#just bitter and tart and Hard .

[shesacarver]

this still leaves so many questions. who exactly is josh in the world of trench? sure josh is the leader of the banditos but does he have a character that we’ll get introduced to? and what about jenna? she’s shown up in the universe, who does she represent?

hello ! i dont know !!!!!!!

i think its weird that I Am Clancy completely ignores josh ? sure its about clancy ( quite obvious ) but … zero josh

the things i know abt him for a fact are:

he’s the torchbearer , and functionally the leader of the banditos !!!!! obviously helps plan and participates in infiltrations / escapes . massive symbol of hope & freedom & rebellion in tyler’s eyes

he was a citizen of dema at some point ( vessel / blurryface era ?? ) . his bishop’s never been confirmed but i personally believe it’s lisden and i Do have reasons . he’s also spooky jim but brother i have zero clue what that thing is . sorry

alsoalso he’s possibly been cloned ? ? literally zero concrete proof but im getting vibes ( i Have made a post abt this im jusg too lazy to link it here )

i genuinely cant think of a reason why he wasn’t mentioned in I Am Clancy :/

now .,,.. jenna joseph .

i do think she’s involved but very minimally , not to the extent of josh + not w/ a huge impact to the lore

generally i think she’s also supposed to represent hope . dressed in yellow & flowers , tried to kill blurryface ( insecurity ) in the TIMH mv + yellow phone during the livestream + “ wife “ listed as a Good Thing in Good Day

i think she might also have a bishop ??? i think it’s sacarver and i Do have reasons .

ultimately i think tyler threw her in there jus because he loves her and not because she serves a huge narrative purpose Maybe ??????? i could be so wrong but

#i ate the worst apple while writing this and im just sorta upset now #it was such a pretty red #expected it to be sweet #just bitter and tart and Hard . #vile experience actually #also thanks for asking me ! im sorry im clueless #twenty one pilots #twenty øne piløts #tøp #top

[eudico-my-beloved]

Haha what if i turned bombastine into a fruity cocktail. Lemon/ sour but the top is more pleasant and refreshing. Sweet even. But at the bottom its not sweet and its just very sour and bitter. Maybe a hint of salt to bring out the flavors. Bonus points if the bottom part is green and it makes a gradation with the top and served in a fancy af bottle/ cup

#luscinia as a cocktail too. links the two together #uhhh something with wine or tea maybe #idk tbh im not even of age to drink #mathila can be something roses and strawberries #its got two parts like bombastine but the top is pretty sweet but the strawberries' tartness/ fruit flavor balances it out to be consumable #but the bottom part is so overwhelmingly sweet and its a bright strong pink/ magenta color that blends into the lighter color of the top #lodun is uhhh #something spicy #a little bitter too #and a little salt to accent the flavors #and sythel #uhh #either its an ice cold cup of hard water with bits of suspicious dots floating on it (dw its just a little dried stuff. it is edible) #or its something made with a soda/ sparkling base that stings your tongue #maybe a bit of flavor too #something like uhhh #acidic #but not like bombastines sourness #different kind of sour ig #and its purple too obv #idk im as knowledgeable as a used plastic spork when it comes to drinks #just rambling like the insane little shit i am #warframe #duviri paradox

[writingwithfolklore]

Describing Foods - A Masterlist

                As a broke university student, I love reading about food. It’s almost like eating a real meal myself <3.

I get a little angry when characters are eating a meal and I barely get to experience it with them. In that, I mean I don’t just want to know what it is, but what it’s like to eat that food—how it tastes, smells, sounds, and feels. Is a perfect croissant still a perfect croissant without the crack of the exterior, the airiness of the pastry inside, the smell of yeast?

                Probably not. When writing about a dish, the smell, texture, technique, taste, and how it looks are all important to painting the experience, so here’s some words to use when describing a meal:

Taste:

Acidic: Sharp tasting. Often used to describe tart or sour foods as well.

Aftertaste: A different taste that remains in the mouth after eating something

Bitter: Tart, sharp, and sometimes harsh flavour.

Bittersweet: Less harsh than bitterness. Tartness + sweetness.

Bland: Has no significant flavor or texture

Briny: Just means salty. Often describes pickled foods.

Citrusy: Bright flavour like… well citrus fruits—oranges, lemons, limes, etc.

Cooling: Mimics that cooling feel—like mint.

Earthy: Reminiscent of soil. Can be used to describe wines, root vegetables, and mushrooms.

Fiery: Another word for spicy.

Fresh: Light and crisp—describes produce or herbs.

Fruity: Sweet and reminiscent of fruit.

Full-bodied: Rich and ‘feels heavy’ in your mouth. Can describe wines or soups.

Herbal: Bright, fresh, sometimes earthy from the presence of herbs

Honeyed: Sweet or candied taste like honey.

Nutty: Taste similar to the flavors of nuts. Often used to describe certain cheeses.

Rich: Full, heavy flavour. Often dishes that contain cream taste rich.

Robust: Rich + Earthy. Used for lots of wines or aged liquor.

Savory: Describes meaty, earthy dishes and soups.

Sharp: Harsh, bitter, or tart taste. Used to describe acidic foods.

Smoky: Reminiscent of the smell of smoke.

Sour: Biting, tangy, tart flavor.

Spicy: Burning taste.

Sweet: Sugary.

Tangy: Tart, biting taste—feels tingly

Tart: Sharp, bitter, or sour flavour. Used to describe acidic foods.

Woody: Earthy, sometimes nutty taste. Describes some coffees or cheeses.

Yeasty: Earthy taste reminiscent of yeast. Describes beer and bread.

Zesty: Fresh, vivid, or invigorating flavour.

Sound/Texture:

Sound has a lot to do with texture, so I've combined them for this section!

Airy: Light, pillowy texture (think inside of croissant)

Brittle: Hard but easy to break

Bubbly: Usually during heating, when bubbles rise to the surface—low sound.

Buttery: Smooth, creamy texture (think certain pasta sauces)

Chewy: Food that needs to be chewed thoroughly. Can be light and bouncy (chewy bread) or heavy (steak) and sticky (candy)

Creamy: A smooth and rich texture, comes from dairy.

Crispy: Light texture with slight crunch.

Crumbly: Food with loose structure that falls apart into crumbs.

Crunchy: Firm, crisp texture with a sharp, loud noise.

Crusty (behave): Food with a hard outer layer and soft interior (many loaves and breads)

Delicate: Light and fine, feels like it can come apart easily.

Doughy: Soft and heavy, usually pale colouring.

Fizzy: Usually liquids—a hissing sound, feels like ‘static’

Flaky: Light, characterized by layers that come apart during eating.

Fluffy: light and airy.

Frothy/Foamy: Airy bubbles, usually in a drink like a latte.

Gamey: Usually refers to meats when they’re very “meaty”

Gooey: Viscous, sometimes sticky texture from moisture in a dense/solid food.

Hearty: Firm, robust texture.

Juicy: Tender and succulent texture from liquid in a solid food (steak)

Molten: Hot, gooey

Oily: Slick, heavy, lingers on the tongue.

Silky: Fine, smooth texture that feels sleek.

Smooth: Texture free of grit, lumps, or edges.

Snap: A quick, sharp, crackling sound when broken.

Squelch: A soft sucking sound when pressure is applied. Somewhat gross.

Sticky: Gluiness in the mouth.

Succulent: Tender and juicy

Tender: Soft and easy to break down

Velvety: Smooth and rich

Smell:

Acrid: Strong, bitter, unpleasant

Comforting: pleasant, probably calls back to a nice memory

Damp: Wet smelling—probably a bit earthy

Delicate: subtle, faint, not overpowering

Earthy: reminiscent of soil

Fetid: Caused by decay—unpleasant

Fishy: reminiscent of fish

Floral/flowery: Reminiscent of flowers

Fragrant: Sweet or pleasing

Fresh: Cool, crisp, refreshing—produce, probably not cooked

Funky: Something’s gone off

Heady: Strong smell, pungent, rich

Musty: Not fresh

Perfumed: Pleasant, reminiscent of something (can be perfumed with citrus, say)

Piquant: stinging, pungent—tickles the nose

Powerful: strong

Rancid: Definitely gone off, decomposing

Ripe: Strong, usually unpleasant smell

Savory: spicy, salty, no elements of sweetness

Sour: has gone off

Spicy: Sharp, tingles the nose

Tangy: Strong and bitter but in a good way

Tart: Sharp

Woody: earthy smell, reminiscent of wood

Sight:

Usually texture gives us a really good picture of what a food looks like, so here’s some non-texture sight additions:

Blistered: Bumpy exterior.

Caramelized: Usually golden brown

Cloudy: Splotched. Almost see through if not for a slight white or grey mist.

Colourful: Bright and vibrant

Glassy: Resembling glass

Glossy: Smooth, shiny

Marbled: Two colours intertwined

Opaque: Not transparent. Can’t see through.

Ripe: Colourful (can be to a fault). Nearing the end of its edible state.

Scaly: Covered in scales, fish.

Shiny: Appears wet or glossy

Sparkling: Glimmers under the light

Stuffed: An ingredient placed inside a larger part with no additional space.

Translucent: Allows light through

Vibrant: Striking, bright

Food Prep:

How the food is prepared gives it these other attributes. If your character is familiar with cooking (or is the cook themselves!) they may describe food this way.

Baked: Cooked in an oven. Results in browned or crispy outer layer.

Blackened: When food is dipped in butter and coated with spices then cooked in a hot pan—spices darken, making it appear ‘blackened’

Blanched: Food scalded in boiling water and moved to cold water so it stops cooking. Texture comes out soft.

Braised: Food that is briefly fried in fat and then stewed in a pot. Results in seared, crispy exterior with a tender interior.

Breaded: Coated with breadcrumbs/batter then baked or fried so it turns crispy

Broiled: Food cooked with intense radiant heat in an oven or on the grill. Results in a darkened appearance and crispy texture.

Caramelized: Food slow-cooked until it’s browned, nutty, and has a bit of sweetness.

Charred: Grilled, roasted, or broiled and gains a blackened exterior and smoky flavor.

Fermented: Food that’s sat with bacteria, yeast, or another microorganism and has produced acids, alcohols, or gases. Results in a biting, pungent flavor. (Kimchi is fermented)

Fried: Food cooked by submerging in hot oil. Creates crispy, crunchy texture and golden colour.

Glazed: Food with a coating brushed onto its surface. Appears glossy with a thin, flavorful, and crisp outer layer.

Infused: Food steeped in liquid with another ingredient so it carries the essence of that ingredient. Used with herbs usually.

Marinated: Usually meat soaked in liquid containing flavourful herbs, spices, vinegar, or oil.

Poached: Food cooked in near boiling water. Results in tender, moist texture.

Roasted: Food cooked with dry heat in an oven or over the fire. Results in browned exterior and crisp coating.

Sautéed: Food cooked quickly in small amount of fat.

Seared: Food cooked in small amount of fat until caramelized. Finished by roasting or grilling. Results in crisp exterior and tender interior.

Smoked: Food exposed to smoke from smoldering wood for a long time. Results in that distinctive smoky flavor.

Whipped: Food beaten to incorporate air. Light and fluffy.

What did I miss?

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #filmmaking #books #film #writing advice #writing about food #food descriptions #descriptive writing #masterlist #Describing foods - a masterlist

[ddarker-dreams]

Would hwr reader be the cool wine aunt? (I can see her accidentally getting drunk off wine thinking it was grape juice or non alcoholic, then chrollo having to supervise her the whole night lol)

anon ... are you a secret telepath because i've considered so many variations of this exact scenario.

for some context on HWR reader's abysmal alcohol tolerance — certain bloodlines from her home country hailed from the dark continent. they could temporarily boost their abilities, whether it be the five senses, strength, or speed, at the cost of enduring excruciating pain once the burst ends. a peculiar side effect owing to this constitution is that those who possess it are extremely sensitive to psychoactive substances. so, understandably, she takes great care in avoiding anything that could land her in a precarious position.

the common language in hxh isn't her native tongue, so if a word or term is obscure enough, all bets are off. for instance, in the earlier days when she just joined the troupe, paku once offered her a nightcap. HWR reader accepted. imagine her confusion when she was presented with a drink. it didn't look like any hat she'd seen before. the troupe greatly perplexed her at first.

the scenario you proposed has definitely happened before. here's the basic rundown:

her and chrollo were staking out an event under the pretense of being guests. a wandering waiter offered her a drink from his tray. it wasn't held in a champagne chute, martini glass, or the like, there was no indication to the beverage's true nature. she inquired over the ingredients. the waiter listed off what made up the concoction. the name of the hard liquor went over her head, it was the lovechild of a recent startup the event's owner had invested in to 'diversify his investment portfolio.'

it lacked the bitter tang commonly associated with alcohol. it was slightly sweet with a tarte aftertaste.

whilst sipping away and fraternizing with the other attendees, chrollo reappeared. he'd been piecing together a mental blueprint of the estate for later use. he easily integrated back into the social scene, almost as if he'd never left in the first place. before he'd even reentered the grand reception area, he'd caught onto a fluctuation in HWR reader's impeccable aura. while not an outright cause for alarm, he found it odd.

(some not SFW beneath the cut)

although he hid it well, he was genuinely surprised to see his normally abstinent lover indulging herself. she was critiquing the research of two gentlemen who had been not so subtly flaunting their game-changing findings the entire evening. the men appeared scandalized as she pointed out inconsistencies in their data and the like. he swooped in only when it became evident the men were about to raise a fuss, smoothly excusing him and his increasingly irate date.

he could roughly guess how this predicament came to be. he explained to her in a low and steady voice that this drink actually has a high alcohol concentration. it took a moment for her impaired cognition to catch up with his words. when the realization hit, however, she was not enthused.

by the time they'd made it back to their 'borrowed' vehicle, her legs were unsteady. there was a thin glaze over her eyes, like she was only half-present. on the drive back to the hotel, she'd randomly continue her earlier critique in an incomprehensive murmur. he never knew poorly falsified data was such an unforgivable slight in her eyes.

chrollo was growing increasingly intrigued by this unfiltered version of his otherwise prim and proper girlfriend. did he feel bad that she ended up in this position? kinda, but he wouldn't let anything happen to her. or, to be more precise, let anything happen to the civilians in the immediate area. not out of compassion, mind you, but for convenience's sake. he's trying to maintain a low profile in this area until the heist's completion. a dangerous, sword-wielding woman capable of wiping out an entire town's population should she see fit would be counteractive to this goal.

he dutifully keeps an eye on her in their suite. she vacillates between forgetting he's there or eagerly engaging him in a wide array of topics. everything from the separation of church and state to 'if he really likes her.' at this point, she'd shrugged off her outer garments (with his assistance), the heat of inebriation unbearable. chrollo had been exercising every modicum of self-control in his body as she crawled into his lap, perching herself there like it was her throne. her fingers, free from her usual gloves, brushing along the various grooves of his face.

"pretty," she hums. her blissed out expression, breathy voice, and the pressure of her body against his crotch makes him strain to behave himself. "my pretty boy."

he's grateful that she isn't lucid enough to note the rosy blush that spreads over his cheeks at this unexpected praise.

in a languid motion, her arms wrap around his neck. she embraces him tight enough that he can feel the soft swell of her chest, threatening to spill out from its restraints. she plays with the ends of his hair, humming a melody unknown to him, perfectly content. he allows himself some indulgence — his hands settle on either side of her hips. to help steady her, he tells himself. for such a proficient liar, this excuse is admittedly pathetic.

"boss."

"hm?"

"i have a secret," she whispers. this piques his curiosity, overriding his previous sentiments to respect her privacy. selfishly, he hopes she doesn't remember this come morning. otherwise, he'll be in for an earful...

"oh?" he goads her on. "and what would that be?"

(goodbye plausible deniability).

her lips brush against his outer ear and he shivers.

"i've fallen in love with someone."

his breath hitches in his throat. he ceases his previous ministrations of rubbing circles into her skin. despite enjoying three years of sex, heists, and frequent companionship, those infamous three words have yet to be uttered. they've made it evident that they're exclusive, but that's about it. neither of them have delved into the nitty and gritty of whatever their relationship truly means.

momentarily, he forgets how to weave elaborate webs that ensnare his victims right where he wants them. all eloquence and posturing melts away. what little of him that leaves remaining utters his next two words, not the persona whose charisma could rival a manipulator's hatsu.

"with who?"

the raw, guttural urgency he speaks this inquiry with is foreign to his ears. he wonders what he'd do should she profess devotion for another. would he have what it takes to respect her choice? it's a silly question; of course he wouldn't, not past a chilling smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

alas, this hypothetical is put to rest. its his name that she speaks. the accent she tries suppressing sneaks out, curling around each slowly enunciated syllable. after what feels like an eternity, he relaxes, sinking back into the plush couch.

"don't tell him," there's a threatening edge to her voice.

chuckling softly, he hugs her tighter.

"i won't."

#chrollo x reader #not sfw #hell within reach #this ended up getting longer than i expected GJSKDFL #answered #Anonymous

[wishluc]

hello miss asa! i was hoping you would consider my request: lilia taking care of a sick darling? i'm feeling very under the weather right now, and i'm just aching for lila to nurse me back to health <3 (i adore how you write him, so delightfully evil <3)

Awe anon :( wishing for your speedy recovery!

✧ CW: yandere character,

"Oh my," Lilia's cold hand brushes away some hair that had fallen over your forehead, "you're burning up," The way he says your name, oddly apathetic despite your state and the slight twitch of his lips makes you frown and sink down further into your bed.

Maybe he should try harder to appear concerned—not that he wasn't; there was genuine worry laced in his words—but the bitter taste of betrayal is still fresh in his mouth, and the displeasure that shuddered through him when he found you standing painfully close to your friend hasn't left him completely. Besides, he glances over to your figure, collapsed onto your sheets, you're clearly not in any state to be thinking too deeply about the off-putting smile and the hardness in his gaze.

Your reply is an incomprehensible garble, but by the tone of your voice, Lilia can already tell that you were protesting his aid, insisting he go back to his dorm. It was just like you to do that, even though it was clear from the tissues littering the floor and the circles under your eyes that you were hardly able to get by without him. Besides, your condition wouldn't ease up for a few more days, and this would serve as the perfect opportunity to spend some time together—something he wasn't able to do with you for a while already.

"Now, now," his airy laugh fills the room, and his hand goes to gently pinch at your cheek, "how could I leave you alone in this state? You forget that I've done this countless times before. I promise it's no bother."

He smiles at you again, light and easy, reminding you that despite the cracks in his exterior, he was still your ever-caring senior. His fingers caress your sweltering cheek before he makes his way around your room, cleaning up as he goes. Lilia talks to you, ignoring your dazed state, about his meeting with the music club, and how SIlver had fallen asleep mid-potion again. He doesn't mention Jamil, whose cooking you were complimenting the other day, jealousy still coiled around his heart. He rapidly flits around your room, flipping through your books and papers, staring uncomfortably long at the tart Trey had left you earlier before swiftly tossing it into the bin with all your other trash—even if you wanted to eat it, you couldn't have protested in your current state—and picked up your haphazardly thrown coat with a soft chuckle. Even your messes were endearing.

"I don't know how this happened" you mutter, cradling a cup of water in your hands, "I just woke up sick."

"Humans are so sickly," Lilia sighs, "Silver fell ill quite often too. But something about your demeanor tells me there's more to it than a simple illness. Almost like..."

He waits for you to take the bait, though he's tempted to just lean over and caress your cheek and whisper in your ear about how it had been quite some time since he last used this curse and how he carefully ensured that it shouldn't drain you off all your energy and leave you a corpse, but you wouldn't take well to that, even in your current state. Instead, he stays exactly where he is.

"What else...?"

Red eyes stare at you, void of any emotion. Lilia's mouth is set in a stern line, not allowing for an inch of familiarity, and slowly, he cocks his head to the side, his gaze narrowing and eyes gleaming. Your face looks almost as delightful as it did when he had you trapped during Beanfest, taking in shallow breaths and watching him warily. How cute; you were so utterly, helpless.

"It must be a curse," Lilia finally declares, pulling away so quickly that it shocks you, "there's no other explanation for your awful state. I wonder who you've upset so to get such a nasty little thing latched onto you..."

"A curse?"

"Mmm," he shakes his head, feigning concern, "I do believe it was that Pomefiore student you were studying with. They're quite good with their curses, aren't they?"

He expects to hear some words of defense, but to his surprise, you're uncharacteristically silent. He wonders if his earlier ministrations scared you after all.

You don't meet his eyes, "Can you remove it?"

Lilia takes a moment to really look at you; weariness set in so deep that you look depleted of any life, voice listless and distant and eyes drawn to the ground. At this rate, you'd hardly be able to get up and get yourself some water.

"Removing it is a simple matter," Lilia reassures you, "but you probably won't be able to take the stress of it. I think you should rest for a little while first. Don't worry," a small spell to put you to sleep is on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be said, but his soft smile gives nothing away, "I'll be right here when you wake up."

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

#[You know I've caught up with Chapter 7 and now I have soooo many ideas about Lilia] #[Ahahaha...the world is not prepared] #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst x you #twst x reader #cw yandere #yandere x reader #drabble. 🌀 #asa.writes 🌀 #twst. 🌀 #lilia. 🌀 #mail. 🌀 #anon mail. 🌀 #drabble request v01. 🌀 #requested work. 🌀

[katzkinder]

Servamp headcanons, ice cream edition! Because my grandma got an ice cream maker and we’re all super eager to try it out but then she broke her back (she’s fine, don’t worry)

Mahiru: plain old vanilla. Misono introduced him to vanilla BEAN ice cream though and he’s feeling a little guilty about wanting to splurge a bit for the more expensive, creamier stuff… Kuro is an enabler and his encouragement is the only reason he’s still managing to resist. Just do it Mahi!

Kuro: Cookies and Cream is his favorite, but he’s also partial to cookie dough, or crumbled chocolate mint cookies as topping. He likes both the taste and the texture

Misono: chocolate lol. He’s predictable. His absolute favorite though are those ultra decadent brownie batter type of chocolate ice creams. Yknow the ones. Chocolate pieces, brownie bits, hot fudge swirl… He gets sick off the stuff easily though, so even though he loves it, self control is everything

Lily: vanilla bean with strawberry topping and cheese cake bites! He loves fresh strawberries in his desserts, and often he and Misono will trade bites if they’re getting flavor fatigue. Also very rich but the strawberry helps cuts through the sweetness

Tetsu: a Basic Boi who loves GariGariKun the most. Prefers popsicles over dairy treats. Yeah technically this isn’t ice cream but like. It’s the taste of summer and after bath refreshments. I’m not taking that from him

Hugh: vanilla with hot fudge sauce (and/or blood). He still prefers his chocolate parfaits, or better yet for this scenario, a milkshake

Licht: yknow those ultra sweet cotton candy flavors? If it’s ice cream by itself, he loves that. But if it’s a float, it’s gotta be vanilla in melon soda. If you take him to marble slab or similar place that lets you mix in a bunch of toppings, he will make a beeline for the gummy bears. Gets disappointed every time that they turn hard and unpleasant to eat, even though he already knows the outcome

Lawless: he has two favorites. Coffee bean (distinct from just plain coffee flavor) and moose tracks. I’m not sure what that’s called in other places? Basically it’s vanilla with peanut butter cups and fudge. Only goes for this when he’s depressed, if I’m honest. Otherwise it’s too sweet.

Mikuni: haagen daz amaretto almond crunch and their hojicha latte flavor. Forever sad that the former was limited edition and doesn’t make seasonal returns. It was absolutely perfect for his and jeje’s terrible Netflix movie nights (with the occasional appearance by johannes so they could make fun of the bad science together)

Jeje: since Mikuni only buys haagen daz (spoiled pretentious shit) he’s grateful they a rich pumpkin flavor that becomes available during autumn. He also really likes horchata milkshakes for the comforting taste of cinnamon.

Iduna: Tried butter pecan once and was hooked. The crunchiness of the pecans is her favorite part. It’s her go to for when Haagen Daz Creamy Vanilla Pudding flavor isn’t in season. Back home, though, it’s got to be the rather… Unique. Salty licorice flavor. She gave some to shuuhei one time just to watch him gag. She knows what she’s doing to that poor boy.

Freya: the simple freshness of strawberry ice cream is her guilty pleasure. She been thinking of making her own with an old hand churner. It would be fun, right? And it’s not like it would be difficult to get the ingredients she needs.

Nicco: Pistachio gelato, though he also enjoys the tartness and slight bitter aftertaste of limoncello flavor. He likes taking Ildio with him whenever there’s a new flavor he wants to try but isn’t sure he’ll like. Even if he doesn’t care for it, his servamp probably will. Does that make him mean?

Ildio: No preference as of yet. He’s still figuring this whole… Tasting your food thing out

Tsubaki: as expected, he loves matcha and red bean flavors. REALLY excited some of the Hagen daz hanamochi series is becoming a permanent flavor

Sakuya: rocky road. Sweet, crunchy, and a little bitter on the back end from the chocolate. Refuses to admit it but he also enjoys the hanamochi series. He’s stubborn. Whenever he wins a free popsicle he gives the stick to Mahiru, so inevitably when they hang out, that’s what he buys if they stop at the konbini, just for the chance to maybe earn some good boy points with his best friend and crush. And he thinks he’s subtle—

Reblog with your own headcanons! I love seeing what people add to my posts :3

#servamp #oh boy here we go #mahiru shirota #servamp Kuro #tetsu sendagaya #hugh the dark algernon iii #(silver) #mikuni alicein #servamp jeje #iduna nobel #servamp Freya #licht jekylland todoroki #servamp lawless #niccolo carpediem #servamp ildio #misono alicein #snow lily #servamp tsubaki #sakuya watanuki #kat’s katerwauling #pufff look look look

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Sudden Soulmates (Riddle)

One of your eyes is the color of your soulmate’s eyes.

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

Sudden Soulmates Masterlist

⚠️ WARNING: Light angst, Riddle's mom

— (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

His mother had been pleased when none of the nurses could find a soulmark on Riddle’s skin. Mother thinks that soulmates are inconvenient for those looking for a good, stable life. Mother had rejected her soulmate as soon as she entered highschool, and is said to have smiled the brightest in her life when the mark faded completely.

So, of course, Riddle grew up thinking soulmates are just useless drawbacks to a good life.

Part of him, though, a part he tries so hard to not entertain, longs for a soulmark ever since he saw Trey’s.

It had been easy to do so after his mother prohibited Trey from seeing him, but it became harder to ignore once he entered Night Raven College only to see Trey and Cater happily sharing a package of bitter candy, soulmarks and smiles matching. His friends had no idea of his conflict, and he didn’t have the heart to take their happiness from them by demanding they stop loving each other in front of him.

So he has very mixed feelings when Trey pulls him aside after the Orientation Ceremony and brings him to the closest reflective surface so Riddle can see his now mismatched eyes. Fire rises up in his chest and ice falls down in his spine. The soulmark is not hard to find, all it takes is to move the shirt’s collar a bit and he manages to see a part of it on his collarbone—he has no idea how he just knew it would be there. He’s extremely thankful to Trey and Cater, who ground him through his—panic attack? Breakdown? He’s not sure, but his knees buckle and his lungs ache.

The next day, he acts like nothing happened, and his friends do the same. He ignores the curious looks of his peers, specially the more observant ones like Azul and Vil.

Riddle’s soulmate is an existence that has no space in his already planned life.

Though he can’t bring himself to deny them, to think of them as wrong.

Even as he confronts her when she sides with Trappola and Spade.

“How many of those rules are there?!”

“There are 810 rules in all, and as the Housewarden, I can of course recite each and every one of them.”

Thankfully, no one notices the slight waver of his voice. Riddle would hate to give an exaggerated reaction to the grey eye that stares back at him. To think his soulmate, on top of being late, is also a delinquent. He can’t believe it, the disappointment echoing in his mind has the same timber as his mother’s voice.

Still doesn’t feel wrong.

“Destroy the offending tart immediately! Then throw these rulebreakers out of the dorm!” he orders, glaring at the first years who still dare to stand there.

Soulmate or not, she is wrong and needs to be punished the same.

“What?! That’s so unfair! And wasteful!” she’s the one to complain first, and he almost flinches with the anger burning in her heterochromatic eyes. “At least give the tart back! Did your mother not teach you to not waste food!”

“Keep my mother out of your rulebreaker mouth!”

“Stop being an unreasonable baby and give the tart back!”

“The rules–!”

“Wasting food cannot be a rule, I refuse to believe that!”

Riddle clicks his tongue, feeling his anger bubble under his skin. As much as he hates to admit it, there is no rule in favor of wasting food. In fact, Rule 382 says: “Food given is to be consumed, so long it doesn’t break other rules”, no mention of what must be done if the food gifted breaks other rules. If he gives back the tart and they leave the unbirthday party, they are allowed to eat it.

“... very well, take it back.”

“Oh, so you can see reason, huh?” the girl snarks, taking the tart from his hands. “Thank  you for being so gracious, Housewarden.”

With a last disdainful glare, she turns around and stomps her way out, calling to Deuce and Ace and her cat-beast, not without hitting shoulders with Trey and Cater on the way. An unpleasant silence fills the garden, and Riddle takes a deep breath to calm his raging heart. With the miscreants gone, they can go on with the unbirthday party without problem. That pleasant thought brings a smile to his face and he turns to the rest of Heartslabyul with joy.

“Now that the issue was dealt with, let us continue–”

A sudden cough interrupts his speech. Riddle has never coughed like this, not even when he got terribly sick as a child. There’s something insistently trying to rise from his lungs, something that tickles his insides and makes the coughing into a heaving. Only when he finally spits the thing out that he can breathe normally again, and amidst cleaning the drool off his face and taking greedy gulps of air, he examines whatever his body just expelled.

His heart stops when he understands it is a clump of rose petals.

The soulmark on his collarbone burns.

“Riddle…”

“... grab me a napkin, Trey.”

“Riddle.”

“Grab me a napkin, Clover.”

Not talking about what happened in the unbirthday party becomes an unspoken rule. Riddle does not see either of his troublesome card soldiers or his soulmate until Ace requests a duel for the Housewarden position and Headmage Crowley approves of it. Riddle entertains their shenanigans, not surprised when he wins the duel with disappointingly minimal effort; he had intended to fight at full capacity. He may not be the strongest in school, but he certainly is on the rankings, and he knows Ace will know if he doesn’t give it his all. Riddle is not one to be unfair, afterall.

What happens after the duel is what disturbs him.

To think things would escalate to the point of him overblotting.

And to think his overblot would hurt both him and his soulmate.

Riddle had tried to avoid thinking about her during the entire duel, and his overblot mind could not care less about her, until the soulmark—a joker card, the jester grinning mockingly as they change the game and make fools of kings and kings of fools—burns his skin, and burns hers with it. What happens next is a battle both between the others and him, and him and him. The Queen of Hearts falls in the face of the Joker, whose bow is forgotten in favor of a warm hug and relieved tears.

“... and… I really like you,” Riddle blurts out secret after secret, the ones that go against the Queen’s Rules and the ones that go against Mother’s Rules, not caring that he has an audience. Maybe even enjoying that he has an audience, people who will actually listen. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you, and I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“Shhh… it’s ok, Riddle,” she rubs his back as he hides in her neck, “you’re forgiven. I’m sorry too, for hurting you. Not for breaking the rules, though.”

Riddle laughs weakly at that. He doesn’t want to let go, but does anyway when Trey and Cater offer to take the two to the infirmary. They get a proper scolding from the nurse and the Headmage, then another from their friends—his and hers, theirs… though Ace is on thin ice—, who end their speeches with congratulatory words and teasing jabs that neither of them answer gracefully.

Riddle has a lot to think about now. How (Y/N) will impact his plans for the future. How his change and growth will impact his plans for the future. How both will impact his relationship with Mother. How he will live his life from now on, and how he’ll make it be his life, lived by him within his own choices.

But for now he’s content on breaking the rules and slipping on his soulmate’s bed, not caring about the scolding they’ll get from the nurse next time they wake up.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #x fem reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #sudden soulmates #am I feeding y'all or what?

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Trey Clover Bloom Birthday Voice Lines

When Summoned: It's my birthday, huh. I'll do my best to mature inside as well as out this year.

Summon Line: I wear hats often, but this sort of design is pretty new to me. It's not really suited for everyday wear, but that's what makes it feel special.

Groooovy!!: It's great that the weather's good for my birthday. This way, I can fly safely without worrying about any blowing wind.

Home: Alright, what kind of magic do you want to see?

Home Idle 1: There's always a few guys who ask me to bake them a cake as thanks for giving me a present. Good grief, they've all got some cheek.

Home Idle 2: When I was a kid, I apparently asked my parents to make me taller for my birthday. It was probably because I was frustrated at not being able to reach the cooktop.

Home Idle 3: So, what did Riddle give me...? Oh, a personal organizer. The red leather cover is pretty stylish. I'll definitely use this.

Home Idle - Login: I've gotten so many birthday wishes that it's hard to keep track of... It's not something I would have ever experienced if I had never come to this school.

Home Idle - Groovy: I'm thinking it might be nice to get Ruggie to help bake some sweets sometime. Might be a bit difficult to negotiate pay, though.

Home Tap 1: As I was carrying all the presents I got from everyone back to the dorm, Malleus appeared to help me out. It definitely gave everyone else a shock.

Home Tap 2: Woah, this glasses cleaning wipe that Deuce gave me can defog the lens, and even disinfect it. This'll definitely be useful.

Home Tap 3: At first I thought decorating a broom with flowers like this would be too much, but... It's actually not that bad. Maybe that's because the colors are pretty subdued?

Home Tap 4: The sweets that the guys in my club gave me sparkled and sure were pretty. Maybe I'll try my hand at them sometime.

Home Tap 5: [coughs] This tea's so bitter...! Hey, sorry, can you bring me something sweet to help wash it down?

Home Tap - Groovy: You seem so happy when you're wishing me a happy birthday. But I feel like because of that, you make this day even more special than it already is. Thanks.

Duo: [TREY]: Ruggie, did you come here for a free meal? [RUGGIE]: Also to celebrate you too, Trey-san!

Birthday Login Message: Hm? Do I like strawberry or chocolate tarts better? Hm, I think I like both. Are you thinking of making one for somebody? Oh, then let me help you. ...Hahah, don't look so panicked. I'm just kidding. It'd be bad if I helped you on today of all days, right? Well then, I can't wait to see your finished tart. You can give me your birthday wishes after it's done.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #trey clover #ruggie bucchi #twst trey #twst ruggie #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: riddle #mention: malleus #mention: deuce

[theloveinc]

barbarian!bakugo + buying apples. you’ll notice I didn’t put any work into this making it more … fantasy-like. And that’s bc… I still couldn’t figure out how😞

(warning: misogyny, you are described as a maiden / dress wearing, you have a pa, world building sucks, bakugo … doesn’t talk)

-

Being the only maiden on one of barbarian!Bakugo’s cross country journeys. I’m not sure yet how or why you’re there, but I’d say he’s traveling and one of his fellow clansmen took you as a prize, or maybe you just hitched a ride on their cart yourself.

But they stop in a small village one day, parking their horses at the edge of a town square of cobblestone and brick, merchant booths surrounding the small shops: of butchers and farmers and fishermen and traders, all rowdy and beaming as they show off their wares.

The men split up (the one with green hair in a leather vest declaring he needs a blacksmith, the lanky one with dark bangs in the direction of new snare wire), though the bulky blonde one (the one in thick furs and pelts who’s never really spoken to you) stays around, picking at the shiny, pink apples of a booth quite close to where the cart you sit on in boredom is parked.

“Five gold for a sack, sir” the man behind the creaky, wooden stand says. He’s stout, thin-haired and wrinkly, all his years in the sun selling fruit showing proudly on his tanned skin. He gestures to the wide array of fruits, each like a piece of candy he wants to show off.

Bakugo (you think his name his, or rather, that’s how he was introduced to you by the redhead with unnaturally sharp teeth, biggest of the group) glances up, frown thin and tense and blood red eyes narrowed. His shoulders shift, the muscles of his exposed stomach rippling as he breathes, the smooth skin of his forehead pinching as if he’s calculating a sale just as he would any other battle or raid.

The sign next to both the men clearly states that apples are two gold a sack. Pears are three, plums are one. “But I’ll give you a deal for four gold,” the man continues.

The blonde ponders, inspecting the apples diligently as if they could be poison, or a waste of a trade. His eyes narrow slightly, lips pursing, and you realize, in his reaching for coin, the intuition he so usually takes pride in (saving the men once from a brutal hound attack, and you, too, another time when a swamp dweller caught the hem of your trousers) is not there… and that they don’t use the same alphabet. Maybe he can’t even… read.

“For two gold,” you call.

Both parties look to you. One set of eyes in an suspicious glare, the other in a tart and angry bitterness. The merchant’s leathery face sinks into a melted frown, his fists clenching as your own hand shields your eyes from the bright sun and hides a protective squint.

“Didn’t your pa ever tell you not to meddle in grown men’s business?” he half-shouts back, the laugh in his voice now tangled with a snarl, downright and plain rude.

“The sign says two,” swinging off your seat, you smooth down your simple frock as you point to the wooden board stained with charcoal that’s hung up next to him. “One sack of apples for two gold.”

Bakugo’s eyebrows raise for the briefest of seconds, then fall in another glare as his hand drops from where he holds his coin (in small, canvas bag tied to his belt with thin, leather cord. It sags against his hip, his pants dipping and uncovering a v-line that descends further into a region you’ve only seen once; at a bathing river in the hills, the bare curve and marks of your own hips exposed—)

“Don’t know where you picked up letters, missy,” the merchant scoffs. “Reading is men’s work.”

You approach the barbarian’s side, his head (messy with hair) tilted towards you as he watches on in silence. From the pocket of your dress, you take out two gold of your own and flick them on the table before you.

“My pa taught me how.”

Then you take Bakugo’s hand (thick and rough and hard to hold) in one of yours and march right back to the horses and cart. Bag of sweet, pink apples in the other.

#bakugou x reader #Bakugo #I am so lazy #I just wanted to post this lmfao sorry if it’s sucks #will fix any mistakes soon! #I’ve just been caught up in this weird fantasy of like…. being captured by some barbarians and surprising them with your sophistication #and saving them from some weird sh*t #I think it would surprise Barbarry Bakugo if u like . could read and he couldn’t #but this is like. a bad representation of that LOL #idk why I’m having so much trouble with the fantasy set up #gusss well just have to deal #dunno .. I have no concept of anything #anyway this was kind of a shout out to my own dad #whos an alc*holic n*mbskull hillbilly b*astard dropout but wanted me to be educated and cultured more than anything growing up #so weird #i must be so tired to be telling u all this… or it’s the lexapro #either way ENJOY SORRY #I miss and love u all #caitie post #gen

[villainessxassassin]

How sweet

child!Riddle x child!reader

yes lets forget how dead this account was until now💀 Half way through writing I forgot I was writing for child!Riddle but everything works out in the end yeyyy -K.

✧|: Riddle being salty cuz he doesn't want a babysitter tutor at home so he's really mean to you at first but then you start doing all these really nice things that makes Riddle want to cry in a good way and now he doesn't know what to do.

༶•┈This will be part one (1/2?)

When Riddle thought all was lost, that he could never get to taste a sweet strawberry tart nor play outside with his friends ever again, his mother hires a... tutor? and you're the same age as him? like he's supposed to care, if anything he's even more displeased!

After the recent incident, young Riddle really couldn't think his life could get any more restricting than it already is. He can't play, he has to watch what he eats, he has to keep up with his academics, and now his mother's hiring a tutor to keep him company when she's not around?

"Do I really need this...?" It's been a few days since then, yet Riddle still couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes, not after what he did. He didn't want to anger her any further. "You certainly have a long way to go until you can gain my trust back, and what better way to show me, than with this." She gestured to you at her side, posture straight with a slight smile on your face.

The young boy has heard of you prior before your arrival from his mother. You as well have been placed in the same position as Riddle, yet unlike him, you didn't seem to dislike the idea of having to work twice as hard for both him and yourself. If anything, you looked very much delighted to be here.

With a small bow you then began to introduce yourself, but all Riddle was able to focus on with your voice fading out was the slight ringing in his ears that grew louder by time.

"Now, do try to get along."

.

A week has gone by. A week of you constantly pestering Riddle to work twice as hard. A week of extra papers piled up on his desk. A week of the very thread of his patience finally on the brink of snapping, or in short,

it was a week of pure torture.

Again, Riddle really didn't understand why you were needed here. He was doing just fine by himself, save for what happened and for the very reason WHY you are present here in the first place but he's changed! He's already been enduring this far without complaining, so surely that was enough proof he no longer had any ulterior motives in changing his daily routine his mother has given, right?

"You should've completed these papers by now."

And again, your annoying voice cuts of his train of thought. "You shouldn't be slacking, I've been given strict instructions to make sure you finish these on time", you say while taking the paper Riddle just finished and replacing it with another.

"I'm not some immature child, you don't have to tell me every time, my oh so annoying Tutor, and for one, I dont need a babysitter either." Despite the initial fear of his mother finding out he's been speaking to you in this disrespectful manner, (unbeffiting of the rosehearts name) this is the relationship you've made from the one week spent here together, and besides, you're both the same age! 'Formalities shouldn't be taken that seriously', Is what you said, but Riddle already had no intentions of refering to you in any high regard (because of his newfound bitterness with a hint of saltyness for those around him).

"Hey! I already told you to think of me more as your study buddy! I have my own homework to do too you know."

"You say that and yet you continue to nag at me like an old lady, how irritating."

"It's not nagging, I'm simply looking out for you."

Yeah right. Despite the happy display you've shown at your first meeting, Riddle knows it was all a play, that you're only here because you were forced into this position. With a sigh, Riddle finally finished the last of his homework, stretching his small arms up into the air to signal his victory over the sheets of problem filled papers.

"There, I'm finished. Now will you give me this time for myself or will you continue on with this pointless conversation?" With that the playful look on your face disappeared, and in it's place you let out a small laugh, but it lacked any sense of glee, accompanying it was a sad smile.

"I thought the conversation to have been... nice. You don't often come to openly chat with me, even if it's for things relating to outside of your academics. That's why your mother- I mean, that's why I—"

The chair scraped the floor as Riddle shot up from his seat, giving you a look that clearly showed his distaste for the topic you took on. You never broke eye contact as tension soon began to build up. It was moments after, Riddle finally chose his next choice of words, and did they stung, cutting deeper than any paper cut you've ever received. "Let me make one thing clear," your breathing was becoming heavy, but you hung onto his every word, "If you think being my tutor would give you some sort of privilege to speak to me like we're close, as if we're actually friends, then please leave."

You could only watch as he promptly made his way towards the kitchen, probably wanting to be anywhere away from you, is what you think. Sighing, this may come to be more difficult of a task than you expected, but you weren't just going to leave like what Riddle wanted. You've already made it this far into a week with him, so you're not going to give in and give up. Afterall, Riddle is your friend, you just need a bit more time in order to help him see it. To accept you were there for him.

You caught onto his final words, and that only was the beginning.

"I've had enough of people expecting me to be better,"

'You're a Rosehearts for our Great Seven's sake! this shouldn't be difficult for you to do right?!'

"To have others cut into my life without warning when I tell them not to, only to leave once I've been caught,"

'You can study later, come on let's play, and eat all the sweets we want in the meantime!'

"I need at least one person to do their job correctly, so make things easier for me, will you?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #y/n #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts x you #riddle rosehearts #kishira writes

[coeluvr]

When I was writing the canon shorts I was actually planning on doing one where everyone thought the palace was haunted but it was just MC and their demoncore eyes LOL

Do you have any drafts or a paragraph you really liked from it? If you don’t wanna share, that’s fine. Just curious 🤗

Hmm, honestly the part I liked more was where I made MC a miserable wet cat so 😭

It was the short where I was gonna add all the terrible things the servants did to MC so we have miserable MC, Helios, and Hunter on stage:

Helios sighs, his voice cutting through the dark hallway adorned with flickering lanterns. "I'm hungry. I want tarts." Hunter chides, "You had those every day two weeks ago." The realization hits – the recent tart surplus is a result of Helios' past obsession. They're stale, their once vibrant colors now muted, their flavors a distant memory. It's the usual fare, carefully selected by the servants to amplify your misery. They revel in your discomfort, watching intently for any signs of disgust to call you ungrateful and other names. A bitter recollection of the unpleasant taste lingers as you swallow hard. "What did you have today?" Helios squints ahead, shadows playing tricks in the poorly lit corridor. "Not much. Some meat stew and rosemary bread." Stew and bread, if stored properly, should at least maintain their taste and texture. Maybe, just maybe, you will have decent food in a week.

Me, not knowing what people eat: stew 24/7 baby 👍

#coe answers

[nardo-headcanons]

Hi darling I need more fruit/veggie associations with the rest of or some of the characters 😂😂 🥗💜

Hi love! What other characters do you have in mind? Call me stereotypical, but Naruto is and will remain an orange. Honest about what he is and happy to open up, bright, joyful, zesty, but lacking the bitter tartness that grapefuits have.

The first fruit that came into my mind when thinking of Kakashi is the carambola/starfruit. It is rather funky looking and the taste might be surprisingly bland to some. Just like a menacing killer that is feared across nations turning out to be a half asleep dude who reads erotica in public.

Sakura is a lychee. She has a rather hard shell that needs to be cracked, then gets sweet and soft beneath, but then- BOOM. An even harder core in the middle.

For Hinata, my association might be controversial, but I associate her with the fruit monstera deliciosa. A delicious and genuinely sweet fruit, but only if eaten at the right time. Poisonous and deadly when unripe. My first association with Shikamaru is the fruit known as buddha's hand. Interesting to look at, but not willing to deliver on the pulp department and a more acquired taste. Once you become familiar with the fruit you know how to use it and it tastes even better.

If you want more characters let me know!

#naruto #naruto headcanons #naruto shitposting #fruit i guess #sakura haruno #kakashi hatake #hinata uzumaki #shikamaru nara

[twistedgardens]

Kinktober #4

Since there's no confirmed age for Lilia, I don't feel the need to say that he's aged up. He's just a really old man in a very young body.

Content: pet names, somnophilia, oral (female receiving), breeding

Warning: yandere content ahead and all it might entail. Readers are warned that the content contains but not limited to drugging, non-con (non-consent), delusional behavior, somnophilia, forced orgasms, etc. Reader's discretion is advised. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Original yandere prompt found here by drxwsyni (iris). Not mine.

"Y/N, would you like to join me for tea tomorrow afternoon?"

You were startled by Lilia's question. He came out of the blue in his usual fashion right after lunch. There were a million and one things on your mind. You should have refused, but the temptation of peace and quiet and lovely company proved too strong.

"I'd love to! What time?"

Lilia gave you explicit instructions to come in casual dress, and to leave Grim at home or with a babysitter.

"You look like you could use a break from Grim's...antics. You don't mind keeping an old man company by yourself, do you?" Asked Lilia.

You could have sighed with relief. You didn't mind Grim, and you were close as room mates and friends, but his attitude and ego grated your nerves sometimes. It was like living with the embodiment of chaos, between him, the ghosts, and the occasional overblotted student. Tea with someone more mature, albeit just as eccentric, sounded like a respite from the usual noise and shenanigans that Grim brought along with him wherever he went. It was almost an offer too good to be true!

"I wouldn't mind at all. You're not old at any rate. You seem younger than Crowley even or Professor Trein. Don't be so hard on yourself," you said.

Lilia smirked as if you just said a joke." You know sometimes I think, you're too kind for this place. Much too kind. Crowley takes advantage. How do you put up with him?"

You both laughed.

Lilia took in the scene he crafted. A small table in the garden, secluded from where anyone could see them. The trees camouflaged the table with leaves and sweet-scented flowers. He made sure that the students of Diasomnia would be away, including his own charges. Sebek and Silver would guard Malleus just so Lilia could clear his schedule. Tea and treats and little savories were made by someone other than Lilia, sad to say. As much as he wanted to, Silver was quite adamant that Lilia did NOT make anything the prefect of Ramshackle House was intended to eat. Well, that left Silver plenty distracted to not see the ingredients that went into the tea. Nothing harmful.

The hour arrived. The prefect arrived like an ambassador from a foreign kingdom. Lilia pulled out her chair for her before sitting down himself. His old, old bones felt nimble again. This form of his which he presented to everyone was hard to maintain. Though, it had it's good qualities. For many a human, youthfulness and beauty belied hidden dangers. Humans could be so fickle sometimes unlike you. Lilia never met a human like you. You were full of strange stories about your own world, not too much unlike his own, but to live in a world completely without magic? How painful, how dull. Nothing more would please him than to show you how wonderful magic could be. How it could make your life a dream come true if you'd only let it.

Lilia poured two cups. The fragrance was bitter-sweet with a bit of lemon. He brought the cup to his lips, but did not drink. He watched you do the same. Only that her cup was filled with a little than his. Lilia distracted her with conversation and jokes to keep her from looking at his cup.

"Is there anything you miss about your world, Y/N? Anything back home that you care and miss deeply? Family, perhaps?" Asked Lilia.

You take a bite out of a lemon tart and chew before answering. You shrug.

"I have a few things, family, pets, a job. Being here, makes everything feel so small. Going back, I don't know how I'll be able to reconnect with all of that after being in a place like this."

"Do you miss them, your family and friends back home? Do you think they're missing you right now? "

"I imagine they would. Wouldn't anybody? Would Silver miss you if you went missing one day?"

Lilia nodded. "Family is very important for us, especially the Fae. It is sometimes difficult to conceive children, and many of us are selfish and fickle. Cruel, even. But when we appreciate someone, that kinship lasts forever. It becomes a thorn."

"A thorn? That seems kind of mean if you ask me," you said.

"What would be a rose without thorns? The rose didn't grow up one day and decided to arm itself for no reason. Thorns provide protection. When I say a person becomes a thorn, what I mean is that they become someone who surrounds the other person with caring protection from intruders and thieves. To arm oneself against danger is not a sin or weakness, it is the nature of those who have been hurt before."

"And...have you been hurt before, Lilia?" You asked.

"More times than I can count. More tea?"

Lilia refilled your cup. The tea in the kettle was a different hue thanks to it steeping a little bit longer. Lilia continued to smile though you felt your brain becoming fuzzy. Remembering little details slipped through the cracks. From across the table, Lilia watched your head begin to droop towards your chest and your eyelids flutter close. It was an admirable fight between you and the inevitable sleep that consumed you. Your body slumped in the garden chair, limp as a rag doll.

It took Lilia some effort to carry you from the garden to a secret room he'd been preparing for weeks. Your limbs were all gangly and doll-like thanks to the special brew. The chamber, built entirely of magic, hid behind a wall in an unused room below his. No one would venture to looking inside until you were long gone. One year more, Lilia estimated, he only needed to remain at Night Raven for one more year, just long enough to see Malleus graduate. He would make his excuses and bring the prince of Briar Valley to take his rightful place as ruler. But unbeknownst to anyone, including Malleus, was that Lilia also intended to take you with him.

He laid you out on the canopy bed fit for a queen, for you were royalty in all but name in his eyes. You wouldn't be comfortable waking up in this sort of place if your shoes kept biting into your heels, so Lilia removed them. While he was at it, he took off your knee-high socks as well. Long, slender fingers ran up your legs, stopping only at the knee. His fingers itched like nothing else. Lilia sat on the bed to watch you sleep. You were completely unaware of your new surroundings and situation. You were pliant, unresisting, and so ripe for the taking. You truly didn't know the effect you had on men, did you?

Lilia crawled on top of the bed, on top of you. He placed his knee between your legs, crumbling up the skirt you wore. His arms kept most of his weight off you. Lilia lowered himself to place an innocent kiss on your temple. The scent of your hair and skin drove his senses mad. He kissed lower.

Your forehead. Peck. Your nose. Peck. Your cheeks. Peck. Your mouth.

Your lips he devoured last to savor the moment. Though you could not reciprocate for the time being, Lilia lost all of his patience. Your lips were warm and full of life and sweetness. He kissed you and explored inside your mouth with his tongue. He needed to feel more, more, more.

Lilia slipped the blouse off, then your skirt. His flesh felt like it was burning, so he shed off layers too. He pulled your underpinnings off and laid them aside like treasures. Those might come in handy for him later. Your legs were supple, pliant, and easy to hoist one over his shoulder without you resisting. Lilia rested between your legs and leaving a trail of kissed along your inner thigh. With your pussy uncovered, Lilia licked his lips and turned his attention to you and the bundle of nerves begging to be played with. You didn't make a sound at first when Lilia pressed his face against your cunt nor when he gave it experimental licks.

You tasted better than he imagined. Your body writhed in your sleep as Lilia lapped at your folds and nibble gently on your clit. When he caused you to drip, he suckled on your clit and pumped his fingers inside your wet heat until he felt you squeeze on his fingers. Your back arched off the bed and settled back into the mattress, but you remained unconscious. Your slick juices coated Lilia's fingers and tongue. He sucked on his fingers and hummed at the taste of you. His pants were now too tight for him.

Lilia didn't have the time or patience to pull his clothes off. The least he managed was undo his zipper and pulled down his shorts, leggings, and boxers just enough to release his cock already dripping pre-cum. He aligned his cock up to your cunt and waited only a few short breaths before pushing it inside. Lilia closed his eyes, savoring the moment, as he sank deeper. Your eyelids fluttered but did not open. Your body lurched and writhed as if trying to push off the invader. Lilia's grip on your hips kept you in place. He slowly dragged his cock in and out, building a rhythm.

"I couldn't help myself, little one. You're just so precious when you sleep. All vulnerable. You're so pretty it makes me think you might have wanted this to happen. For me to take you away and make you my own. The next time you wake up, I promise, you'll feel every inch of me kissing you, licking you, suckling on those pretty tits. You'll know nothing else but the pleasure I give you."

Lilia rocked his hips against yours. Your body writhed but still did little else. Your eyes remained closed. You were living, breathing, and warm, so it wasn't like Lilia wanted to fuck you as a corpse. Your heart was what he wanted the most, but for the time being, having your body was second best.

"Just think of it. Our children will be so pretty. Half you, and half me. I wonder if I filled you up this time you'd wake up full and pregnant already? I just want to see that belly grow full. My own sleeping beauty so full and round from my cum seeping inside of you, bearing cute little progeny. Won't that be wonderful?"

Lilia didn't worry about making too much noise with his hips slamming into yours and the bed rocking into the wall. He could be, you both could be, as loud as he wanted. The thought of you laying in his bed back at Briar Valley, dressed in silk and carrying a huge belly. He would still fuck this tight, warm cunt of yours even while you were already heavily pregnant.

“I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even be able to think about anyone else.”

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Lilia chanted in his head while he continued to abuse your cunt. There was too much pent up emotion that he needed to let out before moving forward. You'd be nothing but sore when you finally woke up. Lilia needed to make further preparations. But first things first, he needed to bury himself all the way to the hilt of you and fill you up. Unfortunately for you, Lilia had the stamina for days after waiting this long to get you here.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #yandere #yandere content #twst yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #dark content #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia #yandere twst lilia #18+ only #minors DNI #minors do not interact #dead dove do not eat #female reader

[jmrothwell]

"I want to show you off." for Sweet Tarts?

Backlight

“Hey, Peach Blossom.”

Carrie just barely managed to hold back her near-involuntary giddy laugh at Reggie’s greeting. She would have greeted him with a hug closer to the door but she was already in the middle of prepping for dinner. 

“So, I had to deal with some interesting drama today.” Reggie said, hooking his chin over her shoulder as he hugged her from behind.

“Oh? What’s that?” Carrie asked, keeping her attention on her veggie chopping. Though she could just catch the disbelieving scowl Reggie shot her way. His wry chuckle and shake of his hard were more difficult to ignore given the movement somehow brought his face closer to hers.

“Well, apparently,” Reggie began, using that playfully clueless voice usually reserved for when he was trying to pretend he wasn’t aware of what was going on, but Carrie knew better to fall for it by now. “One Carrie Wilson personally reached out to see if our band would be interested in helping her out with some new secret project.”

“That does sound interesting.”

“Mhmm.” Reggie’s voice lost some of the playfulness. “Flynn’s almost certain you’re up to something.”

Carrie only hummed in response as she finally finished all her prep and went to break away from Reggie’s grip to move to actually start cooking, only he wouldn’t let her go.

“Are you?”

Carrie huffed before spinning around in Reggie’s arms, wrapping her own around his waist. “Maybe, I just want to show you off.” She was aiming for teasing but his lost, almost worried expression paired with his question made her think of something else. With an annoyed sigh she added, “You didn’t listen to the demo did you?”

His confusion furrowed deeper into her brow. 

With another sigh she broke free of Reggie, successfully this time. Though she only went far enough to get her phone from where she’d put it on the counter to switch it the demo in question. 

It was a rough idea of the song she had in mind, paired with the limitations of the program she had to use in order to even begin to get a vague idea down of the sound she was going for. Definitely stepping away from her usually pop genre and closer. More of a rock sound, with the bass standing out as a lead sound. 

“I’m no bassist so it definitely can do with improving.” She said, pocketing her phone and trying to not grimace at the poor quality of the demo. “And as I told Julie, Luke, and Flynn earlier I am looking for a band that I trust to help me get the right sound.” 

Neither her demo nor her explanation did anything to get the confused scowl off of Reggie’s face. Almost worryingly so. Maybe it sounded a lot worse than she thought and that was part of why Julie and Luke had seemed hesitant about it. 

“It’s okay if you actually aren’t interested, I'm sure I can hire someone.”

“No, that’s not it.” Reggie said, quickly closing the space to pick up one of her hands. “It’s not bad, just a little rough around the edges but, it’s just the instrumentation. I’m not sure where.”

“Where I fit in?” She quickly cut in, biting back a mildly bitter laugh when Reggie nodded. She definitely should have talked to him about this part before now. “I do have lyrics, two versions actually, and I figured you should probably help me decide which ones to use before anyone else heard them.”

She didn’t even wait for him to ask before she went to one of the demo’s with her singing. This was definitely angrier than most of her songs. An old venting song channeling her frustration and bitterness at trying to force himself into a mold, and definitely full of more growls and yells she’d ever had to record before. She switched over to the second version so quickly she’s not sure if Reggie even noticed at first, probably thought the song had looped. 

At least until she started singing. While this version was similar in tone, the lyrics were definitely more focused on her wanting to make her own place in the world. Though the second verse not so subtly was talking about how Reggie helped inspire that. Or maybe it was only obvious to her, his eyebrow barely quirked up.

His silence didn’t once the song ended didn’t help either. Nor the way he wasn’t even really looking at her anymore. 

“So when you said show me off.” He eventually said after clearing his throat. Though he left the statement to hang between them. 

“I meant as maybe more than just a bass player.” She finished the thought for him, smiling in spite of herself, at the awe written across his face. 

“But I thought.”

“I think I’m ready to let other people know about us.” Carrie cut him off, smiling brighter with his smile, sunshine bright as always. “And yes I’m sure.” She added when she saw that furrow start to form between his brows again.

He pulled her closer, kissing her before she even fully realized that’s what he was going to do. Catching her by surprise seemed to be something he was uniquely adept at. Almost as good as he was at distracting her. 

But she managed to pull herself away long enough this time to finish dinner and for them to flesh out her idea a little better. As well as to get a good second draft of the lyrics sort of combining the two versions. 

In the end she knows even if Julie and everyone else don’t agree to help with the song she’s got Reggie’s support.

#julie and the phantoms #reggie x carrie #JatP Sweet Tarts #This is very much the result of me listening to Amalee's Backlight a lot this week

[amostimprobabledream]

Ignite Me (Homelander x Reader) - Part Six

Hi all. Sorry this chapter took me so long, I couldn’t get my original idea to work so I had to go back to the drawing board. Plus I haven’t really watched The Boys since I finished Season 3 so I haven’t been as into it as I was when I first started. Hopefully this doesn’t come as a let-down after waiting a few months.

Also small TW: Someone (not Homelander) attempts to kiss Reader against her will. Just as a heads-up. The bar was a blur of colour and light. Music thudded so loud through the room that you could feel it in your ribcage. You smacked your lips, still sticky with sugar that dusted the rim of your last cocktail, swaying to a song you didn't know the words to. In other words, you were drunk as fuck. "Heyyy!" a similarly-drunk Casey came prancing back up to you and the others you're with, bearing a tray of drinks that wobbled dangerously at her drunken gait. Her cleavage also wobbled in her tight red dress, which was probably why it had taken her such a short time to get served. "Shots!" "Shots, shots, shots!" you cheered, grabbing one with clumsy fingers. Across from you, a hand appeared in your field of vision, instantly irritating you, because it belongs to a man - a man who didn't clean his fingernails. Steve took a shot, and you knew he's trying to make eye contact with you again, so you purposefully looked towards Casey and clinked tiny plastic glasses against hers in a cheers. To be honest, you don't know why Steve was here. Casey only seemed to be vaguely acquainted with him, a friend of hers called Danesha or Danika or something (it’s hard to hear much over the music) brought him along and you wondered why neither the woman who brought him or Steve seemed to notice or care how out of place he was with a group of women he barely knows. His low-effort outfit of a polo-neck t-shirt and baggy jeans looks weird against all your clubbing outfits and he bobbed around on the fringes of the group, head jerking awkwardly to whatever song was on. Foam from the beer he was drinking clung to the scraggly beard he had. The thing was, you knew what Steve wanted. He's been staring at both Casey, you and some other girls for most of the night (you knew you guys looked good, but come on) and he kept trying to get you to dance with him despite the fact he had A) No rhythm and B) a shit taste in songs. He even offered to buy you a drink, his hot, gross breath wafting over your ear, but you pretended not to understand him under the volume of the music. His staring, his presence, his ultimate passivity in how he's tossing out a few cliche gestures and now they haven't worked he's just standing there in a group of dancing, chatting girls like a useless appendage, pissed you off. You don't want him here because tonight was meant to be all about the girls, not tolerating some random guy just because he got dumped and he's sooo sad because it still hurts. You wanna know what hurts? you thought savagely, one of the most lucid thoughts you've had since you left Casey's apartment. Getting fucking shot. Fucking Steve.

Maybe you wouldn't be feeling so hostile towards this wet dishrag of a man if it wasn't for anything else. The whispers and staring that had followed you around for weeks, maybe even over a month by now. How you still felt exhausted so quickly and suddenly these days, the scar from the gunshot wound on your stomach, that fucking interview you'd essentially been tricked into giving...you just had no patience  left, and definitely not when you were trying so hard to forget all of it. Forget about him. You wouldn't speak the name - didn't even want to think it - so you swallowed down the shot in your hand without stopping to ask what it was first. You learn the minute it hit you tongue, the sharp, acrid bitterness filling your mouth. You gagged. Fucking tequila! You scrambled to grab a lime, realising belatedly you forgot to do salt, and sucked on it frantically, the tart sourness of the fruit a cleansing balm of the shot. Casey cackled as everyone else chokes - she actually likes tequila and drinks it for fun. You'd forgotten that about her. She grabbed your hand. "Let's dance!" she bellowed at you, her lipgloss all smudged, and dragged you into a sea of bodies twisting beneath candy-coloured lights. Eager to get away from Steve, you followed her lead, even though you're not exactly some amazing dancer yourself, when you're this fucked up it hardly matters. Your eyes lazily scanned the faces around you, looking to see if you can find any guys you thought were cute. It's been a while since you've had sex and even if picking up randoms from a bar wasn't usually your style, maybe that's exactly what you needed right now. But try as you might, you can't see anybody that makes you feel anything. Your heart beats on steadily, unmoved by the people on display, and you sighed, wondering if you're getting too old for this or if you're being picky or something. You can't even remember the last time somebody genuinely made your heart skip a beat- Yes you can. “I love this song!!” Casey screamed at you over the music, her hair falling out of the updo she’d put it in earlier but in a way that looked artfully messy, and your face lights up when you recognise the tune, an old favourite from your college days. “Me too!” you yelled back. Funny how some booze robbed you of your inability to make any sort of meaningful observations, but that wasn’t really what’s required of you right now. It doesn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter as you twisted and turned beneath the strobe lights, a machine sending out plumes of dry ice, hiding the dancefloor that’s soaked in people’s spilled drinks by now. You watched as the people around you flash red, yellow, green, blue…something so normal made mesmerising with just a few tricks of the light (and copious amounts of liquid courage, it had to be said). The other girls pushed their way through the crowd to join you, squealing, the lights twinkling on their jewellery or the glitter on their eyelids. And right on Danesha’s heels was fucking Steve. It's like tasting something slightly off in an otherwise good meal, contaminating every other bite. He’s looking at you again, that vaguely dead eyed expression that sent your teeth on edge, so you turned your back to him. He seemed impervious to reading body language or your annoyed expressions, but not having to look at him was at least something. “Oh my god, Lucy, what are you doing?!” Danesha suddenly shrieked. You all turned to look at Lucy, one of Casey’s friends, who had somehow crossed the dancefloor without any of you noticing and had climbed on one of the tables, dancing around on it like a thing possessed. You’re kind of impressed she somehow hadn’t knocked over all of the glasses and bottles covering the surface. She had her arms thrown above her head, bracelets sliding down her skinny wrists, blonde hair twisting back and forth along with her movements. A security guard rushed over, nearly colliding with you, yelling at her to get down or he’d throw her out, and as the oblivious crowd around you start jumping up and down to an R’n’B song that just started, you realised something- You’re going to puke. You bolted for it, feeling the hot, sickly feeling rising in your throat, the roof of your mouth tingling. You raced towards the ladies, but skidded to a halt – the queue was so long you doubted you’d make it even if they let you pass to get to the sinks, so you did the only over thing you could think of and ran outside where the smokers went. The tequila tasted even worse on the way back up as you bent over a trashcan outside and vomited it back up, throat burning with it and your eyes stinging. You blinked hard several times because you didn’t want it to fuck up your eyeliner. You made a mental note that in future, when Casey gives you a mysterious shot, at least ask what it is first. You still had your drink from before in your hand and took a cautious swig from it to wash the horrible taste out of your mouth, spitting it out into the trashcan too. It’s not water but it’s an improvement, at least. “Hey.” You stiffened. You didn’t need to turn around to know who the voice belonged to. Your fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle as you turned your head to see Steve standing a few feet behind you, hands in his pockets. “What?” you said, flatly, because you weren’t interested in small talk. He looked slightly surprised at your response, blinking and swaying a little. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay or if you wanted him to get Casey or someone, of course. He’s only interested in what he wants. “So like…you’re so hot.” Steve said and if you weren’t already so done with him, you might have laughed at what a pathetic attempt at a pickup line that was. “And I was thinking like…we should-“ “No.” you interrupted. Steve stared at you. “What?” “There is no ‘we’. Whatever you were about to ask, I’m not interested.” You said, and it’s a relief to get it out in the open. Whatever he wanted, he wasn’t getting it from you. “I’m going back inside now.” “Hey, you don’t even know what I was gonna say!” Steve protested in a whiny voice, blocking the doorway. “Don’t be like that.” “I don’t even know what you’re doing here.” You blurted out, anger rising in you like someone turned up a thermostat inside you. “It was meant to just be us girls and here you are, expecting us all to feel bad for you because you got dumped or something and ruining it for all of us. It’s so creepy how you’re hovering around acting like if you buy us drinks or whatever it means you’ll get something out of it later. That’s not how it works. Now get out of my fucking way.” God, it felt good to say that, seeing that stunned look on his face like he couldn’t believe his ears. You’re so sick of holding back everything you want to say, every moment of every day, of feeling like you’re constantly walking over a landmine and if you don’t consider everything you do carefully, it’ll all be blown to smithereens. You’ve been swallowing venom for so long it’s great to spit it out. “You’re a bitch!” Steve spluttered in astonishment, clearly aiming to sound scornful but he sounded so affronted that it’s impossible to take him seriously – if he had pearls to clutch, he would. “You got that right.” You said, feeling a vindictive smirk on your face. “Now move.” You’ve wasted quite enough time on this douchebag as it was, and you went to push past him when he suddenly grabbed at your arm. “Wait, just calm down.” Steve said, slurring slightly. “Get the hell off me.” You hissed at him. You wrenched your arm free, stumbling backwards and when you right yourself, Steve’s face was suddenly looming over you like a satellite dish, his lips puckered grotesquely. Ugh! “I said get away!” You swung your hand to hit him, outrage flooding your brain and overriding any shred of common sense, but the hand you instinctively flung up was still clutching the bottle from earlier and there’s a loud, dull thunk as it collided with the side of Steve’s face. The bottle doesn’t break or shatter dramatically, but either way you get your desired outcome – Steve getting the fuck away from you, clutching his face and moaning loudly, a strange, bovine noise that made you think of a cow getting stuck. “My eye! My eye! You bitch, you fucking cunt!” he shouted, staggering on the spot, a spot just below his eyebrow already starting to swell. You know you should be feeling something right now – shocked or guilty or something, but there’s nothing there. Just a cold sense of satisfaction in having your kneejerk dislike of Steve vindicated. “You’re fucking pathetic.” You said, like a queen issuing a royal decree, before tossing your makeshift weapon aside and walking back into the bar. Inside, you only have to walk a few steps before a bouncer passed you, carrying a semi-conscious Lucy over one gigantic shoulder, Danesha and the other girls following him like a row of duckling and loudly talking, though you can’t tell if they’re upset about being kicked out or just trying to rouse Lucy. Casey came rushing up to you. “There you are! Come on, we should go – Lucy’s absolutely out of it, so we’re going to take her back to Christa’s place to sober her up. Do you wanna crash there too? She doesn’t mind.” You considered it as you followed Casey out, ducking and weaving past the people still dancing the night away, but after puking up your last drink and braining Steve in the face, you decided that you know when to fold. “No, I’ll get a taxi back to mine. I’m tired and I don’t want to sleep on the floor.” You said. You debated telling her about Steve, but knowing Casey she’d probably go looking for him and try to fight him and as much as you love her for that, you’d say you’ve taken care if things. Anyway, you don’t want to ruin her night any further. Maybe you’ll tell her about it later when you’ve both sobered up. Outside the club, there are plenty of taxis waiting and after the bouncer deposits Lucy in one of them (which was pretty nice of him – you’ve known bouncers who would probably leave someone that drunk lying on the floor so long as they weren’t in the bar), Casey turned to you and gave you a hug. “Sure you don’t want to come with us?” “I’m sure.” You replied – you wanted to go home and sleep. “Okay. Talk tomorrow, text me when you get home!” she ordered you. “Don’t forget!” “You’re the one who never remembers to text.” You snorted as you climbed into the back of the taxi. “See you later.” The taxi pulls away from the curb and after giving your address, you slump back against the seat, your eyes sliding shut despite yourself. He’ll wake you up when you get to your destination, for sure. Outside the taxi, the city parties on. ~ Elsewhere… "Stupid bitch..." Steve, forgotten by the group of people he'd arrived at the bar with, even Danisha, who'd brought him, stumbles home through the brightly lit night of the city. The night is beginning to wind down now, most of the partiers tiring of their alcohol-induced fun and retreating home or joining a stranger to spend the rest of the night with. Steve doesn't want to return home, but to say his night has been ruined was an understatement - his throbbing face was testament enough to that. Just who the fuck did you think you were, anyway? He’s a nice guy and he's just been dumped! Was it so much to ask he get to hang out with a group of hotties for a night? But you’d looked at him like he was shit on your boots, like you were so fucking special. And Danika had made it seem he'd for sure get laid, she insisted he was a great guy and his ex was crazy for breaking up with him, yet all he got was fucking smashed in the face! This petulant internal monologue continues on and on. He may have even been inclined to continue going to bars in hopes of guilting some woman into letting him go home with her, throwing himself on her sense of pity as if impaling himself on a sword. But he doesn't have the cash, and besides which, his face is sore and throbbing, a bruise already forming beneath his eyebrow. By the morning it will be there, the only souvenir of tonight and not one he was hoping to walk away with. He turns into the mouth of an alleyway that’s a handy shortcut home - Steve grimaces as a waft of garbage reached his nose, no doubt collection day’s tomorrow morning, so it's not a pleasant trip, but it takes him further away from the noise and bright lights that seem to be mocking him, everybody else having fun while all he got was attacked. Can he sue for assault or whatever it was? GBA or something? When Steve rounds the next corner, where some lurid graffiti art that always catches his eye and made him stare at it as he passed, he's unprepared to be intercepted. He stops, squinting. A figure stands in the middle of the alley. Thanks to the bright lighting of a billboard across the street, light floods the street and the man's features are in shadow. Steve squints, confused - the posture wasn't one of any mugger he's ever seen before. He can already tell this guy’s strong, he’s taller and bulkier than Steve is, even in silhouette. The man stands there, legs apart, shoulders thrown back and hands behind his back. But Steve spots something - an American flag, dangling behind the man, lit up by the fluorescent glow. “…No way…” Steve mutters under his breath, drunk as he is – even someone blackout drunk would recognise the person standing in front of him. But why’s he here? Homelander says nothing to explain himself, why Vought’s golden boy would be standing in a filthy alleyway like he’s staring down enemy gunfire. He steps closer silently, the flag swaying hypnotically behind him. Steve finds himself staggering backwards until his jacket brushes brick wall, which is crazy. He’s an innocent citizen, why is he instinctively drawing away from Homelander? Unless…maybe it’s not him at all? Maybe it’s just some guy on a bachelor party in a Homelander outfit or something? His uniform is a popular choice, they’re easy to get into and instantly recognisable, no need to have multiple conversations explaining your outfit at a costume party with such an iconic Supe’s wardrobe readily available. It’s a useful disguise in case you wanna rob somebody, too. Convinced of his theory, Steve yells: “Hey, man! What do you want?!” And then his stomach turns to ice, as in the gloom of the alleyway, two pinpricks of red flare in the darkness, like the eyes of a crocodile. It's him. A hand shoots out, grasping Steve by the throat and lifting him off the ground as easily as most people might pick up a bag of washing. Steve chokes, flounders, Homelander’s thumb digging into the vulnerable flesh beneath his jaw. His movements feel so slow and sluggish and Homelander tilts his head in consideration, his jaw clenched. Steve splutters for air, the grip on his throat like a vice. His fingers claw pointlessly at Homelander’s glove, legs weakly kicking. He tries to speak but all that comes out is an incoherent gurgle. “Please…” Homelander’s lips draw back in a snarl. In that moment he looks less a man and more like a beast. Steve’s panic-stricken eyes meet glowing scarlet ones, tears leaking from them instinctively. Homelander finally speaks; “She’s right. You are fucking pathetic.” And the fist clenches and the bones in Steve’s neck pop like twigs, the flesh giving way beneath his superhuman grip like it’s nothing more than paper. Steve's body jerks and a final, rattling gurgle leaves his mouth. Then he falls still, head slumping. Homelander drops the body, where it collapses before the graffiti in a crumpled heap, piss staining the front of his ill-fitting jeans, glassy eyes staring at nothing. Homelander wipes his hand on the thigh of his suit, like he just touched something filthy. He sniffs once, rolls his shoulders. A blink later, a casual lift into the sky, and he’s gone.

#Homelander x Reader #The Boys (2019) #The Boys x Reader #Fanfiction #Writings #Homelander x You

[tartelongan]

give me all your tartelongan hcs

Tarte Tatin x Longan Dragon Cookie Headcanons!

Offff the top of my head!!!

[I headcanon Longan Dragon Cookie in the Cookie Run: Kingdom timeline to be sweeter and more caring. I have a particular reason for it! I headcanon Longan in Ovenbreak to be so bitter and angry because their (hc) child, Snapdragon Cookie, was either lost, poached, or taken because of Cookies!]

- Longan loves putting red ribbons on Tarte Tatin and tying her hair with them. They've had a few thousand, er, maybe million years to do whatever so I think they'd have a lot of skills- one of them being sewing! Lots and lots of ribbons and bows on the dresses, getups, armors, anything really that they make for her!

- Tarte Tatin likes the ribbons, but when her hair gets messy (she runs around and hunts dragons all day), she has to take them out. She ties them onto the Longan Eyes and Longan thinks it's cute.

- Speaking of which, Longan doesn't mind her hunting dragons because dragons themselves used to fight each other a LOT back in the day, and because the dragons she fights are the (kind of inferior, more animalistic and less civilized, sort of dragons) If anything, it makes them swoon, because what dragon doesn't want a woman that can kick their ass if need be? (cough, cough, Hollytaya)

- Longan met Tarte Tatin because they were looking for Snapdragon thinking the egg most certainly got cooked or sold or hatched or something, but instead found a whole ass dragon hunter casually taking care of their kid. They kind of awkwardly co-parent Snapdragon and Tarte Tatin does not vibe with Longan thinking they're acting really increasingly suspicious about her as time goes on but it's just Longan's pea sized dragon brain having a massive crush on her

(the headcanons will only get worse from here)

- Longan is a housewife /hj. they like baking and cooking and can't stop baking pies because their wife is a pie cookie and they think this is great

- Tarte Tatin can cook too but not bake very well (because it's very hard to bake a cake in the wilderness as opposed to making a stew or some jelly meat!) and so Longan tries teaching her how to bake because they love baking. I lied. Longan doesn't like baking they love baking.

- It took a long time to convince Tarte Tatin to move into the Longan palace.

- She falls in love with Longan because their attempts to win her over are with things that actually require skill to do (like making her a cannon or armor rather than just flexing their power).

- Tarte Tatin loves modifying her cannon and talks Longan's ears off about mechanisms and aerodynamics and trajectory and (Longan is very excited and takes all of it into account).

- Longan also loves putting roses all over Tarte Tatin. They have a flower garden.

- Tarte Tatin brings Longan random stuff she finds and they have a room of the palace where they put all of it (though most of it ends up in Longan's bedroom).

- Longan does not look into the future directly, but instead senses the general flow of things. They aren't a control freak because their kid isn't dead in my headcanon that I cry at night thinking about and tell myself is the truth. Longan's element is light just like Lotus has water and Pitaya has fire... etc. Also their servants are paid well and have a life outside of doing stuff for Longan.

- Longan gives Tarte Tatin immortality and powers over light via a dragon's bead like Pitaya and Fire Spirit. She, after then, uses a modified version of her cannon that shoots beams of light and also helps to protect the flow of life/Cookiekind.

- Longan's preferred affectionate nickname for Tarte Tatin is "Sweet Tarte". Tarte Tatin's for Longan is "Sunshine".

- Tarte Tatin's parents are alive but very, very old, with bad eyesight and can not tell Longan is a dragon. They've been told but they think it's some running joke.

- Snapdragon calls Tarte Tatin "mama" and Longan "papa"

- Longan didn't know Snapdragon was alive because his anxiety clouded his perception of the events to come (which also made meeting Tarte Tatin nicer, since he didn't expect it)

This took fifteen years, but yay! It's done, I threw my headcanons out there!

#cookie run #crob #crk #longan dragon cookie #tarte tatin cookie #cookie run kingdom #tartelongan