#I love all the things that make people tilt their heads

[ninikrumbs]

things he'd never admit

Sukuna x femreader. Just pure fluff. modern au. Soft Sukuna. Sukuna is bad at emotions. first time writing for sukuna so this could be bad.

The smell of rain reaches your nose first making you look up at the dark and gloomy clouds in slight panic, "Damn, its gonna rain soon."

Quickly, you run to the bus station, but apparently not quick enough as you made it halfway through before the soft pitter patter of rain slowly turns louder.

Lady luck was not on your side today. After long tiring day at University, you're now about to turn into a wet rat. A cute wet rat, but still a rat.

It was probably a dumb thing to do, especially when the pouring rain was now blurring your vision, yet you still continued running down the slippery pathway anyways, trying to salvage your books and papers inside your gradually dampening bag.

A low, annoyed grumble made you halt in your step, "Are you trying to kill yourself, brat?"

You could recongnize that rude voice anywhere. You look up to the large form now blocking your way, and quickly noticing the dark umbrella covering your head, "Kuna?"

He scoffs and let out an irritated sound, "Who else?"

Suprise and something warm flits through your body, your eyebrows raising, "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy all day today?"

Your mind recalls his blatant reminder that he couldn't come see you today because he had some school shit to do. Hence why you didn't call him to pick you up which he usally does. Because despite his semi aggressive personality, he does take his studies seriously so you didn't want to disturb him.

And Sukuna was busy, unbearably so. Not that he would admit it, he loved spending time with you thats why he chose to spend the entire day to do his papers and essays due this week was so there would be no interruptions during your time together - which was another thing he would never admit to you- and he could just focus on you.*simp

But when he saw the weather forecast and knowing your bad habit of always forgetting to bring an umbrella, he was already out the door with his keys in hand.

He was right to trust his gut cause here you are almost soaking wet, like a stray kitten left out in the street. Not mention your clothes that were now almost translucent.

It makes him grit his teeth, no one else should see you this way other than him. He holds out the umbrella to you. "Hold this."

You take it without question and hold it above the both of you as Sukuna removes his coat and puts it over your wet clothes. The annoyed look still plastered on his face as he keeps grumbling under his breath of how much of a spoiled brat you are.

It makes you grin cheekily. Other people might take Sukuna's surly personality the wrong way but you knew better. You spoke fluent in Sukuna Itadori.

And you knew, regardless of his complaints and rumblings, he cared. He cared so much even if he wouldn't admit to you or to himself. But you felt it every second you're together.

"Watcha smilin about, woman?" He grouses, annoyed, his eyes locking in on your smile, the type of smile that makes his pathetic heart stumble.

You shake your head still grinning innocently, "Nothing."

He glares at you, not believeing you for a second, but he can roast you about that later. Right now he just want to get you home to make sure you don't come down with a cold or a fever.

With a shake of his head, he takes the umbrella from you and starts walking you to his car. He tries to be subtle about it, but you didn't miss the way the umbrella tilted more on your side getting his right arm soaked from the rain.

"Kuna, your-"

"Leave it."

"Are you sure?"

"Im fine, brat."

You bit back a grin, his words were so jarring yet with no real bite behind them. It could be his jacket that envelops your entire frame and his comforting scent emitting from it, but you feel so warm and cherished. Only Sukuna can be so grumpy yet somehow affectionate.

The car finally comes to view and he ushers you into the passenger seat, placing a practiced hand on the car door frame as you sat down.

You bumped your head into it once but the grimaced you wore is forever seared into Sukunas brain. He realized then and there that he didn't want you in any form of pain, not that you'd ever know when he called you a clumsy idiot as you rubbed your sore head.

He drove extra slow that day.

Plus he stared at that door frame for a hot minute like it was his biggest enemy when he got home.

The moment you got inside his apartment, he immediately demands you get into the shower. His voice holding no room argument.

You comply without complaints of course. After a warm shower, you change into his baggy shirts and make your way to the kitchen when you hear the kettle boiling, and surely enough he has your favorite tea ready in the favorite mug that you bought when you first started dating.

"Oi, your hair's still wet." He notes grimly by the kitchen counter, crossing his arms in displeasure. Though you don't miss the way his eyes flits across your figure in his shirt apprciatively.

You wave him off, grabbing the mug off the counter and breathing in the soothing scent of the tea, a content smile on your lips, "It'll dry off on its own, Kuna."

He tsks at your carelessness and disappears to the bedroom, he comes back a few moments later with a towel and hair dryer. "Sit on the damn sofa"

You gaze at him with exasperated affection. If only people could see through his rough exterior and notice how much this man dotes on you.

Finding no reason to argue, you plop down on the sofa with your legs crossed and he finds his place behind you, fluffy towel in hand.

Gazing down in the mug in your hands, you smile secretly to yourself. Your boyfriend may not be the most expressive when it comes to declarations of love, but you didn't need words. His actions spoke more than any kind of heart trembling confession or lovesick poem.

And you felt everything he would never admit outloud in the way his rough, calloused hands are so uncharacteristically gentle as he weaves through your hair with the towel. Handling you like you were some precious china.

You clasps your hands over his, making him stop. You turn your head and look up at his questioning gaze. Smiling softly, your kiss one of his palms. "Thank you for always taking care of me, Kuna."

His eyes widen slightly before his mask of nonchalance returns, huffing,"Dunno what yer talkin about."

"You know exactly what Im talking about." You grin.

He rolls his eyes feigning irritation in order to hide the small smile tugging in the corner of his lips, "Don't get too used to it."

But he did want you to get used to it. Needed you to need him. This way maybe you'll ignore how shitty he is at emotions or how he can't do all the lovey-dovey stuff that makes you swoon in those crappy rom-coms you're always watching. He'll never hold a boombox over his head outside your window.

"Too late." You say, snuggling your cheek into his palm.

Sukuna falters a bit.

He's a confident man, women would beg for just a single glance from him despite his abrasive nature, it was all part of what Gojo called his charm -and once again he'd never admit it to you- but your words eases the insecurities he didn't realize were there. He grumbles under his breath somewhere along the lines of you better not taking that back.

You laugh at his mumbling, the sound like music to his ears, "Oh, Kuna."

[steven-g-rogers]

He laughed.  “Not only can we go in circles.  We do go in circles,” he teased.  “We get on a complimentary I love you session and it goes for so long.  But I think it’s just because we both love and admire each other so much, and that’s not a bad thing.”  He paused and tilted his head in thought for a moment. “That and we had a lot of years where we couldn’t tell each other anything at all. So we have to make up for lost time.”

He nodded.  “Completely different when it’s for work,” he said.  “I never got to see anything or experience the culture.  Then if you factor in the kind of work we do, often what we do see is the worst the country has to offer. It’s the dark underside.  It’s people in fear.  It’s war.  Now we get to really experience them at their best.”

Steve leaned over the table, cradling Peggy’s jaw and kissing her softly. “I agree.  No more loss.  Just a life well lived together.  I know that’s what we’re going to have.” 

He sat back and finished up the last of his food. “That was really good,” he said. “I’m glad we got to eat out here.  It’s been so nice.”

@agentpeggycarterrogers

Peggy blushed. “You’re sweet,” she said. “We could do this in circles - compliment each other, say how much we love each other, say how lucky we are. It’s nice to hear it, always. You certainly know how to make me melt and swoon.”

She nodded. “I always felt like I was well-traveled, well-read, well-educated, and I guess I am for this time, but you’ve seen things I can only imagine, and you’ve been places that are inaccessible now. But traveling for work and traveling to explore are different things, aren’t they? Now we can go back and really experience these countries.”

Peggy reached for his hand. “I don’t want our lives to be defined by losing people anymore. We’ve both lost people - but we have each other and you’re the most important person in my life now. As long as we have each other, we can face anything. I want our lives to be defined by our happiness and adventures, by what we share.”

@steven-g-rogers

[thelov3lybookworm]

The Red Carpet

Summary: Flashes and interviews, the dreaded part of his job. But at least his wife is with him.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1651 (including comments and captions)

Warnings: none me thinks 😋

A/n: first time doing smau kinda nervousss 🤪 BUT IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS AHAHAH

azzie is a movie star, yn is a fashion designer and his college sweetheart (ps. my heart my soul @berryzxx gave me the idea to make yn a fashion designer so ILYYY 🥹🥹🥹)

(id love to expand in this universe tbh, so if youve got ideas, lemme know 😋 cass and rhys coming soon, maybe ill do some for vanserra bros too 🥹)

also im so proud of myself for coming up with all these usernames like who is dis 😳

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

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Y/nAzriel_06

liked by Y/n'sHusband3000, rhysand-thegreat, nestassworld-obvi, nesta_archeron26, feyre-archer-on and 450,026 others

Y/nAzriel_06 stole his matcha when he wasn't looking... think I'll stick to my good ole coffee 🫤😓 ps. so excited for the award ceremony today!! how many of you are we seeing?? ❣️✨

view all comments

Y/n'sHusband3000 look at that gorgeous woman 😍(I told you you wouldn't like the matcha😏i also knew you stole it 🤭)

Y/nAzriel_06 stawp it 🥹(no kisses for you today)

Y/n'sHusband3000 NO PLEASE IM SORRY

ticktockbomb these two are adorable omg

thebiggestpookiee IM GOINGGG OMG IM SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU AND AZRIEL AND THE REST OF THE STARLIGHT CASTTT 🥳

imjustagirl1995 girl why do you have two diff robes on 😭

Y/nAzriel_06 lmaooooo i put on the pink robe before shower, then Az decided it was important we match after shower 🤭

mor-theoneinred oh mY GOSH YOUR NAILSSSS 😍

Y/nAzriel_06 hehe Az picked them out for me 🤭

getsunghoonedloser i wish i was in that city i would kill to come 😞

Y/nAzriel_06 theres always a next time love!! you never know when we meet hehe <3

getsunghoonedloser omg ily 🥹

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

One of the things Azriel thought could be better was the screams and flashes that bombarded him the moment he stepped onto the red carpet.

It was almost like he was some sort of zombie on his way to bite people, except that some people were such fans that they'd probably want him to.

Regardless, he smiled slightly and waved, going to greet his costars of a recent movie they acted in together. Cassian already seemed to be getting ready to walk closer to his old time friend. The movie had been very fun to work on, because not only did it have all his bestfriends working on it, the fans were also very excited for it to come out.

The one thing Azriel didn't like was the fact that Y/n was not in the film. She wasn't an actor, after all. But she did come to the set on most days to cheer him and his friends on. But what he didn’t like about her being in the film was that she wasn't going to be a part of the group photos taken on the red carpet.

She had stayed back when they arrived at the venue, telling Azriel to go on and get the group photos done.

She was a celebrity in herself, most of Azriel’s fans loving her more than they sometimes loved him. And he loved that fact. She would come once the group photos were done to take pictures with Az, apparently.

He couldn’t wait.

"My man!" Cassian hollered, dragging Azriel by the collar to where Rhysand and his wife, Feyre, who was also a part of the team stood, smiling at the cameras. Azriel took a moment to dust himself off and fix his suit before taking his place next to Cassian and Mor, facing the row of photographers and fans.

"Here!"

"Cassian, this way!"

"She’s gorgeous!"

"Oh my god, look at her!"

It was the last scream that made Azriel follow the sound of the voice, and when he found the fan who had called out, he followed her gaze.

To his wife.

She stood at the archway, leaning lightly against the frame, mobile in hand. She clutched the little device with both hands, holding it up to her chest and tilting her head to take the picture she was so focused on.

Immediately, Azriel’s cheeks began burning.

He turned back to the cameras that flashed at him, his smile getting harder to contain. Loud cheers followed his actions, making his cheeks redder.

It took only a few minutes before the shoots were done and Azriel lingered back, beckoning his wife closer. She smiled wide, walking over to him, the beautiful dark blue gown that complimented her skin so well swirling around her legs.

"Hello, love. Missed you." He murmured, his eyes fixed on her as she stopped by his side, wrapping her arms around his. Even the sudden influx of flashes wasn’t enough to get him distracted from the beauty that was in front of him.

She giggled, leaning into him and looking away from the cameras, deep into his eyes.

"We were away for only five minutes."

He shrugged, watching as she smiled once again for the photographers. "Missed you still."

She laughed, reaching up and grabbing his jaw to turn his face towards the photographers, who continued to yell instructions at them. It infuriated Az sometimes, but it was a part of the job.

Only made better by his wife by his side, of course.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

thebiggestpookiee

liked by maximusthehorse, berrysareyummies, Y/nAzriel_06, and 50,004 others

thebiggestpookiee it was so fun seeing everyone at the event tonight! i saw so many celebrities and honestly my inner child is healed lol 🤭 (ps. peep Azriel and Y/n in the second picture, they were so adorable today 🥹)

Y/nAzriel_06 omg thank youuu 🥹 i love these pictures 😍

thebiggestpookie oh gosh thank YOU ❣️

maximusthehorse girl u lucky 😭

getsunghoonedloser oof they look gorgeous 🥹

myurlisnunya omg i want what they have 😭

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"I heard you designed his suit and your own dress?! Is that true??" The interviewer asked, looking only more excited than Y/n, which was a feat in itself.

Y/n nodded happily, and Azriel smiled, pride making his chest puff up.

"I was lying in bed one night, and then he told me we were invited, and I was like. I should make something."

"Oh my god. I also saw your post from a few hours ago. You said you made the designs in hours?"

Y/n giggled. "I was so excited for him to wear something I designed, so I sat down and locked in. And then the design was just somehow ready and sent for production the exact same day, and it felt so surreal."

The lady in the black dress squealed along with Y/n, and Azriel had to hold back a laugh at the way the two seemed to have become best friends in just moments. "I can’t believe it. That is so amazing! I’ve always been a fan of your designs."

"Thank you, thank you." Y/n smiled, flushing.

Finally, Azriel decided to chime in. "Me too. I’ve been a fan."

Y/n rolled her eyes fondly, gazing up at Azriel in the way that always had him feeling butterflies.

"I can tell! You look so good in that suit!" The interviewer laughed, nodding along.

Azriel wrapped an arm around Y/n, tugging her close as he grinned. "Not better than my designer, I’d say."

Y/n blushed harder, slapping Az on the chest, but he knew she loved it.

She always did.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

After a long tiring day, one of Y/n’s favourite way to relax was to curl up on the soft bed with either her phone and scroll or with a book.

And Azriel, of course.

He had been in the bathroom, washing up when she jumped onto the bed, crawling under the covers gremlin style and opened up her favoured app she designated for only mindless scrolling for when she waited for her entertainment -Azriel- to come so she could bother him.

She was doing what she did in these times when she suddenly paused on a video.

It was taken from an angle where both her and Azriel had been visible while he was with his friends taking pictures, and Y/n smiled at the way he began blushing when he noticed her.

It was one of the advantages of social media, the way memories are preserved.

The video switched to the person who had posted the video, screaming into a pillow before whispering into the camera, her eyes filled with what could only be admiration.

"Look at them you guys." She mumbled. "Literally look. Y/n looks so proud of him, and he looks so in love. If that is not what my future partner looks at me like, I don’t want him."

Y/n opened the comment section, her cheeks hurting from being stretched.

User1 i havent watched much of them but girl do i agree with you on this. I want what they have

User2 i only heard of them through a pick me who was trying to put yn down, but honestly, she seems like the sweetest person ever

User3 you should go check out her insta user2, she literally does her best to reply to every person that comments and shes always so positive. No wonder Azriel is so in love.

Y/n giggled, looking up when she heard the sound of the door opening. Azriel smiled at her, waddling closer to peck her forehead, in just a pair of light gray sweatpants. Y/n let him, but then the next moment, she shoved her phone into his face, wanting him to see the video too.

He only smiled, then snuggled in next to her and took her phone away. She didn’t mind, of course. She only had her sights set on the chest that looked so inviting as her pillow for the night.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n'sHusband3000

liked by y/nazriel_06, mor-theoneinred, rhysand-thegreat, nesta-archeron-26 and 560,237 others

Y/n'sHusband3000 so blessed to witness her shine ✨❣️💙

y/nazriel_06 my love you need to post your own pics too 😭

Y/n'sHusband3000 why do that when i can fawn over you??

myurlisnunya i love the way he uses the same heart emoji she does and then his own 😭

getsunghoonedloser RIGHT?? I THOUGHT I WAS BEING DELULU

rhysand-thegreat im so done with you being lovey dovey ew 🤢

nestasworld-obvi just say youre jealous feyre gives me more love than you instead of acting like a 4 year old 🙄

Y/n'sHusband3000 exactly 🙄

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[ohmy-gojo]

jjk as cats with you as their caretaker au ෆ

you were just a simple employee at a cat adoption center. for most people it would be a dream, getting paid to take care of kitties? hell yeah. it was yours for a long time, but now..

"satoru, suguru. how many times have i told you both to not go outside?"

the white and black cats stared at you sheepishly, caught red handed trying to leave the shop. you had closed the shop, which meant no going out now. they both were the troublesome duo, always causing chaos. satoru tried to appease you by rubbing his head in your leg which made you crouch down and pat his head. this action however irked suguru, causing him to meow angrily at the white cat and jump to your arms

"oh hush, stop being so possessive suguru. satoru deserves love too, everyone deserves love here," you paused then took them both in your lap "well everyone except sukuna, thats why hes in the cage."

at your words the unusually colored red cat hissed angrily, giving you a stink eye. can cats even make such expressions? you honestly dont know. maybe the lack of sleep is getting to you. satoru and suguru simultaneously looked at him haughtily, flexing to not be stuck in the cage, rather in your arms

"everyone should be like kento here, hes such a good cat. isnt that right ken?"

you left the black and white cats to check kento— whom you affectionately call ken, sitting in his cat couch unbothered. you in fact have nicknames for every cats here but only call them that when theyre not being naughty. which means you call kento 'ken' all the time, much to the annoyance (and jealousy) of other cats

satoru and suguru's faces fell at the sight of you leaving them, giving a whining mewl. sukuna smirked at their frowny faces. 'heh.. karma' he thought in cat language

you took kento in your arms and gave him rubs. "youre such a good boy ken, arent you? yes you are, yes you are!— the goodest boy,"

kento preened at your words and huddled closer to your arms. hes always on his best behavior to get this treatment. he looked down on satoru and suguru, giving them a look of superiority

you were now walking around with kento in your arms, you already closed the shop so you just gotta leave for home. suddenly you remembered about the other cat, choso. whom you haven't seen in quite some moments

"shit!" you hastily put kento down much to his dismay "have any of you seen choso??""

sometimes you thought you were going crazy. here you were asking them questions as if they could answer. maybe you should quit and start therapy

but thats a problem for later! now you had a cat to find. in a hurry you accidentally stepped on something.. soft. which was chosos tail, he hissed in pain from his position under the chair where he was sleeping

at this satoru, suguru, sukuna laughed. even kento let out a quiet snort. in cat language of course. they already knew where choso was, opting to stay quiet instead.

"im so so sorry cho!!" you held the brown cat face to face with you, "forgive me?"

the brown cat pouted at you before finally accepting your apology with a quiet meow. you smiled happily and peppered his face with kisses. choso was now a happy cat. the others? well not so

sukuna, sick of you giving all these stray cats (deregatory) affection meowed loudly to get your attention. he then did something he absolutely hated but since he was desperate... he gave you kitty eyes (cat version of puppy eyes) you stared at him for some time before sighing heavily

"yeah yeah, im gonna get you out now. maybe don't scare away customers anymore?" you rolled you eyes but took out the keys to unlock his cage, he knew this method would work. "but who am i telling this, you still gonna do that no?"

sukuna just stared at you innocently, tilting his head. you scoffed but took him in your arms at the same time. you looked down at the four other felines who were at your feet, eager to be picked up. they were truly spoiled. weird thing is, they only ever acted this clingy and affectionate towards you, not other people or even their owner, mr. gege (they hated him for some reason, especially satoru). you stared at their hopeful blinking eyes and sighed again

"okay okay, you all can come to stay at my home tonight."

they all cheered. you once again thought you were mad to think cats can cheer. but oh well.

[iid-smile]

content — michael kaiser x coach!gn!reader, enemies to lovers, probably ooc, some references to his past (choking), i got a wee bit carried away and then got lazy on the lover part, ok rereading i fear this might be really ooc idk i dont read the manga

enemy!kaiser who knows at first glance that he just doesn't like you. he could say that about a lot of people, but you're a different case.

enemy!kaiser who hasn't quite got the smarts, nor do you have the physical abilities, other than being a coach, to become actual rivals over something. but you know what's better? arguing over nothing.

enemy!kaiser that would do anything to piss you off and get his way. yes, he was there for the lengthy meeting for a new and reliable strategy for the next match, but he's going to completely disregard it simply because he's michael kaiser. who's gonna stop him?

enemy!kaiser who loves to get in your face, using his stature to his advantage. if you try to avoid eye contact, he only gets closer, opening his eyes much wider than needed and tilting his head so that he's the only thing that you see.

enemy!kaiser who makes you do everything for him just to spite you. from now on, it's your job to dry his hair — and don't do it too hard, otherwise you'll just mess it up. he's awfully picky about what you do and if you don't do it right, expect to hear an absolute mouthful.

kaiser who starts to talk to you normally. it's scary. every time you try to rile him up, he does respond with his usual array of insults, but they don't seem to be as sincere.

kaiser who starts to listen to you more. whenever you talk, he stares, and it's unsettling having him be so neutral. try to shy away, and as usual, he moves closer, placing his hands on his knees with his eyes boring into yours. is it just you, or are your noses touching?

kaiser who accidentally let you see how truly vulnerable he could become. it was all a big mistake, a misunderstanding, so he wished. he wanted to yell at you, to curse you out, but you didn't say a word, simply turning and closing the door and giving him the privacy that he needs.

kaiser who lets you touch his tattoos for the first time. he felt oddly comfortable that night, being surrounded only by your presence. he wasn't happy, nor sad, yet his heart was more audible than usual. he was an empty vessel, thinking and thinking about what his emotions doing to him.

kaiser who suddenly switches back to his old self. it's a defense mechanism of sorts — if he could at least act like he hates you, then he doesn't have to come to terms with his feelings.

but yet, he knows he could trust you. you've kept all of his secrets, protected him from harm, whether that be physically or verbally. never have you used his weaknesses to your advantage, or stooped too low to the point that it reminds him of his past. he wasn't looking for love, he didn't believe in love. but maybe, just maybe...

kaiser who doesn't know what he's doing. when was the last time he's ever experienced such a thing? what can he do? how can he show you how he feels? what if you reject him? no, of course not... but you've spent all of this time hating each other... how low could the changes possibly be?

in the end, you were feeling the exact same way.

lover!kaiser doesn't want to make things public immediately. it's partially his pride, but he's scared. he's scared of this entirely new part of him that was once broken before.

lover!kaiser seems to be more of a tease. his formerly rude comments come off as playful, with a smirk on his lips that is less forced, less hateful.

lover!kaiser is intimidated by the world of romance. gifts? touch? he doesn't think he could bear with it. you remained patient, teaching him slowly at his pace, and speaking your own language of love to each other.

lover!kaiser who has heart eyes that are only noticeable to you. you don't get how nobody else sees it, but perhaps they're mistaking it for his intense gaze.

lover!kaiser who finds it satisfying when you touch his neck. you only graze your fingers tentatively over his throat, yet his hand wraps around yours, urging you to make it rougher, to grip it tighter. despite his request, you don't, and he's almost relieved from that. it's not enough to completely erase the habit, but it's nice to have a better memory attached to it.

[cruel-seduction]

Peter Teases You About Your Favorite Superhero Crush (Not Him)

It all started when you casually mentioned your love for a certain fictional superhero while you and Peter were sprawled out on your couch, legs tangled together in your usual cozy way. You were scrolling through a Pinterest board, showing him random outfits, memes, and—without thinking—a fanart of your favorite superhero, Nightblade, the shadowy, brooding vigilante from that one movie series you’d been obsessed with lately.

“Wait, who’s that?” Peter asked, craning his neck to get a better look at your phone.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “Uh... no one important,” you mumbled, trying to scroll past it.

“Oh, no one important?” Peter snatched your phone faster than you could react, his reflexes annoyingly good as always. He tilted the screen, inspecting the art. “Nightblade?” he read aloud, a teasing grin already forming.

“Give it back, Peter!” you said, lunging for the phone, but he held it out of your reach, his other hand pressing into your shoulder to hold you back effortlessly.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, laughing as he twisted his body to keep the phone away from you. “Is this... your superhero crush? Oh my god, you’re blushing!”

Your cheeks burned hotter as you smacked his chest. “Shut up! I am not blushing!”

“Oh, you so are,” Peter teased, lowering your phone just enough to waggle it in your face. “Look at you! You’re like a tomato. This is adorable.”

“Peter!” you whined, burying your face in your hands to hide your embarrassment.

Peter leaned closer, still grinning like the smug menace he was. “Okay, okay, hold on. I need to understand this. Nightblade? Really? The guy who skulks around on rooftops and growls at people? That’s your type?”

You groaned, refusing to look at him. “He’s cool, okay? And... and mysterious. And—ugh, you wouldn’t get it!”

“Oh, I get it,” Peter said, his voice dripping with mock understanding. “You’re into the whole dark, brooding, ‘I work alone’ vibe. Got it. But, babe, have you met me? I literally do the rooftop thing all the time. Should I start growling at bad guys now? Would that make me hotter?”

“Shut up, Peter,” you said, reaching out to shove his chest lightly. “It’s not like that.”

But he wasn’t letting up. If anything, your reaction just fueled him further.

“‘It’s not like that,’” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, scooting closer to you on the couch.

You peeked at him through your fingers, your face still burning. “Stop it!”

But Peter was on a roll now. He threw your phone onto the couch and stood up, dramatically deepening his voice as he struck a ridiculous pose. “I am Nightblade,” he intoned, his attempt at a gravelly tone making him sound more like he had a sore throat. “Justice is my shadow. The night is my ally.”

You snorted despite yourself, grabbing a throw pillow and chucking it at him. “You’re so dumb!”

Peter caught the pillow mid-air, grinning as he tossed it aside. “Dumb? Dumb? Babe, you’re the one who has a crush on a fictional guy who probably hasn’t smiled since birth. Meanwhile, you’ve got me—a real superhero who’s funny, charming, and, might I add, great with parents.”

“Oh my god, Peter,” you said, covering your face again as your laugh bubbled out.

He plopped back down on the couch beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. “I’m not saying I’m jealous,” he said, though the teasing lilt in his voice suggested otherwise. “But I mean... come on. I’ve got to be at least, like, 10% cooler than this guy, right?”

You peeked up at him, still flustered but smiling now. “I dunno,” you said, your voice playful. “Nightblade does have a pretty sweet cape.”

Peter gasped, hand flying to his chest like you’d just stabbed him. “A cape? Oh, come on! Capes are a tripping hazard. I could make one if I wanted, but I don’t because I have common sense.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “And he’s got these cool shadow powers.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer with a mock-insulted expression. “Shadow powers? Pfft. Lame. I’ve got webs, babe. Webs. I can swing through the city, catch bad guys, and tie up robbers in little cocoons. I can tie you up and you know you enjoy it, What can he do? Stand in the dark and look angsty?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of your head. “Peter, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” He leaned in even closer, his nose almost touching yours now. “Ridiculous is you choosing him over me! What does he have that I don’t?”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin. “Well, there’s the expression—”

“Oh, here we go with the expression again.”

“And the muscles.”

Peter flopped back against the couch, groaning loudly. “You’re killing me, Y/N. Absolutely killing me.”

You giggled, poking his side. “And don’t forget the way he says, ‘I can do this all day.’ So iconic.”

That made Peter shoot upright again, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Okay, first of all, I also say cool stuff when I’m fighting bad guys.”

“Like what?” you challenged, crossing your arms.

Peter paused, clearly scrambling for a good answer. “Uh… ‘Hey, buddy, quit stealing stuff!’”

You burst out laughing, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “Oh, yeah. Super inspiring, Peter. Definitely gives Steve a run for his money.”

You tried to stifle your laughter, but it spilled out anyway. “You’re impossible,” you said, lightly smacking his chest.

Peter grabbed your hand before you could pull it away, bringing it up to his lips for a quick kiss. “And yet, you love me,” he said smugly.

“Don’t push it,” you warned, though your smile betrayed you.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head. “And to be honest. It’s not like that! I just think he’s… you know… nice-looking.”

“Nice-looking?” Peter repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Nice-looking.” He pointed at himself. “Have you seen me? I mean, I don’t want to brag or anything, but…” He flexed his arm in the most over-the-top way, clearly showing off.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was impossible to hide. “Oh, please. You’re so full of yourself.”

He leaned closer, that teasing smirk never faltering. “I’m just saying, if you wanted a guy with abs, you could’ve just told me”

And then you flexed your non existent biceps “Yours is not better than mine, Pete”

Peter chuckled, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “True true. Seriously, though. You can crush on Nightblade all you want, but just remember: he’s not the one sitting next to you, eating leftover pizza and looking ridiculously cute in sweatpants.”

You rolled your eyes, your cheeks still warm as you leaned into him. “Fine, you win,” you said softly.

Peter’s grin widened, and he pulled you even closer, resting his chin on your head. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head as his teasing finally softened. Sure, Nightblade was cool, but Peter Parker? He is your superhero. 

[angelofthenight01]

A dog accident

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

genre: flufy  ||     warnings: none

Summary: On an ordinary afternoon, your girlfriend's crazy friend turns you into a furry four-legged being

You're dating Wanda Maximoff, which in itself is already pretty fantastical. You, a self-proclaimed dork who still gets excited about new socks, are going out with a genuine superhero. It's a love story for the ages, or at least one that you’re constantly trying not to overthink.

And then there’s Agatha Harkness. The woman is an enigma wrapped in a slightly dusty velvet cloak. She's Wanda's sort-of-mentor, sort-of-friend, and a full-time chaos generator. You’ve learned to accept her as a permanent fixture in your life, mostly because Wanda adores her, and partially because you suspect refusing would end with you inexplicably speaking only in limericks.

It's a quiet Saturday. You're sprawled on the couch, a book about the migratory patterns of garden snails open in your lap, but your mind is decidedly elsewhere. You’re replaying a particularly smooth move Wanda pulled in the kitchen last night while making pancakes. It was the way she flicked her wrist, sending the pancake soaring and landing perfectly on the plate. You’ve been practicing it for hours but the closest you've gotten has been flicking butter across the room. You’re shaken out of your reverie by Agatha bursting through the front door with the subtlety of a rhinoceros in a tutu.

“Wanda darling! I need… a thing!” she declares, holding up a glass jar filled with something that looks suspiciously like glowing pond scum. “For… research!”

Wanda, looking as serene and beautiful as ever, emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Agatha, what is that?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Oh, just a few… essential ingredients for a spell. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” Agatha’s smile is a little too wide, a little too manic. You’ve learned that this is her default I’m about to do something incredibly stupid expression.

You, meanwhile, have retreated further into the cushions, trying to become one with the couch. You’re pretty sure you’re invisible, like a well-camouflaged houseplant.

“And you,” Agatha says, pointing a crooked finger directly at you. “You’ll be the perfect… subject!”

Your heart does a little tap dance in your chest. “Subject?” you squeak, your voice cracking like a teenage boy going through puberty.

Wanda looks at you with a mixture of concern and fondness. “Agatha, put the pond scum down. You know you can’t just experiment on random people.” She glares at Agatha with a look that could melt steel.

“Nonsense!” Agatha waves her hand dismissively, which is a mistake because the jar of pond scum slips from her grasp, the green liquid splashing all over you. "Whoops!"

Before you can even register what happened, a peculiar tingling sensation washes over you. Your vision blurs, your limbs feel weirdly heavy, and you feel an uncontrollable urge to scratch behind your ear with your foot.

You blink, and the world suddenly looks a whole lot larger. The couch now looms like a terrifying mountain range, and Wanda, the woman you love, is towering over you looking like an adorable giant. You let out a curious bark.

“Oh. My.” Wanda says slowly, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Agatha stares at you with a mixture of horror and fascination. “Well, that is… unexpected.”

You wag your tail tentatively. Yep, you definitely had a tail. You try to speak. What comes out is a series of yips and woofs. Your hands, or rather, paws, twitch as you try to grasp at the situation. You’re a dog. A fluffy, medium-sized, caramel colored something with comically large ears and a rapidly wagging tail.

“Agatha!” Wanda hisses, her voice low and dangerous. “You turned my girlfriend into a dog!”

“Well, yes, but it was an accident!” Agatha protests, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I was aiming for a newt, I swear!”

You tilt your head, your tongue lolling out of your mouth. You want to ask if they have any treats, but you can only manage a happy bark.

“Okay, okay, no need to get dramatic,” Agatha says, pacing back and forth. “We just need to figure out how to change you back. I think I might have reversed that spell. Or maybe not, it depends on if I used a pinch of salamander eyes or bat wings. They're kinda similar.”

Wanda lets out a frustrated groan. "Agatha, you absolute menace."

The next few hours are an absolute blur. Wanda and Agatha are now trying to solve the mystery of your transformation. You, being a dog, are mostly just enjoying the abundance of belly rubs and the fact that you can now lick your own foot. You tried to help by bringing them your favorite squeaky toy, but the two witches seem to be too preoccupied with their spell books to appreciate your contribution.

You watch as Wanda and Agatha argue, occasionally throwing out phrases like “counter-curse,” “elemental transference,” and “what did you mean by using the left hind leg of a frog?” You realize this is probably more chaotic than your average Saturday.

At one point, Agatha tries a spell that makes your fur turn bright pink for a few minutes, this was quickly reversed by Wanda as she glared at Agatha. You were actually rather fond of the pink fur, and you make a mental note to ask Wanda to do that again.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of chanting and potion-mixing, Agatha exclaims, “I think… I think I’ve got it! This final ingredient should do the trick!” She holds up a small, suspiciously sparkly vial.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes full of anxious hope. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You bark excitedly, your tail wagging so hard your whole body wiggles. Anything to be human again.

Agatha pours the contents of the vial over your head. This time, the tingling sensation is different, accompanied by a whooshing sound and a strong smell of lavender. You blink, and you're back in your human form. You’re no longer covered in fur, and your paws are, once again, hands. Your heart nearly jumps out your chest in relief.

“Am I… me again?” you ask, your voice still a little shaky.

Wanda rushes forward, pulling you into a tight hug, her face buried in your hair. “You’re back,” she whispers, her voice thick with relief. “You’re really back.”

Agatha, meanwhile, is beaming at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “See? I told you I’d fix it. Just another Saturday for the amazing Agatha Harkness!”

You look at her, then back at Wanda, a smile spreading across your face. This is your life now. A chaotic, wonderful, and utterly bizarre life, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[mymoshangthoughts]

oki oki oki

so i love, you love, and we love the whole "everyone sees moshang except for moshang" thing, bc it's funny to have everyone else be like "ohwow those two idiots dont realize they're married huh"

but like

might i suggest the alternative?

idk i was rereading svsss and like, since the whole thing is basically shen yuan's pov and he's a relatively level headed dude, i can't help but think about the way that he looks at moshang

like, he really doesn't seem to have any idea that moshang could be a thing. from his pov, shang qinghua/airplane is a sniveling backstabbing asshole who gets what deserves and deserves quite a bit more thwacks and mobei jun is just kinda... there. like even after knowing shang qinghua for YEARS and being fairly close people who can confide in one another, shen yuan seems pretty fucking shocked when airplane jumps off a cliff to save mobei jun. from his pov, it's almost random. like "huh wow that is the weirdest thing i've seen all week, and airplane is NORMALLY very weird so like... huh???"

now by the time the airplane extras occur, shen yuan DOES seem to have some idea of moshang with his whole "youre just waiting for him to apologize and keep beating you" thing, but again, might i point you to the YEARS it took him to get to that point. having to see shang qinghua literally pull a death defying stunt to save mobei jun's life before he sees even a glimmer of moshang

like, when they were working on the mushroom together, they clearly spent a long time with each other. they had to travel together, they had to come up with plans together, they also likely just had social visits bc being the only other transmigrator in a world that is so fucking weird would definitely drive up a certain level of honesty and companionship

now again, shen yuan is lowkey the sort of guy who's like "i dont see gay themes even when they're reeeeaaalllyy obvious", especially with relation to himself (dont get me started on how one of my least fav mxtx themes, after the blatant crummy treatment of female characters, is the whole "im not GAY, gay is WEIRD, im gay FOR YOU, thats DIFFERENT" which winds up reflecting as internalized homophobia their protags), so it's possible that moshang is obvious to everyone who isnt shen yuan.

BUT I CONTEND THE OPPOSITE

as ive expressed before, i love "mobei jun is just fucking weird, demon courting isnt like that" headcanons, so what if no one knows what the fuck is happening between moshang. like they're just this super weird mismatched combination of people that everyone just kinda tilts their head at like "...huh, wouldnt expect to see those two together but whateves" and then proceed to not fucking care to know the answer

shang qinghua seems to have kept a purposeful emotional distance from... everyone (likely due to the whole "haha everyone here is gonna fucking DIE someday" thing) and as said above, even after years of a relationship with shen yuan, he doesn't seem to have talked about mobei jun to him much (who is, by airplane's own admission, the most important person to him in this world considering he's the only person that had airplane going "i mean... maybe i dont push the go home button?"). so no one really seems to give a fuck who he's hanging out with bc he's not exactly out here making friends

and mobei jun, i contend, is a weirdo outcast who does not know how to socialize bc his uncle is a dick LOL. also his father. and also his childhood. and other demons tend to look at him and go "fucking weird man... i think he keeps a human pet?? kinda weird but w/e, the emperor is into necrophilia so /shrug/"

so like, maybe if anyone paid attention to them, they might notice the signs of moshang, but because most people kinda dismiss them, no one knows

I CONTEND THAT THE ONLY ONE WHO DOES KNOW IS LUO BINGHE THO

mostly because i find it FUCKING HILARIOUS but also bc i like to think luo binghe's whole "youre not used to his lil human pet yet? he brings it everywhere smh get over yourself" thing was luo binghe's way of being a wingman lmfao. he wont actually help or offer advice or do anything USEFUL, but he'll allow them to hang out when he has every ability to separate them LOL and i think that's funny

altho i still like the idea of luo binghe ALSO not knowing that moshang is a thing pfff. but having him know also amuses me.

ANYWAY ONTO THE ACTUAL APPLICATION INTO MOSHANG IDEAS

now the use in modern au's goes without saying. the good ol' "wait, THOSE TWO ARE A THING?!" coming from everyone who knows them. as an example, some form of workplace romance and even tho moshang can always be seen together in the office, because they dont seem to get along and no one cares, everyone is just like "shrug, they have a project together idc". like they're more likely to think that shang qinghua and shen yuan are dating bc at least those two have secretive meetings and have been caught, more than once, talking about sex. then one day shang qinghua shows up to work with the biggest rock on his finger pfff and mobei jun has a matching wedding band or someshit and everyone is shocked. or even better, some of the romantic pre-relationship stuff starts happening at the office but it's all stuff that's kinda easily misunderstood. and since no one would guess THOSE TWO together romantically, they just come up with any other plausible explanation. "why did mobei jun send shang qinghua flowers? idk, maybe his mom died. should we send him flowers too?" its not even a 'it couldnt be THAT', it's a straight up 'THAT never even crossed their minds for a second' until it gets really fucking ridiculous lololol then mobei jun and shang qinghua are applying for the same days off and mu qingfeng in HR is like "oki what for" and has to NOT do a spit-take when the two of them are like "our wedding" or someshit lolol

LOOK I JUST THINK IT'S VERY FUNNY

now as for the post-canon application, i still find this IMMENSELY amusing. for the sake of my amusement, im also choosing to interpret shen yuan's "you just want an apology" statement to have been given without imagining that the two of them might like-like each other. he's just being dismissive because airplane is fucking weird. like "look, idk why you are into role-playing as a humble servant and idk if i wanna know, actually, i definitely dont wanna know. you two clearly dont even like each other but you're in some weird co-dependent mess of a... friendship? friendship seems like a strong word. point being, get out of my house"

no one has the slightest clue about moshang's feelings for one another (except maybe binghe lolol) and they are REALLY not ready for when suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, shang qinghua is sending in his two weeks notice for an ding peak bc "oh im the northern consort now lol" and everyone is trying to just understand WHEN and HOW

like people straight up being like "is this a prank? i feel like im being pranked?" and others like "oh they might have gotten like... fake married? is this an insurance scam? hmm"

and basically for the first time ever people are really trying to understand and think about moshang bc they are SO FUCKING CONFUSED. there are betting pools over what the REAL REASON behind this CLEARLY fake marriage is. luo binghe has put his bet on "they're actually in love and fr married" and people SCOFF. he's the only one betting that and wow, the demon emperor is clearly blinded by his own weird relationship and cant see that NORMALLY this sort of relationship would NEVER happen

(actually this could apply for modern au too pff whateves, im jsut having fun here)

inquiring minds just being like "shang qinghua, blink twice if you're being threatened, we can get you out of there". demons out here like "we should prrobabblyy find the cure for whatever potent love-poison that creepy lil human slipped into mobei jun's drink, or maybe a mind-control plant?"

stuck on whether i want moshang to be utterly oblivious to everyone elses skepticism bc they're just on their happy lil honeymoon stage or if i want them to find the confusion Deeply amusing.

moshang get-together being dramatic but not bc either of them are oblivious, just bc there are communication issues pff. theres no "i love you" "but you CANT love me" drama, instead its "i love you" "oh shit SWEET, lemme hop on your dick". i like the idea of moshang only struggling to understand one another when the pair of them are holding the other at arms length (mobei jun being a tsundere and airplane out here like "getting attached and taking things srsly IS THE ENEMY") but whenever theres like, a clear statement of intent, they're quick to let go of misunderstandings and just get on with it. now while i favor this interpretation of their characters, i find it PARTICULARLY funny in au's like this! bc it also means that the pair of them learned to understand all of their weird behavior as well. so they're still fucking weird around each other, so people really dont believe this is real. mobei jun is still just as likely to yeet shang qinghua into a death cave and shang qinghua is just as likely to literally hug mobei jun's thighs while pleading for mercy. it doesnt LOOK like a loving relationship to anyone with eyes LOL (not to say that they dont grow and treat each other better, but just having a deeper understanding of one another means they dont change behavior 100%)

which actually isnt why i find it funny lol, i just enjoy the subversion of expections. rather than moshang being oblivious to the point of mind-numbing hair pulling stupidity, it's the rest of the world x'D and then it's just moshang casually proving that nah, they're for real, and yep, they're super in love, to an increasingly confused audience

this could work really well in a celebrity au now that i think about it LOL bc celebs so frequently have fake relationships and hidden relationships and all that sort of weird shit and people love to speculate about it online. so just everyone being like "calling it right fucking now, this relationship is a publicity stunt" and literally NO ONE believes they're for real, even years into it LOL. im actually usually a person who really doesnt care for celebrity au's but tbh this prompt fits so well for that, so im sold

but it goes beyond just fans speculating online. even fellow coworkers are like "huh, weird choice of publicity stunt" and dont believe for one fucking second that moshang is actually happening. oki yeah im sold

shang qinghua - famous author turned screenwriter (does some directing and he's actually pretty good at it, has a cult following, but mainly he sticks to writing. he doesnt need that kind of stress in his life LOL). he's finally reached a sort of financial stability with his work, but he hasnt broken the habit of doing whatever the audience wants because "I DONT WANNA FUCKING STARVE BRO", and he's generally disheartened when his works that he puts his sincere vision into have a tendency to be SIGNIFICANTLY less popular

mobei jun - actor, specially known for stunts and action movies. doesnt actually have any history of scandals, other than it's known that he's kinda hard to work with. just kinda cold and distant. THERE ARE some lowkey scandals with his family tho. he's definitely a nepo baby of the industry and his uncle and father dont have clean reputations. mobei jun normally keeps a pretty big distance away from them so he's kinda like, in the splash zone but not dragged in.

shen yuan - long time fan of shang qinghua's work, even back when the hack of an author was just posting web novels, his favorite insult is to call him a sell-out bc very often his deepest criticisms of shang qinghua's works are clearly choices made for money. as an example, a perfectly directed film that he wrote and nearly brought shen yuan to tears and quickly became his favorite movie EXCEPT theres fucking product placement in NEARLY EVERY FUCKING SCENE and sometimes it makes the movie fucking UNWATCHABLE. anyway, shen yuan runs the fansite for shang qinghua and is a LITTLE BIT OBSESSED with his works, but still has a love/hate relationship with the whole thing

luo binghe - pop idol who sometimes does acting work. he's known as an all-around talent. his acting is just as good as his singing, if not better, and basically everything he tries to do is wildly successful and genuinely fucking good. he's insanely popular to a scary degree (shen yuan is only familiar with his work bc he's acted in some of qinghua's movies and sometimes qinghua uses his music, shen yuan has an overall favorable impression of the celebrity but no obsession. mostly a "oh nice, that actor is really good, that and THAT HACK AUTHOR directing is sure to make this a must-watch movie" type of fanning)

liu qingge - stunt man and martial artist. he's not crazy famous, he's more like "if you're really into martial arts, you've definitely heard of him" or "if you're really into stunt work, you've heard of him" famous. but if you don't have those special interests, you have no idea. he MIGHT look faintly familiar to you, but you're unlikely to put a name to the face

shen jiu - actor, many scandals, SO MANY SCANDALS. he's very successful, infamously difficult to work with, has so many accusations hurled at him (and a majority of them are true) that when you hear "omg did you hear abt shen jiu" the answer is "ohyeah, the red-light district thing?" and the reply to that is "nonono, that was LAT MONTH, im talking abt the abuse allegations that came out yesterday!" and so on and so forth. shen jiu is a hot fucking mess and the industry has NOT helped him one bit. he has the money and power to get away with being his worst self and he Does Not Fucking Care (he cares so fucking much, he's literally burning from the inside out)

yue qingyuan - childhood friends with shen jiu, kind of accidentally being an enabler of shen jiu's spiral to hell. he's a producer and he's very successful and he keeps paving the way for shen jiu to continue getting work and help to bury scandals and basically the dude is trying his best, but he really should be putting his foot down and sending his friend to rehab instead of helping him like this

sha hualing - actress, does her own stunts, very temperamental. difficult to work with in that she's a bit (a lot) of a loose canon. she's hyper capable though and VERY popular. not a ton of scandals other than some violent behavior. she's also very good at dancing, basically anything that involves moving her body, she excels. her and mobei have totally starred in action movies together where theyre basically "hot beefy action hero and sexy badass love interest". they have a casual frenemy relationship

liu mingyan - average fanfiction writer, huge fan of rpf. she is relatively untouched by her brothers fame and intends to keep it that way. that said, she's more than happy to utilize the gossip that her brother sometimes brings home to implement as 'headcanons' into her fanfics >:D she does not tell her brother about this pfff. she also does martial arts and she's very good, but she has no desire to pursue fame. the closest she gets to it is sometimes watching her brother on a set (while secretly paying attention to everyone else for rpf bait LOL). she is not a fan of the whole moshang thing because it separates her otp (mobing for life!) and she's also convinced that its CLEARLY fake

mu qingfang - doctor, just a normal doctor, no fame involved. but his guilty pleasure is that he enjoys looking at celebrity gossip while on break. it's just a very lowkey sort of cathartic drama that he has no stakes in and helps him destress from his very stressful job. he mostly just lurks, but he's been known to write the occasional comment if he feels he has some useful insight to contribute

ning yingying - over-worked office lady. she wanted to be a pop idol when she was younger but it just wasnt in the cards. now she just enjoys getting a little parasocially invested in celebrity gossip, ESPECIALLY around luo binghe bc she's a. a mega fan. b. they were actually classmates in highschool. she's a fierce defender of his online and also one of those people who gets kinda offended by rpf bc "HOW COULD YOU THINK THAT" but also hypocritically will read every single "rpf character x reader" fanfic she can get her hands on

ming fan - luo binghe's hater online. mostly because he also knew him in highschool and hated the guy and now he's ugly jealous of his success. he likes to spread mean rumors about binghe online, just to blow off some steam. but his stupid obsession with slandering his ex-classmate sort of grew into a genuine interest in celebrity gossip and now he's a bit of an internet troll who's a little too invested in this shit. he's not a complete asshole and there are lines he won't cross, buuut he's also one of those assholes who sorta feels like "its online so it doesnt count if im a huge asshole" and just is his worst self online. he constantly gets in fights with ning yingying online (without knowing its her) about luo binghe. shen yuan sometimes gets involved too bc while he's not huge into the binghe fandom (that place scares him) he IS big on fact checking and whenever ming fan says something OBVIOUSLY false, shen yuan can't help but go in for corrections

qi qingqi - actress, successful, very low drama. she's famous and well liked, no major scandals, just a successful woman with a good career.

zhuzhi-lang - works as his uncles assistant. he keeps track of online drama because its part of his job, sometimes his uncle has him spread rumors online too so he has a few alts that are believable fan accounts for various celebrities.

tianlang-jun - one of those people who's basically famous just for being famous. he has done a bit of everything, but it's mostly that he's a household name that makes him famous. he currently works as a producer because he finds it really fucking funny. but it's anyones guess when he'll get bored of this and flit off to do something else that catches his fancy

su xiyan - model and martial artist. she's mostly famous for her TURBULANT relationship with tianlang-jun. she's skilled at both her crafts and has success, but she has no real ambition for fame. also her career is often held back by the shitty people in her life (her ex-mentor being PRIME among them, the grooming old scumbag). she got pregnant with binghe very early in her career and gave him away for adoption for various reasons. she has a good relationship with his adopted mother, but she's chosen to stay out of binghe's life. tianlang-jun doesn't know binghe is his son LOL

meng mo - thinks of himself as a star-maker, he's luo binghe's manager and has a VERY high opinion of his skills bc he's had a few successful clients. he does however tend to give very bad personal life advice

yang yixuan - one of liu qingge's students. he's only passively aware of celebrity gossip, it's really not his thing, but he is a bit of a mobei jun fan. mostly bc mobei jun does his own stunts and yan yixuan can recognize the skill involved and just thinks the guy is really fucking cool (not more cool than liu qingge OBVIOUSLY but still cool). he's very disappointed to hear abt this clearly fake relationship with shang qinghua, he thought that mobei jun was above all that petty celebrity bullshit of fake relationships and tabloid bait

gongyi xiao - aspiring young actor, overall just a nice guy. no scandals, not really famous yet but he has a promising lil fanbase that is slowly growing. however, he does have a bad habit of answering too honestly while being interviewed which can inadvertently have bad consequences LOL (example: "so what do you think of this moshang thing?" "hm, i mean, it really surprised me? seemed out of nowhere haha, i guess good for them??" which quickly spirals into "omg gongyi xiao CLEARLY knows it's fake! he cant lie for shit! THIS IS BASICALLY EVIDENCE")

qin wanyue - binghe fan, terminally parasocial, lives off of rpf fanfiction, literally missed her younger sisters funeral to attend a binghe concert, probably needs professional help like yesterday. when the online conversations of moshang start involving binghe, she gets VERY FUCKING UPSET

little palace mistress - nepo baby pop idol. very obsessed with binghe but also in a love/hate sort of way bc he doesnt do what she WANTS him to do and she craves the obedience. she takes out her impudent rage online. she's a big mobei jun hater bc she saw the mobing conspiracies before moshang happened AND SHE SAW RED. she now wants moshang to crash and burn bc she hates mobei jun with an irrational passion. she is doing her best to sabotage whatever stupid publicity stunt this is

(ships: moshang, bingyuan, liujiu, mingling)

moshang had their own super slowburn romance of actor x director that happened over the course of years and the mutual pining was basically killing them both and they had their own dramatic love confessions and shit, but it all happened behind closed doors so no one knows any of that. all they know is that this relationship Makes No Sense and internet sleuths are very invested with UNCOVERING THE TRUTH

[himluv]

Just a Taste

Chapter 28(?!?!) of Say My Name (Say it Twice) is here! Read it below or over on AO3!

Now that he and Rook are together, Lucanis decides he might just try acting on some of these new feelings he's been struggling with late at night.

There was no place that Rook could go that Lucanis would not follow, but the Necropolis put a stutter in his step every time. Even without Spite, he didn’t think he’d be comfortable in the dank, dusty, cavernous place. It reeked of incense and funeral bouquets, and the backs of his eyeballs itched furiously at the rampant magic that kept the crypts intact. 

It was a place that vaunted death, and while Lucanis was well-versed in the causes, he did not like to dwell on questions of what came after. 

He was not a religious man. He firmly believed you only get one life that could so easily be curtailed, so it was best to live well. The Necropolis suggested there could be more to life and death, and Lucanis had no interest in exploring those possibilities for himself. 

While the Necropolis made him uncomfortable, it made Spite irritable. Even more so than usual. The demon did not play well with other spirits, especially ones as benign and courteous as those in the desiccated halls of the Necropolis. 

So, they were both quiet and discomfited as they followed Rook and Emmrich. Rook seemed, if not entirely at ease in the crypts, at least curious about the magic required to maintain them. She and Emmrich spoke in hushed, reverent tones that Lucanis only heard part of. 

“I didn’t expect it, but Strife and I are getting along quite well,” Emmrich said. 

Spite growled at the mention of the elder Veil Jumper, but if Emmrich heard it, he chose to ignore it. And Spite wasn’t the only one troubled by mention of Strife. 

The Professor might be oblivious to it, but to Lucanis, Rook’s discomfort with the conversation was clear. Her posture was rigid, shoulders back and head high, despite the downward tilt of her chin. 

“But where to go with him…” Emmrich continued. 

Asking Rook for advice about Strife was reasonable, but Emmrich didn’t know about their recent fight. And Lucanis could tell that she would rather not speak about her mentor at the moment. 

“Does he like coffee?” Lucanis asked. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d needed to alleviate Rook’s unease. He winced. “Or... knives?”

There was a beat of silence as Emmrich and Rook both turned to look at him. Emmrich’s brow was furrowed as he considered it, but Rook could barely bite back her grin. 

Mierda, what was he thinking? He knew nothing of Strife and even less of romance. He should not be giving advice to Emmrich of all people. The man was stylish and confident, and doubtless had much more experience than Lucanis. 

“Sorry, Emmrich,” he said. “Rook might be better at this.”

She gave him a chastising look, one he knew meant he’d hear just what she thought of that later. And while she would never convince him that he was good at flirting, he looked forward to her efforts to do so. 

As the mages fell back into discussion of where Emmrich should take his date, Lucanis let them lead the way through the dusty halls, content to watch their backs. Besides, he very much enjoyed the view of Rook’s hips when she jogged ahead of him. A view it was getting harder and harder for him to ignore.

Want. Rook! Spite said.

Lucanis shot him an ugly look. He did not need the demon’s needling now, not with Emmrich close enough to hear. 

Spite’s grin widened. Want to watch. To touch. To TASTE!

“Enough,” he hissed at the demon. 

“Everything all right back there?” Rook asked. She glanced over her shoulder at him, a small smile on her lips. 

“Fine,” he said. 

Rook wants too! Spite glared at him. Would make. Rook. Happy!

Lucanis rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed was his demon encouraging his more… salacious thoughts. They were out of control as it was. Luckily, Spite got distracted with chasing a wisp, and Lucanis was able to follow after Rook (and her lovely, wide hips) in peace. 

A few days later, he and Rook were sitting in the armchairs in the dining hall, enjoying a rare cup of morning coffee. She was going to Arlathan with Davrin and Assan later that afternoon, and she was always jittery before a trip home. Partly out of excitement – she truly loved the forest – but also because she was bound to see Strife. 

So, in an effort to ease her nerves, Lucanis had offered a light breakfast and coffee. Few of their colleagues were fond of mornings, so they had the dining hall to themselves. The meal, coffee, and easy conversation seemed to be working. Rook’s eyes were clear and her smile bright as she sat and chatted with him. They were discussing favorite books, and while their mutual love of reading was exciting, they were learning that they had very little overlap in their reading history. 

She shook her head. “It’s been so long since I had time to a read a book,” she said. 

He nodded. “Bellara has made it her mission to get me caught up on all I’ve missed this past year.” He said it so casually, without any consideration, that for a heartbeat he didn’t understand why Rook’s smile melted into a frown. 

“Oh, Lucanis–”

He raised a hand. “It’s fine, Embria,” he said. It was more than fine, actually. For the first time since his escape, he hadn’t thought of the Ossuary when he alluded to the time he’d lost there. There had been no water thundering in his ears, no bands of ice cinching his chest tight. There’d merely been the facts of the matter: he’d missed a year’s worth of publications. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he added when he noticed the concern in her eyes.

“You didn’t,” she said. She took a deep breath and looked down into her coffee cup, suddenly timid. “I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me about it.”

Something in his chest twinged, and he had to look away. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. The bitterness in his voice surprised him. It’d only been a few short months since Rook had saved him, but he was tired of thinking about and talking around his imprisonment. 

Her hand was warm on his forearm, her thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “But, if you need to,” she said. 

Lucanis gave her a tiny, half-smile. “I know,” he said. “But, you’ve already seen it.”

Her look was skeptical, as if she didn’t fully believe him. Which… was fair. She’d seen his thoughts, his fears and insecurities. She had not seen the actual torment, the memories that replayed in his dreams on the bad nights. If he could help it, she never would.

“Embria,” he said. “You know my thoughts. I’m all right.” He squeezed her hand where it rested on his arm. It still amazed him, how she touched him so easily, and it amazed him even more how much he looked forward to her touch. 

She squeezed his arm, then released him. “Okay.”

The dining hall door opened and Emmrich entered the room. He hummed a little tune and had a definite jaunt to his step. And, most tellingly, his clothes were every so slightly rumpled. It was clear that the mage had only just arrived back at the Lighthouse.

Lucanis smiled. “Emmrich,” he said. “How did it go?” 

The professor grinned. “Very well, thank you!”

Lucanis glanced at Embria fondly. “I knew Rook would give you good advice.”

She snorted at that and rolled her eyes. “I told him to go look at bugs.”

He frowned. “Bugs?”

She shrugged. “There’s a cave where the bugs glow like veilfire.”

He blinked at her. That sounded… beautiful. Possibly gross, but still beautiful.

“Actually,” Emmrich said, his smile sharpening and a hand on one hip. “As it turns out, Strife does indeed collect knives. So, your suggestion was excellent as well, Lucanis.”

“Really?” He stared at the mage and pointedly ignored Rook’s grin in his peripheral vision. “That…” he shook his head. “Has never worked for me.” He sat forward, his own smile widening. “I can get you the name of my blacksmith.”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” Emmrich said. 

Embria downed the last of her coffee and stood. “At least that means Strife should be in a good mood today.”

Emmrich’s mustache lifted with a wry smile. “I daresay he will be.”

Rook made a disgusted noise, her nose crinkling adorably. 

Lucanis looked between them for a moment, sure he was missing something. Why would Strife’s good mood be cause for disgust–

“Mierda,” he said, heat rising to his cheeks as he understood just what the mages were talking around. Good for Emmrich, he supposed, but that was not information Lucanis needed, nor wanted. First Taash and Harding, now Emmrich? And if the lingering looks between Neve and Davrin meant what he thought they might…

Was everyone in the Lighthouse having sex?

Well, everyone but him and Rook. And maybe Bellara, though he’d seen her blush whenever she wrote in her notebook. Maker only knew what she was writing about. 

Jealous? Spite whispered at his ear. 

No, and he needed to curtail this train of thought – Emmrich could hear Spite. 

The demon sniffed the air and grinned. Ahhhhhhh. Nervous! Afraid. To want!

“Lucanis,” Emmrich said, interrupting the demon. “Were you really spurned once for gifting someone a knife?”

Rook looked at Lucanis, her eyebrows high with surprise. 

He shrugged. “Not ‘spurned’ so much as ignored.” He shook his head. “I just… don’t have Illario’s gift for flirting.”

Rook curled her lip at his comparison to his cousin. He knew she disagreed with him, but she was hardly a neutral party. And it was an objective fact that Illario was far more charming than he was. 

“Well,” Emmrich said. “We all approach things in our own way.” The older man’s frown was gentle. Patient. “Who was it, if I might ask? The recipient of your gift.”

Lucanis shifted in his seat. “A Crow from another House.”

Rook gave him a curious, amused look. 

“It was a long time ago,” he added. 

“I’m surprised that the gift wasn’t better received, then,” Emmrich said. He sounded almost miffed on Lucanis’s behalf, which was nice, but completely unnecessary. Whatever fledgling feelings he’d carried for Viago had long since faded. 

“You’ve met him,” he said. “He’s very… particular.”

Rook’s gaze burned into him, and he knew she had at least a dozen questions she wanted to ask. Lucanis focused on his coffee while she waited for Emmrich’s tea to steep. Once he left, she refilled their cups with the last of the coffee. 

“So,” she said, handing him his cup as she returned to her seat. “A very particular Crow from another House.”

“Yes.”

Her smile only widened at his terse reply. “This wouldn’t happen to be a certain Fifth Talon, would it?”

He rolled his eyes. “It was a long time ago, Rook.” 

Her smile softened as she reached for his hand. “I think it’s sweet,” she said. 

Sweet. He wondered, would she still think him sweet if she knew how he thought of her, late at night? How he imagined her touch, her taste, when the night drew long? How, when his dreams weren’t haunted by the Ossuary, they always featured her? 

She’d said she would leave initiating the more… sensuous aspects of their relationship to him. And while he knew he wasn’t ready for all that could entail, he couldn’t deny he very much wanted a taste. Just a little hint of her desire, to get him through the next aching night. 

Lucanis took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. A soft, chaste kiss they’d shared many times now. Then he turned her hand to press his next kiss to the heel of her palm. 

“Sweet,” he murmured, the word ghosting over her skin. He glanced over at her, saw the surprised heat in her eyes, and his own desire surged through him at the sight. His instincts screamed at him to look away, to hide this feeling from her.

But Lucanis didn’t want to hide anymore. Not from Rook. So, he held her gaze and allowed his own to go molten. 

“And if I don’t want to be sweet?” He asked, his voice low and controlled. He pressed another kiss to the inside of her wrist and hummed when he felt her pulse jump against his lips. 

She watched him as if stunned, her eyes dark and lips parted. She licked her lips and blinked. “What do you want?”

He hummed again and let their hands return to the table between them, still interlaced. He wasn’t entirely sure. He wanted to touch her, to explore her skin and see which spots made heat bloom in her cheeks and her breath hitch. But that wasn’t an activity for midmorning in the dining hall. Plus, she had an outing to prepare for, and Lucanis wanted to take his time with that particular experiment. 

He released Rook’s hand and moved to stand before her. She looked up at him, crystal grace eyes wide and wondering. Then he leaned forward, planting a hand on each arm of her chair, framing her between his arms, his body hovering over hers. Her breath hitched, her chest heaving beneath him, and Lucanis let a slow, pleased smile claim his lips. 

Slowly, he leaned closer to her. Rook lifted her face, her eyes fluttering closed, and for a breath he marveled at her like this. Flushed pink and just a little desperate. She was perfect. 

Rook. WANTS!

Yes, she most certainly did.

Lucanis leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Have fun with Davrin and Assan today,” he said at her ear. She shuddered, and then he pulled away from her with a mischievous grin as she let out a frustrated huff. For a moment he feared he’d done something wrong, perhaps had even upset her, but her frustration turned to an awed chuckle as she opened her eyes and saw his smile. 

“So,” she breathed. “Lucanis Dellamorte is a tease.”

His grin widened, and he ran a hand through his hair. “For you? Yes,” he said. “I think I might be.”

Her blush deepened and she bit her lip, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes. Another gorgeous image to lock away in his mind for later. Then his doubt wormed its way back to the surface. 

“Is that all right?”

“Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “That?” She continued, gesturing at him with one hand while the other brushed her hair back over one ear. “That was… very good.”

It was his turn to blush. He cleared his throat and tugged at his waistcoat. “Good,” he said. 

She stood, eyeing him with plenty of residual heat. “Will I see you in the music room after dinner?”

His heart thumped in his chest, and his throat felt dry. But he thought of his own desire to touch her mere moments ago and nodded. 

“Good,” she said. Then she stood up on her toes and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek. She grinned at him, and then headed out into the bright fade-light of the courtyard. 

Lucanis stood there for a long moment, his hand coming up to touch where her lips had met his skin. “Mierda,” he whispered, shaking his head. 

He was going to kiss her tonight, he decided. They’d both waited long enough. And with his mind made up, now he just needed a distraction to pass the time. He glanced around the dining room, and decided he’d start by cleaning the kitchen. And, when that was done, if he still had Rook’s lips on his mind, he’d go workout. 

Tonight. Just a handful of hours and he would finally know if this first kiss truly tasted like honey and lavender cream. He suspected it wouldn’t. Because, if he had to guess, it would be even sweeter. 

[flightfoot]

ML Fanfic Recs for Completed Fics 70K+ Words

13 fics here in all! 8 of them are even above 100K! That's some impressive dedication.

All of these fics will be in my Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2024 Collection, and if you like that, please consider checking out my other collections, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2023, Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2022, and Keyseeker's Choices For Best Completed Miraculous Fics - Misc. Years.

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Open My Eyes by @buggachat

Adrien smiles as he eats breakfast with Nathalie, smiles as he walks through the halls of his new lycée, smiles as people stop him on the street and tell him time and time again what a "hero" his father was. (Adrien wishes he could've been a hero, too. He should've been. Maybe then his father would still be alive.) (But he's surviving. Everyone may be treating him as though he were made of glass, but he can still go through the motions, he can prove them wrong, he can still smile.) “And you’re… happy,” Marinette spoke carefully, a nervous tilt to her voice, “... right?” (Adrien has some things to find out.)

If you want to see Adrien's response to finding out - well, everything - then this might be the fic for you! He's breaking down pretty badly even with just being an orphan now, so finding out all the awful truths? It's a lot. If you want to see some major emotional reactions and blow-ups, this is the fic for you! Though of course Adrien's put back together at the end as well, buggachat isn't the sort to just leave Adrien to flail without support for long or to have Adrien's and Marinette's relationship remain super strained.

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The Course of True Love by @nedjsmlfavs

Dark Cupid haunts Marinette. Do the events of that fateful day mean that Adrien isn’t her True Love? With a little help from Chat Noir - who has absolutely no personal stakes in this matter - she’s sure to find out. She’ll also learn the unfortunate truth: the course of true love never did run smooth.

So this is adorable, there's some nice Ladrien dating in here! Though also some angst, Chat Blanc still takes place in this storyline, as does a Hawkmoth takedown, and all the angst and trauma that goes with those things. But with Marinette and Adrien together, the two of them can handle anything.

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Finding A Way by @uptoolateart

Collège is nearly over! And what better way to celebrate than a class trip to Costa Rica? But with only a month left to tell Adrien she loves him, Marinette is feeling the pressure. Then – an accident at sea leaves them stranded together on a tropical island…alone. Or are they? Because those footprints in the sand don’t resemble any bird they’ve seen before. And what’s that roaring sound coming from the jungle? ‘Adrien…where ARE we??’ ***** A Jurassic Park / Camp Cretaceous AU that’s been kicking around in my head for over a year

I love the sense of danger permeating this fic, it really feels like Adrien and Marinette are stranded on Jurassic Park (well it's called something else in order to integrate it better into the ML universe, but it operates like Jurassic Park). They're making the best of it though, doing their best to survive - and along the way, getting closer together.

I like that it's not JUST them though, Gabriel and Nathalie find out where they ended up pretty early on and go to rescue them, with Alya and Nino stowing away. It was cool to see that side of things as well.

Oh yeah, this fic is rated M for violence and gore. It's because dinosaurs eat people alive and leave their body parts everywhere. If you can handle the Jurassic Park movie (or presumably the book the movie was based on, but I haven't read that), then you should be just fine.

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Symbiotic Whiskers by B1ackout

Adrien Agreste aka Cat Noir was given the cat ring miraculous to help Ladybug in protecting Paris. But something had found him first, a silent companion that granted him strength and power he never knew existed. Bonded with a symbiote, Cat Noir faces Paris alongside Ladybug without even knowing that someone left a magical ring in his room. (Canon Divergence)

This is a phenomenal fic that deserves more attention. It's kind of funny how he just goes "hey I've got superpowers, she says that the thing we have that gives superpowers is called the Black Cat Miraculous and that the being that gives them is called a kwami, obviously that must be what I have!" though that gets stretched more and more as Adrien's experiences with the symbiote contradict what he's heard about how kwamis work, and Tikki gets increasingly worried about "Plagg's" weird behavior. It's a dark, somewhat brutal fic (people die permanently, and they're not always villains), and it's absolutely worth a read, this is an excellent crossover!

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Perfectly Platonic (Unless...) by @frostedpuffs

After accidentally revealing their identities in less than ideal circumstances, Adrien and Marinette must navigate their newfound relationship as both partners and friends. Becoming best friends was a quick process, but when romantic feelings begin to bleed into what's supposed to be a platonic connection, their friendship starts to change in more ways than one. Surely it can't be that hard to hide their feelings from their best friend? (A post-reveal, pre-relationship fic full of romantic crushes, best friend shenanigans, and a whole lot of dumbassery.)

If you just want a straight-up romance slowburn with these two just somehow being convinced their relationship is platonic (or that the other person wants it to be platonic at least), you'll find little better to scratch that itch than "Perfectly Platonic (Unless...)". It's a little smutty and definitely earns its M rating because of that. If you want mutual pining, there's a ton of that here!

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Dreaming Wide Awake by @uptoolateart

Gabriel died a hero. He sacrificed himself in the final battle against Monarch. Or so Adrien's been told. At least he has his mother there to help him through the grief. So what is this niggling feeling that this isn't how the story was meant to go? And why does he keep having flashes of another world that lies just beneath their own? --------- A follow-up to the Season 5 finale because I am inexpressibly disappointed by what happened in Re-Creation.

So if you wanted an exploration of what could happen post-season 5 and a fix-it for that season's finale, I highly recommend checking out this fic. I love how it explores Adrien's deteriorating mental state over time, how much he's struggling with what he's heard about his father and reconciling that with the abuse he's gone through at the man's hands. And then there's "Cerise" showing up, who rubs him the wrong way for reasons he can't fully lexplain, even to himself...

Pay attention to the title, it's not just there for flavor, it means something.

This fic is rated Mature, but I have no clue why. There's no sexual content and there's pretty minor amounts of violence or gore. I guess Adrien's not in the best place mentally, but it's nothing worthy of an M rating.

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Boulangerella by @aidanchaser

Once upon a time, magic was wild. The two princes of the kingdom have been tasked with choosing their brides by the end of their 21st birthday celebrations. Crown Prince Adrien Agreste will have to choose between a woman who can protect his kingdom, a woman offering the power to wake his sleeping mother, and the woman he has loved and admired for the past year. Then there's also the seamstress that he is suddenly falling for. By the time he realizes he doesn't have the power to choose at all, it may be too late.

I love a good fairy tale AU, and this is no exception. Aidanchaser started writing it before Season 5 came out, so it's wrong about some things. Most notably, Felix's posthumous father was a good and decent person here, and one of the twin rings is Felix's Amok while the other one is Adrien's Amok, instead of both of them being Adrien's Amok.

This was a well-crafted tale, with kwamis operating as Fae: they can give power, but only if the wielder gives something up to pay for it. For temporary usage of their power, it can be something small and innocuous, such as giving Plagg cheese in exchange for his help. More expansive uses of their power requires greater sacrifices however, even sacrificing more nebulous things such as memories or hope.

The kingdom's currently being terrorized by this unknown villain, Hawk Moth, as in the show. Ladybug and Chat Noir emerge to battle him, but for some reason (*cough, cough*), King Gabriel isn't fond of the superheroes and wants them captured.

Gabriel isn't the only threat out there, Lila's skulking around, hinting that she knows how to wake up Emilie from her mysterious illness, if only Adrien marries her. And she's not about to take no for an answer.

If you've been wanting a fairy tale/fantasy Miraculous AU, I recommend giving Boulangerella a shot!

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If I hold you too close by @bbutterflies

Paris didn’t come to a screeching halt for akumas anymore. They were so commonplace, so frequent, no one stopped their lives unless they were in danger. They trusted the heroes to fix everything if something did go wrong, save them if they got hurt. Adrien was still fighting the urge to find Plagg and go running into battle. Plagg wasn’t here, though. --- Post-season 5 where Adrien got sent to London sooner and gave up his Miraculous to keep Paris safe.

If you know this author, then you've probably already guessed that this is an Adrino fic (seriously if you like Adrino, check out bbutterflies fics, though honestly if you ARE an Adrino fan, you probably already have).

So in this scenario, Adrien was sent to London and didn't get to return, so he gave Plagg the ring so he could find another Holder. In this case, Nino. After a few years, once he's an adult, Adrien manages to come back from London, but he's in ROUGH shape. He drinks a lot, he has a reputation for partying hard and causing disruptions, and is really depressed and hates himself, and hates Felinoir (Nino's Black Cat form) even more, for having what he lost.

But even while Adrien's pushing everyone away to protect himself, his old friends refuse to give up on him, even though he's given up on himself.

While Adrien's problems are the primary focus of the fic, they're not the entire focus. Nino gets a POV, and he has personal issues and insecurities of his own. He has trouble holding down relationships, he doesn't have a lot of close friends these days, and he's struggling to keep up in school with all the akumas he's had to fight. He and Ladybug are fine coworkers, but they aren't much more than that - they aren't friends like Chat Noir and Ladybug were.

Oh, also, Nino's a transman. That's also caused some issues in making and keeping friends.

It's a beautiful story of one person hitting rock-bottom and gradually being pulled back out of it again, until they can stand on their own and push themselves up the rest of the way, and of a friend who discovers their childhood best friend (and crush) has changed enormously since they last saw them, and not in good ways - only to find that their friend is, at their core, still there. They just need help seeing it themselves.

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A Small but Stubborn Fire by @cardiac-agreste

What if you were the parent of a teenage superhero, but didn't know they were? All you know is the nightmares, the panic attacks, and the bruises. She's missing school, she's disappearing on you, and she's not telling you anything. So you assume the worst: Assault. Depression. A permanent rift in the family. And what do you do when you realize you weren't thinking dark enough? Because your fourteen-year old daughter is the hero who flirts with death on the nightly news. -- Come inside and read about one mother's struggles to raise her daughter in a dangerous world while avoiding the mistakes her own mother made with her.

This is a more serious take on the consequences of Hawk Moth's war on Paris, with actual bloody, painful deaths as a consequence of many akumas, and Parisians developing PTSD because of what they've gone through. Ladybug can fix all the physical scars, but not the mental ones, including her own.

I love the focus on Sabine here. She's not just presented as being a mom - though of course that IS an important role she has. But she's explored as a character in her own right, one with a lot of emotional baggage as a result of her abusive mother, and trying to not fall into her mistakes, but sometimes doing so anyway out of fear for Marinette's safety. She's a really fleshed out, humanly flawed character, sometimes admitting that she would do something selfish if it means protecting the people she cares most about, like her daughter, even if its at others expense. She grows and changes a lot throughout the course of the story, her perspective on many matters changing multiple times as a result of getting new information or seeing the consequences of her previous approaches, and adjusting as a result.

If you want a fic that more realistically explores the dark consequences of Miraculous's setting, that fleshes out Sabine, or just develops a character in a complex way, then I highly recommend you check "A Small but Stubborn Fire" out!

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Made Miracles series by InkyIbis

A rewrite of Miraculous Ladybug (specifically with the miraculouses lore) with endgame Adrino! It mostly builds off the beginning canon and loosely off the later seasons with a lot more consequences than what the show has for when a magical terrorist shows up out of the blue. In that way, each book is considered like a season with the chapters being the episodes.

First fic in the series: Awaken

The previously white butterfly, now oozing black and purple as a conduit of the butterfly miraculous powers, flutters softly within the silvered-gloved hand. It sits there for a long time. "Go, my akuma," The soft sigh pushes the butterfly, the akuma, out towards the despair of a love not returned. The same ache within his chest. On a level so great that he's willing to sacrifice the city to mend it. It's okay if he's the villain for now. He'll force the miraculous of creation and destruction to be revealed, and once he gets his hands on them, none of this pain, none of his loss, will ever happen.

I put the first fic on my reclist for 2023, and now that the series is completed, I'm putting the whole thing on my reclist for 2024. If you want a rewrite of the series that gives Adrien top-billing, evens out Ladybug's and Chat Noir's power dynamic, is darker, and has Adrino as the main ship, then this series should be right up your alley.

---

To Catch A Thief by @jheqiawrites

As a newly minted agent of INTERPOL, Marinette Dupain-Cheng scores the catch of a lifetime - nabbing the infamous thief and con artist Cat Noir. However, she's the only one who knows that he let her catch him. Soon her life turned upside down by a handsome, not quite reformed, thief who says she is the only person he trusts and they have bigger fish to fry: a secret criminal organization called AKUMA. Together, they solve cases and follow the illusive whispers about a man calling himself Monarch who never leaves a trace. What all is Cat Noir hiding? Will they expose the criminal underworld to the searing light of justice? And will Marinette fall for the man behind the masks?

This fic is inspired by a tv show called "White Collar", about a criminal informant and his handler solving cases. It does not follow the plotlines of that show, however, just the basic concept. While this is a No Powers AU, so there's now superpowers, the kwamis are human, etc, characters' personalities are still pretty intact.

Anyway, it's a lot of fun! I loved seeing Adrien's and Marinette's relationship develop, and the bureau slowly growing to like and trust Adrien, to want him to be safe and happy and to help him with his problems (it helps that his problems tend to be their problems as well, AKUMA doesn't like Chat Noir much.)

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A Breach In The Brooch by @piromina

Ladybug and Chat Noir are the heroes of Paris. Hawkmoth is Chat Noir's father. Chat Noir is aware of this. Hawkmoth is not.

So this is an interesting spin on the classic "Gabriel recruits Adrien early on to help him" plotline. Mostly because Adrien is still Chat Noir in this AND still helping Ladybug as a superhero - Gabriel has no clue about his secret identity.

Plagg, unsurprisingly, isn't thrilled about Adrien refusing to tell Ladybug what he knows about Hawkmoth's identity, and that Adrien keeps following Gabriel's orders, even when he knows they're wrong. Though he figures out before Adrien does that Adrien's compulsion to follow his father's orders isn't just a psychological thing...

I really love Plagg in this especially, he's the MVP. He knows what it's like to be compelled to do or not to do certain things, so he's good at comforting Adrien over it and at finding loopholes for him.

---

Withered Wings by @11jj11

Nino wasn’t sure if anyone had ever willingly took the akuma butterfly before him, but with his mind completely open to this apparent son of Hawk Moth he knew that he couldn’t turn him away. Not someone that was so afraid, not someone who would be left at the mercy of Hawk Moth.

This fic is amazing! Just... some absolutely stellar Adrino, with some nice Alyanette on the side, AND it's one of the best Enemies AU (well, sort of. Adrien's on Hawkmoth's side, but Nino isn't, exactly), in the fandom! I love how much we get of Nino's perspective, his determination to save this boy who's been thrown into these battles, who clearly doesn't want to hurt people but is compelled to do so, while balancing it with trying to prevent damage to anyone else as well. He has to be the one to look after Adrien, because no one else will do so.

I also love the focus Alya gets here, as Marinette's partner. She does an amazing job in the role, with every Miraculous she gets, even though she isn't a perfect wielder.

That's something else, I like the bits of worldbuilding this adds in, with people who fully embody the aspect a kwami represents being able to transform more fully. That does not mean, however, that an imperfect match is a bad thing, the kwami and wielder can still be very strong together and get along well, even if they don't perfectly align.

I adore how Nino had to balance his roles in this, helping Adrien without hurting others, even fighting back against the heroes as needed, as much as he didn't want to. And how understanding people were when they found out the full story of what was going on. It's a truly fantastic story that anyone who likes Enemies AU, Adrino, or just want to read a good Miraculous fic should check out.

I do want to warn that Gabriel and Nathalie are significantly OOC in this. Gabriel's even more abusive and colder than he is in canon, and Nathalie is WAY worse. This fic started before season 5, so it wasn't known what Nathalie's red line would be. As a result, Adrien's more downtrodden than he is in canon, since the consequences of disobedience are worse than being cut off from friends, or even being made to sit in a blank white room indefinitely.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Hello loves!! This was a request by Sammy over on ao3!! Fic under the cut love y'all!!

Two-Bit was used to a lot of things. One of them was drinkin' too much. The other was wakin' up to people mad at him. It sorta came with the territory. Go out huntin' action. Have a drink. Have another. Meet up with some buddies. Have two more. And then a pack. Black out somewhere between the sixth 'n the eleventh. Wake up to someone mad.

Mostly Darry.

Now what he was not used to was wakin' up the next mornin' to a hangover that could have killed a racehorse, the sound of door slammin' so hard it nearly came straight off the hinges, 'n Dallas Winston ready to spit nails. Mostly Dallas. Not the hangover. That was to be expected.

"Where the fuck is Two-Bit?" Ah. Well. That couldn't bode well. Two scrapes himself off the bed, Darry's, which also couldn't be a great sign considerin' he had no memory of how he got there, 'n tilts his head so he can hear better.

"What's goin' on?" Pony pries 'n Two chuckles to himself 'n then groans. Damn, his head hurt.

"Pone, stay out of it." Dallas stomps down the hall, bangin' open doors 'n rattlin' the picture frames. If his head wasn't poundin' so hard Two might've thought about the implications of that more but right now he just wants to bury under a pillow 'n go back to bed.

"Why don't you stay out of it you're in my house." Pony grumbles but retreats back into the living room. Two only has half a second to force himself up before Darry's bedroom door slams against the wall.

Dallas looks pissed. Not aggravated or irked or hacked off. Pissed.

"You fuckin' asshole." Two throws his hands up 'n grins.

"Nice to see ya too, Dally." Dallas sneers, silver tooth catchin' the light dangerously. He's across the room before Two can blink, fist balled up in the front of his shirt, yankin' him close. Two suddenly feels deeply nauseous.

"You're way over the fuckin' line." Dallas jars him back 'n forth 'n Two's not focused on anythin' but keepin' the contents of his stomach down 'n off of Dallas' jacket. Somehow he doubts that'll improve his mood. Dallas takes one good look at Two 'n scowls. "Do you even fuckin' remember?"

Last night... last night... Nothin'. Dallas drops him. "Oh my God you don't even remember."

"Well, you sure know how to jog a guy's memory." Dallas glares at him like he's seriously considerin' knockin' his lights out. 'N Two knows Dallas. He will. "What happened?"

Dallas rolls his eyes, leans back against the wall. "So now I gotta play twenty fuckin' questions with you just so I can knock your teeth in?"

"Hey, give a man some credit. I bet I can get it in nineteen." Dallas shoves himself off the wall 'n Two instinctively kicks a foot out. Dallas just rolls his eyes 'n boots him in the ankle, steppin' over it. Two yelps 'n Dallas elbows him in the side to get him to move, droppin' down on the bed.

"Well, I ain't kickin' your ass until you can well 'n good remember why."

"Jesus, this is not kickin' my ass? Don't get too generous now." Two rubs at his ribs, sticks out his bottom lip in a passable imitation of Pony.

"Don't start that shit on me- I can hardly stomach it when Pony does it." There's an indignant sound from somewhere in the hall 'n Dallas scowls, gets up, 'n disappears out the door. Two can vaguely hear Dallas manhandlin' the kid out into the living room to Pony's great displeasure.

"Stop. Bein'. Nosy." Two takes the chance to fully untangle himself from the sheets. There's a glass of water on the bedside that Two guesses Darry left. God, he was real good to them sometimes. Most times. He'd have to think of a way to make it up to him. Maybe stop bein' such a little shit.

"That's rich comin' from you-AGH!" There's a distinct sound of Dallas jumpin' on Pony 'n Two snorts. After all, Darry had his hands full in that department.

"Dallas, conserve some of that ass-kickin' energy for me, I'm gettin' jealous in here!"

"Fuck off!" Dallas shouts back but Two can also hear him slam the kid down on the couch 'n retreat back down the hall.

"Look out, Two, he's in a mood." Pony hollers 'n Dallas damn near spins on his heel to give the kid part two.

"C'mon, Dal. You're gonna wear yourself out before you even get to bust my head in." Dallas pauses, shoots him a glare, but stomps back into the room.

"God, now I get why Darry's always got a stick up his ass. Between the two of you I could get a fuckin' ulcer."

"Damn, now you really sound like ol' Dar. You gonna go grey, too?" Dal socks him in the ribs 'n Two groans.

"I don't think you got any goddamn room to talk. I hear Darry had to scrape you off the drive-in pavement." A brief memory of Darry's face as he marched toward him 'n hauled him up flashes through his mind. He's got the impression he had something real funny. Man, he wishes he could remember that.

"Is that what you're pissed about? Man, I don't know what Darry's been puttin' in your Wheaties. He slidin' you a little extra cash so you get to knock my teeth out instead of him? Or are you payin' him for that privilege?" Two throws a guess at the wall 'n Dallas glowers.

"Darry can beat you to a pulp all on his lonesome. Fuckin' think."

"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'." Last night. Last night. C'mon. "I dunno, man." He was startin' to get nervous 'n Dallas' mood was not improvin'. Two felt suddenly like he was about to be told off 'n read his goddamn rights by the way Dallas' face darkened.

"Well, let me jog you're fuckin' memory. You started with about a pack 'n a half of Bud's which, by the way, Darry almost kicked my ass for 'cause he thought I had walked off with 'em." Two hisses in sympathy 'n Dallas narrows his eyes. "'N then you beat it outta here to go cruise some fuckin' action at the Dingo already pissed out of your fuckin' mind."

Look. Two knew he drank too much. He knew he should probably lay off it a bit. Or a bunch. But Dallas wasn't exactly a pillar of good behavior or nothin'. He was startin' to get deja vu for the well-tread you need to shape up conversation Darry gave him once a month. Two would argue that was improvement. They used to have it once a week.

But Dallas didn't give a shit about bad habits unless it came to Pony. Or Johnny. Or shit, he had that weird thing with that Shepard kid, too. Didn't like none of 'em doin' anythin' too hard.

He's got a sudden wheedlin' feelin' this has somethin' to do with one of 'em.

"Earth to fuckin' Two-Bit." Dallas snaps a hand in front of his face.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm thinkin'." He does actually remember that. He'd caught the end of a movie 'n some action in the form of some little fistfight. Nothin' real tough. Just enough to get his blood pumpin'. Now that he was thinkin' about it, he swore he'd run into someone. Glory, who was it?

"Any fuckin' day now." Dallas doesn't seem to be workin' himself down any. If anythin' he's gettin' real pissed again. "I'm about to stop worryin' about you rememberin' why I'm cavin' your skull in."

"Glory, I'm gettin' to it. Maybe I should have let you put Pony on his ass so I could have a minute to get my head on straight."

"You couldn't get your head on straight if I beat Pony to a bloody pulp for the next week 'n a half." He gets another picture of a memory. Pony sittin' at the table when he headed out, diligently workin' on a project he was supposed to have finished last week before Darry came home 'n beat his ass.

So Pony was out.

"I ran into someone, right? Man, I can almost remember. That's what this is about, right?" Dallas glares at him, white blonde hair fallin' in his eyes. "Right, no twenty questions."

And Johnny, too. Johnny was with Pony 'cause Darry had been strong armin' him into stayin' at the Curtis' since his parents had been on a real bender lately.

"Glory God all-fuckin'- mighty. It was-"

Oh. Wait. He shakes his head hard. Fuck. He remembers who. 'N that bode deeply ill for him.

"Curly. Curly Shepard, yeah?"

Dallas' eyes darken 'n he slides off the bed 'n gets to his feet. Bad sign. "Ding ding ding."

Ah. Well. Shit.

So here's the thing. Dallas liked to pretend like he didn't give a shit. 'N most of them were inclined to pretend they believed him. When he pulled the odd stunt 'n then turned around 'n acted like he couldn't care if any of 'em lived or died they all nodded along 'n, behind closed doors, knew better.

Like that time he'd taken Two's rap for bustin' the school windows or went down for those stolen hubcaps they all knew Steve had lifted or told Darry it was him that put the dent in his bumper when Soda had accidentally backed into a pole.

Sometimes, when he wasn't bein' a fuckin' hood, Dallas was a real good guy.

Now the problem was he also had no problem takin' it out of your ass when he thought you'd been a dick. By his standards. He'd jumped Steve once for pushin' Pony too hard 'n makin' the kid cry 'n whaled the tar outta Soda that time he'd talked Johnny into ridin' in a rodeo 'n the kid had damn near killed himself 'n had no problem hollerin' at Darry when he was bein' unreasonable. However rare it was. The first time Two had let Pony try a beer Dallas had nearly blown a fuckin' gasket.

"You remember what happened?" Dallas rolls his shoulders back, shakes his rings off.

"I'm workin' on it." Two eyes him. It's right there. Just at his fingertips. He'd said somethin' to the kid. Most have been somethin' fucked.

"Tim told me it had the kid real fucked up. He was gonna come down here 'n kick your ass but I figured Darry might beat him into the ground for that so I'm doin' him the favor."

'N Two realizes somethin'.

"Wait a minute. You don't know what the hell I said either!" Dallas shrugs his jacket off, rolls his eyes.

"Whatever it was must've been fucked up to upset Curly." He shoots him a glare, narrows his eyes. "Don't fuckin' tell anyone that, by the way. Or I'll kick your ass again. Now, c'mon."

"Wait, wait, wait. I think I remember- I do remember!" The rest of the night suddenly crashes into his head like a thunderbolt. He throws a hand up to bat away Dallas as he goes to grab him. "I said-

God, Two howls a laugh 'n Curly scowls even deeper. Any more 'n it'd be permanent. Two knew he hated it but he really did look like Tim in miniature. He also looked like-

Curly, kid, you look like if they greased up a wet cat, you know that?

Dallas drops his grip on Two-Bit 'n blinks. Once. Twice. Oh, Jesus here we go. Two should have just kept his mouth shut.

Then he slaps a hand to his mouth 'n cackles to himself so hard he has to grab the doorway. "That's it? Man, the bitch fit Curly had thrown had me thinkin' you'd said somethin' vile man. God that's funny."

"Glad to give you all the facts before you come down like a hammer on my poor ass." Two tries to look put out 'n doesn't manage it at all. Dallas raises an eyebrow at him 'n suddenly they're both howlin'.

"Well, shit. I already promised I'd put a fuckin' pop knot on your head for that shit." They're both still gigglin' intermittently, Pony havin' appeared in the doorway at some point only to have the door slammed in his face for bein' so goddamn nosy. I'll tell you later, glory God.

"Look, I'll stand still for it. I feel kinda bad for upsettin' the kid anyway. Even if he did deserve it." Dallas raises an eyebrow incredulously but shrugs a shoulder.

"Fine. I'm gonna pop you in the eye so Tim can see it, dig? I'll try not to break anythin'."

"Hey, for my sake? Try real hard." Two's got a couple inches on Dallas so he plops back on the bed, lettin' Dal grab him by the shoulders 'n line up his punch.

"Ready?"

"As ever."

Dallas lets his fist fly at the same time the door slams open again.

"Dallas Tucker Winston 'n Keith Mathews." 'N Two's actually grateful he can't see anythin'. "Why can't I ever leave this house without comin' back to a brawl?"

Dallas glances down at Two as he presses a hand over his eye. They both last three seconds before they're both howlin'.

"Would it make a difference if I said he asked for it?"

[advisorykitty]

hello! I’m the person who wrote the Randal x wheelchair user request (I’M ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH IT AAHH)! I was maybe wondering if you could do a part 2 or maybe one shot? :3 no pressure at all! You don’t have to do it ofc. I hope you’re doing well!

Just a trip!

Hope ya like the oneshot!!! I hope you're doing well too ^_^

The sound of creaking metal and distant echoes made your stomach churn as you rolled your wheelchair along the uneven ground. The air was damp and heavy, carrying a metallic tang that left a strange taste in your mouth. You didn’t know why you agreed to this—or, more accurately, how Randal had convinced you. Again.

“We’re gonna have so much fun!” Randal chirped, pushing your wheelchair down the narrow corridor of the abandoned factory. His mismatched shoes squeaked against the grimy concrete floor. “This place is perfect, don’t you think? So spooky! And dangerous. I love it.”

You gripped the armrests of your chair tighter, trying to keep your breathing steady. “Randal, I… I don’t think this is safe.”

He leaned over your shoulder, his wild grin almost brushing your cheek. “Safe? Pfft. Where’s the fun in that? You’re with me, so you’ve got nothing to worry about!”

That didn’t reassure you at all. Randal wasn’t exactly known for his careful planning or concern for other people’s well-being. Still, you’d never seen him this excited, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. You never did.

Randal continued to chatter as he pushed you deeper into the building. “Did you know this place used to be a meatpacking plant? Lots of sharp tools and hooks and stuff. I bet they left some behind! Ooh, maybe we’ll find something really creepy, like… I dunno, a severed hand or a haunted chainsaw!”

You swallowed hard. “Why… why would we want to find that?”

“Why not?” Randal shot back, giggling like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. He stopped abruptly, making your chair jolt. “Oh, look at this!”

He darted ahead, leaving you alone for a moment. Your chest tightened as you glanced around the dimly lit space. The flickering light from Randal’s flashlight cast eerie shadows on the cracked walls, making them seem alive. The faint hum of distant machinery—though the factory had been abandoned for years—sent a shiver down your spine.

“Uh… Randal?” you called out, your voice trembling.

“Relax, bunny! I’m right here!” His face popped out of the darkness suddenly, and you let out a startled yelp. He doubled over with laughter. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen your face! Priceless!”

You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart. “Don’t do that!”

He tilted his head, still grinning. “Why not? You’re so cute when you’re scared.” He grabbed the handles of your wheelchair again and started pushing you down another hallway. “C’mon, don’t chicken out now. We’re just getting started!”

The two of you eventually reached a massive room filled with rusted machinery. Chains hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly in a nonexistent breeze. Randal parked your wheelchair near a conveyor belt and hopped onto it, balancing precariously on the edge.

“Check this out!” he said, kicking at a chain to make it rattle. “Doesn’t this place just scream ‘horror movie’? Imagine all the things that could’ve happened here. Blood. Screaming. Death. Awesome, right?”

You didn’t answer. Your eyes were glued to the dark corners of the room, where the flashlight’s beam couldn’t reach. Every creak and groan of the old building made you flinch.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Randal hopped down and crouched in front of you, his face uncomfortably close to yours. “You’re not scared, are you?”

You hesitated, then nodded slightly. “A little…”

His grin widened. “Good! Fear makes everything more exciting. It’s like… seasoning for life. Or maybe dessert. Yeah, fear is dessert.” He stood up and twirled the flashlight like a baton. “But don’t worry. If anything tries to hurt you, I’ll rip it apart. Easy peasy.”

You weren’t sure whether that was comforting or terrifying.

The mood shifted abruptly when you heard a loud clang from somewhere above.

You froze. “Randal… what was that?”

“Probably a ghost,” he said nonchalantly, tilting his head to listen. “Or a rat. Or a ghost rat! Oh, wouldn’t that be cool? I should make a doll of that.”

The sound came again, louder this time. It was followed by the unmistakable groan of metal straining under pressure.

“Uh… maybe we should leave,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Randal waved you off. “Nah, it’s probably nothing. Besides, brother would kill me if I came home this early.”

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fumbled to pull it out and saw Luther’s name on the screen. Before you could answer, Randal snatched the phone away.

“Brotherrr!” he sang into the phone. “Guess where we are!”

You couldn’t hear Luther’s response, but judging by the way Randal winced, it wasn’t pleasant.

“Relax, big brother! We’re just having a little adventure. You worry too much.” He paused, then laughed. “Okay, okay, fine. We’ll head back soon. Jeez, you’re no fun.” He hung up and handed the phone back to you.

“Big brother is such a buzzkill,” Randal muttered, kicking at a loose bolt on the floor. “But I guess we should wrap this up. For now.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “We still have to get out of here alive.”

As Randal wheeled you back toward the exit, the building seemed to come alive around you. The groaning metal grew louder, accompanied by distant thuds and the occasional sound of shattering glass.

“See? Isn’t this fun?” Randal said, laughing as he dodged a falling piece of debris. “It’s like the whole place is trying to kill us! What a rush!”

You couldn’t even respond; you were too busy clutching the armrests of your chair, your heart pounding in your chest.

By the time you finally reached the exit, you were shaking. Randal, on the other hand, looked like he’d just had the time of his life.

“That was awesome!” he said, spinning in a circle. “We should do this again sometime.”

You stared at him, your face pale. “Randal… you’re insane.”

He grinned, leaning down to meet your gaze. “Maybe. But you’re stuck with me anyway, bunny.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue.

As the two of you made your way back to the street, Randal started humming a creepy little tune under his breath.

You promise yourself that next time you'll Sebastian handle him.. well more like endure..

Hope ya guys enjoyed this! Also i cba asked to proof read so mind the msitakes pls!! ^_^

[pastelanatomy]

LAVENDER - casey novak, alex cabot

description: alex takes care of her girlfriend, casey. pairing: casey novak x alex cabot. genre: fluff. wc: 1k.

Lavender flowers represent purity, silence, devotion, serenity, grace, and calmness. 

The moment Casey Novak stepped into their shared apartment, Alex Cabot immediately knew something was wrong. Her girlfriend, usually so poised and unflappable, looked utterly defeated. Her striking hazel eyes were rimmed with red, her cheeks streaked with tears, and the usual confident spark in her gaze was nowhere to be found. Alex’s heart clenched at the sight, an overwhelming wave of concern pushing her to act.

Alex, who had been lounging on the couch with a glass of wine and a stack of case files, was on her feet in seconds. Her lawyerly composure gave way to something far more personal - protective, nurturing, and utterly devoted.

“Casey,” Alex said, her voice soft but firm as she crossed the room to meet her. She cupped Casey’s face gently, tilting it up so their eyes met. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

Casey managed a faint, watery smile, leaning into Alex’s touch as if it were the only thing holding her upright. “It’s nothing, really. Just a tough day in court.”

Alex’s piercing blue eyes narrowed slightly. She was a master of reading people, and she could see right through Casey’s attempt to downplay her emotions. “Case, don’t do that,” she said, brushing a thumb over one tear-stained cheek. “Nothing doesn’t leave you looking like this. Was it something someone said? A judge? A client? Was it McCoy?”

Casey chuckled weakly, her laugh brittle but real, and shook her head. “You always think it’s McCoy.”

“That’s because McCoy can be a jerk,” Alex replied without hesitation. Her arms encircled Casey’s waist, pulling her close as her voice softened again. “Talk to me. Let me help.”

For a moment, Casey hesitated, the weight of the day threatening to overwhelm her again. But as she felt Alex’s steady embrace, the wall she’d been holding up all day finally cracked. She let out a shaky sigh, her voice breaking as she spoke. “It was just... one of those cases, you know? The ones where you fight so hard, but it still feels like you’ve lost.”

Alex pressed a kiss to the top of Casey’s head, her lips lingering there for a moment. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” she murmured. She guided Casey to the couch, pulling her down and wrapping her arms tightly around her. “You don’t have to carry that alone. I’m here, okay? I’ve got you.”

Casey buried her face in Alex’s shoulder, letting the warmth and comfort of her girlfriend’s presence wash over her. “Thank you, Alex,” she whispered.

“Always,” Alex replied, stroking her fingers gently through Casey’s hair. “And if anyone ever makes you feel like this again, just point me in their direction. I’ll handle it.”

This time, Casey let out a more genuine laugh, though her voice was still hoarse with emotion. “You’re scary when you’re protective, you know that?”

“Good,” Alex said with a small smile, pressing a kiss to Casey’s temple. “Because no one messes with my girl.”

As Casey’s tension began to ease, Alex gently helped her up. “Let’s get you out of these clothes and into something more comfortable. I have just the thing to help you feel better.”

Curious, Casey allowed Alex to lead her into the bathroom. While Casey sat on the edge of the tub, Alex turned on the faucet, carefully adjusting the temperature until it was just right. She reached for a bottle of lavender bubble bath, Casey’s favorite, and poured a generous amount under the running water. Soon, the calming scent of lavender filled the room, the soft bubbles rising as Alex gave the water a quick swirl with her hand.

“You don’t have to do all this,” Casey said, her voice soft but touched with gratitude.

Alex turned to her with a loving smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Casey’s ear. “I know I don’t have to,” she said, her tone tender. “But I want to. Let me take care of you.”

She helped Casey out of her work clothes with gentle hands, folding them neatly and setting them aside. Casey felt the tension in her shoulders begin to loosen as Alex’s hands brushed over her skin, her gaze full of love and unspoken reassurance.

Once Casey was settled in the warm, fragrant water, she let out a soft sigh, her body sinking into the bubbles. But Alex wasn’t finished yet. She quickly shed her own clothes and climbed into the tub behind Casey, settling in so that Casey could lean back against her chest.

The soothing warmth of the water and the steady rhythm of Alex’s hands tracing light circles on her arms melted away the last remnants of Casey’s stress. For a while, they sat there in comfortable silence, the only sounds the gentle lapping of water and the occasional soft murmur from Alex.

“You’re so strong, you know that?” Alex whispered, her lips close to Casey’s ear. “You’re brilliant and compassionate, and I’m so proud of you.”

Casey’s breath hitched slightly at the words, but instead of crying again, she let herself relax fully into Alex’s embrace, the tension finally leaving her body.

When the water began to cool, Alex helped Casey out of the tub, wrapping her in a fluffy towel before grabbing one for herself. She carefully dried Casey’s hair, her movements slow and tender, before wrapping the towel snugly around her. “There,” Alex said with a small, satisfied smile. “Much better.”

They moved to the bedroom, where Alex had already laid out their coziest pajamas. Casey chuckled softly when she saw Alex’s choice - plaid flannel bottoms and an old Yale sweatshirt. “You’re too good to me, you know,” Casey said as she slipped into her own pajamas.

“Not possible,” Alex replied with a smirk, pulling Casey into bed and tucking the blankets securely around them. Once they were settled, Alex wrapped her arms around Casey, holding her close.

The room was quiet except for Alex’s soft whispers as she pressed kisses to Casey’s hair. “I’ve got you, love. You’re safe with me. No one can hurt you here.”

Casey’s body relaxed completely, her breathing slowing as Alex’s words wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “I love you,” Alex whispered, her voice barely audible. By then, Casey was already fast asleep, her face peaceful against Alex’s chest. Alex smiled to herself, holding her girl close and vowing to always be her safe haven.

[shizuturnspages]

Yandere Geto Suguru with a Non-Sorcerer Darling Who Opposes His Goals

Conflicted Obsession:

❥ Geto is torn between his disdain for non-sorcerers and his overwhelming affection for you. You’re the exception to his philosophy, the one non-sorcerer he sees as worthy. It drives him mad, knowing that his ideals should make him hate you, but instead, he can’t stop craving your presence.

❥ “You’re different,” he insists, his tone soft but firm. “Not like the rest of them. You belong with me.”

Twisted Protection:

❥ Geto believes that by keeping you close, he’s shielding you from the world he plans to reshape. He convinces himself that isolating you from other non-sorcerers is for your own good—they’re “beneath” you, after all.

❥ If you argue that you don’t agree with his goals, he brushes it off with a chilling smile. “You’ll understand one day,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m doing this for us.”

Manipulative Tactics:

❥ Geto is a master manipulator, subtly twisting your words and emotions to make you question your stance. If you voice opposition, he’ll turn it back on you, making it seem like your disagreement stems from ignorance rather than genuine belief.

❥ He might say things like, “You’ve seen how cruel the world is to people like me. How could you side with those who’ve hurt us?” His words are designed to plant doubt and guilt, ensuring you feel tethered to him even if your values clash.

Subtle Isolation:

❥ While Geto doesn’t openly imprison you, he ensures you’re cut off from anyone who might challenge his influence. Friends who disagree with him conveniently “disappear” from your life, and he replaces them with people loyal to his cause—or just himself.

❥ If you try to leave or seek help, you’ll find that his network is vast, and there’s nowhere to hide. He’s relentless, ensuring that you’re constantly reminded that his reach is inescapable.

Obsession Disguised as Devotion:

❥ To Geto, his love for you is pure and unwavering, even if it manifests in terrifying ways. He views his actions as necessary sacrifices for a greater cause—keeping you by his side, even if it means breaking you down emotionally, is a small price to pay.

❥ “You’re all I have left that’s good in this world. Don’t take that away from me,” he says, his voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and menace.

The Dichotomy of Love and Hatred:

❥ There are moments when Geto’s disdain for non-sorcerers clashes with his love for you, creating a volatile mix of emotions. He’ll lash out verbally or grow cold, only to apologize profusely later, claiming he’s under stress and you’re his only solace.

❥ Deep down, he fears that his feelings for you make him weak, and this fear fuels his more controlling tendencies.

Scenario: The One Thing That Doesn’t Fit

The room was dim, the only light spilling from a single flickering bulb hanging overhead. You stood near the door, your posture tense, your fists clenched at your sides. Across the room, Geto sat on the edge of a wooden table, his usual calm demeanour betrayed by the subtle tap of his fingers against the surface.

“You don’t get it, do you?” you snapped, your voice trembling—not with fear, but with anger. “What you’re doing is wrong, Suguru. You can’t just wipe out people because they don’t have sorcery.”

Geto tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Wrong?” he echoed, his tone almost amused. “Darling, wrong is letting weaklings like them exist in a world they can’t possibly understand. I’m creating balance. Order.”

You shook your head, stepping closer despite the unease that crept up your spine. “You’re not a god. You don’t get to decide who lives and who dies.”

The smile slipped from his face, replaced by a look that sent a chill down your spine. He rose to his full height, crossing the room in a few deliberate steps until he was standing inches from you.

“I may not be a god,” he said, his voice low, his eyes boring into yours. “But I’m the closest thing this broken world has. And I can’t stand by and watch you side with them—those who would hurt you, exploit you, destroy you if they had the chance.”

“They haven’t hurt me,” you shot back, refusing to back down. “And they wouldn’t. Not everyone is like that, Suguru. You’re lumping everyone into one category just because they’re different.”

His hand shot out, gripping your chin—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make you look at him. “You don’t see it,” he said, his tone almost mournful. “You don’t see the danger they pose. But that’s okay.” He softened his grip, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “That’s why I’m here—to protect you, even from your own naivety.”

“Protect me?” you spat, pulling away from his touch. “You’re not protecting me, Suguru. You’re controlling me. And I won’t let you.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then he chuckled—a low, bitter sound that made your chest tighten.

“You think you have a choice?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement and something darker. “You think you can just walk away from me? From this?”

He reached out again, this time taking your hand in his. His grip was gentle, almost tender, but the look in his eyes betrayed the steel beneath the surface.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Mine to protect, mine to love. And if that means keeping you away from those who don’t deserve you, then so be it.”

You yanked your hand free, your frustration boiling over. “I’m not yours, Suguru! I’m my own person, and I’ll decide who deserves my time—who deserves my love.”

His expression darkened, the room seeming to grow colder as his smile returned—this time, sharper, more dangerous.

“You’re right,” he said, his tone deceptively calm. “You are your own person. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let anyone else have you.”

As the weight of his words settled over you, you realized just how deep his obsession ran. To him, you weren’t just a person. You were a symbol—a shining example of what he believed the world could be if it were purged of its impurities. And he would stop at nothing to keep you by his side, even if it meant tearing the world apart in the process.

[wadewnstonwilson]

do you want to play a game?

summary: Wade Wilson (Deadpool) finds himself strapped to a sadistic torture chair in a room filled with gruesome contraptions, yet he remains gleefully sarcastic, much to the frustration of Jigsaw's ominous puppet.

word count: 1.6k

trigger warnings: violence, gore, torture, body horror

authors note: this was a headcanon idea someone posted a while back and asked to have a fic written about it, if it was you please let me know so I can properly tag you!

The room was dimly lit, a mixture of cold steel and rusted iron making up its gruesome decor. Wade Wilson, the infamous Deadpool, sat in the center of the room strapped to a chair, surrounded by a series of sadistic contraptions clearly meant to inspire terror. For most people, this would be the worst day of their lives. But Wade? Wade was thrilled.

“Well, hello, Mr. Saw!” Wade chirped with all the enthusiasm of a kid meeting their favorite mascot at Disneyland. His voice echoed through the dimly lit, blood-streaked room, cutting through the oppressive silence like a hot knife through butter. Strapped securely to a steel chair, Wade looked more like a man sitting in for a casual dental cleaning than someone caught in the clutches of a notorious serial killer.

The room smelled of rust and mildew, the air thick with the metallic tang of dried blood. Around him were a variety of deadly contraptions: gears, blades, and wires all meticulously arranged in a manner that suggested their designer had spent a bit too much time watching home renovation shows. Wade wasn’t scared. If anything, he was curious.

He squinted at the giant monitor flickering to life before him. The screen revealed the infamous Jigsaw puppet, its soulless eyes staring back at him with what Wade could only interpret as disapproval. “Okay, seriously,” Wade continued, completely ignoring the ominous vibe, “do you get these machines wholesale, or are they custom jobs? Because I gotta tell ya, the craftsmanship here? Chef’s kiss.”

The puppet’s expression remained unchanged, its head tilting slightly as if processing Wade’s commentary.

“I mean,” Wade went on, craning his neck as much as his restraints would allow, “are those hand-welded joints? No, really, this is top-tier work. I’ve seen Avengers tech, and honestly? Kinda mid compared to this. Do you have a Pinterest board for inspiration? Or do you just wing it?”

The puppet’s voice crackled through the speaker, distorted and menacing. “I want to play a game.”

“Oh! Oh!” Wade exclaimed, practically vibrating in his seat with excitement. “Twister? Monopoly? No wait, let me guess—Candyland! I love Candyland. Can I be the gumdrop guy? No one ever lets me be the gumdrop guy.”

The puppet’s eye twitched. Or, at least, Wade imagined it did. “Your constant need for validation and unrelenting irreverence have landed you here. If you do not escape this trap in time, your body will be—”

“—ripped apart, blood everywhere, yadda yadda, we get it. You really need a new schtick, Jiggy. I mean, what’s next, making me choose between tacos and chimichangas? Ha! Joke’s on you—I don’t choose. Ever.”

A metallic whir sounded as the trap sprung into action. Sharp blades inched closer to Wade’s arms, clearly designed to slice them off unless he solved the contraption before him.

“Neat,” Wade muttered, leaning as far as the straps allowed to get a closer look. “Do these things come in red?”

------

Logan Howlett prowled through the shadow-choked labyrinth of the abandoned city district, his boots crunching softly against the cracked pavement. The air was thick with the stench of mildew, rotting wood, and despair—an oppressive cocktail that clung to his heightened senses like oil on water. Neon lights flickered weakly from the occasional shattered sign, casting brief, eerie glows across graffitied walls and broken windows. This place had been dead for years, left to fester in its decay.

It was the kind of place Wade Wilson would love.

That thought made Logan’s scowl deepen, his jaw tightening as his claws slid out of his knuckles with a soft snikt. The silver blades glinted faintly in the dim light, their familiar weight offering a grim reassurance. Wade hadn’t answered a single one of Logan’s calls in days. Normally, that would’ve been a welcome reprieve—Logan wasn’t exactly the type to miss Wade’s incessant jokes or ceaseless chatter. But this time, something was off. Wade didn’t just not show up. The guy was like a damn cockroach, always turning up where you least expected him, unkillable and annoying as hell. For him to go silent? That meant trouble.

“Where the hell are ya, Wilson?” Logan growled under his breath, his gravelly voice swallowed by the shadows around him.

He came to a halt, sniffing the air. His hyper-sensitive nose twitched as he sifted through the various odors polluting the area���garbage, oil, rat droppings, the faint tang of rusted metal. And then he caught it, faint but distinct: the unmistakable scent of blood. Not just any blood. Wade’s.

Logan’s teeth clenched as he closed his eyes and inhaled again, isolating the scent. It was there, mixed with sweat and... something else. Fear? No. Wade didn’t do fear. It was exhaustion. Pain. The kind of pain that would kill a lesser man ten times over.

His claws slid back into his hands as he moved, quick and silent, through the maze of alleys. The scent grew stronger, more focused, leading him deeper into the heart of the district. He passed crumbling buildings with boarded-up windows, their skeletal remains groaning in protest against the night wind. A flicker of movement caught his eye—a rat scurrying across his path—but he ignored it. His focus was razor-sharp now, his instincts taking over as he tracked the trail.

The scent led him to a narrow alley that terminated in a massive steel door. It was dented and rusted, the kind of industrial barrier that screamed bad news. A faint smear of blood marked the handle, barely visible in the dim light, but Logan’s eyes caught it immediately. He placed a hand on the door, pausing for a moment to listen. His sharp hearing picked up the hum of machinery inside, accompanied by faint, muffled voices. Or maybe just one voice.

“Wilson,” Logan muttered, his voice a low rumble. His claws unsheathed again, a primal response to the growing anger roiling in his gut. He pushed the door, and it gave slightly under his strength, creaking open just enough to let him slip inside.

The interior was worse than he expected. It was a labyrinth of machinery and steel, a factory of nightmares brought to life. Gears turned noisily, chains rattled, and the faint smell of burnt metal stung his nose. The walls were lined with grotesque contraptions, each one a testament to the sadistic mind that had designed them. But Logan barely registered the horror of the place. His focus was on one thing—the idiot who’d managed to get himself into this mess.

Wade’s scent was stronger now, the blood fresher. Logan followed it through the maze of corridors, his movements a combination of raw instinct and calculated precision. Every muscle in his body was coiled, ready to strike. He rounded a corner, his sharp hearing picking up something new—laughter. Muffled, but undeniably familiar. It was Wade’s laugh, laced with exhaustion and a little bit of hysteria.

“Son of a—” Logan bit off the curse as he quickened his pace.

The sound of his boots on the grated floor echoed faintly, but he didn’t care about stealth anymore. He could feel the beast inside him clawing at the edges of his control, the primal part of him that wanted to tear through whatever or whoever had put Wade in this situation. The scent was nearly overwhelming now, and as he rounded another corner, the sight before him stopped him cold.

There was Wade, suspended in the middle of the room by a series of chains and straps. His suit was torn to shreds, revealing patches of raw, bloodied skin that glistened under the harsh, flickering lights. A grotesque contraption of blades and gears hovered dangerously close to his body, clearly designed to inflict as much pain as possible without delivering a killing blow. Not that Wade would die, of course. That was the point, wasn’t it? Keep him alive. Make him suffer.

And yet, despite the carnage, Wade’s maskless face split into a wide, bloody grin the moment he saw Logan.

“Logie-bear!” Wade called out, his voice hoarse but still infuriatingly cheerful. He waved weakly, his hand slick with blood. “You found me! Took you long enough, you big, hairy softie.”

Logan’s growl was low and guttural, his claws snapping out with a metallic snikt as his gaze swept over the room. His chest heaved with barely contained rage, the feral side of him threatening to take over. He took one step closer, his amber eyes locked on Wade.

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” Logan snarled.

“And you’re a goddamn knight in shining adamantium,” Wade shot back, coughing slightly but still managing to sound insufferable. “Now, how about you get me down from here before I lose more blood? Not that I’m complaining—I mean, it’s great for weight loss, but—”

“Shut up, Wilson,” Logan snapped, but his claws were already slicing through the chains holding Wade. He caught the mercenary as he fell, holding him awkwardly but securely.

“Aw, you do care,” Wade muttered, resting his head against Logan’s shoulder.

Logan didn’t respond. He was too busy glaring at the room, silently daring anything—or anyone—to try stopping them. The beast inside him wasn’t done yet, but for now, it could wait. First, he needed to get Wade out of here. Then, he’d deal with the bastard responsible for this.

“Let’s go,” Logan growled, carrying Wade toward the exit.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Wade murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion but still managing to be as annoying as ever.

Logan sighed. “I should’ve left you in the chair.”

[witchezandwonderz]

The Northman and the Noble

Summary: Ivar meets a Saxon woman, and things escalate very quickly. Request: Can you make no19 with Ivar 🥰 "You’re a great swordsman, but I’ve seen better charm from a rock." Word Count: 2.6k @leftoverp1zza @somebody6468 @cheesesandwichsanto Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

Masterlist

Ivar adjusted his crutch with practiced ease, attempting to ignore the ache in his arms as he crossed the Saxon king’s hall. Though the attendees greeted him with forced smiles, their eyes betrayed their unease. Fear was something Ivar recognised easily; he’d seen it in the faces of his enemies for as long as he could remember.

He loves the way it tastes, but hates it all the same. Like most of his own emotions- he could not fathom why he felt things so differently and deeply.

He stood, wondering how he had ended up here. In an odd attempt to reach a ‘peaceful’ alliance, the king had offered for him and his men to stay there for a short while. He did not trust this.

The Saxon king’s voice droned on as he introduced the gathered nobles, speaking of alliances, truces, and terms that Ivar only half-listened to. He had become quite good at speaking the Saxon’s language- but that did not mean he wished to listen to all that they said. These men, cloaked in fine wool and adorned with gold, perched on their seats uncomfortably- suspicious, silent, waiting to see if the delicate peace would hold. Ivar gave a sharp grin. It wouldn’t.

Then she stepped into the hall.

She wasn’t introduced at first, just a figure moving through the crowd with the ease of someone who had grown up among kings and courtiers. Her gown was deep green, trimmed with golden embroidery, and her dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. She carried herself with an elegance that made the other women in the hall seem like pale imitations.

Women did not catch Ivar’s attention often- especially women of Wessex.

But, she and her presence caught his attention.

As she walked through the hall, all attendees stood as a way of showing respect to her importance. She did not look at any of them though, she did not care. Her gaze stayed firmly in front of her. When she neared the front, she allowed her eyes to flicker to the left, and looked straight at Ivar, who stood watching her with a smirk on his face.

“Ivar.” The King Aethelred beamed, through a smile which Ivar thought was most definitely a facade. “This is my daughter, Y/N.”

The kings daughter gave Ivar a curt nod, and a small smile, before politely curtsying before him. Ivar watched as her body swiftly moved downwards, and then back up. He did not understand the odd formalities of these people.

"It is a pleasure to meet you" She smiled sweetly, but Ivar detected the sarcasm within her tone.

Ivar returned her nod, but found himself struggling for words on how to greet her. His embarrassment grew as he felt the stares of everyone watching.

“The pleasure is mine, my lady?” He finally spoke, not knowing how to greet her.

She giggled slightly, not being able to hide her amusement. She thought he was very handsome indeed.

“Please everyone, be seated, let us feast.” The king bellowed happily. “Ivar, come and sit with us, we can get to know each other more.”

Ivar was not usually one for small talk and false intentions, but knowing that he would be sitting with this curious girl, meant that he could at least try.

He moved toward the table, his steps deliberate and confident, the tap of his crutch against the stone floor echoing in the hall. The king’s daughter, Y/N, was already seated, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She didn’t spare him another glance until he lowered himself into the seat across from her. Only then did her gaze rise to meet his, her lips curved into a slight smile.

“I hear you are quite the warrior,” she said, her voice low enough that only he could hear. She tilted her head, watching him closely as if testing how he might respond.

Ivar leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on the arms as he studied her in return. “I suppose you’ve heard many things about me, Lady Y/N. Do they not also say I am a monster?” He wiggled his fingers in animated fashion, laughing and throwing a piece of meat into his mouth.

Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Oh, I’ve heard that too. But I am just a woman after all, and we are taught to fear all north men" She spoke softly, amusement laced throughout her words and then raised her cup of wine, as if to cheers the air, before finishing the ruminants.

Her answer caught him off guard, and for a moment, he was at a loss. Most people either cowered before him or pretended to ignore him entirely. She was different—fearless in a way that didn’t feel like arrogance. It seemed as though she was also tired of peoples perceptions.

Before he could respond, the king, seated at the head of the table, raised his goblet to address the gathering.

“To new alliances,” Aethelred proclaimed. “May we find peace between our people and build a future free of bloodshed.”

The attendees murmured their agreement, though Ivar could feel the hesitation in their voices. He smirked, raising his own goblet in a mock toast. “To peace,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm and his grin wide.

Y/N’s eyes flickered with amusement, though she said nothing, choosing instead to fill her cup up with more wine. While everybody that surrounded them began their conversations, Ivar leaned towards her, his chin resting on his hand.

"Your father's words amuse you?" He inquired, searching for her eye contact.

Y/N let out a small laugh, "Often." She stated, once again sipping her drink. "You really expect me to believe that you want peace?" She set her cup down, and mimicked Ivar's actions, leaning closer towards him. Ivar watched her, not knowing how to respond. He instead let out a dry chuckle, and turned his attentions to the man perched awkwardly next to him.

As the meal went on, Ivar found his attention drawn to her again and again. She spoke little, but when she did, it was with a quiet confidence that made the other women at the table seem dull by comparison. She laughed freely, unbothered by the tension in the air, and once or twice, he caught her glancing at him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Towards the end of the meal, Ivar turned his attentions to her once again, "you are not what I expected." He stated.

Her smile didn’t waver, but something shifted in her gaze, “appearances can be deceiving, can they not?”

Ivar tilted his head, "I suppose so." He looked around to ensure that no one was listening, for if they were, he would be embarrassed, "is my appearance deceiving?"

Y/N let out a small giggle, not expecting the question. She thought for a moment, admittedly making her thinking time last longer in the attempts to put him on edge, slightly.

She leaned closer, her voice a low murmur meant only for him. “Your appearance?” she echoed, tilting her head slightly. “No, if anything, it’s too honest.”

Ivar’s brow furrowed, his lips curving into a faint smirk as he searched her face for the meaning behind her words. “What does that mean?"

Her gaze flicked over him, deliberate and slow. “That you are exactly as you seem. Strong. Unrelenting. Dangerous.” She paused, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “And too aware of how striking you are.”

The smirk on Ivar’s face grew wider, though there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He definitely was not accustomed to such directness, especially not from a woman. His cheeks flushed slightly. “Striking, you say?” he drawled, his tone laced with amusement. “And here I thought the Saxons found us northmen crude and barbaric.”

Y/N shrugged lightly, lifting her goblet and swirling the wine within. “Saxon men say that, yes.” She sipped her wine, her eyes never leaving his. "But we are not all the same."

Ivar leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table as he studied her. “And the men of your court? Are they not striking?”

Her smile widened, a flicker of mischief in her expression. “They try, bless them. But no, they are not. They’re too… polished. Polite.” Her hand raised to his cheek, where a scar sat, and her fingers gently traced it. "There’s something to be said for a man who doesn’t hide his battle scars, especially a man who has no use of his legs.”

Ivar’s chest swelled slightly at her words, though he quickly masked his reaction with a dry chuckle. “And here I thought Saxon women only cared for silk and gold,” he remarked, his tone light but his gaze sharp. She had not an idea of just how much her words meant to him- he had spent his whole life feeling less of a man because of his differences.

Removing her hand from his cheek, Y/N looked back into his eyes. “Silk and gold have their place. But they don’t inspire stories. They don’t linger in the mind long after the banquet is over.”

“And I do?” Ivar asked, his voice dropping low as he met her gaze head on.

Her smile softened, and for a moment, her playful demeanor gave way to something more thoughtful. “Perhaps,” she said simply, her voice quiet. "But I do think that it is unlikely I will forget this interaction."

Ivar leaned back in his chair, his smirk returning as he watched her. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lady Y/N.”

She laughed softly, setting her goblet down with a quiet clink. “Am I?”

Before he could press her further, the king stood, signalling the end of the feast. Ivar rose reluctantly, his mind buzzing with questions about this enigmatic woman. He was not ready to leave the conversation yet.

As the hall emptied, Y/N lingered near the door. She glanced back at him, her expression unreadable, before slipping into the shadows of the corridor.

For the first time in years, Ivar felt something stir within him-something beyond the hunger for power or the thrill of battle. He had never understood his brothers strong attractions for women, but was now beginning to get an idea.

He watched her carefully- debating whether to follow or not.

Ivar hesitated, his fingers gripping the edge of the table as he watched Y/N vanish into the corridor. The decision to follow her felt both impulsive and ridiculous, yet he couldn’t ignore the pull she had on him.

With a sharp breath, and a quick curse, he adjusted his crutch and rose to his feet, looking around to see if anyone was watching him before making his way towards the corridor that she had disappeared into.

The corridor was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the stone walls. He moved with purpose, his steps quick despite the ache in his arms. He caught sight of her just as she turned a corner, her gown swaying with each step.

“Lady Y/N,” he called out, his voice low but commanding.

She paused, glancing over her shoulder with a raised brow, smirking as she did so.

“You followed,” she said, turning fully to face him. Her tone was not one of surprise, but rather amusement, as if she had expected nothing less.

Ivar stopped a few paces away, his sharp blue eyes locking onto hers. “You walked away without saying goodbye. Where I come from, that is considered rude.”

Her laughter was soft, echoing in the empty corridor. “And where I come from, following a lady into the shadows is considered… unkempt and quite bold."

He smirked, tilting his head as he studied her. “Even when I know that the lady wants to be followed?"

Y/N crossed her arms loosely, leaning against the cold stone wall. Ivar pressed one hand onto the wall, next to her head, leaning closer to her.

"And why would you think that?" She asked softly, her eyes flickering to his hand as he pressed closer.

“I suppose my charm was just too much." He grinned, half jesting and half serious.

She looked up at him, her smirk solidified. "Oh, Ivar, You’re a great swordsman, but I’ve seen better charm from a rock."

He leaned closer, the distance between them becoming smaller and smaller. "Is that so?" He whispered.

Before she could respond, his hand moved to her hair, threading his fingers through her dark locks with a surprising gentleness. Slowly, he pulled a strand to his lips, brushing it gently before letting it fall back against her shoulder.

Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with the quickening pace of her heart. His hand trailed from her hair to her jawline, as he traced it gently. She didn’t move, rooted in place by the way his piercing blue eyes bore into hers, filled with a hunger she hadn’t expected, but absolutely wanted nonetheless.

He leaned in further, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin just below her ear. His breath was warm, in turn making her shiver, a soft sound escaping her lips- half gasp, half moan.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, the words vibrating against her skin.

Y/N bit her lip, her head tilting slightly to the side, begging him to continue. His lips finally brushed against her neck, making her breath hitch and causing another quiet moan to escape her.

His hand slid from her jaw to the nape of her neck, holding her there.

He pressed a kiss just below her ear, his breath lingering against her exposed skin. Despite her slight embarrassment, she couldn’t suppress her obvious pleasure. Not being able to control herself any longer, her hands reached for the back of his neck, with a force that she hadn't intended, exposing her desperation. Without a second thought, she pulled him towards her, crashing her lips onto his in a hungry and desperate kiss.

Ivar suddenly broke the intimacy, using his force to pull her back by her hair and look into her eyes.

“Ivar…” she breathed, her voice shaky and unsteady.

The sound of his name on her lips seemed to ignite something in him. His mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of slow, deliberate kisses along her neck, each one drawing another soft moan from her. Her nails dug into his chest, and he smirked against her skin, clearly pleased by her reaction.

Her breath was ragged now, her body pressing against his as if seeking more, despite the unspoken tension in the air. His lips returned to just beneath her ear, his voice a low growl.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his breath warm against her skin, though his hands and mouth continued their exploration.

"No way in hell." She quickly responded, causing him to chuckle before reattaching himself to her neck.

She let her head fall back against the wall, her eyes closing as another moan escaped her lips.

A loud crash rang out from up the hall, causing both of them to tear away from one another. She stood, panicked, her lips swollen, and her cheeks a deep shade of crimson. Her hair, now messy from the events.

Y/N smoothed her dress, attempting to steady her breath and straighten her appearance.

The sound of footsteps grew closer, and Ivar instinctively shifted, positioning himself to block her partially from view. She placed a hand on his chest, steadying him, a silent plea for calm.

“We’ll continue this... conversation later,” he murmured, his tone promising and filled with intent. "I will see you again, won't I?"

Y/N’s lips quirked into a subtle smirk, her gaze meeting his once again. She leaned up, planting one last lingering kiss.

"Ivar, when I claim something as mine, I do not let it go. I hope you know what I mean by that." She stated, a sweet smile on her face, but determination in her eyes.

Ivar listened to her words carefully, pleased by them. He thought that he was a possessive person, but the passion laced within her tone told him that he may have met his match.

"Y/N, regardless of what happens between us and the Saxons, you must understand that when I claim something as mine, no one takes it from me, or they pay a price."

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

Likes, reblogs and comments are unbelievably appreciated. TLK fandom, I have not forgotten you! My next two fic's are Sigtryggr x reader and Finan x reader <3