#I’ve got Ravenous Instincts to do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madaqueue · 6 months ago

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eternally, yours

chapter 2 | protection

synopsis: 'forever' is a peculiar concept - how can something persist, unchanged, throughout time? when our bodies halt their aging, do our minds continue to evolve? do our hearts? choso was comfortable with his version of forever, one of solitary loneliness; that is, until he meets you. forced to confront the harsh realities of being human, the fragility of life, his definition of 'forever' changes as he stares down the barrel of eternity.

pairing: vampire!choso kamo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au. fluff. language, alcohol consumption, brief stalking/catcalling, mentions of blood. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.8k

a/n: the gang (me) craving domesticity? it's more likely than you think!

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“Wake uppppp!” a giddy scream echoes across your bedroom as you suddenly jolt awake to a tiny body careening towards you. Megumi’s dark hair tickles your face as he leaps onto you, cushioned by thick blankets, their warmth suddenly ripped from you as he tears them down in an attempt to alert you.

“I’m up, I’m up!” you scream through a laugh as you hold him away from you, cautiously avoiding his injured shoulder still held in place with the dark-blue sling from the prior week’s hospital visit.

Megumi giggles above you, his dimpled cheeks gleaming down at you as he tugs at your hand, pulling you from bed. “I wanna go to the park, pleeeeeease?” he begs.

Ruffling his hair, eyes glancing over the scar digging across his forehead, you jokingly groan. “Okay, but just for a few hours, alright buddy? I’ve got plans tonight, remember?”

His toothy grin widens, an adorable high-pitched squeal of excitement leaving his throat as he hurriedly runs from your room to get ready, a chant of “Yay, yay, yay!” echoing down the hallway.

Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you are perpetually stunned by your brother’s energy, his unending optimism. In spite of his injuries, both visible and invisible, he opens his heart every single day.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

In the heat of the summer sun, you watch Megumi run and play with other kids, a childlike innocence as he leaps across the sand, giggles spilling from the playground. Cicadas chirp in the trees surrounding the bench you currently sit on, hidden under the shade of the overlaying foliage.

Running up to you, breathless, your younger brother manages a choked, “Can I stay a little longer?”

Rummaging through your bag, you toss him the water bottle you packed, his small hands grabbing it and ravenously chugging in insatiable gulps. Shaking your head, you apologetically stand to leave. “You know we can’t, big guy, I’m sorry.”

Despite the water already dribbling down his chin, he smiles, accepting your judgement. “Okay,” he grins. Grabbing your hand, his sweaty fingers intertwining with your own, he walks home next to you, the bounce in his step never wavering.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

As night settles, the hum of chatter fills your ears as you sway in place along the outskirts of the bar, surrounded by your friends. Condensation from your drink dampens the palm of your hand. Despite the high-energy buzz of their conversation, all you can focus on is Megumi.

Is he okay? Should you have left him at home?

“Hey!” one of your friends calls out. “It’s so good to see you!”

A weak smile graces your lips as you nod, a chorus of cheers joining in. “I can’t believe you came out tonight!” “It’s been forever!” “We missed you!”

Has it really been that long? Thinking back as you sip your drink, how long had it been? months? a year? since you allowed yourself to let go like this, to be with your friends, to just sink into the moment; until tonight, you had been too preoccupied taking care of Megumi.

And you still couldn’t even do that right. The thought nags in the back of your mind, guilt settling in your stomach, before a full shot glass is shoved into your hand by one of your friends. Excited yells erupt as you knock it back instinctively, hands suddenly tugging you onto the dance floor.

The music pulses through your body, hips swinging as you chant the lyrics to whatever songs the DJ decided to play. Foggy lights surround you, bright and alluring, pulling you further into the moment. Your body feels light as you hug your friends, pure and innocent bliss shared through your laughs.

When it finally comes time to leave, you part ways with your group, cheers roaring through them as you walk alone down the street towards your apartment, knowing it was too far to walk to your father’s home and too late to call a taxi.

It’s only a few blocks, you try to reassure yourself as the streetlight above you flickers.

Suddenly, footsteps are heard behind you.

It’s no big deal, people walk this way all the time. They’re probably just heading home, same as me.

When the footsteps pick up speed, your heart begins to race in your chest.

Shit.

“Hey sweetheart, wait up,” an unfamiliar voice calls from behind you, sneering in false sincerity at the nickname.

Shit, shit, shit.

Picking up your pace, you desperately try to maintain any distance with the stranger, your mind scrambling in panic. You can’t outrun him, you couldn’t physically beat him in a fight if it came down to it, what are you supposed to do? Just as tears threaten to spill over your lashes in fear, you see someone ahead of you on the street.

A man stands waiting at the bus stop, eyes downturned towards his phone that softly illuminates his face, a gym bag slung over his shoulder. Something about him sends an immediate wave of comfort over you, just enough to think of a semi-logical plan.

“There you are, babe!” you proclaim loudly, hopefully audible to the threatening stranger behind you. Walking confidently up to the somehow more intrinsically trustworthy man ahead of you, you toss your arms around his neck and grab him in a hug, something about his body familiar to you in a deep, indescribable way. “Please, just go with it,” you whisper into his ear.

Initially his body tenses, but as he feels your desperation through the tight grasp you have on him, he relaxes. “Do you need help?” he whispers into your neck.

“Hey, bitch, I’m talking to you!” calls the stranger behind you threateningly.

Nodding desperately, the scent of his cologne finally enters your senses, a spicy warmth tingling your mind as you search for where you recognize it from.

“Then we better make this believable,” he murmurs into you, his voice shockingly deep.

As he pulls you slightly away from him, your eyes finally scan his face as realization sets in - the black eyes, distinctive tattoo, dark hair pulled up - he was unmistakable, the man who had so caringly treated your brother when you were in the emergency room.

Before you can respond he’s leaning forward, his lips pressing against yours. Your eyes flutter closed instinctively as you push yourself into him, his hands finding their place on your lower back as he pulls you closer. Despite the cold of the night air his lips are warm, a soft tenderness to them as they part, allowing your tongue to enter his mouth as the kiss deepens.

Unbeknownst to you, Choso’s gaze remains fixed on the predator behind you, shooting daggers through him as the man scoffs. “Fuck you, whore,” he yells before turning around and disappearing into the night.

A wave of relief crashes over you as his footsteps retreat; yet, Choso doesn’t pull away, his lips lingering for a moment before you finally separate.

“Thanks,” you breathe out, heart still pounding despite the fear that no longer remains in you.

A smirk graces Choso’s features as he looks down at you, his eyes low. “Any time,” he purrs, the richness of his voice making you shiver.

As a moment of silence passes, you realize you’re just staring at him, suddenly processing the encounter. “S-sorry for kissing you,” you stammer, stepping away from him to create space.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he responds.

“I…I know you,” you think aloud. “You took care of my brother, Megumi, at the hospital?”

Pausing, Choso nods. Not that he needs to hesitate - he hadn’t been able to forget about you from the moment he saw you, finding himself standing outside the room you had been in, his feet holding him in the spot where you wrapped your arms around him that night. He hadn’t been able to focus on anything since then, thoughts constantly returning to you no matter what he tried. “I remember you,” he blurts out, hoping the confession isn’t too forthcoming.

Fortunately, a warm smile covers your face as you look up at him. “Dr. Kamo, right?”

He nods again. “But please, just call me Choso.”

“Okay, Choso,” you smile.

God, he thinks he could die right here just from hearing you say his name. The sweetness of your cadence makes his heart flutter as he pushes down a giddy grin.

“Well, thanks again, but I guess I should get home now,” you start to turn away from him, continuing your walk down the dim sidewalk.

Before you can get far, a hand reaches out and firmly grabs your wrist. You pause in your tracks, shocked by the raw strength of his grasp. “Wait,” he murmurs, releasing his grip as you turn to face him. “You can’t go by yourself - I mean, what if that guy shows up again? At least let me walk you home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I was just waiting for the bus, I’m really not doing anything more important than this.”

Warmth spreads over your body at his kindness, your head gently shaking as you agree.

A sigh of relief, so quiet you barely catch it, leaves his throat at your response. He can’t let you go, not when it’s so dangerous - who would be there to protect you?

Walking in place next to you, the few remaining blocks to your apartment are silent, but something about Choso’s presence puts you at ease, comfortable in the tranquility night brings. Finally reaching your apartment, Choso clears his throat as you turn the key to your door. “Well, I hope you have a good rest of your night, and I hope Megumi’s doing okay,” he speaks before moving to leave.

“Wait,” the word leaves your throat before you can catch it, now your turn to make the man pause in his steps. “I wouldn’t want you walking back to the bus stop all by yourself - after all, it could be dangerous,” you smirk. “Why don’t you just stay here for tonight?”

Joy bubbles in Choso’s chest, exuberant at your offer, but some part of his psyche, in the very back of his mind, screams don’t do this. He shouldn’t - he’s been forced to go to the blood bank an extra two times already since the night he met you, unable to clear his mind until his body was filled with the blood of others. Would he be able to restrain himself now, with you this close?

Swinging the door open, you prod in his silence. “C’mon, it’s late, and it’s dark, just come in Choso.”

Any remaining resolution crumbles as you say his name, a soft “Okay,” falling from his lips as he steps inside, “but I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“Deal,” you grin, flicking the lights on.

His eyes roam over the space, the gentle scent of vanilla hovering through your home. Something about it feels so warm, so unmistakably you.

Suddenly embarrassed at the state you left things in, only able to notice the pile of unwashed dishes in the sink and dirty clothes strewn across your couch, you instinctively push him further inside. “I’ll, uh, go grab some blankets,” you mutter, stepping around him and making your way to the bedroom, pushing piles of your own mess away as you move.

Kicking off his shoes, Choso’s mind races as he settles into your couch, clouded with you, you, you. His fingers gently trace his lips, remembering the way yours had been on them not long ago. He remembers their softness, the slight cherry taste in your mouth, how warm and perfect you felt in his grasp.

“Here,” you toss him a pillow and some blankets from your room, “let me know if it’s too cold or anything for you tonight, or if-”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he hums, voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight, Choso,” you smile before turning back into your room.

“Goodnight.”

Adjusting to form a makeshift bed in your living room, he tries to push down his recurrent thoughts of you, a futile effort. You felt so small in his hold, having to lean up to reach your lips to his, the way your fingertips grazed the back of his neck. The plush comforter above him wafts more of your sweet smell into the air, further intoxicating.

While he doesn’t need to sleep, he spends the hours of the night caught up in ideas of you, his palm resting over his face to cover the place where you kissed him, a feeling he vows to never forget.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

In the morning, his dream-like state is suddenly interrupted by the sound of clattering from the kitchen. Soft curses leave your lips as pans tumble through the cupboard, metallic clanking echoing through your apartment as they hit the ground.

Choso stirs from his place on the couch, rubbing his eyes to focus on you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you explain, a sheepish grin on your face.

The sweet smell of syrup suddenly hits him, eyes glancing over to the stove where a mass of pancakes has accumulated.

Walking across the room to stand next to him, you hand him a white mug, the dark fluid in it a stark contrast to the bright ceramic adorned with small, hand-painted flowers. “I didn’t know if you liked coffee, but I just figured I’d make it for you-” you babble.

“Thank you,” he cuts you off, a soft grin forming across his tired features. Lifting the mug to his lips he takes a sip, the warm liquid pouring down his throat.

You know it’s too hot to drink, yet Choso doesn’t seem to react - maybe he just likes hot coffee? Shrugging off the insecurity, simply grateful he accepted your show of affection, you return to your place in front of the stove.

The man rises, his muscles straining against his clothes as he stretches. Your eyes cover his body before you force yourself to pull your gaze away from his taught chest, biceps rippling under his skin-tight shirt. There was something nearly poetic about him, something ancient sculptors strove to capture mirrored in his form.

Still slightly drowsy from the respite of his dreams, he finds himself walking across the kitchen until he hits the counter, seating himself at one of the barstools.

“I hope you’re hungry,” you laugh softly as you fill a plate with pancakes, setting it in front of him. After a moment you flip a few onto your own, pulling the plate across the table to sit next to him.

Again, a comfortable silence falls upon you as you eat your breakfast. Something about having him here, in your home, his hair undone and body relaxed, feels natural, a routine you could see yourself slipping into.

Yet, next to you, Choso struggles to hold himself together. Why today, of all days, did you have to wear those shorts to bed? Moreover, why that t-shirt, one that so perfectly drapes the contours of your body? The domesticity, the familiarity, makes his heart ache for a comfort he can’t have, one he knows he doesn’t deserve.

But the way you kissed him, the way you formed to his body, felt like it was something you had shared for years. You had seen him, felt him, and still chose to be near him; would you still be with him if you knew it all, knew everything?

“Choso,” your voice pulls him from his mental cloud, “if you don’t like my cooking, you can just say so.”

Eyes widening, he finally focuses his gaze downward, observing the mass of flour and syrup beneath him. His fork had been absentmindedly cutting at the meal you served - one he, of course, didn’t have to eat - turning it to mush before your eyes. Guilt overtakes him, the fear of your hatred consuming him before a giggle echoes through the room.

“I’m just kidding, Cho,” you laugh, playfully punching his shoulder.

The nickname, a pleasantry he had never been afforded, fills his body with an impossible warmth. How had you managed to do this so easily, so effortlessly?

Turning his head, he finally focuses on you. “I’m sorry, i-it’s good,” he stutters.

Another laugh leaves your lips, the sound bright against the darkness of the early morning. “Y’know, if there’s a place with food you like better, you could just ask me on a date there.”

You weren’t sure what had come over you, a novel confidence brewing in you as you continued glancing at the man next to you. Some part of your heart was drawn to him, unable to let him leave, needing his approval of you, his desire.

You open your mouth to counter the offer as his silence settles, fearing you had overstepped an unspoken boundary between you, before his voice hits your ears. “Next week?” he asks, his voice low.

“Deal,” you smile at him.

A childlike grin tugs at his cheeks as he looks at you, disbelief fighting with adoration as his eyes cover your form. “Deal,” he repeats.

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mediocre-shark-tales · 6 days ago

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Singapore GP

Masterlist

It had only been a few days since my outburst after the Azerbaijan GP, but it felt like an eternity. The media was ravenous, tearing apart every word I’d said and dissecting it for all it was worth. Some outlets offered sympathy, sending condolences to my family and dismissing the biases against me. For a fleeting moment, it seemed like maybe—just maybe—things would finally start to shift in my favor.

But, as always, there were others. The kind who clung to outdated ideas and used my grief-fueled reaction as ammunition. A woman can’t handle the pressure of Formula 1, they claimed. She’s too emotional, too volatile, too fragile. Never mind that nearly every driver on the grid had snapped at the media at some point. Those moments were chalked up to “passion” or “fierce determination,” but mine? Mine was treated like a personal weakness—a reason to question my very right to be here.

The hypocrisy stung more than I wanted to admit. I thought about Max’s defense in the media pen, about the way Franco, Charles, and Lewis had all rallied around me afterward. Their support had meant the world, but it didn’t erase the sting of those words or the way they lingered in the paddock air, just waiting to suffocate me all over again.

I clenched my jaw as I scrolled through headlines that morning, each one angrier than the last. I wasn’t mad at myself for standing up or for revealing the truth about my mom—I knew she would’ve wanted me to fight for myself—but I was mad that this sport, the one I’d worked so hard to be a part of, could still be so ruthless. How many battles did I have to win off-track before people would focus on what I was doing on it?

I set my phone down with a sharp exhale, staring out the window of my hotel room. The next race was just days away, and I couldn’t afford to let the noise distract me. I needed to perform again—to show them all why I deserve this seat.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the quiet of my room. Startled, I crossed the floor quickly, not even bothering to check the peephole. When I swung the door open, I froze. Standing there was Franco, his usual easygoing smile in place, and beside him—looking more like he’d rather be anywhere else—was Lando.

Franco leaned casually against the doorframe, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. “Hermosa, you’ve been hiding away too long. Thought I’d come check on you,” he said lightly. Then he gestured toward Lando. “And I brought company.”

Lando shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he avoided my gaze for a moment before finally looking up, his expression uncertain. “Hi,” he said awkwardly, his voice quieter than I’d ever heard it.

I blinked, caught completely off guard. Of all people, Lando was the last person I expected to show up at my door. “Uh, hey,” I said hesitantly, my grip tightening slightly on the door handle. “What’s going on?”

Franco gave me a knowing look, his grin widening. “Don’t look at me. This one asked to come along.”

Lando shot him a glare but quickly turned back to me, clearing his throat. “Can we talk? I—uh—I owe you an apology.”

I raised an eyebrow, suspicion flickering in my chest. “You’re here to apologize?”

He nodded, his gaze earnest now. “Yeah. I’ve... I’ve been an ass. And I shouldn’t have been. Can we come in? Please?”

I hesitated, my instincts screaming to keep the door firmly shut. But then I glanced at Franco, whose encouraging nod gave me just enough of a push. With a reluctant sigh, I stepped aside, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Fine,” I said, crossing my arms as I closed the door behind them. “You’ve got five minutes. Make it count.”

Lando stepped into the room cautiously, his eyes darting around as if he were stepping into enemy territory. Franco, on the other hand, strolled in like he owned the place, dropping into the chair by the desk with an easy smile.

Lando hesitated in the middle of the room, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. So, uh...” He glanced at Franco, clearly hoping for a lifeline. When none came, he sighed, finally meeting my gaze. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. For... well, everything.”

I crossed my arms tighter over my chest, leaning against the wall. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Norris. What exactly are you sorry for?” My tone wasn’t harsh, but I wasn’t going to make this easy for him either.

Lando’s cheeks flushed, and he shifted on his feet, looking down for a moment before forcing himself to hold my gaze. “For believing the rumors. For judging you before I even knew you. For being a... jerk.”

Franco snorted from his spot, earning a glare from Lando. “That’s putting it mildly,” Franco muttered, his grin never faltering.

“Franco,” I warned, though I couldn’t help the small twitch of amusement that pulled at my lips. Turning my attention back to Lando, I raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Lando sighed, clearly uncomfortable but determined to get through this. “Look, I’m not proud of how I acted. I was an idiot. I listened to all the crap people were saying, and I let it cloud my judgment. I didn’t even give you a chance, and that’s on me.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. “But after what you said in Azerbaijan... and everything that came out... I realized how wrong I was.”

I stared at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. His expression was open, genuine, and there was a nervous energy about him that told me this wasn’t easy for him to admit. Still, I wasn’t ready to let him off the hook just yet.

“So, let me get this straight,” I said, my voice calm but sharp. “You only realized you were wrong because the truth came out? Not because you actually got to know me or thought for yourself?”

Lando flinched, and I could see the guilt flash in his eyes. “No, that’s not... I mean, maybe at first, yeah. But it’s not just that.” He took a deep breath, his hands clenching at his sides. “It’s... I realized I’ve been a hypocrite. People judged me when I first got into F1, you know? Said I didn’t deserve to be here, that I was just a spoiled kid who got lucky. I hated it. And yet, I turned around and did the same thing to you.”

His words hit a nerve, and I felt my stance soften slightly, though I kept my guard up. “So, what changed?” I asked quietly.

Lando hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I saw how strong you were. How you handled everything, even when the media was tearing you apart. I realized... I was wrong about you. And I hate that I contributed to making things harder for you. You didn’t deserve that.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of his words settling between us. I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the vulnerability in his expression. He wasn’t just saying this to save face—he meant it.

Franco, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. “You know, Hermosa, not everyone has the guts to admit when they’ve screwed up. Especially not this guy.” He gestured toward Lando with a smirk. “Maybe you should cut him a little slack.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “You’re not off the hook, Norris,” I said, my tone lighter now. “But... I appreciate the apology.”

Lando’s shoulders sagged in relief, and he gave me a small, grateful smile. “Thank you. I promise, I’ll do better. I want to make things right.”

I nodded, feeling a sense of closure I hadn’t expected. “Good. Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure Franco here never lets you live it down.”

Franco laughed, throwing an arm around Lando’s shoulders. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll keep him in line.”

As the tension in the room eased, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Maybe things wouldn’t change overnight, but this was a start. And for now, that was enough.

Franco stretched his arms behind his head, breaking the momentary silence with a loud sigh. “Well, now that we’ve handled all this heavy emotional stuff, how about we grab some food? I’m starving.” He patted his stomach for dramatic effect. “Plus, I’m pretty sure Lando owes us lunch after all that.”

Lando’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “What? How do I owe—”

“You just do,” Franco interrupted with a grin. “Consider it part of your apology tour.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at their antics. “Fine. But if you’re buying, Norris, we’re not going to settle for some cheap takeaway.”

“Of course not,” Franco added, already halfway out the door. “I’ve got my heart set on something fancy. Maybe a steakhouse.”

“Steakhouse?” Lando groaned, following us reluctantly. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

Franco threw an arm around his shoulders, steering him down the hallway. “Too late, mate. You’re stuck with us now.”

We ended up at a quaint little restaurant just outside the hotel. It wasn’t a steakhouse, but it had a cozy charm that none of us could resist. The smell of fresh bread and soup filled the air as we slid into a booth by the window.

Franco didn’t waste any time grabbing the menu and announcing, “Okay, I’m ordering at least three appetizers. Don’t judge me.”

“I’m definitely judging you,” I said, smirking as I grabbed my own menu.

Lando leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, a playful glint in his eye. “You can judge him all you want, but I’m judging you both for making me pay.”

“Oh, stop whining,” Franco shot back. “You’re the one trying to redeem yourself. This is part of the process.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at their bickering. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of normalcy, like I could just be myself without the weight of the rumors or the pressure of the media hanging over me.

As we waited for our food, Franco leaned in with a mischievous grin. “So, Hermosa, since we’re celebrating your P6, what’s the first thing you’re going to do with your newfound fame?”

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t win, Franco. It’s just P6.”

“Still better than my finish,” Franco said with a grin, pointing a finger at himself. “P8 feels like crumbs compared to what you pulled off. Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

Lando smirked, tossing a napkin at him. “Careful, Franco. Keep talking like that, and I might ‘accidentally’ forget my wallet.”

“Then I guess you’ll be washing dishes,” I quipped, earning a laugh from both of them.

For the next hour, the three of us talked and laughed like old friends. The heavy conversation from earlier felt like a distant memory, replaced by lighthearted jokes and stories. It wasn’t lost on me how much I needed this—a moment to just breathe, to forget about the noise and the chaos of the paddock, and to remember why I loved being here in the first place.

As we left the café, Franco threw an arm around my shoulders, his grin as wide as ever. “See? This is why you need me around, Hermosa. I make everything better—even if you did outdo me on track today.”

Lando shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” I said, laughing as we walked back toward the paddock. For the first time in days, I felt lighter, like maybe—just maybe—I was finally turning a corner.

The next day was media day for the Singapore GP, and Marcus had picked me up from the hotel. The drive to the track was quiet, save for the faint hum of the car’s engine. I stared out the window, watching the scenery blur past, but my mind was elsewhere.

I could already imagine the chaos waiting for me at the paddock—journalists with their microphones shoved forward, their voices louder and more relentless than ever. Some of them would be asking invasive questions, spinning my story to fit their own narratives. Others would act like they cared, offering empty condolences just to lure me into saying something headline-worthy.

And then there were the fans. Half of them were incredible—supportive, holding signs with messages of encouragement, and calling out words of solidarity. But the other half? They were the ones who believed the rumors, who thought I didn’t belong here, who shouted things I didn’t want to hear. The mixture of love and hatred was overwhelming, and it left me feeling pulled in every direction at once.

Marcus glanced over at me, his expression unreadable. “You okay?” he asked, breaking the silence.

I hesitated, not wanting to dump everything I was feeling onto him, but I nodded anyway. “Yeah. Just… thinking about what today’s going to be like.”

He didn’t press further, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Don’t let them get to you. You’ve got a job to do, and you’re damn good at it. That’s what matters.”

His words were kind, but they didn’t stop the knot in my stomach from tightening as we approached the track. The car rolled to a stop near the paddock entrance, and I could already hear the buzz of activity. The moment I stepped out, it hit me like a tidal wave.

Cameras flashed, voices shouted over one another, and I couldn’t even make out what was being said. It was a cacophony of opinions, questions, and judgments—some supportive, others downright cruel. I kept my head down, walking briskly as Marcus stayed close, acting as a barrier between me and the frenzy.

“Keep moving,” he murmured. “You don’t owe anyone anything right now.”

I nodded, focusing on my steps. But the weight of it all pressed down on me—the rumors, the expectations, the opinions of people who didn’t even know me. It was exhausting. Yet, somewhere in the chaos, I spotted a fan holding up a sign that read, “You’re stronger than the hate—keep fighting!”

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. It was a reminder that not everyone was against me, but the noise around it made it hard to hold onto that thought for long.

By the time we reached the safety of the garage, I felt like I’d run a marathon. Taking a deep breath, I tried to push it all aside. Today was about racing. That’s what mattered. I had to remind myself why I was here—why I fought so hard to stay.

After a quick debrief with Marcus, I made my way toward the press area, my steps steady but my heart beating just a little faster than I’d like. I knew the routine by now—smile, stay composed, and avoid giving too much away. Especially about my family.

The first round of interviews started with a smaller group of journalists. They fired off the usual questions: plans for FP1, my goals for the weekend, how I was handling the increased scrutiny. I kept my answers light but confident, redirecting whenever someone tried to veer too close to personal territory.

“Your performance in Azerbaijan was phenomenal,” one reporter said, their voice tinged with surprise, as if they hadn’t expected me to do well. “Do you think P6 is a sign of what’s to come?”

I smiled, holding back a sharp retort. “Absolutely. It felt great to show what I’m capable of. I’ve been working hard with my team, and we’re making steady progress. My focus is on consistency—building on each race and aiming higher every time.”

Another journalist chimed in, less subtle. “You’ve been in the headlines a lot lately, and not just for your racing. How are you dealing with the pressure, especially considering the personal challenges you’ve alluded to?”

I kept my smile in place, even as I felt the familiar pang in my chest. “Racing has always been my focus. It’s what I love, and it’s what I’m here to do. Pressure comes with the territory in Formula 1, and I’m learning to handle it like any other driver. At the end of the day, it’s about what happens on track.”

The questions kept coming, some more probing than others, but I managed to steer the conversation back to my racing. I highlighted my achievements—my steady climb through the junior categories, the challenges I’d overcome to earn my seat, and my determination to keep improving.

“I know I still have a lot to prove,” I said, meeting the gaze of the reporters. “But I’m not afraid of hard work. Every race is a chance to learn and grow, and that’s what I’m focusing on. I want to be a driver that earns respect on track, not just for what people say off it.”

One reporter pressed further, his tone almost condescending. “Do you think the recent attention is overshadowing your talent? Some might say it’s hard to separate the drama from the driver.”

I held his gaze, keeping my voice calm but firm. “I think my results speak for themselves. P6 in Baku, qualifying consistently in the top ten, and building strong relationships with my team—that’s what I care about. The rest? It’s just noise.”

By the time I moved on to the next group, I felt a mix of exhaustion and pride. I had kept my composure, redirecting every attempt to pry into my personal life back toward my career. It wasn’t easy, but I reminded myself why I was here.

As I finished the last interview of the day, I exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. I’d made it through without faltering, holding my head high even when they tried to bring me down. And in the back of my mind, I knew that this, too, was part of the fight—to prove that I belonged here, not just as a driver, but as a force to be reckoned with.

#x reader #f1 angst #driver!reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #oscar piastri #lando norris #franco colapinto #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz #george russell #grill the grid #f1 grid x reader

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merakiui · 6 hours ago

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The way Ernesto has been rotting my brain since the event ended needs to be studied cuz I’ve been thinking of sleezy Ernesto tricking you into being a new hole for a glory wall he’s got going on to make a quick buck since those rowdy boys never say no to a perfectly good set of wet holes available to fuck and use as a cum dump

AAAA FREE USE HOLE!!!!! OTL wondering what "important role" you're meant to play as it's presented to you as something grand. It's the mystery (and a helpful nudge from his UM) that leaves you stuck in the wall with your hole(s) facing the world..... orz hehe maybe Fellow decides to try you first just to break you in or to test how good of a hole you really are. After all, those snooty brats from that Night Raven College will want only the finest, so you'd better be a good hole for them, he's telling you while he fucks into your tight warmth.

You try to tell Fellow you're not so sure you can do this anymore, but it's difficult to get a word out when his cock is stretching you open. You almost don't want him to leave. You have no idea what any of those guys are like!! What if they're terrible? T^T but Fellow assures you it's all well and good. They won't do anything that goes against park rules and if they do... :) besides, you're the only one who could do this! He knows you're going to perform wonderfully.

Having to endure the afternoon getting stuffed by so many different guys.... cum drooling out of your abused hole(s), your voice hoarse from crying out in pain/pleasure and moaning so much. One of them was scoffing about how the others just don't know how to take care of things. Such brutes... another was going on about how he'd like to bring you back to his dorm so his dorm members can enjoy your company! Maybe you can just live there, he said with bright laughter. :D another guy was whistling about how sensitive you are. Sticking three fingers into your hole just to watch you flinch and tighten up out of instinct, giggling to himself over how cute you're being. Another drizzled some sort of sticky syrup over you and had a swell time licking you clean, his tongue flashing into your hole and curling in ways that were just right. Etc etc~

You lost track of how many cocks and fingers and tongues were spearing you open, but by the end of it you have to lean on Fellow for support, tacky from a day of sex. He's brushing your hair aside and cooing at you for a job well done, draping his blue coat over your shaky form. <3 now allow him to reward you for your excellent work.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: dubcon

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years ago

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Imagine being Ruggie sister who somehow got in to night raven as a student and everything progress on and them as a Ramshackle perfect due to them being a kind person like Tanjiro and strong yet but of a nerd liked Deku with a unique magic of growing plants

What's more she a home maker due to them living in the slums ( like meding clothes, cooking, fixing things as she can, using home remedies when sick and help their bother with the kids at home ) with Ruggie and too working hard to get out of there as they wanted to be a doctor

Let's say due to their genuine kindness Leona, Malleus, Idia, Jamal, Carter and Riddle have a unhealthy obsession crush with Ruggie sister who doesn't share the same romantic feeling and only sees them as a friend

Ruggie's Little Sister Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Perfectly built for Ramshackle, you happily take to it despite your brother’s insistence you stay next to him in Savvannaclaw. But you’ve never been one to listen to your big brother and you can definitely handle it. You probably fare better than the original in terms of dealing with Night Raven. Because you know how to sweet up boys with mean attitudes, maybe a little too well:

Leona Kingscholar

“Look herbivore, don’t try to boss me-”

“Who’re you calling herbivore!? I’m talking to you, about this lazy cat behavior!”

“Lazy cat-”

“(Y/n) please–”

“No Ruggie, you baby him far too much! I’m stepping in!”

He at first really hates you

Like really

You do all the things Ruggie does just not for him

In fact you make him do things that make him tired

It’s a pain

But for whatever reason he’s getting especially happy when you praise him

Only for you

He’s violent with anyone who comments on the work you have him doing

Its the only reason he keeps in your good graces and thats enough for him

“I’m proud of you, Leona! Now come I’ve cooked up some fillet mignon and it has your name on it!”

“It better. I’m never doing my own laundry again.”

“Hahaha yes you will.”

Ruggie is nervous about this but appreciates you picking up the slack

It sometimes bothers him how much time his employer starts spending with you

But he’s not too worried Leona understands his desire to protect you

“Huh?! You got him to do that?! What should I expect, you are my little sister.”

“Don’t act like I’m not the cooler one of us two.”

Malleus Draconia

“Ah horn-dude, I was just looking for you.”

“Horn-dude? And you were looking for me?”

“Yeah I was thinking of adding some gardenias, and maybe some vines for decoration. I wanted your opinion since you like coming by here so often.”

“The vines would pertain to a more beautifully abandoned image…but that might just be my preference.”

“Oh thanks so much, Horns!”

His crush is so obvious

Talking about you often to his guards and mentor

And whenever anyone goes to talk to him he finds some odd way to incorporate you into the conversation

Trust me its weird for everyone when he starts talking about you during potions when their dissecting magical creatures

he can’t stop trying to talk to you

But he usually ends up just staring at you from the distance

Waiting until your instincts pick up on his presence

And your forced to invite him to join whatever your doing

“Ah! Horns didn’t see you over there! Do you want in? We’re making paper flowers for the festival want to join?”

“I would love to!”

“What?! Horns?! (Y/n) why are you lettinghimjoin giving him more paper!? I know what I’m doing!”

“Sure you do.”

Ruggie’s scared out of his mind

How did you get mixed up with this overpowered monster

He can’t do too much now without knowing he’s going to die

But if it means saving you from certain doom aka Malleus Draconia it might be worth it

Idia Shroud

“Alright that’s enough!”

“W-what?!”

“No more games before you finish cleaning your room! Ortho and I can help but–”

“Actually (Y/n)-san, I recently pulled up a study that states letting children clean their own rules helps instill better habits when their adults!”

“Ortho!?”

“Oh great idea! Well we’ll be just outside! Come on Ortho let’s plan out our cosplay!”

“Yes!”

“G-guys?!”

He hates that you mother him

But he absolutely loves it when you mother him

He cries about being in the dreaded friendzone kidzone

But boy does he love the way you pat his head or let him cuddle into your chest

He loves the food you make during marathons

Or how you’ll let yourself be distracted by the games you really like

He gets drastic if you spend too long out of his reach

So he sets up cameras+

So he takes any opportunity to speak with you

So he puts others in horrifying accidents

“Heeheh by the time I’m done you’ll be the best girl-gamer in the space. And then it’ll be a given for you to never leave the ultimate guy-gamer!”

“Ewww keep my sister out of your nerd schemes!”

“Eeep! An enemy has appeared!”

Ruggie thinks he’s a nerd with no game

But nonetheless he knows Idia’s smart but not street smart

“Hishishsishi can’t set the trap if you don’t have the button! Hardly even noticed me swiping his gadget.”

Jamil Viper

“I appreciate the help, (Y/n).”

“Of course, you’re always running yourself ragged…I wanted to do something for you.”

“...I really appreciate the lunches you’ve made for me…it’s been a while since I’ve eaten a meal by someone else.” “Well just give me a call I don’t mind cooking for you or lending a hand.”

He’s smitten nbyond comprehension

Now going out of his way to hypnotize anyone else into a corner when it comes to talking to you

Its the least he does out of retaliation

He knows all his flirting and hints go right over your head

But your still cute

Until you do get it he’s pulling the rug out from any and all competitors

“Hey (Y/n), why don’t you join me in the kitchen? Maybe, show me how you made those potato crisps?”

“Sure, Jamil I’d love to!”

“Ah ah! Not without me you’re not!”

Ruggie knows Jamil’s like him but smarter

Sly and sneaky

Powers aside Ruggie’s sure Jamil’s problematic for your safety

“Don’t think for a second, I’ll let you have them! I'm not that fond of snakes!”

Carter Diamond

“Wah~(Y/n) you’re so photogenic! Will you pose for me one more time?”

“Well alright. If it’ll make you happy.”

“It’ll make me more than happy!” He loves how oblivious you are

He absolutely hates it+

But your just so cute

He guesses he can forgive it

And hey while your learning the ropes he’s more than happy to keep you close

“Hey hey don’t forget to keep up our streak!”

“Streak?”

“Yeah we’ve been sharing our photos throughout the day of what we’re doing.”

“Yup! It’s a great way to keep track of her!”

“Ick-!”

Ruggie knows he’s slippery

When it comes to tailing him Cater’s good at giving the slip

“Not on my watch. I’m not giving you the chance, to trick my baby sister.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“That’s entirely unreasonable, I’m not doing that!”

“Grrr (Y/n) these are the rules I thought you would respect that.”

“And I thought you would know to relax!”

He thinks your sweet but totally unreasonable

So he guesses you both have something to learn from each other

You more than him obviously

While he doesn’t think highly of your brother he knows your different

And you belong to him

He’s not going to take ‘no’ for an answer

If this is a battle of wills he’d win it

Even if that means subjecting your bad influences to being beheaded

“Riddle! You can't just put that collar on my brother like that!”

“Yeah I’m not even apart of your dorm!”

“Don’t be mad at me for enforcing rules. I know you know the very least of the rules. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise that your brother just doesn’t measure up. Which means you should leave him before he drags you down.”

Ruggie is peeved that such a prick is after his sister

But he’s not worried

He’s definitely not cool enough to keep your attention

Not to mention he’s so easy to anger

It’ll be fun to rile him up

“Hishishishi so mad oh so fast! You’ll barely survive dating them if your this easy.”

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marvelobsessed134 · 1 year ago

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Smut of current Nikki sixx

The reader is his wife they are at dinner with Tommy Vince and their wives

Nikki can't keep his hands to himself pleasuring reader under the table with his fingers

As everyone is in conversation with each other Nikki and reader sneak off to the bathroom Nikki works his magic with his tongue and and bends reader over 🍆

Then walk of shame from the bathroom as Tommy and Vince start laughing and say you guys couldn't wait jump each others bones 🧡

Kinktober day 11: public sex

A/n: fuckin love Nikki it’s been awhile since I’ve written for him.

Pairings: Current!Nikki Sixx x Fem!Reader

Warnings: age gap, public sexual acts obvi, daddy kink because yes, Nikki is so damn horny for reader lol, dom!nikki, sub!reader, the other guys and wives poke fun at y’all, Tommy being Tommy and cheesy puns lol.

I’ve given up on summaries lol

You were sat at the dinner table after one of Mötleys shows for the world tour. Right now you’re in Mexico City, enjoying some good Mexican cuisine.

You felt Nikki’s hand trail up your leg towards your pussy and you froze for a minute, making sure everyone was distracted before you hissed, “What the hell are you doing?”

Your husband just laughed quietly and put a finger over his lips, silently telling you to be quiet. “Be a good girl for daddy ok?” He whispered in your ear causing you to shiver and goosebumps arise.

“O-ok.” You responded, and then Rain started talking to you. While yes, you are the youngest of the wives, you still get along great with them. So you tried your best to pay attention to your friends words when you felt the bassist move your panties out of the way and stick a finger into your tight hole.

“Mhmmm….yeah.” You said absentmindedly. Brittany chimed in, “Y/n? Girl, you ok?”

Your eyes widened when he rubbed his finger over your clit. That evil bastard he knows you can barely function when he does that.

“Oh-“ you cleared your throat, “I mean yeah I’m fine. I just don’t know if I’m gonna be able to eat anything my stomachs been upset.”

“Aw honey, do you feel like you’re gonna throw up?” Nikki asked with a facial expression telling you to say yes.

“Yeah. I think I should go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” You replied quickly and felt the older man’s finger slide out of you. You quickly got up and sped walked to the bathroom.

“Im gonna go check on her. Make sure she’s ok.” Your husband said before too got up and headed towards the bathroom.

“Dude…Nikki’s gonna get some!” Tommy cheered loudly and people looked at him with furrowed brows. Brittany smacked him on the arm, “No shit, don’t need to say it to the world. But yes they’re totally fucking.”

Nikki backed you up against the locked door of the singular restroom and unzipped your dress before tugging it down. Your breasts flopping out of the satin material.

“Fuck, I’m so lucky.” The bassist muttered before attaching his mouth to one of your nipples. You moaned and gasped as he nipped and bit the sensitive skin.

“Mmm, love these tits.” He muttered against you, switching sides to give the other side attention.

You threaded your fingers through his hair as you it relished in the feeling. “Fuck, daddy.”

His hand trailed back down to your clothed covered pussy and tugged your underwear down. His fingers inserted into you and you moaned. “Oh daddy, please!” You weren’t sure what you were begging for. “Yeah baby?” He teased, whispering right in your ear before nipping at your earlobe.

You sighed contently at that, “I want- I want your cock.”

“Oh yeah? You want daddys cock? I’ll give you my cock.” Nikki pulled his pants down enough so that his cock sprang out. He picked you up and you spread your legs instinctively. The raven haired man teased your entrance with his tip before inserting into you, feeling your walls clench around him.

“Holy fuck.” He breathed.

“Nikki- please move. Fuck me please.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart I will.” And he started bucking his hips into you. You moaned as he constantly hit your spot.

You clutched on his shoulders harder, nails digging into the material of his shirt. “Mmm…daddy oh my god.” You cried out as he went harder and faster.

“Quiet, we don’t want anyone out there knowing you’re being fucked like a slut now do we?” He covered your mouth as he said this and you nodded, eyes wide and watering.

Finally, you felt yourself get closer and closer to the edge before clenching around his cock your vision going white for a second as that beautifully overwhelming feeling shot through your whole body.

“Mmm- mph-“ your moans and cries were muffled by his hand, and soon enough you felt him shoot his load deep inside of you.

“Oh!” You breathed in relief.

Nikki planted a sweet kiss to your lips, “So good for me.”

The two of you got cleaned up and walked back to the table like nothing happened.

Of course, Tommy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Y/n, are you feeling better?”

Your face went red for a bit before saying, “Yeah. It was just a little stomach bug.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it hit you hard.”

Oh god, Tommy knew. And if Tommy knew, everyone knew.

“Yeah, and Nikki came right after you.” Vince chimed in and Rain kicked him under the table. “Vinnie, not appropriate. She’s clearly embarrassed that we all know they had sex in the bathroom.”

“Oh god.” You said as you buried your face in your hands. The bassist rubbed your back soothingly, “Alright we get it. Everyone knows we fucked. Now let’s eat and forget this never happened. Tommy, say something again and I will kick your ass.”

“Yes sir.” The drummer responded with a mocking salute making everyone laugh.

#motley crue #motley crue x reader #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #mick mars #fanfic #smut #dom nikki #current nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx smut #nikki sixx x reader #motley crue smut

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shiyorin · 5 months ago

Note

I just want to preface this request with the information that these are not two separate requests. I just wanted to give you some options to choose from so that you could choose the one that most interesting to you and seems like it would be fun to write about

Now my understanding is limited as I’ve only had the wiki as a source of information, but I tried to come up with some interesting ideas for these character with what I was working with. Because of what little I’ve read and seen of them they are great characters.

So there are two ideas, one for Thiel and one for Gavriel

So for the first one, Thiel. Thiel gets a lot of admonishments from his superiors for his way of doing things and it cause his self esteem to sink a little bit. So maybe a loving session with a female partner who lavishes him in praise is exactly what he needs.

Secondly, Gavriel. Now Gavriel isn’t very aware about the effect his body has on other people, as evidenced by him letting a female remebrancer into his room while scantily claded and not understanding why she was so flustered.

So maybe him interacting with a chapter serf or scribe who becomes increasingly red in the face due to his state of undress and with her explanation why she so flustered around him eventually culminating in sexy times.

#Aeonid Thiel x F!Reader

#Thiel is the best boy!

#PwP, NSFW, comfort sex because he need that, a little femdom!

#Again, I don't have summary.

Aeonid Thiel's chest rises and falls with labored breaths, his muscular frame tense from the rigors of today's battles. Through the dim chamber light, beads of sweat glisten across his physique. As his hardened eyes stare distantly at the ceiling, your petite form drapes atop him, your curves molding to the ridges of his torso.

You nuzzle your cheek against the warm, unyielding plates of his neck, your unruly locks spilling over his skin. Exhaling a stuttered sigh, Thiel relaxes almost imperceptibly under your soothing weight and gentle caresses. Your delicate fingers trace idle patterns along the grooved expanse of his chest, nails lightly raking across the scarred terrain.

Your hushed murmurs of praise intermingle with the ragged cadence of his breathing. "You are brave today, my sergeant..." You plant a reverent kiss against the column of his throat. "The Emperor himself would be honored by your nobility and valor."

A gruff rumble stirs deep in Thiel's broad chest as your words find their mark. Though his stoic exterior rarely falters, the validation from you holds unfathomable sway over his psyche and body. As if by instinct, his hips give an upward twitch, the thick ridge of his growing arousal grazing your inner thigh.

You let out the faintest moan, grinding yourself against the scorching hardness straining beneath the coarse material of his fatigues. With aching tenderness, your fingers trail down the ridged musculature of his abdomen towards the prodigious bulge, so immense it could likely stint your tiny wrists.

"You deserve more than that..." You coos against the fevered skin of his neck, your hot breath sending delicious shivers cascading down Thiel's body.

Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his trousers, you tug them lower with deliberation until his gargantuan cock springs free in all its pulsing glory. A pearlescent bead of pre-seed glistens at the slit of the flared head.

Unable to fully encircle the monstrous girth with your petite digits, you settle for skimming your palms over the searing hot length with featherlight caresses. Thiel can't stifle the guttural groan that wrenches itself from somewhere primal and untamed within his core.

"Shhh..." You murmur against Thiel's navel as he starts, a guttural groan rumbling through his chest. "That's my good boy. I've got you."

You engulf the first few inches in your hands, feeling the ravenous heat radiating from that titanic shaft. Slowly you begin pumping in languid, twisting strokes, coaxing more of that slick nectar from its woefully neglected depths.

Thiel's breath hitches, ribs swelling against your body as you glide along that slippery, pulsing flesh. Try as he might, his self-control is a corded sinew stretched far too taut...

With a strangled gasp, his hips stutter and that huge cock erupts in your pumping caresses. Thick ropes of viscous seed come gushing forth, scalding jets that paint your hands and arms with lurid stripes of cream. Spurt after spurt, Thiel's long-withheld climax crashes over him in thunderous waves of ecstasy.

Abruptly, you can feel him tense in a paroxysm of embarrassment, his face flushing as he recoils from the aftermath of his rapture.

"No no, my love." You soothe, slick palms cradling his cheeks. "This pleasure is yours to indulge, without shame..."

Trailing glistening fingers down his heaving torso, you gather more of the still-oozing pearls dribbling from his tip.

"You are doing your best..."

With those words, you smear the fresh offering of his essence across Thiel's lips, leaving them slick and glistening with his own spend.

"Breathe into it, take your rapture into yourself. That's it..." You said, watching his eyes flutter at the musky taste. "Good boy... now relax... and let everything for me."

#shiyorin's writer #shiyorin's answer #reader insert #warhammer 40k x reader #romantic stuff in 40k #nsfw.

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whererubbermeetstheroad · 7 months ago

Note

What are some of your First Year headcanons for TWST?

Ohmygod, I am sooooo sorry this took so long. It was way harder than I thought it would be to corral all my ideas together, but FINALLY, here it is. I hope this is good enough lol.

Hooooooo boy. The amount of brainrot I’ve had for these little guys is unreal, even during the times when I wasn’t that into TWST. But honestly, I don’t really have a whole lot to say — not that much of a “headcanons” person, myself. And a lot of what I do have to say has already been said in my fics. But I’m going to do my best here…

Ace Trappola

Because of the whole Book One fiasco, there are a lot of… things, let’s say, that Ace has absolutely fought tooth-and-nail to keep from his seniors; injuries sustained from stupid stunts, fights, bad grades, etc. It’s sort of like he’s doing whatever he can to avoid getting collared, despite knowing, logically, he probably isn’t going to.

Basically, Ace is the definition of a kid whose parents were strict, so he learned to be sneaky.

He’s actually a really snappy dresser, and not half-bad at doing makeup. He probably would’ve been in Pomefiore if it weren’t for his lackadaisical views on hard work. Meanwhile, while he’s not a strict person by any means, his stubborn, relentless attitude about his own twisted morals is what got him into Heartslabyul.

Out of all the upperclassmen, Ace feels the closest to Floyd… surprisingly. Jamil used to be a close second, but after the winter break fiasco, he’s since been replaced by Cater.

With Floyd, Ace can mostly chalk up the underwater museum incident to Yuu’s own meddling. With Jamil, it’s a little… less certain.

Before coming to Night Raven College, Ace’s nervous habit was to scratch the back of his head. After coming to Night Raven College, it was to rub the back of his neck.

Not really related to Ace, but I always headcanoned that his older brother was twisted from the Ringmaster from “Dumbo (1941)”.

Deuce Spade

Surprisingly, there are a lot of things Deuce also tries to hide from his upperclassmen. He hates himself everytime he does it, but it’s better than bothering them every time he loses his temper and they have to sign him out of the infirmary.

Deuce has scars on his knuckles from his delinquent days.

Deuce’s main job at an Unbirthday Party is to move the tables and chairs.

The Dark Mirror briefly considered Deuce for Savanaclaw due to his strength and his instinct to hit a problem until it got out of his way, but his self-imposed pressure to be an honor student landed him in Hearstlabyul instead.

Out of all the upperclassmen, Deuce feels the closest to Silver.

Having a mommy/daddy complex will do that to you.

He likes to put oyster sauce on his tarts now — not because he particularly likes the taste, but because it makes him feel warm inside. (Tell Ace, and you’re dead.)

Deuce is actually really good at croquet for some inexplicable reason.

Jack Howl

Whenever Jack needs to leave Savanaclaw outside of school hours, he just leaves without telling anybody.

At the beginning of the year, he used to actually scrawl a shitty note saying "I'm leaving" everytime he needed to leave, but rarely did people ever actually find it by the time he got back.

After everything that happened in Book 2 and Book 3, it's obvious to him that Ruggie and Leona really don't care enough, so he stopped leaving notes.

For the briefest of moments, Jack was considered for Heartslabyul by the Dark Mirror for his inflexible moral code. However, his steadfastness in the face of overwhelming odds landed him in Savanaclaw.

They grow nighthowlers in the Botanical Garden. They look exactly like blueberries. Not related to Jack (yet), but I thought it was important to mention.

Besides Vil, Jack feels the closest to Riddle in terms of upperclassmen.

He really does like Ruggie and Leona, but that’s… a lot to unpack, at best.

He and Epel regularly get into fights over whether pears or apples are better, even in situations where neither pears or apples are involved.

Professor Crewel, especially, is very exasperated with them.

For absolutely no real reason whatsoever, Jack has the entirety of the “Shaftlands’ Etiquette Manual for Youngsters (Ages 14—18)” memorized.

Not related to Jack, but I always headcanoned his young sister as being twisted off of Bolt from “Bolt (2008)” and his younger brother as being based off the Sheriff of Nottingham from “Robin Hood (1973)”.

Epel Felmier

Epel is a transgender male. Just wanted to get that out of the way.

Epel does actually like macarons — strawberry-flavored ones are his favorite.

Epel does still get into a lot of fights around school, but he’s gotten better at hiding the evidence. Employing a trick he learned from Vil, he hides the bulk of his injuries using his clothes and makeup.

More often than he’d like to admit, Epel accidentally refers to Vil and Rook as his “parents” in his essays. Luckily, Professor Trein still gives him full credit, and he doesn’t comment.

He does the same thing when he’s talking about them to the other freshmen. They don’t stop him because a) it’s sweet, and b) it’s funny.

Once, Epel vented to Riddle about Vil, and accidentally referred to him as his “Ma” the whole time. By the end of it, Riddle looked very, very, very concerned.

Out of all the upperclassmen, Epel feels the closest to Leona.

Epel had no chances of ending up in Savanaclaw, but with the Dark Mirror sensing great magical power emanating from him, he very nearly ended up in Diasomnia. However, because he hadn’t developed his ultra-mega-powerful Signature Spell yet, it ended up diverting him into Pomefiore. Sorry, bud.

Am I only saying this because Epel is actually twisted off of a magic object, unlike the other characters? Yes, yes I am.

Ortho Shroud

He’s twisted from Hercules, don’t freaking @ me.

Ortho has a few issues with looking into mirrors, especially since he looks so much like OG!Ortho.

Ortho has a few attachment issues, as a result of being an extrovert trapped in an introvert’s bubble for most of his life.

The first-years completely and absolutely baby him, no questions asked.

It’s so bad that even if Ortho is completely at fault for something, they’ll take his side anyway.

Honestly, as much as I love this little guy, I really don’t have much to say about him…

Sebek Zigvolt

Suffers from severe attachment issues, for about the same reason as Ortho — being “too much” emotionally, and surrounded by people who put in the emotional bare minimum.

Silver is kind of an exception, but he’s so stone-faced, it also kind of doesn’t make a difference.

Has definitely called Trey “Father” more often than he’d like to admit. Trey thinks it’s funny, meanwhile Sebek is just straight-up mortified everytime.

Out of all the freshmen, Sebek actually feels the least close to the upperclassmen. But if I had to say which one he feels the closest to, even if it wouldn’t be saying much at all, it would have to be Silver.

While Sebek’s favorite food is salmon carpaccio, his (closeted) second-favorite is his dad’s homemade yogurt.

Am I projecting? Yes. I love my dad, sue me.

Sebek was actually way more comfortable with his human side than he was with his fae side when he was a kid, but because Briar Valley, that didn’t last too long.

Back in Briar Valley, Silver could usually go out by himself and not be bothered—mostly because he was General Vanrouge’s son and Malleus’s sort-of brother. Sebek, unfortunately, did not have that luxury.

The Dark Mirror considered Sebek for Ignihyde because of his never-ending diligence when it came to protecting Malleus and the other people he cared about. However, once it became extremely obvious that Sebek didn’t know how to turn down the volume on his own phone, it put him in Diasomnia.

Honestly, though, I think Sebek and Ortho would’ve both been better off if he HAD been sorted into Ignihyde.

Not related to Sebek, but I headcanon his older brother as being based on Tick-Tock the Crocodile from “Peter Pan (1953)” and his older sister as being twisted from Louis from “The Princess and the Frog (2009)”.

Yes, I know Louis is technically an ALLIGATOR, but shhhh. Lemme have this.

If it makes you feel better, though, I also headcanon their father as being from Port o’Bliss (the same place Sam is from), so through the power of genetics, it kind of works out.

Okay, I think that’s everything. I considered adding Yuu in here, but then again, anything we know about Yuu is mostly headcanons, so I don’t think it counts lol.

Thank you SO MUCH for your patience, and I hope my headcanons didn’t bore you, I know they’re kind of mundane lol.

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atopvisenyashill · 4 months ago

Note

Hiiiii what are your theories on what post-resurrection Jon with be like?

So I AM curious if he’s gonna be a bit more animalistic. I went back to look at Varamyr and I feel like Varamyr is a weirdo but he doesn’t act like an animal, despite spending a lot of time as an animal. Now you can contrast this to some of the Starklings who will do shit like growl and howl and stuff, and Jojen in fact warns against staying an animal for too long.

“Bran the boy and Summer the wolf. You are two, then?"

"Two," he sighed, "and one." He hated Jojen when he got stupid like this. At Winterfell he wanted me to dream my wolf dreams, and now that I know how he's always calling me back.

"Remember that, Bran. Remember yourself, or the wolf will consume you. When you join, it is not enough to run and hunt and howl in Summer's skin."

But the thing is - it’s Rickon Bran and Arya doing that. Bran & Arya are barely old enough to be self aware and Rickon is a literal toddler (I think all the Starklings refer to him as “the baby” not as in “the youngest” but as in he is TINY still). Jon is sixteen. I do wonder if he adjusts better simply because he’s older. But to flip back again…Varamyr is our only reference and Jojen explicitly warns against it. So will Jon have a temper? Will he growl, go nonverbal when emotional, like Rickon does? Will he howl at the moon like Bran and Arya? Will other people find him unsettling? Not in the “why is this grown man acting like a wolf” way but in that way that actual wolves are unsettling….you know the stories about how you KNOW if you’ve seen a wolf because they’re fuck off huge, they LOOK like predators, and your instincts tell you “this thing can kill me” in a way they don’t when you see a regular dog? What if he’s just unnerving to be around?

I do wonder about his physical look as well. Every person who ~comes back from the dead~ still bares the scars they got while dying. Beric & LSH’s injuries seem to healing human slow - that is to say, if they hadn’t received killing blows, Cat’s vocal chords would be healing at about the rate we see LSH start to regain speech, and Beric’s various cuts are scarring & healing at a normal rate. Bran is paralyzed. Drogo is…all of that. Will he face some issues with his body because the wounds are still healing? Will he have some more stiffness in his limbs, like the way his burnt hand has problems? I don’t really know how he would pick up the red eyes and white hair from ghost - Beric, LSH, Bran, even Drogo, they don’t suddenly change eye or hair color or something, and Brynden was BORN albino it’s not like his magic made him that way later - but I’m ngl I still kind of hope he’ll have the red eyes, I think it’s neat. He doesn’t need white hair tho I think that’s overkill.

When it comes to his priorities, I think we're going to see a huge shift. I know everyone ragged on the show for just having Jon be like "yeah i'm peacing out bye" bc there's going to be more hubbub than that but I do think Jon is going to feel incredibly jaded when it comes to the Night's Watch. I always come back to his confrontation with Maester Aemon and the fact that Aemon is distressed by his choice to not attempt to help Elia and her babies...

Maester Aemon sighed. “Have you heard nothing I’ve told you, Jon? Do you think you are the first?” He shook his ancient head, a gesture weary beyond words. “Three times the gods saw fit to test my vows. Once when I was a boy, once in the fullness of my manhood, and once when I had grown old. By then my strength was fled, my eyes grown dim, yet that last choice was as cruel as the first. My ravens would bring the news from the south, words darker than their wings, the ruin of my House, the death of my kin, disgrace and desolation. What could I have done, old, blind, frail? I was helpless as a suckling babe, yet still it grieved me to sit forgotten as they cut down my brother’s poor grandson, and his son, and even the little children …” Jon was shocked to see the shine of tears in the old man’s eyes. ...“Once. So you see, Jon, I do know … and knowing, I will not tell you stay or go. You must make that choice yourself, and live with it all the rest of your days. As I have.” His voice fell to a whisper. “As I have …”

There’s nothing he could have done and he knows it. AND YET. How do you justify to yourself hiding out at the Wall in safety while children of your house are slaughtered? How do you make your peace with it? You can’t! Love is the death of duty!! Aemon doesn’t ever make peace with it! He spends the last days of his life hating himself for being so old, being unable to help Dany, reaching out for the brother he’s long lost in his dreams. I think being murdered by his men, after months of arguing with them, of trying to get them to put aside their shitty little beef with the wildlings and focus on the real threats to their safety, and the knowledge that “Arya” is ALIVE OUT THERE, it’s all going to massively change his priorities. When you factor in the girl in gray turning out to be Sansa (don’t boo me i’m right!!)…I don’t think he’s going to hem and haw about being a brother of the night’s watch, I think he’s taking his shit, and he’s getting the fuck out of dodge.

But when it comes to his state of mind…again, I’ve come around to the idea that Jon is going to be resurrected 100% due to Northern type magic, and not anything Melisandre is doing. I’m willing to be wrong on this one btw, I do think there’s still a shot some funky magic brings him back but I think with all the build up to Jon actively warging, to accepting his magic, and opening his third eye, is in fact building up not just to Jon spending a long time in Ghost while his body is found and resurrected, but that his body will HEAL while he’s not in it the way Bran’s does, and he comes back to an injured but on the mend body.

If he’s waiting around for his body to heal though, he’s going to be spending a hot minute inside Ghost & greenseeing. Possibly longer than Bran did. I think like Bran, he’ll have his own mini vision quest as he wanders and sleeps in ghost’s body - and I think he’s going to find out Bran is still alive. See, Bran figures out that Robb is dead through a green dream, then buries the memory-

The dream he'd had . . . the dream Summer had had . . . No, I mustn't think about that dream. He had not even told the Reeds, though Meera at least seemed to sense that something was wrong. If he never talked of it maybe he could forget he ever dreamed it, and then it wouldn't have happened and Robb and Grey Wind would still be . . .

And we know Summer is aware of his scattered siblings, dwelling on them often. I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that the connection works the other way. We also know Bran is still dwelling on his family, with his weirwood dreams focusing on Ned. Similar to Aemon, similar to Jon’s whole story, Bran struggles in balancing his love for his family with what he feels is his duty. Not only that but imo there’s a lot of connections between Jon and Bran when it comes to magic. Jon is the only character we see saying goodbye to Bran, which has always stuck out to me. Bran also attempts to open Jon’s third eye before Robb (presumably - i think if bran was talking to robb in his dream, he would have brought it up) Sansa, Arya, or Rickon (again, presumably).

It seemed to sprout from solid rock, its pale roots twisting up from a myriad of fissures and hairline cracks. The tree was slender compared to other weirwoods he had seen, no more than a sapling, yet it was growing as he watched, its limbs thickening as they reached for the sky. Wary, he circled the smooth white trunk until he came to the face. Red eyes looked at him. Fierce eyes they were, yet glad to see him. The weirwood had his brother's face. Had his brother always had three eyes?

Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow…. Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this. And the tree reached down and touched him.

And Bran has that near miss where he and Jon are in the same places at the same time, with Bran running into Sam & Gilly. Additionally, we get all those scenes with Mormont’s crow doing weird stuff and we have no idea if it’s Bloodraven or Bran - it’s very possible Bran At Some Point In Time has been trying to get Jon’s attention for a long time.

All of that to say I think there’s a build up to Jon and Bran being the first Starklings to reunite, but not in body, just in mind! While trapped in Ghost’s body greendreaming about his thought to be dead brother, Bran will have the opportunity to jumpstart Jon’s magic the way his was, and Jon will realize Bran is still alive - potentially even exchanging important information about the Others, Winterfell, and Jon’s real parents…Both boys return to their bodies, turn to the people they’ve sworn their lifetimes to and go “actually fuck this shit and fuck you too” and try to leave.

Try, being the operative word here, of course.

#i’m saying fuck it and putting this in the tag #valyrianscrolls #twow speculation #jon snow #bran stark #rani attempts meta #lawyering for bran #i had some meta partially written about how bran was leaving the cave and this gave me the kick in the ass i needed anon i put everything i #had here. i think bran is going to see jon was almost murdered they’re gonna talk about the others then he’s gonna wake up #and tell br exactly where he can shove it. i do not think this is gonna go over well!

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joyfulcowboycandy · 1 month ago

Text

Rules are meant to be broken

Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

❥ one shot

Content warning: implied abuse, angst

gender neutral Y/n

Riddle Rosehearts was no stranger to frustration. As the dorm leader of Heartslabyul, it was his duty to maintain order and ensure that every rule was followed to the letter. But there were days when it felt like the world was conspiring against him—days when no matter how often he repeated himself, no one seemed to listen. Today was one of those days.

He sighed, stepping into the quiet garden that lay just beyond the dorm. It was one of the few places where he could find peace amidst the chaos. The roses, neatly trimmed and blooming in vivid reds and whites, were a small comfort to his overwhelmed mind. Here, at least, everything was as it should be.

Or so he thought.

“Wow, this place really is something else,” came a voice from somewhere above him.

Riddle jumped, startled, his hand instinctively going to the magic pen tucked into his jacket. He scanned the garden quickly, looking for the source of the voice, his brows furrowing when he couldn’t spot anyone.

“Up here, red boy.”

He snapped his gaze upwards, only to find someone lounging in one of the tree branches, swinging their legs idly. Their uniform was different—nothing like the ones worn by students of Night Raven College or even those from Royal Sword Academy. The stranger grinned down at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“What are you doing up there? Who are you?!” Riddle demanded, straightening up, his posture stiff with authority. “And how did you even get in here?”

The stranger didn’t answer immediately, instead shifting to hang upside down from the branch, their hair falling towards the ground as they giggled softly. “Is that really the first thing you want to know? Not a hello? Not a ‘how are you’? You’ve got strange priorities, don’t you?”

Riddle’s face reddened in frustration. “This is serious! You’re trespassing—do you even know what kind of trouble you’re in?”

They finally flipped back up, sitting properly on the branch again. “Hmm… trouble, huh? I guess I’ve been in trouble before. But it’s more fun this way, don’t you think?”

His grip tightened around his magic pen. This person was toying with him. “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll have no choice but to report you to the Headmaster. I’ll even use my magic if necessary.”

“Ooooh, magic,” they teased, their voice lilting playfully. “Scary~.”

Riddle’s face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. How dare they not take him seriously? He was about to give another stern warning when they interrupted with a giggle.

“You’ll what? Turn me into stone? Or maybe a hedgehog, like in that one game? You’re really cute when you get all worked up, you know that?”

His face burned, this time from anger. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. “I’m warning you—”

“Fine, fine, I’ll go,” they said, raising their hands in mock surrender. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back. It’s way too fun teasing you, rule boy.”

Without another word, they slipped from the tree, landing gracefully on their feet before darting off towards the outer edges of the garden. Riddle stood there for a long moment, his heart racing with frustration and confusion. Who were they? And how did they manage to get into the academy without anyone noticing?

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the encounter. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter now. He had more important things to worry about than some random troublemaker. Still, their words—so irritating, so audacious—clung to his mind as he returned to his duties, irritation bubbling up again as he replayed the scene.

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

Days have passed since Riddle’s encounter with the strange person, and he’s finally been able to find a peace of mind in the Heartslabyul gardens.With its meticulously pruned roses and the perfect symmetry of the hedges, it was one of the few places where order and calm reigned supreme. For someone like Riddle, who lived by the rules, this place was a sanctuary—a world he could control.

Until now.

“Man! Isn’t it just gorgeous here?” A voice drifted down from above, interrupting his moment of peace.

Riddle frowned, searching for the source of the voice, already knowing who it was. When he glanced up, there they were, hovering several feet off the ground like a floating menace, arms crossed lazily as they looked around the garden in wonder.

“I mean, look at this place! It's so neat, so... perfect.” They gazed down at the rows of roses, smiling. “Totally different from everywhere else I’ve been. No chaos, no mess. It's kinda pretty, don't you think?”

Riddle’s eyebrow twitched. Pretty? He wasn’t here for idle chit-chat about the aesthetic of the garden. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice tight with authority as he folded his arms. “You’re trespassing—again.”

They waved him off, paying little attention to the tension in his voice. “Come on, rule boy, take a break. Enjoy the view! Seriously, you must have worked really hard to keep all this in order, huh?”

Riddle’s patience was rapidly wearing thin. He straightened up, puffing out his chest as he glared up at them. “That’s not the point. You shouldn’t be here, and you definitely shouldn’t be using magic in the middle of the garden! This is Night Raven College, not some playground for—"

“Shhhh.” They waved a hand dismissively, floating a little higher as they continued to gaze down at the pristine flowers. “You’re so serious. Why not enjoy what you’ve got? Most people aren’t blessed with all this fortune, y’know.”

“This isn’t a game!” Riddle snapped, his face growing redder by the second. “Do you even care about the rules? You’ve already broken several just by being here!”

They turned their head lazily toward him, then floated down slightly, just enough to hover at eye level with him. “Why would I care about rules when I’ve got wings?” they teased, giving a playful little flap of their arms. “Besides, your garden’s way too pretty for me to just stay away.”

Riddle let out a sharp breath, trying to steady his temper. “It’s not my garden. It belongs to Heartslabyul, and we have rules for a reason. You can’t just do as you please—”

“Can’t I?” They tilted their head, a playful smirk dancing on their lips. “You keep telling me what I can’t do, but I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You’re testing my patience,” he warned, his fingers tightening around the handle of his magic pen. “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll have no choice but to use my Magic on you. It’ll be Off with your head.”

“Ooooh, big scary magic.” They grinned, clearly not intimidated. “The whole ‘off with your head’ thing? Sounds kinda dramatic, don’t you think?”

His eyes flashed with anger, his frustration boiling over. “It’s not something to joke about! You’re violating the rules, and if you keep this up—”

“You’ll what?” They interrupted, their voice lilting with faux curiosity. “Turn me into a teapot? Shrink me down? Come on, give me something fun!”

Riddle’s face flushed with irritation. No one had ever spoken to him with such blatant disrespect. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say another word, they floated just a little higher, now hovering above him by a few inches, the gap making them taller than him. They gave him a teasing grin. “See? I’ve got the high ground now, rule boy. What are you gonna do?”

Riddle glared, his fingers twitching in his frustration. “Enough of this! You’re breaking so many rules that I could—"

“Off with my head, right?” They laughed, playfully flipping upside down in mid-air, dangling there with their hair falling toward the ground. “I’d love to see you try.”

It was too much. Riddle raised his pen, ready to summon his magic, his face hot with fury. “If you don’t leave this instant—”

But before he could finish, they darted away with a swift, mischievous laugh, their voice echoing through the garden as they zipped past him. “See you around, rule boy!” they called over their shoulder, giggling as they disappeared behind the hedges.

Riddle stood there, his magic uncast, eyes narrowed in disbelief. He’d been so close to using it—so close to giving them exactly what they deserved—but once again, they’d slipped away. His frustration burned hotter than ever, and he cursed under his breath, lowering his pen in defeat.

It was only then, as the wind settled and his thoughts cleared, that he recalled something odd. Just as they had flown past, the wind had lifted their sleeves, revealing something on their arms—dark, scattered marks. Bruises?

For a brief moment, a flicker of concern crossed his mind. Had they been hurt? He hadn’t noticed them before. Could it have been from something else? Maybe they were just a clumsy individual.

But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, it vanished. There was no time to worry about such things. They were a rulebreaker, a constant disturbance. Whatever trouble they were in wasn’t his concern—not right now. Besides, they clearly enjoyed their antics far too much to be bothered by something as trivial as that.

What a weird individual...

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

Riddle was having a particularly exhausting day. Between lecturing unruly first-years and preparing for the next dorm meeting, his patience was wearing thin. He decided to take a brief walk through the gardens—hoping, perhaps foolishly, for some quiet.

Of course, his peace didn’t last...

“Riddle! There’s someone flying again!”

Ace’s voice broke through the air, and before Riddle could respond, Deuce chimed in. “It’s that person! The one you keep yelling at!”

Riddle’s eyes narrowed as his gaze shot up to the sky, and there they were—That person, soaring lazily through the air, like always, ignoring all rules of decency. They weren’t even trying to be subtle about it, gliding in circles above the garden, hovering just out of reach as if daring him to say something.

“Great Seven…” Riddle groaned, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment creeping up his neck as Ace and Deuce snickered behind him. “Do they ever not fly?”

Ace smirked, elbowing Deuce. “You’d think they were here just to mess with Riddle, huh?”

Riddle spun around to face them, his face as red as his hair. “Quiet, both of you! Do not make this a spectacle.”

But they were already descending from the sky, making a slow, dramatic landing in front of him. They hovered just above the ground, not quite touching it, as if they enjoyed the idea of floating higher than him—yet again.

“Well, well, look who it is!” Their teasing grin widened as they spotted the other two, obviously amused. “I see you brought your little entourage today.”

Deuce blinked, clearly confused. “Are they a student?”

“Hardly,” Riddle muttered under his breath. “They’re a nuisance .”

Ace tilted his head, watching them float lazily around. “They don’t look like they’re from here. How are they even doing that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Riddle said tersely, his grip tightening on his magic pen. “What matters is that they’re breaking the rules. Again.”

They laughed, circling closer to him. “Oh, come on. You’re not really going to make a big deal out of this, are you? I’m just enjoying the view! The garden looks so much prettier from up here.”

Riddle’s patience snapped. He refused to be made a fool of in front of his underclassmen—especially not by this persistent troublemaker. Without waiting for any more taunts, he lifted his magic pen and muttered the incantation.

“Off with your head!”

Their eyes widened, but they were too slow to react. In an instant, Riddle’s magic took hold, making them fall down from their hovering position and a chain materialized around their neck. They fell with a thud, landing face-first on the grass and dirt.

Ace and Deuce both winced at the impact.

“Oof, that looked like it hurt,” Ace whispered.

Riddle, still fuming, quickly approached them, who was groaning as they tried to push themselves up. But before they could, Riddle pressed a knee firmly against their back, holding them down with ease.

“Ah! Let me go!” They cried out, slapping their hands against the ground in frustration.

Riddle ignored their complaints, his eyes sharp with authority. “You’ve been warned enough times. This is what happens when you break the rules.”

He heard a soft gasp from behind him—either Ace or Deuce, he wasn’t sure—but it wasn’t until he looked down that he understood why. Their sleeves had shifted, exposing dark bruises along their arms and legs. They hadn’t been this visible before, but now, with their uniform crumpled and the light catching on their skin, it was impossible to ignore.

For a moment, Riddle hesitated. The sight of the bruises startled him, his mind stumbling over itself as he tried to process what he was seeing.

“What…?” he mumbled, releasing his magic in surprise.

They wasted no time. The second his grip loosened, they wriggled out from under him and jumped to their feet, brushing dirt from their clothes and scowling. “Well, that was rude.”

Ace and Deuce exchanged confused glances, clearly unsure of what to make of the situation.

“They’re so small,” Deuce commented under his breath. “I thought they were taller?”

“It’s because they’re always flying,” Ace whispered back, scratching his head.

Riddle’s heart was pounding, but he quickly straightened himself, regaining his composure. He pointed at them, his voice colder than before. “You are never to return here. Do you understand? And you—” he turned to Ace and Deuce, fixing them with a stern glare, “are to say nothing about this. To anyone.”

Ace raised his hands defensively. “Hey, no problem. Your secret’s safe with us.”

Deuce nodded, though he still looked somewhat bewildered. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

They grinned, their teasing demeanor returning just as quickly as it had vanished. They dusted themselves off, unfazed by the attention or the fall. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell either.” They shot Riddle a cheeky smile. “After all, it wouldn’t be fun if the whole school knew about this .”

Riddle flushed again, both from anger and embarrassment. “Just leave already.”

With a final mocking salute, they spun on their heels and disappeared into the maze of hedges, their laughter trailing behind them like an echo in the garden.

Ace blinked. “So, uh… who exactly was that?”

Riddle straightened his uniform, avoiding their questioning looks. “No one. And don’t mention this to anyone. Not a word.”

Ace snickered. “Man, you really know how to pick your enemies, huh?”

Riddle didn’t respond. His mind was too preoccupied with what he had seen—the bruises. For a fleeting moment, concern had gripped him, but now, with them gone, it seemed almost insignificant again.

They were just bruises. They were probably fine. They always seemed fine.

He brushed it off as he began walking back toward the dorm, Ace and Deuce following behind him with hushed whispers.

But a small part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—he had missed something important.

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

Weeks passed since their last encounter, and Riddle wasn’t expecting to see them again. After he had finally subdued them in front of Ace and Deuce, surely they would think twice about showing up in Heartslabyul. But just as he started to believe he had seen the last of their antics, they returned—completely unannounced.

And of course, they made their entrance in the most obnoxious way possible.

Riddle had been sitting under the shade of the Heartslabyul garden’s rose bushes, taking a rare moment of respite from his duties. The afternoon was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves and the occasional flutter of wings from the garden’s creatures.

That is, until a sudden voice screeched right next to his ear.

“Boo!”

Riddle yelped in surprise, nearly leaping out of his seat as his heart pounded in his chest. “Great Seven!” he exclaimed, clutching his chest as he spun around to see them floating mid-air behind him, a mischievous grin plastered across their face.

They burst into laughter, doubling over while still hovering in the air. “Oh my—! I didn’t think you’d actually scream! That was priceless!” They wiped a tear from their eye as their laughter continued to echo through the garden.

Riddle’s face burned, both from the shock and from the embarrassment. He straightened up, fixing them with his best glare. “Do you find it amusing to terrorize me every time you show up?”

“Well, it is pretty entertaining!” They replied, still floating just above him. But as they shifted, Riddle noticed something he hadn’t seen before—a dark bruise marring their cheek, barely hidden by a lock of hair.

Riddle’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight. His previous annoyance ebbed, replaced by an uncomfortable concern. He glanced down and saw the same bruises along their legs, peeking out from the hem of their uniform as the wind tugged at the fabric.

He tried to keep his voice steady. “What happened to your face?”

They blinked, as if surprised by the question, but then they grinned again, lazily flipping over in the air until they were lying on their stomach, floating parallel to the ground. They rested their chin on their hands, staring at him with that same playful expression.

“Oh, this?” they said, pointing vaguely to their cheek. “Nothing worth mentioning. Just part of the fun.”

“That’s not an answer,” Riddle said, irritation creeping back into his voice. “You’re avoiding the question.”

They simply smirked. “I’m not avoiding anything. I’m just giving you the answer I want to give. Besides, it’s not like it’s your business.”

Riddle clenched his teeth, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “You can’t just keep showing up here, breaking the rules whenever you please. I’ve warned you before—this isn’t your playground.”

“And yet,” they said, flipping upside down so that they were staring at him from a completely inverted position, “I keep coming back.”

Their teasing tone grated on his nerves, but there was something else about the way they looked at him—something that made Riddle pause. He noticed how their playful smile faltered ever so slightly when they flipped upside down, their eyes locking with his. For a moment, they seemed less mischievous and more… tired.

But before he could say anything, they let out a small sigh, their arms dangling loosely as they floated closer to him, still upside down.

“I’m skipping school,” they said, finally answering his question in a completely nonchalant tone. “This place is more fun than there anyway.”

Riddle’s frown deepened. “You’re skipping school to come here? You can’t just—”

His words stopped short as their hand floated close to his face, almost brushing against his cheek. On instinct, Riddle reached out and caught their wrist, pulling their sleeve up slightly. What he saw underneath made him freeze.

Bruises. More than before. Dark, angry patches of discoloration, scattered across their forearm.

Their expression didn’t change as they floated there, upside down, watching him quietly. They didn’t pull away, didn’t laugh—just stared at him with an unreadable look on their face.

Riddle’s grip on their wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go completely. “You… you need to stop this,” he muttered, his voice softer than before. “You can’t keep running around causing trouble. If there’s something wrong, you need to—”

They interrupted him with a quiet giggle, their usual teasing smirk returning. “What are you, my caretaker now?”

“I’m being serious,” Riddle snapped, though his heart wasn’t in it. He let go of their wrist, watching as they hovered back slightly, floating just a few centimeters above the ground. “You’re breaking the rules here. You’re probably breaking the rules at your own school too. If you want to come here, ask for permission, like a normal person.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” They replied, their voice lilting playfully. “Besides, it’s way more entertaining to see you all flustered like this. You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Riddle’s face flushed at the comment, his composure slipping for just a moment. “I—That’s irrelevant!”

They giggled again, clearly enjoying his reaction. “See? This is why I keep coming back.”

Riddle huffed, crossing his arms. “You’re impossible.”

“Thank you,” they said with a wink.

There was a brief silence between them, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the wind. Riddle stared at them, their bruises still fresh in his mind, but they didn’t seem bothered by them. If anything, they acted as if nothing was wrong at all.

Finally, they sighed dramatically and floated backward, as if preparing to leave. “Well, I suppose I’ve bothered you enough for one day.”

Riddle hesitated, a strange feeling settling in his chest as they started to drift away. He wanted to say something—ask them why they kept coming back, why they looked the way they did—but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, he simply watched as they floated off, their teasing laughter echoing behind them.

“You’re such a troublemaker,” Riddle muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

But deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of worry as they disappeared into the distance.

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

Riddle wasn’t quite sure why he was waiting.

He knew, logically, that they were unpredictable. They showed up when they felt like it, played their games, and disappeared just as quickly. Weeks had passed again since their last encounter, and yet… a part of him couldn’t help but keep an eye on the skies, half-expecting their mischievous form to appear at any moment.

And, just as he’d predicted—though he would never admit to anticipating it—they returned.

This time, they appeared more quietly, their arrival marked only by the soft flapping of their clothes as they hovered into view. They didn’t scare him this time, no teasing “boo” or sudden surprises. Instead, they simply floated over to where he was standing in the garden, a lazy smile on their face.

“Miss me?” they teased, as they hovered slightly above him, legs crossed in midair.

Riddle, despite himself, felt a tiny smile tug at the corner of his lips. “I wasn’t expecting you, if that’s what you mean.”

“Liar,” They said, their grin widening. “I could see you glancing up at the sky earlier. It’s like you knew I’d be here.”

“I most certainly did not—” Riddle stopped himself, realizing that arguing was exactly what they wanted. Instead, he exhaled slowly, opting for a more measured tone. “What do you want this time?”

They hovered a little lower, their face now level with his, though they were still floating just above the ground. “Hmm, what do I want? Good question. Maybe I’m just here to enjoy your company.”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “Enjoy my company? Since when?”

“Oh, don’t act so surprised!” They said, letting out a playful laugh. “You’re fun when you’re all worked up, but you’re not half-bad when you’re calm, either.”

Riddle fought the urge to roll his eyes, though their words did make his heart stir slightly. For once, there wasn’t the immediate surge of irritation he usually felt when they teased him. Maybe it was because, despite their playful tone, something about their presence felt a little… softer today.

They drifted lazily through the air, landing on the edge of a nearby fountain and dipping their fingers into the water. Their expression was more relaxed than usual, and Riddle noticed a faint smile that didn’t feel entirely mischievous.

“I like this place,” They murmured, breaking the comfortable silence. “It’s so different from everywhere else. Everything’s so... proper. Kind of weird, but pretty in its own way.”

Riddle, still standing by the garden’s entrance, glanced around at his meticulously pruned roses and the neatly trimmed hedges. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride. “Heartslabyul follows strict rules to maintain its order. It’s why things are the way they are.”

They chuckled, flicking water from the fountain playfully in his direction. “Yeah, yeah, the rules and all that. You’ve told me a million times.”

“Perhaps you should start following some of them, then,” Riddle said dryly, though there was no malice in his tone this time.

They shrugged, swinging their legs casually as they sat on the fountain’s edge. “Nah. Breaking rules is half the fun of life. You should try it sometime.”

Riddle gave them a pointed look. “I’m the housewarden. I enforce the rules. Breaking them would be... hypocritical.”

They leaned forward, resting their chin in their hands and grinning up at him. “That’s exactly why it’d be fun. Imagine how shocked everyone would be if you did something unexpected for once.”

“I’m not here to entertain the masses,” Riddle replied, though he couldn’t help but be amused by the thought. He folded his arms, watching as they splashed the water idly. For the first time, they weren’t just teasing him to get a rise out of him. There was a lightness to their presence, something that felt... different.

“You don’t always have to be so serious, you know,” they said after a moment, their voice softening. “Sometimes you can just... let go.”

Riddle frowned slightly, but before he could respond, they turned to face him fully, standing up from the fountain and floating back into the air just above him.

Their teasing grin returned, though it didn’t have the sharp edge it usually did. “So, Housewarden Rosehearts... when’s the last time you broke a rule?”

Riddle blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” they said, crossing their arms as they hovered just a little higher, enough to be eye-level with him. “When’s the last time you did something that wasn’t in some rulebook?”

“That’s an absurd question,” Riddle said, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “I follow the rules for a reason.”

They hummed, looking unimpressed. “Well, maybe you should try not following them. Just for once.”

Before he could respond, they leaned in closer, their teasing grin returning. “Or are you afraid you’ll like it too much?”

Riddle’s face flushed, caught off-guard by their sudden proximity. “I—I don’t have time for such nonsense.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you don’t,” They said, clearly enjoying his reaction. But something about the way they were teasing him this time felt different—lighter, almost. As if, for once, they weren’t just trying to get a rise out of him but were actually having fun.

For the first time, Riddle didn’t feel entirely on edge around them. There was still that flicker of irritation, yes, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It didn’t overshadow the strange sense of ease that settled between them as they bantered back and forth.

“You know, for someone who’s always scolding me, you’re not so bad,” they said, their voice softer now. “You should smile more. It suits you.”

Riddle’s breath caught in his throat for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to respond, especially with the way they were looking at him—genuine, for once, without the usual sharpness in their gaze. It wasn’t often that they weren’t mocking him, and Riddle found himself... liking it.

Before he could think of something to say, they floated backward, spinning in the air and flashing him a playful grin. “But I should get going before you lecture me again.”

Riddle opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words didn’t come. He watched as they drifted up into the air, their laughter echoing softly as they waved him goodbye.

“See you around, Housewarden,” they called out, their voice teasing but not mocking.

Riddle stood there, watching them disappear into the distance, a strange mix of emotions swirling in his chest. He hadn’t yelled at them. They hadn’t frustrated him like usual. Instead... they’d talked. Almost normally.

And for the first time in a long while, their departure left him with a small, reluctant smile on his face.

𖧷₊˚˖𓍢ִ🍓✧˚.🎀༘⋆ﾟ＊

The garden felt strangely empty without them.

Riddle paced the familiar path, glancing at the pruned hedges and blooming flowers as if they could somehow summon their playful spirit back. He hadn’t seen them in weeks, and he found himself missing their teasing remarks and carefree laughter more than he cared to admit.

Then, as if the universe had listened to his silent yearning, he heard the soft fluttering of fabric against the wind. He looked up, his breath catching in his throat.

There they were.

But this time, they wasn’t floating above him with that familiar, mischievous grin. Instead, they stood firmly on the ground, their posture relaxed but somehow lacking the usual exuberance. Riddle felt his heart drop at the sight.

“Riddle!” they greeted, their voice bright, but he caught the slight tremor in it.

“You…” He found himself stepping closer, frowning at the sight before him. Their cheeks were paler than usual, and their clothes were slightly rumpled. But what made his heart sink were the bruises peeking from beneath their sleeves and the dark marks along their legs.

“Why are you standing on the ground?” Riddle asked, a teasing edge in his voice to mask the concern brewing within him. “You’re usually floating above me, making yourself taller.”

Their eyes widened, clearly taken aback. “What? You noticed?” Their surprise quickly shifted to a grin, as if they were delighted by his observation. “Wow, look at you! Switching things up, huh?”

Riddle felt the corners of his mouth twitch up, almost despite himself. “It’s not exactly a common occurrence. I thought you enjoyed being taller than me.”

They laughed softly, sitting down on the grass, the joy of their earlier antics dimming slightly. “Maybe I just like the challenge of getting you riled up,” they admitted, but their voice held a hint of something deeper, a vulnerability he hadn’t seen before.

As they sat together, the atmosphere shifted. Riddle felt a strange warmth growing in his chest, a sense of appreciation for their presence. He had grown fond of them—of their spirit, their laughter, and the way they lit up the dullest of moments.

“I missed you,” he said, surprising even himself. The admission hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings.

“Really?” They said, their expression softening. “I missed you too, Riddle.”

An awkward silence settled between them, the usual banter replaced by a shared understanding that felt almost intimate. they leaned back, gazing at the sky above. “So, what’s been going on in your world? Still following all those boring rules?”

“Of course,” Riddle replied, though his tone lacked the usual annoyance. “Someone has to keep this place in order.”

“Boring, boring, boring!” they teased, rolling their eyes dramatically. “You really need to loosen up, Riddle! How about we have a little fun instead?”

“Fun?” he echoed. “I can’t just abandon my responsibilities..."

“Responsibilities, shmesponsibilities!” They waved a hand dismissively. “Life is too short for that. You should come flying with me! It’s so freeing!”

Riddle crossed his arms, suppressing a smile. “You make it sound tempting, but I’d prefer not to plummet to my death, thank you very much.”

“Aw, come on! You’d be fine. I’d catch you,” they said, leaning forward, their eyes sparkling with mischief. “Plus, I’m sure your ‘housewarden’ reputation would survive a little adventure.”

“Housewarden?” He raised an eyebrow, the nickname surprisingly pleasant. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“Why would you need my name? I’m just the ‘troublemaker’ that keeps you on your toes,” they said, shrugging playfully.

“Come on, at least tell me,” Riddle urged, leaning closer. “It’s only fair since I told you mine.”

They laughed, their eyes sparkling with mischief. “You want to know my name, Housewarden? You’re going to have to work for it!”

“Fine,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?” they challenged, leaning back on their hands with a grin. “It’s not like you can give me a detention or something.”

“Maybe I’ll just have to think of something creative to make you tell me,” he replied, his mind racing to find an answer that wouldn’t give away his flustered feelings.

“I wanted to show you something.” They sat up, an excited gleam in their eyes. “Do you want to see my wings?”

“Wings?” Riddle echoed, his curiosity piqued. “You have wings?”

They nodded enthusiastically, a flicker of their usual mischief returning. They shifted around to face him, their back to Riddle. Slowly, they pulled back the fabric of their shirt, revealing a small, clipped wings protruding from their shoulder. It was delicate and fragile, a remnant of what once had been.

Riddle’s breath caught in his throat. “They’re beautiful,” he said, though a pang of sadness twisted in his chest. “But… why are they so small?”

“They were clipped a long time ago,” they said, their tone light but with a hint of sadness lurking beneath the surface. “It’s all that’s left of me.”

He reached out, gently poking the tiny wings. It twitched under his touch, and they giggled, the sound bringing warmth to the chilly evening. “Hey! That tickles! And... It doesn’t really work anymore,” they said, a flicker of sadness passing through their eyes. “But it’s still mine.”

“You should take care of them,” Riddle said, his voice more serious now. “You deserve to have wings that can carry you.”

The fairy smiled at him, a genuine smile that lit up their face. “I appreciate that, Riddle. But for now, I’m happy just being here. My flying magic is good enough for me.”

“I…” He hesitated, unsure how to voice the conflicting emotions swirling within him. “I… I kind of like having you here,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Their eyes sparkled with mischief as they flipped back around to face him, their playful nature returning. “Aww, does that mean you’re developing feelings for me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Riddle snapped, though the flustered warmth in his cheeks betrayed him. “I’m just saying—”

“Uh-huh,” the fairy interrupted, laughter dancing in their voice. “Just saying, right? I think you’ve got a soft spot for me, Roseheart.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but found no words came. Instead, he simply watched as they stood up, ready to leave. “You know,” they said, glancing back over their shoulder, “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Wait—” he began, suddenly feeling a tug of desperation.

But before he could finish, they were already turning away. “See you around, Riddle!” the fairy called over their shoulder, their voice bright and teasing.

“Wait!” Riddle shouted, unable to contain the urgency in his tone. “You can’t just leave like that!”

“I have to go, Riddle. I’ll be fine!” They shot him a reassuring smile, but there was something in their eyes that didn’t quite match the carefree tone of their words.

“Are you sure? Can’t you stay a bit longer?” he pressed, anxiety creeping into his voice.

They hesitated for a moment, their expression softening. “I wish I could, but I really have to get going. You know how it is.”

“But I don’t want you to go,” he admitted, his heart racing. “You can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

“I’ll always come back,” the fairy promised, but there was a fleeting sadness in their gaze that made him uneasy. “Just… keep an eye on the flowers for me, alright?”

“Wait— I don't even know your name yet!” Riddle started, feeling a cold fear settle in his chest. “And what do you mean by that? Will you really come back?”

They looked back, their smile bittersweet. “Just trust me, okay? I’ll see you soon!” And with that, they took off, leaving Riddle standing there, feeling an ache in his heart that he couldn’t quite understand. As they disappeared into the distance, he was left alone in the garden, haunted by an unsettling feeling that this might be the last time he would see them.

Days turned into weeks again, and Riddle found himself waiting in the garden, but they never returned. Their absence lingered like a shadow, a reminder of the connection they had forged. Each day felt heavier, the laughter they once shared echoing in his mind.

The garden, once filled with color, felt like a graveyard for unfulfilled hopes. He realized that the strange feeling growing inside him was not just appreciation; it was something deeper—a connection he hadn’t fully acknowledged until it was too late.

Riddle never heard from them again. The vibrant memories faded, overshadowed by the weight of the unspoken. He would later come to learn that sometimes, darkness overtakes the light, and the ache of missing someone could become a part of his very being.

#twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle x you #riddle #twisted wonderland #romance #angst #fanfic #fanfiction

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oldmannapping · 9 months ago

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Fic: Bodyswap (Part 2)

Part One

Based on my own prompt about wanting a body-swap fic that dealt with the gross embarrassing parts.

This has expanded into something more than I intended, but I can't stop writing.

It's a Dick-Jason, Tim-Steph bodyswap. There is literally no plot. They're body-swapped and trying to deal with it, that's it. No pairings, past Steph/Tim.

It's crack treated like crack. It's two parts for now but I might add more. Warnings for language, discussions of menstruation, discussions of sexuality.

EXCERPT:

“This isn’t just PMS,” Tim continues blithely. “This is definitely something more.”

Bruce and Dick take sizeable steps backwards. Jason cackles.

Steph flares Tim’s nostrils and opens her mouth. Far too late, Tim realises that he’s in danger.

“Timothy.” Somehow, she makes Tim’s voice growl almost as low as Batman’s. “PMS is not JUST anything. When women say that they are tired. Sad. Having cravings. Not themselves. We are not just making excuses to lie in bed and let the patriarchy win.”

Oh no, she said “patriarchy”. Tim’s fucked.

Bruce rubs his forehead, eyes pinched closed. He’s only been in the Cave for six minutes and he’s already regretting every life choice that led to this moment.

“So you can read each other’s minds?” he clarifies, still not opening his eyes.

“No,” Jason snaps derisively.

“Not really,” says Dick dick-lomatically. (Duke used that word ONE TIME and no one has ever let it go.) “It’s more like… familiar thought patterns? I’m still me, with my memories and thoughts, but I’ve got Jason’s… knee jerk reactions. His instincts. It’s hard to describe.”

“I haven’t noticed anything like that,” says Tim, peering at the older men with curiosity. “I haven’t run too many experiments yet though. I’m planning all sorts of cognitive testing and brain scans but I’ve been really foggy-headed and haven’t been able to put it together like I normally would.”

He frowns. “Now that I think about it, maybe that’s a symptom in itself. Could it be that the spell actively smothers attempts to break it? I was writing a program to analyse the results of some basic nerve conduction studies yesterday and I got so tired I had to have a nap. When I woke up, I was ravenous and completely forgot about the studies. This is fascinating. Bruce, is there any precedent for spells that are self-protecting like that? This could be something we should consult Zatanna about, or maybe even Constantine…”

“Yo, Boy Genius,” interrupts Steph, clicking Tim’s fingers in front of her own face. “That wasn’t the spell. Brain fog, fatigue, increased appetite? Congratulations, you’ve just discovered PMS.”

Tim is aghast. Jason has barked a surprised laugh and Dick and Bruce seem baffled.

“That, that can’t be right,” Tim insists. “You don’t understand Steph, I was operating WAY below my usual capacity. This wasn’t just a little brain fog. I was having a hard time with codes that I’d normally be able to do in my sleep. I forgot the word for “synthesise”. I took a two-hour nap then ate half a rotisserie chicken. I threw my keyboard across the room and then cried when it broke.”

“That was my chicken,” says Dick in a small, sad voice. Jason’s body needs a LOT of protein.

“This isn’t just PMS,” Tim continues blithely. “This is definitely something more.”

Bruce and Dick take sizeable steps backwards. Jason cackles.

Steph flares Tim’s nostrils and opens her mouth. Far too late, Tim realises that he’s in danger.

Oh no, she said “patriarchy”. Tim’s fucked.

Steph’s not done. “We are not weak. We are not hysterical, moody hypochondriacs with wandering wombs. We are experiencing the VERY REAL mental and physical and emotional effects of our bodies preparing to have a BABY and then overhauling itself by EJECTING AN ENTIRE BABY HOUSE out of our vaginas.”

She’s still not done. Tim’s trying not to breathe in case that makes her angrier.

“I’ve gone on patrol with a heat pack strapped under my costume. I’ve sat exams on days when I can’t remember which bus I usually take. I’ve cried in the bathroom at work and wiped my eyes, reapplied my mascara, and gone back out there because I’m a fucking woman and that’s what we’re doing every single freaking day while you assholes are telling us that we’re biologically designed to earn 35% less than you.”

Tim opens Steph’s mouth and all the other men in the room know that whatever he's about to say is going to be a mistake. “I don’t think women should earn less than men,” is what he lands on.

Bruce decides to speak up before Steph can reply. He's very brave. “So we can reasonably assume that the spell isn’t actively trying to prevent anyone from breaking it,” he says, clearing his throat. “And it doesn’t transfer thoughts and memories, but engrained thought patterns and autonomous reactions.”

Dick is very happy to be back on topic. “Yeah, basically.”

“What are some examples?” asks Bruce, walking to the Batcomputer and pulling up a spreadsheet.

Jason and Dick glower at each other silently, not wanting a rehash of their previous argument. This whole situation was dignity-shattering enough.

Dick coughs. “Jason and I have noticed,” he says carefully, “that we have each other’s automatic reflexes to situations. I’ve noticed that my aggression levels are up. I’m always wanting to scan the room for a threat. Jason’s noticed similar things about my body’s reactions.” He hopes that’s enough detail.

Bruce hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think it’s just your bodies,” he muses, typing rapidly. “It could be your brains – your actual, physical brains, not your consciousness or whatever’s been transferred by the spell. Brains like patterns and routines. It makes them effective. It seems that while your consciousnesses have been transplanted, the structure of each of your brains has remained unchanged.”

“Has anyone studied this before?” asks Tim, pulling up his phone and tapping away. “It makes sense but I’ve never heard of body-swapping having this particular wrinkle before.”

“It sounds like your bodies’ hormone levels remained the same too,” says Bruce awkwardly, glancing at Tim-in-Steph’s-body’s abdomen with faint alarm. “Of course, we’ll need to run further tests but that shouldn’t be too difficult since we’ve already been taking daily bloods…” He hums again and opens several more browsers, muttering to himself.

-_-

“TESTING!” booms Bruce’s voice suddenly, two hours later. He looks around. He is alone in the Cave. He presses the intercom. “Alfred, could you gather the kids and tell them- Dammit!” He misses Alfred so much. Bruce sighs and dials Dick’s phone, calling his children back to the Cave.

Once they’re assembled, he starts again.

“TESTING.”

They’re standing in a circle on the mats. Jason’s pointedly holding his phone where Dick can see the screen as he scrolls through nipple piercing and tattoo websites. Dick is trying to focus politely on Bruce. Tim and Steph are glowering grumpily next to each other.

Bruce ignores their moods. He claps his hands. He’s excited for testing. Testing is one of his favourite parts of weird magic times.

“Dick!” he says, pointing. “Unlock Jason’s phone.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason locks his phone and hands it off to Dick. Dick starts to hold it up to his/Jason’s face when Bruce says, “No, with the PIN. Don’t think about it, just see if you can do it with muscle memory.”

Dick looks back to the phone and stares for a beat. Then, his thumbs move rapidly to swipe through a nine-digit code. The phone unlocks.

“Motherfucker,” Jason swears, grabbing his phone back.

“You didn’t know the code before now?” confirms Bruce. Dick shakes his head. “What is it?”

Dick frowns, then shrugs. “I have no idea. My thumbs just-“ He mimes typing on a phone. “It was too quick for me to catch all the numbers.”

“Fascinating.” Bruce is so excited to add to his spreadsheet. He pulls something out of his pocket and throws it to Steph.

She catches it automatically. “Okay? We know we all have good reflexes?”

“You caught it with your left hand,” points out Bruce. “Even though that meant you had to reach across your body. Even though you, Stephanie, are right-handed, this body is not. This body’s brain and mind are still wired to have Tim’s reflexes even if you’re the one in conscious control.”

The four affected youths eye each other warily.

Bruce pulls out a folder. “I’ve printed some pictures to show you. I want you to give me your automatic reactions to these images, don’t overthink it.”

He goes through both benign and personal pictures. It turns out that seeing Dick’s favourite food makes Jason’s mouth water. Seeing Steph’s old childhood toy gives Tim, in her body, a jolt of nostalgic nausea even though he’s never seen the tatty bear before. (“How do you even have a picture of Mr Huggins?” asks Steph. “Creeper.”) Seeing a playground makes Tim’s body anxious and Jason’s body prickle with protective anticipation.

They all thoroughly agree that Bruce is weird for making them do all of this and then immediately disband to run secret individual experiments on their own.

-_-

“This body!” snaps Jason. “This body is so NEEDY!”

Dick groans. “What now?”

Jason paces restlessly. “First it needs to move all the damn time. I always thought you were fidgeting and doing handstands off tables and shit to be annoying, but you really can’t help it.”

Dick shrugs. “It’s been kinda weird to be in your body and not feel like that. I keep thinking I’m forgetting something but it’s just that I haven’t moved in a while and usually that’s a problem. No wonder you don’t mind long stakeouts.”

“No wonder you hate them,” Jason agrees. “It’s not even that this time. It’s this weird, like, almost itching. Like a shortness of breath. You’re not allergic to anything are you?”

He stalks over to his own body and frowns up at his own face. “Huh,” he says. “You’re not afraid of me. Zero fear response. You’re an idiot.”

Dick rolls Jason’s eyes. “Yeah yeah, you’ve very scary and edgy. Such an ambiguous anti-hero. Dear me, I hope he doesn’t snap one day. Etcetera.”

Jason shoulder-checks him (ineffectively) and storms over to where Tim and Steph are sending each other triggering images over text to see who will break first. Steph’s just sent Tim a picture of a happy family on vacation with the caption “not u lol” when Jason reaches them.

They stare at Jason blankly as he gets up in their personal space. They’re used to Dick being close to them so it doesn’t feel weird, but they know it’s JASON, so it IS weird. Jason grabs Steph-as-Tim’s arm and holds it for a moment. He grunts and releases it. He turns to Tim-in-Steph, an odd look on his face. He reaches for Tim’s arm but the movement seems to get away from him and he ends up grabbing Tim around the shoulders with one arm, holding him in close.

“What are you doing?” yelps Tim, struggling briefly.

“I have no idea,” says Jason, who seems equally baffled but isn’t letting go.

“Holy moly,” says Steph. “You two are tragic. Dick’s body needs a HUG, morons.”

Jason and Tim freeze. They simultaneously realise that this isn’t a strange new grappling move. This is a hug. Oh no they’re hugging. They don’t hug. They’re not huggers.

Dick snickers, coming over to view the scene. “I could have told you that,” he informs Jason.

“It’s not allergies?” says Jason, shuffling around to look at Dick without letting go of Tim. “Your body wanted a HUG? What are you, a toddler?”

“Hugs aren’t childish,” scolds Steph mildly, taking photos on her phone even though they will never capture the true awkwardness of a Tim-and-Jason hug. “Heaps of people need touch to feel good. Hugs, cuddles, patting a pet, whatever. Dick’s a hugger, you already knew that.”

“I knew he liked hugging, I didn’t know he needed it to live,” bites Jason, trying to appear nonchalant and cool while embracing Tim to his chest like a doll. “Why is this body hugging you? Steph, I mean. Why not just go for the closest person?”

Steph and Dick roll their eyes. “Jason, when was the last time you and I hugged?” Dick asks. Jason glowers.

Steph nods. “Dick and I hug all the time, dude. You two aren’t cuddly. That’s cool. Whatever. Tim lets me use him as a pillow at movie night so I’m happy. Dick’s body probably feels more comfortable with mine than the others here.”

“Plus, girls are so nice for hugs,” Dick adds. “So nice and soft. So snuggly and safe.”

That does it. Tim and Jason break apart and swiftly put eight feet of space between them. The incident is swiftly added to the Never To Be Spoken About Again list, which is growing longer by the day.

-_-

The end? To be continued? Who even knows.

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toxic3mmy · 8 months ago

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just a quick little os before i get back to y’all’s requests! love u so so much <33

prompt: alex saves you and it turns into something more

warning: reference to uncomfortable flirting/coming onto

but!!! fluff, kissing, etc w alex

________________________________________

“hey chat! it’s y/twitchusername and today we’re here visiting mexico! look at the beautiful view!”

you turn the camera around and move your phone slowly to show the beautiful sunset in front of you.

you switch back to your front camera and smile while reading the chat messages. you were so occupied that you barely noticed the middle aged hispanic man come up behind you. he was speaking a different type of spanish you didn’t understand… maybe portuguese or something similar? the man then noticed you didn’t understand so he switched to broken english.

“you are very beautiful”

“oh, haha thanks,” you say awkwardly and the man points to your phone which was still livestreaming on twitch.

“you record or picture?” he asked as he smiled creepily

“um no, im live see?” he doesn’t respond and just stares at you still smiling.

you were very uncomfortable so you tried to walk closer to where there were more people in hopes that you could lose this creep in a crowd.

“chat, um hi how are you guys? please distract me, i’m super freaked out right now” you whisper, glancing behind you to see the man was following you.

as he was practically right up behind you, he began stroking your hair.

“beautiful” he whispered and you felt his hands wander closer to your chest.

“hey! no, don’t do that. get away from me” you say sternly and look around nervously.

“come here baby, we go my house” he started to yank your arm and you were definitely panicking now.

“mi amor! i’ve been looking everywhere for you! donde te fuiste mi novia hermosa?!” a raven haired boy came up to you and smiled warmly. you harshly pulled the creeps arm off of you and hid behind this guy. you took this as a chance to type goodbye to your chat and end the stream.

“just play along” he whispered to you

“yeah im so glad you found me” you said with a quivering voice

the creepy man still was lingering and as he began to move forward in an attempt to grab you again, you quickly and instinctively pulled the sweet boy in for a kiss. he was really surprised but reciprocated the kiss. you opened your eyes and saw that the creep was gone and it felt like you could breathe again.

“oh my god, thank you so so much. i’m here alone and this guy just wouldn’t leave me alone. he started t-to touch my chest and—” tears began to fall softly from your eyes

“shh, it’s okay. i’m really glad i was here.” he said as he dried your tears and pulled you in for a hug

you nod and sniffle as you look at his handsome face.

“im alex by the way, what a weird way to meet a pretty girl like you huh?” he smiled

“my name is y/n, thanks for saving me back there. also i apologize if kissing you was too weird, i saw that guy getting closer to me and i panicked”

“oh that’s okay, i really enjoyed it, you’ve got soft lips y/n”

a blush took over your entire face.

“come on, let’s get out of here yeah?”

“okay” you smiled at alex and he took your hand and lead you into town.

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader

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mandalaysworld · 1 month ago

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my angel.

writers note: hey yall, this is my first of many archived pieces ;))) i’m super excited to be posting. i’ve been nervous though, idk why! i kinda wrote this into a small series to lmk if you guys want it. please enjoy ;)))

pairing: momo yaoyorazu x black coded reader

content: black reader, lesbian coded (bisexual if you squint), fingering, strap on use, oral sex, intention was to use lower case writing , etccccc…

r&bsingery/n thinks about her modelgf!momo yaoyorazu all the time when she’s on tour. it’s hard to see her with all your shows meshing with her gigs. you guys call, text, email, facetime whenever you can due to your demanding schedules. you missed everything about her. it so happens you have a show in london and she has a gig in london, you guys took that opportunity. you was sitting on the couch in your luxury hotel on the top floor. you were busy tweaking your hook for your new upcoming song until you heard a knock on the door. you got up and ran to the door, hoping it was who you hoped it was. you looked through the peephole and smiled. you opened the door to your beautiful, raven haired beauty. you picked her up and swung her around. she giggled and grabbed your face.

“hey baby. i missed you so much mommy.”

she said after putting kisses all over my face and neck. you would smile and pull away, coming together again with a kiss.

“i missed you too angel. come on in.”

you said, letting her come in. she takes off her coat as she kicks off her boots. you take her coat and lay it across the chair you had at the bar.

“baby, this view is beautiful. i’ll never get tired of london.”

she said looking at the skyline in the windows. i giggled at her astonishment.

“im surprised you haven’t just yet. you been here so many times.” i said approaching her from the back. i snaked my arm around her waist and inhaled her scent. her signature floral notes hits my nose.

“yeah i know. it’s like every time feels like the first time you know?”

she rambles on as i place light kisses on her neck.

“yes i know baby.”

she sighs and cranes her neck to look at me.

“baby are you even listening to me?” she asked.

i nod my head.

“yes mama i was. i just wanna make up for lost time, you know?” i said as i turned her around.

she smiled as i leaned in for a kiss. her lips were so soft, instantly feeling butterflies in my stomach. your hands slides down her back and grips her round ass. you tap her ass and in instinct, she makes a small jump in the air. you carried her to your bedroom you’ll be residing in for the next a couple of days. you climb on top of her marveling at her doe like eyes.

“it’s like every time i see you, you get more beautiful angel.” i gushed as i unbuttoned her pants. she blushes and looks away.

“how do you still manage to make me blush and we been together for almost a year now?” she asked as i pulled her panties and jeans off, being impatient as usual. i grabbed her right leg and started to kiss her ankle.

“i don’t know. maybe because i’m like that for real.” i said i rubbed her other leg. i leaned forward and started to make out with her again. momo finds the end of your tshirt and pull it over your head revealing nothing but your perk nipples. she grazes her finger tips over your erect nipples and gave them a small pinch. you moaned, taking the opportunity to slip her tongue in. you two started to breathe more heavily.

“baby i need you—right now.” momo demanded in the kiss. i chuckled.

“when did you get so bossy angel?” she sat up on her elbows.

“ever since my girlfriend is being a slow—oh!” i winked from below her. she watched as i devoured her. she throws her head back with a moan.

“fuck y/n…i missed you so much baby. please….dont stop.” she moaned out as she gripped my afro. i reached up and rubbed on her slim stomach. she unbuttoned that single button she had to secure her plump breasts. i noticed she had them pierced.

“oh? you got your nipples pierced angel?” i asked as i replaced my tongue with my fingers.

“fuck, yes mommy surprise. pleeeeeeease….dont stop mommy. keep going!” she moaned out with her eyes shut tightly. i smirked as i watched her juices trickled down the palm of my hand.

“yes baby because you asked so nicely.” me listening to all her wet, squelching noises is music to my ears. literally. seconds later, momo cries in pleasure as she squirts everywhere from the bed, upper arm and little on my face.

“mm yeah angel. this is what i’m talking about! i miss this fucking pussy.” i praised on with a giggle.

kept pumping my fingers in and out until she was no more. she breathes heavily as i stuck my fingers in my mouth. she watched me seductively. “still sweet angel.” she pushed me over on the the mattress and hovered over me. “it’s my turn.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ *

fuuuuuuck me baby! you’re fucking the shit out of me mommy!” momo moaned out.

i had her bent over on all fours, pounding that pretty pussy. i bit my bottom lip as i watched her round ass bounce off my pelvis. watching her pussy grip my blue strap was something i missed seeing.

“yeah mommy treating this pussy real good huh? you love this dick baby?” i asked before i wrapped her thick black hair round my hand. i roughly pulled it back and made her look at me.

“look at me as i treat this little pretty hm?” she looked at her with her mascara streaked eyes. she was biting on her bottom lip until she let a small pleasured whine. placed my other hand on the small of her back to deepen the arch. all you could hear was her wet pussy talking to me. i smacked her already red ass twice.

fuckkk…flip over. now.” i demanded momo. she did as she was told and made myself at home in between her legs again. i leaned down and started to make out with her passionately. she moaned as i rubbed the blue mushroom tip on her clit.

“stop being a tease. give it to me.” she whined. i smirked as i impaled her through the mattress. she gasped. i started to kiss all over her face. “i did what you asked of me,” i whispered.

“now…are you going to continue whining or take it like mommy’s good girl?”

end note: so what did you guys think? i mean, ik i need to work on it a little more when it comes to my diction and stuff but still idk. also too, the r&bsingery/n is based off kehlani. so i hope i nailed it for now! thank you <333

#mha x black reader #mha x reader #momo yaoyorozu #smut #mha smut #lesbian #anime x black!reader #anime and manga #boku no hero academia

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twistedtummies2 · 1 year ago

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A Day Beneath the King (Kink Fic; LeonaXReader)

WARNING: IF YOU ARE NOT 18+, TURN BACK IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS NOT A STORY FOR YOU, SO DO NOT READ IT, PLEASE. EVERYBODY GOT THAT? GOOD.

Yesterday was International Underwear Day. Yes, really. That’s a thing. I was too late to make anything for that on time, BUT I did decide to finish this complete madhouse of kinky weirdness featuring Leona Kingscholar from “Twisted Wonderland.” For a long time, I’ve toyed around with the idea of ass entrapment; a tiny partner/preything being trapped in/with the rump of their giant-sized beau/predator for a while. I decided, as an experiment (and since I’ve had booties on the brain lately) to write up a trial of a story focused entirely on that kink. And who better to help with this experiment than my God and Master of Fiction, Leona? This story contains rump smushing/smothering, butt crushing, ass entrapment, implied vore, various macro/micro elements, and general insanity. If none of that sounds like something you want to read, you have one last chance to turn back. If you’re still here...enjoy the ride. I know I did. >///>

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“Hmph. You know, Herbivore…I always thought you were cute, but at this size? Heh…I think even a mouse would say you’re adorable.”

A fittingly mouse-like squeak was the only audible response you had to offer, as you gazed up at your titan-sized boyfriend. When Leona Kingscholar had invited you to his dorm room, with the promise of a special “anniversary surprise,” you hadn’t expected it to be a faceful of Sam’s patented, long-lasting shrinking powder. Now, you were smaller than a rodent, while Leona’s handsome form loomed over you. A smug look of amusement was upon his scarred yet supremely beautiful face, while his green eyes glowed with a keen, almost ravenous sort of gleam…which, to be fair, seemed to be their usual setting. Your heart was hammering hard in your chest, for many reasons. Not the least of them was the fact that Leona was almost naked: it was still morning, and the lazy lion hadn’t yet gotten dressed for the day’s activity. His tanned, toned form leered down at you in all its glory; his well-shaped six pack abs pulsed with his breath, his large, heavy feet planted down on either side of your. His dark mane cast shadows across his face, giving an almost evil yet deeply entrancing veneer to his supercilious expression. “What’s the matter?” he purred. “Cat got your tongue?” He grinned, showing off his fangs as you were helpless to do anything but sputter mindlessly. Your faculties for speech and proper thought were all but kaput…seeing all that warm, inviting, smooth skin…seeing that gorgeous body…seeing those sharp teeth and that hungry look in his eyes… You weren’t sure exactly how small you were - less than three inches, to be certain - but you somehow felt totally microscopic now. As if you were in the presence of a God. You didn’t dare tell Leona that, though: the big jerk had an ego the size of a hot air balloon already, after all. With a rumble that seemed to make the floor beneath your feet quake, one of Leona’s strong, long-fingered hands reached out and scooped you up, carefully lifting you into the air as he rose from his squatting position. He stood at his full height, his free hand resting upon his plush, curved hip, which he cocked slightly as he inspected you within his grasp. His grip was firm yet tender; not painful, but certainly not easy to break. You wiggled instinctively, and watched him grin once more. “Don’t struggle, worm,” he teased, playfully, swishing his rope-like tail. “Now that’s just an uncalled for name,” you muttered, trying not to show how much the demeaning taunt made you blush. You were pretty sure you failed. “Well, I guess you’re right,” shrugged Leona. “If you were a worm, I’d just squish you.” A slightly sadistic shimmer came to his fanged smile as he gave you a squeeze…then chuckled as you squeaked once more. “Such a pathetic little thing,” he cooed, then raised an eyebrow. “How are you enjoying my anniversary surprise so far, hmmm?” “W-Well, I’m…mostly wondering WHY you’ve shrunk me?” you decided to ask, rather shyly. It was clear Leona was in a mean mood, and you really didn’t want to upset him when he was in that state. He could be scary even when he WASN’T in such a mood…but to be fair, giving in to his dominating presence had never exactly been something you tried hard to deny. You loved being his, and he loved knowing that. “I decided to give you a gift,” said Leona. “You’re going to take a backseat position for the rest of the day. Call it a favor: today, you don’t need to do any schoolwork. You don’t have to walk to class, run on the PE field, deal with those smelly chemicals in the lab…” “I’m guessing, at this point, there’s a catch involved,” you drawled. After all, he hadn’t just shrunk you to give you a break. You knew him too well to expect or believe that. “Depends on what you mean by catch,” answered Leona, slyly.

He then leaned close, and you squirmed as his sharp nose nuzzled against you. You could feel his nostrils flare as he not-so-subtly sniffed, taking in your scent. The intimacy was only enhanced by the vast size difference; you felt as if his nose, itself, was larger than you were. “Mmmm…I’m gonna keep you with me the whole day,” Leona growled, in a possessive sort of way. “No one else gets to see you. No one else gets to FEEL you. For our anniversary, I’m making sure that You’re. All. Mine. So, now that you’re so tiny…” He lapped his tongue over you, making you squeal as saliva was slapped across your side. “Mmmmaaaaah…I’m going to put you away somewhere,” Leona breathed, the warm, humid, meat-scented air wafting over you when he spoke. “Somewhere close…somewhere warm…somewhere dark…heh, probably doesn’t smell too good, probably very tight…but you’ll be safe. For a while, anyway.” You gulped as you saw him lick his perfect lips. “I…I’m g-guessing that ‘somewhere’ is…uh…right down there?” you eeked out, pointing down towards his bare belly. Leona laughed, his free hand rubbing up and down over his washboard abs. “As tempting as that is, not this time,” he answered. “I’ve got somewhere else in mind to hold onto you for the day.” You must have looked quite confused, for Leona’s sneaky smile widened. “I told you before,” he said, his voice dropping an octave in a husky, dusky way. “You’re taking a BACKSEAT position today.” The hand that caressed his belly moved down and around. The fingertips brushed over his pelvis, slid serenely across his hip and his thigh…and you felt something inside you flip-flop as you saw that hand rub up and down over the curve of one of his soft, round, well-padded rump cheeks. “Wait…w-wait, you…what…you…?” “Tch. You really need to stop stuttering, Herbivore,” scoffed Leona. “How can I enjoy you whimpering out my name if you can’t even talk straight?’ “Ass,” was all you could say. Leona grinned wider than ever. “Heh. You got it right,” he chuckled, and then lowered you carefully. “Now, take a deep breath, Herbivore. It’s probably the last bit of fresh air you’re gonna taste for a while.” You felt your eyes widen as you soon found yourself hovering, in an easy grasp, over the small of Leona’s backside. You could see the y-shaped space beneath his supple tail, which acted as the entrance to cleft between his cushioned glutes. Those same glutes were soon plainly visible, as his other hand stretched the back of the elastic band of his underpants, revealing a warm, musky-smelly cave, lined in fabric and flesh. “Wait…w-wait, Leona, LEONA, HOLD ON…!” Leona wasn’t holding on, in any way. You scrabbled against his fingers, but - with a simple tip of the wrist - you tumbled from his hand and plunged straight down into the dark well in the back of his black-and-gold boxers. THWAPP! “Ahhhh…mmmmmm,” moaned Leona, eyes fluttering closed as he trapped you in the back of his underwear. He bit his lip and rumbled, a look of pure, possessive pleasure in his jade-colored eyes as one of his hands lightly caressed the cloth-covered softness of his ass, roaming his palm around the half-spherical curve of one of his plump, plush, well-stacked cheeks. “Welcome to the king’s ‘throne room,’ Herbivore,” he teased. “Hope you enjoy the view, because you won’t be seeing anything else unless I allow it.” Leona gave his butt a firm spank. His cheeks wobbled and bounced against each other from the impact…and against you. You tried to speak, but all you could really manage - at least at first - were muffled, wordless noises. The fat fanny mounds were smushing against either side of your face, your head pressing into the outermost layer of his booty canyon. Your arms were outstretched, firmly pinned between the fatty swells of his blubbery buttocks, and the tight-fitting fabric prison created by his boxers. You tried to move your legs, but they had slid into the crack itself; you could feel the silky, soft skin that lined the crevice swallowing up your feet. All around you was the oppressive warmth of the lion-man’s fat ass, his stacked cake baking your own skin with its heat. You tried to squirm, but Leona growled at your efforts. Muffled squeaking sounds left you, as he flexed his ass HARD around you, the cushioned, pudgy rump orbs cramming down on either side of you, like a vise formed from mattress cushions. “Hmph…MPH! PLMPH STRMPH! LNRMPH!” Your words were an unintelligible garble of noises, mixing panic and flustered frustration together. Your face felt very hot, and not just because of the dark heat of the ass-jail you were now spending time in. Leona grinned naughtily over his shoulder, rocking his hips from side to side, swaying his butt as he looked in the mirror. He could see the outline your body made as it pushed against his underwear…he teasingly ran one finger around the edges, crooning when he felt you squirm so deliciously against his power. It was so easy to own you this way…so easy to KEEP you… “Hope you’re enjoying yourself in there, my little pet,” purred the prince as he patted his posterior. “Because you’re going to spend the entire day in there. From now till I return to my room, you won’t be leaving the depths of my shorts. So I’d get comfortable with ass, if I were you; the two of you are gonna be VERY well acquainted when this is over, heh heh…” Licking his teeth lustily, Leona strode across his room. You squirmed anew as you could feel his butt cheeks bounce and shift with every step…then your eyes widened as, suddenly, your face was forced deeper into his musky cleft. A new tightness seemed to overtake you, and you could hear Leona grunting slightly as he strained with something. The movements and sounds you sensed soon informed you of what was going on: Leona had just put on his typical tight-fitting pants. While you blushed at your situation, Leona fastened his trousers, and once again looked in the reflection. An evil smile crossed his scarred face: the pants completely hid you from sight. Not even he could detect much sign of anything amiss…let alone something as wild as a shrunken human, crammed into the back of his underwear. Chuckling nastily, he quickly clothed himself in the rest of his school uniform. Then, he gathered his items for classes, and began to stride through the halls of Savanaclaw, and the rest of Night Raven beyond. Leona’s walk was a thing of grace and beauty, which you had all but committed to memory; the swaggering strut of an apex predator, which left his hips in constant motion, his thighs pumping as they carried his tall, powerful form all the way to wherever he willed them to bring him. Now, wedged into the opening of his rump canyon, you were experiencing that walk in a whole new way. Grunts and wheezes left you as you felt the butt cheeks grind against each side of your body, pumping like pistons and pounding away at you with their smothering, suffocating heft. The chubby cheeks jiggled from the impact of each step, and each jiggle just seemed to work you deeper into the fat bottom’s inescapable embrace. You shook your head and tried to push away…but it was a fruitless endeavor. The ass cheeks smashed into you repeatedly, with hammering intensity; as long as Leona was moving, escape was totally inconceivable. The thought made you quiver for more than one reason. “L-Leona!” you gasped out, finally getting enough of your face free to speak. “Leona, I’m not sure-MPH!” Your protests were silenced when a flex of the ass forced your head into the crack again. “Shut up,” you heard Leona grumble. “I’m trying to get to class. You stay right there, Herbivore. Trust me…you won’t be going anywhere…” The devilish laugh the lion let out made you want to hate him…mostly because it made you lust for him all the more.

How dare this bullying jerk be so drop-dead gorgeous? Life was truly unfair. Finally, you stopped squirming, closing your eyes and simply letting yourself be squished and smushed by the repeated pressing and pushing of the gluteus maximus’ twin moons. Maybe you’d try escaping again later, but for now…there was nothing to but wait. As Leona strutted about, butt rocking and rolling from side to side, his ass cheeks crashing into you like a couple of tidal waves…you soon began to worry about a simple and obvious issue. Leona wouldn’t be standing, nor even walking, forever. Sooner or later, he would have to sit. You blushed bright red, unsure if you should dread that moment or call it a blessing…

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

…Experience would not provide you with any clear answers, as your hormones fought a battle with your survival instincts and physicality. It was hard to tell which side was winning. Leona sat boredly in one of Trein’s classes. His position was its usual one for such scenarios: his eyes half-lidded and sleepy-looking, his head leaning in one gloved hand, the other tapping his magical pen slowly against the pages of the book open in front of him…a book he pointedly was not looking in, instead half-listening to the elderly professor’s droning, dry lecture. The handsome half-lion yawned without shame, ignoring the looks some of the other students gave him. For him, it was another bland, monotonous lesson session of information he already knew. No different from any other class with Professor Trein… …Well, he smirked. He supposed it WAS different, but only in a small way. Chuffing through his nose and rolling his eyes at his own mental wordplay, the lion subtly shifted his position in his seat. His right rump cheek stretched and lifted slightly, before settling and splaying out again. His left cheek then did the same. He rumbled as he got comfortable, little flickers of pleasure sparking in his bloodstream as he could feel the warm, soft, pleasant sensation of the puny form pinned beneath his heavy bottom. “Hope you’re having fun down there,” he mumbled under his breath, not sure if you could hear him or not…and honestly not really caring. “Fun,” you guessed, was in the eye of the beholder. Any wiggling you had been able to do when Leona was standing and walking had been stopped completely. The hard wood of the seat pressed through the back of his pants and into your spine, while the much softer, juicier, meatier surface of his giant butt fell over your whole body’s front. It was like being buried under hundreds of pounds of cake dough, the weight bearing down on you with such immense pressure, you were legitimately surprised you didn’t pop like a grape under the strain. You couldn’t see anything, lodged in a place where the Sun never shone. You tried to push up against the fat mass, but the pudge just came drooping down again, pooling over your shrunken form, as if intent on swallowing you whole into its plump padding. Leona did not move much while he sat…but every time he did, you felt it. Every grind of his gigantic butt as he shifted his posterior in his seat made your bones whine. Your lungs wheezed as you gulped in raspy breaths every time you pushed some of the fat away from your face…only for that same pudge to drop down again. The softness of his skin only made you moan and groan; it was like being caressed by a lover…before having your face suffocated beneath a large pillow. Every breath you took was tainted with the heady odor of Leona’s natural, masculine musk. That scent only grew stronger the longer you were crammed under his fat ass; it was summertime, after all, and sitting for long hours could build up some sweat in certain places, even with the rooms well-conditioned. Your own sweat, courtesy of the furnace-like warmth that radiated from the glutes of the prince, speckled your brow, only making things feel slicker. You keened as you could feel a single bead of the stuff slide across the curve of his butt crack and drop onto your head. Your heart was pounding. A mixture of various emotions - fear and ever-growing arousal predominant among them - mingled in your body. This was so humiliating, so demeaning, so generally unpleasant…yet you found you almost didn’t want it to stop. It didn’t keep you from wiggling. Thinking the lion was distracted, you tried a couple of times to squirm…but even if all the weight and pressure had allowed it, Leona wouldn’t. You could alway sense his displeasure, as a low rumble - not quite a growl, but close - would thrum through the body over you…then, he’d flex his cheeks, till your head nearly felt like it might burst. You soon got the message and quit trying to break free; each time he flexed, you could feel yourself sinking into the cleft like it was quicksand. You groaned as Leona shifted his rump more insistently; now he was clearly doing it to directly torment you, smushing his cheeks over you and shifting the rolls of fat over you in waves. “Mmmmmm…” The pleasured moan around you made you blush more. You felt him lift his rump slightly, and felt the tightness around you slacken eeeever so slightly…before he sat fully once more, and you grimaced as you were forced deeper into the crack. Suddenly, you realized…that was the point. Every shift, every flex, every motion…was pushing you further and further into the crevice between the rump cheeks. You tried to squirm, letting out muffled calls for Leona to stop…but even if he heard you, he clearly wasn’t caring, as he just flexed hard. Suction dragged you deeper into the velvety canyon of sweaty, musky rump meat. You clawed at the cheeks, but your fingers just sank uselessly into the chub, and skidded across it without getting any real purchase. “Deeper,” Leona’s voice came drifting down to you, as he had clearly decided to ignore class in favor of dragging your body into his crack by force. “Get…all the way…in there…” Each phrase was accompanied by a flex from his butt. You could feel the muscles bundled together beneath the cushioning pudge, as they worked like a set of toothless jaws to nibble you into the blackness of the booty cleft. “H-Help…help! L-Leona…stop…!” Your words were panting, gasping…totally useless. Leona chuckled, amused at your feeble voice, buried beneath his bulk. “Sink,” he hissed. “You know where you belong.” “Kingscholar!” snapped Trein’s voice, crossly. “What are you muttering about? Are you paying attention at all?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m listening,” grunted Leona. You tried to call out to the professor, but blushed when you found you couldn’t. Too much weight, softness, and plumpness was pushing on your face and your chest. You were sinking into the canyon, your feet wiggling against the silky, sensitive skin that lined the inner layer of the rump region. Your head and one arm were all that remained outside of the crack. You puffed through your nostrils as your crimson face was squished more than ever, your fingers clinging to the fatness as best you could…

Leona - without watching his movements, his eyes on Trein’s blackboard - reached back with one hand while no one was looking. He gripped one of his butt cheeks, and gave it a slight jiggle. He smirked as he heard the faint, barely audible “swulp” sound as your entire body was now completely stuffed into the partition of his posterior. Leona flexed his cheeks once more, just to make sure you were firmly lodged in the crack, then scratched his butt carelessly before returning his attention as fully as he could (which wasn’t that fully) to Trein’s lesson. Your whole body was now totally immersed in assflesh. The musky smell and sweaty sensations were stronger than ever. You squirmed, but all you could feel was the soft, thick, weighty rump chub that surrounded you. You couldn’t tell which way to move to try and find fresh air…and you knew it was hopeless, anyway, since you were still trapped by Leona’s undergarments and the trousers beyond. A moan left you as you could hear the intestines of the lion bubbling somewhere nearby, and you could feel his butt clamp each time you pawed at the bum walls, which came around you like a trash compactor… “It’s useless trying to get away,” Leona’s voice came down again. “I could keep you there forever, if I wanted, y’know. Heh…just think of that…never knowing anything but that. Left to live inside my crack…lost there for the rest of your short, tortured life…not even worth a snack, just a plaything for me to break. Tch. Sounds like it would suck, but I bet it’s making you blush like a rose, right?” “Kingscholar!” “I’m listenin’, alright?!” While the professor and the prince began to bicker, you could only curl up slightly in the canyon. You really hated it when he was right, the rude bully…

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Leona panted slightly as he jogged across a stretch of flat, grassy field. His hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and he was dressed in his usual PE uniform. The one exception was the usual black sports jacket he had tied about his waist. He had left that in the lockers. The lion paused beside a tree and sighed, wiping an arm across his sweaty brow as he eased himself into the shade. He was carrying a large bottle of water in his other hand. Smacking his parched lips, he opened it up and slugged down a few refreshing swallows of the cool, clear liquid. “Ahhhh,” sighed Leona, as he leaned back against the trunk and closed the bottle up. The tip of his tongue went past his teeth and lapped at his lips. “Damn…it’s scorching today. I’m used to hot weather, but it’s still pretty warm…warmer than usual, I think.” A devious smirk crossed the lion’s face, and his scarred eye glistened with superior, sinister pleasure as he glanced back over his shoulder. His tail lifted and curled itself around one of his butt cheeks, cupping under its weight and lifting it slightly. “Must be absolutely broiling in there, for you,” he remarked. “Heh…try not to drown in all that sweat, if you can. Must be real-huh?” Leona’s eyes widened and his smirk faded as something shifted under his pants. He suddenly felt a shiver race up and down his spine and let out a shaky breath…as his rump visible jiggled and wobbled, as if it had a mind of its own. Finally, the lion’s fluttering eyes opened fully, and he chuckled as the motions stopped. “Well, whaddya know…you actually managed to wiggle free. Gotta admit, I’m almost impressed. Almost.” You couldn’t answer at first. You gasped and choked, desperately drinking in air that wasn’t reeking of lion sweat and musk. Your entire shrunken form was soaked in the same, your hair stuck to your brow, as your upper half dangled over the waistband of Leona’s athletic pants. It had been a lucky break: you had realized, while he had been exercising, that the looser fit gave you a chance to try and break free. The problem was…you hadn’t been given a proper chance. When the lion wasn’t sitting on a broomstick or an exercise bench, he was running or leaping. For all his talk of using mind over muscle, the athletic prince kept a good workout regiment. You felt delirious, loopy after huffing up the fumes of sweat and rump musk that built up over the day, and exponentially increased with the workout. Wiggling free from the lion’s rump and crawling your way upwards left you totally out of breath; it felt as if you’d been swimming against the flabby mounds. You looked up at Leona. You tried to look angry, but you had a feeling you weren’t succeeding; your face was still very red, both from your flustered status and how tired and hot you were. Combined with your sweaty disposition, and the way you so pathetically rested, unable to pull yourself free any further, not to mention how you winced as blessed daylight hit your eyes…you could understand the superior, self-confident smirk Leona was giving your rather pitiful form. “Enjoying our anniversary yet?” “You…are so…awful…” Leona just rolled his eyes. “Say that when you don’t look like a bruised tomato,” he snorted, and took another drink of water, closing his eyes as he relished the feeling of the cold drink descending his esophagus. He opened one eye when he heard a puppyish sound leave you, and smirked around the bottle top as he saw the longing look you gave to the bottle. He pulled it free from his lips and licked them, shaking it teasingly. “What’s the matter?” he mocked. “Thirsty? I’d think you’d be getting plenty to satisfy your thirst back there.” “Are you referring to your sweat, or just to a different kind of thirst?” “Yes,” Leona said, showing off his fangs. You just groaned. “When I get back to normal,” you threatened, “I’m going to spend a whole week waking you up early, whether you need it or not.” “I’m shaking in my sandals,” drawled Leona, then narrowed his glowing green eyes. “Besides, you seem to be under the impression I’ll LET you get back to normal.” You froze up and blinked up at the lion man. “Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” you squeaked, nervously. “Well, I COULD just crush you between my butt cheeks or let my ass smother you to death,” said Leona, shrugging carelessly and crossing his arms over his chest. His tail lifted up, the end of it twitching back and forth, like the pendulum of a clock. “No one would ever know what happened to you…no one but me. Then I could just gobble up your puny body, and digest the evidence. Heh…bet you’d end becoming part of my ass, too. So I guess, in a way…you’d never escape it. I think that sounds like a great way to finish our anniversary, don’t you?” You knew he was just teasing. At least…you certainly HOPED he was just teasing. With Leona Kingscholar, it was hard to tell. Regardless, you couldn’t help but whimper and cringe. Leona snickered, the sun glinting off his pearly fangs. “You’re way too easy,” he said. “And you’re a fatass and a meanie.” Leona looked bored. “Meanie? Seriously?” he droned. “What are you, five? Not even my nephew uses words like that…often…” “Meanie!” you snapped back, deliberately. You even stuck your tongue out, trying to annoy him with a bit of childishness. You had to get SOME small revenge after all this, after all. The attempt backfired, however, as Leona scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, you wanna be a brat?” he snorted. “Fine: just for that, you’ve lost your rights to air and sunlight…not that you ever had them in the first place. Get back in my ass!” Suddenly, the lion’s tail whipped down, and you yelped as the rope-like appendage worked to push you back into the prince’s pants. Your arms flailed and you let out a series of sputtering sounds as you fought to shove it away, but you failed. The tail twisted and turned, working like a snake to shove you into place. Once more, you found yourself sinking into the sweaty, musky, warm, cushioned folds of the fat ass crack. A final gasp was cut short as you were squelched back into place, the plump butt cheeks jiggling as the tail pulled free and lashed itself back to its proper state. Leona nodded to himself, firmly, finished his water, then tossed the bottle into a nearby trash bin before continuing his jog, leaving you helpless as you felt his rump bounce and grind around you with every movement of his powerful legs.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Afternoon was changing into evening when Leona finally arrived back at Savanaclaw. He yawned as he strolled through the halls of the oasis-like dorm, a cool breeze whistling through his sweat-stained locks. He walked with his eyes closed, hands behind his head, lazily sauntering along as his mind wandered. The housewarden was looking forward to a cool shower and a much-deserved catnap. His ears pricked up when he heard a pair of voices chattering ahead. “Still no sign of them?” “Not so far. You sure you didn’t see them in Ignihyde?” “Nope. Ortho scanned the whole dorm, said he couldn’t find any sign of them there.” “Well, why didn’t you ask him to scan the whole SCHOOL?” “...Oh, yeah. I guess I didn’t think of that.” “Do you ever think at all?” “HEY!” Kingscholar frowned and opened his unscarred eye. Ahead, he could see two familiar Heartslabyul students nervously bantering with one another, clearly out of place in Savanaclaw. “Alright, let’s be smart about this…after all, they can’t have disappeared into thin air,” sighed Ace Trappola “I dunno…at this point, it’s looking like they might have,” mumbled Deuce Spade, scratching the back of his head as he glanced about…then he noticed Leona. His eyes lit up and he waved the lion over. “Oi! Leona! Can we ask you a question?” “I think that counts,” Leona dryly replied, and tried to walk past the pair. “Hey! Don’t just ignore us!” yelled Ace. Leona stopped and glared back at them. He was quite annoyed. “Do you REALLY wanna get my attention that way, Trappola?” he growled warningly, baring his teeth and twitching his tail in irritation. “Sorry,” Ace apologized. “It’s just that we’re looking for the Prefect.” Leona’s tail twitch changed from one of irritation to one of self-gratified amusement. “Really?” he purred. “They were supposed to come help us with a study session earlier, but we haven’t seen them all day,” Deuce explained. “Since you’re in charge here, and since…well…you know…you ARE kinda their boyfriend? We were wondering if you would know where to look for them,” Ace added. Leona grinned widely. Oh, this was just too priceless. “I saw them briefly at PE,” he replied. “Since when do they take PE class with you?” frowned Ace, crinkling his nose, clearly confused. “I never said they did,” Leona reminded him. “I just said I saw them at that time.” “And you don’t know where they could be now?” Deuce checked again. “Psh. I’m not my Herbivore’s keeper. They’re a grown-ass human being, they can take care of themselves, don’tcha think?” “Sure, WE think that,” said Ace, now narrowing his eyes. “But since when did YOU think that?” Leona just yawned. “Is this interrogation over? I wanna get some sleep,” he growled, grouchily. “If you don’t have anything else to add,” shrugged Deuce, then looked at Ace. “C’mon, let’s see if maybe there’s a clue in Diasomnia. They’re pretty close to Malleus, after all.” “Well, we definitely won’t HEAR anything there…Sebek will yell our ears off, I just know it…” Leona chuckled as he watched the pair leave. “If that overgrown lizard has a hint, tell him thanks for keeping an eye on MY plaything,” he called mockingly. The Heartslabyul duo frowned back over their shoulders; they didn’t always like hearing Leona call you that…but they also weren’t TOO put off, as they simply and calmly left. Once they were gone, Leona smirked wider, eyes glowing with a somewhat evil gleam as he looked back over his shoulder and patted his warm, wide buttocks. They wobbled at his touch. “No one knows where you are, my pet,” he whispered, in a sultry, silky sort of way. “Nobody but me. How has it been, huh? Soaking up all my sweat and musk…feeling all my weight pound and squeeze around you…I bet when I take off these pants, I still won’t be able to even tell you’re in there.” He paused, caressing his rear end almost affectionately, a thoughtful, supreme look on his face. “I’m almost tempted to leave you in there. Forever. If it were physically possible, I absolutely would…let you live up my ass. No more daylight. No more air. Only me…all around you…completely and inescapably. No one would ever see you again; I could keep you to myself. My little plaything. My little rump toy.” He growled and flexed his fat cheeks hard; one could see the muscles tighten and bulge beneath the thickly-padded layers of ass cushioning, and dimly hear the keening, breathless sound as the ass tightened around your whole body, burying your face, your hands, every part of you in musky, grimy booty flab. “My. Little. Pet,” Leona said, his voice as dark as it was dominating. Still keeping his ass tightly clenched, he shifted his hips, the cheeks of his bottom grinding against each other like a pair of boulders. He bit his lip and moaned as he heard a desperate, scared, yet EXCITED noise come from your battered body…a little more pressure, and he could easily BREAK you…smother or smush you flat… …He relaxed with a shuddering sigh, and patted his butt…this time right over the crack, as if the pat was meant for you. Then, sashaying his hips happily, he strutted along again towards his room. By now, you were so dazed, lightheaded, and squashed till you ached that you barely qualified as conscious. You struggled for air in the hot, damp cleft of the lion’s rear end. The bouncing and swinging of his bottom had come to have an almost soporific effect, as you were thoroughly soaked in his odor and his moisture. You were beyond struggling, beyond even wriggling; you were no longer even sure if the voices of your friends had been real or imagined. As humiliating, hot, and horrid as it all was…you were blushing. In fact, you were even smiling. It wasn’t fair…it wasn’t FAIR how stupidly hormonally addled you were, or that he was so perfect he could play to those hormones almost without trying. Part of you hated all this…but more and more, you’d come to enjoy it. In a way, you were experiencing Leona’s day in a more intimate, attached way than most would ever find it possible. You might as well have been part of him…part of every step…part of every motion…honeyed thoughts that made it hard to feel angry, as the strength and pure power he displayed (with such crude methods, in more ways than one) was beginning to get you drunk. Or maybe you’d just been inhaling too much of his musk. Neither would be surprising. You were not freed till, suddenly, Leona removed his pants. You FELT it happen, and HEARD it; you didn’t actually see. You were lodged so deep inside his crack, you could not see even the thinnest line of light from the world beyond. So, when a familiar hand burrowed its way in, and pulled your soggy, limp body out, you were unprepared for the flash of surprisingly sterile light that shocked your eyes. When your vision became blurry, you found yourself staring at Leona’s handsome face. His expression was smug and amused, as usual…but there was a hint of affection there, as if seeing you so helpless and soppy, like a kitten dragged out of a rainstorm, was cute to him. You quickly realized that you were in his bathroom…that he was topless…and he was about to enter the shower. You immediately figured out “topless” was not ALL he was, and decided - against your less savory judgment - against looking down towards…certain areas. Ahem. “Heh. And I thought you were pathetic before,” mocked Leona, but the words carried a loving lilt, rather than a sharp bite. He sniffed the air, then grimaced. “Phew! Damn, you stink!” You tried to snipe back a snarky retort of, “Whose fault is that?!” You were so dizzy and so tired, however, all you could manage was a slurred response that vaguely sounded like, “Foosballs are flat.” The lion just smirked. “Didn’t catch a word of that. Try mumbling louder, and maybe I’ll actually care about what my ass sponge has to say,” he taunted. You could only groan. You weren’t sure you could physically blush any more, but your face found a way. Leona rolled his eyes. “Tch. Figures. Seriously, how kinky can you get?” he half-sneered. “I bet you’d like it if I actually did that, huh? Tied you to a scrub brush or something, used you to help clean up while I bathe? Ha! Don’t think I didn’t hear that squeak! You have some serious issues, you know that?” All you could respond with was a sort of weighty nod; you felt like there was a lead weight somewhere in your face, making it hard to raise your head, even as the sleepy dizziness continued to surround you. Leona shook his head with a snort, then a tenderness came to his scarred green eye as he held you in his palms and stepped into the shower, shutting the curtain. “Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time. For now, let’s get you cleaned up. You look like a sick rat,” he said. You certainly were not going to complain or argue. Leona cleaned you up during his shower, in-between rounds of washing his own luxurious mane, and rinsing the sweat and dust from his own tanned, beautiful body. You said nothing during the whole process, but throughout it, you found it hard not to laugh deliriously: you had never expected your first communal shower with your boyfriend to be like THIS.

“Oi. Cut that out and stop squirming. You’re gonna get soap in your mouth. Tch. I’d call you a pain in my ass, if you hadn’t felt so good back there…”

Even after being thoroughly disinfected - and dressed in a miniature pair of boxers, which…you felt it was best NOT to ask the origins of (you had a feeling they probably belonged to someone who was now PART of the butt you were so well acquainted with) - you still felt rather loopy after your experience. “Woozy?” teased Leona, noticing the way your body rocked and heaved in his palms as he approached the bed, wearing nothing but (a fresh, clean pair of) his own boxers once again. “I dunno if that’s the word,” you admitted honestly. “But I feel…whatever you feel after going on a Tilt-a-Whirl a few times too many. Except most Tilt-a-Whirls don’t smell like a lion’s butt…” “...Most?” “I went through a lot more than you know, back in my world.” Leona just chuffed with amusement. “Whatever. Bet most Tilt-a-Whirls don’t leave you looking like a beet for almost twelve hours straight either, huh?” Somehow, you found the strength to smirk with a hint of mischief all your own. “Most Tilt-a-Whirls aren’t drop-dead handsome princes, either,” you replied. Leona smirked. He was well-aware of his own rugged good looks…but something the way he seemed to purr indicated he was nevertheless always happy to hear somebody else comment on them. Especially you. You giggled softly as Leona lay on his bed and placed you on his bare belly, stretching his arms out behind his head. He raised the brow arched over his good eye expectantly. “Well? Do you want to rub it, or go inside it?” he growled. “Can’t I do both?” you chirruped. “You are literally the size of a rodent. I WILL eat you.” “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Leona sighed and dropped his head back on the pillow. “I liked it better when you were shoved up my ass,” he grumbled. You blushed, but still sniggered…yet you obligingly gave the overgrown cat-man the belly rub he desired, all the same. Leona’s smile became one of purest peace as he thumped his tail with satisfaction against the mattress, eyes closed as he enjoyed your tiny hands playing across his belly. “Mmmmmm…almost as good as your wriggling,” he mumbled. “Gee, thanks,” you drawled, sarcastically. Leona just purred in response, then opened his left eye. “So…how was it for you?” he asked. The words weren’t teasing or taunting. This time, it sounded like a sincere question. You hesitated, biting your lip…but finally answered slowly: “It was…um…hotter than Hades. In more ways than one.” Leona snorted with laughter and shut his eye. “Yep,” he grunted. “That’s about what I expected.” “There were moments I was almost afraid you might crush me, or that I might suffocate to death,” you admitted, very softly. Leona’s smile slackened. His eyes remained closed. “You really think I’d take it that far?” he asked, in an even sort of voice. “Honestly, some days I really don’t know,” you admitted, then patted his stomach with a smile. “But right now, it’s safe to say I trust you.” Leona purred a little louder at that. “Had to have been pretty nasty, judging by that funky smell when I let you go at last,” he rumbled. “Oh, it was,” you said. “Kinky little weirdo,” he muttered. “Trust me, you have NO idea,” you chuckled. “I think I do,” Leona said, dryly. “You’ve admitted just about every raunchy, random little fantasy pulsing in that head of yours to me by this point…how’d the reality match up to this one?” “If I say, ‘it was better than I expected,’ will you think I’m a freak?” “I ALREADY think you’re a freak,” Leona said, blandly…then added, with rare affection, “You just so happen to be MY freak.” You gave a blushing smile, and replied, “When I decide whether that’s a compliment or an insult, I’ll tell you what I think.” Leona shook his head in a weary sort of way. “I’m surprised you said that. You were trying to escape an awful lot, it seemed to me.” You stopped rubbing at those words. Leona scowled, looking irritated at those heavenly sensations stopping, but he didn’t scold you. Yet. “What’s wrong?” he asked, instead. “Don’t tell me you didn’t actually like it.” “At first…not really,” you confessed. “But as the day wore on, and throughout the whole experience…I couldn’t deny how…how…I don’t even know what the WORD is, but despite how gross it all was…I did like it. Like I said, it was one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced. Heh…not sure I wanna spend another WHOLE SCHOOL DAY in the back of your shorts, but…” You trailed off, shrugging one shoulder bashfully. Leona had the self-satisfied smile of a cat that had swallowed a canary. “I’ll keep all that in mind,” he said smoothly. “Great,” you mumbled. Leona chuckled, then a wicked grin crossed his face once more. “Before I clock out for a snooze - and I think you oughta do the same - there’s one more ‘special gift’ I have in store for you,” he said, devilishly. You half expected, in that moment, for him to pop you into his mouth and swallow you down. Given the greedy smile on his face, showing how much he enjoyed HAVING you, you would not have been surprised. But instead, after carefully plucking you up…Leona rolled over, laying on his belly, before dropping you on top of his pillowy posterior. He smirked over his shoulder as your hands and knees sank slightly into the fat of his warm, soft butt. “That’s your bed for tonight,” he said, in a rather firm voice. He yawned, then added, “If I feel you try to move off of it, then I will make you part of it. So try not to wriggle in your sleep too much, got it?” “G-Got it!” you squeaked. “Good,” said Leona, and yawned again. His expression softened as he lay his head on his pillow. His tail curled and flopped to one side, leaving his boxer-clad bottom completely exposed beneath you. He closed his eyes, nuzzling into the pillowcase. “Goodnight, Herbivore,” Leona mumbled tiredly. “Happy Anniversary.” Despite yourself, your own voice was light and tender as you replied, “Happy Anniversary, My King.” Leona’s ear twitched, but the only audible reaction he gave was a snore. In typical Kingscholar fashion, he had fallen asleep in scant seconds. Chuckling softly - and swearing your face would be permanently stained crimson, given how much blushing you’d done that day - you lay down and curled up like a kitten atop the right rump cheek of the lion man. By morning, you would awaken, your normal-sized head resting upon his ass cheek like a pillow…but for now, it was a mattress for your whole body. The musk had been replaced with a fresh, clean, almost floral scent, thanks to the recent shower…and the skin beneath his boxers felt smoother and softer, even more supple than before. It wasn’t long till you yawned, and found yourself drifting off to sleep as well. It hadn’t exactly been a conventional anniversary, at least for you… …But as slumber took ahold of your mind, you could already say you were going to dream about how great next year might be. You would say you were looking forward to it…but, under the circumstances, it was better to say you were looking BEHIND. …Oh, come now. How ELSE would you imagine this writer to end such foolery as this? He has to have SOME fun.

The (Rear) End

#kink fic #fanfic #disney #twisted wonderland #leona #leona kingscholar #butt entrapment #rump smothering #butt crushing #macro/micro #implied vore

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