces.

“Oh, mon joyau terrestre. I told you to always be prepared for the unexpected when you venture into our murky depths, non?” He casually adjusts the wet strands of his bangs before resting his elbows on the rock you sit on. His vibrant tail with a mix of purple and red scales bobs on the surface of the water, a tug of awe still pulling at you despite how many times you’ve seen it.

“It is really unexpected if you do it every time?”

“Perhaps not, and yet you still make yourself vulnerable every time” His sigh is not one of curiosity or disappointment but fondness. When you ask him about Vil and Epel, his smile remains but his eyes slightly narrow.

“My beauty isn’t enough to satiate you, mon joyau terrestre?” He rests his head on one of his hands, batting his pale lashes that still have small droplets of water on them.

“You know your company is always enough for me” You nudge his bare shoulder with your knee. “I was just wondering if I should expect someone else since you’re always the first to arrive”

“Maybe I just can’t break the cold surface of the water fast enough to feel the warm embrace of your smile” He gives you a toothy grin, a smile filled with more sharp teeth than you ever thought a mermaid would have. Rook let your curious fingers touch them once, maybe a little too eagerly, and you found them to be razor sharp just like the talons on his hands. Natural features for an omnivorous creature that lived in the depths of the ocean where they weren’t at the top of the food chain they assured you. But something was alluring about the juxtaposition between their delicate beauty and threatening features. A tingle went through you each time your skin was touched by one of Rook’s talons.

As if noticing where your attention has gone, Rook adds to his poetic words. “And scope out any threats of course”

Looking at him, it was hard to believe anything would faze him; however, from what they’ve told you their habit is to always avoid the dangers of land and its humans. Why they chose to continually interact with you is a question that goes unanswered. Migrating to your tiny corner of the world every summer maybe meant they didn’t fear a person they perhaps watched as a child stumble on the rocks and talk to any little creatures they came across. You met them as an adult a year ago, but Rook always talked like he already knew you.

“But to answer your question, the others won’t be joining us today. Vil has some matters to attend to, and Epel has been dragged along with him as punishment for going into the waters of the snatchers” You know he’s talking about the area the local fisherman frequent. “Just insists on staying in trouble I suppose” he sighs insincerely.

“I came today to give you something” he continues, taking a chain off his neck you didn’t notice before. As he pulls it out of the water you see the gold chain holds a jewel in a deep shade of purple. You aren’t familiar enough with jewels to know what it is, but it’s in a beautiful teardrop shape.

After dropping it into your hand, Rook pulls himself up so he can sit on the rock beside you. He insists on putting it on for you, your eyes intently studying his blue ones as he does. His touch lingers at your neck, talon grazing your skin as he follows the chain from your neck to your chest. You try to subtly adjust yourself to hide the fact the tingle has traveled down below your waist as well.

“I like there being something close to you that makes you think of me. Something close to your heart…” he trails off voice sounding mesmerized as the back of his hand caresses the place over your heart. He stares at the spot with yearning, almost like he wants to caress your actual heart.

You two had undeniably gotten closer this summer, this not being the first time he has visited you alone. You’ve learned that mermaids’ forms of affection, even platonic affection, centered around physical touch. But Rook’s touch had begun to feel different at some point, something more intimate about it that too easily stirred a desire in you. Unable to resist these urges, one day you two crossed the line of what could be considered platonic and never had any regrets.

You expect him to kiss you now, but any evidence of lust is gone in an instant as his expression morphs into one of pure delight, asking you to swim with him. Despite your reservations about the cold water before, it takes little convincing from Rook to coax you out of your clothes and into the water. You remind yourself that the end of summer will come and so will your time with Rook. Of course, your undergarments don’t help keep you warm at all, but Rook’s playful nature distracts you just enough so you’re not uncomfortable as your body adjusts to the cooler temperature.

“I love watching you swim mon joyau terrestre! The rhythmic movement of your legs is so adorable” he gushes. He dips underwater, and you feel his fingertips caress the length of your leg, from ankle to upper thigh. You tense when that touch extends to your clothed cock, that tingling sensation returning. When Rook resurfaces, however, he doesn’t acknowledge the intimate touch and instead engages you in more of his games.

After a while you give your body a reprieve, the sea calm enough to float on your back. You bask in the peaceful quiet, your ears submerged underwater and Rook idly playing with your fingers. A muffled sound tells you he’s starting to say something so you ask him to repeat it, slightly turning your head so one ear is above the water.

“Que c’est beau” he says “It’s like you were meant for the ocean. Such a shame you need air and swimming is so exhausting for you. I wish you could stay in the sea swimming with me all day” he pouts.

“Even with my pruney fingers” you joke, waggling your wrinkled fingers in front of him.

“I’ll take you pruney fingers and all” he gently presses a kiss to each fingertip. “If you could, would you go with me? Let the ocean be your home?” You smile at the thought.

“It’s certainly appealing” you reply not wanting to dwell too long on the impossible.

“I want that.” His grip tightens on your hand. “I want it so bad” Not knowing what to say, you let the quiet return, both your ears back underwater. Rook’s hold is still tight but you don’t mind. You don’t mind that is until he uses it to drag you underwater.

At first, you think it’s one of his games aimed at getting you to start swimming, but his grip on your wrist is ironclad as he pulls you deeper than expected. You try to grasp his wrist with your other hand to let him know you want him to stop, but he doesn’t even look at you. You don’t know what his goal is, but the surprise dive gave you little time to fill your lungs with air, and you close your eyes struggling to hold your breath.

All of a sudden he stops and lets go of your wrist. You open your eyes again to reveal the blurry image of his face smiling back at you, the momentum of the dive causing you to bump into his chest. You point to the surface, indicating you need air, and begin to kick your legs, catching a glimpse of Rook’s smile morphing into a frown. You don’t make it very far, however, his hands grasping you again. This time, he wraps his arms around both your arms and torso, holding you close to his chest. You can feel him nuzzle his face into your neck, but your body has gone into survival mode and you struggle against him. With little control over your arms, you desperately kick your legs, feeling them make weak contact with his tail.

Panicking you forcibly bite down on his shoulder without thinking about the consequences, his surprise loosening his grip around you. You immediately push yourself away from him and try to ignore the burning sensation in your lungs as water enters them. You can’t gauge how far away you are from the surface, so you just continue swimming. Your thoughts become unclear, the pain in your chest ebbing away but hopefully, the movements of your legs haven’t slowed. If only you could reach the surface. Black spots float between you and the surface. You think you’re still swimming.

You feel slightly detached from your body, but you feel the cool sensation of air as your hand breaks through the surface. When your face surfaces you flap your arms wildly looking for something to hold on to, coughing and spluttering as you barely keep your face above water. Your limbs are growing heavier and you can feel your body giving out when a sudden force propels you out of the water. Your mind is slow to catch up, but a few moments later you feel the rough surface of a rock beneath you, your insides burning as you violently cough up water.

You feel weak. Your body. Your breathing. Your ability to think and process what happened. All weak.

Eyes closed, you try to focus on your breathing first, opening your eyes again when you have it steady. You’re only able to squint at first, your eyes stinging and sensitive to the light even with it being overcast, but you can eventually open them wider to see the blurry form of Rook sitting beside you. You expect yourself to have some kind of reaction. You still can’t think clearly, but he almost drowned you, right? Do you even let yourself think that he was trying to drown you?

If Rook sees that you’ve come to, he doesn’t acknowledge it, simply humming as he gently traces circles into your thighs with his fingertip. Your eyes drift to his shoulder, the place where you bit him already becoming a bruise.

“You-“ your voice comes out hoarse and can’t even say another word before you go into another coughing fit. It at least gets Rook to talk to you.

“That was unexpected, non?” he softly smiles. He waits patiently for you to respond.

“I could..” You take in a shallow breath. “..have died” Your voice is quiet, not holding any of the rage or fear that would be logical to feel.

“At least a dead body doesn’t need air” he giggles. Your chest becomes tight like it’s feeling with water again. You try to discern the emotion behind his eyes, but find that you’re unable to do so.

“Relax,” he squeezes your thigh affectionately. “I’m only joking. Of course, I prefer you alive. I get to enjoy you more that way. I thought about it and in the ocean, the skin of your dead body would peel away too quickly, and I’d hate to share pieces of you with bottom feeders.” His mirthful laughter can’t erase the truthful tone of his words.

“Plus, I’d miss the way your body reacts to my touch” he looks at you through his lashes, the fingertip that was formerly on your thigh now rubbing the length of your cock over your soaked underwear. You feel the slightest tingling sensation, but you’re not even sure you could get hard right now. But you also don’t ask Rook to stop.

“Are you in pain?” He questions, which is a question you have to take a moment to think about, still not feeling completely connected to your body. The worst feeling right now is the painful raw feeling inside your throat and nose from having the salt water in your body. Your limbs feel weak and heavy, but you’re sure the soreness will hit you with its full force tomorrow.

“Just a bit” you decide to answer, voice still raspy.

“Do you want me to make you feel better?” He teases the band of your underwear. The logical part of your mind, though still dull, is saying that you should get away from him as soon as you can, but could your weak body really make it up that steep hill right now? He did admit he prefers you alive, so you can’t be in danger anymore, right?

You end up nodding your head, and Rook beams at you, immediately moving to remove your underwear. You let him do all the work, of course, watching every movement of his hands as he tosses your underwear to the side and wraps them around your flaccid cock.

He lets his spit drop onto your tip, spreading it down your length as he strokes you. He kisses your tip before taking you into his mouth, making sounds of pleasure as he tries to take you fully into his mouth. He’s careful with his teeth, but you feel a gentle scrape on the underside of your dick occasionally, causing your thighs to tremble.

His tongue is warm as it roams your cock, and you can’t help but let out a moan of pleasure when he gives the same attention to your balls, sucking on them gently after he’s licked their surface. There’s the smallest tug in the pit of your stomach to let you know his ministrations are working. You even lift your hips a bit to push your cock deeper into his mouth when he takes it between his lips again. Spurred on by your actions and the potential of getting you hard, Rook pleasures you with more fervor, hands circling the base of your cock while he bobs his head taking the rest of you.

As you become more vocal, Rook becomes more sloppy, his drool coating your cock as he continues to suck you off. He whimpers when he feels your hand grasp his hair and tries to deep-throat you again. You attempt to thrust into his mouth again, but his lips leave you too soon, hand rubbing your tip again.

“Your mouth doesn’t deserve a break” you grunt using your grip on his damp hair to force him back down on your cock. You feel him moan around your cock as you bob his head up and down your length, and then you bury his face in your pubic hair as you try to hit the back of his throat. He doesn’t resist you so you continue to pull his head up a bit before roughly forcing it back down until he’s coughing and spluttering like you were earlier.

“I’m close,” you tell him when you let go of his hair.

“I want to taste you in my mouth” he pants, fondling your balls with one hand as he goes back down to swirl his tongue around your tip. He then takes your tip into his mouth sucking as he strokes your base with his hand, and it doesn’t take long for you to approach your climax, hand twisting itself back into Rook’s hair as you come into his mouth. He whines, sucking you harder, and he doesn’t take you out of his mouth until he’s sure you’re done.

“Mmm. I love the taste of you mon joyau terrestre” he looks almost delirious as he takes his thumb to push some cum that leaked out onto his bottom lip back into his mouth, eyes fluttering as he savors the taste.

“I can’t seem to control myself around you” he keens, laying down beside you, and you prop yourself up on your side so that you can watch his hands trail down his abdomen and go to the scales of his tail. His fingertips begin to gently massage his half-extended ovipositor. Adjacent to that is his slit, which you wouldn’t even know how to locate if it wasn’t for him showing you a couple of weeks ago. He let you slip your fingers into his squishy insides and explore his cloaca just as eagerly as he let you explore his teeth.

You trace your finger along the edge of the slit now, causing Rook to whimper and beg you to touch him. He whines as you dip your finger just over the edge, fingertips roaming his cloaca before teasing his entrance.

“Please” he begs again, still massaging his ovipositor and you push the tip of your finger in, watching Rook’s expression as his eyes roll backward in pleasure. You wiggle your finger in the wet warmth of his entrance just in the slightest to stretch him out a bit.

“Ah you feel perfect inside me” he praises as you continue stretching him. “I wish you could fertilize my eggs, so I know you’d have a reason to see me again. I need you to be here every migration season waiting for me” His tail squirms as you push the rest of your finger into him. He’s so wet now, that his insides make a squelching sound as you thrust two fingers into him.

The end of his tail firmly slaps the surface of the water a few times, back arching off the rock as he climaxes. You slip your fingers out of him as he quickly turns on his side and watch as he gasps in pleasure letting out a series of three eggs. After he’s done he gently caresses the eggs with his fingers, looking up at you with adoration.

“Que c’est beau” he smiles leaning forward to brush his nose against yours, and you hold your breath until he relaxes his forehead against yours. Heat rises to your cheeks at the intimate mermaid gesture he’s shown you before, that heat being one of a burning need to have more. He seems prepared for the moment when your lips meet his, tongue probing your mouth, movements much more natural to him now than the first time you kissed.

“I know you can’t fertilize these eggs,” he says sadly when you pull apart. “But you will always wait for me, non? I want you all for myself all the time, but the sea doesn’t seem to want to grant that wish." he sighs wistfully.

"The only way I can leave you is if I know you’re always thinking of me. Promise you’ll never take that necklace off” his eyes shine with desperate need as he places a hand on your shoulder, talons slightly digging into your skin. You weren’t sure what your life would be like in a year, but given what happened earlier today there was only one right answer.

“I promise”

#twisted wonderland #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #dom reader #cw oviposition #cw yandere

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parragone · 1 year

Text

Anyway, more headcanons under the cut

Specifically, sexuality/previous relationship headcanons for the SAS, GIGN, and Spetsnaz

I'll probably do another one later for other CTUs but, yannow.

former smoke/mute, current doc/monty, twitch/cav, poly spetsnaz & kapglaz

Discussions of breakups, attempted arranged marriages, and abusive relationships, but I'm not going into major detail

SAS

> Thatcher;

This man did NOT know he was bi. He didn't have the vocabulary for it, and his family wasn't the best about LGBT folks even existing. Well, his father wasn't. His mother couldn't care less and suspected he was bisexual since he was young, but never confronted the issue, even though she knew he had feelings for pther men. He was, admittedly, a bit of a prick; he developed internalized homophobia and while he was never actively against the LGBT, he always said it wasn't natural.

He toughed out three marriages. The first fell apart because they were young and stupid, the second cheated on him, and the third grew too far apart from him once he became part of the SAS. He had four kids from these, he loves them dearly, but he's distant from them and mostly just gives them money to avoid intruding on a life he never felt he fit into. Pays for college, cars, the occasional vacation. He's met his grandkids once or twice, but the stepfathers of his kids have more of a right to be grandfathers.

And then he met Mute, and he couldn't dodge his homophobia anymore. It wasn't fair to abuse this kid because he was gay. He knew that, and he tried to deal with his issues. It worked for a bit. He did research and tried to build that bridge so that the kid would feel safe. And it worked. For a while, he didn't have to deal with himself if he focused on Mute.

Then he met Jordan fucking Thermite fucking Trace, and he had no choice but to confront himself. And god, he hated Trace to begin with, because Trace made sure he knew the offer was open. Jordan was everything Mike tried to bury, everything about a man he liked. He tried to get rid of the feelings by picking fights and ended up makign himself worse. It was Mute who asked him, in private, if he was having an issue. And it was Mute who he confided in, because of all people Mute knew he'd been trying to be better.

It didn't happen immediately. It took a lot of conversations, some with Mute, some with Harry, before he talked to Thermite, before he talked to Jordan, and he was blunt. honest. Straightforward that he's an old man with an old mind and he's not liable to be a great partner, that he's got a bad track record, that he's got an awful habit of being a little too... much. That it'd take a long time for him to be completely comfortable in a same-sex relationship.

He's grateful Jordan was, and still is, willing to wait for him. Even after years of being together, he has days where he struggles, where he feels like an imposter or like he's going against his own values. Jordan's patient, he's willing to listen, he's forgiving of missteps and helps keep him from going down awful mental spirals. He loves Jordan. He's still trying to figure out how to show that in a healthy way, but he does.

> Sledge;

Holy SHIT this man knew he was bi back in primary school. All it took was one really attractive rugby jock to take his knees out in the middle of a match and he knew. Man got pinned under a hot classmate and proceeded to speed run the seven stages of a sexual awakening. He went home, went straight to his mom, and begged her for an explanation. She laughed for almost an hour before she finally told him that it's just, you know, human nature. "It'll be alright, Seamus," she'd said. "It's just part of you."

And so he got comfortable early in life. He dated men and women both, in and out, until he joined the SAS. Then he just... stopped. He didn't have time to do the civilian way of things, so he assumed he'd have to wait until he left or he'd be restricted to other SAS members. Which, you know, wasn't uncommon as long as nobody risked the mission because they were romantically involved.

He's still hesitant. He's watched Smoke and Mute with a careful eye, been there for Thatcher, and watches the rest of the team; he's enjoyed being a source of relationship wisdom, even if he's notably single. Mute jokes that he's going to end up a crazy dog man, but! He's kind of okay with that. Low key dealing with a gym crush on Blitz, but he's not going to act on it anytime soon. [ Much to Smoke and Mute's dismay and frustration. ]

> Smoke;

You know that one term? Disaster bi? Yeah. Yeah. Smoke figured himself out early, much to his mother's dismay, and has never been shy about it. He's been in a lot of relationships, but the only three that have been long term have been... very different.

The first was passionate, but ended suddenly when he found out she had been cheating. The second was a struggle, as his partner was financially controlling and took away intimacy of every sort as a punishment for seemingly minimal offenses. He felt like he couldn't escape until he put his foot down about his daughter; his boyfriend at the time told him that it was either him or the kid, and Smoke chose his daughter without a second thought. Then, there was Mute.

God knows he loves Mute, but their relationship was complicated from the beginning. He tried to make sure Mute never fell into a situation where he didn't feel safe or heard, and often prioritized Mute over himself to the point of his own emotional detriment. hilariously, it ended up being a factor in their breakup - Mute was so frustrated that he wouldn't give himself any priority that he made the man promise to talk to Harry about emotional dependence.

He's had to figure himself out in the meantime, but he's pretty comfortable with himself and his boundaries. He's also realized that, yes, he can love his partner without putting them before his every want and need. Has a long-term affection for Maestro that Mute teases the ever-loving hell out of him for. [ "I can't believe your type is 'can they kick my ass', James." "Alright, yes, but you should eat his food. you'll fall for him, too" ]

> Mute;

If he never talks to his family they don't have to know he's gay and trans. That's the mantra he lives by!

Really, he's just fucked up all over. With minimal social skills to begin with and difficulty recognizing social cues, Mute wasn't even sure how a relationship worked. He wasn't even sure how to express his identity until he was nearly fifteen, and by then his family had arranged for him to marry someone almost twice his age. He vehemently refused and was, perhaps in an ironic twist, saved by the fact the GCHQ wanted him. A large part of his agreement was for them to forcefully emancipate him from his household, which freed him both in the financial and expression sense.

By the time Mute became a member of the SAS, he'd cut off his family entirely and done an ungodly amount of research into the LGBT movements online. While he's comfortable with his identity, he tries to keep it out of conversation and intentionally kept it secret from most of the team for several months until he was comfortable with them.

His relationship with Smoke was one of firsts. It was his first actual relationship with someone who wasn't, well, a little bit of a creep. Smoke is his best friend now, and he wouldn't trade that for the world, but he's also acutely aware that being friends with your ex is extremely weird. He's also fairly certain he's ace [ narrator: he's demi ], which he's pretty sure is a deal-breaker for many. He's content to sit and be himself for the time being, especially given that he's got emotional crushes on multiple friends and Caveira continues to encourage him to own up to them. He would, with all due respect, rather die!

GIGN

> Doc;

His first religious crisis was his sexuality. Prayed for days to try and figure out if it was a crime, read the scriptures, felt out of place. Confessed to his mother that the way his brothers felt about women, he felt about men, and she promptly declared that if Allah could not not forgive her son for love then she did not want anything He could offer her. As she always has been, she stood by her son regardless.

He didn't date, though. Not for some time. He focused on his career, on trying to make a difference in the world, on trying to make it better. He hadn't dated anyone, really, until this utter puppy of a man fell into his life with all the grace of a seal bouncing around on the beach. He wouldn't say he fell in love with Montagne at first sight, but he will say it was close. Montagne never tired of romancing him, as if every date were their first, and never let him feel unloved.

His feelings for Lion were complicated at best for a long time. It was his mother, again, who made it dawn on him that he may be poly-amorous, posthumously and through the many letters she had written to him when she was at her peak of health. While his relationship with Lion remains... difficult, Doc tries to remember that the man is dealing with religious and familial guilt the same way he once did.

Not to say he doesn't get a little bit of a kick about occasionally flirting with him, just to get a reaction.

> Montagne;

Hopeless romantic. Moving on- [ I'll probably edit/reblog and elaborate on this later but my brain is scattered ]

> Rook;

He's... he's a puppy. He's a bisexual puppy and everyone who's ever dated him knows this. Rook has never been ashamed of who he loves, and often involved himself in LGBT rallies before his enlistment, even with disapproval from his parents. While he himself has only ever dated women, he has an attraction to men and personally identifies as bi.

He's had a couple of long-term girlfriends, but they drifted apart due to service and difficulty with communication. He confesses he's not the best at explaining himself in the heat of the moment and, due to his service, has a bit of a hard time enjoying the same things he would if he were a civilian. Rook, ultimately, has had a pretty uneventful love life - he's just happy to be here.

He's the embodiment of "Rook, where'd you bag that baddie?" "I didn't. i was minding my own business and she threw me over her shoulder. I haven't gotten down since"

> Twitch;

Femme lesbian. Femme lesbian who once kissed her best friend at an all-girls school behind the gymnasium. Her parents never approved of her behavior, always told her she'd grow out of the phase, but she never did. Never would. It wasn't a passing feeling and she knew it before they ever found out about it.

She learned to hide her girlfriends. She played nice at events, at parties, smiled and played at being interested in the men her parents tried to introduce her to. But she sneaked off often, she wanted to date, she wanted to express herself.

Ultimately, that chance came with the military. Sure, it was difficult, but she was no longer bound by the restraints of her family's status. That was enough for her.

Now, however, she's got a problem in the form of one very quiet and very angry Brazilian woman who somehow continues to end up in her bed on a nearly nightly basis with little warning. It's definitely just a platonic, comfort thing... right? Right. Taina wouldn't trust anyone enough to even think about romance.

Spetsnaz

> Tachanka;

The power of himbo thick-skulled overconfidence has gotten this man through so much of his romantic life. He's extremely intelligent, but he had absolutely zero vocabulary for anything LGBT. His former wife knew he had no preference between men and women, and they would often debate the most attractive features of either sex as a matter of entertainment. They had married rather young, a whirlwind of love and laughter that never quite ended; while the love has changed, they're an inseparable pair and have raised their children with a strong co-parenting system.

His ex-wife, thankfully, was also the one who pointed out that he should try actually dating a man when they had divorced. She'd known he would never explore that part of himself while they were together, but she was happy to see him figure it out. They talked often about those they went on dates with, and he was her best man at her second wedding; she was the first one he told when Kapkan and Glaz invited him as a third in a semi-open relationship. She was the one who encouraged him to take the offer. He was also overjoyed when the offer was extended in turn to Fuze.

He's romantic. Hopelessly romantic with all three of them, with anyone as a partner. All he wants to do is feel like he's made them happy, feel like he's served a purpose in their life [ which leads to him being a service top, but that's a different post ]. He's not very good at flings, but long term relationships - be they truly romantic such as the one he has with Kapkan and Glaz or a friends with benefits situation like he has with some other members of the team - is something he does very well with.

> Kapkan;

This man thought he was a switch. He did. he'd dated off and on, he'd been in quick flings while undercover, he thought yeah, he's a switch, he's typically dominant, he's pretty solid where he is.

Then this fucking sniper showed up in his life and he hasn't been a dominant man in the bedroom since, no matter his position. He's also rarely the top, and even then, he's not the dominant partner.

Not to say he doesn't like being the follower in the relationship. It feels nice to be taken care of, even if he bitches about it to his partners and can come off as aggressive about his pride. It feels nice to be provided for, to be wanted and part of something that wants him. He's fairly sure it comes from wanting to belong, but Glaz does more than make him feel like he belongs, it's more like feeling like he's owned, and that makes him comfortable in a strange way.

He knew Glaz was poly-amorous when they got together, it was a condition Glaz had - that Kapkan be willing to discuss it, that the conversation remain open. It didn't happen for a couple years, and when it did, it was with someone Kapkan had an eye on - Tachanka - rather than Glaz. Fuze was Glaz's idea, but Tachanka was Kapkan's, and he's still a little surprised at himself for it.

Kapkan sometimes struggles with the fact he breaks down so easily for Glaz, but he finds himself strangely alright with the fact that if push came to shove, he'd follow Glaz to Hell and back.

> Glaz;

Glaz! Always knew he was a top! He'd been in a couple of relationships prior to Kapkan, but never anything long-term. Kapkan was different in the best of ways; particularly because when the two of them got together, he realized that Kapkan liked to be taken care of and yield up control. It was perfect, simply because Glaz always preferred to lead his partner anyway.

Kapkan fell first, but Glaz will always say he fell harder. He didn't expect Kapkan to be a caring partner, nor one so open to Glaz being poly-amorous. He has very little shame about how much he loves Kapkan, he keeps a few sketchbooks filled exclusively with details about his partner, he has little notes about the man's habits and preferences.

He treasures his partners, yes, each of them fill a different void in his life. But Kapkan in particular? He'd marry that man if they could get away with it, and maybe he will when they retire.

> Fuze;

He'll tell you that he realized it wasn't the path to take, he won't tell you that his former fiance was abusive and nightmarish.

While he is keenly aware he is bisexual with a preference for men, he has a low drive and will often excuse himself out of intimate situations due to sex having once been a weapon against him. Even when he trusts someone enough to be chatty around them, as he is with Glaz, he will often bury any trace of what he may want intimately. It takes time for him to open up, and he is reluctant to trust partners with his wants and needs, even if he is happy to indulge theirs.

The Spetsnaz have mostly coaxed him into giving them some signs of what he wants, which has been a long and difficult process in itself. The relationship is somewhat open, and Fuze does have a couple partners outside of them, but they know him better than anyone else and are often able to help him identify what he needs. he loves them dearly, even if it is in his own understated sort of way.

#r6s #rainbow 6 siege #parragone's emotional fanon rambles #parramblings #doc #montagne #rook #twitch #mute #thatcher #smoke #sledge #tachanka #kapkan #glaz #fuze #it's a lot #i do apologize #tucks this away

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months

Text

From One Master to Another

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia) | Part 9 (ft. Leona and Epel)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Gordon Ramsay isn't a classically trained pastry chef; he knows the savory, not the sweet. This time, the coursework involves instruction in desserts--and he'll find that he has just as much to learn as his students, Vil and Jack, do. I conducted a lot of research for this installment (reading articles on how to ice cakes + the science behind macarons, and, of course, watching videos where GR gets humbled and learns from fellow culinary masters). It provided me with a fresh perspective to write from~

Imagine this...

"... Jack."

"Yes, Vil-senpai?"

"What exactly am I looking at?"

Several countertops were covered in baking trays. Sugar circles sat upon waxy sheets, some collapsed and thinned out like wafers, others risen then caved in and cracked. It was an array of imperfections spanning the muted colors of the rainbow.

Jack clasped his hands behind his back, and tried to ignore the uncomfortable urge to itch the ears tucked under his hat, or to tear away the tangle of hair net containing his tail. His chef's jacket seemed to be straining to contain the entire bulk of him.

"Macarons," Jack reported.

Vil lifted a brow.

"... Er, at least they're supposed to be macarons," his underclassman awkwardly clarified.

Vil granted him a look of sympathy. "The poor things."

"W-Well, how did you do with your assignment?!" Jack stammered, eager to shift the subject. He glanced to Vil's table.

Lips pursed.

The model had gone with a light wash of makeup, simply a neutral brown gradient on his lids. His hair was arranged in a tight, tidy bun, flaxen bangs pinned back. Vil presented almost as flawless as a mirror's face—but certainly his cake didn't.

It was two layers tall (Jack had watched him saw and shape them earlier), stacked upon each other with a layer of buttercream sandwiched between them. The cake was starting to slope, as if in a desperate attempt to crawl to the exit. A coat of uneven chocolate frosting had hardened, forming odd peaks and lumps in a crust.

“That’s pretty rough.” Vil bristled at the words—sparse, yet biting. Jack continued. “How many cakes does this make, four?”

The question, unintentional needling.

“Seven,” Vil begrudgingly corrected him. Then, a small smirk formed. “And yourself? How many batches of macarons does this make?”

“Urk…!” Jack’s ears flattened, his bushy tail limp. “I guess we could both use more practice…”

“Jesus.”

The curse was spoken in a hissing whisper, emerging from neither from Vil nor Jack. It came from their teacher, an older man with weathered features—the result of wisdom and stress. He had been perched off to the side, observing his students’ skills in action, his frown seemingly ever extending as the mistakes piled up.

“Right then, maybe this isn’t working out,” Gordon Ramsay muttered, his eyes passing over a macaron graveyard and the crumbling cake mountains.

Not for lack of trying.

“Chef!” Jack immediately stood at attention. “We did our best to follow your instructions.”

“As you can see, the results were not particularly fruitful,” Vil chimed in. “We could do with additional instruction.”

Gordon startled, gaping at them. “Wait, you two want me to teach you more? You’re willing to listen?”

“Yessir!! Please guide us.”

“It’s as Jack says. We are here to learn and to enhance our culinary skillsets. We shouldn’t dawdle.” Vil narrowed his eyes. “Why do you act so surprised?”

“Can’t say this has happened very often.” Gordon stroked his chin thoughtfully. “The last time I had a pair of students this cooperative was months ago.”

“Just what exactly have the other Culinary Crucibles students put you through?” Vil angrily planted his hands on his hips. “Were Epel and Rook being disrespectful?"

Jack hesitated not wishing to speak ill of his Savanaclaw seniors. Still, it was easy for his mind to conjure the image of Ruggie swiping leftovers when no one was looking—“Free food is free food!”—and Leona yawning, mentally checked out of the situation.

"It's not hard to imagine," Jack confessed.

"They'll be getting an earful from me later!"

"Hmph, kids will be kids. I've dealt with cocky adults double their age or older acting like bigger babies. What's important is that they walked out of my kitchen better than when they first walked in."

Gordon leaned against a counter and folded his arms. Air escaped through his teeth. “Boys, I’ll be straight with you. Sweets, baking—it isn’t my specialty. I could try and teach you all bloody day and we'd still get nowhere."

“Are you serious?” Jack frowned. “So that means…”

"What I've already shown you is all I've picked up from experts back home. We've hit the ceiling."

“This can’t be!” Vil reeled, looking vaguely appalled. “If it’s come to this, then how will we possibly improve our craft?"

"I don't know."

I've never been in a kitchen where I haven't been in control.

"This is a fucking mess," Gordon groaned. I've failed my students.

“What’s with all the doom and gloom?”

Gordon bolted upright at the sudden voice.

A plump ghost manifested, suited up in a chef's jacket and hat. His face was as puffy as a marshmallows, and his belly shaking like a bowl full of jelly.

The head chef at Night Raven College.

"You fellas look like you've seen a ghost," he joked. "But never mind that. I noticed you’ve been standing around and being sad for a while now.”

“Right, that—” Gordon exchanged an anxious look with his students. He fumbled for an explanation, but didn’t have to.

“Oh my! Did you make these?” the ghost chef indicated the macarons and cakes. They were hard to miss. “Brave of you to start off with such finicky things. All in all, they’re not bad attempts."

"They're not?"

The ghost chuckled. “Of course not. How many times do you think a pastry chef muddles macarons or ices a cake incorrectly before it’s passable? It’s one part skill, one part practice, and one part learning as you go. Here, let me show you some tips and tricks I picked up myself.”

Vil, Jack—and even Gordon himself—watched in silent awe as the ghost chef went about his work.

Ingredients were effortlessly measured and sifter into a bowl (“Keeps it free of lumps!”), then whipped egg whites carefully folded into the batter. “You want stiff peaks for the whites, and minimum folding to get it incorporated!” Once the macarons were piped onto a sheet, the chef picked up the tray and slammed it down several times—“To scare off the air bubbles.”

The batch of macarons was slid into a waiting oven, and he started on his next task.

Into a stand mixer went several sticks of butter. The machine came to life, whipping the fats well.

“Traditional buttercream forms a crust over time,” the ghost chef explained. “That gets gritty and unpleasant! So here’s an alternate version that doesn’t crust. It’s less sweet, but still stable, easy to work with.“

He lifted a bottle and tipped its contents into the aerated butter. Transparent syrup fell in thick rivulets, and he grinned. Powdered sugar followed, visible only for seconds before it disappeared into the gathering frosting.

“The secret is light corn syrup. Using dissolved sugar instead of powdered makes the frosting smooth and stops it from hardening. Adds a fine luster to the frosting too!”

Using a spatula, he spooned the fresh buttercream into a piping bag and handed it off to Vil. “Scrape the stuff that’s on your cakes off and try again with this,” the ghost encouraged. “Should work like a dream!”

“Thank you,” Vil said, a little bewildered by the heft of the piping bag. “I will show you a beautiful dessert by yours truly.”

“Looking forward to it.”

DING!

The oven’s timer went off.

“That’s 13 minutes! Howl-kun, can you get the macarons?” called the ghost.

“Yes, Chef! I’m on it!” Jack, in a pair of heat-resistant mitts, marched to the oven and reached inside. He produced a tray of perfect pink domes, a cloud of ruffles—the macaron’s feet—at their bases. “Whoa.”

“A nice filling and they’ll be good to go. You’ve got it covered?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Good, good. Let us know if you need any help though, alright? That’s what your teachers are here for.”

Jack nodded, then retreated to his station. While the macarons cooled, he chopped white chocolate and tossed it into a pan with heavy cream. Moments later, they had melded into a rich ganache, sweetness hanging in a heavy cloud about it. One scoop was enough for a pair of shells, lightly pressed together.

Beside his junior, Vil was hard at work redoing a cake. His stand was set spinning, a bench scraper aligned to comb and smooth out the dollops of frosting he had painted along the sides. The cake was a blank white canvas, and Vil, the artist.

Sparks in their eyes, faces bright with the glow of determination.

“Incredible,” Gordon breathed, staring after the duo. He turned back to the head chef. “You made it look so easy.”

The ghost chef laughed and contentedly patted his stomach. “I’ve had my whole life and afterlife to master the skills!”

“No kidding. You saved my ass back there.”

And more importantly, he’s actually got the kids motivated again.

“You’re the one that’s helped us out a lot, Ramsay-kun. The kitchen is so short-staffed with so many students wanting to take the Culinary Crucibles elective this year. You took some of the instruction off of our hands. This is the very least I can do to return the favor.”

The head chef smiled. “Don’t forget, you can always call on us if you ever need help.”

“That right? Then I guess you wouldn’t mind helping me out with one more thing today.”

“Mm, what’s that?”

Gordon rolled up his sleeves, a newfound fire in his expression. “Please teach me too.”

“Huh?! You want me to teach you?”

“I’m as much of a student as they are—and I’d be honored to learn from a chef of your caliber.”

“Ramsay-kun…” The ghost teared up. “Oh, how could I refuse? I’d be happy to!! Go on now, get your own station set up and we can get started immediately.”

The creases in Gordon’s face lifted. His response, hearty and joyful.

“Yes, Chef!”

Vil glanced up from his cake. “… Are my eyes and ears deceiving me?”

“They aren’t.” Jack’s brows lifted. “I’m seeing and hearing it too.”

“It’s not so shocking,” Gordon grunted. “This is a school. We’re here to learn new skills and techniques—doesn’t matter if we’re student or teacher.“

“Fufufu,” Vil chuckled to himself. “Well, aren’t you humble?”

“Heh.” Jack found himself fighting to keep down a small smile. “I can respect that. Nothing wrong with a guy lookin’ to improve himself.”

“That makes three of us.”

We’re not that different at our very cores. Stubborn fools with dreams and aspirations of achieving something greater. For ourselves, for the ones around us.

The ghost chef clapped his doughy hands. “Isn’t this so exciting, class? We’re embarking on a culinary journey together! I hope you’re ready, because I sure am!”

They replied in unison, hearts united:

“Ready when you are, Chef!”