#this was a lesson on pronouns thank you very much

[coralinnii]

Can I ask for Vil, Took or Malleus (any of them, or multiple depending on how cool you are with it) when they find their s/O gives them cute handmade gifts? Baked treats, books, paintings and such. I completely understand if you can't get to this, but if you decide to take this up, It'll be really really cool! Thanks and have a great day!

‎‧₊˚✧Made with Love✧˚₊‧

↳ Reader S/O who made him handmade gifts

feat: Vil ❋ Rook ❋ Malleus genre: fluff note: no pronouns used with the reader, established relationships, nicknames were used for readers (spudling, mon tresor, dear, child of man), probably bad grammar and usage of French because of Rook,

To anyone who were wondering for my sudden MIA status…I got sick, like hella sick. I’m not the greatest at taking care of myself and apparently my body decided to teach me a lesson for that by leaving me down for the count for 2 weeks then giving me migraines if I spend even 20 minutes in front of a screen for another week. To be fair, I could have recovered quicker if I actually…rested and took care of myself but hey, lessons were learned.

I literally started this a month ago but now I need to relearn the characters because my brain can’t remember anything, so I’m sorry if it isn’t the greatest T_T

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

To say he was suspicious was an understatement. Vil was a man of routine and he could tell when something was amiss as the days went by. Little differences were of no cause of concern, but when his little spudling is just acting too skittish, the blond just couldn’t let it go.

At first, Vil was content with scolding you for the little bad habits you started. He caught you too many times hunching your neck and back, and the eyebags forming under your eyes were too concerning to him to ignore.

He had to physically hold in his gasp however, when you refused to come over to his dorm for a skincare date. He tried to be understanding when you claimed you had too much homework to come over, but he could do without Rook having to point out that he was sulking.

Yes Rook, Vil is very aware he could get early wrinkles.

Frustration turned to concern as Vil was quick to pick up that you were hiding something from him. Occasionally, he could see you quickly hiding something from his sight before smiling.

Insecurity soon struck him as alarming thoughts swirled about his mind. Was he the problem? Or is there a problem but he was too undependable to you to confide in?

Not one to beat around the bush, he approached you.

You were surprised that your lover requested to see you so suddenly. But, you thought the handsome blond sounded uncharacteristically solemn so you agreed, which led to you sitting in the lounge of your dorm/home.

Maybe you misread the tone of his voice, because the man before you certainly didn’t seem solemn. Sitting next to you on the sofa, Vil watched you silently with his arms crossed and a leg over another.

“So, Vil…how was your da-”

“I know you’re hiding something from me, spudling.”

From your flinching and awkward avoidance to meet his eyes, Vil’s suspicions were correct. Upon closer inspection, Vil spotted small cuts littered about the skin of your fingers. His lilac eyes softened somewhat, but he kept his voice stern.

“I admire you for working so hard for yourself,” Vil made it clear to you as his eyes gazed towards the small cuts on your fingers, “But, I hope I’m not someone so incompetent that you can’t rely on me, especially when you’re needlessly hurting yourself so.”

In a smooth motion, Vil raised his manicured hand towards your face, gently grazing your cheek to keep your attention to him. “So spudling, no more secrets…what has gotten you so busy and reckless?”

The gig is up, you supposed. Sighing, you asked for your blond beloved to wait as you quickly rushed to your room. Upon your return, there was something in your hands to which you nervously handed over to your upperclassman.

It was a soft ribbon with a charm attached to its end. The deep purple ribbon was embroidered with what seemed to be golden leaves attached to vines twisting and curling across the length of the ribbon. The charm was of a crown, a cheap trinket that was clearly inspired by the Fairest Queen.

“I know how hard you’ve been working for classes so I made you a ribbon bookmark, something you could use while you study or something.” you explained, a little embarrassed. “But I haven’t been getting the pattern right, so I couldn’t give you until I got it perfect.”

Vil has been gifting you so much, from customized skincare products of his creation to matching outfits that enhanced your beautiful form. But it’s not just fancy clothes and luxurious products. Vil worries for you, takes care of you, and helps you to see the potential in yourself and to strive for it.

He gave you so much, so you wanted to give him something in return. Something thoughtful, something that shows how much you cherish Vil. More than for his looks, more than for his fame.

“This didn’t turn out as well as I wanted, but I’m working hard so I can make a new one and get the embroidery just right,” you assured him as you reached for the bookmark. “So, please be patient with me.”

But, Vil kept your gift out of your reach. He examined your handiwork with such focus, taking note of the effort in every stitch. It was by no means the level of professional, but he could see how you thought about him. From the color of the ribbon and thread to resemble his honorable dorm, to the consideration of his dedication to his studies rather than his looks. Your gift told him that you saw not Vil Schoenheit the actor, but Vil your hardworking boyfriend.

Seeing your nervous expression, Vil chuckled as he finally spoke, the cute bookmark firmly in his grasp. “If this is for me, I believe It’s for me to decide if it’s acceptable.”

“I-I guess?”

“Good, because I’ve decided to keep this.” Closing the gap, Vil placed a kiss upon your face, teasingly close to your lips. With a confident smile, Vil took pleasure with your burning cheeks.

“Thank you for the gift, my cute spudling.”

If it wasn’t already clear to everyone, Rook’s primary love language are words of affirmation. You could sneeze and suddenly he has written a sonnet about how beautiful the cringling of your face was.

I’m only slightly exaggerating.

Rook is by no means afraid to show his admiration for anyone, least of all his beloved. All of his words and actions are all done without an expectation of getting something in return.

But lately, you have become a bit of an enigma to him. You would spend hours upon hours with him, smiling and capturing pictures of the two of you. Other times, you would swiftly leave back to your dorm, excusing it as needing to study but you would vehemently decline his offer to help you.

Don’t get him wrong, watching your concentrated gaze is gorgeous, the way your heartbeat steadies and letting out soft but longer exhales as though you’re making decisions secretly in your mind. Rook couldn’t help but wonder, what is it that captures your attention that has you gazing off away from him?

“Rook, can I visit you today?”

Oh my, it has been a while since you last requested such a thing. Partially because you both knew his Housewarden would have a fit if he wasn’t aware. But eventually, Vil gave you special permission, mostly because Rook would have found a way to either sneak you into his room or he might sneak in the middle of night to see you. Vil knew Rook would never have gotten caught but he’d rather let you stay than have the migraine of a vice-housewarden breaking curfew and ruining his beauty sleep.

“Oui, mon trésor. I would request approval from my Housewarden immediately.” Rook could never deny you of anything, especially if he means you could have more time to admire you in the comfort of his room.

When night fell and the two of you were alone, sitting on the hunter’s bed. You were nervously wringing the handles of the bag in your hand. Doubts filled your head as you wondered if the gift was even slightly capable of living up to your boyfriend’s expectations, regardless of how silly that sounded.

You knew that whatever you would give him, Rook would love and appreciate it with full sincerity. But, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous. The gift should be considerate, you thought. Something that shows the love you had for the eccentric blond and his odd… let’s say interests.

You looked to said odd man, who’s piercing green eyes caught your gaze. Rook noticed your nervousness and the mysterious bag but said nothing. Instead, he kindly waited for you as you calmed yourself, soothing you with gentle touches to your knee. The huntsman can be a lot to some, but he’s also patient and so supportive.

Finding your strength, you presented your gift to Rook. Curiously, Rook took what seemed to be a journal from your hands. It was only when he opened the book to see its content was he surprised.

Him. He saw him in a multitude of photographs that decorated the pages of the journal, lined with cute frames and drawings. Some photos were of moments he remembered, such as days where you visited him during his club, cute dates around the town, or simply just moments of serenity between the two of you.

Rook felt his cheeks flush as his eyes caught the little captions written near the photographs, dates and words written in your handwriting.

“My handsome mad scientist” “His dashing profile is so cool” “His warm arms around me ♡”

“I realized the last time I came to your room that you only had photos of other people” you had glimpses of the wall of photos that consist of people he admired the most, you included. “So, I wanted to give you a photo album of what I find beautiful…you.”

Your boyfriend scared you as the young blond suddenly stood up from the bed, eyes sparkling with excitement as he scanned through the pages filled with memories. “Mon tresor, this is absolutely exquisite! To think my beloved has been watching me with such an unwavering, loving gaze fuels a pleasurable delight within me. Oh, très bien!”

But Rook worriedly commented on something notable. “But, there are still pages left unfilled. Were our moments too few and rare to fill the album?”

“It wasn’t that.” you rubbed your hands as you felt the nerves return. “I was hoping that we could fill the last few pages together…like a couple.”

It was then the hunter kneeled before you, his hands reaching out to grasp yours as he looked into your eyes with a special loving gaze only shown to you. You couldn’t tell if you were captured in his devoted gaze or if it was Rook that felt compelled to hold you, to comply with each and every one of your wishes.

“You speak as though I would dare to deny my precious beloved. I’d be honoured to make more memories with you, now and far however long you will have me.”

With constant surveillance from his wards *coughSebekcough*, Malleus’ moments with you were rare but still meaningful. Some nights, Malleus would wander near your dorm, especially when he noticed the lights of your room, signifying you’re there and awake. And like always, you would open your doors for him with a sweet laugh and inviting smile.

But lately, Malleus has seen that your bedroom lights would be dimmed, and that you would take notice of his presence slower than usual. Once or twice would be of no concern to him. But, as it slowly became a habit, he began to worry.

He spoke of his concerns with Lilia, perhaps in the older fae’s experience he came across a similar predicament amongst humans.

Only for the veteran fae to be of no help, instead chuckling in amusement before giving his young dragon a cryptic comment “You will understand soon enough. My, how you are in for a treat~”

Malleus chose not to question further, nor did he question the odd coincidence that you asked him to visit you that very night.

“I don’t suppose there is a hidden agenda to your invitation, dear?” As Malleus made himself comfortable in your guest room, he noticed some changes since his last visit.

Firstly, the furniture were arranged to be more spaced out, although the TV was still quite close. Then, there were almost an absurdly large amount of pillows and blankets, to the point that some have started to pooled onto the floor.

“Hmm, you sound as though I’m being suspicious” you laughed good-naturedly, “But I do have a surprise for tonight.”

Coming from the kitchen, you pulled out a stacked fairly large, cold container. With Malleus’ keen senses, he could pick up a very subtle sweet scent mixed with a chilly sensation, and a familiar delight came to mind.

“Ice-cream?”

You nodded. “Made by yours truly. I asked Lilia if there was a particular flavour you like, but he said you weren’t really picky.”

Unceremoniously, you sat down next to the tall fae before handing him an ice-cream container. “I was trying out different recipes and ideas all week, tweaking it along the way.”

The results of your work appear to be a multitude of flavours with varying degrees of sweetness. From classics such as chocolate and vanilla to more subtle sweet flavours such as coffee and pistachio. Some were swirls of combinations with fruits or nuts, and some were flavours unique to his hometown, which he imagined were hard to procure.

“I may not be able to shower you in riches, or protect you like your knights…” you gave an embarrassed smile and gaze at your silent companion. “But I could at least make you something sweet, just so you could smile even a little.”

Behind your nonchalant smile, you do feel anxiety swirling as you worry your efforts pale in comparison to the luxuries your powerful boyfriend owns. Malleus is a fae of the highest standing and thus, his actions have more impact than the average man or fae.

But…he was your amazing boyfriend nonetheless, who smiled softly back at you.

“Thank you, child of man. Knowing the effort my beloved has done for me alone, I shall cherish this feeling for centuries to come.”

Your cheeks burned slightly over the sincerity, so you quickly diverted the conversation. “W-Well, just giving someone ice-cream would be too boring, so I thought we could spend the night watching bad rom-com movies while we eat. Call it a human custom of sorts.”

“Is it imperative that the movies must be bad?”

You shrugged “Not really, but it usually is.”

Setting the movie up, you returned to the makeshift nest of comfy blankets and pillows with Malleus sitting by you. The confused fae watched as you handed him a tub of handmade ice-cream and a spoon before picking a container for yourself, a strange feeling of intimacy unfamiliar to him…but not an unpleasant one.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #vil x reader #rook hunt #twst rook x reader #rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere König Headcanons

Warnings: Some 18+ Moments (Nothing Explicit), Social Anxiety, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Bullying, Acts of Revenge, Gaslighting, Kidnapping, Underwear Stealing, Possessive Behaviour, Yandere Behavious, Toxic Behaviour, Intimidation, Social Sabotage, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You', etc.

Wordcount: 14,544 words

A/N: Hey Guys, Happy Valentine's Day <3 ! Thanks for stopping by to read my fic ! Much love and wellness to you all :-). I've had to split the bulk of the text and the ending into two posts because Tumblr will not let me keep them in the same post - it just won't save or post. A link will be provided below the main body of text to take you to the ending post <3

You and König became friends the very same day you met.

You were a new student to the school that König called Hell; not yet alive – conscious – to the incessant bullying and ignorance that occurred there.

Upon seeing you for the first time, feet pointed in, shoulders rigid, lunch pail squeezed – compressed – tightly between your tiny fingers, König felt… strange.

He’d never met you before, but he already felt that there was something to be done in the way of you.

As to what that ‘something’ was was completely lost on König.

But alas, he tore his resting head from his palm, his senses sharpening as he was drawn from the fantasy world he’d crafted for himself, becoming aware of his surroundings,

He watched you, for the first time, a child no older than himself, nigh-quivering under the curious gazes of students.

As if by instinct, König’s gaze drifted to the table that housed his tormentors.

And, sure as ever, their eyes held nothing less than malice. Intent.

Something in him told him to sit up straighter, to get his hands off the desk – anything to appear bigger than how he did now.

He recognised this feeling. Though, he’d never felt it towards a person.

In König, it only ever manifested whenever he happened upon some small, injured creature.

Despite being just children, König was already a little taller than everyone else in the class; foreshadowing of the monster he’d become, whose horns just peeked through his skull, made him an inch or three taller than the rest.

And yet, he was still the butt of every joke, the object of needless ridicule.

Little did he know that would all change the very same day he met you.

Something in him prompted him, told him, to talk to you, to find out as much about you as he possibly could.

An impulse he had never known until today.

Though, as to how he’d initiate conversation was tricky.

He could barely talk to his own parents, let alone a complete stranger.

As you peeked up from the floor every now and then, scanning the room and all its pieces, its players, your gaze fell upon König.

His heart fitted, adopting an irregular rhythm – a genre of music he’d never heard before.

Usually, he’d tear his gaze away, look down or out the window.

But he couldn’t.

With you, it was impossible.

The seat beside him was empty, a sliver of mercy his favourite teacher had imparted on him.

The possibility that you would be seated next to him – that you might choose to sit beside him of your own volition – filled König with a dangerous sense of hope.

He found himself clenching his fists when you made a move to go to him, taking but a small step in his direction. The right direction.

Before the teacher pointed to another seat halfway across the classroom.

König deflated, his shoulders sagging, his mood dampening as if sodden with tears.

He looked upon your reluctantly retreating form, your friendship withering away with each step you were forced to take.

König looked upon his teacher that day with something he hadn’t felt for them before.

Contempt.

The lesson dragged, yet playtime loomed.

It was less of a break for König than it was an opportunity for his bullies to find him. Capture him.

Yet today, he was the one seeking them.

He’d seen the way they’d looked at you, leered at you, repeated your name in mock mimicry when the teacher called on you for attendance.

König’s heart thrummed in his chest, an off-key harp.

He swallowed thickly, trying to hear over his internal symphony’s failing orchestra.

He almost considered calling off the search and searching for a teacher to help when he heard it.

You.

A sniffle. Then, insults.

Hissed and seethed and quiet, just below the radar of the adults ‘watching over’ the students.

König turned, only to find a long corner before him.

He pressed himself close to it, and listened.

Another sniffle, verging on a cry. Then, more insults.

The Cycle.

König’s fists clenched, his heart flared with the anger he’d felt many a time when he’d been on the receiving end of such torment.

Yet somehow, now that it was you receiving it, it was as if the cap König had set atop his anger, to prevent himself from doing something drastic, or displaying too much emotion, had blown off.

The anxiety that occupied König’s every waking moment boiled with his growing fury, a chemical gas that threatened all life that came into contact with it.

Without thinking, blinded by something greater than his limitations, he embarked the corner.

There you were, surrounded by four boys, each as diabolical as the last.

Devils in cherubs’ clothing.

König’s shadow descended upon the scene, covering your cowering frame.

The leader turned around.

He gave a sly grin, and turned partially from you.

He didn’t even have the courtesy to face König completely.

“Oi, oi,” he said, voice shrill and piercing. König stood his ground.

“And what’d’you want, König,”

König said nothing still, though the expression on his face was twisted, a far cry from the doe-eyed boy he was just two minutes ago.

The leader, when König didn’t answer, abandoned you, leaving you to his lackeys.

He approached König with a walk too old for his body, a cheap imitation of intimidation.

He only came up to König’s chin.

“I said–” he poked König’s chest, punctuating each word with a demeaning splinter.

And yet, König wasn’t paying attention to him.

He was looking at you.

You, having your hair pulled and your shirt practically torn.

König’s eyes narrowed.

“What. Do. You. W–”

Everything happened so fast that König scarcely thought it happened at all.

One minute, the bully was barely chest-to-chest with him. The next, he was on the floor, wailing, clutching his nose in his hands.

König almost couldn’t look away as a thin trickle of blood seeped between the boy’s fingers, staining his hands, and the concrete, a dark red.

König’s body shook, much like that displayed in starvation. He caught a glimpse of red along his knuckles.

And then, looking up from the bully, to his dumbfounded lackeys, he found you.

The lackeys were slowly backing away from you and making their way around König, as if he were a tiger, to their leader.

“Leave (Y/N) alone.” he said to the group, his shoulders heaving with his fresh victory.

The odd few nodded, mouths agape as they watched the leader struggle to get up onto his feet.

König walked past them and, taking cautious, slow steps towards you, stopped just shy of three feet away from you.

You were still shaking, your eyes wide as you craned your neck to look up at König’s face.

König felt giddy. A bubbling feeling welling up inside his chest.

Though, something caught in his throat. Something uncharacteristic of this situation.

“Hey–” König said, coughing, clearing his throat, when his voice cracked.

His face began to heat up, and he tried again.

“Hey,” he said, quietly.

You, awe-struck, with your mouth hung open, said nothing.

“I’m (Y/N)–...wait, no…I’m– König–”

König’s stilted introduction, and the fumble he made of it, was cut short with a soft, almost invisible feeling.

You’d thrown your arms around his middle and buried your face in his chest.

He looked down at the top of your head, only your hair visible.

The warmth on his face multiplied, growing hotter by the second as the gratitude in your muffled words – your ‘thank you’s – spilled from between the fabric of his jacket.

And, that feeling from before, the one that told him to act, returned; prompted him to do that which he thought best.

He put his arms around your shoulders and held you.

Only a moment later did you look up at him, eyes reddened with tears.

“I’m (Y/N),” you said.

König smiled, his teeth crooked.

“Hello, (Y/N).”

Immediately after the incident, a swarm of students gathered where the bully lay, ultimately unable to peel himself from the floor, his lackeys too frightened to turn their back on König for even a second.

The incident was passed around the playground like folklore, and König, and yourself, never had any trouble from those bullies again.

They’d all but discredited their leader, claiming that he’d “Tripped and fallen on a  rock,” and hadn’t finally gotten what was coming to him.

They could hardly say otherwise when König was staring them down with the look of hatred they’d all so mastered.

The group was disgraced, some of the boys eventually refusing to come to school altogether, transferring.

And all the while, you and König became inseparable.

That was the day you learnt what true friendship was.

Your parents came to know König very quickly, as his family came to know you.

You both walked home together every day, memorising the paths to each other’s houses “In case aliens invade and I need to find you!” as König justified his vested interest.

The first time he visited your house was like visiting another country.

You were much different at home than you were at school.

For one, you were more vibrant, more prone to voicing your opinions rather than keeping quiet.

And König found this quality to spark something in him.

The fact that he had gotten to know this side of you while no-one else had felt like an accomplishment.

Whenever you had anything to say, he was listening.

Regardless of how menial it was, how borderline unexplainable or just plain complex, König tried to make sense of it every time.

The two of you would spend every waking moment together, never apart for a second save for sleeping and the singular day of the week when your family would take you away somewhere; and even then, König was often invited to go along.

You had sleepovers as often as you could manage, exchanging stories like currency in a continent where only you and König lived.

König’s favourite to recite was Edgar Allan Poe’s The Tell Tale Heart, which, the first time he relayed it to you, had you peeking out from beneath your bed sheets, shivering.

That night, as König tried to sleep, he heard you whisper his name in the dark.

He spared no hesitation as he answered.

“König,” you said. “Will you…” your tiny voice barely permeated the suffocating dark.

“Will you sleep next to me ?”

König froze, then, as understanding gripped him, he thawed.

He clambered out from his sleeping bag and onto your bed, unsure of where to look or what to do once he got there.

He rested his arms above the sheets and stared up into the abyssal ceiling, hearing your breathing next to him.

You shifted closer, wrapping an arm around his front.

König became a corpse.

He stiffened, his breathing stopped, and he dared not move a muscle for fear of doing something wrong.

“Thank you,” you said. König could feel your smile against the fabric of his shirt.

"Goodnight, König,” you whispered, your face buried into him as it had been the day he confronted your bullies.

Swallowing thickly, and, sliding an arm around you, König shot a reply into the darkness.

“Goognight, (Y/N).”

After that night, König began to feel…different where you were concerned.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it would hit him whenever his mind drifted back to you, which he found himself doing much more often than he already did.

Considering you were his only friend, you already occupied a good portion.

König always shelved the feeling, promising to try and make sense of it later.

Later, later.

He tested his tolerance for physical contact again one day when you were both walking home.

He’d calculated what he was going to say, to do, and, taking a deep breath, he grasped your hand in his.

His palm was sweaty, the anticipation of this action weighing on him all day.

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at you – to see your reaction.

His heart spasmed.

With nothing to say, to rebuke, you just smiled and squeezed König’s hand.

He felt a weight fall from his shoulders, the sky clearing, his face heating with that feeling of butterflies rather than crushing doom.

You would walk hand-in-hand everywhere you went after that.

Eventually, when all the stories you each had to offer were spent, you found another way of amusing yourselves – of remaining connected regardless of how far away the other was.

The Bestie Bible.

A scrapbook, patchwork, Frankenstein’s novel of shared memories, diary entries; testaments of the people you were.

The book would be passed between you each week; a ‘safer’ alternative to sending letters where your parents were concerned.

An encyclopaedia of your lives right at your fingertips.

You got to know things about König that not even his own family knew, details that he was too shy to tell you, causing him to write them to you instead.

Like his hopes to become a ‘protector’ when he got older.

Little did you know, he wanted to do it for you – to protect you.

That part, he kept to himself.

And vice versa, König got to learn of your life, too; everything from your second favourite colour, bands you were into at the time, your favourite foods, shows - anything.

And he’d feverishly consume your every entry, committing them to memory.

Bible verses.

Whenever he was with you, he felt as if his whole world got brighter, that he could see a clear future with you and him in it.

And that feeling would always come with you. That damned feeling.

It only strengthened the older he became, heating his cheeks and knotting his words in his mouth.

And he’d shelve it, every time.

Because his time with you was precious.

That much was innate; he just knew.

He didn’t have time to understand, only to enjoy.

You celebrated birthdays together.

Every year, without fail, König would buy you a present that remained as timeless as your friendship.

And you’d always thank him the same way; a bone-crushing hug, a squealing “Thank you!”, and a lifetime of gratitude.

That, and one birthday, you kissed his cheek, sending him bright red, making both your families point and coo and stare.

A social nightmare for König, one which you rescued him from by finding a table to hide beneath and sit with him.

You apologised. He told you that you’d done nothing wrong.

You didn’t kiss him again after that.

Which, little did you know, evoked something from within König that was stronger, more potent, poignant, than the feeling he’d felt before. Its predecessors.

At what point König stopped seeing you as just friends was clear to him, yet the shift in his behaviour was subtle enough to be a snake hidden in the grass, a knife slipped between the mattresses – the ribs.

Or, perhaps he had always been that way. Completely and unequivocally in love with you and simply unaware of it.

Or, as close to love as one as young as him could interpret his feelings to be.

But that didn’t mean he understood what he was feeling.

It was light yet strong, a great army pounding on the walls of an even greater empire. A takeover.

He’d lay in bed most nights, hands clasped over his racing heart, as he thought of you, your smile, your everything, and he’d hope beyond hope, pray beyond heaven, that this feeling would last forever.

At first, he’d condemned it, and while he continued to shelve it, he couldn’t deny the butterflies you made him feel.

The warm jitters you’d give him whenever you’d hold him.

One day, sat in the tunnel of your favourite slide, in the local park you and König had claimed as “ours”, you sat together, waiting for your mothers to pick you up. König sat close beside you, almost fused to your side.

His hands shook in his lap, his gaze drifting to yours in a similar position, just lacking the jitters.

He wished he could be calm like you, to not be plagued with the mental anguish that he was born with.

He’d rehearsed this many times the night before, speaking with himself in the mirror – the only person aside from you he felt comfortable talking with – and prepared himself.

He took a deep breath, and before he could think about what he was doing, took your hand in his.

König waited a second, then two, before looking to you and gauging your reaction.

You didn’t even flinch, instead looking back at him with a small smile.

You squeezed his hand as you had done many times before.

So why did this time feel so different?

“What’s wrong, König ?” you said, tilting your head.

Wrong wasn’t even a word when König was with you.

König stifled the urge to withdraw, to retreat to his bedroom and hide beneath the covers of his bed until the day melted away and began anew, wiping your memory of this ever having happened.

But, again, König ignored the impulse.

He breathed deeply, hoping you wouldn’t notice as he tried in vain to placate his racing heart.

“Do you–” he swallowed, looking away, into the skyline of the fading sun, a sun set, then returning to you.

“D’youwannakiss?”

It came out so fast that even König had a hard time understanding what he was saying.

Your eyebrows crumpled, and you looked down in thought.

König’s heart stopped.

Had he said something wrong ? Had he offended you?

He thought his body would just seize up and release his soul to the heavens right then and there.

You turned to face him, your previous expression dissolving.

“König, we’re twelve. We don’t know how.”

It took König a second to understand what was happening until, yes, of course, the answer came to him.

Come to think of it, he’d only just realised.

His, and your, only knowledge of what ‘kissing’ was was something that people did when they loved each other.

He knew he loved you, though he knew the love he felt for you was different from the love he felt for his parents, or other family members.

He was rather sparse on the friend front, so he had little to compare you with there.

He bit the inside of his cheek, and, thinking, found a solution.

He said nothing as he placed his forehead to yours.

You seemed confused for a minute, before you understood and applied equal force, your forehead resting against König’s.

And you stayed that way. Just you and König sat in a kaleidoscope of childhood with your heads pressed together; two halves of an arch way, one side meaningless without the other.

Act 2

Your childhoods came and went, a flambaic fanfare of hopes, dreams, and cartoons. And your teen years gave way to feelings you’d never felt before.

And throughout it all, König was at your side.

Even now as he shot up in height, you lagging behind in that same department compared to him, he would gladly bend the knee to take your hand in his.

As was the case on your first day of high school, where you and König hurried down winding, identical corridors that you could only ever have hoped to be liminal; too many people existed here for them to be so.

Eventually, you found your classroom, miraculously having an identical timetable – at least for now.

And as you sat beside each other, your knee bouncing, watching the students filter in, König squeezed your hand in his, casting you a small, quivering, nervous smile.

Your shared anxieties would continue on from this day forth, solidifying as, just as you had been in elementary, you and König seldom spoke to anyone outside your duo, having created an impenetrable wall through which nobody could enter and neither of you could leave.

Your habits from elementary continued on, too; you both completed homework together, you had sleepovers, you continued the Bestie Bible.

But something was…amiss.

This feeling, this loss of something, grew as you did, and by your early teen years, you realised what it was.

It was around every corner, at every block of lockers, leaned against them, gazing into the eyes of the most wanted.

Love.

Sure, you knew what love was, hypothetically. You could identify it on paper, sense it between two people you’d never even met. But you never felt it.

Not the kind that you observed, anyway.

Perhaps it was your young curiosity.

Perhaps it was simply a longing for something new.

But you wanted to feel what everyone else seemed to feel.

What on-screen heroes and heroines so easily attained.

And thus began your pursuit of that which would be your downfall.

Your gaze would begin to linger more on boys in your classes who you could see yourself liking.

Prospectors, you called them to König.

Your first mistake had been ever trying to like someone in the first place.

At your sleepovers, your homework and study sessions, your park wanders, you’d spill your heart to König.

Just not in the way he wanted you to.

You’d tell him of guys you thought you may, perhaps, just a little bit, be interested in.

The first time you told König, he almost laughed.

He cast you a doubtful look, only to unfurrow his brows, unhook the smiling corners of his lips when he found you to be dead serious.

That night, König went to bed with what you could characterise as indigestion of the heart.

What you’d said didn’t sit right with him. Stirred a storm in his chest.

And he hadn’t even interpreted your words correctly.

He thought you just wanted to be friends with other people.

More people.

The idea made him anxious, made his nerves light with doubt.

And he calmed himself, looking upon your Bestie Bible, reminding himself that your friendship was God, stronger than all the forces that kept the earth together.

Or so he believed.

One evening, weeks later, during one of your routine visits, König sensed a shift in you.

You were quieter, almost as if you had clouds drifting around your crown.

Over time, as your desire to experience more, do more, grew stronger, your gaze began to wander to your classmates.

One in particular.

Just some boy, really nothing objectively noteworthy about him at all, save for perhaps his kindness, his wit, and another benign personality trait you could romanticise.

Initially, you thought little of him.

But as the weeks crawled by, and you had extra time in your classes to simply retreat elsewhere, into another world, he would be there, smiling, waving.

And you would speak with him, imagine what his opinions would be, what his voice would sound like up-close.

Fleeting instances of a desire for friendship.

That’s what you thought they were.

What else could they be ?

Meanwhile, you and König still shared as much time together as you could, even when school was becoming troublesome. Difficult.

You’d study together, have sleepovers, write in your Bestie Bible and exchange it like a letter, a story almost as old as you were.

Whenever you’d fall asleep, König would watch you, unabashed and unfettered.

An identical habit to that he’d created during childhood, with a similar goal in mind; to protect you.

Though, that was not his only motivation now.

König would watch you, watch over you, and look for as long as he liked upon your sleeping features.

And, as he advanced into his later teen years, he couldn’t deny that he found you to be very attractive.

Anyone with eyes and common sense would !

He always found his heart stuttering, his breath catching, his body heating at every docile gesture you made.

Not that you knew this, of course.

He’d studied, learnt enough from watching failed couples and friendships in school to see where mistakes were made – where friendships ended due to another’s impatience. Lack of restraint.

He made sure to avoid them at all costs.

And so he fed from you as you slept, unawares, your vulnerable state further motivation for him to protect you.

From what ?

He didn’t quite know yet.

But he held an answer, and it hung in his mind, a constant.

Everything.

During your study sessions, König began to notice that your attention seemed to be elsewhere.

Let me rephrase that; he’d noticed weeks ago that you seemed taken with something, but König couldn’t tell what.

He’d studied your Bible many times over, trying to find something indicative of your newfound interest.

And yet, nothing struck him.

Nothing new, at least.

And now, sitting here with you, König grilled you. Politely, with enough characteristic fragility in his tone that made him sound endearing enough to be spared any wrath you’d think to impart on him.

“Nothing’s wrong, Köni,” you assured him, smiling.

Your words were clear, but your eyes held a dream in them, a haze which settled over them like clouds before the moon.

König’s eyebrow raised, and, with a playful lilt, pressed further.

“That’s not true,” he said. He put his pen down and rested his hands upon the table.

“Something’s occupying your mind – I can see it.” He took a shallow breath, trying to keep his mouth stretching into a smile for as long as he could.

The fact that he didn’t know what was causing you to be this way killed him.

He recognised it in you, much as he recognised it in himself.

Love.

Or the infantile beginnings of it.

And yet he knew not from what it was borne.

You shrugged him off again, smiling, returning to your work.

“Really, König, it’s nothing !” You made mindless markings on your paper. “Now come on, drop it. We have a history test tomorrow.”

That night, König couldn’t convince you to stay over.

You both knew the evening would drag on ‘til the early hours of the morn, and neither of you wanted to fail this test.

As König embraced you, his giant form eclipsing yours, he saw the back of your bag unzipped.

He knew exactly how many seconds he had until you’d pull away.

Without a sound, he slipped his hand inside and withdrew the paper you’d been scribbling on earlier.

For once, he withdrew first, though it pained him to do so.

That night, he looked upon the paper.

There was little he could decipher from the obsolete doodles and scribbles, but something did stand out to him.

A name.

Nothing more.

The name of a boy.

It was given neither ceremony, nor decoration, simply slapped onto the paper as if it belonged there.

Looking at it made bile churn in his stomach, so he folded it, tucked it away somewhere he didn’t have to think about it.

The next day, it was his turn to receive the Bible, his makeshift friend, to give a near-identical account of experiences as you.

Given how you were both attached at the hip, there was little fluctuation in your day-to-day encounters.

In all honesty, he’d hoped that whatever had been plaguing you last night would emerge in the pages of that book, somewhere between the Frankenstein’s monster pages of glitter and brightly-coloured card paper and receipts from shops that exposed a most ambitious fashion sense.

And, like an answer from God, it did.

Laying in bed, leafing through the shared history book you and König shared, he sought your latest entries.

His heart burned as he discovered them, and, enthusiasm unmatched, he consumed every word.

He’d initially suspected that perhaps you’d taken up a new hobby, was maybe, in even a miniscule capacity, planning a gift for him, what with all your secrecy and all.

But König could read you like the book in his hands, and though he wanted to believe anything that crossed his mind, he knew any answer he came up with wouldn’t be the right one.

He truly had no way of knowing what was making you tick.

And then, he saw it.

A needle in a haystack; a whimpering puppy in a darkened alleyway.

A name.

A confession.

König’s body seized, his heart palpitating, his mind beginning to burn.

His throat tightened, and his stomach clamped shut, causing an immediate sickness to shoot through every nerve in his body.

The corners of his vision darkened, as if a cloud – or the cape of a villain – had settled over him.

And for a second, König thought that this was death.

There, in your handwriting, your letters, your words, was the cause of your distractment.

‘I like someone,’ you said, and König heard your voice in his ears, his head, as if you were speaking these words to him now, tearing his heart out now. ‘A boy from our class – the one who sits at the front, with the vintage biker jacket.’

König’s mind acted of its own accord, searching every frame of memory from the beginning of your school career to now to find the perpetrator.

All the while, König’s throat stung, the antiseptic truth bleaching, purging, the hope that had grown there over the years, a feeling which had persevered above all others.

The tightness in his chest gave way to a smouldering, burning, second death, the peeling of his heart in two, acid poured into the separate halves to be drunk by you, disintegrating the cumulative joy he’d felt there. Once.

The pages of the book tore in König’s hands, his grip on the edges enough to give the impression of a seizure, or some primal, uncontrolled bodily spasm.

The searing behind his eyes gave way to tears, an onslaught that choked him, choked him as the fiery clump in his throat burst into a sob.

König threw the book aside, feeling minimal relief from having done so, instead simply discarding the cross from his Hell-skin.

It hit something, unknown damage being done.

It would not compare to the damage done to König.

His hands clawed at his chest, pounding against the skin as if to search for the stolen heart beneath.

No words could, or would, leave König, no language of anguish or despair elaborate, violent, or loud enough to express what he felt.

On his knees now, König keeled over himself, compacting his large frame to a ball, as if to disappear entirely.

His mouth hung open, moulded to The Scream’s tune of horror, saliva stringing from within and onto the sheets.

He sobbed, convulsed, the same, nerve-frying stress that turned one’s hair white crushing him.

He knew now.

He knew what that feeling was, all those years ago, as another, younger version of himself lay in the same bed he wept on now, the agony his older self was benign subject to unseen by him, merely a pin-prick in the fabric of the universe, a bout of sadness, brief and fleeting, the desire to mourn, if only for a second, yet not knowing what for.

That feeling he’d felt…

It was love.

In all her most glorious, radiant terms, what he’d felt since the beginnings of your friendship, to the tumour it had developed into now, malignant and all-consuming, was love.

König wanted to part from it. To tear its parasitic tendrils from his mind and erase it so thoroughly from the universe that none should ever know it again, not its name, nor its face. Neither its feeling.

König’s face, pressed into the sheets to stifle his cries, to block out external stimulus, was scrunched in a portrait of terror, mid-scream, mid-death.

Eternities passed. The infernal suffering encapsulating König in its current made him break out into sweats, soaked his shirt and his body.

Through the dense thicket of heartbreak, König saw a thinning of trees, a glimmer peeking between distant gaps.

He searched for it, sought it, followed it blindly – anywhere but to be here.

An idea was brewing. A dangerous one.

König fled to the treeline, tangling in the vegetation and clawing his way free, sacrificing whatever material sentimentality he had to propel himself to freedom.

Body shaking, trembling, König threw himself into the light.

He shot up from the sheets, still clutching his spectral heart in his hands, breathing heavily, panting.

The idea settled, nestled in the forefront of his mind, incubated and basking in his attention.

König’s eyes darted from one dark corner of his room to the other, only the lamp by his bedside enough to fend off the monsters.

That, and the demon which sat upon his shoulders, bringing with it a weight which did not crush König, but grounded him, anchored and committed him to the plan festering in his mind.

If I can’t have you, he said to his two selves, the spirit of his innocence watching helpless and fraying from the sidelines.

Then nobody can.

Every time you returned with your findings, of guys you thought were nice, of those whose personalities you analysed and decided would be optimum for your first relationship, König felt his blood start to simmer.

Anything to get you away from those Prospectors.

You were slipping away from him.

He knew it.

Especially when you started liking that guy.

König never bothered to learn his name – not properly. Even after he’d seen it square on your research paper like it was printed there intentionally.

And besides, it seemed to please you greatly whenever he’d get his name wrong, making you laugh.

Every night whenever you and König lay parallel, one on the floor and one on the bed depending on whose house you were staying at – since when did you stop sharing a bed…? – all you could seem to talk about was this feeling your whatever-he-was gave you.

And König listened, albeit unwillingly.

Though, even as he lay, fists clenched beneath the bed covers, his ears would prick as you relinquished something new, something palpable, taintable, to him.

Like how he drove a car, how he was an athlete, how he was tall – “Not nearly as tall as you, though, Köni~” – and how he’d be taking you to the school dance.

König felt his heart seize.

Oh no.

That wasn’t right.

Everything faded into white noise after that, König’s head burning with a thousand ways to separate you and your “crush”; how to remove him from your portrait and replace him with König.

But, having been willfully confined to the incredibly small circle that was only you and König, your social skills left… a lot to be desired. Made it easier for König to keep a closer eye on you without you flitting off to your other ‘friends’.

And whereas König never even thought about trying to alleviate his affliction, the “curing” of yours was all you ever thought about.

Each night, as you lay in bed, you dreamt of another you who was unafraid of public speaking, of private speaking. Of interacting in even the most broad or minimal of capacities.

Of talking to him.

And whenever you’d wake from those dreams, your chest puffed with the remnant confidence your alternate self gave you a sample of, it would deflate, crumble into ash the second you set foot over the threshold of the classroom.

People casting you a passing glance, the close proximity to others in a packed classroom…

It shot you straight back to square one.

And each time, you’d sit beside König, shoulders slumped, hands clasped in your lap, eyes devoid of any semblance of hope.

König wasn’t an idiot; he knew what that look was.

He’d encountered it many times in his youth before he’d grown comfortable with the uncomfortable; laid to rest his desire to remove the enemy and instead just live with it – anything for an easy life.

But with you…it was different.

He could tell.

And as he watched your mind become filled with calculus and angles and the dates of histories that barely sounded factual, something, a wicked little thought, crossed his mind.

You were going to be difficult to break.

The idea cracked in his mind’s eye, a flash of lightning against the clouds.

It shocked him, made his heart stammer.

He wondered where it had come from, and he glanced over his shoulder, as if to find the person who had put it there.

When the blazing cold panic fizzled out, calmed and quelled, he gave a glance to the thought, which hovered just out of reach; a legendary sword – antagonist – with not enough room in the inventory to keep.

And so König cast it into the Memory Pit, to die and to fade, while he returned to the lesson.

But it never left him.

It clung to the sharpened cliff edge, giving way to a bottomless pit.

The wright remained the day after. And the day after that, and the day after that.

Weeks passed, and König continued as normal.

Normal to you, at least.

He had another set of eyes now, up above him, behind him, wherever he needed them.

His intuition sharpened, a cat in all but disposition, as he discerned the most miniscule of gestures in the most benign of people.

All excluding you, of course.

Knowing what he did now, König could see what you were thinking and when, especially whenever your attention turned to the boy at the front of the class with the decrepit cyclist’s jacket.

One time, you’d actually gone up and spoken to him, coincidentally on the one day König was off school ill.

Beginning a dark descent into something you couldn’t even fathom as of yet.

A ‘secret’ friendship that, when you’d tell König of it, excited and overjoyed at your progress, his face soured, his mood darkening.

And yet his demeanour remained unchanged.

König had pretended not to have seen your entry, pretended not to have actually had the book at all, but to suggest that someone may have stolen it, or that it had been thrown out when his parents were cleaning his room.

You found it difficult to believe, but what other alternative was there?

Trust your best friend or the possibility of pure, freak chance?

You chose the latter.

König neve let you out of his sight for a second.

Whereas he could trust you before, to handle yourself, to be loyal to his friendship, he could no longer.

Even when you were separated by timetable differences, he still had eyes on you.

A well-timed bathroom break, the revelation that he’d left his textbook in his locker – anything to slip out of his classroom and glide past yours, his eyes on you all the while.

Even if you’d caught him, you’d have assumed he was simply being humorous, as all friends were, or, again, pure chance.

He’d work harder than all other students, earn the teachers’ praise and trust, all to worm his way out the classroom a few minutes early to ensure he could pick you up from your class whenever you were separated.

In the corridors together, König would watch your line of sight carefully.

He’d see who you were looking at, who was looking at you.

Luckily, he never had to do much to deter others from interacting with you.

His rapidly growing height did that for him.

By his mid-teens, König towered above everyone else, giving an unsuspecting you scary dog privileges, and giving everyone else a heart attack when they caught sight of the well-dressed Austrian constantly at your side.

Given his stature, König could cast rotten looks to those who seemed even marginally interested in you, completely unbeknownst to you.

And besides, you wouldn’t believe anyone who told you as much.

König, the shy, quiet, socially anxious boy shooting daggers at another student ? Preposterous !

With this crush of yours, König already had enough to deal with. He wasn’t about to relinquish you to the throws of another person’s friendship as you seemed to already have done with your heart.

The one person König could never seem to do away with was your crush.

He truly was fearless. Or arrogant. Or braindead.

Not that you knew, but König would catch his eye in the hallways, see him stare at you for a moment before the reaper beside you caught his eye.

He looked away, and König hoped that was the end of it.

It was not.

The boy would look at you again.

A feat not yet coined by any.

Except for him.

König knew he was losing you.

Or, losing what part of you was meant to be his.

And so he brought you to where you’d frequent as children, where you scarcely came to now ever since life had become so much more complicated.

The playground was desolate and empty, void of distractions save for the equipment – rides – which seemed too small for you now.

That didn’t stop you from trying to squeeze down the straw-thin slide, though, or into the seats of the roundabout.

König only watched, knowing he wouldn’t even have a chance of fitting like you would.

His palms were sweating, the script he’d rehearsed laying in some crevice in his room, ink smudged with anxiety and sweat.

König clambered up onto a climbing frame, the one which you had occupied when you ‘kissed’ for the first time.

The memory warmed König’s cheeks. But he couldn’t lose focus now.

He called you over, his voice deeper than it had been then, all those years ago.

And you came, bounding over to him, a labrador or a kitten.

You clambered the frame and came to sit with him.

He offered you his hand. Wordless. Intentionless.

(Or so he would seem).

And, wordless, equally intentionless, you faltered, just for a moment, then took it.

He pulled you into the tunnel, the tube wide enough to support König’s staggering height.

Comfort wasn’t the goal here; not for him, at least.

You fit perfectly, a perfect, perfect, perfect specimen as ever in König’s eyes.

That word reverberated in König’s soul, the only sublime measure capable of describing you in your purest form.

Now, hand-in, hand, you and König sat in silence.

Geese called somewhere in the distance, flying through the sunset gates in the sky to a land unknown, collecting passengers on their non-stop express to salvation.

The wind blew the trees as night began its slow descent, ink hands reaching down from the top of the canvas to transform this half of the world into its playground.

Much like the one you and König inhabited.

König looked down at your conjoined hands.

He ran his thumb across the back of yours, your knuckles.

He saw – felt – you wince, flinch. The beginnings of doubt, of retreat.

He knew he had to be quick.

The crippling anxiety that had shadowed from childhood sat with you in that tube now, your Venus, your evil twin.

It was you, who spat at him, at his attempts, and fed him tales of rejection and deceit, of your loyalty to that boy instead of him.

And yet here you sat, eyes wide as ever, curious and ambient, an ocean of possibilities.

The demon on König’s shoulders growled, its claws taking König’s heart in its clutches, knives to your feather-touch, and squeezed it.

König gave a cavernous, inward sigh and returned to you.

It’s now or never.

“(Y/N),” he said, timid, lamb.

He tried looking into your eyes. Peering into them as if they were the future.

You leaned in, swearing you could hear his voice twice.

One which spoke the truth, one which spoke a darker truth.

You listened for your friend’s tone.

“Yes, Köni ?”

God, that nickname.

As old as König himself.

Stay focused.

König swallowed. His throat prickled.

An oncoming sickness. A nestled affliction.

Lovesick.

“Do you remember…when we were kids – and we…”

He faltered. His gaze dropped.

Keep going !

He cleared his throat again.

Your hand lay limp in his.

”And we…we did that…thing?”

Your head tilted and your gaze flew to the sky in remembrance.

Your nose scrunched.

“König…that doesn’t particularly narrow it down,” you laughed, returning from the Heavens to him once again

König swallowed, thickly. He gave a wavering chuckle that barely reached his chest.

“Yeah…yeah, you’re right.”

With his free hand, he rubbed the back of his neck, only to mortify himself when he found sweat collating there. Colony.

He slapped it back down on his thigh, desperately, discreetly, trying to wipe the sweat off.

He returned. Head above water, bobbing.

“I– what I’m trying to say…is…”

He shuffled closer. You mirrored him, ear-first, trying to catch his words, butterflies in a net.

“What I want to say is…”

He looked at you, dead in the eyes.

He was partially hunched, giving his tilted face a menacing, sharp look.

It almost took you aback.

His free hand, puppeteered by his demon, snaked past your body, fingers crocheting through your strands. Fusing you to him.

Your breath hitched, your guard defiled, as he placed his hand firmly there, the cold tips harsh against the warmth of your scalp.

“König–” you said, as if trying to identify the person in front of you.

König – or what he was now – didn’t listen.

He pulled your head closer, braced your hand in his.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, your nerves beginning to spark with…something.

You didn’t know what it was, but you knew you’d never felt it with König before.

You couldn’t place it, tried as you may.

It was only when König’s forehead kissed yours, his skin scorching, his eyes puppy-like and pure, that you found the answer.

It was the same feeling you felt for the boy with the vintage biker jacket.

You felt frozen, breath stilted, thinned with revelation.

And, with your forehead to König’s, a mirror image of the past, you were flooded with an ocean and all its creatures.

Confusion, apprehension, affection, and…disgust.

You’d never viewed König like that, not once.

And even now, it made you uncomfortable to feel this way.

And so, with the vigour of one escaping a trap, your eyes squeezed shut and tore yourself away, past König’s grip, his hold, and landing a foot or two away.

The umbilical cord, his hand in yours, was cut.

Your body felt cold, a phantom gust of wind prickling the skin, your heart.

König looked at you with wide eyes, pleading eyes, and a hole in his chest.

You looked upon each other, trying to find an answer, trying to see what the other would do.

Swallowing, breathing uneven, you crawled out from the tunnel, not looking back at König as he all but whimpered in your absence, eyes stinging, throat singing. A familiar condition settled upon him.

A paroxysm of his loving sickness, seeping deeper into his veins when you’d done your part in trying to uproot them.

Neither of you spoke about the incident after that.

It took a week of wavering smiles and faltering waves, of a wince or a jump when one of you spoke to the other, for you to eventually put it behind you.

Even with your minimal experience in Romantics, you knew something about the way König held you was different from every time before.

Or, maybe, you had only just awoken to the fact that such intent lay in all his actions towards you.

You tried not to think about it.

And besides, it made no sense to.

Since your crush had asked you to the school dance !

You’d made an effort to conceal that information from König, but he was fluent in the language that was you, and all its most obscure dialects.

You knew he’d figure it out sooner or later, whether you told him or some Rogue of Fate did.

But you wanted to live in this bubble of possibility for a bit longer.

Sure, you didn’t know your crush to a degree that you could call him as close a friends as König, but you’d done something to make him want you.

Your heart soared, chest swelled, the pit of pride held within.

And you waited.

And waited.

Your face grew sourer over time, the dripping of wax work, as realisation crossed your mind.

You didn’t want it.

This ivy – creeping – dread lacing around your heart, chains.

You felt your eyes kindle the embers of tears, your shoulders lowering yet remaining rigid, deflating.

And you jumped as a hand found your shoulder.

You knew who it was.

You could feel his fingerprints against your skin. Distinct as he was.

You turned, a sliver of relief finding you, nesting between the cracks in your chest as you set your eyes upon him.

He wore a dark suit, altered in the sleeves and legs to accommodate his height.

He’d gelled his hair to appear as one would in a romance film. At least, that was what you thought.

The very incarnation of a classic heartthrob.

Just for a second did your mind dare to tell you that this situation would not have happened if König had taken you to the dance.

The thought left you as you faced him fully, your hand coming atop his.

You squeezed it.

“Here all by your lonesome?” König said, voice low, a hint of humour within it, just short of malice.

You nodded. Dropped your head.

You went to talk, to say whatever came to your mind, when your voice gave way to tears.

König didn’t even flinch, even as your grip on his hand tightened.

Instead, he offered himself to you, bringing you close to him by your waist and holding you to his shoulder.

Bystanders would give a glance and König would give them death in a stare, and they quickly turned away.

The material of König’s jacket felt lavish, a far cry from the polyester of the other boys’ outfits.

You couldn’t place it. Not as your head panged with an oncoming headache and your heart burst with a reddening ocean, fire beginning to spark at the edges, boiling it.

You couldn’t help but go over every interaction you’d ever had with your crush, analysing it, scanning it, identifying any and every discrepancy that could have caused him to leave you this night.

And each time, your heart was heir to the shocks and bolts of despair, a palpable, gaseous substance that burned each time you inhaled, each time you thought

And as he held you, felt you shudder, quiver, into his shoulder the weight of your rejection bearing down on you, a far greater weight rested on his.

His demon sat there, smiling, grinning, the ghost of god.

He already had you flush against him, two cards packed tightly into the same pack.

“What’s wrong, Engel?” he said, softly, quietly. He rubbed your back, squeezed you.

“I am certain that whatever has you so upset is not worth your tears.”

And that just made you want to cry more.

The fact that König always knew what to say and when made the doubt from before – the regret – materialise.

König wouldn’t have done this to you. He wouldn’t have even thought about it.

“Come now, (Y/N),” he moved, his hand on your shoulder trailing the length of your arm and taking your hand.

You made no attempt to move.

He sighed, though you knew it was not of frustration. It was…something else.

König went still, then, his arm from your waist disappeared.

You nuzzled closer, an unconscious practice, as cold air hit your back.

“Listen !” he said, enthusiasm uncharacteristic of this situation laced in his tone.

You risked a glance, sniffing as you looked up at König.

He had a hand cupped over his ear, a makeshift megaphone. His gaze was occupied elsewhere, over your head.

“Do you hear that ?” he said.

Your chest stuttered with the remnants of your upset, and you strained to cease, to hear.

Music drifted over the sound of both idle and excited chatter, of the hazy, dusty, dusky layer of first love that had encompassed all.

All except you, it seemed.

You nodded into König’s chest, giving a cracked hum.

He finally looked down at you, both hands coming to yours.

He held them. Squeezed them once.

“It would be a waste for this song to go unremembered,” he said.

You gave a smile, strong as you could, yet it still turned out watery. Incomplete.

Something about König was…different.

You couldn’t quite tell what it was, but you knew you’d never seen it before.

His vehement denial of attending events such as these in the past had led you to the assumption he’d have stayed well away.

Now, you were glad he hadn’t.

Still, the prospect of König even existing in a roomful of people, nevermind being watched by them, stunned you to the extent that you were sure it usually would have König.

You gave a short nod, and offering you his arm, you rested your hand upon it.

That night, König kept you close to him, sheltering you from everything.

When you were at your lowest, he brought you cake and a drink, watched over you as you tried to make sense of it all.

Then, he encouraged you, slowly, softly, to dance a few steps with him.

It started with him taking your hand and pulling you, like rope, up from your chair.

You resisted, initially, terribly invested in the comfort and protection of the corner you’d both taken up.

You felt as if everyone else knew of your predicament – like they were aware of your suffering.

Were somehow party and privy to it.

It took König’s reassurances, his placating tone as he promised he’d “Let nothing happen to you,” and “you’re safe with me, Little One,”

And, on your knees, with nothing else filling your head save for the crushing defeat of a love you hadn’t even had chance to know, König was your only salvation.

At first, dancing was the last thing you wanted to do – especially when it was what you were planning on doing with the person who had ripped your confidence out.

Other couples melted into the atmosphere, the ambience, becoming the backdrop to this milestone in your life, making the experience feel somewhat…less lonesome.

That, and the gentle grasp König had on you.

He was particularly agile as he kept you both in time with the music, setting a gliding rhythm and spinning you in his arms.

Initially, he was slow, despite the upbeat music not permitting such.

It shocked you how little König cared about the million ways he himself would have identified his actions as making him ‘stick out like a sore thumb’.

And yet, his confidence reassured you.

Created a buffer between you and the rest of the world.

Though the sting of rejection followed you from each scene of this tragedy, its bite dulled, grained and blunted by the sheets of film placed over it, filled instead with the growing phantom of König, and you.

Little did you know that, inside, König was dying.

This place, this event, was a composite of all his worst nightmares, you being stolen from him included.

But, he knew that if he were not to face his demons – at least the ones that held him back – tonight, he’d lose you forever.

A sacrifice he’d make any day.

He only hoped you wouldn’t hear the clattering of his heart, feel it amid the plush layers of his suit.

Amidst the streamers and music and sticky scent of perfume and the slice of cologne filling the air made your mind hazy.

The music slowed the deeper into the night it became.

You swayed with König, your head against his shoulder, eyes shut. A glint of the dimming, pink lights reflecting against the disco ball pierced your eyelid, making you squeeze your eyes tightly, rub your face into the confines of König’s jacket.

He resisted the urge to let out a yell of victory.

The evening was drawing to a close, and König knew that, now, he had you.

Both mentally and physically.

He knew how untrusting you’d be towards your crush if you ever saw him again – if he ever dared to exist near you again.

And he knew how likely you were to take things like this – no matter how minimal the inconvenience – to heart.

König rested his chin atop your head. And, when you didn’t move, not one muscle, he relaxed onto you.

His mind and body had been a firework of nerves all day, waiting for even a second of doubt to cross your eyes, or your crush to come staggering out of the bin König had hidden him in.

But, here he was, the person he loved most in all the world with him and him alone.

Yet, despite his victory, he knew he couldn’t have you fully.

Not yet.

While no longer children, you both still had a considerable amount of time to change your minds, your mindsets, and so acting now while your life would be at its most volatile would be a wasted opportunity. A dangerous opportunity.

No, König knew when he had to act.

For now, he would abstain, take to your hand holding and secret sharing and forehead kissing until, one day, your eyes would open as his were, see the world with him as he did with you.

Pink. Rose-tinted as the very hall you occupied.

Act 3

König’s inclination of ownership over you did not cease with the coming and going of age; not as he advanced from teenhood to adulthood, nor as he outgrew his parents’ house and moved into his own.

If anything, it grew more palpable, yet not stronger.

It was already at its most imposing height, its final form, as König thought it.

The demon on his shoulders had retired to the corners of his mind since Prom night, surveilling everyone and everything that it thought a threat to your relationship with König.

And all the while, König kept it concealed from you.

König’s inclination of ownership over you did not cease with the coming and going of age; not as he advanced from teenhood to adulthood, nor as he outgrew his parents’ house and moved into his own.

You both ended up moving within close proximity to each other, though, given his occupation (which you’d vehemently warned and even denied him of doing) kept him away for many months of the year.

Resultingly, König could think of no-one better to guard his house and all its worldly possessions than you.

“What’s mine is yours,” he told you, handing you your very own set of keys.

“So you’ll see no point in stealing my shirts again.”

“Oh my god, that was one time! I was cold and it was just there !”

“Just say you missed me and save us both the effort.”

But seriously though, König almost died the first time he saw you in one of his shirts.

He leaves them strewn about in easy-to-reach places in the hopes that, one evening, he’ll come home and see you bundled up on the sofa, wrapped in one.

He gets a little frisky when he sees you in them.

First time, he thought you were adorable, pint-sized in his clothing.

And then, once the initial shock had worn off, his mind began to wander to…places.

He himself was rather taken aback by the ferocity of these fantasies, now breaking through the surface of his dignity to plague him.

He knows you have a preference for one of his hoodies, and he’s seen you wear it enough times to know that your birthday present this year was going to be very easy to choose.

He could have wept for the joy that spread across your face when he gifted you the hoodie, watching you wriggle into it before the wrapping paper had chance to fall to the ground.

He had to excuse himself to the bathroom soon after, though.

You honestly spent as much time at König’s as you did at your own home.

Watering his plants, dusting the shelves, cleaning before he returned home; König found it all to be quite domestic.

Especially whenever he was ill and you were always there to make him feel better.

Like one time, when he was hit with a  particularly bad cold, and was bed-ridden for three days.

You came and cared for him, cooked for him, catered to his every need with neither hesitation, nor complaint.

During his delirium, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have you around like this all the time – to have you as his housespouse.

The thought, to König’s heavy, weary head, was particularly appealing, nigh euphoric, and when he slept he dreamt of you, serving him as you did now.

And he’d return the favour, of course.

It was in times like these that König’s mind began to…degrade, one might say.

More so than it already was.

Whether it was delusion or a sheer desire to have you, König began to try and make these scenarios a reality.

Make no mistake, he’d had similar ideas when he was younger, but now he had both the means and the time to actually do it.

And König’s mind had no qualms with exploring the darker avenues of this possibility, of the methods of how to enact it.

In the meantime, he was perfectly content with keeping you close to him while you watched films together, your head on his chest, arms wrapped around him.

“My big bear,” you called him.

And a bear to most, he was.

Ferocious and positively massive, his mere presence was enough to frighten off potential suitors.

And friends.

That, coupled with his often silent exterior made for a terrifying experience to all that were not you or the handful of allies König had.

Often, you’d call him whenever you were frightened, or anxious.

Especially if you were out in the evening.

Not that König ever left you during those hours; regardless of the time of night or day, he’d accompany you anywhere and everywhere, your shadow.

But, on the rare occasion he was kept away, you’d call him, ask him to talk to you, keep you grounded.

One evening, you’d made the mistake of not telling König you were leaving to go out, and when he woke up at some odd hour of the night to find you gone, his first, soldier instinct was to panic.

He swept the house, found you nowhere, and began calling your phone so many times it very well could have exploded.

And when you answered, voice laced with sleep and heavy without judgement, König had to resist the urge to cry out in relief.

“(Y/N), where are you?”

“Corner shop. Had to get some snacks.”

Had he not still been coming down from the panic high, König would have considered being angry.

“All right, just stay there. Don’t leave the store until I find you.”

“How do you even know which store—”

Needless to say, König was not best pleased to find you practically putting your life on the line for a bagful of crisps, a chocolate bar and…a toy fish?

“Impulse buy,” you told him.

König sighed.

“Next time, try not to act on your impulses so quickly.”

Like me, the voice told himself.

Your hand was shackled in his for the duration of the walk home.

And the whole night as you slept together.

Though, despite your blatant lac of self-awareness or judgement, König couldn’t help hut find you endearing.

The chocolate in your bag was his favourite brand, one which you couldn’t stand.

You’d gone out to do it for him.

He pulled you into his chest, practically purring as you nuzzled into his chest, enveloped completely by him.

“I’ll always protect you, Y/N,” he said, running a hand through your hair. “I promise.”

Even during those moments where you were at your most intimate, regardless of how innocent your intent.

The first instance of this, a most shocking development, occurred when you and König had visited the beach.

It was a few months before his deployment to a far-away military base to train.

The two of you, as was to be expected, wore swimsuits.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

It was only when you’d shed your thin jacket that König was affected.

His gaze fixed on you, unable to be torn away as he took in the silhouette of your body.

He’d never had an innate desire to see you partially, or fully undressed, even when he was at his most hormonal.

His love and appreciation for you had been based purely on you, your demeanour, your personality.

So to now see you having shed your fledgling body in return for one that was more mature, more defined, König couldn’t take it.

Sure, he’d seen people scantily clad before, though that was in magazines and shopping catalogues and movies that never quite took his fancy.

Not real life.

And they had never been you.

König felt a familiar tightness forming in his swim shorts.

He swallowed thickly, the sun suddenly too hot, the sand suddenly too sharp.

And then, you had to bring him closer to ruin.

“Köni,” you called, melodic, a tune König would fall for every time.

“Would you help put this sunscreen on my back?”

This was all moving so fast.

Sure, he’d had thoughts of being intimate with you before, but they’d only been thoughts, hallucinations, even.

And he knew they weren’t real, weren’t palpable.

Unlike this.

Hesitantly, fearing his secret would become apparent to you, he sat beside you, legs clasped together as he tried desperately to keep you oblivious to the growing issue.

He’d lathered the cream between his waiting hands, and his breath shuttering, placed them upon your skin.

You were soft. Tiny in König’s giant hands.

He’d have cursed his genetics for making him so adept at this practice – for making it pass too quickly – was he not fighting every moral and ethic he had yet to break.

You purred as his hands slid from the to the bottom of your back, your unintentional mewls destroying König’s resolve.

His hands dipped, slowly, fractionally, down your sides, close to your front, your chest.

He wanted to.

God, he wanted to.

But he knew not to risk it.

Abstain. Abstain, the voice told him.

He resisted, took in your body feverishly one last time before he got up, finished, his hulking figure blocking out the sunlight.

“Be right back,” he’d told you.

And off he sped to the nearest bathroom, where, whimpering into the jacket he’d balled over his fist and put to his mouth, he apologised over and over to you, his toes curling as he brought himself to a reluctant conclusion.

He returned soon, just as he’d said.

You smiled back at him from your shallow edge of the ocean, waving him over.

He declined, instead hiding beneath the shade of the umbrella.

He was still sensitive between his legs, as was his mind.

He wouldn’t risk compromising himself again. Not when he was so close to having you.

Or so he thought.

After that first encounter with his own beasteous appetite for you to a more…carnal degree, König had begun to indulge in some personal delights.

AKA, stealing your underwear and using it to get off during his long trips away.

And, whenever he stayed over, he’d take his opportunity to rifle through your drawers, gather intel (as he was so trained), see what new clothes you’d bought (why – and who for?).

You and König took to sharing a bed again.

Perhaps it was the false assurance of maturity that stopped you from realising – from seeing – how König felt about you.

Whenever he would come and pay you a visit, the afternoons would transform from a dusk-ridden sky to a languid black wine speckled with the universe’s offspring.

And there you and König would be, in bed together, talking for what would always be hours about anything and everything.

Much like that time in the tunnel, neither of you spoke of your time at the dance, though rather for you it was a source of hurt, whereas König, proof of conquest.

Regardless, you’d both matured, left school, and had pursued your own paths.

All while remaining as close as you had since childhood.

König’s decision to join the military had been one you’d discussed at length.

Or rather, you’d tried to convince him of staying.

He won that particular argument.

Not that he’d have let you stay mad at him, anyway.

“I can handle myself extraordinarily well, mein Maus.”

Your eyebrow quirks up.

“König, I’ve never seen you hurt a fly, nevermind a person.”

His stomach dropped when he remembered that you didn’t know about his…altercation with the boy who almost stole you from him all those years ago.

And the odd few he’d instigated whenever a potential suitor walked onto the scene.

He gets called away on business a lot, so you find other ways of communicating.

He’s not permitted to use a mobile phone since it serves as both a distraction and a vehicle for tracking, and the last thing König would do is put you in harm’s way.

Instead, you send each other letters, from addresses different to your true ones, of course.

You often send him books you know he’ll like, going through and annotating all the parts you found funny, sad, or profound.

And there was always a heartfelt note trapped within the pages, pinned to the paper in ink.

He has a limited edition copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s The Tell Tale Heart and a body of his other works that he keeps hidden beneath his bed.

‘Limited edition’ because you’d gone out of your way to print out each page of the book when you were just children, unable to purchase the book for both a lack of personal finances and not wanting to get König into trouble for reading such dark material.

Perhaps that had been some precursor to what your lives would become – a foreshadow over you.

The copy König had was worn, despite his best efforts to preserve it.

Dog-eared corners, blunted edges and yellowed, softened paper.

Some of the ink had scratches through the letters, faded.

And between those pages, a picture of you was held.

Each night, König would hold that photograph between his fingers, sometimes quivering with adrenaline, other times numb with the same affliction.

And, without fail, your visage brought him to sleep, to slumber, to a recreation of your domestic future that played behind his eyelids.

Your letters kept him more than excited, too.

When he’d be gone for months at a time, you’d update him on your life occurrences; birthdays, anecdotes, work complications; König lived for it all.

All, except, for one sliver of news which you’d so foolishly told König.

And, as he held your letter between his clenching, grasping, white-knuckled hands, his teeth gritted, his eyes going wide, breath billowing from his nose like steam.

You’d started to fancy someone at work.

König did something he’d never done with your letters before.

He crumpled it between his fingers, his every nerve ablaze with the need to do something, to intervene.

König knew he wasn’t thinking straight, but he didn’t care.

This was different from Prom; he couldn’t reach you here.

That day, König’s kill count far exceeded that of his peers, many bodies ravaged with enough stab wounds to think them sacrifices for some angry god.

His teammates seemed a little reluctant to cooperate with him this time round, and steered clear of him for the duration of the mission.

Days later, König was home.

His fury remained with him, that demon he’d harboured for so many years now emerging from the corners of his personality.

But he knew to conceal it from you – knew how to.

He arrived at your doorstep before he’d even gone home yet.

To him, you were his home.

And as you invited him inside, his mask no longer an instigator of fright to you but of your best friend, your soulmate in another life.

König took little time to settle in your living room, putting his overnight bag somewhere, all the while his mind still rubbed raw with the mission.

And you.

Seeing as he’d been gone for some months, he knew he’d need to be attentive to the way you spoke of this new ‘crush’ of yours.

I’ll crush him, all right, he said to himself.

He couldn’t be sure how serious you were about him.

How deep a threat he was.

You’d cooked König’s favourite in anticipation of his arrival, having developed something of a sixth sense when it came to his making an appearance.

And as you brought him his fresh, spare clothes from your wardrobe, König couldn’t help but let a comment slip.

“We’re like an old married couple,” he said, stitching a laugh between his words to give the illusion of jest. Of humour.

An easy deflection tactic.

You gave no indication of rejection.

No idea of disgust.

You only laughed.

“Yeah,” you said, placing König’s meal down in front of him.

“I suppose we do.”

And, as you went to pull away, König took your wrist, gently, in his hand.

He dwarfed you in every aspect, and this was no different.

But something that was different that you’d picked up was his stare.

It was deep, almost half-lidded in its demeanour.

König’s hand slipped from your wrist into yor hand, holding it, gently, like porcelain.

You squeezed his fingers.

“Something wrong, König ?” you asked, turning to give him your full attention.

He paused for a moment, then two, then three.

“No.” he said, final and certain. He let you go.

“Nothing at all.”

König began showing up to your work.

Since you stayed at each other’s houses as much as you did as children, König found it almost frighteningly easy to make you blunder.

He’d take your lunch out the fridge and hide it, only to deny ever having seen it when you searched for it in the morning.

Later that same day, König would come and pay you a visit, dropping off your lunch, claiming it to have “been in the back of the fridge. Must’ve missed it, Silly,” and he’d give you a smile.

The first few times, he’d treated your artificial oblivion to your surroundings as ‘cute’, ‘endearing’.

Then, when you began ‘misplacing’ your keys, your phone, everyday essentials, König would shoot you a concerned look.

“(Y/N), Sweetie–” he’d look in the cupboards with you, a look of concern laced into his features.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right ? You’ve been losing track of your things for quite a while now.”

At first, you could only give him quick reassurances before rushing off to work.

Rushing off to see him.

And König would remain.

Searching the house not for your lost items, but for those he could hide next.

You’d never find them again.

You’d have to get copies of your keys, a new phone – replace all the contacts you lost,

And even then, König made sure you’d have to work for the ones he didn’t want you to have.

Like His.

Eventually, three months into this plan, this scheme, König made a proposition.

He sat you down at his dining table, his hand atop yours, holding it.

He appeared genuine.

True.

“(Y/N),” he said, almost exasperatedly.

“I’m…concerned about you.”

He gave you a second to consider what he was saying, wanting to give you the illusion of verbal freedom.

When you only nodded eyebrows knitted together in mirrored concern, he inhaled deeply.

“And, considering how…” he pretended to rummage around in his mind for the right word. “Forgetful you’ve been recently…” he watched you. Tried to gauge your reaction. Something flickered behind your eyes.

Annoyance.

König began to tread carefully.

“I thought that, perhaps, just for a week or so, you could try…living here.”

He waited in silence, for your confirmation.

Or denial.

You sniffed, rubbed your eye, and settled your weary head into your hand.

König pushed further.

“Unless…” he cast his gaze down, to the oak table.

“You don’t think I’d be able to care for you.”

At that, your eyes widened, and you clasped König’s hand between yours.

Desperate.

“Oh, no, Köni !” You exclaimed. “I-I can think of no-one better to look after me than you !”

König cast you a doubtful look.

“But…?”

You swallowed.

“But…” you retracted. König had to resist the need to pull you back into his arms.

“But you’re just so busy. I don’t know if… I’d just be a burden to you.”

König almost let out a snort.

“A burden ?” he said, leaning back in his chair, as if taking an arrow of offence straight to the heart.

“My dear, you would never be a burden to me.”

He leaned in, took your hands in his again.

His voice lowered. Soft. The flight of a bird across the ocean’s face.

“Ever.”

You looked up from your lap.

Your eyes were glassed. Doll-ish.

You sniffed. Sniffed again.

A tear fell onto the hoodie you wore. The one König gifted you.

“Okay.” You relented.

The shark tore the bird from its glide, dragging its corpse into the abyss.

König squoze your hands.

“You won’t regret it,” he assured you.

You were his prisoner from then on.

You just didn’t know it yet.

König left on official business not long after you moved in.

You still had you other apartment, but the way König spoke of it, using ‘was’, ‘were’ and ‘used to be’, gave the impression that it was off-limits to you now.

Lost.

You were allowed time off work after explaining your predicament to your boss.

She was supportive, told you to take as much time off as you needed.

As you bade König a farewell at the door, something about him felt…different.

You could feel it in the way he gripped you, pulled you up to him, his arms around your waist, hanging lower than usual.

His breath hot against your neck, the phantom brush of his lips against your most sensitive part.

And when you withdrew, König imparted only a sliver of advice to you.

“Don’t go into the basement.”

The look on your face implored ‘why?’, yet your lips did not.

König set your mind at ease regardless.

“There’s a bit of damp down there. Don’t want you getting sick–” He looked at you, smiling. “–er.”

And he bore himself into the night, shedding König and becoming a killer.

That night, when the TV had little to offer in the way of entertainment, and your phone offered little incentive to play games or socialise, your mind began to wander.

Through meniality, then obscurity.

You thought about your old home, and everything in it you loved.

Your heart ached for it, for everything you’d left behind there.

I’m sure König wouldn’t mind if I…just had a little time at home.

You consorted with your mental audience.

After all, he’s going to be gone for at least a few weeks.

Standing from the sofa, legs wobbling with inactivity, you hunted for your keys.

König kept his on a hook by the door.

But when you checked it, yours were nowhere to be found.

You searched your shared bedroom, the drawer.

You found something…peculiar.

You lifted a pair of underwear from within that you swore you’d lost months ago – before you’d ever moved in with König.

Perhaps I’m mistaken, you thought.

Rationalised.

I probably just packed these without thinking. Found them in the wash bin and threw them into a suitcase.

And you continued your search.

Soon, however, you were beginning to run out of rooms, and you were growing restless.

The longer you were forced to abstain from the outside world, the more ants felt like they were crawling under your skin

Eventually, despite König’s warning, you had no choice but to descend into the basement.

And you did so.

Quietly.

The feeling of having König over your shoulder didn’t leave with him.

Not this time.

And, as you clambered the newly-cleaned stairs down, you saw a dim light peeking out from beneath the door frame.

You reached for the handle, breath bated with the hope of discovery.

Your keys had to be here, right ?

Reaching for the handle, you opened the door.

And everything stopped.

For a second, you didn’t believe what you were seeing.

The source of the light had been candles.

Many, many candles, varying shades of your favourite colours, blended into a macabre rainbow over a horrifyingly familiar artifact you’d assumed had been lost to time.

The Bestie Bible.

Mounted on a makeshift pillar and aged with childlike handling, though it was noticeably pristine.

Stepping back, you hit something.

A wall that hadn’t been there before.

You gasped, turning on your heel.

A man stood before you, but it wasn’t König.

It couldn’t be.

Though identical in build, in height, and in the way he stood, this veiled man was not your König.

At least, not the König you’d grown up with.

He took a step forwards. You scrambled back.

Ending...

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist

Masterpost

#mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you #yandere mw2 #yandere mw2 x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig modern warfare #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig x yn #yandere konig #yandere konig x reader #yandere könig #konig headcanons #mw2 headcanons #yandere

[yunarim]

hellou I would like to ask (for reasons that the movie will be released soon~) for the dorm leaders reacting to their mc explaining to them with everything and power-point everything about barbie, they even watch her movies (they need to have barbie culture °^°)9 ), songs (mc starts to sing the songs of the Princess and the Pauper bc it's inevitable not to do it xd), toys, etc, and in the end mc gets sentimental because barbie was part of her childhood :') so that all Thank you very much <3 and have a good day *hug*

﹢ ﹒🩰 WRITTEN IN YOUR HEART and you're always free to believe ♡

♡ SYNOPSIS : reader introducing barbie culture to the dorm leaders !

♡ TAGS : implied female reader (but no pronouns used actually), fluff, implied reader has all the movies downloaded on the phone and got transmigrated with it, watch me being emo about barbie movies, games & songs because totally not me was obsessed with them in my childhood—

♡ NOTES : OMG ANON LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG TOO you're just in time bc i replayed barbie in the 12 dancing princesses literally a week ago sdhkjh THIS REQUEST IS SO SWEET i felt it with all my both mind and soul

— ❀ RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

How could you not realize it before!! When you asked Riddle if there is something you can help with since you’ve noticed he’s been quite preoccupied with too many things to handle, he said you may assist flamingo caretakers but there’s one rule that you absolutely mustn’t violate. According to rule 249, ‘Flamingo caretakers are to don pink attire’ which happens to be extremely… pinkish. 

Riddle notices you following the rule by heart, but you seem to hum a song unknown to him. He asks why would even sing something like ‘We spin for you, Janessa, and chasse for you, Kathleen, we pirouette for Lacey, and we bow before the queens’ and among those lines… Riddle can understand the ‘bow before the queens’ line, but who are those people in the first place? You ask him if barbie culture even exists in their world and when you find out there’s none— 

Riddle takes your introduction to barbie lessons just as diligently as professors' magic lessons. He wonders if you perform this excellently on tests as well since the way you turned all the information into neatly assigned diagrams and schemes is astonishing. You came up with the idea of homework because he’s familiar with such, so the task you assigned him to finish by the end of the week was to remember the Birthday Song you were singing in the garden. 

He knows that all the barbie aesthetic is important to you by the way your eyes glow with joy whenever he brings you something barbie related. You got all Heartslabyul jamming to barbie songs, which is not against the rules. In fact, when Riddle spotted that even Trey started singing ‘If I want some eggs I ring the bell, and the maid comes running in’, he decided there is one more rule that needs to be added to the list, which is ‘One must sing ‘I am a girl like you’ when cooking’. 

One day during an unbirthday party Riddle gifted you a handmade barbie doll according to your descriptions. He did make it himself but with a little touch of magic so it came out quite nice. He thought you would scream and maybe jump out of your seat but you just drew the doll right to your heart and teared up a little, causing Riddle to get confused for a moment. But once you explained that it’s very touching and means a lot to you, he smiled reassuringly. You’re an honorable ambassador of barbie culture in Heartslabyul now.

— ❀ LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Even if Leona doesn’t say it, he’s grown quite fond of you enough to shamelessly tell you that you need to do the thing that always puts him to sleep, which is singing a lullaby. Usually you would just hum something incoherently and watch Leona snore on your lap but this time you decided to fall into the embrace of your childhood and sing ‘No one to say when to eat or read or leave or stay, that would be the day’. Leona opened one eye and asked if you were actually trying to put him into sleep or emphasize on his upbringing for some reason. 

Next day you tell him if he falls asleep while you two watch ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’, you will never ever sing him to sleep again. He just yawns you away but agrees anyway since it’s the first time he sees you so agitated. Somehow ends up providing you with plot analysis as the movie goes on. This is the moment you know you got him.

Leona thinks he doesn’t care about your childish movies and things and then spends twenty minutes explaining to Ruggie why ‘Barbie in the Nutcracker’ is obviously superior. Leona: started as a joke and ended up genuinely investing into barbie culture. Ruggie: started as a way to fool around and ended up kinning Erika (Leona tells him to come back down to earth since Ruggie’s no queen like Erika was).

One day gifted you Princess Anneliese doll with ‘You’re just like me’ line — whatever he meant by that — and your reaction turned out to be so amusing so he started casually gifting you other barbie dolls just to (enjoy your beautiful smile but he won’t tell you this) entertain himself. Now whoever visits Ramshackle often asks how did you get an enormously large collection of pretty dolls but your dorm remains so ruin-like. Needless to say that you would be considered rich in your world for having such a huge collection in your property.

Now asks you to watch barbie movies together instead of singing him to sleep but ends up never falling asleep before he watches till the end. You throw quick glances to check if he’s asleep and he pretends he is, though his tail can not lie, revealing his honest reaction to plot twists. Cheka visited once, and now thanks to you everyone in Afterglow Savannah is cultured.

— ❀ AZUL ASHENGROTTO

All popular cafes in the city were holding some events with advertising new products as a main purpose. Azul couldn’t afford falling behind so he needed to come up with original and creative ideas as soon as possible. Since you were working part-time at Mostro Lounge, you suggested holding barbie inspired events. When you found out no one in Twisted Wonderland knew barbie, you were so shocked that you asked (or rather demanded) Azul to entrust all the preparations to you. 

At first no one really understood what’s the point of decorating Mostro Lounge with pink glittering and shining stuff but when you suddenly came up on the stage and started singing simple yet touching songs, everyone started getting the main idea. But the pièce de résistance became none other than Bibble plushies. You sewed the very first version, and Azul grew to love the new Mostro Lounge’s mascot so much he now has an enormously huge Bibble plush toy in his dorm room. You always say it needs to be resewed but he already got a soft spot for it.

Azul is absolutely in love with all the outfits you come up with for the performances, but most importantly he can’t throw out of his mind the songs you performed. Ended up recreating instrumental music from Mermaidia just according to your vague descriptions of how it should sound, and it turned out perfect. You once accustomed his outfit to resemble Nori’s one and well— It’s totally not you who wants to see his merform with Nori’s accessories and makeup, surely not, nuh-uh. 

Gifts you barbie mermaid doll, its outfit pieces made from pearls from Coral Sea. You don’t even know if you can accept such a precious gift, considering you didn’t expect Azul to think about how important it was for you. So you came up with the idea that he also should perform with you on stage, accompanying you by playing piano. 

Singing songs from ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’ became Octavinelle tradition thanks to you. But also please don’t sabotage Azul with a recording of him crying his eyes out while listening to you singing ‘Written in your heart’ alright?  Also would do anything to see you dressed up as Elina but you most certainly didn’t hear Floyd and Jade telling you this info. You most certainly didn’t see the Mermaidia art piece appearing in the Atlantica Memorial Museum either.

— ❀ KALIM AL-ASIM

The first ever time you’re taking a magic carpet ride with Kalim, you realize that maybe this is how Barbie felt riding a pegasus. When Kalim asks who is Barbie and what pegasus even is, you explain in vivid detail the whole plot of ‘Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus’ and start singing ‘Cause hope has wings to carry you’. Kalim doesn’t even know the song but somehow ends up guessing the lyrics and the vibe so you two are taking crazy carpet flips and giving Jamil a hard time watching you from the ground. (Spoiler: the next day Jamil is having a hard time listening to Kalim saying they should get a pegasus somewhere.)

Okay apparently you got Kalim planning to recreate the whole ‘Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses’ with his siblings because he’s totally invested. HELP he’s so down that he’s been asking you details about barbie outfits for a week, so now it looks like he’s more fan than you are. 

Every time you visit Scarabia, Kalim greets you with performances you’ve never thought can be recreated in real life. One day he decorated his magic carpet with light purple jewelry encrusted in the fabrics, the next day he was dressed up as Derek from ‘Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses’ and asked you for a dance. It was extremely silly because you suddenly remembered the PC game you played and how ridiculous princesses movements were but you got so immersed into dance you decided to let your inner child arise. 

Kalim gifts you 12 dancing princesses dolls collection made by him and his siblings and you straight up start crying out of joy and how thoughtful it is for you, which gets Kalim just as emotional as you, so now Jamil has to take care of two crying silly idiots.  Kalim is the one who helps you advertise barbie throughout Twisted Wonderland, because everyone needs to grow fond of it. He also suggests you ask the headmaster if you could assign pink and lilac as Ramshackle dorm's official color scheme so everyone would know you’re a barbie ambassador here in Twisted Wonderland. Also thought it would be a good idea to make hymns for every dorm based on barbie songs but couldn’t decide which one would fit Scarabia, so he just ended up randomly starting singing whatever pops up in his mind.

— ❀ VIL SCHOENHEIT

Usually you just enjoy going shopping with Vil and you’re usually calm and collected, but when you suddenly screamed Vil thought something happened. You almost started crying out of nowhere and when Vil came closer to you and took a look at the glass case he saw a butterfly-shaped necklace. When you started spinning around and bursting in soft giggles, Vil could have sworn he saw pinkish sparkles blossoming around you. Turned out the necklace reminded you of the similar one that appeared in Barbie Fairytopia of which Vil had no idea. 

Next day you presented an insanely well-made research on all barbie outfits from every movie, video game and doll. Rook tagged along for beauty and aesthetic appreciation and Epel just heard you mentioning having barbie jeep cruiser convertible car playset so now you’ve got Pomefiore in full force listening to you explaining what barbie culture means in your world and somehow they ended up investing into it quite unironically.

When Epel shows you a magazine issue the next month, you have your jaw somewhere on the floor because the Vil Schoenheit just released a photoshoot inspired by ‘Barbie: A Fashion Fairytale’ you once showed to him. He understands the impact of barbie culture on your generation and realizes how trendy it can get in Twisted Wonderland. 

Not Vil passing the casting for a film adaptation of ‘Barbie and The Diamond Castle’ based on the movie you have saved on your phone— And not the Neige LeBlanch playing Alexa… In any case you can’t imagine what started as you getting excited over a necklace similar to Barbie’s one, ended up Vil and Neige starring in one of your favorite movies but here in Twisted Wonderland. 

He gives you the necklace, but not that similar one you saw in a shop. He proudly gifts you the necklace just like in the movie you watched with him after introducing barbie culture, and you tear up, saying you won’t ever take it off and it’ll be on your neck forever. Now you’ve got Vil (and actually a whole Pomefiore considering they should make adjustments in their dorm’s aesthetic choices) genuinely liking barbie culture thanks to you.

— ❀ IDIA SHROUD

You were playing video games with Idia when something suddenly slapped you — the game resembles ‘Barbie Diaries’ so much!! When Idia asks you what the hell is barbie, you jump from the chair and drop your px5 controller. No way… there is no way Idia doesn’t know this masterpiece, you thought he got influenced by barbie culture while growing up.

You can’t say no to this challenge, so the next day the powerpoint party you decided to hold got extremely serious and unironically informative. You’ve got everything prepared: how barbie was created, when the movies were released, which dolls were to die for, and of course… games!! 

Let’s be real, it’s Idia who’s investing, and he’s investing hard. He got all the songs from ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’ memorized in an hour after listening to your presentation. He doesn’t care if people think it’s a childish thing, NO WAY it’s childish when the ‘When you live your dream, you’ll find destiny is written in your heart’ line LITERALLY EXISTS. 

He makes barbie PC games based on your descriptions in a span of one day because he’s already a true barbie stan and he doesn’t care if he’s sleep deprived. He’s got all the barbie movies you sent him to watch. Idia also is being sad because how the hell Twisted Wonderland couldn’t came up with something so genuinely genius. He also sighs and complains to you that he kinda fell behind and would be late for the trend if he was in your world because he started stanning barbie after it became mainstream, but you reassure him that it’s alright and he can be barbie ambassador in Twisted Wonderland with you. 

When you help him arrange a barbie doll collection no one knows how Idia even recreated, he also gives to you a huge dollhouse with barbie playsets you’ve mentioned briefly. Right when you’re about to tear up, he gets panicked but also installs on your laptop all the PC barbie games he managed to create based on your words. Please don’t abandon him and play all the barbie games he created with him in his room. It's obviously better to (share the memories but he’s too shy to say it out loud okay—) play them on his computer anyway. 

You can wake him up at 3 in the morning and randomly say ‘Can’t go back, so we gotta go on, we’ll stick together, staying strong’ and he’ll perfectly accompany you with his eyes closed, humming ‘There’s a diamond castle in my mind and someday soon’ because he memorized all the songs. Ortho mentions how Idia starts singing barbie songs here and there in the dorm. Idia also wants to provide you with cosplay materials, so if you don’t mind…

— ❀ MALLEUS DRACONIA

Once Malleus mentions he’s a fae during late night strolls around Ramshackle, you suddenly start singing softly ‘Fairytopia’s where I wanna be, Dandelion and Bibble next to me’ and Malleus gets so confused. Who… are Dandelion and Bibble? Also Fairytopia? Is it what your homeland calls? Are there faes in your world too? Tell him everything!

You show movies you downloaded on your phone (even if you never thought the very first thing you would show on your phone would be barbie movies, moreover it’s Malleus who’s bad with technologies) and he immediately starts asking you questions like ‘Why would Laverna want to destroy the rainbow and plunge Fairytopia into bitter winter?’, ‘Are there different types of fairies or only the ones that have wings behind their backs?”, and many other things. 

He also wants to know if you’re not opposed to the idea of dancing with him like 12 dancing princesses did. You also sing to him when you feel like it, and once he heard of ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’ he felt as if he was enchanted. Turns ‘Free’ into opera performance with Lilia filming him for something he referred to as ‘family archives’, Silver being happy Malleus-sama is happy, and Sebek tearing up because his master is absolutely majestic, brilliant, wonderful, outstanding and—

He doesn’t really understand the concept of collecting dolls but sees Lilia’s room getting filled with them (Diasomnia vice dorm leader doesn’t really know he ordered them from Idia but that’s another story—) and smiles. Malleus also rehearses the songs with Silver in the meadow so he could impress you later. 

You feel like crying when it's a warm sunset dissolving in pink and peach colors and Malleus sings ‘In my heart I’d be glad if you loved me for me’. It’s touching and reminds you of your home so much you can’t resist and tear up, Malleus gently stroking your head. Once you calm down, he grins and says there’s something he wants to present to you. He doesn’t know how to make or at least where to buy barbie dolls, people are also terrified of him so there’s no way he could play a role in a movie like Vil Schoenheit, but he’s a fae. He doesn't have fragile pinkish wings, but he’s a powerful magician who wants to thank you for introducing such an adorable culture to him.

So he magically creates a beautiful bright rainbow just for you, giving you an enchanted butterfly-shaped necklace, resembling one that Elina had in ‘Barbie Fairytopia’, so if you’ll have a hard time, just touch the necklace, and the small version of a magic rainbow will appear. ‘Hope will blossom by believing the heart that lies within’.

© yunarim 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

[xhoneygirlxx]

my salvation

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: when it all becomes too much, you go to one person.

warnings: established relationship, mentions of mental health issues, depression/anxiety, panic attack. pronouns not used, Eddie calls reader pet names (baby, sweetheart, honey, etc.). modern au!, current technology and movies mentioned. bad writing and not proofread, if there are any grammar mistakes pretend like it's not there. pictures used do not describe reader in anyway, only used for aesthetic purposes. 18+ Minors please go away :)

a/n: as someone who deals with panic attacks, sometimes all i want is for someone to just hold me. there's moments where i don't want any questions asked because i can become embarrassed very easily which makes it worse. if any of you guys are dealing with mental health issues, just know that you are loved, and my page is always a safe place <3

The room is shrouded in darkness, the only light is the yellow shine of the streetlamp outside your room. When you got home from work, you told Eddie that you needed to lay down, physically drained from the week you had just had. Your boyfriend being the angel he is, helped you into the bed and placed a wet kiss on your head, telling you if you needed anything just to call for him and he'd be there.

Work had been a nightmare recently, your whole department swamped with ten times the work you're used to due to an overflow of paperwork. Your boss, Doug, had been an asshole to you in particular, even though you weren't even the head of your team. It didn't matter because he made it a point to single you out, ride your ass all week, and when all was said and done he never thanked you for all the late shifts you pulled to get it all back together.

The whole way home all you could think about was your bed, curling up under the blankets, and just turning the whole world off. It was Friday night and rather than spend time with your boyfriend that you hadn't seen all week because of conflicting working schedules, you were laying in bed too exhausted to do anything else.

However you couldn't sleep, your eyes screaming to rest, yet your mind couldn't shut off. There was something happening, swarm of emotions starting in your mind, and you were trying everything to keep out of the eye of the storm.

As you stare up at the dark ceiling you could feel the burn behind your eyes, crawling it's way out to be released. Your body was sinking further and further into the bed like a cement block. The tingle of your fingers had alerted you, setting off the bells and whistles in your head.

The room that you were once in is now gone, replaced by grey skies and dark water. The waves are choppy, quick, and strong, pushing you around like a ragdoll being chewed on by a dog. Kicking your legs and pushing your arms, you try to stay afloat.

The pounding of your heart is loud, beating deafeningly in your ears like a kick drum. It's constant, it's overwhelming, and you can't control it. Your mouth won't open, refusing to cooperate like you swallowed a bunch of super glue, trapping it shut.

While you're trying to save yourself from the dark abyss you were heading into, you couldn't feel your legs anymore, like you were paralyzed by impending doom.

Here in the dark bedroom that you and your boyfriend share, you lay motionless, tears rolling down the side of your cheeks onto the pillow under your head. Your chest is moving rapidly up and down, trying to find the air that it desperately needs.

You're trying everything that you learned in your years of therapy, repeating all the street names of your childhood neighborhood, counting Mississippi's, naming every thing you see, touch, hear. Every tool, every lesson that you were taught, and nothing is working. The life preservers and rafts aren't helping you survive these tsunami like waves.

You can't do this on your own, fight this battle without any teammates. You know the minute you try to stand your legs will give out on you, so there's only one thing you can do. Reaching your hand to the nightstand next to the bed, you pat your hand around trying your last weapon.

When you feel your phone in the palm of your hand, you move it quickly to your face. The words on the bright screen are hard to see with the way your neck is craned and the tears that are blurring your vision.

With whatever strength you have, you text Eddie, praying to the gods above that he can hear his phone over his video game. Without trying to alert him, you simply tell him that you need him to come to you.

You can hear him, laughing and joking with his friends on his headset. The voice of the only person who can save you from drowning is right behind that door, yet he feels so far away.

Shutting your phone off and throwing it somewhere on the bed, you continue to sit there in the darkness, tied down by the invisible chains your mind has wrapped around you.

No matter how hard you try, you can't seem to get the oxygen to your lungs. The pounding of your heart is growing louder, the waves are getting stronger and stronger, pulling you completely under.

What you don't realize is that your salvation is right there, reaching his hand out and pulling you up from the angry sea.

Through the crashing sounds of the water you hear him, his voice brings you back to safety. When you open your eyes he's there, hovering over you, calling out to you like an angel at the pearly white gates.

"Baby," the mattress dips down beside you where he's sat, "Baby, hey, what's wrong?"

Blinking away the salty water from your eyes, you can see Eddie. His eyebrows scrunched up in worry, mouth pulled down with a frown. Because of the bright lamp he must've turned on, you can see his eyes, big chocolate pools swarming with concern, flickering back and forth trying to study your face.

The minute you register what's happening it all comes crashing down, the fear, the sadness, the worry. Your mouth that was once locked shut, has finally freed itself from it restraints. No words come out, only the loud sobbing that was trapped in your throat.

You can hear the shuffling from your boyfriend, the pressure of his full body weight next to you. He doesn't hesitate to hold you, engulfing you into a bear hug. You wish that you could feel your limbs, that the fuzziness that pulses through them would go away, so you could feel his touch.

Your whole body is shaking, releasing all the emotion that was trapped inside. The sound of your pounding heart is now replaced with your wailing that vibrates off of Eddie's chest. The cotton of his shirt is soaked with tears and snot, and you know that when you pull away you won't look pretty but you can't care, not when your lungs are burning with the sea water you swallowed while drowning.

"It's okay sweetheart, I got you." Eddie's voice rattles through his chest, right where your head lays. He repeats this mantra over and over again to you, like a prayer.

"I'm s-so sorry, Eddie. I'm so s-sorry." You don't know why you're apologizing and he doesn't question it, only rubbing his hand back and forth on the middle of your back.

"I'm so sorry, Eddie. P-please don't leave, leave me." The sentence is hiccupped through your crying. There's nothing for you to be sorry for, no reason for him to get up and leave you, but you can't help but repeat it over and over again.

Maybe you're apologizing because you hadn't seen him all week. Maybe you're sorry for interrupting his game session with the boys. Maybe you're apologizing to Doug for not being on top of your game at work. Maybe you're apologizing to the barista that made your drink wrong and having her remake it. Maybe you're sorry to yourself for putting up with every single thing and not sticking up for yourself. Maybe you're sorry for putting your body through torture everyday, not giving it the proper care and fuel that it needs to survive.

Every single little thing that's been bothering you is coming out now, the evidence on your boyfriends beloved Metallica shirt. You can feel your body deflate, like a balloon that's seeping out helium.

"Honey, I need you to take one deep breath for me. All I want is one big one, okay? Can you do that for me, love?" Eddie's tone is gentle even though he's demanding something you're not sure you can do.

With whatever strength you have in your body, you nod. With a whispered okay, he instructs you to follow him. His chest expands and then shrinks back down, your head moving with it. On autopilot you follow him, doing exactly what he did.

"There you go, baby. You're doin' such a good job for me."

The thing you once craved is now back within your body, your chest lighter than before. The muscles in your throat aren't tight anymore, allowing airflow back through. In that moment, Eddie's words and comfort is what brings you back down to your body. You can feel the warmth of his touch, his curls tickling your cheek.

Your teeth pulse with a heartbeat and your lips feel like your leg after you sat on it for too long. Everything is coming back to you now and you aren't scared anymore.

The cries that once ricocheted off the walls are now gone, the only thing that's heard is your breathing and small hiccups in between. There isn't a word spoken, not a question asked, just quietness. You push your face a little further into Eddie's chest, seeking refuge in the thing that just pulled you out from your demise.

After what feels like forever, Eddie finally breaks the comfortable silence. "You feelin' okay?" You don't respond verbally, rather nodding your head in response.

He hums, kissing the top of your head so lightly you almost miss it. He sits with you for a little bit longer before urging you up from your spot of comfort. Guiding you to the bathroom, he takes a cold wash cloth to your face, wiping away the stickiness of your tears and the mess of your snot with a light hand.

When you're all clean and your nose is blown, you follow him into the living room, where he sits you down. Turning off his game, he switched the tv to Disney plus to put on your comfort movie. Without another word, he moves into the kitchen where he opens and closes cabinets and the fridge.

Returning to the living room, he takes a seat right next to you, placing a plate with a sandwich on your legs. A cold bottle of water sits in his hand, you watch ringed fingers twist the cap off. Gently, Eddie puts his hands under your chin and lift the bottle to your lips, where you happily accept the cold water.

You eat your pb&j while watching Toy Story, taking a ragged breath every once and a while. When the sandwich is eaten, Eddie takes your plate and places it on the coffee table, and then hands you your water to take another sip.

Wrapping his arm around you, he pulls you into the side of his body, gripping onto you like his life depended on it. You don't mind it either, sinking into him with ease.

"My lovebug, so strong and brave. I'm proud of you." His hand pets the top of your head, pushing any loose hair out of your face.

Everything is right again, falling into place where it should be. Not everything is going to be like this, you remind yourself, nothing is ever bad when you have the love of your life sitting next to you. His scent calming you, the beat of his heart music to your ears, the heat of his skin comforting you.

__

thank you all for reading! love you all :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things #modern!eddie x reader

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Korea drops my favorite cameo ever & gives KISSES

Entirely subjective yadda yadda. Organized sorta by favs in each category.

Sept 2023 Wk 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

I Feel You Linger in the Air (Fri grey) ep 4 of 12 - Well that’s one way to find out if he’s gay, see how he reacts to reading a het sex scene out loud. Yai is flirting so hard it’s like he knows everything. 

Dangerous Romance (Fri YT) ep 4 of 12 - Oh no! I love them. Also cohabitation trope! Also ALL the other ones: hair dry, meet in childhood... GMMTV going no frills with this one.

Hidden Agenda (Sun YT) ep 9 of 12 - Zo’s drama over Pat helping Joke flirt seems awfully manufactured. I’m losing faith in this show. Could GMMTV PLEASE hand JoongDunk a decent script? 

Only Friends (Sat YT) ep 5 of 10 - Sand & Ray are the only interesting couple, and I’m pretty much only watching for them. They gonna go south fast, tho, and they're already ruined by persistent singing. Ooo. When Sand said Top "stole his ex" did he mean Boston? How gay. 

Naughty Babe (Sat YT) ep 2 of 8 - The pronoun conversation had a bonkers translation but I enjoyed the actuality of it. The reasons for Yi's trickery are very convoluted soap opera. But I suppose that is the amnesia trope for you. 

Be Mine Super Star (Mon Viki) ep 10 of 12 - Boys. We discussed this already. No sex in onsens! I found this one dull, until the end when LLS showed up. Happy to just have him in everything. Thank you Thailand. Looks like it is a classic ep 11 DOOM next week. Who cares? 

Venus in the Sky (Tues iQIYI) 1-2 of 10 eps - The usual Thai pulp claptrap this time a reunion romances in and around a convenience store between a boy who recently quit his job and his former bestie who is now a doctor. Mostly not great acting, plot, or production but the sound is okay and no bad effects or singing (so far), so that’s something. The gay brothers have a fun relationship. It’s vampy and campy but fun. I like it but not sure anyone else would.

Love in Translation (Sat iQIYI) ep 4 of 10 - The date was cute but I still don’t like the lead or the premise (we moved into Cyrano de Bergerac territory). It’s moving slowly but it seems like we might be over the crush/stalker part of the narrative, so that’s a relief. 

Crazy Handsome Rich (Sun Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - I just can’t. The sound is too weird. With punch down humor and other issues incoming I may DNF this. You’ve been warned. This ep we got to see LLS with his shirt off. Did anything else happen? 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Jun & Jun (Korea Thur Viki) ep 8fin - No wonder he is everyone’s favorite hyung, boy can read the room like no one else. I love that we got to see exactly how clingy and demanding Choi Jun was always going to be. Only Lee Jun is easy-going enough to put up with him. Also I’ve never watched a KBL with more innuendo. For Korea this was… raunchy. I gotta say had Laws of Attraction not come along, Simon might have been my favorite character of 2023.

Final thoughts on Jun and Jun:

A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. Others boys are sniffing around too. Operative word being "sniffing" as much of this romance involves smell. With a snappy script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching. With tons of rewatch potential (especially the last few eps), my only caution is this is for fans of the BL genre only, I don’t think it’ll work for anyone else. A solid 9/10 from me. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

I like that Korea is trying high heat, but Taiwan and Thailand are leaps and bounds better at it.

Love Class Season 2 (Korea Fri Viki) eps 9-10fin -

Omg they so cute as flirty bf. Eeeeeeee! CAMEO!!!!! My fav guest couple ever! So exciting!!!! I love that they intersected with MY Strongberry couple (Private Lessons). I’m not used to this but Holy innuendo Korea, what with Jun & Jun and now this show? It’s a bit much for my gay little heart. The final episode was entirely unnecessary, but it was fun to see them being all domestic and stuff. Maru with his dumb lettuce leaves was hilarious. I feel like I need to rewatch this one to really understand it properly, so I will likely do that soon.

Summary of Love Class 2:

3 couples form within a semester of university: 1. a hyung romance reunion of exes, one of whom has a dangerous past, 2. a friends to lovers romance, and 3. a mature student and TA one night stand + complexities (many aspects of which had me laughing). I enjoyed the characters and dialogue of this show immensely. It was a little bit more breezy and friendly than I was expecting after the first installment, Love Class. I’m not entirely sure Korea can handle multiple couples like this because it definitely felt disjointed, especially the 3rd more mature couple (also my favorite) who probably should’ve had their own series. But it was definitely fun and something different from Korea. 8/10 RECOMMENDED

Also, Korea tried to give us higher heat... that was... interesting. I mean, you tried hon...?

Kisseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Tues Viki & iQIYI) ep 4 of 13(?) - Everyone is a sad sack this ep. Ooooo. Teach/student my favorite. We never get this one. It’s messy. I’m not sure if there is a plot. I’m not sure they’re sure if there is a plot. But I am still enjoying it.

Why R U? (Korea Wed iQIYI) eps 5-6 of 8 - Why is the Fighter character always so frustrating regardless of name or country? Ji Oh stalking his crush via IG is so relatable. He’s very first crush awkward, unsure, and sweet. They also gave a nice kiss - I love the backpack drop (kiss version of a mic drop?) I still hold that if you haven’t seen the original this might not make much sense. But I am enjoying it. 

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 4 of 8 - Oh goody, another JBL where we have to pay attention solely to what they do and not what they say. 

Minato's Laundromat Season 2 AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry Season 2 (Japan Thu Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - Big fat sigh. 

It's Airing But...

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) ep 3 of 24 eps - I couldn't get hold of it and I'm not mad. I'm putting it on hold until distribution gets sorted, or icky get their shizz in order (like that'll happen).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting

9/15 You Are Mine (Taiwan Gaga) Secretary has to deal with grumpy boss.

9/15 Bump Up Business AKA Bump Up Project (Korea movie) suspected cinema release? I don't know much about what's going on. Last status update. Love story between a trainee who is about to debut and a celebrity from the same agency. Kpop boy group OnlyOneOf has signed up to star in this idol-based BL (based on a webtoon). They’ve been auditioning for this since Libido IMHO. You can watch me chronicle their BL MV series in this post. It’s from Idol Romance who will do sad but can do good kisses (Wish You, Nobleman Ryu, Once Again, Kissable Lips, Poongduck 304, Tasty Florida, Tinted With You).

Still To Come In September

9/26 I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan ????) - Adapted from the manga, childhood best friends: The cool, smart one who’s good at everything, and his average, dorky friend who struggles. Always by the other’s side, but not together in the way they truly want to be. No matter how hard they try, their hearts cannot reach each other.

9/27 Absolute Zero (Thai iQIYI) - from 2021, Studio Wabi Sabi and New Siwaj finally bring us this “time loop to prevent tragedy” romance. We don’t always get HEAs from them, so I'm on my guard.

9/27 Bon Appetit (Korea iQIYI) - from 2022, 8 eps from GoGo Studio, romance between an office worker who lives off junk food and the man next door who cooks well.

9/? Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam YouTube?)

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I love him. And I love his version of this character better than Jimmy's.

I also love it when a show gets meta. (Both Why R U? Korea) Why they didn't just go for YRU? the world may never know.)

(Last week) 

#this week in BL #bl news #BL reviews #korean bl #japanese BL #Taiwanese BL #Thai BL #Rakutan Viki #gagaoolala #GMMTV #Hidden Agenda #JoongDunk #Jun and Jun #Jun & Jun #Jun and Jun review #bl review #Love Class 2 review #Love Class 2 #Korean BL reviews #Why R U? Korea #Why R U?

[manheimsmuse]

Hi Ivory 😊👋

So uhm, I don’t know, can I request something for ben plunkett, fluff please 😊

Maybe with a very shy reader. Well it takes place after the movie, if it's okay. Uhm the reader is at the same university as him and is smart and helped him in the lessons and he adores her because he thinks that she is cute. So he tries to talk to her more and then after some weeks they are getting friends very soon but they fell in love in each other but neither of them knows each other’s feelings.

One day he wanted to kiss the reder but got interrupted to kiss them 3 times. And one time he has finally the opportunity to do it.

So I just realized that I got carried away, I'm so sorry. But I thought it's cute 🙈

Thank you so much 😊

THIRD TIMES A CHARM ; BEN PLUNKETT

a/n ; i love that little dork ben so so much he means the world to me actually

warnings ; afab!reader, fem pronouns, fluff, no smut just cut because i go on too much, not edited or proofread yikes.

world history being an elective confused you, as a history major you couldn’t help but wonder why someone would subject themselves to this class by choice. it was mandatory for you, but there was about ten students from other majors that shared the class with you.

ben plunkett was one of these students, you actually don’t know why he took the elective, you assumed it was just to get extra credits on his degree because there was no way he was enjoying the class. you could tell in the way he zoned out in lectures, or worked on homework for other classes at the back of the room.

you weren’t all that surprised when he came to you for tutoring, your professor posted your grades on the class board to encourage ‘healthy competition’ and your name frequented the top of the list while ben’s floated somewhere along the middle.

tutoring ben was easy, he was smart enough to catch up on his own, that much was clear every time you asked him a question and he answered correctly without hesitation. why he needed the help was beyond you, but you did it anyway, you were enjoying it surprisingly.

the longer the two of you spent together the more obvious it became that you liked each other. you were quiet, not stupid, it didn’t need to be pointed out to you that ben liked you, whether or not he knew how obvious it was was another thing. you weren’t all that discreet either, though you’d never actually tell ben how you felt, unless of course he told you first.

meeting in the library quickly evolved into meeting at coffee shops, his usual ‘hey!’ replaced with a ‘you look really pretty today’ or ‘there’s my good luck charm’. coffee shops then evolved into dorm rooms the closer you got, half studying half just spending time together with the excuse of tutoring to mask any feelings that could slip through.

eventually ben asked you to come over to watch a movie, no mention of textbooks or homework, just you, him and his old macbook thrown on his bed to watch some movie he’d probably seen a million times before.

that was the first time he tried to kiss you.

his arm was lazily draped over your shoulders as you lay back together, eyes focused on the small screen and trying to ignore the way your stomach lurched every time his hand brushed against your arm. he’d leant in when you turned to ask him about the movie, and you were more than willing to let it happen, only for his roommate barging in unannounced to ask about leftover pizza in the kitchen.

the second time was in the library.

this time you were actually studying for a test, it wasn’t one of the big ones, just a mid semester exam to see how everyone was doing with the syllabus so far. usually you sat across from each other, but more recently you would occupy the seat next to ben, just to share a textbook of course.

“you look really pretty right now,” ben mumbles, face close to yours as you both lean over the same textbook, the two of you close enough that your foreheads could touch “oh, god, i didn’t mean to say that out loud. i mean - you do look pretty right now, you always look really pretty but-“

“ben, relax..” you giggle, already feeling the blush creeping across your face as you interrupted his anxious rambling “you look really pretty too.”

there’s a brief silence where you both find yourself leaning in again, only for bens phone to ring out loudly leaving him to scramble to silence the call from his best friend mandy.

the third time was at the campus bar.

your friends had invited you out to celebrate the end of finals, ben’s friend mandy had come up to visit him. instead of blowing one off for the other, ben simply merged the two and brought mandy along to meet the group.

the two of you didn’t get to talk much, between mandy talking his ear off as they caught up and your own conversations with you friends, you were both too preoccupied to fawn over each other.

“hey, come help?”

ben placed his hand on your shoulder to grab your attention as he passed, taking one for the team and offering to grab the next round.

he refused to let you pay for your own drink no matter how much you insisted, the pair of you shamelessly flirting now that you had a moment to yourselves.

it was a horrible sense of deja vu as you both leaned in, getting so close only to be stopped by mandy’s voice calling out to him from the table. something about someone wanting a different drink.

you shut your eyes to hide the eyeroll, missing how ben completely ignored mandy to bring his hand to the back of your neck and pull you into a kiss. an actual kiss.

“finally”

you accidentally mutter aloud when you separate, ignoring the jaw dropped stares coming from your table as you remain in each others personal space.

“you know what they say, third times a charm.”

#manheimsmuse #milo manheim #milo manheim x reader #ben plunkett #prom pact #ben plunkett x reader

[duchess-kyuupid]

Can you do one where the twst boys are walking with Fem!reader to class or something and reader trips but instead of getting up they just lie there contemplating life and acting like everything is falling apart but they as just being dramatic for the hell of it-

Crack and fluff basically lol

It doesn't matter who just whoever you like writing the most! Thank you ❤️

Of course! I'm going to do three characters who I thought would fit the scenario the best <3 Thank you for being my first request dearie!

Ik it says fem!reader, but I didn't use any pronouns or anything so it can be read as gender neutral :)

~ Twst Men with an overdramatic Reader Falling Down~

[Ft. Rook, Idia, and Sebek]

Rook

- In a moment of weakness on your part, you had asked Rook to help tutor you in the basics of etiquette in this world. Namely, you were just curious about the differences between your world and theirs- for example you mentioned once in a passing comment that it was common curtesy to open doors for people, even strangers, if they were going to be coming in after you. You've even done so when you were walking into class with some people behind you, but all that resulted in was weird looks from your classmates. And not even a thank you! And I mean, it's not like you were expecting to get a thank you, but at the very least, those people could try acting a little more polite! You recounted this story to Rook and he laughed, saying that such a courtesy is not only seen as a lowly servant's job, but it's also the fact that everyone at NRC are mages, so most people will just open the door with magic. - Anyway, so that's how you ended up here, receiving a lecture from Rook about etiquette and the importance of being elegant and beautiful- even more than you already are, at least. - You've been here for hours now, and your initial curiosity has basically evaporated into boredom with a strong longing to just go back to Ramshackle and relax. But you knew there was no way you were going to be able to escape, not with a hunter like Rook keeping his eyes on you like a hawk. - "Ah, mon coeur, it appears as though you've stopped listening! Non, non, mon beauté, this simply mustn't do! Why don't we practice something a little bit more engaging? Some dance lessons shall do just fine, allez!" - And then suddenly you were dragged out of your comfy chair as Rook leads you to the middle of the room to start his lesson with you. He's clearly been enjoying this, with the big smile that hasn't left his face since you've walked in. - So, despite how tired you feel, you accept his proposal to dance. I mean, how could you say no to his face which smiles so brightly that it puts even the sun to shame? - But of course, you also didn't really have the heart to tell Rook that you've never danced before- at least not like this. This formal type of dancing, with Rook's hand settled on your waist and gently holding your other as you two sway to the non-existent music- you don't have very much experience with it, not at all. - So it was only natural that you got stuck staring at Rook's face, again not paying attention to the words that he was speaking about how to waltz elegantly. Your body followed his movements and words on instinct, like you were stuck in a trace just so that you could focus on the one thing that was most important right now: him. - Alas, all good things must come to an end. While you were busy shamelessly staring at Rook as he led your dance, you tripped over your feet and landed face first on the floor. ....Why are we here, just to suffer? - You made no movements to get up, if only to hide the embarrassment ridden on your face. - "Rook, I think this is the end for me...Tell my wife I love her," you made a fake coughing noise, "And delete my search history." - God, how did you even get here? Falling to the floor is literally the last thing you want your crush to see you doing, and yet here you were- your only salvation is to joke about it and hope that Rook doesn't think of you any less for your terrible dancing skills. - But as you were wallowing, Rook simply smiles and picks you up off of the floor with a chuckle. You stare at him in surprise at his strength, as he literally just treated you as if you were as light as a stick. -"Oh là, là, mon beauté! Your dancing skills are truly magnifique! Especially for a first time, I must say you glided through the floor like you were the epitome of dance!" He says as he inspects you for any injuries, making sure to dust off and straighten your clothes in the process. "Vraiment élégante! S'il te plaît, mon coeur, dance with me again!" - Honestly, if your face could get any redder, it would. This man is going to kill you one day if you don't get your pounding heart under control.

Idia

- It was one of those rare days in which Idia was forced to go to class in person, and the two of you were literally watching the clock and counting down the time for the lunch bell to ring. - As it so happens, there was a new, special event that was only going to go live for 24 hours, but the gacha pool only had a limited amount of units that were going to be released per server. - If you two didn't hurry, then everyone else was going to snag this thing and you two would be left with nothing! Nothing but crushed hopes and dreams after months of saving specifically for this day. - Of course, Idia lost his chance to get it in class when Professor took his phone and chewed him out for using it during his lecture, and you didn't have the game downloaded on your phone yet (you really only played it when you were hanging out with Idia in his dorm room, after all). But you were both determined to get it. - When the clock strikes 12, the two of you were going to bolt out of there and make a break for his dorm room to hopefully make it in time. Idia would have to get his phone back later, right now the surest bet would be at his dorm, where he keeps several different computers so that you can try to get the thing too. - 11:58.....11:59.... 12:00!!! - The bell rings and the race to his room begins! - Alas, neither of you could really straight up run there, because if you got stopped by a hall monitor or a teacher, then that would be the end. So you two decided that the best way to go about it was to speed-walk there. - Oh, but you had almost forgotten about how enormously tall Idia is. His version of a "speed-walk" is basically your sprinting pace. You'd never notice because most of the time he's slouching, but this man stands at (183 cm/6'), and his legs are just so ridiculously long that you couldn't help but to fall behind simply because you weren't running. - And Idia notices this too, so in an attempt to help you, he decides to pinch at a loose piece of your clothing (this was already going out of his comfort zone, so don't expect him to just outright initiate physical contact without asking) and drag you forward to meet his pace. - Unfortunately, he failed to think his plan entirely through, as his grip on your clothes were not very tight and you were not expecting to be dragged like that. To make matters worse, the halls were also getting crowded as people were making their way to the cafeteria. - Long story short, Idia lost his grip, and you tripped over, getting lost within the crowd of people at the same time. Idia stops to look behind him in surprise to see you getting swallowed into the mob with a terror-stricken face. - "Go, Idia! This is your chance!" you cry out with fake tears escaping your eyes, "You're gonna have to leave me behind, but don't worry, I'll catch up with you. I won't die here...." You give him a tearful thumbs up as the surrounding students calmly walk around you. - He salutes you with tears in his own eyes, "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten." And he turns around to start full-on sprinting towards his destination. - And you stay there on the floor for another second before chuckling when you come to a certain realization: - "I have now both literally and figuratively fallen for him now, haven't I?"

Sebek

- Sebek, being the gentleman that he is, has decided to walk you back to Ramshackle after learning about Malleus' fondness towards the human who calls him 'Hornton.' - Of course, this has become a regular occurrence for the two of you now. Sebek still walks with you under the guise of making sure that you're not a threat to Malleus, but that's only because he doesn't know how to admit that he's become fond of you too. - The two of you were joking around, generally enjoying each other's company on your walk back home, when all of a sudden you find yourself falling to the ground. - You honestly have no idea what had happened to get you here, but what you do know is that following the few seconds after, Sebek is already yelling at the top of his lungs and interrogating the surrounding students who were unlucky enough to have seen you fall over. - "YOU! DID YOU TRIP THEM ON PURPOSE?" - So you just stayed on the floor, pitying the poor people he began to yell at for basically no reason as you began debating with yourself on the purpose of life. - For the most part though, you were just waiting to see how long it would take Sebek to stop for a moment to realize that you were still on the floor. - Ironically enough, it was when he started interrogating some other people when the ones who he just chewed out came over to you to ask if you were alright and if you needed help standing back up. - "WHAT ARE YOU DOING SO CLOSE TO THEM?? BACK AWAY THIS INSTANT, HUMAN!" Sebek yells (when is he not yelling?), this time actually scaring off the people he was just accusing of tripping you. - "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" - "No, I think I must've broken my back falling for you." - "I'LL TAKE YOU TO THE INFIRMARY THIS INSTANT, AND THE ONES WHO DID THIS WILL NOT GET OFF LIGHTLY!" and just like that, your pick-up line is ignored as Sebek picks you up and begins to run over to the infirmary. Literally the only thing that you could think of now is the fact that, even if you weren't joking and you had actually broken your back, Sebek would probably have made it worse because this is definitely not the correct way to carry someone who's broken their back. In fact, you think, I don't think you're even supposed to pick them up in the first place. - Well, you wanted to tell Sebek that you were fine, that you were just messing with him when you said that. But at the same time, you kinda liked the feeling of having Sebek carrying you like this. It was rather comfy. - "Sebek, I have a first aid kit at Ramshackle that has some things that could help. It's closer than the infirmary, so let's just go there," you say, adjusting yourself so that you were more comfortable leaning against him. - He looks down at you and notices your peaceful-looking face- a face that does not say "help me I've just broken my back and I am in immense pain," and he finally takes a moment to think back on what you said earlier when he asked if you were alright. - With a dramatic gasp, his face flushes pink as he realizes what you had actually meant to say, and in his surprise, he accidentally lets you go too. - "Hey! Was that really necessary?" you pout as you fall to the ground, again, for the second time today. You look up from the ground to see his flustered face and you catch on that he finally figured out what you told him earlier. - "Sorry! You just caught me by surprise," Sebek states, his voice sounding quite meek in comparison to how it was earlier. - "You're going to have to make it up to me for dropping me like that, you know," you say, standing up and dusting yourself off lightly, "And my price is that you carry me back the rest of the way. That's the only way to make things even." - With a flushed face, Sebek nods and picks you up again, this time he became much more aware of how close he was holding you, but he noticed that, strangely enough, he didn't have any problems with it.

Just thinking about how many seagulls it would take to drown out the sound of Sebek's voice lol I'm thinking around 78, honestly

~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for being a little late with your ask! I was hoping to post this for Valentine's day but then work and college decided to drag me through the mud for a bit </3 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

#sebek #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst x reader #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #rook #rook x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #idia #idia x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #duchess kyuupid #Kyuupid's asks

[multi-fandomsfreak]

Just had a random idea that might be funny, Amy with a female exe reader that took her form. I think it'd be funny to have them start dating and all of Amy's friends being confused as hell as to her dating what kinda looks to be herself.

Amy Rose Dating An EXE!Reader

Hey there thanks for the ask!

Honestly I like that idea. Just imagine dating an existential being who just so happens to be a look-alike of you. Anyways hope you enjoy reading this.~J/Blaze

Pronouns: She/Her

Warning: ❌

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Amy + Sonic + Tails + Knuckles

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by Sapphire_Art_ on Twitter + Banner by narahverde on Pinterest

———————————

- It was definitely a surprise for Amy when she first met you. She managed to stumble upon you just by chance she didn’t mean to. Seeing someone with her looks sort of at first kind of weird her out I mean if you were to see someone who just so happened to look like a demonic version of you you’d be freaked out as well, right? But at the same time she’s oddly flattered that you chose her out of everyone but still slightly weirded out. She didn’t want to get into any trouble from you so she just decided to leave you alone and prayed that you won’t do anything to bother you. Luckily for her you wouldn’t but after seeing the actual Amy who you based your form off of you couldn’t help but grew curious towards her. What was she like? Oddly enough even though you didn’t know why you wanted to get close with. So without much thought you eventually found her and decided to attempt to have a somewhat conversation with her.

- At first she was slightly panicky wondering what you were doing here but once you managed to calm her down then explained yourself about why you were here and just wanted to get to know her she managed to calm down and decide to at least hear you out. Surprisingly she actually enjoyed hanging out with you, she was interested in getting to know about your existence and powers. Now getting to know you a bit more she honestly didn’t mind that you just so happened to be a somewhat look-alike of her. She was more than happy to accept you for who you were, no matter what you were or what you do.

- After developing a friendship with you she pretty much treats you like all her other friends. She treats you with respect and is often very happy to see you come visit her. Sometimes she finds the simplest things to do just so she could have an excuse to go visit you, even if it means she’ll have to change plans with sonic and the others. In return you made a vow to protect her with your life. If you found someone being rude to her you immediately went into defense mode and personally made sure they would learn a lesson. Maybe it may cost them their life depending on how ‘kind’ you were feeling. But you made sure to keep those things away from her to not make her worried about what people say. But sometimes she does become aware of what people say about her but you reassure her that they don’t mean what they said and they are clearly idiots who don’t know what they are talking about.

- Due to yours and her close relationships she eventually developed a crush on you. With you protecting her and making sure she’s alright she couldn’t help it. But she wasn’t sure if you would accept her feelings due to the difference between the two of you. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t expressed them mostly towards the others. Once they’ve heard her having a crush on someone else (especially sonic) they thought they were hearing things at first. Amy has a crush on someone who wasn’t sonic? Even Sonic himself was surprised but if Amy was happy then they were as well. They did try to ask her for information about you and she was more than happy to tell them. Once hearing what you looked like they just assumed that you just so happened to be a pink hedgehog just like her.

- Eventually though Amy couldn’t keep her crush for you a secret and decided to risk it and ask you to be her girlfriend to which you accepted. Making her shed a slight tear out of happiness and hugging you all giddily. She was more than happy that you accepted her feelings she never thought any would accept her feelings.

- Expect her to be really clingy towards you. I can imagine her love language being a combination of physical touch, quality time and gift giving. She’s a very affectionate person regardless if she’s with friends or a lover. She likes giving gifts to people ranging from items to food.

- She really wants you to meet her other friends Sonic, Tails and Knuckles since she’s already said so much about you to them. At first you were slightly hesitant but eventually you agreed being unable to say no to her so with your permission she gathered the other three so they could meet you.

+ As soon as she heard the three of them at her door she happily ran towards the door and opened it with a smile on her face “hey you three glad you can make it” she said “Don’t worry about it Ames we’re just really excited to meet her” Sonic slight chuckled to himself “yeah especially since for once you aren’t going after sonic” knuckles jokingly said before receiving a slightly above whisper from tails telling knuckles off before Amy waved off what knuckles had said standing to the side to let the other three in to which they did. Amy then went off to go and get you so you could meet them creating a slight tension as they asked questions between them like what your name was? What were you like? Things like that, however as soon as Amy returned with you a slight confusion yet surprised expression formed on their faces. “This is my girlfriend [Name], they’re a bit quiet so please be patient around her.” Amy said wrapping and arm around yours as you introduced yourself to the others. Honestly they were surprised when they saw you, they were somewhat surprised because you seemed to be a nearly identical look-alike of Amy but they didn’t want to say anything about it so they just gave you a smile as they introduced themselves to you.

- Out of the three of them ironically enough I can imagine you being the closest with Sonic. Since he’s pretty much used to having Amy chasing him all the time he’s now got to get used to actually being left alone by her. I like to think that due to her constant affiliation with him he knows what she likes or not so if you're struggling to figure out what to give her Sonic can tell you. You still are somewhat close to the other two but mostly sonic.

———————————

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic series #sonic series x reader #sonic #sonic x reader #amy rose #amy rose x reader #amy the hedgehog #amy the hedgehog x reader #amy rose the hedgehog #amy rose the hedgehog x reader #sonic.exe #x reader #request

[roses-dreams-andthorns]

Idk if this can be considered a request:

Epel, Rook, Jamil and Idia (quite an interesting line of characters) with an s/o that has incredible strength especially in her legs. Her legs are so powerful, one kick is all it takes to knock someone out. The best part? She's the same height as Ortho.

oooh! short but strong legs!

F!Reader (bc she/her pronouns were used in the request, but you/your is used in the writing so anyone can interact)

aaaaaaa Trey has so much stuff going on so sorry if Trey doesnt do your request, I'll be clearing out my drafts and requests after this but REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN! If you really wanted your request done if you requested perviously, you can request it again if you'd like! terribly sorry!

Epel

He had never expected that'd you'd be so strong with your legs, considering your height. Your height is similar to his, and he's a little powerhouse himself, so you're the perfect duo. You two do really well in fights, no matter how much people you're against, you're always on top.

When he had first witnessed your strength, it was when you had kicked a guy right in the face, and knocked him out instantly just from the one kick. He was fascinated! If you can do it in heels as well, he'll be very confused on how you keep your balance. You had kicked a guy in the downstairs once as well... long story short, that guy suffered that pain for about a month.

"Reader! Can you help me train to be as strong as you?"

"Hmm... Sure! But be ready for a lot of stretching and excercises!"

Rook

Oh dear... how strong your legs are... he is quite impressed, "impressionnant!"

He first witnessed it through one of his stalking sessions. while spying on you, you had kicked some guy in the face, sending him flying across campus at lightning speeds like he was a baseball and your leg was the bat. He knew it was best not to mess with you, but he still continued his stalking of you, because how could he not? you are just so intresting! You could probably beat his ass and he'd thank you.

(I'm sorry Trey had no ideas for this one...)

Jamil

...yikes... but also holy sevens you're attractive while you're beating someone mercilessly in the face with your legs and feet, he's a mix of scared and in love, constantly teetering between the two emotions as he watches you teach this random guy a lesson more harsh than Vargas' 100 laps everyday in P.E. class after this guy had tried to hit on you despite how many times you said "go away" and pushed the guy, at this point in time he was completely passed out and covered in bruises, and Jamil just stood there all flabberghasted and frightened like it was the most horrifying thing he'd seen since he'd watched that horror movie last week. He's at such a complete loss for words because he's now afraid that if he says one wrong thing, he gets a foot to the face.

Idia

Omg you're like that anime character!!!!!!!!!11!!!!1!!

He fanboys over it so much because you remind him of some anime or game character, he sometimes even asks you to cosplay the character as he holds a cosplay of them in your exact size in his arms hoping you say yes, and he gives you puppy eyes, but other than that, he's kinda scared of you? Not too, too scared but scared in a sense he knows you could possibly kill him with one swing of your leg like it was meant to be a murder weapon. Other than that, he's pretty chill... besides the fact he's shaking in his boots whenever he talks to you because he feels like if he makes one wrong move or says one wrong thing the next moment he'll be passed out on the ground with you looming over his unconcious body menacingly like how a bird looms over its unsuspecting prey before swooping down and snatching it.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #epel felmier x reader #epel felmier #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper

[the-catboy-minyan]

•._~°• WELCOME •°~_.•

Shalom, come in, enjoy your stay, and please kiss the Meow-zuzah on your way in~

✨ Quick Introduction: ✨

you can call me Noam, I'm a queer Mizrahi/Ashkenazi Jew who was born and raised in Israel🇮🇱.

my pronouns are whatever the fuck you want to use for me ✨

my agab is a mystery oooo~ (stop assuming I'm afab lmao, you think you're hurting me by assuming I have tits? I love tits)

I'm not a historian and I have no obligation to educate you. I'm a guy with a blog, that's it. I don't make "educational" posts, only reblog posts I agree with and am confident enough in their validity. I'm not uneducated, but I'm not good at teaching. go harass someone else's inbox.

I'm a (former) activist for Palestinian rights in real life, I stopped being an activist for Pikuach Nefesh reasons, but my beliefs haven't changed. I still believe in Palestinian rights and a two state solution.

btw blogging is not activism lmao.

✡️ Am Yisrael Chai ✡️

🟦 Stop Jewish Hate 🟦

🎗️ Bring Them Home Now 🎗️

השמאלני המסריח שהזהירו אתכם ממנו

דיזינגוף מחזיקים את המשכורת הצבאית שלי בשבי 🥺

זין על ביבי, זין על חמאס, זין על צהל, סמוטריץ' ובן גביר תזדיינו (ביחד (love wins))

❗Regarding Zionism:❗

I talked about my interpretations and beliefs of Zionism multiple times and they're very complicated, but tldr I'm a non-zionist, I agree with some points of liberal(?) zionism and I'm very much anti Netanyahu and anti Likud.

DNI lists are literally useless but like DNI if your first instinct when seeing a potentially zionist Jew is to send death threats, or if your first response to seeing a potentially pro palestinian Jew is to send death threats, please and thank you :)

disclaimer for the millionth time: this is an anonymous vent blog. it's not a news source and it's not activism. if I make a claim without an attached source it's based on personal experience or my memory, so take it with a grain of salt. don't come to me for a history lesson. please correct me if I'm wrong, but do so politely.

#pinned post #catboys your jumblr

[i2sunric]

Hi lovely!! 🩷 I was wondering if it was possible for me to request a Hanbin smut, specifically where he throat fucks reader maybe? Thank you! 🩷🩷 And, I love your works by the way!!! 🩷

mayday — s.hanbin

wc: 0.8k

reader: afab or amab, didn’t specify (no pronouns used)

warnings: MINORS DNI (explicit smut); blowjob, slight subby hanbin??, throat fuck, i’m an economics students so are u in this smut lmaoo

summary: your tutor hanbin gets needy during a lesson and you decide to help him out by letting him fuck your throat 😁

here u go anon <33 and thank you 🩷

you and hanbin had met up at the usual cozy cafe to go on with your tutoring lessons, despite economics being your major, you weren’t exactly the best at it and needed help studying some topics.

fortunately, one of your high school friends was very good at this subject and could help you anytime.

“i really don’t understand when to use this formula.” you whined, leaning back on the chair and slightly throwing your pen on the table. hanbin, who was patiently waiting for you to finish the exercise, raised his head with a kind smile

“i’ll explain again.” he looked over at your paper and tapped with the pen what he was referring to “it’s different if your client owns you interests by year, months or days, if it’s years then you use this for the denominator, if it’s months this and if days this one.”

you blankly stared at him, “okay, but how the hell do i even calculate days? it’s so hard, i give up.” you sighed, rolling your eyes

“try again, i can reassure you, you can do it.” you clicked your tongue and got back to work.

you tried, deleted and scrabbled the paper a little but it seemed as if you actually did it by the end. you happily clapped and showed the paper to hanbin “here, look!”

though, hanbin didn’t hear you. he was looking at a random place, his grip on the pen tightened.

“hanbin?” you titled your head in confusion, “binnie?” you asked again, receiving no reply. you snapped a finger in front of him, waking him up from his trance state “o-oh.”

“y/n, i really need to go the bathroom. i’ll check it after i come back.” he hurriedly got up from the sit and went to the bathroom, he thought he was sneaky enough to not let you notice the growing thing inside his pants, but your eyes were quicker.

you smirked, waited a few seconds before getting up from the chair as well and followed him.

you heard a grown in the bathroom, smiling you opened the door - that he forgot to lock - and entered the room.

hanbin was looking at you with a shocked and embarrassed expression, his hands were on his pants since he was unlocking his belt.

“i think you’ve got a problem.” you pointed at the bulge, hanbin raised an eyebrow, realising where you wanted to go “a big problem.”

“mind to help me?” he let go of his belt and got closer to you, you excitedly nodded, already getting on your knees and unzipping his black jeans.

you removed his length from his underwear and stroked it, hanbin collected your hair inside his hands by way of a ponytail, preventing it from bothering you.

he let out a shaky breath when you smooched the tip of his cock, stroking it with one hand “i don’t have much patience when it comes to this.” he confessed, pulling your head closer

you smirked and swallowed the whole length, using your hand to cover where your mouth didn’t reach. your tongue swirled his cock, teasing everywhere with its wrinkly texture.

he pulled his head back and whined “stop teasing y/n…” you could feel him pulling your head, trying to use you

you put your other hand on his waist, trying to support yourself when you started bouncing your head back and forth, he moaned.

his hips started thrusting and followed your pace, until you finally stopped moving, letting him take the control and use you as much as he pleased and needed.

“oh yeah, just like that.” he moaned in whisper, after all you two were still in a cafe, his thrusts became more and more violent, his dick kept hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little. he didn’t seem to care, too focused on trying to get rid of the problem fast.

your nails slipped inside his skin, leaving marks on hanbin’s skin, your other hands went on his balls, you squeezed them slightly, making him whimper

“gonna cum y/n.” he said, his breath getting more and more irregular and his thrusts rougher until he gave one big and deep last thrust, cumming inside of your mouth.

you swallowed his whole seed, greedily, not even leaving a single drop. hanbin made you stand up by pulling you from your chin and looked straight inside your eyes, with lust and yearning “if this was a subject, you’d surely get full marks.”

#zb1 smut #sung hanbin smut #zb1 hard hours #sung hanbin hard hours #zb1 hard thoughts #hanbin smut #hanbin smuts #sung hanbin smuts

[frescoisnotinthemilitary]

Not sure if this is how I send you asks but could you do a König x male baker reader? Like a fluff story? Like at some point Konig realizes he's in love with the sweet baker? If not that's fine too 🫶🏾🫶🏾 please?

Sweet Tooth

König x Male!Baker!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and König being clueless about his feelings (Tags apply differently. Jokes about suicide, meant to be read with a light heart)

Pronouns for reader: you, he/him, reader is implied male

A/N: I really appreciate this opportunity to write for a character I haven't really written for or considered writing for in the past. I’ve also never written for a male reader before, so thanks so much for this ask! I’m also a firm believer that König drinks an unhealthy amount of hot chocolate. We’re talking 4+ cups on a normal day. I was given the idea and it kind of spiraled. He’s also shy and very pookie-coded here, I think.  Let me know if any of the German is wrong, I relied heavily on Google Translate for this. Also if I missed anything. I’ve read this so many times that the words are melting together and I just needed to post it. Sorry this took so long, I’ve been sick and it’s kicked my ass.

It was a bit of a shock, the first time he walked into the bakery. At almost seven feet tall, how could he not be a shock? 

Ding. The soft tinkle of the bell above the door alerts you to the presence of the morning’s first customer. You glance up, and the smile drops from your face, then immediately reappears. 

“Good morning! Take your time with the menu, and let me know when you’re ready to order.” Your voice cuts through the silence. “I’m going to go take some muffins from the oven, but I'll be back soon. Let me know when you're ready, alright?”

“Ja.” A man’s deep rumble sounded from under his dark veil. You notice his head tip back up toward the chalkboard menu as you slip through the swinging doors to the kitchen. 

When you return, holding a tray of still-warm muffins, he looks to you. “Bitte, ah, please, may I order?”

“Mhm,” you hum in response, your chest buzzing with the vibrato. “What would you like?” The air is filled for a moment with the quiet sound of each muffin tapping onto the glass display plate. 

“May I have a- a blueberry scone, and a medium, ah, large, hot chocolate, please?” He asks. You notice him picking at his gloves and shrinking down as if trying to appear smaller than he is. 

Maybe he’s shy. The thought makes you smile inwardly. “Yup. I’ll get those for you. Sorry for the wait, it’s just me this morning.” 

“Die Stille [hush], it is- do not worry. It is no problem.” 

Oh my god, he really is shy. 

“For here, or to go?” 

“To go. Danke.”

Several minutes later, you raise a hand in a slight wave as he leaves, paper bag and steaming cup clutched in one gargantuan mitt. “Have a good day.”

“Ja. You as well,” he replies. 

It becomes routine, after a while. At first, it was about once a week. Then, it was a few times. Now, Monday through Saturday, he’s the first customer in the bakery, often causing the bell to ring as soon as you flip the sign. 

It’s a typical Tuesday morning, about a month after he started coming in. You’ve already opened the door, he’s received his usual order, and you’re curious. “What’s your name?” You ask, the urge to inquire obscuring any boundaries you might cross. 

He considers lying for a moment, but you’ve been kinder than most. Always assisting him whenever you could, treating him like a human, not like an apathetic war machine. 

“König,” he answers. 

“König,” you repeat. “Isn’t that German for ‘king’? Are you German?” You can’t keep the questions in. They fall from your lips before you recognize that what you’ve asked is invasive. He’s a customer. He’s here to get cocoa and a scone, not be bombarded by questions he might not even want to answer. 

But the man seems unfazed. “Ja, it is German. However, I am from Austria, not Germany.” 

Thank god for those Duolingo lessons, you think. 

“Oh. I’m sorry for all the questions so suddenly, but what do you do for work? Do you work around here?” The embarrassment you felt at the barrage of questions leaving your lips ebbs, and you feel more comfortable asking them now. 

“Ah, well,” he hesitated. “I am a Marine. I am a colonel. I work on the KorTac base, just outside of the city.” He checked his watch, then looked back up to you. “I’m sorry. I have to go, now. It was good speaking with you. Ah, goodbye.” 

It seems rushed, but you think little of it. He’s just shy. 

“Oh, yeah. Of course. See you tomorrow.” 

“Ja, I will be here.”

Tomorrow comes and goes. As does the next day. And the next, and so on. You don’t ask any more questions, as he seemed to leave hastily the last time. 

But he wishes you would. Why did I not ask one of him? I want to know more about the man, the little voice in the back of his head tells him. 

Weeks pass. He returns again. And you’re feeling brave.  

“König?” Your voice accompanies the sound of the paper bag as he grabs the top. “Would you, uh…” You trail off. 

“Would I what, der Nachtisch [sweets, dessert]?” 

“Would…” You had a hard time getting the words out. Your palms begin to sweat against the counter, and everything seems to be amplified tenfold. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?” You blurt. 

König is silent for a moment. Then, “Dinner?”

“Uh- yeah. With me.” You wish you could see under the veil, as he doesn’t answer. It seems like hours before König’s head tilts back upward to you. 

A small smile grows on his face, not that you can see it. He finally speaks, and his voice is soft. “Ja. I would like that, very much. Thank you.”

He doesn’t understand why his neck feels hot. His ears. His cheeks. His face is on fire and he doesn’t know why. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. He didn’t reject me. He wants to go to dinner. 

Shit. He wants to go to dinner.

“Cool, cool. What, uh, what kind of food do you like?” You ask casually, as if talking about the weather. As if you hadn’t just asked Colonel Colossus to grab a whole ass meal with you. 

He thinks for a moment before responding. “I quite enjoy anything. I am in favor of the foods of my Austrian background, though I am sure you are much more accustomed to those of your home. The choice is yours, mein Täubchen [my dove].” 

“Uh, well, it’s not Austrian, but there’s a little German restaurant a few blocks from here.”

Why did he ask me to choose? “If that’s okay.” 

König smiles, though his glowing cheeks remain obscured by the veil. “That sounds perfect, Mein Schatz [my dear].”

Your face lights up. “Great. When are you free?”

#könig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig call of duty #Cod #König fluff #König x reader fluff #Honestly I think I killed this one #Shot dead #I’m cooked my friends #It’s 22:39 and I genuinely want to put a Glock in my mouth #Who said thaaaat #⚠️ ⚠️ IT WAS A JOKE I PROMISE #I will not commit anything except my life in service to my beautiful country (translates to: I don’t own a Glock) #goodnight my pookies #I might be on later if I can’t sleep #My tummy hurts #könig x you #König x male!reader #König x baker!reader

[roseaesynstylae]

I like to think of One Piece boys trying to be allies to women and LGBTQIA+ people.

Sanji: Likes to see women smiling, in that he wants to make them smile and doesn't ask them to. Is trying to unlearn his beliefs about women.

Zoro: "I do not care if you are a women. I do not care if you are trans or gay. I will fight you."

Usopp: Has made it a point to never interrupt a woman or not take her seriously. Makes an exception for the first in life-threatening situations, though.

Brook: Has stopped asking for to see women's panties. Has instead started asking their opinions on music.

Jinbei: If you catcall, slut-shame, or victim-blame, he will politely ask if the woman/women in question want to handle it herself/themselves. If they don't, he will teach the person in question a lesson in respect.

Franky: If he can run around in a speedo and receive little to no sexual comments, women should be able to do the same. He is trying to spread this view.

Luffy: Has little to no idea why people treat women and LQBTQIA+ people differently. Will happily beat up anyone if they start being weird.

Law: "I treat everyone equally. That is to say, I have no qualms dismembering, snarking at, or killing them. I don't discriminate."

Kid: Equal-opportunity murderer.

Killer: If a man gropes a woman is front of him, he gropes the man and sees how he likes it. Then he beats the guy's ass (often fatally). He may be homicidal, but he has standards.

Bege: "If Pez is gay, or figures out that he's actually a girl, that's fine. I'll be happy with a son-in-law or a daughter."

Ace: Is happy to be eye-candy. Thinks that it's only fair.

Kaido: Doesn't misgender people. He has a son, thank you very much, and as badly as he treats Yamato, he will hurt anyone who uses the wrong pronouns.

Izou: "Misgender my sister and I'll fucking kill you."

Katakuri: Put down his sisters and die. Misgender his siblings and die. Imply that there's anything wrong with their orientation and die.

Rocinante: Firmly believes that virginity is a social construct and that women being identified by their relationship to men is the stupidest thing imaginable. (I headcanon him as being just an ally [or, to put it more accurately, a guy who has basic decency] in general.)

#one piece #sanji #roronoa zoro #usopp #brook #jinbei #franky #monkey d luffy #trafalgar law #eustass kid #killer one piece #capone bege #portgas d ace #kaido #one piece izou #charlotte katakuri #donquixote rosinante

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

Hi, there 🌼! :D

I saw your recent event of Songs from the heart! So I want to take the opportunity to place my order (I hope I do it right):

Fandom: Twst

Character: Silver and Deuce (normal no Yanderes)

Type: Romantic, fluff (or just fluff I leave it to your preference)

Song: Meteor Shower bye Cavetown

Reader: Female but neutral it's okay 👍

Take your time and no pressure, thank you 💐🌠✨

.·:🎼¨༺ Songs from the heart ༻¨🎼:·. | Meteor Shower

Characters: Silver and Deuce

Song: Meteor Shower by Cavetown

Warnings: None

A/U: Self aware Twisted wonderland AU

a/n: I only do male or gender neutral reader so reader is gender neutral, but pronouns aren't used (only you/your)

DEUCE SPADE

Deuce was very happy that you picked him for his lessons, wanting to level up his various cards. He noticed a habit you had, however, listening to music while you played the game. It put a smile on his face as he heard you humming the tune. The lessons would mostly go over Deuce’s head because he was more focused on the song you were playing. He couldn’t help but blush deeply as he felt that this song was directed at him. 

“I'd sell my own bones for sapphire stones. 'Cause blue is your favourite colour”

That one lyric did something to his heartstrings. Deuce’s eyes were gleaming, deep in his heart and his mind he hoped that you directed that at him. Sure, his favorite color might not have been blue, but it seemingly meant that you would do anything to make him smile. The god over Twisted Wonderland wanted to make him happy. He started to kick his legs under the desk, feeling an overwhelming feeling of joy. This meant you loved him, even if it was a little bit.

Deuce was trying too hard to conceptualize your feelings, reading a bit too much into the song. All his thoughts were trying to rationalize that one lyric. His eyes were spinning to represent what was going on inside him. He felt his heart beat even faster the more his mind was stuck on that one song lyric. Nothing around him, except you, could pull him out of his lovesick spiraling mind. 

It took him a while to stop the swarming ideas and focus back on you. Deuce just stared at you as you were exiting the lessons. He wished you stayed a little longer, even if he was on your main screen, so he could tell you his thoughts. Deuce’s lips curled into a huge smile, one that kind of hurt his cheeks. He pledged to himself after the last lesson ended, as a compromise, bringing a hand to his heart.

“I’ll try my best to make you happy too, oh great creator!”

SILVER

Silver was very prideful the moment you picked one of his cards to use for the exams. It meant that he got to fight for you, and he was used to fighting for others. He is a knight in training, after all, so could you really blame him for wanting to be your knight? During the exams, there were times where your team got close to losing, but only because you kept getting distracted by the music you were listening too. Silver had heard the music, but this one song, along with one particular lyric, had caught his attention.

“But don't go outside, it's dangerous tonight. Without me right here by your side”

Silver paused in the middle of his attack, which wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t help it. That one lyric caught him off guard. And it came out of your lips as you sang along. It must have meant something. A sign from you, the overseeing creator of this world, as you looked at him.

Silver tried his best not to worry too much about it, focusing so much on the fight. But that lyric buzzed around in his head, over and over again. It was on repeat, as if it were a mantra or a holy prayer to you. He wondered if you would say this to anyone else, or if it was just reserved to him. Silver tried to keep his composure and keep his focus on his attacks on the battle.

As the final exam finished up, he felt proud he won all five of them, but also feeling so prideful about that one lyric. It didn’t leave Silver’s mind as he stared at you through the victory screen. He saw your bright smile, further confirming that the lyric you muttered was directed at him. Silver had so much love and joy in his heart as you closed the victory screen. He still watched you on the main screen, hoping you heard his promise. 

“I will protect you too, and I’m honored you wish to protect me.”

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

#🪸.mermaid time #🎼.song from the heart | 200 followers event #twisted wonderland #twst #self aware twisted wonderland au #self aware twst au #twisted wonderland x gn reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #twst x male reader #twst x gn reader #twst x reader #self aware twisted wonderland x reader #self aware twisted wonderland x gn reader #self aware twisted wonderland x male reader #twst silver #silver #twisted wonderland silver #deuce spade #twst deuce #twisted wonderland deuce #silver x male reader #silver x reader #silver x gn reader #deuce spade x gn reader #deuce spade x male reader #deuce spade x reader #self aware deuce #self aware silver

[wing-ed-thing]

Deidara x Reader x Sasori Love Triangle Headcanons

Tags: No Reader Pronouns, Language

𓆃 Unfortunately, not too dissimilar to just being in a regular three-man, but having to work with them all the time would be far worse than having to see them occasionally during Akatsuki gatherings.

𓆃 They're both showy in their own ways, which ends up meaning that they're in a constant pissing match and more focused on their respective creative projects than... actually wooing you.

𓆃 Actually, a constant, obnoxious and self-centered display is exactly what "wooing you" entails.

𓆃 Deidara believes that his art is the very best and should be admired, which means he will use any excuse to show off to you— including no excuse at all!

𓆃 He constantly blows operations and makes a mess of any rendezvous location because of his constant bids for attention.

𓆃 If you're not on his squad, any time he sees you, he's immediately making a beeline to you to bother you. Having saved up all his pent-up energy and talking points, he thinks that today is the day to convince you of his craft!

𓆃 He'll ask if you like his art, how much, and what about it do you like. Deidara is all for shooting his shot, telling you straight-up what he thinks of you and the style of relationship he wants (yikes).

𓆃 But he forgets that you are also a piece of this equation, making himself an obnoxious show off.

𓆃 Deidara can have his genuine moments, but they have to come when no one else is around (no one else to show off to). It surprises you how different of a person he can become.

𓆃 Sitting just the two of you talking about something that's not him, you'll find that he's surprisingly articulate and smart. He remembers every single thing you tell him (you know, when you can get a word in edge-wise).

𓆃 But the moment Sasori is around, Deidara transitions back into frat-douche mode.

𓆃 Sasori is also a show off, but much more subtle than Deidara and a lot more mean.

𓆃 He will not be denied and will grow passive-aggressive if you don't pick up on the fact that he's trying to show you things.

𓆃 He almost tries to get you involved(?) in the sense that he'll try to show you different crafting techniques. Sasori loves explaining things to you, even at inappropriate times.

𓆃 And if you're not in the mood for a lesson or aren't paying attention like he'd like, he gets fussy.

𓆃 For someone not on his team, he'll try to bond with you over crafting techniques. No matter what your style is, he'll reach for anything that could be remotely stretched into "crafting" before taking the conversation over to show you the new spring lock mechanism he recently put into his latest puppet.

𓆃 And of course, when the two of them are together, it's suddenly not about you at all.

𓆃 Well, it is, but you've found yourself stuck in the middle of their constant feuding because if you choose one of them, it's symbolic of whose art is superior... of course.

𓆃 Sasori is at least helpful. He makes a good partner in battle even if you aren't used to working together. He can at least maintain a respectable professionalism about him, and if he happens to bring up a topic that you don't mind engaging with, talks with him can be surprisingly pleasant.

𓆃 But, uh, they might end up killing you or each other by the time anything reaches a conclusion.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Three-Man Squad Headcanons with Deidara and Sasori

#deidara x reader #sasori x reader #naruto x reader #akatsuki x reader #naruto #deidara #akatsuki #sasori #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #akatsuki headcanons #x reader #x you #naruto x y/n #reader insert #naruto x you

[bp-zb1fics]

Something cute with Zhang Hao where the reader became close with one of the boys (Jiwoong maybe?) and he's jealous because poor boy has the biggest crush on reader :( with a cute lil confession? 🥰

A real kiss~

pairing: jealous zhang hao x long time friend reader ft. jiwoong as the cause of drama (jk)

pronouns: none used

genre: canon au, fluff, humour

tw/tags: introvert things, nicknames, jealousy lol, jiwoong giving hands-on acting lessons (maybe a lil too hands-on for hao but he’s just being nice y’all), woong best wingman (yes he can sense the tension), kdrama mention, flashback, kissing, confessions

wc: 1175

summary: maybe hao’s a teeny little bit jelly of how well you get along with jiwoong. 

a/n if any of you saw this earlier than scheduled, it's because tumblr hates me and likes to confuse me constantly~ anyways thanks for the req anon, this was really cute and i enjoyed writing it very much, a little content note: xiào xiào is a nickname used for kids who are like happy or smiley but hao calls mc that bc they make hao happy shdsd ok if any better mandarin speaker would like to correct me or suggest another nickname, just lmk~

check my pinned for more fics!

Zhang Hao likes to think he’s a fairly laid back person.

Or at least, that’s what he likes to think when you’ve been deep in conversation with Jiwoong for the past hour and not spending time with the person who actually invited you over (him).

Okay maybe he isn’t being fair. You’ve also, over the past hour, checked in on him and tried your best to involve him in your conversation. It’s just that Hao is an introvert and today is one of the days where he doesn’t feel like making it a three way conversation. Also they’ve mostly worked it out but he and Jiwoong still have their awkward moments so there’s that too.

“You alright Hào hào?” Well at least he can enjoy the fact you’re using the nickname that only you call him. (Because absolutely no one else is allowed to call him that ever).

“I’m fine, Xiào xiào.”

You had joined Yuehua around the same time, Zhang Hao as an idol trainee while you were preparing to go into acting. To say you were close would be an understatement. You clicked immediately, the other Yuehua trainees would joke that you were Hao’s co-parent with how often you would come over to their dorm with food. 

Hao spent every free day he had off the program with you if both of you weren’t busy. Sometimes you’d even accompany him to visit his subway ads, obviously sporting a mask and hat and keeping it lowkey so as not to draw attention to yourself. While you’ve been an extra or had a line or two for a few drama gigs, you haven’t exactly made your public debut just yet.

It just so happened that you’d be working with Jiwoong on your first minor supporting role in The Good Bad Mother, alongside your actor sunbaenim in Yuehua who had the starring role. The eldest hyung also happened to have quite a bit of experience in acting and you happened to have questions. While your company sunbaenims and teachers were helpful, they were also quite busy and you didn’t want to bother them too much.

“So for kissing scenes-”

Suddenly, Hao’s full attention is on you as you ask his bandmate how one goes about filming such scenes. He’s not dumb. Hao knows once you start getting bigger roles, you might do scenes like that. But dammit, he wants to be your first kiss, not some actor who’s playing your love interest.

“You’ve never been kissed before?”

It’s one of those moments where you’re too tired from the hours and hours of PR training, Hao preparing for Boys Planet and you for the eventual conferences and public appearance you’ll make once you make your acting debut. 

“It’s not that.” You sink into the sofa of the little room you’ve been in for hours, learning how to avoid getting a bad edit on camera. 

“It’s just that none of them really meant anything, you know? It was for fun, for a dare or some shit like that. To figure out whether I liked boys or girls or both. I just don’t think it’s a real kiss, you know?”

“What’s a real kiss then?”

You’re quiet for a bit and Hao’s about to move on with the conversation when you speak again.

“With someone I like. I’d be nice to kiss someone I like. Someone who likes me too.”

I like you, Hao thinks. I’d like to kiss you. 

He could do it. He could offer. But he’s shy and your friendship is only a few months old and he’s going to get shipped off to this Mnet program soon. So instead he says:

“That sounds nice. I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“Maybe because you’re the type to go around kissing everyone, Mr. Campus prince.”

You tease.

“Hey! I wasn’t like that at all.”

Hao protests. You grin mischievously and your conversation devolves back to light, playful back and forth.

But Hao doesn’t forget.

Maybe that’s the day that he decides to try and become the someone you like.

Jiwoong’s hands are on your shoulders. Zhang Hao’s not sure when that happened but he does know that he doesn’t like it.

“So my hands should go here?” You ask, patting Jiwoong's rib cage. He nods, expression completely placid and wholly focused on teaching you how to manoeuvre yourself.

“You can also put it on their waist, the director will be giving you instructions and you can monitor yourself on camera between takes as well.”

You nod thoughtfully, tentatively placing your hands on him. Zhang Hao’s fingers twitch, just a little. Most of the members who had been filtering in and out of the room seemed to have disappeared. It’s just him, you, and Jiwoong.

Which is why you decide to lean in, your face just about a few inches away from the eldest ZB1 member.

“So I just go like this?”

That’s it. Hao’s had enough. He can’t do this. He can’t watch you anymore.

“Xiào xiào?” 

Hao’s careful not to show how happy he is when you pull away from Jiwoong and look at him. His hyung must have sensed it anyway, standing up and saying he’s supposed to meet Seobin soon. You thank him for the help, he says you can text him anytime (Hao’s not sure how to feel about that one) and then he leaves the two of you alone.

“There goes my acting teacher.” You pout a little and Hao can’t help himself.

“You came here to spend time with me, not take lessons from Jiwoong-hyung.” 

“Awww, is Hào hào jealous?”

“I miss you.” He says instead of answering, hugging your side like he usually does.

You hug him back, and in a small voice, you admit.

“I’ve missed you too, Hào hào.”

There shouldn’t be anything special about the moment. You’ve done this before, hugged like this before, said things like this before. But this time, he just-

Hao pulls away, his arms still wrapped around you loosely. It’s just enough so he can see your eyes, looking at him, he can’t read you too well, he swears his heart’s beating so loudly that you can hear it. But you don’t pull away. He leans in.

His lips are soft against yours, you can feel the slightly sticky sensation of the lip balm he uses, taste a little of the tea he was drinking a while ago. It’s warm and nice and it feels perfect.

His arms slide to your waist and your fingers circle around his shoulders, holding onto the fuzzy knit fabric of his cardigan. You can smell the perfumed lotion he uses, pleasantly floral and addicting. He keeps kissing you. You keep kissing back.

Hao only stops when his heart feels like it’s going to give out, catching his breath and looking at you with your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He can’t help but ask.

“Was that a real kiss?” I like you so, so much.

“I think it was, Hào hào.” I like you too.

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