#// whole (he/him) ✒️

[the-moon-cycle]

i hate when the voices tell me to give in to my long suppressed queer romantic desires smh 😒

- ✒️

[moon-cycle-reblogging]

hello, whole here to say that i officially have a separate acc for reblogging now, bc my main was becoming cluttered

so yeah 👍

[weepingchronicles]

Can I request a yandere viktor before he becomes the herald of machines and since after his transformation the love for the reader still exists, maybe it has even become a little dark

of course! thank you for your request. i am not a league fan although i watch arcane– so some of this may be a bit off.

❝yandere!viktor x gn! reader❞

🔩.𖥔 ݁ ˖✒️ Viktor falls in love fast, almost too quickly without even knowing someone's name yet although he does not fall in love very often. Or at all. But when he does it gets intense very quickly.

🔩.𖥔 ݁ ˖✒️ He is almost inclined to dismiss you. You're just someone else. You don't understand his work and he doesn't want to risk any bystanders getting their stupid selves in the way.

🔩.𖥔 ݁ ˖✒️ But something changes one day, it could be something small like discovering a common interest between you two or a kind gesture. Anything can get this boy hooked. Or perhaps it was something bigger. It took you actually getting hurt to realize his care for you. You weren't just another cog in the machines, you were a whole mechanism.

🔩.𖥔 ݁ ˖✒️ After that Viktor tried his best to ignore you. He didn't want you getting hurt anymore because of him. His intentions are often good but he doesn't realize that his actions could be more harm than help.

🔩.𖥔 ݁ ˖✒️ And so he pushes you away to isolate himself, believing he is protecting you.

🔩.𖥔 ݁ ˖✒️ After he becomes herald of machines his love for you has not only heightened but has become worse. He pushed you away thinking he was doing something good, no, no. That was all wrong. Now he sees he has the power to fix you too, fix everyone. He is going to save everyone.

🔩.𖥔 ݁ ˖✒️ Depending on the reader, he definitely is going to bring you with him to his glorious evolution. You can try to run and fight him off but he will never really stop. You are the centerpiece of his entire plan, he wants you most of all by him, forever.

🔩.𖥔 ݁ ˖✒️ One side of him also hates you, he hates his tragically human love for you that he will do anything in his mind that will get rid of it. You just dying won't do, the only thing that will satisfy him is having you with him forever.

[starseungs]

to love you like the snow melts. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — if seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring.

GENRE/S — fluff, maybe kinda emotional (or is that just me), slight college au mentioned in passing, he fell first trope • 1.1k words

WARNING/S — nothing really unless you're not into lovesick pining, story told in seungmin's pov, slightly unedited cz idk

( ✒️ ) happy seungmin day !! i think i dissociated while writing this fic cause man... i barely remember shit 😭 i originally had a plan going into writing this but it just got thrown out the window by my brain apparently (also this fic is inspired by one of the results in this quiz cause i loved the prompt i got so much) this fic is a bit short but i hope yall like it <3

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Seungmin’s eyes love to rest on you. 

That was an undoubtable fact in his life—one that he, himself, doesn’t even know how it started. Yet, the acknowledgement of this unknown didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it was a source of comfort for him; a way of reminding himself of the joy in living. To Seungmin, one thing was for certain: He was given the gift of sight to experience you in your entire beauty.

He first met you in a university lecture, where you simply happened to frequent the seat just a row behind and two chairs away from where he usually sat. Perhaps he was enamored from the very beginning. It was like his gaze would always find a way back to you whenever you were in his immediate vicinity, reminiscent of a magnet longing to cling to metal.

That was also the way he took in your presence as a whole. Seungmin was a man starved for knowledge, desperately clawing for anything he could get to broaden his desired expertise that was you. He particularly loved the way your eyes drooped whenever the lecture of the day bore you, as well as your tendency to make origami on available paper during the times you could care less to listen. The latter always ended up with you blinking endearingly after a successful craft, glancing around the people near you to figure out who to present it to.

Oh, how he wished he had been over there instead, happily receiving a paper star to keep. However, it was your friends that surrounded you on a daily, barely giving you time to be alone. And maybe you didn’t want to be alone—another thing about you that he’d like to discover the truth to. But he thought that until the day he somehow found himself stumbling into your life, he’d have to be grateful to your friends for making you shine the way you deserved every step of the way.

So, imagine his surprise when he finally got the chance to make a mark in the vast expanse of your world.

The opportunity came in the form of a group project with you; the catalyst in which his whole life began to change. Friendly introductions of obligation quickly turned into incessant strings of conversation, bringing the two of you closer. The sheer pace of the development was overwhelming. Seungmin never thought his presence bore enough weight for gravity to grab him by the neck and lock him in the system of the star that was you. 

It was a trip and a half, consisting of countless miles to lap around with seemingly no end. So much, that he feared falling out of your grace—to be like a passing asteroid who foolishly dreamt of becoming a planet. Seungmin was endlessly yearning to solidify his place in your world, just like he always wanted. And still, despite that all, he didn’t show it. He merely laughed when you laughed, stayed silent when you needed silence, and experienced anger on your behalf when you couldn’t show it for yourself. 

Because Kim Seungmin knew that you needed to be loved patiently.

Even throughout the tightrope of uncertainty he walked months on like his life depended on it, he never once made it seem like he was waiting on a move from you. If Seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring. 

Seungmin knew that even with the shows of your cheery demeanor, your heart still remained frosted over from your previous winters. That even when your fingers danced their way to intertwine with his, there was still that moment of hesitation. He was forever thankful that you caught him from falling when he did, refusing to let him disappear into the abyss. Yet, who was lighting up the skies of which you lay under to stare at each day?

He longed to give you a love that was true. One where he showed you how warmth creeped in with small trickles of heat, giving you enough time to decide whether you truly wanted it or not. Love that was considerate in the way that it willingly warned you of its presence, but in a way that cupped your cheeks and sang you lullabies. To love you gently as to not sully your shoes with messy, muddy soil of the ground peeking out from beneath the snow. 

To Seungmin, there was no greater gift than being able to be the sign of your spring.

“Baby?” You called out to him softly, a flash of concern twinkling behind your gaze. “Is anything wrong?”

Seungmin feels like he was just coaxed out of a trance, previously being too occupied studying the details of you at the moment, as if he hadn’t already spent the past hour doing just that. A string of golden celebration banners made its presence known in the corner of his eye, briefly acknowledging the once-a-year greeting printed on them. The slight smell of smoke fully brought him back to his senses, finally glancing down towards the cake with a small lit-up candle you were presenting him.

Right. It was his birthday today.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No,” he replies truthfully. “Everything is perfect.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, having trouble making sense of the situation. Seungmin has half a mind to think if you would forgive him if he tried to straighten it out with his thumbs as a tease.

“But, you’re not blowing out your candles,” you purse your lips in contemplation. He feels an unstoppable force creeping up to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. Did you even know just how much he loves you?

“I was just enjoying the view, that’s all.”

Your demeanor visibly brightens up. “Is the cake that pretty?” Was your smug question, clearly feeling proud of yourself. “I worked hard on that, you know?” 

Seungmin only smiles. Like he always does whenever it concerns you. That warm boyish grin he had paired with a certain fond look in his eyes that his friends never failed to point out just to fluster him into oblivion. But he lets them anyway. There was no way he could ever deny the truth of how strongly he felt for you.

“I know.” 

Because he always does. 

And as he leaned forward to feel the last heat of the flickering candle before it went out, he couldn’t help but think that the snow had finally melted. His wish had already come true.

“Happy birthday, Seungmin!”

Spring has come.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme @yaniiiiism

[bookie-bookdust]

Secret For One ✒️

One should always carefully examine the labels of the items they are, ahem, borrowing. -or- In which using some anti-cheating ink accidentally reveals to the entire seventh year class what you and Seb were up to before your Herbology exam (kissing – the answer is kissing).

(This was my first ever HL one shot when I forced my introverted ass to actually post something. I can't believe how much time has passed - this was 11/2023. I didn't know a single person in the fandom and had been lurking since the game released. And now I'm here, more insane than ever😊) Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x You/Reader Word Count: ~4400 Rating: Teen Read it below the cut, or at ao3/wp: (MASTERLIST)

It wasn’t uncommon to use the Undercroft for studying especially after curfew.

You had a nasty Herbology exam bright and early tomorrow. It was meant to be a mere pathetic taste of the N.E.W.T at the end of the school year, and your notes were beginning to look like runes.

You rubbed your eyes until little lights danced in your vision. “Ominis had the right idea going to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“Don’t let him hear that,” Seb murmured, peering up at you from his textbook.

“What? You think all the other times we’ve forced him into premature graying wasn’t proof enough he’s usually right?”

“No. I don’t think so.” He grinned.

Ominis had excused himself hours ago, in a sour mood after receiving a letter from everyone’s favorite dark aristocratic family, the Gaunts. It’d left you and Seb to the candles as they slowly dripped down to nubs. They at least helped with the coldness of the space, and you always managed to sneak in one spiced candle so the Undercroft smelled of cinnamon. Ominis had given one hard warning not to set the place in flames before storming out.

“These Mandrake illustrations are beginning to look like caricatures of Prewett.” You sighed, slamming your textbook shut. “What time is it?”

“Late enough to hallucinate Leander Prewett.” Seb tipped back in his chair, smirking at you with tired eyes.

In the candlelight, the hazel glowed almost black. His brown curls were ruffled, his collar askew, and tie undone. The smallest sliver of chest showed as he absentmindedly fiddled with his top button. You swear you spotted the same freckles there that splattered his cheeks.

Merlin, how did he always look so good? You’d been asking that question for the last two years, and you still hadn’t found an answer.

You poked at the fraying edge of your textbook, biting your lip. “We should probably head to bed. Last time we pulled an all-nighter we almost went to the wrong classroom.”

“Sharp loved that,” he scoffed. “Do you know after class he casted a sobriety spell on me?”

“No,” you gasped, sitting up. “You never told me that.”

“He really thought I’d be drinking fire whiskey at 8 in the morning. It still baffles me. I would love to know if he had the instinct to check me because of a prior experience.”

“Do you think Sharp used to be a bad boy?” You cackled at the thought.

“Trying to sneak a look at feminine ankles dangling from their stools in potions? Of course.”

“Ankles.” You snorted, remembering Weasley’s lecture she’d prepared earlier in the year on the proper rules for society witches now that they were seventh years. The ordeal had left you fending off fantasies of a certain freckled Slytherin with a penchant for dark magic. You’d avoided him for two whole days before you could calm your blushing cheeks.

“How many times have you seen my ankles?” you asked.

Sebastian flashed you a hilarious face, half amusement, half absurdity. “Why, I believe they’re burned into my retinas. Though so is you blasting some witch who only knew the levitation charm off a cliff.”

“I wonder what would make Weasley faint first.”

“Ankles,” he said matter of factly, nudging yours gently from under the table.

You kicked him back, and he caught your leg, squeezing your skin with his burning hand before letting it drop.

Damn, damn, damn. Your ankle tingled all the way up. Why did he have to go around doing things like that and expect you not to fall right out of your seat?

“Alright. Enough about ankles. Let’s get going.” You forced yourself to focus on stacking your notes and books and not on that little sliver of his shirt that seemed to open more each second.

You grabbed your quill, hesitating on the ink you’d “borrowed” from one of the supply closets in the DADA tower. You should probably return it. Tomorrow after the exam. Then you’d take another trip to Hogsmeade to update your ink stores.

Maybe you could make a trip out of it. Invite Poppy along with Seb and Ominis. It’d been your own personal project trying to get Ominis and Poppy to speak more after you’d caught them blushing in Muggle Studies about Muggle matrimony traditions. Maybe Seb would help. He enjoyed torturing Ominis.

“Have you noticed how—”

Seb yelped, a crash making you spill your notes on the floor. You nearly dropped the ink pot, saving it in seconds.

He’d tipped too far back in his chair and now lay flat on his back. Eyes wide in surprise, he started laughing.

“Are you okay?” You rushed over to him.

“Maybe you’re right. We need to get to bed.”

You offered a hand, and he awkwardly unfolded his legs from beneath the chair. “Thank—”

You stepped forward—right on your notes. The floor disappeared beneath you. You toppled over him, the ink spilling across both of you.

“Dammit, I am so sorry,” you cursed.

Merlin, Seb radiated heat like a furnace, and your arm was somehow caught behind his back and…Get off him! You forced yourself up on your knees.

“It’s alright. No major injuries.” He insisted. “Just some ink.”

 “Let me…” You scrubbed at his shirt, smearing it worse. “There’s surely some stain removal spell. Do you have another school shirt in the meantime?”

He grabbed your wrists, stilling your panicking hands you just now realized you’d been rubbing all over his chest and stomach. “I own more than one shirt.” He laughed. “It’s alright.”

You straightened. “Right. Of course you do.” Your attention fixed on your hands, stained black. “Well, let’s get this cleaned up before Ominis has a conniption.”

You moved to stand when his fingers tightened on your wrists.

“What—” Your mouth snapped shut.

You two were close. Very close. Mere inches apart, one of his legs at your side caging you in, his other tucked under him. You leaned forward on your knees so you naturally tipped forward.

Seb stared at you, and you stared back. The freckles dotting his cheeks and nose seemed darker, the candlelight flickering in his eyes. You fixated on the small scar at his upper full lip from fifth year. He’d earned that one from one of the Ashwinder camps.

The last time you’d been this close, he’d fallen asleep, head plopping in your lap when you’d been rained out in a cave last year. You’d been forced to sit on your hands to stop from stroking his stupid hair.

But this time he was awake, and his eyes studied you in that way he studied everything. As if you were a dark book he still hadn’t cracked. A forbidden spell he needed to cast. A secret he wanted all the power himself to wield. Had he always looked at you like that? Surely not. You couldn’t remember. You couldn’t think at all right now as the heat of his body rolled over you.

He tugged you closer, and your chest thudded against his, your heart screaming in your chest.

“I, uh,” you stuttered, licking your lips, and it made his eyes flick down to your mouth.

“You have ink on your chin,” he murmured.

You blinked, barely processing his words before his lips met yours. You sat motionless at first, two different sections of your brain warring; one in denial that this wasn’t another one of your embarrassing dreams, the other, screaming to kiss him back.

He released your wrists, moving to your hair. The sensation spread goosebumps down your arms, and your eyes drifted shut.

You responded instantly, mouth opening to him, hands prying at that stupid little crevice of skin between his buttons.

He jumped. “Your hands are cold,” he murmured against your lips.

“Sorry.” You pulled away.

“Come back,” he frowned. He grabbed your hands, pulling them deeper into his shirt as he fumbled with the buttons.

You gasped at his smooth warm skin, leaning forward before you could stop yourself, planting a kiss at the base of his neck. You’d never been so obsessed with freckles. The constellations of them running along his chest. You’d trace them if you hadn’t dumped the rest of the ink already.

“Fuck,” he groaned, digging into your hair again to pull your face back up to his. His fingers teased the hem of your shirt, and you pressed closer, your legs going to either side as you straddled him.

He slipped under your shirt, his hands burning as they traced up your back. You moaned into his mouth, shivering even if the Undercroft was suddenly scalding.

More. In the dreams this kept going, and you found your hands working automatically to yank his shirt over his head.

Merlin, forgive me. He kissed down your neck, teeth meeting the corner of your jaw and—

A slam of metal made you jump apart. The high squeals of Peeves laughing from somewhere above you in the DADA tower echoed through the Undercroft.

Your breaths calmed, and the two of you locked eyes for a long, silent moment.

“You have ink on your chin now.” You cleared your throat, smoothing your hair down. It’d been pulled straight from its pins, and you could not care less for the first time in your life. You were sitting in Sebastian Sallow’s lap, a mess, in the middle of the night. His mouth was looking well-loved, his skin unbearably soft, and you did everything not to tackle him to the ground.

You kissed. Kissed. More than kissed, really. After pining for years, you’d somehow ended up snogging half asleep in the Undercroft. What did this mean for the two of you now?

Seb wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “All that ankle talk really got to me.”

You shoved his face away, laughing. He grabbed you by the waist, yanking you down with him so you pressed against him. You brushed his curls from his eyes, and Merlin they truly were as soft as they looked. What conditioner was he using?

“I have nothing clever to say for once,” he murmured, studying your face. His eyes were calm, reverent in the candle glow. How a devil looked angelic was beyond you. For once you could openly gawk at him, and it wasn’t considered ill-mannered.

“Nothing at all?” you gasped. “I’m shocked.”

“Alert the Prophet, I know.” He rolled his eyes. “I always thought this would happen in the Undercroft, but for a while there I was banking on a damp old cave in the highlands.”

You sat up. “Wait. You’ve wanted this?”

He leaned on his elbows, eyebrow raised. “Is that so hard to believe? I didn’t do that for scientific discovery just now.”

You swallowed hard, unable to look at him suddenly as you thought of Weasley’s lecture. A witch should seek a courtship. Any premarital acts are frowned upon even in wizarding society. While they’re not as strict as Muggle tradition, there are certain rules that should be followed.

Woops. That was out the window.

But what would your classmates think if you strolled into class holding hands? Could you deal with the teasing? The watchful eyes?

“Let’s not tell anyone about this,” you blurted out.

He blinked, contemplating for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Sure. That would be for the best. Wouldn’t be able to sneak around the castle anymore with people paying closer attention.”

He had a point.

“Let’s clean up the mess. Ominis will faint if we leave inky fingerprints all over the place.”

A quick cleaning charm did the trick as if this had never happened. Seb’s steady kiss was the only proof convincing you this wasn’t another one of your horny dreams.

Would you have to tell him about those? Absolutely not.

You sat, tucked against each other, talking well into the night.

***

You shifted, and your neck protested with a sharp ache.

“Ugh,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

Where were you, and why did it feel like you’d been sleeping in the corridor?

You surveyed your surroundings, taking in rows of melted candles, pillars, and the triptych.

The Undercroft.

Something shifted beside you, tickling your cheek. Sebastian Sallow nuzzled into your shoulder, his shirt still askew.

You squinted at the clock.

The herbology exam.

“Wake up!” you shouted, stumbling to your feet as Seb jolted awake with a yelp.

“The exam! We fell asleep.” You fought on your boots, your tie, tossing Seb his uniform robe. “Hurry!”

He blinked, dazedly, following your instructions without question before the last of his sleepy fog left his brain.

“Oh shit.” He flung a stream of curses, fixing your tie and smoothing your hair as you tripped out of the Undercroft and into the DADA tower.

The two of you rushed to class, nearly taking out a Hufflepuff Prefect who threatened detention behind you. You would have laughed if it were different circumstances.

“Go!” You shoved Seb. He grabbed your hand, dragging you behind him as you stumbled down the steps to the atrium and through the greenhouse.

You caught yourself as you entered the classroom, straightening your robes and sweater, and taking a moment to calm your heavy breathing. Your classmates glanced at you with brief interest before returning to quizzing each other.

Gone were your typical pots and supplies, and each stool held a roll of parchment and a feathered quill and ink pot.

“Good luck,” Sebastian murmured. His hand grazed yours for mere seconds, but you might as well had misfired an incendio spell how it licked your body in heat. You itched at your cheek, hoping no one noticed you blushing.

“Good morning, my lovely pupils.” Professor Garlick swooped in from behind you, pinching your cheek before ruffling Garreth’s hair. She floated across the greenhouse to her podium.

It was too much energy for this time of morning, and it made you think once again of the constant whisperings of what plants Professor Garlick sampled to make her so pleasant all the time. Whoever cracked that secret would make a fortune.

“You will find twenty questions before you, and you will have the remainder of the class to complete the exam. Please answer in complete sentences; at least two paragraphs for each section. Once you are finished, you may exit the greenhouse. Do not wait for your friends in the atrium. The plants will tell me. You may begin.”

She snapped her fingers, and the scrolls unfurled.

It was a grueling hour.  You swore half of the content hadn’t even been addressed in your readings, and you felt your heart sink with each question you left a strike beside to go back and review. This would not end well.

You were in the fictional portion of your exam—which meant completely pulling nonsense out of thin air and acting as if it made sense. Some students had finished—Ominis of course with a haughty smirk—but not many even with little time left in class.

“Excuse me,” Garlick’s voice rang through the quiet. “Why do you keep looking at your sleeve, Mr. Prewett?”

The scratching of quills stilled.

“I’m sorry, Professor.” Prewett tugged his sleeves down over his wrists. “There was a…beetle. It was distracting me moving about on the table.”

“Hmm.” Garlick tapped her chin. “I’d love to give the benefit of the doubt, but revelio.” She swished her wand, and you felt a zap along your hands. It wasn’t like ancient magic, no. Not at all. This was worse. Much worse.

“I’m sorry, Leander. The ink doesn’t lie. You have notes written on your arm.”

But Leander’s pleading was drowned out by a fit of gasps and giggles.

You gaped at the ink staining your fingers and palms, your clothes. Obvious handprints molded at your waist and chest, and you tugged your robes closed. They were the same marks from last night you’d spelled away. Your gaze snapped to Sebastian. He wore the matching stains on his own hands, up his neck, his chin, even at the corner of his mouth.

Oh Merlin. Oh no oh no oh no.

You stood abruptly, your chair crashing behind you as you desperately scrubbed at the ink. You grabbed the ink pot, the same you’d taken from the supply closet, reading the label as an anti-cheating variety.

How could you be so stupid?

There was no mistaking the stains. Anyone daft could guess you’d…

“Partaking in some extracurriculars, you two?” Garreth giggled, and you would have hexed him if you weren’t busy shielding yourself.

You’d been through harrowing, life threatening events. Ranrok, dark wizards, a goblin war, inferi, abduction, even death, but none had ever made you feel like this. As if you’d forgotten to put pants on this morning and stood at the head of the Great Hall singing off key.

Seb let his head dip toward the ceiling as he sighed, scrubbing his face. It gave a better view of all the marks on his neck. “By Salazar…”

“Class dismissed. We will deal with your essays later.” Professor Garlick raised her voice over the chatter, casting another spell as the parchments snapped closed, the chairs dumping the students from their seats.

“Mr. Prewett, I will detail your punishment in my office in one hour. You two, with me.”

Seb met your eyes, fighting his sheepish grin that you refused to return (and failed) as the corners of your mouth twisted upward.

And you’d been giggling over ankles. This? This would be the scandal of the year.

Garlick magicked two chairs beside each other and directed the two of you to have a seat. Seb sat closer than expected, his knee brushing your leg. He nudged your ankle with his boot, and you resisted the urge to kick him.

“Well, you weren’t cheating. I suppose that’s a positive.” Professor Garlick glanced over the ink splotches before casting a different spell to clean them. You’d have to remember that one. “Anti-cheating ink. Very helpful for tests. Especially big ones like the N.E.W.T.s. Professor Sharp warned me about your sticky fingers.” She cast you a sharply raised eyebrow with a smile. “But I thought Aesop was just being Aesop.”

Seb shot you a knowing look, and this time you did kick him. You’d had this conversation many times before. You’d developed the—hobby, as you liked to call it—of taking loose items. Even if they were loose behind locked doors and chests. If no one was going to claim them, why let it all go to waste? You’d only been caught a handful of times, but it saved you supplies, galleons, wardrobe items…it wasn’t hurting anyone. Except your own reputation now, it seemed.

“You’re lucky it was me and not Professor Weasley. She would have dragged you both to the Ministry for a marriage certificate.”

Seb choked, and you sank in your chair.

Why? Whyyy? You wished you could kick her too. Instead, you blushed, mortified, unable to even stomach sneaking a peak at Seb’s face.

“Oh, look at you two!” She clapped her hands together. “You both light up as red as tomatoes when you blush. Can you imagine the squishy bright cheeks your children would have?”

“Professor!” you hissed, sinking further in your seat. At this point you’d be under the table soon.

“Yes, yes, I suppose that’s enough, isn’t it? You’ll be dealing with the teasing enough from your peers. I will have to deduct ten points from your houses for theft and disruption of class. Now off you go. A whole exam scrapped.”

You stormed ahead, but Seb kept up with you easily. He looked rather cheerful for being caught, and you groaned.

“I am so sorry.”

He laughed. “Was all of this a ruse to take me off the market?” He smirked, eyes glittering as he tugged at your tie. You tugged his back harder, and he banged into you, having to catch you both from smacking into a Venomous Tentacula.

“No! I lost my last pot of ink, and I’d spotted some in a supply closet and thought I’d borrow it until I could get to Hogsmeade.” You sighed. “I didn’t think to read the label.”

“A kleptomaniac, if I’ve ever seen one.” He winked. Why was he being so calm about this? Were all boys the same? One good snog, and you could hex them and they’d still be grinning like fools.

You exited the greenhouse, and a crowd waited in the atrium. You nearly turned on your heel back into the classroom when the onslaught of howls and whistles greeted you.

“About time! When’s the Save the Date being sent out?” Garreth called, and Natty shooshed him.

“I better be invited.” Natty nudged you as you passed, and you shot her a withering stare. She shrugged with a grin.

“We will never hear the end of this.” You squeezed through the crowd.

“Not unless Hobhouse does something stupid again,” Seb murmured too close to your ear, and you jumped when his hand found yours. Did he like this attention? You’d thought it was a mutual agreement to keep this quiet, yet he basked in the teasing, playing along as you stared red faced and dumbfounded with no witty comebacks. So much for being clever.

Ominis appeared at the back of the crowd, the tip of his wand a red beacon, the guiding grace out of the masses.

“Thank goodness, Ominis.”

“Undercroft. Now,” he whispered, and you and Seb followed helplessly behind him.

***

“I’m speechless.” Ominis paced, and Seb caught your eye with a smirk. You heard those same words almost weekly, yet Ominis always found something to say regardless.

“Ominis—” Seb began.

“Shush!” Ominis pointed his wand at the two of you. His face was twisted in a scowl, striking against his carved features. “Traceable ink! Snogging when gossip of courting is at an all-time high. And in the Undercroft of all places!” He sniffed. “Desecrating a place like this. The audacity. This is a safe place. Are you two mad? Do you know what you’ve done to her reputation, Sebastian?”

“The Hero of Hogwarts? Troll hunter? War ender? That reputation?” He pinched your side.

You shoved him aside. “We were going to keep it a secret.”

“Oh please. The two of you would have been caught snogging in a broom closet by the end of the week. You’re about as subtle as Peeves.”

You chucked a pillow at him, which wasn’t fair as it hit him square in the face. Ominis cast a hex in the wrong direction. It bounced off a vase, and you dodged the rebound.

“He’s not wrong,” Seb murmured.

“Honestly, the two of you,” you huffed, exasperated. “I am an adult. I can make my own decisions, thank you very much.”

“What are you two going to decide now then, hm? The entire castle will know by noon that the two of you had your actual fingerprints all over each other.”

“Keep up appearances, I suppose.” Seb slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close and planting a kiss on your cheek. Your heart nearly leapt through your throat.

“You’re being very calm about all of this, Sebastian. Are you sure you didn’t plan this?” Ominis asked.

“How could I?” He shot you a charming smile. “You think I’d really dump her remaining ink, knowing her klepto tendencies that she’d carelessly steal an anti-cheating ink pot without reading the label? Distracting her so she’d spill it over the two of us and then make my move so we’d be revealed to the class?”

You blinked back at him, dumbfounded. “When you word it like that…”

“I’ve had enough of you two.” Ominis grimaced. “I’m leaving. Do not expect any damage control from me on this one. You two can solve it for yourselves. Professor Weasley will be on you faster than a starving hound. Hope you’re prepared with an excuse.”

“Love you too, Omi,” Seb called after him.

Ominis waved his hand dismissively, muttering under his breath.

You said nothing else until you heard the gate closed.

“So how long would you like to wait before we make appearances again?” Seb asked. “Skip classes for the day? We can go to Hogsmeade. Or the Forbidden Forest. Your choice.”

You ripped from his hold, searching the Undercroft.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for my last ink pot.” You shoved some books out of the way, checking beneath cushions, behind the triptych, but there was no sign of it. “That speech of yours was a little too detailed.”

“You really think I spent all that time setting this up?” he laughed, drifting to your side.

When you ignored him, he stopped you in your tracks, turning you to face him. “Not even a revealing charm? I’m insulted.”

“Good idea.” You cast revelio, but no ink pots appeared.

“You’re delightful when you’re delusional.” He took your face in his hands, thumbs tracing your cheeks. “Is it really so bad the whole school knows I like you?”

You paused, a silly smile spreading across your face. “You like me?”

He tilted his head, grinning. “I thought that was obvious at this point, Love.”

You searched his face for some sort of joke or trick, but at his earnest eyes you relented. “Damn you, Sallow.” He laughed at that, pressing his lips to yours. “I guess it isn’t the worst thing that everyone knows. I just wish it wasn’t in such an embarrassing way. At least all these witches know now if I catch them ogling you again, I’ll hex them into an early graduation.”

“Ogling me? Who?” He raised an eyebrow with a wicked glint in his eye.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, now I have to know.”

“Absolutely not!”

You broke away from him, and he chased after you between the pillars until you tripped over the victimized pillow you’d hurled at Ominis. Seb met you halfway, and you found yourself pressed against him, kissing him as if you’d been doing this for the last two years.

What you didn’t know was behind the tallest stacked crates near the Undercroft entrance, some splattered ink stained the inside of a dusty old vase.

[000-sips]

kicking my feet rn omg... i need movies of all of these!!!

tropes i'd give to boynextdoor + their theme songs

it's my first time writing here on tumblr so i hope u like it! reading experience would be better if ypu try to listen to the songs! enjoy <3

sungho - strangers to friends to lovers

- song: get you by daniel caesar

𓍯 it all started from the cliché 'i was dozing off and was too sleepy after school i slept on his shoulder without my knowledge.' he smiled to himself once you got off of the bus because he thinks you were too cute.

𓍯 you started running to each other often ever since you take short walks by the park every afternoon, and sungho walks his dog there as well. (he saw you once walking and he started doing the same so he could see you everyday)

𓍯 "can i pet your dog? what's his name?" you slouched to pet the corgi you thought was cute. "sungho." "pardon?" you chuckled. "ah-i mean sochi."

𓍯 you started being friends with him when you offered to walk his dog one day. luckily, sungho lives across the street in the same neighborhood.

𓍯 walks with his pet turned into walks with sungho himself where you would find yourselves eating at a restaurant for dinner. sungho would offer to walk you back home just so he could spend more time with you even though your house is just five minutes away from his.

𓍯 sungho has always liked you from the beginning. you liked him when you two were walking late at night and he was yapping nonstop about his hobbies, favorites, and of course he would also ask about your interests. you realized he's so nice to also talk about you and he wasn't that narcissistic guy who just talks about himself. "what about you, do you like this too? i didn't think you'd like that...oh! i felt like you were into these kind of things!"

𓍯 you never found out you two have met before at the bus until you asked sungho his first impression of you.

𓍯 "ms. y/n..have you ever dated before?" he dropped a random question on a normal day where you'd walk with him and sochi. "uh..i haven't...?" it was kind of embarrassing for you that you've never dated before. "then would you be fine with dating a guy like me?" he stops walking and faced at your direction as the corner of his lips form a smile.

riwoo - second chance romance

- song: everything by the black skirts

𓍯 this hurts because you're in the same circle of friends with him. at first, youre the type of exes who would walk past each other without a word. riwoo's heart would ache everytime

𓍯 couldn't and would not entertain other girls because he's waiting for you to come back

𓍯 he would message your close friends in the circle to ask how you're doing. one time, he found out you were sick and your friends were all busy and your classmates didn't know where you lived so he rushed to your apartment with medicine and porridge and ended up taking care of you. despite knowing your door passcode, he knocked on the door to give respect without actually barging himself in until you let him inside.

𓍯 "are you okay?" he hugs you out of worry. "riwoo, you can't just hug me like this." he snaps out of it and realized what he's done which might have put you in an uncomfortable situation. "i'm sorry." he apologizes. "no, it's okay. i'm worried you might catch it too. thank you for taking care of me."

𓍯 he's very caring and thoughtful even as exes. when he notices you're down, he would anonymously leave your favorite food on your desk because no one else knows you best aside from him. he knows you would not eat it if you knew so he tries his best to keep it a secret from your friends.

𓍯 cried on your shoulders when he was at his peak of vulnerability because he misses you so much and he said he could not handle walking past each other anymore and acting like nothing happened between you two. "can we try again?" he looked straight into yours with his eyes pooled with tears. "only if we both promise we'll do better this time." and from that day onwards, your relationship with riwoo was better than before.

jaehyun - 'i wont give up until you fall for me'

- song: adore you by harry styles

𓍯 this man is a down bad loser in love for you. when i tell you there's no other woman in the world for him, trust me.

𓍯 he likes you a lot but not in an overwhelming way. he just wants to prove he can take care of you well.

𓍯 jaehyun is very open when it comes to expressing his love for you. social anxiety is scared of him because he's always verbal about his feelings even when surrounded with a lot of people. "can you slow down, pretty?" you've been trying to walk in a fast pace because he's been calling you pretty. you weren't trying to run away because you hate it, you just don't want him to see your red face because you honestly love it when he compliments you. "there's so many people can you please stop calling me that?" he quickly catches up after you. "then you should stop being so pretty and cute in front of me." he sniffs like it was so easy for him to say that. the people around you looked in your direction and smiled at jaehyun's remark.

𓍯 would intensely stare at you every chance he gets because he loves admiring all your features. "has anybody told you you have such pretty eyes?" his comment would leave you all flustered. "when will you stop looking at me?" you rolled your eyes. "hm...until you melt?" he gave you the sweetest wink, teasing you.

𓍯 you started dating when you accidentally confessed he's good looking and he makes your heart race. "i bet there aren't any other guys in the world like my boyfriend!" your friend starts bragging about her man. "tch! i bet no one's as handsome and sweet as jaehyun!" both jaehyun and your friend were surprised with what you just said that you started running away when jaehyun was asking you to repeat your words. "what? you think i'm handsome? does that mean you like m—oh my god! do you like me too? are you my girlfriend now?!" he jumps around the street with how happy he was to finally win your heart.

taesan - brother's bestfriend (jaehyun as your brother)

- song: sweater weather by the neighborhood

𓍯 your brother brings him home a lot to play games and you'd ask your mom if she has prepared some snacks for them just so you can enter their room to deliver the food and shoot a glance at him

𓍯 you know a lot of girls like him and you're glad he's best friends with jaehyun because you get to see him hang around your house.

𓍯 although he's not the type to strike a conversation first, he actually looks at you when your brother talks to you and you would accidentally meet eyes with him where you would immediately look away

𓍯 he unconsciously grew this habit of watching out and taking care of you after all the times he has seen your relationship with your brother. one time jaehyun left the two of you at the park after forgetting something at home. taesan would grab the end of your shirt to pull you closer after a bicycle just passed by. "be careful, jaehyun might scold me." no. it wasn't because of jaehyun. it's because he cares for you.

𓍯 he tried to keep his little crush on you a secret because he's scared jaehyun might not like him for you.

𓍯 "hey! you're supposed to wash the dishes today! dont even dare to pass that job to me again and run away later!" you threw a pillow to him before walking away. you glimpsed at taesan who was sitting beside him before you run upstairs. jaehyun chuckles, "ah that kid...isn't she cute?" jaehyun glued his eyes on the tv while pressing the keys of his game console. "yeah, she is." taesan didnt know it would come out of his mouth. jaehyun slowly turned his head to the flustered taesan. "what did you say..?"

𓍯 your first kiss with him happened when you were reaching your brother's book in the shelf. when you turned around, taesan was towering you while he reaches the book for you. your faces were too close he ended up kissing you with consent and that's how you started dating.

leehan - slowburn/first love

- song: spring snow by 10cm

𓍯 he's just so first love coded!

𓍯 the opposite of jaehyun. he tries not to make it obvious that he has fallen for you.

𓍯 the type to look at you when you're not looking. he knows you were looking at him from afar at the cafeteria and when your friend talks to you, he'd grab the chance to look at you the same way and he would find himself smiling on his own.

𓍯 would tilt the umbrella towards your side while his shoulders are already wet just so you wouldn't get rained on.

𓍯 loves admiring you from afar because he gets to look at you without feeling embarrassed.

𓍯 during a class retreat, you got asked by your classmates what's your ideal type. leehan was too dense to realize you were talking about him. "someone with sparkly eyes...and fluffy hair? someone who looks like they'd make a good partner?" you answered. 'hm? is there some guy like that in our school?' he thought to himself.

𓍯 king of acts of service. not good with words but he's insanely good in expressing his feelings through actions.

𓍯 it took wayyy too long before the two of you confessed to each other. it was so obvious to all of your friends that you like each other but you and leehan are the only ones who don't know about it. maybe because you're refusing to believe he would like someone like you.

𓍯 "how could you fall for someone like me? i don't think i'm as good as other girls and you're just...way too out of my league." your eyes were glued to the ground, in a disbelief that leehan likes you. "what do you mean 'someone like you?' you're everything i could ever ask for..." he brushes your hair with his fingers before pulling you into a hug.

woonhak - friends to lovers

- song: this is what falling in love feels like by jvke

𓍯 he's very extroverted, but when it comes to expressing his feelings, he tries to be nonchalant about it. (he doesn't want to be teased by his friends).

𓍯 would get this and that for you because he remembers you mentioning how much you liked it. "what's this?" you asked wonhak who placed a cinnamon bun on your table. "just saw it when i was passing by." he answered without looking at you.

𓍯 would use "y/n, wanna try the newly opened restaurant down the street?" as an excuse to go out on a date with you because he infact have been to that restaurant already.

𓍯 you knew you were starting to fall for him because his smiles started to hit different than normal days. "oh, woonhak? i dont remember you being this cute?" woonhak shyly rubs his nape, at a disbelief that you found him cute.

𓍯 you fell asleep on their couch while hanging around his house and he pulls the blanket over your body so you won't get cold. he started admiring you in your sleep and thinks you have such long eyelashes. he'd flinch when you move and pretended he was doing nothing.

𓍯 "hey! woonhak! look at this!" you were all giggly while playing around the water fountain and he was standing, watching you have fun before deciding to get himself wet and play with you around the fountain as well.

𓍯 he offered to dry your hair with a towel. he'd be so playful with it and mess with your hair for fun. "hey! stop it!" he would laugh and then pat your head with so much affection.

𓍯 you love teasing him that he likes you because he's so cute when he gets flustered like his secret has been revealed to the world, but you didn't expect it to backfire immediately. "what would you do if i do like you?" he says.

reblogs are very much appreciated ><

[emiixuu]

blossoming devotion

a prologue to ‘the cat puppet and bunny doll’ series

💌 pairing :: harbinger!scaramouche x doll!reader

🌌 content warning :: unhealthy & developing relationship and characters, reader being referred to as ‘it’, “cannibalism” but not really since it’s just body fluid?, toxicity

📝 synopsis :: In which, you are Dottore’s creation and his thoughtful gift to Scaramouche

✒️ word count :: 3,909

🐰 author’s note :: wrote mainly to set up a lore or something eh

Fixing up your hair, the unhinged scientist gives you a smile devoid of any real warmth. He was making last touches here and there. He was quite pleased with his work. Years of studying Scaramouche has given him a great knowledge of Khaenri'ah's ancient technology.

Scaramouche was great, and all. A great experiment of his and now, he was eager to create his own ‘Scaramouche’. He had to move forward, after all. Science needs progress and you shall be it.

You’ve spent a few days with the doctor already. He was odd, but you didn’t mind. You were only observing the world around you for the first time. Dottore was the first person you have met. As far as you are concerned, he was normal. One thing you learned about him is that he loves the sound of his own voice.

He has given you a general knowledge; writing, reading, etcetera. He made sure you came with all that already. In his eyes, you will be an even more of an impressive experiment than the sixth was. He was sure of that.

You were staring at Dottore, your only focus on your creator as he was finally done with the final completion. He stepped back to analyze any mistakes in his project.

Suddenly, a sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted the both of you. Dottore didn’t seem as startled as you were.

“Why did you call me here?” The voice spoke, low and aloof, somewhat annoyed, too. He didn’t want to be here, spending time with Dottore was the last thing he wanted.

Despite his voice sharply cutting the previous peaceful atmosphere in the room, your heart thumped a little, or something akin to a heart that the doctor gave you.

Dottore smirks faintly, turning his gaze towards the person that voice belongs to, “oh, if it isn’t Scaramouche? Thank you for joining us! I wanted to show you my newest achievement you have helped me with.”

“Help you? What nonsense are you talking about again-“ the voice stops abruptly as he sees you, having not noticed you before. His eyes oscillated up and down, seemingly scanning your whole being.

You could finally get a better look at him too as Dottore moved out of the way. Another flutter hits your chest. The person in front of you was a mesmerizing beauty, sticking to your consciousness with ease. Your breath was taken away as he dissected you with his indigo eyes. Elegant and charming, fairest face you have ever seen, even if you barely seen any other. You couldn’t take your eyes away for not even a single moment.

Noticing the way you were looking at him, his expression changed from mild curiosity to confusion.

“What are you looking at?” He questions, raising an eyebrow, slightly irritated by your obtrusive staring. He wasn’t very patient.

Before you could reply, Dottore butts in, “Forgive its behaviour. You are the first other being here, except for me.”

The beautiful man, who could even be a prince, in your educated opinion, lets out a simple huff. He was seemingly satisfied with the doctor’s answer and didn’t need to pry into the matter, or didn’t really want to. After a second, he realizes what Dottore just said.

“Wait, first?” He asks, looking at Dottore with something akin to a slight interest.

“Yes! This, dear Scaramouche, is a puppet I have created with the same technology you were created with.” He replies cheerfully, clearly this was all a blast to him.

Scaramouche seems momentarily surprised, looking at you and then again at the doctor.

“Oh? You want to replace me?” He laughs, the sound of it ringing in your ears. He seemed amused by that thought. An absurd plan would that be.

“Not at all. I couldn’t replicate you, it could never be you.” He shook his head in disapproval.

“Didn’t know you liked me that much.” He snickers mockingly.

“You misunderstand. You are useful just the way you are. It would be too difficult to make a fully identical copy of you.” He explains, a bit displeased at Scaramouche for being sarcastic with him when they were discussing his important work right now. He was never a fan of his sharp tongue.

Scaramouche just rolled his eyes at his response. The time he has spent here so far was truly a pain. Getting impatient, he asks, “well, what’s it for?”

At the same time, he was at least a bit curious about you.

The doctor came to stand behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders, sighing.

“Unfortunately, this little thing? Useless.” He spoke dramatically as if it was a horrible tragedy, letting go of you and pushing you into the front of where Scaramouche stood. The action made you stumble before him. Scaramouche did not move an inch, nor tried to stabilize you.

Dottore walks closer, standing now on the side between the two of you. His voice changes back into monotone, “it is just a prototype. I had to try it first before putting my all into it, you know?”

You shift your gaze back at the doctor, shocked to hear his words. Useless? That was not what he said before. Your throat started to feel tight, eyes darting from one Harbinger to the other. Your eyes were slightly pricking as tears were threatening to fall, you didn’t understand this feeling. But you held it back, not daring to show a single emotion as you were scared to even draw attention to yourself at this moment.

“I mean, useless to me. Perhaps you could find some use for it. It would be too bad to entirely scrap it and throw it away, no?” His words were laced with mocking sympathy. He didn’t look at you anymore, concentrating his eyes on the sixth as he was interested in his reaction. You were, too.

“Tch, how careless of you to waste time and material on this then,” Scaramouche looks away from the both of you, “what use would it be to me?”

You stare at him, pitifully against your own control. You couldn’t help but plead with him with your eyes. From the moment you saw him, you felt something special about him. You couldn’t really explain it, neither did you know what it was, or why. You couldn’t let him go, couldn’t let him let you go, a strangely swift admiration flourishing within you. But you didn’t know any better.

“Hm, I don’t know? Whatever you’d like, I don’t really care. Take it as a humble gift from me.” the doctor says, smiling at him. Once again, his smile did not have any friendliness in it. He was awful at appearing kind, or perhaps, he wasn’t even trying.

“Look at it, how sad it looks!” Dottore mocks, “it’s quite literally begging you to take it.”

“Shut up.” Scaramouche clicked his tongue, bemused by the doctor.

He was offering him a gift, a non-refusable one. There were no strings attached. Still, it was a gift from Dottore, which itself sounded like a risk to take. If he didn’t take you, what would happen to you? However, why should he care? You would be just another problem on his back, he didn’t really need that.

Even so, the pitifully pathetic expression you were making forced a buried part of him out of the abyss of his memories he has forsaken, burning unpleasantly on the tip of his tongue. A part he had hidden away so thoroughly, he was sure it was gone. He was over and above these emotions. How could you, an insignificant bug beneath his foot, do that? An insignificant reminder of his past, despite not wanting to see it that way. Created and thrown away like nothing? Too ironic for his taste.

Was this a joke on him? No, why would it be? It was just the way of the world laughing in his face but he won’t let it. He denounced the world a long time ago. It did not matter to him, he was not going to give this any more thought. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing to him.

So if it’s nothing, why refuse?

“Alright, I can find some use for it.” He replies nonchalantly, acting like he was doing charity work for the doctor. You could be perhaps useful to him. Who knows? You were a puppet like him after all, assuming you are indestructible as him, you could come in handy in battle. Maybe you would end up more competent than his worthless subordinates.

He wouldn’t admit it was because he felt a small bit of pity for you, not even to himself. In any way, his thought of reason was not a lie to cover up his emotional part. He meant it, you could be of use to him.

“Perfect!” Dottore claps his hands together, satisfied that he has accepted his ‘gift’.

There was a moment of silence, the three of you just exchanging almost awkward looks. Nothing more to be said, Scaramouche seemed ready to leave. For some reason, he could not stand being in the presence of Dottore for long periods, and despite not much time has passed since he came here, he had enough of him. Too bad for him that Dottore was his colleague.

“Ah,” the doctor jumps up, remembering something he forgot to add, “before I will let you take it, I shall do a few small adjustments. In - hm - .. two days, it’s entirely yours.”

“Fine, I guess, send it through someone to my place. I’m not going to bother showing up here just to come pick it up.” He simply says, fixing his hat and turning around, leaving the room without uttering anything else. He was pretty straight-forward.

“The audacity of him.” Dottore spoke, clearly he wasn’t pleased with that, “he still didn’t learn his place it seems.”

Even with the lack of respect from the sixth, Dottore still appeared calm, “it’s fine. Let him fall onto his mouth on his own.”

Sitting on the cold floor, you look up at him. Your chin was resting on his knees. How did you get yourself in this position? Simple, he allowed you to sit near him but the only close seat to him was.. well, the floor. There were not many chairs at his place.

Putting your chin onto his knees stunned him though. You were getting bold, yet you didn’t see anything unnatural about your action. So he let it slide.

He awkwardly raises his hand, patting your head hesitantly. He was not used to showing affection. But he thought you might be deserving of it. He found your persistent clinginess adorable. Your behaviour towards him compelled him to give you a little care. After what you did for him.

It has been days since one of the doctor’s goons took you to him. During those days, you have managed to injure yourself already.

On an expedition in a land that was unknown to you, you didn’t ask for the details of your work here. You were following behind him as his other subordinates were. You kept your distance, not wanting to upset Scaramouche.

Before the expedition, he expressed distaste in the way you kept smothering him with your presence.

“Breathe in my way once more and I will leave you behind in some dark forest. We shall see if you remember my scent enough to find your way back.”

Honestly, his words gave your spine a chill. He was clearly sarcastic and not actually expecting that you would be able to find your way back to him by a scent, but with the way you were always near him made him think you might already remember his scent well and would even be capable of that. Getting lost in a dark forest though? With no idea how to get back and fetch for yourself? Terrified of his threat, you decided to ignore your nagging urge to be around him. Following him from afar was enough.

You carried out the task he has given you with a better ability than the others, causing them to give you silent dirty looks. Because how dare you appear out of nowhere and be the best out of his team already? Nevertheless, it was not surprising to you nor him that you were doing well. You were not like them, after all. You didn’t see them as a competition, such things were meaningless to you. The only thing important was that he would be pleased.

You were even given a weapon, an electrogun. You didn’t notice anyone else having that, most of the Fatui had either cryogun or hydrogun, or other weapons. Which was perhaps another reason why you were getting dirty looks. Special treatment on the first day? Unbelievable! You definitely won’t be liked amongst your peers.

After hours and hours, most of his minions were getting exhausted, from endless walking and fighting. He has over-worked them enough. Working under the sixth was not pleasant, one wrong word and one might get a slap in their face. So none of them would dare to ask for a break. But a new addition?

“Hey, you,” one of your Fatui peers gently pushes into you, eliciting a gasp of surprise from you. She smirks at your reaction a little, she whispers into your ears with a giggle, “are you not tired? Ask him if we can get a break. I’m a little shy and he’ll be nice to you since it’s your first time.”

What seemed like an innocent request was actually a trap. They were all too scared to ask for something so simple. And you, the new fresh meat in their squad, would not know the consequences yet. Serves you right for ‘parading here like you were something better’ in their belief.

“My Lord!” You spoke up, your voice trembling a little, you were still shaken from your last conversation with Scaramouche. He stops and looks at you, raising his eyebrow of what could you of all the people here want from him, “Could we take a break? She is too tired to go on anymore.”

You point out to the woman, who was now dumbstruck, not thinking you would throw her under the bus like that. She should have thought twice. However, that was not your intention, you were only saying that out of the goodness of your heart because you cared and were concerned about the health of your colleagues. Being kind to them like this will definitely make you likable, right?

Scaramouche glares at the woman, displeased at the fact she was complaining about her exhaustion. Perhaps, messing with the fresh meat was not the greatest idea. She was ready to get yelled at, but no scolding came.

He sighs, watching them. He decides to not push them any more and gives out his next orders, “fine. We will take a break here. Build tents and go get some sleep before tomorrow.”

Surprised at the way he actually agreed to the request, they didn’t need to be told twice as they started to scurry off. You didn’t move, standing behind him. He didn’t pay you attention any more, not turning around to tell you off, just observing his underlings, making sure they weren’t doing anything stupid.

You didn’t dare to talk to him either, nor get near him again. Just watching him. His focus on whatever is behind him is none, unconcerned. A bush rustling close, your eyes darting to the sound. The leaves shuffled slightly, you held your breath, not taking your gaze away from it. Perhaps it was just the wind? But you had to be sure. You step in a little closer to the bush, wanting to inspect it.

Before you could come any closer, an armed hilichurl peeks out of the bush. No one else noticed it. Your hand reaches for the electrogun but your reaction wasn’t fast enough as the hilichurl shoots before you do. A flying arrow, slicing the air as it hurls right towards Scaramouche, ignoring you entirely. Time seemed to stand still, agile on your feet, you moved hastily not thinking twice.

It all transpired so quickly. You feel sharp pain in your stomach, whimpering quietly. He turned around even before the arrow had reached you as he was ready to flick it off easily, eyes widening, not expecting you to throw yourself in front of him. He is looking away from you for a split of a moment and you are already acting ill-conceived?

A liquid akin to a blood oozing from your fragile body. It wasn't real blood, just something to mess with his senses. You wouldn’t die.

He caught you with ease before you could fall, holding your limp body close to him. How could you be so foolish? A simple hilichurl wouldn’t do anything to him. Not to mention, he had quick reflexes. He was always on alert. Yet, he couldn’t predict your action.

He looks at your wound, the red liquid staining his clothes. There is a brief hesitance from him for a moment as if thinking about something. Something forbidden.

His hand moves to the place of your wound, touch lingering around it carefully. You flinch at his invasive touch to your now sensitive and injured area. You try to push him off, not thinking straight. Oh, suddenly you wanted space? As if. He didn’t let you move an inch away from him, holding you tightly, even pulling you closer.

“Don’t move.” His voice was firm, he wasn’t taking a ‘no’ or any other form of defiance for an answer.

As you finally cease your squirming, he softens into a look of curiosity. He scoops the liquid that was leaking out of you on his finger to study it, interested in your nature. It was bright red, glistening and tantalizing, enticing an improper desire on him. As if it was a spilled fine wine, waiting to be savoured. Almost inviting him.

A normal reaction would be trying to stop your bleeding but in truth you were not in any danger. He can worry about getting you repaired later. He licks his finger, tasting your ‘blood’, “sweet.”

The word he has spoken, just below the whisper. You almost wouldn’t catch it if you weren’t in a close proximity, right in his hands. He neither grimaces at the taste nor smiles, he just wears an intensely alluring expression, with only a subtle hint of the corner of his lips moving, his eyes unreadable to you.

His actions shocked his lackeys, staring at the scene in front of them. They were frozen and rather not intervening in whatever peculiarity did Scaramouche get into. No one wanted to cross him.

“S-Sorry,” you winced as you spoke, noticing the way you smeared his clothes.

“For what?” He asks, his voice still quiet. He was not sure what you were apologizing for. For the fact your ‘blood’ was revoltingly sugary to his tastes? You should, perhaps.

“For ruining your clothes.” You reply simply, slipping in and out of consciousness, your vision blurry.

With a puzzled expression on his face, he laughs sardonically. Were you really worried over something so minor? As if your ‘blood’ was a filth on his clothes? How sweet of you, just like your insides.

You try to speak again but he shushes you softly, caressing your cheek, smudging your own blood on your face, “shh, don’t waste your energy.”

His voice was almost soothing, a cozy lullaby accompanying you to sleep. The last thing you see before your eyes become too heavy are just fleeting images of him.

Few days have passed since that occurrence. And now you were here, sitting on the floor in front of him, snuggly resting your head on his knees. Safe and sound under his fingertips.

“Hm, you might have not been made for battle,” he says thoughtfully, “did you really think one little arrow could harm me?” He muses, seemingly finding your act of putting yourself in danger to ‘save’ him, endearingly ludicrous. It would be nothing but a scratch to him. But you are weaker, perhaps the doctor wasn’t as good as he liked to boast about. At least he fixed you up right away when he took you to him.

You didn’t reply to his question, feeling a little silly under his gaze as your heroic act was reduced to being stupid. You weren’t even trying to be a ‘hero’, you just didn’t want him to get hurt. That was your job essentially, right?

Yet, it was what got you his praise. Patting you on the head gently as if you were a pet that has performed its trick correctly. With the position you were in, you might even be one.

Despite his touch being gentle, his face was twisted into a mocking amusement. You lean into his touch instinctively, nuzzling into his knees, too, your intentions pure. Enjoying the moment between the two of you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. His hands in your hair felt ethereal.

“Are you a God?” You ask, quietly, innocence oozing from your question. A dreamy look on your face, it couldn’t be more crystal clear you held him high in your mind. You could at least try to act nonchalant. Still, he couldn’t expect much from you.

He chuckles at your question, not taking you seriously, “what makes you say that?”

“By the definition of divine, I think you are one,” you mumble, pausing for a moment to think about your words before continuing, “heavenly, graceful, powerful. You radiate so brightly, like the delicate moon in the sky. Even in the darkest of nights, your magnificence could show the way to the lost. If not a God, then an angel?”

Where did you get all this knowledge from? He was perplexed by your words. Did the doctor meddle with your mind? No, what would that achieve? He shook off those thoughts.

“You think I am delicate?” He asks mirthfully, “the only delicate thing in this room is you.”

He sighs as if it was a chore for him to speak to you, yet he smirks, “But yes, to answer your question, I could be a God.”

You gasp in awe, taking his words entirely serious, eyes sparkling in admiration. But it’s not like he was messing with you. He had great plans for his Godhood, he will achieve those.

His hands travel to the rest of your body, dragging his fingers from your head, to shoulders, to your arms. He tugs your arm up to him. Beneath his slender fingers your skin fluttered, he traced the lines of your puppet joints, slowly and carefully scrutinizing, immersed in how it feels to touch them. His joints disappeared a long time ago. The corner of his lips slightly raises.

You were the embodiment of how he used to be.

And if one with a seething self-hatred had themselves served on a silver platter, what would they do?

Forgive him for indulging himself, but he shall have you in the most unadulterated way. Swallow you whole before anyone else could. Softly, undeserving of the harsh reality.

“My Lord-” your voice was shaky, clearly you were a little sensitive to touch.

“You can call me Kunikuzushi, dear.”

Please, please, dear God, let our bond be pure and thrive into eternity.

[kairiscorner]

❝𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 . . .❞

kento nanami x wife!reader imagine . . . 💭

✒️ word count: 424 💭 summary: your little darlings caught their mommy kissing santa claus... ~ 🍥 author's note: it's pretty suggestive bc it's nanami fucking kento 💝 🎧 song inspo: i saw mommy kissing santa claus by the jackson 5

the sound of your daughter squealing and pointing at you and the red jacket clad man dressed up as the jolliest man on earth alerted your young son to come into the living room, who squealed in return.

their mommy was kissing santa claus in the living room last night.

your eyes widened and you immediately pulled away from him, involuntarily smiling as you see his flustered face. you always insisted a beard suited your dear husband, though he never thought putting on the snow white beard and wearing a santa costume the two of you scraped together to surprise your children would really make them believe santa arrived tonight to leave their pretty mother with a gift for all her nice (and naughty) deeds this year.

"santa's kissing mommy!" your little girl cried out, with your little boy covering her eyes and screaming, "mommy's kissing santa claus!" you chuckled under your breath as your husband sighed and muttered under his breath how the plan to surprise them at midnight with santa's arrival was now ruined. "i knew we should've saved the fun for later..." he mumbled, with you placing your hands on the opposite sides of his face with a soft and sly smile on your face.

"well, at least santa spoiled me with a reward for being the sweetest mother ever, no?" you giggled out, making nanami blush at your boldness, with him easing against your touch, making your children squeal again and cry out how their mommy was kissing santa, it's true! they saw it with their own eyes!

as they rushed to get their daddy and tell him all about how mommy's gonna make santa their new daddy... you pulled your husband closer and pecked his lips gently, treating him for his sweetness and devotion to you and your children, to this little family you both call yours. "you always deserve a reward for being my beautiful and perfect wife, darling." he reminds you with a low chuckle of his own, pulling the beard down and kissing you passionately, warming you up better than the fireplace and the burn of alcohol did.

with the sound of your children's cries and giggles at having caught their pretty mommy kissing santa claus filled the whole house, they'd never let you live it down... guess your dearest husband's going to have to remind you who you really love once he comes back. but tonight... you'll be showing santa baby over here just how much you've been a good girl for him this year.

[kairismess]

:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ their ideal dates . . . (part 1)

featuring: tsukishima kei, osamu miya, and kenma kozume.

🏐 genre: fluff !

✒️ word count: 587

⺌✧❀ tsukishima kei.

🍰 his ideal date . . . going to a museum with you.

tsukishima isn't exactly very interested in going out on dates or spending the whole day with another person, he thinks it'll take up too much energy and time. and besides... not a lot of people are into geology like him. though when you entered his life, all this boy could think of was his undeniably strong urge to want to take you to a museum, and just teach you all about the fossils and archaic species of animals that he knew of–and that was a lot–but he feared it wouldn't be your thing, and he didn't wanna bore you or waste your time.

tsukishima didn't want to be selfish and go to where he wanted, he wanted you to enjoy the day over him. but no worries... all you have to do is reassure his anxious self, hidden under his cool facade, that there was nothing selfish about wanting to spend the day with you, the complete opposite of it, really.

if anything... it didn't matter to you where you'd spend the day, just as long as you spent the day with him, you could listen to more of his cute rambling and info dumping about dinosaurs and fossils all he wanted. he did look super cute like that, you thought.

⺌✧❀ osamu miya.

🍙 his ideal date . . . helping you out in the kitchen.

osamu has always had a knack for food and cooking; it could be said that his love language would be sharing food with you, the one thing that gives him the most joy after a long day, second to you, his dearest. he loves coming over to your house to hang out, and if you were ever hungry, he wouldn't hesitate to make you something–though he feels a little self-conscious cooking in a kitchen that he wasn't familiar with. though if you're going to cook, expect osamu to be there, ready to help you make the best dinner you've ever tasted before.

osamu sometimes gets a little anxious about whether or not you'll like the food, and being in the same room as you, doing what he love for the person he loves. it makes him a little uneasy,overthink a little bit–but when you smile and your eyes light up at the taste of his food... he feels warm and delighted; he wants cook for and with you forever, if you wanted him to.

⺌✧❀ kenma kozume.

🍮 his ideal date . . . playing videogames with you.

nothing makes kenma any happier than snuggling up next to you underneath the big blanket, leaning his head down on yours, chuckling a little to himself when you lose a life in the game. he teasingly calls you his little loser, kissing your cheek to cheer you up right after.

kenma stops whenever you fall behind his character in the game to teach you how to jump up on platforms so you two could walk together, and he defends you whenever you fight bosses you struggle defeating by yourself, saving you at the last moment before your hearts run out, and acting all dramatic when he gets defeated before you–laying down on your lap and pretending to fall asleep on you, smiling all cheekily and kissing your stomach as you play.

he rolls over to his side and watches you play, cheering you on, encouraging to avenge him–and when you finally defeat the boss, even without him... he sits up and kisses your lips sweetly, smiling against your lips and chuckling, calling you his little champion.

[behoright]

ultraviolet disguise l s. crosby

don’t be so naive / you know that you are all I see

summary: Sid makes you apologize after you give him attitude all night.

wordcount: i literally don’t know how to word count on my iPad please someone tell me I swear it’s not too long maybe 4k

song: tonight you are mine - the technicolors

warnings: minors dni! Contains a whole lot of cursing and smut. Quite degrading and rough as well, so please read at your own discretion.

a/n: plotless, plotless smut. poor proofreading lol. When I say I would let this man do anything to me, I mean it. Feel free to fill my inbox with your thots. Love you always.

(＞。☆) ✒️ ˚‧ ⌗ ⌗ ⌗ ⺌

“Where is she?”

“Can someone go find her?”

Your group of friends was currently shivering on the sidewalk, in the Nova Scotia winter, as they drunkenly waited for their rides to take them home. All necessary interactions exchanged, and many waiting to happen behind closed doors, only a couple of people were sober enough to round up everyone and finally call it a night.

Sidney being one of them, noticed instantly they had left you behind.

In all honesty, he was cranky and tired, the frustration having built up from babysitting a bunch of wasted people.

“Isn’t she a grown ass woman or whatever. She can figure it out on her own.” someone slurred.

“Alright, I’m not missing our Uber because of this.” Sidney said, making his way back inside the bar with a huff. No one was coherent enough to go back in there anyways.

The place was packed, people happily mingling at every corner; thankfully, Sid had a great height advantage to almost everyone, so was able to spot you effortlessly through the chattering crowd.

As he walked over to you, thoughts and memories of the messiness that constituted your friendship plagued him, his heart quickening pace inside him.

“Are you done or what?” he spoke loudly above the music and chaos.

“Almost.” you said as you barely turned around to acknowledge him.

“Everyone’s waiting for you, let’s go.” He replied impatiently.

“I’m waiting for this guy to gi-”

“I really don’t care. We’re leaving.” he said, strictly, inching his body towards you and the exit.

Sidney used his physical edge to push you through the crowd, hurrying you with his haste steps right behind you.

“I don’t need you to do this, you know? I’m an adult.” you hissed as you kept walking.

“Well, then maybe start acting like one.”

“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” you exclaimed, turning around and bumping into his chest. Despite your size difference, Sidney felt like he ran into a brick wall.

He sighed, grabbing your arm harshly and pulling you into the nearby bathroom.

“What is your problem?” he said, raising his voice while locking the door behind him.

No one was going to use the bathroom until he figured out where your attitude was coming from.

“I haven’t done anything to you, Sidney.” you muttered.

“Oh yeah? You’ve been acting like a bitch the whole night.”

“Woah. What would the press say about hometown superstar Sidney Crosby using this kinda language?” you snickered, crossing your arms.

“Why are you being so… mean?” Sidney’s eyes narrowed at you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just, fucking, pushing me away all night, like I don’t even exist.”

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t kiss your ass like everyone around here does.” you said, rolling your eyes.

“That’s NOT what it is and you know it.” he yapped.

“I thought you said I needed to stay away from you. I’m too young or whatever.”

Sidney hadn’t rejected you per se, but at that moment, you both recalled the conversation from a while ago.

The conversation that was supposed to put all flirting to a half.

From both of you.

Supposed to.

“It’s not only that, Y/N. You’re Mike’s niece, it’s not right.” he replied, running his hands through his dark hair.

“Fine! Then why are you so mad when I ignore you?” you prompted, throwing your hands up.

“Not only did you mostly ignore me, you, were fucking rude the rest of the time, and I mean, you’re obviously so fucking desperate too.” Sidney almost word vomited, clearly ignoring most of what you said.

“How, Sidney? Literally, how?”

“I mean, look at what you’re wearing!”

“I meant how was I rude.” you said, making him blush at the miscommunication, too embarrassed to even respond. “Why are you worried about my dress so much?” you teased.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking annoying.”

You knew what this was.

Like a child, throwing a tantrum to get their mother’s attention, basically.

It was obvious to you that bowing down to his ridiculous comments wasn’t an option.

Not yet.

“You like it?” you said, running your hands down the cheap fabric that sat tightly against your body.

“No, I did not say that. I don’t like it.” he muttered, slightly looking away from you.

There was something quite entertaining about rendering a huge, masculine man down to this blubbering of a mess.

“Why not? Is it too slutty for you?” you laughed.

Sidney’s eyes were burning into you, now quite differently than before, as he turned his attention back to you fully.

Nevertheless, he remained silent.

“You holding back, Sid? Why? You don’t want to call me a slut to my face?”

“I would never do that.” he hit back, his low voice echoing in the tiled bathroom.

Looking out of the small window for a second, you sighed. It was too late, and everyone was waiting anyways.

Perhaps tonight you’d throw in the towel. He obviously already had.

“Whatever. We need to go anyways.” you said, walking towards the door.

“No, we’re not leaving until I get an apology from you.” he hit back, positioning himself between you and the exit.

Or… maybe he hadn’t, you thought, seeing that spark still in his voice.

“Good fucking luck with that.” you laughed.

“Just say you’re sorry.”

“I should be asking for the same thing, I mean, you’ve been pretty rude.”

“Because you were rude first!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms up.

“Do you hear yourself? I thought you were the “real” adult here.” you snickered.

He took a step closer just to have you take a step back.

There was no conceding tonight, actually.

He wasn’t getting any apology out of you anytime soon, and the more you stood your ground, the heavier his chest began to heave.

Unbeknownst to him, you knew Sidney perhaps too well.

He was simply too easy to read, always hiding under the hockey personality facade.

It might have fooled anyone else, especially, any other girl, but not you.

Throughout the months you had spent together, it had been incredibly simple to get to know him.

It was only after he distanced himself away from you that you decided to press his buttons.

He fell for it each time, his impulsiveness and real, undercover feelings exposing him and failing your tests constantly.

“You’re really, really pushing it tonight, Y/N.” he muttered.

“Fuck if I care.” you said, raising your shoulders.

Poor Sid, you thought, such masochistic tendencies he had.

If he could only burst his media trained bubble for a second, you could’ve had fun with that together.

“Fucking say sorry.” he repeated, once again.

He was slowly beginning to unravel, his feelings showing clearly through the tense muscles of his body language.

“Or what, Sidney?”

“God, you’re such a fucking brat.” he said, raising his voice, louder than ever before.

“Oh, there he is. Finally, you’re saying what you really think.” you smiled sweetly at him.

“You’re so fucking spoiled, it’s driving me insane.” he said, keeping the slow walk going towards you.

“Keep going, Sid, you’re just making this more enjoyable for me.”

“Yeah, of course this kinda of shit turns you on.”

“You’re one to talk.” you say, flicking your eyes down at the noticeable bulge in Sidney’s pants.

“We’re at a club, Y/N. Not everything is about you.” he said, rolling his eyes and yet attempting to close the space between you two.

“Then why are you here with me?”

“Because you won’t listen to me!” he exclaimed, his legs still moving towards you. “Is this what i have to do to get you to listen?”

“…Yes.” you whispered, and Sidney felt like he finally was starting to break you down.

“Drop the act, Y/N. Tell me what’s going on.” he sighed.

By now, Sidney had covered all the space in the bathroom, and found himself face to face with you against the wall, your fiery eyes looking up at him.

You had walked around in circles enough with him, literally and figuratively.

“If I could spit in your face I fucking would.” you said roughly, your eyes stuck inside his chocolate eyes.

“Do it, then.” he said, his face tilted down towards yours.

“Enough, Sidney.”

The smirk that you had so proudly sported all this time was long gone, Sid building up enough courage to now talk back to you.

“I thought you wanted to? Do it, then. Spit in my face.” he encouraged, smugly.

“You fucking wish.” you said, pushing against him with your chest.

“Woah, woah, calm down, now.” he chuckled, his fingers wrapping around your arms to keep you against the cold tiles of the bathroom.

You couldn’t hide the way his touch made you feel - you had dreamed to be in his hands for a while, and feeling him now just made you wetter.

Unfortunately for you, he noticed right away, his expression morphing into puzzlement as he took you in.

“Look at you. You like this, don’t you?” he asked, incredulous.

“Never in a million years.”

“Then what is this?”

Sidney’s eyes flickered down to your breasts, the hard nipples poking through your dress instantly giving you away.

“It’s cold, Sid.”

“I don’t know, your skin feels pretty warm under my hands.” he raised him eyebrows, moving his hands slightly up and down.

Plan foiled.

“Is this what this is all about?” he questioned, but you kept your lips zipped in frustration.

Sidney took an impossible step forward, your chests coming in contact.

“If I touch you down here, Y/N, what will I find?” he asked, trailing his fingers down your left arm gently.

“I don’t know, maybe if you ever fucked a girl before you’d know.”

“That’s a good one, baby.” he laughed. He couldn’t help it, seeing you so feisty just… for him.

That was all you wanted, apparently.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours, looking for approval as he lingered his fingers in front of your sex. As he got what he needed, he wasted no time in moving your underwear to the side.

“That’s what it is. You’re just dying to get fucked right.”

Sidney whispered a heavenly oh my god as his calloused, thick fingers rubbed your folds.

“Did raising my voice make you feel all hot inside?” he asked.

“No.”

“You’re fucking soaking my fingers, Y/N. Quit lying.”

He knew he could stretch you out immensely just by using a couple of his digits; but he decided not to, taking his touch just to your entrance and circling your clit, with no added pressure, making your head painfully fall back.

“I’m barely touching you and you’re already moaning. You’re so desperate, aren’t you?” he coaxed.

No witty come back spewed out of your mouth, the slight relief and building anticipation of indulgence growing deeper within you.

“You really want to be put in your place, huh? That’s all you want?”

His touch had you at a loss for words; you could barely nod in between needy whines.

“Stroke my cock, c’mon.” he said, his voice husky as ever, as he placed your hand on top of the swollen erection that was poking through his dress pants.

It was becoming hard to focus, hard to touch him right, Sidney refusing to dip his fingers at any point inside you, instead just painfully teasing you.

“Oh, you just think I’m going to fuck you like that?” he asked, dropping his hands away from you.

“Fuck no. Work for it.” he said aggressively. “Get on your knees.”

Your knees found the floor promptly, betraying your will but getting a satisfied smirk out of him.

“Look how obedient you’re being now, huh?” Sidney said, his fingers fastly undoing his pants in front of you. “Open up, baby. Let me see your tongue.”

Sidney slapped his cock on your tongue a couple of times before thrusting inside your mouth, not giving you a chance at any action but to wrap your lips around his girthy cock instantaneously, moaning in satisfaction.

“Holy fuck.” he moaned, letting his head lull forward with his bottom lip secured under his teeth. “This is what I have to do, isn’t it? I have to treat you like this, for you to-, to-, fuck, oh my god.”

You pulled Sidney’s length into your throat, your muscles tightening in a gag around his thick head, mostly in order to break him further and to stop his gloating.

“God, where did you learn how to do that, fuck.” he groaned deeply, lacing his fingers in your hair, instinctively massaging your scalp sweetly.

“You’re so much nicer when you’re choking on my dick like this.” he continued, his thighs tightening and clenching under your hands as you bobbed your head on him, thick saliva building at the back of your throat as you somehow devoured him more and more.

If he was holding back any moaning, it was hard to tell, his abs visibly clenching whenever you took him deeper and he, consequently, moaned louder.

“This is a good, good way to say sorry, baby.” he growled, his head thrown back, but stopping your motions right away.

“I’m not saying sorry, Sidney.” you said, pulling away from his cock so quickly that you were left with a trail of spit connecting you back to his glistening head.

He felt his chest fill with anger and lust, desire.

All he wanted to do was take you home and fuck you until you couldn’t talk back to him any longer. He instinctively wrapped his fist tightly around your hair, pulling you up by your locks.

“Look how messy you are.” he muttered as you came to your feet, his big eyes trailing over your shimmering chin, dripping in spit and precum. “Come here.”

Sidney shoved his tongue inside you, placing his other hand around your throat gently. He loved to keep your head steady as he overwhelmed your mouth, running his tongue over yours with no rhythm or caution, simply taking whatever he wanted.

“I guess I just have to fuck this attitude out of you.” he said against your lips as he pulled away breathless. “Face the fucking wall.”

As he turned you around, you did your best to hide the huge smirk on your face. He was finally going to give you what you both so desperately wanted; despite what he said, Sidney’s actions had always proved different than his words.

He hated that he had such a hard time resisting you, that he spent his night thinking about you with his cock throbbing in his hand, but he couldn’t wait anymore.

The rubber band had finally snapped.

Sidney squeezed your ass, your silky flesh crinkling in exquisite pain through your thin dress. He kept marking you with his fingertips as his other hand roughly pulled down your minuscule underwear, letting it trickle down your legs as he directed your ass towards him.

He tried to keep his composure as he pulled your dress up, the traces of his fingernails on your skin illuminated by the small ray of the street lamp that came through the high bathroom window.

It was hitting you perfectly, actually, so much so that he could see the glob of your wetness leaking out of your entrance, your pussy angled perfectly towards him.

“I would tell you how pretty you look like this but you don’t deserve it.” he spit out, beginning to stroke his member up and down your slit.

“You’re so fucking needy for me. I can’t believe how wet you are, God.”

Without warning, Sidney filled you up completely, ripping a gasp out of you as he gave you no time to adjust. His size made it hard to breathe or even keep your legs from wobbling already.

“Yeah, you’re not used to taking big cocks like this, aren’t you.” he questioned, readjusting the grip in your hair once again. “Well, you’re going to tonight.”

He began to fuck you, almost savagely, every mouthwatering plunge hitting your cervix and stretching you to your max. Sidney grunted deeply every time he moved. He knew that as much as he tried to keep it together, you could see the cracks within him, giving into you. But he knew he couldn’t back down without teaching you a lesson.

“Say sorry.” he groaned in your ear, but all he got in response were sweet moans.

Frustrated, Sidney picked up the pace, slamming himself harder against you and inside you. Your body rebounded against the wall harder every time, an aching starting to cover every inch of your skin, seeping within you and mixing with the unrelenting desire that he was sending through your being.

Whenever he wanted, Sid would move his right hand, squeezing and grabbing any bit of you that pleased him.

He was big enough to have access to your every part.

The back of your thigh, or the side of your tummy were covered in his fingertips, flecks of his rough handling beginning to dot all over you.

Your nipples oversensitized, having been rubbed against the freezing tiles through the fabric of your dress were the only sensation cooling you down as he kept increasing his rhythm, his heart pounding heavily against your back.

“Yeah, I bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” he said, tilting your head so he could see you. “Look at those pretty eyes rolling back. Fuck.”

The sounds that filled up the room were filthy, he thought.

Sidney felt primal, taking you in the bathroom of a sleazy bar, not because he had let himself go, but because it pleased him to put you in your place.

The buckle of his bell dinging against his pants as he sped up.

His heavy breathing fusing with your candied moans, reverberating against the empty stalls.

The squelching of your bodies united, drops of want and longing and frustration running down both of your legs, splattering against the ground or soaking his pubic hair - it was so dirty and out of character for him.

Only you drove him to this.

Knowing that he was the only one that could hear this, all of it being covered by the muffled sounds of the raging bar outside, made him grip your hair a little tighter each time he focused on it.

This was the closest he had ever been to your face. Underneath the light sheen of makeup, he could see your skin turning a deeper shade of red; those big and thick lashes he loved so much batting irregularly. He noticed you wanted to regulate your response to him, attempting stupidly to keep your pupils focused on him instead of oscillating to the back of your head once again.

But he could see right through you.

He could see you struggle, with your telling high pitched moans, trembling underneath his touch.

It exasperated him. Delightfully.

“You want to cum so badly, don’t you? Yeah?” he asked, almost mockingly.

You nodded, the pull from his hand making the roots of your hair sting more and more, pulling your face in such a pathetic way that kept Sid’s cock covered in wetness.

“Too fucking bad. You don’t get to until you apologize.” he barked, pressing your heating cheek against the wall.

Your defiance was obvious; you decided to keep this little game going a while longer, considering it made him so mad and delirious, pushing his pelvis so forcibly against you that your ass bounced audibly on him.

“Apologize. Be good, c’mon.” he uttered in your ear, doing his best at holding back his groans as he slowed his thrusts down.

Playing was for two people, after all, and he knew the change of pace would be what you despised the most. It was immediately evident, groans of desperation pouring out of you.

Still, you could see stars of pleasure as you squeezed your eyes tightly in anguish.

“Now, Y/N.” he demanded, a hand coming down to spank you harshly.

If it was up to him, he would have kept this going forever.

He had thought about a million ways to punish you throughout the whole night.

You were lucky he only had a public bathroom available at the moment.

He could feel you on the verge of breaking, both in the cracks of your voice, the fact that you were pushing back at him slightly, your body looking for more, and of course, your cunt clamping firmly on his cock through the wetness. He made the decision to keep the thought to himself as an attempt to keep you as tamed as he had you at the moment.

All he needed was to slow down even more.

As adorable as your squeals were, and as much as they made his dick twitch noticeably inside you, he wasn’t going to let up.

“I’m sorry, Sid.”

Eureka.

For once, Sidney had the upper hand. He made you putty in his hands and you equally knew it.

“Good job.” he said, fucking you roughly again.

He went back up to max, tightening his jaw as your pussy sent waves of toe curling pleasure down his cock. He was leaking inside you, precum spilling all over and painting your insides.

“I’m so sorry, Sidney, I’m sorry.” you repeated, his eyes on your face.

“That’s okay, baby. Just once was good, love. You’re so good. So good.” he said placing his lips against your cheek.

The act of tenderness made you quiver.

If you had let up once, you could finally fully let go.

You could feel his pupils dilating in lust as your mouth was stuck open, blaring your sobs and cries as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

Ceaseless in his fucking, he seemed to thrust harder as he got closer too.

Sidney refrained from rubbing your clit. He wanted to, yet this was still a punishment.

“Atta girl.” he coaxed. “Keep coming for me, baby. Can you do that?”

You nodded dumbstruck, your eyes crossing deplorably as you kept shaking in bliss.

Sidney was focused on you; he noticed a silver thread of spit leave your bottom lip, your face still roughly pushed against the wall with his force, and he lost it.

“I need to cum, baby, I’m going to cum inside you, fuck.” he hastily groaned.

He growled deeply, thrusting all the way inside you and grinding into his orgasm as his cock let out hot cum within you.

“Fuck, baby, fuck.” his growls were deafening, numbing you and traveling throughout the stuffy air.

As you came down, you could feel him spasming yet inside you, his face still furrowed in a heated sweat - he had bottomed out inside ou, his strong pelvis lifting you a couple of inches off the ground, levitating under his gratification.

Soreness began to overtake you as the pleasure let down, all of Sidney’s muscles relaxing into you with a sigh; your heels clicked as he let you back off the wall slightly, pulling his cock out of you as he was still huffing.

The pain hurt so good for you both, breathing against each other as you tried to catch your breath at the same time.

“Look at me.” he said, turning you around so quickly you could have lost your balance, especially after he fucked you like that. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Seeing his usual sweetness come back made your heart swell, a smile growing on your face.

“I’m okay, Sid.” you said, biting your lip shyly.

“Now, what we’re going to do is…” he began after kissing your forehead, bending down to pull your underwear up, “put these on, keep my cum inside you, okay? Like a good girl, yeah, while we go out and grab a ride to my place. Yeah?”

You nodded, aroused that he wanted to keep this going.

“Good job.” Sidney placed his hand on your lower back, walking you to the door. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[the-moon-cycle]

gothic whore incorrect quotes. i am the chonny jash cinematic universe incorrect quote dealer.

bonus, this time with hmsw because i know you cccc folk go rabid for the 3 kids in a trenchcoat and also The Trenchcoat being friends!

[amethystarachnid]

Hi, this is a request for

MARVEL MULTIVERSE - The Game

I am very interested in Greek mythology AU with Sam Wilson. (Female reader.)

I don't know how much you had planned for it but if you don't have anything planned for now this is what could work: (If you already had something planned, ignore this ^^)

Maybe a slight rivals to lovers? As I have something on the side with him cooking about an OC also using wings but as an owl, maybe something around that.

Thank you :D ✒️

WISDOM

⤷ SAM T. WILSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Sam T. Wilson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, action, fantasy

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Multiverse

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.6k

ᯓ★ Summary: you and Sam never really got along, but maybe things between you two will change if you have to go on a quest together

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ Hi guysss!! I'm back! the fever finally healed and I'm back stronger than ever!!

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The sun dips low over the horizon, a burning ember casting its last golden light across the sprawling cliffs of Mount Olympus. The air is thick with the scent of wild thyme and sun-warmed stone, the distant crash of the sea below a steady rhythm that pulses through the ancient land. You perch at the edge of the precipice, your talons scraping against the rock as your feathers ruffle in the evening breeze. You’ve always preferred this hour—when the day begins to yield to the velvet quiet of night. It is yours, as much as the wings on your back or the keen edge of your sight.

The humans below are lighting their lamps, preparing offerings to the gods. Some, no doubt, will be meant for you. They always pray to you for wisdom, for guidance in the dark. An owl’s keen vision, they say, pierces the shadows where secrets hide. It’s a role you fulfill willingly. Not for them, but for the small spark of satisfaction it brings—to know that when they’re lost, they seek you out.

The sudden rush of air behind you draws your attention, your senses flaring in instinctive alarm. A moment later, a figure lands with an easy grace, the wide sweep of wings folding neatly against a broad back. The feathers gleam dark in the fading light, their edges tipped in a soft bronze that catches the sun’s last rays. You sigh before you’ve even turned to face him.

“Sam,” you say, your voice flat, though your pulse has quickened. “What are you doing here?”

He grins, his expression annoyingly smug. He’s always grinning, as if the world exists solely to amuse him. You’ve often wondered how he can carry such irreverence in the face of divinity—as if being chosen as the God of the Sky is a casual affair, not a mantle that demands respect.

“Can’t a guy enjoy the view?” he says, spreading his arms wide to indicate the sweeping vista behind him. “Figured you might appreciate some company out here, Wisdom.”

You bristle at the nickname. “I don’t need company.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he says, eyeing your solitary perch. “What is it with you and the whole lone-sentinel act? You’re not the only one with wings around here, you know.”

“Your wings are showy,” you snap, your gaze flicking to the sleek expanse of feathers at his back. “Built for speed and spectacle. They’re nothing like mine.”

“Showy?” He places a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know these wings have saved countless mortals from storms, fires, and the occasional poorly aimed lightning bolt. But sure, let’s call them showy.”

You roll your eyes, turning back to the horizon. He always knows how to needle you, to find the exact tone of teasing that leaves you balancing precariously between irritation and… something else. Something you refuse to name.

“What do you want, Sam?”

“You’re no fun, you know that?” he says, stepping closer. His voice softens, just enough that it brushes against your defenses. “I wanted to see if you’d heard.”

“Heard what?” you ask, though you keep your gaze fixed on the distant horizon. You don’t trust him when he’s like this, his usual bluster replaced with something quieter, something that stirs a strange ache in your chest.

“Zeus has called another council.”

Your feathers twitch, betraying your annoyance. “He always calls councils. Half the time, it’s just to hear himself talk.”

“This one’s different,” Sam says, his tone serious now. “Word is, there’s trouble brewing in the mortal world. Something… unnatural.”

That catches your attention. You turn to face him fully, your sharp gaze locking onto his. “Unnatural how?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to find out,” he says. “But you know how these things go. A lot of posturing, a lot of blaming, and not much else.”

“And you came here to warn me?” you ask, suspicion lacing your words. “Why?”

He shrugs, the movement casual, though there’s a flicker of something in his expression that you can’t quite place. “Maybe I figured you’d want a heads-up. Or maybe I just wanted to see the look on your face when I told you.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re predictable,” he shoots back, the grin returning to his lips. “Come on, Wisdom. Don’t tell me you’re not even a little curious.”

You hate that he’s right. You’ve always prided yourself on being above his games, on keeping your distance from his reckless charm. But there’s a spark of intrigue now, a question that won’t be ignored. If there’s something unnatural threatening the mortal world, it’s your duty to understand it, to face it. And if that means enduring Sam’s presence… well, you’ve faced worse challenges.

“Fine,” you say, your voice clipped. “But don’t think this means I’m going to tolerate your nonsense.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes tells you otherwise.

The two of you take flight together, your wings slicing through the cooling air as the night deepens around you. You’ve flown alongside him before, but it’s never felt quite like this. The tension between you is a thread pulled taut, vibrating with each beat of your wings. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, noting the ease with which he moves, the confidence in every motion. It’s infuriating, how effortless he makes it seem.

“Try to keep up, Wisdom,” he calls over the rush of wind, and before you can reply, he dives, a blur of dark feathers and laughter.

You grit your teeth and follow, your wings folding against your sides as you plummet after him. The air tears past you, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sheer exhilaration of the fall. Then you snap your wings open, catching the wind and leveling out beside him. He glances at you, his grin wide and triumphant.

“Not bad,” he says, and you resist the urge to wipe that smug expression off his face.

The two of you streak across the sky, the world below a patchwork of shadows and faint light. You’ve always felt most alive in the air, where the burdens of divinity seem to fall away. And yet, with Sam beside you, there’s an edge to that feeling, a sharpness that leaves you breathless in a way you don’t quite understand.

When you reach the council chamber, the air is thick with tension. The gods are gathered in a semi-circle, their voices a low hum of discontent. Zeus stands at the center, his presence commanding as always, though his expression is grim.

“You’re late,” Athena says as you and Sam enter, her sharp gaze flicking between the two of you.

“Blame him,” you say, jerking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I’ll take full responsibility,” Sam says, his tone light, though his posture is respectful. “Wouldn’t want to tarnish her impeccable reputation.”

Athena sighs, clearly unimpressed, and turns her attention back to Zeus. “Shall we begin?”

Zeus nods, his voice booming as he addresses the assembly. “Mortals have been whispering of strange occurrences. Crops failing overnight, rivers running dry in hours, creatures appearing where they should not exist. These are not the workings of the Fates, nor of any god in this room. Something is amiss.”

The murmurs grow louder, and you exchange a glance with Sam. For once, his expression is serious, his brow furrowed as he listens. It’s a rare thing, to see him so focused, and it sends a ripple of unease through you.

Zeus continues, his gaze sweeping the room. “We must discover the source of this disruption. I will require volunteers to investigate.”

Before you can think better of it, you step forward. “I will go.”

Sam steps forward as well, his voice steady. “So will I.”

The room falls silent, and you can feel the weight of their gazes on you. Zeus nods, his expression approving. “Very well. The two of you shall go together. Find the source of this disturbance and put an end to it.”

You glance at Sam, your heart sinking. Of course it had to be him. This mission was going to be difficult enough without his infuriating presence. But there’s no turning back now. The path ahead is set, and you have no choice but to walk it—or fly it—together.

The mortal world feels strange as you and Sam step into its realm. Your wings, bound and hidden beneath heavy cloaks, feel unnatural, almost stifled. Every step on the uneven dirt road reminds you of the limitation you’ve imposed on yourself for this mission. Beside you, Sam walks with an easy stride, as if being forced to ground himself doesn’t bother him at all.

“You’re quiet,” he says, his voice low enough to blend with the evening breeze.

“Observation requires silence,” you reply curtly, your eyes scanning the horizon. The village where you’re supposed to start your investigation is just ahead, its cluster of thatched-roof houses dimly lit under the fading light of the sun.

Sam chuckles softly. “You can’t just say you don’t want to talk to me?”

“I thought that much was obvious.”

Despite your tone, his grin widens. He always seems amused when you’re short with him, which only irritates you more. But there’s no time for bickering now. The closer you get to the village, the heavier the air feels, thick with unease. You glance at Sam, and his face is serious for once, his jaw tight as he surveys the scene ahead.

The two of you enter the village cautiously, careful to keep your steps measured and your faces neutral. The streets are nearly deserted, and the few people you see hurry past without making eye contact. It’s a stark contrast to the lively villages you’re accustomed to, where mortals chatter and laugh late into the night.

“Something’s definitely wrong here,” Sam mutters, his gaze flicking between the shadows.

You nod. “We’ll find out more in the morning. For now, we need somewhere to stay.”

It doesn’t take long to find the village’s only inn, a small, creaky building with a faded sign swinging above the door. The innkeeper eyes you suspiciously as you step inside, his gaze lingering on your cloaks. You lower your hood slightly, revealing just enough of your face to disarm him.

“Travelers?” he asks, his voice gruff.

“Yes,” you reply. “We need a room for the night.”

His eyes dart to Sam, then back to you, before he nods. “Only one left.”

You sigh internally, already anticipating the argument that’s sure to come. But before you can say anything, Sam slides a coin across the counter and gives the man an easy smile.

“We’ll take it.”

The innkeeper hands over a key and mutters directions to the room. You follow Sam up the narrow stairs, your irritation simmering just below the surface. When you reach the room, you stop in the doorway, taking in the sight of the single, narrow bed pushed against the far wall.

“Perfect,” you say dryly.

Sam shrugs, dropping his pack onto the floor. “Hey, it’s better than sleeping outside.”

You glare at him. “I’ll take the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, leaning against the bedpost. “You’ll be sore and miserable tomorrow, and we need to be at our best.”

“Then you take the floor,” you counter.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor either,” he says with a grin. “Guess we’ll have to share.”

Your feathers bristle beneath your cloak, but you keep your expression neutral. You don’t have the energy to argue further, and you know he’s right\u2014you’ll need to be rested for whatever comes next.

“Fine,” you say tightly. “But stay on your side.”

Sam chuckles, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Promise.”

You roll your eyes and turn away, slipping off your cloak and carefully tucking it into a corner. Without your wings bound, you feel slightly more at ease, though the thought of sharing a bed with Sam keeps your nerves on edge.

The two of you settle in awkwardly, lying as far apart as the narrow bed allows. You keep your back to him, your body rigid as you stare at the wall. For a while, the room is silent except for the faint creak of the inn and the occasional muffled sound from outside.

“Relax, Wisdom,” Sam says softly after a while. His voice is closer than you expect, and you can feel the warmth of him just behind you.

“I am relaxed,” you reply stiffly.

“Sure you are,” he says, his tone teasing but gentle.

You don’t respond, focusing instead on slowing your breathing. Eventually, your exhaustion begins to catch up with you, and your body starts to soften against the mattress.

When you wake in the middle of the night, the room is dark, the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the cracks in the shutters. It takes you a moment to realize why you feel so warm, so\u2026 comfortable. Then you notice the arm draped over your waist, the steady rise and fall of Sam’s chest pressed against your back.

Your first instinct is to pull away, but something stops you. He's holding you loosely, his body relaxed and unguarded in sleep. It's an intimacy you never expected from him, and for a moment, you let yourself simply feel it. The heat of his skin, the softness of his breath against your hair, it's almost enough to make you forget who you are, what you are.

But the moment doesn't last. Your mind catches up with your heart, and you shift carefully, trying to extricate yourself without waking him.

“Y/N?” His voice is groggy, barely more than a whisper.

You freeze, caught. “Go back to sleep,” you mutter.

He hums softly, his arm tightening around you just slightly. “You're warm,” he murmurs, his words slurring with sleep.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you don't trust yourself to speak. Instead, you lie still, willing your breathing to slow. It takes a long time for your racing thoughts to settle, but eventually, sleep finds you again, this time, with Sam's warmth still wrapped around you.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of birds outside the window and the faint glow of dawn creeping into the room. Sam is already awake, leaning on one elbow as he watches you with an unreadable expression.

“Morning,” he says, his voice soft but teasing. “Sleep well?”

You push yourself upright, your cheeks burning as you avoid his gaze. “Don’t read into it,” you say quickly. “It was an accident.”

“Sure it was,” he says, his grin widening.

You groan, shoving the blanket off and standing. “Come on. We have work to do.”

As you gather your things and prepare to face the day, you can feel his eyes on you, his presence a steady weight that you can’t ignore. This quest is going to be far more complicated than you anticipated, and not just because of the danger lurking in the mortal world.

The village stretches before you in the muted light of dawn, its narrow paths and crooked buildings casting long shadows across the dirt roads. Despite its eerie stillness, there’s an energy beneath the surface, a tension that vibrates in the air like a string pulled taut. You and Sam move through the streets side by side, cloaks drawn tightly to obscure your wings. His presence is a steady weight at your side, grounding you even as your senses remain alert for the slightest sign of trouble.

The innkeeper had mentioned strange occurrences—livestock disappearing without a trace, fields blighted overnight, people vanishing into the forest and never returning. There’s no clear pattern, no sense of what might be causing it, only an underlying fear that has driven the villagers to the edge. You suspect the answer lies deeper than what mortal eyes can see, and it’s your responsibility to uncover it.

Sam stops suddenly, his hand brushing your arm to catch your attention. His gaze is fixed on a group of villagers gathered near the well, their faces tight with worry as they speak in hushed tones. You glance at him, and he gives a small nod, a silent agreement to approach together.

The villagers stiffen as you draw near, their eyes darting to your cloaks. You’ve learned how to carry yourself among mortals without drawing too much attention, but their wariness is palpable.

“We’re travelers,” you say, keeping your voice calm and even. “We heard about the troubles in your village and wanted to offer our help.”

A man steps forward, his face lined with age and worry. He studies you carefully, his gaze lingering on Sam before returning to you. “What kind of help could strangers offer? The gods themselves seem to have turned their backs on us.”

“Perhaps the gods haven’t turned away,” Sam says, his tone light but firm. “Perhaps they’ve sent help without you realizing.”

The man narrows his eyes, clearly unconvinced, but another voice cuts in before he can respond.

“They vanished into the forest last night,” a woman says, her voice trembling. “Three of them. My son among them. There was no sound, no struggle—just gone.”

You exchange a glance with Sam. The forest. It’s always the forest. In every tale of danger and despair, it’s the place where shadows deepen, where answers lie hidden beneath layers of mystery and fear.

“Take us to the edge of the forest,” you say. “We’ll look for them.”

The villagers hesitate, their fear a tangible thing that hangs in the air between you. Finally, the older man nods, gesturing for you to follow.

The walk to the forest is tense, the silence broken only by the crunch of dirt beneath your boots and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. When you reach the treeline, the man stops, his face pale as he stares into the shadowy depths.

“This is as far as we go,” he says. “If you’re wise, you’ll turn back too.”

“We’ll manage,” Sam says with a confidence that seems to unnerve the man further.

The villagers retreat, leaving the two of you alone at the forest’s edge. The air here is different, heavier, as if the trees themselves are watching. You feel a shiver run through you, not from fear but from the strange energy that pulses beneath your skin.

“You feel it too,” Sam says, his voice low.

You nod. “It’s not mortal. Something else is here.”

Without another word, you step into the forest, the canopy above swallowing the light and plunging you into a world of shadow and whispers.

The deeper you go, the stronger the presence becomes, a thrumming energy that prickles against your skin. The forest is unnaturally quiet, the usual sounds of birds and insects replaced by an oppressive stillness. You keep your senses sharp, your eyes scanning the underbrush and your ears straining for the faintest sound.

Sam walks close beside you, his usual lighthearted demeanor replaced by a quiet focus. It’s strange to see him like this, all of his attention honed in on the task at hand. You’d always thought of him as reckless, too carefree to take anything seriously, but now you’re beginning to see another side of him.

“Stay close,” he says suddenly, his voice soft but firm.

“I’m not a child, Sam,” you reply, bristling at his tone.

“Didn’t say you were,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Just don’t want anything sneaking up on you. You know, since you’re so predictable.”

You glare at him, but the faint amusement in his eyes disarms you. For a moment, the tension between you eases, and you allow yourself a small smile in return.

The moment is short-lived. A sound ripples through the forest, low and guttural, like the growl of a predator. You freeze, your hand instinctively moving to the hidden weapon at your side. Sam steps in front of you, his body tense as he scans the trees.

“Did you hear that?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Stay behind me.”

Before you can argue, something moves in the shadows—a blur of motion too fast to track. You barely have time to react before it lunges at you, a creature of sinew and shadow with glowing eyes that burn like embers.

Sam moves faster than you thought possible, his body a blur as he meets the creature head-on. His blade flashes in the dim light, slicing through the air with precision. The creature snarls, its movements erratic and unnatural, but Sam holds his ground, his strength and skill undeniable.

You shake off your shock and draw your own weapon, moving to flank the creature. Together, you and Sam fight as if you’ve done this a thousand times before, your movements instinctively synchronized. The creature is relentless, but it’s no match for the two of you. With one final strike, it lets out a piercing screech and dissolves into nothingness, leaving behind only the faint scent of sulfur.

You lower your weapon, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. Sam turns to you, his face flushed but triumphant.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern.

“I’m fine,” you reply, though your hands are still trembling. “What was that?”

“Something unnatural,” he says grimly. “Zeus wasn’t kidding about this.”

You glance at him, your irritation forgotten in the wake of the battle. For the first time, you feel a flicker of gratitude for his presence. Whatever lies ahead, you’re glad you don’t have to face it alone.

The rest of the day is a blur of tension and discovery. You and Sam uncover more signs of the creatures’ presence—claw marks on trees, patches of scorched earth, and the faint remnants of an otherworldly energy that clings to the air like smoke.

By the time night falls, you’re both exhausted, your bodies aching from the strain of the day. You find a small clearing and decide to make camp, the fire you build casting flickering shadows across the trees.

As you sit beside the flames, the silence between you feels less heavy now, less strained. There’s an unspoken understanding in the way you pass each other food, in the way Sam adjusts his cloak to shield you from the chill.

“You fought well today,” you say quietly, surprising yourself with the admission.

“So did you,” he replies, his voice warm. “Not bad for someone who’s ‘predictable.’”

You huff a laugh, the sound surprising you both. For a moment, the tension between you fades, replaced by something softer, something that feels almost like trust.

When you finally lie down to rest, the danger of the day lingers at the edges of your thoughts, but Sam’s presence is a steady comfort.

The forest feels endless, the thick canopy above blotting out the sun and casting everything in shadow. Days blur together as you and Sam press forward, following the faint trail of devastation left by the creatures. Every step deeper into the woods feels heavier, the oppressive energy seeping into your bones. Whatever force drives these monsters, it’s ancient and powerful, far beyond what you initially expected.

The attacks grow more frequent. It’s as if the creatures sense you’re getting closer to the source, their aggression increasing with every skirmish. The battles leave you winded and bruised, your divine strength tested in ways you hadn’t imagined. Even Sam, with all his confidence and skill, is beginning to show signs of wear. Still, he pushes forward, his determination unwavering.

You try to ignore how often his focus shifts to you—how his eyes flicker to check on you during fights, how his hand brushes yours when the silence stretches too long. It’s disarming, the way he looks at you like you’re more than just his rival, more than just another god forced to endure this quest. You don’t know how to process it, so you bury the thoughts deep and concentrate on the mission.

The final confrontation comes without warning. One moment, you and Sam are navigating a narrow ravine, the air thick with the scent of moss and damp earth. The next, the ground trembles beneath your feet, and the creatures emerge, their forms twisting and shifting like shadows given life. These are not like the ones you’ve faced before. They’re larger, more feral, their movements faster than your eyes can track.

You barely have time to draw your weapon before they’re on you. The battle is chaos, a blur of flashing claws and snarling teeth. You and Sam fight as one, your movements synchronized in a way that feels almost instinctual now. You’ve learned to anticipate each other’s actions, to move in tandem like two halves of a whole.

But even with your combined strength, the creatures are relentless. One swipes at your side, its claws tearing through your cloak and leaving a jagged gash across your ribs. You grit your teeth against the pain and strike back, your blade finding its mark. Beside you, Sam takes a blow to the shoulder, the force of it sending him stumbling before he recovers and drives his sword through the creature’s chest.

The fight feels endless, each second stretching into an eternity. You’re bleeding, your body aching with the strain of battle, but you refuse to falter. Beside you, Sam is equally battered, his movements slowing as exhaustion takes its toll.

Then, finally, the tide turns. With one final, desperate effort, you drive your blade into the heart of the largest creature. Its body convulses, a horrific screech tearing through the air before it collapses and dissolves into ash. The remaining creatures falter, their connection to the source severed. One by one, they fall, their forms dissipating into nothingness.

The silence that follows is deafening. You stand there, chest heaving, your weapon still clutched tightly in your hand. Blood drips from the wound at your side, staining the ground beneath you. Sam is equally battered, his armor dented and his face smeared with dirt and blood.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The realization of what you’ve done, what you’ve survived, crashes over you like a tidal wave. The euphoria is overwhelming, a rush of relief and triumph that leaves you dizzy.

Before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you and throw your arms around Sam. He catches you instinctively, his arms wrapping around you as you bury your face in his shoulder. His body is warm and solid against yours, grounding you in the chaos of your emotions.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you upright. When you finally pull back, your hands still rest on his shoulders, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

His eyes meet yours, wide with something that looks like shock. For once, he’s speechless, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. You’re not sure who moves first, whether it’s you or him, but suddenly the space between you disappears.

His lips press against yours, warm and urgent, and the world falls away. The pain, the exhaustion, the forest around you—it all fades into nothingness. There’s only Sam, his hands steady on your waist, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that takes you by surprise.

You don’t know how long the kiss lasts. It could be seconds or hours, but when you finally pull back, you’re both breathless. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours for some kind of answer.

“Was that—” he starts, his voice rough, but you cut him off with another kiss, softer this time.

When you pull back again, you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Shut up, Sam.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and for the first time, you feel the weight of your rivalry dissolve completely. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll face it together—and for now, that’s enough.

The ascent to Olympus is both triumphant and wearying. After days of trekking through mortal lands and battling shadows, your bodies ache with fatigue, yet victory fuels each step. The air grows lighter as you near the summit, the golden halls of the gods shimmering in the distance, their brilliance blinding after the dim forest.

Sam walks beside you, his cloak billowing in the crisp wind. His wounds, though tended to, still show faint traces of the battles you’ve endured. His steps are sure, though his occasional glances at you betray a quiet worry, as if even now he fears for your well-being. It’s a side of him you never expected to see, one that has burrowed deep into your thoughts and refuses to leave.

When you finally reach the gates of Olympus, the other gods await you. Their eyes are bright with curiosity and perhaps a hint of respect. Even Apollo, lounging against one of the golden pillars, seems to straighten slightly as you and Sam stride forward.

Zeus rises from his throne, his imposing figure framed by the glow of lightning that seems to pulse around him. He regards you both with a mixture of approval and something sterner, his gaze lingering on the faint scars and bruises you carry.

“You have returned,” Zeus says, his voice booming across the courtyard. “And victorious, no less. I confess I had my doubts, but you have proven yourselves worthy.”

“Was there ever a question?” Sam quips, though there’s no malice in his tone. His smile is easy, but you catch the tension in his shoulders as he stands before the King of the Gods.

Zeus’s lips twitch, as if suppressing a smile. “You’ve done more than I asked. The creatures that plagued the mortals are no more, and the balance is restored. For that, I owe you a debt.”

He steps forward, his presence dominating the space. “For your bravery and sacrifice, I will grant each of you one wish. Whatever lies within my power to give, it shall be yours.”

The offer hangs in the air, heavy with promise. The other gods lean in, their curiosity palpable. It’s rare for Zeus to grant such a boon, and you can feel their eyes on you, waiting to see what you will ask for.

You open your mouth, but Sam speaks first, his voice steady and clear. “I know what I want.”

Zeus nods, gesturing for him to continue.

“I wish to marry her,” Sam says, and your heart stops. His eyes meet yours, unwavering, as if daring you to object. “I want to build a life with her, not just as gods but as equals. And I wish for a domain of our own—a place where we can rule together, as others worship and honor us, just as they do the rest of you.”

A stunned silence falls over the courtyard. You can feel the weight of every gaze, every whisper of disbelief and curiosity. Even Zeus looks momentarily taken aback, his brow furrowing as he studies Sam.

“You ask for much,” Zeus says, his tone measured. “To bind yourself to another god is no small request. And a domain of your own… Where would you lay claim?”

Sam stands tall, his confidence unshaken. “The winds,” he says simply. “The skies already belong to you, Zeus, but the winds are untamed, wild and free. Let us rule them together. Let them carry the prayers of mortals to the heavens. Let them be ours.”

Zeus considers this, his gaze flickering to you. “And what of you? Is this your wish as well?”

You can hardly breathe. The weight of Sam’s words presses down on you, your mind reeling. You’ve spent so much of your existence keeping others at arm’s length, refusing to let anyone get too close. But now, standing before the gods, Sam’s proposal laid bare for all to see, you realize the truth.

You want this. You want him.

“Yes,” you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. “It is my wish as well.”

Zeus nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “So be it.”

He raises his hand, and the air around you shifts, crackling with divine energy. The sky above darkens momentarily, the winds whipping around you in a frenzy before they suddenly calm. You feel the power settle into your bones, a new connection to the world around you, as if the very air has become an extension of your being.

“It is done,” Zeus declares. “You are now gods of the winds, your domain as vast and untamed as the skies themselves. As for your union…” He pauses, a faint smile curling his lips. “Let it be known across Olympus and the mortal world alike. You shall be husband and wife, partners in rule and in life.”

The gods erupt into applause, some more enthusiastic than others. Aphrodite claps her hands together, a pleased smile on her face, while Ares merely grunts in approval. Even Athena gives a small nod, her sharp gaze softening as she looks at you and Sam.

Sam turns to you, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite name. He extends his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, you take it. His grip is warm and steady, grounding you in a way that nothing else ever has.

“Guess we’re stuck with each other now,” he says, his grin crooked but genuine.

You laugh, the sound light and free. “Guess so.”

As the gods continue their celebration, you and Sam stand together, the weight of your new roles settling over you. But for the first time in a long time, you feel at peace. Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know you’ll face them together. And for now, that’s enough.

[aloneatpeace]

Cosmic Chaos

Chapter 27

Hey guys hope you all are doing well healthy and taking care of yourself, hope you like this chapter and please let me know what you think please reblog, like and interact with me it helps me to write. don't be silent reader show your support to the authors and their work it really appreciated by us and keep us motivated, have a good reading, much love 💕 really sorry for slow updates been busy with life and class.

Your author

SC

.→✒️:★: ͜͡✿͜͡ →. Happy new year y'all wishing this might be easier and favorable for y'all .❤️

           ─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

There is no pain of the pierced arrow stuck on your chest, the burning wound and pulsing subside into nothing, the heavy weight that pulled you to deeper and deeper to a void, the warm hands tugging you unknown is no longer there. The crimson river that you were drowning in now feels empty and dry.

you open your eyes feeling the sunlight falls on your face awaking you from the soothing slumber. You're in home one that you don't know but feels like it's yours. You run your hands through the bed the empty side of bed has lingering warmth that belong to someone.

The bell ring alerting that someone at the door, you walk towards the front door opening it a guy around your age stands there you tilt your head at the stranger.

"Hey there, I just moved next door." the guy says with a charming smile, his blue eyes shining he has brown hair standing taller than you, his face is unfamiliar

"Peter" but his soul is not. His smile falls his whole demeanor changes he let out a small laugh amused at the situation.

You open the door wide welcoming him, walking towards the living room peter let himself make comfortable on the sofa.

"You never failed to amuse me." He looks around the house "I guess this not my doing but yours."

You shake your head "Not exactly."

He raises a questioning look "what do you mean?" the house starts to dissolve fading into nothingness peter stands up walking towards you as everything around you turns into pitch black.

"This." The rushing something cutting through air reaches your ears, peter head turns to the sources of sounds. Various red glow in orbs float around you in each glob images of a women in red suit appears. "I have these unreal dreams of this women since I got my powers"

Peter hands glide through one branch "but this feels like you." indeed it feels like you, your power that once surged through him an unmistakable feeling, one that like no other.

You nod your chest tighten when one of the orb glows gets bigger it shows a woman, a red head walking along with her brother.

"Who is that guy?" peter ask out loud wondering what the man with strange appearance.

The guy he's referring to is someone you saw in your dreams few times his name is Pietro, and he calls the women Wanda. "that's her brother.". the image in front of you changes into them fighting army of robots along with people who seems to have variety of ability and power.

"What is this?"

The both of you watch as the image plays in front of you though peter didn't understand you seen how her parents died because the stark weapon and being trapped under rumbles for days, surviving on their on all while going through grief only to become experiment subjects and later on become puppet to those in power.

Wanda stands guarding the core "get the people on boats" she says to her brother, he sighs "I am not leaving without you." he says. "I can handle it." she says as she rips apart a robot that charged towards her with her magic. Pietro looks at his sister with mischievous smile. "You know I'm twelve minutes older than you." he sarcastically says walking backwards Wanda chuckles at his antics with a smile she utters "Go." While taking the people to safety Clint Barton who carrying a child in his arms get shotted by the robot Barton shields the child intending to sacrifice himself to save the child, but Pietro comes speeding pushing a vehicle to save them in doing so he gets shotted several times his body covered in bullet as blood wounds getting visible. Wanda feeling her twin brother dies breaks down in tears destroying the boats around with surge of red psionic blast.

You understand her anger, her grief, her lust for revenge for those who made her and Her brothers' life. And its feels like your heart is ripping out when you see Pietro falls limp on the battle ground you can yourself inside her when she broke down waling loudly for her twin. It's too much that you didn't realize the rest of branches grow bigger and a glass wall starts to build around you.

Wanda knelt down in front of Ultron looking grim and hallowed eyes were devoid of life, her movements were calculated "Wanda if you stayed here, you'll die." "I just did. Do you know how it felt.?" Using a mist of her power she rips out Ultron's heart. "It felt like that." More visuals of the same feeling manifest in front of you, if you felt like you just experience the worst feeling of grief nothing could've prepared you for when she had to kill vision herself for "I can't do this, vis." ..................... "It shouldn't be you but it is." ..................... "I only feel you."

the sake of universe only to see him killed again when Thanos turns times back and rip the mind stone off vision. Your breathing gets heavier.

Peter was observing all this see the glass wall trying to trap the both of you with the endless torture of this women that he doesn't know. "Okey, we are going to end this." His words don't seem to reach your ears but when he moves to pull you out, he gets thrown out and wall grow trying to trap you in this emotional misery to suffer alone, to bare the pain.

Your heart aches when she comes back to life only to be thrusted into fight again,

"You took everything from me." ..................... "I don't even know who you are." ..................... "You will." ..................... "You can't do this him. I just wanna bury him." "The thing is he's not yours." "I can't feel you."

crushing what is left of her soul after seeing vision's body being treated as weapon. When she desperately tries to keep the family, she created being taken away, her children being taken away.

"Mom! Help us!" "MOM!" With everything lost, losing herself as she turns to the darkhold as last chance of being happy, being with her family. "It won't be Wanda that's coming for her it will be the scarlet witch." "I begged you to Get. Out. OF. MY. Way. "You have exhausted my patience now, but I do hope ...you understand ... this is me being... Reasonable." She becomes something that she never wanted to be, the bloods she spilled, the souls she taken, the destruction she caused across the multiverse. All to become fruitless in the end. Seeing her sons scared of herself, the fear in their eyes, the realization her eyes that made you fall on your knees. "Please don't hurt us" "Please " "I would never hurt you. Never " "I would never hurt anyone. I'm not a monster. I'm a...I'm" ..................... "Know that they'll be loved"

"No....no...no...stop...stop..." the images start to change as the younger version of you with your parents and brother. You close your eyes with scream begging who ever doing this to stop. Peter banging on the glass yelling at you get out. Your eyes find him disparate for his help to save from this endless sick game.

"You need to get out."

"I can't." your voice came out weak "Please make it stop."

Peter bangs his fist into the wall trying to break the glass, but it does nothing, you feel like your heart is burning and being plucked out of your body. Just then the stiles screaming your name echoes and the glass break, the red mist fade and you and peter fall into emptiness as everything around you starts dissolve into nothingness.

There is no voice in your head screaming at you anymore, it feels like storm had finally ended the waves started becoming clam and gentle. Peter land on his feet looking around now the white surrounding. He finds you laying on the ground hurrying towards you, you're breathing had gone to normal almost like you are pulled into sweet slumber after whatever just happened.

You feel like someone slowly touching your cheeks, light caressing and muffled voice calling out your name it's not stiles or scott. Opening your eyes blurred face of peter's face greet your vision his lips move but it doesn't fully reach your ears clearly. Finally, the haze lifted you can clearly see his face and hear his voice.

"A warning before you do something like that would be appreciated greatly." He sits beside you pulling you up by your shoulders with ease.

"You alright?" his uncharacteristic concern throws you off sending suspicion signals in your head but you nod, nonetheless.

"Where are we?" looking around the all-white surrounding that you and peter is in.

He follows your movement "Well I guess where are in your head."

"Why are you in my head? am I dead?" your hands go to the side your neck to feel the carotid pulse letting out relief sigh when you feel sensation.

"Well, lots of things happened since you got shoot. Which was very stupid of you by the way." He props his leg up look at you partially amused and confused. "Did you forget derek is werewolf. He could have walked it off unlike you."

Your hands instantly shot up to where the arrow pierced but there is no mark of the wound, and no blood at all, you don't feel sting either. "I don't know either why I did that."

Peter thinks for a moment before asking more question "Why didn't you use your power. What exactly where you are thinking then?"

You look at your hands the face of Allison as she held bow aimed at derek how determined she looked ready to let the arrow go without hesitation and how weak derek looked atter you saved him from the cellar.

"I didn't want anything happen to either of them." you glance at him "and I'm still learning about my powers. What happened after that."

Peter nods his eyes never leaving you, he doesn't know if you know how your thoughts seem to linked to him very clearly, like when you first touched him and unknowingly give him access to your thoughts, he will keep this information himself for now "I killed Kate Argent, and your nerd friend lit me in fire and derek slit my throat."

"You're not surprised." He adds.

"No, but disappointed at derek then again who am I to meddle your family business."

He gives you a grin "Nephew would beg to differ." He sighs "enough about that are we not going to talk about what happened few minutes ago?"

You tilt your head at him dismissing his question "How are you in my head?"

"Oh, remember when I scratched your shoulder and how you and I speak telepathically and now I'm here because we are bounded now." He lets you change the subject answering without hesitation.

You narrow eyes at him "And why exactly you did that?"

Peter innocently grins at you "Because you're my favorite out of everyone."

"Try again."

He rolls his eyes at you lean back on his hands "Fine, because you are my backup plan. You can bring me back to life."

"I just got myself killed. I barely know about my power; how can I perform resurrection?" you huff mirroring peters sitting.

Peter sits straight scotting towards you his eyes gleam with mischievousness like he knows something you don't. "That's where you wrong, you're not dead and I can help you discover the peak of your power. You truly don't how powerful you can be if you have the knowledge."

You scoff standing up "why would I need your help; I have grams and bonnie and my friends." Walking around the white walls though you don't even know how to get out.

Peter stands up as well falling in steps with his quick stride "Sure they can help. But they don't the insight your powers like did."

Halting in you turns to him hands crossed over your chest "What are you spouting." He grins at you and walks around leaving you behind.

"You don't know how to get out of here even though you created whatever this is place is. You let yourself almost get killed because you thought you will hurt Allsion if you use your power, it wasn't because you were afraid of exposing yourself to her. what happened few moments ago is also you're doing because you don't know how to control your power it only ended because in the real-world stiles called out. You're using others as anchor" he turns to you his eyes gleamed in pride a smug grin on his lips he can feel your walls breaking "while it's not bad for us, it is for you because your power feed of your emotion, it wasn't your grief that made you cut yourself now I know that. It whoever that woman is, it was her pain now I don't know how you and her connected but it's obvious you and her share some bond."

His eyes soften at your vulnerable state how you gripped your hands in fist chest heaving, holding back tears, walking towards you the smug grin no longer on his lips.

"Your power is nothing like that exist on the world. You don't need fear your powers or yourself. You need to believe you can control it because it the truth. While your emotion does intensify your power,  you also need to think through the haze otherwise..." peter glance behind you and there the next wave of mist coming like furious storm

"I'll end up like her." you complete what he hesitated at the end "How do I do it.?" he turns to it. you feel yourself to starts to panic.

Peter holds on to your shoulder "Don't fight it. don't stop it. don't hold it. let it wash over you. just stand strong." He rubs smooth circle around your shoulder to calm you down.

The mist covers the both of you and branches of Wanda's life manifest itself. You see Wanda and her brother in their respective cells after the experiments, walking around the town. Her sitting on bed with vision beside her after her brother's death how he comforted her. you out of fear shut your eye you don't feel peter near you opening your eyes you are inside it and in front of you sit wand and vision

"I'm so tired. It's...its's just like this wave washing over me, again and again. It knocks me down, and when I try to stand up, it just comes for me again. And I...its just gonna down me. "No. it won't." "Yeah. How do you know?" "Well, it can't be all sorrow, can it? I've always been alone, so I don't feel the lack. It's all ive ever known, I've never experienced loss because I never had a loved one to lose. But what is grief if not love persevering" Wanda and vision tuck their children to bed she sits beside one of her son's beds "You know, a family is forever. We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried. " She kisses their forehead walking out the room before glancing at from the doorstep with a loving look on her face. "Boys, thank you for choosing to be your mom." Wanda and vision stand on living room saying their final goodbye "Wanda, I know we can't stay like this. But before I go. I feel I must know. what am I?" She cares his cheeks tear build up in her eyes as she gazes at her lover "You. vision, are the piece of the mind stone that lives in me. You are the body of wires and blood and bone that I created. You are my sadness and my hope. And mostly you're my love." "I have been a voice with no body. A body but not human, and now a memory made real. Who knows what I might be next?" "We have said goodbye to each other before, so it stands to a reason." "We will say hello again." "So long... darling."

You're transported back to the last of her time, Wanda sits on the sacrificial stone looking at the rotting corpse "I opened the darkhold. I have to close it. no one will ever be tempted by the darkhold." She destroys the throne soon the stone and rubles fall on her.

Everything around you turn dark you are left in pitch black you try to adject your eyes to see anything and just then a red glow emits from the corner and there she stands and she's looking....at you?

She is indeed looking at you, her face void of emotion like she doesn't feel anything any longer, you don't know when you started running towards her suddenly, you're embracing her and you breaking down hands holding her like your life depends on it, like you're making sure she is real. Uncontrollable streams of tears leave your eye for what reason you don't know.

You can hear yourself letting out strings of sorry and you don't even know what you are sorry for, are you sorry of her lose her brother? sorry for being experimented? treated like weapon? sorry for having to kill her lover? sorry for having to watch her lover get killed? sorry for her death? sorry for her children? sorry for everything that happened?

Or how you unable to help her, to ease her pain, to hold her when she didn't have anyone.

You truly don't know.

Calming yourself down you break the hug your eyes gaze at her you can see her sadness, her pain, her loneliness and yourself in her eyes.

"How did you hold it all in" your voice is soft like you're talking to a little girl; with warmth and tenderness you caress her cheeks.

"I'm sorry...I wish I could bear all your sadness, take away your pain and sufferings." She leans into your touch. "Life been so unfair to you Wanda."

"I want to help, how can I help you?" she gives smile, and its most beautiful smile you ever seen.

"I know you want to give me the life I wanted but it okey now. I found my peace now." Her voice sooth something in you. she takes your wrist in her hands tracing the scar on your skin "I could never give you my pain, it wouldn't be fair to you either."

"Our fate is intertwined through galaxies, but I wish you never have to go through what I did. Do you know who you are?" she asks.

"I do now."

She cares your cheeks pulling your forehead to hers, a string of red mist wrap around both of you. "You and I are the same, destined to the same fate but I can't allow that to happen. You deserve to be happy in this universe. Please do not end up like me, I am giving you my knowledge and life to defy the fate, change it. find your happiness."

You can feel your body get warm and her slipping through your finger, you breath sharply as the warmth invade into your very being.

Peter sigh in relief when you finally open your eyes, when the mist came you gone limp in his arms soon after unconscious but unlike previously the surrounding didn't break like, but the mist was present, but it was clam.

"I think, I should really wake up now."

Series masterlist

Taglist are open

@notaceventura

[starzgaze]

Hai Haii!

Random question: you know the Types of people as Animals?? ie. The black cat, golden retriever, golden cat, black lab, ext.

Okay so what type of person do you think Jinwoo, Thomas Andre, Liu Zhigang and Cha hae in are? (Add any other character too if you want)

Also here's a link to a uquiz that started this decent into madness ahhdbd :

https://uquiz.com/quiz/Hg8xGo?p=3738430

Or you can search -> Are you a Black Cat or a Golden Retriever? By miacathart

(I got Golden Cat as a result btw if your curious.)

Honestly no pressure. You kinda seem like your going through it so I thought this could be a silly thing to cheer you up, even for a moment.

cheers,

✒️ nonnie

HII ✒️ NONNIE and erhrhrh dw about me im just err... going through it TOT but nice to see you again www also you're a golden cat?? so like... orange... right... u and me r twins

anyway yeahh!! i know about that and i think i got like... golden cat or orange cat in some quizzes and i meaan yeah I'm low-key air headed something is in my head and its not my brain nonnie!!

oh I've thought about that i think like wayyy way back i think it's like widely accepted that jinwoo is a black cat and i mean... i also agree but not the fact his whole fashion sense is just black black black but there's symbolism here and there such as black cats are seen as a symbol of death or bad luck is looming over you, mostly negative symbolism or ties with death which is fitting for our shadow monarch

not to mention have you seen those cat videos in the internet? especially the black cat videos where sometimes they're basically liquid and merges with their surroundings if it's reallyyy dark? yeah that's jinwoo can't convince otherwise, also the attitude?? jinwoo is a teeny weeny atleast sassy atleast, it's funny though.

also he fits it over all vibe too, he seems pretty distant at first but once he warms up and garners affection for you he wouldn't leave you alone even if he seems a bit distant.

for thomas I personally think he would be a dog type but not particularly a golden retriever or black lab either, probably a different breed of big dog that's purposely high maintenance and difficult to take care but also fiercly protective and loyal just how he is. probably a great Pyrenees or dogs that's mistakened as a lion or some big animal lmfaoo

he's huge and wild bro!! a bit violent here and there but it was mostly out of survival for him and his guildmates. other than that though i imagine he's a lovable guy like probably really nice to hug and hang around with like a big dog, not to mention he sort of has the attitude of one if you squint.

okay listen to me with zhigang. that man is not any of the listed animals if I'm being fr... zhigang would be a rooster... hear me out

actually not really a rooster only i had some other ideas or for other animals but none of them were mammals and mostly birds soo, he would be a bird. zhigang's personality is PROBABLY extroverted and a bit loud but it's fine because its liu zhigang

he seems to be a morning person to me, being a martial artist enthusiast and all. it's part of his routine to wake up early and drag any unfortunate person to his morning exercise and stretches that is soul crushing from how painful it is. also don't even try to sleep through his first call out to you for the morning exercise, he will become your personal rooster so just you can accompany him.

cha hae-in.... i honestly think she's a white cat just to contrast jinwoo but she's more of an angel to be with in general or I'm just biased to girls... anyway she seems more aloof and quiet compared to an orange cat or any dog breed except for a few probably but to me she's a cat from just how she strut in those panels lmfaoo

she seems to be the type to just space out or listen to you quietly before giving her own advice. hae-in is also elegant like a white cat bro have you seen her move or act? she's so poise and pretty especially when fighting with a sword.

but also she acts like a cat with her quiet... judging eyes or maybe out of the blue truthful words like cats that literally just swats you for no reason, just like how hae-in is with her advice that sometimes seem too blunt at times. (probably a reason why jong-in doesn't let her deal with conferences) but she's a great friend to be with! gentle and kind like a white cat heuughh i love her cutie patootie she's a girls girl

okay last one i talked about this one with some people and I'm sure about jinchul being a dog type but i have some thoughts on what type he would be or what breed. now that I've thought more about it, shiba inu would fit him ya know? intelligent dogs that's known for saving it's owners from danger and calamities just how jinchul save hunters and try to protect them and alsoo sort of has a resemblance to them lmfao

but he also fits being a border collie! that dog breed is known for herding sheep and protecting stuff! the breed is alert, loyal, and intelligent soo yeah i can also see jinchul being this type of dog too lmfaoo but probably an older one too just seeing how low-key tired he is judging from in game dialogue you can see whenever you meet him inside of the lobby

he's protective and attentive so what's not there to love? he's soo pookie I'm gonna squeeze him into a pulp someone stop me

also extra my sister told me she sees jinwoo as a ferret and i mean.. i see it actually and all this animal personality talk made me wanna do a hybrid au with these cutie pies i have ideas running in my head now

[badpersonboogie]

Just read all of the Song Of Your Heart posts. Thinking about Jayce and Viktors first time having sex.

The killer has a knife to his throat. He'd never actually hurt him. Never. But he's so, so desperate. He can't take it anymore. Just one night. So he threatens him, he knows Viktor will comply because what fighting chance does he have? Viktor is obviously terrified. Shaking, horror.

Viktor who felt nothing but sheer terror at first but the longer it went the more he began to enjoy it to his own dismay. The killer was so gentle, so loving, so careful. He actually made him feel good. Really good. He was ashamed of over moan and pleased squirm but the killer just praised him softly every time.

Seeing the way the bulge shifted in his stomach made both of them lose their minds. Jayce, of course sheer lust and Viktor a mix of shame, horror and that damn desire. You can only imagine how thrilled Jayce was seeing how Viktor enjoyed it too.

Viktor who's getting progressively hard throuytue whole encounter and despite how much he's trying to will it away, it never does. Showing off his arousal he's so ashamed of. Jayce feels dizzy even seeing it. He just might pass out from excitement. The way he's hard and leaking just for him.

After the encounter, Viktor can't stop thinking about it. You'd think from the trauma but no. No, when he catches himself thinking about it, most of the time it's that confused throbbing between his legs. A need that rattles him up. He should have hated it. Why does he keep catching himself jerking off to it on rare nights?

-✒️

(hello, new anon! do i call you pen? or nib or something else?) OHOHOHOHOHO!!! >:3c warning: RAPE/NON-CON tender rapist jayce, tender rapist jayce!

(song of your heart au: radio dj viktor and his admirer the serial killer jayce)

viktor was terrified, he felt sweat down on his forehead and dripping down the back of his neck. he could hear his heart loudly beating in his ears and his chest felt light with so much panic but he couldn't run. he couldn't run. the killer was in front of him now, had his hands around his waist. viktor stared up at the killer with wide eyes. would the killer finally kill him now?

'viktor,' a distorted voice comes from the mask. viktor felt a hand on his face. 'viktor,' the killer called out.

what. 'what?' viktor breathed out. the killer pressed him against the wall. 'what?' viktor repeated.

'i finally with you,' the killer said and, distantly, viktor realized that he said that with this-this softness. the killer leaned forward. viktor's breathing came faster, almost panting. the killer cocked his head to the side and viktor felt cloth against his lips. his shoulders jerked and he pressed himself against the wall in the hopes he can escape.

the kiss broke. 'shh,' the killer said soothingly. he stepped closer, hands wrapping around viktor's waist. 'i've been waiting for this for so long. i've wanted this so long,' the killer murmurs. he nuzzled viktor's cheek then lowered himself to his knees.

viktor stared at him with wide eyes. 'wh-what?' he gasps.

the killer kissed viktor's hand. 'i've always wanted to do this. thank you, thank you for giving me the chance too.' and he pressed his face against viktor's crotch. viktor gasped, a shudder running through his whole body. the killer reached for viktor's waistband and unbuttoned it. viktor's hands flew to the killer's broad shoulders. his hands spasmed. he grasped the killer's jacket and tugged. the killer didn't budge.

'shh, i'm just showing you how much i love you,' the killer said eagerly. he pulled viktor's underwear down. another shudder ran through viktor at the chilly air then another when the killer wrapped his hand around his dick. the killer sighed. 'everything about you is so pretty,' the killer sighed dreamily, 'i want to suck you off, i want to suck you off so badly. maybe next time.' viktor shook his head. no, no, no next time!

the killer took off a glove, shoving it in his pocket. he took out a bottle and viktor's eyes widened. he scrambled against the killer's shoulder. the killer laid his forearm against viktor's waist then pushed. viktor's body went, laying back against the wall. no! no! the pop of the bottle's lid was loud in viktor's ears and when he blinked, there was something pressing against his rim.

viktor tensed. 'shh, i won't hurt you, i'll never hurt you,' the killer said softly. but he did, he was hurting him! viktor slammed his eyes shut but that didn't help at all. the killer slipped a finger in him and the feeling was magnified. 'i love you, i love you, i love you so much,' the killer said breathless. he stretched viktor and even with just the killer's fingers, he felt so full. and-and it felt good. what was happening to him?!

[gentlelass]

- ✒️ Marjorie Ford’s Timeline 🕰️ -

I had already published this on Marjorie’s page of my Toyhouse account - which I suggest you look up if you’re interested in knowing a little bit more about my lady 💕 links and interactions are welcome as always! - but I decided to adapt it to Tumblr as well on a whim. Consider this an extended version of my first post abour Marjorie’s full biography, tho it doesn’t end here just yet; I am still looking to turn these words into a proper comic, sooner or later. In the meanwhile, enjoy what I have to offer for now💋

1891

June 11th - Thursday

Christian Ford and Christina Casiraghi marry in Milan's Cathedral through Catholic ceremony.

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1892

May 3rd - Friday

Malcom Ford is born from Christian Ford and Christina Casiraghi, in Italy, Milan.

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1894

June 9th - Saturday

Marjorie Ford is born from Christian and Christina Ford, in Italy, Milan.

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1908

July 22nd - Wednesday

Christian is murdered during an instance of arson, culprit of which is yet to be determined. The family suspects it is to be attributed to this or that one of his illicit business rivals.

Unknown

The remaining members of the Ford Family become nomads in Europe, travelling from one royal or imperial court to the other due Christina’s career as a soprano, and to avoid meeting the same violent end as their late paterfamilias.

Unknown

Christina begins neglecting Marjorie in favor of Malcom's education, being that he is the first and only son and thus more useful, as the sole heir of their late father.

Unknown

Marjorie’s career as a ballerina officially starts.

Unknown

Marjorie starts showing more prominent signs of mental instability, tearing to shreds the other ballerinas' - tailored to perfection - pointy shoes right before their plays to forcibly remove them from the scene and gain easier access to the spotlight, with no regards to how it could affect their career or their social and economic standing on the long run.

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1909

Unknown

Marjorie commits her first homicide; the victim is Lupo Ercagna, a cheeky young dancer of her same company who made the mistake of stealing her spotlight on the scene in a moment when her head was already in a dark place. The straw that broke the camel's back is the fact that Lupo was male, an Italian one at that, and with his intent on 'replacing her' as Marjorie's psycho mind'd read it, she subconsciously associated it to her brother Malcom and her mother's neglect, venting her rage yellow with envy on him instead. She stabs him all over with a pair of tailor's scissors in a schizophrenic crisis, little time before their next play, 17 times total - dragging his moribund body by force to the theater's understage and letting him die of blood loss while she performs her play, still wearing the undergarments stained in his blood under her white swan costume.

When the play is over it late in the night, Marjorie quickly undresses from all her hair, makeup and costume, mounts on her family's carriage and flees, not before having set the boy's by now dead corpse on fire, and thus the whole building and the remaining people inside it too; the modalities of the murder eerily, and subconsciously, almost identical to the ones with which her own father had been killed.

The whole deal will never be able to be identified as her doing, because shortly thereafter Marjorie and her family left whatever country it is they were in, to travel to the next royal court in line for Christina's lyrical services.

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1911

Unknown

Marjorie and family settle back down in Italy, Milan, thanks to the financial help of an originally Sicilian family of lawyers who used to be friends with them through Christian: it's the Cordileones.

Unknown

As a show of gratitude towards the Cordileone family, the Fords begin frequenting them and their social events more and more often - and while her mother exploits this to help her brother Malcom form relationships with important characters in the field of law enforcing, to ensure his future in that field so that he'll be able to keep the family afloat, a young and troubled Marjorie finds solace in the company of the Cordileones’ eldest daughter, Savannah, a bold young lady of about Marjorie's age who with her impetuosity in being exactly who and doing exactly what she wants, begins showing Marjorie a way of life that was far from her own self-isolation and marginalisation from her own relatives.

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1912

Unknown

Marjorie and Savannah become lovers. Being that they're both women, Savannah finds it easy to convince Marjorie to keep their affair a secret - in truth, she initially does it all for the sake of her own family as a means to perform industrial espionage on Malcom's education through Marjorie, as they were afraid that he'd surpass them in proficiency in the field as his late father had already done in the past; and were willing to eliminate him before it could happen may need arise.

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1913

Unknown

Savannah realizes she's actually growing attached to Marjorie, a bit too much for her own arrogant liking, a low blow to her own ego that had always thought herself 'untouchable': she ends up pushing Marjorie more and more away, passing to flirting directly with her brother instead, the root of her family's original interest. Her attempts with Malcom however aren't as successful as they had been with Marjorie, being that he's nowhere as blinded by growing insanity, and Savannah eventually arouses his suspicions to the point that he goes to report directly to his mother - the woman, starting to finally put the puzzle pieces together, grows once again afraid that her precious son would meet the same end as his late father, and quickly cuts all ties with the Cordileone family.

Savannah will be left alone to deal with her family's ire for having failed them, all due to her own doing to booth.

Unknown

The Ford family retains once again their nomad lifestyle for a brief period.

Marjorie, having for the first time found both love and friendship and then having lost it just as quickly, descends even deeper in a desperate spiral for love and attention. Once again blaming solely her mother and brother for it all, of course.

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1914

July 28th - Tuesday

WW1 officially breaks out.

Unknown

Marjorie’s career as a ballerina and Christina's career as a soprano officially end, causing the Ford family to basically go broke.

Unknown

Marjorie and Malcom flee to America, Mexico, with what little money they retain after the economic crisis brought by the war.

2nd November - Monday

Christina passes away of heartbreak after letting herself go broke to allow her children to flee to America to seek for a better life with what little money they retained after the economic crisis brought by the war; Italy, province of Milan.

Unknown

Malcom is forced to go back to their motherland to fight in the army alongside the majority of his fellow able-bodied Italian young men, leaving a young and relatively vulnerable Marjorie alone to fend for herself at the other side of the world.

Unknown

Marjorie, for some time, has money sent to her by her brother from the war front to help her maintain herself.

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1915

Unknown

Marjorie is shipped a Luger P08 (WW1 1915 Cal.9x19) by her brother from the war front.

This gun will stay with her for the rest of her life.

Unknown

Marjorie purposefully ceases all communication with her brother.

He doesn't question it - he's literally fighting in war, he doesn't have the time to.

Later in life, the both of them will simply assume the other is dead - and that they deserved it.

As such, the Ford siblings will never meet nor speak to each other ever again from this point in time forward.

Unknown

Marjorie, after working a series of legal and less-than-legal gigs here and there, travels her way up from Mexico the the USA.

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1916

Unknown

Marjorie stays for a brief period with her paternal cousin Gunther Vincent Gunther, German of origin who had, little time prior to WW1, immigrated to the USA to seek for work, and ended up in Texas as a grave digger. Not a particularly kind man in nature, but sympathizing with Marjorie due to the similar circumstances of their immigration, he offers her shelter under his own roof, and manages to obtain legal documents for her.

Marjorie had however not told him about her crimes, and, although he never came to know of her homicidal nature, when he discovered her smaller transgressions, he was quick to evict her from his home, not willing to risk getting in trouble with the law for the sake of a relative he barely knew to begin with, in typical Ford family's opportunist fashion.

Marjorie, with renovated contrasting love-and-hate feelings towards her family which she never worked to resolve and instead only drove her even more mad than she already was, thus restarted her ascent upwards the United States through more and more less-than-legals methods.

Unknown

Marjorie, having eventually wound up to prostitution as means of self-sufficiency, is intercepted by Asa Sweet when she reaches Missouri, who exploits her economical and emotional vulnerability to make an offer to her he knows she’s in no position to decline: to hire her as a trigger-woman for the Marigold instead, also giving her citizenship through illegal means to tie her even more throughly to him and the Marigold.

Unknown

Marjorie officially joins the Marigold Gang, gaining also a daytime cover-up job as a maid at the Maribel Hotel.

Marjorie quickly develops the habit of always having a pair of tailor's scissors hidden in her apron's pocket.

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1919

Unknown

Marjorie meets Mitzi May for the first time, when she plays with Zib and the band at the Lackadaisy.

A friendship sparks.

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1920

Unknown

Marjorie meets Mordecai for the first time, during the raid along Viktor at that cabin in the middle of nowhere, when the Lackadaisy still had an ongoing partnership with the Marigold.

Unknown ("Ingenue")

Marjorie meets Ivy Pepper for the first time, when the latter is just 11 years of age, when she was working alongside Mordecai and Viktor as means of precaution while they discussed the illicit sale of a vehicle along Ivy's father.

Here the Lackadaisy crew notices that Marjorie’s wolfish attitude does not soften for children, on the contrary, it only strengthens, becoming even more merciless and condescending, provoking.

This makes the Lackadaisy crew slowly but surely begin raise their guard more and more up towards an ethically challenged character who, unlike them, borders on the very extremeness.

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1922

Unknown

The Savoys siblings officially join the Marigold Gang, quickly building quite the reputation for themselves, to the point they attracted even Marjorie's ever volatile attention.

Unknown

Marjorie joins in on the Maitre Carrefour cult; she doesn't actually believe in their ‘spiritual bullshit’ as she'd call it; she's just doing it for the smoke, the alcohol and the promiscuity - for the shit and giggles of it, essentially. A way, if destructive (but what about Marjorie isn't) to defuse the stress caused to her by that same place and job and actions.

Unknown

Marjorie and Serafine become occasional lovers, but the affair remains open and superficial.

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1923

Unknown

The members of the Maitre Carrefour cult, in particular Serafine, finally manage to convince Marjorie to let her carve the Erzulie Freda vèvè behind her left shoulder, a voodoo symbol of jealous and unpredictable love. How fitting. Then again, Marjorie doesn't really believe in any of it: she's doing it just to appease the Maitre Carrefour members and assure herself that she is liked there.

This mark will stay with Marjorie for the rest of her life, but she's not bothered by it. She's done worse.

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1924

Unknown

Marjorie, emboldened by her successful affair with Serafine, also tries her luck with Mitzi May.

The latter however is by this point time has already tied the knot with Atlas May, and being the 'loyal hound bitch' as Marjorie's define her, that she is, rejects her advances.

Marjorie, knowing that for the sake of the Marigold she can't kill Mitzi, but still seething, ends up cutting all ties with the Lackadaisy.

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1926

Unknown

Asa Sweet, pressed by his higher-ups, and knowing she's possibly the only one batshit crazy enough to take on such a suicide mission, assigns Marjorie to kill Atlas May, the head of the dangerously prolific Lackadaisy, once and for all.

The modalities of the murder aren't clear, but it's successful.

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1927

Unknown

Marjorie and Mordecai become stable partners in crime along the Savoys.

27 September - Tuesday ("Strange Creatures in St. Louis")

Marjorie and Mordecai go on their first job alone together, beginning to build a mutual distrust coupled with morbid curiosity, perhaps driven by a sense of self-preservation, towards each other.

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1929

Unknown

Marjorie and Mordecai, after a long period of mutual distrust, become lovers. Theirs is a relationship built on stress and desperation, however, and the tension between them is strong, often exploding in violent arguments that quickly give their affair away to those near them, particularly to Asa Sweet, and the Savoy siblings.

While the latters do not take it seriously, in their typical devil-may-care fashion, limiting themselves to occasionally mocking the two about it, the former, with his mind for strategic business, starts plotting within himself on how to use this information to his own and the Marigold's advantage.

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1930

Unknown

Mordecai, sharp bastard that he is, quickly takes a hunch on Asa Sweet’s intentions; still, since he needs the job at Marigold, he keeps quiet about it, but his guard is raised.

He doesn't tell Marjorie anything about it, in fear that in a burst of impulsivity and extremeness that would be typical of her mindset, she may take and abruptly flee the country once again by herself, or worse, straight-up murder Asa in an attempt to get rid of the problem at its root.

Unknown

Asa, perhaps pressured by his own higher-ups of the Marigold, finally reveals his plan to the two unfortunate lovers: threatening to publicly reveal their affair and basically ruin them - given that this is the early XXI century and extramarital relationships were NOT taken lightly to - if they don't go and kill once and for all the most dangerous remaining member of the Lackadaisy, their muscle, Viktor Vasko, for the Marigold.

Unknown

Marjorie, aware of the ties, emotional and otherwise, Mordecai still has to the Lackadaisy, and in particular to Viktor - whom he had quite literally kneecapped to avoid having to kill - exploits it, perhaps ruthlessly; taking the cue to convince him to flee along her from Missouri, in her typical problem-avoidant fashion, to get away from the influence of the Marigold Gang once and for all.

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1931

Unknown

Courtesy of Marjorie's relentless insistence, persuasion, seduction, plotting, machinations, coercion, and outright threats and attempts to kill herself otherwise, Mordecai is forced not only to flee with her from Missouri, but from the USA and America outright, bringing her back to her roots in Italy, after she had been essentially forced by circumstances to stay away from it for almost twenty years.

Unknown

Marjorie and Mordecai settle down together in a humble little town in the province of Milan.

22th July - Friday

Marjorie and Mordecai marry, with Marjorie changing her religion to Judaism - only on paper, she’s factually the Anti Christ herself - to make it legal, and also changing her name to Marjorie Heller Ford as dictated by the Italian law of the time.

Marjorie chose this particular date for her marriage to delusionally try and erase the association she made with it in her head to her father's death - which was basically the gear that had started the whole mechanism which eventually brought to her utter insanity - and instead associate it to something happier.

It did not work fully, making Marjorie even more violently bittersweet towards Mordecai.

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1933

13th November - Monday

Mallory Heller, the Hellers’ first and only daughter, is born. An unplanned child, Marjorie finds herself deeply betrayed by herself for the fact that she produced a female, fainting for the first time of her life when the infant’s sex was revealed right after her delivery.

Marjorie will always hold repressed resentment towards the child, threading dangerously close to the steps her own mother had made when raising her; but it doesn’t matter, because she had already descended to such a level of insanity far behind in her life that it can’t get any worse anyways.