Twisted Wonderland: An Eye Study [2/7]

now that i finished octavinelle's episode, i'm going to dedicate my time in finally creating my oc !!! hasdjsjs i'm actually excited hgngngnng

i know i've been really inactive here when it comes to writing, but don't hesitate to send in some requests bcos i really want to add something new to this acc (well, except for my art) 😔🥺

Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing: 30 Questions for Authors

What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

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In [x fic], what is a happy, post-fic headcanon you have about [pairing]?

Send me a word. If it’s in your WIPs, include the sentence and a short summary of the fic.

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Lights, Camera, Action! - scaramouche x reader smau

summary:

you’re best friends with the famous band of all time, 5WIRL. however, DCKZ are rising to the top which are leaving your friends in the dust. the solution: add a new member, a new face to start some attention! it did cause attention alright, especially for your heart.

pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader

genre: band au, smau, fluff, crack, celebrity x reader, angst

warning: cursing, scandals, false rumors, kys jokes, mistreatment

status: ongoing!

taglist: open!

5WIRL the lovers DCKZ

Prologue: 1 & 2

01: congratulations! (you’re fucked)

02: common venti L

03: todays the day

04: childe has 0 rizz

05: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, SIX

06: let’s do it

07: << egg sandwiches

08: not your wife

09: fake birthday

10: scarapoo

11: sandwich kisses

12: stay mad

13: kaeyas delusional era

14: yn’s love life

15: SCARA!

16: therapist venti

17: the first show

18: bitchy woman

19: cricket cricket

20: just a friend

21: oh

22: strong

23: retweet

24: im glad to have met you

25: the delusions won

26: HE WANT ME

27: yes

28: TEN?????

29: giggling

30: hoe list

31: date night

32: together 4eva

33: bf reveal

34: enough is enough

35: best friends

36: sugar booger

37: marriage arc

38: fucking kids

39: by my side

40: kazurizz

41: oops i did it again

42: suck it up

43: stupid + stupid

44: = scarayn

45: angel from heaven

46: jealousy jealousy

47: boy what

48: fine then

49: feelings suck

50: hopefully

51: I’m Sorry

52: two weeks!?

53: he’s everywhere

54: bitchless era

55: good luck (you need it)

56: the artist named “….”

57: bye boyfie

58: love confessions

59: yn the widow

60: scara the widower

61: NOW NOW NOW

62: TAY

63: PAC-MAN

64: horrible people

65: pussy

66: big fan

67: what about us?

68: ten kids confirmed

69: crashing down

70: sleeping beauty

71: Goodbye Moon

72: new you new me

73: rattled cages

i'm reading blue lock and i love this pretty boy so much it hurts 😩✨

umibe no étranger (海辺のエトランゼ) — sept 11, 2020

thank you for the tag, sal 🥺

idrk who to tag but @yusemis @emsvegetables @dorkyama @t-amajiki

if you did this already, i'm sorry :<< ,, but if you don't want to, it's alright

yeehaw here’s anotha one

here is meee~ lowkey pretty close to how i look irl (rbf 24/7 HAHAHA)

here’s da link:

https://picrew.me/image_maker/376622

tagging: @ushiwakasplant @min-nevermind @trashys-things @katsuhoee @namikxze @yamaguchi-stan & anyone else who wants to join innn

we finally got kuroo (who i was so sure of being a MF CHEMIST OR BIOLOGIST BUT NOOO HOMEBOY REALLY WENT OUT THERE TO BECOME A FRICKIN CAPITALIST) ,,, NOW WHERE IS THE REST OF NEKOMA HGNNGNG

x : LUST FOR LIFE *+ﾟ

in which: sunday discovers a new emotion when he's under you.

warnings: 1.5k words, sunday is B(h)ORNY and doesn't know how to deal with it, he wants reader so bad, lowkey implied switch!sunday, gn!reader being sunday's freak awakening, NO SMUT BUT UNDER 16 DNI, not edited

a/n: five likes and i'll write nsfw for sunday

What good is a leader who can’t empathise with the lives of the people he was supposed to be leading?

This thought has plagued Sunday ever since he exiled himself from Penacony, since he joined the Astral Express in a journey of self-discovery and reflection, embracing the Nameless lifestyle so he can broaden the horizons that Penacony had restricted. There, he was so detached from the reality of the people he was trying to help, so trapped in a whirlwind of his own ideals to experience humanity, too buried in official duties to rejoice in the many wonders of the universe, the simple pleasures and the grandiose ones.

Since boarding, the former head of the Oak Family has experienced humiliation, desperation, and many close calls with death. It seems he underestimated how easily trouble found the Trailblazers, and the diary he carries with him has been updated with multiple entries, filled with exasperated recounts that ended with him being grateful that he is still well and unscathed.

Sunday has also experienced laughter, connection, and the bond of humankind- something he did not have before. When he controlled the Oak Family, had everyone under or at his fingertips, the only person he could depend on was himself. When Robin left to travel the cosmos, what was he to do than learn the bitter truth of independence and self-sufficiency? 

Yet, he sits on the couches of the Astral Express and there is bound to be another by him, trying to converse with him like an old friend. He is mentioned in the conversations like an individual who they keep around because they want to, not because he is crafty, not because of what he can offer. No, he can’t offer anything right now, and the crew still wants him to stay.

He learns more about humanity with each passing day.

However, perhaps one of the more puzzling feelings Sunday has had to confront was… infatuation. 

It’s a tricky feeling. It sends his heart into overdrive and his limbs to become jelly, and at the epicentre of this hurricane of uncharted territory, is you. 

“Sunday?” Your voice comes through muffled from the other side of the door. He almost jumps off his mattress at the sound. 

“Door is open,” he responds as calmly as possible, heart thrumming alive at the sound of your voice, beating in time with the rapid succession of your knocks. 

The door slides open slowly to reveal you on the other side. “Pom Pom just wanted to let everyone know that we will be jumping soon.” 

“I see, thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem,” your gaze then flickers to the angels that flock around him and he watches as your eyes gleam with fascination.

Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, you enter his room and approach him, the door sliding closed without your weight to hold it open. You stop before him without a bow, without a formal greeting of ‘Mr. Sunday’- no, you stop before him like an equal, which you most certainly are. In fact, he would even think of himself below you, but Sunday needs to unlearn this assumption of hierarchy, needs to not let it define the relationships he forms, even if he looks up to you and finds you reverent. 

“Hey, I’ve never seen these little guys before!” You exclaim, sticking out a hand to act like a perch for the angel-like summons. One of them flits up to you and stays on your outstretched finger. “Well, not this close, at least.”

It keens at your praise. Like owner like summon, Sunday supposes.

“I don’t tend to bring them out. They are for combat purposes,” he explains. 

Your eyes widen slightly. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” 

“What? No! That’s not it-”

“-I’m kidding, Sunday,” you snicker. “We’re friends, I wouldn’t want to fight you.”

“Right,” he exhales, “I wouldn’t want to fight you either.”

“Besides, we already did once.”

He freezes at the memory, remembers when he got hit with the exact train he is currently boarding. 

You, however, are unphased by the recollection, and even continue to rub salt in the wound. “I remember fighting against these little summons too, your owner was a real meanie, do you guys know that?” 

They flock around you, spinning and fluttering like little fireflies.  Instinctively, Sunday covers his flustered expression with his wings, and he doesn’t budge, even when he hears your laugh, the sound almost enough for him to melt into a puddle by your feet.

“Hey, hey, I was kidding, sorry if I took the joke too far.” 

He uncovers himself with an embarrassed sigh, not meeting your eyes. “It’s okay, I think the memory is just… humiliating, more than anything.”

“There are no more hard feelings. Everyone has accepted you on board and none of us think of you to be the same person you were when we first met, I promise.”

Your words are completely earnest, Sunday knows it, can feel it in the way you tell him so unabashedly. So who is he to deny it?

“Thank you,” he says, finally looking up at you, “it means a lot to hear that.” 

“I’ll say it as much as you need. Well, I’ll get out of your hair now, just prepare for the jump-”

Your sentence is interrupted by a shriek when you lose your footing, and Sunday feels it too, the force so strong that even he, while sitting, feels as if is being stretched and pulled into a miniscule hole. What he also feels is your body colliding on top of his, and his hands come to your waist to catch you in an attempt to prevent you from slipping, but it’s not enough and he’s falling with you onto the expanse of his made bed.

The Express is warping to some expanse of the universe, and his stomach drops at the sensation, spreading to the ends of his nerves before disappearing, just replaced by the extremely odd feeling of being pulled through the stars. He just hopes you’re comfortable, standing up whilst warping is tough, he heard the stories of when Stelle first tried to do it and how she fell flat on her face. 

When the feeling of normality returns and Sunday doesn’t feel like he has been stretched out, he opens his eyes and tries to take in the sight before him.

You. Your face. Centimetres away from his.

He’s always thought you were pretty, but seeing you this close… perhaps just pretty is an understatement. His gaze unwillingly flicks to your lips and he wished he hadn’t because suddenly the urge to sit up and lick into your mouth is raging; a fire that can’t be contained. 

Sunday wants you to push him down by the shoulders, with no gentleness or mercy, and just… devour him whole. His hands want to find you by the hips and pull you into him more than humanly possible, he wants you to indent yourself onto him so he can remember your taste forever, so that, in a way, you couldn’t ever leave him. 

Alternatively, he would happily flip around and pin you against the mattress. He would pry you open, explore the cavern of your mouth with his tongue and suck your sacred essence out of you so that it can stay and settle in his bones instead, replacing where marrow should be. He wants to lay you vulnerable so his hands can explore places only you want him to touch, wants to take you so that you stay forever, wants to feel your tongue against his, wants to hold your face and feel how you react when he takes his time cherishing you, revering you. 

This feeling is too much, these thoughts are overpowering, yet nothing has ever been more clear. Sunday wants you, lusts for you, even, and he’s never felt so intensely for someone before. 

How would the symphonies sound when they learn of the atrocities he wants to perform? 

Temptation holds him close and infects him with a desire so strong, he’s practically frozen in place as you recover from the shock, holding yourself up with your arms that were on either side of his head. 

“Ow, I’m sorry!” You immediately exclaim, before realising exactly what position you are in, your chests are pressed together, and you’re mortified to think about how close you were before you picked yourself off him, and- his… his hips… are pressed against yours- okay, you needed to leave as soon as possible.

You scramble off him like he had burnt you, frantically shouting apologies whilst doing so, the words clumsy and rushed, but neither of you can deny how you miss the warmth that was suddenly ripped away. 

(If he wanted to, you could have stayed in that position with him.)

Then, before you could get anymore thoughts, you turn and practically bolt out of his room without another word, leaving a hot and bothered Sunday behind.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited - Check 03

The sinews of war are infinite money ( 金は戦力なり)