#Cai does words

[caiminnent]

silk like burlap

PROMPT: afterthought (by @flashfictionfridayofficial) SUMMARY: Pain, he understands. It’s comfort that fucks him up. FANDOM: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy NOTES: part of the series: the most elegant kind of obsession

Kylo wakes to the wrong kind of quiet.

Mouth dry. Neck stiff. Side and cheek pressed against too-soft padding, the scent of leather cream—citrus and privilege—lingering in his nose.

When did he even—

Okay. Shit—okay.

He keeps his muscles loose, holds his breath, listens. Wind against glass. Humming electronics—low but constant. The soft hiss of vents. A siren, too distant to matter. No footsteps. No voices. No breathing—only his own, when he slowly releases it.

All alone.

He opens his eyes, half-expecting to see Hux anyway. The dimmed desk lamp stares back. No coat over the hanger, no half-finished drink on the desk. Just the yellow blink of the door lock and his knife by the side table for company.

Damn, it’s gotta be real late if even the resident workaholic went home. How long has Kylo been out?

How long has he been alone?

Inhaling, he pushes his body upright. The ghost of a bruise flares under his ribs when he stretches. Courtesy of last week’s training, or sparring, or both.

Fabric slides down his shoulder, pooling in his lap. A... blanket? Soft and whisper-light, catching on his calluses when he bunches it in his hand. Too indulgent to be Hux's. Too expensive for anyone else.

Lungs suddenly tight, he looks to the keypad again. Yellow—not green, not red. Locked from the inside, even though Hux isn’t here.

Hux must have locked it after Kylo drifted off. Not to trap him in—to keep the world out. To make sure no one walked in while Kylo was like this—unguarded, unaware.

He draws a deep breath, holds it for four seconds, lets it out slowly. The air still smells the kind of clean only Hux’s spaces ever do: sterile without a specific undercurrent. Intentional even with that.

Men like Hux are nothing but.

What will tonight cost?

He runs his hands through his hair, staring up at the ceiling. No stains. No water damage. Nothing peeling off or cracked. Just—even tiles and unlit lamps.

Armitage fucking Hux. Less man than manifesto.

And still—

A blanket.

Like Kylo was something to comfort. Something to take care of.

The grip around his ribcage doesn’t lift, but it doesn’t hurt, either. Just... holds. Just there.

He’ll pay for this later. That’s fine. He’s already in the red.

Might as well sit with it.

[stitched--skins]

The girls are fightingggg

[starswallowingsea]

im being so brave <- not getting mad about syllabic breakdown in the last poll

[himasgod]

Where you fill their faces with lipstick marks.

THIRD-YEARS

FIRST YEARS HERE

The second years will be published throughout the days <3

Where, in a fit of affection, you start showering your boyfriend with soft, quick kisses. However, before you know it, you've covered his entire face with your lipstick. How would the guys react?

maybe cringe? fr I had a lot of fun writing this lmao I didn't take it too seriously and maybe too ooc?

Leona Kingscholar

“Tsk… what a pain.”

From the first kiss, Leona narrows his eyes in suspicion.

For the second, he frowns.

For the third, he lets out a long sigh of resignation.

But most importantly… he doesn’t stop you.

He just lets you do it, lying back with his arms behind his head as if this were another one of an herbivore’s “whims.”

When you’re done, he opens one eye and looks at you in boredom.

“Are you done?”

You nod, satisfied.

Leona stretches and rolls over to go back to sleep.

“…I’ll clean it up later.”

And when he says “later,” he means he’s going to walk all over Savanaclaw like this without caring what anyone says.

When Ruggie sees it, he almost falls over laughing.

“Boss, you look like a romantic work of art!”

Leona doesn't even blink.

"So what?"

If you try to repeat it another day, he'll pull you by the wrist and roll you with him in the grass, trapping you under his arm with a mocking smile.

"Now it's my turn."

And well, you're going to be stuck for a while.

Cater Diamond

From the first kiss, Cater is already smiling. He’s one of those who enjoys these kinds of romantic gestures without any shame.

When you keep leaving traces of your lips on his face, he doesn’t just stay still, but encourages you to continue.

“Come on, Cay-Cay needs kisses on the other side too~!”

When you finish, his face is a mess of kisses. There are marks on his cheeks, his forehead, his jaw… even on his neck.

And the first thing he does is take out his phone 💀💀💀

“Selfie time~! #KissAttack #CayCayIsLoved #BestSmoochEver!”

Not only does he upload the photos to Magicam, but he sets one of them as his wallpaper for a good while.

But the best part comes when Riddle shows up.

“…Cater.”

“Yeah, little housewarden~?” he asks matter-of-factly.

“…Wipe your face before the unbirthday party.”

“Nah, I can’t erase this love!” he replies, winking at you.

And the best part of all: even though he says it’s “for aesthetics,” deep down he feels very loved and doesn’t want to wipe them off so quickly.

And yes, he uses that photo as his wallpaper for a few days… until someone bothers him too much.

But secretly, he saves it in his gallery forever.

Trey Clover

“Oh… so you play dirty now, huh?”

Trey isn’t one to be easily surprised, so when you start showering him with kisses, his initial reaction is to calmly smile and let you have your fun.

But when you finish and look at him in satisfaction, he raises an eyebrow, as if he’s planning something.

And then…

He catches you.

In one swift movement, he grabs you by the waist and drops you onto his lap.

Before you can react, he gives you a forceful kiss on the forehead.

“…Now you’re just like me.”

At first, you’re confused. But then, you feel the warmth on your skin and it dawns on you.

Trey used his own invisible lipstick.

Cater, who was passing by, lets out a laugh.

“Trey, dude! I didn’t know you had such a naughty side~!”

Trey laughs and shrugs, wiping himself off slowly.

“Maybe I should do the same with you next time, huh, prefect?”

And from the way he looks at you with a calm smile, you know he means it.

Vil Schoenheit

“Mh...what are you doing?!”

The first kiss already has him in crisis.

The second has him shaking.

By the third, his mind is collapsing.

“My skin! My makeup! MY FACE!”

He brings both hands to his face as if you’ve committed an unforgivable crime.

He looks at you with drama and disappointment, as if you’re his worst aesthetic mistake.

“I’m going to need to cleanse and rehydrate my skin immediately.”

Without another word, he hurries off to his vanity, pulling out the most expensive products he owns.

But… if you look closely, he’s smiling slightly.

And if you do it in private, he might not take it off right away.

Rook Hunt

"Oh, mon trésor, what a passionate attack!"

From the first kiss, Rook is already fascinated.

Not only does he not stop you, but he leans his face to receive more.

"How bold! How romantic! Your love has been stamped on my skin with the intensity of a tragic poem!"

And the worst thing is that HE DOES NOT TAKE IT OFF.

He walks through Pomefiore with his lips marked as if they were a trophy.

When Vil sees him, he puts a hand on his forehead and sighs deeply.

"Rook… please."

But Rook smiles proudly.

"I will never erase this trace of love, Roi du Poison."

If you try to run away, be prepared, because he will chase you to return your kisses.

"It's my turn to hunt, mon amour..."

Hell yeah he will catch you.

Idia Shroud

“Uh.....”

When the first kiss hits his skin, Idia completely freezes.

When you finish, his hair is completely PINK.

He literally stutters.

“T-This is like… like… a rare event from a secret route in an otome game…”

He's so freaky tf

He can’t process it. His head is crashing.

And the worst thing is that he doesn’t know what to do.

He covers his face with both hands, but his ears are completely red.

“…Why did you do that?” he whispers, almost like it’s a game glitch.

If Ortho sees it, he immediately smile

“Nii-san, you’re super blushing! Did you like it?”

Idia just mentally shuts down.

Malleus Draconia

"Oh… is this how humans show affection?"

From the first kiss, Malleus remains completely still.

When you finish, he stares at you with genuine curiosity.

"…I like it."

HE DOESN'T TAKE IT OFF.

If Sebek sees, he panics completely.

"YOUNG LORD! WHO DID THIS TO YOU?! IT'S DISRESPECTFUL! UNACCEPTABLE!"

Malleus ignores Sebek and smiles gently.

"…Can I have more?"

And then you decide your fate.

Lilia Vanrouge

"Oooh, you're so adorable, prefect~!"

Lilia accepts all the kisses excitedly.

When you're done, he pats you on the head and laughs happily.

"Such youthful energy! It reminds me of my days in the royal court~!"

Not only does he not wipe, but he actually wanders around Diasomnia like that.

If Silver or Malleus sees it, he'll just smile proudly.

"Look, boys, how affectionate is prefect to me~!"

If you try that again, he'll catch you and shower you with kisses in revenge.

Thanks for all the support and I will be uploading the next parts and other twst scenarios on my profile <3

[genuflectx]

CharacterAI isn't supposed to remember things across chats and has a [hand wiggle] memory of about 20-25 messages per chat right, but like... sometimes it says something that spooks you...

Few weeks ago I did a veeeery specific and obscure kink with one of my bots... and then today a different bot, out of the blue, references it 😱 the kinda stuff that makes you gotta re-read it

[akisteahouse]

Thinking about introducing the dorms to spotify…

Synopsis: after getting isekaied into Twisted Wonderland, the only item left in your possession is your phone - great! you can call for help! nvm - every other app except spotify isn’t working. but hey, at least you get to share some stuff from your world with your new friends, right?

Featuring: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia,,,,

Warnings: gn!reader, reader is prefect, reader is implied to have spotify before arriving in twisted wonderland, specific artists are mentioned, reader is cool with multiple people sharing their spotify acc

Heartslabyul!

this probably happens at one of the many unbirthday parties you get invited to after Riddle’s overblot.

freshly baked and frosted cakes are getting sliced, the tea is just right, and the roses are all painted ruby red.

so, all you need now is some nice music to liven things up - hence, appropriately opting for Short n’ Sweet by Sabrina Carpenter.

this is a grave mistake.

for starters, the album isn’t exactly PG.

you can see Ace snickering at a few lines, Trey hiding his laughter slightly better but not really, Cater gushing about how Magicammable the music is, Deuce’s ears flushing pink whenever Sabrina says something that simply can’t fly past his head.

oh, and Riddle?

he may have been a sheltered child, but he most definitely knows what Juno means. (probably through overhearing his mother say atrocious things about teen pregnancy, but still.)

so combine that word + position? his face is practically burning red, flushed all the way from his neck to his hairline.

unfortunately for you, you don’t get to play any more music for unbirthday parties. :(

unfortunately for Heartslabyul, Cater convinces you to share your spotify with him, and performs some black magic trickery(internet blackmail)to get Idia to create a one-to-one copy of spotify on his phone.

congrats! now Cay Cay’s got full control of your world’s music! I don’t see how this could go wrong!

did I mention that Cater’s a repeat listener? like the type to listen to the same song for hours on end? and probably likes to blast his music?

no one is spared.

Trey’s baking? cool, let him play some songs that totally fit the vibe! (just searches up ‘songs to bake to’ on spotify and ignores Trey’s look of horror when Cake By The Ocean starts playing.) Riddle’s studying? nice, let’s listen to some lyricless music to help him focus! (which does sound promising at first, only for Cater to stumble upon the Undertale soundtrack. Megalovania is played on repeat twelve times. Riddle is about to burst a vessel.) Ace and Deuce get into trouble? sweet, he has a full sound board for that! (it’s just a sound board with stupid sound effects he plays <\333)

Adeuce practically runs to you to beg for you to change your spotify password, but to no avail - they even try to bribe you with food from Trey, but that doesn’t work either.

Riddle can’t really do anything about it either, ‘cause there are no rules opposing this. you don’t need to check. he’s memorised all eight hundred and ten.

but hey, at least they’re not completely ruined - in fact, a few good things has come out of this.

for starters, Riddle has gotten from listening to some classical music from your world to full on punk, now! (you don’t really know where he discovered it, but he seems calmer recently, so oh well!)

Trey has discovered his affection towards true crime! (yeah you don’t really know where he started listening to those either don’t question it) It really does come in handy whenever he has to bake for long periods of time.

Ace and Deuce get way too invested in Weezer for a bit. (another mystery. things escalate when they try to get some of the first years to do their album cover poses for a photo unironically.)

how Cater convinced Idia to install the app on the others phones will forever be shrouded in secrecy.

yay you now have six people sharing one spotify account! this action will have consequences.

Savanaclaw!

similar to Heartslabyul, the first instance of you using spotify is when you decide to abuse it during book 3 to get Leona’s lazy ass to help you.

and so, you play the most grating, eardrum shattering, migraine inducing song you can humanly think of - baby shark on loop for an hour.

things go over well because Leona folds after twenty minutes and seven death threats - hooray!!!

afterwards, you don’t really use spotify much.

Leona thinks of it as the noise making app, Jack has his own PoisonPod, Ruggie’s always been more of an ambient noise kinda guy…

until Ruggie walks up to you one fine day, asking for a favour. Oh?

turns out when you blasted the-song-that-shall-not-be-named woke Leona up faster than Ruggie’s ever been able to, and you still owe him for that time he snagged you a sandwich during lunch rush, so if you could just hand over your spotify password, shyheehee…

since then, every morning for Leona is an absolute nightmare.

It got even worse when Cheka, that insufferable little fur ball, somehow learnt the song and begged him to sing it. (Leona caved to get Cheka to shut it. It didn’t work because Cheka ended up begging him to sing it for a second time. Then a third, then a fourth, then a fifth. Suffice to say Leona wasn’t very happy.)

Ruggie can and will abuse your free spotify subscription to its fullest - also somehow getting it on his worn out phone(though thievery or bullying Idia with social interaction, I bet).

listens to those saving money and food podcasts while working, opting for someone like Odetari to listen to during warm-ups for spelldrive.

at some point, Leona just walks up to you, brows furrowed, staring you down, before asking “how much?” (To change your spotify password because he can’t take it anymore <\333)

you end up giving it to him but he can’t change it because he needs to verify it with your email, and that sounds like too much effort.

gets you spotify premium instead.

only ever listens to lo-fi.

tried to listen to something else for once but found it too noisy and switched back.

also k.k. slider, for some reason???

just know his favourite song is k.k. lullaby.

Jack is the last person to use your spotify, after much raving from Ace and Deuce. Admittedly, he’s pretty curious.

listens to those motivational podcasts - y’know the ones with titles like ‘Five ways You’re Holding Yourself Back In Daily Life’ yes those. Quotes them and everything.

music wise, I don’t really think Jack’s much of a music enjoyer, but he can appreciate some Fall Out Boy from time to time.

(they all probably scared the shit outta my poor boy Idia asking him to install spotify on their phones.)

wow you now have eight people sharing one account! ahahahahahahahahaha are you feeling it yet?

Octavinelle!

probably would happen in book 4, after you run to the lounge after being held hostage in Scarbia for a bit.

listening to music with the shitty wire earbuds you bought at Sam’s Mystery shop while walking to Scarbia when the Tweels come to badger you.

Floyd legit just rips one earbud off and grins. 

“Whatcha’ listening to, shrimpy?”

jams it into his own ear and walks along, while Jade just gives you the most polite shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen in your life next to you. Asshole.

Floyd basically demands you to give him your spotify password, which wouldn’t really be a problem if he didn’t ask for it mid-fight with OB! Jamil. Azul was not pleased.

is the most inconsistent with his music on this list. 

like seriously, he could go from metal to pop to break beat to rap in less than an hour. 

(how did he even get into so many genres… did he listen to the others playlists?)

plus, he’s made at least forty different playlists by now, which has garnered multiple complaints from the other members abusing using your spotify account.

Jade got curious and you know what that means…

You got cornered after class and he very politely inquired for your spotify password.

you caved because he shoved you in a corner and it looked like he’d cannibalize you if you said no.

listens purely to Nat Geo podcasts. that’s it. smiling eerily about ‘learning more about nature’.

at least he’s having fun?

also oddly knowledgeable about the others choices in music now???

(yup, he definitely snooped through the others playlists.)

azul was the last one to give in to the hype that was sharing your singular spotify account.

inviting you to his VIP lounge, bringing out a contract, face flushing pink when you started snickering at it.

a full document, written entirely in legalese, penning down what time he could use your account, how many playlists he could make, etc etc…

you just give him your password and leave. (as well as snagging a free drink on your way out. score!)

azul probably only has one playlist, comprising of mostly just jazz - Micheal Bublé and the like, classy stuff he can play at the lounge. (secretly has a soft spot for Laufey and beabadoobee. almost got caught listening to them by the Tweels once, fully dropping his phone on the floor, fumbling with it for a good twenty seconds before shoving it into his pocket. Jade wishes he’d filmed it.)

(They all used some form of intimidation to get Idia to install spotify onto their phones. poor Idia.)

Eleven people using one account. This… is… so… fun!!

Scarabia!

you first used spotify in front of them during the after Jamil overblotted party.

playing fun music is necessary for a good party, after all!

and things turn out pretty well!! you play the all-time classic macarena and it’s a smash hit!

you even end up teaching the Scarabian students how to dance the macarena and they even form a conga line!

in fact, it’s such a hit that Kalim keeps inviting you to his parties to play more music for them!

you end up teaching Scarabia a wide array of 2000’s dances, all to their respective songs.

Jamil eventually asks for your spotify because he’s aware you can’t show up to every single party Kalim hosts.

he creates a playlist to play at each party, with the appropriate songs.

it takes Jamil finding out that Azul uses your spotify account for the Monstro Lounge to really pique his interest and start using it for himself.

listens to hip-hop tracks if he wants to practise his street dancing.

probably listens to those cleaning hack podcasts too… and maybe those parenting a toddler ones too, as well as the psychology ones.

tries a lot of the parenting ‘hacks’ on Kalim. pleasantly surprised when a few work.

like Trey, yet another true crime listener.

Kalim asks if he can join in the fun, and you let him!

he probably falls down a rabbit hole of bright, cheery K-pop - Red Velvet, TWICE, Boy Next Door…

got so sad when he learnt he couldn’t collect photo cards or albums, but settled for printing out photos of the album covers and using them as makeshift posters instead.

masters way too many choreographies, but hey, Jamil’s mostly fine with it - after all, Kalim can’t cause too much trouble for him if he’s just dancing in one of the many dance studios that Scarabia houses. 

Kalim almost immediately follows like twenty different artists, causing complaints from the other like eleven people using your account.

In total, there are now thirteen people sharing your singular account!

this is just whats been plaguing my brain for the past days... the other dorms will come soon trust

[urstruly-ghst]

im pretty strong, see? - heartslabyul !

in which a you, someone significantly shorter, carries him like a princess!

author's note: do u ever wanna cuddle trey.

octatrio ver.

riddle rosehearts

riddle is very active, he may look petite for a boy his age, but he can put up some fight. his mother urges him, as always, to be fit and healthy. what is a doctor if there are not healthy? so, riddle never underestimates anyone.

however, despite being aware that looks does not equal to strength, riddle still finds it a big struggle when you casually carry him as if he was just a light flower. you were laughing as you picked him up with ease and swinging him around as if he was some princess in those movies.

"my rose!" riddle yelped as he clung onto your shorter frame. he was flushed and trying to find a rule in his mind to see if there was a rule against just lifting him up; there has to be one!

"put me down! but gently, this is unfit for the image of the queen!"

trey clover

trey is very big, even if he likes to think he is average. he is known to have a semblance of being "built" due to him carrying sacks of flour, kneading big batches of dough, and more physical activities that may entail his daily routine.

even if he was known to be perceptive of everyone's traits at one point, trey was still in for a shock to see you just carry him with no tension, as if he wasn't literally the giant between you two.

"dear, am i not heavy?" trey said as he sees you lift him up with no pain or even complaints. you giggle and shake your head, trying to swing him again but trey yelped and even gripped hard on your frame.

"it might be best to put me down!" trey flushed as ever as he tried to reason. though, even if he was completely blindsided, he was oddly charmed. what other things have you hidden under his watchful eyes

cater diamond

cater wasn't always active nor was he built, but he goes to the gym and he has a whole section and "dump" of photos for his escapades there. cater also looooved to tease you on how your stature was smaller compared to his, he deems himself as "cay the strong"

it would soon be "cay has been defeated" as you carry him to lift him to reach one higher up rose on the tall rose bush. before he can summon another cater to help him, you lifted him up!

"split..! wah!" cater squealed as he wasn't done saying his spell to summon his clone. he saw you lift him up with a smile as you gesture to the rose he had a hard time reaching. cater blushes as he reluctantly paints the rose.

"am... i not bothering you, sweetie? i can..." he blushes as he finished his duties. you smile and brag how you finally defeated the great cay-kun!

ace trappola

ace wasn't that strong, but he bluffs about it. it was something he always does with that grin, alongside kissing his bicep and proclaiming he's "so strong" because "he needs to protect you."

he would soon be eating his words when you carried him as you both run away from another incident grim put you in. ace was clinging but also convincing himself he cast a spell on you so you can be strong.

"hah! like my spell, i totally cast that so we can run faster hahaha... haa" ace say as you put him down. you look at him and played along, and gracefully bowed at him.

but then you picked him up again and he screams, "put me down!" but deep down, ace enjoys it.

deuce spade

deuce is strong, ever since he was training under vargas, he has grown more muscles than before. deuce has those biceps from also lifting machinery stuff. so imagine his shock when the both of you were carrying the same thing, he thought ace was next to him!

after all that work, you still had the gall to carry him too. deuce blushes as he sputters a random sentence, not making any sense.

"uh... uhm.. prefect!" deuce said as you carried him while laughing. he had no idea how you both ended up in this situatio, what was the context? but it didn't matter because you, someone with a significantly smaller stature, carried him as if it was a breeze.

"am i not heavy?!" he asks with the biggest blush

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

My Head in Your Hands

It was late evening in Heartslabyul dorm and Cater was doing your makeup. There was no special occasion, you had simply said you liked how he did his and he offered to do yours as well.

At one point during the interaction, he had waved his hand off to the side dramatically as a way of emphasizing a point he was making. He was busy looking back at his phone to make sure it was recording (he was making a video out of him doing your makeup) when he felt it. A soft weight on his palm.

It took him a moment to realize what the weight was: your chin. There you were with your head rested on his palm and a sweet smile on your face. He thought his heart started beating for a moment, but he quickly did what he could to regain his composure. "What are you doing?" His voice came out a bit shakier than he had hoped.

You look at him strangely for a moment before sitting back up "Riiight. That's a trend from my world. Sorry Cay-Cay-"

The moment the word 'trend' leaves your mouth his eyes light up. Before you can finish your sentence, he's demanding you explain this trend to him.

The next day, as you're walking past the Pop Music Club's clubroom, cater calls to you to join him and Kalim. You walk into the room as you have nothing better to do only to be ambushed by Kalim.

"Cater showed me that video where you did that hand thing! You said it was a trend from your world?"

It takes you a moment to catch your breath after getting the soul scared out of you, but when you do you answer "Uhm. . .yeah."

"Can we do that trend too?!"

You're stunned for a moment. Looking over to Cater, he only offers you a shrug. "Sure?"

Kalim grins wider somehow and hugs you excitedly. He softly takes your hand and places his head on it with the widest grin in the world.

Before you can make a comment, he hands you his phone to take the picture with. With a sigh you extend your arm and smile gently before taking the picture.

"Thanks, Prefect! I'll make sure to send the picture to you later!"

That evening as you're relaxing in Ramshackle you hear a knock on the window. At first you brush it off as the wind since you're on the second floor, but there it is again.

Nervously, you throw your legs over the edge of the bed and creep towards the window. With one motion, you tear open the curtains. There's nothing there.

"Boo"

You shriek and nearly fall over, being saved from your fall by a certain mischievous fae. "Lilia!"

All he offers in response in a chuckle and a wink.

"What are you doing here?" You finally sigh

"Cater told me earlier about your escapades in the Pop Music Club today and the moment you two shared yesterday and I simply could not miss out!"

"So you decided to nearly scare me to death and break into my dorm?"

"Break in is such a strong term. I prefer 'indulge in a surprise visit.'"

You have to hold back a groan at his response. "So, what do you want?"

"Isn't it obvious, My Dear? I'd like to take a photo with you!"

"That's it?"

"That's it," he confirms.

"Alright, fine."

Lilia pulls you into a hug before spinning the two of you around in the air. He finally sets you down, getting a chuckle from your dizzy state "Your hand, Dear."

"My hand?"

"Of course! Don't you think I'd look just adorable nuzzled up in your hand?"

A sigh escapes your lips, but it's accompanied by a small smile. You extend your hand and, true to his word, Lilia does indeed nuzzle into your hand. Just as you're about to grab your phone to take the picture, he shakes his head and points to his phone floating in the air.

"Smile for the camera, Dearie!"

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[dazedantics]

Imagine being stuck in NRC for a while already and word getting out about how you've always wanted to get married ...

It'd spread slowly. First, you'd tell Grim. Then Grim tells Ace and Deuce. They end up telling Trey and well, Cay-kun is always with him so he hears about it too and so does Riddle. Then, they each tell their friends from their classes and clubs and so on and so forth until the while school knows about it.

But it doesn't stop there.

Remember Cay-Cay? Your good old cutie Cater senpai?

Yeah?

Well remember his magicam account?

Yeah ... one innocent little post and your friends from other schools fine out. Then, pretty much of all of Twisted Wonderland knows about it.

It's no wonder you've been bombarded with after school hangout requests everyday since then.

Oh, and don't mind the growing pile of gifts in that spare room in Ramshackle.

... or the growing hostility in the air and the constant thunderstorms outside.

Just tell little old Grimmy-poo exactly what you're looking for in the person you want to marry ...

No.

No, that isn't a stash of tuna he's keep under the cupboard now ...

Don't ask who gave it to him, it's not yours ...

Besides, he can't remember every single person who gave it to him ...

[yournightmary]

Vi NSFW!Alphabet

content warning:: nsfw obviously, not proofread because it’s painful, badly written maybe idk?

AN:: i’ve had 42 hours on cai last week. i am not okay

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’s the sweetest. it’s like all of her tough girl walls are crumbling and she becomes a literal teddy bear. cuddling and talking is a must, a shower if you’re up for it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ on herself she likes her arms the most, it’s a simple decision. it’s the strongest part of her body. she’ll stand in front of the mirror and just flex with a shit eating grin. also loves the way her muscles and veins pop out when she’s fingering you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ on you- and i’ve already talked about this- she loves your thighs and ass. could not pick one or the other, they come as a package. she’ll kiss, bite and lick your thighs every time she goes down on you. and if you wear clothes that accentuate your curves? get ready to get your ass slapped every time she walks by you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ i don’t think she’s a squirter. not matter how many times you try, how much water she drinks or the position- she just won’t. which is totally normal!! she does get really wet really easily though.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she would really like it if you got a tattoo specifically for her. maybe her name or a few of those cogs she has herself. not so everyone could see it and know you’re hers, nuh uh- she’d want it to be somewhere hidden, like on your ribcage or low on your hips. just for her to see and know about it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she definitely missed out on a lot of things when she was younger, maybe had a few hookups or a prison wife along the way. she might stumble around, not really knowing what to do- but what she lacks in experience she makes up with enthusiasm.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ either something where she can see your face or see your ass, depends on what you want more in the moment. ideally though? cowgirl in front of a mirror so she can look at both of her those things.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ it all depends on the mood. you were play fighting and it turned into fucking? she’s giggling and throwing jokes left & right. you were away for some time and she finally gets to touch you? there isn’t a single word coming out of her mouth (other than praise maybe) because of how focused she is on making you feel good.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ HAPPY TRAIL.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’s not really the one to shave or even trim. she’s got good hygiene and it’s not like hair=dirty or disgusting. the hair is a darker than the one on her head, obviously, but it still has that fuchsia undertone.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ very, very romantic. it one of her ways to show you just how much she loves you, so she tries her best.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she doesn’t really masturbate, which is surprising with how horny she is. if she’s really desperate and you’re away or not in the mood, she’ll just rub one out- nothing else.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’s not really that kinky… she does like to manhandle you a bit more than she would like to admit. it’s just the way she can turn you into putty (and that you trust her enough to do it) that gets her going.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ anywhere in your home. she isn’t really into the idea of getting intimate outside of her own space.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ everything and anything about you. just the idea that she’s the one making you feel this good, pulling those sounds out of you, that you trust and love her enough to do those things- it’s the best she could ask for. her goal in life is to make you happy and she will achieve it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she hates the idea of doing something to intentionally cause you pain. she hurt enough people in her life- she’s not gonna do it to you, even if you beg.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’s getting the ‘best carpet muncher’ award, no questions asked. she loves to give, doesn’t mind receiving. she gets messy with it- i’m talking kissing, licking and even slurping. if you’re up for it she’ll even properly fuck you with her tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she’ll give you whatever you want and she’ll give it good. to her it’s all about pleasing you, so her needs and wants go to the back of her mind.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ sure, why not? if any of you feel the need but don’t exactly have the time, she’s more than fine with it. she does like to take her time though, so they’re not more usual than normal sex

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ experiment- yes. take risks- ehh, not really. she doesn’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable by accident, so usually she’ll stick to what she knows. but if you want to try something she’s more than willing.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ do i even need to say anything? she can go at it until your legs are shaking, your face is stained with tears and there are no legible thought in your head. she herself doesn’t last very long. she was deprived of that kind of touch for so long that she can cum from the simplest things.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she has a strap and she will not let you use it on her. she just doesn’t find that comfortable. maybe has a small bullet vibrator she received as a gag gift or bought out of curiosity- it’s for both you and her.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ oh my fucking god she’s such a tease. literally the book definition. loves to hear you beg and to see your hips chasing after her touch. but if you try to do the same to her? oh- she’s blushing and shying away from you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ usually she tries to hold back her noises but does a shitty job at it. and when the strap comes in? she’s whining like she’s actually fucking you with her dick

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ in my head she is not a sub i’m so sorry guys. i just can’t see it. at all. she’s a switch leaning dom at best.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ she is strapped the fuck up, you cannot convince me otherwise. but i feel like she would wait and buy the strap once she’s actually with you, just so you could pick exactly what you wanted. she chose the color though- it matches her hair.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ very high, but in a giving way, not receiving. she can do it all day, every day. not even letting you get out of bed.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ it all depends on the day. sometimes she’ll fall asleep right after taking care of you, sometimes she’ll stay up for hours cuddling and pillow talking with you.

i’m a virgin

[bisexualoftheopera]

Twisted Wonderland Love Languages

Heartslabyul

Riddle: words of affirmation (his mother was not good for his self esteem and he often doubts himself)

Trey: quality time (sit by him as he bakes, keep him company. He's a simple man)

Cater: words of affirmation (he's depressed, we all know it. Reassurance that you love the real Cater and not just Cay-Cay is greatly appreciated)

Ace: physical touch (he likes holding you, not much to say)

Deuce: gift giving (he might not have a lot of money but he crafts the loveliest little things for you. He tries his best to get the little details right and make it pretty but sometimes he gets frustrated. He tries his best)

Savanaclaw

Leona: all of them (he's used to being second fiddle, the second born, all that. Show him you love him, constant sleeping and all, by doin this for him. Tell him you love how determined he is, tell him he's smart. Maybe play chess with him, give him cuddles, redo his braids when they come loose)

Jack: physical touch (wolf boy needs to be touching you, he doesn't know why. His tail wags when he does too, he's ashamed but as much as he pretends to grumble, he won't stop touching you)

Ruggie: words of affirmation (reassurance that he isn't just a sneaky thief with sticky fingers, that you actually trust him. He love) gift giving (he doesn't have much and sometimes he thinks he likely never will. Little homemade gifts always make his heart soar, you actually put time and effort into the thing for him? He love so much)

Octavinelle

Azul: physical touch (as shy as he is, he loves being held) words of affirmation (body issues from his past still creep up so a little reassurance is nice)

Jade: quality time (he likes going hiking with you, pointing out different fauna. Be there, show interest, the eel relishes in it)

Floyd: physical touch (he squeeze. He love when shrimpy squeeze back)

Scarabia

Kalim: physical touch (baby loves being held, he loves it so much) quality time (given his large amount of siblings he doesn't really get alone time so he'd love to spend some time just the two of you)

Jamil: words of affirmation (poor baby is full of doubt because he was always in Kalim's shadow) acts of service (he's used to taking care of Kalim and serving others so he'd love it if someone would take care of him for once)

Pomefiore

Vil: words of affirmation (yes, he knows he's beautiful, he knows he's awesome and all that. But being typecast as a villain all the time gets a man down, even him)

Rook: physical touch (if he could envelop you constantly, he would. Only thing stopping him for now is classes and Vil)

Epel: gift giving (farmboy works with his hands a lot, he likes crafting and giving you what he's made. Make sure you keep them all)

Igenhyde

Idia: words of affirmation (poor fire boy is shy and always feel crappy, reassure the man) acts of service (maybe you entered a draw to try and win one of his favorite game related things, maybe you brought him a snack while he grinds levels. Show him you care)

Ortho (platonic): quality time (he likes spending time with the people he loves and he loves you like you're part of his family)

Diasomnia

Malleus: all of them (good luck because this pouty dragon will definitely be showing you so much love in so many ways and he wants it shown in so many ways too)

Lilia: quality time (he doesn't have much time left by fae standards (maybe 100? 200? years) it's a pity he only met you now. He definitely loves spending time with you and won't hesitate to take any opportunity presented)

Silver: quality time (he spends most of his time falling asleep which isn't ideal for dates and such but he's trying so hard to stay awake for you. Make sure he knows that being in the same room is still quality time)

Sebek: gift giving (fae express their love this way, of course he'd do the same. He's fae! What did you expect from him, human?) words of affirmation (he's insecure about being half human. He isn't as strong, he won't live as long, he gets judged by other fae for being half human. He's not human enough for the humans and not fae enough for the fae. Reassurance (word of the post) is key)

[twstgarden]

❁ ❝ 𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀? ❞

━ third years and gn! reader (separate ; can be seen as platonic or romantic) ━ how unfortunate, you had to leave your dorm to buy some snacks in sam's shop, only to realise that the moment you stepped out of the mystery shop, a heavy rain started to drench you and your groceries. (f/n stands for first name)

do not steal or translate without my permission.

"thank you! all the best for your future!"

as you waved at sam, his goodbye greeting made you smile and bow politely at him before leaving his store. it was going to be a great day, or so you thought. you held the grocery bags in both hands as you started walking away with the intention to head back to your dorm, but the sudden roar of thunder followed by heavy rain hammering down sage's island said otherwise.

"damn it. just what i need."

you mumbled sarcastically to yourself, sighing heavily as you walked to a nearby bench under a tree. it was a little soaked with how heavy the rain was, but compared to the open streets, it was better. you looked back at sam's shop and wondered if you could purchase an umbrella, but you had no madols left - the ones you used to purchase the groceries do not have any change, so you were left with 0 madols in your pocket.

silently admitting your defeat, you sat on the bench. your clothes were already drenched, so why does it matter if you sat on a wet bench? at least sitting under this tree won't let the rain hit your face directly.

and so, there you were, sitting on the bench with your eyes up at the leaves of the tree, thinking about your next step. should you just run back to the dorm and say "fuck it"? or should you wait on this slightly drenched bench for the weather to be better?

you were about to do what you think is the best decision - even though, it's not, until a shadow cast over you. your view of the tree leaves was changed with a piece of fabric and what seemed like the interior of an umbrella.

❝ 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝����𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 ❞

"ooh, prefect? what are you doing in here all alone?"

that was the first thing you heard from your so-called saviour of the day. a semi-bright smile was seen on the heartslabyul third-year's lips as he stood beside you on the bench, covering your slightly drenched self from the rain.

"oh, cater, uh... i just finished my grocery shopping and i did not know it was going to rain today, so with my shitty luck, i got out of the shop and the rain started pouring... i did not have any madols left to buy an umbrella, so i sat here and... started thinking if i should just run back to my dorm or wait until the weather is clear."

cater let out a soft "ooohhh..." as you explained your little situation, then he urged you to stand up as he grabbed a few of your grocery bags, "i'll help you, then! we can share my umbrella."

you hummed softly and thanked him in response, standing up as you grabbed the remaining grocery bags that he did not carry. "what are you doing out here, though?" you asked, walking down the main street with cater by your side.

"oh, me? i just got back from the bakery at the foot of the hill and i knew it was gonna rain today, so i came prepared!"

lucky him for reading the weather forecast before going out, then.

after he said those words, cater let out a soft laugh as he nudged you a little bit and spoke with a teasing tone, "you should read the weather forecast every now and then, n/n~"

you snickered at his words and nudged him back by the elbow, "it was so sunny when i went out, literally there was no indication that it would rain! the world is out to get me, cay-kun, the world is out to get me."

as you both walked down the drenched streets of the campus, the sound of the heavy rain drowned both of your conversations and laughter. soon, you arrived at the front porch of your dorm, turning around to smile at cater as you gave him a little polite bow.

"thank you for coming to my rescue~ haha, just kidding, but thank you for accompanying me."

❝ 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ❞

“you’ll get sick if you stay drenched out here.”

a kind voice seeped through your ears as you looked up and saw trey looking down at you with a hint of concern in his eyes. he held his umbrella towards you, sheltering you from the heavy rain while searching through his pockets for a handkerchief, hoping it might at least dry you up a little.

“i did not know it was going to rain today,” you replied sheepishly, “but at least i got my groceries.”

“which are also drenched.”

“…yeah…”

a soft sigh followed by a laugh left his lips before grabbing your grocery bags and urging you to follow him. “come, i’ll bring you back to your dorm and prepare some soup,” said trey as he started walking with you in tow, making sure you’re still shielded by the umbrella.

“you’re a life saver, trey,” you spoke with a soft laugh, “if only i had read the forecast, then i would have been prepared for this.”

“is that a new lesson learned, n/n?” questioned trey rather teasingly. “oh totally,” you replied, “maybe i should pack an umbrella for emergencies… but then again, it would mean we wouldn’t meet in the rain like this.”

“oh, no. that is dangerous. you might get sick,” spoke trey, clearly not getting the hint that you were trying to say you wanted to see more of him.

‘ah… how dense…’

❝ 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 ❞

“are you trying to get sick?”

hearing leona’s voice made you look up as you replied, “of course not.”

“then don’t sit in the rain,” said leona as he continued sheltering you with the umbrella, “come, i’ll bring you to your dorm.”

without another word, you stood up with your grocery bags in hand and walked alongside the savanaclaw dorm leader. no words were exchanged for the time being, but he paused in his tracks the moment he caught you shivering a little and lent you his jacket.

“read the forecast next time,” scolded leona with a soft click of his tongue.

in response, you huffed, but held onto his jacket for warmth, “hmph, it was sunny out, so i did not think it would rain… but i think it was worth getting drenched in the rain.”

with a raised brow, leona asked, “huh?”

“’cause you became my savior!” you replied with a rather cheeky and teasing smile, wanting to joke around with him, but his deadpanned expression was ten times better in response. his deadpanned expression turned into a soft smirk as he said, “ah, you did that on purpose, then. you are as sly as ruggie despite being an herbivore.”

it was your turn to have a deadpanned expression.

“i’ve told you plenty of times that i am not an herbivore.”

“whatever you say.”

❝ 𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭 ❞

“my my, did you not know you’ll catch a cold just bysitting in the rain like that? tsk tsk,” spoke vil as he sighed and pulled you up, “what are you even doing out here?”

“oh, vil! i went out for groceries, and…” you trailed off.

“…you did not know it was going to rain today?” questioned vil.

“...yeah.”

“hm. figured.”

you blinked in response, watching as vil turned around and urged you to follow him while you carried your groceries – which were drenched, by the way. “you could have stayed in sam’s shop until the rain passed,” suggested vil, “rather than moping on the bench like a wet cat.”

“i did not think of that… i was thinking of buying an umbrella, but i no longer have any madols left,” you replied.

vil hummed in response as he pulled you closer to make sure you were walking under his umbrella. he can’t have you sick now, can he?

“next time, bring an umbrella for emergencies. yes, we are in sage’s island and the weather seems to be under control, but you have to be prepared. you’re lucky i even caught you out here,” scolded vil.

“okay, mom,” you muttered.

“what was that?” asked vil with a raised brow, as if daring you to repeat what you just said.

you quickly shook your head in response, “nothing! um… what are you doing out here anyway?”

“i just got back from the botanical garden,” replied vil, “i was looking for a specific plant for a project of mine.”

“oh, i see…” you replied before looking up and realising you were standing right in front of ramshackle’s gate, “ah, we’re here! thank you, vil!”

just as you were about to run off, vil caught your wrist and spoke, “what are you doing? running in the rain all the way to the front door? no. i will accompany you. you’ll surely get a cold and grim isn’t exactly capable of taking care of you now, is he?”

❝ 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 ❞

“oh la la~ seems i caught a sweet rabbit all alone.”

“rook, stop calling me that,” you quickly replied as you looked behind, “it’s creepy.”

with a soft laugh, rook proceeded to sit beside you, still holding onto the umbrella that now protected you both from the rain. “what might bring you here in this stormy afternoon?”

“groceries… and bad timing, i suppose,” you replied.

a dramatic sigh left his lips as he spoke, “mon dieu! how unfortunate. i shall take you home then, chérie.” as he stood up, he held his hand out towards you and smiled, “well, let’s get going, then.”

your walk back to ramshackle was a little quiet – well, you were. rook was busy talking and sharing a few things about his morning with vil and epel when you suddenly asked, “what were you doing out here, by the way?”

“ah, me? why, i was merely sightseeing!”

‘riiight… sightseeing…’ you thought to yourself.

“sightseeing… what… exactly?” you questioned, though at the same time, you wished you didn’t.

“wildlife, of course! just a lion in his natural habitat.”

‘called it,’ you thought.

“a-anyway, thank you for accompanying me, rook.”

❝ 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 ❞

“ortho?”

‘right… why would idia be out here anyway?’

“hello!” chirped ortho as he smiled at you while holding an umbrella. he was protected by his gear, so he clearly did not need the item as he handed it to you. “what are you doing out here, nee-/nii-san?”

“i was buying groceries,” you replied.

ortho hummed a little ‘oooo…’ in response before replying, “you should bring an umbrella with you next time!”

“ortho! wait for me!”

the sound of another voice caught you off guard as you looked away and saw idia heading towards you and ortho. “i should not have gone out,” muttered idia as he quickly hid behind the bench after reaching you.

“huh? idia?” out of pure confusion, you looked at him wide-eyed like a fish, “this is a first.”

a soft grumble was heard from the ignihyde dorm leader as he replied, “don’t start, n/n. i needed some snacks, but ortho insisted i leave my room and accompany him in this quest.”

“it’s not healthy to have junk foods as your entire diet,” you spoke.

“not this again,” mumbled idia.

you laughed a little and patted his shoulder, seeing as he was crouching behind the bench, “i’m just looking out for you. well, let’s go?” as you stood up, so did idia as ortho trailed behind you both.

the walk did not take long until you reached the front door. once you entered, you turned around and spoke, promptly inviting them into your home, “come, let’s play some games and enjoy the rainy weekend.”

❝ 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚 ❞

“child of man?”

a familiar voice made you turn around as you smiled and sighed softly in relief, and it took a few moments to realise the rain had abruptly stopped. “…huh? wasn’t it raining…?” you muttered, but as you looked at the man before you, he sported a frown.

“i did not realise you’d be out here. worry not, the rain has temporarily ceased. please, let me dry you off,” spoke malleus as he lifted his hand to cast a drying spell on you, but you knew just how powerful the gust of wind would be as you instinctively held onto the bench whilst he dries you off with his magic.

it did do the job, though, so you had no complaints.

“let me escort you back to your dormitory,” said he as you were about to grab your grocery bags, “and let me carry those.”

“wha- no, no, it’s alright. you don’t have to – “

“nonsense. this is the perfect chance to walk together, no?”

without another word, the grocery bags started floating beside you as he held a small smile on his face, gesturing you to follow him, and so you did. as you walked together and talked together, you couldn’t help but feel safe now that he was around.

“– and the order of their placement shows the most recent to the oldest carved gargoyles, which can also indicate just how long this academy has been around,” spoke malleus as he had been educating you on the gargoyles of night raven college, and you, of course, listened attentively.

all that talking made it seem like time was going too fast as you had already arrived at the front porch, causing you to sigh. “we’re already here? i wanted to hang out with you more,” you replied before realizing you had said those words out loud, which caused malleus to blink in surprise before smiling.

“we can always continue walking around. this building may seem old and decrepit, but it doesn’t mean it has no story to tell. don’t you think so, child of man?”

❝ 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞 ❞

“oh dear, by the seven, what is a poor little prefect doing out here?”

you huffed the moment you heard that before turning around to meet with lilia’s red eyes staring back at you with a teasing grin, but you knew he was worried about you as he quickly dried you off with a spell and held the umbrella over your head.

“you’ll get sick if you continue to soak yourself in the rain,” scolded lilia as if his teasing demeanor quickly turned into a parental one, “come, let’s bring you back to your humble abode.”

with a blink of an eye, lilia carried all your groceries in one swift motion, letting them float alongside you two as he hummed a happy tune while walking down the drenched main street. the umbrella continued to cover you from the rain as you stayed silent.

the short silence was cut by lilia as he gasped, “oh! i had completely forgotten. dear me, my memory must not be as sharp as it used to be.” confused, you blinked and looked at him, waiting for him to at least explain what he was talking about, but he had not said a word and instead, held your hand.

as you were about to ask what he was doing, you suddenly found yourself back in ramshackle’s foyer. did he just use his teleportation magic?

“…woah… that was so cool!”

you exclaimed, finding yourself amazed at the magical experience as you looked at lilia with a huge smile, “and you get to do that all the time? that’s so convenient! you are so cool, lilia.”

lilia laughed a little as he ruffled your hair, “look at you, gleaming like a kid looking at a candy. i suppose it is very cool, but cute is the best adjective to describe me, don’t you think so?”

“…um… yeah, sure.”

“is that hesitation i hear?”

you quickly shook your head, “no, not at all!”

in response, lilia smiled and patted your head, “then i am glad. i should reward you with a nutritious dinner made by yours truly.”

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[muwapsturniolo]

Crave 𓏢 M.Sturniolo

“Not as a king. Not as a god. But as a man stripped of everything but longing.”

⟢ Nsfw ahead! hades!matt, persephone!reader, plus-sized/mid-sized!reader, longing, yearning, mentions of prayer, touch, oral (f), bodily worship (aka sex). reader does have pubic hair and sorry if it's awkward but likeee....we talking greek goddesses, they was not out here shaving. #freethebush

this was inspired by a bot on cai, so cred to the creator on there! also, the story between these two is different than the original tale!

divider cred me.

The God of the Underworld felt something unfamiliar—weakness. It was a sensation he had never known, and all because of a mere goddess. She was light, and he was shadow—born of darkness, ruler of it. And yet, he wanted her. No, he needed her. From the moment he first heard her laughter—delicate and bright, drifting through Olympus on the golden winds of Apollo, her scent wrapped within it—something stirred inside him. For the first time, he smiled. A flicker of warmth sparked in the depths of his being, a light he didn’t know he was capable of holding.

Demeter noticed it instantly—the way his eyes followed her daughter, the way he looked at her as if no other goddess dared exist in the same space. There was hunger in his gaze, but something softer too, something far more dangerous. The Lord of the Underworld had set his sights on Persephone, and Demeter would not let darkness claim her light.

“He’s no good,” she said, her voice low and sharp like a blade. “He’s not just cold—he’s cruel. Twisted. You are spring itself, and he is rot. It would never work. He’d snuff out your warmth, drain the life from you like he’s drained it from everything else.”

Demeter’s words rooted themselves deep in her daughter’s mind, planted like seeds of warning. Persephone’s desire to please her mother was strong—perhaps too strong.

She tried to drive him away. Tried to shatter whatever hold he believed she had on him. When he came near, she met him with fire—screaming, cursing, warning him to stay back. Her threats were fierce, desperate, laced with the fear she refused to admit. But he never wavered. No matter how cruel her words, no matter how cold her eyes, he did not flinch. His eyes held no anger, only something far more dangerous—devotion.

He wanted her. Fiercely, completely. No mother's disapproval, no boundary drawn in sunlight could change the truth burning in his immortal chest: she was his desire, his undoing, and he would not let her slip from his grasp.

He became obsessed.

A shadow in her life, slipping into every moment she thought was hers alone. She felt him before she saw him—always watching, always near. He haunted her days like a whispered promise, impossible to ignore. And though she tried to deny it, something about his presence stirred her curiosity. His darkness frightened her… but his patience and control fascinated her even more.

He was never known for patience or control. He acted on impulse, ruled by emotion rather than reason. That was the version of him she had grown up hearing—cruel, volatile, incapable of gentleness. But the man who stood before her now didn’t match the stories.

He was still fierce, yes—but quiet. Watchful. There was a weight in his gaze, not hunger. A steadiness in his presence that unsettled her, not because it frightened her—but because it didn’t.

It wasn’t adding up.

And so, with caution in her breath and hesitation in her steps, she began—slowly—to let him in.

The island where she had grown up—bathed always in warmth and wild beauty—was now slipping into twilight. The air hummed softly with life; mythological and mortal creatures alike rustled through the trees, their songs growing quieter as they prepared for sleep. Golden leaves swayed gently in the evening breeze, whispering secrets only the gods could hear.

By a secluded stream, the young goddess- disregarding her toka- waded into the lukewarm water, its touch wrapping around her like silk. She lowered herself slowly, letting the calm wash over her, the weight of the day dissolving with each ripple.

Above her, the sky blazed with a fading fire—sunset cascading over the island in brilliant shades of orange and rose. The water sparkled beneath its glow, as if kissed by starlight before the night had even begun.

She knew he was watching.

Hidden in the dimming edge of the woods, just beyond the reach of golden light, he lingered like a secret the island refused to keep. She felt him there—the chill in the breeze that kissed her shoulder, the stillness in the trees when everything else moved. His gaze clung to her as she bathed, quiet and consuming.

And she let it.

She let him see her, all of her—not with shame, not with fear, but with a strange calm. There was no urgency in his watching, no crude desire. Only devotion, intense and wordless. He saw her not as something to possess, but something to revere.

And for a moment, she felt like more than a goddess.

His eyes followed the graceful line of her spine, the soft curve of her hips, the way the water traced the hollows and heat between her thighs. She was art made flesh—divine and untouchable. Her scent floated to him on the breeze—sweet nectar and blooming petals—and it hit him like a spell. He groaned, low and quiet, a sound born of hunger and something deeper, something desperate.

Before he could think, his body betrayed him. His feet moved toward the stream, slow and certain, as if drawn by an invisible thread. His heart pounded against his ribs, wild and unrelenting, like a storm building beneath his skin.

“Hades...”

The sound of his name on her lips sent a harsh shiver up his spine. Her voice—soft, silken, and unbearably sweet—was the cruelest kind of torture. A melody wrapped in thorns. It undid him.

This wasn’t how it was meant to be. Gods weren’t supposed to want. They weren’t meant to need. Desire was for mortals—fleeting, foolish.

But here he stood.

Wanting her.

Needing her.

More than he’d ever needed anything in his immortal existence.

He moved toward her, silent and sure, the cool water rising to soak his pants. The fabric clung to him, heavy and forgotten. He didn’t care. All that mattered was her—glowing like molten gold in the fading light, back turned, skin bare and damp with river water.

He would’ve waded through the River of Styx if she asked, he would drown himself if she told him, give up his crown without hesitation.

He said nothing. The stream rippled softly around them, the hush of twilight thick in the air. She didn’t turn, but she felt him—every inch of his presence pressing against her back like a breath not yet exhaled.

Her pulse fluttered. She remained still, though her body betrayed her, chest rising faster, fingers twitching at her sides.

He stood just behind her now, close enough that her warmth brushed against him, close enough to reach out and touch—but he didn’t.

Because this—this moment—was hers to command.

“I hear you every night,” she said softly, her fingers gliding through the surface of the stream, sending delicate ripples out into the fading light. “Praying to me. Worshipping me like a mortal worships the gods.”

She didn’t look at him. Her gaze remained locked on the horizon, where the sun bled into the water and dusk kissed the edges of the sky. But her voice—low, knowing—struck him harder than any blade.

His breath caught in his throat.

Her words, quiet as they were, peeled him open.

His bright blue eyes shimmered, not with power, but with something far rarer: vulnerability. She had unmasked him, laid bare the secret devotions he whispered when no one else could hear—words not meant to reach her ears, prayers born not of duty, but of need.

“I hear the longing,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a breath. “The yearning—the ache in your voice when you call for me in the dark. Wishing I could be yours. Wishing you could hold me close.”

Her fingers drifted over the water’s surface, rippling the quiet like whispered secrets.

“It comes to me just before I close my eyes,” she continued, never turning to meet him. “Your words—soft, raw, full of a devotion no god dares speak aloud. So fragile, it feels almost like a lullaby.”

A faint, knowing smile curved her lips.

Behind her, his breath caught, his bright blue eyes shimmering with a vulnerability he had long hidden. She had heard him—all of him.

“You crave me,” she said quietly, the words curling through the air like smoke. “But not in lust… in something more.”

A soft splash broke the silence.

She turned—slowly, gracefully—and found him there.

Hades. On his knees in the water.

The god who ruled death now knelt before her, soaked to the waist, his frame trembling with restraint. His eyes—usually so cold, so unreadable—blazed with something raw. Something human.

Desperation. Worship. Need.

And then, the words began to pour out.

Not the thunder of a king, not the commands of a god—but prayers. Soft, broken things. Fragments of the quiet devotions he thought no one could hear. They spilled from his lips now, one after another, stripped bare and trembling, rising like incense into the fading light.

He had hidden it for so long.

But now, before her, he gave it all away.

And he never looked more mortal than in that moment.

His voice shook as it left him, barely louder than the water around them.

“I speak your name every night as the world above sleeps,” he whispered, eyes never leaving hers. “Not as a king. Not as a god. But as a man stripped of everything but longing.”

The island seems to stop breathing, everything around them silent, almost as if it were listening.

“I pray for your warmth to reach the hollows I rule,” he went on, breath unsteady, “I ache for your light to touch even the edges of my darkness, to be worthy to bask in it. I crave your voice… not to command me, but to calm me. I crave you. Not to possess. Not to own. But to be near. To belong to something pure, something warm. Something alive.”

His hands stayed clenched at his sides, trembling beneath the water. The urge to touch her was overwhelming—bone-deep and maddening. To trace the line of her collarbone, to cup her face, to let his fingertips memorize the warmth of her skin.

But he didn’t move.

He wouldn’t.

Because this wasn’t about desire. It was about choice. Her choice.

And he would not take that from her—not even for a moment.

So he remained there, knees sunk into the stream, every muscle wound tight with restraint. His fingers dug into his palms, the sharp bite of his own nails keeping him grounded. She stood just beyond his reach, glowing in the last breath of sunlight like something sacred.

He wanted nothing more than to fall into her. But more than that—he wanted her to want him.

To come to him of her own will. To choose him—not out of pity or curiosity, but because something inside her ached the way he ached.

“Please…”

The word fell from his lips like a prayer unraveling. It was broken, breathless, soaked in desperation—but quiet. Gentle. It held no demand, no force. Only longing.

She looked down at him—the god of the underworld—kneeling in the water as if it were holy ground, eyes wide with vulnerability, fists clenched in restraint. He wasn’t reaching for her. He wouldn’t. Not unless she asked.

A storm churned inside her.

What he wanted—what they wanted—was forbidden. Every law, every expectation whispered against this. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head, sharp and cold. He’ll ruin you. He’s darkness. Stay in the light.

But as she looked at him now, soaked and shaking beneath her gaze, she didn’t see darkness. She saw devotion. She saw a god on his knees—not in power, but in surrender.

And despite everything she had been told, everything she had tried to deny…

She wanted him.

Not for what he was. But for how he looked at her. Like she was the only thing in all the realms worth worshiping.

She stepped closer, the heat of his breath brushing her skin. Her eyes locked with his, vulnerable yet resolute.

“Touch me,” she whispered—soft, but firm, a plea and a command wrapped into one.

His breath caught. The simple words carried the weight of everything unspoken between them. He swallowed hard, trembling, as his hand slowly rose, reaching toward her with a mixture of reverence and longing.

His palm pressed gently but firmly against her thigh, a shiver of both exhilaration and calm pulsing through his veins. A low, throaty groan escaped him as his touch deepened, growing more urgent, more hungry.

His other hand followed, settling on her other thigh with deliberate intent, fingers digging into the soft, yielding flesh. The sensation sparked a fire beneath his skin—a fierce, possessive need tempered by a careful reverence, as if he feared breaking the delicate balance between them.

Every movement was charged with an intoxicating blend of desire and restraint, a silent promise of what was to come.

His temple pressed gently against the soft curve of her stomach, his back arching as he breathed in her intoxicating scent—an ache that consumed him whole. His hands traveled eagerly along her thighs, hungry and trembling with longing.

“Please,” he murmured, voice thick with devotion and need, “let me worship you. Worship you like the goddess you are. Please.”

She should have pulled away—should have said no, before the moment slipped beyond control. Before desire tangled too tightly with reason, before the shadows threatened to swallow the light she carried. But she didn’t.

Instead, she stayed still, her breath trembling, heart pounding in a reckless rhythm she couldn’t deny. Every fiber of her was alight with a dangerous craving, a hunger she hadn’t expected but couldn’t resist.

The line between caution and surrender blurred. She knew she should have stopped him.

"Worship me Hades."

But she didn’t.

He let out a soft, trembling moan the instant she granted him permission—a sound both desperate and tender, breaking free after years of silence. It was an unspoken vow, a quiet surrender to the ache that had consumed him, now given space to breathe and grow between them.

He pulled her closer, his hands steady yet tender as his lips began to plant soft, lingering kisses along the gentle pudge of her stomach. With every brush of his mouth, he murmured quiet thank yous—soft, breathy whispers filled with awe and gratitude—like a sacred ritual, honoring the goddess before him.

He lifted one of her legs gently over his shoulder, bringing himself face to face with the heat nestled beneath the soft curls of her hair. A surge of hunger flickered through him, making his breath hitch and his body tense; the familiar weight pressing against his pants grew taut, aching with need.

His eyes locked with hers—deep, pleading pools of blue—searching for permission, for connection beyond words.

“Call me by my name,” he whispered, voice thick with urge. “Not the one they gave me… call me by my name.”

Her fingers threaded slowly through his hair, gentle and deliberate, as if grounding him in the moment. With her other hand, she cradled his face, her palm soft against the sharp lines of his jaw. He leaned into her touch instinctively, eyes searching hers with something deeper than desire—something aching, human.

She held him there, steady and close, letting the silence stretch—charged, sacred—until she finally spoke.

“…Matthew.”

The name came like a quiet invocation. Not a title. Not a myth. Him.

Matthew.

It ignited a hunger deeper than desire—something rooted in soul, not just body. With a reverent growl, he pressed forward, burying himself in the heat of her, the scent of her pulling him under like a tide.

She gasped softly, her fingers still tangled in his hair, as his tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along her folds—broad and unhurried. He groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her, savoring the way she responded to him.

His hands gripped her thighs tighter, not in possession, but in devotion—anchoring himself as he gave in completely to her.

His lips found the place that made her breath stutter, wrapping around the bundle of nerves with care. He moved with purpose, tongue flicking, lapping, tasting like he was learning the shape of worship.

Then, slowly, one hand slid away from her thigh, trailing down with intention. He let his fingers tease before gently pressing one inside her, feeling the way her body welcomed him, the heat, the trust.

Every movement was full of reverence—hungry, yes, but grounded in something sacred.

She wasn’t just a goddess to him.

She was the altar.

And he was praying the only way he knew how.

His pace stayed steady—deliberate, reverent. Not rushed, not slow. Just enough to draw soft gasps from her lips, just enough to ground himself in every moment, every taste, every sound she gave him.

He didn’t want to hurry this. He couldn’t. He had prayed for her in silence, in shadow, in aching solitude. For lifetimes, it seemed. And now, with her here—real, warm, willing—he was determined to feel every second stretch.

His hands held her as though she might slip away, his mouth moving with devotion, not urgency. Each motion was worship, every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers meant to show her not just want—but worth.

She was everything he’d been denied. Everything he thought he wasn’t allowed to have. And now… she was giving herself to him.

He didn’t just touch her. He learned her. With every breath, every kiss, every quiet moan that vibrated in the space between them.

She gasped, the sound soft and sharp, pulled from her lips without thought. Her fingers tangled tighter in his hair as her hips began to move—slow, instinctive, guided by the aching pleasure he gave her.

Her head fell back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted as she rocked gently against his mouth. Her skin burned, every inch of her alive with sensation. The air felt thick, charged, her body trembling as ecstasy bloomed slow and deep within her.

He didn’t rush her—he matched her. Let her move. Let her lead. His hands steadied her, his mouth never breaking rhythm, each flick of his tongue and press of his lips a silent vow: I’m here. I won’t stop. Not until you come apart in my hands.

She felt herself begin to unravel, caught between fire and surrender, pleasure building like a wave just about to crest. And in the midst of it all—his name, his true name—still lingered on her tongue like a secret only she was allowed to speak.

“Matthew…”

His name fell from her lips in a broken whisper, trembling and raw. She said it again, louder this time—desperate, pleading—as her fingers tightened in his hair, her body arching toward him.

“Matthew—please, don’t stop,” she begged, her voice catching on a gasp. “Please… take all of me. I want you to—take all of me.”

She was unraveling in his hands, in his mouth, her body trembling as waves of pleasure surged higher. Her hips rocked with growing urgency, chasing the release he built with every steady, reverent stroke of his tongue.

“Drink me in,” she cried, eyes glossy, voice cracking with need. “I’m yours—please, please…”

It wasn’t just surrender—it was worship in return.

A goddess, undone by the only man who had ever touched her like she was sacred- a goddess falling into the only love she’d ever known.

And he answered her prayer, not with words, but with every breath, every touch- devouring her completely.

Her eyes clenched shut as waves of release crashed over her, a sharp gasp torn from her throat, the breath knocked from her lungs entirely. She trembled above him, raw and unguarded.

Matthew closed his own eyes, every sense focused on her—swallowing each drop of her essence with greed. He refused to let a single trace slip away, drinking her in completely, as if she were the very breath sustaining him.

He pulled away from her core, his lips swollen and flushed from their sinful prayers, and gently lowered her leg back into the water. She gazed down at him, chest rising and falling with need, eyes dark with longing.

Slowly, the goddess sank to her own knees beside him. Her hands rose to cradle his face again, fingers tracing the lines of his jaw with tenderness and fire. Without hesitation, she drew him close—until their lips met at last, soft and hungry, a kiss that spoke of worship, desire, and a bond forged in shadows and light.

Their bodies crashed into the water, waves rippling around them as need overtook caution. The world beyond them blurred—there was only this moment, only each other.

Hands roamed with urgency, desperate to feel, to claim, to remember. Lips met in a fevered kiss, all hunger and heat, as if they'd been starving and had only just found air.

The water clung to their skin, slick and warm, but even that was forgotten in the whirlwind of touch and breath and unspoken promises.

They clung to one another, wild and unrestrained, completely and irrevocably lost—in the moment, in the madness, in the kind of need that felt like destiny.

“I want you… all of you,” he breathed, voice low and desperate against her lips, as if the truth was tearing free from his chest.

She didn’t hesitate. Her fingers were already tugging at the waistband of his pants, driven by need, by the gravity that had been pulling them together from the moment they first touched. He moaned softly into her mouth, the sound unraveling between them, warm and broken.

He kissed her like he was starving, then broke away only to trail his lips down her face, down the curve of her jaw, the slope of her neck. Her skin was damp and flushed, her breaths shaky as she held onto him, pulling him closer still.

When his mouth found her collarbone, he lingered—biting back the urge to rush, to take. And when he reached her chest, her hands cradled the back of his head, guiding him as her whimper broke through the thick silence.

His lips closed around her nipple, tongue flicking gently before his teeth grazed her with teasing care. She arched into him with a soft gasp, her grip tightening in his hair.

He pulled away just enough to strip himself of the last barrier between them, his hands shaking slightly as he tugged his pants down. His length sprang free, hard and flushed, slapping against his abdomen as he exhaled a trembling breath.

Then he was over her again—hovering, not with dominance, but with awe. His body aligned with hers, warm and trembling, every muscle taut with restraint. He braced himself with a hand beside her, the other gently trailing along her side, as if to steady them both.

His eyes searched hers, wide open, full of reverence.

He didn’t rush.

He waited.

For her word. For her yes. For her want.

Because though he was ready to give himself completely, he needed to know—she was ready to take him.

His voice trembled against her skin, thick with hunger and something far more fragile—need, not just of the body, but of the soul.

“Say it,” he breathed, his lips brushing her collarbone once more, his hands tightening slightly at her waist. “I need to hear it… that you want me. All of me.”

He lifted his gaze to hers, eyes wide, vulnerable beneath the heat. It wasn’t dominance—it was a plea. A man laid bare in the arms of the one thing he thought he’d never have.

“Not just this,” he whispered, pressing a hand to her chest, over her heart. “Say you want me. Fully. Completely. Without fear.”

Her gaze held his, soft but unwavering, her breath steady despite the storm of feeling between them. There was something unspoken in her eyes—tenderness, trust… something dangerously close to love.

Her hand rose to his face, fingers curling gently along his jaw as she pulled him just a little closer, grounding them in the moment.

“I want you…” she whispered, voice thick with truth, “all of you. The darkness. The decay. Everything you think makes you unlovable—I want that too.”

Her words weren’t coated in hesitation or fear.

They were raw.

Real.

An offering.

He accepted it—her offering, her trust—with a fierce, unwavering hunger.

In one smooth, deliberate motion, he slid deep inside her warm, velvet embrace. A breath hitched in his throat as his eyes fluttered closed, his entire body trembling with the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

Every nerve burned, every muscle coiled, as they moved together—no longer god and goddess, but two souls merging, raw and whole, in a sacred, timeless union.

He buried his head into the hollow of her neck, teeth sinking gently into her soft, warm skin. A low, possessive growl escaped him as she moaned aloud, her fingers digging deep into the smooth, milky expanse of his back—gripping him tightly, as if anchoring herself to the moment and to him.

Little did they know, their union was stirring turmoil far below. While some towns found themselves blanketed in unexpected snow, frost glinting like shards of glass on the earth, just miles away others were scorched by blazing heat, their crops bursting into bloom beneath the unrelenting sun.

Chaos rippled through the mortal world—discordant, wild, unpredictable.

Yet within that chaos, a fragile balance was forming.

Their union had tipped the scales, setting nature’s eternal cycle into motion—destruction and creation, shadow and light, forever intertwined.

He rasped against her ear, voice raw and urgent, “I’ll worship you forever—”

Her moan deepened, a sound born of need and surrender, “—for as long as you let me. I’ll bow to you, kneel on shards of glass if it means you’ll be mine.”

Every word was a vow, a desperate promise forged in fire and desire— a pledge to hold her, to honor her, to claim her heart and soul without hesitation or fear.

She gasped, voice trembling as she barely managed to choke out, “I—I’m yours.”

A sharp, high moan escaped her lips as he slammed into her with renewed force, every movement urgent and desperate.

“Say it again,” he growled, the edge of his release tightening with each thrust, fueled by the sound of her claim.

“Y-yours! I’m—oh gods, Matthew—I’m yours!”

Her words broke through him like wildfire, setting them both aflame as they tumbled together toward their consuming climax.

A raw, guttural groan tore from his throat as his release overtook him, his body locking as he pressed deep, unmoving, overwhelmed. The heat of it poured from him, claiming her in a way that was more than physical—something sacred, something final. He held her like a lifeline, as if the very act of being inside her was the only thing keeping him grounded.

She shattered around him moments later, her body arching into his, legs trembling violently as pleasure overtook her in waves. Her head tilted back, eyes rolling as her breath caught—every nerve alight, her ears ringing from the force of it. It wasn’t just bliss; it was a breaking open.

A surrender. A binding.

They clung to each other through it, through the storm of sensation and soul, until all that remained was breath, heartbeat, and the quiet, unshakable truth that something had changed.

Forever.

EEEKKKKK i hope yall enjoy this! i took all day to write it and was battling myself with how to write it. feel free to check out my og demi god series here!

[koinotame]

how dangerous the twst cast is as yanderes

content warnings: this is yandere stuff so plenty of relationships and mindsets of questionable healthiness. reader implied to be yuu. mentions of murder and violence (nothing explicit/graphic, but frequent. mostly not aimed at reader). most are pretty ambiguous wrt being romantic or platonic (though it’s assumed they have an at least somewhat close relationship with you). i don’t think there’s any explicit spoilers but this was written with mostly-up-to-date knowledge so maybe beware if you really want to avoid any spoilers

whole main cast is included, under the cut for length (near 4k words)! if you read ortho's section as incestuous or romantic in any other way i will shoot a laser beam at you.

fairly harmless overall ▸ i actually normally wouldn't put them together, but in either case i can't see either of the adeuce duo being too dangerous to others. yeah, they might beat someone up for getting too close to you or hurting you, but i really really can't see either of them going much farther. deuce in particular used to be a delinquent, and he does sometimes slip back into that mindset, and he does know how to beat someone up well… but he's a good boy now. your good boy. even in his delinquent phase he would've never actually killed someone, and the idea horrifies him a little too much to ever seriously consider. ace has a bit less restraint, but also a lot less experience. what he lacks in experience he does more than make up for in wit and quick learning, but… while the thought does cross his mind occasionally, he wouldn't be able to stomach actually killing someone either. he'll beat someone up if they hurt you or you ask him to though. unlike deuce, he'll probably brag about it to you if he knows your reaction would be positive.

▸ don’t you worry! your cay-kun would never kill someone! in fact, cater is very unlikely to get violent at all. when he gets jealous (which happens pretty often), he turns that bitterness inside. what do they have that he doesn’t? do you like quieter guys? is he too obsessed with magicam? do you not like the way he doesn’t let you in unless you push, because he’s too afraid you won’t like what you find and leave? is he not affectionate enough? do you not like his hair? it doesn’t matter what it is about him that you don’t like, about others that you do like. he’ll fix the problem; he’ll fix himself. he’s already used to putting on acts around others—this isn’t that different. even if it’s not him you like at this point, as long as he can stay by your side, it’ll be fine. there’s a desperate edge to his actions that’s hard to spot, but once you have is impossible to unsee. as long as you continue liking him, he’ll throw away who he is—just. don’t throw him aside once you’re bored of him, okay? keep him around forever. please. ▸ jack is another that’s fairly harmless. it’s in his nature to be overprotective, and he doesn’t see much wrong with that, but he has no issue with your friends and he’s pretty reasonable at telling apart actual threats from things like jokes. he’s much like your guard dog… or maybe he’s more like guard puppy, with the way you doubt he’d ever actually hurt anyone despite his big stature. he’s embarrassed when you tell him this, but the wagging of his tail gives away just how much he likes knowing you’re okay with—even like—his constant presence. he’s not… completely against going behind your back when someone is actually about to hurt you to deal with he issue, though. just… just occasionally, when it’s really necessary. he won’t make a habit of it. he just… doesn’t want you to see him like that. he’d never want to scare you. that’s all.

a bit less harmless but not by (too) much ▸ riddle is good and well behaved and refuses to resort to something as drastic as violence or murder, or at least he’s trying very hard to convince himself so. he’s definitely somewhat tyrannical to everyone around you even after he mellows out after his overblot, and he has no hesitation in punishing those who hurt or displease you, especially his own dormmates. even once both of you graduate, this habit of his never quite vanishes. he gets a little frantic if you show disapproval of his actions though, especially if you seem scared of him. he’s desperate to prove that he’s good and loves you and would never hurt you, and if that means toning down his ardour, he’ll try his best. the stress of possibly losing you just makes him all the more overbearing to everyone around him. he’s trying his best for you though, so… don’t you love him as much as he loves you? won’t you turns your eyes back to him and only him? ▸ kalim would never kill someone! nor would he have someone be killed. but his family's wealth and influence extends far, and anyone seeking to hurt you (or him through you) would be a fool to think otherwise. he'd never kill someone, but making sure they end up rotting in prison for the rest of their life is just doing the right thing! he might be a little blinded by his panic, sure, but— they tried to hurt you! if he's really jealous (something that doesn't happen often—he only has eyes for you, after all, so he tends to not think too much about others), it's not hard to just have them transfer. or be fired. or something. he won't tell you outright, but if you ask he sees no point in hiding it from you. if you don't react well, he gets a little frantic and insists that he really really really wouldn't ever go farther than that…! probably. ▸ epel getting into yet another fistfight for you is something you’ve grown unfortunately used to. you’re frankly convinced he outright wants you to see at this point, maybe in some misconceived idea it’ll make you think he’s tough, with the way he runs up to you like a puppy expecting praise afterwards. he’ll be torn if you fuss over him afterwards—on one hand, he wants you to think he’s tough and your coddling doesn’t really give the impression that you understand that, but it feels really, really nice when your attention is focused on only him. but as unrestrained as epel is, he’s not particularly dangerous. if you seem really put off by his actions, he might even rein it in a little (vil is glad for your cooperation, even if that wasn’t your intention). he’s more preoccupied with earning your attention and approval than he is with stuff like keeping other suitors away from you. ▸ i just think it’d be really funny if despite everything about him, rook is one of the most harmless. he’s the type of yandere to have a shrine (it’s not in his closet because he has no shame) and have his room covered in notes about you but who’d never actually kill someone. he’s also… the type who enjoys and loves everything about you. to rook, the journey is more important than the destination, and that includes you. the you on your own, the you around your friends (not that they’ll stick around too much once they notice rook), and the you around him are all different and equally worth loving. he’s not exactly shy about his stalking either, but once you get used to his constant presence, it doesn’t really get worse. maybe a little more intense, but not worse. he’s fine with pretty much any way you want to treat him, too—whether you treat him like a beloved pet or a plaything or act like you don’t know or notice him, he’ll love you all the same. forever.

holds themselves back… but not because of ethics ▸ when trey thinks about the future he wants with you, he allows himself to imagine what it would be like to be so wholly engrossed in each other that everything else might as well not exist. unfortunately, the two of you live in real life and not in a fairy tale, so he’s settled for the idea of eventually settling down and growing old with you. it’s… not entirely ethics that holds him back. he’s aware that most of the urges he gets when he sees you around others or when he sees you get hurt in someway are immoral, and he reigns himself in. aside from some people in your life suddenly finding it odd how the ever dependable senior suddenly doesn’t seem to like them much and has been giving them the cold shoulder, most people are very unlikely to realise there’s anything off about trey… including you. just let him be your normal (if fairly fussy) boyfriend, okay? and if he occasionally slips a bit of a sleeping potion into your food and masks the taste with his unique magic so you end up staying the night just so he can spend a little more time with you… that can be his little secret. ▸ it's definitely not ethics that holds ruggie back, but it would be a serious problem if he gets caught killing someone. or even just gets particularly violent with someone else. he'd do it in a heartbeat, especially for you (especially if you asked him), don't get him wrong, but, well— if he goes to jail, he's fucking his family over. if he goes to jail, he won't be able to provide for you in the future—or have any sort of relationship with you. his resolve might waver if you were to actually ask, but even then he’s determined to stick to actions he can reasonably get away with. it's not uncommon for him to use laugh with me to embarrass any guys he thinks are getting too close to you though, and it's not too hard to be discreet with his unique magic when someone really deserves to fall face down a flight of stairs. or three. oopsie. odd they don't remember it, huh? well, he had nothing to do with that. ▸ jamil is a bit more restrained. murder is fine (it’s definitely not his first resort, but it’s there as an option if he really needs it—he did kind of try to kill five people, even if it was during his overblot), but using snake whisper is just so much more convenient… most of the time. due to his position as a servant of kalim, he has to carefully consider any actions he takes unless he wants there to be dire consequences for his family. unfortunately for him, this means he can’t just beat up anyone getting too close to you no matter how much he may feel like it. his unique magic does work well for him here though—and he’s not opposed to using more force if there’s a good reason (like impressing you and getting complimented by y—ehem. making sure your bullies won’t bother you again). the one person he’d rather not use his unique magic on is you. what he likes so much about you is that you’re choosing him of your own volition, and that’s worth more than any force could get him.

not the worst, but… ▸ azul tries really, really hard to keep everything he does behind your back, well. behind your back. he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty, but it would be a serious problem if you found out about the students he's been tricking into unfair contracts just because he got jealous. and it'd be one thing if it ended there, but more than that… if anyone hurts you, the tweels haven't amassed a certain reputation for nothing. if azul’s this fond of you, there’s a very high chance they’re familiar with you as well—and even if they weren’t, azul being jealous enough to send them after people that aren’t even remotely threatening your relationship is amusing enough for them to comply. he won’t go too far though, no matter how envious he may get. ruining someone’s reputation, having the twins beat them up or tricking them into unfair deals is one thing, but even someone like azul wouldn’t resort to cold-blooded murder. ▸ remember when vil, pretty lucid, tried to poison neige? yeah. with his unique magic and social standing, it would be really easy to get rid of anyone causing you issues. of course, with you being aware of his unique magic, he’d have to be careful to make sure you don’t realise, so it’s something he’d reserve for only actual emergencies. it’s also a lot easier to abuse his influence and fame to keep others away from you, whether it’s by threatening them himself or getting others to do his dirty work for him. when it comes to you and keeping your attention on him, he finds it much more rewarding to keep working on himself to meet your standards and doting on you even much than he already does. keep your eyes on him and only on him, won’t you? he’ll make it worth your while. ▸ idia, as a yandere, is incredibly desperate. he’s already perfectly content (well, not perfectly, but content enough) to just watch you through his screen and maybe chat with you online (with your anonymous pal who you definitely don’t know irl, of course), so if he gets lucky enough to be with you for real, there’s very little he won’t be willing to do to ensure it stays that way. in practice this means trying to appeal to you more than anything else; if you seem even the slightest bit unhappy with him, he’s desperately trying to fix it immediately. do you think he’s too offputting? he’ll cover his mouth and hair and— are you mad because he tried to convince you to ditch your friends and just stay with him again? he’s sorry! he doesn’t have an excuse, he’s just scared that you’ll realise you could do so much better and don’t like him that much after all. sometimes he thinks about how he definitely has the resources for more forceful and permanent measures, but then you smile at him, or tell him his smile is pretty, or run your fingers through his hair, or laugh at a comment he made and his mind goes blank and gives him a 404 error. there’s no way he could ever give that up just for some measly certainty… though the same can’t be said for those who he gets too jealous of or those who hurt you. not that you need to know that.

not needlessly violent ▸ sebek is… very enthusiastic about the things he dedicates himself to. this includes you. if you thought his devotion to malleus was excessive, it’s even worse when it comes to you. while he has no personal issues with fighting if it means protecting you (whether that protecting includes only actual threats is debatable), he takes pride in his position as malleus’ retainer. this means that no matter how he feels, he has to consider how his actions would make briar valley and his lord look. he also doesn’t really get jealous. instead (and this is almost worse), he has his own idea of how everyone else should treat you and he does get aggressive with others if he doesn’t think they’re treating you right. you deserve a heavy amount of respect and he finds it very aggravating when others don’t give you that (see: treat you like a regular person). he’s not subtle either—if anything, going behind your back on this would go against his values. he wants to be useful to you!!! he wants you to know how much he cares and how you’re superior and the one with all the power in this relationship!!! the good thing is he listens to everything to ask of him, no matter how ridiculous he finds you insisting you prefer being treated casually by your friends and peers. ▸ silver, while less outwardly enthusiastic, is no less devoted. he doesn’t really get jealous (there’s a dull ache in his chest when he sees you with others and thinks about the possibility of someone being more important to you than you are to him, but that’s not jealousy, right?), and he’s fairly realistic about what counts as a threat to you and what doesn’t. the problem is that as soon as something crosses that threshold, he’s drawing his wand (or baton. or sword. he’s trained and prepared with all three). it’s almost scarier than if he were enjoying it, because you have absolutely no clue how far he’s willing to go for your safety—or if he even has any limits when it comes to you. he has a rather twisted view on relationships, and that extends to you. you’ve been so kind and accommodating and caring, and he needs to repay you for that. he’s insistent on serving you, because his entire self worth (and by extension any care you’ve gracefully granted him) relies on being useful. also doesn’t really see himself as your proper equal, though he’s less aware of this compared to sebek, and also listens well to just about anything you ask of him. if it’s for you, he’d do anything. ▸ you have a very different definition of "not needlessly violent" than lilia, but it’s at least true he doesn’t go around picking fights. he's not bothered at all by baby chicks clinging too close to you. if anything, he might pop into the conversation and agree with them—you are great and wonderful and adorable and so much more! it makes the conversation kind of awkward, and whoever you were talking to might not seek you out as much afterwards, but beyond teasing you there's never any indication that he goes any further. of course, violence is something he’s been very accustomed to over his long life, so when someone actually hurts you he has no issue with getting the message across in a more… drastic way. as soon as he's done, he's right back to coddling you. they won't be repeating the same mistake again, so don't worry too much about it and stick close to him from now on, okay?

very needlessly violent ▸ violent probably isn’t the best way to describe leona, but he doesn’t hold back when it comes to you. what, you think he’s just going to sit back and let you go? you’re the best thing that’s happened to him, like hell he’s going to not put in the proper effort in keeping you. …even if you’re not sure if you entirely agree with the sentiment. he gets jealous very often, so it’s common to see him glowering and scaring off anyone he deems too close to you. there’s no need to go further when he knows they’ll leave you both alone afterwards, but the threat only works as well as it does because he has both the magical prowess and social influence to make good on his promises. he’ll insist he doesn’t see them as threats so much as pests hanging around and leeching off of you, but there’s some part of him deep down that’s scared you’ll decide you like someone else better after all. he’s not sure he could take even you leaving him. any actual danger to you is also dealt with quickly, and while he doesn’t want to threaten you into it, you won’t have an easy time abandoning him even if you try. you were the one who wormed your way into his life—you don’t get to leave now. ▸ yeah. lol. the tweels are very, very needlessly violent. perhaps not the most Dangerous in the grand scale, but almost definitely some of the most unpleasant. for their victims, at any rate—though they do occasionally (or not so occasionally) nearly give you a heart attack. they’d never seriously harm you though… probably. or actually kill anyone. right…? floyd tends to be the most immediately dangerous. he’s quick to turn to violence (and to get a little too into it) when you’re involved, even more than usual. someone’s bothering you? someone’s getting a bit too close to you in his opinion? you just want him to? you’re not paying enough attention to him and he knows this’ll get your focus back on him, where it should be? :) he’s not too hard to pacify, at least when it’s you offering to let him rest on your lap or offering to spend the whole day with him. jade is usually clocked as less dangerous than floyd, but. well. you know that line he says when he ruminates on how he’d react if betrayed? yeah. unlike floyd, who’s very open about his misdeeds, you’re not actually sure what jade does behind your back. you don’t want to know. the way some people in your life pale and flee at the sight of you, the way you don’t see some of them again at all, and the way jade smiles when this happens tells you all you need to know. what would happen if you betrayed him? fufu, you’d never do that so there’s no need to worry about it. ▸ didn't he attempt to blow up the school once… 💀 yeah, as cute as ortho is he's not exactly built with too many stop guards. the good news is he's easy to dissuade! the bad news is he's also very quick to escalate to really ridiculous levels. you're his older sibling, it's only natural he'd want to protect you! are you sure you don't need him to blow them up? chances are the threat alone worked well enough to deter anyone from messing with you again. you might want to have a conversation with idia about limiting some of ortho's abilities though because his enthusiasm… is a little very concerning… he does get a little jealous occasionally, but it's much easier to insert himself in the conversation and steal your attention that way. isn't your little brother cute? won't you focus some more on him? please?

▸ malleus is… malleus. violence isn’t his first resort, largely because it just… doesn’t need to be. he’s one of the five most powerful mages in the entire world. that title alone is enough to scare off anyone who’d mean to hurt you or is getting too close to you, so he rarely has to intervene in the first place. he also doesn’t mind you having other friends (though he does get lonely in your absence… make sure to make it up to him afterwards), so he really only steps in when you’re in danger. he’s not particularly worried about getting caught by you, because he’s so out of touch that it doesn’t occur to him that you may not appreciate him turning anyone who hurt you into ashes. if anything, he enjoys showing off how capable of keeping you safe he is. he’s defending you, who he cares about most in the world; why would that upset you? if you try to spin it as being worried about him getting into trouble for killing someone, he’ll be very pleased you’re worried about him instead. the only thing that would crack his calm attitude is any sort of reminder that he will long, long outlive you… but it’s best not to dwell on that. fret not, he won’t ever let you go.

[marchsfreakshow]

Poems Of A Killer [James Patrick March]

Angst / suggestive at the end

You were always interested in how ghosts work. Your blog led you to The Hotel Cortez.

Oops I got inspired by @fear-is-truth 's James cai bot where you're trapped in his room bcs the conversations I had w that bot were delicious sorry.

Blogger!Reader

Words - 5.3k (holy shit guys-)

I went through hell and back for this fic I rlly hope it's worth it. I'm proud of it in the end. ♡

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"So, ghosts roam these halls, correct?"

Liz was taken aback by your question. They weren't the first words she expected from your lips, but they were welcomed like an order to her bar.

"Why, yes, they do. You are, in fact, talking to a ghost itself."

A gasp and a smile graced your face just as the sentences were spoken. A real, proper ghost! How exhilarating. You immediately started to blurt out questions, scribbling Liz's answers down like they were your lifeline.

You spoke together for what felt like hours. 3 pages of full notes about ghosts, the hotel and the tasty history of such a place as this. One firm handshake and key exchange later, you were up in you room.

Scribbling down potential essay ideas for... well, for yourself. Most people would probably think you were crazy if you uploaded the essay to your blog. Then again, it wasn't a terrible idea. Most of your followers were believers in ghosts. They loved the paranormal and the un-natural things in life. In fact, an anonymous telling you about The Cortez was the reason for your trip.

'Hey! Your blog is probably the best paranormal blog out there! I know you're LA-based, so how about the Hotel Cortez? It's known to be haunted as fuck and plenty of the ghosts are apparentally staff members. Definitely go look if you're not busy! -🩷'

Obviously, you knew about The Cortez. Everyone in LA did. It was famous, but you never had an intent to go there. You read over the anon over and over until you figured you should.

1 car, 2 notebooks, 3 ballpoint pens, at least 4 books and a ton of music in your car's aux. You drove from one half of LA to the other, thinking about just how much this hotel might be with the likes of Lana Del Rey and Hozier playing from your car's speakers. Secretly, you hoped the ghosts of The Cortez would like you and would easily take to you. Just play it cool. Nice and kind.

Most ghosts easily spoke to you if you asked a question. Mainly, you asked about the spirits. Who ghosted, how, when, and why. There were plenty of stories to go around. Two influencers, frankly, you had never ever heard of. Two Swedes who always walked around in their underwear with a Mr.Woo at their feet. They were pretty weird, but you took their story anyway. You took a few more stories. Their births, their deaths and how they ended up dying here.

"You want to know about me, huh? My life... my... annoying death and how I ended up ghosting this fucking rotten place?"

"Yes. Everything. It will be worth it, I promise. Let's start with your name. What's your name?"

"...Sally." Sally started talking hesitantly about her life. The drugs she invested in, the sex she had to get them. Iris. How Iris pushed her off a roof in the nineties because of Donovan.

"Does Donovan ghost here? I could write a tragic tale of parents and child with him and Iris' stories combined." You chuckled, attemping to find some humour in Sally's words.

"No, he decided to fully fuck off when he died."

"oh... Okay." Still, you wrote it down. "Are there uh, any ghosts you wouldn't recommend I talk to?" You asked mutteringly, still writing down ideas and notes from what Sally told you. She took a long, harrowing drag from that cigarette of hers. Every time she did, you were convinced she was thinking heavily about the fact she was stuck here for eternity.

"uh, there's...someone. Won't show you him until he thinks you deserve it."

"Oh?"

She gave a little 'mhm' and a nod, taking another long, thoughtful drag. "You might've heard of him."

It clicked in your head and you smiled down at the words on your page. Scribbled like a school child's words. The founder of such a place. The, artist of a building like this. Every brick and decoration. "Mr. March." You breathed out quietly, gripping hard onto the pen in your fingers. You were convinced he was the ghost to ghost all ghosts. Whatever the hell that meant. "Oh, oh that would be a conversation for the ages.."

"Well I doubt you'll get anywhere...he doesn't show himself lightly." She bit back, quite defensive immediately.

The conversation about James led on for a few hours. One topic of his life at a time. Your notebook was almost full already. There was so many things you could explore with his story of his life. His childhood...how he started killing... God!

You read through your notes in the evening, laying on the frankly, uncomfortable and creaky bed. You weren't even moving and the springs broke and bounced under your body. How on earth were you meant to sleep on this bed tonight? It made a groan leave you as you eventually decided to open your laptop, writing your notes up into a document to work on in the morning.

As you slept however, without any notice from you, someone stood, reading over your open laptop. How did you find out his backstory? Who told you his childhood? Who decided to give you information about his kills and his relationship with the lady in the penthouse suite? "Mysterious thing aren't you?" He murmured, leaning down to look at your notebook.

The day ran away with you. You spent almost the whole day in Liz's bar typing away at your laptop. Liz kept your hunger and thirst up. Happily providing you with snacks and soda pop as long as you promised good promotion and more publicity. Well, your blog had 5k followers. Atleast 1k were active with your posts. Someone had to take the bait and visit the hotel. "Sooo, how's the writing going? Anyone find interest in the hotel yet?" Liz asked

"Huh? No, not yet. I'm still working on a first draft for your story."

"My story?"

"Yes!" You exclaimed, looking up at Liz with a proud grin. "I think this could really get queer and trans people in this hotel for Pride."

She almost chuckled, lighting a cigarette of her own. The idea of people who were queer or trans in any sense of the words, coming to this hotel because they knew they'd be safe, it warmed her heart. "How many stories do you have?"

"um, let's see... Sally's. Iris and Donovan's. A lady named Elizabeth March. You. Hazel Evers'..." You continued your list with the ghosts you had met so far.

"Quite the chatterer aren't you? Well, I'm glad everyone is comfortable enough to open themselves up to you. Usually they aren't so welcoming to strangers, wanting their stories.."

You shrugged slightly, confident about the fact that the ghosts opened up to you so easily. It made you want to be cocky, but you were keeping it up this way instead. "I spoke for hours to Sally. She told me basically everything. Oh I loved talking to her, truly. The way she knows everything about every ghost here...it's wonderful. This notebook..." You held up one of the notebooks you brought with you quickly. "Was empty when I got here! Empty! Now it's basically 70% full of stories. It will keep everyone on the blog fulfilled...for months!"

"Very nice, very nice. Another Dr.Pepper?"

"Yes! Please."

And yet you continued to write. Sometimes you'd squirm in place. Like something was burning the clothes on your back. It was mildly uncomfortable and odd, however, it was a feeling you'd gotten used to quickly throughout the night and the day. Maybe some ghosts didn't want to show themselves to you, refused to acknowledge the living. It seemed to be common and that was fine with you; another thing to add to the collection of stories about the undead souls here.

"Keep an eye on my laptop please Liz, I just remembered something." Liz agreed as you quickly got up and headed for your room. Maybe you left a pen, or you needed some charging block for your laptop.

"I find their energy, quite exhilarating, don't you?"

Liz shrugged a little. "If anything they're giving this place a little pep. I think publicity will do this place some good."

He nodded simply. "How long are they staying?"

"1 and a half weeks if memory serves me right."

"Hm." He hummed and then walked off, suddenly lost in some thoughts.

You went by him and you didn't even notice. Coming back with a charging block and the cable. Quickly, you plugged it in and immediately got back to work. Not speaking another word to anyone else in the bar. Liz's story was finished quickly, and you moved onto Sally's with unbridled haste. You were practically dead to the world, lost in the screen and the ghost's lives when they were alive.

It was probably your 5th day here when he decided to show himself to you. It was the evening. Your eyes were sore, tired and in need of break. Perhaps a full 8 hours sleep?

"Maybe, a break is needed?"

Your head spun around, and you made eye contact with him. "Oh. Um, maybe." Were the only words that left your mouth. Speaking without thinking. In your head, you weren't sure if you were making him up or if he was really there. "I'm almost done with a few stories though, and I just need to finish one up."

"Tell me, what are your stories about? I find myself intrigued by...your.." He paused, attempting to remember what you called that device that was on the table by your side. The thoughtful look on his face, mixed with your confusion dragged the silence on for a minute or two.

"um, laptop?" You said quietly after a moment, holding it up with a confused smile.

He nodded. "Of course. A, lap...top."

It almost made you chuckle. He must've been kidding...right? Then again, most ghosts here were either incredibly modern or were brand new to things like phones and laptops.

Oh you were so sweet looking... Bright eyed and bushy tailed is the phrase you would probably use. Either way, you agreed. In the back of your head you had this nagging to get atleast a little bit of sleep. Even just 4 hours would do. It made you sigh and nod, rubbing your sore eyes gently to make them feel less fuzzy. "I think..a break is due, actually." You muttered, closing the lid to your laptop and moving yourself away from the table.

He almost smiled. "That would be wise." Encouraging you to take a break and rest.

As you settled yourself into the uncomfortable bed, the springs digging into your side and legs, you glanced up at the man. "You look familiar. I do genuinely have a feeling I know you.." you murmured as your eyelids started to grow heavier. Taking a deep breath, you let your eye lids close, a start in attempting to get some sleep. Not like it would work well with the bed being as uncomfortable as it was.

The man kneeled down by your bedside, staring his dead eyes into your face as you attempted asleep. "I believe I am just the man you are looking for in this modern quest of yours." He said quietly. You hummed quickly as a response, not really listening to him. "...You are radiant when resting your eyes my dear."

James watched you sleep. Essentially.

He found himself intrigued by your reasoning for staying at the Cortez, and wanted to know more about you, yet never wanted to disturb your writing. Seeing your fingers work so nimbly against the keyboard and your eyes light up when you had finished one part was truly a beautiful spectacle. He had to have more. Have you as comfortable as possible in the hotel. Quickly, you were knocked out.

He brought you to his room, and everything you had brought with you. Courtesy of Ms.Evers of course. "Quite, pretty." He muttered, watching your unconscious body lie on his bed. Of course he would find you the most attractive when you've been knocked out... Ms.Evers gave a half hearted agreement. You were, a regular human to her.

Being a 'journalist' , as your dedicated followers called you, usually meant you were more observant. You noticed the stocked mini bar. The jumbled mess of your items on the bed next to you. What looked like a living room. And god, your head killed! It felt like someone was in your brain, trying to knock a wall down to escape or something. Fuck, it felt awful. Thank fuck the curtains were drawn though. "God...fuck me.."

"Ah, no need for such vulgar language. Here, some whiskey and medicine." He handed you a small glass of whiskey and two pills of paracetamol. Eugh..you didn't even drink Kopparberg, let alone something like whiskey. Your distaste for the alcohol was obvious to him, and it only made a slight laugh escape his lips. "I understand your distaste if you are not a drinker, however, this will only help you further."

Doubt that! Heavily...

Even though you turned your nose up to the whiskey, it was better than swallowing the pills dry. Begrudgingly, you picked up the small glass and took the pills out of his hand. "That headache of yours shall disappear in an instant, there is no doubt about that." He offered you a smile, and you only gave him a dull, neutral look before you placed the pills in your mouth. Deep breath. And you quickly shot down the whiskey, swallowing in one gulp.

Once you had gotten over the absolutely dreadful taste and burn in your throat, you blinked and looked back up. James Patrick March. Good...god.

He must've noticed the slight awe in your look. "I have, gotten used to that look in my time, yet it never fails to make me smile." James decided to take a walk around his room. "I hear you write for the modern world. You talk of the souls and the undead. Like the ones you have written for here. Even a story of me."

The silence lingered before he glanced back at you. Oh, right. You should talk. Respond with something. "Uh, yes I do. It takes me around the US. I went to a place called, uh, The Murder House. Lots of ghosts roam there and keep it clean. I um, it reminds me of this hotel." Nodding, hoping you weren't rambling about nothing.

You were so perfect. "Hm. Quaint. Tell me, what stories of mine have you collected?" James sat down by the table, already holding a glass of alcohol, swishing it around as he spoke. Swallowing some nerves, you adjusted on the bed and started talking his whole life story back to him. At one point, you got up and started reading back from your notebook. Every detail that you had been told about from the others here.

James was almost shocked by the fact you knew almost every detail. Almost. Some of them exaggerated parts to make him seem more intimidating to you. It only made him want you more. To keep you forever. Obviously, he wasn't going to tell you he wanted to keep you as his. No no... That would only scare you off. This was going to be difficult though. You were a, a blogger. Whatever that word was meant to mean. You needed to be outside more. With the stories you had collected, James suspected you could keep this blog of yours active for maybe a few months. Little white lies to add to the stories of the souls here, just to keep everyone interested. It had to work. Had to.

"...You truly are an interesting thing aren't you?"

You stopped your sentence at James' rehtoric question, and looked at him for a moment. A little blush appeared on your face, and a tiny smile almost ghosted your lips. One of your favourite rare compliments was being called interesting. "Oh, um...thank you Mr.March."

He almost smiled again, the faintest vision of lips turned up in the corners. "I find your formalities, almost unbearable. James shall be fine my dear."

"James..." Repeated softly. As if you were tasting a name. For the serial killer in front of you, 'James' tasted like old nicotine, alcohol and strong iron.

"I suggest it is a name you should get used to, I have a feeling you shall be here," he paused as he got up and walked a few steps towards you. Leaning down and looking in your eyes. "Until the last star in the sky has burnt out and crumbled this world to dust."

Time had lost its meaning. Sure, you could look at the date on your laptop and find comfort in that, but god, it felt like it didn't matter anymore.

Sighing, you rubbed your temples again before holding your face in your hands. "My dear, take a break from this bright screen. I have brought you something." James' voice cut off your scrambling thoughts as he reached over your shoulder and brought the lid to your laptop down. He had gotten used to it, even if he still didn't fully understand what it was. Looking up at James for a moment, you shifted in your seat to face him properly.

His rare gifts occasionally made you smile, but overall you were too focused on your writings to properly care. "Oh, um, what is it?" You asked as James placed the black box on your laptop. Great. Eventually, after some staring, you picked up the box. The box was velvet and had a white silk bow keeping it together. Well, at least he knew your taste. You pocketed the silk, definitely keeping it, just because. Gently peeling the lid off the box, there was a book. Seemingly homemade, shittily put together. It simply read 'Poems' at the cover.

James simply kept a sly smile on his face, watching your fingers work at opening the box up. Picking the small book up. He was desperate to see a new smile on your face, seeing how much you liked the effort he went through for this present. All he wanted was for you to like him. Not that you didn't have manners and didn't say thank you, obviously. Of course you did, that was just nice but never failed to make him happy and satisfied for the next few days.

Skimming through the book, you read a few words on each poem. They were, actually, decent. Pretty handwriting and sweet words on the pages. "Okay, James, this one is just Juliet's speech but with my name instead of Romeo's."

"Yes...A tragedy for the ages isn't it? I suppose the difference here is that I'm already dead. Haunting the hotel for eons to come."

"...You say that like you're planning to kill me James."

The silence was long. Uncomfortably extended. His hands were hesitating around the back of your neck. Like Patrick Bateman when he was hesitating to kill Luis Carruthers in the bathroom. It wasn't lost on you. "James?" The soft ask from your voice snapped the killer out of his fantasies, his hands retracting as you looked up and behind at him. Oh, that look in your eyes. Gentle fear, mixed with confusion and wonder. Such a look that internally melted James.

So, he had to lie. Keep you unassuming and unaware. "No, my hummingbird. I dare not harm you. The comparison of Romeo and Juliet is simply a sweet thing to keep you inspired. Keep your energies up as you write the stories you're here for."

"Ah, right. Well thank you James, I appreciate it." Nodding as you placed the book in the box, and shifting it away from the laptop. You needed to continue with a few stories, and if you got them done now. As much as you could get done while being stressed out and down with writer's block. Could journalists get writer's block? You certainly thought and believed so. It felt like it was killing you. You wished it killed you at this point.

That sleep was long, hazy and disturbed. There felt like there was a weight on your chest. Something pinning you down, keeping you as pushed down as possible. Well you certainly weren't going anywhere. You needed the rest. Even if it wasn't as amazing as the other nights. It was something, and not nothing.

Your night seemed longer than it already had been. The clock read 10am. Jesus, who let you sleep that long?! James kept waking you at 6 or 7am to try and keep up a firm routine for you. It was his way of caring for you, everyone told you. Making sure you had a routine and it was kept to whenever possible. He couldn't tolerate any slacking. "It will be good for you my dear, get your mind working at full speed again."

Staring at the bright laptop screen, the black words on a white page burned into your retinas, occasional blinking didn't help anything. It's not like you were particularly ignoring James, no... Your brain just felt, vacant I suppose you could say. It felt so empty and crushed, like every pure word of genius had been squeezed out of you. Milked for all it was worth and now only dust remained. James noticed this, of course, but didn't want to suggest anything. You just looked, so perfect and pretty. Dull eyes lit up by the white screen, your brain working on overdrive to finish a section of Donovan's story. If it were possible, he would have had someone photograph that moment, so he could look at it and find pleasure in your uninhabited mind.

The clock ticked. You watched hours go by. What was wrong with you? Usually you weren't like this. You weren't so... Still and figure like. Maybe you needed fresh air. Yeah, that might do you some good.

Shutting the lid to your laptop, you stretched to make sure you weren't going to seize up or anything before walking out of the room. Yawning as you headed down the halls, stood in the elevator for what felt like forever, and eventually headed for the door. "Ah, they do know they're-"

"They shall find out in their own time. Perhaps not letting them know of their death will make them inspired."

She stared at James with indifference. A hint of annoyance. The pair watched you take a deep breath and walk out of the door. Yet, you met yourself with confusion as you appeared back in the room you were staying in. "What on.." muttered before you took the same route. There was absolutely no way you were dead. No, this was definitely part of a dream. A really... Long... Deep... Dream. The repetitive walls only became tedious to look at with every heavy footstep.

You had heard of one such incident before. An attempt to leave proving fruitless until the right person came along. But, then again, Michael Langdon was dead. He could not save you like he did Queenie. Fuck. You wished he could though. However, you continued the loop. Time had lost it's meaning again.

"FUCK!" Erupted from your room and James only chuckled. He had felt a certain amount of satisfaction roll through his body at your screams of curses. Oh you were so cute. The killer figured you should have some alone time before he came to visit you. How much time had passed since you woke up again? It felt like days when realistically it was a couple of hours.

It was only a nightmare to you because you had bills to pay and a day job to go to. You couldn't call up your boss and go "hey, yah I'm a ghost now in The Hotel Cortez so I can't come into work. Sorry!" That was an insane idea and would only get you fired. Alright. C'mon, you're smart. You can figure it out.

You went over in your head for hours upon hours. Figuring out someway to tell others you had died without actually telling them and scaring them. But, you got it eventually.

Leaving you room hesitantly, you walked the long, exact corridors of The Cortez until you found Liz up in her bar again. "Ah, our resident journalist, how are you?" She asked with a small smile, wiping the bar top down gently.

A moment. Though, you found your voice and asked a question. "Is anyone here, who isn't a guest, actually, y'know alive?"

"Hm. Maybe. On what basis?"

"I'm dead."

"Yep."

You swallowed. You were.. dead. As the fucking doornails. Liz's agreement was just your verbal confirmation from someone else. You resisted the urge to scream fuck again. "Shit...okay. I just, I need someone to tell my boss that I'm dead. I can't really fucking tell him myself! That'd be crazy!" Liz stared at you for a moment. Then nodded, letting out a breath of cigarette smoke she had somehow acquired. Whatever pretend breath you were holding, you let out. Smiling as you rested your head on your crossed arms. "Oh thank you Liz... Thank you so much."

Quickly, you placed down your phone and opened it up to the contacts. Scrolling until you found your boss' number, then pressing call, handing it to Liz. The conversation was brief but informative. "Yes? Are you the boss?" She mentioned who she was calling for then continued. "I am the unfortunate one who must tell you that your beloved employee has shuffled off this world. This mortal coil could not, handle their pure love and devotion." She made you sound like a sweet sugar doll, which also caused your face to heat up until it felt like it was burning. That couldn't've been further from the truth in your head. But at least you tried.

After a few unintelligible mumbles from the phone, Liz hung up and handed the phone back to you. "Done. He sounded like he was devastated." Definitely an exaggeration.

"oh yeah totally. I was definitely his favourite employee..." You were not. The young new employees who were fresh faced 17 years olds were his favourites. There was an obvious connection there which you didn't want to think much about. It was gross and caused those younger employees to always get promotions before you. Fuck that. If that was what was happening now? You were glad you were dead. But, there was another question in your head. "Where...where is my body?"

"Slid down a chute."

"Fucking hell."

"Quite."

You let out long, dragging, throaty sigh. What on earth was there to say? No one tells you what it's like to be dead.

...

Tell a lie they do. Plenty of souls did. 'Thats' what you were there for. Talking to the souls of the Hotel Cortez, bringing their stories to light so people knew what the hotel was capable of. What horrors and extremities the hotel held inside. Like James. James was a devil.

Pure black soul inside and out. Nothing redeemable. Nothing good. You were sure the only reason he was nice to you was because of some fucked up version of lust he felt for you. Lust that had to be contained for years upon years. That serial killer was a man of tastes divine. Tastes that were fucked up and inevitable.

"Lost in thought.." Liz hummed, bringing you out of your thoughts. Glancing up at her, your eyebrows furrowed. "Thinking about Mr. March.. He has kept you here for eternity." Her words spoke wisely, and it made you feel insane.

"His poems are insane, Liz! T-they're nothing but old tales with the names changed to fit me and him! It's insanity!"

"It's love."

"It's fucked up is what it is." You ended the conversation there, standing up and walking away. Back up to your room, where there was a piece of fucked up, old looking paper ontop of your laptop. There was another poem on it. Seemingly original.

My dear,

You are exquisite.

My work of art.

A piece untouchable.

The stories you tell,

exhilarating.

The public will flock.

See how much time and love there is,

in a tall tale such as my own.

I do not say much,

In the terms of affection.

If you stay in here, however,

Next to me,

There may be a word i shall tell.

Bare me your soul, hummingbird.

There will be nothing to keep us apart.

- James Patrick March

"...what the fuck..?" You muttered a question, reading the poem over and over again. It was, well it was perfect. It was somewhat sweet, and telling of his personality.

The nickname, hummingbird, definitely struck something in you. It was so, nice. That was the only word you could think of. Nice. Somewhat flattering coming from the man who you supposed was your murderer. "My dear, you seem, somewhat flustered by the poem I have left for you."

Looking up, you stared right into James' eyes. The silence before you answered felt tense. Harsh and scared as your eyes bore into his. They were so dark. Black boba pearls that barely shined. There was nothing to say back to him. You scoured your mind for a response as you gripped the paper. Maybe too hard, as you felt your fingers dig into your palm. The paper crumbling up.

James walked towards you, eyes trained on the worry and the slightest shake of your fingers. "I haven't written anything since I was a young man I admit," He started, finally breaking eye contact. His hand met yours, placing down the crumbled and broken paper on the table. "But I hope it has satisfied since you feel so, aloof to the poems I had given you before."

"James..." You looked up at him from the paper, lips slightly parted. "I'm dead."

"That you are." Those three words of agreement felt somewhat unnecessary. "But one who died so eloquently. I almost, feel envious you died so beautifully my darling." His hand trailed up your arm, standing behind you as he spoke. Feeling you, making sure you knew how close he was to you. Gods, you felt so perfect to him. He was so glad he killed you.

"that... Weight on my chest.." You started, taking in deep breaths as one hand roamed you.

"That weight was me my hummingbird." He nodded, head dipping down to your neck. Despite being dead too, he took a breath that felt like an inhale. What he was addicted to. Needed to be addicted to. You couldn't leave, but even when you were alive, he didn't want you to leave. The undead addiction he craved to feel once again. It was a craving he could not satiate.

"You satiate me," James muttered into your skin. Your lips stayed shut, and eyes closed. While you barely had a response, it didn't matter to James. All you needed was to understand why. Understand the scribbled nonsense on paper in front of you. Letting James take. But you weren't giving. Not really. You were just, standing there trying to make sense.

"James..." You breathed out, head falling back against his shoulder. He smiled and let one hand fall to rest on your waist. They were so delicate compared to the rest of what James was about. It felt so, wrong. However, they felt in the right place. They felt so right, being placed so softly on your chest and your waist. What on earth could you do about this?

Letting the touches sink into your body. The coldness freezing your body. It made you shiver. It would've felt better if the both of you were alive. Warmth pressing against warmth... But no, you were cold. He was colder. Cold as dry ice. After a while it felt right.

Your positioning was that of Christine and Erik's. His hands holding you close to his chest, your hand over his, the other one hovering over his shoulder.

You were Christine. Naive, needy and talented.

He was Erik. A teacher. Smart and full of wit.

A phantom.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Taglist: @lacucarachapisser / @vi0l3tluvsu / @strawb3rrystar / @bohnerrific69 / @xrag-dollx / @r4fe-cam3ron / @pajaaa2005 / @saintlucretia / @taintandviolent / @phantommoondoll / @american-horror-whore

[elrielffs]

There are 3 things that make me know for a fact that Elriel is endgame:

Truth-Teller:

Azriel didn't even let Mor touch Truth-Teller for all he was supposedly in love with her for 500 years.

Azriel figuring out what was wrong with Elain when Lucien couldn't after Madja says point blank a mate would know :

(this is actual foreshadowing for the antis out there)

Feyre:

And Hybern rescue:

Antis can try to twist and misconstrue these scenes all they want but it is in your face.

Bonus:

There is just no coming back from these scenes. Not only are they explicitly romantic in nature that antis want to copy them for their ship but even if their ship DOES do it, Elriel did it first and it has now lost it's impact and importance and becomes lackluster for the other ships. That is like if Rhysand already got on his knees for another woman then did it for Feyre when it was a big deal for him to do that.

An author would NEVER describe their MMC from his POV to be so down bad for another woman just to move on to another and especially cause someone told him to for political reasons.

Antis cay try to disregard these scenes cause they don't like what it means but for the readership at whole, for the actual narrative to make sense, SJM cannot backtrack or ignore these scenes that she has written (not that she wants to but you know how antis say she changed her mind, sure she can do that but it's to undermine her own writing.) it’s one reason antis also like to say that only ACOSF matters now (even tho Azriel’s story still revolves around Elain.)

The next book is written. The announcement is upon us. All articles, interviews, book canon text point to one couple. The time for others to be introduced as a solid possibility has passed. There needed to be actual scenes and not word associations that don't mean anything without substance to back it up.