#imagine following me for witch hat

[nexysworld]

Chapter Summary: You finally make a decision on your relationship. Unfortunately for you it will lead to untold horrors you couldn't have imagined. Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.

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You continued staring up at the ceiling recovering from the self-induced orgasm. Aftershocks made your legs twitch and tense, you wiggled them about to try and ease the sensation. Finally having the energy to roll over, your view changed from the ceiling to the wall, lined with your stuffed animals. 

Childish maybe, but you always had a fond spot for them, never having been able to throw them away. Some were old, made of patchwork with faded colors – a reminder of your childhood. Others were newer, like the overstuffed pumpkin that Derek had won you for Halloween one year, or the small teddy bear Leon had given you, a present from one of his work trips. 

Your eyes lingered on the squishy pumpkin, the memory of Derek giving it to you rushed to the forefront of your memory. It had been one of your favorite dates together, spontaneously deciding to stop by the boardwalk after dinner one evening. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy overpowered the smell of the ocean as you walked along the clackity wooden path. Halloween décor was tacked on to everything in sight, even the prizes were ghosts, pumpkins, and black cats. 

“You look good like that.” He said, flashing a smile. You tugged on the brim of the cheap witch’s hat, trying to ensure the paper thin material wasn’t going to fly off in the wind. “You calling me a witch?” You gasped in mock offense. “‘Course not baby, I would never.“ He’d doubled over in laughter, spilling the soda on his favorite

band t-shirt. “Oh shit.” He shook the black fabric with one hand trying to get some of the excess liquid off. Slapping his arm playfully, you kissed his cheek. “That’s what you get for being a jerk.” “But I’m your jerk, right?” He raised a brow leaning down to return your affection for a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, you’re my jerk.” 

As the two of you made your way down more of the game booths something caught your eye – a huge fat pumpkin with a little spider attached to it. The thing was easily the size of your entire body, and you really wanted it. Coming to a dead stop, you tugged on Derek’s sleeve before pointing at it. “Make it up to me, win me that!” He froze for a second, a nervous laugh exiting his mouth. “I mean I can definitely try…” 

The game runner ate it up, goading Derek to play. He explained it was simple, just toss it at an angle, get the ball into the bucket and boom – prize!

The first ball bounced off the plastic basket almost hitting a child in the face. The second ball followed the course of the first one. The third one impressively flew even farther, and Derek had to run to go get it. “Again.” He said determined, though the next round didn’t fare much better. By the fourth round, you weren’t able to contain your laughter anymore, which only served to egg him on. “Come on baby, I was only kidding. I don’t need it.” “I’m going to win it, just you watch.” “If you say so.” You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “I still believe in you, the millionth time’s the charm.”

You weren’t sure how many losses he’d suffered but you knew he’d coughed up nearly $200 and had nothing to show for it. It made your heart soar a little knowing he was willing and determined to get this for you. 

Lo and behold the last time was the charm, he’d still missed the first two shots, but the third one landed in the basket and stayed there. The smallest of the three bells rang out indicating a win and the game runner clapped behind the counter. “Congratulations!” He shouted with an exaggerated tone before taking his long hooked stick out to yank a prize down. 

It wasn’t the gigantic pumpkin, but it was just perfect in its own right. Medium sized and plump, you squished it to your chest in a hug before capturing Derek’s lips with your own. “It's perfect.”

“Mm, no you’re perfect.” He replied smoothly, wrapping an arm around you from behind as the pair of you made your way further down towards the rides. It had been getting later into the evening, things were dying down a bit. The Ferris wheel was still running and you decided to end the night on the ride together. 

The city was beautiful, sparkling likes juxtaposed against the dark buildings and streets, stars twinkling above. You could see your apartment building, and the coffee shop Derek worked at down the way. Unconsciously you snuggled closer to him in your seat, leaning your head against his shoulder. The words had slipped out of his mouth so casually you’d almost missed it, so relaxed into the moment. “What was that?” You asked softly. “I said I love you.” He replied, petting your hair. It caused your heartbeat to speed up as you registered what he’d said. The air hung heavy with the confession.

“I love you too.”

A hollow and guilty feeling erupted in your chest and made its way down to your stomach at the memory. Post nut clarity was a wild thing – and now that your head was clear everything was starting to make sense. 

Derek had been right, about everything. What did it say about you that hours ago you’d fought with him about your attachment to Leon, and now here you were getting yourself off to the very guy he was worried about. ‘I’m such an asshole.’

You squeezed the pumpkin close to yourself, taking in the still faded but lingering scent of Derek’s cologne. The urge to cry caused you to curl in on yourself for a moment, but you managed to suppress the tears behind a few sniffles. A soft breath escaped you, and you placed the pumpkin back on the shelf. 

Before you rolled back over you glanced next to the pumpkin at the small teddy bear Leon had gifted you. It was black, about the size of your hand. He said he’d brought it back from Spain on his last work trip – something you had been meaning to ask him about more in depth but never got the chance. It was cute, and it meant a lot to you at the time, but now it made your heart ache. ‘Should I get rid of it maybe? It’s not like Leon would know.’

You reached over to grab the small stuffed animal, looking it over, running your fingers against the soft fur. Something caught your eye, a red light in the left eye. It was a faded light, and you could only see it at certain angles. ‘What the –?’ You inspected it more closely, but nothing else was obviously amiss.

‘Maybe the eyes were supposed to light up or something.’ You shrugged, putting the tiny bear back where it belonged, deciding you didn’t have the heart to toss it, hoping Derek just wouldn’t notice its existence. 

Guilty and resolved to making things right, you mulled over what you’d say to Leon, to Derek. You didn’t want to abandon your friendship, but if that’s what it would take, you weren’t going to throw your relationship away – and maybe it would be better for your friendship if you weren’t so close. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nervousness caused you to be jittery, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stood outside his door. ‘You got this. Leon’s a good guy, he’ll understand. He’ll understand.’ You let out a deep sigh, hyping yourself up before knocking on his door. 

The second your eyes met the endless blue of his, regret washed over you from head to toe. The way he leaned against the doorframe, you’d caught him after a workout again, shirtless a sheen of sweat coating his muscles. It was the first time you’d seen him completely shirtless and it was making your brain go haywire a bit. 

Suddenly a palm was in your face, waving. “Hello, Earth to Ms. 306, you there?”  

You were snapped back to the moment. “Sorry, I was spacing out for a moment.” “You don’t say.” He laughed, standing up straight. “Well you’re the one who knocked on my door. What’s up?” “About that. The other night with Derek I uh….” How exactly were you going to explain this? “I think it’s best if maybe you and I saw less of each other.”

Hurt washed over his features. “What? Did I do something wrong?” “No, it’s nothing like that.” “I’m just confused, the guy left you at the theater and –” “I know and that was shitty of him. He just seems to think you and I are too close, and I mean I get it. I can’t say I would be comfortable if he spent as much time with another girl as I do with you.” Averting your eyes, you stared down at your feet. “I’m sorry Leon. It’s just, I do love him and I want to try and work on things ya know? Like you’re a super awesome friend and if it were up to me I’d keep things the way they are but it makes him uncomfortable…so….”

“Of course. I understand completely.” 

You swore there was a slightly strained sound to his voice, you didn’t push it though, happy that he was accepting of things. “Thank you Lee.” Like a coward, you scurried off the moment the conversation concluded.

Luckily Derek had been willing to talk things out and once you had mentioned breaking things off with Leon – if you could even call it that – his mood changed entirely. It  melted your heart to see the way his face lit up, to feel his arms around you. It affirmed in the moment you had made the right decision.

Things fell back into place like nothing had been wrong – except this time around everything was so much more smooth, a love rekindled. You found yourself talking for hours every night before bed time, laughing at dumb stories, falling asleep before the call ended. 

Date nights were becoming a regular occurrence again too, walks in the park, midnight movies. 

All in all things were great, but there was something you just couldn’t shake from the back of your mind. Every moment with Derek, every touch, kiss, conversation – it managed to abate your guilt for him, but all you could do was linger on the fact that something was just missing. 

Obviously you knew the culprit – Leon. 

Somehow, despite everything, you couldn’t shake him from your mind. You missed him terribly and he managed to invade your thoughts at the worst possible moments. Kissing Derek, you’d close your eyes and wonder what it would feel like if Leon had been on the other end.

Walking through the hallway of the battered building felt lonely without the conversations you would have and the laughter that entailed. Helping Mrs. Wilson hurt the most, having to tread to the pharmacy by foot made you miss Leon’s Jeep and the moments spent together. The few times you actually did bump into Leon or catch a glimpse of him, it hurt. 

“This is ridiculous.” You said to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, sitting on your bed. Derek had just dropped you back home after a date, and again the only person on your mind wasn’t the one it should be. “He’s just my neighbor, a friend.” 

Letting out a sigh, you thought about the evening with Derek. He’d actually suggested moving in together now that things were getting better between the two of you. Of course you were hesitant at first, this apartment had a lot of sentimental value and leaving it behind meant taking on a new chapter of your life – it was scary. Thinking back on everything though, you were beginning to think it was a good idea. 

Everything here was reminding you of someone you can’t – shouldn’t have. Leon had been too meshed within your daily routine, and you figured a change of scenery could help with that. You could still check in with Mrs. Wilson, but not have to be reminded of him every single day. 

Resolved to your decision, you texted Derek to let him know. Not knowing why, you had the urge to tell Leon. You didn’t technically have to, and you knew that it wasn’t like you owed him an explanation – it just felt like the right thing to do. 

Still too much of a coward to face him or call, you opted to text him instead. 

‘Long time no talk. Hope ur well. :) ’

Locking the screen, you set the phone down on the nightstand, surprised when less than a minute later it buzzed with a reply. 

‘Just dandy! :) U doin ok?’

‘Yeah!’

‘U sure? not like u to txt out of nowhere.’

‘just had some news i dunno.’

‘news? hope its good lol’

‘i think so… Derek asked me to move in with him.’ 

The three bubbles to indicate he was typing popped up for a mysteriously long amount of time, making you anxious. Finally they stopped, and you waited – nothing. Thirty minutes passed by before you finally received a response. 

‘thats awesome! 👍’

Not sure how to reply, you simply didn’t. The expectation of relief after breaking the news didn’t come, but you pushed it aside. ‘Things are changing. You’ll be just fine once you’re out of here.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw Derek was about three days later – the two of you had a camping trip date planned for the weekend. With your duffel bag packed, you took the opportunity to walk  to his apartment, wanting to surprise him that morning. 

The weather was perfectly temperate and it felt nice to have fresh air and sun on your skin, without freezing to death or sweating bullets. The sounds of the city set you at ease, familiar shops and people passing you by as you made your way.

The only odd thing was Derek hadn’t replied to your text. It was just a simple ‘Good Morning’ but it wasn’t like him to not respond. Thinking he was likely just busy getting ready or slept in late, you shrugged it off. This trip was the start of something new – plans to move upon returning – and you weren’t about to let anything stop you from making it positive. Even any thought of Leon was temporarily pushed to the back of your mind. 

His apartment building was a lot nicer, and in a better part of the city. The ivory building came into view and you all but ran from the outside staircase up to the second floor where his home was. Sliding the spare key into the knob, you knew something was wrong immediately – the lights were off and the whole place just felt stale.

“Der?” You called out, flipping the living room light on. “You here?” No response came, you looked out the window to the parking lot and sure enough his car was there – no camping gear on top though. 

Making your way further inside the apartment, you looked around for any sign of him. His keys were tossed on the stained coffee table where they always were. His shoes were by the front door. There was no immediate sign of exit or entry. 

His bedroom door was closed though, something you knew was unusual – he always left it open even at bed time. 

“Der?” You called again, gently cracking the door open. The room was dark, curtains drawn and no artificial light to be found. Your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you saw the lump of human form underneath the bed sheets, comforter having been discarded onto the floor. “Baby?” You gently shook him, turning the nightstand light on to the lowest setting. The sheets were moist and sweat soaked, his brows were knitted together in his unconscious state – like a nightmare. It took a few more forceful movements before he finally stirred, shooting up in the bed. “What the fuck!? Oh…oh my god baby I’m sorry. You scared the shit out of me.” He brought his hand over his heart as he caught his breath. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you but when I came in everything seemed off. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling well. Guess I slept in.” “You’re soaking with sweat, are you sure you’re ok to go? We can just stay in if you’re not well.” “No baby, I’m fine. I promise.” He gave you a weak smile before kissing your cheek. “Just let me take a quick shower and pack up.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I can start carrying the gear down to the car.” He did not look okay at all. His eyes seemed more sunken than usual, skin pale and clammy. Something beyond that just felt off - but he continued to insist everything was fine. 

“Maybe just stop by urgent care real quick. I mean if you are sick maybe they could give you something for it that you can take on the trip?” “Baby, we’re halfway to the campsite. All I need is some fresh air and time with my girlfriend. I told you I feel fine.” “Alright…” You had to admit the campsite he picked was beautiful. This flat plane of grassy area set atop a hill, you could see the entire valley below including the river – the mountains and the sky were along the horizon too. It was beyond breathtaking and you could only imagine the view once the sun set and the stars began to twinkle unimpeded by the city lights. The little area was surrounded by a thick layer of trees, giving you plenty of privacy.

Awestruck by it all, the thought of Derek’s condition nearly dissipated entirely from your thoughts – he seemed to be getting better anyway, easily handling stretching out the tarp, and hammering the stakes into the ground for the tent base. 

“At least one of us is useful.” You teased, nearly getting tangled in the plastic and wiring of the tent. Attempting to bend one of the thin metal sticks down to loop into another section, it flung back whipping you in the face instead. “Fuck, ouch.” A nice thin slice of blood trickled down the stinging red mark on your face. You covered that side of your face with your sleeve. “Can you grab me the first aid kit?” 

There was no response to your request, heavy silence ringing out into the air. “Babe?” Using your good eye you looked over to where he was working on the base, he stood staring at you. “Derek? Hello?” Something about it unsettled you in a way you couldn’t describe, like a 6th sense. “This isn’t funny.” His eyes seemed darker, and his body movement frozen as he gripped the hammer in his hand, tightly. “You’re starting to scare me!”

Snapping out of it, he shook his head before smiling, posture instantly relaxing. “What are you talking about – oh my god are you okay?” He ran over to inspect you and you noted his skin felt weird and cold against your own, not like the usual wet heat you’d experience with a fever. You weren’t sure what to make of it at all, but concern grew within you. “What was that all about?” “What are you talking about?” He replied, dabbing gently at your face with the alcohol pad. A hiss left your lips at the stinging sensation. 

“You just stood there staring at me, totally spaced out.” “I don’t remember that at all.” “Derek, are you sure you’re okay? Like really okay?” “Are you going to keep asking me that this entire trip?” “No, I just….” “Look, let’s finish getting set up for the night, I promise you’ll feel better once we’re settled in.” Another quick kiss and he grabbed the part of the tent you’d been fumbling with to finish putting it together. Not wanting to be near him at the moment, you chose to take his advice, stringing up the solar-fairy lights around the trees and moving to get the campfire spot set up. 

“All done?” “All done!” He said giving you a high five. “Looks great babe, the lights are really cute. I can't wait to see them tonight.” “Me either.” You replied, kissing him – the cold clammy feeling still there. 

There were still a few hours left in the day before sundown, so you opted to explore along the trail for a while. Derek seemed okay initially, his breaks were paced out in a way that made sense. As the day turned to late afternoon though, his breathing seemed to be more labored, breaks became more and more frequent. 

You wanted to say something badly, but knowing he’d blow you off you kept it to yourself hoping it was just a cold or something. 

By early evening, he was looking rough, red veins in his eyes accentuated by deep purple bags, shivers running through him despite the air having become more humid. His bouts of spacing out became more frequent too – randomly staring off into space nodding as if he was in agreement with some invisible thing. 

The worst was when he’d disappeared for 30 minutes on a piss break. You’d found him face first against the tree, urine on his shoes, cock still in hand. Even the sound of your voice didn’t stir him from the spot – nor did shaking his shoulder. 

It was another 5 minutes before he snapped out of it this time, smiling at you? “How’s your eye feeling?” Was all he asked as he zipped himself up. 

A fear stitched itself together within you and more and more you were working on ways to get out of here – to get him some help because something was not right and it definitely wasn’t a cold. This was beyond your comprehension or ability to assist with.

As night began to shadow the area, the two of you made it back to your campsite. The lights you'd hung glistened against the backdrop of the dark woods giving you enough light to set up the fire. Insisting on it, you tucked Derek beneath a thick blanket on the camping chair and begged him to rest.

You considered calling 911, but the thought of all the lights and sirens worried you that it might spook the clearly ill man or provoke him. What you really needed at the moment was advice because you frankly didn’t know what to do, but you were scared.

“Here, drink this.” You said handing him the thermos of now heated soup. “Just try to rest for a bit.” You kissed his forehead. He was getting worse now, feeling like he had been dipped in an ice bath, you never knew a human could get so cold. You swear his veins were getting darker too, at least the ones around his neck – but it could’ve just been the low lighting. “I have to go to the little girl’s tree, I’ll be back.” You assured him, walking until you hoped you were out of earshot. Your phone was gripped tightly in your hand as you paced trying to figure out the best course of action. ‘Can 911 even make it out here? Do people really call 911 over a sick person?’ 

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do.” Unlocking your phone, you squinted, eyes adjusting to the overwhelming brightness of the screen in the dark area. “Who would?” You scrolled through your contacts list at least 5 times – only one name ringing in your head. “I mean he works for the government – not that I know what he does exactly … but maybe?” 

The phone rang with a crackling sound indicating the poor connection from the wilderness – relief flooded over you as the other end of the line picked up. “Leon, thank god. I know this is wildly inappropriate given everything but I need –” Before you even finished you realized he couldn’t hear you. The staticky noise picking up, his voice echoing in and out sounding robotic. The line disconnected on it’s own and the top corner read ‘no signal.’ “Fuck!” You kicked the trunk of the tree in front of you.

“Babe?” The sound of Derek’s voice brought you back, it sounded so weak and hoarse. “I’ll be right there.” You yelled back. “Babe?” He called again. “Babe I’m scared.”

The words made you shiver, the hair on your neck raised – it sounded like Derek, but not at the same time. You still forced that feeling aside and marched back to camp, legs feeling like sand bags as you made them move against your own will. 

“What’s wrong –”

You stopped just behind the tent, he was standing there facing you, the fire illuminating his skin. “Babe, I’m scared.” He repeated again, though his face held no emotion – completely expressionless. Dark black vein made spiderwebs along his skin, running from his arms up onto his face. His irises looked black, red blood vessels in both eyes popped making him look like a demon. The corners of his mouth had blood dried to them. 

He coughed into his hand, more blood coming out. “Help me.” He reached a hand out towards you. Instinctively, you stepped back away from him. “Help me.” He repeated again stepping forward directly into the campfire – unphased by the flames that were licking away at his clothing, his skin. For each step he took forward, you took one back, legs shaking as silent tears spilled. A visceral fear like you’d never experience before sent shockwaves throughout your entire body. 

He brought two burning hands to his head, the flames catching at his hair while he continued to stumble forward at an uneven pace. “My head. It’s splitting my head.” His voice became warbled as he spoke, like his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. “You’re scaring me….” You managed to squeak out, barely above a whisper. 

“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!” He shouted this time, head twisting to the side the sound of his neck cracking. His features began to warp, nose pulling to the left, mouth twisting, eyes swirling as the flesh tore and split apart – the sound of wet tearing making you feel ill. 

A small worm-like thing poked out of the top of his head, before it darted out, growing and growing in size. A second later his head finally tore an explosion of tentacles waving around in the air, like purple blood worms dancing above the neck of his burning body. His features, the ones you knew so well were twisted amongst the new flesh. 

The now sideways mouth opened into a hiss, long tongue slithering out like a snake. Warm urine trickled down your leg against your will, fear paralyzing any movement or rational thought. There was no comprehension of what was in front of you. 

Despite the flames melting the flesh of the body, it didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime soon. A tentacle whipped itself forward, slapping against the tree above you, nearly hitting you. The slimy slapping sound was enough to get your legs moving, despite how wobbly they were. 

You took off into the dark of the woods, leaves crunching beneath you. Shadows danced around your vision in the moonlight that only casted down between the canopy of the trees. The yellow light behind you mixed with the gargling and fleshy noises told you the creature was behind you in pursuit. Branches and bushes whipped your skin leaving you with cuts and welts you couldn’t feel through the adrenaline – path lost you just went as long as you could.

You saw the opening to the camp parking lot, the low streetlamps like a guiding star. “Help!” You shouted, waving an arm as you ran. “God help me!” You screamed again hoping someone would hear you. In your haze you hadn’t noticed the overgrown root curled out of the ground, it caught your ankle right before you made it to the cement of the parking lot.

Your face hit the yellow barrier of the closest spot, a crunching pop against your nose, iron infecting your sense of smell. When the stars stopped buzzing around your head, you looked down to see your ankle still caught under the root, twisted and purple – bone sticking out through the side.

The hissing sound told you the creature wasn’t far behind, the tips of the tentacles appearing just within your now hazed vision. Coughing on the blood that spilled into the back of your throat via your likely now broken nose, you tried to crawl backwards, but couldn’t the pain in your ankle too great. The creature was right above you now, drool and slime dripping down onto your face as they wriggled around. Closing your eyes to brace a loud explosion sound rung out, all parts of your face and exposed skin suddenly covered in sticky and warm liquid. Cracking an eye open, you saw the body of the creature as it hit the ground. 

Looking down at yourself, you were wearing blood and teeth and other viscera that had splattered against you. Your hand shakily reached into your tank top feeling at the squishy thing that landed in your bra. 

Bile worked its way out of you upon discovering the eyeball in your hand, tossing it before losing the rest of your stomach contents out onto the open ground. In too much shock and shaking, your vision went black as you slipped into unconsciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~

Head reeling you refused to open your eyes, purposefully scrunching them shut against the invading sunlight. You felt like you’d been hit by a bus, every part of you was either sore or stung. As your brain slowly started coming to, the first thing you realized was the smell – out of place but familiar. That spicy and intense cologne – Leon?

‘But why would Leon be in your tent?’ The image of the blonde appeared in your mind making you giggle a moment. Then it occurred to you, you were fully conscious. Confused you opened one eye and then the other, wincing as they adjusted to the light. 

It wasn’t your tent. It wasn’t even your apartment. You sat up as quickly as your mangled body would allow, heart rate picking up again. “Hey there, you’re finally awake.” Snapping to the door you saw him there, a look of concern on his face. “Leon?” “In the flesh.” He said softly making his way over to you, sitting on the side of the bed. “Where am I?” “In my apartment. How are you feeling?” “What happened?” “I was hoping you could tell me that. You called me frantic, when I finally found you, you were hurt and completely out of it. Had to pull some connections to make sure the hospital would even let me take you home.” “What? Where’s Derek?” “Who are you talking about sweetheart?” “Derek? My boyfriend, he and I were camping and he had a cold and then he turned into a monster and…and…” “Shhhh.” He soothed, rubbing your back. “Hey, its okay, you’re safe now there’s no monsters. You’re okay, I’m here.” He adjusted himself so he could pull you closer into him encompassing you with his warmth and frame. 

The weight of his arms around you and the sound of his voice soothed you frantic mumbling as you sobbed into his chest, wetting the cotton fabric with snot and tears. He paid no mind, not letting up on the affection until it died down into sniffles and hiccups. You clung to him like a koala to a tree, desperate to feel better in some way, so overwhelmed with everything. 

Sleep quickly overtook you again, sleeping into dreamless unconsciousness against his form.

As always this is inspired by @explorevenus fic Something Permanent as well as @gigabyte-flare, @girldungeon, and @lipglossanon's work. @elfven-blog was so kind as to help find the banner pics. Love them all, go check out their work.

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[bidisastersanji]

Just published chapter 3 for the "Zoro learns french" story on AO3 if anyone's interested! Or you can read it right here (part 1, part 2, part 4) and under the cut:

“Sanjiiiiii,” the little doctor wails as he goes through the familiar motions of treating Sanji’s blood loss. “Who did this to you??” He sniffles loudly. “There are no mermaids here! I thought you were over this!” 

Next to him, Luffy absentmindedly picks his nose- seemingly amused by the situation- as the handful of straw hats gathered in the med bay whisper conspiratorially amongst themselves. What could have possibly caused the cook to pass out from a nosebleed?

Arms crossed under his chest, Zoro’s eye flits nervously to Robin’s and is unsurprisingly met with her ever impassive and mysterious smile, which he notes reach her eyes. She most likely heard everything, Zoro figures. Probably even popped one of her ears near them to hear better. Fuck, this was such a mess. He swallows hard, his mind still racing with the explicit thoughts Sanji had drunkenly admitted to. Not to mention the long-awaited confirmation that he has indeed been sleeping with men at various ports. So maybe learning French had come in handy. He’d never tell Mihawk though. 

“Et puis si tu savais ce que je te laisserais me faire- ” Sanji’s sultry words echo in his mind and Zoro’s ears feel dangerously warm at the memory. He really shouldn’t let himself imagine just what the cook would ‘let him do to him’. Fighting the unconscious impulse to screw his eye shut and shake this off, he follows Chopper’s movements in an attempt to distract himself from the lewd images he’s conjuring. He’s honestly surprised at the self-control he displayed earlier. He was so close to just yanking him by his stupid necktie, kissing him silly, locking his sinfully strong thighs around his hips and carrying him back to bed right then and there, the others be damned.  

He can still feel a tightness in his shoulder muscles from the restraint it took to just sit there and listen to the man’s rant. Before he can dwell any more on his struggle, he’s thankfully interrupted by the sound of Chopper speaking up cheerfully, seemingly satisfied with his work. 

“Sanji will be ok- he actually didn’t lose that much blood. Relatively. I think his training-” a snort from Usopp is quickly silenced by the doctor’s stern look. “must’ve kicked in. He should be fine by tomorrow morning; I've treated him with something that should help with his blood production.” 

The crew, happy to learn their cook will recover just fine, file out of the room to rejoin the festivities, and Zoro does his best to linger just a little longer to peek at the blonde’s soft curls and endearing sleeping face. And if a little bit of pride swells in his chest from knowing he’s the cause of this nosebleed, well...no one will know.  

He’s barely out of the room when he finds himself cornered by Nami. Damnit. 

“I know Sanji was with you when this happened.” the redhead gives him a serious, pointed look. 

Zoro scowls. ‘Yeah, and?” 

“And???” her hands fly, up, exasperated. “What happened?” 

“None of your business, witch.” 

“Oh? And I suppose your debt is none of my business too, you big brute? You wouldn’t mind me adding to it for insubordination, would you?” 

At the mention of his ever-growing debt to the navigator, Zoro’s left gaping down at her, mouth silently forming words in anger. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get me back for this, I’m the worst, blah blah blah.” Her eyes roll and her hands gesture him to move along. “Now tell me what happened. What could’ve possibly triggered Sanji’s nosebleed?” her eyes momentarily flit down to his chest and her lips curl to the side in a little smirk. 

“Unless... no, your tits are always out. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll take 0.5% off your debt.” 

Zoro sighs and relents. “I didn’t do much, he’s the one who came up to me and started screaming at me in French.” 

Nami stares him down with an unimpressed look. “And then...?” 

“And then I just answered him, and he passed out.” he grumbles out petulantly. 

“That’s so weird- wait. What do you mean you ‘answered him’?” brown eyes narrow at him. “In French?” 

“...yeah.” 

“...you speak French?” 

“Oui.” 

Pain flares on his head from the navigator’s swift punch. She has no sense of humour, damn. 

“Stop fucking around. Why would you of all people know how to speak French?” 

“You don’t believe me?!” he tries to keep his indignant scream as low as he can. 

“No- I’m saying that you wouldn’t go through the trouble of learning a language unless there was something in it for you- so there’s gotta be someth-” Nami comes to a realisation, and her eyebrows raise in shock, giving Zoro an appraising look. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You-” 

“Shut up.” 

By some stroke of luck, Nami leaves the elephant in the room alone, and returns to the matter at hand. “Ok, ok, so you speak French. I can only imagine what you must’ve said to get that kind of reaction from him, though.” She runs her hand across her face, tired. 

--- 

Sanji wakes up and is immediately blinded by the sun shining through the window. Ugh. He groans at the dull, pounding feeling behind his eyes and turns to his side to hide from the offending light. He’d definitely had too much to drink last night. 

He snorts into the pillow. He’d drunk so much he’d either dreamed or hallucinated that Zoro could speak French. Wow. His unfiltered imagination really went wild, didn’t it. He can almost hear the seductive words dripping like sex from dream Zoro’s lips, the rough timber of his voice causing a shiver to shoot up his spine and- 

A distinctive, sterile smell cuts through his train of thought. 

Wait. 

Is this the infirmary?  

He cracks open an eye, confirming his theory. This is the med bay all right. He groggily sits up, blanket falling from his torso, and catches a stain on his usually pristine white shirt from the corner of his eye. His chin drops to get a better look. Is that... blood? 

His blood. He’s had this happen enough times to recognise the results of a nosebleed. Grumbling, he throws his legs over the bed to stand up, annoyed at the prospect of having to scrub the stain out of his good shirt, when it finally hits him. The moment his feet touch the floor, the evening and his current predicament suddenly click together and bring his thoughts of hydrogen peroxide and baking powder to a screeching halt. 

A beat passes. 

Like a rubber band stretched tight, a myriad of thoughts is catapulted to the forefront of his mind, jumbling together in a mess of realisations. Zoro speaks French. Zoro sounds unfairly sexy when he does. How long has he spoken French. Where did he even learn it. Zoro probably overheard his conversation with Robin. Zoro understood the filthy things he told him. To his face. Zoro flirted with him. 

His face burns even brighter at the memory of that last one. Oh god. He even called his dick “big” right to his face. 

Well-versed in burying his feelings deep deep down (years of practice), Sanji staggers through his usual morning routine. Once back in the comfort of his kitchen, his hands go into autopilot mode as he preps for a big healthy brunch to revive his nakama from a long night of festivities. 

It takes him a second longer than usual to notice the creak of the door as someone walks into the kitchen, and he doesn’t bother turning around to see who it is, too busy trying to catch up on his cooking schedule from his late rise. Luffy will be up soon, and he needs to satiate the black hole that is his captain’s stomach. 

“Oi. Tu cuisines quoi.”  

(Oi, what’re you cooking.) 

“J’prépare un brunch bien gras. Je suis sûr que ça soulagera la gueule de bois collective.” Sanji absentmindedly answers the annoying swordsman. Tch. Always up in his business.  

(I'm cooking a greasy brunch. I'm sure it will help relieve the collective hangover.)  

“Ça sent bon. Je peux goûter?” (It smells good. Can I taste?) 

The mosshead’s gorilla arm comes into view from over his shoulder as he reaches to dip his hand into the batter Sanji’s whipping up, and the cook slaps his hand away and heavily crushes his foot without even breaking his rhythm.  

“Non. Bas les pattes.” 

(No. Paws off.) 

Zoro makes a disgruntled noise and properly steps up next to him, leaning his back against the counter. From his peripheral vision, Sanji notes him standing there, head turned towards him, looking at him cooking. Just looking. Odd behaviour for a marimo.  

Minutes pass before the swordsman’s voice interrupts the rhythmic sound of Sanji’s cooking, saving him from the panicked screaming in his mind: They’re speaking French. Zoro’s clumsy pronunciation is the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Why are they acting like this is normal. Why is he standing so close. And are they ever going to address what happened last night? All this stops at the sound of: 

“Et toi, je peux te goûter?” (And you, can I taste you?) 

Sanji’s breath hitches and he feels a warmth creep up his spine, to his neck, his ears, and all the way to the top of his head. He’s going to implode.  

Where did he learn to say that. He hears himself squeak out that very question, eyes looking down at the bowl of batter, pointedly ignoring the other man’s heated gaze. 

Zoro's deep voice rumbles in a low chuckle. “Ça ne répond pas à ma question. Ni à celle de hier soir.” 

(That doesn’t answer my question. Nor last night’s question.) 

Callused fingers suddenly grip his chin, and now he’s face to face with Zoro, who to Sanji’s surprise is sporting a dangerously tender expression, his hand moving up to cup his cheek. His voice is softer, this time. 

“Dis moi.” (Tell me) 

His chest aches. “Tell you what?”  

Sanji doesn’t like the vulnerability voicing his feelings in French makes him feel. It’s so much easier to revert to his usual abrasiveness. Safer. “I already told you how you drive me up the wall. What, do you want me to embarrass myself further by telling you how badly I’ve wanted you?” 

An expectant eye stares back at him. Patient. Silent. 

The blonde huffs and raises his flour-dusted hand to the one Zoro is gently cupping his face with. “You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met. Do you have any idea the self-control it takes to not just -“ he feels a tightness in his throat - he didn’t think it would be so hard to actually say it- “de ne pas te dire tous les jours combien je t’aime?” 

(-to not tell you every day how much I love you?) 

He blinks and Zoro’s lips are on his, soft and delicately pressing against his own like he could break at any moment. And boy does he feel like he could. He immediately starts pushing back, angling his head just so to deepen the kiss, melting from the sheer tenderness, his fingers still gripping Zoro’s hand where it lays, rough calluses against his soft skin.  

They briefly part for air but Zoro immediately dives back in like a man starved, tugging the cook by his hips to stand between his legs, and the blonde has to bite back a moan at the manhandling. Sanji’s arms loop around his neck and find purchase in his ridiculous green hair. 

-- 

Zoro will never get enough of kissing this man. It’s simply too intoxicating, and perfect, and everything he’s ever wanted. Which is why it’s with great reluctance that he retreats from this slice of heaven, if only to make sure his own intentions are clear. He can’t believe the bastard beat him to it. He’d walked in here with a plan to test the waters and flirt back- get a little revenge on the blonde from the way he made his brain short circuit the previous night. Maybe test out a few phrases he’d learned in those Harlequin books the pervy cook loves so much. What happened instead was so much better. 

He’s glad to be propped up against the counter because his knees feel weak at the raw, exposed emotion on Sanji’s face when he tells him–  

“Je t’aime.” 

A radiant smile. A wet laugh through misty eyes.  

“Imbécile.” (Idiot) 

The man buries his face in his neck and presses him close in an intimate embrace, holding tight at the back of his shirt. Zoro’s chest swells with love and he holds him back just at tightly, rubbing soothing circles on his lower back. 

“Ton imbécile.” (Your idiot.) 

#zoro x sanji #zosan fic #zoro learns french story #zoro learns french #one piece zosan #zosan #hope you guys like emotions #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #with a dash of my favourite thing #nosebleed sanji

[fictionalwh0ree]

hey!!! could you please do a dean winchester x reader where they play a game or something after celebrating a successful hunt and they end up confessing to each other or something like that? thanks!

best of five- dean winchester

summary: after wrapping up a hunt, you go for a drink with dean. he challenges you to a game of darts, but when the game is tied 2-2, dean ups the stakes, changing the entire trajectory of the night. word count: 2k warnings: drinking

going to the bar after wrapping up a case had become a tradition with you and the winchester boys. when your cases were in a nice city, you’d usually end up at a nicer bar, where it didn’t smell like piss and beer. one that was busy. your nights would usually end with you having hooked up with some guy there and dean taking some girl back to the room, meaning sam would room with you for the night. however, many of your cases happened in smaller towns. this meant you’d frequent shitty bars that reeked of cheap beer and piss. you enjoyed the atmosphere more, weirdly enough.

tonight had been one of those nights, you’d wrapped up a witch case in buttfuck, kentucky. usually, you’d go straight to the bar, not even stopping at whatever shitty motel you were staying at. but today, sam had called it a night early, asking to be dropped off. you and dean pushed for the younger boy to join you guys, but he insisted that you two go one your own, saying he had a headache and was sore all over. eventually, you agreed, taking him back before showering quickly and heading out. when you’d arrived at the bar, you weren’t even sure the place was open. the building was made of wood, old wood, and it looked like it was one gust of wind away from collapsing. that’s how you knew the drinks would be cheap.

you followed dean into the bar, immediately greeted by an older bartender. you took a seat at the bar and dean ordered the two of you a beer. you scoped the area, seeing some older men in cowboy hats and flannels with ripped off sleeves eyeing you. you also noticed the girls around. similar to the men, they were older, their shirts tied up at the front and bright red lipstick was smeared messily around their thin lips, their eyes glued to dean.

“jesus christ, these people are creeping me out,” you muttered to him.

“yeah, tell me about it,” dean laughed, making eye contact with a blonde lady. she smiled “seductively,” revealing lipstick stained teeth.

“i’ll call sam, let him know he should be sleeping in my room tonight. can’t imagine you leaving here home alone tonight,” you teased.

“ha ha,” he fake laughed.

“he might have to sleep in the car. i already know you’re going home with that guy over there,” he said, nodding his head towards the corner of the room.

you looked over in the right direction, met by the eyes of a man old enough to be your father. he smiled up at you, revealing his missing front tooth and the yellowing rest.

“oh yeah, he’s real cute,” you played along, rolling your eyes playfully.

dean sighed, looking around the poorly lit building. his eyes landed on a darts board, and he was immediately interested. he got a refill on your drinks before pulling you over.

“winner pays for drinks?” you said, collecting the darts from the board.

“you know it,” he said.

“best of five?” you asked.

“yep,” he confirmed, already picking up a dart.

dean had won two sets before you caught up, bringing the score to 2-2.

“sudden death?” you asked dean.

“uh huh,” he confirmed, face a little flushed.

“but, hold on,” he said, calling your attention, “what do you say we raise the stakes?”

“how so?” you smiled, interested.

thats when dean pulled a little bottle out of his jacked pocket.

“what is that?” you asked.

“i snagged it from that witch’s house. its the truth serum,” he said.

your mind flashed back to your case. yesterday, you’d been on the hunt for whatever was causing some odd deaths in the small town. you’d stopped at a diner for breakfast, and what you didn’t know at the time was that your waitress was a witch. she overheard your conversation and put in a couple drops of the truth serum into sams drink. she was interrupted by a coworker, explaining why neither you nor dean had it in your drink. for the following four hours, sam could not lie. it was hilarious to you and dean, you couldn’t stop laughing. when you’d found her den today, sam asked her what she did. she whipped out a small bottle with a dropper.

three drops of this and you can’t tell a single lie for hours, she’d said with a smug smile.

dean had been the one to finish her off, which is why he had the chance to grab the bottle, thinking it’d be funny for the future.

“loser takes three drops?” you asked.

“loser takes three drops,” dean confirmed.

“you’re on, winchester. be ready to spill your deepest and darkest secrets to me,” you smirked.

“yeah right,” he scoffed, “i’ll be hearing all about your wet dreams in ten minutes.”

“you wish,” you laughed, picking up a dart.

after an intense twenty minutes, you were losing. the score was 17-50. all you needed was one bullseye and you could win. you were on the last dart of your turn. you focused your eyes on the taunting red circle in the middle, drawing your hand back before pushing forward and releasing the dart. you watched as it landed right in the centre, granting you the winner.

“yes,” you cheered, turning to dean with your arms up in the air.

“no no, no way,” dean said.

“i win, you lose” you said, smiling childishly.

“you are so lucky,” he spoke, shaking his head with a smile.

“it had nothing to do with luck, buddy. this is pure skill,” you bragged.

“yeah right. was landing four darts on the floor pure skill?” he teased.

“that was all part of my master plan,” you lied.

“okay,” dean said sarcastically.

“you know what time it is,” you said, picking up the little bottle.

“i don’t know if this is a good idea, y/n,” he said.

“awe are you scared?” you said, mocking him with a pout.

“no,” he scoffed.

“perfect,” you said, dropping three drops into his beer, “drink up deano.”

he chugged the beer, slamming the cup onto the table. you watched as he opened his eyes slowly, looking at you.

“how do you feel?” you asked expectantly.

“great,” he said.

you looked at him, confused. for sam, it had hit almost instantly.

“i lied. i’m really nervous. please don’t ask me anything stupid,” he blurted, causing a smile to spread on your face.

“who was your first kiss?” you asked.

“i said it was mindy jones in eighth grade but it was actually jenna mcadams in grade ten,” he said.

“go to hell, y/n,” dean said.

“aw, you couldn’t live without me,” you teased.

“you’re right,” dean said before smacking his own face.

you smiled widely, your brain working hard to find a good question to ask him. you spitfired a couple dumb questions that left you clutching your stomach.

“okay okay. can we just go back now?” dean whined.

“fine, dean. give me your keys,” you said.

“my keys? why?” he asked.

“don’t you think you’ve drank a little too much to be on the road,” you asked.

“yes,” he said.

“perfect,” you smiled innocently, sticking your hand out towards him.

he rolled his eyes, reluctantly handing you the keys. he followed you out to his car and got into the passenger seat, you started the car up, picking out a mötley crüe casette and putting it in. as you started the car, you could feel dean’s eyes burning into the side of your head.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you joked.

“your music taste is really great, you know that? i mean i didn’t expect it from you but i wish it’d rub off on sam. sometimes i actually enjoy his girly shit,” he confessed.

“you like it?” you laughed.

“it’s catchy,” he said, followed by a quick, “don’t tell sam.”

you sped down the highway, kickstart my heart blasting. your window was open a little, wind blowing into the car and blowing your hair with it. it was almost a full moon and the streets were almost completely illuminated. you felt dean’s eyes on you once more. in his head, he couldn’t help but think about how perfectly the light framed your face, how it made you look almost angelic. he tried to pry his eyes from you and he prayed you wouldn’t notice him staring. he had vowed to keep his feelings for you to himself, thinking you didn’t feel the same, worried that your relationship would be ruined if he said something. he scolded himself in his head for the serum idea. he was soon broken out of his thoughts by your voice.

“you’re staring again,” you said over the music.

“sorry,” he apologized.

your eyes flicked to him quickly before you spoke again.

“so you gonna tell me why you were staring? do i have something on my face?” you asked.

“no, you just look really beautiful,” dean confessed.

“really what?” you asked, surprised and completely flattered, your cheeks heating up.

“really beautiful,” he repeated.

“you think i’m beautiful?” you asked shyly, biting your lip.

“i think you’re the most beautiful person out there,” he said.

“are you serious?” you asked, your face now hot as you held back a smile.

“well, i can’t lie,” dean said, matter-of-factly.

“dean, can i ask you something?” you said, to which he nodded.

you knew now was your chance. you really liked dean, you had for years, and you thought you felt a connection between the two of you sometimes. you’d seen the way he looked at you sometimes, you knew you were looking at him the same way when you could. you felt it when you made eye contact, when you laughed together.

“is there something between us?” you asked, eyes flickering anxiously between the boy and the road, “because i feel like there is, but i also feel like i could just be crazy.”

“i’d like there to be,” dean confessed.

“really? because i- i like you dean,” you said, making a confession of your own.

“i like you too. i have for a long time, since you started hunting with us,” he said.

“what do you like about me?” you asked, taking the opportunity.

“you’re evil,” dean smiled.

“mm, that doesn’t sound like something you like about me,” you joked.

“well,” he said before clearing his throat, “i like how your hair smells when you wash it. i like how peaceful you look when you sleep. i like how you glow when the light hits your face. i like the way you draw everyone’s attention when you step into the room. i like how easy it is for you to read people. i like how you always have sam and i’s back. i like how you care about us more than anyone ever has. i like how you don’t complain about having to listen to our problems and how you always know what to say. i like how strong and independent you are. i like how gentle you are when you patch me up. i don’t know what i don’t like about you.”

you had arrived at the motel and parked the car. it was quiet for a moment.

“i- i actually think i might love you.”

you looked up at dean, seeing the terrified look in his eyes.

“i love you too,” you smiled, pulling dean in by the shirt.

you kissed him hard, his lips moving with yours in perfect sync.

“you’re a great kisser. what do you say we take this upstairs?” dean said, making you laugh.

you nodded and followed him up to the room, his arms around your waist the whole time.

maybe the truth serum wasn’t a bad idea after all.

#dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester

[wordstome]

Shrike pt. 3 - who we are

König x high school sweetheart reader

2nd person, she/her pronouns, reader is Austrian/has lived in Austria and speaks German for most of the story, romance, pining, friends to lovers, reader's nickname is Thorn, König's first name is Alexander, absolute tooth rotting fluff, corny as hell towards the end

2.8k words

tw: physical and emotional abuse, violence (chokehold, stabbing, throat slitting)

Hello to everyone reading this from my main blog! In case you haven't seen the pinned post on bucca2, this is my new writing blog. Everything I publish will be here on wordstome now. Please feel free to unfollow bucca2 and follow me here!

also PARIS PALOMA TEASED HER NEW SONG "DRYWALL" JUST FOR SHRIKE CHAPTER 3 SPREAD THE WORD

[PART 1] [PART 2 (PREV)] [MASTERLIST]

What I had left here I just held it tight So someone with your eyes Might come in time To hold me like water Or Christ, hold me like a knife

When you’re in total darkness, your eyes adjust. You can see everything around you, but it’s all devoid of color. Then when the light turns on, it blinds you, but it’s better to be blinded momentarily than to live in the dark forever.

That’s how it feels as you prepare to travel home. To escape. You’re antsy, excited and petrified at the same time. Before, it felt like the days flew past in a murky haze. Now, even the seconds crawl.

It feels like moving in a dream, like you’ll wake up any day now and it will all be taken away from you. Your hope, your new dreams for the future, your König.

A shiver runs through you. Where did “your König” come from?

When you’re not occupied with the anxiety of keeping such a huge secret from your husband, all you think about is König. You’ve spent the past few weeks in a haze, like he’s put some sort of spell on you. You do get a kick out of imagining him as a witch with a hat and cauldron.

But you know it’s something simpler than that. All the feelings you used to have for him have returned.  It’s different than the heady rush you used to get with your husband. It feels sweeter, like you really are a teenage girl with a crush all over again.

It feels naïve, but you also don’t care. You feel safe despite the situation you’re still in, for the first time in a long time. You never would have expected to see König again—even less so for him to become your saving grace.

It seems silly in hindsight that you had been so frightened of him. Sure, the mask was a lot. But it had been something about his energy. It was different than you had ever felt from him, before or after your reunion. If he was that way on the battlefield, then no wonder he had earned the nickname König. You’re not sure if it scares or awes you.

You’re about to find out.

An anxiety attack is the worst feeling in the world.

You dry heave. Your chest feels like a roiling ball of angry carrion birds hollowing you out. You shake like a leaf in the wind. You fall down a long, dark pit of despair as your stomach seizes with nausea.

The train’s delayed. There’s been an issue with the tracks leading out of the city. No trains will be leaving for 12 hours.

You should have just sat in the terminal and waited, or tried to contact König, but you’re not thinking straight. All of your thoughts are focused on your husband, and what he’ll do if he comes home and finds you gone. You decide, somehow, that it would be wiser to throw yourself back into the lion’s den and pretend everything’s alright instead of waiting for him to come raging into the train station and pull you out by the hair. The thought of that is the only thing that gets you up off the wall you were hyperventilating against and back towards home.

The plan is to get home before he does and hide your suitcases. He’s usually not home by this time, anyway. You chalk the rising sense of dread in the pit of your stomach up to your anxiety and turn the handle to go in.

Fuck.

He’s standing in the kitchen.

The years have not been kind to him. He’s far from the charming young man you married. He’s wretched, unkempt, angry. It’s clear he’s been drinking, maybe even before he left work. The shadows etch themselves into the lines of his face as his expression twists into something awful, inhuman. You stand, frozen, as he approaches you.

“Planning a trip without me?” he asks with an awful grin.

You can still salvage this. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I just received word. My mother’s not doing well. I have to go see her.”

“You lie like a whore,” he snarls. “Don’t think I haven’t been paying attention. You’re different nowadays. Not the nice obedient woman I married.”

Your fear turns to anger in an instant. Years and years of this horseshit, waiting on him hand and foot, placing his smallest whims before your own needs and wants—it rushes up through you like hot steam. His nice obedient woman. And the worst thing is, you hate that he’s not wrong. That is what you’ve become.

“Yesterday I came home and you hadn’t even started dinner. Where were you, huh? Running around on me behind my back?” It’s difficult to describe, but his smile is oily: sleazy, untrustworthy, dangerous. “With that big fuck in a hood that came here with the mercenaries, perhaps?”

Your blood runs cold at that. Has he seen you with König? When? Why hasn’t he said anything? It feels like you’re stepping into a trap, but you must move forward if you want to get out.

“He’s going to get what’s coming to him, alright. My manager has a direct line to his boss. One word from him will get that fucker deployed to the middle of nowhere on a suicide mission.”

It’s an absurd threat, and you know it. This drunken idiot has no idea what he’s talking about—as if some middle-management bureaucrat could persuade a PMC to dispose of a soldier like König. But it’s the audacity that irks you. You’ve lived your life serving this man for too long, and now he thinks the world will bend to his whims. There’s absolutely no way he can touch König, but an old and familiar anger rises in you.

A long overdue revelation dawns on you now. He’s a bully. The same as Andreas: little boys with petty insults and empty threats. Pushing people around because their own lives are empty and unsatisfying.

An eerie calm breaks through you like the sky cutting through a storm. The man before you is just a feral animal, snarling and snapping in desperation. You’re not afraid of him anymore.

You reach behind you and slowly roll open the knife drawer, grabbing the first one your fingers land on.

“I’m leaving. I’m leaving this house, this country, and this marriage,” you say, gripping the knife in a defensive position. Your father taught you how to hold a knife like this: backwards, with the blade along your arm, sharp edge facing outwards.

“This way, it’s much more difficult for someone to turn the blade against you,” he had told you, demonstrating the motion by moving your arm towards your chest. The memory makes you smile. At the time, you’d been indulging your old man—he had always said that violence was a last resort, but that the world was unkind and one day you may have to defend yourself. He was right, just as he was when he told you he had reservations about your marriage.

You’re going home. You’re going to see your father again. And you’ll never have to tolerate the loathsome toad before you again.

The beast laughs. “What do you think you’re going to do with that? Stab me?” He’s up against you before you can react, the breath leaving your lungs in a gasp as he pins you against a wall by the throat.

“You. Are. Mine. You will never raise a hand against me because I own you,” he hisses, his alcohol-laced breath foul against your face. “And it’s high time you remembered that.” His grip tightens like an iron vice around your throat, but you’re not afraid. Even as your vision begins to blur and blacken, you stare directly into his eyes. They’re like red-hot coals of fury, but you see what’s behind them now. The fear. The cowardice of a desperate man who has no recourse but to lay his hands on someone who can’t fight back.

“You’re pathetic,” you rasp, lips tugging into a smile. The coals burn brighter. The hand squeezes tighter. The adrenaline surges through you like a tide—and your body acts to protect itself, in a way that you haven’t allowed it to in a long time. A feeling as sweet and familiar as an old friend.

The knife makes its home right between his ribs.

He staggers away from you, as if you had slightly winded him instead of stabbed him in the heart. Your hands instantly go to your throat as you cough and sputter, lightheaded and dizzy but alive, so alive. You’ve never felt so alive as you do right now, watching the demon of your own personal hell look down at the blade sticking out of him.

“You stupid little bitch—” He makes as if to lunge at you, but time slows. Your eyes widen as the shadows behind him melt and solidify into a figure. Tall and hooded. No knight in shining armor, but an assassin of deepest night.

König slashes through your husband’s throat in one deadly, beautiful motion.

Your husband falls to the ground like dead weight, gasping and choking on his own blood. Your eyes are fixed on him, a strange sensation bubbling through you. You’re making some kind of noise, loud and cacophonous, as König steps over the dying animal who has controlled you your whole adult life.

His arms find their way around you as you slowly sink to the ground, howling and wailing. He’s so patient, you think numbly with some corner of your mind that remains untouched by the mania seizing the rest of you. The two of you sit there, his body warm and solid against yours, as your body slowly exits fight or flight mode.

“Alex?” you say hoarsely once you’re in your right mind again.

“I’m here,” he rumbles.

You turn to look at him as he pulls the hood off his head. There he is, your Alexander, all grown up. He’s rugged, with nasty-looking white scars streaked across his face, but so, so handsome. His eyes are still the same as he looks at you with something akin to rapturous adoration. Your green-eyed boy.

“You’re back, rosethorn,” he says with a wide grin. There’s a touch of madness to it, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Was I…” Exhaustion sets in, seeping through your whole body. “Was I crying or laughing just now?”

He shifts you onto his lap, cradling you like a baby as you look up at him.

“I think you were laughing.”

The police release you after just over half an hour of questioning.

You aren’t going anywhere, of course. They’re leaving you, exiting your hospital room with murmurs of well-wishes for your health. They’ve hardly left the room when König comes striding in, instantly moving to your bedside and holding your hand in his.

He looks tired too, his eyes soft as he takes in your small smile. You’re sure he was being interrogated for much longer than you, but it looks like he passed muster as well. Not as if you had anything to worry about—what could the local police have done to the commander of the mercenaries taking down their local terrorist cell anyway?

“Are you alright? Did they clear you?” His expression hardens as he glances at your neck. You nod weakly. Your throat is going to be bruised for a while, but your attacker hadn’t done any lasting damage.

Attacker. Husband. Corpse. All of these words describe the same thing now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner,” he says mournfully. “He shouldn’t have had the chance to attack you like that.”

You shake your head at him. He didn’t know that you weren’t on the train heading home, after all. The room is quiet for a few moments, save for the distant beeping of a heart monitor.

“Why…” you manage to ask. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“Why was I there?” He glances around to make sure nobody’s listening, and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I was there to kill him, of course.”

You shudder a little. He admits it so casually, that he was in your house because he was there to commit a murder. You should be afraid of him, but you feel around in your brain and come up empty-handed.

Instead, you find yourself worried. For him. “What if you had gotten in trouble?”

He snorts. “You underestimate me, rosethorn. I would have just framed it as a robbery.”

You nod. Oh God…does that mean he had planned this? Why doesn’t that horrify or disgust you? You’re just going to have to dissect that later. Right now, you only feel a warm affection towards the man stroking his thumb along your hand in a soothing motion.

“So…what comes next?”

“You’re asking me? We can do whatever you like. I can take you home.”

Home. Where is that, now? It’s certainly not in the house you’ve left behind, where the ghost of the man you were married to settles in every nook and cranny. It doesn’t feel like your childhood home where your parents are, either.

It’s such a corny saying, “home is where the heart is”. But home feels like it’s already here, sitting next to your hospital bed with the fondest look in his eyes.

“I’d like to travel,” you whisper. The with you goes unspoken.

“I have plenty of leave time saved up.”

You flip your hand so you can hold his. It’s huge next to yours. This is the hand that slit your husband’s throat, a hand that has killed countless people.

You’re not sentimental enough to pretend that’s not an issue. You’re not entirely sure this is happily ever after: that all of your problems are solved because you’ve replaced one violent man with another. But another part of you yearns to be the one who gets protected. You’ll take care of König, and you know he’ll take care of you. In his own way.

You can ask the questions later. Right now, you have lost time to make up for.

“Are you sure you should be wearing that scarf?”

The air is cold, but the wind is soft instead of feeling like tiny blades against your face. You tug said scarf down from your face and take in a lungful of crisp, icy air.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure König as he hauls himself up the last ridge to where you’re standing. “It’s loose enough. And it’s chilly.”

“If you say so.” He tugs his neck gaiter further up his nose. “What a view, hm?”

You’re standing on Mont Blanc, blanketed by serene white snow just as the name promised. Further below you, the skiing slopes are crawling with tourists, but here in this little outcropping, the only sound is the occasional rush of wind and your voices.

“I think I can see Salzburg from here,” you say, pointing off into gorgeous landscape spread out before you.

“That is most certainly still Switzerland,” König says, amused. You turn to look at him instead and are rewarded with his shining green eyes looking right back at you.

“Whatever!” You let out a dissatisfied hmph, which draws a hearty laugh from him.

“You came all the way to Chamonix just so you could look at Austria again?”

“It’s a very tall mountain,” you argue.

“It’s one of many very tall mountains. We could have just gone to Großglockner.”

“That’s boring. I’ve always wanted to visit France.”

“You wanted to visit a very expensive ski chalet.”

“Bite me.”

“I just might!” You giggle and squeal as he grabs you, chasing your face with his as you squirm around.

“It is beautiful,” he concedes as he holds a hand above his eyes to keep off the sun. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

“I should push you off this peak right now.”

“You couldn’t move me an inch.” He grabs you by the waist and holds you tight to emphasize his point. You can’t even shift his arms off you, no matter how hard you push.

“Ok, fine, you win.” You pout at him, but he doesn’t let you go.

The dynamic the two of you share is so easygoing and relaxed, it’s like you had a rhythm all along that both of you just fell back into. But of course, there are some things you’ve never done together. Like travel together.

Or kiss.

“Are you going to do it this time?” you ask him, smiling.

His nose wrinkles up, uncharacteristically cute for someone like him. “Well, I was going to, but then you had to open your mouth.”

You cackle. “Go on then.”

“Can I?”

“I just said yes!”

“I forgot how much you like to talk,” he complains. Before you can say another word, he captures your lips in his.

The sky is vivid and blue as the whole world stretches out before you.

#RIPBOZO

Here we are! We're at the end of this little story I started writing on a whim. Honestly, this means a lot to me personally: I wrote a lot when I was younger, but high school and university were very difficult times for me, and I stopped writing fanfiction. I tried to get back into it during the pandemic, but I was never able to finish anything beyond a long-ish drabble. I'm quite proud of this.

Even still, I feel like there are a lot of stories that I still want to tell about this couple. There's quite a lot that I decided to cut from these main 3 chapters for the sake of pacing and time. There's a little bit of dissatisfaction at not having crammed in every little detail that I wanted, but if there's one thing that writing university papers has taught me, it's that perfectionism will keep you from getting anything done. So you will be getting more from Alex and Thorn in the future!

I know a lot of you were anticipating what delicious revenge König was going to exact on Thorn's husband, so I hope you weren't too disappointed ;; While I personally would have loved to have König strap him to a chair in the basement and do some morbid things with a knife, I think it was important for Thorn's character that she's involved in it. While of course the main focus of this story is König, Shrike is also about his beloved Thorn. I hope to explore König and the darker (and pervier) aspects of his character more in subsequent stories. But for now, they're getting a well-deserved happy ending.

One last thing before I go: Chamonix is a resort town in central/southeast France, not far from Lyon. (Sorry, I don't know whether Lyon is south enough to be considered southern France lol). Mont Blanc is Chamonix's main peak of the Alps, and is known for how pretty it is and being at the border of France, Switzerland, and Italy. As König said, if you wanted to visit a mountain as an Austrian, there are several of them at home you could visit, but since I visited it a few years ago, Chamonix has a special place in my heart. I just had to cram it in!

As usual, I'm excited to see your comments and feedback. I've read every single thing everybody has commented about this fic, even if I couldn't respond to you all, and I appreciate it so deeply. Whenever I get feedback I literally feel like kicking my feet and giggling. And if you want to ask questions or request specific scenarios with Thorn and Alex, please do send me an ask!

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @kneelingshadowsalome @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @fireballoveraltanta

psst. to my tag list people while I have you here: naturally I will continue tagging you in other Shrike stories, but I'll also be using this same tag list for every other König fic I write. If you'd like to opt out of that, let me know. (No hard feelings, of course :3)

#könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #fic:shrike

[moonmingi]

*The following content is just an idea I would like to have for my IF, so they may change in the future!*

*this IF has a long way to go because I have just begun to learn coding. The prologue may be out in a few months so please bear with me😭*

* English is not my first language and I’m not fluent yet but I'm trying! *

* This is also a what-if and the event happened in this will not be canon in my main verse. Treat this like a fanfiction(?) for my own satisfaction if you will hehe *

Demo TBA

CRIsis-if

Living life as a tired, ordinary human, you try to fight the challenges each day brings. However, a strange event unfolds. A massive black cosmic sphere floating at the center of the city—or perhaps even the entire world. What makes it even more strange is that you appear to be the only person who see this.

After that, you start seeing… “strange phenomenon" like floating hamburgers, distorted floating faces trying to harm you, and liquid cats? Well, the last one seems usual, but it still scared the shit out of you. The common thing between them lies in the unsettling sensation they evoke from you. Like you should not be seeing them.

Not only that but now, three celestial beings beyond your imagination extends their hand towards you, urging you to use them. their objective is clear: to get rid of the ominous black floating sphere that appears in your vision. They insist that its elimination is crucial,said that there will be consequences if left unsolved. Yet, much like yourself, they seem uncertain about the precise ways to stop this. Could there be hidden truths or intentions that some of them are withholding from you? Can you even get rid of that thing? Should you just accept your fate?

Great!, your boring existence is not so boring anymore, and strangely enough, you're quite content with it. After all, they've promised to cover your daily meals forever. Who could resist such an offer, am I right?

Selection :

- male, female, non-binary and trans!💕

- select your personality ( shy, hot-headed, cold, happy, charismatic etc. )

- be friendly or hostile. Romance the ROs or not. ( or maybe all of them👁️👁️)

- solve various puzzles with various ways

- choose a celestial being to go on an adventure with ( this will not lock you from pursuing others)

- choose your meals. Don’t worry, they will pay for you

Some ROs are gender-selectable ( M/F ) * will be added later and the ROs will be about 5-6 *

𝕰𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊 𝕹𝖊𝖛𝖚𝖑𝖆; ( Star witch ) ( F ) ( she/her ) ( 182 cm. ) ( es-tel ne-bew-lar )

A formidable and mesmerizing enchantress, 𝕰𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊 𝕹𝖊𝖛𝖚𝖑𝖆 is the most powerful witch among her witches peers. Delicate, curly white hair with a sparkling purple luminescence, she defies the laws of physics in your world—floating effortlessly and granting others the same out-of-world experience. Sharp, captivating red eyes have an unwavering intent, perhaps fueled by the desire to get rid of the black sphere. Her powers are hard to contain, delivering deadly force from a large distance. But, these magic comes at a cost—mana depletion and aging for user that are mortal such as you.

Appearance; Estelle have an untouchable allure, her fiery red eyes reminiscent of the sun's intensity. She wears a flowing, regal purple dress, a lantern at the center of her body, casting a mystical glow. Atop her delicate, curly white hair rests a grand witch hat, both shimmering with a purple luminescence. The ensemble is completed by her purple opera gloves, where sharp nails threaten to tear through the fabric, adding a touch of’ not-to-mess-with-me ‘. As she traverses the sky, a radiant, glowing star becomes her companion, maybe all the beautiful comets that you used to make wishes to are made by her.

Choosing Estella Nebula as your guide you’ll :

- Be able to floats and travel through the sky

- Use star witch magic such as Dazzling Star, Galactic Resonance, Star Witches burden, and many more

- Have a Tsundere, cruel, but actually lovely lady by your side ( Is there anything more perfect than this? I don’t think so )

- Need to be careful when using powers, it can drain you greatly.

Trope: Stranger to Friend/Lover, Tsundere, Sad and Angsty, Forbidden Love,

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨; (???) ( M ? ) ( he/him ) ( 175 cm. ) ( Chan-oo )

Yes, just 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨; you try to ask for his full title, but he insists you call him "𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨." Much like his elusive name, Chanwoo's persona remains mysterious. Playfulness defines him, but a hint of hostility lurks beneath the surface behind those golden eyes. His words carry a sweet ambiguity. A charmer indeed, he has an aura that captivates all who meets him. He has the ability to shape-shift into various forms, he enjoys the excitement, pain and emotions of human. Finding immense amusement in teasing humans, he was even amused by being labeled as an incubus by bystanders.

Appearance ; Chanwoo has an outstanding appearance—a cascade of short pink hair frames his face, he has bright golden eyes, contrasting from his overall suspicious appearance. His word carry sweet-lies that most will still believe. He wears sleeveless turtleneck with leather pants and platform boots. Chokers also are around his neck. He smiles and with a wink, say that it’s there to hold his ‘ hunger ‘

Choosing Chanwoo as your guide you’ll :

- Transform into shadow

- Charm people easily ( this will save you a lot of trouble if you don’t want to fight )

- Playful banters.

- You must let him draw sustenance from you, whether it be from normal excitement or that...more intimate desire

- Not get help. in certain scenarios, he may choose not to lend his power. He takes pleasure in watching you struggles, finding amusement in the difficulties of your situations rather than offering a helping hand.

( What does it mean? It means that in some situations if you pick the other divine being. They will try to help you throughout but Chanwoo, in his weird-ass nature, may not help. But—don’t worry, the result will remain the same. You just need to solve additional puzzle and read more stories, >:)

Tropes: Enemies to Friend/Lover(?)/Enemies, Hardcore teasing(😩), Fling, Toxic Undertones, Forbidden Love

Daniel Blackma; (Death itself) ( no specific genders but appears male) (he/him) ( 173cm. ) (Dan-niel Black-ma)

The death itself, he said he is just a replacement for the old ‘ death ‘, whatever that may be, and he is here to help you through the strange events. He is very quiet, almost mute but when he speaks, it’s straightforward and demands attention. He has a cold and uncaring look to him but is actually really naive. He know nothing about your world and can act child-like sometimes. He has the ability to decays everything if touches, and sometimes cannot control it. So he always ask you to not touch him much or you’ll hurt. But he doesn’t mind hurting people and will do it if that mean his goals will be succeed.

Appearance ; Daniel is formally dress, but with styles. With a black-long coat contrasting with his white t-shirt. He also wears a black business pants with leather shoes, and a little bit of accessories. He has a black-neck length hair with a small strands covering a bit of his profile. Overall, he looks ‘ fitted-in ‘ more than the others and perhaps, even more stable in a way. Daniel exudes a powerful aura but also he, himself, is actually really bad at, well, living, because he never get out much from his own realms. Daniel always looks blank. With no emotions presenting on his face and will make every decision that is made get done that way too.

Choosing Daniel Blackma as your guide you’ll :

- have the ability to destroy things

- deals with his child-like behavior ( sorry not sorry;)

- make more planned plans and be more calm in worrying situations

- do a bit of magic such as death wish, decaying feelings etc. ( this so emo AHAHHAJS )

Tropes: Stranger to lovers, cold shoulder, angst, learning to love

Lastly, I will be open for ask. You can ask about the story( you’ll not get much info tho cus spoilers hehe )or even talk to the ROs TYSM FOR READING 💕❤️

#interactive fiction #if update #twine game #twine interactive fiction #original character #wip game #I don’t know how to code yet but i’ll try ahahahah #CRIsis-if

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Round 2

Propaganda:

Amuro -

"Being a Newtype is just space autism to me. But also he sucks at falling in line in a structured environment, would rather work with machines than talk to people, and is only allowed as a child soldier because he's the bestest at big robots."

Kyouya -

"what's there to say? you know him. you love him. vote kyoya."

Euini -

"I relate a lot to his social anxiety, especially his performance anxiety that occurs when he's being watched by people, particularly due to his stress at needing to follow the plan/do things the "proper" way in order to not feel like he's a failure. he also stands like a lil autistic kid and i appreciate him so much for that.

(LIGHT SPOILERS) basically, he has a test that he needs to take in order to advance as a witch, and he keeps failing it because he cant perform properly while being watched by other people, even though he knows the "right" spells to use and why he's supposed to use them. on his third attempt of the test, he's prepared a "script" to use so that he can follow it and not worry about failing in the moment (in this case, his script is a hand-written book of the proper spells to use and the order in which he's supposed to use them), but when a part of the exam changes, he's no longer able to follow his script. because he's been taught all his life that there's only one proper way of doing things, his way of thinking is very rigid and he's not able to deviate from his plan without panicking. luckily, one of his fellow examinees (richeh from the autistic anime girls poll 💕) is able to convince him to try and change the way that he does things to something that is more attuned to his personal needs- basically change the way that he casts his spells and which spells to use so that he doesn't need to struggle with doing things in the way that everyone says that he should; the way that he cant seem to manage. but, even before richeh helped him with that though, he was still finding way to modify the "proper" spells a little bit to better suit his weaknesses. he was trying so hard to fit in to the mold that witch society gave him, but it just wasnt right for him and he was making it work however he could."

Aoi -

"He has a very devoted special interest in the idol Takada-chan, which he frequently imagines in fights and other situations… the moment someone (Itadori) expresses equal interest in something he is passionate about, he immediately declares them besties and brothers and creates a whole elaborate shared history for them that doesn’t actually exist. He’s not really interested in connecting with people who don’t share his interests. He’s seen as somewhat strange and eccentric. Though in the present he is respected because of his strength as a sorcerer, as a child he was very isolated."

Floyd -

"Has no emotional regulation skills and will make it everyone's problem. Prone to mood swings and can get angry at the drop of a hat, but can also be so goofy, silly, and lovely. Sways side to side for that good good stim, and loves to squeeze others (with violent intent and affectionate intent). Who doesn't love a good pressure stim? His interest in things can be fleeting, and his motivation to do things can change as quickly as his mood. Spontaneous and feral extraordinaire."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Ash -

"he just has those vibes ya know?"

Shou -

"His special interest is math. He uses math terms in regular conversations and calls people yoctograms/zeptograms which earned him monikers such as "math man" and "pi-face". Speaking of Pi, he once shouted 155 consecutive digits of it through a megaphone just because he could. He's so normal."

Sunny -

"Sunny has been told that his face is not expressive. He doesn't talk a lot and he often gets lost into his imagination. He is a great listener and recalls a lot of information being told he has a great memory (he is able to remember a whole speech about flower symbolism that his friend told him) He is compared to a cat."

Yuu -

"He’s like if an emo programmer boy was also completely unhinged and also had a tragic backstory."

#tumblr polls #autistic anime boys poll #prelims #amuro ray #mobile suit gundam #kyouya ootori #ouran high school host club #euini #witch hat atelier #aoi todo #jujutsu kaisen #floyd leech #twisted wonderland #apollo justice #ace attorney #ash ketchum #pokemon #shou minamimoto #the world ends with you #sunny #omori #yuu ishigami #kaguya-sama: love is war

[zoeysdamn]

Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Epilogue

A/N: /!\ Hold up! did you read Part.8?? Also, bonus aesthetic to celebrate the last part of this fic!

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6] [Part.7] [Part.8]

Three weeks later

Nevermore closed its doors sooner than usual. After the passing of Principal Weems, the semester had to be cut short, which meant a longer spring break for the students. Most of them were secretly glad of it, and to be fair Xavier was among them. The reason for this elongated holiday was dreadful, but a break from school could do him some good. Standing in the passageway of the first floor above the quad, he gazed at the crowd of students getting ready to go home. He made a mental note to bid Ajax goodbye before his friend left. 

 “Hello Xavier,” greeted a voice beside him. 

He turned his head to the side to be greeted by the sight of a woman cladded in a very sophisticated black outfit, dramatic black hat and sunglasses. She looked intimidating, but he knew better. “Hello Miss Cordelia,” he greeted your aunt. “I didn’t know you were picking up Y/N.”

“I’m not,” she said flatly, “but I wanted to make sure of a few things.”

 Approaching the ledge she followed Xavier’s eyes fixated on you, currently hugging Enid goodbye, no doubt promising to text her during the holiday break. 

 “Does she remember anything?” asked your aunt in a surprising soft tone. 

“Of the disease? Most of it. About me, she remembers more and more every day,” said Xavier, not tearing his gaze away from you. 

Aunt Cordelia hummed pensively, in appreciation. A long moment of silence followed, before Xavier spoke up again. 

“How is that even possible?” he asked your aunt, “I thought removing the flower with a surgical operation would make her forget about me completely.” 

Your aunt sighed, indicating how little she knew about this too, “I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to come here, the doc had said that during the surgery, the flowers’ roots were already not clutched around the lungs and heart anymore.”

Xavier frowned, not getting where she was getting at, “Why does it matter?”

“It’s the forceful removal of the roots that triggers the memory loss,” explained the elder witch. “Or we think it’s the source of it. But given that he hadn’t to tear it out…I’m wondering if that’s why she still has some memories of you.” 

At her words, Xavier’s eyes widened slightly, “You think she can actually remember everything one day?”

“It’s possible,” shrugged Cornelia, “after all, you said it yourself, her memory is recovering day by day.” 

 His heart thumped in excitement at the prospect. Xavier had dared to imagine this possibility but…hearing someone else confirming his theory was something else entirely. 

 Fixing her sunglasses on her nose, your aunt continued, “I’ve spoken to a certain Miss Bianca Barclay, I assume you’re familiar with her?”. At Xavier’s nod she continued, “She told me what she had done for Y/N with her siren’s song; it’s most likely that’s what caused the flowers and their roots to retreat from around her heart.”

“You mean that Bianca might actually have saved Y/N?” said Xavier in surprise. 

Aunt Cordelia eyed him from head to toe and let out a small laugh, “Well, her, you, Miss Sinclair and that new roommate of hers. So thank you, Xavier.” 

 His eyebrows rose up in surprise. For as long as he had known your aunt, Xavier couldn’t remember the last time she had actually thanked someone. Witches’ pride or something like that. 

 “I must go,” she said sharply before Xavier could add anything. “Take care of my niece Xavier.”

“I will,” he assured. 

She offered him a thin smile before rummaging in her hand bag, “Oh one second, here,” she said, handing him a small vial, “as a thanks.”

“What is this?” he frowned. 

“It’ll help to get the last petals out,” she explained and let out a small snort at Xavier’s expression painted in surprise. “You must be in the end of the healing process now, according to the petals you cough.”

“How did you…?”

“Oh honey, you’re not half subtle as you think you are,” she said with a sweet voice, before turning serious again, “At least I can content myself at the thought you had a taste of what she went through for you.” Xavier’s wince made her brush away her last bitter comment with a vague gesture of her hand. “But you’re healing; the more she remembers how much she loves you, the more you heal. Knowing her,” she said, casting one last fond look at your figure downstairs, “it won’t be long.” 

 With that, she disappeared to a nearby corridor. For a few seconds Xavier stood on his spot in astonishment, but then chuckled at your aunt’s antics. Grabbing his backpack he walked down the stairs, where he saw you talking with Wednesday from afar. He couldn’t hear what you were saying but you both seemed cordial to each other. You even handed her a wrapped box, giving her a phone. Wednesday didn’t hug you, but a tiny smile definitely crept on her face before she turned and walked away sharply. Taking this as his cue, Xavier strolled next to you, sliding an arm around your waist and dropping a kiss on your forehead when he came by your side. 

 “Hey,” he said softly, “you’re good?”

Smiling at him you nodded, “Yep. I think that Wednesday and I needed to bury the war hatchet.”

“Did it work?” 

“She did try to kill Crackstone to save us,” you admitted. “And she apologized, the counts are even. And maybe I’ll miss my creepy roommate after all,” you added with a playful nudge on his side. 

 Xavier let out a laugh, and the two of you made your way to the school’s gates. While you packed your bags in the trunk of the car Xavier’s dad had sent for the two of you, you stopped for an instant and looked back at the school. It had become your house over the years, but more importantly it had brought you a sense of normality even among werewolves, sirens and vampires. It has brought you friends, and so much more. 

 You felt Xavier’s hand sliding into yours. 

 “You okay?” he asked softly. 

 Looking up at him, you gazed deeply into his brown eyes. This, this place, this moment, was what made everything click altogether, and all the things that have seemed fuzzy fall into place. 

 “I love you,” you breathed out. 

 The grin on Xavier’s face was everything. 

 “I love you too sweetheart,” he said before kissing you softly. 

 The annoyed honk from the car made you pull away a few seconds later, giggling like kids and you tugged on Xavier’s hand to the vehicle. In your newfound euphoria, you missed the faint cough coming from him, but it didn’t matter. As the car led the both of you away from the school, the last petal Xavier would ever cough laid on the cobblestone of Nevermore.

A/N: Aaaand there it is! The last part of the fic finally out! :DD I hope you enjoyed it and that the ending didn’t disappointed you too much! 

I really want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you, finishing a fic is always like a sort of sad goodbye and I swear I’m crying a little by writting those words. 

I loved writting every parts, but more than that I loved exchanging and talking with you about it, whether for crack thoughts, or theories! You were incredible and the kindest readers I could ever ask for, so thanks a billion time for your support and you kindness! (especially your tolerance for my crappy English, it’s the first time I’m cristing something this long in such a short time, in a language which isn’t my mother tongue!)

Thank you for the laughs, the cry, the crazy demands to be tagged (we have 119 tagged people!! This is insane for me!!), and if you ever want to rant or talk about the fic, or anything in general, I’m always here! 

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

-Zoey

Taglist: (no need to ask at every chapter, you're added once, and you're added for the whole fic :D)

@apocalypticnova @libdarkheart @ameliabs-world @certifeidlovergirl @aeisnoa @cat-loves-music @coolchick333 @eringaitskill @sweaterxav @sssleepless @l4venderia @persipeoni @coldheartedmar  @littlebabyk @pinksirensong @nushy @raribella @igotanidea @ali-r3n @chaosfrisur

@miinnttyy @hershey2813 @queenofshinigamis @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @imtherealslimmoony @one-oblivious-nerd @amphitritesangels @valckenaux @aliciahlewis @lilsunshine1092 @ell0ra-br3kk3r  @ahmya-4 @katkoosik @maggie-da-rat @hopelessnessforthehopeful @mk-the-great @neenieweenie @steviesbergthuis @rayliz793 @poison-ivy-737 @katiemrty @vanillaarr @corpsebridenightamare @ghswlz @siriusblacksl0ver @poppyalice2001 @mypsychoticlove @jointherebellion215 @siriwhitewolf @teaganthemorningstar @oblivion-void @fandomstoryreader25 @darkdaydreamer @maddiechapman15 @hannahnikohl @pajerita19 @i-like-trains @tinafuentes @slngarza @lqveharrington @honethatty12 @users09 @athenalive @sunnytkm23 @mjpark15 @joselyn001 @mermaid-painter@sagegreeeeen  @sunnyteume @vaebeau @spencershotwife @negasonicteenagefathead @iamlycan @meilvr @alessioayla

@sucker4angstt @levylovegood @bananasplits-world @thekidscallmebosss @reallysparklychaos  @lauratstrange @nj01 @tiktoks-aphrodite @lovesickollie @rihnnx @v-i-o-l-e-t @mystic-collector-nature-blog @oliveswiftly@namjoonswaifu @l-3rk @ghwoticz @kassieesworld @1-800-ch3rry  @cmac-writes @nani-2305  @mystery-shadow-dust-blog  

Usernames unfound by Tumblr:  

@flowersownme @eileen201804 @peacheskiwi @spiceyhotsherbet @ramiiroll @theweirdone2468 @tempressofthetarot @bambi-munson @apollo3475  @hes-club @cafeaueva @engenelxver @honestlyka @itssomeonereading @wifeyofeveryone @alzeberry  @hayleesworld96  @noelyccf  @bugwritesstuff  @rubydubytuby  @imheretobeinvisible @henrycreel86

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #xavier x y/n #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thrope imagine #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

[nerdykorgi]

Obligatory Evelyn Appreciation Post

Is it just me or anyone else imagine her as your stereotypical witch lol? Cloaks, brooms, hats and all lol (She laughs like a witch too :) )

I cant blame Caleb, I would follow this witch into hell as well

#caleb wittebane #the owl house #toh #evelyn clawthorne #toh flapjack #flapjack toh #Why did get attached to her she has literally never appeared on screen lmao #witteclaw #caleb x evelyn

[luvrlou]

Get Out Of Your Own Way

Pairing: Matt Press x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, drug use, underage drinking, Matt is a warning in itself

Summary: Matt Press can never seem to get out of his own way.

A/N: Why is there no Press imagines!

Word Count: 2.1k

If Y/N L/N was asked who she most hated in the entire world, she would answer with Matt Press in a heartbeat. Where to even start with him? Some would say he's a dick others would be straight up and label him a sociopath. Conventionally, he was attractive, tall, had dark hair and always had this mysterious glint in his eye, that's what caused the girl to dislike him even more.

"Halloween, the one night of the year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it," the iconic words of Cady Heron projected from the small tv in Diana's bedroom.

"Di! Is this too much?" Y/N questioned, twirly around the room in a pair of black spandex shorts, a black crop top with purple zip and a witch hat placed messily on her head.

"Some would say not enough babe!" She replied, "put these on," she instructed chucking a pair of black heels towards her friend.

Tonight the two girls were headed to a Halloween party thrown by some kids in the year below, it was in this boy, Brodie's, basement. The pair were invited by a close friend of his called Abby Littman, Y/N didn't know her that well but Diana had known her since she was one year old.

"So what are you being?" Y/N asked the ginger girl sitting on the floor across from her.

"An angel!" She smiled grabbing the wings and halo next to her and placing them on. She stood up and did a spin, "tada!"

"Get your heels on so we can leave," the H/C girl ordered, switching off the tv, "we'll just walk, yeah?"

"Sounds good!" Diana grins, grabbing her friend by the hand and running down her stairs, locking her door behind her and heading in the direction of the party.

"Mothers lock up your sons!" Y/N yells as the pair enter the party hand in hand.

"Y/N and Di are here!" The other girl finished, receiving a chorus of cheers from the massive amount of teenagers in the basement.

"Di, come get a drink with me!" Y/N shouted over the noise.

The pair slipped through mountains of intoxicated people and poured themselves two cups of vodka, lemonade and blackcurrant juice. They clinked cups and downed their drinks giggling softly to each other before pouring themselves the same again.

"Let us mingle!" Diane croaked in a weird voice causing her friend to burst out laughing, they both parted ways and went to mingle.

"Glad to see you embracing your true self as a witch!" A male's voice boomed, followed by an obnoxious giggle.

"Lovely to see you too Matt," She pulled a tight-lipped smile, "Samantha," she nods towards the other girl.

"Awe, don't be so jealous of our Sam," he taunted, pulling a faux pout.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "I'm not jealous, I just don't like her simple as that."

"Don't need to be so rude!" The girl on the couch complained.

"Shut up Samantha," Press quipped before turning to glare at the girl in front of him.

"I'm away for a drink, bye Matty!" Y/N teased, grinning.

"And I'm joining you!" He added, clearly trying to wind her up.

She groaned and made a break for the kitchen.

"So Y/N, you do realise that you're meant to dress up as something for Halloween?" He laughed as she grabbed a bottle of vodka.

"Matt, you do realise that being a dick doesn't need to be your only personality trait?" The girl spat back, filling up her cup with vodka, and adding almost equal part lemonade.

"Woah, you have enough lemonade for your vodka?" Press asked taking the bottle off of her as she attempted to add even more into her cup.

Y/N smiled, "aren't you so cute caring about me," her smile dropped, "now fuck off and play with your little toy, she's waiting for you!"

He grunted in annoyance before walking off with a beer.

"It's shot o'clock!" Abby's voice rang through the small basement. All of the drunken teenagers gathered around the table tennis table and started to pound on it.

A chant of "Tiny sips, tiny flips!" bounced around the walls of the basement as Abby walked around pouring everyone a shot, Y/N stood oppisite Norah, a girl she knew fairly well.

When it came to her and Norah's turn Norah sent Y/N a quick smile before they both grabbed their shots and downed them, they tried to flip their cups, both messing up and sending the cups flying.

"Better luck next time sweet cheeks!" Press cackled his arm hooked around Samantha. Y/N sent the boy a middle finger, causing Diana to burst out laughing from behind her.

"Holy shit Di! You scared me!" Y/N drunkenly chuckled, embracing her friend. The pair walking off, "let's get more shots."

"You know how glad I am to have picked you to be friends with!" Diana commented, stumbling over to the kitchen, Y/N on her arm.

The girls grabbed a bottle of tequila rose and two shot glasses, pouring shots and linking arms, downing them.

"I could drink this all day!" Diana dreamily exclaimed.

"We can!" Y/N cheered, taking the bottle by the neck and pouring some of it down her throat.

Diana snatched the bottle drinking it wistfully slipping to the floor, Y/N joining her. Despite the partygoers coming and going from the kitchen, no one really paid much attention to the two girls tanning the bottle of creamy alcohol.

"Shit it's done," Y/N whined, sliding herself to lie down on the cold floor.

"Oh my, what have I walked in on?" The dreaded man said as he entered the kitchen.

"Oh Matty, be a doll and pass me down one of the vodkas," the intoxicated version of Y/N slurred.

"Absolutely not, get up!" He commanded reaching for Diana's hand, who gratefully took it and stumbled to a stool. Press then went to grab Y/N and haul her to her feet.

"Don't touch me, Matt Press!" She screamed.

"Come on Y/N, work with me, " he muttered, watching the girl submit and grab onto him. "There you go," he softly whispered as she reached her feet.

Matt turned to leave and Y/N went to sit next to Diana, "I wish he wasn't such a cunt," she stated, making Diana whip he head around.

"Y/N! Oh my god!" She screamed, and then they smelt it, the weed-infused aroma of a bong, "I think I know what time it is, do you know what time it is?"

"Bong time baby!" Y/N yelled, grabbing Diana's arm and stumbling towards the couch, "pass the bong sophomore!"

Y/N lit the end of it inhaling a big draw and passing it to Diana, Y/N reached over to Press and blew the cloud of smoke straight into his face, "oh you want to play that game huh?" He smirked, clutching her by the hips and pulling her onto the couch. "Hand it over Diana!"

Press took the bong and inhaled, grabbing Y/N's draw roughly and connecting their lips, the smoke travelled into her mouth. "Press! You animal!" Jordan shouted.

Y/N watched grinning as Samantha ran off into a bathroom, she stood up snatching the bong of the raven-haired boy, "Is there any weed that's not in here, I want a joint," she announced.

Abby sprinted off and came back with a small baggy filled with weed and a box of rolling paper, you took them out the girl's hands and kissed her forehead, "you're a gem."

The girl grinned and chucked herself onto the couch, on top of Brodie. Y/N stumbled towards the table to roll two joints, one for her, one for Diana.

"Come get one Di!" She shouted, the skidding and crashing indicated that the girl had arrived.

She picked one up and inspected it, "I love when you roll them!" Y/N tossed the lighter at her which she caught surprisingly well. Y/N placed hers between her lips and waited for her friend to light it.

The pair walked over to the people on the couch, the two girls mentally deciding to through themselves on Abby, the party had noticeably gone quiet, as the time had hit around half one. The only people who were left were the group of nine huddled around the couch.

"You know how much I love you, Abby, you're so cute and pretty," Y/N mumbled, cuddling into the girl she hadn't properly talked to since about five minutes ago.

"You two are definitely drunk!" Abby laughed, pushing both Y/N and Diana off of her onto the space next to her.

"We're not drunk we're just appreciating life!" Diana shouted, taking another long draw of her joint.

"While you guys appreciate life, me and Norah are away to have sex!" Jordan slipped into the conversation, causing everyone to groan.

"Shut up Jordan!" Norah reddened, pulling him away and up the stairs.

Everyone sat and talked for a while, despite never really hanging out with the group Diana and Y/N were fitting right in, laughing like they were old friends who hadn't seen each other for ten years. Diana had especially warmed up to Brodie who she was now all over in the corner of the basement.

"Perhaps we should take this to my room, what do you say Diana?" Brodie suggested to the ethereal-looking girl on his lap who was layering his neck with the red lipstick she had swiped on only an hour or so prior.

"I say that sounds great!" She beamed, grabbing the boy's hand and leading him up the stairs as silently as they could.

"I'm heading, I refuse to hear two couples going at it." Abby groaned kissing Y/N on the head before she leaves, waving a small goodbye at Ginny, who was cuddled into Hunter's side pretty much comatose.

"I better get Ginny home, sorry guys." Hunter pitifully smiled.

"No please don't leave me here with Matt!" Y/N pleaded making him burst out laughing.

"I'm not that bad babe!" He answered, giving her a side-eye. Hunter sent you yet another apologetic look, assisting a stumbling Ginny up the stairs.

"I need another drink," Y/N declared, standing up from her spot on the couch. She could sense him following her to the kitchen, which bothered her a ton but she was too interested in getting some more fiery liquid down her, instead of pouring something she just grabbed a bottle of vodka, slugged some down and trudged back to the couch.

"Stop hiding that you like me, it's honestly pathetic." A voice spoke behind her.

She whipped round, and finally he had well and truly pissed her off. "Oh my god, will you ever get out of your own way?"

"What's your deal, why are you being such a bitch to me lately, do I mean nothing to you," Matt shouted taking a step closer to the girl.

"Well fucking done Matt! You finally get it!" She yelled back at him. "You aren't as stupid as you give yourself credit for."

Matt laughed, "look at yourself Y/N, you're a mess, just admit it the only way you are happy with yourself is when you're drinking or smoking your dumb fucking joints!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" She questioned getting even closer, making him step back into the table.

"I stopped being close to you and now you cry by yourself in school and act like you don't give a flying fuck about anyone! Other than Diana? Tell me that isn't true." He demanded looking the girl up and down.

"You don't know the first thing about me Press." She spat, prodding his chest with her dainty finger. "I mean you can't even go by your first name and you call me pathetic, that's funny!"

He only grunted in response, shoving the drunken shell of a girl out of the way, this only annoyed her even more.

"Matt for the love of god, just let me hate you." She whispered.

He huffed, "I don't want you to hate me Y/N but we'll never have whatever it was we even had again."

"God Matt! Stop!" Her distraught voice begged, his complexion softened a bit before advancing towards her, "Matt, don't speak."

Y/N pondered her decision, looking at the tall body who is towering over her, in one swift movement she pulled the boy closer, her hands wrapping around the back of his neck.

Matt's warm breath fanned over her face, "are you going to kiss me or what?" He smirked.

"Shut it." Y/N reached up and placed her lips against his, him instantly wrapping an arm around her waist, his other falling firmly on the side of her neck, he started to walk her so his back hit the cold table.

"Jump," Matt grunted, breaking the kiss, his arms came down to the back of her thighs, lifting her onto the table. She wrapped his legs around his waist, letting him kiss down her neck.

#ginny & georgia #ginny & georgia imagine #matt press imagine #lou writes fanfic #matt press x reader #press x reader #ginny & georgia x reader #ginny and georgia x reader #Spotify

[jojo-schmo]

Now I'm curious: what did your first Kirbysona look like? It's hard to imagine you not being the bubble witch!

Once upon a time… I made my very first Kirbysona in 2010! I was in middle school hehe. I was still keeping to myself in the fandom (definitely a good thing since I was so young), so I could only think of Kirby’s species as an option for myself! I loved the Beam jester hat, and I had just played Crystal Shards for the first time so I used them to tip the ends of my hat! :P Then I just straight up gave myself the Star Rod to carry around simply because I liked it! Tying a ribbon around it means it’s mine now haha. I think I had light powers or something like that.

I couldn’t find any colored pictures of her from my childhood in my short search- so this is what I think I remember her colors as. (Colors have always been a little hard for me in art. When I visualize things in my head they look more like black and white storyboards so I rarely colored my art at the time.) if I do find an old colored drawing I’ll show it hehe.

It’s nice to look back at this. This was before I learned about how people online made fun of “Mary Sues” or “cringe oc’s. (A trend that I’m happy has quieted down in recent years.) Before a time I felt too afraid to share my ideas and art in fear they weren’t “special or original enough.” This was just a pure expression of how I imagined I’d live in the Kirby universe, and how much fun I might have with my favorite characters….

I stopped drawing this little puffball shortly after starting high school. But I still thought about her sometimes.

Fast forward to 2023. I wanted a sona to represent myself once I realized my art had a small following on here. But I wanted take the design beyond a puffball, and maybe create a sona that actually looked a bit more like me while still existing in the Kirby universe. It’s not super obvious but when I was designing my Bubble Witch form I thought it would be nice to carry over a few small elements from my original childhood Kirbysona. Just as a small homage to the child I used to be. And in a way, she’s still part of me.

I can’t physically hug the little girl who made that Kirbysona… But I can definitely keep doing my best to take care of myself and create work that she might’ve liked.

#I got a little sappy here haha #my bubble witch sona is just personally meaningful to me and this is one reason why #kirbysona #irl content #Kirby series #art #ask

[ray-jaykub]

Hi! I'm a new follower! @hagelpaimon recommended you for this specific request. If you're interested, I was wondering if you could write some Bayverse fluff for me.

F!Reader has a southern accent and even though it isn't thick, there are certain words she says that makes her sound like a country bumpkin. And her turtle S/O (lovingly, of course) teases her for it. You can make it for each turtle or just Donnie. And you can make it NSFW if you wanna. Whatever you think fits! Thank you and happy writing 🐢💙❤️💜🧡

Thought I would crawl out of my adult cave and answer an ask that spoke to me. And as a country bumpkin (hoot hoot, very, very south georgia), I can say this hits the mark. I'm gonna do a little of all the turtles and

--------------

Now, as someone who grew up around people who talked like me, I assumed I could hide it well. But that wasn't until I started sending audio messages back and forth with @moxfirefly did I realized how bad it was... Now I've never tried writing a southern accent, despite having one, so bear with me.

------------

Leo:

- He finds it so endearing and sweet and just can't find it in his heart to make fun of you

- Like, the way you call his name? The twang makes him smile because that means time with you

- His brothers and him obviously don't get out and talk to people, so I can imagine they're probably a lil stumped on why you sound the way you do

- Luckily, Leo is an old western movie fan, so at least he knows Cowboys.... please be patient with him

- If you're shy about the way you talk, he won't acknowledge it, but over time, he hopes you two get comfortable enough that you'll express yourself more

- Seriously, can't get over when you call him or his brother's names. Like omg they just said "Dawnie" and the way you pronounce Manhattan?

Raphael:

- Why you sound like that??

- Definitely believes you're from some weird part of New York, or God forbid Jersey

- Won't and will not understand unless you play country music for him and go like "these are my people"

- makes you a country mix, even if you don't like country. He's trying! You can't deny him that

-He says it's to make you feel "closer to home" and honestly, it lowkey works when you're feeling home sick

- He sees a cowboy film??? Prepare for him to throw a cowboy hat on your noggin

-Save a horse ride a cowboy, yeah? (I'm cringing)

Donnie:

- LOVES IT, ADORES IT

- He's really big on dialect and accents, especially for someone he fancies

- Will ask you to say certain words at random times of the day, early mornings when you haven't woken up, late at night when you're sleepy

- When you're angry???

- He has to hold out on bringing the recorder. But he's taking in every word

- Just imagine yelling at him, and he's looking at you with big doe eyes because wow... when was a country accent kinda sexy??

- He has to say one of his favorite things is when you both are whispering, and he leans down to hear you better, woof 😮‍💨

- He needs a southern girl 😤 GIVE HIM A TASTE OF THE SOUTH

Mikey:

- Will tease you, mock you, repeat every word you say... with love of course

- just expect to hear his lil giggle after you've said something particularly southern

- If you're the type to say our phrases (colder than a witches tit, you call undies breeches, you make crazy comparisons) he will adopt them and look stupid doing it

- Just imagine Mikey, surfer dude, New Yorker, saying, "I reckon"

- Like baby... please hush

- lowkey the one that helped Raph make the country mix tape, added a few personal favorites (the fucking wal-mart yodeling kid, for some reason)

- Gets you boots, even if you don't wear them, and tries really hard to convince you to dress like Barbie in her cowgirl outfit

- Never a dull moment with this doofus

........Go Dawgs

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #donatello #leonardo #tmnt #michelangelo #raphael #southern reader #country

[bunnyyamor]

[ OCTOBER 4TH ] TEMPERATURE PLAY - SHOTO TODOROKI x fem! reader (wizard x student! witch au)

synopsis; shoto is the best wizard in the school. he can make his hands form powers of heat and cool. you are new to the school and have always been a fan of wizard shoto. now’s your chance to learn from him. wk; 4k

warnings; mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, everyone is aged up, temperature play, student x teacher (college), fingering, wand fucking, nicknames (professor, student), dirty talk, brat taming, spanking, ass play, ice, candle wax, nipple play, thigh riding, clit play, scissoring, beta read!

note; again w another! i love the vibe of this one, i don't think it's my fav but pls lmk what u think. also if uu have a problem w this type of trope and what not then don't read idgaf, like block me idc. remember to like, reblog and comment.

-nav : kinktober m.list : kinktober taglist

“did ya hear?” your roommate bumped into your shoulder, playfully. 

you were in the middle of making your nutritious breakfast that consisted of oats and fruits. you read it helped with the brain and in the school of magic, you definitely needed that. 

when you had finished high school you knew you wanted to explore your witchcraft ways and become a witch. the best witch in the land. so now you were in the school of magic and acing every subject. you were at the top of your class. some might even suggest you were the goody two shoes, the know it all, but you didn’t mind. they would scoff and roll their eyes every time you answered in class but all that mattered to you was being the best out of the best. 

“what’s up?” you took a big bite of breakfast, sitting at the table. 

“have you been living under a rock? we’re getting a new professor this semester. i am so fucking excited!” your friend jumped up and down, dancing.

you tilted your head, “you mean, you don’t like professor williams telling us we suck ass on the daily and we’re never gonna follow our dreams? he’s such a sweetheart, why would you want another teacher?” your words dripped with sarcasm. 

your roommate rolled her eyes with a chuckle, “ha ha. but seriously, y/n, the professor i’ve heard is hot.” she wiggled her eyebrows. 

“like dilf hot or-”

“like he is only a few years older than us!”

“what?” you choked on your oats. “how in the hell-”

“best in his class. actually he’s one of the best period. i’ve heard that he made up a new magic trick. something to do with ice and flames, at the same time.”

“wait, are you talking about shoto todoroki, the shoto todoroki.”

“yeah, i think that’s the guy.”

you almost screamed, “no way! shoto is like my idol. he has proven that magic airway can travel within itself with different opposite techniques. he’s insanely good and one of the best wizards!”

“so you’re a fan?”

you twirled around in your kitchen, “can you just imagine? we are going to be taught by one of the greatest! we’re gonna get the best education and learn so much! that’s actually why i came to this school. i read about him and he inspired me to be a witch.”

your friend faked a yawn, “well damn don’t get all happy school girl with me. he’s probably like the rest of them.” she shrugged, “either way, we have his class first so you can go and fangirl over him all you want.”

your eyes bugged out, “for real?”

“why?” your friend smirked, “are you excited to see this sexy professor?”

you shook your head, “he probably has a girlfriend or a wife. let’s be respectful and good students.” you collected your spell books, retrieved your witch hat and wrapped your neck with your comfy, soft, orange knitted scarf. 

your friend grumbled, “i don’t want to be a goody-goody like you. some don’t really care.”

“we’re gonna be late,c’mon!” you hopped onto your broomstick. putting your earbuds in to listen to “all too well” by taylor swift. your broomstick slowly came out of your apartment to your campus.

 it was the start of the day and everyone was bustling to and fro, having places to be, classes to attend. 

you read your papers that were sent to you by crow and could make out that professor shoto todoroki’s classroom was in the main building of the classes. it was usually the nicer rooms with more decoration. his class was potions and elements of magic. your wand was tightly placed in your bookbag, safe and secured. 

you smiled wide, cheeks getting nipped by the cool autumn air. the smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon dancing in your nose from the many students getting coffee. and the smell of many apple orchards that littered around the campus made you so happy with your choice in school. you vowed to yourself to be the best witch ever. 

but as your broom swayed closer to his classroom your heart pounded as well. every minute the tapping against your rib cage would make you sweat and gulp loudly. what if he hated you? what if he was the worst teacher ever? what if you were to get an f? how were you then to be the greatest?

you sat your broom outside the classroom, leaning it against the wall. 

every new semester day made you anxious. it was bound to happen. but why were you also intrigued?

you fixed your mini black skirt with your fishnet stockings on, sticking your head inside the classroom. it was already filled with many students and that was when you saw him!

the greatest wizard to ever live, shoto todoroki. his hair was half white half red. the side with the red hair had a blue eye and the side with white hair had a brown eye. he also had a burn mark on his blue eye. he looked incredible and so handsome. 

“told you,” your friend whispered in your ear and slapped your ass playfully.

fuck, she was right. you almost moaned the first time you saw him. you never really looked at him that way when you saw photos of him but now seeing him in real life for the first time, something set off inside of you, making you cross your legs. he had an all black outfit. his coat was black and his suit was black. it fit him nice and tight but made him look like a true wizard. he carried with him a scepter with a crystal ball on the end of it. you already knew by that he was high in rank. 

he licked his fingers, turning something in a spell book and looked up. he was about to look back down but you caught his guard. 

again, you gulped loudly, biting your lip. 

his eyes bore into yours, almost studying you. 

“can i help you?” he asked, hands leaning against his belt. his hands looked rough from maybe the constant training and learning. magic was no easy thing. 

“oh no. i go to this class.” you lifted up your paper. 

“please,” he gave a small smile, disappearing the moment it showed up. you could tell he was more reserved and quiet. “have a seat here.” he pointed to the seat right in front of the class. nobody took it because they were afraid but you always took that seat. you wanted to show teachers you meant business. 

as you made your way other students booed and rolled their eyes. “we have her again?”

“she always tries too hard.”

“that’s why she has no friends.”

you looked down, embarrassed. you took out your books and notebooks as well as your wand. just staring at it so you would try not to cry.

then you heard a snapping noise. 

“there is no bullying in my class. if you have a problem with this student then leave because she certainly isn’t leaving. or maybe i should give you all an f? hmm?” professor todoroki snapped, leaning against his desk, eyebrows furrowed. 

your heart thumped even harder now. why did he stand up for you? surely it was just because he was a nice teacher and nothing more, right?

“what is your name?”

“y/n l/n. thank you professor-”

he put his hand out, “no need. just do your best.” he said, emotionless but then he winked at you. 

you couldn't harp on those feelings longer because after that he announced the start of your class. you were bashful and grinning like an idiot. maybe this semester wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

the classroom was medium sized. dark and a bit cold. it had big windows that showcased the whole campus. behind the students were gigantic light wooden shelves, with books stacked inside them. it looked glorious with emerald green and navy blue inside. candles were lit everywhere and inside smelled of autumn leaves. the perfect setting to learn. 

“so today i will introduce myself and get you to know a little bit about me,” shoto announced as he crossed between the students desks. “i am shoto todoroki and i am known as the best wizard. the reason is-”

“it’s because you can create flames of heat and ice at the tip of your fingertips. nobody else in the magic world can! that’s actually impossible.”

shoto tsked as he looked back at you. now he kind of understood the kids, you were a know it all. 

you smirked. for sure this would make you the class pet. 

“thank you y/n but i can speak for myself. anyways yes, but in this class i will teach you my tricks. this is my first ever class and i expect dedication, hard work, and respect. respect for magic,” shoto turned around and stared directly at you with dark eyes, “and especially respect for me.”

you played with your fingers as you tried to look anywhere else but him. 

“i will as well teach you some potions and spells to help with certain magic, alright?”

everyone was writing down their notes. it was almost done with the class.

“everyone i want you to write this important term down. mesthuleniza, it is a spell to stun your opponent. now repeat after me-”

you raised your hand.

shoto sighed, massaged his temple and bit his lip, “yes y/n.”

“it is said mes-thoo-le-ny-za not mes-thoo-le-ni-za. most students are saying it wrong. i just wanted to clarify.” you put your hand back down and grinned big. your legs were swinging back and forth all innocent.

students groaned in annoyance and shoto put his hand on his mouth to try to calm himself down. “yes y/n, again, thank you. now the history of the spell is-”

“soldiers would use it on their enemies to stun them for goods. it was used all the way back in ancient egypt times. some theorize it was made by the gods but all we know is it has worked for many decades for special purposes.”

just then the bell rang. 

“alright class dismissed! i want the papers on my desk by lunchtime tomorrow. and practice on animals with your spell. have a good day, students.” 

you felt good. you made the best impression you felt. as you were packing up all your items you noticed you were the last student, the only student left behind. 

“y/n?”

you turned around to see shoto writing on some papers at his desk. 

“yes, professor?”

“you are going to stay here for lunch.”

“but sir! they are putting pizza tonight! i love pizza,” you pouted. 

he looked up, unimpressed by your childish act. he crossed his leg as he sat back, hands behind his head. “i don’t care what you want y/n. what did i say to do in my class?”

you kicked around sheepishly, “to respect you.”

“exactly! did you do that? did you do that for your fellow classmates?”

you shook your head, “no. but sir-”

“no buts. for the way you behaved, i should have you punished.” his voice dropped low and his mouth twisted into a scowl. “so you’re staying here and helping me clean.”

you stomped your foot like a brat, “this isn’t fair! i’m the best student in this whole damn school. i am supposed to-”

shoto stormed up and with a finger in your face he growled, “watch it.”

you gulped and went silent. 

“now, you are going to do as i say and wipe the board and put the books away. understand?”

you exhaled, rolling your eyes, “whatever.”

professor shoto sat back down and read over some paperwork. 

you grumbled the whole time as you picked up the eraser and got to work, swishing your arm back and forth to clean the school work residue. you didn’t want to admit but he taught a well class. he was very informative and explained things clearly. you loved every second of it. 

“i enjoyed your class, professor,” you said quietly, almost under your breath. you heard shoto turn around in his chair and utter a mellow, “thank you.” but you didn’t hear him turn back. you felt his gaze on you. 

you looked up to see high above the chalkboard was more wording that needed to be erased. professor todoroki was taller than you so you stood on your tiptoes to reach the leftovers. 

if you knew you were going to clean the board today you would have worn a longer skirt but as you stood on your toes your tight black skirt rose, showing the underside of your ass. you were wearing a black thong with a spider bedazzled on the front of it, and over the thong was your fishnet stockings. you could feel the cool air go under and tickle your ass and pussy. with each swipe on the board it made your ass jiggle, almost making it clap. 

you still felt his gaze on you and could see him in your peripheral vision. 

was he?

your eyes went quick to him and you noticed him staring at your ass. he looked thirsty. as if you were the key to unquench his thirst. he looked at you as if you were the last sip of water on this earth. his eyes were wide but his gaze was dark as if malicious or lustful. he kept his hand on his mouth as if to stop him from having a taste, his adam's apple moving up and down slowly. shoto moved his head closer and lower, tilted at an angle to get a better view of your full ass. 

you looked down on him and noticed his full on boner. 

you were shocked? not your professor?

you weren’t an idiot. your professor was hot and honestly you felt something burst within you with him looking at you that way. you felt hot, and bad. you wanted him to punish you. you felt cherished in a way. something changed within you. 

but what would people say? what would happen, the chemistry from here on out if you acted upon it? would people notice and then they would really think that you are the class pet?

all of it was too much. 

you got back on the soles of your feet and planted them on the ground. you fixed your skirt and looked directly at shoto with a smile. “i’m done here, need any more help.”

shoto looked away, embarrassed with a cough, “yes, um, i have some books that you can put away in the bookshelf. right over there.”

you nodded and picked the books up to put them away.

as you put the books away you noticed a book written by him. it was about his technique of fire and ice. you were astounded by his words. he was incredible. 

“and without a wand,” you uttered to yourself. 

you sat the book against the shelf and took your wand out. the end of the wand was thick and had ridges on it. it was unique and decorated by you. you studied the passage of the book and tried to do the spell. you tried to get fire to come out but it was no use, it didn’t work.

“that’s not gonna work,” todoroki walked in on you. hands in his pockets as he gave a small grin seeing you try. 

“yeah, sorry, i’m not that good,” you chuckled sheepishly. 

“you know you don’t believe that,” shoto picked up the book to inspect it. “you just told me, you think you’re the best.”

“i just, i wish i was as good as you.”

shoto thought about that moment and walked back. he peered around the room then lifted his sleeves up. “here let me help you. i can teach you.” as he lifted both hands to you, you saw the veins on them. they were the most attractive hands ever. “now this is kinda dangerous so please be careful.” in that moment he produced ice on his right side and flames on his left.

“woah,” you looked with eyes big of wonder. “this is amazing!” your hands went over the ice and it felt so cool and over the fire. “ouch.” you flicked your finger back, sucking the burn. 

“allow me,” todoroki picked up your finger and kissed it. then he poked his tongue out a bit and licked the tip of it. it was warm at first then cool his saliva. all the while his eyes never left yours. 

“better?”

“b-better,” you nodded, bashful. your head was spinning. you felt you were in another world.

“look, stand like this.” shoto went behind you, spread your legs apart and placed both his hands on yours. “don’t think about anything else. forget what other professors have told you. feel the cool and the heat. think about them being friends, lovers rather than enemies.”

you closed your eyes to concentrate and that's when you felt warmth and cool on your hips then your arms. it shot a spark up your spine.

 “try it y/n, i know you can do it.” shoto whispered in your ear. 

feeling inspired a little flame and ice shard were produced in your hand. “oh my god!” you jumped up and down. it was gone the minute it showed up but it meant everything to you. “i did it! oh my god!”

shoto crossed his arms with a love grin on his face, “i’m proud of you, student. good job.” 

you couldn’t take the tension anymore and backed shoto against the bookshelf, planting your lips on his. 

at first it was hot and warm, you ran your fingers through his hair messily. he had his hands squished against your face. mouth fighting for dominance. 

he parted with heaving breaths, “no y/n, no, we shouldn’t do this. i’m your teacher. we could get in trouble. i shouldn’t be having this with my student.”

“please, professor,” you pouted. you brought his hand to your vagina. wanting him to feel you. “you see how wet you already made me.” you grinding on his hand, and went to his ear, moaning, “and i saw the way you stared at my ass. like you wanted to eat it, professor.”

todoroki scowled. his eyes turned dark and his mouth twisted into a frown. “there you go again. acting like a little brat. i knew you were trouble when i first saw you. acting like a good girl when you know you are the baddest one here. look at you, begging me to fuck you, wanting me to touch your wet pussy.” shoto pushed you against the bookshelf. lifting your mini skirt up high so it rested on your stomach. you showed him your bare ass, with your cute thong nestled in the middle of it. 

“oh professor!” you cried as he turned you around, inspecting your clothed pussy. 

“i love these,” he chuckled, delicately touching your fishnets. he then ripped them along with your panties. 

“professor i loved those,” you pounted again. 

“look at you, always pouting like a spoiled brat.” shoto’s hand became red with flame power and that's when he smacked your ass. you jumped up and moaned, shaking it for him. god he turned you on so much. again he smacked, harder this time. you whined, “i’m sorry professor shoto, i’ve been a bad girl.”

“yes you have been, you've been a bad witch. witches are supposed to help people but all you wanna do is fuck them.” todoroki put your wand in your mouth to stifle your moans and cries from his slaps. “you like that, my bad student?”

you nodded, grinding your bare ass on his clothed dick. he earlier ripped your pussy and ass area of your stockings. so he turned his hand ice cold and wiped his hands from your cunt to your ass hole, smearing your juiced back and forth. “i can smell you from here, you dirty girl. all wet from your professor.”

“mmmm, yes! that’s feels so good.”

“let me ask you,” shoto massaged in circles your tight asshole, “have you ever been fucked by a wizard?”

before you could answer, shoto gently laid you down on the floor and ripped your shirt, spilling your boobs out. 

you grunted loudly, still having your wand in your mouth. 

“fuck,” he whispered, fingers turning red for heat and circling your bud. it felt soothing, a warm feeling. then his hands turned ice cold in a split second. 

that’s what got you super wet. you were humping his leg that was placed in the middle of you. moving back and forth as his coat that covered his leg was now being covered by your cream. the friction of your pussy folds coating each button and fabric made you see stars. 

todoroki’s intense eyes looked into yours and his brows knitted together, “aww look at my little brat. is she now being a good girl?”

his fingers delicately came down your collar bone to your nipples, gently tickling them with his nails. his hands were cold as ice. he rolled the bud back and forth in between his fingers. then, as if they weren’t sensitive enough, he produced from his magic a piece of ice. he hovered it over your mouth and it dripped down your neck to your nipples. making them poke out even more and become swollen. it made you more wet and almost find that special feeling. 

“oh my god,” you moaned. 

“wow, look how sensitive. they respond so well to my magic.” he smirked, rubbing the piece of ice all over your tits. 

you started grinding faster as then finally todoroki put the ice cube in his mouth and dipped his head to take a nipple in. he twirled the nipple with his tongue while the ice tapped on it as well. 

the feeling was like something you have never experienced before. it was incredible. 

“oh professor!” you cried, your stain on his legs and coat were becoming bigger and wetter. 

todorki hummed as he feasted on your nipples. the feeling of ice cold making your pussy pulse. 

shoto retrieved a candle from the side of the book shelf and heated the tip of the candle with his powers. the hot wax dripped down your belly almost making its way to your cunt but dried up before it could reach it. 

you hollered in excitment and sexual tension you almost orgasmed right there. 

“i don’t know how much more i can do this, professor.” you were humping his leg now like a dog in heat. 

“listen to me brat. i said you respect me in my classroom. don’t make me have to punish you again, you bad girl.” 

shoto went lower and opened your legs, with his face near your soaking wet cunt. 

“wow, look how wet you are. you are so dirty.” he was only inches from it.

you wiggled your hips, “please, help me,” you cried. 

shoto kissed the inside of your thighs. “my little witch, such a spoiled girl.” he produced another piece of ice and it dripped over your sensitive clit. you couldn’t help but almost orgasm there, the feeling was incredible. the ice droplets dripped on your swollen clit and down your hole, mixing with your cream. 

“all wet for me,” he whispered as he put two fingers to dive in your soaked pussy. you gladly sucked his fingers inside, eyes crossed with how good you felt. 

“ohhhh, right there, right there.” you started moving on his fingers. 

shoto licked his lips as his fingers turned really warm. he started moving his fingers in and out, then scissoring inside you. the squelching and wetness of it was all that was heard. 

“fuck i’m gonna cum, professor.”

“no listen brat, i say when you cum.” he put his hand on your lower belly. he looked directly into your eyes. “try to keep your eyes open. i want to see my student’s eyes when she cums.”

you tried to listen. your body moving up and down with how shoto escalated his fingering. he went faster and faster. your pussy gushing with moisture. 

“look at how filthy you are. you are a naughty girl.” his temperature then changed to ice cold. his fingers were like ice as he fingered faster. he started curling his fingers inside you, hitting the g-spot perfectly. his arm was pistoning in and out of you. 

you were finally screaming with pure ecstasy. this was the best feeling you ever felt. 

“i’m almost there-”

“not quite yet,” shoto chuckled. he grabbed the wand from your mouth. it was dripping with your spit. “open wider for me.”

you did as you were told.

“good girl,” he winked as he turned the wand over and entered the thick side first, inside your already sensitive cunt. your pussy took it in and your cream leaked down to the tip of it. 

“fuck! oh shit, fuck!” you were crying. it felt so good. “yes, right there. fuck yes. fuck me with my wand!”

shoto got his right hand cold and played with your nipples while the other hand moved the wand in and out like a sex toy. entering inside of you then out. 

“you are taking this so well. i am going to have to put my wand inside you.”

“professor! i can’t! i’m gonna cum!” you screamed, not caring if other students heard you. you opened your legs wider by spreading them with your hands. you looked down to see how fast and slick you took the wand. 

“that’s it, witch! cum for me!” he announced as if he put a spell on you.

your legs were shaking and he kept repeatedly hitting your g-spot with the wand. “fuckkkkkk!” you croaked. your strength and energy gone with how deep the wand kept going. 

you lifted your legs high in the air and stood there for a minute while he orgasmed. shoto slowly dipped the wand in and out, loving the way your fold suction aed around each groove. 

your juices dripped onto the carpet and all over shoto’s hands. 

you looked down to see shoto’s trousers having a wet stain from his precum. you felt kinda bad not giving him the same attention. 

“professor i-”

he pulled the wand away and wrapped his lips around it, tasting each part of you and licking every last drop. “i expect you at my class everyday. i expect great grades from the greatest witch ever.” he stood up, wiped his hands on his soaked trousers. he took his coat off and wrapped it around you. “you can give this to me tomorrow.”

“professor, when-are we ever gonna do this again?” you bit your lip.

shoto gave a cute smile, “as my best student that gets perks, you will stay after class to help me. better get that delicious pussy ready tomorrow and meet me back here again, like a good girl, right?”

it was crazy but you got wet all over again. “yes, professor.”

taglist: @sailewhoremoon, @tonaken, @shoutocakie, @xinii, @neonlavander, @moonbabysstuff, @smellsliketequila, @auds-dal19, @khione-silver

#cry baby *🧸* #shoto smut #mha smut #bnha smut #shoto todoroki smut #todoroki shoto smut #shotou todoroki #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #boku no academia #bnha x you #shoto x you #todoroki x you #shoto todoroki x youu #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto torodoki #todoroki shouto #bnha #todoroki #shouto #mha #bnha x fem! reader #boku no hero smut #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #shouto x you #mha shouto

[shuunnico]

Introducing: Roll for Art

Sorry for the lack of updates on this! I had been preoccupied with other things for the last week.

Roll for Art is a new system I'm creating to produce randomized inspiration for artwork. Through a series of dice rolls, I'll be able to randomly mix and match concepts and limitations to create art and stretch my creative muscles!

The idea is to roll two dice, consult the table, and smush the ideas together.

At the moment, I am opening my inbox for people send in suggestions for concepts they'd like to see.

Criteria

The suggestions should follow these general rules:

A suggestion should be broad. Instead of "Mummy" consider "Egyptian" and "Undead". Instead of "Construction Worker", consider "Blue-Collar". Give me room to maneuver with the ideas!

Suggestions shouldn't be too specific. That means specific characters (Spider-Man, Darth Vader, etc), items (hammer, boots, belt) and attributes (cat's eyes, fangs, etc) shouldn't submitted.

Themes are okay! Broad genres work too. Cyberpunk? Retro-Futurism? Go ahead!

Avoid animals. I already have something planned for animal suggestions.

A good rule of thumb is consider how broad you can take your idea by mixing other ideas with it. Try pairing the idea with the following and see if you can picture drastically different results based on your idea: Witch, Pirate, Demon.

If you suggest "Chef" you can probably imagine how a demon chef, chef pirate or witch chef would all be drastically different. How are they dressed? What are they cooking? What are their cooking tools? Where are they stationed?

If you suggest "Top Hat", the variation doesn't come from the hat itself, but the witch/pirate/demon. It'll be a witch wearing a top hat, a pirate wearing a top hat, a demon wearing a top hat. Not much variety.

I'll honestly consider every suggestion sent to my inbox (or in reblogs/comments, but I prefer inbox) if it meets the above requirements! Multiple suggestions are allowed.

I really wanted to put this out to the public so I could get some really neat ideas and to involve everyone in the process!

Thank you so much! I look forward to reading your ideas and using them in my artwork!

#art inspiration

[arkus-rhapsode]

Manga Recommendation: Soara and the House of Monsters

So with the popularity of fantasy series that are actually pretty hard fantasy and not just isekai fantasy in manga and anime recently. Particularly, series like Dungeon Meshi, Frieren, and Witch Hat Atelier, I wanted to personally spotlight a lesser known series in that same high fantasy genre that gave me a similar vibe. Soara and the House of Monsters

So the premise: Soara is an orphan who was raised to do battle in a war between man and monsters, but never got the opportunity to before peace was declared. Without a purpose in life, she meets a dwarf, Kirik, who builds homes for monsters. Displaying the gorgeous/imaginative art of the series.

Each "arc," if you want to call it that, often involves Soara and Kirik's party coming across a stereotypical fantasy race and their often run down or depressing lair where they can live. Kirik resolving to then build that creature their dream home. This is because monster have been motivated to steal from humans because what they desire is a home. Comfortable accommodations instead of the squalor they're trapped in. Through building these homes, Kirik makes a place where they can be happy and avoid trying to take from humans.

Now if that sounds a little like discussing how people are inclined to do bad things when society may not allow them to have a comfortable place in life, that's because it is. Despite its comedic tone, a key component of the series is Soara herself coming the grips with the prejudice that was instilled into her as someone raised to fight against monsters. But also her own hang ups of not having a home to call her own.

While I won't say it pushes the envelop of fantasy manga like the artistic tour de force of Witch Hat Atelier or the melancholic beauty of Frieren, it's still a creative fantasy series with likable characters with some great art. Following a compelling protagonist as she both has her comedic moments, badass moments, and moments of decoupling the prejudices that were instilled into her. Soara and the House of Monsters is a great little series.

First volume has already been translated officially, so you can pick it up from any book store or site.

#soara and the house of monsters #soara #kirik #manga #manga recommendation #Soara to Mamono no Ie #soara and the monster's house #fantasy #dungeon meshi #sousou no frieren #frieren: beyond journey's end

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - December 2022. Is it still December? Yes, for about 5 more hours, oops! Here is the final monthly rec list for the year. I hope everyone is doing something nice to bring in the new year (snuggling into bed absolutely counts!). 

Many times, Many ways by Jmeelee (1/1 | 3K | Mature)

He turned around and stormed toward his Jeep. Derek called out his name, but Stiles flipped him off over his shoulder. He jabbed the key into the ignition, roared the engine, and smoked the tires as he peeled out of the parking lot, but not before he cranked down the glass and screamed at Derek from the driver’s side window, “Merry Christmas, motherfucker!”

OR

Five times Stiles and Derek ruined Christmas, and one time they fixed it.

Build A Wolf by PalenDrome (nerdherderette) (1/1 | 5K | Teen)

Derek is a romantic. He dreams of finding his mate, of connecting with that special someone who will make his heart swoon.

[Excerpt]: "Who says I need to be in a relationship to be happy?" Derek asks, his hackles rising. Besides, Boyd has it all wrong. Derek has Die Hard on his Christmas queue.

Yippee ki yay.

Boyd holds up both hands. "Not me. If you want to be a bachelor forever, I'm not one to judge."

"But I am," Erica says. "You don't date anymore. Hell, when's the last time you even got laid? Which would also be fine, except it's not, because you're miserable and it's obvious that's not what you really want."

Sometimes Derek has a hard time following Erica's logic. Unfortunately, this is not one of those moments.

"It doesn't matter," he says, digging the excess rice out from his wrap. "I'm better off alone."

Mint Condition by fairytalesandfolklore (1/1 | 955 | Teen)

He checks the clock, frowning in concern. Stiles had said he was going to change and that he'd be right back, but that was over twenty minutes ago. He's about to get up and go check on him, when the all-too-familiar tune of his least favorite song in the entire world starts playing on the stereo, and out comes Stiles wearing nothing but a jauntily perched Santa hat and a pair of the tiniest shorts Derek has ever seen — bright red satin to match his hat — and when Stiles twirls around to give Derek the full effect, he can make out the words naughty elf emblazoned across his asscheeks. Derek can do little more than stare open-mouthed as Stiles saunters toward him, sucking on the end of a candy cane in what he probably imagines is a seductive way, shaking his ass in time to the music — which, ugh. (As far as Derek is concerned, if hell had a soundtrack, it'd be an endless loop of Santa Baby…but it's Stiles, so he'll make an exception.) Overall, the effect is actually quite charming, and Derek would be lying if he said it wasn't doing something for him. And then Stiles starts talking.

lube and determination by bleep0bleep (2/2 | 4K | Explicit)

It's a holiday classic: homesick boy wants to make a pumpkin pie while studying abroad, boy realizes the only place to find vegetable shortening is a sex shop, and boy makes fool of himself in front of other boy.

Little talks by Vendelin (1/1 | 5K | Mature)

“Your favourite is here,” Danny says, smirking. “I tried to steal him away by giving him some extra attention, but he just looked uncomfortable.”

Stiles snorts, though he’s secretly pleased by his regular rejecting Danny. “He always looks a bit uncomfortable. I bet he’s married with a kid and a permanent guilty conscience when he’s here.”

It had been quite the surprise for Stiles to realise that he had a regular. A pretty young, hot regular, on top of that.

In which Stiles is a stripper, and Derek is the always-polite regular at the club where he works.

Depth of Field by midnitekween (1/1 | 7K | Explicit)

Stiles loves taking pictures of his pack.

Kiss It Better, Kiss It Back Together by crossroadswrite (1/1 | 3K | General)

For the tumblr prompt: stiles is cursed by a witch to forget the person he loves the most so everyone thinks it's Lydia but it's not and the only way to get the memories back is through a kiss

i see forever in your eyes by hufflepuffbaby (1/1 | 1K | Teen)

Stiles looked at his big bad Alpha, with his blush and his thumbhole sweater, and Stiles found he didn’t care if it was a bad idea, he was going to relationship the fuck out of Derek for as long as he was allowed.

Flufftober Day 5 : "Oh, no, you're a morning person"

Make You See It by sparkandwolf (thatnerdemryn), thatnerdemryn (1/2 | 2K | Mature)

Stiles didn’t say anything and Derek was grateful for leaving him speechless.

“Your mind, the way it pieces together every last puzzle piece, the way it connects dots that the rest of us didn’t even know were there, it’s--” Derek let out a breath against Stiles’ ear and reveled in the chill it sent through Stiles. “You are the most powerful of all of us.”

no matter how far away you roam by elisela (1/1 | 2K | General)

Stiles regrets not getting a tree.

He hadn’t been feeling very festive—decorations were reminders that he was spending the holidays alone, so he’d decided not to put them up, but now it’s Christmas Eve and there’s not even a strand of lights around the room to cheer him up. Watching Die Hard hadn’t worked, neither had The Grinch, and Derek hadn’t answered his phone the last three times Stiles had called him today.

It’s 7:34pm on Christmas Eve, and Stiles is ready to give it up and call it a night.

princecharmingwinks special mention (Oh my gosh I love the smut in this and the humour and everything else.)

Come Fly With Me (Or Don't) by stilinskisparkles (1/1 | 15K | Mature)

Stiles is overworked and stressed out when his flight home gets delayed due to copious amounts of snow. He finds entertainment with one Derek Hale, whom he hasn't seen since high school but really doesn't mind getting reacquainted with.

Especially when it turns out Derek is surprisingly hilarious and will reluctantly play snap with him. And can walk on his hands.

Made it through another year team, well done one and all. Happy holidays and see you in the new year ;)

#sterek #fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

[beneathashadytree]

Hiiiiii! I wanted to request an angsty fic, where reader is like Scarlet Witch in WandaVision who makes this alternate universe where Whitebeard is alive and like Ace is Vision and they both have kids. While all that's happening in the Hex, the Red Hair Pirates, remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates, and the Straw Hats try to stop her since she's taking over the New World. (The Marines are trying to kill her) I'll leave the angsty details to you since I suck at thinking🤣 THANK YOUUU, HAVE A GREAT DAY!

PICTURE PERFECT - PORTGAS D. ACE X READER

Warnings : Marineford spoilers, mentions of death, blood, gore, and the like, grief and delusions, this can be generally unsettling, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : angst (plus creepiness)

Word count : 1.0K words

Additional notes : Hi nonnie! So sorry for taking a ridiculously long time to get to this, but as you might know by now, I’ve been on hiatus after certain traumatic events in my life. I had to change up quite a few things in this because I haven’t watched anything from the Marvel Universe, so I know absolutely nothing about how this would work🫠 Also, I’ve had requests for ficlets (4K+ word-long pieces) turned off for over a year now, so I couldn’t get into too much detail anyways. And of course, as stated in my rules, unless the gender affects the plot, I write my readers as gender-neutral to be as inclusive as possible. However, I hope this could be somewhat satisfactory to you, with the general vibes I could manage🥹💗

Requests : Are closed for the time being.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. This wasn’t how they’d planned out their future together.

They’d always expected a life on the run; they’d never imagined anything different. But still, the love between them was too intense to deny, and too unconditional to ever think for a moment that it would ever disappear. If they had no faith in anyone but themselves, they could, at the very least, believe in their love.

Wherever they would’ve gone, they’d still be just as smitten as they were the first day they met. No matter how their future played out, they were so sure that their love would have them dying in each other’s arms at a peaceful old age, their last breaths weaving in bed together. Wherever one went, the other would follow. That was how it was supposed to go.

It wasn’t supposed to end with them carrying Ace’s limp, ice-cold body in their arms. It wasn’t supposed to be the acrid smell of burnt flesh that suffocated them. It wasn’t supposed to be his blood that drenched their clothes and stained them unsalvageable.

They weren’t supposed to be gasping for air as their entire body shook violently, pure horror painting their features. Nor were they supposed to feel bile rising at the back of their throat and tears stinging their eyes at the terrible realization that his chest wasn’t moving, not one inch. As a matter of fact, nothing much remained of his mangled chest at all—if they could even recognize it as his chest anymore.

Their trembling only intensified, failing to register just how empty and mutilated he seemed in their lap. Vision swimming, they couldn’t help but let the ugly sobs rack their body, their tears falling freely down their cheeks. They hiccupped on their sobs, the sounds mingling with the moans of a deep, deep pain that threatened to swallow them whole.

Ace had left them. He’d left them behind. He’d left them behind in a world they no longer wanted nor cared for. He’d left them to look forward to nothing, to feel so empty and numb but somehow consumed by a sadness so immense it nearly ripped them apart.

Perhaps it was that moment, that moment when their entire world crumbled around them, that drove something to crumble inside of them. Something broke, and that odd, unfamiliar something awakened the deepest pit of their sorrow within them. Pandora’s box opened, and it shattered their very reality as they knew it. With Ace’s dead body in their arms, and their wailing piercing the stormy vortex of sudden bleak night, they were soon swallowed into it without even being the slightest bit aware.

The grief was blinding, and they’d lost all control. Where it took them, they didn’t care nor pay it any notice.

***

Having lost track of time, they hadn’t any idea how long it had been. In all cases, it didn’t matter. No, it truly didn’t matter what had happened on that day; after all, why would it? They still had Ace.

Yes, they still had Ace. And he was sitting right behind them on a small, tattered-but-well-loved couch. Strong arms cradled them close to his chest—a perfectly intact, moving chest, not even the slightest bit scarred. Would the universe demand a price from them, for the heinous crime they’d committed just to have this? Maybe. But this universe, at the very least, was one that handed everything to them on a silver platter.

“What’s on your mind?” he mumbled, lazily planting soft, open-mouthed kisses up their neck to their ear, and his teeth lightly tugging at their earlobe.

They hummed in delight, snuggling deeper into his embrace. “Nothing much. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

Ace laughed a little. “You just called us “three snotty-nosed brats” an hour ago.”

“And? You know I’m right,” they teased him, before asking, “Speaking of, did the kids give you a hard time falling asleep?”

Yes; kids. Kids that kissed them goodnight, kids that clung to them whenever they went out, and kids that would get mud on their carpets but shoot them the sweetest smiles that got them out of trouble every single time. Kids that cried when they scraped their knees, and kids that ran into Pops’ arms whenever he demanded his favorite grandchildren visit him.

Kids that made the small house feel like a warm home, and kids that fit perfectly into that delusion of happiness they’d built, with a father and grandfather that were perfectly healthy and fine. Deceptively so.

Perhaps this sort of deception wasn’t as sinful as it sometimes whispered it was in their ear. Their Devil Fruit had never proved itself useful, and their lack of desire to use it had been the reason why they’d found themself stunned by the existence of this universe of their own creation. The grief that had nearly killed them of heartbreak had been the very same thing to offer some salvation to them, by granting them a second chance in a world where things were perfect, in an almost eerie way.

“—babe? Babe? Hey—“

“Yes, yes,” they sighed, momentarily snapping out of it. “Sorry, got lost in my thoughts for a second.”

“You’ve been doing that pretty often lately.” Ace’s handsome face contorted into a worried frown. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

They didn’t respond to that. Almost as though on autopilot, their feet carried them to the kids’ room. With stiff movements, they bent over to brush their hair back from their foreheads, hands subtly passing underneath their noses to check that they were breathing. Good. They were very much alive, and very much real. They were real. Not just figments of their imagination.

Ace still seemed confused as they turned to walk back to him. Peering into his beautiful dark eyes, they held their breath for a moment. Yes, yes. Good. His eyes were alive; they weren’t unblinking, nor were they unseeing.

And as they reached up with trembling hands, they could trace the freckles on his cheeks and feel him leaning into their touch. The warmth of his skin was a stark contrast to the icy coldness that remained as a phantom touch in their memories.

They could live like this, forever and ever. No losses, no sorrows staining their flawless lives.

Plastering a smile on their face, they nodded. “Of course. Everything is picture perfect.”

Taglist: @stories-that-shaped-me @finch-ya @wifeofkyojuro @livwritesfics

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