#i really want to see what miss Thorne looks like

[nvuy]

Argenti has really been on the brain as of late…I miss my wife….how do we feel about vampire agrenti//getsranover

love bites! — argenti

summary. argenti would do anything for you, even if that anything went against his own moral code.

notes. i think ANON YOU COOKED. YOUUUU COOKED. YOUUUUUUUU COOKED.

warnings. ehhhh… i’ll give it a 16+, suggestive content, as per usual you’re a freak, but argenti is also a freak so it’s okay, as the ask suggests argenti is a vampire, blood, biting, ummm, yk. vampire stuff. but it’s romantic i think.

You feel the couch dip next to you with added weight, and Argenti rests his head in the crook of your neck.

He has barely just gotten comfortable on the couch when you decide to be a thorn in his side. You grin wryly down at him. “Wanna try it?”

Argenti flutters his lashes in confusion.

You huff. “There’s a reason I wore a low cut shirt, dude.” You gesture towards your neckline.

“Oh!” Suddenly, he looks guilty. “As much as I appreciate your offer, I’m afraid I must decline.” He shakes his head and offers you a kind smile of his own. “I have staved off blood for years. I cannot start now. It would be… very unbecoming of me.”

“But, I want you to,” you try lightly. “And it’s your birthday.”

Birthday. As if his birthdays meant anything anymore. Argenti has had hundreds by now. Still, you always manage to make him feel like the most important man in the universe.

He laughs. “My birthday is two months away.”

“Early present,” you conclude firmly.

Then, you lean forward and wrap your arms around his shoulders. His skin has been bloodless since the day you met him, but there’s something so beautiful about it’s near translucency. It’s iridescently white and brilliant, and it’s like pearl silk when his hair spills over his shoulders.

Speaking of which, his hair smells of cherry and coconut.

Hmm, hmm. He’s used your shampoo—not that you mind. Not at all. He uses it because it is something to remember you by when he leaves for extended voyages. And it’s cute.

“C’mon.” It comes out as a childish droning low whine as you hit his shoulders gently. “I see the way you look at me when I get hurt. It'll be good for you.”

Argenti appears sheepish, though he indulges in your hand that cards over his scalp. His fangs poke from behind his bottom lip.

He glances away for a moment. His eyes have traced down to your neck, and he almost abandons his willpower to taste your skin.

“Just a teensy weensy bit.” You pinch your fingers together for good measure.

“It will not be ‘teensy weensy,’” Argenti explains softly. Although his voice falters for a moment, his hands do not tremble. “I will not be able to stop myself. You have always been tempting.”

“Aww.” You bop him on the shoulder. “You’re worried about me?”

“Well, of course. I do love you.”

Your heart falters. You’re sure he can hear how your blood stutters in your veins. He’s said it those words again—how many times? Almost everyday—and it still manages to fluster you.

How you managed to score this dude was beyond you. Maybe the ‘tempting’ part of you was the friends we made along the way.

You giggle like he’s smacked you over the head with his giant spear and caused a concussion. That’s what it feels like, at least. He makes you feel dizzy, but in a good way, like you’re being spun around and around by a lover when you return home after a long day.

Your fingers are still pinched together. “Just a little bit.”

You see him swallow.

He fidgets with his fingers for a moment.

He’s staring at your jugular, and though he appears apprehensive, there’s something clouding over his gaze.

He can’t say no to you. It goes against all of his moral principles.

“If it will make you happy.” Just a taste. He’s set in his ways, now. He’ll prick your neck, allow your blood to wash over his tongue, and then he’ll pull away.

And he really does love to make you happy.

“Hell yeah, it will.” You press your chest to his. “All yours.”

Oh, goodness. He swallows harder, and his hands that are usually confident with how they move, are suddenly hesitant now that they rest on the sides of your face. His hands are free of his gloves, and though his skin isn’t warm, you enjoy the callouses and marks that rub against your flesh.

Dutifully, you push his hair behind his ears.

You’re jealous of how lovely he is.

“Are you certain this is–”

“Yep.”

His brows knit together. “But this–”

“Argenti.”

He smiles apologetically. “I just want to make sure this is something you want, and not something you are doing for my sake.”

You sigh.

Then, you press your lips to his. You don’t let the taste of him distract you, however—and you know that’s secretly what he’s plotting by how his eyes flutter shut.

Argenti appears disappointed when you pull away.

“I want you to do this.”

Uh oh. You’re in for it now. You know that look.

He wants to. He does. He’s wanted to for a while now. But it is selfish of him to drink the blood from your wounds, so he instead ignores the desire.

Now, he can’t ignore it any longer.

His lips press to your cheek first. Then he moves to your jawline, painstakingly slow, but still considerate with how he dotes upon you. Maybe he’s trying to coax you from making the worst decision of your life. Wouldn’t be the first time.

You hum, pleased.

His nose is cold when he buries his face into the side of your neck where the throbbing arteries lie beneath thin supple skin.

And you smell delicious. He smells every throb of your veins as your heart pumps in your chest; that metallic earthy smell, like soil after the rain, and dew on rose petals.

Suddenly, you grow nervous.

He notices.

He tries to reel back, but you lock a hand behind his head.

Still, he tries, “you’re uncomfortable. I won’t–”

You’re excited. Your legs are jittery. The adrenaline rush is exhilarating, and sugar flows through your veins like hot ash.

Your skin feels set alight. You’re burning to the touch.

The scent of you is too much. He pinches his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to control himself.

“Bite me.” You feel his lips bump against your neck. “C’mon.” He lets out a stuttered gasp against your skin. “Do it.”

His will is not strong enough.

He wets his lips and they then part to allow sharpened canines to dot along the skin above your veins. He knows each and every path beneath your flesh. He knows where danger lies. He understands your fragility, for he was once the same.

He steers clear of the artery, as enticing as it is. It’s wrong; and he could very well hurt you beyond repair.

Your heart stutters when his fangs slice through your skin.

And it hurts. Of course it hurts, and Argenti knows as such. His other hand that is not trying to hold you still rubs along the other side of your throat soothingly. The pinpricks of his teeth are slow and deliberate. Perhaps it would hurt less if he was quick, but the sharpness stirs hot on your flesh anyway.

You try not to voice your anguish. Instead, your fingers curl firmly into his hair.

He lingers with his teeth lodged into your vein.

It’s uncomfortable, especially when you feel something hot and wet trickle from the puncture wounds and slip over his cold teeth, but you’ve never felt so alive.

His teeth pull away with a wet pop and you shiver.

You’re bleeding, rightfully so. It’s not a major wound—he’d never. You knew he’d never—but with how sticky the holes were growing, you would be convinced otherwise.

Gingerly, you felt a warm tongue swipe over the wound.

That hurt, too. You hiss then, and you feel Argenti wince against your skin.

The damage is done.

“I’m fine.” And you are. You’re practically jumping out of your skin. “Keep going.”

After a pause, his tongue cards once again over the fresh blood spilling from the wound. It doesn’t help the fire in your veins when he slots his lips over the punctured skin and begins to suck. The noises are alarming at best, and you can hear him swallowing.

It hurts.

But it’s good.

You stiffen in his hold.

Argenti stops for a moment to pepper sticky kisses over your wound. You’re sure it’s stained in the shape of his lips. Stupidly, you giggle at the idea.

He continues to indulge and he’s slow. Maybe he’s hesitant, or maybe he’s savouring you. You’re not sure.

When you’re sure he’s finished, Argenti’s bloodied teeth scrape lower along your neck until his fangs sink into the junction of your throat and your shoulder. Somehow, it hurts more.

More bloodied kisses that make your skin stiffen. His tongue draws over your flesh again.

Both the wounds are still bleeding when he decides to add another to your body.

This one hurts even more. You can tell because his teeth don’t sink in cleanly. The other side of your throat has that arterial vein you know he wants to get to. You also know he wouldn’t ever. He’s inching dangerously close to it, though.

He’s sucking and sucking and you smell copper in the air and you’re stomach is churning and your neck is covered in blood.

Your hands slacken from around his head.

The fourth puncture wound comes over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter for a moment.

He’s not stopping.

In fact, he hasn’t even opened his eyes to check on you. He’s way too absorbed in your taste to notice your slackening grip on his shoulders.

His tongue grazes your shoulder.

“Argenti.”

He doesn’t even hear you. You move your hands to push him away, but your arms tremble. You’re growing weaker with every second.

Oh, God. This was a bad idea. You’re good at making those.

You hit his shoulders weakly.

“Argenti.” It comes out strangled and weak.

His teeth pop out of a new wound. He hums.

You’re already dizzy. Weakly, your arms wrap around him and grip loosely onto his clothes.

As sexy as this is, and because you feel like the main character in some cheesy vampire story, the stupid primal urges in your brain to survive shut down the idea of laying there, taking it, and letting him ruin your neck until you fall unconscious.

Argenti finally understands just how strong you smell and is horrified at what he’s done when his eyes finally refocus on you.

He lays you down properly on the couch and rushes to get a first aid kit.

When he comes back, he’s mumbling strings of apologies. He looks forlorn, because he’s betrayed himself, and you.

You don’t think it’s appropriate to comment on how the blood around his mouth is almost enough to make you jump on him. Only issue is you’re not sure your bones can support your weight at the moment.

The alcohol stings as he tends to the punctures, but not as much as his teeth did.

You sigh, but it’s happy.

Argenti looks at you. Guilt is smeared over his face like a thick paste.

“You look just as beautiful as the day I met you,” you murmur to him. Because that day had been a wild day. Not only did a giant man with flaming red hair stop to offer his sincerest compliments on how radiant you were—dressed in flip flops and pyjama pants because you were simply hosing your front lawn—with two squirrels at his feet and five birds resting on his shoulders.

If Argenti could blush, you figure he’d be bright red by now.

Instead, he lets out a shaky laugh. “You flatter me so. I know nothing more enchanting than you.”

The wounds have stopped bleeding now, and he makes sure to clean each one thoroughly. He expresses no concerns about a stitch job. You’re relieved at that one.

Weakly, an arm raises to push his hair behind his ears again.

That alone takes all of the strength out of you.

“You okay?” you ask him.

He looks confused at your question. “Fret not about me. I have had my fill. It is you who I’m worried about.”

“I feel alive.” It’s partly true. As woozy as you feel, it’s like warm sugar still lingers in your veins. “That was great. I bet you enjoyed it.”

Argenti’s grin turns crooked. “Very much so. Perhaps too much. I’ve hurt you.” His fingers rub over the tender skin surrounding the puncture wounds. “But, you are as sweet as I thought you’d be.”

“I’m so in love with you, dude.” Very appropriate thing to say. Maybe it’s the blood loss. Amazing pet name, too.

Still, Argenti flusters. He clears his throat for a moment and his fingers still around your neck. “Words cannot convey how often I think of you, or better yet how often I long to hold you.”

He behaves as if this is his first confession of many to come.

Oh. Your heart is racing in your chest.

Arms much too tired to move, you instead pucker your lips obnoxiously.

Argenti eagerly leans down to kiss you again. His lips are still bloody, and the scent and taste of metal makes your stomach twist for a moment, but it’s him. It’s him and how gentle he always is—and how can you still be so gentle when you’re enraptured in cutting holes into your partner’s neck? Beats you.

“Still so sweet,” he whispers against your lips. “Is all of you this sweet?”

You kiss his cheek. “Wanna find out?” You’re happy to play pillow princess for an hour.

Argenti smiles at that, but it’s cheeky. His eyes crinkle with mischief as he moves to your lips again.

#✦ ( love mail. ) #✦ ( anon. ) #( ANONNNN I LOVE YOUUUUUU. ) #argenti x reader #argenti x you #hsr argenti

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 23: Together

The members have been excited about Yoongi’s return since they heard the news. They’ve been eager to see him and how well he’s doing. Taehyung suggested a welcome home party but the rest of the guys agreed that Yoongi probably wouldn’t want them to make his return a big deal. Still they wanted to do something, so with help from Hyeri, they planned to bring dinner to their place to keep things low key.

Yoongi and Hyeri hit the road early in the morning and made it home by mid-afternoon. When he took his first step inside it was like he stepped into a dream. He’d only been gone 2 months, but he feels like it’s been much longer. The first breath he took filled him with the comfort that can only come from being home. He’s missed his home and the safety his heart feels when he’s there.

Before leaving, Hyeri made sure the entire place was perfect. No dish in the kitchen was out of place, no cushion on the couch unfluffed, not even a speck of dust on the tv. The place looks straight out of a catalog, except the random box sitting on Yoongi’s dresser in the bedroom.

“What’s this?” Yoongi asks approaching the unfamiliar rectangular black box. It looks big enough to hold a bottle of something and he’s trying very hard to remember if this is another hidden drink he had forgotten about.

“Yours,” Hyeri says gesturing for him to open the box.

“Mine?” He questions inspecting the box closer. The last thing he wants upon returning home is to find that Hyeri found another bottle of liquor that he didn’t remember he had.

The box is closed with a latch as if it were a treasure chest. Yoongi flips the latch and slowly opens the box hoping he doesn’t need to drive himself 5 hours back to the cabin because he got triggered 5 minutes after getting home.

However, instead of revealing a bottle of alcohol, the box contains a microphone. A black microphone that shines as if it were covered in diamonds, but isn’t. There’s an intricate holographic design of deep green vines with thorns that spirals up and around the entire microphone and shimmers when held under the light just right. At the bottom is a small heart drawn in the same color and holographic material as the vines.

The heart is very unique to Yoongi. It’s the way Hyeri draws her hearts when she writes to him. Usually in cards and handwritten letters she gives him on special occasions and sometimes for no reason at all. It’s different from the simple heart she uses in her autograph, it’s a heart with one side rounded like a normal heart, but the other side pointed like a triangle. The first time she wrote him something he asked why one half of the heart was rounded and the other pointed. She told him it represented them, Yoongi being the bold and brash pointed side, and Hyeri being the soft and more timid rounded side. Like the yin and yang that is the two of them.

“What is this?” He asks already making plans to never use another microphone again.

“A microphone,” she says shyly. “For you. I had it custom made for you.”

“What?” He asks as if he weren’t staring at the obviously custom piece of equipment in front of him.

“I had it custom made for you. The thorns are like…I don’t know, it’s stupid,” she says getting suddenly embarrassed by her thoughtful gift.

“No it’s not,” he objects. “It’s beautiful.”

“You think so?” She asks unsure. “I just thought a lot about everything we’ve been through. I love you so much, but you’ve caused me so much pain, so…the thorns are kind of like the pain. At the end of it is you, like you’re a rose. The most wonderful thing to me…but you hurt so much. I mean, at the time I thought of the idea that’s what I was feeling. Well I still feel it, but not as much as that time you know?” She’s babbling out of nervousness and she isn’t even sure why.

She came up with the idea one night as she had been thinking about all of the hurt she’d been going through. At the time she was only getting daily text updates from Yoongi but she wasn’t responding to them. He sent his usual text telling her about his day and how his session with Minho went. He told her that the conversation they had made him feel like he needed to apologize to her again for everything he’s put her through. He never stopped apologizing from the start, but this day he mentioned Minho talking to him about how his actions need to match his words and feelings and he got to feeling sorry. He told her he never wanted to hurt her, but he realizes that his actions tell a different story and that he would fully understand if she doesn’t believe him because he hasn’t given her a reason to trust his word anyway.

That was one of the moments Hyeri felt he was making good progress, but it still wasn’t healing her wounds. He was right that his actions didn’t seem like those of someone who truly loves and cares for her, but at the same time her heart can always feel the sincerity in his words. His message gave her the bittersweet feeling that manifested into this microphone design. He’s her beautiful, wonderfully sweet, caring rose who’s hurt her greatly the more she held on to him.

It didn’t take long for Hyeri to turn her idea into a design and find someone that could turn it into a reality. When it was completed she held on to it afraid she had made a mistake and wasted time, money, and energy on this when she still wasn’t sure she would be able to continue their relationship. Her anxiety grew more and more up until she saw him yesterday morning looking like the Yoongi her heart had been longing for. She felt better after their talk, but as they drove the 5 hours back home today she began feeling anxious again. She was worried if he would even like it or understand the meaning or even care. Up until this very moment she had been anxious about how he would react. That all finally melted away when he smiled at her and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I love it,” he says squeezing her tight and kissing the top of her head. “I love it so much.”

“You do?” She asks into his chest seeking an extra layer of reassurance.

“Of course, baby.” He pulls her back and looks down at her big brown eyes. “It’s gorgeous and I’ll never use another mic for the rest of my life,” he chuckles. “Thank you. For this and everything you’ve done. Sometimes I feel like you’re the glue that’s keeping me, us, together. You’re so strong and beautiful and thoughtful.”

“Don’t make me cry, Yoong-ya,” she jokes.

“I mean it.” He gives her a soft kiss against her lips. “You’re the best and I’ll make sure you know it every single day. This is the most beautiful gift I’ve ever gotten. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she smiles. Their lips meet for another kiss and the anxiety Hyeri had been carrying about this small surprise finally washes away.

For Yoongi this is one of the most thoughtful gifts he’s ever received. Even if she had only given him a drawing on a napkin with the same meaning it still would have been the best for him because it’s not so much about the object as it is about the meaning. It means the world to him and gives him the greatest boost in motivation. He wants to be the best person for her, it’s what a kind, caring soul like her deserves.

The rest of the members have been ecstatic for Yoongi’s return. They’ve planned a great meal with plenty of his favorite cuts of meat, his most loved side dishes, and his favorite dessert: a large embarrassingly decorated cake. They agreed to keep this low key with the at home dinner, but after some discussion the guys found it was almost impossible to greet Yoongi without doing something a little mischievous and extra. It just wouldn’t feel right to them if they didn’t.

Jimin was all too eager to take charge of finding the perfect cake. Not wanting to get a cake that was too obvious and could possibly tip off a baker with a much too suspicious request, he ordered a large cat cake similar to one Yoongi had gotten before for his birthday, but it’s about 3 times larger and is sitting on a larger piece of sheet cake with plenty of room for all 6 members to decorate however they want.

Jimin picked up the cake and the members all met up at his place to give it their special Bangtan touch. Equipped with various cake decorating materials provided by Jin and Jungkook, the 6 of them get to work. Jungkook used purple icing to write “I love you, hyung” on the cake. When Taehyung saw he got a great idea that they should all write “I love you” on the cake. He knows that would be the most embarrassing for Yoongi, though he’d never admit it to them. So that’s what they all did. In the end the cake was covered in expressions of love, many colorful Hobi drawn hearts, other poorly drawn figures by each member, sprinkles, strawberries, and a single tangerine from Jimin’s fridge used to cover up a spot where the icing pen chose to be uncooperative with Namjoon and unleash an explosion of blue icing on a corner of the cake. It’s the perfect amount of chaos to make Yoongi feel at home. They decided they would keep the cake a surprise until the end of the night. When dinner time came, Jimin kept the cake secure in his car while they all carried all of the food for dinner up to Yoongi and Hyeri’s apartment.

Hyeri told Yoongi the guys were coming for dinner so their arrival was no surprise to him. He’d been excited all day wanting to see his brothers. Just like with Hyeri, he’d missed them a lot during his time away, but unlike Hyeri his contact with them was much less frequent. Being openly and enthusiastically affectionate with them isn’t typical for Yoongi, but he almost wanted to run and jump into their arms when he heard the 6 of them come barreling through the door with their arms full of food.

“Hyung!!” Taehyung shouts being the first one inside. He puts the food he was carrying down on the kitchen counter and runs to Yoongi with his big boxy smile painted across his face.

“Taehyung-ah!” Yoongi smiles as he’s pulled tightly into Taehyung’s arms. Before he can say anything else or pull away, Jimin runs up and wraps his arms around Yoongi too.

“I missed you, hyung,” Jimin says.

“I missed you too!” Jungkook shouts adding himself to the group hug.

“Yoongiiiiii!” Hobi shouts wrapping his arms around wherever he can in the mass of 4 bodies.

“Ya!!” Yoongi shouts starting to turn red from embarrassment.

“Yoongi hyung!” Namjoon squeaks as he barrels into the group hug.

“Wait,” Yoongi laughs trying to maintain his footing.

“Yoongi my bro!” Jin shouts. “Did you miss us?” He asks adding himself as the final piece to the big Bangtan hug.

“Yes,” Yoongi responds still laughing his way through this embarrassing show of affection though deep down he loves the comfort his heart feels at the warmth of his family. “You’re going to crush me.”

“Good,” Jungkook laughs.

“We’re going to crush you with our love,” Taehyung teases.

“Yaaaa!” Yoongi protests again.

They all laugh and finally show mercy and release Yoongi from his embarrassment. There’s more planned for later anyway.

They all help getting the food set up on the table while Hyeri gathers drinks for everyone. They all agreed they wouldn’t have alcohol around Yoongi, so Hyeri stocked the fridge with sodas, juices, and teas for everyone before she left to get Yoongi the day before.

It looks like a holiday feast laid out on the table. Everyone digs in and instantly begins catching up on everything going on with them. Talks of solo projects, song features, and variety show appearances makes Yoongi feel like he’s missed a lot in a seemingly short time, but he’s happy to hear that everyone has been accomplishing great things. He’s even more happy once they start discussing group work. All 7 of them are eager to start their next era of music and touring and for the first time they feel like they can truly look forward to it without worries.

Everyone is happy and excited and once they finish their meal Jimin and Taehyung slip away to get the cake out of Jimin’s car. Yoongi noticed them sneak off, but Hyeri and the rest of the guys kept him distracted before he could question anything. When the pair return they carry the cake in singing “Happy health” to the tune of happy birthday.

“What…?” Yoongi asks as everyone else joins in and sings along. He notices the cake Jimin and Tae are carrying in and his cheeks immediately flush red.

“Our beloved Yoongi, happy health to you!” Everyone sings crowding around the table to see his reaction to their heavily decorated masterpiece.

“Why did you bring a cake?” Yoongi asks in embarrassment. “You didn’t have to bring a cake,” he smiles reading the words of love written all around the cat cake. “Guys…”

“Of course we had to,” Hobi laughs.

“What else did you expect from us?” Jimin giggles.

“Guys,” Yoongi repeats. He’s suddenly hit with a wave of emotions as a montage of his memories with the members flashes before his eyes. Each sloppily drawn “I love you” on the cake brings more tears to his eyes. “Isn’t this too much?” He chuckles trying to mask a sniffle.

“No,” Jimin smiles. “I don’t think it’s enough.”

“Stop,” Yoongi says trying to fight the tears.

“We love you, hyung,” Namjoon says.

Namjoon’s soft and rare show of affection finally breaks Yoongi. He buries his head in his hands and begins sobbing. The overwhelming amount of love he’s received from the 7 people he knows he hurt the most is just too much to fathom. He feels they should have given up on him a long time ago, but here they are celebrating his new beginning and showing him so much love. His shoulders bounce as he sobs even harder.

“I love you guys,” Yoongi sobs. “I’m so happy to have you all in my life. I’m…fuck why do you always do this to me?” He jokes.

“Because we love you,” Jungkook smiles wiping his own tears with his shirt sleeve.

“Stop it,” Yoongi laughs through the knot in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he says breaking his smile briefly then quickly lightening his tone. “You guys mean so much to me, I just…”

“It’s ok,” Taehyung says. “We’re family. We’ll always be here for you through the good and bad.”

Taehyung’s words draws tears from all of them, whether they were already crying or not. Yoongi feels so unworthy of the amount of love they give him, but each member can think of numerous times where Yoongi was there for them when they thought no one else was. It’s a touching moment that has all of them crying tears. Not tears of sadness and not even tears of joy. They’re all crying tears of love. Pure unfiltered love.

#bts #bts au #bts fanfic #bts fic #cross posted on ao3 #bts smut #angst #tw depression #bts fluff #tw alcoholism #bts angst #Yoongi #min yoongi #Suga #yoongi x oc #Suga x oc #yoongi au #suga au #yoongi angst #suga angst #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongi smut #suga smut #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #yoongi fic #suga fic #established relationship #idol au

[floorsauce]

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT SUPPORT AI ART, STORIES, OR MOVIES IN ANY WAY!!!

That being said, I was inspired by Blaze Animates's video of using AI to write a spyro movie better than what was released in the lost archives (which, wow what a doosie)

So, I used AI to write me a script for Cars 4, and uh.... it's something

#Pixar cars #Cars #Cars fandom #cars 4 apparently #i really want to see what miss Thorne looks like #lightning mcqueen #cruz ramirez #cars 2006 #cars 3 #racing #disney #pixar movies #ai #ai script #if yall want to improve on this you can #i just wanted a good laugh more than anything #also i wish it could've explained the outcast racers a bit better #and maybe thrown in jackson storm #cuz why not? #floorsauce #carsauce #aisauce

[starsandthorn]

i'm cheating [don't have arlecchino yet and am looking at her lines abt the harbingers through hoyowiki] and thank god the harbinger "i hate my coworkers" trend continues + yaay sandrone and columbina crumbs + her line about signora has me in shambles

#personal stuff #thorn plays genshin #i'm not looking at her other vls yet i just want harbinger lore #and AUUUUUGH. #REALLY interesting stuff going on here #LOVE the running trend of the harbingers looking at each other and going ''if you were not my coworker you would be dead by now <3'' #dottore especially. he asks her for ''reject'' kids and arlecchino goes i will fucking crazy murder you #and pulcinella as well. lines up with wanderer's line about him too #the tsaritsa being described as compassionate and kind by every harbinger and fatuus is soooooo so interesting to me #what was the line. she is a god with no love left for her people nor do they have any left for her? #and yet every line is about how kind she is and how kind her end goal is. hmm #columbina and sandrone crumbs <333 #COLUMBINA WEIRDGIRL HOURS <33 i need her to be strange and off-putting and unsettling and-- #sandrone being described as passionate abt her work and rarely appearing in public + the opposite of the doctor. yea #god i need to know what her beef with tartaglia is. wtf did he do. can she just smell the abyss on him or what #also reaally interesting insight into pantalone. like we've known this abt him but having it confirmed. augh. cannot wait to see him #really interesting that arlecchino has nothing disparaging to say abt tartaglia actually. #does he remind her of the other kids at the house of the hearth or what. #BUT YEAH HER LINE ABOUT SIGNORA. :((((. #signora i miss you queen </3 #just auuguugh rips and tears i love love LOVE seeing the different feelings the harbingers have abt each other it's SO fun

[reallyromealone]

Title: fated

Chapter: two

Fandom: JJK

Characters: Gojo, Geto, unimportant ocs

Fic type: series

Pairings: Gojo x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, Omega male reader, angst

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Gojo had been staying with (name) for a week at this point, (name) going about his day of without any care and honestly ignoring him half the time.

Gojo was still his... Gojo self.

(Name) Was watching his dramas on the couch as he made little plush toys for the neighborhood children, Gojo had gone out to do whatever... Frankly (name) didn't care and if Gojo didn't have the power to blast off the hinges of his door, he would have changed the locks.

Gojo had Geto send him a copy of (name)s information, everything about the Omega, hobbies and interests though Gojo ignored those as they seemed to be generic Omega things to make the thorn bush that was (name) seem more delicate.

(Name) Was interesting though from the other things Geto gathered for him, and something deeply interesting.

He wasnt blood related to the (lastname) clan...

He was a descendant of a notable figure.

Sakuna.

That would explain his defiant nature.

And then came his abilities...

Jesus fuck.

At that moment, Gojo knew why they were destined to be together.

If given proper training, (name) would be an unstoppable force and it made sense on why he was the diamond of his clan as Gojo was the gift of the heavens of his clan.

Their offspring would be a monster of power.

(Name) Was asleep when Gojo came back, the tv playing a drama as the Omega slept on the couch, curled up and cozy as a few crochet plushies scattered around him. Gojo felt the urge to protect but... He didn't feel love, he was always told that when you met your soulmate you would feel endless love but he just felt... Calm.

Like he did with Geto.

Carefully he lifted (name) and brought him to his bed, tucking him in.

He would learn to love (name) as his omega and (name) as his alpha...

"Work?" Gojo asked confused and (name) nodded with a yawn "of course, what do you think I sit on my ass all day?" Yup he could definitely see how he was descendants to Sakuna now, the white haired man chuckling at his omegas attitude, he definitely wasn't some weak Omega.

Gojo knew he would have to leave soon, he had work to do after all.

But he would be back, he had to come back for his mate after all.

They both had roles to play.

Gojo noticed that (name) always read slower, more intensely "oh.... They didn't see a purpose of having me learn too much, better a pretty Omega than one who could make their alpha look inferior" Gojo with his new knowledge of (name) knew that wasn't the full truth, they kept (name) dumb so that he couldn't be a threat like Gojo was.

"I have to go back to Tokyo tomorrow..." Gojo started and (name) looked up from his dinner "hm? Finally gave up?" He asked calmly and Gojo snorted "I don't give up, I just have to take care of stuff" he said simply and (name) rolled his eyes "it would be easier if you came with"

"Absolutely not" (name) didn't even hesitate to shoot that down, as he glared at Gojo "don't feel like you need to rush back" (name) said with a bland tone as he sipped his drink "ill be sure to come back as soon as possible " Gojo fired back as blue locked with (color) and the two glared at one another.

It took a month and a half till Gojo returned "what is this? You moving into the village or something?" (Name) Asked at all the bags and boxes that sat on his engawa "nah, Geto told me courting gifts are important" Gojo said and (name) looked a mix of annoyed and disgusted "you don't need to do that"

"But I want to"

(Name) Wanted to slap him, the audacity of this man.

Alphas were really shameless.

(Name) Barely glanced at the pile of gifts in his livingroom as Gojo made himself comfortable "so ya miss me while I was gone?"

"No" (name) said simply as he sipped his drink, already feeling a headache form in the front of his skull at the other "the house smells sweeter, you get a new air freshener or something " Gojo tried making small talk and (name) wasn't too interested "no that's just post heat smell, sticks on the walls for a while" this made Gojo freeze "your heat?" When was this?!

"Yeah, it ended the other day" (name) said like it was just talk about the weather, deciding to work on his crossword puzzle that was sitting on the corner of the table "why didn't you call me?" Gojo asked incredulously and (name) glanced up and glared "why would I call you?"

"Because I'm your alpha!"

"But you aren't" (name) argued and Gojo seethed, his Infinity getting a bit stronger and (name) was pushed back a bit, a slight look of fear on his face was enough to snap him out of it and a guilty look on his face "shit, I'm sorry" he was already fucking up even more and it hadn't even been an hour! (Name) Letting distressed pharamones slip out as he whispered "you make no attempts to be my alpha, ignore me for years and then you come into my life and make demands and claims... Then you use your strength the intimidate me... You are no different than the ones I grew up around" (name)a words were like a hot knife as he curled into himself.

(Name) Went about his day as if Gojo didn't exist, the Alpha having the decency of getting a room at the local inn though it was obvious Gojo didn't exactly want to do so but after the stunt he just pulled it was the smartest choice.

Though that didn't stop him from being excessive and clingy.

"Maybe we could go on a date tonight, what is there in this town anyways?" Gojo followed (name) around at work and the Omega was deeply embarrassed as people stared and whispered "can you not bother me while I'm at work?"

"I just wanna see what my omega is up to"

"Not your omega"

"Not yet"

"(Name)?" A voice called as Gojo was a bit annoyed that (name)s attention left him to some beta man who was the embodiment of the annoying boy next door trope "oh kei, is school out already?" (Name) Checked his watch and it was already 5pm, the store would be closed soon "yeah, gave the kids some fun in the sun before school let out... It's a nice day and all" he joked as Gojo dead stared him from behind (name) who paid no mind "that's great! It's too good of day to waste truly"

"Whose this?" Kei asked and looked at Gojo with a stupid smile that made the white haired man feel the urge to turn him into a fine mist.

There was barely any cursed energy in him, both Gojo and (name) combined had enough cursed energy to keep japan lit for a generation! He was weak, the lowest level scum cursed spirit could take him down!

"He's a creep who won't leave me alone" (name) said blandly and Gojo scoffed "Gojo Satoru, his fiance"

"Not my fiance"

"Not with that attitude" Gojo fired back and the school teacher looked between them confused before smiling "well it's nice to meet you Gojo! I'm Sato Kei!" He was inconsequential to Gojo, offering his hand to him but if he was to get closer to (name) he would need to get close to his friends.

"Pleasure to meet you" (name) huffed as they interacted but decided to take the time to return to his shift and shake the tick that was Gojo off him.

Gojo should had known it wouldn't be complete smooth sailing while he was here...

"It's always schools.." he whispered as he adjusted his eye cover and walked to the building where a cursed spirit resided, he just hoped he could finish the job fast.

Gojo didn't have a lot of empathy to those weaker to him, he didn't care about them.

But he did care about his omega, even if he didn't get why he did.

And telling (name) that his beta friend was dead... He never wanted to see (name) cry like that again.

#jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader #omegaverse #Omega male reader #Jujutsu kaisen omegaverse #male reader #x male reader

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔. . 𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔. . (𝒮𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒜𝑀𝒪𝒰𝒞𝐻𝐸)

coworker! scaramouche x f!reader ﾉ sfw content. ﾉ sfw + confession ﾉ modern au ﾉ coworker au ﾉ friends -> lovers ﾉ pure fluffy content ﾉ not proofread ! ꒰ᐢ˵´ ˆ `˵ᐢ꒱

i havent written something fluffy in soo longg . . i missed writing pure, soft fics . . art credits go to @/yakumon_ on tiktok ! ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

The night was still young, the hour only barely creeping into the early hours of the morning, and yet Scaramouche found himself already exhausted. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, the beginnings of a headache starting to throb at his temples. The day had been long, his work seemingly endless, and his energy was dissipating. He had a mountain of paperwork waiting for him, a stack of forms and contracts and proposals sitting on his desk, untouched, the documents left abandoned for weeks. The pile was nearly toppling over, the edges curling up, and he frowned, a look of distaste flickering across his features. His gaze shifted towards the window, the view overlooking the cityscape. The lights from the buildings stretched up into the sky, the city aglow, the sight captivating. His frown softened, the irritation draining from his expression, the anger melting away. His gaze swept across the horizon, taking in the sight. There was a sense of awe, a sense of wonder, a sense of pride, the view reminding him just how far he had come, how far he had risen. He was on top of the world, the world at his fingertips, and he had done it all himself. His accomplishments had been hard won, the climb to the top a steep one, the path to success a difficult one. But his efforts had paid off, and he was rewarded with a lavish lifestyle, a comfortable existence. Yet, there was one thing missing. Someone special.

He didn't know when it had started, didn't know exactly when his feelings had changed. At some point, she had gone from a nuisance, an annoyance, a thorn in his side, to something.. more. Her presence was no longer an unwelcome one, the sound of her voice no longer grating, the sight of her no longer irritating. If anything, her company was welcome, her voice a soothing one, her smile brightening his mood. It was a gradual shift, his perception of her changing. One day, he found himself looking forward to seeing her, and the next, he realized that he couldn't picture his life without her. She had become a staple in his life, a fixture in his routine, a constant, someone he could always depend on. It was an odd feeling, an unfamiliar one, but he found that he didn't mind it. He liked her, he really did. It had been a long time since he had cared about someone, a long time since he had trusted anyone, a long time since he had let anyone close. But he had fallen for her, became entangled in her, and now, he found himself in a dilemma. He knew what he wanted, he knew how he felt, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to admit it. It was frustrating, the feelings swirling around inside him, the emotions clouding his judgment, and the confusion was driving him crazy.

"Why is it so fucking complicated?" he muttered, the words spilling out.

He let out a huff, shaking his head, trying to clear his mind. He turned away from the window, the view no longer a comfort. He couldn't focus, couldn't concentrate, his thoughts always seemed to drift towards her. She was all he could think about, and he scowled, the feeling of helplessness irritating him.

"Fuck it.. I need a drink.." He muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He stalked towards the kitchen, his strides quick and purposeful, his footsteps echoing through the penthouse. He entered the room, his gaze sweeping over the contents. There was an array of alcohol, the cabinets and shelves well stocked. His eyes fell upon the wine rack, the bottles arranged by color and vintage, and he plucked a bottle from the rack. It was a red, the dark liquid swirling around the inside of the glass. He uncorked the bottle, pouring himself a generous amount, before setting the glass down onto the counter. He raised the glass to his lips, the aroma hitting him first. It was a deep, earthy smell, the scent rich and fragrant. The taste was full bodied, the flavor heavy, the liquid rolling over his tongue. It was smooth, the alcohol burning pleasantly as it slid down his throat, the sensation warm and comforting. He took another sip, savoring the taste, letting the flavor linger on his tongue. He closed his eyes, allowing the wine to soothe his nerves, the tension slowly leaving his shoulders. He leaned against the counter, his mind wandering.

"Y/N.." he murmured, her name rolling off his tongue. "Mm.. I wonder what she's doing right now.."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a soft look appearing in his eyes.

"I wish she was here.. I wish.." He trailed off, catching himself. "What the fuck am I doing?.." he muttered, shaking his head. "Get a hold of yourself.."

He took another sip, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass.

"..But I want her.." he admitted, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop himself.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, his breath hitching, his chest tightening.

"I.. I want her..?.."

He had never said it aloud, never voiced his thoughts, his feelings, but the words were out there now, hanging in the air, and they rang true. He wanted her, more than anything. He wanted her so badly, the urge almost overwhelming, and the need for her burned in his chest, the ache making him dizzy. He couldn't deny it any longer, couldn't fight it, couldn't resist. He was falling, falling fast, and he knew there was no turning back. Not now. His feelings were written all over his face, his emotions clear, and he couldn't hide it anymore. He had to tell her, had to confess, and the thought of rejection terrified him. But the thought of never knowing what could've been was even more terrifying, and he knew he had to do something. He had to risk it all. For her.

With a sigh, he drained the glass, his fingers tightening around the stem, the crystal creaking under the pressure. He placed the glass down, the sound echoing through the room, before striding towards the door. His feet carried him through the hallway, his steps hurried, his mind racing. His heart was pounding, his pulse quickening, his palms growing clammy. His nerves were getting the better of him, his anxiety spiking, the prospect of facing her nerve-wracking. He stopped in front of the door, the wood smooth under his fingertips, the handle cold. He could feel his stomach twisting into knots, the butterflies fluttering in his chest, and his breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes, steeling himself, before opening the door and leaving the penthouse.

After some time, he reached her apartment, the number engraved on the brass plate, and he hesitated, his hand hovering over the bell. The seconds ticked by, the seconds feeling like hours, the moments stretching into an eternity, and his apprehension grew, his fear building. But, his need for her was stronger, his desire for her outweighing his doubt, and he took a deep breath, ringing the doorbell. There was a moment of silence, a moment of stillness, and then, the door swung open.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide, a look of surprise on your face. Your hair was slightly disheveled, your cheeks flushed, your clothes rumpled. You must've been sleeping, he thought. You stared at him, your mouth opening and closing, before letting out a nervous laugh. He cleared his throat, the awkwardness of the situation making him fidget, before speaking.

"Um, hey.." he started, his voice low, his tone hesitant. "Listen, I uh.. I needed to see you."

You cocked your head, your brow furrowing, confusion washing over your features. He continued, the words tumbling out. "I know it's late, and I know it's probably weird, but I had to tell you.." he paused, swallowing, before continuing. ".. I-I like you. Like, really like you. And.. I just needed to get that off my chest."

His words hung in the air, the silence thick, the tension palpable. Your expression was unreadable, the emotions flickering across your face indecipherable. You were frozen, rooted to the spot, your body stiff, the shock making your limbs heavy. He looked down, his gaze dropping, before muttering, "Shit, I shouldn't have said that.." His face burned, the humiliation setting in, and he turned away, starting to walk off, his hands clenched into fists. But, before he could go, you grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He glanced back, your grip firm, your expression serious.

"Stay." You whispered, your voice soft. He looked at you, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes searching your face. "Stay.." You repeated, the words barely a whisper, and he nodded, his hand sliding into yours.

"Okay." He replied, his tone matching yours.

With that, you led him into the apartment, the door closing behind you. The room was dim, the lights off, the curtains drawn. You made your way through the living room, his hand still in yours, the floorboards creaking underfoot. You stopped in front of the sofa, your fingers intertwining with his, and you sat down, the cushions sinking beneath your weight. The silence was heavy, the quietness suffocating, the tension rising. You stared at him, your gaze intent, and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Scara..?" you murmured, breaking the silence. "Tell me.."

He looked at you, his brow furrowed, his expression thoughtful.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his tone confused.

"Tell me.." you repeated, your eyes meeting his. ".. tell me how you feel."

He let out a breath, the sound shaky, his nerves getting the better of him. "I.. I don't know.." he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know how to put it into words."

"Then, show me.." you breathed, leaning in, your face mere inches from his.

He froze, his body stiffening, his mind racing. His thoughts were jumbled, the feelings overwhelming, and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I.." he started, his words faltering. "Oh, god.." Scaramouche muttered, the frustration building. "I can't, I can't." He shook his head, the movement jerky, his hands balling into fists. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.. I've been trying to hold back for weeks, months, and now.." he trailed off, his gaze falling to the floor, the shame written all over his face. "..And now, I'm ruining it, aren't I? I'm ruining our friendship, I'm fucking it all up, just like I always do.." he muttered, his words laced with self-loathing.

You stared at him, his outburst surprising you, the sudden change in his demeanor jarring. You reached out, your palm cupping his cheek, his skin warm beneath your touch. You could feel him trembling, his muscles tense, his body rigid. He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, the guilt in his expression making your heart ache.

"Hey.." you murmured, your voice soft. "Hey, it's okay.." You brushed your thumb along his cheekbone, the contact soothing. "You're not ruining anything."

He took a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping, the tension easing. "Y/N.." he said, his tone pained. "I can't keep pretending, I can't keep lying to myself. I-I want you, more than anything." His hand covered yours, his grip firm, his fingers lacing with yours. "I know this is probably a lot, and I know it's selfish of me, but.." he paused, swallowing, before continuing. ".. but, I want you. And, I think you feel the same." He searched your face, his gaze searching yours. ".. Tell me, tell me if I'm wrong." He implored, his voice laced with desperation. "Please."

Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his voice taking you by surprise. You stared at him. You had never seen him like this, his emotions laid bare, his vulnerability on full display. He was raw, vulnerable, his armor stripped away. And, it was beautiful. You took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs, before exhaling, the sound shaky. Your heart was hammering in your chest. The feelings were mutual, the attraction obvious, the chemistry electric. But, the implications were daunting. You were friends, coworkers, and a relationship between you was risky, the repercussions potentially devastating. But, you knew you had to take the chance. The opportunity was too good, the timing too perfect, the feeling too right. So, with a nod, you leaned in, your lips crashing against his. The kiss was rough, the contact desperate, the need for each other all-consuming. His arms wrapped around you, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, the passion igniting, the fire burning. The moment was charged, the feelings intense, the emotions overpowering. It was everything, and more. It was perfect. After what seemed like an eternity, the kiss broke, the two of you breathless, your foreheads touching.

A tear fell from his eye. He was crying. You kissed his tears, and he let out a shaky breath, the sound filled with emotion. "You.." he started, his voice cracking. "You feel the same.." he murmured, his eyes widening, the realization setting in. "I-I don't know what to say.." You chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes, before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "You don't have to say anything.." you whispered, your smile warm. He smiled back, the sight making your heart skip a beat, and he pulled you into a hug, his arms encircling you. You rested your head on his shoulder, the moment tender, the closeness comforting. It felt right, the closeness, the intimacy, and you sighed, the sound content. It was the beginning of something new, something wonderful, and you knew you were in for a wild ride. But, you were ready. You had been ready. After all, what's life without a little bit of risk?

With that, you closed your eyes, a smile on your lips, the love in your heart growing stronger. And, as the night drew to a close, and the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, you drifted off, the man of your dreams by your side. And, when you awoke, the memories of the previous night would remain, the moments engraved in your heart, the feelings lingering. It was the start of something special, the beginning of a new chapter, and you were ready.

You were ready for it all.

#૮ Ꮚ◞ ˔ ◟Ꮚა 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭 . .⠀˙⠀⠀꒱ #genshin x reader #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche fluff #kabukimono imagines #wanderer imagines #kunikuzushi imagines #scaramouche x you #kabukimono x you #wanderer x you #kunikuzushi x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #kabukimono x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #scaramouche #scara #kunikuzushi #kabukimono #wanderer #scaramouche x y/n #kabukimono x y/n #kunikuzushi x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #kabukimono fluff #kunikuzushi fluff #wanderer fluff

[rainyyynightssss]

Twisted Wonderland

Reacting to you trying to go back home

Characters: Overblotters

Notes: Yandere/Toxic themes involved

"Crowley thinks he might've found a way for me to get back home!"

Riddle Rosehearts

He looks at your smiling face and something in him breaks. He should be happy for you, he really should. This is what you had wanted from the beginning. To see your family and friends. To be free of magic and almost getting killed by overblots.

But you should've been happy here. He'd order his card soldiers to keep the rose garden in prim condition for you to gaze upon whenever you visited. The birthday parties always included a dish you liked. You got along well with Trey and Cater. Sure, Riddle was strict with his rules, but he grew more lenient with you. Surely, you could see that.

"That's wonderful news. And you're...happy to leave?" He tries not to let his voice crack as he grips one of the legs of the table they had just used to share dinner together. Apparently for the last time.

"Of course, I'll be happy to see everyone back home. It is a bittersweet feeling though. I'll miss you all." He chooses to ignore the 'all' part of your phrasing for a moment. You'd miss him and isn't that enough reason not to go?

"We'd all miss you as well....I, especially,-"

"But I think it'll be good for me to go and be back with my family, you know?" You add and he tenses again. He knows well how important family could be, and he also knows how burdensome they are. His mother forced him to adhere to strict guidelines, and while it shaped him into the respected house warden he is today, it also made him afraid. Terrified, even, that everything would go wrong if the rules were not followed.

Perhaps that's what you needed. A healthy dosage of fear and some rules to keep you in line. You were his perfect rose, blooming and unblemished. You had always managed to drag him away when he got too deep in his studies and talked him down when his face became as red as the flowers in his garden. But now your edges have grown frayed. You're trying to go back to your roots but he'd rip you out of the ground, thorns and all, to keep that from happening.

"Right. Well, it's gotten quite late and it wouldn't be proper for you to walk back to Ramshackle this late at night." He sensed your confusion even before you could voice it. You've taken plenty of late-night walks before and this would hardly be on the top list of most dangerous things you've done at the school.

"I can walk back-"

"I insist. I couldn't let you go...to your dorm! This late." Riddle shakes his head and covers his blushing face with a hand as he stands up from the table. "I have a room for you. If you'll take it?" He offers his hand to you, hoping you will miss the small trembles.

You smile at him again and take his hand, sending warmth even through his gloves.

"Just for tonight." You nod. Riddle gives you a small, though tight at the ends. His rose didn't need to know about the details of their stay, only that it was going to last longer than they thought.

"Of course. Although I must make sure you have an adequate stay. Rules indicate that guests should have the most hospitable experience, no matter how long that takes to fulfill." Riddle answers with ease and you see nothing wrong with it. His rose would blossom even more under his careful watch.

Leona Kingscholar

"And?"

The notion of you leaving was laughable to him. You had already managed to barge your way into his life, ruining his plans at the Spelldrive competition, ruining his nap routines, and ruining his pride as a prince. And he wouldn't have it any other way. Though the latter is still mostly kept intact.

You look at him, seemingly flabbergasted by his dismissal.

"And...that means I'll likely be leaving soon." You tell him. He sees your small frown. You must think he doesn't care that you're leaving. But it was quite the opposite. As much as he would never admit it to himself, he cares so much that he denies any possibility of it happening. He knows you don't actually want to leave.

Leona watches you sit up from his bed that both of you had been lying in for the past few hours. He grasps your wrist before it can leave the sheets. His grip is tighter than usual. Leona had always been like that. He demanded respect and expected you to follow. You, of course, were not so willingly submissive to him but that made it all the more fun for him to make you.

"Ruggie isn't going to be back 'till later tonight. I've got more sleep to catch up on. Especially after you bothered me last night." Leona tugs your wrist to bring you back closer to him while he rests his other arm under his head.  Last night you had came to him, clearly anxious about something and didn't want to be alone. Anyone else he would have turned away with a scoff, but he's found over time that he has a hard time refusing you. As long as it didn't involve you trying to run away from him.

"Are you even listening to me?" You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks.

"I have and it sounds like a buncha nonsense. Go back to sleep and maybe you'll forget your dumb ideas in the morning." Leona grumbles and pulls you to his chest. He hears you huff but you don't resist, lying back down beside him. He doesn't know exactly why you're having these kinds of thoughts but it doesn't really matter to him. If you want to run, he is glad to give his precious prey a chase.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul's hands freeze in the air, his fork and knife about to cut into the juicy salmon that had been plated beautifully in front of him. He glances up at you, his smile also frozen on his face, as you were just talking about how much you enjoyed Night Raven College and the Mostro Lounge. All until you abruptly switched to this topic he thought he was doing a good job at evading.

"Ah, isn't that...delightful?" His words would have come off as calm to anyone else, but you notice the slight strain in his voice. You always seem to see right through him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Upset me? No, quite the contrary. I think it's wonderful the headmaster has finally secured your passage back home." Azul muses and goes back to cutting his salmon, though it's obvious that his cuts are a bit more jagged.

"Yes... he said it could be any day now." You respond carefully. You try to offer him a smile as you take another sip of the drink he gave you on the house. He could see the small ounce of hope in your eyes of going back to your world. That wouldn't do.

"Is that so?" Azul takes a bite of his food, swallowing before adding, "It's really too bad you won't be able to go then." He continues eating, ignoring your confused eyes as if he didn't just say the strangest thing.

"Why wouldn't I be able to go?" You ask slowly. "I mean, the transportation might be difficult but-"

"It has been a while so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you forgot." Azul sighs and dabs his face free of any smudges with his napkin. "You may not step out of the bounds of Night Raven College by any means, including the Dark Mirror."

"According to who?" You let out a disbelieving laugh.

"According to Article 3 Section 5 of the contract you signed." Azul takes another bite of the salmon, not letting himself react when you slam a hand on the table.

"What contract?! I never signed anything!" You snapped. He remains as calm as ever. This time, you couldn't read him, couldn't even see his eyes through the glint in his glasses.

"You must remember when you agreed to work in the Mostro Lounge for a couple months. I had you sign an employment contract. I warned you about reading it through to the end. A suggestion I don't give to most poor, unfortunate souls in this school." Azul answers.

He did indeed give you the small packet to look through and recommended reading it all. It wasn't his fault that Floyd made a commotion in the kitchen just as you started reading the end portion. Azul urged you to sign it while he dealt with the mess that Floyd undoubtedly caused and you did, just missing the statement that required you to be on-call even after your employment ended, and being on-call meant you always had to be within a certain range of the lounge.

"You can't be serious." You utter quietly with wide eyes, realizing exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm afraid I am. But don't fret too much. I think you'll come to like it here." Azul smiles again. A smile that's hardly recognizable.

He watches you jump up from the table and storm out of the lounge, passing confused customers who glance back at him. He takes a drink from his glass. Azul isn't worried about you walking out. You couldn't leave here, leave him, anyway. And if you tried to hide from him, he would just send Jade and Floyd to hunt you down. You have become one of his prized possessions, and he isn't going to let you go that easily.

Jamil Viper

"Really? It's about time." Jamil comments as he starts chopping the vegetables you prepared in a bowl.

He had invited you to try some new recipes with him that he'd then distribute to the Scarabia students. For the past few months, you had been inviting yourself into their kitchen, much to Jamil's annoyance. You always offered to help him and he always declined, especially when it came to Kalim's meals. He was not going to lose his job over a pretty face. You respected his refusals but you still liked to watch him for some odd reason. Today, he finally decided to let you help him.

He appears to be half paying attention to your words while you're stirring the stew. "Haven't you been waiting a while?"

"I have. Crowley's been pushing off researching but I finally made him go through with it!" You look quite proud of yourself and if Jamil wasn't so irritated, he might have thought it was cute.

He simply hums in response and continues swiping his blade through the onion, each cut sharper than the next. He should be fine with you leaving. People come and go, after all. It would make things easier for him as well. He would stop getting distracted so easily, riddling his fingers with knicks from the blade when his thoughts drifted off to you.

"Kalim also promised to help me pack my stuff. He's eager for me to see my family." He sees you smile absentmindedly as you stir. Jamil's hand clenches tighter on the knife.

"Of course he did." He mutters to himself. Kalim got everything we wanted, didn't he? He got the wins, the praise, the Housewarden title. And now he was going to send you off. Jamil bet he was even encouraging you to go and like always, Jamil would just have to accept it. Only this time, he wouldn't. Jamil never got anything he could have to himself, always having to share with Kalim. You would be the one thing he could keep just for him.

"That reminds me, I needed to ask you something," Jamil says and you look back at him. He takes a step closer to you and leans forward, whispering the name of his unique magic. His lips widen into a smirk as he watches your irises fade to red.

"You'll be staying here, won't you?"

Vil Schoenheit

He raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as he works to pluck yours with tweezers.

"Hm? That's not the line, darling," Vil says. In your hands is the large packet of paper that contains Vil's script for his upcoming film. He had asked you to practice lines with him. You agreed and in exchange, you asked him to put some makeup on you. It was something he's been wanting to do anyway so he obliged. All was going well until you dropped this bombshell on him.

"I know, I was trying to figure out how to tell you and I accidentally just blurted it out," You sigh.

"Mhm. And Crowley has- Close your eyes, now - provided a way for you to get back home safely?" Vil asks as he moves on to your eyes, brushing an eye shadow across your lids that matches your skin.

"I don't know if anything about that man is safe, per say, but he did seem pretty confident about this." You respond as you keep your eyes closed for him. Vil shakes his head with a small 'tut'. The headmaster didn't exactly have a track record for reliability. He voiced exactly this to you.

"Crowley may just end up sending you on a one-way ride to nowhere. There's no telling where he could send you, why not wait for a few trial runs?" He places a hand under your chin. "And besides, why do you need to go home so badly?" Vil puts the palette back down and takes a tube of lipstick in his hand.

"Well, I want to see my fam-" You're forced to stop talking until he finishes applying the lipstick, "I want to see my family and finish everything I had going on there."

"If that's the case, I don't see what you could do back home that you're unable to here. And if you want to see your family, shouldn't you make sure your travel is safe so you can get back to them in the first place?" Vil questions as he wipes the small smudge of lipstick from the bottom of your lip with his thumb.

"That's...true." You nod reluctantly. Vil smirks a bit as he moves his hand towards the back of your neck, his thumb tilting your head up so you can look at him properly.

"Correct. And if I'm not mistaken, you've built quite the life here, haven't you?" He watches you slowly nod and he soothes the back of your neck with gentle fingers.

"You really want to throw that all away?" Vil looks down at you with questioning eyes even though he already knows the answer. You shake your head.

"No...but I also know that's something I'll have to do if I want to go home." You tell him firmly. Vil lets out a sigh and turns away from you for a moment.

"If you say so, but at least let me leave you with a parting gift." He turns back towards you and presents a small perfume bottle with a fancy font across the lid that you can hardly. It would no doubt cost hundreds in the market.

"My own creation that I've been working on. You're the first to have it." Vil says as he hands it over. You take it with a bright smile.

"Thank you! I'll try it on as soon as I get back to Ramshackle." You respond excitedly as you move to stand up from his makeup chair but he places a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I'd like to hear your critique as soon as possible. You are my perfect model, after all." He says with a glint in his eyes. You didn't seem to have any problem with that and sprayed a few spritz of the perfume on yourself, promptly passing out in the chair. You would get it through your head eventually that you belong here. You just need a little more convincing.

Idia Shroud

"Hold up, what?"

Your sudden words caused him to press the wrong button and his character gets brutally killed by one of the forest monsters in the game. You wince and put down your controller, turning towards him on his remarkably soft couch.

"Yeah...sorry to tell you so late but it looks like it could be soon." You say and Idia tosses his controller to the side, facing you as well.

"So you're gonna go? Just like that?" He asks in shock. You only recently just started playing video games with him in his room. Before, you had to practically beg him just to play a game with you when you were both in different dorms. It took a lot of convincing but he soon gave in after some persuasion from his brother. Once, you showed up to his room to see if you could play in person and he stared at you with wide eyes for about five seconds before slamming the door in your face, apologizing later over text.

He was unbearably anxious around you at first but he got used to the idea that you wouldn't judge him so easily. So he showed you another side, his more competitive and ill-mannered side to see if that would make you go away. And you still didn't. You instead embraced him for it. So why now were you just going to forget about all that?

"I-I mean I have to," You were clearly caught off guard by the intense look in his eyes, "I have a home and a family and friends-"

"Yeah, yeah, sure but what about everything you have here?" Idia insists.

"Everything I have here?" You ask.

"Y-Yeah, those first years, Grim, your dorm, me- many other things!" He stammers out. It would be way too cringe to mention himself deep down he hopes he's one of the things that could keep you here.

"Of course I'll miss everyone, but I miss everyone back home too," You say. Idia sighs deeply as he throws his head back on the couch.

"You're reallly set on this, huh?" Idia asks. You bite your lip and nod.

"But I still-" You try to add but he cuts you off.

"No, I get it. I wouldn't wanna be around me either." Idia sighs again. You look at him with wide eyes and fervently shake your head.

"No, it's not like-"

"You must have better friends back home if you're so desperate to see them again." He adds as he looks away with a frown. You don't notice him peeking back at you. You sigh and tilt your head so you can fully meet his gaze.

"Look, I'll talk to Crowley, see if he can push it back a bit." You tell him. He looks at you curiously.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna pressure you if-"

"No, it's okay. I want to spend more time with you and everyone anyway." You give him a small smile and he smiles back. He could play the pity card all day if it meant you'd stay.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus pauses in his steps, looking at you with a wide, curious gaze.

"You're leaving?" He utters. The two of you had been enjoying your nightly walks together back to Ramshackle. After one too many fights and attacks happening after hours on campus, he thought it best to escort you back home. He could easily teleport you both back to your dorm, but it gave him a good excuse to be around you more.

"Yes, hopefully it'll be soon. I'm excited to go back!" You smile enthusiastically and Malleus can only offer a grimace back.

"I suppose you could say I'm a little surprised. I thought you were happy here. Did I assume wrong?" He asks as he continues walking you to your dorm. Normally you would have never been able to keep up with his pace but he always kept a slower one for you.

"Oh no, I am happy here. My friends have been wonderful and I'm glad I'm friends with you. There's just some things I could do without." You mention offhandedly as you gaze up at the moon. He looks down to see it reflected in your eyes. The moon is wondrous but all he can see are the eyes that pinned a man who could never yield so deeply. You managed to befriend a dragon who is intimidating in every manner. That kind of connection isn't so flimsy that it could be dismissed by thoughts of departure.

"Things such as what?" Malleus perks up at the idea of solving one of your problems. As powerful as he is, there are a number of things he can't help you with. He couldn't do anything about your assignment getting deleted after your internet 'crashed' or about the friendship problems you once had with the Heartslabyul boys, but he's always eager to listen, just as you always do with him.

"It's just some rowdy guys from Savanaclaw who are still mad about the Spelldrive competition. They've been bothering me a bit but it's not a big deal." You tell him and he stops the both of you this time with a hand on your shoulder.

"Bothering you? For how long?" Malleus didn't mean to turn his hard glare on you but he couldn't help the fury building up inside of him. Many of the students already noticed your looming shadow that often followed you around like a lost puppy, which was usually enough to keep them from trying anything. Malleus isn't naive enough to believe that students at this school are always on their best behavior when he has his own business to deal with in the Diasomnia dorm. However, he swiftly and discretely took care of any nuisances that he happened to notice. He didn't think you were keeping anything from him.

"Like I said, it's not-" You try to soothe him but his glare only hardens.

"For how long?" Malleus repeats and he doesn't plan to a third time.

"For about a month now...but I can handle it myself!" You insist but he ignores the latter half of your sentence as his face morphs back into a gentler one.

"So that's what's been burdening you? I wish you'd have told me sooner but it's no matter. I'll take care of it." Malleus assures you.

"I mean that's one thing, but I have other reasons-" He cuts you off with a pat on your head as the two of you stop in front of Ramshackle's doors.

"You don't have to ruminate on it any longer. Do try to tell me about any other troublesome students in the future. I'll handle them and anyone else who tries to ruin your happiness here at Night Raven College." He vanishes in a flurry of lights before you can say a word. Any serious notion of you leaving is unthinkable to him, and if you do come up with more reasons, he'll make sure to take care of those as well.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #yandere

[gfguren]

pro hero!bakugou x sidekick!reader | fluff, mutual pining, blatant flirting, bakugou calls reader darlin', bakugou is soft(ish) | cw: injury, mentions of alcohol, name calling (idiot), kisses kisses kisses

-bakugou tends to your injury, pining for you nearly as much as you do for him-

Your arm burns in waves, like kindling fire, the plain between your elbow and wrist a bramble of red and purple. It stings like a million tiny thorns pricking your skin.

"Why'd ya get in the way, idiot!" Bakugou's words are fierce and his brow is drawn, but you see the way his cheeks flush. He's embarrassed, guilt-ridden though it's not his fault. Not really.

You were both too overzealous for your own goods, determined to land the final blow on the villains. But his quirk was bigger, more explosive, harder to stop when your hands inevitably collided. You're just lucky your arm took the brunt of it.

Still, you smile despite the pain and his frown deepens, "What? Ya hit yer head too?"

You take a step forward, then two, crossing the threshold of your front door, reveling in the way his blush travels to his ears. "Did you come all the way here just to nag me?" There's a lilt of amusement in your voice, and he huffs, exasperation on his breath. "Or are you finally gonna give me that?"

You point to the bag dangling from his fingertips, pharmacy label half hidden by his baggy combat trousers. He's still in costume, mask pushed up over his wild, blonde hair, light sheen of sweat dotting his forehead and shoulders.

He's a proper distraction from the pain at least.

His gaze falls to his own hand, as if he'd entirely forgotten. There's a palpable moment of hesitation, and then he grunts, knuckles clenching; he thrusts it against your chest.

"Did'ya sterilize it, at least?"

You're half listening, shuffling through the contents of the bag. "Mhm, rinsed it with water when I got home."

"Yer hopeless, darlin'."

You shrug, "If a little burn could take me out, I wouldn't be much of a hero, now would I?"

He snorts, "If ya were such a good hero, you'd have dodged in the first place."

"You think?" You humor his attitude, heart swelling in your chest when you spot your favorite candy hidden beneath the ointments and bandages. You have half a mind to tease him about it. "Are you gonna help me put this on?"

His arms fold across his chest, half a scowl twisting his face. He leans back, tapping a heavy boot against the floorboards. "And why would I do that?"

He must think he's subtle but you read him like a book, finger the pages, read between the lines. There's worry in his brow, guilt, turmoil, anger directed at his own self.

You figured it would help alleviate his conscience, at least.

"That's fine. I'll get around to it eventually." You turn on your heel, adding a cheeky "probably" to accentuate the wave of your hand, nudge him into action. It works.

Warm fingers encircle your wrist and you bite your tongue, suppress the laugh inching it's way up your throat. Predictable, cute. It takes everything in you not to grin.

Two big hands push you down by the shoulders, cushions folding beneath your thighs. Bakugou holds a palm out expectantly and you place your own atop his, reveling in the way his nose scrunches in frustration.

You don't miss the way he lets it linger - just for a moment - before finally swatting it away with a half-hearted flick of the wrist. "The ointment, idiot."

You relent, handing him the thin white tube. He spreads a stripe down his fingertips, seat dipping beside you; he extends his opposite hand. "Now your hand."

You grin, fingers gently curling around his own. It's not meant to be romantic, the way he draws you forward, presses your knuckles to his chest. He's just trying to get a better look at the wound, head tilting this way and that. But his hand is so warm, and he's so pretty from this angle, and when his eyes rise to meet yours his breath hitches in his throat; and so does yours.

It's intimate, familiar.

It makes you want to break whatever this unspoken 'something' is that the two of you have fostered - this growing affection you're both too proud to admit that wears on you, leaves you yearning to lean just a little closer and finally concede.

Just like all those nights ago, when he got a little too drunk at the hero convention, quickly annoyed by the crowds and reporters, the loud, boasting heroes. His champagne glass was quickly emptied once more, grunting when he pushed back in his chair. You remember leaning closer, close enough to discretely ask if he was alright. His red hot stare followed, burned through your chest and down to your core, left you shifting restlessly in your seat.

The air was thick when he finally careened upward, swaying perilously as he took you by the wrist, led you up and out of the dining hall until it was just the two of you, alone in an empty corridor. You could still hear the echo of stranger's voices, but it didn't bother him, not when he crowded you against the wall, not when his big hand fell to the space beside your head, or when his face dipped to linger just close enough to have your heart beating wildly in your chest.

"What about the party?"

"'as boring." He'd replied, fingers 'round your wrist, lingering on your pulse; he feels it stutter beneath his touch. "Ya scared?"

You would be, should be, if it was anyone else. Big, leering, all rippling muscle and explosive temper - but it was Bakugou, your mentor, your best friend, heart of a hero and handsome as hell. You've loved him as long as you've known him.

"No."

He'd grinned, leaned forward til' his lips found yours, deeper, sweeter than you'd ever imagined, and gods you had, too many times.

"Good."

You're so lost in thought that you miss the way skin meets skin, thin buffer of ointment between you, and it burns - his fingers against your aching forearm. Your cheeky smile twists into a grimace and you can almost taste his guilt.

"Quit bein' a baby." Bakugou's bark holds no bite, touch softening until his rough fingers border featherlight. "Yer a hero, r'member."

You watch as he carefully applies the medicine, touch gentling each time you flinch until he's barely touching you at all.

"You've said that a lot today. 'Hero'." You muse. "It's usually sidekick this, sidekick that."

He shoots you a look before wiping the ointment from his fingers. "Yer my sidekick."

"Yeah?" You tilt your head, leaning forward to rest your chin on your unattended hand. "And what's the difference?"

He could answer you honestly, if he wanted. You're capable, brave, strong in your own right - beautiful to boot. You're the best of the best; Bakugou would never settle for less after all. Not that he was going to admit that.

Instead his lips twist in amusement, curling, lopsided, askew; you realize you won't be getting a straight answer.

"Ya should know by now when t' stay out of my way, is the difference." He pulls a bandage as big as his fist from the bag, pressing one corner to the flat of your palm, working it up and around until it reaches your wrist, and further still. "Was perfectly capable of handlin' it on my own."

"Seemed like you had your hands full with the big guy," you quip back, rubbing your thumb absently over the scratchy bandage. "Was I supposed to watch while the other one pummeled you from behind?"

He quirks a brow, you're not sure if he's annoyed or amused. "Woulda been fine. How d'ya think I made it to the top twenty, 've practically got eyes on the back of my head."

"You sure? Think I recall a time or two you've been whacked upside the head."

His eyes stray for only a moment, simmering up at you beneath dark lashes. "Think we might need t' get yer eyes checked, darlin', seems yer seein' things."

"Guess I need a hearing test too, since I remember you being a total crybaby about it."

He centers the tips of his thumb and pointer just above your brow, fingertips bouncing off your forehead, a tepid flick! and he's resuming his handiwork.

"Hey!" you pout, rubbing the offended area with your unfettered hand. "I'm a patient, you're supposed to be nice to me!"

"And who's fault is that." He grins, light and easy and gone in an instant, with a flash of realization, guilt that reaches his eyes and worries his brow. It's his, still.

You sigh, "Look at me." And he does, begrudgingly as it may be. "It's not your fault. I should have trusted you more. And you should have trusted me. We're both idiots so quit blaming yourself." You lightly flick his forehead in return; he doesn't flinch, eyes never leaving your own. "Finish the wrapping and we'll call it even, yeah?"

He grumbles something lost on you, stretching the last bit of fabric beneath your elbow and tucking it into itself. He turns your arm over in his palm, lightly, carefully inspecting it before leaning back against the cushions. You can feel his guilt dissipate, the stress in his shoulders slowly deflating.

"Ya hurt anywhere else?" His voice is low, quiet. He desperately hopes not.

You think for a moment, read his face, his body language, and then you're rubbing the space above your brow, faking a pout if only to lighten the mood. "Yeah, some brute bruised my forehead earlier, think it needs medical attention."

He crosses his arms, muscles flexing, brow tightening in discontent. "I'm being serious."

You struggle to suppress the laugh bubbling up in your chest. "So am I. What a devastating injury, I fear I won't live long." You dramatically throw yourself over his lap, knuckles laid flat over your brow. There's a conflicting look in his eye; you struggle to read it. "If only a big, handsome hero woul-"

You nearly miss the annoyed huff, the subtle roll of his eyes, too enamored in the way he encircles your wrist with one big hand, guides it to rest against his chest before leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead.

You're sure there's hearts in your eyes when he straightens his shoulders, hand still idle against his heartbeat; his thumb absently strokes the soft underside of your wrist but his gaze doesn't linger. A hint of a blush creeps up his neck, eyes fixated on the opposite corner of the room. "Done bein' a crybaby?"

You try and fail, miserably so, to hide the delight dancing in your chest and curling your toes. There's a grin splitting your cheeks when you sit up, face an inch from his own. "Mhm."

You can feel his breath, his hesitation, the slippery, fluttering feelings he's struggling to catch, and name, and put into words. He decides it's easier to turn his back to them, to you - again.

It's always the same song and dance, one step forward, two steps back.

He's up in a moment, fidgeting with his tank, his gloves, his mask, anything he can get his hands on. You sigh, pushing off the couch, taking one step, two, arms wrapping snug around his middle. "What're ya doin'?"

"Checking something."

"And what's that?"

"Whether or not you have eyes on the back of your head." He ignores your teasing, so you press a little further, tease a little more. "Either you don't," you squeeze him tighter, closer, smush your cheek against his back. "Or you totally just let me hug you."

He croons his head to stare you down, if looks could kill, you'd be very very toasty right about now. Still you laugh, hide your smile in the shadow of his broad shoulders, tip toe around him when twists around to face you.

Finally he catches you, two big hands clamped down on either shoulder. You wait for him to scold you, tongue between your teeth, bated breath in your lungs. But he only grunts, fingers curling around the base of your neck until he can slant his lips over your own.

You sigh, it's the second time Katsuki Bakugou's lips have been on yours. But they no longer taste of saltines, white wine, impulse or hesitation; it's not some drunken mistake or whimsy he'll pretend to have forgotten by morning. This time he's kissing you because he wants to. Because the feelings he harbors are just the same as yours.

And when he pulls away his red eyes have mellowed, a dull amber, an expectant cinnabar. There's a palpable silence, one beat, two, three - possibly. His impatience gets the better of him. "Well?"

You stifle a laugh, keen up at him, hands absently against his chest. "Well what?"

"What d'ya mean 'well what'?!"

What ever self control you had wavers, the incredulous look in his eyes sending you over the edge until your devolving into a fit of laughter.

"What's so funny, huh?"

"'m sorry." The laughter rattles you, chest like a suitcase too small to pack away the joy that fills you, spills over the brim in fits of laughter. It's infectious; Bakugou grins.

Your hands cup his cheeks. "You're too cute not to tease."

He sucks on his teeth. "Cute huh?" His hand cups your wrist, thumbs the bandage, careful, cute. "I nearly cooked ya and 'm 'cute?'"

You lean forward, bump your nose against his. "Mhm."

"There's somethin' wrong with you."

"Yeah, it's called the guy I like is completely oblivious and won't tell me he likes me."

"I kissed you, twice. If ya didn't take the hint, that's on you."

You're smiling when you press your lips to his - quick, tepid, chaste, and over and over and over again.

He breaks away, eyes full of suspicion. "What was that for?"

"What? Didn't you take the hint?" You slant your mouth over his, linger a little longer this time. "I like you." You kiss him again, again, again.

He snorts, palm falling to the small of your back, big hand heavy on your skin. "Point taken."

He dips his head low, kisses you, soft and slow, fingers flexing against your shirt, dragging you closer when you move to pull back. "I like ya." His breath is hot against your mouth. "Always have."

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #mha x you #finally finished the anime #now this blonde menace lives in my head rent free 😩 #if anyone was wondering why i disappeared for 3 months its the 6+ bakugou wips in my phone ☠️

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

What You Like

Marc Spector x F!Reader x Steven Grant • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Marc gets in his head about being with you, Steven talks him through it.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: There was a post about Marc talking Steven through his first time with reader, which I adored and couldn't stop thinking about. And then my brain went... but what if... the other way around? (I'm so sure I reblogged the post, or maybe it's in my queue, but I cannot for the life of me find it. Please if you know the one I'm talking about, let me know! I really would like to link it here. Also I'm so sorry I forgot who wrote it as well.)

Warnings: oral, fingering, so much swearing, some self loathing from Marc, I have used 'mate' far too much, as well as 'yeah?', kind of Marc being sort of into Steven talking to him, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2213

“She doesn’t like it so much like that, if you tilt your head to the side a little and-”

Marc snaps his eyes open and glares at Steven in the far-off mirror. “Fuck off.” He thinks hard, and Steven doesn’t have to hear him to read his expression.

“I’m just trying to help, mate.” He holds up his hands like all he had done is hold the door open for him or something. 

Marc glares harder, about to flip him off when you pull back from the kiss. 

“You okay?” 

Marc swallows, “Sorry, I, erm…” He hadn’t realised you’d noticed his distraction.

You smile at him and stroke his cheek. "You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you shift a little on the bed, giving him a fraction more space.

“No, no, that wasn’t…” he gives you a small smile in return and leans forward again to kiss you. “Steven, I need you to be quiet now, okay?” 

“I was just-”

“Steven.”

He tuts. “Okay, okay, I promise.” 

Marc inches a little closer, recovering the space you’d previously offered up. His thigh nudges against yours and you let out a little moan into his mouth as he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip. 

He didn’t know why he felt so nervous, anxiety like eels swimming in his belly, you were Steven’s girlfriend (and technically, his now? Or was that too forward?) you’d been in this bed, with this body before. And strictly speaking, Marc had looked in on you and Steven a few times in more… intimate moments. Accidentally, of course. 

This should be fine. Practically second nature. 

He tries to clear his head, to be more in the moment, and runs his hands down your back as he presses closer, leaning into you slightly to urge you to lay back onto the mattress. 

You move with him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him against you. Parting your legs slightly so that he can situate himself between them. 

He nips lightly at your lip, licking softly but confidently into your mouth as he just grinds his hardening cock against your core. Oh, and your barely muffled moan is delicious, the way you dig your fingers into his shoulders makes his head spin, if-

“Oh, that’s a good move. She definitely likes that.” 

“Steven! For fuck’s sake! I trusted you to be quiet!” 

“Sorry!”

Marc tries not to let the interruption show, but he jumps a little when Steven speaks and it’s impossible for you to have missed it. A small thorn of anxiety settles in his chest, piercing between his ribs. 

“Kiss her neck, she really likes that.” 

“Steven-”

“I’m just giving helpful tips!” He can feel more than see Steven shrug his shoulders. “You’re the one without any game.”

“Without any game? I’ve got more game than you.” 

Steven sorts. “Unlikely. When’s the last time you got laid? God only knows. I, however, had sex this morning.” 

“Steven.” 

“Just saying.” 

“Yeah, well, I'm gonna be having sex in a minute, so shut up.”

There was a moment of blissful silence and Marc let out a breath of relief. 

You hooked your legs over his hips, urging him closer and bucking up so that you could grind against him. The heavy drag of his jeans sending sparks of pleasure along your spine. 

He slips his left hand down, sneaking the tips of his warm fingers under your top and stroking at the soft skin of your side. 

“She’s ticklish there.” 

“Steven-”

You can’t help but giggle a little, squirming away from his touch and breaking the kiss. “Sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“You’re ticklish.” Marc finishes and you nod smiling. 

“Sorry.” You mouth again. 

Marc shakes his head and smiles as he leans back down. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” He moves his hand away from your side. 

He’s barely pressed his lips against you for a second before Steven speaks again. “Told you.”

Marc inwardly grunts, rolling his eyes as he kisses along your jaw to your neck. He nips lightly at your skin, before sucking gently.

“Bit lower mate, that’s the spot.”

Marc scowled but followed the instruction, hatching onto the spot Steven suggested and you moan loudly, arching your back off the mattress. 

“See, she really likes that. Now if you just move your hand down and-”

Marc clenches his jaw instinctively, letting his frustration bubble over. Unfortunately, your neck is still between his teeth when they snap shut. 

You let out a little gasp of pain and Marc nearly blacks out from panic, instinctively moving to jerk backwards and away from you. But your arms tighten on his shoulders, your thighs clenching around his hips. 

You whimper and buck against him instantly. “Marc, fuck, please do that again.” 

He relaxes, tension easing out of his limbs as he growls faintly and does as you ask. 

“It’s okay mate, really. She’s not made of glass.” 

“Steven. I’m fucking gonna-”

“Hey,” Steven protested, “look, I don’t mind when you’re watching us go at it all the time, yeah?” 

Marc flushed. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do. And don’t think you’re being sneaky about it either. I can tell.” 

“I don’t mean to, it’s just…”

“Just what mate?” 

“It just… happens.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

Marc stays quiet, knowing that whatever he says won’t make him look good. He tries to ignore Steven, to just focus on you. To grind against you just right. But he could feel Steven hovering just in the background. 

You run your hands through Marc’s hair, pulling highly as you writhe under him and he can’t help but risk a sneaky look up at you, at how your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes closed in pleasure and…

Was it real? Or was it just for show? Did you always look like that when Steven…? He thinks back trying to recall the memories of watching in as much detail as possible. 

“Marc.” Steven’s voice is soft. 

But he doesn’t answer.

“Stop getting in your head about it, yeah? She’s here with you. She likes you. She wouldn’t pretend to be into something she doesn’t, ‘kay?” 

Marc swallows, trying to take Steven’s words on board and calm his quickly spiralling thoughts. 

But it doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right, it’s all stiff and unsettled. Like his joints are just a fraction out of place. 

You can tell. He’s so sure that you can tell. Even if you are moaning and writhing against him, you must know. Must sense it. How out of alignment he is. How much of a failure. 

“Steven?"

There’s a fraction of a pause before he answers. “Hmm?” 

“What does she like?”

He can feel Steven’s frown. 

“What does she like? What should I do? You were full of tips a second ago, don’t lea-”

“Move your hand down,” his voice is a little softer than before. Compassionate. And Marc knows his emotions have bled through. “Slower.” 

Marc slowly runs his hand down your body, careful not to tickle your side, stopping just short of the top button of your trousers. 

“Kiss lower on her neck, just above her collarbone... that’s it.”

Marc feels a little warm at the praise, giddy even. 

“And just start to undo her trousers, yeah?”

He flicks the top button open and you whine, bucking up against him. You urge his face up with your hands so you can kiss his lips and slide your tongue into his mouth. A deep shiver runs along Marc’s spine, forcing his hips to buck mindlessly. 

You pull back for a second, just to lift your top up and over your head before dropping it to the side and his breath catches in his throat. 

“Trousers.” 

Marc all but jumps despite the soft tone of Steven’s voice and he quickly snaps his eyes away from your skin to focus on undoing your pants.

You grin at his eagerness and help him by wiggling out of your trousers and kicking them off your feet. You kiss Marc’s neck, your hands moving desperately to his jeans. 

“Touch her.”

Marc lets out a little moan as you suck on his pulse point. “Wha-”

Marc’s left hand moves under Steven’s control, slipping his fingers under the elastic of your panties and pressing two thick fingers inside of your heat. 

You gasp in surprise, your thighs twitching at the sudden intrusion, shifting wider to allow him easier access. 

Steven strokes two fingers languidly against your walls for a second, enjoying the little tremors and flutters before placing his thumb on your clit. “Can you feel that?” 

Marc nods inwardly, “fuck.”

“See how wet she is?” 

“So fucking wet.” 

Steven smiles, continuing the long, slow strokes for a second before retreating back and leaving their hand once more completely under Marc’s control. He falters for half a second before he quickly resumes the tortuous pace set up by Steven. 

You gasp and whine, flinging your head back against the pillow as you arch up your hips towards him, trying to buck and urge him to move faster. 

“Go nice and slow… yeah… like that…” Steven whispers in his ear and there’s something strangely comforting about it, something exciting at having him there, right with him. 

Marc bites his bottom lips between his teeth, watching your face with rapt attention. 

“Nice slow circles and nice slow strokes.” 

“Slow circles.” He mutters under his breath, almost inaudible. He glides his fingers back and forth, barely leaving you before pushing back in, revelling in the sound of your wetness. 

You buck and whine, grabbing hold of his forearm like you were hanging onto a lifesaver. “Marc- ah, please!” Your words are cut off by desperate half choked sobs. 

He continues to circle your clit gently, barely allowing any pressure so that you can only just feel the slightly calloused glide of his thumb. Your thighs started to shake, your movements becoming sloppy. 

“Take her panties off completely, yeah? She’s gonna cum in a second, you’re gonna want to see.” 

Marc obeyed without thinking, using his free hand to pull them down and groaning softly when you lifted your hips as best you could to help him. 

Fuck you looked so pretty laid out all before him- before them. 

You moaned particularly needily, already looking fucked out of your head and Marc hissed, unable to stop himself as he hurriedly leant down and flicked his tongue along your clit. 

Your little high-pitched cry made him go light-headed. 

“Fuck, god yeah, give it to her.” Steven’s arousal bled into his own, making him dizzyingly high. “God, make her cum, make her cum in our mouth Marc, please.” 

“Marc, oh god, please!” You whine at almost the same moment, your and Steven’s voice blending together in a harmony that made Marc’s dick throb. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth for a moment before running board, flat licks over it, continuing his fingers slow pump as he brought you maddeningly close to the edge. 

Steven moaned loudly, “fuck Marc, please, please, need to taste her cum. Then we can fuck her together, yeah? She feels so good, she makes the best little noises,” he groaned again, “she tastes so sweet doesn’t she?” 

“So sweet,” Marc mumbled against your pussy as he kept moving, kept sucking and licking and practically humping the mattress with his eyes pinched tight in pleasure. 

“Marc,” you whimper and pull on his hair with your free hand, urging him on, “you’re so good at this, so good, ‘m gonna cum-”

“Fuck, Marc, yes.” 

He couldn’t help himself, simply couldn’t. Found himself opening his mouth and letting the words spill out before he had even registered them. “Steven’s here too.” 

“Oh shit!” You gasp, your voice raising in pitch as your orgasm crashes into you, seizing your limbs in pleasure and whiting out your vision, before leaving you boneless and breathless. 

Marc stops moving slowly, trying to prolong your bliss for as long as possible. He bites his lip nervously as he sits up, your release and his spit covering the lower half of his face. Fuck, why had he said that, why had he gone and fucked this all up-

You smile up at him, still trailing your fingers through his thick curls. “Steven’s here too?” 

He nods as heat rises to his face. He stares down at your knee. 

“Look at her, mate.” 

He doesn’t move until you gently tilt his chin up with your hand. 

Your soft smile makes his heart ache. 

“I’m sorry…” he whispers. “Is that… okay? That he’s here?” 

You nod, your grin widening as you sit up and kiss him. It’s messy and deep, and Marc just melts into it. He whines against your lips as you wrap your arms around him, stroking your tongue with his own as you lick into his mouth. 

“Now, how about,” you say between kisses, your fingers tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt. “I get you out of these clothes and suck both of your dick.” You pause and pull a silly face at the odd-sounding, but technically correct singular use. 

Marc giggles and nuzzles into your neck. 

“Say yes mate!” 

“Yes please.” He mumbles as he sucks a love bite into your skin. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[autistichalsin]

*INHALES*

I don't like when people say Halsin is a "generic nice guy" or a "generic hippy type" actually!!!!!!!

Kindness isn't generic! Especially not in the face of trauma! It is fucking hard to be kind in a world that doesn't particularly reward kindness! It is REALLY FUCKING HARD to go through victimization like Halsin faced, rape and imprisonment and war and torture- and still come out of it with a big, selfless, caring heart! It is brave to be abused and then decide to be better, to make the world a warmer, kinder place in any way you can, and in fact to be so devoted to doing so that any shortcoming will devastate you!

Halsin ISN'T just a nice guy, actually! He is a sufferer of trauma, of PTSD and survivor's guilt and loss, who still wants to take care of unloved orphans. Who, in fact, sees their plight when everyone else, even his fellow Druid Jaheira is busy fighting the Absolute. Who wants to protect animals, and the environment itself, and everyone else without a voice, because it is the right thing to do, even if his past has been filled with people who had no interest in doing the right thing to him.

Kindness isn't boring!!!! People take being kind for granted because it's what you're "supposed" to do. And, yeah, of course you're supposed to be kind. But if you go outside and take a look, you'll discover that a lot of people stop doing what they're supposed to do the instant they can do so without consequence. Look how people treat service workers. Look at the rates of child abuse. Halsin says himself, a society should be judged on how it treats its most vulnerable- because a fair number of people who act 'good' are actually waiting for the right person to bully.

Halsin was raped and imprisoned for three years. He lost his entire family. His first childhood friend was cursed. He watched his companions die after a bloody battle and then had to abandon the victims of the curse to rescue the survivors who could make it themselves. He was forced into a leadership position he never wanted. Then, while trying to solve two problems, ceremorphosis and the shadow curse, he was imprisoned again and tortured. And that's just at the start of his part in the game, that's leaving out traumas that can happen to him in branching storylines like if he's Orin's prisoner, or if the Rite of Thorns is completed and he's locked out of his home forever.

It takes a lot of strength to go through that and not give in to misanthropy and cynicism. Yet if the player is an asshole and calls him naive, Halsin says outright- "I outgrew cynicism around the age of 200." And THAT is even MORE difficult than being nice in the face of trauma. WAY harder. Still believing in better after you've been hurt, victimized, abused? Still being able to trust others not to hurt you? It ain't easy, friends.

But Halsin does it. No matter what he goes through, he doesn't stop being kind and he doesn't stop believing that a better world is possible, and that he CAN make the world better, and that he SHOULD make the world better.

There's nothing generic or boring about that. It's a beautiful, moving trait. Maybe it won't resonate with everyone, and that's okay, this post isn't me saying you're "wrong" if Halsin doesn't resonate with you in any way! But he's not boring. He's not generic.

It's just that by definition, what makes him so special is so understated, so hard to understand unless you've had a certain experience, that it's really easy to miss the beauty of it entirely.

#halsin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

[writingforstraykids]

hiya! i now that i just recently sent in an ask buuuuut i had another thought so...

once again m!reader (with they/them pronouns) and chan are in a relationship. chan jokingly says that the reader acts kinda like a puppy because they wanna be around him all the time. reader gets a bit insecure and tries to distance themselves but chan tells them that he misses his puppy. basically kinda turns into sfw petplay situation where chan just had the reader sitting on the ground next to wherever he's sitting and just petting them and calling them his little puppy.

-🦖

I'm one day late (sorry again) but HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I hope you enjoy it🤭🖤

My little puppy

Pairing: Chan x m!reader (they/them pronouns)

Word Count: 1510

Summary: Chan lovingly calling you his puppy backfires as you feel insecure about being too clingy.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, little bit of angst

Chan had always found humor in the lightest things, the gentle brush of life that often went unnoticed. So when he started calling you his 'puppy,' it was with a soft chuckle, a twinkle in his eye that spoke of nothing but affection. To him, the nickname was a playful acknowledgment of how you always seemed to hover nearby, your presence a constant warmth at his side. It was endearing, the way you looked at him with those wide, eager eyes, much like a puppy might watch its owner—full of love, loyalty, and a desire to be close.

You, however, didn’t hear the affection in that nickname the way Chan meant it. At first, you laughed along, a flush of pleasure at the attention and the loving nickname. But as days turned into weeks, you started to wonder if Chan found you clingy, too dependent. Did he see you as a needy creature, always following, always needing reassurance and company?

These thoughts began to gnaw at you, and slowly, insecurity seeped in. You started to question every action, every decision to stay close to Chan. Was it too much? Were you smothering him? Your heart, once so sure of its place by Chan’s side, now hesitated, faltering with a newfound anxiety that perhaps your affection was a burden.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch watching a movie, Chan’s casual reach for your hand was met with a subtle withdrawal. Surprised, Chan paused the movie. "What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Nothing," you murmured, not meeting his eyes. "Just... maybe I should give you some space."

Chan was stunned. Space? Why would you think he wanted space? As he watched you pull away, a slight frown creasing your forehead, he realized something was amiss. This wasn’t just about tonight; it was something deeper, a shift in your behavior over the past few weeks. You were distancing yourself, and he hadn’t noticed until now how serious it had become.

The next day, you made a conscious effort to maintain that distance. You busied yourself with tasks and hobbies that didn't involve Chan, your interactions polite but lacking their usual warmth. Chan felt the absence like a cold draft, the lack of your presence chilling the spaces of your shared home that had once felt so warm.

After a few days of this growing distance, Chan couldn’t bear it anymore. He found you in the kitchen one afternoon, quietly making coffee. "Y/nnie," he started, his voice gentle, "talk to me. What’s been going on with you?"

Your fingers trembled slightly as they clutched the coffee mug. "It’s silly," you whispered, finally letting the words spill. "You always call me your puppy because I’m always around you, and I thought… maybe you were tired of it. Tired of me."

Chan’s heart clenched. So that was it. A nickname he’d uttered so fondly had been a thorn in your side, wounding you silently. He stepped closer, his approach careful. "Y/n," he said softly, "I love that you're around. I called you my puppy because it's cute, endearing. It’s how I see you, full of love and life, not something negative or clingy."

You looked up, hope mingling with the hurt in your eyes. "Really?"

"Really," Chan affirmed, wrapping his arms around you. "I didn’t realize it made you feel insecure. I’m sorry, love. I miss my puppy, but only if my puppy is happy being called that."

You nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "I don’t mind it if it means you love me being close."

"I do," Chan assured, kissing the top of your head. "I love it."

From that day on, Chan was more mindful with his words, ensuring his affection was clear in every nickname, every jest. And you learned to voice your feelings, your insecurities, trusting that Chan would listen.

In the warm glow of understanding, your relationship deepened, roots growing stronger and hearts growing closer. The nickname 'puppy' became a symbol not of neediness but of the unconditional love that bounded tirelessly between you, happy and secure in each other’s affectionate presence.

Chan and you had cultivated a closeness that, for the most part, felt like the comfortable warmth of sunlight in winter—necessary and life-affirming. Your relationship was built on the small moments, the insignificant rituals that, woven together, created the tapestry of your shared life. One such ritual involved the evenings spent together in the living room, where Chan would sink into the sofa, and you would now find your spot right next to him on the floor, leaning slightly against his leg.

This particular evening was painted in the usual hues of domestic bliss, with a movie flickering its light across the walls, casting large shadows that danced around the room. Chan, ever affectionate, watched more than the screen; he watched you with a softness in his eyes, his hand reaching out to gently stroke your hair. "Hey, my little puppy," he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.

The nickname, once a source of silent insecurity, had morphed into something tender and cherished. It had been a journey of understanding and reassurance that brought you here, to this moment where you could finally sit with the name, wear it proudly, because it was given in love.

"Hey," you responded, your voice a quiet echo in the spacious room. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, allowing yourself to drown momentarily in the depth of his affection. The insecurities that once clouded your perception of his words had dissipated, washed away by the earnest conversations and the patient reassurances that followed your moments of doubt.

As Chan’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your scalp, the room was filled with the comforting sound of the movie’s dialogue, a backdrop to the more poignant silent exchange between the two of you. His touch was calming, a silent communication of his need for your closeness as much as it was a reassurance for you. It was these gestures, simple yet profound, that spoke volumes, bridging any gap that words could not fill.

"I like being your puppy," you confessed, the words spilling out of you with an ease that was new and fragile. It was a declaration, a small surrender to the vulnerability that came with admitting how much his endearment meant to you.

Chan’s response was a soft chuckle, his hand pausing in your hair to squeeze gently, affirmatively. "And I love having my little puppy around," he replied, his voice laced with an emotion that made your heart swell. It was a simple exchange, but within it lay the layers of past insecurities, misunderstandings, and the beautiful resolution that had come from facing those challenges together.

The movie continued to play, but for a while, neither of you watched. It was as if the world had narrowed down to the space you occupied, a bubble of contentment that neither of you was in a hurry to break. Chan continued to pet your head, each stroke a line in the love letter he wrote to you every day with his actions.

In these moments, you found a profound truth about love and closeness; it was not about the absence of doubt or never feeling insecure. Instead, it was about the courage to voice those fears, to allow the other person in on your struggles, and to find strength in their support. Chan had seen the depth of your worry, the unspoken fears of being too much, and had not only reassured you but had also adjusted his own expressions of affection to ensure they built you up instead of feeding your doubts.

Hours passed, marked not by the clock but by the softening of the light and the deepening of the shadows. When the movie ended, the silence that followed was not empty but full of unspoken words and emotions. You both sat in it, comfortable and secure in each other’s presence.

Chan finally broke the silence, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to resonate directly in your heart. "Let’s not move just yet," he said, his hand resuming its gentle movements through your hair. "This is perfect."

And it was. It was perfect because, in that shared silence, in the warm glow of the screen’s afterlight, you both recognized the beauty of what you had. A connection that had grown stronger through vulnerability, a closeness that was cherished, and a nickname that had become a symbol of love—your love, unique and wonderfully ordinary.

As the night deepened around you, the world outside continuing its restless spin, inside your living room, on the floor next to the sofa, you sat with Chan, his little puppy, surrounded by a peace that was hard won and deeply cherished. In the end, the journey through your insecurities to this point of understanding had not just preserved your closeness but had deepened it, weaving it into something resilient and beautiful, much like the life you were building together.

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#stray kids #skz #chan #skz fic #stray kids fic #chan fic #bang chan #bang chan fic #chan x male reader #bang chan x male reader #stray kids x male reader #skz x male reader #chan fluff #chan angst #chan scenarios #bang chan angst #bang chan fluff #bang chan scenarios #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #skz scenarios

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2023, Day 6

Take The Time

Summary: Every morning you wake up from your worst night. The entire night relentlessly being chased. And each night your will to outrun him was waning. He didn’t seem so bad. And every morning you missed Bucky even more. He had been gone for so long, with no thought of returning. So why were you running from your nightmare? And why were you so so exhausted? When he touched you, why could you still feel it? And why was the rose he gave you now in your bed?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, implied non con (sleeping), chasing, stalking/obsession, kidnapping, brief bondage, voyeurism, unprotected sex, PIV sex, manhandling, taunting, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.7K

Previous

Series Masterlist

You jolt up in your bed. Chest heaving as you take short shallow breaths. Looking around to find you’ve managed to be in your bed. The recurring dream — nightmare leaves you feeling disoriented in the morning. Everything seems so real. And you wake up breathless.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you take count of your body. Things are sore. Like you had really been running. Had been chased all night by some masked man. You were running less and less. Slowing down because you wanted to see his face. You couldn’t tell if he was chasing you because he wanted to kill you or if he just wanted you.

He didn’t seem angry as he chased you. He seemed…worried. He was trying to warn you of something, but what? The only thing you cared about was finding where your boyfriend has been.

Picking up your phone, you make the same call as you do every morning. His best friend’s voice groans as he answers, “We haven’t heard from him. I told you I would let you know if there are any leads.”

“Steve, I don’t think he’s that far away,” your voice trails off as you look at your bedside table. A single pink rose and no thorns. There was only one person who ever did that for you.

Steve repeats your name several times before you realize he had been speaking, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Could you please answer me?”

“Steve, there’s…I have a pink rose, and the thorns have been pulled off.”

“I’m on my way,” Steve was well aware of Bucky’s favorite thing to leave behind for you. It was always a pink rose. Red was cliche, and harsh. Pink was your color. Delicate, feminine, sweet. And every time he painstakingly pulled off each of the thorns. No one would ever hurt you while he was around. Not even an inanimate object or a plant.

You walk into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror, you look like shit. A few weeks without sleeping would do that to you. You wanted to tell Steve not to come by. What good would it do? If it was Bucky that left that rose behind, he didn’t want to be seen. If it was someone else, Bucky no longer cares for your safety. Your will in the real world was dwindling just as much as your dream self. You didn’t want to chase for him anymore. You just wanted to know he was okay.

——

You turn to look over your shoulder, and the masked man is gaining on you. A few more strides, and he would be close enough to capture you. You pump your arms harder, and run just a bit faster. It is exhilarating to know that the monstrosity of a man was putting up such a fight because of you.

Reaching out his hand, you swerve out of the way before he actually touches you. Giggling at the fact that he missed. He growls under his mask, and it causes you to slow enough that he pulls you into his body with body arms.

“You’re not fighting,” his voice is deep on your neck, and your body goes limp. You shake your head no because you didn’t care. The thrill was now gone, and replaced with something more. Lust.

There is something in his voice that was oddly familiar, and your body craved it more than you did. “Mmm,” he sniffs up your neck as his hands roam over your body. Dipping lower, until his hands wrap around your thighs. Jerking them apart, and his hands fully explore between your legs.

“Heaven,” he moans, and you lean your head back on his shoulder. This shouldn’t be as comforting as it is, but you’re prepared to let him have you. It was only a dream after all.

He palms you over your panties, because of course you’re just running around in Bucky’s shirt and panties just like you went to sleep. Letting you get good and comfortable in his embrace before slipping off his glove. His nimble fingers move under the elastic of your panties, and you moan when he enters three fingers into your body.

Giving you no time to adjust before his hand barrels into you. You have to bite onto his neck the harder he pushes. His moans and grunts add to your pleasure.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine,” ringing in your ear.

——

Your eyes burst open, and you take a haggard breath. A deep soreness in your core. Your face has been planted in your pillow, and now you struggle to get up. How tense were you in your sleep to cause this much tenderness?

You whimper, twisting your body over, and there lies another rose. This time with a glove. Not just any glove. His. You aren’t dreaming. And you want him. But he’s not Bucky.

You cover your face with your hands allowing the tears you have held in for too long pour out. Rivers of saline drift down your face when Steve rushes to your side, “What is going on?”

“You’ve been here?”

“All night,” he looks to the table, and grits his teeth, “Son of a bitch. Where did that come from?”

“H-h-he had to have left it, but who is he? Steve!” You scream as he storms off. “Steve!” He doesn’t turn back to look at you. “Who is he?”

“I think it’s Bucky,” you shake your head no, but he doesn’t see. “The rose. The glove. I think we found him, but not before he found you,” he spins around to look at you. Covering your face with his hand when everything fades to black.

——

Groggily you open up your eyes, and try to move. Stuck. This isn’t a dream. This shouldn’t be a reality. Roses. Gloves. Bucky. Masked man. Steve. Tied up, and stretched out. What was happening?

There was no way to get out of your predicament. The cuffs on your arms and legs are tight. Keeping you wide and spread for whoever was coming in here. The good thing is you have clothes. For now.

This is so stupid. Steve did this. There is a weird recurring dream, and Bucky is still missing. But Steve said…Bucky found you. Lights turn on into your hellhole of a room and your eyes clench close.

The person in the room inhales deeply before your bed dips down with your weight, and you peek your eyes open, “Steve?”

“You know, you have caused a lot of problems for us,” he begins. His hand taps you on your leg, and you pull it back. Hearing a low rumble outside of the door.

“Us?”

“His mind is just too powerful. Your stupid fucking rose alerted me of just why he can’t complete a damn mission because he keep going to see your pathetic self,” Steve’s hand slams on the bed, and a feral scream echoes into the hall.

“Ahh, shut up! I am not talking to you!” He screams, standing up to open the door, pulling in the masked man, and you retreat away. Being tied up was the moving difficult. “See, she’s not hurt,” the man turns and glares at Steve, pointing a finger at your restraints. “She’ll run away.”

The man shakes his head no, turning to look at you with the softest of eyes, and you know who he is instantly. “What did you do to him?” You pout, and Bucky tries to step towards you

“He’s a weapon,” Steve shrugs his arms. “But you — you invade his mind so much that he can’t even be that. And it wasn’t until he left that fucking pink rose for you that I realized where he was going when he wasn’t on a leash. My god, I should have known. You have poisoned him from the beginning. But I am giving the two of you a gift. I am allowing him to sleep in here with you when his brain isn’t being turned into mush. And when he finally forgets, we’ll dispose of you.”

Bucky growls, pushing Steve up against the wall. His forearm presses into his neck, but Steve laughs maniacally. “I can make you watch as we destroy her. Loosen your grip,” Bucky backs away immediately, keeping a protective stance around you.

“Sweetheart, if I let your precious boyfriend have fun with you, will you try and escape?” Those crystal blue eyes turn to look at you with the most pleading face. He isn’t as vocal as Bucky once was. He looks scared, and you can’t leave him.

“I won’t escape,” your lip trembles. You wouldn’t escape now. But you’re also taking Bucky with you.

“Good. Soldier, have your fun. Pump her full of cum, beat her, fuck her until she passes out, I don’t care. You understand he might not be the man you remember. He’s a machine.”

Steve turns on his heels, walking out of the room, “And you’re a monster. Bucky?” His head tilts to the side as he walks closer to you. Gently undoing your binding, and you sit up in the bed to remove his mask. Your hand presses gently up against his cheek, and you sob out his name.

“I thought I lost you. Won’t you say something?”

He struggles to say your name, and you brush away his hair, crawling into his lap. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I got your roses. They can’t take away your heart, huh? Just your words,” his gloved hand pets up and down your back, and it infuriates you. “Take that off. I want to feel your skin.”

“Yeah — yes,” he says robotically, removing the material that keeps him from you. His hand touches your back, and you melt into him. He smells different, but that underlying musk of Bucky that was his natural scent is still there.

“Miss — you.”

“I missed you, too. Dreamed about you every night.”

“Not — dream. Me,” sitting back, you look up at him. Giving him the softest chaste kiss. “Me.”

“I did feel you. But you weren’t really chasing me were you?” He shakes his head smiling. “So I was dreaming, and you were touching?”

“Sorry,” his glove free hand pets up and down your sensitive neck before struggling to put it away. Bucky loved feeling his hand around your neck, and now there is a fear to touch you in that way.

“What if,” you lick your dry lips, eyes flitting around his face when you get the courage to speak. “What if I let you touch me? I’m not dreaming, or sleeping. I’m here. Apparently I am your toy to play with, so play. You…you can put me back in the restraints if you need to”

His brow furrows, and he shakes his head no. “You don’t have to hunt me. You don’t have to wait until I’m sleeping, I’m right here telling you I want you to have me. I’m leaving. But not without you. And…we’ll get out of this. We always do.”

Bucky lifts you off his lap to lay flat on the bed. Lifting up his shirt, he cheekily smiles at your covered core before rubbing the shirt in between his fingers. “Mine?”

You pull his hand down to your center. Letting him flatten his hand against you, “Yours,” a deep low growl rumbles up his chest, followed by a sigh. “It’s always been yours, Bucky.”

Sitting back up, you remove his shirt, and he looks over to the corner of the room, cameras. “Let them watch. I just want you,” you shimmy out of your panties, becoming completely nude while he is still in his gear. “However you want me,” you urge him closer. Taking off his other glove so you can weave your fingers in his.

Touch with Bucky has always been electric, and this is no different. He straightens up with your touch. Eyes opening up to show a bit more life to them. Getting to his knees, he undoes his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his cock, and you chirp at the sight of him.

“Yours,” he cocks his brow up, before using his thick body to spread you out further. Grabbing the base of his cock, he flicks your clit with his tip. Over and over again until you’re completely needy and squirming for him. Your arousal leaks out onto the bed, but this Bucky doesn’t stop. He wants to torture you with pleasure.

“Bucky!” Your fingers cling to his forearm as you urge him closer to you, but he still sits there flicking your clit, and teasing your entrance. “Bucky, take it. Take all of me. You already have.”

His breathing stutters, and your eyes blow wide open as he thrusts himself completely into you. Giving you seconds to adjust to his wide girth before he rails into you. There isn’t anything sweet about this moment. You’ve had sweet. This is Bucky reclaiming what was always his. Raw and forceful, and all James Bucky Barnes.

His hands slam above your head onto the bed frame. Wood splinters above your head, creaking under his pressure, but you only see Bucky. Much too dressed for your liking, but it was him. Powerful. Dangerous. Hard. But the softness in his eyes remains.

He is everything that you have ever wanted, and so much more. Even in this state, he is perfect. More than any man could ever amount to. He is Bucky. And he is yours. There is a fearful look on his face now. But he never gave up. He always finds you. He promised you he would, and he kept that promise.

Pulling himself out of you he wraps his arm around your waist, and forces you onto your knees, pushing your head down into the mattress before grabbing at your hips, and cramming himself back inside. You grip tightly to the sheets, centering yourself, and trying to remain present. This was always your favorite position. Letting Bucky use you completely, and it makes you a mess.

Squirting out how good it feels, and he goes harder. The bed lurches with every rock into your body. Eyes rolling into the back of the bed as you thank the stars above for giving Bucky back to you.

“And you think she is going to be the secret?” A man looks over towards Steve who was scowling at the monitor. He hated watching Bucky with you. He never deserved you. And no matter what he did, Bucky always found you. Desperation caused this, and he still found you.

“He’s not fighting anymore, is he?” Steve asks the man. Bucky just wanted you. You were his biggest weakness.

“Maybe he wouldn’t have fought, if you didn’t tease him. What was it you told him? You got to sink into her every fucking night? That you were going to breed her like your little bitch?” Steve shrugs his shoulders, trying to fight his impending hard on.

“I’m guessing you never got to fuck her?”

“It’s more complicated than that. She was only worried about Bucky. She didn’t even think about…I didn’t have time to try because that asshole kept needing to see her, and now she’s here, and…I hate him,” Steve grunts as Bucky smirks up at the camera.

Tilting his head back he lets out a guttural moan as he goes harder and faster than he ever has. Your body is completely flat on the bed now, trembling with pleasure as you look back at Bucky. He is different, and somehow still the same. He is enjoying himself, and your pleasure has always been his.

Hands hold tightly to your ass, spreading you apart so he can watch where the two of you connect. “I love you, Bucky,” your voice is barely audible, but he heard it. Crying out your name as he slams into yourself one last time before his thick cream paints your walls, and you moan at the warmth of his added seed.

“I love you, too,” such sweet sounds coming from him. Slowly he pulls himself out of you, and lifts up your ass, pointing to your gaping hole before looking back at the camera. “Mine. Not yours.”

“Who…who’s watching.”

“Him. Shh, go to sleep. Don’t worry. You’re mine.”

“And you are mine.”

“Forever and…”

“Always,” he would forever be yours. Nothing could ever change that. And nothing ever would.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @missusbarnes-rogers @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama @tittittoee

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x fem!reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x you #bucky barnes smut #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Prince x Witch! Reader

TW: Drugging (Love Potion), dubcon

Wanna buy me a coffee?: ☕

Once upon a time, in a land full of magic, a witch is in her tower stirring liquid in her cauldron.

"Ok, my seafood boil should be ready," You say, wiping the sweat off your head.

Your phone rings from the counter, and zap it so it answers the call.

"Y/N, we've gotta go to this ball!" Your friend, Ella, full name Eleanor Charming, exclaims, making you roll your eyes.

"Ella, just because your family has extreme luck finding love at balls, doesn't mean I will. Besides, I like living in the woods. The princess with powers and Eduardo are good friends. I babysit their kids sometimes, real firecrackers," You respond, tying your hair up. "Now, if you excuse me, I have crab legs to eat."

"Too late, I already magiced up a dress for you!" Ella exclaims, appearing behind you. "Boom!" 

White light hits you, and suddenly, your comfy purple pajamas are replaced with a long, purple ball gown with black lace covering the front. You have long, black latex gloves and thigh-high high-heel shoes swirling around your legs made from crystal. Your hair is in a bun and is held by an ornament resembling thorns. 

"You really chose a look that says I'm from the Woods, huh?" You question, walking to Ella. 

"Yes, I did. Now, come on, we're about to be late!" Ella giggles, grabbing your hand and running to the black Mercedes outside your castle. "I modified the animal into carriage spell into something more modern."

You buckle your seatbelt, and Ella speeds off to the prince's castle. As you wait in the line of limos, you redo your lipgloss and spritz a bit of perfume to get the crab smell of your skin. 

"It's our turn, get ready!" Ella squeals, giving the car to the valet.

"Princess Ella Charming and her friend, Lady Y/N L/N!" The announcer yells as the two of you walk into the ball.

"Wow, this place is bright," You comment, looking at all the jewels, lights, and glamor.

"I know, right? It's so we can glimmer as we dance," Ella exclaims, dancing away with a man.

"Well, I've been left alone," You grumble, grabbing a glass of wine and walking to the hallway.

While exploring the castle, you find a path leading to the royal garden. You see a handsome man with blonde hair, tan skin, and greenish-blue eyes crying near a large fountain with a mermaid spitting water. You realize it's Prince Henry's younger brother, Prince Helio.

"Henry...why did you have to go?" He cries, making you feel sorry for him.

"Uh, hi! Sorry to interrupt your crying session, but would you mind me asking what's wrong?" You ask, revealing yourself. 

"Oh, sorry. I'm supposed to be out there finding a queen to rule with, but I'm out here crying over my brother. Henry was such a good older brother to me. He helped me with studies and sword training, but then he went into those woods and never came back. Now, here I am about to be king alone with only my mom and dad as family," The young man weeps, wiping tears from his face.

You knew what happened to the former Prince Henry. Everyone in the Woods did. But, it's things like this that are the reason people like you live in the Woods.

"I'm sure your brother misses you dearly. Even if he can't come back, I'm sure he'd want you to be a good king to your people," You comfort him, handing him your glass of wine. "Besides, it's your party. Wouldn't exactly want to let everyone down, would you?" 

"You're right. I, Prince Helia, shall make this the best pre-engagement party in this kingdom. Now, do you desire another drink, love?" 

"Yes, and just so you don't have to keep calling me love, my name is Y/N L/N."

Prince Helia leaves to get a cup of wine for you, and he pulls out a pink vial from his cape and pours it into your wine. He shakes the cup a little and lets the potion settle into the wine. He smiles lustfully, knowing he'll have the eternal love, the fairy tale ending he always wished for.

"Here's your class of wine, princess," Helia says, passing you the drink while he secretly pours the rest of the vial into his wine. "To happy endings!"

"To the Woods!" You proclaim, wrapping your arm around his to do your toast.

"To love!" You and Heli exclaim, drinking the wine.

When the wine travels down your throat, the potion takes effect immediately. You feel dizzy, and your wine falls to the ground. You fall, and Helia catches you.  

"My love, are you ok?" Prince Helia asks, holding you in his arms as he feels his heart beating. 

"Helia~" You moan, sitting up and leaning in to kiss him.

You kiss Helia, and it's like you both have lost control of your body and emotions. The kiss feels so good, you could've sworn you are in heaven. His hands roam your body as your tongues intertwine. Spit comes out of both of yours and Helia's mouths, and his short blonde hair ruffled as your hands run through it.

"I love you. I love you. I love you!" Helia chants, his kisses trailing down your neck. 

"Ah-ah~" You moan, sticking your neck out as leaves his mark.

Helia undoes your corset, and he throws it to the side. Your dress falls to your waist, leaving your breasts bare for him to see. You quickly shimmy off the rest of the dress and kiss Helia again.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, darling," Helia compliments, his eyes full of lust and love. "I need to worship your body. Come here and let your prince worship every inch and imperfection of your body and soul."

"Yes, my love," You reply, straddling Helia.

Your beloved prince traces every part of your body with his hand and circles the beauty, birth, and stretch marks. He kisses your clavicle, breasts, armpits, every body part on the way down to your pussy. When he finally reaches your clothed sex, Helia kisses it. 

"Helia, I'm-"

"A virgin? I know. But that doesn't matter because I would've loved you even if you weren't. I love everything about you. Your stretch marks, your body hair, even your scars."

Helia gently takes off your underwear and spreads your legs. He deeply kisses the entrance of your pussy, and he inhales the scent of it. His tongue enters your vagina, and your body can't help but react. Your back arches and your hands grip the stone steps. As Helia eats you out, your hips buck into his face. Helia speeds up his licking, and you suddenly start to feel weird.

"Helia, I feel strange!" You moan, sitting up.

"It's ok, my love, embrace that feeling," Helia replies, giving one last kiss to your pussy and kissing your inner thighs as you cum.

Helia begins to strip, and his clothes go flying off. His six-inch cock drips with precum, and you instantly want it in you.

"I'll be gentle. I know it's your first time. God, I can't wait to make love to you and give our kingdom an heir," Helia says, crawling towards you and lining up with your entrance.

You lift your legs to give him room, and he holds your hands. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he kisses you deeply. 

"I'm going to enter you. Tell me if there's any pain," Helia states, slowly inserting his dick in you.

You twitch in pain, and Helia's hands are on your face. He kisses you again, and you kiss him in return.

"I'm ready, Helia," You say, looking at his beautiful green eyes. "I'm ready for you."

Helia thrusts slowly, panting and moaning as if your body is sweet nectar. His steady rhythm of thrusting sends your body into ecstasy.

"Mm~ Helia," You moan, feeling Helia's cock move in your pussy and kisses on your neck.

"Are you enjoying me, my love?" Helia questions, speeding up the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Yes! Yes!" You exclaim, loving your high.

Your toes begin to twitch, and hearts appear in your and Helia's eyes. Helia's thrusts speed up, as do his kisses. Love bites cover your neck as Helia reaches his orgasm.

"I-I love you, my-my princess! I love you!" Helia stammers, climaxing and cumming into your pussy. His legs twitch as he orgasms.

"Oh-oo-ah-Helia!" You scream, your toes curling from the release and your pussy tightening around Helia's dick.

Helia kisses you, tears flowing from his eyes as he rides out his climax. When he's done, his sweaty body rests on yours.

"I love you. I-I love you so much, Y/N. I want to be with you forever. I need you," Helia rambles, resting his head on your chest.

"I know, my prince. I know," You pant, rubbing Helia's head.

~~~~~~~~~

After your passionate session with Prince Helia, your prince covers both of you with his cape. He's been kissing your skin since fucking you, holding you in his arms as if you would go away.

"I'll announce our engagement tomorrow, and we'll be married next week," Helia says, kissing your hand, knuckles, and fingers.

You fall asleep in your prince's arms, and he kisses you goodnight. 

"Goodnight, my darling."

#sanyuthewitch05 #yandere prince #yandere boy #male yandere #f!reader #yandere smut #yandere dubcon

[soaringwide]

PAC: What hidden talent do you have?

Hello with another pick a card reading, this time on the topic of ''get to know yourself better''.

This time the idea is to look into what talent of yours you are not fully aware off and could tap into and develop in the future.

By definition this might not be at the core of your personality since it is hidden, but maybe that's something you will tap into later in life. So I hope it's useful to you in some way!

How does that work?

Take a moment to recollect yourself, breathe, close your eyes if you need to, focus on the moment. Look at the 4 pictures and select the one that draws you in the most. Not the one you think looks cooler but the one that creates that pinching feeling inside of you. The one that makes you feel it has something to say.

It is possible to feel attracted to more than one pile, just as it is possible to only find parts of the reading relevant. Remember that this reading is meant for many people so it won't be perfectly applicable to your situation.

PILE 1

Cards: The Nectar + The King (archetype) + 4 of Swords Rx + Empress Rx + Strength + The Hierophant + King of Cups Rx + the Protectress + The forbidden forest + yin and yang; 2 of Swords + 4 and 6 of Wands; Priestess Magician

There is definitely the idea of a latent, untapped ability.

To me it has to do with healing, as in, the ability to help people through their recovery process and put them on track to bloom and be abundant again. To remove barriers to healing.

The fact that it has to do with remediating what is poisonous for the person, transmuting something toxic into something positive, makes me think it has to do with magical or energetic healing.

Perhaps you will use your words like a fire-talker (not sure it's the right way to translate but "coupeur de feu" in the orginal french term as in those who can heal burns by talking fire out, among other things), or work on removing magical thorns with your healing touch. I'm getting strong hand imagery and holy words may be significant as well as carrier for background movements in the spiritual realms.

I'm getting you will be or are guided to do this by higher powers with this ability that can help others tremendously, somewhat relaying these healing powers into the world. Like a bridge between the healing spirits and our world, putting healing energy in motion.

There is the idea of a position of authority that must be embraced with humility, respect and reverence, in order to restore the flow and clarity of health, working in tandem with powers from the realms beyond and by learning to develop your own power and ability for leadership whilst staying true to yourself.

You have this undeveloped ability of perceiving the higher realms, harness their energies and transmute them into something not only healing, but also protecting for others.

You would need to go on your own healing journey to gather the missing parts of yourself (individuation process is another way to look at it) and rectify what is unbalanced to find a wholeness that will allow you to carry this energy over to others. I'm really getting that it's not just about picking up a skill but really going through a process yourself in order to reach that step and that's why you haven't reached it yet. With also the idea of learning to listen to guidance and understand your bond to these higher powers more, and let yourself be guided on that path.

I wanted to see if there was another message that wanted to come out and I saw that while this ability is not currently active, and even blocked by your current circumstances, there would be great success gained from going through this journey towards that path. It's a call that you have the option to answer and are encouraged to do so with the support of your spirits and god(s) and that would be a source of celebration and achievements.

PILE 2

Cards: The Fool and Fear and Happiness + 7 of Cups Rx + Queen of Cups and 4 of Cups + The Magician Rx + Queen of Pentacles + 7 of Pentacles Rx

Your hidden talent has to do with performance arts, perhaps theater or dance, with the use of your body alongside your voice. You can pretend to be someone else again and again, endorsing different roles on different days and creating this artificial image for others to see.

You have the hidden ability to perform emotions so that it can be reflected in the heart of the audience. For example, expressing sadness or joy, the whole palette of emotions, and having that be felt by those who watch you. Relieving people in the lights of the stage.

I don't think it is about showing who you truly are but rather as I said, endorsing different identities and expressing something universal through that. You might not always feel passionate about what you are expressing, what role or piece you are given, but that's the nature of the craft. And in some way it allows yourself to explore your own thoughts and emotions by shifting perspectives, so it can be healing for yourself as well if you allow it to be.

By creating an artificial space for exploration of thoughts and emotions through your craft, you can shift people's emotional state and help them let go of what worries of preoccupies them. It is cathartic and the healing aspect of the arts. Ever watched a movie, cried for a while because it reminded you of something and felt lighter in the end? That's what you can give to people: freeing them of themselves for a short while. Allowing them a break from their own lives.

It's a trickery of some sorts, but the good kind of trickery because it is part of the game and the reason why people would come to you. It is to be willingly taken on adventure.

There is also a highly democratic aspect of your craft, as in, in front of performance in the audience, everyone watches the same things, react to the same things, rich and poor, good and bad. You help people bond together by lowering the boundaries that separate us all for a while.

In any case it is a raw talent, as in, you're very much at the apprentice level at the moment. You would need to work on it consciously, nurture this talent to let it grow and harvest its rewards later on. If that reading resonates with you I think that would be a good thing to practice on a hobby level for the pure enjoyment and personal fulfillment of it, rather than in order to make money from it.

PILE 3

Cards: The King, Protect your feelings, Knight of Swords Rx, 9 of Wands + King of Cups, Reflection Rx + 4 of Wands Rx, Renewal Rx + 8 of Swords Rx, Courage + 5 of Cups, Gloom Rx + 10 of Cups + The World + Intuition Rx, Sorrow Rx

Your hidden talent is to embody some of the noble qualities of the King, especially being a protector of the weak. You have the ability to stand up for what is right when facing a menacing majority and would step up to fight to defend what you believe in. You may have a tendency to be rash and impulsive when faced with something that doesn't sit right with you, because you want to confront that and rectify the wrongs committed. You will not take a defeat and will get back up again.

Your quality associated to that talent is that you are full of compassion and look at others with empathy because you have a great understanding of human nature and suffering, and you have a desire to protect that. You are devoted to help people and this helps balance the harshness of you combative spirit.

The caveat is that you might feel like it's a lost battle, or at least that you won't personally see the end of it in your lifetime. You feel like you're doing you won't be the one in the parade at the end of the battle because you will be long gone. What you don't see is that you can still help others in the present.

What you can give others with this talent is that your bravery is infectious. You lift them up, give them courage and they can free themselves in the moment. With you by their side they feel so much stronger.

And when faced with a loss, you are, again, here to help people grieve and be a shoulder to cry on, listening to their pain with empathy, which helps them tremendously.

And for the reason why it is hidden, I think the need just hasn't arisen at this stage of your life. You will need to reach a form of completion and to move on from the idea that things are perfect to the desire to put things in motion again and start a new chapter. A content heart doesn't strive for change.

PILE 4

Cards: Aletheia, Wheel of Fortune Rx + The Moon Rx + 9 of Swords Rx + Queen of Cups + The Empress + Justice

You hidden talent is the ability to speak the truth on what's hidden and trigger changes for those you bring the news to. I see you being able to detect lies easily. It can trigger fears in others because they might not want to see what you reveal.

You are able to see through the confusion and pierce through the illusion, and thus, bring vitality back where there was just fog and stagnation. It might make you feel a bit lonely and isolated at times due to feeling misunderstood. I don't think you have come to term with that talent yet so you may fail to see the good in it.

Because your strong intuitive gift of being able to see your emotions so clearly can bring a lot of healing and clarity to people, especially if you wield it with kindness and compassion. You may get back a lot of love and consideration from helping others.

Because you can help people release who takes advantage of them by shining light on their lies, especially if they are over-dependant and attached to this person or situation.

As to why it is hidden, you may not believe that you deserve to speak up and that you have the right to do so and would feel like you're being manipulative when it doesn't have to be the case.

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #pac reading #divination #tarot #tarot community #tarotblr #soaringwide #soaringwide tarot reading #pick an image #pick a card reading #PAC #pick a picture

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄.

pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader

summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus’ lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing. 

trigger warnings (overall): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who’s around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies. 

trigger warnings (in this part): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies, wet dreams, screaming out from anger, hate speech, hate-thoughts.

prologue. part 1.

her nose bleed. 

looking into the mirror, everybody could wonder that it didn't break from the look on y/n’s face. nosebleeding happened a lot of the time with her, her brother,  joked like “this is what happens when even your blood can’t stay near your thoughts.” well, only if he knew that sometimes, it was true. 

standing up, blasting the vases and the dolls she had on her shelf with a scream, everything fell down to the floor, broken into pieces, some of it cutting up her foot. still screaming, crouching to the ground, tearing out the pages of the old plan, she split her stupidity into litter. her whole body shook as she drew out the white powder she got from festus, spreading some on the edge of her thumb, sniffing it up. waiting until the calming feeling crawled in her blood to his brain and every little corner of her body, she felt full for a moment. her whole body shook as she stood up, stepping over the shards and thorns of her vases, her dolls and her roses. stomping over a doll with black hair, sy/n sat back to the dressing table. swiping the mascara off her face, then her lipstick, with baggy eyes, smeared makeup, with the eyes of a madwoman, her lips like she just ate something raw, her blood mixing with black and red, she wanted to tear up that bitch. 

but let’s not be so fast. let’s begin with the first things and signs, the signs that got y/n in this state. 

to begin with the good news, clemensia finally got out of the picture. y/n began the day at volumnia gaul, as she wrote in y/n’s response letter that she should be there tomorrow morning, so she can begin as soon as it’s possible. wearing her best clothes, she stood at nine am before the doctor’s doors. drinking a tea with her, y/n only saw only now how intimidating she looked –one of her, the ice blue one, came from the devil itself. 

“i’m not gonna lie miss y/l/n, but when i saw your application letter on my desk, i was surprised.” 

“how so? i mean, dr. gaul, i knew only the best biologists and scientists work for you, and i wanted to be one of them.” 

“really? oh, yeah, i remember about your assignment, dear. tell me, when you wrote those words and sentences, did you already think about working at the game?” 

“i mean… dr. gaul, please don’t get it wrong, i’m not really interested in the outcome of the games. twenty three people die anyway, and it’s not the maker’s task to make the games more interesting. that task is for the marketing section. i only want to see how venom can be planted.” 

“is the littlest, sweetest child of cyril y/l/n interested in venom?” 

“venom can be useful in so many ways. it can heal, and it can make things more interesting. it can make a single dinner turn into a full-night drama.” 

volumnia looked at y/n, then began to giggle. y/n never felt something like before; it crawled down into her veins, just like the drugs she used, scratching her brain, just like the day of the graduation. 

“miss y/l/n, i’m sure you have some ideas. and it’s not only about mono– and dicotyledons. come with me, let me show you something.” 

their heels clicked on the floor as the biologists looked at a big glass-cage in front them. at first she didn’t even realize what she saw, only a million scales crawling into each other, different metallic colors in every shade of the rainbow, never stopping, always slowly moving pressed to each other like shiny, long bowels. it was a glass cage, full of snakes. but what’s so special about it?

“they are venomous.” could dr. gaul read her mind? “it’s my newest invention. these snakes can poorly see or hear, but have better smell than any dog, and much more venom than any of their natural kindreds.” stepping closer, y/n placed her hand on the glass. only one knock, and they both could be dead at this very moment. 

“it’s truly amazing, dr. gaul.” she answered. 

as one of dr. gaul’s assistants led her around after her lunch –everybody wore white clothes, some of them had masks on their face–, in the early afternoon, coriolanus and clemensia came in. speaking of the devil, she was sitting at one of the tables in the big, white hall full of canned animals and organs, running through papers and listing the books she had to read as he stepped in. y/n completely forgot about the annoying girl beside her, thinking about their date, she sprayed a little perfume on herself when she saw them coming closer. at night, y/n had first so-called wet dream –she attended a sleepover at arachne’s house twice, and they were talking about these kinds of dreams, when girls dreamed about their ‘crush’. why call it ‘crush’ when you can call it lover? sooner or later, if you’re tenacious enough, they’re gonna be your lover. or was it just y/n? anyway, she knew what sex was and that it was good (although she never did it), but it was strange to wake up feeling hot like having a fever. feeling that her underwear was sticky, at first she thought that she had her period, but looking at it –nothing. she wasn’t a daydreamer, but when she thought back to the dream, reaching for coriolanus as he hovered ove her from above, holding his big hand, caging hers as he kept his other hand at the back of her neck, long fingers digging into the nape of her hair, stroking it with each jolt, burying his face into her neck, giving out grunts like an animal, moving his hips into hers while y/n held onto his broad, sculpted shoulders– it was a little bit weird that her mind wasn’t focused. she was… wandering. how weird! 

“hey, y/n, you already here?” clemensia asked her, making her look up from the paper. stilted smile, wide eyes, looking like she was ready to get all the credit from coriolanus for herself… yeah, she’s still a certified, annoying bitch. 

“hello, y/n.” corio said, making her look at him with a slight smile. just like she always did. 

“hi to you too. yes, well, seems like dr. gaul isn’t a procrastinator. she’s really a professional.”

“aren’t you scared to work between stuff like this? these glasses are creeping me out…” clemensia muttered. these things are hiding in you too, honey. sadly, the brain is missing, maybe in you too. 

“no, i’m not. it’s rather interesting, biology and science are the future.” 

before they could speak any further, volumnia appeared. 

“i see you two just found your little friend, already on the front.” 

“yes, and we are so happy about it.” said clemensia, dr. gaul bidded y/n to go with them. of course you are happy, connections are everything. y/n couldn’t decide if clemensia really was this bootlicker by her nature, or that his father was in trouble. 

“miss y/l/n already have seen my newest, beautiful babies, but i want you to see them too.”

“is there a point to a color?” clemensia asked as they stepped up on the stairs before y/n. 

“there’s a point to everything, miss devcoat, or to nothing at all… which brings me to your proposal.” dr. gaul answered, leaning with one arm on the cage. “which one of you actually wrote it?” 

looking at the snake cage, knowing the snakes had really good smelling affinitions, dr. gaul’s question… did she doubt it, too? sure there were cameras on the reception, and as coriolanus told her, he handed in the paper. did she doubt it? no. she knew that it was not her. after clemensia’s little speech, y/n slightly smirked, but when coriolanus looked back at her, she reassuringly smiled. 

“...so miss devcoat, reach in it for us, won’t you? so we might all consider your inspired ideas. don’t worry, my little predators are perfectly docile with those who they know they can trust. so if they’re used to your scent, if you’ll handle their food, for example… or if they’ve inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page.” 

the fear on clemensia’s face was satisfying. of course, y/n didn’t want her to die, she wasn’t a savage, but she needed to learn her lessons. and when she got bitten in a sudden moment, falling down… y/n almost couldn’t contain the honest smile on her face. coriolanus of course, was scared about what happened to her, and she tried to act like it, too. 

“miss y/l/n read about them this morning, surely she can say something about what this was.” dr. gaul said, making coriolanus turn to her. 

“i think that this is just the natural selection of humanity. i wouldn’t think that clemensia lied, but… these snakes proved it. by scent, of course, but judging and deciding is in every creature on this planet. they just went against it.” 

“mr. snow, your dear friend sees it right. and god, your suggestions! i will recommend my team implement as many as possible tomorrow, spread it in front of my team.” however, coriolanus didn’t seem eased. 

“will she die?” 

“the pleasure in breaking ground in one’s research as one gets to find it out. you better keep miss dovecote’s faith between us. i don’t think her mother would be happy to learn how her daughter was caught in a sudden… flu.” coriolanus looked at y/n. she furrowed her eyebrows, but knew that dr. gaul wasn’t one to fuck with. but one was out from her list, if she goes with speed like that, she can bid her problems really soon goodbye.

eating lunch together again, coriolanus suddenly held her hand. although it made her excited, his face contained the same worry he had when he saw clemensia. 

“y/n, you are one of her workers now. dr. gaul is… i have some precautions with her, did you see what she did with clemensia?” 

y/n nodded, stroking his hand with her thumb. 

“corio, dear, dr. gaul did that because she knew you were the one who wrote all those proposals and ideas. she just couldn’t stand the unfairness.” 

“i know, but she could have done it in a more gentle way, couldn’t she?” 

“she could, of course. dr. gaul just wanted her to learn a lesson, she was always on your back, coriolanus. i feel really sorry about her” no, of course i’m not. “, but you need to cut off the people who don't help you by their true being. i think casca highbottom’s goal was also this, for all of you to realize these things.” was it emotional and logical enough? she really hoped, and she eased up when coriolanus’ eyes lit up. 

“you are right, y/n. i’m grateful to you for telling me the truth.” 

“i’m never telling the truth, i am not a judge. or, only the times when it’s time. i’m just saying my thoughts as an outsider.”

“you may be an outsider by the games, but you’ll never be one in my life. thank you so much.” 

“i’m always happy to hear your thoughts, corio.” enough from the bullshit, let’s get to the more important stuff. “by the way, the date… how am i supposed to dress? our chauffeur can drive us anywhere, i talked with my father and he can go with his administrative car, so…”

“i want to bring you to a little restaurant, where i ate with my family when i was a child. it’s not big, but i really hope you will like it. and you can wear anything you want, i’m not gonna be disappointed.” 

y/n wanted to kiss him. so bad, to seal their whole life forever. despite that fact and her wants, she brushed one of her locks behind her ear. 

“thank you, corio. i just want it to be perfect.” 

after lunch, standing up, as y/n guided him out, he held her hand. 

“what will you do for the rest of the day?” she asked coriolanus, hoping they can be together for more time than just a simple lunch. if the date goes well, and it will go well, will they have little, secret dates together? will he come for her family’s dinner? it was mandatory always in her family, and he didn’t need to be introduced, but still, it was tradition. 

“i’m going to see if lucy gray is okay in the zoo. tomorrow we are planning on getting them food, would you go with me? the others will be there as well, and i’d like to introduce you to her.” 

really? well, it can happen, only if the media isn’t there. but it will, because these actions are making history right now. and if y/n is on the side of coriolanus, it can help him. her family, mainly her father will make her a joke, but he was so cynical that it didn’t matter. and this way, she can check that lucy gray for herself. 

“i’ll go with you, of course! it’s a wonderful idea.” she grabbed into his arms as they stepped out on the gates. she needed to go back of course, but she didn’t mind. 

“thank you, y/n. after that, be there at the restaurant at seven in the evening.” 

“i can’t wait for it, corio.” she smiled, looking up at him. brushing her hair, coriolanus bent down to kiss her cheek. it needed such a little move of her head to catch his lips, but she contained herself. today’s sacrifices are for tomorrow’s prizes. his lips were perfect, of course, including her dream from yesterday’s night, she held onto his arm to stroke it. 

“then tomorrow, y/n. take care of yourself, okay?” 

“just as always, please do the same, dear.” she muttered, making him smile. to kiss his lips, to dig her fingers into his hair, to lay into his arms as they watched that the majority of the votes called to him on the election of the presidency of panem… having dreams like this was the cause she didn’t get medicine through her veins. 

well, maybe they needed it after the tv-show at night. laying on her bed as usual, smoking a cigarette while reading, thinking about the outfit she could wear tomorrow night, her sister knocked on her door. 

“can i come in, y/n?” stubbing the butt of the cigarette, she stood up to open the door. as she laid back, morphia sat on her bed, putting her hand on her sister’s leg. “what’s up with you, little sister?” 

“dr. gaul accepted my application, so i spent the day with her in her office. and you? how is the wedding?” 

“well, i chose the taste of the cake yesterday, then spent the night with my old colleagues, the ones who i don’t invite to my wedding. it’s a shame, i know, but i only want my loved ones on my biggest, happiest day. and today, i spoke with timothé who said that the place by the hills is reserved, so we can have it to yourselves. it’s gonna be truly beautiful, isn’t it?” 

“yes, it truly will be beautiful. do you want a cigarette?” y/n asked, showing her sister the package. morphia took one, y/n took out a new one and lit it for both of them. “are you sure that you love timothé? from what do you know you love him?” 

morphia smiled, blowing out the smoke. it was strawberry flavored, her mother hated it. she only blew those skinny, bad tasting sticks. the only excuse was that sometimes she spiced up with some weed. although y/n didn’t like weed. 

“well, i just know it. you have a strange feeling in your heart.” check. “a feeling you have with no one else, and that you feel like you want to be around him, always.” check. “and you would do anything, and i really mean anything for him, and to be with him.” check. “because this is love. why are you asking this?” 

“i just… i think i love coriolanus, too. the way you love timothé.” 

“so nothing new, little sister.” she giggled, making y/n roll her eyes. she trusted morphia, although her marriage was needed because the family got to guarantee and secure their ten percent income from the district. this way, they could see the papers. the only problem were the plinths, who opposed this, but her father’s hands reached too long to raise a voice against the deal. and y/n wanted sejanus to get out of the picture, and after that, without descendants, they could only hope they will have what they got now until their death. 

“but there is news, morphy. coriolanus invited me on a date.” at her words, morphia covered her mouth, pulling up her eyebrows. holding y/n’s hand, morphia smiled at her. 

“really, y/n? oh my, it’s so wonderful! invite him for the wedding, if you want, but know that he’s an appreciated guest.” 

“i will, if he’ll have the time. but he’s at the games right now in his mind, i don’t want to disturb him.” 

“if he loves you, you’ll always be in his mind, you know. but the deadline is in one month, so please, tell me till then.”

“i will, morphy. i will.” she ended her second cigarette, throwing it into the burgundy ashtray, her sister did the same. 

“do you want to come down? this night is the game’s night, i heard that the tributes got thrown into the zoo.” 

“i know, me and corio will go there tomorrow.” 

“then he surely forgot to mention that… he went there, too.” 

what? rising to sit on her bed, y/n was really, really surprised. 

“how do you mean that?” she asked, trying to believe that her sister just babbled some shit together, but she seemed really certain about what she stated. 

“the tributes got thrown into a cage in the zoo, and your coriolanus was there, too. the interview is gonna be on the telly tonight, might come down and watch with us?” 

going down on the stairs with a buzz in her head, y/n saw that the show was already on. lucretius ‘lucky’ flickerman, a weathercaster who was now tapped to host the interviews from the 10th hunger games stood in front of the cameras. 

“sit down, dear, sit down.” her mother pointed to the place beside her. y/n decided to knee on the pillow where her cat laid, getting persephone into her arms. minutes later, there he was. morphia didn’t joke, he seriously got into that fucking cage? what the fuck? 

“is that your new lover, my sweet?” her father asked y/n, getting a giggle from her sister and her mother. “i can admit that he’s really ambitious about winning the prize.” 

y/n didn’t say anything, listening to what he and lucy gray said. that fucking bitch had the audacity to smile and brag like she was the new star, but she wasn’t. she was just a poor, miserable wanderer who got into the games because she fucked around. how could a… thing like lucy gray hold onto a hand she held this afternoon, too? she wasn’t a princess or a noble or a singer or an actor to have a big mouth like this, to act like this. 

and truly, it seems like she wanted to take away her lover. and it was something y/n could never accept, in any conditions, at any time, or in any situation. never. 

“are you okay, y/n?” her mother asked. “your hand is shaking.” 

brushing her hair, she looked at her mother, trying to nod with composed moves. 

“everything’s fine, mommy. i just need to go upstairs to take a bath, and to take my medicine.” 

and now, she was sitting at her dressing table. it wasn’t just unfair and rule-breaking how lucy gray played, but it was really, really degrading. her face burned in shame, and she wanted to claw down it all with her skin. 

closing her eyes, she prayed for sanity. sanity to go through the next weeks, for sanity to handle situations well, for sanity for her plan. repeat after me, y/n. repeat after me, you stupid bitch.

i am y/n y/l/n, youngest member of the house y/l/n. we are noble, i am noble, and i deserve everything that i have now.

picking up the doll she stepped over only minutes ago, stroking its hair, it was just a plaything. all people were just playthings, playing. how could lucy gray be anything else?

i am beautiful, clever and nobody can ever drag me down. the people who hate me are only envious of my life, my body and my mind, but they’re all going to soil.

looking aside, the fireplace in her room was on. running her thumb through the doll’s porcelain face the last time, she threw it into the fire. long, skinny flames crawled up on the soft fabric of its dress, licking the wall as the fine china cracked. it was time to take a bath.

i love the life i have, and i will appreciate every single second of the life i will have when i achieve my goals. i have every tool i can use to win, and i will use them to be the woman i want to be. it’s not far away, and everyday is a chance to be closer to the woman i want to be.

“hortense, do you think a woman can make a man hers?” she asked from her maid as she sat in the hot water, hortense braid her hair to be curly for tomorrow, fasten it with silk ribbons. 

“i think, miss y/l/n, that women have power. so probably, yes, but please, don’t make yourself hurt. your safety is the first.” hortense answered from behind her back, helping her wash her back. so probably, yes. if even a maid knew that, then why did lucy gray try to stand between her and coriolanus? 

laying in her bed, ready to sleep, she stroked persephone’s fur. 

“how could she do that, persy?” whispering in silence, only getting a meow back, y/n thought about the cage of the snakes dr. gaul showed her today. only a little crack, and everybody could die in unbearable pain, only under mere seconds. maybe she also had to be a cage full of snakes. only a crack on her mind she already had, and everybody could die into what she did. 

maybe she was already. 

a/n: thanks for the waiting babiez, i hope you liked this part too <3 also, wish me luck for my exams 😩

taglist: @champomiel @stelleduarte @diamondsbestie

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[rayroseu]

I think the similarity between Malleus and Grim might be because Grim is Malenoa's phantom.

To preface, I'm assuming Malenoa overblotted because of the scene in Sleeping Beauty where she snapped at seeing Diablo turned into stone? 

Additionally, both movies of Maleficent involved a "death scene." In Maleficent 1, it was Diaval being chained down by King Stefan's soldiers/Maleficent was about to be slain by King Stefan and in Maleficent 2, its Maleficent actually died from protecting Aurora.

Both scenes eventually had a "saving from their impending death." But, since this is twisted wonderland, the Disney movie is more inspired by the Original Animation where Maleficent and her goons actually lost to the humans.

—

Diablo (Maleficent's birb) in TWST, is Levan right now and in recent updates its said that the latest news about Levan is that he's missing and there's rumors about him fighting Knight of Dawn; the strongest of the Silver Owls.

Right now, the Silver Owls are ambushing the Land of Briar castle where Malenoa is. 

If it goes like this??? I think they kept Levan as hostage to officially take the land or something—

All I know is that someone must've harmed Levan because in the movie, Maleficent only attacked the kingdom or used all her powers to kill Prince Philip upon discovering the fairies turned Diablo into a stone bcs they want Prince Philip to escape and save Aurora.

From the words of Lilia about Malenoa, Malenoa is undefeatable– so I really don't believe she was overpowered by strength, but rather she was caught off guard by emotional turmoil (or for this theory, consumed by her own overblot).

—

Going back to Grim might be Malenoa's phantom… Grim is always assumed to be a phantom labeled as a direbeast for now... Its heavily theorized like that because of how, in his feral state, he devours blotted magic stones.

And, blotted magic stones are what supplies a phantom to live because they carry the magic power of a mage.

But phantoms can't be born without an overblot first... so who's mage is he a phantom of?

We know that the phantom's strength is a reflection of a mage capabilities when they were at the right state–

Malenoa was a really powerful mage so if we consider the destruction of NRC (and possibly the Sage Island? The entire sky was black out too) that we've seen in the prologue as the power of Phantom Grim, then Phantom Grim must originate from a formidable mage like Malenoa, because he easily beaten all mages on the island effortlessly and even plunged the surroundings in darkness.

If Grim is a phantom then he's a powerful one because he's ancient (assumed from his diagnosed curse from STYX), he has the intelligence of a human, and has immense destruction power (if he's not sane as shown with how he easily destroyed his cage room at STYX).

Also even if Overblot Grim is composed of different parts from the main 7 phantoms, his form is majorly resembling a dragon. And, Malenoa's a dragon.

(long post ahead)

—

On top of it, the story kind of implies that Malleus and Grim has similarities with each other.

I read a theory that Grim must be an extension of Malleus, it was a bit of a crack theory but rather than Malleus himself, I would like to believe Grim is Malenoa's phantom. That's why Malleus and him are similar because they're??? both related from Malenoa???)

does that mean Malleus and Grim are siblings then....

■ Grim Overblot is at overpowered HP, like Overblot Malleus.  No other overblot is like that. If Grim is a reflection of (Overblot) Malenoa's power, then it makes sense for Malleus and Grim to only have exclusive overpowered HP.

■ Most of Malleus' magic derived from his mother (thorns, lightning, and green fire). Both Grim and Malleus' cards shares their elements. The comparison is on this post.

■ Both Grim and Malleus has ancient magic. Papa Shroud said that Malleus' magical barrier looks like something out of a illustration book.

c: @/cymrJP on yt

STYX also said that Overblot Malleus' magic which is territorial control; where inside his magical barrier time has stopped and all life forms has fallen to sleep is an ancient magic.

So, if theres any mage from past who can do what Malleus can do, then Malenoa could've summoned a magical barrier like that once she overblotted as well.

And, you know, who's an ancient being except for Lilia? Grim.

We don't know his age but its highly likely he's older than we know because of his ancient curse. Which is proof that he must've been existed as Malenoa's phantom because he's already existing from a long time ago.

■ Both Grim and Malleus are big eaters. A little trivia about Malleus is that he's a big eater (from the Scalding Sands event), maybe even more than Sebek because it just makes sense as he is a dragon.

But, his big apetite is displayed at a classy manner unlike of Grim who just messily devours.

We can assume that all dragon faes are just like that, so Malenoa could've possibly been a big eater as well. If she's related to Grim (aka being her overblot form's phantom), then Grim's voraciousness for food, which is depicted as a comedic relief for now, can be a reference that his power/mannerism is from Malenoa.

■ Malenoa is commanding like Grim. Grim refers to us as "henchmen" and at first, thinks of us as just mere servant to gratify his demands (but he slowly got attached to Yuu in the end).

So.... You know, who else has henchmen??? Malenoa as the leading commander of Land Briar's military and her henchmen aka Lilia and his fellow soldiers.

And... She seems to order around Lilia as she pleases like how Grim orders Yuu around lol

■ Grim and Malleus' overblot forms has the same lacing patters on their faces. Their main design is very similar. And their pattern both adorns their forehead.

■ Grim constantly says and wishes to be the greatest mage in all of TWST. If Malenoa is alive right now, then she'll be the most powerful.

Plus, Grim's pride for himself and the way he easily talks down others despite only having a normal amount of magic might also come from this inherent personality of Draconia's "being better than everyone" (and they literally are).

Malleus is even shown to talk down at others as well if he's triggered the wrong way, he doesn't hesitate to flaunt his strength if needed. Although unlike Grim, he has self control because of Lilia's discipline that "he musn't use his power carelessly." (what Lilia said to little Malleus after the freezing castle fiasco).

■ Malleus is referred as monstrous or similar to a monster because of his strength and no one approaches him because he might burn you because he's a dragon (from what the students has been whispering about him). Grim is a literal monster who'll blow a fire on you, he's not feared like Malleus but no one really wanted to take him in NRC except for Yuu.

Their similarity is that its only Yuu that they care for (outside of Malleus' family ofc) and Yuu is the only one who sees them for who they are.

—

Additonal Info of Why I think Malenoa Overblotted

• Papa Shroud saying that Malleus magic happens only in fiction can also imply Malenoa's overblot.

Because her death/overblot happened a long time ago, then its treated as a fairytale/fictional because its just "unrealistic."

We know that TWST History is unreliable. In one of the vignettes (of Lilia i think??) Lilia talked to Trey about giant magical pens and how its probably so long ago that the present people thinks its fictional or a myth now. (Altho we're not sure of its legitimately what happened since Lilia was telling it to make Trey, the listener, be confused whether it is real or not.)

The History voicelines has said about fairytales being the real... I can't remember much except from this voiceline from Rook where he said "Do you think fairy tales are fiction?"

Additionally, TWST is also a world where fairytales of Disney Villains is regarded as historical facts— I'm saying the Great Sevens stories in TWST is like a fairytale or ficitional because we know their true personality/their true story in their respective Disney films). But, their twisted version is regarded as factual despite it being so wrong from their actual story. (Ex. Frollo of the City of Flowers was a hero but in Hunchback of Notre Dame, he was not that lol)

• Every overblot we had must be from a student who perfectly embodies one of the Great Seven. Malenoa was the first character outside of the main characters to have a great influence from Maleficent. Which strengthes the prospect of her overblotting. She's even more resembling to Maleficent than Malleus himself.

She's referred to as snapping her goons with thunder like Maleficent, she's the most evil princess, and she seems to only have affection for Levan which parallels to Maleficent only being caring to Diablo and no one else.

• Grim doesn't remember his past. If Malenoa overblotted like Malleus and it mirrors with the magical barrier he's using right now, then it makes sense for Malenoa's cause of death and the Silver Owls to be unknown up until now.

Because her death happened inside that magical barrier where its time and reality operated differently.

• Plus, isn't it strange how Lilia immediately knew Leona was overblotting? He quickly sensed the negative energy almost as if its familiar.

It could also just be because he's knowledgeable with Magic itself but I'm putting this here as proof that Malenoa overblotted because Lilia has experienced it during his General days and thus why its familiar.

Also because... The way he yelled at Malleus before he overblotted feels like he's stopping him because he's really aware of what happens when a mage overblots... 😭

Probably had flashbacks when Malenoa overblotted and was consumed by it as well?? KJXAKJE

#i hope this was conherent i felt like i was going around aimlessly while writing this ajdjsjdj #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twistedwonderland #lilia vanrouge #twst theory #twisted wonderland book 7 #twisted wonderland headcanons #disney twst #twst spoilers #lian notes #twisted wonderland theory #theory #twst grim #grim twst #twst book 7 spoilers #twst book 7 theory #dont u just love it when history repeats itself