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acapelladitty · 1 month

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Cooper gives big sub energy if you open your eyes wide enough, don't you think ditty?

A/N: Maybe not sub energy but please enjoy this little thing where Cooper is forced to eat his partner out for being an ass. (1.7k words)

(tw: face sitting, orgasm, oral sex, dirty talk, threat of violence, biting, come marking, playful snark, mild violence)

Call Out Loud For You

Link to AO3 series

Fic Masterlist

Standing at the foot of the large cot which you had both decided to claim as 'home' for the night, your hands felt heavy on your hip as you held your ground against the smug ghoul who lounged against the threadbare sheets.

It had been a rough day. A bounty hunt very quickly went sideways as an isolated raider turned out to be very non-isolated indeed. And his friends weren't willing to give him up without a fight. But, as always, when the dripping blood finally settled and the missing limbs had been counted, it was Cooper and yourself who emerged the victors.

But still.

He had been a prick about it.

"Apologise." You demanded, wounded pride making you determined to get at least that out of him.

Sucking his lips in to unleash a short whistle, Cooper was unrepentant.

"Ain't got nothing to apologise for, so I won't be wasting the words."

His arm is raised overhead, nude body laying out utterly shameless and reddened against the pale sheets. A rogue chain had caught him across the outer thigh and the marks there would take days to heal. Your efforts to help with the injury had been swiftly rebuffed as he realised you were still looking for an apology and he had instead elected to strip off and drop to the cot, claiming it as his own.

For someone who was so vilified and hated due to his appearance, it sure didn't seem to bother him when it suited his mood.

Deprived of your own clothes due to the sweltering heat of the approaching night, you stood before him with equal pride - refusing to back down.

He knew he was in the wrong.

Those little affectionate brushes against your back and casual grabs at your body that had punctuated throughout the day after the doomed raid had screamed his unspoken guilt. But his stubbornness was maddening.

As was how horny his little games had made you.

Fuck it.

You were getting yours, one way or another.

"You always told me that the only thing we get in the world is what we're willing to take."

Proclaiming the sage words from a scowling face, you throw the advice back at him like a horse kicking up dirt.

"That I did."

"Then lie your stupid ass flat out on that cot. Arms by your sides and legs straightened out."

Surprise crosses his face for only a moment before being swiped away by something lecherous as his right hand drops to cup at his cock, the thick length laying half-hard against his upper thigh.

"I don't see how riding this old stallion is going to get your point across but I ain't complaining."

Shaking your head as you climb into the cot, your body slithers up his own like a serpent coiling in the desert heat until you can straddle his waist - making a point to ignore his cock as you sit above it.

"I'm gonna sit on your face and you're gonna eat me out until I forget that I'm mad at you. You're going to treat my cunt like it's your last supper before they execute your stubborn ass."

Narrowing his brow, the missing hole where his nose should be flaring as he inhaled, Cooper shook his head with a somewhat playful defiance; most of his fire having been extinguished by your soft body atop his as his hands immediately flew to your hips and groped at the flesh there.

"The hell I am. That sounds like a sorry to me, darli-"

Your hand makes a resounding crack as it collides with his hollowed cheek. On a regular man, it would leave a livid mark, but on Cooper - his skin already a darker shade than anything you could accomplish - it is truly undetectable.

What is slightly more detectable is the sly smirk which curls at the corners of his ragged lips and the way his pupils seem to dilate as he inhales sharply once more.

"Oh, it's like that is it."

"Damn right." Running your thumb across the ridge of his cheek, neatly atop the area which you had just slapped, you enjoy the rough sensation of his skin against your own as his hands increase their grip of you. "And if I hear any more backtalk then I'll just smother you. End of all my problems."

A thoughtful hum rumbles past his throat, and you feel it through your palm as you spread your fingers across his chest.

"Not the worst way I've died." Cooper admits. "Alright, darlin', hop on. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Shuffling forward, your inner thighs burn as they swipe across his collarbone in their efforts to position yourself so that his face - eyes burning in the shadows of their sockets - was in a prime position to service your eager sex.

"Might be the last meal you get, handsome." Sighing out the words, you spread your knees wide as you take the time to ensure your own comfort. "So don't waste it."

His response is too low for you to pick up properly, the syllables more a growl than anything else, but you can hear the bitchy quality to his tone as he dutifully pushes his mouth up to brush along your cunt.

He immediately sets out to punish you for that earlier slap, sucking at your folds with his lips and teasing the skin with blunted teeth. It's a lot and your fingers curl against the wall which the head of the cot sits against as you resist the urge to press down harshly on his face.

He seems to be enjoying himself though, his tongue licking a sordid line from your hole to your clit in one solid stripe.

"Fuck, Cooper-" You whine, legs tightening around his shoulders as his tongue grazes your clit; a sensation which sends lightning up your spine as your body tenses involuntarily.

Knowing he hit a good spot, he repeats the feat. His roughened lips add a cruel intensity to his movements as he suckles at your most sensitive nerves. It's hot and intense and too fucking much-

Grinding your cunt down onto his face, you momentarily mourn his lack of nose as an amusing image of being able to swipe yourself across it for extra stimulation flits through your mind.

His tongue would do though and you press your cunt against his mouth with vigour, forcing him to abandon your clit and refocus his attention on your hole. You're already painfully wet, his tongue lapping up more moisture than it was providing, and you feel him growl against your sex as he tastes you properly.

A vicious cry slips free of your throat as he disobeys your earlier demands and his calloused hands wrap around your inner thighs, pulling your lips apart to allow him easier access to his apology. His skin is hot as hell, the leathered texture as delightful as ever as his mouth messily latches on to your skin - sucking, biting, licking, and teasing every possible inch of you until your words are broken and incomprehensible.

A sharp pain makes you cry out and you feel the full ache of a bite radiating from your inner thigh, the skin unbroken but no doubt soon to bruise due to the hard treatment. The dual sensation makes your head swim as the pressure of arousal builds in your cunt.

Discomfort and pleasure.

Ecstacy and pain.

Pure Cooper in his most concentrated form.

Nearing completion, you can't help the bucking of your hips as he struggles to hold you into place - your cunt grinding on his mouth and chin as you chase that high.

"Fuck, Cooper. Just so- so fucking good. Need to do this- FUCK- do this more. Put that mouth to good, ugh, use."

It's a babble and a mess. Words stuttering and pitching as his lips find your clit once more and his tongue flicks against the engorged nub, sending you careening over the edge of the abyss.

Hands scrambling against the wall as your orgasm hits, the hot pleasure cascades through your body in waves - tensing and relaxing your frame in sync as you press down on his face. Without much choice, he swallows everything, his busy tongue refusing to let up its devouring of your cunt as your thighs clench around his skull.

Earlier musings blown to the side, you take a moment to appreciate that his nose was missing as your frantic jerking across his face would have probably broken it in several places. You ride your orgasm out against him, allowing him time to breathe when he earns it as his face skilfully tilts to the side to pull in sharp intakes of air.

Eventually the tension in your legs dies out and your cunt grows too overstimulated to be fully enjoyable and you push your hands off the wall, forcing your cum-soaked thighs to slip along his chest once more as you collapse to the side of him.

His face is a sight. The raw-looking skin glistened in the low light as his mouth and chin remain covered by your mess. His eyes were bright, piercing through your relaxed features as you wrap your leg around his own - marvelling at the temperature difference.

"Not bad, old timer."

Blissed out by his efforts, your attitude was much more amicable and to show your forgiveness, you lazily grip at his cock; the length rock hard and visible leaking pre-cum due to his own untouched arousal.

Deciding that maybe he did deserve a treat as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his scarred hand - bringing the collected mess to his mouth for a final taste - you run the pad of your thumb across the flared head of his livid cock in a playful tease.

"Let's see if we can do something about this little problem here."

"Little?"

Cooper's voice came roughly, his own aggression mellowed out by how visibly pleased you were with his efforts.

Still, he couldn't resist the bait.

"Not that little, I gotta say." You reply. "In fact, maybe I should return the favour and-"

Trailing off, you wetten your lips with your tongue and make a lurid sucking noise, something obscene and nasty, as your thighs press together gently.

It's not really that much of a surprise when his hand moves like lightning, snaring around your neck and pushing your head towards his cock while a faint yet familiar smirk sits on the corners of his lips.

It was your turn after all.

#amazon fallout #fallout #fallout 2024 #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #walton goggins #fallout tv #fallout prime

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foone · 4 months

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So here's how the story goes. Four young adults are teleported away from 1940s earth, where it turns out they're the last descendants of the great sages who defeated evil all those years ago, but with his last breath banished the sages to earth. Now, 200 years later, evil has risen again: a vile sorcerer has raised an army and is threatening the peaceful kingdoms of a fantasy world, and only the Divine Bloodline can weild the Weapons of Light and defeat the rampaging hordes. The heroes take up their weapons and fight the good fight, leading the armies of man and elf and dwarf and beast against the evil orcs, who are vaporized by their touch. They cut a path through the horde and defeat evil's greatest champions, who were guarding the Gem of Control, an ancient artifact that gave the terrible wizard control over the orcish population. Just as one of them swings their hammer to shatter it, the wizard intervenes, and uses the last bit of his control to destroy his army, lest they join you in their freed state. As the pieces of the gem hit the floor, already losing their sickly green glow, they see the attacking orcs fade into mist. They'd killed hundreds in your crusade, sure, but he just killed all of them. They later learn, against all fervent hopes, that this extended to the orcish homelands. Men, women, and children, cooking in their homes, planting the crops, raising brutecows and hunting in the dark forests... All gone in an instant. The scouts report a silent land with tools lying in workshops, food left uneaten at dining tables, and bursting into tears at entering a house to find it was a schoolhouse: Quills lying in all the seats, with rough parchment next to it showing the first few letters of the orcish alphabet.

They redouble their efforts, now fueled with genuine hatred for the evil sorcerer. He shifts his tactics, relying on darker magics to summon undead minions, which don't need the Gem of Control. They don't go poof when a holy weapon touches them, but are still no match for the divine warriors. With a skeleton the size of a zeppelin smashing down towers around them, the warriors reach the wizard and drive a broadsword of light through his chest. The skeletons collapse back into their eternal slumber in little piles on the floor.

The warriors put aside their weapons as they're received with great cheer. They're invited to join the royal families of the four kingdoms, marrying into the human, elf, dwarf, and beast royalty. They spend the rest of their long reign ensuring peace returns, monuments are made for the fallen orc nation, and the remaining undead who fled are not allowed to prey on the peasants, only taking up arms again to fight a den of vampires left behind.

In their old age, the wizard who brought them here reappears. It's taken him decades to develop the right magics, but he can finally send them home. They abdicate, letting their hybrid offspring take control, certain in their ability to run a kingdom with wisdom and justice. They leave behind their holy weapons, in case evil rises again. The wizard warns them that much may have changed in the world they left, as 80 years has passed there while it was only 40 for them, but they still want to see if London still stands and if their families or their descendants are alive.

They appear in the modern day, 2024. They're amazed at the technological progress, of course, but then there's a bigger shock. This isn't just an isekai story: this is a reverse-isekai story.

The holy weapons were forged using the same magics that brought them to the fantasy world in the first place. When they vaporized orcs, they didn't die, they were teleported. Teleported here. Every mind-controlled orc warrior that tasted their blade woke up uninjured... in Portsmouth.

And when the sorcerer tried to wipe them all out as the Gem of Control shattered, all he did was transfer that magic to every one of them. None of them died, except for a few elderly orcs who dropped dead from shock at ending up in England, Earth, 1943.

It's now 2024. The Orc population of London is 3 million. There's twelve orcs in parliament, and another in the house of lords. The world has changed a lot since they left, for the better, the weirder, and the greener.

#My writing

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moonsaver · 4 months

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Sumeru roses, House of Daena, Sticky notes.

-------

Being an asisstant for the scribe isn't so bad. Just ignore the persistent overtimes, the scent of your perfume everywhere, and the new ink bottles that keep running out on his desk. You didn't anticipate red being his favorite ink to work with.

A/n: more than 2.5k words. I didnt bother counting. I hsed google translate for arabic whoops sorry not sorry <3 also its been a while since i wrote.

Warnings/tags: reader is g/n, yandere Alhaitham, Alhaitham x reader, stalking, paranoia, obsessive themes, very very subtle mentions of blood (if you squint), kind of drawn out? Horrible arabic google translate quote. Probably OOC but you can ignore that

------

You admit, being an asisstant isn't so bad.

Of course, at first when you broke the announcement to your parents you wanted to further your studies at the Akademiya, your parents werent approving. They wanted you to get a cushy job and earn as soon as possible; you don't blame them. Having that life sounds peaceful, however, you think delaying it a bit won't hurt. You haven't had the proper chance to really scour the library at your own leisure, at least, not as a student.

So, while job-hunting, (which was wonderfully disrupted by the huge Archon-Overthrow-play-god plan for a good few weeks,) you got an offer as the Asisstant of the Grand Sage; which was suspicious from how good of a title it was. The Akademiya was desperate to get back on it's feet, and who were you to deny the offer?

Of course, it didn't quite occur to you until the first day of your job you'd be working alongside Alhaitham, the scribe of the Akademiya (and perhaps his infamous title as the one who curated a plan to foil Azar's shenanigans).

Which was fine. He was generally alright,if not great to work with. Straightforward, clear, brief, analytical and most of all – he wasn't pushy. Which was a relief, of course. You managed to make small talk from time to time (if you could really call it that,) and came to a consensus with him on many things, mostly that both of you were not pleased with overtime. The moment the clock hit 5:00 PM, both of you were out of your offices and posts. You were mutually respectful, and generally tolerated each other well.

Of course, things at your job got shaken up when your schedule was thrown off balance. Your favorite drink always ran out, your mornings were crowded and somehow you started showing up later than usual, which meant you went home later aswell (much to your dismay).

Another strange series of events started taking place, if you could even call it that. You swear you haven't been watering the plants in front of your home, and the soil is dry enough, so how are they so.. vibrant? And recently, you swear one of the plants is growing a little too much, basically covering one of the windows, threatening to break it. Sticky notes scattered around the front of your house which you originally thought of as littering from those raucous kids your neighbours can't keep in control – you only realised they were for you when you caught a glimpse of your name on it, and you can only agree with the suspicious look on your friends’ faces when you show them the notes – bright Canary yellow and the striking red colour across the notes (although, you've only shown them the more milder ones. You can't imagine the panic you'll be forced to acknowledge if they see some of the other.. strange ones.)

And you suppose your paranoia has caught up to you. Your sleep-deprived mind swears that new red coloured bottle of ink on Alhaitham's desk wasn't there. You swear he never used that bright Canary Yellow colour of post-its. Did he really like that drink he always seemed to get for both of you? It conveniently ran out when you wanted it, and even more so, he conveniently just brought an extra since it was on discount? Of course it all just seems like a coincidence. You're a fool to even think otherwise.

And well, you're fine. Your life has always been a long series of fine, even with the occasional weird mishaps. That's how it's always been, and you don't intend to change it; rather, you really do find change almost repulsive (save for the panic you felt deep down in your stomach at all the things you couldn't control). And that “fine” comes to a halt when you find your door absolutely mauled with sticky notes. There's a bouquet of Sumeru Roses at the bottom, as if to try and apologise sheepishly for the terrifying collage on your door. The terrifying numbness in your fingers, face, your brows furrowed as you can't decide just how to react, the elevated heartbeat – you swear you can feel the blood threaten to burst through your chest.

You opted to stay with a friend that night. You don't know what you were expecting when you came back in the morning, and all of those notes were gone, except a singular one in the middle, “الهوس والحب مترادفان، لكنهما لا يقارنان بارتباط روحي بروحك” (which you had to reread almost 30 times with your broken arabic, checked with someone from the Haravatat Darshan, to really confirm – obsession and love are synonyms, but they are nothing compared to the connection of my soul to yours – is what it said, and it's echoed in your head for weeks). You can't remember the last time you wore your rose perfume after that.

Scouring in the House Of Daena didn't seem to alleviate your troubles that well, either. The books you read one day, and opted to continue the next – vanished. Someone else always had the upper hand. And when they returned, they were scribbled and annotated with many pockets of information. Sometimes they overshadow the information on the page itself. And on the rare occasion you put your head on the books as a makeshift pillow for a power nap, you jolted up from just a sniff. Sumeru roses hit your nose.

And of course, when you find notes with all different handwritings on your desk in the office, you think someone's playing a cruel prank on you. But your office was locked. No one saw anyone enter your office. You did your usual check up before you locked it last night, and assorted everything in place. None of these notes were here. And of course, your only clue is the fact they're all Canary Yellow post-its, and that striking scarlet red ink on it. Hasn't the bottle on Alhaitham's desk been running out? He mentioned it off-handedly. You remember saying blue ink was cheaper. He didn't respond.

–

overtime was disdainful, for the lack of a better word. However, that implies only to the masses – it is no problem for him to come up with better synonyms to describe the situation at hand. “Distasteful”, “loathsome”, “detestable”, and so on. However, complaining will not solve the stacks of files on his desk that he wishes to do away with as soon as possible.

If anything pleases him more than his usual combination of abstruse books, isolation from the general public, and extreme individuality, it is that as the Grand Sage's assistant – you are expected to stay back for the extended hours as much as he is, if not more. For once, working overtime (or being forced to) has brought him progress. Will a few more hours of scribbling away and reviewing files change anything huge? He will return to his post again tomorrow as he has today, and the work will continue. Although, this time, it is you who stays working overtime. So for once, if it manages to quiet down the poking and prodding of other nosy scholars, reprimanding him for never working even a minute after the allocated time, he does so for the exchange of working with you.

And he doesn't intend to burden you, but he knows the desperation you work with, trying your best to cram in any minute, second into trying to get ahold of those books at the House Of Daena. So, if at least to make you stay for longer, he assigns you the more dragged out, tedious work. And to make it better – you just got locked out of your office. He has an extra pair, which he diligently uses for his own interest. As for you; perhaps being so frantic and scrambling to gather all books you might have read the day before may have caused you to drop your keys somewhere along the way. Would he know? Of course – he's diligently collected and added it to his inventory. Would he tell you? It would be like stepping on his own tail. The lack of certainty in a schedule makes for more freedom – he thinks. It's for your own good; he almost says. And to have you work in the same proximity as him? It's a bonus.

Many consider him to be talented and extraordinarily intelligent, so just take his advice as literally as you can. Or maybe he just needs to tell you directly while making small talk between you two more frequent. To his dismay (and your absolute horror), the sticky notes seem to be working counterproductively. Perhaps he should just show up at your house with a bouquet of Sumeru roses and a small journal filled with his advice? He jests, it's only an entertaining idea. The bewildered look on your face makes him adore you – even if only imaginative.

The lift stops at the top floor. He sees your figure standing beside his desk, an expanse of books behind you. The sharp yellow lights contrast your figure to the dim blue light sphere in the middle. He feels the corners of his mouth perk up into a smile,and stops himself.

Another overtime shift for the both of you.

—

Overtime was not easy. You wouldn't have minded it – the job pays you well, and its quite comfortably tucked into the Akademiya, where no one bothers you, and you can easily access the House of Daena. However, the stress and paranoia has absolutely drained you.

You've visited the matra recently. Frantically scraping together whatever evidence you can, everytime your “admirer” decided to gift you something new, leaving almost no time in your schedule. Daily visits to the library turned into constant visits to the matra, detailing your issues. You would have opted to stay silent, brushing it off as someone who was.. weirdly shy. But shy people don't stalk you, shy people don't leave obsessive notes for you, shy people don't visit your house at unholy hours of the night. And who knows what else this stalker of yours has been up to recently?

Revenge bedtime procrastination turned into sleepless nights, flinching at every sound, hiding under the covers until there was no oxygen and your entire face was covered in sweat. Workload seemed to increase, from how often you kept messing up, many things clouding your mind. Alhaitham's prickly eyes took notice, and he suggested drinking another beverage aside from coffee in the morning, and offered to get you something else – which you generously refused and turned down. (the last thing you would want to be is in someone else's debt at this time. Even if it's just a drink, who knows what else it could add up to in the future?)

So, here you were; irritated, on edge and in the dimly lit office which was viciously devoid of any natural light. You wonder why someone would want such a stuffy office, with books probably growing mold inside. Sure, it's spacious, but it's utter lack of life in it repulses you. It has the comfort level of a hospital waiting room, and it's just enough to add onto the little things that bother you, on top of everything else.

If that wasn't any better – Alhaitham seemed particularly chatty this evening. Perhaps his parasitic roommate (whom he has lovingly mentioned, multiple times,) has been ignoring him as of late? Maybe a commission in the desert, or a commission that requires a huge amount of unnecessary labour? And the (Acting) Grand Scribe has mentioned several times how the blonde architect works himself almost half to death just to get a smile out of his customers. You painstakingly understand him in silence, and don't comment on it.

The rest of the night continues – the benignity of it isn't lost on you. Occasionally perking up from your own scribbling upon Alhaitham's call, searching for a specific book on the vast (dusty, if you may add) shelves, and commenting on a few meeting topics and research projects he grazes, assigning you a few. He doesn't miss the comical dragging of your feet as you walk back over to your desk, befuddled with more work. He wants to tease you, he wants you to ask him for help, for an extra bottle of ink, for an extra post it note, whatever way in which you ask for his help.

He theorises you don't remember much of your and his student days.

—

“shit, I forgot them.”

You searched the familiar pockets and zips of your bag, scrunched eyebrows in frustration.

“Seriously? I'm not lending you any of mine~”

Your friend laughed. You sigh.

“I let you hog all my lunch and this is what I get as a thank you?”

“Too bad. You don't like the blue coloured ones anyway.”

“I'm desperate for a sticky note. Does it look like I'm in a state to be picky?”

Your friend laughs again, and throws their little compact stack of post-its on your book.

“Fine. But you've already annotated so much, what are you gonna write about?”

“Hmm? Wouldn't you like to know?”

You playfully ignore them, as they chitter behind you; carefully sticking it into your textbook and scribbling down the information before you forget. You sigh and look up. You make eye contact.

Right. It's him.

The grey-haired Haravatat boy that rarely showed up. Everyone knew him for his quiet attitude, and his tendency to make your professor's blood boil due to his absence in every lecture. Your friends had a few inside jokes about him. You would dare say this is your first encounter, or really the only one, with him. A stoic look and a judgmental one at the same time, behind curiously multicoloured eyes.

Nearing the end of the semester – usually the smart ones would avoid the house of Daena, as it would overflow with study groups of caffeine-run seniors and freshman alike. Some of the other clever ones chose spots that weren't easy to find in the first place, and some chose to simply come early.

The thing is, you didn't come early. You were here from midnight. The librarian and all the security checks probably missed you, since you were neatly tucked away into the corner, taking a well-needed nap on one of your reference materials. You only woke up when one of your friends, and that boy poked and prodded you. Your friend laughed until they were out of breath when you looked up – drool slipping down past your chin, eyes swollen from the lack of sleep (and the incessant crying of an academic student), handwriting illegible from just how drowsy you were. The boy only stood quietly, probably judging your.. mannerisms. You weren't sure how, or why, he sat down at the same table as you and your friend.

—-

Every once in a while - Alhaitham does use the sticky notes.

He didn't buy them. He wanted to borrow them for a short second, but in your hurry, you gave him the compact stack and left, never looking back. After that, you never got them back. Neither of you had the time, and your fate simply intertwined for a brief moment. Things like these happen.

But you keep appearing in the crowd.

He sees you in a flurry of students, or alone at a desolate desk. On a high-up ladder reaching an impossibly reachable book, crouching down to pick up the several you dropped in the process. Passing by the dull lecture halls as he slipped into the library, following the reference materials his father recommended, picked out neatly from private journals and books. The yellow sticky notes never served him much purpose after a single use. He debated simply keeping them on your desk the next time he saw you, but never quite worked up the courage. He swore the sumeru rose scent gave him a headache.

So, when he heard you were continuing your studies at the Akademiya, he was pleased. Working as a Scribe was a simple job, and his chances of seeing you just increased. And he may have been too ambitious, but it worked greatly in his favour – as he opened up another Assistant role for you.

He hums, content with his decision to keep the sticky notes. Now - how would he utilise them? He wonders if you remember that friend's handwriting. Simple notes turned into obsessive confessions.

Once in a while turned into almost everyday, the more he observed you.

His obsession alone could become the subject of his own studies – but for now you are his sole interest.

And the next overtime, his first after returning to his post as the Scribe – he decides to finally close the chapter.

Has your perfume always been this sweet? That headache's been catching up to you. All that worrying and panic.. when was the last time you slept?

He opens the door to his office. You stand under the warm light, horrified. Piles of sticky notes crowd your feet. The wall barely peeks through behind you from the sticky notes. He closes the door, and a flurry of them fall from the movement. Both of you stare at each other.

“Alhaitham?”

You remember looking at the collection of sticky notes you'd received over a period of time. Is the red ink turning brown? You swore the color changed. Is it supposed to smell? You don't think you want to know.

“Congratulations. You've made it this far. Ive been waiting to talk to you in private."

Your arms go limp, dropping the stack of files onto the floor. The clock ticks silently. You should have gone home. Your bad habit of staying past closing time and evading the security seemed to have not worked in your favour this time.

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#al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #yandere alhaitham #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #al haithem #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n

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deepfrost-citadel · 10 months

Text

"You know," Xisuma said, peering cautiously over Cub's shoulder at the museum's latest addition, "When you said you wanted to show me a new exhibit, I wasn't expecting…" He trailed off.

Evil Xisuma glowered at him from inside their enclosure.

"…This."

To say Evil X looked a little miffed about the situation would be an understatement. At least Cub had done a nice job decorating, Xisuma thought, between the blackstone and crimson wood, Evil X looked right at home - if they weren't sitting grumpily in their 2-by-1 lava pool, surrounded by the mangled remains of whatever Cub had put in there for enrichment.

"Surprise!" Cub grinned, doing jazz hands at the enclosure, "I know what you might be thinking-"

Xisuma doubted that somehow.

"- 'Cub, Evil Xisuma hasn't done anything this season! They aren't a historic artefact! They shouldn't be in a museum!' But!" Cub wagged a finger triumphantly, "They are important to the history of Hermitcraft as a whole. So really, if you think about it, they definitely belong in a museum."

"… Okay?"

"Glad we're on the same page."

Xisuma wasn't sure if anyone was ever on the same page as Cub. Except maybe Scar.

"Now! As you can see, I've been decorating their enclosure, trying to add some interactive elements for guests and such." Cub pointed towards a line of redstone lamps at the top of Evil Xisuma's enclosure, "These show you how much electricity they're generating when they do their lightning hands thing. I'll be honest with you, it's broken a few times already so it's still a work in progress-"

"… Is that what all the lightning rods are for?" Xisuma frowned, eyeing the entirely lightning rod-ed ceiling.

"It is indeed!" Cub said, ignoring the twinge of concern in Xisuma's voice, "Well, a little. Mostly it's a safety thing, it wouldn't be good to have guests being electrocuted, now would it?"

"I suppose not… And it definitely works?"

"Oh yeah, it's been very thoroughly tested. Hey, Evil Xisuma," Cub walked up to the glass and tapped on it a few times, much to Xisuma's silent horror, "Wanna show X how the lightning rods work?"

In response, Evil Xisuma stuck their middle finger up at him and yelled something muffled to almost inaudibility that sounded a little like: "When I get out of here, I'm going to rip your head off and use it as a coffee mug, you stupid e-boy twink."

The pair on the other side of the glass blinked.

"… That's a no then." Cub turned back to Xisuma, "They do this a lot."

"They certainly do," Xisuma nodded faintly.

"You can probably tell the glass is uh... Mostly noise-cancelling, had to install that because Helsknight is in the next enclosure over and he's still hibernating. You know how Wels gets when you wake him up early, don't wanna find out how that guy is."

"… Of course," Xisuma sighed, pinching the nose bridge of his helmet, "Do I want to know how you got hold of those two?"

Cub laughed in the slightly unhinged way that gave Xisuma visions of Cub spending several weeks toying with the evil hermits as he hunted them for sport, "Nah man, it's not an interesting story."

Somehow, Xisuma doubted that.

"Anyway," Cub said, changing the topic before Xisuma could ask if he knew there was still someone's blood on his left sleeve, "What I really called you for is that I need an Evil Xisuma expert, and you're the man to ask about all things Evil Xisuma."

"Except for Evil Xisuma."

"Except for Evil Xisuma, yes." Cub nodded sagely, "So. Obviously I wanna make sure everything is nice for our new residents, give them plenty of enrichment and all that, but it hasn't been working out so far."

"I can see that."

"Soo… Any suggestions? What kind of thing does Evil X like? Food? Blocks? I dunno, fake derpcoin or something?"

Xisuma hummed, tilting his head in thought as he gazed at Evil Xisuma, who had clambered out of the lava pool to press their hands against the glass and give Xisuma the saddest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes their LED screen could muster (which, admittedly, were very sad and pathetic) in a silent plea to not leave them here with that madman, they'll be good for realsies this time they promise-

"Well," Xisuma said, turning to Cub, "They like to knit, so maybe they'd like some wool… Oh! And if you can find any old Wormman merch, they'll love that too."

Evil Xisuma's head hit the glass with a despairing thunk.

#hermitcraft #xisuma #cubfan135 #evil xisuma #my writing #dont ask me what possessed me to write this the answer is i have no idea #anyway the museum continues to contain both normal things and creatures

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pomefioredove · 24 days

Note

In my bones I know that Rook is the type of guy who loves to go exploring be it forest or man-made structures. With that in mind I have an idea for a fic:

MC!Reader & Rook Hunt making weekend dates out of exploring the unknown places on Sage Island. It's their little ritual that they take great joy in! From the restricted sections of Crowley's office to a small abandoned island off the coast they enjoy taking in sights meant for no-one else.

ROOK REQUEST!!! thank you I love him so muchhh... the fact that archeology becomes an interest of his is so adorable to me <3 rook baby let me take you out and tell you about the incan empire and dead languages and

summary: weekend dates with rook type of post: fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, french warning, fluffy and cute <3

"One thousand words, one thousand, can you believe that?" you ask, twirling a perfectly-sharpened pencil between your fingers. It had yet to even graze the surface of the paper in your lap.

What a waste of wood.

You slump, leaning against the rough bark of an oak tree. A movement in the foliage overhead sends a deluge of leaves onto your lap, coloring the white of the empty paper with vibrant shades of green.

Rook emerges from the verdure above with a graceful plunk at your side.

"Five hundred each, chéri," he says, picking a leaf out of your hair and ignoring the ones on the notebook.

You tilt your head to the side, watching as he scales the tree again. "Yes, but I was under the impression we'd do it together,"

"Ah, a marvelous idea!" his voice calls out from overhead. "But that can wait for later, non? Come up and see this robin's nest I've uncovered!"

You chuckle. Even with the deadline looming nearer, you couldn't help but indulge him.

Crowley's words still rung fresh in your mind: "Five hundred words on the evil of trespassing. Each!"

Admittedly, seeing the man actually get angry was both amusing and unsettling. You supposed digging around the secret chamber behind his office was pushing it, but how could you resist Rook's charming smile when he said he'd found a trap door and wished to explore it together?

How were you supposed to know that passage would end up in Crowley's office, anyway?

"Mm?" Rook's head pokes out from the leaves again. "Are you coming, Trickster?"

You had begun to fill out that nickname quite nicely.

You set aside the pencil and paper (still untouched) in favor of scaling the lowest branches of the tree. You'd become quite the climber since meeting Rook.

"Ah, the way you so carelessly toss aside your obligations, as if freeing yourself from the shackles of the modern world!" Rook sings, offering a hand to help you onto the branch he's sat atop.

You can't help a smile as he guides you onto the thick part of the branch in front of him. "It was rather symbolic, wasn't it?"

"Chéri, if only I had the time, I would write a poem for every little thing you do," he sighs dreamily. "Come, miel, join me in being wild."

He cups your chin and guides your gaze to a curve where two branches meet, only an arm's-length away. Nestled in the heart of it is a small, delicate, cup-shaped nest, filled with baby blue eggs.

"Très magnifique," he comments, his voice breathless and soft. "The miracle of life. A sign that spring has returned once more, putting Monsieur L'Hiver to rest."

"They are beautiful... will they hatch soon?"

"Ah, that depends on how you define "soon". Robins incubate for but two weeks," he says. "Soon for us, but half a lifetime for them..."

His ensuing sigh is soft and contented, almost distracting you from the feeling of his arms finding their way around your waist, and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Mm... I could stay here all day. Have you slept in a tree before, chéri?"

You've learned by now not to take such comments as jokes, although you're sure he already knows what the answer is.

You smile, your sweet tone tinged with the faintest hint of mischief. "No, not recently,"

"It has been a long time for me. Sometimes I fear I've become too domesticated... c'est bien I have you to bring out the wild animal in me again, hm?"

He chuckles to himself before promptly burying his face in the crook of your neck again, breathing you in.

You lean back into him, earning a little squeeze from his arms. Perhaps you could stay here all day, if not for...

"The essay..." you murmur.

Rook laughs again. "It can wait. I will gladly chance the ire of our headmage and my housewarden..." he clicks his tongue. "Taking risks for you is a delight I cannot help but indulge in."

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #rook hunt x reader #queued

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tiyoin · 1 month

Note

Hiii this is the first time I’ve sent in an ask so I’m a little nervous but your work especially twisted anxiety🌀 just makes me feral❤️ (also feel free to delete this if I make you uncomfortable)

But twst🌀reader being good at sing has got me in a choke hold, it feels very princess coded lol

I mean 🌀reader has grim, so they have an animal companion, they can sing🎶, they have a ‘prince’ the twst boys+yuu and they have a curse! anxiety‼️

This idea has just been giving me so much brain-rot I had to share it with you<3, and don’t forget to take care of yourself because I know how hard making & writing is so have a nice day/night

WELCOME ANON 🫶

and dont worry!! im not uncomfortable in any way, and I apperciate you looking out for my comfortably, truly.

and im so glad you like twisted anxiety!!🙈

but holy shit I never thought about reader being princess coded CAUSE YOU'RE SO RIGHT???

I DONT KNOW WHY THIS HASNT OCCURRED TO ME

THINKING ABOUT MANAGER 🌀 READER AT THE VDC FOR SOME REASON ATTRACTING ROYAL SWORD STUDENTS????

yeah 🌀 is very closed off, not looking at people in favor of the ground, hovering around other manager yuu and the rest of the nrc squad.

but that just makes the rsa students go 👁️👁️

reader is freaked out and starting to get paranoid that everyone is watching them and that there must be something wrong with them. is there something on their face? does this uniform make them look fat? is there sweat stains on their back?? arm pits?? oh god can they see their underwear?? and they're clinging to yuu like a life line

(yuu doesn't mind because they're just happy that reader is clinging to them so yuu can keep an eye on them hehe🤭)

of course vil sets reader off to cool down because he can't have their manager bring anxiety to the rest of the performers. so they go to get food!

until they bump into an rsa student...

"oh sorry, I didn't see you there!" all while they're staring at you like this:

LIKE SIR BACK AWAY!!

reader coming back to the vdc crew with a thousand yard stare as they're clutching a churro.

going back to singing reader,

maybe they're in their little hiding place the woods just letting their feelings out. maybe they go a little too far and wonder onto RSA property (hypothetically because I dont know how far away the schools are. but if it's far... they take a magical little short cut that chenya uses to sneak on over 🤭)

or maybe rsa guys are doing a 'test of courage' and are sneaking tot he woods of nrc. MAYBE THEY'RE EVEN PLAYING A SCHOOL PRANK TO START A PRANKING WAR-

but one of you are in the wrong woods and the rsa guys hear and see you singing. while yes, 75% of the population is some kind of nobility they know that there aren't any princesses here. especially on sage island.

but maybe you are?? because you're a girl, you're singing about true love, the animals seem to like you, you're wearing a.. dress? a robe, even. and you look so good 🙈

and when they see you- oh no! you saw them first!

its like the fucking hunt from snow white HASDBIWEUFB they're chasing after you and you're literally trying not to scream or cry

oh god everything is so much more amplified. and luckily you escape and race into ramshackle like your life depend on it (because it did.)

AND OH MY GOD YOU ALMOST GOT MURDERED!!!

but the rsa boys are gushing and spreading rumors of a beautiful ghostly girl who sings for her true love in the forest... BROTHER WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT???

so much lore to the twisted anxiety saga, and so little motivation to map and write it all out 😔

#ANON YOURE TRULY A GENIUS #CAN I POP THROUGH THE SCREEN RQ AND GIVE YOU A FAT SMOOCH #twisted anxiety 🌀#twst x reader #tiyoin’s cuties 。　 ඞ 。#tiyoin 🔎#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #ive lowkey gotta make a solid plan for twisted anxiety because ive just been going off of impulse HASHDAIUDB

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yourlocalstranger123 · 1 year

Text

Part 1

characters: Nahida, zhongli, Raiden/Ei, Scaramouche/wanderer, Xiao/alatus, Venti, dottore, Albedo, aether/lumine/traveler and abyss prince/princess, dainsleif, azhdaha, miko, celestial

Note: I put the celestials and zhongli even though I already did them because I forgot to put in what they would do if you finally are in Teyvat. Also, some characters don't have their own section, just in someone's else. [Like Miko in Ei's]

Warning: Some have slight NSFW, but technically, it's mostly SFW, slight yandere or maybe just full on yandere and obsessed. Idk-

[They all wonder why you're calling them your baby girl(s)—]

Celestials might be a little greedy for trying to convince or guilt trap you to stay with them a bit longer.....

Zhongli. [ I know I already did zhongli, but I didn't put in what happened when you finally got into teyvat] he was so thrilled. If he was in his dragon body, his tail would've been wagging like a dog. His knees became weak by your presence. He just wanted you to touch him. He finally felt the warmth...although azhdaha just had to steal you from him! He also had a dragon form, so why don't you ask him to transform into it? You could see him in a corner with a slight frown [pout]. At least he gets head pats. [He'll get spoiled sooner or later 🤭]

Xiao. He was loyal to zhongli for sure, but you? He is obsessed with you. When he was alatus, you were the light who he always kept precious. You gave him warmth all those torturous years. You were the reason he could endure it before zhongli had finally saved him from it. He didn't know you were the creator. But when he finally knew, he was so happy. You were always with him, giving everyone hope and the same warmth that you gave him to the others and his friends. Why are you keeping giving him tofu to summon him? He's so very grateful for your cooking and thoughts, but you don't need to. Just call his name with your beautiful voice. You still do it though, which makes him slightly flustered as you can see the tips of his ears go red as he greets you. He was so, SO flustered and shy when you let him on your lap and hug you or lay on it. His eyes went heavy as he closed them. The first time in his whole life, he had a wonderful dream....(of you)

Nahida. Honestly, she felt really happy with you. Even when she was locked away, she felt you reaching for her. She still could feel the warmth, and that's why she's still having hope for someone to save her. Since she is literally the god of knowledge, she already knew you were the creator. Honestly, when you finally went to Teyvat, she didn't expect to be your child suddenly. Although she's not complaining! She loves it when you smother her with your parently love. [You totally did not try to beat the soul out of the grand sages for locking her up, and people, even some of the archons, had to hold you down-]

Ei would be concerned. Who was interfering with her eternity? She didn't know how to react. She always some what felt guilty whenever she did the vision hunt degree. She ignored it all, though. Until when the traveler showed her the beauty of inazuma. It was so different from what it was before...'Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.' She thought. She had noticed that one thing that stayed the same forever was the warmth she felt. She soon found out the warmth was from the creator! Oh, she was so happy. She would make a room that would eternity be dedicated to you! When you appeared in Teyvat, she would be so dang nervous. She wants to be perfect for you. Everything must be! She was going to send Raiden in her place but didn't expect you to personally come over to her! She tried giving you a tour, but she didn't really go outside much, so....yeah, you're technically giving her one instead.. but at least you enjoy braiding her hair for her as Miko is sitting on your lap in her fox form. She's very fluffy when you pet her. [She would be so embarrassed and will malfunction if you ask how she can pull out her sword from her—]

Scaramouche would try to hunt you down honestly. Like who tf are you?? And where the heck are you?? (Imagine you haunt him and keep whispering, "You're shorttt") he was so ready to beat the crap out of you. But he just had to get used to it since he was busy becoming a God. And when he did, he felt your presence once again but clearer. He again ignores it and continues with the fight, which comes with a loss. He had become wanderer now, and he told Nahida that he thinks someone is stalking him. Nahida finally tells him that you're the all mighty creator. So you have been with him this whole time...? Why? He wonders If you forgive him for his sins.... why were you....calling him scarameow?? Is that perhaps another language for something? What does it mean? But it's fine. He still loves you. He got jealous one time and became a 'doll' for your entertainment. He's been doing that a few times. He liked it when one time you manhandled danced with him or even dressed him up [with lingerie]

Oh Venti, that drunkard bard. Oh, how he always speaks about you. He loved you so much. You always played as the wind when he was just a spirit. He always talked to you, although you can't talk, the wind tells him everything. He loved you so dearly. You always protected him in the war. You protected all the people. He understands that you can't stop people from dying of age. It's fate. But you had always accompanied him and his friend. That's all he needs, and he's grateful for it. He already knew you were the creator. The wind tells him everything. He didn't think that he would accidentally make the creator drunk! He promised he was drunk when he offered a drink to you! Or when he falls happily on your lap and arms by falling from the tree that was surrounded by a cat. [He also didn't expect the wonderful view of you on the side of the bed.....naked.....wait, WHAT— [ I mean...he's not complaining besides not having the ability to walk...or think anything besides you and how good you fu—]

Oh dottore. At first, he did not at all care about you. Even when worshipping the creator was public and a thing, he wasn't exactly dedicated. Until he found some ancient script of mechanics and bunch of successful experiments of creatures you did. He did some research and it turns out that those creatures was friendly to you and you did those experiments not so gruesome. So that's why they didn't hold a grudge at you. He became more interested and now it's apart of the research he's doing. And even experiments perhaps. He didn't know thr warm fuzzy feeling in his chest when he saw you smile in those ancient script. Although he may have kept it all a secret until all of the harbingers [except scaramouche because this is the time where he erases himself from all memories] finally found out about it. Oh how he felt when he finally gazes at your body. You looked so much better in the script. He always seek you out for experiments and research. You have the knowledge that even Irminsul doesn't have. Although his constant touch, glances and the way he looks at you with a slight red face doesn't go unnoticed by you when he conduct an experiment on you. [He couldn't forget the 'experiment' conduct on you last night ♥︎]

○ —○ — ○ — experimenters— ○ —○ — ○ — ○

Albedo. He's exactly opposite from dottore at the start, he was obsessed with you. He worshiped you with so many new creations from his experiments and thanked you for uniting him with Klee. At first, he didn't know about you and was curious why he always felt a comforting presence until aunt Alice told him that it was you, their creator, his creator.

He found statues of you that were cracked and was leaking a certain gold liquid. There was scroll. It seems that you made it with your own blood. He researched your statue and conducted careful experiments. He was a little...too fascinated about your body. Drawing you in robes, poses, and even....drew doing stuff to him. He took such care and worshiped it as if it was really you.... you looked way more divine than the statue that you carved yourself. He always wanted you to ask you....."What's the purpose of me existing?"

[You can insert your thoughts if you want, but here's my response to it]

"(1.) There's none. You just exist. I just create you. But...(2.) You can make yourself a purpose. A reason to live out your lives I gave you all. Like you, perhaps you make your own purpose to live is to make Klee happy."

His eyes glinted as you chuckled. He had been in deep thought for a few weeks. Then suddenly, he smiled. 'Perhaps.....'

Dottore and Albedo would 10/10 would be literal vampires. Including zhongli, I swear. The moment they taste your blood as an experiment or accident, they will crave for more. (I know they will literally moan in delight when they tasted it.)

Traveler and abyss prince/princess. How they both felt it. Your warmth. Traveler accepts it with open arms. Traveler thanked you for supporting them to find their sibling. But the abyss prince/princess isn't so fond about accepting it. They don't need your pity.... but they guess they can take it once in a while, you did offer to them, didn't you? Oh, Dainsleif. He doesn't think he should accept it. He wants to, but he is not worthy. But once in a while, when he falls asleep, his lips curve into a smile as he bask in your warmth. They can be selfish, right? You did offer you warmth after all..... The abyss prince/princess tries to kidnap— I mean *cough* *cough* take you away but the Traveler holds onto your arm, not letting go. The abyss prince/princess argues that when the time comes after they finally finish their journey, they can find a home with you! But the traveler pouts and still won't budge. Dainsleif just watches in the background, conflicted. Although....that doesn't mean he didn't have the desire to keep you with him either...

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writinginthetwilight · 2 months

Text

Knock, knock.

Neighbour!Eddie Munson x Neighbour!Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone. AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Nightmares. Negative self talk. Horror-esk/creepy vibes. See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Authors note: He's finally here, in the flesh.. ish. Thank you for all the love on the last part. Officially out of the introduction and into the meat of this creepy lil story.

Find @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing full prompt list here including the one that birthed this weird little world I'm making.

6. You move into a new apartment and soon discover that you share a wall with a very noisy neighbor. Loud laughter, talking, and music are a constant companion. When you decide to go over and knock on their door to confront them in person, you find that the apartment is unoccupied and has been for months.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Love you and hope you're being kind to yourself, okay bye.

Part 4: Conspiracies made through the hardwood.

The smell is nostalgic.

In every home you lived in, in your formative adult life, the introduction had been followed by the earthy smell of burning sage, whisps curling in draughty apartments and catching the light in shared dorm rooms.

Tina, your college roommate insisted on every room being scrubbed down and smudged before you unpacked.

You'd since lost touch, but you still kept the tradition of scrubbing places head to toe when you moved in and now you can't help but wonder, had you kept smudging your homes could some of the negativity in your life have been avoided.

You aren't dead.

After the momentary spiral the other night you had righted yourself from entertaining the idea.

Ghosts didn't eat, sleep, pay rent.

Go to work.

What a fucked up purgatory it would be if you had to spend eternity listening to Shona chew at her desk while desperately waiting for payday.

But it didn't stop the rattle in your bones as you'd unplugged the radio, fetched it away from the wall and fitfully slept on the couch.

You tried to explain that night away, the note was easy, a neighbour was trying to scare you, it was a prank, a bad joke.

But the radio.

You scoured the internet for hours looking for reasons as to why you had picked up what was playing on the radio next door.

It's fairly common apparently, to pick up signals from elsewhere, but you're lost in jargon.

HAM radios, the chatter of people talking over radio waves, inanimate objects picking up signals and freaking people out.

Nothing quite fits, and the rabbit hole ends in bad ghost hunting videos and advertisements for spirit boxes.

So, you call Charlie again, under the guise of fixing the faucet. The noise from next door’s not outrageous by your own relatively low standards but enough to show that next door isn't vacant.

He's exactly as he was the day you met him, with a wide smile and bright eyes, you try your best to match it, despite the dark circles hidden beneath thickly applied concealer.

He hums and haws at the pipes and you can hear humming clearly from above you as he tinkers with them.

He's chatting to you absent-mindedly about a place downtown that sells the best cubans he's ever eaten, asking if you've been to various spots around the area yet.

He's not acknowledging the noise.

Even when laughter and the TV starts he just continues on until he finally catches you staring angrily up at the scar.

“Still giving you trouble?”

He can't hear him.

You can tell by the way he phrased it, as a genuine question not a reaction to the noise.

“I thought I could maybe still hear someone in number 5?”

He chuckles. “Taking a look around spooked you huh? “

“No, just the noise.” you wave above your head, all subtlety lost in the interaction.

He doesn't even glance up.

“Honey, there's no keyhole on that door, only way someone's getting in is scaling the walls or breaking down the door.”

He pats your arm reassuringly, then moves turning the faucet on and off again as the water runs smoothly out.

“Good as new.”

You're not dead.

But maybe he is.

So, here you stand white sage and lavender burning in your hand on a Wednesday night, desperate for something to work.

Step 1. Introduce yourself.

“Hello, Eddie.”

“I'm,” You take a deep breath and let your name slip out, despite the conflicting information online as to whether it's a good idea. “and this is my apartment.”

The silence hangs for a moment. You know he's there, can hear soft distant sounds of movement.

This is so fucking stupid.

You flick through the multitudes of tabs open on your laptop.

Step 2. Acknowledge they were here first.

“I know this is your home too, and you were here first but-”

“ I'm not dead.”

The voice echoes and warps down to you and you feel your stomach roll at the sound, quickly you scroll, there isn't anything about them talking back.

“You, might not know but this apartment was split-”

There's a nervous laugh that cuts you off.

“Yeah, whatever you are, you need to leave. This is my apartment.”

You try again but can't get a word in and you can feel frustration building, rolling up your back and making your jaw clench as he talks over you.

“Look, a maintenance guy changed the locks on room 5 the other day.”

He's not listening, and you increase your volume, trying to explain, the calm and gentle candence is gone, your voice now shrill and foreign to your own ears.

“So either your fucking with me and you're somewhere else or you're the one who's dead so if you would kindly leave me the fuck alone.”

You're practically yelling now, and you almost fall from where you've scaled the kitchen counter when there's a knock at the door.

He's still yelling.

It can't be him.

You walk hunched, heart pounding, anger still coursing through you. You're not sure if you want it to be him, if he's there in the flesh then you're not losing your mind at least.

But if he is, then you're about to be faced with an irate man who's just been screaming at you through the walls.

You latch the chain, and it rattles at the force needed to open it.

A woman a good decade older than you stands arms crossed with a scowl on her face that your mother would be proud of. Behind her shoulder, a man stands with an apologetic look on his face.

You recognise them vaguely, he was one of the few who had given you a small smile as you moved in when you passed them, she had not.

“Hi? Can I-”

“I don't know what's happening in there but do you think it's acceptable to be yelling at almost 11 pm?”

She sounds like your mother too.

The urge to ask them if they can hear him is fleeting and the only response you can muster is to press your lips into a hard line.

“If it carries on I'm making a formal complaint.”

You can feel your temper still simmering and don't trust yourself with any sincere retort so merely murmur your apologies and close the door on them.

She knocks again, obviously unhappy with your lacklustre response and you can hear the man trying to reason with her as you lean your forehead against the door.

No longer yelling, the sound of him moving around remains.

The rough surface of the door is grounding as you squeeze your eyes closed.

You can't live like this.

But there's a stone in the bottom of your stomach.

The rent really was a steal, and with at least another 6 months on your lease, probation at your job still ongoing, you're going to have to.

You can't go home, not after the arguments and upheaval.

The scene you made.

People who would welcome you back were still in the group chat, talking shit after sending their well wishes. The only real person who would sincerely welcome you back lives next door to your old home and that's not happening.

You’ll exist with your undead roommate, bury the feelings down.

You're good at it, pretending that you're fine.

You just hope eventually he leaves, so you don't have to, again.

The next week is, well, loud but you reinstate the headphones and earplugs that had accompanied you in your first few days and manage.

Living for the quiet moments in between the noise, they usually come in the early evening, the low light of lamps colouring the room in fire lit hues and podcasts on the speakers instead of headphones while you cook.

A sanctuary from the surreal.

Headphones in your pocket ready.

It's the exact state you're in when you hear the raucous sounds of a group entering next door, voices overlapping and unintelligible.

“You hear that right? Uh hello?”

This is new, he never actually acknowledged you.

He calls out your name and you pull the pan from the heat, cautiously walking around the counter to where the voices are loudest.

“It's Eddie.”

“Eddie dude.”

“Shh!”

Other dead people?

Maybe the whole building's haunted you muse, reaching over to give your dinner an idle stir, heat from the metal still lingering.

“Some people want to meet you.”

That gets your full attention, and you pause for a minute unsure if you should greet more spectors into your living quarters.

Surely it couldn't get worse.

“Hey, other dead people.”

“We're not.” he grits out "You heard that right, see?”

Silence

“ Eddie man-”

“ No, don't look at me like that.”

You frown hard at the ceiling, dots connecting but in no useful way.

They can't hear you, Charlie couldn't hear him.

“Letter, letter, I have a letter!” you can hear him scramble away leaving the concerned murmuring of the others in his absence.

“Look see I'm not crazy.”

More silence

“It's a noise complaint.”

“No, well yeah, but it's from them and-”

“Dude, why don't you go stay with Wayne for a while.”

He doesn't like that.

It sets off an argument that you try to track but the movement makes their voices pitch in and out.

They just want to help.

They're worried.

Just get out of the city for a bit.

A slam of the door.

“Eddie?”

It's tentative the way you say it, the silence loud.

You're not prepared for another shouting match but the desperation that was in his voice makes your chest ache, you can't just leave it, maybe you should, but he was an echo of how you would sound had you anyone here to tell.

“Nobody can hear you either.”

“I'm not dead.” The sudden sound comes from directly above you and makes you flinch, eyes snapping up.

“Neither am I.”

His voice goes an octave higher, already defensive, diving headfirst into a ramble that you can't quite catch as he paces and, once again you find that your voice is rising to match his.

You catch yourself this time though, not about to have to explain this to your landlord if you get an actual noise complaint.

So another note to your otherworldly pen pal it is.

I've almost gotten a noise complaint, so if we can stop screaming through the ceiling to each other that would be great.

Neither of us think we're dead, nobody else can hear the other.

My apartment was split. I went round to number 5 last week and they changed the locks.

It's been empty for years.

I don't know where you are but it's not next door.

You hear the front door open and close not long after you slip the note under and settle yourself crisscross on the floor to wait.

He's quiet, only small movements audible as you run clammy palms into the carpet at your sides, fibres scratching against your fingers.

There's the sound of his door opening, then the note edges its way under your own.

The page has indents in the top corner where an empty pen has been tried, the writing fading halfway down before it changes colour.

My locks work fine.

I called the landlord to see if I needed to wait that day, he said nobody had called him and it can't have been next door because it's empty.

Sure you're not dead? No bright lights, big tunnels calling you. Fire? I don't know, tiny red dudes with pitchforks. No judgement.

Also, I'm not shouting at the ceiling. Your voice has been floating around here like an invisible stalker for almost a month now.

No judgement. Fuck this guy.

Not dead.

No lights.

No tiny men.

So what is this?

You wait with the door latched this time peeking through, as a family passes by and you make accidental eye contact with one of the parents watching as they hurry the kids past.

You close the door quickly cringing, when there's a soft crinkle underfoot, your heart stutters at the sight of the note under your feet. This can't be real.

I propose 50 questions.

A sharp breath leaves you at the words, but maybe it's not the worst idea. You need to get a handle on this, need more information because currently you're flying blind.

Okay 50 questions, how long have you lived here?

Boring. 2 years. How many eyes do you have?

You laugh but then the idea that maybe you could be dealing with something other than a human makes you feel a little ill. A ghost is bad enough.

Two. You?

You snatch the note up when it comes through.

Two eyes. So human right? Two arms, two legs, head, ass, junk between your legs?

Thank God.

So were both human. That's a relief. This is harder than I thought it would be. Who's president?

Yeah? I was kind of hoping for alien contact myself. President’s Clinton. No supernatural abilities at all?

You frown at the note.

Hillary or Bill?

The family from before return with their takeout, catching you in the hall crouched and stuffing the note under the door, you try and smile casually, it's returned but you hear the youngest kid hushed when they ask their parents what you're doing.

Great, you're going to be that person in the building.

"You have to answer the question!" He yells in a singsong tone as you close the door and the odd stares from the family in the hall are enough for you to risk shouting back.

“What year is it?”

“The games no fun if it's one sided.”

You roll your eyes climbing on top of the kitchen counter. “Eddie?”

“1993.” The huff is evident in his voice but when you don't respond he calls out almost timidly.

“What year is it there?”

“2024.”

He asks a thousand questions straight away and you spend the next hour comparing music, media and anything else you can think of. There are slight differences, no traces of shows, bands and brands he talks about, too many to pass off as just being lost to the passage of time.

You can't even find Hawkins on Google earth, Indiana he says not Texas or Wisconsin.

He's never heard of your home town either but that's not surprising unless he has a detailed map of the continental US.

You explain the concept of googling to him for a good twenty minutes when he asks how you're getting all the information and you're worried you might have broken him from the sounds he makes when you tell him that people make a living playing dnd.

Then he's gone, abruptly, cursing about having to leave and already being late, leaving you wide eyed in the middle of your apartment.

You pad toward the letters that are discarded on the floor, fingers tips running over the indents on his words.

You take your phone out, take a photo and send it to Janet.

You can see these right?

Your phone’s on your chest when you wake, your last memories are that of a concerned Janet, informing you that you could come stay any time.

You'd played it down, explained a neighbour’s playing a prank, you were just playing along.

You didn't need her worrying.

Now as you go to respond the blank screen of the phone reflects your tired face.

A sound, a drip suddenly fills the space around you.

Not again.

You reason with yourself that maybe you should just stay in bed, nothing good yet to come from actually getting up.

He always said that you were a busy body.

The noise of movement makes you peek out of your sheets, the distinct sound of walking making your bare feet hit the ground, creeping quietly towards the door trying to avoid the spots you know creak.

There's somebody there. Your heart rate quickens as you watch them leaning over the countertop, head tipped, with wild hair falling to the side they stare up at the drip, eyebrows knitted, he's leaning in hand going in to catch the next droplet.

“I wouldn't touch that,” you say on instinct, body pushing past the safety of the door.

“Jesus Christ.” he recoils backwards away from you hands outstretched.

You know that voice.

Staring at you with wide eyes, you take him in. As if this couldn't get any more fucked.

“Eddie?”

He looks wearily back at you, a confused frown settling on his face for a moment before realisation takes over.

“Holy shit.”

“So you're just in my dreams now too?”

“Your dream?”

“Yes?” you put your hands out to the side displaying the mismatched pyjamas you're in.

“Okay, if this is your dream, why have I been waking up in it?”

He crosses his arms, looking you up and down. He's fully dressed, in jeans and leather jacket and as you take another step into the room you catch the smell of him, like he's just come in from the cold.

Definitely a ghost.

“Beats me. Maybe this is where I help you pass on.” you tease and you struggle to bite back the smile at the way his nose scrunches in annoyance

“I'm not dead”

You humm looking over the room, dancing wall of light, black abyss, all still intact.

“Wait?” you turn cautiously.

“Were you the one chasing me?”

He fumbles a little, eyes wide “I wasn't chasing you.”

“The hell you weren't, I almost broke my neck falling.”

“Well, why were you running?”

You gesture wildly around yourself.

“Why wouldn't I be? Why were you chasing me!?”

“To see who it was and what the hell was going on.”

You eye him warily, how much harm can he do in a dream?

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he takes a step back from you, hands raised.

Brushing past him to the bookshelf that blocks your door, your fingers running over the spines, some titles you know others you don't and you try to take a mental note to look them up when you wake.

“So this is the future.”

He's rotating the remote control in his hands inspecting it like something’s hidden inside.

“Kind of. I guess.”

“I expected more.”

“Like what.”

“More, Sci fi shit.”

“Robots in the shop, sorry”

He tsks

“Massive TV's though.” he falls heavily down onto the couch and you can't help but laugh at his impressed expression at the 30 inch second hand TV.

You pull your phone from your pocket and throw it over to him, it lands with a soft thud beside him and he flinches away.

“Electrics seem to be dead, so there's not a lot to show while we're here.”

“What is it?”

“A phone.”

He pulls a face between impressed and confused as he inspects it closely.

You turn to the drip, blackness now sliding down and puddling on the linoleum, inching towards the darkness where your kitchen cabinets should be.

That can't be good

His head turns to watch you as you follow the scar, no signs of a drip anywhere else. Your hands smooth over where it runs down the wall.

“Don't you think we should stay away from that?” he says standing up, still keeping his distance

“Why?”

“Why? Because it looks like a cavern to the underworld,” he says incredulously.

“What do you think’s past it? The light is your apartment so there must be something past it right?”

You lean forward and he rushes towards you catching your elbow just as the darkness hisses.

You both stumble back.

“Okay yeah no that was stupid.”

“You think.”

“I'm just trying to work this out.”

You shake yourself free of his grip and turn to go to the front door, but it's blank where it should be.

Had it always been gone?

You smooth your hands over where the frame should be, no sign it has ever been there or will be.

“What's wrong? “

You push your head through the light squinting as the room comes into focus, his door sits where it should.

“Your doors here. Mines. Not.”

“Your door would be .” he waves down to the abyss.

“No my doors here it-”

Doesn't look like it should be though.

Eddie's eyes search your face.

You move through the wall quickly opening his door as Eddie scrambles behind you.

The noise is deafening, all consuming blackness and screeching static howls as you recoil away, Eddie's arm curling round you as he kicks the door closed.”

“Can you stop?” he says, taking you by the arms and turning you to face him.

“We're trapped.” your mind's racing scrambling to be awake.

His face softens.

“Until we wake up. Right? You get the whooshing?”

His arms flail around his head and you nod mutely, heart in your throat.

It's just a dream.

“So let's just attempt to not piss off the overlords of this place until then, ‘kay? Obviously we're not meant to leave.”

It's just a dream.

“So what brought you to the apparent entrance of the nether realm with me,” he asks, turning to look back at you as you enter the hallway.

He walks through the frosted glass door and you trail behind following him through dust that dances in the strips of light, you're struggling to get your breathing right, lip crushed between your teeth.

You avoid eye contact walking into his room and inspecting the models that sit on his window ledge.

“It was cheap.”

He bounces as he goes to lay back on his bed, hands scrubbing his face.

“Yeah, wonder why that was. Cursed apartment, half price.”

“Comes with a free undead roomate.” you murmur, lips quirking up despite the quiver in your voice.

He gives you a deadpan look, but he's not as subtle as he thinks he is when his hand searches his neck for his pulse.

“What about you, no roommates, pretty big place for one?”

He bristles but you're too busy pressing the point of a tiny sword into your finger to catch it.

“Yeah, uh no just me.”

“Really? How do you afford it?”

“Anyone ever told you you're nosy?”

The sudden change in tone makes your face fall, his words causing heat crawl up your neck.

“Sorry.”

You walk quickly out, leaving to the quiet sanctuary of your room and sitting on the edge of your bed.

You hate how the words crawl around your head, like you're a bother, a pain in the ass.

You make things so difficult.

He appears out the bathroom door in your peripheral, his body leaning against the frame.

“I can't afford it”

You risk a glance, chewing the inside of his cheeks he stares at your partially blocked door.

“No?”

He stands upright about to speak when his hands fly to cover his ears.

Just as the rushing starts in your own.

Bent in half looking up to you, you manage to send him a grimace and a half wave, before you're gulping air.

Everything's quiet but the blood’s still rushing in your ears, sheets a tangled mess around you as you try to steady your breathing.

At least you're awake.

Two quick knocks come from behind you.

You're frozen, any intention of trying to make yourself believe this was all your subconscious leaving you in an instant.

Hesitantly, your body moves shuffling up onto your knees and you stare at the back wall.

Your hand hovers.

Knock.

The sound of distant traffic murmurs from outside.

A headache brews behind your eyes.

What the fuck is going on.

Next.

Tag list: @munsonburn3r @winchester-angel let me know if you would like to be added <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger prompts #knock knock #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab reader #my writing #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #Spotify

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iicarused · 3 months

Note

More on that whole Alastor having a spouse thing (spoilers for ep5).

A dynamic I've had rotating in my mind is of Alastor having a partner who died and went to hell with him. They represent the stereotypical couple from their time and all around are just happy, despite being in hell. Before they died Al's darling helped him cover up his crimes. Being his alibi, lying to people and cleaning up any messes he might have accidentally left behind. Even on occasions helping him cook or even back using the meat he hunted for. And when they both eventually kicked the bucket they held those values as they did when they were alive.

From an onlookers perspective they come off as a couple who's madly in love with one another, still holding that adoration towards each other through the decades they've been together. They dance together, they hold hands, they kiss… But it's not love. Ok, let me rephrase that for you. They gouge out other people's eyes out of jealousy, they pick their next victims together, they have eachothers back through thick and thin. It's not love, it's deeper.

The thing about those two is that no one can really understand them, as cheesy as that sounds. It gives them a sense of solidarity, that there is no one else for them because there is no one else like them. They are the only ones they would consider… Equals. Heh, one of the reasons why they're so intertwined with each other is because they're both just so terrible. His darling spouse just seems more negotiable, but their passiveness is a ruse. Coming of as motherly/fatherly (whatever the gender neutral term is) easily reeling in any weak minded sinners. Their diabolical antis have Alastor weak. HAH, the demon/angel, whoever has Alastor on contract wishes they had this amount of power over him because he, is, whipped.

Oh, and we can't forget the hotel's residents finding out about Al's little darling doe. Either it was Alastor who mentioned them or Mimzy did through her retelling of how Al rose to power. Or they already meet them (Husker, Niffty), but nevertheless the crew has only heard good things about you. Much to their surprise considering how self centered the dear demon is, while Vaggie is weirded out by this her girlfriend is happy and wishes to meet them someday/night. And when they do meat? They weren't very surprised, they kinda already had an image of who they were due to Alastor's ramblings.

Holding you close he kisses your neck where the burn marks are most visible. You can feel his everlasting smile tugging into a frown against your skin, the mere thought of you taking your own life still makes him sick. How afraid you must have been without him. You lean back cupping his cheek with your hand looking deep into his sorrowful eyes. An unfamiliar look for the usually dapper man, it didn't suit him.

“There's no need to get so worked up over old scars dear, I don't, so why should you? Besides, I'm here now aren't i?”

At your words the radio demon saged and let out a content sigh, his lovely smile returning.

“Your right” he said, kissing the inside of your palm before returning back to snuggling with his lover.

…

I can't imagine the reader not having a twang to their voice, their own vibe, not radio per say but something like from this youtube clip. It probably wouldn't make sense for them to sound like that but I couldn't get it out of my head.

If there's one thing I love , it's when others explore the relationship between the two individuals before they went six feet down under. And one of those versions that i quite enjoy is Deer Dolly by ohproserpine check em out. And also, Where do I begin? on ao3 (be warned, for there is implication of SA in it, nothing too graphic but still, protective Alastro being protective, love it).

I think the appeal of Alastor was how different he was (except for in the creepy ass twink department, we've got plenty of those). Mainly in the way he was presented. “a show made independently, and the voice actors are making streams talking in their characters voices? Ö”. And everyone just ran with what they had, we were given just enough to fall for the colorful cast, enough to make fan content before the pilot was out. Like the dad jokes, fan animations, Alastor saying darling~ and the many accounts of them flustering Ashley, among other things :) (all the letters are links, haven't seen some of these in years dafuq). I'm surprised that not many people use what they said in the streams in their writings, I'd wish to see more of that. There's some real gold in there to be utilized.

But anyways, back to the topic at hand. There's always been one song I've associated Alastor with, since I was like 15 to16 years old, and it's something has to happen. Can't help but imagine a chase sequence whenever I listen to it, and I recently found some more inspiration in the form of this! and that.

He could smell the fear radiating from his prey, they ran with haste, trying to put distance between them and their pursuer. The demon chuckled to himself at their persistence. Such a lively prey they were, truly, he couldn't wait to hold them close to his chest, to trap them in the grip of his teeth, tearing tissue and bones in his jaws. Oh He loves them, he hunts them.

…

Man, I remember back in the day there were so many stories revolving around Alastor appearing in the living world to torment his darling, or to make a meaningful connection with them. But I've never seen one where his darling is his accomplice, helping him spread his “curse” onto unsuspecting victims. I got this idea from this piece of artwork by lanveril.

i remember the days of that too! it was such a great time of alastor and obsession fics yknow, but also small??? since it was just the pilot and we had a lot to toy around with. but you are so right about him and his s/o being a cheesy couple.

the sweetest couple on the block who seem very normal and overall a prime example of love. “darling, i have the meat!” and you would beckon him in the kitchen with a sweet smile so you could prepare it.

i think he would be a cliche husband, but also one who enjoys a little rough housing form time to time.

i had to gatekeep this ask for awhile mb LMFAOO i loved it so much😭

#★*#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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wu-kongs · 2 years

Note

Just read through the hunt tag, and I feel like wukong chasing after erlang due to stopping macaque's chase would just do the opposite effect of wukong's goals and increase erlang's hate boner. The more proof wukong still wants macaque, the more he hates Mac, and the more yandere he gets about the fact he was rejected

"...his attempts are getting worse," macaque murmurs, brow furrowed as he flexes his hand where it hangs off his bent-up knee. his head is ducked and his back presses against the cool, rocky wall. "this is your fault."

wukong, who'd been in the middle of charming their hiding spot in a forest that miraculously exists in one of the biggest sinkholes in the land, snaps his head to look over at macaque with wide-eyed offense. "how is this my fault? because i'm trying to protect you?"

"no one asked you to do that!" macaque practically cuts him off. his voice violently ricochets off the towering stone walls.

wukong blinks rapidly, taken aback. macaque quickly absorbs his reaction and drastically reins his voice in. he heaves an annoyed sigh.

"that fucker sees it as you still wanting—caring, about me."

he doesn't miss how wukong seizes slightly, the slight thinning of his lips. more than anything else, it pisses him off. like he could ever rely on wukong to talk about his feelings or be honest about anything. macaque wants to wash his hands of both of them—him and erlang.

"are you stupid?" he reams mercilessly. "do you know what kind of target even the pretense of that puts on my back?" pretense, implication, front, because wukong doesn't care about macaque. he doesn't want macaque. he never had, and anything that might've said otherwise is a lie. his voice quiets but still remains just as severe, vague, sour notes of hurt underlining it. "erlang will never stop if he thinks you still—still—want me or something." he glares at his fist clenching over his knee.

silence pervades over the sinkhole cave. it's long enough that wukong should've said something by now, but he doesn't, and macaque becomes increasingly uncomfortable and agitated.

wukong doesn't care about him; macaque has no idea why he's going so far to protect him from erlang. please, the guy who murdered him once upon a time fending off the guy who wants to murder him now? it's preposterous. just absolutely fucking asinine.

when he finally can't stand the silence anymore, he snaps his head up with works ready to leap off his tongue to stab wukong with. he stops short when he sees wukong standing taut, shoulders hunched and fists clenched until his knuckles are whitened. he sneers.

"what, still hate the thought of me?" he hisses. "good grief, all you have to fucking do is say so instead of standing there looking like you need to shit yourself."

wukong snaps from whatever stressed reverie had him leashed and glares at macaque. macaque snorts, although he stifles the shiver of anxiety threatening to roll over his skin from that steel, angered look.

"might as well let erlang kill me. at least we won't have to do—" he gestures at their damp surroundings, lush as they are, "—this anymore."

"would that be so absurd?" it's wukong that practically cuts macaque off now, which takes macaque off guard. his brow furrows.

"what are you—"

"if i still cared."

macaque's voice catches painfully in his throat, so sharp that he almost chokes on it. he gawks at wukong a long moment before breaking into a sardonic, cold laugh.

"what, you care about someone other than yourself?" his barked laugh is almost hysterical. "always the comedian, wukong!" his voice then trips into clipped, chilled words. "aren't you just so. fucking. funny."

wukong stares right back at him, seemingly undaunted. his eyes roam macaque's face, but when it looks like he doesn't find what he's looking for (or maybe he does, and he hates it—unsurprising), all the tension bleeds from his body with an exasperated sigh.

he turns back to the cave at large, resuming his ministrations of protective spells and glamours. macaque breathes a shallower, quieter sigh of relief from being released by that... that look. he's seen that look before—oh, is he so familiar with it.

he knows that wukong knows he can hear him, but wukong mutters to himself anyway, "why do i even bother..."

exhaustion weighs in it enough to make macaque cringe, but he abstains.

why, indeed.

#ask #anonymous #shadowpeach #lmk macaque #lmk sun wukong #lego monkie kid #the hunt of the little sage #mickey's ditties #me who hasn't written for 3 days: ok let's make a banger #my bedtime is soon besties i'm saur sowwry

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pandoa · 1 year

Text

smile with me!!

where they see you, who is never one to show much emotion, smile for the first time

~feat. cater diamond, azul ashengrotto, rook hunt, and lilia vanrouge~ twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader

~headcanons~

a lot of you guys chose this in the poll i posted earlier, so here it is~ i chose which characters to include btw- have fun lolol

cater diamond sees you smile for the first time when he is mindlessly taking candid photos of the both of you together. it happens when you're looking at the adorable plushies featured at a themed café that had just opened up within the isle of sages. cater had wanted to visit it "for the aesthetics" and decided to bring you along simply for the fun of it. although he would never expect the surprise he felt when he saw a bright smile form on your charming face as he spam-clicked the camera button on his phone, taking random candids of the two of you as your eyes seemed to light up at the small, little plushies that came hugging the straws of your drinks. at first, the young man couldn't believe his eyes; you weren't exactly the type to reveal much emotion, let alone actually smile. but as a light giggle escaped your mouth as you took your own pictures of the soft stuffed animals, cater had realized how lucky—and special—he was for you to be comfortable enough to show your real emotions around him.

"Prefect! Oh my Sevens!"

"Look at these tiny plushies that come with our drinks! They look so so. . . cute?"

"Hm? Oh, it's nothing. The pictures I just took of us came out adorably~"

"Of course I already took photos! You never know when one pic can be the photo that's Magicam-perfect. But don't worry; I won't be posting these on Magicam."

"Why? Because they're too special to showcase to the internet, silly~ Oh yeah! And (Y/n), before I forget—"

"You have a precious smile~"

azul ashengrotto sees you smile when you let out a dazed sigh of satisfaction while performing for an audience at mostro lounge. it was an odd time for you to smile, actually. given the debt you were in with his business, azul was sure you would be anything but happy at the damages your little cat familiar had caused—which was why you were there now, performing in front of an audience full of students to make up for the debt you and grim were inevitably in. although, since it was your final performance for the week, the man supposed a little relief on your part was granted. he just didn't think he'd finally see a wide grin from your usually blank face shine and fill the room as the lounge's spotlight continued to glimmer above you. crowds of applause played throughout the room, whistling of some audience members sang in admiration, and you bowed, satisfied with your final performance. azul had even caught the chatter of some students sitting near him gushing over your radiance on the lounge's makeshift stage. but he had to admit... he, too, felt something small tug within his heart the moment you displayed a smile that could catch the attention of anyone around you. it was strange, but he would consider himself lucky for getting the chance to see it that day.

"Well done today, (Y/n)! Here, have a sip of some water for your efforts—no charge included."

"Sales were especially successful tonight and I am proud to say that if you keep this up, you and Grim will be free of debt sooner than originally planned. I trust that you will keep up the good work."

"Tips left for you are in that jar on top of the counter, along with some comments and notes left by the audience."

"You did well, Prefect."

"Oh and, if you feel comfortable in doing so, please keep on doing what you did today whenever you perform here."

"That smile of yours is very charming, if you did not know."

rook hunt spots a smile slowly escaping the corners of your face as he gently applies a soft shade of lip tint to your lips that matches your complexion. you were on your usual visit to pomefiore—off to go see the eccentric huntsman in his dorm room—when the man had suggested that he give you a little makeover with the new products vil had given him earlier that day. the young hunter seemed quite excited about the whole ordeal, so how could you refuse? giddily sitting you down on a seat in front of his dorm's mirror, rook had begun to apply shades of makeup gradually, delicately holding your face close to his to get a more detailed view of the cosmetics painting your cheeks. the man was completely focused on the strokes of his brush until he caught sight of a small, but enchanting smile, gracing your typically neutral expression when he had been applying a layer of lip tint to your face. any expression—or lack thereof—of yours was already spellbinding to him, but this time it had been different. this time, rook could have sworn he felt all the troubles of the world dissipate into thin air as the room seemed just a bit more brighter with your smiles filling each corner of the hunter's heart, making him endlessly fawn and ramble over how angelic you had looked at that moment.

"Mon ange! My, how most dazzling you are today!"

"Your beauty is always a sight to behold, however, today you are gleaming so incandescently! I must be careful; I may go blind by your shinning glow."

"Surely you see it as well, mon trésor. The way your existence illuminates tenfold whenever you bless the world with your joy."

"Your smile is something I wish to never be taken away from you."

lilia vanrouge catches your smile as he sneaks up to you in surprise, melodic laughter coming from your form following right after. just as he had caught you off guard, he was surprised as well seeing as you had never reacted that expressively the other times he had magically sprung up in front of you, hair oddly hanging from his head and body upside down as lilia's figure floated above you. perhaps it was the adorable way his cheeks had seemed to squish together as it gravitated down to the ground that had caused you to laugh so happily. or perhaps it was the cute, little "boo!" that came out of his lips that made you jump up, pleasantly astounded. either way, whatever reason you had that caused you to be so amused had lilia grinning as well in satisfaction. your rare smile had simply looked so endearing; it was like an unknown force was pushing against the third year—calling him to treasure and protect this emotion of yours at all costs. the specialness of your joy made the heart of this old fae flutter at the loveliness you had shown only to him that day.

"Boo!!"

"Ah, my apologies, Prefect, I did not mean to startle you too mu—"

"Hm? Oh? It's alright? My, that was unexpected, if I may be completely honest."

"Nothing to worry about, dearest (Y/n)~ I just want to engrave this moment into my mind for eternity, hehe."

"Why? To remember the sights of the first smile you had given me, of course~"

"That right there is something quite special to treasure in itself, wouldn't you say so, dear?"

a/n: believe it or not, my motivation for writing this came from people seeing my face for the first time after wearing a mask ever since 2020 (but extremely romanticized ofc lolol)

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #♢the scribe♢

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catsfor2 · 1 year

Text

out west (ellie x reader)

warnings: guns/firearms

a/n: howdy guys. not sure if this is what everyone was picturing but this was SO MUCH FUN to write ☺️😋☺️. i definitely do not think they used the word “daddy” in the wild west but i wanted to use it soooo😩😩😩😩also here are the random bits of western slang i used (taradiddles - lies, rumours. sage hen - woman, lady. ‘at sea’ - scared/confused. bellyache - worry. flannel mouth - shithead politician basically) im sorry if i effed this up 0_0 -j

His oversized poncho was black. So was the bandanna covering his mouth, and the large hat hiding his eyes. His revolver, resting like a small child in his gloved hand, stares you down mercilessly.

The figure looked of a ghost. A silent, lifeless bundle of fabrics, rippling in the wind. No face. No skin. No humanity.

And he matched the description of the poster exactly.

“No—no, please, my—my Daddy, he’s the sheriff! It’s more trouble than I’m worth, I’m tellin’ you, please!” You beg, eyes beginning to water and voice already panicked.

He says nothing, boot-clad feet pounding the wood floor carelessly as he walks towards you.

“If you do this he’ll find you! He won’t stop until he finds you! Please don’t!”

It was like talking to a pile of bricks.

The outlaw continues to charge ahead, wordlessly, and you find yourself desperately trying to see where his eyes would land under his hat. He approaches, big and brooding, until you’re face to face with that soulless bandana and downright trembling.

“I—I’d make a real good wife, really, I’ve learned all the—the sewin’, the cookin’ and—and ranchin’! I know it all I promise! It’d be a waste!” You plea, knowing it’s a last resort, knowing this man does not care.

In an instant, his hands clutch your shoulders and forcibly shove you to the side and out of his way, sending you stumbling. His attention lands and focuses on the wall that was behind you.

The poster?

Suddenly, his arm thrusts out and snatches it, like the crack of a whip, before frantically tearing the paper into tiny little pieces.

You watch as they all float down to the floor, feathery and weightless.

You see the brim of his hat turn to you first, and then his head, slowly, like he’s noticing your presence for the first time.

The hand not holding his revolver rises calmly, loosening the edges of his bandanna just a touch. He clears his throat.

“Girl like you knows how to ranch?”

Your eyes almost pop out of your head.

“You’re—”

“Sorry, these damn posters—always…writin’ up taradiddles. Got people thinkin’ I’m some madman, when really,” a finger flicks the rim of the hat, flipping it off of his head and into his grasp. “I’m no man at all.”

You feel yourself reeling, barely able to understand his words, or, her words. The hat had covered up her blue eyes, almost oceanic in color. The bandanna, hiding her soft thin lips. Basically criminal, all the fabric denying you sight of her face.

She went against almost everything Daddy had taught you. It was as terrifying as it was alluring.

“Well you look a bit at sea, darlin’. Why so scared?” She asks, placing her revolver in its holster and walking a bit closer to you.

“I—I don’t get how,”

“How? How what? How a sage hen can shoot? I can tell you right now I cut a cleaner whistle than your Daddy.” She grins, palm now itching closer to her weapon.

“No I—I believe you, it’s alright. Please don’t bring that back out.” You rush, the fear starting to sink back into you.

“Oh, honey, I don’t hunt the good ones. You’ve nothin’ to be scared of,” She assures you, her hand reaching out and feeling some of your hair. “now that sheriff Daddy of yours? Can’t say the same for him.”

You pause, hands balling into fists.

“You know what? My Daddy told me all about you and what you’ve done. I wouldn’t be speakin' so kindly of yourself.” You bite, slightly catching the gunslinger off guard with your tone.

“Oh, did he? Well your Daddy clearly don’t know me too well,” she rebukes, gesturing to the torn pieces of poster under her boots. “do you always believe everythin’ Daddy says?”

“Of course not—”

“I bet Daddy told you that storks bring the babies, right? Did he tell you that?”

“When I was young, but—”

“I bet he also told you about marriage then? One man and one woman?”

You stop talking.

What was wrong about that? Isn’t that how marriage is?

“Most of all, I bet he done told you all about the perfect husband you’re gonna get. Some flannel mouth he works with. Daddy’s girl only gets the best, right? That what he say?”

“I—” You turn your head, a little defeated. “I ain’t marryin’ no flannel mouth,”

“Oh yeah? That’s what’ll happen if you keep listenin’ to Daddy.”

“You don’t know jack. Just a crazy woman with a shootin’ iron. You won’t ever find a husband, I know it.” You spit, not even really believing your own words.

She laughs, rather abruptly, hands rested in the loops of her gun holster.

“Got no bellyaches about that, darlin’. I promise you.” She says knowingly, eyes unwilling to break their gaze from you.

You don’t quite understand what she means by it, especially the way she’s grinning, so you say nothing. Her eyes watch you darkly, following your movements and sending messages you can't translate.

Before she can speak, you remember.

“Oh—my Daddy’s gonna be back soon. I don’t want you to be here when he does.” You tell her, glancing at the doorway behind the both of you.

“I won’t be.”

“Alright—will…will I see you again?”

“Oh sweetheart, you want to?” She questions, starting to re-tie the black bandanna around her mouth.

You blush, sweetly, and the outlaw basks in it. She takes her hat back off, kisses it gently, and places it in your hands.

Her head moves to your neck, barely getting close enough to your ear and whispering faintly.

“Tell Daddy it’s from a suitor, yeah?”

Your cheeks heat, sheerly from how close she is, but also at her words, which feel so much dirtier than they should be to you.

Following that, her leather-covered hands grab your face, and she places a warm kiss on your cheek through the bandanna.

Only lightly could you feel the outline of her lips in the fabric, and it sets you on fire nonetheless.

“Thank you,” you murmur, unsure of how to respond and dizzy with excitement.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she warns, voice a bit muffled. She pulls down the bandanna one last time, and with a wink, tells you,

“I’ll be back for my hat.”

#ellie fic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #lesbian #ellie williams #tlou part 2 #ellie williams fic #tlou fic #tlou #catsfor2

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lu-dao-writes · 2 months

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— 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭 (𝘼𝙞𝙨 & 𝙇𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧)

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 Don’t go touching random plants.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Sex pollen, threesome, skull fucking, riding, dom Ais, needy Leander, gn!Reader.

𝘼/𝙉 Someone asked and I’m glad I was able to deliver lol. I’m giggling at this. But eat up and MINORS DNI!

Hopefully I didn’t write these two too badly!

It was only meant to be a hunt for herbs…

You and Leander had spotted Ais leaving Kuras’ clinic and the gang leader said he was grabbing some herbs the good doctor needed.

You offered a helping hand, and Leander had too much free time on his hands and happily tagged along.

“Alright, Sparrow, why don’t you look for sage. Let’s see how much you know,” Ais assigned to you with a simper.

“Sounds easy enough! I know what that looks like!” you reply confidently, striding off.

“And what about me?” Leander asks with his standard charming smile.

Ais flashes his teeth, looking at the Bloodhound leader with a raised brow. “Are you even familiar with herbs?”

“I’m a mage, Ais, of course I have some knowledge,” Leander says confidently, not bothered by the mocking.

“Fine. Fetch me valerian, echinacea, and clotsfoot,” Ais orders before walking off. He’s in charge of getting thyme, lavender, yarrow, and digitalis purpurea (the flower that reminds him of Vere).

You didn’t have to hunt long for the sage, picking enough for Kuras to have when suddenly an inviting smell comes to your nose.

It smelt of… Chocolate? Now that’s something new. You venture further, following the delightful scent until you come across pulsating, blue flowers all clustered together.

Now this was something! Flowers that smell like a sweet treat sounds wonderful! They’re so beautiful, and with each step you take the flowers seem to sway, as if dancing…

You get down on one knee and reach out to gently touch one of petals, soon leaning down to smell the flower a little more when there’s a sudden shout.

“Sparrow, get away from those!”

You flinch back and see Ais sprinting towards you.

“Wait why?!” you squawk, getting up, but it’s too late. Suddenly the flowers shoot out large streams of gas, your surroundings soon getting hazy.

And just your luck you trip.

“Shit!” Ais curses, diving into to get you.

You grip onto him but something seems to have your ankles hostage? You’re accidentally falling once more and taking Ais down with you.

“Leander, where the fuck are you?!” Ais barks out, trying to once again get you and now himself up off the ground.

Leander’s muscled form soon breaks in and he sends a blast of magic just a few spaces behind you both, burning the flowers to a crisp, and creepily enough you hear them actually screaming.

He hauls you and Ais further away before sending another blast of magic, not stopping until all the flowers are gone. Soon the fog slowly dissipates and bits of glowing green fire cling to the other flora, the fire soon dying as well.

“Shit,” Ais curses again, his chest heaving. He looks at you and your hardly able to stand, your eyes rapidly blinking.

Your skin feels tingly and you feel extremely flushed, your legs almost feeling numb.

“Yeah.. We better hurry somewhere other than here,” Leander mutters, his face red with blush.

“What… The hell was that?” you pant.

“That, Sparrow, was flower you most definitely shouldn’t have touched,” Ais huffs.

“Well no shit, Ais!” you gripe. “But are we gonna die!?”

“No,” replies both men.

“Those flowers are a natural aphrodisiac, but they’re very dangerous, especially if you don’t get rid of them,” Leander supplies with a nervous smile.

You blink once. Twice. “You’re fucking kidding?”

“‘Fraid not,” Ais mumbles.

And you’re not clueless to what that entails.

And that’s how you end up in this position.

Ais gripping your head as he drills his thick cock into your throat, his red eyes clouded with lust as he stares straight into your soul.

And Leander has your hips in a death grip as he braces his legs and fucks up into you desperately, lost in his own pleasure and the haze and greedily enjoying your warmth as you squeeze the life out his poor aching cock.

He’s whining and moaning about how good you feel, greedy fucker having cummed so many times in you already while Ais has only came once down your throat.

But not to worry, you’ve cummed too, Leander touching you and his cock hitting the right spot. It has you seeing stars.

Ais soon grunts and pulls out from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting from your lips to his dick. His thumb resting on your bottom lip as he fists his cock rapidly. “Keep your pretty mouth open, Sparrow.”

And oh, he moans and groans so prettily as he cums, his head slightly thrown back.

Your tongue hangs out to catch some of the thick, white ropes that spurt from the angry red tip of his cock, the rest splattering on your face and some even in your hair, but you couldn’t care less.

Leander moans loudly, busting another load into you, and he has enough stamina to help you finish as well, your body shuddering and your hole squeezing him again, causing him to drool a little with tears clinging to his lashes.

Poor Kuras won’t be getting those herbs anytime soon…

#•⋅⊰∙☽𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃☾∙⊱⋅•#touchstarved ais #touchstarved leander #touchstarved vn #touchstarved x reader #ais x reader #leander x reader #ais x reader x leander #red spring studios #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #ais #leander

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kedsandtubesocks · 29 days

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your favorite kryptonite

Comic Bookstore Owner!Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

summary: you think it should be illegal for someone this hot to work at your favorite comics & fandom shop

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MDNI. non canon AU. Dieter as a big fandom nerd (affectionate), brief one sided annoyance to lovers, mentions and discussions of various medias including marvel, video games & anime/manga, light use of gendered language, moment of harassment from a creep, Dieter cosplaying surprise, spicy themes, reader wears Dieter’s robe but no physical description is mentioned, light drug use (marijuana), silly chaotic but sweet!Dieter

word count: 4.3k

a/n: So I’m back with another wacky AU LOL this is my love letter to all things wonderfully nerdy & to nerd Dieter who in my heart i believe is totally a Kakashi and Goku fanboy lol the biggest thanks go out to @perotovar & @burntheedges who helped championed this and gave me the power up strength to continue, so grateful for y’all babes! And to you reading this thank you so much ♡

The new mecha anime figurines immediately draw your attention. Their sharp beautiful sleek designs stand impressively and although you might not be a huge fan you admire the striking style.

You’ve been coming to Atomic Planet Shop since your best friend dragged you here in high school years ago. Containing a wide range of things like a whole area to flip through comics, to a wall of Japanese manga - it’s a nerd’s paradise.

Currently you search for a birthday gift to get your best friend and maybe snag a treat for youdelf.

“Oh, a fan of Gundam I see.” An eager and new voice calls from behind.

Turning back you discover someone slinking out from behind the register. Normally Raymond, the sweet older man who runs the store, would be here. But now someone new stands in his place and you’re stunned.

The guy emerging from behind the counter is gorgeous.

Scruffy beard, fluffy hair, wearing earrings and rings on his hand, he’s hot. The shirt he wears says “Wolverine Call Me” in a heart shape. His deep chocolate even eyes seem to dance curiously.

“Uh, just looking.” You politely reply.

“Whatcha looking for?”

You explain how you’re here looking for a birthday gift for your friend.

“Oh nice.” He nods appreciatively.

While you’re turned, giving this new worker your attrition, you finally notice the glass shelf behind the register.

Your eyes go wide fast at what you spot.

“Is that a new Stardew Valley cookbook?” You can’t even process the words, you’re still in awe at the sight. Precious little drawings fill the space to show familiar dishes, like pink cake and lucky lunch, from the game. It’s gorgeous and so unique.

“Oh hell yeah, you a fan?” The mystery man exclaims. “You know we have a whole little-”

“Video game section off to the side. Yeah.” You warmly cut him off.

Originally the store had been very comics and graphic novel focused. However over the years it’s evolved to add more fandom-like elements and now there’s even a small but impressive video game focused area.

A sweetly surprised look falls over the guy’s face and it paints him utterly charming.

“So who’s your go-to spouse in SDV?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

You tell him and he nods sagely.

“I always go for Krobus. Gotta respect our cute sewer dweller.” He says.

While you laugh a flutter scurries across your heart.

A ring at the door chimes in breaking your sweet conversation and a cluster of guys walk into the store.

“Guess I’ll get back to birthday gift hunting.” You smile at the cute worker then return to the comic stacks.

Flipping through the different series and passing through many fun options, you catch the conversation off to the side.

The pack of young guys that walked in seem to know the cute worker and snicker with him about something.

“Oh yeah man, so I was rewatching Endgame the other day and the part where Scarlet Witch goes one on one with Thanos? Unrealistic!” One of them cackles and you pause.

Did they not even see or know about how powerful she’s confirmed to be in the other MCU projects? Even then, in the comics Scarlet Witch flat out changes the trajectory of reality. If anything Thanos is only strong because he got lucky.

But you hold your tongue and continue scanning through the comics.

These guys are probably just punk ass kids. You don’t want to waste your energy on these guys who probably also hate on other characters like Shuri and Carol Danvers.

Now the cute store worker scoffs amused but doesn’t correct them. Your face scrunches up.

You thought he was charming, maybe a bit eccentric, like a 90’s vibrant Lisa Frank vibe. Yet now your skin crawls just a little bit thinking he might be one of those unfortunately toxic gatekeeping jackass guys.

You decide to leave now. You still had time to look for a birthday gift for your best friend. So you’ll just come back later. Without a second glance to the cute worker, you slip out and wonder about maybe checking out another store.

Of course, you’re too tired to actively look for another store. The next time you return to Atomic Planet, you pray Raymond is there.

You’re excited and almost relieved to see the familiar eccentric older man smiling toothy at you from behind the counter.

“Well, you’re a wonderful sight for sore eyes!” He greets you and happily you catch up and chat with him.

Suddenly a chaotic bang clamors in. The handsome worker from last time tumbles out from the back room into the front as if he tried to rush over.

“Dieter man, what’s the rush?” Raymond laughs.

Dieter. So that’s his name.

The guy, Dieter, this time wears a Naruto shirt under a sleepy and cozy green robe. His hair is still fluffy and you don’t miss how wide eyes stare at you.

“Hey.” You politely but curtly reply.

“Hi.” Dieter waves and you hate how cute he looks.

“By the annoyed look on your face, I take it you’ve met this new headache.” Raymond chuckles and embarrassment rams into you knowing your annoyance is that obvious.

“Don’t worry, he’s harmless.” Raymond waves. “He cries when he watches My Neighbor Totoro.”

“Hey what the fuck!” Dieter cries and you press your lips together trying not to laugh.

“Just ignore him, honey.” Raymond winks and you grin wide.

After thanking him, you head back to the birthday gift search. Searching now through the manga selection you notice something moves by the corner of your eye.

Turning to the side, a large Totoro plushie floats beside you obviously being held up.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” A high pitch tone acting as the adorable creature's voice speaks out and your lips twitch.

From the side Dieter pops his head out.

His hair, rivaling a bird's nest, creates a cloud around him and his wide doe-like eyes peeking out are so hard to be fully annoyed at.

“You know,” he now fully speaks in his voice, moving to hold the large adorable plushie in his arms. “Never got your name.”

“You have my full permission to beat his ass if you need to, dear.” Raymond yells dully from the cash register and Dieter squawks horrified.

You laugh bright. Turning to the side you see Dieter already holds his hand out. The half crooked grin on his face paints him so boyish.

“Name’s Dieter.”

You shake his hand, finally giving him your name.

“So, do you really think Scarlet Witch can’t take on Thanos?” You offer light.

Dieter sighs loud. “I knew those guys and what we were talking about might’ve pissed you off.”

So he was watching you. That brings in a curious warmth that courses through you.

“Well I do apologize.” He bows his head a bit. You at least appreciate that.

“I bet those guys are the same ones that don’t like Carol Danvers either or even know that Squirrel Girl defeated Thanos.” You add a bit snippy.

“You know your shit, I like that.” Dieter replies proud and the way his voice drips out smooth does something dangerous to your heart.

You shrug but fight off the smug grin threatening to mirror his.

“Maybe you need to go Gandalf on my ass and teach me a thing or two, like maybe over coffee?” Dieter offers and you’re knocked out.

So he feels this spark, chemistry or whatever it is, between you too.

“Maybe,” you reply back with a grin. “For now I gotta get back to gift shopping.”

“You still haven’t found your friend a gift?! Geeze, what kind of bestie are you?!” He cries out teasing and you roll your eyes.

It’s getting harder staying annoyed with him and not taking up his offer to get coffee.

You eventually decide on a comic art book for your friend and then spot the assorted mystery box trinkets to maybe snag a few for her and even for yourself.

“I know everyone says Goku would beat the fuck out of Thanos, but you know who else would too without breaking a sweat?” Dieter’s voice again arrives at your side. He’s rather persistent, your cute, slightly not so annoying gnat.

“Sailor Moon.” He answers himself sagely.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You snicker amused.

He practically beams besides you when you agree.

You ask if he’s a fan.

“Oh hell yeah! Sailor Venus is my fav.” Dieter cries. “I can sing the entire song theme opening for you if you’d like. Not to brag, but that and the second Naruto theme opening are my go to karaoke songs.”

You laugh, feeling it deep into your bones. He’s chaotic, but unbearably endearing.

In a blink, a rush comes in all at once. The fun sweet bubble you had been cultivating deflates and you hate how disappointed you get seeing Dieter scramble to try and work.

When you go check out, you’re surprised he’s the one at your register.

Even though he’s focused on working you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker up to you shyly but with a confident smirk. He turns to fully gift wrap the items knowing they’re going to be a present and you thank him for that.

When you grab your bag he gives you a smooth wink and you playfully glare at him.

Later at home, when you unpack everything, you find an extra surprise in the bag.

It’s a small box of strawberry pocky snacks you know you didn’t buy.

There’s a sticky note attached to it.

A sweet treat for a sweet customer! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ ♡)

Call me if you ever wanna get coffee or just talk nerd shit and make me absolutely fall even harder for you

Underneath the message, he left you his number and you can’t believe it. After squealing about it with a few of your friends, you text him.

Dieter replies back quick with the funniest excited cat reaction meme and you realize you might be in the best kind of trouble with this guy.

— . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.—

You didn’t expect the convention to be this crowded. Chatter fills the air as cosplayers move all around.

The booths stretch endless with countless tempting merch.

Your best friend tried to get you to plan a fun cosplay with her. However neither you or her could decide on what to pick in time. Now you're gladly comfortable in an everyday outfit and simply allow yourself to be in awe at the intricate lovely costumes.

While scanning the convention and taking in the beautifully controlled chaos in, you also hope to catch sight of someone in particular.

“Dude, stop trying to look for your hot nerd boyfriend.” Your best friend snorts and your heart trips over itself.

Embarrassed, you chide her and remind her that Dieter isn’t your boyfriend.

“Oh yeah because texting a guy everyday for the past month and going to cute cat cafes with him isn't dating.” She deadpans with a smirk.

You playfully glare at her.

It’s not official and you don’t want to rush whatever this is with Dieter. You haven’t even been to his place yet. You don’t mind though. You’ve just been enjoying getting to know him more.

You learn Dieter’s favorite video game is Hollow Knight and his favorite anime is Neon Genesis Evangelion.

His favorite comic book villain of all time is the Condiment King.

Matcha flavored Kit Kats have become his newest obsession session.

He saw all the Lord of the Rings movies in theater and can practically quote The Two Towers. Still has the comic book his best friend in middle school gave to him. Also refuses to let any of his Animal Crossing villagers leave because he’s so attached to them.

Dieter had made you laugh more than you can count, but he can be a bit ridiculous.

Like when he called you after he got off a late closing night shift to ask if Pacific Rim was real did you think the Kaiju monsters would maybe stop attacking if they found out how much he loves them.

Dieter does have his headache moments, but he’s an endearing kaleidoscope of a soul.

Earlier this week when you visited him at the shop, he said he was going to be here at the conversation. But with how bad the convention center’s wifi is, you haven’t been able to contact him.

“He even said he was coming in cosplay just for today right? Any ideas what he’s showing up as?” Your best friend wiggles her eyes while you and her stroll down an artist alley.

“No!” You huff still upset. “He said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

While you appreciate him wanting to wait for a dramatic reveal, you wanted to know what his outfit was from the minute he told you.

You wanted to maybe try dedicatedly searching for him, but you get completely enthralled by the mass amounts of merchandise delightfully distracting you.

You spot incredible fan art pieces, adorable handmade keychains, and very expensive but beautiful figurines.

It’s like a mini wonderland.

Checking out the cute earrings at the stall you’re at, you lose sight of your best friend. When you turn to excitedly talk with her, that’s when you spot it.

She’s a few steps away, very politely trying to inch away from a guy, dressed in a Deadpool suit without the mask on. He’s talking way too aggressively and getting way too close to your friend.

Immediately you rush over and happily jump in.

“I gotta show you this!” You thankfully have the best excuse to pull her away.

But the guy only takes it as an opening to instead follow you both now.

“Just ignore him.” Your best friend whispers to you.

You and her continue to stare at the jewelry. Yet the guy remains. He continues his discussion and seems to get upset that you or your friend aren’t replying. It’s creepy and persistent especially with how he refuses to budge or take the hint.

You try lightly deflating the situation by apologizing and saying you and your friend just want to enjoy shopping.

“Oh, is shopping all you two came here for? You know, you fucking losers aren’t even in cosplay. Fake ass fans.”

Now he gets really aggressive.

The air and tension shift. The poor cute shop owner in her adorable R2D2 dress even reacts getting upset.

“Look, we just wanna enjoy the con.” Your best friend replies sharp with a hard scowl.

“What in the fantastic fuck do we have here?”

Suddenly Dieter’s voice rings out excited and bright and you almost sob.

You whip your face around to spot him.

Except it is and isn’t him.

His hair is slicked back, gelled and curled. Thick gray colored hairs line his temples. It even looks like he shaved a bit.

He’s dressed as Reed Richards, Mr. Fantastic himself.

The outfit looks based on the classic 1960’s first comic book released aesthetic and it compliments Dieter’s frame gorgeously. His shoulders look unbelievably broad and his even arms seemed bigger in the tight soft baby blue material. You’ve never seen him in something so form fitting and it has your throat drying up.

You’ve even momentarily forgotten about the guy bothering you and your best friend.

“You bothering these two, ya fucking creep?” Dieter says with a nudge of his chin.

It’s hot as fuck.

The guy stunned gapes like a fish and stammers, but no words come out.

“Beat it before I shove a lightsaber up your ass.” Dieter replies bored, but it adds a sense of deadliness to his words.

The Deadpool cosplayer turns on his heels and immediately scrambles away. Your knees almost buckle overwhelmed.

Your best friend and even the stall owner cry out wildly excited in a bright neon awe of Dieter. You swallow back a sob as you turn to embrace him. His warm large hands pat you comfortingly.

“You saved us.” You teasingly sob, but truthfully you know he did.

“I’d been looking for you for a hot minute and was about to make some sort of raptor call noise to get your attention until I saw that shit going down.” Dieter explains.

“What a hero.” Your friend jokingly adds, but you hear it in her voice how grateful she is.

Dieter snickers.

“Guess you could almost say I was fantastic… mister fantast-”

You cut Dieter off with a quick kiss to his cheek before he can make the pun and your friend along with the stall owner laugh.

Gingerly, almost tentatively you move to intertwine your hand with his. He reacts immediately pulling you to his side.

For the rest of the convention Dieter stays besides you, walking hand in hand with you.

Even when you arrive at the booth for Atomic Planet, the real reason why Dieter was here to help work, Raymond waves him away saying to enjoy the convention with you.

Your heart flutters and Dieter squeezes your hand excitedly.

The rest of the time is a blissful geeked out dream. Dieter buys you a few keychains, even treats you and your best friend to a bite to eat.

You came to the convention with your best friend…

But you leave with Dieter.

Especially when your best friend urges you to go home with him and enjoy his hot cosplay.

You give her a look when she cheekily tells you that, but she isn’t wrong. Even when you grabbed the quick bite before the night ended, it was hard trying to ignore the amount of people turning to stare at Dieter with wide curious eyes.

And a little twinge of something faintly possessive bubbles in you.

That’s why when you slide into the passenger seat of his car, your heart drums loudly in your ears trying to fight against the urge to just suck his cock right here in the car.

“So uh…” Dieter begins cautiously and even a bit bashfully. “I don’t wanna sound too aggressive and you can tell me no, but can I kiss you-”

You don’t even let him finish before you’re sliding over the seat to him.

He scrambles and immediately pulls you close as his lips become a magnet to yours.

This is the first time you’re really truly kissing Dieter. You’ve kissed him gently good night before. He’s been cute with leaving kisses to your cheek or even against the back of your head like a Victorian gentleman. But now it’s a raw unraveling getting to tasting him from the source so greedy.

You won’t dare admit it outloud, but the soft feel of his lips, the scrape of his jaw, the smell of his delicious cologne, and how warm he consumes you -

It’s pretty fantastic.

— . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.—

Dieter’s room is a treasure trove.

Framed posters of Pacific Rim, AKIRA, The Iron Giant, and the original Pokemon Kanto generation line the walls. His bookshelf is filled not just with comic books and manga, but various impressive graphic novels.

A mock infinity gauntlet sits beside his television. So many anime figurines, including a really nice Goku one, stand protecting his reading collection.

What surprises you is his expansive and sleek gaming corner which includes a striking computer set up.

“You look hot as fuck standing in my robe and knowing I just came in you a few hours ago is even hotter.” Dieter says from his bed in the most sinful but half groggily asleep voice.

You smirk and continue to soak in his room.

“So do you get good discounts from the store?” You ask.

“Yeah, but it also helps that I co-own it.” Dieter casually tells you. You hear him shifting among the seats then catch the flicker of the lighter igniting.

However your eyes go wide realizing what he said and you whip back around to him.

“Wait?! You co-own the shop?”

“Well yeah, Raymond, that old fuck, is my uncle.” Dieter coughs out as he exhales from the hit he took off his weed pipe.

Dieter even explains how, because his uncle is starting to get a bit older, he decided to step in to help run the place.

“Besides, how else could I show off my extensive knowledge of elvish language other than at the shop?” He says proudly.

How did you just now learn this?

Dieter reminds you of a rubik cube you think you’ve finally figured out, think you found a groove for - until one out of the corners a jack in the box pops out.

Before you can even ask him about the shop or about his uncle, Dieter’s phone goes off.

The loud ringtone sings into the room and your eyes go wide hearing it. Dieter checks who’s calling then denies the call muttering out about how spam scam callers need to be fed to a sarlacc pit.

“Wait…is Cascada’s ‘Everytime We Touch’ actually your ringtone?” You ask, still not believing it.

“Fuck yeah it is, baby! That song is untouchable!” He cries and you can’t help but laugh.

Dieter smirks then pats the open spot on the bed where you had been resting before. Sliding back into the warmth with him, he gently pulls your face to him and kisses you softly.

The taste of the smoke lingers on his lips, but it’s still him beneath it all. You eventually wind up in his arms, cozy and warm in his embrace.

“I noticed the nice audio and mic setup.” You comment while his fingers draw aimlessly against your skin. “You trying to maybe go the YouTuber route?”

“Nah. Maybe. Who knows.” He shrugs. “It’s mainly for something else.”

Now his voice grows a bit distant.

You gently ask him what that something else is and Dieter fidgets

“Don’t… don’t laugh okay.” He mumbles adorably.

You reassure him earnestly you won’t.

He sighs.

“So I’ve been wanting to get into voice acting work.” Dieter reveals with a mutter, even sounding a bit embarrassed

However, you perk up so bright. Turning in his arms you eagerly smile at him.

“Di, that sounds amazing!” You mean those words.

You can’t help but ramble about how great he would be for that. He has the personality for it and he’s told you how he’s done some stage acting work. Plus, it just fits him. You think of all the silly voices he does and you hope now he can make this path a reality.

Dieter’s handsome face falls a bit and you stop. You wonder if you’ve scared him off, or maybe he thinks you’re possibly making fun of him.

You’re about to apologize when Dieter swiftly moves to kiss you feral and fierce. His tongue slides into your mouth with a moan you greedily swallow.

The conversation is put on pause when his hands slide up your thighs, straight to your core, and you fall apart with him once again.

Basking in the afterglow you rest against his chest now feeling sleepy, not even knowing what time it is. You realize being with Dieter is like existing in a realm a bit separated from reality sometimes and it’s beautiful.

“I don’t wanna be that lame guy,” Dieter begins. “But shit, I already really really kind of like you a fucking lot.”

Your lips fight back a smile you can’t beat. You turn to bury your face against his warm bared chest.

“I really kinda like you a lot too.” You admit.

“That’s unfortunate.” He replies and you snort.

“It’s okay. I only want the good discount on merch at the shop.” You reply cheekily.

“Aw! You don’t even want me for my body? Just my discount?!” He cries hurt and even jokingly moves to shove you off.

“Well.” Then he pauses. “Guess I could call my dick a discount, but then again… there isn’t anything short about that-”

You cut him off with an eye roll and he snickers wildly amused.

His fingers move to tickle you, to corrupt you into his same fit of giggles and you wheezing trying to squirm away from him.

Dieter’s hands eventually snake around you and draw you back into his chest. You melt against him willingly and even sigh comforted.

“Next time if we go to a convention, if you feel comfortable with it, you should cosplay.” He comments.

You admit that you’ve thought about it and list a few ideas you’ve had. But mainly, your mind thinks about the different outfits Dieter could go as.

The thought of him now as Doctor Doom instead of the heroic Reed Richards is a glorious thought.

But of course there’s so many other incredible options.

Dieter as Harvey or even Marlon from Stardew Valley.

Even a few anime characters that would fit him so well come to mind.

Specifically Kishibe from the series Chainsaw Man, with his striking cut across his mouth and incredibly lazy hot older demeanor, just fits Dieter so well it stirs something in you again.

“Maybe next con,” Dieter offers and pulls you from your thoughts. “I’m thinking about going as Tuxedo Mask. Do you wanna be my Sailor Moon?”

A couples matching outfit.

You didn’t even think of that. That’s what he was nudging towards.

You didn’t even think of that. But just getting to be beside him is something sweetly moving.

Then thinking about him in the sleek tuxedo outfit, in the white mask, is a dangerous thought you already ache to maybe see come true.

“We’ll see.” You hum with a smile, but when you go to kiss him it feels like a gilded warm promise.

“Never mind. I want us to go as Undertale characters and I wanna be Sans.” Dieter says suddenly and you snort against his shoulder.

This time spent with him, and the promise of maybe something more, is sweet starlit bliss.

#I blame this on wanting another anime tattoo so I’m sorry I’m here to spread the nerd Dieter agenda lol #comic bookstore owner!Dieter #nerd!Dieter #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #pedrostories

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gurugirl · 7 months

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The Trapper | special preview

Series Summary: Set in the 1850s, a long distance romance (of sorts) between a traveler who hunts for a living and an innkeeper's daughter.

Part 1 summary (preview below from part 1): Harry's been away from Sage Lake for a year and Y/N thought she'd never see him again. But he's returned with the intention of taking her with him next time he leaves.

1.5k word preview

Harry always looked forward to visiting Sage Lake on his travels. He tried to stop there as frequently as possible but the life of a hunter and trapper on the range was unpredictable.

This year, luck had been on his side. The population of deer, muskrat, and possum was overwhelming the North plains and Harry was a skilled hunter who used this to his advantage. The overpopulation was causing disease amongst the animals and ruining farmer’s crops so Harry was seen as a savior of sorts. He sold his trappings to the locals, from town to town he’d travel. Fur, tools from bone, dried and salted meat, and even decorative pieces of jewelry he crafted.

He had quite the haul in his wagon as he entered the lovely little lakeside town. The townsfolk waved at him as his horses pulled him and his carriage through the bumpy dirt road to the inn where he knew he’d have a room waiting for him.

It had been nearly a year since he’d seen her. The innkeeper’s daughter was a beautiful and smart girl. Sassy if he was honest. Though he could put her in her place if needed. He smiled to himself thinking about their last interaction.

“Well then go mister Big Bad Hunter! Life out there is far more exciting than staying put in this old town. Nothing here to keep you anyway is there?” Y/n had her arms crossed over her chest as she stood out on the dusty porch of the inn and watched Harry load his saddle.

Harry nodded without giving her a glance. He’d always been a man of little words but for Y/n… he was different. He loved teasing her and often gave her lip back because she was fun to rile up. But in that moment, he was feeling the sting of having to leave again. Truth was he would have liked to stay longer. Figure out whatever was going on with his feelings for the girl at the inn. But he had a job to do. He was a hunter by trade and keeping the miles of Northern range and plains people fed and clothed was important to their survival, especially during the wintertime. And he needed to survive as well. All his trappings and wares were dwindled to decorative pieces and jewelry that didn’t sell as quickly as the more practical items.

He felt her hand on his arm suddenly and turned to look down at her, “Always gonna be like this? You just come when you feel like it? Leave when you please?”

He sighed. Her pretty big eyes always got him. He’d never once kissed her lips but he’d dreamt of it more often than he liked to admit, “Of course, I have to leave. I’ve got nothing left. It’s time for trapping, the season is here. People need fur and meat and tools and I intend to provide it for them. Helps me survive as well.”

She let go of his arm and huffed, turning her back, “I know. But I hoped…” Her following words were too quiet for the hunter to hear so he grasped the back of her arm and pulled her toward him.

“Speak up, girl.” He spoke and gripped her tight when she tried to yank her arm from his hold.

“S’nothin’. Go on then. Leave.” She looked downward and Harry, as much as he understood her upset, because he was feeling it quite the same, didn’t like her talking to him that way.

Smushing her cheeks together and tilting her head upward to look at him he spoke quietly, “What’s got you so upset? Hmm?”

He loosened his grip on her chin so she could speak, but he kept his hand on her face to keep her gaze on his.

“Said it’s nothin’. Let go of me.”

Harry couldn’t help but quirk up the edge of his lips. He was too aware of their unique connection and their slowly developing feelings for one another. It had been this way over the years of his travels to Sage Lake, “Don’t be sad, Y/n. I’ll return like I always do and we can go take a midnight dip in the lake once again.”

An annoyed grumble fell from her mouth and she grasped onto his forearm to pull his hand from her jaw, “Don’t care if you ever come back or not. Waste of my time.”

Harry snorted a laugh, “Liar. I’ll be back. And next time I’ll have a nice big carriage with two horses and the biggest bounty you’ve ever seen. Maybe I’ll even stay longer next time if you’re really sweet.”

Y/n’s younger brother stomped through the front salon toward the office where Y/n was checking the log and making sure the guests were all shored up on their accounts.

“Harry the hunter is here! He’s gonna want that big room again!”

Y/n looked up at her brother Matthew with wide eyes. Harry? Her Harry? She stood from her wooden chair, wiped her hands down her apron, and quickly smoothed her wild hair, peeking at her reflection in the wavy glass lamp, “Okay. Go put the linens on the bed and make sure there’s a towel and an extra pillow like he likes.”

Matthew stood grinning at her with his hands on his hips, “He’s got himself a big carriage and two horses. Looks like he might be ready to settle in for a bit.” Matthew wasn’t the only one aware of the budding romance between the pair. Though she’d never admit to it, it was obvious.

She had been pursued by a businessman not long after Harry left last time. Y/n was beyond the age of settling down. Normally young women would be married off no later than age 20 but when Y/n declined to take the man as a suitor her father was disappointed and expressed it to her for months after. The man had a decent property and made good money. It was time for her to get married, have kids. He scolded her about waiting around for Harry and she denied that was the reason she didn’t want to marry the other man. No one believed her.

But she was thankful that her father didn’t insist. That he didn’t make her entertain the attention of another man. She knew she was lucky that her father allowed her to make her own decisions and wasn’t strict like her friend’s dads were.

And now at 23, Y/n was old by most standards, which she found ridiculous.

She closed the accounts book and placed her quill pin into its inkpot as Matthew left the room. She took a deep breath and went into the salon to pace. Her heart was already thrashing in her chest and her boots clapped along the hardwood floors with each step.

She hadn’t seen him in a year. She expected he’d return much sooner but lost hope after six months. It was difficult not knowing what to expect. Had no way to know if he’d settled in another town with a lovely girl and had already begun a family. Or perhaps he’d frozen to death out there on his excursions. Left alone with his horse tied to a log and his gun next to him, his heart gradually slowing down its cadence as his limbs turned to ice. Yes. She was the type to think the worst.

When she heard commotion from the front of the inn she shook her arms out and bent at the waist to catch her breath and soothe her nerves. She was about to face the man she couldn’t get out of her mind. He took up much of her secret thoughts and now here he was. It would be the longest they’d gone without seeing one another. A whole year and some.

Harry was tying his lead to the post when he looked up and saw the girl, hands on her pretty hips with hair that looked just as unruly as he remembered. She could never tame it. He grinned as he looked back toward his carriage. He was surprised by how excited he was to see her. His own heart thudded under his ribcage. He lifted his hat off his head and smoothed his hair back before placing it back and straightening his face out so that his expression wasn’t a giveaway to the girl at how pleased he was to see her again.

“Been a while. Looks like you kept your word. Big carriage, two horses,” she lifted her skirts and stepped down onto the dirt to take a closer look at his new setup.

Harry’s deep voice and his natural scent had her mind already spinning as he draped a heavy arm over the saddle and faced Y/n, standing over her, “I’m a man of my word. Should know that about me by now.”

She swallowed and tried not to pay attention to how he had the sleeves of his shirt pushed up his forearms, those uncouth and rude tattoos peeking out. The white material was dingy all over and the area under his arms slightly yellowed from his dried sweat. He was a hard worker and she knew his active labor as a trapper kept his body in better shape than most. And she knew he’d want a bath right away too. “Well, let’s get you to your room then.”

A/N: This will be a short series and will only be posted to my new Patreon. If you're interested in reading this love story please sign up! I will be posting plenty of patreon-exclusive content for members as well as new short series and one shots! Don't worry, though, if you're unable to subscribe, I'll continue to post new content to Tumblr regularly as I always have. xoxo

Find my Patreon here!

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