#I wish I could find a way to format it the way I want that won't take forever
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the school-bound kingscholar || leona kingscholar
masterlist
characters: Mwezi Miji Trio (OCs), Leona, Ruggie (platonic)
genre: Angst
contains: (Brief) Swearing, Possible OOC moments (depending on how you view Leona and Ruggie [mainly Leona])
summary: Following the admittance of Night Raven College's newest freshmen, both Kingscholars begin to come to terms with the newest changes in their lives.
notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING AGAIN OTZ. Unfortunately, my lapses of writer's block and demotivation have only increased since I last posted. I'm trying to get back into the hang of posting things (as evident by my art account suddenly coming alive again).
ALSO! As you can tell by the formatting, I'm actually writing with proper grammar on Tumblr now! Right now, I don't plan to go back to reformat the older chapters, but maybe once I find the drive to do it, I will! Thank you, everyone, for being so patient with me, I really appreciate it <3
parts: [og post] | [previous] | [next]
Leona felt something knock the air out of his lungs. To Ruggie, who stood right beside him in a robe that was a few inches too long, it was hilarious. Seeing the very prince (well, second prince) of the Afterglow Savanna lose his composure was enough to make Ruggie let out a quiet "Shyeheehee" under his breath before he ultimately straightened his posture under Leona's pointed glare.
Nothing could have prepared Leona to see (Name) again. Honestly, he had long since come to terms with the fact that his little sibling was missing, lost to the Outlands and likely a rotting corpse in the middle of nowhere.
He's lying, he could never come to terms with that, no matter how much he deluded himself.
But they were here. They were here and they were walking closer and they looked exactly the same as he remembered them.
Well, obviously, not exactly. But they looked so familiar and yet so different at the same time. Leona didn't even notice the tip of his tail swishing behind him until he heard one of his dorm members complaining about a tickling sensation against his ankles. And that only caused Leona to grumble under his breath and snatch the base of his tail to stop it from moving.
By the Seven, had they changed. They seemed bolder and more confident compared to the last time he had seen them. The way their shoulders were no longer hunched forward and instead rolled back in a pride strut he wished he could attribute to someone who had come to accept their own status or the way their eyes seemed sharper rather than soft and wide with innocence. And their hands. By the gods, what happened to their hands...? No, they had changed severely, akin to the way Leona recalled seeing the royal guards before and after their training.
Something had happened, that much he could figure out. And as much as he wanted to advance the board, reach out, and capture them like a king in a game of chess, he couldn't. Not when they were surrounded by a queen and two rooks.
"Ignore him," Nuru advised, although his words were more of a formality if anything. He knew how well you could handle yourself, but this was a unique situation.
"I know," you replied curtly, flipping your hood back on and sidling up to Nuru's right side. Jabori immediately flanked your other side in turn, followed by Jabali. It was a familiar formation, one that the four of you had cultivated for as long as you could remember.
"It doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would," you whisper. However, the sharp pain lingering in your chest said otherwise.
Student after student soon began trickling out of each coffin, repeating the painstaking process of standing in front of the mirror, listening to its spiel about their innermost workings, before joining whatever dorm they were assigned to. Until finally, finally--
"We're done with orientation and dorm assignments?" One of the hooded figures lamented, his hand perched prim and properly on his hip. If you didn't any better, you'd assume that he was royalty or nobility. But, judging from his scent alone, he wasn't.
"Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever," Leona yawned, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he turned on his heels, facing the mass of hooded figures now under his care. "I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me."
He went to take a step amidst the other chattering dorm leaders before the doors slammed open, the handles banging against the wall from the force at which it swung. Leona groaned in response, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Psst, Nuru," Jabali called from his spot beside Jabori, leaning forward to actually see him. "Are you sure this is the right place? We're actually supposed to find answers from..."
Jabali paused and motioned out towards the commotion now terrorizing the mirror chamber. The little gray cat scampered around the floor, setting fire to whatever he could in some strange show of physical prowess and magical ability. "...These people?!"
Nuru said nothing at first. From where you stood beside him, you could tell doubt was beginning to creep up behind him. Lucky for him, Jabori decided to take the lead.
"This is Night Raven College," he points out, pulling back the hood of his robe by a hair to peer over at his twin. "Pretty much everyone here, especially the dorm leaders, are adept at some kind of magic. I mean, look."
This time, Jabori pointed towards the commotion, his finger following the way that the redhead shot a spell in the cat's direction, materializing a red and black collar around its neck.
"It's the best shot we have," he concludes, nodding in support of Nuru. That single gesture instantly calmed Nuru down, his shoulders no longer hunched up and his wings relaxing behind him. You merely smiled and patted his forearm in response. Jabali, on the other hand, grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms in begrudging compliance.
"Fine. But I'm not gonna get along with 'em or nothin'," Jabali huffed, rolling his eyes. Jabori laughed lightly at his brother's annoyance while Nuru let out a single huff of air.
"I wasn't gonna ask you too, either," Nuru hummed, glancing at Jabali from his peripheral. "Same goes for both of you, (Name), Jabori."
"Copy that," you nodded, the quiet chuckle that seemed to bubble from your throat disappearing the second Leona turned to face you and the rest of the new Savanaclaw members.
"You heard the headmage. I'm headin' back," Leona grumbled and, without missing a beat, brushed past the crowd and headed towards the door. Another hooded figure, one who had been standing beside Leona the entire ceremony, let out an exasperated sigh before raising his hand.
"Savanaclaw! Follow me," he ordered, earning a few half-hearted "Yes, sir"s from the rest of the huddled crowd.
You had to admit, it was pretty entertaining watching Jabali and Jabori marvel at the size of the campus halls. And Nuru too, if only he'd have more obvious reactions rather than just a single flick of a wing or a tilt of the head.
While the halls were nothing compared to the Kingscholar home, it was still pretty big. If you were any smaller than you were now, you'd probably react the same way.
"No way they need these doors to be this big," Jabali murmured, lightly elbowing your arm and pointing at one of the classroom doors. Your eyes followed his finger and a snicker managed to escape you. He wasn't wrong, those doors were freakishly huge, both in height and width.
Jabali went to comment on something else before he stopped, his eyes drifting over toward the new mirror chamber everyone had been led to. The doors were held open to accommodate the crowd, letting handfuls of students walk towards a mirror and get sucked into it, the glass rippling as if took wisps of bodies and left nothing in its wake.
"Savanaclaw House! This'll be your only way in and out of the dorm," the same hooded figure that led you all here called out. He had hopped up onto the lip of the mirror's decoration, using one of the rib-like sculptures as an armrest.
"Hurry up and get in! The faster you do, the faster you'll get to claim your rooms," he snickered before skipping ahead of the first dorm member and hopping into the mirror.
The prospect of first come first served seemed to spur on the first years, causing a near stampede of people trying to get into the mirror first. Nuru hooked an arm around your waist while Jabali did the same with Jabori, the two of them finding a single break in the crowd to get away, Nuru through flight, and Jabali through scaling one of the pillars by the wall.
Lucky for the four of you, the mirror seemed to accommodate more and more people as the crowd diminished. Perhaps through how many bodies reached a specific threshold, you thought. Regardless of the magical mechanics, it allowed Nuru and Jabali to let you and Jabori down after a few minutes.
"So many people," you grumbled under your breath, earning a quiet chuckle from Jabori. Nuru and Jabali nodded at your observation before the four of you hopped into the mirror yourselves.
Immediately, the four of you felt the familiar searing heat of the sun beating down on your skin. It almost felt like home if not for the increased heat coming from the fire serving as lights just outside the dorm's entrance.
Jabali and Nuru were the first to shrug off their robes, the former because he finally had enough of the stuffy fabric, and the latter because the heat was already starting to congregate around his feathers. You and Jabori followed suit, although the two of you merely hiked up your sleeves and flipped down your hoods.
Nuru shook out his wings and let out a soft grunt, one of his feathers falling into the sand beneath your feet. Turning to look over his shoulder, he shot the three of you a soft, almost comforting smile.
"Off we go, then," he hums, waving for you all to follow. If it were anyone else, you three probably would've found offense to a command as expectant as that. But it wasn't just anyone else. It was Nuru, the Guardian, and your dear friend.
The inside of Savanclaw was nothing really to marvel at like the rest of the school's campus. It wasn't cramped, per se, but it was quite a bit more tight than to your liking. Luckily, the walkway opened up the building quite a bit with the roped bridges connecting each floor.
Nuru scanned the room for a moment before his eyes landed on a room on the top floor, tucked all the way in the furthest corner. You figured everyone else left it since it was so far and their mentalities were focusing on that first come first served promise your leader from before declared.
Nuru unfurled his wings and shot up past the bridges, making a beeline towards the unoccupied room. He didn't have to go that fast, of course, considering only a few students were lingering in the walkways who sure as hell weren't planning on making the long walk up there.
Jabali seemed to share their sentiment considering his frustrated "Damn it, Nuru" muttered under his breath. A long, drawn-out sigh escaped his lips before he trudged up along the nearest bridge, his hands shoved in his pockets and his robe slung haphazardly over his shoulder.
You and Jabori took a more relaxed walk up behind him, appreciating the familiar decorations that reminded you of your hometown. Of course, that appreciation turned into apprehension at the thought of Mwezi Miji now being unguarded by the main four.
What if something happened? What if they had sent word of an all-out war between themselves and the Dens and you hadn't heard of it since you all were knocked out in coffins? What if they were all already--
"On your right," Nuru called to you from the doorway, his hand shooting out to grab your shoulder. Ah, you had gotten distracted. Nuru shot you a concerned glance, his brows furrowed in the same way they always were when you got stuck in your head before he ushered you into the room.
Jabali and Jabori had already claimed their beds on the left side of the room, Jabali near the door and Jabori near the window. This left the entire right side open for you and Nuru.
The winged beastman glanced over at you, patiently waiting for your next move. You caught his glance and mustered up a small smile before heading towards the bed closest to the door. Nuru subtly lit up at your decision, a little skip in his step as he moved towards the window.
You managed to hold back a snort at his hidden excitement. He always loved the window spot. Maybe it reminded him of when he was small enough to fit through them back home.
"So, what's up with you and that new first year, huh?" Ruggie huffed as he walked straight into Leona's room, leaning down to pick up a discarded shirt and dropping it in the laundry basket. "I've never seen you react that way other than with them."
"Watch your words, Ruggie," Leona growls from the bed, his head already buried in his pillow. His back was facing Ruggie who still stood in the doorway, but with the way his ears were perked up, it was fairly obvious that he wasn't even close to sleeping.
"My bad," Ruggie snicked in response, holding up his hands defensively. "But, seriously, who was that? Someone I need to watch the pockets of? I mean, who else would it be if not roy--"
"Out," Leona demanded, his hand latching onto his pillow and launching it backward at Ruggie, the soft fabric turning into dust and scattering across the floor as he muttered the incantation under his breath. Ruggie yelped and scampered out of the room, throwing the door closed behind him before he could see the pillow disintegrate into sand.
Leona took a single breath through his nose before slowly sitting up. He rubbed at his face before reaching over to the desk placed beside his bed, his fingers curling around the drawer's handle and pulling it open.
Underneath notebooks thrown carelessly inside lay a single photograph. It was small, yet free of any creases. He lifted the books off of it before slipping the photo out, nearly cradling it in his palm.
Back when he first found the photo tucked neatly in one of his notebooks, he grimaced. It was an annoying keepsake, one that only served to remind him of the bothersome family waiting for him back home. But now...
Now the sight of his little sibling smiling ever so brightly while his older brother screamed in the background about a bug in his hair brought the smallest twitch of a smile to his lips.
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#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland angst#twst angst#twisted wonderland leona#twisted wonderland leona x reader#twst leona#twst leona x reader#leona x reader#twisted wonderland leona kingscholar#twisted wonderland leona kingscholar x reader#twst leona kingscholar#twst leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#twisted wonderland ruggie#twst ruggie#twisted wonderland ruggie bucchi#twst ruggie bucchi#black sheep#platonic#twst platonic
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You've been challenged! (Pokemon AU)
A/N: This is an experimental piece that I wanted to try out because I was inspired by this Pokemon Battle featuring Delphox. This is a different take on a Genshin Impact Pokemon AU. This was done in conjunction with @xianyoon for their Extreme Bias Game.
Special thanks to @floraldresvi for assisting me with the ideas for Thoma's section.
Characters: Lyney, Thoma
Genre: Mostly fluff, with hints of angst
Summary:
Pokemon and Genshin collide in this Pokemon style AU that answers the question: What would happen if the characters you encountered in Genshin Impact challenged you?
If you were challenged by them, what would be their in-game tagline when they challenged you to a battle? What would their title be on the game screen? And most importantly, what would be their character summaries?
In short, it positions the different Genshin Impact characters as in-game coded sprites.
Word Count: Lyney (277 words), Thoma (328 words)
You have been challenged by the House of Hearth's Second in Command, Lyney!
Tagline: "Let's give them a show to remember!"
Brief Summary:
Tricks, Illusions, and Magic galore! Whenever anyone takes a seat at Lyney's shows in the Court of Fontaine, they will be in for a magical time. Charming, charismatic, and talented are all words that describe the renowned magician. Lyney and his aforementioned magic shows are famous across the Fontanian landscape. But few know the man behind the spectacle.
Growing up, Lyney owes much of his present success to his upbringing in orphanage known as: The House of Hearth. His sister, Lynette, and his (adopted) brother, Freminet, also grew up there as well. While not much is known about The House of Hearth, it is full of unexpected surprises.
To Lyney, family means to the world to him. He will do anything to protect it. Second only to the "Father" of the House of Hearth, he is the one that will eventually be "Father's successor." Despite his young appearance, there is a reason that he is the second in command. Anyone who ends up underestimating him, regrets it.
For the Magician Lyney, he always wants to keep people on their toes. His Pokemon are the same way. Some of Lyney's trusted Pokemon partners include the show stopping, Delphox and Meowscarada. They also have some tricks up their sleeves as well.
Special Notes:
Lyney's interest in magic has spread to his Pokemon too. His Delphox is a bit of a magician as well - blink and things will disappear. On the other hand, his Meowscarada is ready for anything. It's able to adapt on the fly, like any good magician does.
-------
You have been challenged by the mysterious foreign fixer, Thoma!
Tagline: "Let me protect you. It's what I want to do."
Basic Summary:
Inazuma is a land of tradition.
However, Thoma himself has a very non-traditional skill set.
As someone with skills in cooking and cleaning, he enjoys using his skills to assist people whenever he can. His earnest kindness, his willingness to help, and loyalty have made him well liked among the Inazuman Citizens, despite their wariness towards foreigners.
As a foreigner, Thoma cares deeply about others. He knows what it's like to have people be wary of you due to things out of his control. As someone with a deep sense of duty and loyalty, he is not someone who forgets his debts or reneges on them.
Thoma's actions have earned him the nickname of fixer, as he is well-versed in the art of fixing problems. For someone like Thoma, resolving things peacefully is always preferable. Whether it's a small fight between children over toys to a fight between foreign and local merchants, Thoma would prefer if both sides could compromise.
But if things things escalate, don't be fooled.
When push comes to shove, Thoma's willing to do what it takes to protect himself and his family from harm. Once you have wormed your way into the heart of the foreign fixer, he will protect you until his dying breath.
For the mysterious Fixer, he is well-informed of any happenings going on in Inazuma. He has to be, due to the nature of his job.
With such a dangerous job, he needs partners he can rely on.
One of his trusted Pokemon partners is Talonflame. Talonflame soars above the skies of Inazuma, its keen eyes alerting Thoma to any potential issues that may arise within Inazuma. And for those conflicts that can't be fixed peacefully and require a 'forceful' touch, Thoma's other partner Blaziken, is there to help - both its master, its family, and the people of Inazuma.
#genshinblr may ebg 2024#Genshinblr EBG May 2024#Library Shadows - Works#((((((( So I'm positioning this AU as like if the Genshin Impact Characters were in-game Pokemon Trainer Sprites. )))))))#((((((( If I could draw this I would. But I can't. So I have to rely on my words to do it for me. )))))))#((((((( I admit I was tempted to do a team listing but I don't think I have enough time. )))))))#((((((( EBG is nice as a way to challenge and try out new ideas for formats I wouldn't think of otherwise. )))))))#((((((( But also I was listening to some Pokemon Champion osts from the different eras of the series. That is how this came about. )))))#(((((((((( I still can't believe how quickly this AU idea came together honestly. ))))))))#(((((((((( It started as a fleeting thought but the more I thought about it the more it worked for me. )))))))#(((((((((( Both Lyney and Thoma are interesting characters b/c there is an element of danger to both of them that I find intriguing. ))))))#((((((( For Lyney specifically I wanted to focus on the fact that he is part of the Fatui. He's Arle's successor! )))))))#((((( Knowing that Lyney is Arle's successor creates an interesting dynamic that I want to explore. Especially with his voice lines. )))#((((((( For the descriptions it started as my attempt at a Dainslief style voiceover. )))))))#(((((( Then it just kinda morphed into like character descriptions for them in the Pokemon game I have in my head. )))))))#((((( It's times like these I wish I could code? or do Photoshop? It would've been fun to sprite-ify Thoma and Lyney. ;_; ))))))#(((((( Fun fact: I did try to make my own Fontaine Pokeball Sprite. Unfortunately my computer couldn't handle it and I lost everything. )))#((((( It wasn't an impressive sprite by any means. But I did try my hand. It was a different and way harder than expected. )))))))#(((((( Like I knew making a sprite would be hard. But I didn't expect how hard it was going to be. )))))#Genshin Impact
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The further out we get from last night's episode the more sad feelings I have, but I think I will simply write fanfic and avoid discourse. At the moment I am working on:
Post-battle, Lucy convinces the Bad Kids to resurrect the Rat Grinders (Kipperlilly POV, Frostkettle)
Rat Grinders discord chat fic (gen, humor)
After Ivy sees "Lucy" (really Fig) at Fabian's party, Lucy's ghost (?) starts talking to Kipperlilly. (Multi-chapter, Kipperlilly POV, Frostkettle, doomed yuri vibes)
Lucy's paladin training with Porter (Lucy POV, exploration of Porter as a dark mentor figure and Lucy feeling torn between Ankarna and Ruvina)
The priority is my Fire Emblem zine fic that is already late, but hopefully I can get some fantasy high fic published instead of just obsessively thinking about it.
#I really like the bad kids but I only see to get fic ideas for the rat grinders right now#their tragic backstory and failgirl plots compel me#I write fic scraps at work when I need a break so a lot of these have scattered scenes written#that discord chat fic is gonna be LONG#I wish I could find a way to format it the way I want that won't take forever#rachelle chats#fantasy high spoilers
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Deadly Eyes
Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort
If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate
Words: 1k
_______________________________
You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage.
Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever.
„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you.
A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“
You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“
Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you.
„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind.
„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“
The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness.
„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“
A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest.
„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke.
„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off.
„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes.
You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“
For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms.
Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“
The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you.
„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away.
„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little.
„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“
Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“
„And you did.“
He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart.
„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between.
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Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3
#dune movie#dune part two#dune part one#paul atredies x reader#paul atreides#paul atreides x you#paul atreides x reader#paul muad'dib#timothée chalamet#comforting#soft touch#paul atreides imagine#paul atreides kissing#protective paul atreides#protective boyfriend
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Quarterfinals, Match 2
expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)
Lauryn Hill:
"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"
"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."
"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."
"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"
Damon Albarn:
"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."
"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."
"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."
"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."
"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"
"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"
"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"
"THE MAIN BLUR"
"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."
"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."
"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."
"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."
"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."
"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."
"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."
"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."
"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"
"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."
"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."
"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"
"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."
"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"
"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."
"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"
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What's Eight Plus Seven?
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five
Prompt from @devious-kitten
Steve had a mild interest in DnD as a freshmen because of a cousin or something. The interest was killed by Eddie being mean since Steve is a jock. Post vecna Eddie finds dust covered DnD handbook Steve explains and Eddie faces a still hurt Steve as a results of his biases
((Half written fic, half rambling about how it would go down. Apologies for the formatting. Also I added more angst than the prompt called for hehe))
Steve has always loved sports. This is a well-known fact. He's played on some sort of sports team from the time he was old enough for his parents to be able to sign him up.
A lesser-known fact is that Steve loves fantasy. Or, at least, he used to. On the playground in elementary school, Steve could often be found playing knights and dragons, and it was anyone's guess if he would be a knight or a dragon on any particular day.
The summer between middle and high school, Steve spent with his grandparents from his mother's side, on the farm they'd retired on in Michigan. A month long stay that he'd shared with his cousins, Amber, Robert, and Christopher. Amber and Robert are twins, four years younger than Steve, and Christopher was two years older and infinitely cooler than anyone else Steve knew.
Christopher was on the varsity basketball team at his high school when he was just a sophomore, captain of the JV football team, president of the chess club, and in a games club.
Christopher was everything Steve wanted to be now that he was going to be in high school. Minus the chess club because
It was during that summer, Steve got to indulge in playing make believe for another summer with his younger cousins, without the judgement of people (his father and peers) who thought he was too old for such things. He also got to learn about make believe for older kids, because Christopher played a game called Dungeons and Dragons with his game club the last month of school before summer break and spent many evenings going over what had happened with Steve as a captive audience.
"I wish I'd brought the books," Christopher had whispered to him one night from the bed, peaking over to look down at Steve in his sleeping bag on the floor, "we could have played."
Steve wishes he'd brought the books, too.
At the end of July, Christopher, Amber, and Robert's parents show up to pick them up, five days before Steve's scheduled flight to Indianapolis. It's a sad goodbye because one summer a year isn't enough with his cousins but they live in Washington. Steve's always jealous their parents drive all the way to pick them up, but a little proud he gets to brag about how he's flown alone since he was seven. No one else in his class can brag about that.
His mom picks him up in Indianapolis and they go back to school shopping while there.
A week later, Steve receives a package from Christopher. Inside Steve finds Advanced Dungeons and Dragons books, three of them, and even though Christopher said nothing about advanced, he's sure he can manage. On the inside cover of the players handbook, Christopher has written:
Hey Steve,
I think you'd rock playing a dwarf paladin. Let's play next summer?
Christopher
1981
He spends the last three weeks of summer vacation reading the player handbook cover to cover and making a character. It's slow going, because letters don't stay where they're supposed to be on the page (that's a problem he's had his whole life, so he's not surprised but he is determined), and he's never been good at math, so getting the stats down on paper isn't easy. He can't decide what he wants to play, so he makes two characters; an elf magic-user and, of course, a dwarf paladin.
(He's a little disappointed you can't be a dragon.)
Steve's never been one to dread the first day of school, but he's never actually looked forward to it, either. It's just been another day.
Until today.
Today is his first day as a high schooler. And the only people who go to the first day are Freshman, except the upper classman that have volunteered to man the booths for school activities for the last hour of the day. It's supposed to help the Freshman get the lay of the land without being overwhelming and Steve's excited for it. He needs to see if Hawkins High has a games club like Christopher's school does.
Here Steve is, that last hour of school. He's already been to the basketball booth, promising to sign up as soon as the season started, and the swim booth because he's got a pool at his house and has been swimming for as long as he can remember and knows he enjoys it. He also stops by the football booth even though he's never played, or cared much, for it. (Maybe he's trying to emulate Christopher, sue him.). So, the final thing is to see if Hawkins High offers a chess club and a game club.
Steve is delighted to see that, though there is no games club, there is a Dungeons and Dragons club! That delight wavers because of the kid manning the booth. His hair is curly and falls just below his ears, with big brown eyes. Steve hates to think it, but he'd be cute if he didn't look like he wanted to stab Steve.
"Yeah, no, keep walking," says the boy, pulling the flier with meeting information on it out from under Steve's hand, where he'd been attempting to read it.
Steve looks up, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was reading that."
"And I said no. Jocks don't play Dungeons and Dragons."
"I could," Steve says, offended. He squints at the name tag sticker slapped diagonally across the way too big jean vest this guy's wearing. E-d-d-i-e. Eddie.
"Have you ever played?"
"Well... no, but-"
"No buts. Mitch let a jock join last year and that was a nightmare. He could barely read the rule book. And with how you were squinting down at the flier, and then my name tag, you're not going to be much better."
Jokes on Eddie, Steve's already read the rule book. Even if it was slowly. "I can read just fine."
"Can you math, then? What's eight plus seven?"
"What?"
"Simple addition. Eight plus seven. What is it?"
Steve knows simple addition. This is fine. It doesn't matter than he's been put on the spot, and that math is hard for the same reason as reading. He can do this. His hand twitches with wanting to pull it up and use it to keep track. He's faster at math when he can do that, but this jerk is mean mugging him and he just knows if he moves his hand, this guy will mock him the rest of the school year.
Eight plus seven. Ok. Make it easier, get to ten. It takes adding two to the eight to get ten. Ok. Take that two away from the seven now. That makes... five! Ok. Ten plus five is-
"Dude, it's fifteen," Eddie snaps.
"I knew that!"
Scoff. "Right. How about seventeen plus six."
Steve can feel his face turning red with embarrassment but he's not going to let this jackass be right. Round up. It takes three to get seventeen to twenty, so take three away from the six-
"23. Point proven. Go. Away. Go play your jock games and leave me- us alone."
Steve opens his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, that he can do this, and that, more importantly, he wants to do this, but laughter cuts through the air and for the first time, Steve notices the audience that has gathered. Three people are laughing at him, and his inability to do mental math, and it makes Steve snap his jaw shut and swallow.
"Mental math isn't that hard, Steve," one of them, Brant, says, as he elbows the guy next to him.
"Thank you!" Eddie says, "that's what I'm saying."
"Whatever, man, like I'd want to play make believe at this age anyway," Steve mutters and rushes away.
If, two weeks later, Steve watches Kyle trip who he now knows is Eddie 'The Freak' Munson in the bathroom, and drag him into a stall for a swirly, well, no he didn't. He briefly thinks of saying something to stop Kyle, but shoves the words down and instead turns on heel and leaves that bathroom just as the sound of flushing and Eddie yelling start. The thick bathroom door does a good job of muffling the noise and if Steve feels any guilt about that, he shoves that down, too.
Besides, Kyle's the captain of the basketball team and if Steve wants a chance to be on that team, he can't stay anything. It's a well-known fact that Steve likes sports, after all. He's going to stick to that. Screw Eddie Munson and his Dungeons and Dragons club.
Steve will get to play Dungeons and Dragons with Christopher next summer.
Except, halfway through the school year, Steve and his parents quickly board a plane bound for Washington. Turns out being as perfect as Christopher was is hard. Overwhelming.
They arrive the day before the funeral, and fly out right after it. Steve barely has time to mourn before they're shuffling him back to school that Monday.
Christopher died, and with him, so does Steve's desire to be just like him. He quits the football team. He keeps basketball because he does like it, even without Christopher's influence. He can't bring himself to get rid of the Dungeons and Dragons books, but he can't look at them, either. They end up in the downstairs hall closet, forgotten on the shelf.
So, years later, after rising to the top of the food chain (no one was ever going to embarrass him like Eddie Munson had again) and then falling to the bottom (who cares about high school popularity when interdimensional monsters exist) and of course, the years of fighting against said interdimensional monsters before ending it all in spring of '86, Steve finds himself, unwillingly, agreeing to host Hellfire since the school banned the club following the events of spring break.
Damn Dustin Henderson. Steve usually has the backbone to say no but Dustin had to play up 'getting a chance to finally just be kids' and fuck, how was Steve going to say no to that? Despite how quickly his own desire to be a freshman playing Dungeons and Dragon had been squashed, he can't be the one to ruin this for them.
"Thanks for hosting, man," Eddie says when Steve lets him in. He's an hour early but had asked if that was okay. Apparently the dungeon master has a lot of prep to do? Not that Steve would know.
"Sure," Steve says, dismissively, because while Eddie and he went through hell together, and Steve carried his sorry ass out of the Upside Down, Steve can't quite let his guard down around him.
It's funny. In the Upside Down, Eddie had made a point to tell him he's changed, is a 'good dude' now. So, what's funny is how much Eddie is exactly the same person he was five years ago. He was an ass to Steve five years ago, and as far as Steve is concerned, was also an ass to Lucas for wanting to play basketball just this year.
He swears to God, if he hears one negative thing about Lucas tonight, he's punching Eddie unconscious, no matter what the rest of Hellfire will do or say about it.
Eddie's been in his dining room for maybe five minutes before he finds Steve in the living room. Steve's got a movie playing but he couldn't tell you which one. He's not really watching it.
"Do you got a table cloth for that big table? Jeff's got a set of metal dice and I'd feel like a real ass if we scratched it on accident."
Steve takes a deep breath before answering. He hates that Eddie is considerate like this, has been since spring break if Steve's being honest, but he doesn't want to see Eddie's good qualities. So, he waves in the direction of the closet. "Yeah. There should be some in the hall closet there. Help yourself."
"Thanks."
He twists on the couch to watch Eddie cross the room to the closet door, listens as the door creaks opens, hears the quiet, pleased noise Eddie lets out when his eyes land on the stack of table clothes. Steve continues to watch as Eddie just grabs the whole stack and yanks them off the top shelf.
Which means his watching as the stack of non-fabric objects, which must have been half atop the table clothes, also tumble out of the closet, bouncing off various parts of Eddie. It's a bunch of miscellaneous items. However, Steve realizes with horror, the book that bounces off Eddie's head is his copy of the Monster Manual. Eddie has stepped back in surprise (and possibly pain), so the Dungeon Master Guide and the Players Handbook bounce off his torso and leg before landing on the ground.
"Fuck," Eddie curses, before he stares down at what just assaulted him. Steve just stares at Eddie, watching as he slowly comes to comprehend what he's seeing. He watches as Eddie bends down and grabs the Player Handbook, the last thing to fall, from a top the pile. "What the-"
Steve stands, suddenly defensive, but doesn't actually say anything or move closer. He just watches as Eddie examines the book, flipping it from front to back in his hand like the title will change if he does that enough times.
Then, Eddie turns to him, bewildered. "Present for one of the kids? Thought they all had their own copies."
"No."
Eddie flips the book open. Reads the words written in there so many years ago. "Who's Christopher? Wait. 1981? You were playing D&D in 1981?"
"None of your business, and no," Steve says, now kicking into action, stomping up to Eddie and snatching the book from his hands.
Eddie hold his hands up in defense before his eyes turn mischievous. The same glint in them now that was there when Eddie'd leaned into this space in the RV and called him big boy. "Are you lying to me, Stevie? You've played before, haven't you?"
It makes Steve's blood boil. "No. I haven't played!"
"Alright. You could now, you know," Eddie says. And it's the way he says it, all nonchalant and like he's trying to be coy about it- it tips something over inside Steve. A bottle that held his humiliation and hurt from all those years ago.
"Oh, now I'm good enough for D&D? Now I can join? Aren't I too much of a jock for you!?"
"Whoa, what's with the hostility-"
"What's eight plus seven, Eddie!?" Steve snaps. His memory might be shit these days, with all the concussions, but the unfortunate part about Steve is that he always seems to remember the bad. And he remembers Freshman First Day like yesterday. "No? How about seventeen plus six? Come on, mental math isn't hard. Or don't you remember? I'm just a stupid jock too slow on the uptake, or no, what was it you said? It'll be a nightmare to play with me, 'cause I might be barely able to read the rules?"
He watches as Eddie's face morphs from confusion, to understanding and horror. "Holy shit, Steve. That was you- you wanted to join Hellfire-"
"Yeah, and you made it pretty fuckin' clear I didn't belong in it."
"I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have- if I'd known you, I never would have-"
"That's the problem, Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving the book in front of him. "You didn't know me. You looked at me and decided for me that I was going to be a jock and nothing else and then humiliated me in front of other people! You didn't even bother to try to know me. I spent three weeks reading this stupid book cover to cover because I knew I was shit at reading and I still wanted to try anyway."
He sees Eddie puffing up in anger. "Well, I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even!"
"Yeah, because I was a dumb, hurt kid who decided that it was better to hurt than be hurt. As if you weren't exactly the same that day, lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math. Fuck you, Munson!" Steve walks away, not hearing anything Eddie shouts after him as he sprints up the stairs and shuts himself in his room.
Steve knows he was a dick in high school, and it's not Eddie's fault he was a dick. Steve made choices he's not proud of and no one forced those choice on him. But Eddie doesn't get to throw that back in his face. Not when Eddie made him feel humiliated and stupid on the first goddamn day of high school, long before Steve became mean himself.
#pre-steddie#my fic#prompt#sophomore eddie is a jerk#but only because he thinks steves gonna be a jerk first so hes gotta beat him to it#also steves very mean to eddie in his thoughts but its only his thoughts#tw: minor character death#its an oc tho#tw: suicide implied but not stated
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hehe here's this 2k brain rot that @suiana's post gave me (permission proof - not a thief!)
i turned caelus into a they them not sorry. also if the formatting is odd, i’m on my pc and i usually use my phone so.
They’re back. Again.
March has to stifle the screams of anger she wants to let out as the shackles of stillness finally free her. Like ice melting Caelus and Dan Heng begin to move around, continuing where they had left them stranded and abandoned, left to stay stagnant at their whim.
The worse thing is that she can’t even complain, not for lack of desire to do so, no, no she physically cannot voice her complaints. And March knows she isn't crazy, she’s caught the twinge of annoyance in Welt’s eyes when he unpaused; seen the ghost of a scowl on Seele’s face; even the carefully controlled hardened gaze of Dan Heng has cracked before.
The Trailblazer is the only one who hasn’t cracked, obediently stopping when they will them to do so, and ever so happy to come back at their will. March wants to corner them and ask how and why, if they know what's going on, but alas: she must trot along with her friends at their wicked will.
Dan Heng doesn't know what you are, because surely you can’t be an Aeon. Aeons don’t hold the powers you do, even if they did surely there would be some record of you in the archives, right? No Aeon dead or alive has the ability to puppeteer humans, and it frightens him that there is something out there that is using him in such a way.
It embitters him, both the unknown surrounding them and the way he is treated; how his whole world is put on a pause while he remains aware. Aware of how the breeze stills and the stars stop twinkling, how the world goes silent. What could hold such power?
A shudder runs down his spine as he follows the Trailblazer’s party.
Welt has witnessed a lot in his time. Nothing quite like them, though.
Himeko has witnessed a lot in her time. Nothing quite like them, though.
Bronya, Seele, Sampo, and Natasha have witnessed a lot in their time. Nothing quite like them, though.
Yukong, Loucha, Fu Xuan, and Jing Yuan have witnessed a lot in their time. Nothing quite like them, though.
Kafka, Blade, and Silver Wolf have witnessed a lot in their time. Nothing quite like them, though.
The different paths they all walk may intervene, as their personalities and beliefs may differ but there is one truth they can all agree on.
They hate you.
Caelus doesn’t. Rather, Caelus can’t help but love you; you gave them life and led them through their trials. You keep them safe and armored. You help them find the words to face others when their mind goes blank.
To Caelus you are the world.
The Aeons came to know of you when Dan Heng’s frantic searches focused on them for a little too long. While he was scanning the records they saw you. You were intriguing from the get go, a pretty thing, sitting comfortably as a figure in the sky. The Preservation and The Nihility, whose current forms allow for more ease with floating went as far as they could to reach you.
Yet you remain just out of reach of the Aeons.
The Abundance uses one of her many arms to steady herself as she crawls along the very fabrics of their reality to get a closer look at you. And what a darling thing you are! Excitement that she hasn’t felt in a long, long time, perhaps for the first time ever fills her up inside. With a shaky hand, she motions for the other Aeons to take a closer look at you.
From there the… shall we say, worship, began.
Nanook, The Destruction, takes note of your fondness for certain characters, and what his darling likes, he likes, so when the Antimatter Legion he has blessed come across the ones you are fond of, their attacks are lighter and they lose his blessing temporarily. Sure, he wished some of the gushing from beyond the sky was for him, but you so rarely see his face on the screen (only ever in the Simulated Universe you put that Caelus through) he can’t blame you.
IX, The Nihility, will not change in their ways, not even someone like you can shift the nihilism they embody, but, perhaps you don’t notice it, your teams deal better damage over time, don’t they? Don’t take their blessings lightly, it took a lot to bring them there.
Yaoshi, perhaps makes it the most obvious (despite you never noticing), your favorite vessels get a wonderfully boosted health bar. You never knew to question how Blade managed to get nine thousand hit points.
It’s hard to pinpoint who thought of it first, perhaps IX or Fuli, but the Aeons, the strongest Aeons, gathered to pull you down from beyond the sky. Through a (top secret) ritual you find yourself being hurtled down like a meteor into the freezing snow of the Outlying Snow Plains.
…
You wake to the kind face of Caelus, which is a bit odd because he’s not supposed to be so… high res. Or real.
“Are you alright, My Lord?” The title doesn’t immediately resonate with you, so you disregard hearing it. When you don’t answer right away they frown in worry, hands moving to yours, gently covering them with their warmth.
“What happened? Why am I here?”
“You fell from the sky, do you not remember?”
“No,” what sky would you have fallen from? You tend to stay on the ground.
Caelus worries their bottom lip and helps you sit up. “Oh.” There’s a pause. “Did you not mean to come here? I thought….”
“Hm?” You prod, gently encouraging them to talk.
“I thought you were coming to see me,” their face is tinged pink and facing down in their lap. Caelus’ hands feel hot and you rush to reassure them.
“I’m glad to see you, but I don’t know how or why I’m here,” you pause, cringing internally. “Caelus.” Fuck, that is their name right? No last minute changes?
Luckily their face lights up when you say it and you find yourself pressed into their soft chest, their arms around you in a bear hug.
“You’re really them.” A breathy, ecstatic phrase. Their face buries into your hair and Caelus doesn’t loosen their hold until a knock at their door.
“Trailblazer! Pompom here, requesting an update on Their Grace’s status.”
Caelus gently detaches themself from you and opens the door to reveal the tiny rabbit-oid conductor. Pompom bashfully rubs their hands together when they catch sight of you awake and looking at them.
“Hello, Your Grace, Pompom is glad to see you awake and healthy.”
What a cute creature, you think. “Thank you, Conductor Pompom.”
They let out a squeak at your words and nod. “Pompom needs to go check in on the other passengers, but let Pompom know if you need anything, okay, Your Grace?”
“Oh, thank you Pompom.” They hurry away, stubby feet padding quickly down the carpeted halls. You turn your head to Caelus, “what was that about?”
“Hm?” Their golden eyes meet yours, head tilting.
“Why did they call me those things, Your Grace?”
“Because you are our God above Aeons. Do you… were you somehow unaware of that?”
The words hit you like a freight train. “No, I’m not.” It’s all you can think to say.
Caelus sits next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your knee. “Yes you are. We can feel it. You are the one that controls this world and gives us life.”
Controls this world… and gives them life… fuck, the game… you’ve been playing these sentient beings. Your tummy hurts at the knowledge .
“Oh, I’m— I’m sorry.” Your eyes prick with tears, the gravity of what you’ve been doing; how you’ve dragged these people into battles for fun. You couldn’t have know, but it doesn’t stop the guilt eating at you.
“No, no, what are you apologizing for?” Caelus’ hands cup your face, a finger catching the tears that drip over the brim of your waterline. Their voice drops to a whisper, “please don’t cry, My Lord.”
You suddenly feel very watched, like a million eyes are on you. Caelus never closed his door. You look up and catch sight of March 7th’s glare. The intensity of it makes you flinch back, making Caelus look up, over to:
“March, don’t give them that look.” They scold the girl, who turns the withering look to them.
“Why are you taking care of that monster? We told you to leave them to freeze in the snow.” The words make your heart sink. Being on this side of such venomous words stings, especially from someone you never would have pegged to be so hateful.
Caelus bares thier teeth, a mix of offense and hurt on their face. “And I told you I would do no such thing to our God.”
“That is no God.” Her voice shakes as does her head, before turning around and walking away.
“Don’t listen to her.” Caelus shakes their head in disappointment. “She doesn’t understand what all you do for us. Please don’t hold it against her.”
…
They, the Astral Express, do not like you. Caelus and Pompom do, they hold you in reverence, which is better than how March, Himeko, Welt, and Dan Heng treat you. It’s all dirty looks and only partially veiled insults. Caelus gets into arguments with them over you.
You hate to think that you’re harming the friendships between them, and when you brought your concern up, Caelus dismissed you saying you are worth it all.
Yeah, there’s that. You’ve tried to explain that you are not God, but they won’t hear you out. :(
It’s a perfectly normal day on the Astral Express when the Aeons come.
Nanook is the first one to descend into the Parlor Car; Caelus and Dan Heng immediately drawing their weapons, The Destruction laughs once, eyes moving to focus solely on you.
“It’s so good to see you, My darling Lord.” His voice is low and deep, and the gold flowing freely from the wounds (?) on his arms leaves a trail on the carpet as he approaches to kneel in front of you. From your peripheral you see Dan Heng and Caelus share a look before lowering their respective weapons.
Nanook, you recognize him from the Simulated Universe blessings screen, grabs your hand, gracing the back of your palm with a chaste kiss. His golden eyes peek up at you from behind long lashes.
“How has the Express been treating you? I regret not being able to welcome you to this existence, but alas the ritual took a lot out of us…”
What.
“Oh, uh,” your eyes flicker around the cabin nervously. “I’m doing alright, th-thanks…”
“Now, now, don’t tease the poor thing,” a beautiful woman (Aeon) walks in, one with many, many arms draped in soft looking, white cloth. Yaoshi’s eyes soften when she meets your gaze. “Hello, Your Grace, it’s an honor to meet you in the flesh.”
Caelus, Dan Heng, March, everyones’ (save for you and the two Aeons) bodies droop, posture faltering. IX, The Nihility, has arrived. An odd feeling, akin to that of a weighted blanket, is pushed onto your body. It’s them, their astral, cosmic form much smaller than what should be made of their status, laying on your body like a boa. They don’t speak, though you aren’t sure they could in this form.
Yaoshi’s eyes flicker with amusement, and Nanook pulls himself up. “The others were unable to make it, but,” her gaze chills and is directed at the crew of the Express. “We all wish to make it known that disrespect, anything short of reverence toward Our Grace, will not be tolerated.”
Welt visibly shudders at the threat, and Himeko shares a look with Dan Heng. They need to reflect on how they feel towards you, tha much is certain.
#verified hyperfixat post#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr#hsr x reader#sahsrau#self aware honkai star rail#honkai star rail aeons#aeons hsr#aeons x reader#caelus x reader#nanook x reader#yaoshi x reader#astral express#astral express x reader
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DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER
Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?
Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…
Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)
“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.
Peter Parker. Bullseye.
You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.
It was too close to yours for your liking.
“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.
“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”
“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.
For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.
Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.
“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.
“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.
You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.
You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.
“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”
He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.
—————————————————————————
It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.
The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.
Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?
Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).
Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.
You: Who is this?
Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.
You: I think you have the wrong number.
You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.
Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?
You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.
Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?
Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.
You: How did you even get my number anyways?
Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)
Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.
You: I’m sure.
Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?
You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.
Peter: You’ll regret that pips.
You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.
Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.
————————————————————————————
It was disappointment.
You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.
Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.
Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.
Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.
Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.
“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.
“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”
“Two papers and exam prep. You?”
“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.
He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.
“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.
“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.
Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.
Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.
You were so incredibly fucked.
———————————————————
You took a deep breath. Then another.
You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.
You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.
All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.
You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.
Fuck it.
You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.
You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.
How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.
“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.
“I was admiring the greenery.”
“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.
He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.
“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.
You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.
“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.
Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.
Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.
“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”
He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.
You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.
You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.
“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.
“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.
You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.
“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”
His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”
Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.
“Don’t start with me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.
“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”
“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.
“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.
“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”
You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.
“Elaborate Parker.”
He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”
You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.
“Hmm. I like it.”
“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.
“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”
He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”
You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”
“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”
You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.
He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.
“You’re gross Parker.”
“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”
You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.
“Whatever you say pip.”
“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.
—————————————————————
A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.
Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.
“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.
“Some research paper. Here.”
You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.
Fuck.
He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.
He was still staring.
Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.
You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.
“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”
“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.
He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.
“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.
“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.
You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?
You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.
Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.
“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”
His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.
“How much more?”
His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.
Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.
Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.
You hated that you found it hot.
He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.
“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.
“I won’t. Will you?”
“I might.”
His smile grew.
“ I still hate you, you know.”
“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.
A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?
Because he was so fucking fine.
A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.
You’d do anything to hear it again.
“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.
“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”
“Mhm. But you hate me.”
He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.
“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.
You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.
Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.
“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.
Yes. Yes, please.
“You’re killing me.”
“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.
Until he just… stopped.
Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?
“Parker?”
He smiled coyly.
“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.
“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”
“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.
“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.
Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.
“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.
#peter parker#andrew!peter x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#tasm peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfic#tasm peter#tasm fluff#tasm andrew garfield#tasm smut#andrew!peter fluff#andrew!peter imagine#andrew!peter parker#andrew!peter smut#andrew garfield#andrew!peter fanfiction#spiderman fic#spiderman x reader#spiderman fanfiction#spider man fic#peter parker spiderman#tasm fic#tasm fanfiction#andrew spiderman#spiderman smut#spider man fanfiction
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Chef’s Kiss
Nico x fem!reader, soft!Nico, domestic!Nico
summary: Nico fluff, basically
notes: i just really love soft nico and couldn’t get him out of my head so here’s this (also ignore the fact i keep using the same pics in my posts, i need to find more 💀)
[2k]
~
Nico was always trying to do little things to bring a smile to your face. Whether it was having the laundry washed, folded, and put away by the time you got home, sending you funny videos and silly selfies throughout the day, or simply having a glass of your favorite wine waiting on you as soon as you walked through the door, he loved providing small moments of happiness for you. He didn’t have time to do things for you often, his schedule getting increasingly busier as the season goes on, but today he had a completely free afternoon and wanted to have your favorite meal plated and waiting for you to enjoy as soon as you got off work. The idea came to him when you called him on what was supposed to be your lunch break.
“Neeks, I’m so sorry but I have to work late again. I’m having to re-do all of my reports for the day because my boss didn’t like the format that I used, even though it’s the exact format he told me to use three days ago! I swear sometimes he just wants to make my life a living hell. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
Nico had a fond smile on his face, despite the nature of your call; hearing you rant to him about work was always something he looked forward to. While he didn’t love the fact that you were upset and that your boss was a grade A asshole, he loved being the one you came to when you were frustrated and just needed to blow off steam. It always made him happy to know that he was the one you called when you needed a mid-day pick me up on particularly stressful days. He had tried to tell you multiple times to just quit—that he makes enough for the both of you to live on – but you wouldn’t even entertain the thought. You’d always tell him no and that you needed to pull your weight with the bills and rent, too. You didn’t want to have all of the tears you shed while you were in college go to waste. To quote your exact words ‘I’m going to use this damn degree even if it kills me’. He admired your work ethic and that you didn’t want to have him be your own personal bank, but it was times like this he wishes you would just take his suggestion to heart and actually quit.
“I understand, but don’t work too late, schatz. It’s not good for you. Tuck and I will be here waiting on you when you get here,” Nico looks over at the cat quietly snoozing over on the couch. “I noticed you left your lunch in the fridge; do you need me to bring you something? I don’t have to go back to the rink today for anything, so I could pick up something from that sushi place you like and we could have a little lunch date? Give you a few minutes to reset and recharge?”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t have time to eat today anyways. At this point working through lunch is the only way I’ll be able to come home before midnight. Thanks for the offer, though, Neeks. I have to go, my boss is calling me, probably to tell me something else I did wrong. I’ll text you when I leave, love you,” you hang up the phone, not giving Nico a chance to respond. He knows your boss hates when he catches you taking personal calls on company time, so he just sends you a simple “I love you, too. Please eat something and don’t work too hard” text since you hung up before he had time to tell you himself.
As soon as he pressed send, Nico grabbed his keys and took off to the grocery store. He really only went to pick up the ingredients to make dinner, but he couldn’t help making a quick stop at the local florist, grabbing a small bouquet of daisies he knows you’ll love. As he was driving home, he remembers this bakery you had told him you’ve been wanting to try, so he finds himself in said bakery picking out a few baked goods for you to taste test (and maybe a few for himself, too). By the time he had made it back home it was well past five, when you typically leave your office for the day. Once he brought his haul of groceries, flowers, and pastries in the door, Tuck greeted him by meowing loudly for his food.
“Sorry, Tuck, I’m late for dinner, aren’t I?” Nico asks the cat as he walks over and fills the hangry cat’s food bowl. “Now that you’re fed, I need to get to work on feeding your mom. That is, if I can manage not to burn anything.”
Nico got to work immediately, turning on the cooking playlist you had made and grabbing his ‘Kiss the Swiss’ apron you had jokingly gifted him for Christmas. He pulled out the recipe book that your mom gave you two as a house-warming gift when you first moved in. Just last week you had been talking about how you missed your mom’s famous pasta, so he decided that was his attempted dish of the night. He laid out all of the ingredients and followed the recipe as closely as he could, paying special attention to all of the little notes your mother added in the margins of the typed recipe. About an hour into Nico’s cooking you sent him a text that you were nearly finished and would be home soon, but he was so busy trying to perfect making pasta from scratch that he never even looked at his phone. When he was on his third attempt at the pasta dough, he heard the front door open.
He looked over at the clock to see that it was nearly seven-thirty. He heard your keys hit the bowl sitting on the small table beside the front door and your sigh of relief once you took your shoes off. He could hear the soft thuds your feet made on the hardwood while you walked into the living room. He looked up from the counter to see your tired body drift over to the couch where Tuck laid sound asleep.
“Hey, Tuck. How was your day? Did you catch a lot of Z’s? Dream about catching mice? Poop on your dad’s pillow again?” Nico heard your soft voice say, chuckling at your last question.
The poor kitten had, somehow, got locked in yours and Nico’s bedroom a few weeks ago and neither of you noticed until it was well past feeding time and the little furball hadn’t come running into the kitchen screaming for his dinner. It took the two of you twenty minutes to hear the soft meows coming from your bedroom, the TV in the living room having drowned them out for most of the day. As soon as you opened the door Tuck came sprinting out of the room as fast as he could, acting as if he’d been in there for days. He ran straight to his food bowl and turned around, glaring at Nico and yourself. Later that evening the two of you made your way to the bedroom to settle down for the night only to find that Tuck had left a nice, smelly present on his pillow. Nico was appalled, to say the least. Gagging and holding his pillow out with straight arms as if it was poisonous. You, however, were doubled over with laughter. You fell onto the bed and were laughing hysterically when Nico finally came back into the room, no pillow to be seen.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing; it’s disgusting! The cat shit on my pillow!” Nico expressed, standing in front of the bed with his arm crossed, looking like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.
“Neeks, it’s hilarious! Out of all the places in the room he could’ve shit, he saw your pillow and thought ‘Ah, yes. Dad’s pillow. I think this will be my new bathroom.” You wipe the tears from your eyes, slightly out of breath from your laughing fit.
“Well, of course it’s funny when it’s not your pillow! If he would’ve shit on your pillow, you would be as upset as I am.” Nico huffed, still in his childish stance.
“Wait, where is your pillow?”
“In the trash.”
“You threw away the whole pillow!?” you exclaimed, starting to laugh all over again.
“Of course, I threw away the whole pillow! I’m not about to sleep on that thing tonight! It’s contaminated!”
“Nico, you could’ve just gotten a new pillow case. You didn’t have to throw your whole pillow away! What are you going to sleep on tonight?” You asked him, amusement clear in your voice.
“Well…I didn’t think that far ahead,” Nico said, his stance deflating a little.
He ended up sleeping on a throw pillow from the couch that night, picking up a new pillow on his way home from practice the next morning. Since then, the two of you have always made sure to keep your bedroom door open anytime Tuck isn’t in his usual spot on the couch.
Nico smiles at the memory, completely forgetting the fact that he was supposed to be kneading the pasta dough in his hands. By the time his thoughts circulate back to the task at hand, he hears you ask the cat “Where’s your dad, huh?” followed by the sound of your clothes rustling as you move to get off of the couch.
“Nico? You in here?” you call as you walk around the corner of the living room into the kitchen. “Neeks- Oh, there you are. What are you doing?” You stopped in the doorway of the kitchen when you took in the scene in front of you. The pots and pans on the stove, the steam coming from a pot of boiling water, the smell of chicken in the oven, and the bouquet of flowers and box of pastries on the counter next to them. Then your eyes move over to Nico, noticing he was absolutely covered in flour. He had flour in his hair, on his face, on his apron, in the floor, and all over the counter.
“Nico, what the hell are you doing? What is all of this?” you asked him once the two of you made eye contact.
“Well, I was trying to have dinner waiting on you when you got home because I know you’ve had a shitty day, but I’ve just now realized that I don’t know how to make pasta from scratch.”
“Why are you trying to make pasta from scratch?” you walk towards him, laughing at how distraught he looks.
“You said you’ve been craving your mom’s pasta recipe, so I thought it would be a good way to cheer you up after the day that you’ve had,” he replied, grabbing a towel to wipe the flour off of his hands.
“Nico, I love you, I do. And I appreciate the effort, but please throw that ball of…whatever that is in the trash and just use dried pasta next time,” you look over at what’s supposed to be pasta dough, reaching him and placing your arms on his shoulders, hands coming together to rest on the back of his neck.
“I try to make you a nice meal and this is the response I get? No ‘nice try’ or ‘wow, it smells great in here!’” he jokes, looking down at you, attempting to look offended, but his eyes only reflect love and amusement.
“You’ll get real praise when you learn how to make pasta from scratch. For now, consider this your compliment,” you stand on your toes, pressing a small kiss to his lips.
“You call that a compliment? Read the apron and try again.”
You laugh before meeting him halfway for a real kiss this time, thinking to yourself just how lucky you were to have Nico in your life.
#nico hischier#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier fanfic#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier one shot#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier x you#hockey#new jersey devils#hockey fic#hockey imagine#nhl blurb#nhl oneshot#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#nhl#nhl hockey#nhl fic
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Hello, can i ask for Octavinelle dorm with Octavinelle! M! reader?
He's a really chill and silly guy but somehow crazy good with money and business. Like, if you give him 10 bucks and tell him to do whatever he wants with it and come back with 100 bucks, he'll somehow come back with 10000 bucks and become the CEO of some company. And, yeah, he's got these goofy ideas that somehow just work.
characters: the octavinelle boys x male octavinelle reader
tags: relationship not specified, crack (?), imagines format
warnings: a bit of swearing (just one word really)
author's notes: i love yall yall's readers are so goofy they're so fun to write
Azul Ashengrotto
He appreciates how you’re one of the more level-headed guys around, though if only you could lay off the joking and teasing
But as long as you don’t cause him trouble he doesn’t mind you as much - and you end up proving to him that you are the very opposite
One day, he asks you to run him a errand (with fair compensation, of course; he is the soul of benevolence after all)
It’s quite simple - fetch him a sum of money Sam owes the Mostro Lounge (you don’t question how and why a fully-grown adult owes a seventeen year old money)
And so you go over to Sam’s. You won’t lie, you’re a little curious of what this debt entails. You’ll see if you can squeeze some details out of Sam
You meet up with Sam, all smiles as per usual. Though when you mention that you’re there because of the debt, he takes you into the shop’s backroom instead
He gives you an envelope, stuffed with the goods no doubt. He seems insistent on not letting on anything - but then you hit him with a classic move
“Now, now, we’re not in a rush, are we? I don’t even work for the Mostro Lounge. Least you can do is entertain a guy. I’ll keep my lips sealed.”
Sweet-talk and half-truths are a way to a salesman's heart after all. It’s true that you don’t work for Azul but that’s only because you have other businesses going on right now
Sam gives in with a sigh. It seems as if he’s been carrying such a secret for a while and needs an outlet. And you are definitely here for it
You come back to Octavinelle, skipping merrily (if not physically, at least you were on cloud nine mentally) and carrying more than just an envelope. Azul, on the other hand, is borderline seething for whatever reason. Little does he know
The moment you reach his office, you toss him the envelope and is about to leave - until he sees not one but the two enormous bags you carried in your hands that are definitely filled with money
Distraught, he questions you on how the hell you manage to score that much money. You shrug while walking towards the exit. It's just a matter of persuasion and creative thinking.
Business is so easy, you thought.
Jade Leech
Similar to Azul, it’s nice to have someone who has their shit together - plus, he finds it amusing when you mess with Azul. It reminds him of Floyd’s antics
Once in a while, you’re a pleasant guy to just sit down and have small talk with, though at times he wishes you would let on about yourself more
For his information, you only let slip when you want to; and he finds that out himself one fateful day
He jokes that if there’s anyone who could overpower Azul and steal his authority over the Mostro Lounge, it’d be you. You chuckle knowingly at this
Feeling a little playful, you propose to him a bet - if you manage to do so by next week, he owes you ten thaumarks. But if you don’t, you owe him ten thaumarks
He lets out a carefree laugh, amused. He reserves his assumptions and agrees to play along with you for the next few days
He doesn’t see you in a while. Not intentionally - he genuinely can’t find you anywhere, though he only attributes it to the fact that there’s only so much time he can use to look for you
After a whole week has passed, he seats himself where the bet initially took place and waits patiently for you to show up. True to your promise, you come waltzing up to him casually, your hands in your pockets and a friendly smile on your face
You slide next to him as he asks you how’ve you been and the two of you update each other on your wellbeing. Then he starts chuckling, a hand over his mouth in true Jade fashion. You smirk in response, knowing too well what that chuckle is for
And in true you fashion, you pull out ten thaumarks and extend them to him
…wait a minute. That’s ten thousand thaumarks.
You savor the sight of a Jade with his mouth agape. You snicker at his bewilderment as he tries to process what’s happening in front of him
“It’s true that I didn’t usurp Azul’s power or anything - but that’s only because I’m not interested in the Mostro Lounge. I’d rather have it as a rival than my property.”
After he gets over his initial shock, he offers you a sinister, toothy grin. You respond with a finger to your lips. He nods understandingly and takes the money from you with no protest.
Floyd Leech
You’re more low-key compared to him but he still appreciates having a fellow pain-in-Azul’s-ass
Of course, it depends on his mood still, but his tolerance of you is pretty consistent despite everything. You take it as a compliment
On one of his good-mood days, he’s chatting it up with you and laying out potential ways to mess with Azul more. You bring your own idea to the table
“How about this? I get a common word used by literally everyone trademarked and anyone who dares utter it has to pay me. And that includes Azul himself.”
He guffaws at your ridiculous idea and voices his opinion. You laugh yourself and don’t deny it. It is pretty far-fetched… but you have your ways
Plus, he has to admit that would piss off Azul super bad it’d be worth the trouble
The two of you hang out from time to time as usual when behind it all, you’re setting up Azul’s eventual downfall
Or not. You don’t actually care about taking Azul down but it would be pretty funny. Also you’ll get to impress Floyd in some shape or form which you care more about frankly
Once the deed is done, it’s announced everywhere you could think of - you did it under a fake name of course. But the money you’ll be getting can’t be any more real
What did you trademark? The word “so”.
When you relay this story to Floyd, he lets out a howl of a laugh you could’ve mistaken him for a wolf - he has no idea what strings you had to pull to actually manage that but color him entertained
…until he realizes that he’d also have to pay you every time he uses that word. Then his mood goes down instantly
You shrug that realization off by giving him a pass since he let you entertain the idea in the first place.
Floyd happy again :)
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#platonic twst x reader#platonic twisted wonderland x reader#twst x male reader#twisted wonderland x male reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech#jade leech x reader#floyd leech#floyd leech x reader#azul ashengrotto x male reader#jade leech x male reader#floyd leech x male reader#octavinelle
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The truth lays within jealousy- Bellamy Blake
Warnings: basically just cursing and knife play
Summary: Bellamy's your enemy but things begin to take a turn once you start fighting to push through emotions you feel towards each other.
Bellamy Blake made my blood boil, and I prayed I made him feel the same way. I was best friends with his sister, Octavia. Meaning, I had no choice but to be in the same tent or room as him. The rivalry between Bellamy and I formed when the 100 first came to Earth. We were on dividing sides, he had everyone in his control and made them feel free but that ended dangerously. I was with the group that wanted to help and make sure we survived.
“Do you always have to disagree with me, Blake?”
He turned to look my way, his hand resting on the map below our waists laying on a table. “Do you always have to have disagreeable ideas–Kane?” He spit my last name out as if it left a bitter taste.
I’m just thankful he didn’t call me that other name, the one he knew I so deeply despised. My eyes rolled on instinct, “You’re such a dick, you are aware of that flaw right?”
He glared my way, “You always keep me aware don’t you, princess?”
I fucking hated him, “Don’t call me that, Blake.”
“What will you do if I say it again?”
My father made me train with guards on the Ark since I was a child, I could easily take Bellamy, and him forgetting that made me always want to remind him. I stabbed my knife into the wood table and as soon as I did Octavia walked in.
She moved the tent opening away, “What is going on?”
Bellamy folded his arms making his muscles fight with his shirt. I tried my best to not stare but as much as I loathed this man and wished him nothing but the absolute worst–he was the formation of my desires. And that left lingering resentment. “Your friend is threatening me, O.”
I unstuck the knife and pointed it at him from the other side of the table as I talked, “He was testing me, Tavia. It’s his favorite pastime,” I said staring harshly at Bellamy.
“How about you both go train, maybe away from each other? You can work with Murphy and I’m sure you can find someone, Bell.”
I gave a half smile, “I’m sure every–what’s the number now?” I made it look like I was deep in thought, “Like 50 girls now? Are willing to train with you, you know your way around the 100, Blake.”
Bellamy gave me dead eyes as his jaw clenched. I struck a nerve. “O, get out.”
Octavia usually hates when Bellamy orders her around just cause he's older than her but she listened without a fight this time. She knew I crossed some form of a line. She mouthed sorry to me and walked out.
I moved over to him, my knife laying close to his throat. He didn't care, he didn't even bat an eye. He almost smirked at the notion.
“Tell me, princess, was I supposed to pent up everything I was feeling like you do? Tell me, how's that going for you?”
My eyes widened a bit, “I’m sorry do you want me to just go sleeping around with every dude on this earth because what? I can’t deal with my emotions correctly?”
He bit his tongue.
“I guess maybe I should take your advice because I see how greatly it’s been going for you. The known asshole you only go to for a hit and quit it.”
Bellamy eyed me, “Is this you trying to offer up, princess?”
My breath was shaky, I scoffed, “Go float yourself.” I stormed out of the tent and went to the only place inside Arkadia where you could blow off steam. The training spot. Bellamy usually overwatches, sometimes with Lincoln so I wouldn’t be surprised if he made his way over here.
Murphy made his way over to me, “Need a partner?”
I nodded my head and decided to not take my anger out on him–at least not with words. “Yes, but I can’t promise I’ll go easy on you, Murphy.”
He smiled as he got into his stance, “I didn’t expect you to. I remember seeing you training from time to time with soldiers. I’m going to have to bring my A-game now.”
I laughed and it made me feel a bit better, say what you want about Murphy–but his sarcasm and wit will always make you laugh. I got into position and Murphy punched towards me and I moved my hand fast enough to push it away and block it. We kept going back and forth, not taking it seriously.
Soon, as expected Bellamy appeared. He crossed his arms as he analyzed our performances. Suddenly both of us began to take it a bit seriously, but I chose to ignore Bellamy. He knew I was holding back, it showed in Bellamy's face.
“Let me try.”
I ignored him but Murphy stopped fighting, I tried to regain my breath. Murphy was like Bellamy’s sidekick since the beginning, that faded and nobody tried to make an enemy of Bellamy. Like it or not he did run a lot of things we live by. Especially with Clarke gone.
He got into position and I immediately went to attack. I moved close and elbowed his face causing him to move forward. I went straight for a kick to his bent knee and easily got him down. When getting up his hand stayed on my thigh as he rised up, it was like he was purposefully trying to mess me up. That could be the only reason.
“Damn Bell, maybe she should replace you as a trainer,” Octavia said while spectating. Monty and Jasper laughed.
Bellamy stood up and hit me immediately in the gut. From the force, I took a couple of steps back, and I cursed under my breath. He shrugged with a grin forming on his lips. When he went to pull another move I grabbed his arm pointed it up, and used my left arm to push down on his arm. I twisted his shoulder and I knew I was causing pain. I had this move done to me and I was in pain for a couple of days.
For a split second, I heard a groan from him, it almost put a smile on my face. “C’mon Blake, are you even trying? If you lose this–I can only assume where you’re going to go to…or who.” Maybe it was a low blow but he pissed me off before.
My fist came towards him and he grabbed my arm tightly, almost hard enough to leave a bruise, and flipped me onto the ground. I tried not to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was hanging onto this fight by a thread. I kicked his stomach and he caught my leg and tried to make me fall but I did the one trick that took me years to master–I kicked with enough force off the ground for a second to gain a stance to be able to kick him back.
Bellamy went to hit me in the face but I got to him first and elbowed him. He spit out blood and turned his head up with a grin as he wiped the blood. He tricked me and by making it seem like he was going for a low attack, I didn’t move up in time to block him and he punched me. My lip began to bleed.
“Guys, I think you should stop now. You proved you both can fight–now stop,” Octavia warned.
We ignored her warning and kept going. I was determined to beat him, and I didn’t have a real reason why. Part of me wondered if this was my only source of letting my emotions go, maybe I wasn’t that different from that man that I hated. We are both stubborn, witted, determined, quick-tempered, reckless, and aggressive.
“One hit and we’re done,” he said. “Better make yours count, princess,” he whispered. The way he made it seem, that nickname was for our ears only. He never said it loud enough for others to hear and I almost preferred it that way. And when he did, he was only focused on me. As if nobody else was on the earth with us.
My thoughts were distracted and he immediately brought me down. My back hit the ground and I winced in pain, my back arched a bit hoping that would help the pain. Before anyone could help, Bellamy quickly moved to my side. “Are you okay,” he asked almost frantically in a low voice. He sounded genuine.
The gaze I had on him changed, it softened even though I was in pain. I was utterly confused. “What are we doing,” I whispered, his back covering everyone’s view of my lips. At best, they’d hear mumbles.
“Your solution to letting your emotions out, remember?” He lightly laughed, “Fuck, we’re idiots.” Bellamy brushed his thumb on my bottom lip, “Truce?”
My brow almost furrowed, “Truce? Does that mean we suddenly don’t hate each other?”
He laughed and began to help me up, “No, definitely not. You’re still the bane of my being.”
I stood up and got my words out fast enough before everyone crowded me to see if I needed Abby, “And you’re still the only person I hate in this world.”
Bellamy slowly backed away as we kept our eyes on each other, everyone kept asking if I was okay but I didn’t reply. I was too fixated on the man I detested. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said while brushing past them. The one person who got horrendously hurt was Bellamy, yet he didn’t complain or stop them from helping me.
“I’ll help you to, Abby,” I said putting his arm around my shoulder which felt oddly–right. When I looked back to show Octavia I was going to help him, I just saw a group of disbelieving faces. I’d be shocked too, never would I have ever felt pity or thought of helping Bellamy. “I kicked your ass.”
He laughed as if he didn’t have drops of blood on his shirt, “I’d call it a fair fight.”
“I’d call it my win.”
He glanced at my lips then my eyes, we came to a halt. “You want to finish this?”
I could feel his hand brushing along my neck, “I think we’re probably banned from training together for a bit. Though I think that wasn’t a training session–that was fighting.”
Bellamy’s gaze dropped, he stared at me, almost desperate as if he was yearning for something he never even got to get ahold of for years. His touch became more apparent, he stared at my lips as he talked. “I’m not talking about in the training spot.”
My lips parted and suddenly every feeling I had for him disappeared. Only one stayed- the desire I clung to. Instead of going to Abby, Bellamy and I went into his tent.
It was as if both our strengths had been regain, like we were both pushing our limits to be ignoring our pain to mix it with pleasure. Bellamy took his shirt off with such poise and it made me roll my eyes. I started undressing myself also. My eyes lingered on his chest, God, he was so defined. Like a Greek god or a statue made out of generosity.
"My eyes are up here, princess," he said as he pushes me down onto his bed.
I didn't like how much I secretly enjoyed him calling me princess. "You're so full of it, Blake."
He kissed me roughly, as if we didn't have time to spare to be kind to one another. Our hate lingered and I loved it. I winced in pain because of my lip and that caused him to groan into my mouth. He was making it harder and harder for me to not rush this.
I switched spots with Bellamy, God forbid he lets me control one thing. I kissed down his neck being anything but gentle to the parts I knew he was going to have a bruise at tomorrow.
"Fuck," he whispered.
My hands traveled down his chest and before I could do anything he traded spots with me. "Watch yourself princess, if you keep going- I don't think I can stop myself."
"I don't want you to."
Bellamy used his knee to spread apart my legs. He put his hand around my neck and slowly pushed down so I’d be lying flat on my back. I felt my stomach growing butterflies. “I will be anything but gentle with you–” He paused and stared at my lips. “But I think you can take it.”
#bellamy blake x reader#bellamy blake#octavia blake#oneshot#enemies to lovers#bellamy blake imagine#the 100#the 100 fanfiction#john murphy#bob morley#jealousy#abby griffin#clarke griffin#knife kink#Spotify
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Regarding @littlegreenfag
Tldr: Adina, known by the Tumblr urls littlegreenfag and prksoda, has spent the past several years lying about many facets of their life. The list of lies includes, but is not limited to, being half manouche Romani, being Jewish, and being descended from Holocaust survivors.
I never wanted to have to do this. I’ve spent months trying my best to encourage Adina to come clean themself. My methods were not ideal. I should not have used anonymous messages. I used to be friends with them, I should've talked to them openly as their friend. I also should’ve attempted to be less aggressive at times, even though I think it is incredibly reasonable to have felt the way I felt when I was sending some of those messages. I understand and regret both of these things. Unfortunately, since Adina has deactivated @littlegreenfag, I cannot provide links or screenshots to every ask of mine that they responded to, only those I saved at the time. I will do this later, upon request. This post is already going to be enough of a monster without them.
Though the last day has been a complete nightmare, I am satisfied with one thing: Adina came clean about everything, even if not publicly. My worry was always with the though of having to reveal their personal information, as many of the things they’ve lied about would require me to, functionally, dox them. Though it's technically all public, I would much rather that no one who doesn't already have access to this information gain it.
So, why am I writing this post? For those of you who were on Adina’s blog last night, you may have seen this post. I was also able to save a capture of their blog on the Internet Archive. Here is a screenshot that I took around when the post was first published. Apologies for the formatting.
To summarize, Adina begins to by admitting to a small lie, that they were born in Chicago, before admitting that they had been lying about their race. Though it was not present at the time of the blog's deletion, I would like to note that Adina had the phrase "jewish and half-romani" in their blog's bio for a very long time. This phrase was quietly removed after I sent the first anon message telling them that I was aware of their lies, on March 16th 2024. This can be seen on the Wayback Machine, by looking at the capture taken on March 5th, 2024, in comparison to the capture taken on March 24th, 2024.
That is what you may have seen. However, it is not the only major lie Adina has told. After suggesting Adina should turn off anons, I sent them another ask with my blog name visible, telling them that I could tell everyone about the other lies for them, if they wished to log off and be done with it. They messaged me privately, and this is the resulting conversation.
I apologize for the block of images, but I figured it was necessary to include the entire conversation. Here, Adina openly admits to not being Jewish. Adina has spent months receiving social benefits for claiming to be Jewish, and they've even used this claim to support arguments. Truth be told, Adina has one Jewish great-grandfather. How Adina expected me to believe they would know about this without knowing his surname, I will never know. However, I should emphasize that Adina is not Jewish by the standards of any main movement of Judaism. Orthodox and Conservative look for an unbroken line of Jewish women, while Reform asks that you be raised Jewish by a Jewish parent. Adina is descended from a Jewish man who converted to Catholicism and raised his children Catholic.
Regarding the Holocaust claim, I understand hat Adina did not directly address this. I will say that I find it suspicious that they deactivated as soon as I mentioned it, but they technically never confirmed it was a lie. However, with the information that:
The ancestors they mention as being survivors or victims quite literally do not exist and
Their Jewish ancestor was born in the United States well before WWII
I believe it is quite safe to say this was also a lie. My screenshots of their claims come mostly from their Reddit account, which is now deleted.
It is absolutely ghoulish to me to create fake relatives so that you can pretend they were tortured and killed during the Holocaust. All to receive sympathy.
Though there are many, many other lies Adina has peddled, such as being a child of divorce and having a dead biological mother, I don't think any of them matter much in the grand scheme of things when these are the other lies that have been told.
It is also worth noting that this is a pattern of behavior from Adina. As some of you who followed them may know, back in 2019, a blog was created with the intent of calling them out for lies. Frankly, this blog, @prksodalies , is what put me on to Adina's trail in the first place. Though I believe that several of the things Adina was accused of on this blog are downright cruel to accuse someone of without evidence, the fact that there were so many smaller obvious lies made me very uneasy. What specifically made me curious was the post, here, where Adina claims that they are half Lebanese. Obviously, this did not make a ton of sense with the half Roma and half Ashkenazi Jewish Adina we all knew. As it turns out, this was one of the very few shreds of truth from Adina. They're a quarter Lebanese on their father's side, and other than that and a Jewish great-grandfather, are of mostly Polish and German descent.
This being a pattern of behavior, alongside the way Adina behaved in messages with me, tells me that this will likely unfortunately not be the last time this person creates a Tumblr blog with a fabricated life story. I feel immense guilt at the thought that they may continue to swindle and hurt people, and that I will never know or be able to help again.
To everyone who was friends with this person and has been hurt by their actions, I am truly, truly sorry. This has been an absolutely miserable experience for me and I can't imagine it's much different for any of you. If you have questions, I'll be available for a least a few hours. I do not want to share any of their personal information, but I will share what I need to (privately) if some of you need or want more information.
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Homecoming - Andrei Svechnikov
a/n: got this done in one day :) i love this man so much ugh. also not quite sure if the translations or spellings for the words in russian i used are accurate, but i wanted to include that :)
summary: andrei goes back to russia for a few months, but you aren’t able to go with him
word count: ~2.1k
another a/n: tumblr is stupid and wouldn't let me format the text messages properly, so the italicized responses are from the reader, bold and italicized are from svech :) his messages are clearly labeled, but just a little warning that it's formatted strange because of this dumb app
“I’ll miss you,” you whisper against Andrei’s chest, your arms wrapped around his waist. He holds you close, his hands running up and down your back softly.
“I’ll miss you too, malysh,” he murmurs into your hair. Tears fill both of your eyes as you stand in the middle of the airport terminal, not wanting to leave him just yet.
Andrei was going back to Russia for a few months to visit family and reset after a tough season. He needed to get away and that meant going back home.
“I wish you could come with me,” he says, cupping your cheeks with his hands, his thumbs catching all the tears that fall from your eyes.
“It’s really difficult to take off work right now,” you sigh, leaning into his touch. “Plus, you should spend time with your family and friends, don’t worry about me.”
“You are the love of my life, of course I’m going to think about you,” he sheepishly replies, a blush creeping up to his cheeks. You smile up at him, feeling your own face heat up under his hands.
“Maybe some other time, when it’s not short notice.” He nods eagerly and smiles sweetly at you. He checks his watch and sighs, his smile falling and replacing with a frown, realizing that he needs to get going soon.
“I should, uh, I should go,” he says reluctantly, clearing his throat as he gets a little choked up. You nod and inhale sharply, not wanting to cry, but realizing that he won’t be by your side for the next three months or so, was finally settling in.
“I love you, Svech,” you whimper, falling into his chest again, crying uncontrollably this time.
“I’ll be back before you know it, honey,” he says in your ear. “I’ll make sure to find time to call you every day.” You nod against his shoulder and pull away, wiping your tears. Andrei’s eyes soften and he swats your hands away playfully to do the job for you.
“I love you,” he tells you, kissing you sweetly, your tears mixing between your lips. “So so much.”
“You better go before you’re late,” you tell him, pushing his chest back a little. He laughs and nods, stepping away from you with his suitcase. He blows you a kiss and waves to you, turning around to get in the security line.
You slowly walk out of the airport and back to your car, trying your hardest not to break down, but you couldn’t help it. As soon as you fall into the driver’s seat and your door shuts, you sob loudly, resting against your steering wheel, trying to catch your breath through it all.
A few minutes later, you get a text from Andrei with a photo of him at his gate, a frown on his face and tears evident in his eyes.
From: Svechy 🩵
I miss my love already :(
You laugh a little and save the photo, setting it as your lock screen.
I miss you too, my dear. It’ll be a long few months but we can get through it. Text me when you are boarding and when you land <3
From: Svechy 🩵
Promise. Be safe heading home
You love react the message and connect your bluetooth to your car, backing out of your parking space and exiting the garage, thinking about your boyfriend the entire drive back home. Once you park in the drive way, you stare up at the house that you’ve practically moved into. You promised to watch over his house while he was gone, and now, you were beginning to wonder why you agreed to do so.
Maybe it was because you would be surrounded by him while he wasn’t physically here. His bed would smell like his body wash and cologne, his sweatshirts would be full access to you at any point of the day, and photos of him would be all over the place, giving you the chance to look them over and see him when he wasn’t available.
Stepping into the house, you set your bag on the coat rack shelf, kicking your shoes off underneath it. Dragging your feet to the living room, you fall onto the couch and sigh. Just then, you get a text from Andrei, letting you know that he’s boarding now and that it’s going to be a long flight there.
You exchange a few more texts with him before he has to turn his phone off for the beginning of the flight. He paid for in-flight messaging and entertainment, so you would be able to contact him throughout, but you figured he would want to sleep and rest, especially with the time change.
As the hours tick by, the house was far too silent for your liking, so you decide to run some errands and do some shopping for some retail therapy. After three hours and five stores later, you return to his house, ready to unpack all the things you bought, which included some new books, some food and snacks for this week that he didn’t have in his house, and some little trinkets you thought would look nice around his home, to make it feel more like your space, for the time being.
Hours later, you are curled up in Andrei’s bed, reading your book and listening to some music quietly in the background. Your phone dings with an incoming text, and you finish reading the paragraph you were in the middle of before picking your phone up, finding a text from Andrei.
From: Svechy 🩵
Just landed. My friend is picking me up. Really early here
He sends a couple pictures, one of his exhausted looking self, his usual white baseball cap on backwards, his eyes drooped with sleep. Also included was a picture of the beautiful sunset coming up, the sky filled with clouds and a gorgeous orange hue.
Glad to hear that, baby. I hope you have the best time there, I think it’ll be good for you
From: Svechy 🩵
I’ll still be thinking about you every day I’m gone, moy med ❤️
Your heart soars in your chest as he uses one of the pet names he calls you in Russian, putting a smile on your face. You receive another text from him before you can respond.
From: Svechy 🩵
What are you doing?
Reading a new book in your bed
You send him a photo of yourself, which he reacts to with a heart almost instantly.
From: Svechy 🩵
You are so beautiful. I don’t know how I’m going to survive these months without you
You’ll survive ❤️ we can get through this, it’ll be over by the time we know it
You hoped your words would reign true. But sure enough, even though these three months dragged on more than either of you were expecting, he was soon texting you that he was heading to the airport and would be on a plane back home in the next few hours.
Somehow, you managed to stay relatively sane through this time apart. Andrei made time to call you at least once per day, and if he didn’t, he would still be texting you and letting you know how his day was going.
There were some nights where you cried yourself to sleep, wanting to be held by him but knowing he was thousands of miles away. You tried not to tell him of your current state some nights, not wanting to worry him or make him feel bad.
But now, he was finally coming back home. Or at least to his second home that he’s made in the States. To welcome him back, you decided to make a sign to hold up for him to see while you wait for him at baggage claim, and you were so excited to see him again overall.
Because he had messaging on the plane, he makes sure to text you updates every now and then, with the estimated time that he’d be landing, to let you know when to head to the airport and wait for him.
Soon, you find yourself parking in the same garage that you were in months ago, crying as your lover left for his home country. Now, you were eager to actually be here, to see him again, to be in his arms, feel him.
You arrive about an hour before his plane is supposed to land, sitting in a chair with your sign, your headphones on, listening to music to drown the loud airport noises surrounding you. You get a text after sitting there for a while that his plane just landed, and immediately, your heart starts to race.
You were starting to get antsy and jittery, your hands shaking at the thought of seeing your boyfriend after so long; tears were already forming in your eyes, and you knew the second he appeared in your vision, you would be a mess.
Before you know it, Andre is trudging towards the baggage claim area, where you are standing, holding up your sign that reads ‘Happy (second) Homecoming’ in big letters. He has his usual white hat on backwards, hiding any signs of bed head that he didn’t want to deal with.
As soon as he sees you, he quickly rushes over to you and drops his things by his side, swiping you up in his arms and spinning you around, just like they do in movies. Your sign gently falls to the ground next to his stuff as you focus on being back in his arms.
Just as expected, your tears burst out at the moment you feel his arms around you, colliding into his chest. His grip on you is deathly tight, not wanting to let go of you for a second.
“I missed you so much,” he cries into your neck, his own emotions taking over. You could tell his accent had gotten thicker again, using his first language for so long once again and not being used to speaking English.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” you whisper against his shoulder, your tears producing a wet spot on the black fabric.
“Me too. I never want to be away from you for that long,” he replies, pulling away to get a good look at you. His hands cup your cheeks and he stares deep into your eyes for a moment before his own eyes flicker over every single feature of yours.
You do the same, noticing how he hasn’t shaved in a while, and how he looks much more well-rested and refreshed. As much as he missed you, he can’t deny that this trip did him a lot of good, and you were glad that it did.
Andrei brings your face closer and crashes his lips onto yours in a searing kiss, all of his emotions in the past few months pouring into it. Your head spins from the feeling of his lips on yours after all this time, your hands wrapping around his neck to keep him in place.
“I love you,” he mumbles against your lips as the kiss breaks. “Move in with me.”
His words make you freeze, and you pull back to look into his eyes.
“What?”
“I want you to live with me. I don’t want to be away from you like that anymore. I want to wake up with you beside me, fall asleep with you in my arms, make breakfasts and dinners together while music plays through the house. I want you with me all the time.”
His words make you tear up again, so this is what he was thinking when he was away; it was comforting knowing he was dealing with the same sort of issues that comes with short term long distance.
“I would love to, Andrei,” you smile widely, cupping his cheeks and kissing him once again. “I spent so many nights wanting to be in your arms again and I think living with you would solve so many of my problems.”
He laughs at your slightly joking comment and wipes your cheeks to rid the tear streaks.
“Great. Because as much as I loved visiting my home country, my new home is here. With you.” Your heart beats rapidly as he says this, a blush covering his cheeks as well. “I like your sign, by the way.”
He lets you go to pick up the thin poster board, looking over it and laughing at the tiny ‘(second)’ you included between the two large words.
“I know this isn’t your true home, so I thought it was fitting.” He shakes his head at your words and wraps his arm around you again.
“This is my true home now. And even if I ever leave North Carolina, wherever you are, will be my home, moya lyubov’.”
malysh - baby
moy med - my honey
moya lyubov' - my love
#andrei svechnikov#andrei svechnikov imagines#andrei svechnikov x reader#andrei svechnikov imagine#andrei svechnikov fanfic#carolina hurricanes#carolina hurricanes fanfic#hockey fanfic#nhl fanfic#imagines#fanfiction#fanfic
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Hey! Can I request a falin x reader where reader is a lone researcher in the dungeon and stumbles into chimera falin and the two fall in love?
Maybe Like a 5 times the reader has met chimera falin and 1 time the two get to meet after she’s turned back type story?
beauty/beast
…ft! falin x gn! reader
…tags! 5+1 format, reader is like slightly unhinged, fluff with moments of angst, slight suggestiveness
…wc! 2789
…notes! grimm tries not to come off as a monsterkisser for nearly 2.7k words, the fic,,,, hope you enjoy!!!! i love chimera falin so bad…
One
You can’t say you didn’t ask for this.
It’s a death sentence to traverse into a dungeon on your own, especially with your lack of combat skills. If you were sane, you’d have hired a bodyguard to help take down monsters you couldn’t handle. Fortunately, you are not, and decided instead you could very well handle monsters in a pacifistic way.
Any companion you told this to chose to stare at you like you admitted to dark magic.
So, you’ll simply prove the nay-sayers wrong! After all, how hard can it be to tame some monsters?
Very hard, actually. Like… incredibly.
You had to pride yourself in how you managed to sweet-talk some petty thieves for advice on monsters in the floor you’re currently on, even how to avoid orcs! At least that much is out of the way.
As for fighting, well, sometimes a very sharp slap to the head with a book, or even the sharp tip of a pen can subdue anyone, if just to give you enough time to run.
Besides, blood makes for some extra ink if you just happened to come by a dead body!
Going purely on efficiency alone, you’re doing tremendous work! When it comes to your study? Not so much.
The purpose of coming all the way down here is that you have a very specific urge. That being, to tame a beast. Some researchers gained the will to try and do the same to elemental spirits, why not other monsters?
One of the most common rebuttals you receive is that monsters are animals, they can’t be tamed at all, and you shouldn’t even try lest you want your head bitten off. Considering thus far you only got bitten by a walking mushroom, you think you’re doing rather well! (You did take an hour to contemplate to yourself how a walking mushroom seemingly has teeth, though.)
That brings you now later to the fourth floor, trying to shield your notes from the water as you lament losing more ink. Sure, you might write a little bit more than should be necessary, but you surely can’t be out already!
So, delight fills you as you peer past a doorway to see the top half of a woman face down on the floor. Haha, you can likely drain her pretty easily for some ink! Looks fresh enough, and some patches of her are already damp with red!
You skip over, humming as you do so, when all at once the woman jerks and looks up at you. Her golden eyes pierce your own, making you freeze in place. You wonder if something had gotten mixed up and a succubus ended up making its way to an upper floor, when the walls of the small tower the woman is inhabiting collapses.
A chimera screeches at you, as if telling you to leave it alone. If you weren’t so awestruck, you would have tried to shush it, lure it towards you and petted its oddly human head. Alas, you let the chicken-legged thing go, finding a safe haven for itself.
Day 1:
I have found a beast in its purest form.
I must pursue it.
I must tame it.
Two
‘Obsession’ would be putting your experience lightly.
You had never wanted to gaze upon a monster as much as you wished to see the chimera again. Unique is its proportions, the lower body of a dragon and the torso and head of an adult tallwoman.
To anyone else, its face must be more of a lure. With the prettiest face and… great assets to boot, like a fish drawn to an angler fish's light, a blindsided adventurer comes near.
You had tried to navigate where the beast has gone, observing the damages of certain areas to lead you closer to it.
Thoughts course through your mind like speckles of a daydream as you walk and walk and walk, trying to sneak past other enemies and adventurers as you do so. What would its feathers feel like? Is it different from the mop of blonde hair on its head? You didn’t get the chance to observe its eyes – are they human or monster? What of its body heat? What is its diet?
Ah. Diet.
Your own body stops walking in realisation. By all means, comparing their mouth to the rest of their body, it’s ultimately impossible for the chimera to have a stable diet in this dungeon, correct?
Perhaps… you need to make a lure of your own.
Even after days of navigating the dungeon, you still have plenty of rations from the surface remaining in your bag. Hopefully the chimera likes the most noble meal one can fit inside a lunchbox — meats and pasta with the richest sauce. One could say your taste in meals is unique, eliciting a morbid curiosity. If the beast is more in tune with its human side, it will react the same.
You don’t know what tempted you to arrange a table with two chairs on either side. It’s not like the chimera could fit, but it was only suitable for your first formal meeting with it! Oh, how you can’t wait to observe it eating, and so close…!
If you’re lucky, it may even attempt to taste you.
You promptly shake off the thought.
What you focus on now is to draw the chimera near. It seems to favour secluded areas, but has been seemingly chased around. Aw, is it scared of humans? That’s just adorable! Or, maybe, it’s resting before setting off on a search… Now that’d be some juicy stuff! Who’s the chimera’s prey? Another monster, or humans?
Oh, of course you’ll use yourself as bait. You’re not a coward!
You know basic enough spells that you won’t be entirely drained of mana upon use, lighting up a route to catch the chimera’s attention upon spotting it. Down you lead it, making yourself look as bright and delectable as possible, before sitting in your seat, your meal readily prepared for the chimera.
You smile up at her as she pokes at the food you prepared, and she begins to eat.
Day 3:
The beast was very hungry upon encounter. Even when she finished the meal, she insisted on having something more. I complied, and soon I had emptied my entire share of rations. The chimera eats food made for humans easily.
This elicits curiosity – it might be proof enough that the chimera’s existence in this dungeon is unnatural. Even now, it looks too… human. I feel uncomfortable now referring to the beast as such – an ‘it’.
Thus, I will refer to the chimera as ‘she’ from here on. It suits her. She truly is magnificent.
All signs point to her being an attempt at creating a ‘beast-kin’, but instead of using the soul of a monster and body of a human, it’s as if it’s a mesh of both. A disgustingly beautiful transformation. To compare, it is not dissimilar to the breeding of a pug. Deliberately done to appease someone, something. A selfish birth.
Someone must be wanting to do the same as I to the chimera – tame her to their whims.
…I’ll have to look further into this.
Three
You feel less in control of your studies these days.
The more you hang around the dungeon, scavenging for food and following your muse, the more insane you feel. But, for the sake of research, you power through.
The chimera, she has been opening herself up to you. When she gets anxious, her feathers ruffle, and you shush her with pets. She calms down occasionally. Once, you had encountered her, blood on her body and under her fingernails. You cleaned her using the mana-infused water. She had never looked so calm.
She doesn’t feel like a monster you have tamed, but a friend.
This scares you.
Sure, there’s the possibility that the chimera is an unnatural phenomenon, and isn’t even a monster.
But that also means you’re losing your resolve.
The chimera sits with you, as you scrub her red-scaled talons free of dirt and blood. Her upper body leans on you, resting. You can even hear little chirps slipping from her lips.
She’s so cute.
Even as her golden eyes soften, the small slits in them dilating to exhibit relaxation, she smiles at you. You don’t flinch when her hands take your face to look at you. She’s a bird after all – she might be trying to memorise you, how you look, so she knows not to hurt you in the future.
You were nearly about to reminisce on your further embarrassment when the chimera speaks.
Four words. She spoke four words in the common language, leaving you staring at her. You’re speechless. She must know that she’s caught you off guard as she slowly tucks your hair behind your ear and moves away.
The moment is quickly ruined. “Dragon!” A boyish voice calls. “There you are. You’ve been leaving my side so frequently. There’s no time to–”
An elf in a cloak freezes upon noticing you. His heavy eye bags rival your own as he glares down at your sitting position.
You don’t do anything, merely looking up at your friend in confusion. She is back to being silent again, reaching her arms out to the elf, as if about to pick him up. He swats at her, before pointing at you.
“Kill them,” he demands her.
She hesitates. You also find yourself unable to move. So the chimera is under someone’s control after all. This elf, forcing you apart from your friend.
You hardly process your friend lifting you off the floor, her fingers closing in around your throat. Tighter and tighter. Your eyes can barely make out her empty expression as she squeezes the life out of your lungs.
Snap.
You fall onto the floor, and the mad mage leaves with his dragon in tow.
Day ??:
“My name is Falin.”
The chimera told me this last time we encountered one another. She has a name. A beautiful name that belongs just to her. Falin.
…I would say ‘my Falin’, but she is not. She is under the control of that elf. I wouldn’t want her to be my Falin anyway.
She shouldn’t belong to anyone.
I was revived by a kindly Eastern woman, who is accompanying a group of retainers following their lord. They are joined by another party, also recently revived.
Apparently, in my revival, I had uttered her name, “Falin,” and captured the attention of the malnourished lord.
He is looking for her.
…I was informed she is his love.
Pushing personal feelings aside, I asked to come along. I neglected to mention Falin’s current state. I couldn’t do that to him right now. Maybe once he sleeps, or eats… but not now.
Falin, I wish to save you. That is my goal now.
You are not a monster to be tamed.
Four
Today, you met Laios Touden.
He is Falin’s older brother, you learn.
You met a lot of people, actually. You met Falin’s party, an elf who Falin went to school with, as well as Laios Touden.
“You’ve seen Falin?” He asks you, brow creased. He had leaned forward in interest. Lord Toshiro, Kabru, and Asebi were also listening to you with intrigue.
You nod. “Yes, but I fear the situation might be a little more than you have bargained for,” you vaguely inform.
Your words would be interrupted by Laios’ request to talk privately with Toshiro, to which you comply. You do already have a feeling of what's being said, something Kabru seems to pick up on as he glances over at you.
“Falin… isn’t faring well, is she?”
“Not in the traditional sense,” you reply. Kabru grimaces, clearly not appreciating your rather… erratic way of conversing. You add before he could talk back, “she’ll come back for me.”
Kabru furrows his brow. “Excuse me?”
His question remains unanswered until you are swept up in a heated battle. Looks of horror cross everyone’s faces at the bloody acts committed by the chimera.
You merely smile.
“Hello beauty,” you whisper when she turns to you. Falin steps forward, cornering you. You welcome her with open arms – and the world becomes dark again.
Day ??:
Scorned though I may be by Lord Toshiro, I know myself not to be mad, but in love.
Yes, I am in love. I know this now for certain.
I know that he, too, is in love. I do not see his wishes badly. In fact, from a sane man’s mouth, it is perfectly understandable. Dark magic is dangerous. As is love. He’s risking his own reputation for it, even if others don’t appear to see things the way he does.
But when push comes to shove, I am not that sane man. I am joining Laios Touden’s party in the retrieval of Falin.
The aftermath of the battle consisted of a hearty meal. Who knew monsters could taste so nice? Keep this in mind for the next adventure.
I had figured this all came from the result of black magic. Marcille Donato is a much more interesting woman than I thought. I’m sure I could learn a lot from her.
Hence, we march forward. I know you aren’t in your right mind, Falin, but trust that I am.
I will risk it all for you, beauty.
Five
The ice is cold underneath your fingertips. The woman encased inside is relaxed, as if she’s merely asleep. To see her completely separated from the lower half of the chimera body was something uncanny to you, so used to seeing her towering over you, able to squash you like a bug.
You turn to Marcille as she approaches. “You had the right mind, keeping her fresh like this. Deep down, you really did want to follow through with the plan!”
The blonde elf is sheepish. “I did end up causing a right mess in the end. It… It was selfish of me.”
“It was love,” you reply.
“Not the love Falin needs, though,” she finishes.
You both stare up at her in silence. If you were delusional enough, you could swear you could see Falin breathing.
“I love her,” you admit, quieter than you have ever been. “Is that alright with you?”
Marcille turns to you, her eyes wide. For such a gossip, she really hasn’t picked up on it?
“I…” She hesitates. Her hands reach her trousers, and she scrunches up the fabric in her hands. “It’s not my choice what – or who – Falin chooses. I don’t think I have the right to decide anything for her.”
You nod, graciously taking Marcille’s word to heart.
You feel you’ve also changed throughout your journey. Volatile as you may be, you appreciate Falin as she is. An untamed beauty. Not for anyone to claim or put their ideals onto.
She’s simply Falin.
“Come on,” Marcille takes your hand. She has the kind of look on her face where you know she accepts you readily. “Let’s go eat, okay? For Falin.”
You smile back. “For Falin.”
I don’t care about the day anymore.
Falin is being revived today. Soon, I’ll have a chance to meet the real her. The beauty behind the beast.
Ha. I haven’t called her that for a while.
Maybe I’ll follow Toshiro’s way and propose immediately too? No, Marcille may accept me, but that might result in another need for revival.
I can’t wait to get to know you.
the first time
Falin opens the door with a dazed expression, not expecting the crowd waiting around the door. Of course, this resulted in quite the hoo-ha. People running around, celebrating the successful revival of Falin Touden. You wait patiently for you to be welcomed once more.
The woman is sitting calmly at her bed. Some of her features are still feathered, but you’ve always liked how they felt underneath your fingertips.
She glances up at you, examining your form.
You’re taller than she thought.
“Hi,” you say, handing over a random blade of grass you picked.
Falin takes it. Her fingers brush against your own. She starts twirling the natural green between her fingers. She smiles warmly. “Hello,” her soft, tired voice returns. It’s so sweet that you might melt. “My name is Falin. It’s nice to meet you.”
You know from the way she glances up at you that she already remembers you quite well.
Feeling the happiest you’ve ever been, you fall into Falin, pulling her into the tightest of hugs.
“It’s so wonderful to meet you too, beauty.”
Today, she asked me if she could belong to me.
I said yes, but only if she belonged to herself first.
She accepted.
#✮ grimm's fics!#FALLS OVER#this is my longest fic so far i think wow#as falin deserves#delicious in dungeon#delicious in dungeon imagines#delicious in dungeon x reader#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi imagines#dungeon meshi x reader#falin#falin touden#falin x reader#falin imagines#falin touden x reader#falin touden imagines
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helloo, jing yuan visiting dan heng/feng’s kid in the shackling prison? like the poor kid is scared terrified even considering they didnt get the best treatment there, but the general tries comforting them so yeah a platonic hurt/comfort scenerio
(kinda inspired by this amazing fanart: https://www.tumblr.com/gin-uzumaki/729265014524002304/the-general-was-vainly-searching-for-the-shadow )
A/N: Hello!! I'm assuming the kid is the reader? I've written it this way anyways haha. I decided this would be a prequel to this dan heng fic!! I hope that's alright anon :)) JY visiting the kid after finding out they got wrongfully imprisoned in the shackling prison
Genre/Trope: Platonic + Hurt/Comfort
Format: Fic (W.C: 1589)
Warnings: Wrongful Imprisonment // Hints at torture/abuse towards reader
Extra: Kid reader, so shorter then Jing Yuan // Uncle Jing Yuan :D
"Safe With Me" - Platonic Jing Yuan x Child! Reader
Everyday would be the same for you. The same routine, you would wake up to the sounds of Cloud Knights shaking you awake roughly, they’d reluctantly feed you before leaving you chained up. Hours later they’d come back again for lunch and again for dinner. Then you’d soon pass out for sleep. And more then once, would they come back in between to ensure you ‘learnt your lesson’. What they meant by that? You weren’t completely sure.
Every single day this would happen, and you wished with every fibre in your body that something would change. That you could leave. That the Cloud Knights, the same ones from each day, the ones that always came to merely ensure you wouldn’t die, yet with how your body was decorated in wounds and bruises, they didn’t seem to care that much anyways…you hoped that even so, they would let you go. But living for so long, having been forced to drink that rotten potion that stopped your ageing just to punish you with something you don’t even know about. You weren’t sure if the day you could finally see the sun once again would happen.
Footsteps could be heard, walking in your direction, different footsteps, not the ones from the Knights that would usually come. Unrecognisable footsteps, the door to your cell opened and a pair of gold eyes soon met your own eyes.
He slowly walked in, keeping a distance from you, yet even so you moved back instantly. Looking him up and down, although the strange man didn’t wear the usual uniform of the Cloud Knights, you had no reason to trust him, no reason at all.
What if he was here to hurt you?
What if he was here to shove the disgusting food in your mouth instead?
What if-
“Are you okay?”
You looked over to him, your eyes which have previously been shut tightly to braise for whatever he was planning opened slowly as you looked at him, still he kept his distance to not startle you.
“Are you okay?”
He repeats, a small smile on his lips before his eyes looked at the chains around your body, slightly glaring…but not at you. His eyes landed on your form, almost softening instantly. You shake your head at his question and ask one yourself.
“...W-who are you?”
“You can call me Jing Yuan…the…General of the Cloud Knights”
He did not fail to notice you flinching away from him as he spoke about his title, he raised his arms in surrender and slowly walked closer. Despite everything, despite being chained to one small area, you tried your best to move away from him, the chains clashing against each other as they stopped you from going any further.
“...I’m not going to hurt you, I promise…can you trust me?”
“H-how do I know y-you’re not lying”
“You can’t…so I’m asking you to please trust me…the Cloud Knights who did this to you have already been dealt with accordingly”
You looked away from him, slightly shaking. You didn’t want to trust him, you weren’t sure if he was telling the truth. But you knew that if you refused, if he was anything like the people who threw you in here, you’d get hurt more. So despite everything you nodded, and closed your eyes. Getting ready for whatever the white haired man had planned.
What you weren’t prepared for however, was the feeling of your arms, your body, your legs. To no longer feel strained due to the chains, the sounds of a key clicking and the sounds of metal echoing through the chamber as metal crashed into each other gently.
You opened your eyes and they widened a bit, seeing you have been freed from the chains, looking up. Jing Yuan stared back with a kind smile and keys in hand. He reached behind him and pulled something out, almost on instinct, you moved back and raised an arm to protect yourself, but nothing happened.
“It’s okay…I just want to offer you a proper hot meal…well snack maybe is the better term for this”
He speaks, gently pushing over a wooden steamer towards you before calmly moving back. Allowing you to slowly open the lid, letting the smell of xiaolongbao infiltrate your nose, your mouth watered, looking up at Jing Yuan unsure if you were even allowed to eat something like this. With a nod of his head, you quickly dug in.
The xiaolongbao was the right temperature, not hot enough to burn your mouth yet still warm. After you finished, you looked back up to Jing Yuan who stared back, his hands behind his back as he carefully watched you with gentle eyes.
“...May I come closer?”
He asked, tilting his head. You nodded slowly, still backing up to the wall and resting you back on the wall, he walked over slowly, picking up the wooden steamer and putting it away again. Before sitting next to you.
“...The Cloud Knights filled me in on what happened, but I have a feeling they didn’t tell me the full story…if you don’t mind looking into the past, will you tell me your side?”
You looked over to him and with a hesitant nod, you started telling him what happened. How when you saw your father getting banished away, you quickly ran elsewhere, how a Cloud Knight must’ve spotted you and chased you down. The next thing you knew was being forced in the chamber the two of you sat in currently and how you were chained up.
You even told him the mistreatment that occurred and the potion you were made to drink to stop yourself from ageing. You weren’t sure why you were made to drink the potion, perhaps it was because you would feel more pain with everything that happened. Whatever the case, you were in tears as you finished.
Jing Yuan instantly took note of this and was quick to gently clean away any tears. He wanted to hug you and comfort you, but he knew that with everything that you went through, you may not trust him.
He understands.
He simply tried to comfort you in mere words, and eventually it worked. As you calmed down. Gripping onto the dirty cloth you were wearing you looked back at the man who had been the one who gave you the change you were looking for.
“...Mr General?”
“Yes?”
“...What’s going to happen now?”
You ask, looking at him. He hummed in response and stood up, offering a hand for you to take, which you did. Slowly standing up and using his arm as support as your legs still felt wobbly.
“First, I’m taking you to get cleaned up and a proper meal. I already gave you some xiaolongbao to eat, but I think you’d enjoy something more filling”
He starts, walking out of the chamber with you and out of the prison, the sun hitting your face instantly as you stepped outside the prison. You looked up, eyes squinting as the brightsun burned your eyes and yet, it was beautiful. Jing Yuan continued.
“Then, we’ll take a trip to the alchemy commission so they can figure out how to reverse the effects of the ageing potion you took. You’ll stay with me for a bit…until you’re ready to meet your dad…your dads reincarnation I should say”
He mumbles the last part, inaudible to you. Your eyes looked towards him as you thought about his words. Clinging onto his arm a bit tighter.
“...You promise you’re not like the mean guys who took me?”
“I promise, and those mean guys will get rightfully punished for their crimes…you’re safe with me don’t worry”
He nods, smiling down at you. And he did in fact keep his promise. He stayed true to his word, you got a set of new clothes and was able to eat a full meal. All paid for by the general (discounted due to his title) and the alchemy commission, in request to Jing Yuan, managed to make an antidote to have you age normally again. To continue growing up like any other kid.
.
.
.
.
.
One night when he was off from work, he came to see you. He couldn’t adopt you, he knew you’d need someone who’d be home more often than he could. But even so, even if he was only temporarily your guardian, he’s so happy to see you change for the better, to see a smile on your face more often than a frown or a scared one.
“How are you, little one?”
He called softly, standing next to you as you drew him, yourself and Yanqing. His smile softened even more as he saw this.
“I’m good!”
“That’s good”
“...Uncle Jing Yuan?”
“Yes?”
“...I think I’m ready to meet my dad now”
You spoke, looking up from the paper to him, Jing Yuan looked back and nodded, patting your head.
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Yes”
“Then get yourself packed up, and you can meet him tomorrow”
With a nod from both yourself and him, he helped you get ready to meet your father. You truly were safe with him for the time you spent with him, and now he’s entrusting that you’d be safe with your father.
With Dan Heng.
With the express.
And he hoped that as the years go on, you’ll continue to smile as you do. And if the time comes when Dan Heng needs a babysitter? You’ll always be welcome with him. You’ll always be safe with him.
Jing Yuan :D Love him sm, he'd honestly be such a good dad, have you seen how he is with Yanqing?? Father son duo istg. I decided to make the reader see Jing Yuan as their uncle cuz I think it was cute :>>
Feel like I missed some warnings, so if you catch anything I missed please tell me!! (I'm always worried if I miss warnings RAEIOFN)
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr x you#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr jing yuan#Jing Yuan#Jing Yuan x You#Jing Yuan x Reader#HSR Jing Yuan x You#HSR Jing Yuan x Reader#platonic jing yuan x reader#Platonic Jing Yuan x you#hsr platonic#platonic hsr#🎭 masked fools
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[slides on in] well hello there fellow lucifer fanatic
could i request some hcs with luci and an indecisive reader? gn and established relationship!! ex: he asks what they want for dinner and they panic trying to pick something because they feel like they need to decide right then and there or they’ll annoy him.
please and thank you! 🫶
anon, you're just like me fr. i also can never make up my mind and love lucifer. i'd be happy to write this for you .ᐟ
thank you for my first request, by the way ~ .ᐟ now to get to the good part.
LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X GN! INDECISIVE READER
Look at this man. This is the man who has piles upon piles of rubber ducks in his workshop. You cannot tell me Lucifer isn't also indecisive, at least when it comes to less serious things.
Seriously. You expect me to believe he hasn't looked at his own work and went 'nope, looks bad. starting over.' .ᐣ
With that being said, I think he would find it an incredibly endearing trait in you. The concentrated face you make when you're stuck between two options .ᐣ Absolutely adorable.
That is, until the unsure and conflicted look on your face morphs into one telling of your anxiety and worry.
Now, I hope you'll excuse the bird pun, but he is absolutely a mother hen type.
The second he sees even a hint of panic on your face .ᐣ He's immediately shifting all of his focus on you -- if it hadn't been already.
He's rushing over to you without you having to so much as ask -- his beloved partner, distressed .ᐣ No matter the reason, that won't do. He won't rest until he sees you smiling again.
Wrapping his arms around you in a hug, likely even his wings, too. He's suffered so many panic attacks before, he knows just how miserable they are.
He wishes you had come into his life earlier so you could of comforted him through the worst of his.
Even if your panic hasn't dissolved into a full blown attack, he is there. His touch is grounding, it helps you calm down and come back to reality.
When your heart's stopped racing and you look as if you're able to talk about it, he'll ask you just what has you so distressed.
Don't even bother trying to lie to him. He can tell when someone's hiding their feelings.
He won't force you to tell him, though. He just wants to know what went wrong so he can help prevent it from happening again.
If you decide to share your worries with him, he wouldn't belittle you in the slightest. Is it time you need .ᐣ You two have all the time in the world.
Would you rather he choose .ᐣ Because he wouldn't mind.
Or if it's something more serious, he offers to sit down with you and discuss the pros and cons of each -- maybe you two can come up with a decision together .ᐣ
His face sort of falls if you decide to tell him part of the reasoning behind your anxiety is a fear that you'll end up annoying him. Did he do something to make you think he'd judge you .ᐣ
Or maybe he got short with you .ᐣ He's so apologetic. He wants you to feel like you can share anything and everything with him.
He won't let himself start feeling overwhelmed with guilt, though. This moment is about you and the reassurance you need, not his guilt issues.
Explain to him that you know he'd never do such a thing and that it's just an irrational thought coming from worry and he's taking your face into his hands, telling you that he would never, ever think less of you, much less get upset over something as silly as struggling to make a choice.
Like he said earlier, let him help you choose. You two are stronger together and this is no exception.
He's always soft to you, but count on him being even more so than usual for the rest of the night. You two can watch your favorite show or movie -- or whatever you'd like to do to destress. ♡
first request finished ~ .ᐟ how'd I do .ᐣ i'd love to hear your thoughts. feedback fuels my writing muse more than anything else .ᐟ
i'm really hoping this formats correctly, i'm used to using the tumblr app && currently stuck on laptop </3
#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#admin kitty#lucifer morningstar
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