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excessive-vampires · 5 months

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Alphabet Thralls Part 2: The Questions

Masterlist with content warnings

Taglist: @d-cs @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @softvampirewhump

When the lights were turned on the women in lab coats returned. They took the prisoners one by one, in alphabetical order, to a room set up much like a morgue, except slightly less cold. They were meticulously examined, interrogated about their medical history, and given a pair of socks, a black crayon, and a packet of papers before being led back to the holding cell. Q tore his packet to shreds once the sedative he’d been dosed with wore off and sulked in a corner, S dutifully began writing their answers to the questions, and the others started reading the packet and talking in hushed tones out of curiosity. R’s glasses had been returned for the day, thankfully, so he could wonder at the strange paperwork along with U and T.

“I don’t know what I expected,” R flipped back and forth through the first couple of pages. “But it wasn’t some weird personality quiz.”

On the top of the first page, large letters said, “This is for your benefit.” Below that was a list of questions about likes and dislikes, special skills, hobbies, and experience with household chores. As well some other questions that seemed random, and some the group could guess the reason for but didn’t want to. Like, for example, one of the questions read, “Describe your tolerance to pain.”

“It’s probably so they can find the ‘owner’ that will be able to handle us the easiest,” said U. She sighed and started filling out the form. R raised an eyebrow at her. “Just in case I don’t find a way out of this for a while I’d rather not be stuck with a major sadist or a narcissist if I have the choice.”

T set down her forms and put her head in her hands, shaking.

R looked back down at the questions. “Do you think they’re really…”

“They’re not human,” Q said from his corner. “It’s not just how fast and strong they are. Back in the showers their skin was freezing, colder than the air in the room. Even though their hands had just been in the warm water it was like getting punched by a block of ice.”

Everyone was silent for a moment. T took a deep breath, uncovered her face, and started filling out the forms. R did the same.

“What is wrong with all of you?” Q said with disgust.

“There’s no way out right now. Might as well play along,” U responded with a shrug.

“Even if there’s no hope, we should at least go out fighting instead of just giving in. Don’t you have any pride? Any dignity?”

“I do, I just would rather be humiliated than be tortured into compliance.”

S had finished answering the questions and laid back down on their bed. They rolled onto their stomach, picked up the black crayon, and began doodling on the concrete floor. U walked over and sat down next to them. S looked up, surprised, but went back to drawing stars and strange spaceships in the empty space around their mattress without reacting further.

“Why are you drawing on the floor?” U asked.

“I don’t like empty time.”

“No, I mean, why not on the back of the forms? It’s blank.”

“They might not like that. Might get upset”

“Why would they be less upset at you drawing on the floor?”

For the first time, U saw a flash of genuine unguarded fear in S’s eyes. They dropped the crayon, then hurriedly picked it up and placed it on top of the forms by the side of their mattress. They then sprung to their feet so fast that U almost fell back as she scrambled out of S’s way. S pushed their mattress forward until it covered their drawings. Then S got back down on the mattress and tried to get back into the relaxed position they’d been in previously, until only their harsh breathing betrayed their distress.

U was about to ask a question, even she wasn’t sure exactly what, when the door started to open. S forced their breath to slow. One of the lab coat wearing women from before led in a man in a suit. Q got to his feet and rushed the pair. The woman calmly punched him in the gut hard enough to send him to the floor, then pressed her foot into his ankle until he screamed.

“Another troublemaker,” she said casually to the man. She looked around at the shreds of paper that had once been Q’s forms and sighed. “I recommend scheduling four hours.”

“Yes, go ahead and write that down,” the man replied.

She then led the man around to the other prisoners and collected their forms and R’s glasses before leaving. Soon after that, another one of the women walked in and placed five trays of food and five plastic bottles of juice at the front of the room. She turned to the prisoners. “Eat,” she commanded simply before leaving. Once the door was closed S got up and walked casually to the front of the room. They grabbed two meals and carried one over to Q, who tried to spit in their face. They ignored this and took their own meal back to their mattress.

Suddenly it was like a spell was broken and all of the prisoners felt just how hungry and weak they were. The others grabbed their food and settled back down near where they had chosen to sleep. R paused near where Q was trying to find the way to sit that put the least weight on his ankle.

“You should eat it, or you’ll just get weaker and get more hurt when you try to fight.”

Q’s face was twisted into a snarl. “You have no idea what they could have put in this.”

“You’ve gotten your ass kicked by these guys twice. If they want to drug you, they don’t need to be sneaky about it, man.” R walked away and Q reluctantly grabbed the bottle of juice to soothe his throat which stung from his repeated angry screaming into the gag yesterday.

#AT

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andswarwrites · 1 year

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Day 19

When I was little I used to watch The Disney Hour on Sundays. Whenever the movie wasn't animated, I would experience some disappointment, except if it was The Swiss Family Robinson. That one time they played Old Yeller I rebelled and I think I shut the TV off just before Old Yeller gets shot. Animation, to me, unlocked a whole world of color, animation and artwork that no other mode of storytelling could equal. And now my daughter shares my love for the craft, not only as a spectator, but already at her young age, a contributor.

As soon as N- was old enough to hold a pencil, I decided that I was going to give her a giant supply of colorful construction paper, paint, crayons, markers (I got her metallic ones. She really loved those.) And shortly after she learned her alphabet and her numbers, I taught her color theory. Well I can't take all the credit, there was a song on Youtube by Scratch Garden that taught her, of the colors of the rainbow, which three were primary and which three secondary, which ones were warm and which ones were cool. It's called The Color Song.

When I was young I loved to draw. I especially liked to draw people. Facial expressions, poses; I once made a "photo album" of my made up family with twelve kids. And I drew all twelve. I also drew a whole story involving a quest to find out whether some gems were genuine. It start off with two people shouting "They could be real!". I've continued to draw off and on over the course of my life, and when N- was old enough I showed her a few basic things, and she just took off.

From a very young age she included amazing detail in her artwork. I enjoyed coloring her art for her, because adding color drew the eye to those tiny little details she had created. N- loves animals, and she invents her very own creatures. At a young age she started to "vent" with her artwork, and at first she didn't want me to see those pictures. I explained that showing them to me helps me to understand what she is feeling, and I won't be shocked or appalled. But if she doesn't want me to see a page in her sketchbook, I respect that.

When she got her first tablet, S- and I installed an app to teach N- how to animate. We thought it might be fun for her. She didn't use it very often, so we thought maybe it wasn't her thing. When N- was old enough to go on the computer, she found a website called Flipanim, and with it she can layer artwork, doodle, and animate. She has been using that site for over five years now. She goes through phases where she only wants to draw, and then other phases where she creates complex music videos.

She follows artists on Youtube such as Neytirix and RANDOMstuff Animation who inspire her. She also likes learning about other art forms from Youtubers like Moriah Elizabeth and North of the Border. We don't have an official Art class per se, because N- spends so much free time painting, drawing, animating and more. And I do plan to teach her a course in art history as part of our curriculum next year. The important thing is that N- draws just about every single day. Because practicing her craft is essential.

I've always admired animation. I know 3D animation has been popularized, but I think artsy films like Song of The Sea have their place as well. N- agrees with me. We watched it together, and she kept commenting on the artwork and the music and how the two went hand in hand with the storytelling. When I say "artsy films", I mean stylized and with artistic merit. I'm not knocking it in any way. It's one of my favorite animated movies.

I grew up thinking Disney was the end-all and be-all of animation. I do love so many Disney movies. Not as many as I did as a kid. Growing up my tastes have changed. When I was in my teens, some friends of mine introduced me to different styles of animation. We watched Millennium Actress, and since I loved the book Watership Down, we watched the 1978 animated movie. I had to watch Millennium Actress twice, because the first time I was hoping for a happy ending, and that's not the point of the movie. Watership Down was well done, but the book is just so much better.

S-'s favorite animated TV series was Tiny Toons, so as an anniversary gift I got him the DVDs. We actually bought a lot of animated series, from Samurai Jack to Freakazoid. S- appreciates animation too. In fact, we're a family of animation geeks. That's why, when we went to see the Super Mario Movie, S- and I were enjoying it just as much as if not more than N-. We introduced her to Powerpuff Girls as a kid, we took her to see Inside Out when it came out in theaters. We're kids at heart, and we hope she will always remain one too.

I think N- has so much potential. She could earn a living as an artist, either traditional, digital, animator, musician: she has options. And if she wants to keep those gifts of hers for herself and decides to go in a completely opposite direction, she will have my full support. As long as she earns enough to pay her bills, rent and groceries, with enough to put aside for rainy days and treating herself, I'll be happy. I don't want my child to get rich and famous. I want her to use her talents in a way that brings her contentment. I want to watch what she does in life, and give her as much support as I can.

#animation #artwork #parenting

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reilliane · 3 years

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Blooming ✤ 4NEMO

B l o o m i n g

A/N: The amount of time I took to draw that (^) banner just to have it for 4nemo ficlets— a-ah, I love how it turned out anyway soOOO- anyway! This is sort of 4nemo’s... origin story? At least my take in how the group was built.

There will be three parts to this, Blooming, Falling, and Loving! (And a bonus angst because it won’t be me without angst, Withering)

✤ she/her

Words: 4.1k

≿————-　❈　————-≾

A dream is a wish your heart makes—isn’t that a saying from a fairytale?

You aren’t too fond of it, actually. There are dreams that do remain as mere wishes, but you are not the type to let it remain as a blooming desire in your head. Because-

“Why fantasize when you can grant it yourself?”

“Eh?”

For the first time in your life, you are a witness to your friend’s bewilderment. A rare sight to come across, so you milk it with a smug yet determined grin.

It isn’t everyday one gets to see the usually charismatic Venti to be the one stunned into silence, his teal and aquamarine pools blinking in what seems to be an attempt to process what he’s heard.

He appears just as lost and disordered as his papers that lay on the floor.

At the center of it all stands you, eyeing the sheets inked with black. Sheets that contain discarded and incomplete musical notes arranged by a passionate yet reluctant mind.

“I said what I said,” you pick up one of the musical sheets, eying the title that read ‘Zephyr’. “You have what it takes, Ven. Are you really satisfied with just being in the music club?”

Said friend pouts, leaning forward to snatch the paper away from your hands with a rosy flush to his cheeks.

“Of course I am, what do you take me for?”

“A liar.”

He dramatically falls to his paper-blessed floor at this retort, whining about how you’ve wounded his poor little heart. Still, he voices nothing regarding your description of him—which can only mean one thing.

You sigh. This guy, I swear.

“I’ve known you ever since we were in kindergarten and I stole all your crayons except for the brown one—”

“So you did steal them! You thief, I didn’t get my gold star sticker because all I had was a measly stickman doodle of our teacher! She said she looked like a broomstick!”

“—Because you lied about not stealing my [c] crayon!” you exclaim, huffing when he guiltily chuckles. “So to put it short, I’ve known you for a long time. It is impossible not to know whether you’re really happy with something or not.”

You sit back down on the floor, careful not to slip on any of the musical sheets where your dear friend poured his heart and soul into writing.

“That face of yours may fool others but not me.”

Venti gazes at you with a look of resignation, but there is a trace of gratitude if one peers close enough. His slacking grip on the papers he has collected lets loose and he falls back onto the side of his bed.

Enveloped with quietude, the room makes no noise other than the faint sound of the air conditioner and the faint pattering of the rain against his window. You contribute to the silence, not saying anything as you lose yourself in the recollections of your mind.

The sudden poiesis of his love for creating music comes barreling when you were both fourteen—and unsurprisingly, you only became aware of it when you caught his incomplete sheets stuffed in his violin bag. Getting the answer with the said sheet as evidence came easier afterward, and so you accompanied him in his passionate rambling about a dream that remains as a faraway wish.

Students alike have praised his talent and he’s all the more hyped and thankful, but underneath that countenance laid an unsatisfied person who sought for more.

Of course, despite his ongoing mask in front of others, there is a tacit understanding between the two of you.

You’re proud to say that you hold some kind of power over others because of this, but heavens, you just wish that Venti would allow you to help sometimes.

“Do you really think I can make it?” his whisper—so small and so wishful—has you glancing at him, his stare still pointed to his ceiling.

The pitter patter of raindrops become harsher as if mirroring itself to the raging storm in your friend’s head. The gentle bob of his adam’s apple is a dead giveaway.

With an incentive to drill in him the fact that ‘yes, I’ve been saying it so many times already!’ , you jump onto the bed chest down, humming when he tilts his head to meet your eyes.

Receiving the eye contact, you say, “Of course you can. I’ll help you, Ven. Just let me.”

Venti swallows at this and heaves a sigh, tearing his eyes away.

One can practically feel his reluctance oozing out from his aura, but you reach your hand down to squeeze his own. It may not help much but the message of ‘I am with you’ does wonders in giving your childhood friend the encouragement he needs.

You know you have won when he looks back at you with a surprisingly sheepish yet eager smile on his face.

“So where do we start, [Nickname]?”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

“This wasn’t part of the plan!” Venti cries as he is almost sent tumbling into other sleep-deprived students thanks to his wrist being pulled.

To his chagrin, he does tumble when you stop all of a sudden, his front slamming into your back. “You just said how you’re not against forming a team. So, we’re going to get you a team! Don’t worry, I know the perfect candidates!”

You’re speaking as if you’ve stalked them. He thinks.

“I’ve stalked a couple of people, see, so I already had my eye on them from the start.”

Venti splutters.

“You what!?”

He gets a few odd stares but zero complaints. Either the other students are too sleepy to care that he screamed in the middle of the school courtyard or they just can’t be bothered by the daily ruckus.

You laugh in jest, shaking your head as you pull the songwriter onto one of the stone benches, breathing in the crisp air of the early morning. Way too early for your childhood friend to be screaming in protest, but people could care less.

“Kidding. I have things to do other than stare at men who are drop dead gorgeous.”

Venti pouts, crossing his arms. “Why look for drop dead gorgeous men when you already have me?”

You look at him, flabbergasted. Look at this smug lil’-

“I mean drop dead gorgeous men who will be willing to kiss good old me.”

He gapes openly at this, seemingly forgetting the reason why the two of you are out here in the first place as he switches subjects. “Is that it!? You could’ve just asked, silly!”

“Look over there—that guy with the cool cyan headset, I heard he—VeNTI DON’T KISS ME, WAIT- I WAS JOKING-”

“Were you really though- [Name] get back here!”

The person you have just referred to stops abruptly when you halt in front of him, beady golden eyes narrowing at the mere sight of an unfamiliar girl. Suddenly, everything feels chilly.

Or maybe it’s because you lack a jacket.

“What.”

You still. Oh wow.

You’ve always thought that his voice will be smooth, but this is heaven- maybe not as lovely as Professor Zhongli’s, but that grit though—ahhh, get in the game, [Name]! Simping later!

“Aren’t you a part of the dance club?” his stare furrows to a mild, simmering glare as if asking how you came to that fact when you’re both strangers, yet you are unperturbed.

“I’d like to ask if you’re interested in teaming with a few people for a video—”

“No.”

He interjects before you can finish, his hands already adjusting his headset back onto his ears and blasting his music so loud to the point that it’s a direct message that says ‘back off’. Oh you would’ve backed off alright.

If not for your strong belief that he will fit right in the group, that is.

Discreetly, you slip a folded paper into the pocket of his bag, tapping his shoulder and feigning concern afterwards. “Your backpack’s open, thought I should tell you at least.”

He doesn’t stop to fix the zipper of his bag, only slinging it to his front with a grunt as he walks away, lost in his music. Venti passes him with a glance, shuddering before grasping your arms.

“Xiao is your definition of drop dead gorgeous?” you do not understand his panic as he resumes shaking you back and forth, “I won’t question your taste in men, but what will he contribute? Won’t he onlycriticizeme-”

“Yah- first of all, oh, so that’s his name. Second, I could be lesbian for all you know—”

“Nooooo! The universe will rip us apart-”

“But I’m not. Also, he’s hot, you’re not,” your dramatic friend drops to his knees and you snort, “I won’t give you up for the world, though. You’re stuck with me, so stop sulking, Ven! Third, you will work in a group that will excel not only in singing, but dancing! And perhaps rapping? Isn’t that the craze nowadays—anyway, I’ve seen him dance and oh my go-”

Venti jumps back to his feet, fiery eyes twitching. “I’ll dance tango with you!”

You flinch, eyeing him as if he’s grown another head. What the heck is this guy talking about? Tango? That will be an honor, but you have already promised your dancing skills to a senior student who will seek vengeance if you ever decide to turn her down.

Opting not to mention that to the hyperbolic violinist, you shake your head.

“Tut-tut, this is a learning lesson. Naturally, all of you in the group will be benefiting from each other since one will specialize on a certain aspect. Teamwork makes the dream work!”

Venti drawls a whine at your vigor but doesn’t lose himself to the tempting prompt to back down. He considers asking the contents of the paper you slipped into his classmate’s bag, but instead humors your other ‘candidates’.

He’s gone this far, no use in backing down.

Besides... the feeling of having someone at his beck and call is nice, he knows he can rely on you.

“Ehe, okay, then. How about you let me see the rest of your ‘chosen’ ones?”

“That’s the spirit!”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

You have a good feeling about this one. It is like hitting two birds with a single stone! For the next two candidates, they’re both in a couple of your classes.

Another invitation has been extended to one of them, the blond transferee who accepted the paper without trouble during History period.

You don’t have similar major courses, but everything else is shared with them—unfortunately, Venti has no joint classes with you. To his dismay.

Oh well, good thing you both are roommates!

Oh goodness, and you are roommates-

”The only issue with this guy is if he’s interested in actually joining the group, not working behind the scenes.” you mutter, waiting out at the corridor as your classmates file out after the ringing of the bell that indicates the arrival of a long-awaited lunch.

Ah, the nerves are getting to you.

And it’s definitely because you are going to invite one of the.. oh you can’t explain it, perhaps the anxiousness stems from the fact that you are going face-to-face with a perfect man. No, you definitely didn’t have your eyes on him from the start because you planned to ask him with or without Venti’s consent-

No, really. No.

“Care to enlighten me on what has captured your mind for you to space out in the middle of the hallway?” benevolent eyes of carmine meet [c]s and you jump, spooked.

In your panic, you answered with an idiotic, “You.”

His eyebrows rise, his lips tugging up in a manner so faint yet you are able to see his bemused smile.

“Oh?”

“Well to be specific, you write really well. I’m wondering if you’re interested in joining a group,” your elaboration comes with you pulling out the same sheet of paper prepared beforehand.

Much like the transfer student, the silverette takes it with a delighted bob of his head. Nothing much is written on the paper except for a logo of what he assumes are wings, a text that read ‘4nemo’, and a subtext at the bottom that read ‘music room’.

“What’s this for?”

“[Name], [Name]! There you are! Come on, hurry- they’re going to run out of apple pies!”

The simultaneous chorus befuddles both you and your classmate, and you chuckle -albeit awkwardly- as Venti latches onto your side in desperation. Waving a hand in apology and shame, you are dragged away.

“It’s after class, Kazuha, I hope to see you there!”

“Ah..”

Uncertainty is on his expression as if he’s about to say something more, but your figure is already disappearing around the corner before he can add anything else.

It takes you a complete minute to realize that Venti is not dragging you towards the cafeteria at all, instead, towards the said room you’ve penned down on the bunch of papers you have given out. Upon reaching a rather secluded hall, the violinist heaves a sigh of relief before turning to face you.

“So.. Xiao saw the paper,” he starts with a light tone.

In spite of his attempt to sound unbothered, however, the existence of nervousness is as clear as day to you.

“And he may or may not have thrown it away..”

asdfghjkl-

Disappointed but expectant of it being the outcome given the dancer’s rather frigid persona, you assure your friend that it will be fine. You can always search for someone else... though you think that no one else will fit the slot as perfectly as Xiao does.

Venti’s smile is blue as he listens to you.

What are the odds that the other two you gave those papers to will even come later? He chews over in his mind and doesn’t vocalize it out loud, not wanting to dampen your mood with his once-in-a-lifetime pessimism.

“We can’t stop now, [Nickname]!” he beams, his hand already sliding the door to the music room open. The small crack provided by the door allows you to see a couple of instruments already set up along with his idle laptop.

“You.. said you’ll help me, right?” Venti chuckles.

He may be dubious about the arrival of the two remaining people after class, but that doesn’t mean that he’s willing to back out entirely. Appreciating and making the most of the help someone who believes in him is giving is his top priority.

“Of course! Ooooh, will you finally let me listen to that Zephyr track?”

Venti’s smile turns fond as he turns his head away and walks inside the room. You’ve always liked listening to my songs regardless of whether or not they’re finished...

”Well, that’s what you’re here for! Ehe.”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

It isn’t very long until you find yourself walking back to the room you agreed to meet in after the bell that calls for the end of today’s classes.

Languidly slow in your pace to check if there are any signs of a certain blond and silverette making their way towards the music room, the dismay begins to seep in when you notice that there are zero sightings.

At least.. zero until you went inside said room only to find Venti already conversing with the blond transfer student.

“Aether, you came.. !”

The mentioned person swivels to find your surprised figure standing by the threshold of the room, blinking as if you can’t believe that someone did come.

Venti himself looks stoked.

Aether chuckles sheepishly. “Well, I’m not in any clubs yet.. I was wondering if this was an opportunity for me to enter one.”

His reason makes your eyes meet your childhood friend’s, unsure on how to reveal that... well, it isn’t exactly a club.

I told you you should’ve put more information! Venti’s eyes scream and you blink in defense. Well, too much info would’ve bored them out!

Clearing your throat, you start to explain to Aether that this isn’t quite the chance he is looking for before going off to a tangent on the real reason why you’ve asked him to meet with you.

The knock on the door, however, interrupts your small little tangent, leaving Venti to bear witness the slow, unreadable morphing of the blond’s visage.

The very other person you are looking for enters the room with his tiny smile still present as ever, though anyone can see the small ounce of confusion in his optics. It is clear that he came here not out of interest, but for answers.

“This is quite the mix.” Kazuha denotes, nodding towards Aether and Venti whilst introducing himself to the latter.

He’s in a few of Aether’s classes, too, so there is no need for him to extend his introduction when they already know each other. With the exception of the other person, of course.

After he takes a seat on one of the chairs, he becomes silent, being the usual listener.

This urges Aether to finally ask you to continue your earlier sentences, ones that still is incomprehensible to ears until he has heard it over and over again.

“What about forming a musical group again?”

Kazuha is immediately out of his usual behavior, bewildered. “Musical group?” he echoes, as stunned as his classmate. “Like.. idols?”

No lights are on in the room but the setting sun filtering through the curtained windows and from the door slightly ajar is sufficient enough in alighting the wonder in both of their faces. Such a confrontation and reveal sizzles your nerves, but you push through.

Laying a hand on the unusually silent Venti, you form one of your most welcoming smile. Time to spill, then.

”I personally went to you because I know that you all will fit well together, enhancing each other’s skill to make the best of you as a group. A-and it’s not like this will take up all of your time! Only for one song, please?”

Second thoughts are visible on their faces, so you’re listing off their skills in an endeavor for them to realize how well they all mix.

“Kazuha, I’ve seen the haikus you’ve written in Literature class. You’re a perfect lyricist, no one can tell me otherwise.”

A flush of faint rogue decorates the silverette’s cheeks, the tint gradually becoming similar to the streak of ruby in his tresses. His smile is grateful, albeit reluctant, still.

“And Aether!” said blond jumps at your stare, “I’ve heard from Lumine that you like to sing. Plus, that face of yours is to die for!”

“Uh- I- ah..” he swallows with a nervous smile, like he isn’t expecting you to know of his hobby. He swears he catches your friend perk up at the mention of singing.

You inhale deeply, collecting your thoughts.

“So.. please help me make someone’s wish come true!”

The moment you bow is the moment Venti shoots up from his seat, both touched and flustered that you are going miles just to give him a taste of the dream he knows will never be reality.

Having the others’ eyes on his profile doesn’t even faze him anymore as he tries to get you to stand upright once more.

You are only budging out of the position when Aether stands, the look on his face loud enough for you to identify his unsaid sentences. “Listen, I’m thankful that you think so highly of me, but I don’t think I’m cut out for this..”

He collects his things with a despondent smile, politely pushing the chair back to its rightful place as Kazuha follows suit.

You don’t see Venti’s expression but by his flaccid hold on your shoulders, you can basically feel his melancholia exuding off.

Thus, in a desperate attempt to convince the two, you hurry to the open laptop, exclaiming, “Wait—at least hear what he created!”

“[Name]-”

Venti stammers as he races along, trying to get you to stop because ‘there’s no use forcing someone if they’ve already decided’, but you get to it first.

Switching tabs to the lone playlist Venti has exclusively made for his tracks, you press the play button, thankful that the device is already connected to the speaker at the side.

The interlude of the song plays immediately, synths harmonizing and creating a build-up before launching straight into the main melody. Its low bass somehow fits especially well with the faint grit of an electric guitar, hidden under the layers of synth that set the mood in tandem with the kicks and snares.

It is far- so far from what Venti usually creates that it has you looking at him in complete awe.

“To hell with ballads, Ven, this is amazing!”

The feeling brought by the lyric-less song is still wondrous—like an upbeat start to an adventure. Despite the fullness it seems to convey as your friend’s music resonates in the room, you find it somewhat.. lacking.

It is as if Venti has purposely removed a key element to present the idea that this song will never be completed at all.

Oh, how you ache for him to realize that he is worth it—that the rest too, are, worth it.

But you know—you know that he is right.

There is no use in forcing someone when they have already finalized on a decision, so even as the song carries through the verses and the choruses, you don’t look back. Knowing that no one will greet you when you turn, both your eyes are fixated on the screen of the laptop.

A faint click implies the shutting of the door and you swear you see Venti’s hands shake, like he failed himself.

His momentary display of weakness has you rubbing his back, a simple sign that you’re still there and he sighs. The faint mumble of gratitude is almost unheard if not for the dying reverbs of the song’s last notes.

A moment of silence.

At least, until you break it.

“That sounds wonderful, Venti.. I’m surprised I didn’t hear your violin.” he smiles at you, aquamarine pools gleaming before he gently closes his laptop, biting back the rueful sigh.

“I wanted something new for a change.”

His sluggish movements prompt you to clean up as well, your movement as slow as his, various thoughts weighing heavily in both of your minds.

The extra piece of paper -a spare- is seen in your bag just as you are about to tuck away the small speaker. Tealish lines that curve like the swirls of drawn wind mimic a pair of wings that stare back at you. It is the very logo you spent your free time in creating.

Flight.. wings, freedom.

The freedom Venti himself is afraid of grasping.

You sigh.

“The title of the song... what is it?”

“Soaring.” comes Venti’s monotonous response as he’s in the middle of zipping up his own bag, having placed his things inside.

You nod your head, “That sounds fitting—wait a minute.”

When it has struck that the question didn’t originate from you, you are turning to Venti, who is already looking at you like a fish out of water. He is just as spooked as you are.

In a flash of a second, the two of you are whipping back because—oh my go-

It isn’t what you expected, but it is greatly welcomed.

“You’re.. still here.”

It is Venti who speaks this time around, his voice faltering as realization comes to dawn slowly upon him.

It is only one out of the three people you invited in the room, but it’s more than enough for you to kneel by his feet and kiss the ground he stands on. Venti is already seizing you by the arms before you can do anything, though.

Kazuha smiles, in his hands a couple of blank papers.

“You are in need of a lyricist, no?”

“Unrelated, but I am in need of a husband, too-”

“[NAME]!!”

≿————-　❈　————-≾

The cheerful bouts from within the music room are loud enough for it to be heard outside. As if anyone will be able to hear it, anyway. Everyone has gone to their dormitories.

Well, for the exclusion of the three in the room—and one outside.

“Kazuha, you’re such a godsend, have I ever told you that?”

“Suddenly I do not know who you are.”

“Hush, Venti.”

With a roll of his golden eyes and a click of his tongue, the dance major sets his headset back onto his ears, having removed it a while ago to (eavesdrop) listen.

The only evidence of his lingering presence outside, albeit fleeting, is his echoing footsteps that eventually fade.

He is gone by the time the group of two, now three, exits the room.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

a/n: aww, kazu bb! unfortunately, the other two are still mia. but they will come around! we still have two (not counting the angst) parts to go!

➸ Falling (ii) Loving (iii)

➸ Taglist

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Return to the Scrying Glass　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

#4nemo #4nemo x reader #reader insert #kazuha x reader #modern au #venti x reader #xiao x reader #aether x reader #idol au #college au #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #i utterly love these boys is my bias showing #it feels foreign writing fluff #BUT I LOVE IT NONETHELESS #female reader

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kai-rax · 2 years

Text

When the Day met the Night (Viktor X Reader)

Chapter One: Distractions ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1 ---> Part 2

Summary: You are a young child born in the Undercity, who has been fortunate enough to be able to go attend school, a rare privilege amongst children of Zaun. You have a hard time focusing in class, but when a new student comes along that has some differences you are not accustomed to, your easily distracted mind is laser-focused on him. A/N: This fic will be a multiple-part series following a fem reader who first meets Viktor as a kid in school. They are only children in the first chapter and after that they will be seen as adults from then on, only re-appearing as children in flashback scenes. I want to make a note that the reader is loosely depicted to be neurodivergent! Specifically ASD and/or ADHD. Traits for these are all different depending on the individual, so I tried to stick with traits that I personally experience and that are fairly common in others too. I hope neurotypicals can also relate to this reader as well and enjoy it just as much as I did writing it! This is the first fic I'm posting publicly and I was inspired by @mischievous-piltovian's Undercity Development Section Series! Warnings: None, except for a tiny bit of angst at the end!

Enjoy! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was your fifth year at your neighborhood’s local Early Learning School House. In Zaun, not many kids got to go to school, but you were one of the lucky ones. Your parents were tireless workers who made the long track up to Piltover every day to make better money than they would in the Undercity, just so you could get an education. You were a strong and smart child and your parents saw protentional in you. However, you didn’t much like school. It was hard to sit still for all those long hours, and while you wanted to make your parents proud, you often got in trouble for misbehaving. You didn’t really do anything bad or mean, it was all small things to you, bouncing your leg and moving your body too much, making a joke to get the others to laugh at the wrong times, passing notes or doodles you made for other students during lectures, anything to give yourself some kind of stimulation to get you through the school day.

The day started like any other. Your mother walked you out of the house, holding your hand as you both walked to the school, an old abandoned church some of the local parents converted into a semi-suitable place for education. Once you arrived your teacher stood on the schoolhouse steps waiting outside for her students. She smiled as you came up the walkway holding your mother’s hand tight getting distracted by little things you saw on the ground as you pass. You and your mother approached the teacher but you were still distracted by a cool coin you saw. Your mother cleared her throat to get your attention, and your head snapped back to look up at her and then at your teacher.

“Hello, Miss!” You said over-enthusiastically trying to make up for your lack of attention, something you knew your teacher had been trying to correct over the years.

“Good morning (Y/N). Good morning Mrs.(Y/L/N)” She responded with a kind smile to you and your mother. “Are you ready to have a good day today (Y/N)?” She asked and you responded with a big nod of your head and a bright smile. You hugged your mother goodbye and ran inside. You halted as you came into the empty room, looking at your favorite desk with a smile as you shuffle over and get yourself comfortable. Taking out your drawing pad and a box covered in doodles, this is where you kept a mixed-up of random crayons, colored pencils, pens, along with a few cool-looking rocks and tiny random objects you had found. Though with all the different stuff you had in there, you didn’t have anything to use for adding purple to your drawings; you had lost your only purple crayon in your messy room back home, which you thought was a shame. Purple was a GREAT color!

Some time had passed and you were still the only one in class. Your parents worked very early in the morning so you were normally the first one there and had the privilege of having the place to yourself for a while. This was your favorite time, you could just let your imagination wander and become entrenched in whatever you were drawing that day, without the teacher reminding you to pay attention. About half an hour passed and the first couple of kids arrived, you felt your concentration slip away. “HEY GUYS!” you almost yell to your friends. “Hey, (Y/N)!” one kid responds. “Why do you have to be so loud?” another asks. “Good morning, (Y/N)” a third child says. You smile brightly and begin chatting with the other kids, giving more ‘Hello’s’ to each person that walks in. You had a routine of counting every kid that walked into the room and memorizing where they sat. The class had about 17 children, and 20 desks. A few empty seats peppered the room, and one of which was right in front of yours.

Once everyone was in, you all could hear the teacher coming toward the door. Everyone got into their seats and sat up straight, but still kept their conversations going. Usually, the teacher would walk right in but this time she had her back to the class while she stood in the doorway. Something was different and you noticed it automatically. You heard the teacher speak quietly to an unknown entity outside of the class just out of view of where you were sitting.

“No, he will do just fine here. I promise I will let you know how everything goes when you come to pick him up. Have a wonderful day.” There was a pause and then she spoke again “Okay, sweetie come along now.” Your focus was now completely on the door, waiting to see what was happening, feeling both excited and nervous. The other kids didn’t really seem to take much note, some of them were still chatting with friends as they waited, others were reading. The teacher turned and entered the classroom and trailing behind her was a new kid, a boy, a boy you had never seen before. If that wasn’t enough to give you your full attention, your eyes quickly snapped to the sight of his cane and his left leg dragging his foot slightly. He stopped in the middle of the room halfway standing behind the teacher, looking around at all the other kids, now with all their attention on him. He’s clearly overwhelmed, but you couldn’t notice that, you were wrapped up in all sorts of thoughts and curiosities. The teacher spoke.

“Children this is our new student.” she said sweetly and he gave a small wave to everyone “Why don’t you introduce yourself to everyone?” She encouraged him. He looked up at her with a bit of dread in his eyes and then shifted his gaze to the class did as he was asked.

“Hello...My er, name is Viktor..” His voice was quiet and had a slight twang to it. You have never heard someone speak like that before. 'Did he have a lisp? Why did he talk like that?' You asked yourself. The teacher spoke again. “Viktor just moved here, make sure you guys help him feel at home. Go on, Viktor.” She gestured toward the desks “Pick any empty seat you like.” He looked around for a moment and then his eyes settled on an empty seat, it was the closest one to the furthest corner of the room, the one right in front of you. You felt yourself tense up a little as he set his sights on it and made his way over. That was a new feeling, you thought. You stared at him as he made his way over slowly, watching him take careful steps as he stared at the ground making sure not to trip on any loose floorboards or stray pencil. He sat down, barely even acknowledging you. He propped his cane on the side of his desk and put his shoulder bag in his lap to pull out his supplies for the day.

You have never been so quiet during class before. Not a peep came out of you, your nerves were all tangled up as you stared at the back of the new boy’s head, fixated on him. Your eyes and ears perked every time he raised his hand to answer a question or ask for help just so you could listen to his voice. He was so strange, so foreign from your routine, you couldn’t figure out how to feel. One thing you did know for sure, you wanted to be his friend. But how?

The first two hours of the class went by so fast, when normally for you they dragged on for what felt like years. You were too entranced by your thoughts and by him. You spent so much time in your own head trying to figure out a plan to best approach the new student. Your trance was finally broken by the teacher announcing that it was break time. This normally was another part of the day where you strived, picking back up on your drawing you started earlier before class or spending time talking and joking with friends. Today, however, you stayed frozen in your seat, too scared you’ll draw attention to yourself causing Viktor to turn to notice you. 'Maybe he will say something? What if that happens?? What do I say back???' You felt that tension again and before you knew it, he was getting up from his seat. You held your breath as you watched him steady himself with a hand on his desk before grabbing his cane and walking to the front of the class. Once he got to the teacher's desk you released your breath, feeling relieved. You overheard him ask the teacher where the water fountain is, she answered him and he made his way out, your eyes still watching him, and your teacher’s eyes, watching you. She stood up from her desk and made her way over to you, looking a bit concerned. You were in a thousand-yard stare, something that wasn’t out of the ordinary for you when you were in deep thought. Once the teacher reached your desk you shook your head, snapping back out of the trance to look up at her with guilty eyes. 'Were you in trouble again? What was I just doing? When did-'

“(Y/N)..” She began, cutting off your thoughts. “You’ve been rather quiet today, is something bothering you?” She asked, already knowing what was going on.

“Uh..I..No, ma’am.” You lied, and she cocked an eyebrow at you. “You know, (Y/N)...you seem to be really intrigued by Viktor...” Your face got hot at the mention of his name, but you stayed silent as she continued “Do you want to be friends with him?” You nod shyly. “Would it be easier for you to do that if I introduced you to him?” She asked, and you gave another nod to the teacher a bit more enthusiastically this time. She held out her hand for you to take and you both walked back up to the front of the class. You felt that weird feeling again, that nervousness was creeping in as you stared at the door. Shortly after Viktor came walking back in and stopped when he saw you holding the teacher’s hand, both waiting for him. He gave a puzzled look up to the teacher and then at you. You began taking mental notes as your eyes met his for the first time. ‘Eyes! That’s my favorite shade of yellow! Those spots on him, dotting his face, one above his lip and the other under his eye, along with a few others peppering his neck and arms. They look like those worksheets with the connect-a-dots!’ you thought to yourself. The teacher looked down and noticed that thousand-yard stare again and gave your hand a little squeeze and you snapped back.

“Viktor, this is (Y/N), they sit behind you.” She gently nudged you towards him and watched between you both, crossing her fingers behind her back, hoping it goes well.

“H-Hello, (Y/N)” Viktor spoke shifting his weight on his cane before shyly looking up at you with a smile, but you were still silent, voice caught up in your throat. Eyes darting back to the teacher as a call for help. She picked up the hint. “Viktor, (Y/N) wanted to ask you something.” followed up with a whisper to you as she leaned down “Go, on. He’s nice, see?” Expecting you to ask him to draw with you, or tell him a joke. Now was your time to shine, you felt your mind going blank and you couldn’t stand the silence so you blurted out loudly.

“WHY DO YOU WALK WITH A STICK?!” Yikes.

Viktor jumped at the sudden volume and the teacher's eyes widened with pure dread, a few kids in the front turned their attention to the three of you. You blurted out more questions before Viktor could even process the first one. “WHY do you talk like that? Where are you from??How old are you???Your eyes are cool!! Do you like the color PURPLE????-” Before you could continue your teacher grabbed you by the shoulders slid you out into the hallway looking back at Viktor to say “Excuse us, sweetie I’ll be right back!” and shut the door behind her. She turned to you and spoke with a stern tone. “(Y/N), what has gotten into you? You nearly scared that boy half to death. You cannot just ask someone why they need help to walk, it's not polite!” You frowned up at her. “I-I…Just wanted to know, I promise, I wasn’t trying to be mean.” The teacher sighed. “I know you were just curious; I know you want to be his friend but Viktor is different and you have to take things a little...gentler. Okay?”

You felt some tears welling up in your eyes, you felt embarrassed and guilty, and even worse from inside you could hear the muffled voices of kids asking questions. "What was the deal with that?” “Hey, why DO you walk with a stick?” “Do you wanna come color with me?” Your heart dropped, as you felt horribly left out, and still trying to understand what just happened. You uttered out “Yes, Ma’am.” sniffling. The teacher patted your back and took your hand to comfort you “Here, let’s get some water and we will go back in together and try again, okay?” You nodded and walked with her to the fountain.

#viktor x reader #viktor #arcane #legue of legends #viktor arcane #kairaxwrites

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

Denied - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff, Crack, slice of life

Summary: Bakugou taught Eri how to swear....Y/N found out.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

For the past 2 weeks, Mr. Aizawa had been having staff meetings back to back and as a result, you and Bakugou have been babysitting Eri. Or more so, you have been babysitting Eri but Bakugou being your boyfriend, he’s usually around. Don’t worry though, like the good boyfriend he is, he usually helps.

Over time, Eri has grown very fond of you and Katsuki. Matter of fact, she loved you both so much, the second she found out you two were dating, she ended up calling you “Mom” and “Dad.” It was adorable, really, and the entire class saw the 3 of you as a little family. Bakugou couldn’t fight the blush that grew on his face everytime Eri called him “Dad” but he got used to it. Now, the two of you even refer to her as your daughter.

Now being around the little girl so much, she has grown to copy some of your behavior and traits. For example, she takes after your love for dance and singing. She’s also learned to play with makeup after watching you apply it so many times. With Bakugou, she’s learned how to defend herself more and be a little more confident. Sadly, she is exposed to his vulgar mouth and attitude and therefore picks up on that a lot. And once you found out, hell broke loose.

—

It was a casual Saturday at the dorms. Some students went home for the weekend while a lot happened to stay behind. Visiting the dorms was sweet little Eri and you were currently having a little play date with her in the common area. Usually, Bakugou would be there with you and her but he’s having his bro time with the boys of the Bakusquad. Understandable. Just means more Eri for you.

Eri was currently drawing a little doodle on some scrap paper while you snacked on apple slices and played on your phone. The white haired girl was filling in her yellow sun when she accidentally split the paper.

“Shit.” She cussed. She didn’t cry at the ruined drawing but she did sigh in disappointment before grabbing a fresh piece of paper.

You on the other hand choked on your fruit slice once your heard the word come out of her mouth. You didn’t bother asking her where she learned the new word. You already knew.

“Eri, sweetie. Stay here for a sec’ okay? I’m gonna go find Dad and talk to him for a bit.” You said with a smile as you got up from your seat on the couch.

“Dad? Ouu, can I go too? I wanna see Dad.” She said with excitement. You smiled at her cute behaviour and ran your fingers through her hair.

“Sorry love, but Dad is in trouble right now. He doesn’t deserve to see his precious little Eri.” You said. She laughed and nodded her head before going back to her drawing. You walked away and once you were out of sight, you dropped your smile and a pair of angry eyes along with a scowl formed on your face. “Oh, Daddy is in so much trouble.”

—

Bakugou was currently in his dorm room with Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari. They were all going at it with each other on Mario Kart until Bakugou’s spidey senses started kicking in.

“Do you guys feel that?” He asked, stopping his movements on the controller. He looked towards the door and he could hear faint footsteps coming towards them.

“What’re you talking about bro?” Kirishima asked as he stopped his game to look at his friend. Kaminari did the same and grew nervous at the frantic look on Bakugou’s face.

“Woah! What’s with that look?” Kaminari asked the shaking man. Bakugou was trembling as he had an idea of who was coming.

“I’m gonna die,” the ash blonde whispered out but still remained loud enough for his friends to hear.

“B-Bakugou! What’s going on?!” Sero asked as he stood up.

“S-Somethings coming!” Bakugou shouted in fear. His friends watched as the bravest guy in the world stood in fear and trembled as he carefully watched the door. Loud footsteps could be heard coming closer and closer and so naturally out of fear, the 3 hid behind the blonde who owned the room.

“What is?!” Kirishima asked.

“Something lethal!” Bakugou replied in fear as he took a step back. The footsteps got louder and louder causing the friends to freak out even more.

“What is coming?! BAKUGOU, WHAT IS COMING?!” Kaminari shouted in fear.

“The devil herself..” The footsteps got louder, got closer, until eventually..they stopped. The 4 friends watched the door until it was busted open to reveal and angry Y/N. “My girlfriend....EXCEPT SHE’S PISSED!”

“KATSUKI BAKUGOU!” You screamed at the trembling blonde who was in front of his cowering friends.

“Wait, wait, wait!” The blonde shouted with his hands up. “....Can I get a head start?”

“Denied.” You bluntly said.

“Figures. RUN!” Bakugou said to his friends. With the dorm room being so small, the 4 friends had nowhere to go. In a bold move, they ran to the exit that you were currently standing in and pushed you out of the way, breaking free from your sight.

“Pathetic.” You said and slanted your eyes at the friends as they ran down the hall. You followed after them and chased them all around the dormitory. From the 4th floor, to the 3rd, to the staircase, to the 1st floor (avoiding Eri), and back up to the 2nd.

The friends all ran together in a group, thinking there would be safety in numbers. They ran together for a good amount of time before a realization came to Kaminari.

“Wait a minute! She’s not after us! She’s pissed at Bakugou!” The electric blonde said while running.

“So, what? Do we ditch him?” Sero asked while they all continued to run.

“Yes!” Kaminari said. The wanted blonde looked to the other blonde in anger.

“What?! You idiots can’t just abandon me!” He said. Kaminari was going to respond until they heard a voice behind them.

“Katsuki!” You screamed. The friends turned around as they continued to run and saw you right on their tail.

“AHHHH!!!!” They all screamed.

“Sorry man! We like living!” Kirishima said.

“Well so do I!” The blonde replied. His best friend just shrugged his shoulders before answering.

“SCATTER!” He said to the other 2 and Bakugou’s 3 friends all went separate ways. Just like they planned, you ignored them and followed your boyfriend’s trail.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! FUCK! FU-“

“SHUT UP KATSUKI!” You said before jumping onto him and tacking him to the ground. You pinned your boyfriend to the floor and he didn’t even open his eyes to look at you.

“ImSorryForEverythingIDidISwearI’llFindAWayToMakeItUpToYouTeddyBear,YouAreTheLoveOfMyLifeAndYou’reSoBeautifulAndILoveTheOutfitYou’reWearing,YouLookBeautifulInEverythingPrincess,I’mSorryIBrokeYourGivenchySunglassesAndBlamedItOnDunceFaceI’llBuyYouNewOnes,ISwear!ILoveYou!” He blurted out with his head facing the other way to ‘dodge’ your attack he assumed you were going to throw.

You sighed and rolled your eyes before getting off of Bakugou and helping him stand to his feet. “Okay, first of all, thank you for the compliments and I love you too baby,” you said and pecked his cheek. “Second, the reason why I’m so mad is because Eri learned a new word today. She fucked up the paper she was drawing on, and cussed. I wonder where she picked that up from..Katsuki.”

Your boyfriend only laughed nervously while shrugging and you sighed some more while throwing your head back. “Okay look, I would punish you, but I’m too tired from all that running and I’m pretty sure all the adrenaline and fear you were feeling before is punishment enough.”

The blonde nodded his head quickly like a puppy trying to agree.

“Just, don’t do it again Suki. Please? At least try to restrain yourself around Eri.” You said. Bakugou nodded again and you huffed before opening your arms up for him. He smiled and quickly took the offering. He held you in his embrace and peppered your face in quick kisses.

“Thank you!” He replied with gratitude. You smiled at him and took his hand to lead him to the common rooms. He happily followed and took a seat on the couch with you, where Eri finally noticed his presence.

“Mom! Dad! You’re back!” Your “daughter” said as she jumped the two of you on the couch. Bakugou pulled her into his lap so you could all be together.

“Listen kid, there’s gonna be a few words that’ll occasionally slip out of my mouth from time to time and it’s important for you to not say them. Okay?” Bakugou said to the little girl.

“Okay! But what are the words?” She asked him. Bakugou just chuckled and placed a hand on her head before speaking.

“We’ll speak about that next time, for now just get back to playing.” He said.

“Okay!” Was all she said before jumping off his lap and going back to her crayons. You scooted closer to Katsuki and squeezed his hand that you were still holding. This grabbed his attention and he turned and placed a quick kiss on your lips before throwing his arm around your shoulder. You leaned into his touch and you both cuddled up on the couch. Some time passed and you both talked, watched Eri, and played around with her until you two cuddled up again and you turned to ask him a question.

“So...about my Givenchy Sunglasses,” you questioned him. Bakugou froze up in fear again before releasing a nervous chuckle.

“Hehe...”

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101

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ninjnerd-anaklusmos · 2 years

Note

Hi, for your 100 follower event could I ask for I'm only me when I'm with you with Beelzebub please 🙂

Thanks for the ask! I am once again sorry for it taking so long to get this out, but I hope you like it!

I'm Only Me When I'm With You:

Beelzebub was pretty well-known for his laid-back attitude. Much like his twin in a sense, never wanting to start anything. The similarities ended there. Belphegor was more conniving and petty, willing to do anything to make the person who wronged him miserable. Beelzebub was a man of forgiveness and heart, a rarity with demons, no matter how socially advanced their society may be. Beelzebub was also well-known for his intense love of food, and how he would do most anything for it. The gluttony demon would love a being forever if they ever gave him anything to nibble on, and he would try to return the favor within a timely manner.

Asides from that, most demons knew little about him. They lowered him down to a personality of food and marshmallow filling, leaving him be. But they would never know him the way his family did, the differences he took on when he felt comfortable with himself, with the world. With his past. Whatever the case may be, Beelzebub was a different being behind closed doors, and no one else in the world seemed to understand this as a fact. Well, except for those closest to his heart, anyway.

***

“Beel,” Belphegor whined, making grabby hands at his twin. “I’m cold.”

Beelzebub, who was currently cutting a piece of paper and surrounded by craft supplies, hummed a half-response under his breath. He was deathly focused on his precise snipping, making sure it would turn out perfect. Belphegor groaned in defeat, flopping back against his twin’s bedsheets, grumbling to himself. After a moment, Belphegor looked back over at his twin as he worked, watching him slowly make progress on his project. Unable to resist, Belphegor snickered softly to himself at his idea.

Climbing out of bed, Belphegor walked over to Beelzebub, who was so engrossed in what he was doing that he failed to notice his twin creeping up on him. (Well, walking could hardly be considered creeping, but semantics will be semantics.) The sloth demon leaned against Beelzebub’s back, “Boo!”

Beelzebub yelped, tossing a container of glitter over his shoulder, the sticky flakes exploding everywhere on the floor. Beelzebub huffed, tossing a glare over his shoulder at his lazy brother. “Really?”

Belphegor laughed softly, hugging his twin before he moved to sit beside him. “You need to loosen up. Asmodeus did say our room was kind of drab.”

Beelzebub shook his head, gesturing at the pink, white, and red flakes of glitter strewn about their shared floor. “I don’t think this is what he meant.”

“Ah,” Belphegor raised his finger, “but are we sure he didn’t mean glitter everywhere?”

Beelzebub snorted, leaning against his twin. “You’re a menace.”

Belphegor teasingly said, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

The gluttony demon sighed dramatically. “I guess you have a lot of glitter to clean up then.”

Belphegor blinked, as if this had just occurred to him. “Uh, no. How long does it take to make a card anyway?”

Beelzebub felt his cheeks redden, nervously fiddling with a marker. “However long it takes.”

The sloth demon rolled his eyes, grabbing an extra sheet of paper and a few red-themed crayons, “You finish yours. I’ll just doodle.”

Beelzebub bit his lip, looking back at his half-finished red monstrosity. It was oozing glitter glue all over the table, and the markers and crayons were in the wrong boxes. There were paper cuttings everywhere, and he hadn’t even managed to make the perfect shape yet. The older of the two sighed, pressing his face into his hands. “Belphie, I don’t think I can make a card good enough for MC.”

Unable to see his twin, Beelzebub was unaware of the look of shock that was currently on Belphegor’s face. “You- oh no, you’re serious.”

Beelzebub felt Belphegor’s hands on his arm, “Beel, come on! You’re you! Why wouldn’t it be good enough for the human?”

Beelzebub didn’t answer right away, unsure how to. How could he tell Belphegor that he was terrified he would do something wrong and make MC never want to see him again? What if he seemed to interested in food, instead of MC on their dates? What would happen if he accidentally tried to eat MC in his sleep? (Belphegor was still angry about that, but in Beelzebub’s defense, Belphegor controlled dreams, so it wasn’t entirely his fault.)

“Beel, you are worth everything that human is, okay? More than, actually.”

Beelzebub arched his brow at his twin, resting his chin in his hand. “Uh huh. I know you like them.”

Belphegor scoffed, “Tolerable if only because they make a wonderful pillow. And it pisses Mammon off. Anyway, you are amazing and wonderful, kind and gentle. Why would they care if your card is... well...”

Beelzebub sighed softly, looking over at his attempt at card-making. “A failure?”

Belphegor pursed his lips, patting his twin awkwardly on the shoulder. “Let’s just say your talents lie elsewhere. But my point is, they love you right? Not your romantic card making skills, or your amazing Fangol skills. They love you for the you on the inside, and the one on the out.”

Beelzebub stared at Belphegor for a moment, then he smiled. “You still think Valentine’s Day is for losers?”

Belphegor rolled his eyes, getting up. “Yes. Chocolate’s cheaper on the next day anyway. So are the stuffies.”

Beelzebub laughed, taking another look at his pile of attempted romance. “Belphie?”

His twin glanced back at him, halfway to his bed. “Yeah?”

Beelzebub scratched his chin, “Could you maybe... help me?”

Belphegor grinned like a child in the candy aisle. “I was waiting for that! Okay, I hate to do this to you, but we have to start over.”

***

MC was flattered honestly by the fact that Beelzebub had even went through the hassle of making them a card. Granted, the card had some unintelligible squiggles that Belphegor insisted were them as stick people and it smelled suspiciously of frosting, but it was clearly made with love and tenderness. Beelzebub had worked very hard on it, if the glitter all over him and his twin meant anything at all. MC smiled warmly at them, clutching the card to their chest. “I love it! Thank you so much.”

Beelzebub grinned at them, freckles covered in glitter and his eyes shimmering. “I hoped you would!”

Belphegor, who was in an equally glittery state, was trying to rub it off. He only succeeded in smearing it around more and more. “Of course they love it.”

MC grinned at them, unable to resist a tiny bit of teasing. “Hey, I thought gingers were supposed to have freckles?”

Belphegor lasered a glare at the human, “Say that again.”

Beelzebub laughed nervously, “Maybe we should just-”

MC gestured at the glitter all over the sloth demon, and his rolled up sleeves that revealed the pale brown specks on his forearms. “You look like you’ve stolen a lot of souls.”

Belphegor grabbed Beelzebub’s jacket sleeve, “Hold me back.”

The gluttony demon sighed tiredly. Maybe he would be the one taking a nap today.

Curious to see what this is? Please click this post!

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phoenix-manga · 3 years

Text

Preschool Trainer AU

This is just an extra AU where instead of Phoebe that got transported to the TWST world, its a little preschooler named Posie.

Home: Kalos Region

Town: Laverre City

A 6-year-old little girl who tries to put up a brave front but immediately cowers when she is overwhelmed. She has a love for cute Pokémon and would often dream of owning one someday. She did get her wish when she was given a Swirlix. Posie spends a lot of time with her Pokémon and is influenced by its love for sweets to develop a sweet tooth.

She grew up with her parents who run a sweets shop, she always does her best to help them finish tasks, because of this she can carry out orders that can be accomplished by a toddler.

As a child who is studying in a Pokémon pre-school, the most she got to battle were other preschoolers and the occasional grade-schoolers.

There is two other Pokémon she possesses, it was the first one she caught when they were being taught how to throw a pokéball and they got to go to a Pokémon park where they go around the area to find Pokémon.

Pokémon

Swirlix (Mr. Sweets)

Moves: Play Rough, Psychic, Cotton Guard, Thunderbolt

“This is Mr. Sweets! He’s not mean, he just needs some sweets and he’ll be all happy and friendly!”

The first Pokémon Posie received at the age of 4, it was very sweet and was quite protective of Posie. But when it gets grumpy, it’ll lash out at anyone except Poise until it was fed with sweets.

Swirlix is often the ring leader of the Pokémon trio, it was the bravest of the three who would initiate close quarters combat no matter how big or tough the opponent is.

Swirlix is also the oldest since it was caught as a mature Pokémon, so it was the most mature and often acted as Posie’s guardian.

Wooper (Mr. Doodles)

Moves: Mud Shot, Water Gun, Slam, Protect

“Mr. Doodles disappeared again! Please help me find my Mr. Doodles!”

Posie happened to come across a Wooper and decided to try and battle it first. Though she fumbled a bit, Swirlix took initiative and just straight up roughhoused the Wooper until it fainted.

He is a rather airheaded Pokémon and sometimes doesn’t listen well to orders. It would just either flop to the ground with that dumb smile on his face or just drag its tail on the ground to make swirls in the dirt, hence the name “Mr. Doodles”.

Though when Wooper does fight, it happens to always get a strong hit due to catching the opponent off-guard with its natural airheaded attitude.

It loves the smell of Swrilix and would often just clamp its mouth around its cotton candy fur, which Swirlix retaliates and ends up wrestling the Wooper. But Wooper doesn’t even seem to mind being wrestled as it has that same derpy look.

Despite having no arms, Wooper will use its mouth to draw on paper with crayons or if they’re using paint, it will dip its tail in the paint and brush it all over the paper. Drawing is a hobby of the Wooper for some reason.

Budew (Rosie)

Moves: Stun Spore, Protect, Seed Bomb, Uproar

“My mommy gave me Rosie when I finished preschool! I need to find a watering can to keep her happy, please?”

When Posie finished Pokémon Preschool, her mother gave her the last Pokémon which was a Budew that was hatched from an egg that came from her Mother’s Roserade.

The Budew was a very ladylike Pokémon and was always just sitting by itself on a flower bed soaking up the sunlight. However, when Wooper drags its tail and ruins the flowerbed, Budew with start throwing hands seeds at it. Swirlix will have to step in to settle the argument.

Budew absolutely loves accessories and would appreciate Posie dressing it up with contest accessories from her mother’s old contest kit.

#pokemon #twst #twst x pokemon #pokemon x twisted wonderland #Preschool Trainer AU

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funnyexel · 3 years

Text

Quiet Tsundere x Reader

A/n: This is a drabble. If you like it don’t be shy, leave a request. In the requests on my page. Enjoy <3333

Masterlist Mega List

Yawning, your locker slams shut. You jump at the sudden action, drowsiness present in your form. He towered over you. Looking down at you as if you’re a lesser being than him. You stared back at him. Silently having a staring contest until you gave in. Yawning once again, you lean against the locker. “Yes?” You grip onto your books as they slowly slip out of your hands. He only looks you up and down. Hitting your books with little effort nearly knocking them out your hand and poking you with minimal force. “I’m tired. I was up all night.” You rub your watery eyes. He walked away from you. Maybe onto his next class but it was beyond you as the bell rang to continue your tiring school day.

You sat in your usual choice of seats. In the back, you’ve been doing this since the first few weeks of school. The words coming out of the teachers mouth was equivalent to gibberish. You didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand. Sleep was taking over your body as your head met the comfortable school desk. And just like that you were back into dream world. How you ended up sleeping in class was an interesting reason. To think it’d be because of studying or something like that but no. It was because of dumb, never gonna happen fantasies. And with the last person you thought would be in your head in this type of way. How in the world did this happen? Funny story...

“You’re telling me. You have no feelings whatsoever. If he’s not sexually harassing you, they say it’s a sign he likes you.” You roll your eyes at her ridiculous accusations. In your mind, the day he likes you is the day pigs fly. “Mhm. That’s exactly what I’m telling you. He doesn’t utter a word to me. What makes you think he likes me.” You chuckle, hearing how crazy it sounds coming from your mouth. This goes on for days and days on end. Until you’re up at night, thinking if he really does like you. Making scenes and scenarios in your head about confessions, dates and other things.

And most unexpectedly fantasies about his voice, if it would be deep and smooth or high and premature. It really stumped you. You heard rumors around the school about how his voice is deep and gravely like concrete. Whatever that means, but then again it’s just rumors. Could be true, could be false but only the one the rumor is about will know. On the flip side, his “friends” were noticing his actions towards you as well. It was sudden nonetheless but it was frequently that they would see him around you. He had one true friend. One he knew since the crayon stage.

He’s the only one that he got comfortable enough around to speak and use his voice. Why is this? He was insecure about his voice. It wasn’t bad or anything but he thought it was super deep, so one day after puberty hit him he decided to stop talking and only talk around those he’s comfortable around. He wanted you to be one of those people. Oh, how it would overjoy him for you to be one of those people. He could talk for hours and hours on end if he had the right person. And in the back of his mind, you were his right person. Corny? Yes and he knew this so he kept to himself. Keeping it well hidden at that.

The girls that hung around his “friends” hung around him too and he disliked it. These wasn’t his kind of people, they were cool and whatever but not his type of crowd. They started to pick at you while he turned a blind eye. Saying small remarks like “such a pick me girl” and “she came outside wearing that?” It was subtle at first but became more and more obvious. Even though he wouldn’t talk, his body language spoke volumes. With a stare he stopped them from picking at you but it only stopped momentarily. Given they saw how it riled him up and they thought it was hot in a way. Very weird I know.

“Y/n.” What’s that noise? You thought. “Y/n L/n!” A pair of hands slam on your desk causing you to jump up. They could visibly see the tiredness in your face. “Y/n, go to I.S.S.” They demand. The class inserts cartoon like noises, while you pack up your belongs and make your way to the classroom. You huff as you close the door to your classroom. Sleepily walking to the I.S.S. classroom which is turning into a jog as the hall monitor cracks down on you. They follow you to I.S.S. and close the door behind you. You look at the basically empty classroom with barely anyone in it.

Sitting down at one of the back desks, you take out a notebook and doodle. A few minutes pass by and a piece of paper slides its way onto your desk. You didn’t see where it came from so you opened it. “how’d a goodie two shoes end up in here?” You lip sync to yourself, now knowing who its from. There lay, the way too familiar bookbag. You sigh and crumple the paper in your hand, putting it in your backpack. Now going back to your doodling activities. This time a paper ball hit your head and landed in front of you. “stop crumpling up my note, idoit.” You roll your eyes and write under his words.

“you spelled that wrong and I’ll keep crumpling it up if I want to.” You throw it into his lap. He sat at the desk, in front of you to the left. “I know I did, you autocorrect junkie. did you break a pencil or better yet fold a paper wrong.” He was messing with you. “shut up and stop throwing this back, you’re gonna get me in trouble.” You finally go back to your doodling. You feel a minor yet hard kick in your leg. You jerk up ready to place your fury upon the poor soul. He puts his hand up for you to stop then points to the teacher, she was pregnant and out cold. He throws the paper at your chest and turns back.

Frustratingly, you open and read it. “she’s not even paying attention. and you have nothing better to do.” The temptation to crumple this paper is unbearable. “LEAVE ME ALONE!!” You throw the paper at his head, turning your body to the right and continue your doodling. Now in peace, you realize what you’re doodling. It was a mini comic about confessing. Alertly looking around, you rip out the page and shove it into your bookbag. ‘I hope no one saw that.’ You breath out at the thought. You felt little hits at your head, again and again and again. It was slowly getting to you.

‘can’t this be over already.’ You bury your head into your arms. A soft tap is placed upon your right shoulder. Lifting up your head, an unbothered female rests the note on your desk. You’ve seen her before around the school, she was pretty antisocial as far as you knew. “Those group of girls in the front are staring at you.” At the last word, you lift up the note a bit to get the girls in your eye range. Placing the note on your desk, you reply. “nice to know...you wouldn’t happen to know why. would you?” You drop it on her desk. He stopped throwing paper at you.

Unfolding her note. “because of your friend. watch out for them, they’re not so...friendly.” You glance at the women again, this time they notice you. “he’s not my friend. but thanks for the heads up. I’m y/n. what’s your name? I’ve seen you around before.” As you pass her the note, he gently places a note on your desk. “This is alot of note passing.” You mutter to yourself. “look at the door, stupid.” Rolling your eyes, you look and see your best friend. A smile creeps it’s way onto your face. “What are you doing?” You lip sync to her. “Class is over come on it’s lunch.” She motions you to come out.

Shaking your head, you receive the note from the girl. “Vera.” You put the note in your pocket and look back to your best friend having a silent squabble with him. You motion for her to stop. The sound of the bell echoes in the class, awaking the teacher. Looking to the ground, a puddle of papers engulf your feet. Thinking fast, you move your backpack closer to the papers and shove them all in your bag. “Ok. I don’t feel like filling in a report so this time, I’ll cut you all lose. Out.” She motions to the door and she didn’t have to tell you twice. You dashed to the door, almost knocking your best friend out.

Taking her wrist, you pull her to the cafeteria. Sitting her outside at your usual table, she sighs. “He’s annoying....” You slowly nod to her observation. “Just right for you.” She adds to her unfinished statement with a devilish smile. You slap your hand to your forehead and shake your head. She chuckles, leaving to get lunch for you and her. You pull out the papers from your bag. All were blank except for one.

“This note is for the Idiot who finds it. You Lack In the brain department. Just so you Know. It Even hurts mY brain to talk tO yoU. Even though I don’t talk.”

This note made no since what so ever, some letters were written over as if he made a mistake. You put the confusing note in your pocket for later. Feeling the breeze, you close your eyes and relax. “What do you want with Arthur?” A girl in close contact, spits with a noticeable cruel attitude. You open your eyes and they land on the same girls that were in I.S.S. They stare at you intensely. Causing you to answer. “Nothing.” You awkwardly say, playing with a piece of paper. She snatches the piece of paper from you. “Like hell! You’re ugly. He doesn’t like you and would never like you.”

They encourage her hateful words. “Honestly, she’s the bottom of the barrel.” They begin to cackle at the ‘not so insulting’ insult. It was insulting but not so much for you to go crying to your mommy. Taking their leave. “And him being with you would be the top of the barrel. Wouldn’t it?” A snarky remark leaving your mouth, loud enough for them to hear. “What did you just say?” She turns her head, doll like. Reminding you of Annabelle. “I said, And him being with you would be the top of the barrel. Wouldn’t it?” You repeat yourself but speak slower so it can sink in.

“Can we help you?” Quinn says, placing the food on the table and standing by you with her knee on the seat. “Listen here, skank. He doesn’t want you.” You roll your eyes at her. “Yeah, I can tell. I’m not interested in him. You can knock yourself out. Metaphorically.” You sigh and take a water from the tray. She gets visibly more frustrated and mad at your unbothered state. Scoffing loudly, she leaves you alone. Glancing at the surroundings, people were gathering around you. They soon realized it was just a disagreement and go back to their business. Quinn was very surprised at how you handled the situation.

Surprised that you even responded to her. “I’ll beat her up.” You chuckle at your best friend. “Words can’t hurt me.” You breathy huff and lean your head in your palm. Secretly staring at her approaching him, smothering him. ‘He looks so uncomfortable.’ You stop staring at her and look at him. He catches your eye and you revert your eyes back to Quinn. She was staring at you the whole time. “I’m not interested in him, she says.” She mocks you, even adding her own commentary. The end of the day came pretty quickly. The halls were practically empty as you went to your locker for the rest of your stuff.

“I just had to get held back by that teacher. Wasn’t I.S.S enough for them?” You say to yourself as you put your stuff in your backpack. The click of your lock, set about some rapid footsteps coming towards you. You looked and two people grabbed you by the arms. “Let go of me!” You yelled in her face. She laughs wickedly as you get dragged into the bathroom. They striped you of your bookbag and threw you into the stall doors. Your back hit harder than it sounded. As they started to beat you up, you reached into your pocket and pull out your taser, tasing someone in the ankle.

They dropped down to the ground and this was your chance. Hurriedly crawling to the bathroom door, you push it open. At that moment, you got away. A tight grip is placed upon your ankles with all your might you hold onto the door frame and scream to the top of your lungs. All the while, one of them were pulling your ankles with all their might. Your hands gave in as soon as another pair of palms gripped onto your ankles. Your screams echoed from the bathroom for a moment until an inhuman slam came across the door. Silence filled the restroom, you laid on the floor bruised up and lightly bloody as they stopped their movements to the new person.

Hearing yelps of surprise, soon enough you were being lift up bridal style in strong arms. Your left eye refusing to open, you stared at him with your right. A heavy sigh of relief, left your lips as you leaned into him a little closer than before. The far too familiar sound of cheap paper crumping fills your ears as he sets you down on the nurses table. The nurse wasn’t there but the door was unlocked. He got some band-aids and alcohol. Sitting on a chair next to the table, he patched you up best he could. You avoided eye contact with him at all costs. “This is awkward.” His voice shook you to your core. Though you were already shaking from the recent events.

“y-yeah.” Voice low and sore from screaming. He finished, putting all the stuff back, placing a ice pack to a huge bruise on your leg and giving you another for your eye. You stayed quiet for the most part, but you reached into your pocket and held out the crumbled note to him. He looked to you and took it. Leaving the ice pack on your leg, he unfolded it and immediately saw your writing on the bottom. “I like you too.” He lip synced your neatly written words. Shoving the note into his pocket, he gazed into your eyes with hopefulness. “can we leave?” You state, feeling like someone is watching you. He offered you a ride home which you gladly took, having already missed the public bus.

You both talked the whole ride. Getting used to his voice. He took you to get some food. Throughout the ride, you both established that you’ll keep this relationship on the down low. Arriving at your home, you invited him in but he politely declined. “I’ll see you in the morning?” You leaned in the window and nodded with a smile. “Bye.” You flash one last smile before turning and walking to your front door. Putting in the passcode and entering the house. Walking into the kitchen you but your fast food bag on the island and took a sip of your drink as you dialed a frequent number. “Quinn. You will not believe what just happened.”

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sugar-petals · 3 years

Note

Cause obviously I love pain can u show us some of youngi's best looks when he was in all his amazing gamine style glory 😂

gamines pull off almost anything as long as the styles they wear are combined from several genres. yoongi has been lucky, k-pop stylists do nothing but.

they can morph a college shirt with satin blazers and put hawaii shirts with random crayon doodles on yoongi in a black cap wearing eyeliner and bracelets.

this kibbe type can borrow the stiff high fashion from dramatic and the dreamy soft fabrics from romantic, no problem. exception: yoongi is too small for pulling off anything that’s flamboyant natural aka joonie-sized.

the opposite is needed. very fitted clothes that are a perfect mix of traditional tailoring for men, with a twist e.g. some shiny surfaces.

this one... this is good stuff. very gamine haircut and little accessories that round up the look. no other guy can wear this successfully. it’s crossing into SG, but... the fame that the pink suit garnered speaks for itself.

same thing here. traditional cut, modern twist with the bowtie and pattern. gamines are by far the most capable of doing androgyny because they are both very yin and very yang. look also how sharp shoulders are so good on him. yoongi needs that stability in his clothing.

bomber jackets are the gamine go-to. you can’t overdesign them, the busier the embroidery, the better. eclectic jewelry and bleached hair, works perfectly. gamines are the forever young-seeming fashion icons who are underdressed if you don’t overdo it. even red glitter looks normal on him.

that’s why anything formal, uni-colored, or meant for 40+ people will look strange. and yes, even if you’re a 70 year old pure gamine, the rule stands, pick what the youth is wearing. it’ll fit your frame and be way more appropriate. why not dress corporate and mature? look what happens when yoongi does:

complete chaos, the proportions are completely weird. this finds a better place on taehyung who can make the most old-fashioned things look interesting since he’s a dramatic classic (a type that is killed by dressing younger which is why they’re so different from gamines).

gamines look their best and are most comfortable in anything james dean and kate moss would highly approve of. great example, very sexy:

what makes the outfit gamine and not dramatic: combining the yang-heavy jacket with the dots (yin). the bigger the crossover, the better the look. that’s why yoongi can wear the opposite theme of james dean as well.

i call it: harmless young man at the shore 😂 how cute is he! all in all, you can see the impossible range of this type. they have an even wider spectrum of possibilities than the other types and kibbe already has a lot of recommendations in every style genre for each of the 5 main categories. e.g. you can dress e.g. (soft) dramatics as punk, royal, sporty, beach, office, and so on.

it’s just that gamine is blessed with having two opposing essences — i mean look how ppl love his soft face and his bony hands —which is why they look so good in hybridized looks from two different worlds. that dualism can be as subtle as wearing minimal classic shirts with dangly earrings and shading the face. gamine is best for mixed messages fashion, look at our goth husband.

#yoongi #kibbe #gamine #kibbe types #kibbe body types #anon #ask #cub mail 🐆

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iwriteforthetincanman · 4 years

Text

Mandoctober Day 5: Target Practice

A/N: I managed to write something in a day that was under 2,000 words...yay?

for @leo-moon ‘s Mandoctober!

It was just something you had mentioned over dinner one night. You had asked him how he got a clear fix on his targets with the helmet on, he told you and you had offhandedly blurted out that you had never used a blaster before.

What you didn’t expect was for the Mandalorian to make a huge deal out of it by teaching you the very next day.

The weight of it rested heavily in your palm as you assessed the weapon uneasily. Dread crept up your spine with it followed by the feeling that you hadn’t picked up on this skill before for a reason. It was either inadequacy or fear.

Whatever it was, Mando picked up on it when the look on your face morphed into concern.

Breaking you out of your reverie, his hand gently wrapped around your wrist. Sharing the weight somehow.

“Just because I’m teaching you how to use it, doesn’t guarantee that you’ll have to.” In an attempt to reassure you, all it did was increase your awareness towards the situation. Realising how important the lesson truly was. If it meant protecting yourself and the kid, kriff, even Mando, you would do it.

Gaining back your focus, you nodded solemnly. Tearing your gaze away from his vizor before fixing it on the targets before you. You couldn’t help stifling a giggle.

In an attempt to help with today’s lesson, the child had scrawled ‘angry’ faces on the targets with his crayons. You had almost forgotten the gift since you had purchased them so long ago now. Green ears tilted upwards, he awaited your response.

“Very good Ad’ika. Scary.” Pointing at the targets you feinted fear, legs shaking and everything. The little one giggled up at you, pleased with his creations, he left the red crayon on the ground in his excitement. Waddling towards his buirs he made grabby hands at Mando.

Although he had taught you the basics of Mando’a he still refused to tell you his name, which you respected along with the creed. What you couldn’t help was the feelings that crept closer into your heart whenever he was around. Sure, you kept your cool but when he was impossibly close, that was when all composure flew out the window.

“Sorry Ad’ika but I’ve got to help buir right now.” Mando picked him up briefly only to place him into his silver pram, so he was safe and out of the way. Pouting mixed with those big eyes of his became a distraction for a short while but you had learnt to resist it. It was for the best. Making his way back over to you, you noticed how the bounty hunter was now reaching out to you. As if he was going to pick you up.

A shiver rippled down your back at the thought.

Instead, his steps fell behind you whereas his hands landed on your hips. Almost furiously a blush scorched across your skin, your mind producing a blank page, no words. The Mandalorian had effortlessly left you speechless. An unexpected warmth surged from his palms and up your sides, seemingly warming your soul as you tried not to combust on the spot.

“You need to brace yourself for when you shoot so you don’t end up falling over. Think you can do that?” Hearing a teasing lilt in his voice, you made an attempt to play along.

“I’d like to think I’ve handled worse.” Huffing nervously, you waited for some kind of response. A noise you later identified as a chuckle left the modulator, causing the warm feeling to blossom.

“Alright tough girl. Let’s see what you’ve got. Try shooting the middle one.” Pointing to the target in question, you missed the weight of his palm. In total there were four targets, they were large tin cans used for the ‘good’ food rations, with some scratchy material shoved over them for the child’s benefit in doodling.

Choking on your own breath at the nickname, you steadied your arm as you lined it up with the target. Feeling an intake of breath from behind, you copied the action. Hold.

Fire.

The violent red streak of energy narrowly missed the target, burning the grass just behind it. Charred grass. That’s all you had left to show. Letting out a disappointed sigh, Mando relaxed behind you.

“Hey, it’s alright, I would’ve been really surprised if you had gotten it on the first try. This is the whole point of the lesson.” Turning to face him, regrettably tearing away from his grasp, a bitter look overtook your features.

“Fine then. Teach me.” A softer curve replaced the one on your brow. Giving way to your reluctance and yet, you wanted-no, needed to know how to use this thing.

All you could see was the visor but it was like you could sense what kind of expression was hidden behind it just by the way his shoulders fell.

“Okay.”

The next few minutes consisted of him showing you how to lock on to the target accurately. That was the goal anyway, but you were standing still and in a fight the target would be moving and so would you. Especially if you were the one running away.

As if the child sensed this from his crib, he started to levitate the cans. Giggling almost maniacally as he did so.

“He’s getting better at that.” You chuckle at the sight.

“Well it’s a good opportunity. Go ahead.” Nodding towards it, once again he stepped behind you. Except this time he didn’t guide you in any way. Was he that confident you were going to get it? It was almost like you did it on purpose, but you moved your feet causing your stance to falter.

A hand shot to your waist, as if to catch you.

You suppressed a smirk.

“Careful Cyar’ika.” This was a new word. One he hadn’t taught you. But the way he practically purred it gave you some idea of what it meant.

“I’m starting to think you don’t really need to be holding onto me for this Mando.” You somehow flirted back. Thoughts crystal clear as to what you wanted. He tensed at the insinuation, but with it his arms wrapped further around your torso, pulling you into an embrace of sorts.

“Maybe...I just want to be close to you.” A sigh fluttered through your lips as you turned your face, gaze meeting his. Even if all you could see was the beskar, you caught the depth behind his words.

You wanted to kiss him, Maker, you did.

But what happened next kind of derailed the whole situation.

CLANG!

The kid had thrown the can at his buir’s helmet in his impatience.

Throughout your whole ‘moment’ you had completely forgotten about the child helping with the lesson. Now he was tired and cranky.

Mando had whipped away from you in an instant, as if threatened by the flying object. When he met the gaze of his grumpy son, you couldn’t help giggling.

---

After that you had managed to shoot three targets. You weren’t the best but it was a start and with practice you would improve.

Later on into the evening, the child was fast asleep with you and Mando quietly loading everything back into the Crest. No words had been shared between the two of you for a while now, but the warmth from before was still present.

Glancing over to the beskar-clad warrior, you noticed the smallest of dents in his helmet. Somehow Ad’ika had thrown it hard enough to leave a mark on his father’s ‘head’. It distracted you enough from your work to finally make your way over to him.

Skimming your fingers over the mark, the helmet gently turned under your touch. Rising to your height, your hand fell to his shoulder. The quiet tension was still there, just waiting to be broken...or something else.

“It’ll buff out with time.” It’s meant as a reassurance but the way you say it carries across a different meaning.

“I’m sure it will.” He mumbles back, before his hands make their way back to your waist. This time pulling you in to the point where you’re chest to chest. Melting into his grasp, your arms wrap around his shoulders. This was some kind of hug, yet it felt like dancing even if the both of you were perfectly still.

The feeling grew molten when the brow of his helmet fell to rest against yours.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything Cyar’ika.”

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cdfreak · 3 years

Note

hey idk if you remember me but i was the 'my friend was addicted to vladimir putin x the reader fic in middle school anon' well i just remembered some other batshit stuff my friends and i did in middle school and i don't know who to tell bc idk if anyone would listen but i figured you wouldn't mind anyway feel free to ignore this if you want but. basically when i was in 7th grade my school decided that as group bonding shit each advisory would make its own flag to represent itself (1/10)

side note: i know not all schools have advisories so i just wanna clarify it was sorta like a prep school version of home room? except we did group bonding stuff together and sometimes ate weird ass snacks n stuff. so anyway we had to make this flag and my advisor was infamously awful bc it was our advisor's first year being a teacher and she didn't know what she was doing. on top of that the kids in the advisory were batshit (me included) we had this one girl who was rich af who always (2/10)

bragged abt how much money her dad made, we had a kid who was sketch and disappeared mid-year and we never found out why (we held a ceremony for him where i played the clarinet in his honor but thats another story), we had one kid who was chill at first but then he started dating a girl who was an ass and we all called him 'traitor' after that, there was me (closeted nonbinary lesbian but still mean and weird af), and of course my friend vladimir putin girl (3/10)

was there too (we were together til the end) and also there was this one girl from a neighboring advisory who was actually pretty chill and she'd come and hide in our advisory bc her advisory didnt like her but she's not important to this story. so the day that the flag-making activity is announced we're supposed to pick the integral parts of our flag and start drawing. we're supposed to have a motto and an animal that represents us. but the day this happens everyone but 2 kids are sick (4/10)

with the flu. i am one of the kids sick, i think it was the boy who disappeared and traitor who were left behind to fend for themselves. literally everyone even remotely artistically talented is gone on the day we start drawing. the next day we work on the flag we are all gone but the 2 kids have already picked our animal (goats) and our motto (fly like a butterfly float like a bee, which they contributed to caillou yes as in the cartoon character). we need to start coloring in the flag (5/10)

but none of us have any colored pencils except the rich girl but she won't share bc she thinks this activity is below her and so we rummage around in the drawers of the classroom and eventually find 2 crayons and they are like a nice teal color and a shit orange-red (think color scheme like if perry the platypus had an evil twin) and so we start coloring and i don't know this is supposed to be a flag yet bc our advisor has fucked off and not told us its a flag contest so us kids who are (6/10)

only just showing up think it's just some weird craft project and we just start fucking doodling. whatever we want. we write caillou on the flag at least 83 times. i draw a giant squid somewhere in the corner. vladimir putin girl writes a swear somewhere by the goat's head and starts to doodle flowers. traitor returns from a neighboring classroom victorious holding a bag of colored pencils and we can now expand our color scheme. we tie-dye the goat's face. by the time our advisor returns (7/10)

with glitter (idk why she brought glitter we never used it) to tell us its a flag its too late; we have created a monster. she confiscates the franken flag so that we can do no more damage and it is never finished. we think that it is done. but it is not done. it cannot be over, not yet. it is months later when we are walking the 7th grade hall after a shit english class that we find out what the flags were for. we leave the english classroom and find that everyone is out in the hallway (8/10)

looking at something, looking up, looking at what? and me and vladimir putin girl follow their gaze in unison and we see like 20 flags of the 7th grade advisories. they are crisp, clean, and uniform. they are laminated and placed in plastic frames. they hang above the lockers. most of them look pretty fucking good - the advisory of my latin teacher went so far as to create a whole freaking crest. they made it look serious and their animal was a WALRUS. and there, among all of the flags (9/10)

sits our fucked-up psychedelic goat. and the boy who disappeared isn't even able to see it when the other kids lose their shit at the amount of times we wrote 'caillou' on one piece of paper before it was confiscated from us. thx again for listening <3 (10/10)

this was such a trip thank u so much anon. your middle school experience fascinates me to no end. i would love to study you

#i saw the last ask before i read like all the other parts and i gotta admit i was expecting a real goat to show up somewhere #asks #anon

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clownwritesfanfic · 4 years

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Look it’s my first original post wow. This was a topic discussed in a Discord server I’m in, Hello there if you are from that server. Also thanks if you helped when i got stuck. I decided to share it here because I had a bit of fun with it.

Slashers/Horror Characters and their hobbies (when they’re not on a killing spree)

Michael (1978) would probably read. I like to think they would at least give him some books to read in the asylum. If his victim has a collection of books and he’s got time he’ll browse through the selections and take some that intrigue him. His favourite genre would probably be mystery or psychological horror. Think SAW if it was a book. 2007 remake Michael, as we already know likes to make masks. I don’t really think that would stop after escaping.

Bubba would enjoy cooking and baking I think. He’d get all prettied up in his pretty woman mask and a nice non-bloodied apron and get to work. He doesn’t get to cook that often because Drayton thinks he’ll burn the house down because of one (1) incident where Bubba accidentally started an oil fire and in a panic threw water on it. (Do not do that btw it makes the fire so much worse) But when he does cook or bake it is delicious. He enjoys trying and making new recipes too.

Nubbins does taxidermy. But he makes really weird scenes with the dead animals. He once took the ballerina off an old wind up music box he found and placed a rat in a tutu doing a pirouette on it instead and gave it to Bubba. (Bubba adores that thing and it helps him sleep at night).He likes to take random parts from animals and make his own new creatures and try to convince Bubba they’re real. (Poor guy actually fell for one once and was scared of “flying rabid raccoons” for almost a whole month) He’s also partial to photography. Although he doesn’t have much of a muse and some of the pictures are blurry.

Chop Top likes to listen to music and has tried his hand at making it (much to Drayton’s dismay but he doesn’t have any rights so that doesn’t matter). He likes Rock music but his guilty pleasure would be smooth jazz.

Thomas would enjoy sewing. He once tried making a dress for Luda Mae but it wasn’t sized properly. The sleeves were much too small and the dress itself was too big it would be a hassle to do any house work in it. Luda Mae still praised Thomas for it and she still has it even if she can’t wear it and shes very proud of him for it.

Billy Loomis just watches different movies and makes up theories around them and likes to discuss plot holes. He’s like one of those Disney fans that makes up long and elaborate theories. (no disrespect to those people i actually enjoy them) Except it’s mostly on horror or thriller movies instead.

Stu has a little artistic side in him. He can’t do photo realistic drawings but he doodles quick little things of people, objects, animals, etc. When he;s bored in class he’ll look around and doodle his classmates on his notes. Some of his teachers have had to tell him to stop drawing on assignments and tests while others look forward to seeing his little doodles. He’s dabbled in sculpture quite a bit too. He’s not the best but he likes doing it. He once made Billy a little cup that Billy still has in his room holding some pencils and pens. He prefers drawing over painting and he’s got his own unique style.

Brahms will sit and play with his toys or colour in a colouring book. He actually prefers colouring over playing with toys. It’s a quick way to get him to calm down by having him sit at the dinner table and colour in a page with crayons (he’s not allowed pencil crayons, for obvious reasons) and a cup of tea. He also likes putting things back together (which might be the reason why he breaks his toys so often). He’s good at figuring out which piece fits with another much like a puzzle (however he doesn’t like real puzzles much). That’s why he was able to put his doll back together.

Jason also likes to read. Before he drowned he was at a higher reading level than the other kids. His mom made sure to teach him from an early age. She wanted a bright and respectable son. Sometimes he’ll go raid the cabins after slaughtering all the new campers to see if any have brought books. He enjoys poems and a bit of romance. If it has a scene his mother would frown upon her boy reading, he’ll skip it. He would also enjoy bird watching and observing all the other animals that roam the area.

Freddy...to be quite honest I have no idea what Freddy would do other than enter peoples dreams. He might like metalwork considering he made that little glove of his. If he’s not murdering people he’s probably just fucking with their dreams to entertain himself.

Chucky i’m also not sure of. I would like to say he’d play videos games but at the same time it doesn’t seem very fitting. (I’ve never watched a Chucky movie so I don’t really know his personality well enough)

Tiffany however would enjoy cooking and baking, like Bubba. I think she would prefer baking a little bit more than cooking.

Other than disturbing the sorority with his calls and *ahem* doing what he does best, Billy Lenz likes making collages. Either using material from old magazines or pictures of the girls. He likes getting a little surreal and cryptic with them. He likes putting animal heads on people. If you were to look at some of them you would have no clue as to what is happening or what it means. Billy knows. But he won’t tell you.

Cujo (as one of my fellow server mates said since i’ve never seen Cujo) likes to play fetch. What dog doesn’t? He’s also very partial to tug of war too. But don’t think you’ll win. That dog can dent a car door with his head.

1990 Pennywise would sit on his ass and read the newspaper or watch a shitty little broken TV on his shitty, dirty, springs-showing, torn up, recliner and smoke. He mostly smokes cigarettes but he doesn’t mind a good cigar if he can get his hands on one. Even though he sleeps for 27 years, he’ll still take naps on said recliner. Changing his form and chasing kids is hard work for an old being like him.

2017 Pennywise however is younger than 1990 Penny and so he has more energy. Pennywise genuinely likes clowns and what they do, that’s why the clown form is his favourite. (1990 Pennywise finds it easier to attract kids and make them feel safe if he looks like a clown). So he tries to make balloon animals. He’s not very good at it and they keep popping but he’s trying his best. And yes, he does get pretty angry if he keeps messing up.

Vincent as we already know, likes to make wax sculptures. He’s tried clay before but he doesn’t like how it feels dried on his hands. He’s much more comfortable with wax. Plus, if he ever runs out of wax he can re-melt a sculpture that is old or isn’t his favourite and start anew. Once clay dries it can’t go back to clay.

Bo likes to work on cars. The older the better. He prefers trucks but cars are just as good. He can tell whats wrong with it just by turning the engine on. He’s one of the best (and only) mechanics in town.

Lester likes to collect bones, mostly skulls, from roadkill he’s found. He waits for his little pile to rot then he’ll go in looking for skulls and bones.He’s got a whole wall of shelves filled with different animal skulls and skeletons. He also tried taxidermy once. Emphasis on tried. They came out looking terrible and messed up. He still likes doing it from time to time though.

Sweeney Todd actually enjoys being a barber. He finds it relaxing cutting peoples hair and making people look and feel good. He finds shaving men’s faces really satisfying and finds it quite humorous to see a gentleman with a beard come in and leave with a smooth baby face. They tend not to look so intimidating anymore.

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masked-buffoon · 3 years

Text

Chapter 10: Truth and illusions (Part 4)

Warnings: violence, child abuse

Author notes: it is so cliche that the main character never knows how to take care of a child... The main question is... Do we like cliches...?

The boy had quickly agreed to play with me while his mother and Yosano-sensei had an "adults talk". He had led me to the living room next door and, when I had asked him what he wished to do, he had answered that he wanted to draw. After just enough time to grab paper and crayons, there he was, quietly occupying himself while I was watching, and yawning. The doctor had been wrong, Sakunosuke-kun was not an imp, not the devil in disguise. I had overheard her thoughts earlier. He was simply a kid and, even though I had no experience with them, it was not too complicated understanding their desires. I only needed to rely on my ability, after all… Which did not mean I was good with children.

"Look, look…! What do you think, Kasumi nē-san?" He excitedly shoved his doodle towards my face.

Years of acting allowed the most genuine smile of admiration to turn my lips upwards.

"It's lovely...!" I exclaimed "You're such an artist, Sakunosuke-kun!"

Immediately, a pout formed on his chubby face and he lowered it, as though he was going to cry.

"You're a liar… You don't like it…"

What had I done wrong for him to see through me…? Even the best businessman could not detect I was acting…! I was at a loss for words when tears actually started gathering in his eyes. The first sobs were about to come out from his throat, when I crouched in front of him and put my hands on his cheeks.

"Don't cry…!" I demanded, not quite knowing what I was trying to accomplish "Why would you cry…?"

"... Because you don't like the drawing…" He mumbled.

"I didn't —"

I stopped myself. My lie had been discovered, so assuring I did like his drawing would only make me sound fake. I frowned slightly.

"How old are you, Sakunosuke-kun?"

"I'm almost eleven…!" He declared, rather proudly.

"Eleven? Then you're a small adult." I stated, to boost his ego.

"Right…! Dad said so too…!"

"Then, I can talk to you like an adult." I let go of him "Sit next to me."

He obeyed, and I took his drawing from his hands.

"This is what you made."

He nodded.

"And I… Am not quite fond of it." I admitted.

Tears came back to his eyes.

"Don't." I calmly told him "Let me tell you something useful, as an adult."

"What is it…?"

"Not everyone will like you or what you do. It is very hard to understand that, but since you're a little adult, you do get my point, right?"

"Mmh… Because… Everyone has different tastes…?"

"That's exactly what it is. If you know that, then do not be sad that I don't like your drawing, for, what matters most is that you like what you do…" I smiled slightly "Do you like your own drawing?"

"Very much…!"

"Then you shouldn't cry because of me."

He agreed and, surprisingly, I found myself patting his hair. He was ten years old… Just like Ruriko-chan when I had been thrown away. I regretted not having been a better sister, sometimes…

"Do you want to play hide and seek, nē-san?" He suddenly offered.

I immediately saw an opportunity to search the house as I would be searching for him.

"Alright, Sakunosuke-kun. I'll count…! So you better hide well…!"

"You'll never find me…!" He claimed.

He had no chance to hide from me, for my ability would find him immediately. However, seriously looking for him was not my current purpose. Swiftly, I covered my eyes and started counting until one hundred.

"I'm coming…!" I warned him, playfully.

And I searched for the young boy, I explored the mansion up and down. Obviously, I had already found him; he was hidden in his room, upstairs. It amused him to think he was so good that I could not see him. At the very least, he was having fun. I discreetly checked that Yosano-sensei was still talking to the mother to venture myself in a closed room. Or, rather, it was a locked one. Nevertheless, no lock could resist me and I quickly picked it up. It was Taikin-san's office. Whatever the man was hiding, I would discover it, for the sake of protecting that boy.

As I grabbed a file, however, I wondered why I was so determined to fulfill that mission. Or, rather, I did not care much about the mission, not as much as I cared for the boy. His smile warmed a heart I believed had long been frozen by an all too cruel world, and his presence was enough for my being to feel at ease. He was appeasing. With him, I did not feel tormented by my issues; I did not care about the Armed Detective Agency, nor about Dazai, nor about me… Even my annoying ability seemed a very meaningless matter. I only wanted to preserve his innocence. It was such a simple purpose, yet it gave my mission a whole new meaning. Caring about others suddenly seemed so easy to the ever-doubting person I was.

My fingers trembled in excitement as I turned the pages of the binder, looking for any kind of clue about Sakunosuke-kun's father. According to my own research, Taikin-san was a successful businessman whose main possession was his enterprise, a very prosperous technology business. His last invention was a chip which would, in the future, replace our cellphones. The chip would be inserted in our forearm and we would access data directly from our brain. Or was it a holographic screen? I did not remember the details, but I had to admit he had futuristic ideas, although they had already been seen in works of science fiction. Even so, why would one want to hurt him? Except for his well-deserved success, he had never hurt anyone and seemed like a nice person. Every month, he would make a donation to charities and had even financed a school in Ethiopia. A quick look through his ledger did not show any kind of embezzlement either. I had no idea who could resent him, nor why. On the surface and even as the leader of an important business, that man was perfect.

"I'm so bored of waiting… Nē-san really sucks at this game…!"

I remembered the game of hide and seek with Sakunosuke-kun and hurried out of the office. As soon as I closed the door, the boy was in front of me, his big eyes full of questions as he saw me. I cracked a smile.

"There you are…! I looked for you everywhere!"

"You're so bad at finding people…!" He laughed at me.

"That's because you're too good at hiding." I poked his nose "What about trying again?"

"No!" He declined my suggestion "This time, you'll hide…!"

"Sure thing, then." I grinned "Let's see if you can find me~"

He started counting and I took the opportunity to disappear from his sight. Trying to investigate more would make me look suspicious. For the moment, I would have to focus on playing with the boy.

A random room would serve as a hideout, so, the moment he could not see me anymore, I opened the first door on my left and entered the room. It was rather large. A bed was placed against the wall on my right and, in front of me, a bay gave access to a balcony. Further, a large wardrobe seemed to contain someone's clothes. On the nightstand, a picture distracted me from the game. It was Yumiko-san, with Sakunosuke-kun. They both looked bright and happy… However, Taikin-san was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had been the one to take the picture, after all. As I put the frame down, loud gunshots made me jump in surprise and dropped it. Unfortunately, it broke on the wooden floor and, cursing my clumsiness, I crouched down to pick the glass pieces up. I most certainly would have to call a maid… And I had to hurry; that shot did not predict anything good. Where was Sakunosuke-kun…?!

A last thing caught my attention. There was a second picture, right behind the main one. My eyes widened when I finally saw it. A woman wearing a colourful kimono was holding a crying child. The look on her face was tired, but her eyes, as blue as a field of lavender in summer, shone so brightly with happiness that I hardly recognised her. She was Ogawa Eirin, my mother. And the crying child…

"My first love… May you be happy with the sun of your life."

It was me. It was my name, and the date written under the note only served to confirm it. I pursed my lips. Sadly, the only thing I remembered from that woman was how she had avoided me each time she had seen me… Taikin-san's wish had never been fulfilled…

Another wave of gunshots erupted in the mansion, bringing me back to my current mission. I had to find Sakunosuke-kun before anything could happen to him. I shoved the picture in the inner pocket of my coat, and rushed out of the room. I could not utter a sound to call him. If the enemy was in there, I would reveal my position and any attempt at surprise would be ruined. I decided to use my ability, despite how exhausted it would make me feel.

"Scared… I'm scared…!"

His thoughts led me back to the living room, where Yumiko-san had passed out, holding her shoulder in pain. Yosano-san was holding her close to her, a seesaw in her free hand, ready to defend themselves against anyone who would dare approach them.

"What happened?" I asked, nervous.

"We were attacked, suddenly…" The doctor answered me.

The glass of the former windows, shattered on the ground, proved we had indeed been targeted.

"Are you unharmed?" I inquired.

"I'm fine, save for a few scratches here and there. Yumiko-san is okay too… Her prosthetic arm saved her."

My eyes widened as I saw she was not bleeding. Instead, a kind of oil dripped from her wound. I simply nodded.

"I have to find Sakunosuke-kun. We were playing hide and seek and —"

"Ogawa… They took him…"

"What…?" My throat was suddenly dry "I thought… I… How…?"

"They came in and looked for him. When they went out, he was with them." She sighed "I'm sorry, I was on the verge of death… My ability saved me…"

"Don't apologise, sensei… This was only due to my negligence, after all…"

But then, whose thoughts had I heard…?

"Save me… I'm scared…"

The boy was still here, after all… But he was in a different place. I took a pain reliever, a useless attempt to get rid of my headache, and focused. I had made a mistake. The voice came from another floor, which meant the boy was above me. I climbed the stairs and opened the door of the targeted room. It was closed.

"Sakunosuke-kun…! It's me, Kasumi nē-san…!" I called.

"... Who…?"

I frowned and forced the door open. In a corner of the room, poorly decorated and left dusty, the boy was crouched down. However, his clothes had changed. The ones he was currently wearing were old, worn out.

"You are not Sakunosuke-kun…" I muttered slowly approaching me "Shh, don't be afraid… It's alright, I don't want to hurt you…"

"Who are you…? How do you know my brother…? And how did you find me…?"

"You have so many questions…" I smiled at him "My name is Fuyuno Kasumi, and I was hired to protect your brother and your mother… I found you because… I had an intuition. What's your name?"

"Kitaro…" He said, timidly.

"Kitaro-kun…" I repeated "Alright… Don't worry, I'll protect you too…"

Gently, I took him against me for a hug. He was sobbing against my shoulder, the poor thing… In him, I was sad to recognise my younger self…

#bsd #bsd oc #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #dazai osamu #bsd yosano #yosano akiko

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