#aka keep up with the chaos

[stace-piiilgrim]

I’m gone for about a week and I come to find that there is pure chaos going on with the Gideons

WELP I KNOW WHAT IM GOING TO BE DOING ON MY DAYS OFF!

[lixbf]

ive been playing so much hades 2 atp i feel like the first Big early access patch is gonna legit change my life....

[orcelito]

Another morning another day

I've been thinking a lot about going to the animal shelter

[solxamber]

How to Tame Your Dragon - Malleus Draconia x reader

Since you and Malleus have gotten into a relationship, you've become a bona-fide dragon soother. But whenever you fumble, the entirety of NRC faces the consequences.

aka the 7 times you cause ecological disasters and the 1 time it works out for you.

this is one of my favorite works i hope y'all enjoy it too

Instance 1: The Unbirthday Party Fumble

It all started so innocently, as most disasters do.

You were sitting on a bench in the gardens with Malleus, who was in one of his "look at my shiny things" moods. He had decided to show you his prized possessions from his extensive, possibly cursed, hoard. Usually, this was an easy gig. You’d nod, say something like “Wow, so shiny,” and then give him a kiss. Easy peasy.

But not today.

Because today, your brain decided to take a little vacation while your body stayed behind, stuck on autopilot.

You were half-paying attention, your focus more on the distant ruckus over at Heartslabyul’s tea party, where Ace and Deuce were most definitely in the middle of doing something stupid. Riddle was probably screaming about proper fork placement, Trey was juggling a thousand responsibilities, and Cater was... doing whatever Cater does.

You could hear the faint sounds of plates clinking and people panicking about the sugar cubes being uneven. It was practically a symphony of disaster waiting to happen.

Meanwhile, Malleus was holding up what looked like a teapot. But not just any teapot—this thing was ornate. Gleaming, intricate patterns, probably blessed by some ancient fae god of beverages. You didn’t notice any of that, though.

Instead, when Malleus asked in his deep, romantic, “I’m-giving-you-a-piece-of-my-soul” voice, “Do you like it, my treasure?” you waved him off like he’d just shown you a half-eaten sandwich.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Looks fine.”

Silence.

Not just any silence. The kind of silence where the air pressure changes and you suddenly realize you might’ve done something very, very bad.

You blinked, finally looking over at Malleus, and oh no. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pursed, and a shadow seemed to fall over him—literally. The sky darkened as if the heavens were in on his mood. His grip on the teapot tightened, and you could swear the wind started to howl.

Oh, no no no.

The moment you realized your mistake, the storm was already brewing. Quite literally. The sky went from clear to “about to smite someone” in about two seconds flat. You could feel the temperature drop, and leaves started swirling around like they were auditioning for a role in a natural disaster movie.

You were in for it now.

Meanwhile, at the world’s most cursed tea party:

Riddle was just getting ready to pour the first cup of tea when the wind decided to yeet the tablecloth right off the table. Teacups clattered, pastries took flight, and the entire garden descended into chaos.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE QUEEN’S LAWS—” Riddle screamed, clutching a teapot like it was his last lifeline.

Ace, currently dodging a rogue scone, looked over at the sky. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. Is this a Malleus thing?”

Deuce, who was using a sugar bowl as a makeshift helmet, shouted over the wind. “It’s always a Malleus thing! Why do I even ask anymore?!”

Cater, hair blown sideways and desperately trying to keep his phone in hand, was trying to snap a selfie in the chaos. “Guys, this is prime MagiCam content—wait, no, my phone’s gone!” He dove after it as it got carried away in the wind.

Riddle, already on the verge of a meltdown, turned to Trey, who was trying to shield a cake from the incoming storm. “I demand an explanation!”

Trey, forever the calm one, glanced up. “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say the prefect did something to upset Malleus.”

“OF COURSE, THEY DID,” Riddle shrieked, practically levitating with fury. “Why do we suffer every time they breathe near him?!”

“I don’t know, but we need to fix it before Riddle explodes!” Ace said, dodging a flying plate.

Deuce grabbed Ace’s arm. “We need to talk to them! Make them apologize or something!”

And so, in the middle of the flying teapots and pastries of doom, the group sprinted to find you, dodging airborne desserts and Riddle’s wrath.

Back at the epicenter of destruction:

You were still sitting there, eyes wide as you watched Malleus literally brood so hard it summoned a small hurricane. “Uh, Malleus…?”

He didn’t respond. Nope, he was fully in Pouty Dragon Mode™. The sky darkened even more, the wind howling, the trees bending, and you could faintly hear the sound of Ace, Deuce, and the others screaming in the distance.

Your casual dismissal of the teapot had, quite literally, ruined lives.

Before you could say anything else, the chaos squad came barreling toward you like a human avalanche, looking like they’d been through a war zone.

Ace was covered in frosting, Deuce had bits of shattered china stuck in his hair, and Trey was holding onto what looked like the remnants of a cake stand. Cater was still trying to get a selfie in, even though he looked like he’d been through a tornado.

“FIX. THIS.” Ace wheezed, dropping to his knees dramatically. “BEFORE WE ALL DIE.”

“Riddle’s about to combust,” Deuce added, his eyes wide. “Please. We’re begging you.”

Trey just gave you a calm look. “If you don’t make this right soon, I don’t know if we’ll make it to the end of the day.”

You sighed, realizing there was no escape. You’d have to face the storm—literally—and make things right.

Turning back to Malleus, you slid off the bench and stood in front of him, gently tugging on his sleeve. “Malleus?”

His eyes, still stormy, met yours, but he didn’t say anything. The wind continued to howl, the sky still dark.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, your voice soft and apologetic. “I didn’t mean to dismiss your teapot. It’s beautiful, really. I was just…distracted.”

Malleus’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the wind died down just a little. Progress.

“I’d never intentionally dismiss something that’s important to you,” you continued, taking his hand in yours. “Please forgive me? I’ll pay more attention next time, I promise.”

The storm finally started to calm as Malleus’s expression softened. The sky cleared up, and the wind turned into a gentle breeze.

He sighed dramatically, though it was more theatrical than anything. “Very well, my treasure. I suppose I can forgive you this time. But you owe me proper attention.”

Relieved, you grinned and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “How about I give you all the attention you want right now?”

That did it. The storm completely vanished, and Malleus’s mood visibly brightened. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a possessive, yet affectionate embrace. “I suppose that’s acceptable,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head.

Behind you, the chaos squad groaned.

“Oh, sure,” Ace said, rolling his eyes. “One cute kiss, and suddenly the hurricane stops. What even is our life?”

“Let’s just never bring up teapots again,” Deuce muttered, shaking bits of pastry out of his hair.

Cater, who had finally managed to get a decent selfie, grinned. “Well, at least we survived!”

You chuckled as Malleus nuzzled into your hair, clearly pleased with your apology. At least for now, disaster had been averted. But something told you that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d have to apologize for accidentally setting off your dragon boyfriend.

But hey, at least you had kisses to fix everything, right?

Instance 2: The compliment conundrum

It started as one of those innocent slip-ups—the kind that makes you wonder why you even opened your mouth in the first place. You were lounging by the side of the spelldrive field, watching NRC’s teams practice. Malleus, busy handling his own royal duties, hadn’t been able to make it to practice today, so you’d spent the afternoon watching Leona and his squad dominate the field.

It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong. You were just… appreciating talent, right? And Leona was talented. You couldn’t help but admire the way he effortlessly dodged tackles, sending spells whizzing through the air with precision. The guy was annoying, sure, but he had undeniable skill.

So when you casually mentioned to Jack and Ruggie, “Man, Leona’s got some impressive moves,” you thought nothing of it.

Until you felt the ground crack beneath you.

You froze mid-sentence, glancing around as a creeping, eerie silence settled over the field. The other players stopped in their tracks, confusion spreading across their faces. The once lush, green training grounds were slowly transforming before your very eyes—the grass yellowing, the soil drying, the sky dimming. It was like nature had collectively decided, Nope, we’re out.

Jack blinked at the ground, then at you, his eyes wide with dawning horror. “Did… Did you just—?”

Ruggie, a master of putting two and two together, slapped his hand to his face. “Oh, no. Not again.”

Before you could even ask what was happening, you heard the faintest sound of rumbling in the distance, like some ancient, angry being had woken up from its nap. And that’s when the full weight of your mistake hit you.

You’d praised Leona. And Malleus, who was more possessive than a dragon guarding his hoard, definitely heard you.

“Oh, crap,” you muttered, already starting to backpedal. “Oh, crap, crap, crap—”

The drought spread faster, draining every last drop of moisture from the air. The once-pristine spelldrive field now looked like a scene out of some post-apocalyptic desert movie. Cracks snaked across the ground, the once-refreshing breeze now felt like it was straight out of the Sahara, and the remaining players started wheezing from the dry heat.

Leona, of course, was the first to piece things together. He sauntered over, glancing at the parched earth beneath his feet, then back up at you with a deadly glare.

You tried to stammer out an excuse, but Ruggie was already grabbing your arm and yanking you toward the nearest path off the field. Jack, looking somewhere between worried and resigned, trailed after you.

“Listen,” Ruggie said in a panic, “we gotta fix this now, or the whole school’s gonna turn into a wasteland.”

“I didn’t mean to!” you protested as they half-dragged you across the desertified landscape. “It was just a compliment!”

“You can’t just compliment Leona when you’re dating Malleus!” Jack huffed, sweat dripping from his forehead as the oppressive heat intensified. “You should know better by now!”

You felt a bead of sweat trickle down your temple as you tried to keep up with their frantic pace. “I didn’t know he was that possessive!”

“Oh, he is,” Ruggie muttered, glancing nervously at the sky. “And he’s sulking. You know what that means.”

You groaned. Yes, you did know what that meant. A sulking Malleus equaled world-ending storms, natural disasters, and in this case—apocalyptic droughts.

Leona, who had followed you guys, clearly had enough of this nonsense. He stomped up behind you, glaring daggers. “You’ve ruined my field,” he growled, voice dripping with irritation. “Do me a favor and never say anything nice about me again.”

“Don’t worry, Leona,” you sighed, exasperated. “I’ll only insult you from now on. Promise.”

“Good,” Leona grumbled, adjusting his collar. “Now fix your dragon before I lose my mind.”

By the time you reached Malleus, the situation had reached catastrophic levels. The entire island felt like it was one sunny day away from turning into a desert. The sky was an angry, cloudless blue, and even the birds had fled, probably deciding they didn’t want to risk spontaneous combustion.

And there, in the middle of the courtyard, sat your dragon boyfriend, arms crossed, looking as grumpy as you’d ever seen him. His aura was practically radiating misery.

“Malleus,” you called out, panting from the trek across the sun-baked campus.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge your presence, but didn’t say a word. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed, and you could practically see the pout written all over his face.

Ruggie gave you a light shove. “Well, go on. Apologize before we all die of thirst.”

You shot him a look, but he wasn’t wrong. Sighing, you stepped closer to Malleus and knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Hey… I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He huffed, his gaze fixed stubbornly ahead. “You praised another.”

“I didn’t realize it was such a big deal,” you said softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it. I only have eyes for you, you know that.”

Malleus remained silent for a moment, but you could feel his mood softening. The tension in the air eased ever so slightly, the heat less intense, the grass no longer crumbling beneath your feet.

“I don’t like sharing your admiration,” he murmured, still not quite looking at you. “Especially with him.”

“Leona’s not a threat,” you chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “He’s too busy napping to notice, anyway.”

That earned a tiny smirk from Malleus, though he was clearly still in sulk mode. You couldn’t help but smile as you nuzzled into his neck, placing little butterfly kisses along his jawline. “Come on… I’ll make it up to you. I’ll praise you for hours if you want. No one is more worthy of my compliments than you.”

That finally did the trick. His stiff posture relaxed, and he let out a deep sigh. “Very well,” he murmured, turning his head to look at you. “I suppose I can forgive you… this time.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his chest. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Malleus, now fully basking in your affection, wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on top of your head. The sky finally returned to normal, the air cooling down, and the earth itself seemed to let out a relieved sigh.

Meanwhile, back on the now-saved-from-death spelldrive field, Leona collapsed onto the cracked ground with an annoyed grunt. “I swear, if they ever break up, I’m moving to a different continent.”

“Honestly, same,” Ruggie groaned, lying down beside him. Jack just nodded in agreement, too tired to even complain.

But as the world finally returned to normal, and you cuddled up against your not-so-grumpy-anymore dragon boyfriend, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—you’d be more careful with your compliments from now on.

…Maybe.

Instance 3: Dinner Downpour

It had started out as an innocent evening. Just you, Malleus, and a nice dinner at the Mostro Lounge. You figured it was a good idea—a cozy meal, some quiet time away from the usual chaos. Plus, Malleus had never been to the Lounge before, and you wanted to show him a little piece of what passed for fine dining at NRC.

Everything was going smoothly. The candlelight cast a soft glow over the table, and Malleus seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he occasionally side-eyed the giant aquariums and questionable dishes swimming in ink. You were halfway through your meal when it happened. The moment that would soon be known as The Great Mostro Lounge Flood of the Century.

Malleus, eyes warm and his tone utterly princely, leaned toward you as the waiter left the bill on the table. “Allow me to cover this,” he said, reaching for his wallet—or whatever it was that dragons carry their horde in. “I would like to treat you.”

You, not sensing the danger, waved him off with a smile. “No need, Malleus. I’ve got this.”

Oh no.

If you could rewind time, maybe you would’ve noticed the way his expression faltered ever so slightly. The tiniest furrow of his brow, the faint tightening of his grip on his silverware. But you didn’t. You were oblivious. You, poor unfortunate soul, paid the bill yourself.

And that’s when the first clap of thunder rolled through the building.

It didn’t take long for things to go from zero to we’re-all-gonna-die levels of chaos. The sky outside darkened almost instantly, rain pouring down like the heavens had just decided to empty all their buckets at once. But it wasn’t just rain—oh no, this was a full-blown, hurricane-tier downpour. Lightning flashed, illuminating the shocked faces of the Mostro Lounge patrons as water started seeping in through the windows.

Inside, chaos erupted. The once-elegant ambiance of the Mostro Lounge turned into something out of a disaster movie. Jade was frantically trying to keep the dining area dry with what looked like twenty towels, but the water just kept rising. Floyd was sitting on top of a table, cackling at the sheer absurdity of it all, while Azul was on the verge of a mental breakdown, clutching his ledger to his chest as if it could somehow save him from bankruptcy.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Azul’s voice broke through the chaos as he practically teleported to your side, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you like a maraca.

“I—I don’t know!” you stammered, still processing the fact that the place was flooding. “We were just having dinner!”

“Oh, you were ‘just having dinner,’” Azul mocked, his voice climbing an octave as the water level rose past your ankles. “Sure, just dinner—and now I’m watching my profits swim away!”

Jade appeared next, a suspiciously calm smile on his face despite the absolute catastrophe around him. “You didn’t happen to upset the prince of Briar Valley, did you?”

Floyd leaned in, grinning like a maniac. “Yeah, did ya snub him or somethin’? This is hilarious.”

Your face paled. Oh no. You replayed the scene in your head—the offer to pay, your refusal—and realization hit you like one of the lightning bolts currently striking outside. “Oh my god. He’s upset because I didn’t let him pay.”

“That’s it?!” Floyd burst out laughing, clutching his sides. “All this ‘cause you didn’t let him foot the bill? Man, that’s rich!”

Azul’s eye twitched. “Fix. This. Now.”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!” you protested, feeling the water slosh against your calves as the storm outside intensified. “I just wanted to treat him for once!”

“Clearly, that was a mistake,” Jade said, entirely too serene for someone standing in knee-deep water. “I suggest you… rectify it.”

“Rectify it,” Azul echoed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Or I swear I’ll have you and your little dragon both in debt until you’re ancient fossils.”

Floyd, still howling with laughter, gave you a light shove toward the entrance. “Better hurry, Shrimpy, before we gotta start charging people for canoe rentals!”

You rushed outside, braving the storm as the winds whipped around you. The ground was already flooded, rain pelting down so hard you could barely see two feet in front of you. But there, standing in the middle of it all like some tragic figure from a gothic romance novel, was Malleus.

He wasn’t even trying to shield himself from the rain—he just stood there, soaked, staring up at the stormy sky as if summoning the wrath of the heavens. His mood was palpable, the air around him crackling with discontent.

“Malleus!” you called out, running over and nearly slipping in a puddle. “Malleus, wait!”

He glanced down at you, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes quickly masked by his usual regal composure. “I thought… I could treat you. It seems you do not trust me to do even that.”

You winced. He wasn’t angry, not really. He was hurt. You should’ve known better—Malleus was always thinking about how to show you he cared, and this was just one more way for him to do that. And you’d brushed him off without realizing the significance.

“Hey, that’s not it at all,” you said softly, stepping closer and taking his hands in yours. “I just… I wanted to treat you this time. But I didn’t realize how important it was to you.”

The storm rumbled ominously overhead, but you could feel his mood starting to shift.

You squeezed his hands, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sorry, Malleus. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t appreciate it. You always take such good care of me.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension easing from his posture. “I simply wished to show you how much I treasure our time together.”

“And I treasure you,” you said, giving him a gentle smile. “So how about this—I’ll let you treat me next time. Dinner, ice cream, whatever you want. You’re in charge.”

The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “You promise?”

“I promise,” you replied, kissing him again for good measure. “But for now, maybe we could, uh… ease up on the weather a bit? I think Azul’s about to have a heart attack.”

Malleus chuckled softly, the storm clouds above beginning to break apart as the rain slowed to a drizzle. “Very well. I shall spare them—for now.”

Back inside the Lounge, Azul was clinging to his precious ledger like a lifeline, watching with wide eyes as the floodwaters slowly receded. The place was still a soaked mess, but at least it wasn’t Atlantis anymore.

Floyd, leaning against the bar, gave you a lazy grin as you walked back in, hand-in-hand with Malleus. “Well, looks like you managed to cool down your dragon, huh? Good job, Shrimpy.”

Jade smiled pleasantly, though you could tell there was relief in his gaze. “The Lounge owes you a great debt.”

Azul, drenched and looking like he’d aged ten years, just sighed. “Please. Next time… just let him pay.”

You grinned sheepishly. “Noted.”

Malleus, still holding your hand, glanced down at you with a fond expression. “Shall we continue our evening?”

You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his affection, even if he had almost accidentally drowned the entire restaurant. “Yeah, let’s go.”

And as you left the Mostro Lounge, water still dripping from the ceiling and Floyd’s laughter echoing behind you, you couldn’t help but think that for all the chaos that came with dating the prince of Briar Valley, it was worth every second.

Instance 4: Deserted Dreams

It all started with an innocent suggestion over breakfast. You and Malleus were sitting at your usual spot in Diasomnia, peacefully munching on breakfast. Things were nice, calm—Malleus was in a good mood, the sun was shining, and there hadn’t been any catastrophic magical incidents for a solid two days.

But, of course, you just had to ruin it.

"So," you said, casually buttering a slice of toast, "I was thinking… maybe for our next vacation, instead of going to Briar Valley again, we could head over to the Scalding Sands? I heard Kalim raving about the heat and all the festivals, and I thought it might be fun to experience a little warmth for a change."

Malleus, who had been sipping his tea, froze. He looked at you, his eyes wide and a bit too intense. "The Scalding Sands?" he repeated slowly.

"Yeah, you know—sun, sand, maybe a beach or two. Something different!" You smiled, clearly not reading the massive red flags flying in the air. "I mean, don’t get me wrong, Briar Valley is great and all, but we always go there. I thought a change of scenery would be nice!"

And that, was when the Dorms of Scarabia and Diasomnia turned into a hellish desert wasteland.

It started slowly—just a bit of extra heat creeping into the room, making you fidget in your seat. Then it escalated. The temperature spiked dramatically, and before you knew it, the dorm felt like someone had thrown open the gates to the underworld and invited the sun to personally burn it all down. You swore you could hear the sound of sand shifting beneath your feet, though you were still indoors. Indoors, for crying out loud!

Malleus sat in silence, clearly displeased. His usual dark, moody aura was now tinged with the kind of slow-boiling frustration that made you realize: you’d made a huge mistake.

Just as you were about to apologize and backpedal your way out of the desertification of Diasomnia and Scarabia, a loud crash echoed from outside, followed by a chorus of complaints.

You stepped out of the dorm and were met with chaos. The whole area around Diasomnia had transformed into an arid, sweltering desert. The grass? Gone. The trees? Withered. The nice, cool breeze that used to blow through? Now replaced by blistering heat waves. Students were dragging themselves around, sweating profusely as the once lush grounds became a scorching wasteland.

At the heart of the chaos stood Kalim, as cheerful as ever, while a very sweaty and very done Jamil stood nearby, looking like he had reached the end of his rope.

Jamil spotted you immediately and marched over, steam practically rising off his skin. “What did you do?!” he hissed, looking like he was five seconds away from spontaneous combustion.

"I—" you stammered, glancing at Kalim, who was happily waving a fan like he was at a resort.

"Isn’t this great?!" Kalim chirped, smiling ear to ear. "It feels just like home! Now we can have all the desert parties we want! Thanks for the heatwave!"

You blinked. "Um… you’re welcome?"

"No," Jamil interjected, glaring at you like you’d personally set him on fire. “Don’t thank them! What possessed you to turn Scarabia into a furnace?!”

You grimaced, wiping sweat from your brow. “It’s not my fault! I just suggested we vacation in the Scalding Sands instead of Briar Valley and—"

"You did what?!" Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. "So because you didn’t want to vacation in Briar Valley, this happens? Do you know how long it’s going to take to get the dorm back to normal? Or the fact that I’m now stuck babysitting Kalim in what feels like the surface of the sun?"

Kalim, still oblivious to the suffering around him, beamed. “You should make up with Malleus! Then maybe we can have two vacations!”

Jamil’s eye twitched.

It didn’t take long before you were escorted (dragged) back to Malleus, courtesy of a very sunburned Jamil and a still-chipper Kalim. They deposited you at the door to Diasomnia, giving you the kind of look that screamed fix this, or we’ll make you regret it.

Sighing, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. Unsurprisingly, it was even hotter indoors than it had been outside. Malleus was sitting in the corner of the common room, his arms crossed and his gaze distant, like he was contemplating the deep mysteries of life—or brooding over your vacation suggestion. Probably the latter.

“Malleus?” you called softly, approaching him carefully as the air around him practically sizzled with residual magic.

He didn’t respond, still looking like a dragon that had just been told his gold stash was getting replaced with copper coins.

You sighed and knelt down in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you said, resting a hand on his knee. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just thought it’d be nice to see a new place, but if you want to go back to Briar Valley, that’s totally fine. We can go wherever you want.”

Malleus blinked, finally looking down at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “You wished to travel somewhere unfamiliar,” he murmured, his voice low. “I should have taken your desires into account. But… the thought of you preferring another land over mine… it unsettled me.”

You blinked. “Wait, is that what this is about? Malleus, I love Briar Valley! I just wanted to try something new, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to go back. We could go anywhere, and I’d be happy as long as I’m with you.”

He softened even more, the heat in the room fading as his magic began to relax. “You mean that?”

You smiled and leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Of course I do.”

His arms, once tense, reached out to pull you into his lap, holding you close as if the idea of you slipping away to some other land without him had weighed far too heavily on his mind. You snuggled into him, feeling the last traces of heatwave melt away into nothing but warmth and comfort.

Malleus nuzzled his face into your hair, his voice a soft rumble. “Then we shall go wherever your heart desires. As long as we are together.”

You chuckled, pressing another kiss to his jaw. “Okay, deal. But, uh, maybe we avoid any more heatwave-related disasters? Jamil might actually combust next time.”

Malleus chuckled softly, his mood lightening as he held you close. “Very well. I shall spare them from further torment… this time.”

And as you cuddled into him, the remnants of the desert wasteland outside slowly returning to normal, you couldn’t help but think that as long as you had Malleus (and could keep him happy), the world—weather catastrophes included—would be just fine.

Instance 5: Fashion Fiasco

You and Malleus were at one of Vil’s fashion shows, sitting in the audience with everyone else as Vil strutted his stuff on the runway, looking absolutely flawless as per usual. The lights sparkled, the music boomed, and Vil practically radiated beauty and grace in an outfit that could only be described as something plucked straight from a dream.

"Wow," you breathed, eyes wide as you watched Vil pose dramatically at the end of the runway. "Vil really does look amazing, doesn’t he? Like, how is anyone supposed to compete with that level of perfection?"

Malleus, sitting beside you, went absolutely still.

It didn’t register right away. You were too busy marveling at Vil’s next ensemble to notice Malleus stiffening beside you, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. But as the next model waltzed down the runway, you felt a sudden chill in the air. Literally.

You blinked. Was it just you, or was it… colder? You glanced up at the ceiling, frowning as tiny snowflakes started to drift down from nowhere. The air grew icy, your breath visible as the temperature plummeted in mere seconds.

"What the—" You stood up, just in time to see the entire fashion show being transformed into a literal winter wonderland. Snow was now falling heavily, frosting over the runway, the lights, and, most importantly, Vil’s perfect hair.

The shriek that followed was one of pure, unbridled horror.

“No! My HAIR!” Vil screeched, desperately clutching his head as snowflakes clung to his golden locks, which were slowly wilting under the weight of the ice. “This is a disaster!”

Models fled the scene, their designer clothes dragging through snowdrifts that were rapidly accumulating on stage. The music cut off, the audience panicked, and Vil looked like he was about five seconds away from declaring the end of the world.

Amidst the chaos, Rook Hunt stood in the middle of the snowy storm, spinning in circles with glee. “Magnifique!” he cried, twirling with open arms as if he were auditioning for a Broadway production of Frozen. “The raw beauty of nature meets the elegance of fashion��oh, how the world has blessed us with this miracle of frost!”

“ROOK!” Vil screeched again, eyes wide and wild as he tried—and failed—to maintain some sense of composure. “This is NOT a miracle! This is a CATASTROPHE! My show—my hair!”

Epel, looking somewhere between terrified and confused, rushed up to you, nearly slipping on the snow-covered floor in his haste. “We need your help!” he gasped, grabbing your arm and shaking it with the desperation of someone who knew what was at stake here. “You have to do something! Malleus is causing the storm!”

You blinked, still processing the fact that this wasn’t just some freak weather event but a full-on emotional meltdown from your very moody fae boyfriend.

“Malleus is… mad?” you asked, finally connecting the dots.

“Of course he’s mad!” Epel huffed, snowflakes clinging to his own purple hair. “You complimented Vil! Now he thinks you like Vil more than him! We’re all gonna freeze to death if you don’t fix it!”

“Oh… oh no.”

It took a few minutes (and a shove from a panicked Vil) to find Malleus, who had retreated to the far corner of the room, looking like a grumpy snow dragon with his arms crossed and snowflakes swirling around him. His expression was dark, brooding, and way too dramatic for someone who was causing a blizzard in the middle of a fashion show.

You approached cautiously, trying not to slip on the ice that was now coating the floor. “Malleus?” you called softly, inching closer. “Are you… okay?”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I see you were quite taken with Vil’s appearance today.”

You blinked, a bit thrown off by the sheer seriousness in his tone. “Uh, I mean… yeah, Vil’s always beautiful. But, um, you know that’s just how he is. It’s his whole thing.”

Malleus’s frown deepened. “So you find him more beautiful than me.”

Oh. Oh.

You nearly facepalmed at the realization. “Malleus, no, that’s not what I meant!” you rushed to say, waving your hands in a flustered manner. “Vil is beautiful, but you—you’re, like, otherworldly! You know, fae beauty and all that. No one could possibly compare!”

Malleus eyed you warily, his lips pursed. “So… you do not prefer him over me?"

“Of course not!” you said quickly, stepping closer to place a hand on his arm. “You’re the most beautiful person I know. No one comes close to your level of magnificence, I swear.”

There was a long, heavy pause. Then, ever so slowly, the storm began to die down. The snowflakes stopped falling, the icy chill in the air dissipated, and the temperature returned to normal. Malleus’s expression softened, his moody sulk fading as he looked down at you with a much gentler gaze.

“Is that truly how you feel?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

You smiled up at him, standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Of course, Malleus. You’re my favorite, always.”

Malleus visibly brightened at that, his usual regal aura returning as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a warm embrace. “Very well, then. I shall forgive this transgression. But only because you have reassured me of your affections.”

You giggled, snuggling into his chest. “I’ll make sure to tell you more often how beautiful you are.”

Vil then walks directly up to you and stares you down. "If you're done wrecking my show, could ypu please keep your dragon in check?"

All you can do is grin sheepishly at him.

Instance 6: Gaming Shenanigans

It all started because of that one last raid. You and Idia were deep in an epic gaming marathon, tackling a boss so difficult that even Idia—self-proclaimed gaming god—had to break out his limited-edition controller. It was all good fun, hours flying by without you even noticing, as you spammed attacks and worked together like the perfect gaming duo you were.

That is, until Idia hit you with a question that made your stomach drop.

"So, uh, aren't you supposed to, like... do something tonight?" Idia asked, mid-battle. His voice was a little too casual, almost like he already knew the answer but was waiting for you to figure it out yourself.

You froze for a split second, still pressing buttons but no longer fully paying attention. Something... tonight? What could he—

Oh no.

You had plans tonight. With Malleus.

Specifically, your nightly walks around campus, which had become somewhat of a ritual. Every night, you’d stroll through the darkened grounds, hand-in-hand, talking about anything and everything. It was Malleus’s favorite part of the day—something he eagerly looked forward to.

And you’d… forgotten.

Your eyes darted to your phone, which was lying face down on the desk, completely ignored for the last several hours. You didn’t even need to check it to know what you’d find: missed calls, unread messages, probably a voicemail or two from Malleus, wondering where you were.

"Oh no," you whispered, voice barely audible over the sounds of explosions and battle cries on screen.

"Wait, what?" Idia’s character paused for a second as he glanced at you. "Did you just say 'oh no'? What 'oh no'? Are we talking minor 'oh no' or, like, 'I've-angered-a-final-boss-oh-no'?"

You gulped, heart sinking as you realized just how much trouble you were in. "Um... the second one. Definitely the second one."

Before Idia could even react, the room went dark. The power cut out so fast, you barely had time to process it. The glow of the screens, the hum of electronics—all gone, leaving only the soft pitter-patter of rain against the window.

Idia's horrified gasp echoed through the sudden silence.

"No. No, no, no, no, no—this can’t be happening! We were in the middle of a raid!” His hands flew to his hair, the blue flames flickering wildly as panic set in. "Dude, you forgot your dragon?!"

The color drained from your face as the gravity of the situation fully hit. “I—um—got distracted?”

Idia’s eyes widened, and he stood up so fast his chair rolled backwards. "Distracted?! You forgot about your nightly walks with the dragon fae, and now we’re sitting in a power outage caused by his emotional spiral?!”

In the faint glow of Idia’s flame-lit hair, you saw Ortho zip into the room, looking far too calm given the circumstances. “I detected a sudden shift in weather patterns around campus. It seems like the storm has caused a widespread blackout. Should I assume it’s related to Malleus Draconia’s emotional state?”

"YES!" Idia practically screeched, pointing at you in betrayal. "They ditched Malleus for gaming, and now we’re all suffering the consequences! Ortho, tell them to fix it, please! I beg you!”

Ortho turned to you with his usual chipper smile. “I suggest you go to Malleus and make amends before the entire campus loses power. I’ve already calculated a 98% chance that further emotional distress will result in structural damage to the dorm.”

Idia groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is why you never piss off boss-level boyfriends. It’s just common sense.”

So, that’s how you found yourself trudging through the stormy night, rain soaking your clothes as you made your way to find Malleus. The lightning flashed overhead, thunder rumbling ominously as you approached the usual meeting spot for your nightly walks.

And there he was—standing alone, looking very much like the picture of heartbreak. His tall figure was framed by the pouring rain, his expression a perfect blend of hurt and brooding. The storm seemed to swirl around him, almost as if it were a physical manifestation of his emotions.

“Malleus,” you called out, rushing toward him, your voice barely audible over the sound of rain. “I’m so sorry!”

He turned slowly, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “You did not answer my calls.”

“I know, I know! I got caught up in a game with Idia, and I didn’t check my phone, and—well, now we have a blackout.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly, his gaze softening just a fraction. “You left me waiting, and the storm came.”

You winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to forget about our walk. I love spending time with you—I swear.”

Malleus let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “I do not wish to be a burden to you.”

“Burden?” you echoed, stepping closer until you were right in front of him, the rain pouring down between you. “Malleus, you’re not a burden. I love our walks. I love spending time with you. I just… lost track of time. That’s all.”

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound being the rain hitting the ground. Then, to your surprise, Malleus looked away, a faint hint of vulnerability in his expression. “Do you… truly mean that?”

Without thinking, you reached up, gently cupping his face in your hands. “Of course I do. There’s no one I’d rather be with.”

Malleus’s gaze softened further, and slowly—so slowly—the storm began to quiet. The rain lessened, the wind died down, and the oppressive atmosphere that had settled over the campus lifted. He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face as if looking for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he finally let out a soft chuckle, the corners of his mouth turning up in a faint smile.

“You always manage to calm me,” he murmured, leaning into your touch.

You smiled back, feeling warmth spread through your chest despite the cold rain. “I guess I’m just good at soothing dragons.”

Malleus raised a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Perhaps.”

The rain had stopped entirely by now, leaving only a light mist in the air. You let out a relieved sigh, brushing some stray raindrops off Malleus’s cheek before standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I’ll never forget our walks again,” you whispered against his lips, earning a quiet hum of approval from him.

“I shall hold you to that,” he replied, his voice warm with affection. “Now, shall we take that walk?”

You nodded, intertwining your fingers with his. The world felt calmer now, the storm gone, replaced by the soft glow of moonlight breaking through the clouds. Malleus’s mood had lifted entirely, and as the two of you strolled through the now-quiet campus, you couldn’t help but feel content.

And, of course, Idia and Ortho’s screens flickered back to life, much to their relief.

Instance 7: Dessert Disaster

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and you were about to partake in a picnic with none other than Malleus, Lilia, Silver, and Sebek. Everything was perfect. The blanket was laid out beneath a sprawling tree, food arranged carefully across it—courtesy of Malleus himself, who had spent hours in the kitchen the night before, preparing what he considered to be the pièce de résistance: a pie.

Not just any pie. No, this was a Malleus Draconia-crafted masterpiece. The filling was made from rare berries he’d harvested himself, the crust baked to a perfect golden brown. You could practically smell the love (and maybe a little lightning) that had gone into it.

Malleus, with a glint of pride in his eyes, carefully handed you a slice. "I hope it meets your expectations, my love."

You eagerly took a bite, eyes widening as the flavors exploded on your tongue. It was amazing. No, better than amazing—it was downright phenomenal. How did he even manage to bake something this good? A prince of darkness and a master chef? This was unfair.

"This slaps," you declared, totally unaware of the impending doom those words were about to unleash.

The moment the words left your mouth, you noticed a visible shift in Malleus’s expression. The proud smile he’d worn just seconds ago faltered, his brow furrowing in confusion. His green eyes darkened, clouds suddenly appearing overhead. You could feel the electricity in the air as the temperature dropped.

"I see," Malleus murmured, voice tight. "So… you dislike it."

Wait. What?

You blinked, realization dawning far too slowly. Oh no.

Before you could correct him, Malleus was already raising his hand, a faint crackle of magic sparking between his fingers. You could practically hear the thunder rumbling in the distance as he stared down at the pie slice in your hand, preparing to smite the poor, innocent pastry.

"No, no, no, no—wait!" You waved your arms frantically, standing up so fast you nearly tripped over the picnic blanket.

Sebek, meanwhile, had already leapt to his feet, eyes blazing with righteous fury. "How dare you insult Master Malleus’s baking?!" he shouted, fists clenched. "His skill is unmatched, and yet you have the audacity to call his creation—"

"Sebek." Silver’s voice, calm but firm, interrupted the impending tirade. He was still sitting, but his eyes were half-open now, watching the situation unfold with mild concern. "They didn’t mean it that way."

Lilia, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He was absolutely delighted by the chaos unfolding, his laughter ringing out across the clearing. "Oh, this is too good!" he cackled, practically rolling on the blanket. "I haven’t seen this much excitement at a picnic in centuries! You modern humans and your strange expressions never fail to entertain!"

You shot him a look that screamed, Please stop encouraging this.

Silver, bless his soul, finally spoke up again, this time turning his attention to you. "You might want to explain before the weather gets worse." He nodded toward the now very ominous-looking clouds gathering above Malleus.

Right. Explaining. You could do that.

You turned back to Malleus, who still looked like he was contemplating whether to zap the pie or not. You could tell his feelings were hurt—his brow was furrowed, his lips set in a tight line. And the thought of him feeling like that, all because of a misunderstanding, made your heart clench.

"Malleus," you said, stepping closer and reaching for his hand. "When I said ‘this slaps,’ I meant it’s really good. Like, insanely good. Amazing. Best pie I’ve ever had."

Malleus’s stormy expression faltered slightly, though the dark clouds remained. "But you said it ‘slaps.’"

"That’s modern slang," you explained, gently squeezing his hand. "It’s a compliment. I promise."

Malleus blinked, the magic at his fingertips dissipating as he processed your words. "So… you enjoyed it?"

"Absolutely. You knocked it out of the park with this pie." You gave him your most reassuring smile. "I could eat the whole thing."

The storm clouds began to thin, sunlight peeking through once more. Malleus tilted his head, considering this new information, and slowly—very slowly—a smile returned to his face.

"It pleases me to hear that," he said, his voice softening.

Meanwhile, Sebek was still standing there, sputtering indignantly. "W-Well, if that’s what they meant, then… of course Master Malleus’s pie is the best! I knew that all along!"

Lilia, still chuckling, waved a dismissive hand at Sebek. "Oh, calm down, boy. No harm done. Besides, now we know modern slang! What other fascinating phrases do you have, I wonder?"

Silver sighed, finally sitting up properly. "Maybe let’s avoid any more slang for today."

With the situation calming down, you took the opportunity to lean in closer to Malleus, brushing a soft kiss against his cheek. "I’m really sorry for the confusion," you murmured. "You’re an amazing baker, and your pie is delicious. I meant that, okay?"

Malleus’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly at the affection, and he gave a small nod. "I believe you."

Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, you pressed another kiss to his lips, slow and tender, savoring the warmth of his skin and the way his hand gently squeezed yours in return. The last of the clouds above you finally cleared, leaving the sky blue and bright once more. The storm was over, and everything was at peace again.

"Shall we enjoy the rest of our picnic, then?" Malleus asked, his voice much lighter now.

You nodded enthusiastically, sitting back down beside him. "Absolutely. And just so we’re clear—your food? Total banger."

Malleus raised a brow, clearly still unfamiliar with the term but now much more accepting of your strange modern ways. "I see. I shall take that as a compliment."

Sebek, still recovering from his earlier outrage, grumbled something under his breath, but you didn’t care. Lilia was still snickering, Silver was finally getting comfortable again, and Malleus was happy. Everything was right in the world.

And hey, now you knew—if you ever wanted to spice things up at a picnic, all it took was a little modern slang.

Instance 8: Destruction of NRC (Well, almost)

Crowley’s “magnanimous nature” was, quite frankly, killing you. Whether it was sorting mountains of paperwork, being sent on endless errands, or handling Grim’s regular chaos, you were exhausted. Every muscle in your body ached, your eyes had dark circles deeper than any pit, and you were pretty sure you were on your third day of functioning on nothing but caffeine and sheer spite.

Grim, bless his fiery little heart, watched you from his perch on your bed, tail flicking in irritation as you barely managed to drag yourself into Ramshackle after another long, thankless day.

“Ugh, henchhuman! You look like death warmed over,” Grim sniffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “How long do you plan on letting that featherbrained Crowley walk all over you?”

You groaned, flopping face-first into your pillow. “As long as it takes to survive this semester, Grim. No one else is going to deal with his nonsense. Not like I have a choice.”

Grim was silent for a moment, watching you with uncharacteristic concern. Then, in a low mumble, he said, “Well, I’ve had enough. You’re my henchhuman, and I won’t let him destroy you.”

You thought Grim was just being dramatic. But when you woke up the next morning to the sound of distant thunder rumbling ominously across the sky, you had a very, very bad feeling.

By the time you made it to NRC, the situation was in full swing. You arrived just in time to witness Crowley practically on his knees, looking like a man who had stared death in the face and lived to tell the tale—barely.

The sky above NRC was pitch black, clouds swirling and crackling with magic as the wind howled through the campus. A storm of epic proportions had descended, and it wasn’t just any storm. This was a Malleus Draconia-grade storm. The kind that didn’t just bring rain or wind—it brought devastation, and everyone was cowering indoors, peeking through windows, afraid to go outside.

Crowley spotted you immediately, rushing over with his cape flapping dramatically behind him as he stumbled, nearly slipping in the mud.

“Please,” he cried, hands clutching your shoulders as if you were his last lifeline. “Please, you must calm him down! I beg of you, prefect, do something!”

You raised a brow, half-expecting some pitiful excuse, but the Headmaster, in all his avian glory, had gone straight to the begging stage. “What did you do this time?” you sighed, knowing it had to be his fault.

“I did nothing! Absolutely nothing! Well, perhaps I’ve… been a little harsh on you, but that’s no reason for him to destroy the entire campus!” Crowley wailed, looking pitiful as a gust of wind nearly knocked him off balance.

“I’ll pay you! I’ll pay you an actual wage! I’ll give you a budget to renovate Ramshackle, and I’ll personally sponsor your vacation! Just please—stop him before there’s nothing left of Night Raven College!”

You blinked. Did… did you just get a salary offer? And a vacation? And a renovation budget? This was new.

Before you could process the sheer absurdity of the situation, Professor Crewel passed by with his coat dramatically billowing in the wind. “Honestly,” he muttered under his breath, “about time that birdbrain faced some consequences for his incompetence.”

Professor Trein, walking with his trusty feline Lucius, shook his head gravely. “At this point, the Headmaster deserves everything that’s coming to him.”

“Do you not see the storm?!” Crowley shrieked, pointing to the lightning that was now dangerously close to striking the bell tower.

Both professors exchanged a look before continuing on their way, Crewel muttering something about how this was Crowley’s mess to fix.

You couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of satisfaction seeing the Headmaster squirm. But at the same time, NRC was at risk of being blown off the map if you didn’t act soon. And judging by the way Grim was laughing maniacally in the corner, proudly declaring how he “fixed” your problems, this was going to be on you to clean up.

With a sigh, you gave Crowley a nod. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But if you go back on any of those promises—”

“I won’t!” Crowley promised, hands clasped as if in prayer. “I swear on the very foundation of this school, you will be compensated!”

You rolled your eyes but turned on your heel to head toward Diasomnia. The storm seemed to know you were coming, the wind parting just enough to allow you passage. The moment you stepped into the courtyard, the thunder seemed to quiet, though lightning still flashed ominously in the distance.

And there, standing at the center of it all, was Malleus. His expression was dark, eyes glowing faintly as he stared up at the storm he’d summoned. His hands were clasped behind his back, and even with his composed stance, you could sense the simmering frustration beneath the surface.

You approached carefully, calling out softly, “Malleus?”

His head turned slightly at the sound of your voice, though he didn’t fully look at you. “Ah, my love. I see you’ve arrived.”

You moved closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Grim told you what’s been going on, didn’t he?”

“I cannot stand to see you work yourself to exhaustion for that foolish crow,” Malleus muttered, still staring at the storm. “He takes advantage of your kindness. It is unforgivable.”

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest. He was genuinely upset—for you. But, you also couldn’t let NRC be reduced to rubble, and you needed to calm him down before it got worse.

With a soft chuckle, you stepped in front of him, gently cupping his face in your hands. “It’s okay. I appreciate how much you care about me, but you don’t have to destroy the school over this.”

Malleus’s eyes finally met yours, the storm above softening ever so slightly. “But you’re suffering.”

“I was,” you admitted, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “But not anymore. Crowley’s going to make it up to me—he promised me a wage, a renovation budget for Ramshackle, and a vacation.”

That seemed to catch his attention, the storm clouds above beginning to dissipate. “A vacation?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, leaning up to brush another kiss against his cheek. “In fact, I was going to ask if you’d like to come with me.”

Malleus blinked, his earlier frustration melting into a look of surprise—and then, a small, pleased smile tugged at his lips. The storm overhead faded into nothing, the sky returning to its usual clear blue.

“I would be honored,” he said softly, pulling you closer to him. “A vacation, just the two of us. That sounds… delightful.”

You grinned, pressing a final kiss to his lips, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. “It’s a date, then.”

And just like that, the storm was over. NRC was safe, and more importantly, you had managed to calm your dragon—and score a well-deserved vacation in the process.

As for Crowley? Well, you’d make sure to enjoy every moment of watching him squirm while you cashed in those promises.

Masterlist

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MEET THE FAMILY : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Stark!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men & MCU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After your dad, Tony Stark, finds out you’re dating Logan, he insists the whole Avengers team meet him. Nervous but with Logan by your side, you head to the compound, with Wade tagging along. The Avengers are curious and a little skeptical, especially Tony, but Logan holds his own during dinner. He impresses the team with his confidence and clear care for you, even earning Tony’s reluctant approval by the end of the night. Despite the initial tension, Logan becomes a part of your chaotic family, and everyone accepts him.

Part 2

THE COMPOUND WAS QUIET. Too quiet. You'd been on edge ever since Happy had called you that morning, voice full of that awkward yet endearing nervousness he always got when delivering bad—or rather, inconvenient—news.

“Your dad knows.”

Three words that had set your entire day into a downward spiral of anxiety. Of course, Tony would find out. He had eyes and ears everywhere, despite you trying to keep things on the down low. And now, he had apparently told everyone.

Your boyfriend, Logan, sat beside you on the drive to the Avengers compound, eyes fixed on the road, completely unfazed. He was never one to be easily rattled. He hadn’t even batted an eye when you mentioned the entire Avengers team was going to be waiting to meet him. If anything, he just lit a cigar and shrugged, saying, "Not the first time I've been sized up by a bunch of superheroes."

Logan was like that. Unbothered. Calm in the face of impending chaos.

Unlike you.

You let out a deep sigh, clutching the steering wheel a bit tighter. "You know, we could just make a U-turn right now," you muttered, hoping, praying he’d take you up on the offer.

Logan chuckled, the low rumble soothing and maddening all at once. "Nah, darlin'. We’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?"

"Logan, it's my dad. My dad, who, mind you, is Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Overprotective father extraordinaire. I love him, but he’s going to grill you."

He smirked, one of those self-assured, slightly cocky looks that made your heart skip. "I’ve been through worse, trust me."

You were about to respond when a voice suddenly piped up from the backseat, startling you both.

“Hey, so what’s for dinner? I hope it’s not shawarma. I had that yesterday, and let me tell you, intestinal distress doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Wade?!”

The red-suited mercenary, Wade Wilson—aka Deadpool—grinned as he popped his head between the seats. "Who else? You thought I’d miss a chance to meet the Avengers again? Besides, I’ve got a bet with myself to see which of them cracks first. My money’s on Banner. Big guy’s got a short fuse."

You groaned. “Wade, you weren’t even invited.”

"Yeah, but you love me," Wade said with a wink. "Plus, I’m the one who introduced you two lovebirds, so technically, I’m responsible for all of this.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of amusement there. He had a weird, chaotic friendship with Wade that baffled you at times. Still, Wade had been the one to introduce you to Logan in the first place. After one of those typical Wade escapades where you'd found yourself smack dab in the middle of a multiverse-saving mission, Logan had swooped in, gruff and full of snark, but undeniably magnetic. You'd been hooked ever since.

"Alright, just... please don't say anything weird when we get there. This is already going to be awkward enough as it is."

Wade gave you a salute. "Scout's honor, kiddo."

~

When you arrived at the compound, Logan strode beside you, a protective yet calm presence. Wade, naturally, flanked the other side, completely unfazed by the prospect of facing a room full of Earth's mightiest heroes.

As you entered the living area, the first to greet you was not your father, but Morgan Stark, Tony’s precocious little daughter, who ran up to you with a big grin on her face.

"Hey, Morgs," you greeted, bending down to hug her.

Her eyes immediately shifted to Logan, who watched the interaction with a faint smile. "Is this him?" she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

You nodded, a little nervous. "Yup. Morgan, this is Logan."

Morgan looked up at him with wide eyes, studying him. Logan crouched down to her level, his usually gruff demeanor softening just a bit. “You must be Morgan. Your sister talks about you all the time."

Morgan beamed. "You’re tall."

Logan chuckled. “And you’re smart.”

Morgan grinned and then, in typical kid fashion, dashed off, satisfied with her judgment. "I like him!" she called out as she disappeared into the kitchen.

One down.

Then the rest of the team filtered in—Tony, Pepper, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and even Rhodey. They all sized Logan up in their own way.

Tony, of course, was the first to speak.

"So," he said, voice casual but his eyes sharp, "this is the guy?"

Logan straightened up, meeting Tony's gaze with that signature, unflinching confidence. "Yup."

Tony took a moment, probably running a full background check in his mind before nodding. “Alright. Dinner’s almost ready, but first, I think the team’s got some questions.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a polite smile. “Logan, right? How’d you two meet?”

Before you could respond, Wade butted in.

“Oh, it’s a great story!” he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. “So, picture this—alternate dimensions, worlds colliding, typical Tuesday stuff. I’m getting my ass handed to me by some bad guys—”

“I don’t remember it that way,” you interjected.

“Shh, let me have this moment. Anyway, I call in Logan here for backup, because duh, claws and healing factor, and then boom, sparks fly between these two.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as her eyes flicked between you and Logan. "Sparks?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but Wade was too quick. "Like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Or maybe that was an explosion—I can't remember."

Logan sighed, clearly used to Wade's antics by now. “We met on a mission. Wade was being a pain in the ass, as usual. Your girl here held her own, and I liked that."

Your face heated up at Logan’s praise. You noticed Natasha and Steve exchanging a look. Clint leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, lips quirking up slightly as if he was already sizing Logan up.

“Multiverse missions, huh?" Clint finally said. "That must’ve been fun.”

Logan smirked, locking eyes with Clint, both men now in some sort of unspoken stare-off. “Fun's one way to put it.”

Clint didn’t break eye contact but gave a slow, approving nod. “So you’re used to the crazy life. Good.”

Thor, ever the enthusiastic one, stepped forward next, looking Logan up and down. "Ah, a fellow warrior, no doubt!" He clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder, earning a slight grunt from him. “Tell me, Logan, have you faced a frost giant before? Or perhaps a horde of dark elves?”

Logan gave a half-shrug, completely unfazed by Thor’s boisterous personality. “Haven’t seen those specifically, but I’ve fought my fair share of things with claws, teeth, and bad attitudes.”

Thor laughed heartily, clearly impressed. "Then we shall have many stories to exchange!"

Bruce, who had been hanging back, finally spoke up. "So, uh... any anger management issues we should be aware of?" He asked it cautiously, but you could see the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Wade snorted. "Banner, you're one to talk."

Logan just grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Let’s just say I know how to handle myself.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpened. "I’ve heard about you. Wolverine, right? Healing factor, claws, indestructible skeleton."

Logan nodded once. "That’s me."

She studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small, approving nod. “Impressive.”

Tony, though silent for most of the interaction, was still sizing Logan up. You could feel the weight of your dad’s expectations hanging over the room. He wasn’t one to just roll over and let things be.

“So, Logan,” Tony said, leaning back with a scrutinizing look. “You’ve been around a long time. Done a lot, I assume. How exactly do you plan on handling my daughter?”

Logan didn’t flinch under Tony’s gaze. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “She can handle herself just fine, Stark. But if you're asking if I’ve got her back? Always.”

The room went quiet for a beat. Even Wade had paused from whatever chaotic inner monologue he had going. The weight of Logan’s words, his seriousness, seemed to sink into everyone.

Tony’s eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time that night, his expression softened. A flicker of something—acceptance, maybe—passed across his face.

“Well,” Tony said, standing up and smoothing his shirt. “In that case, I suppose we should eat.”

As everyone began to move toward the dining room, you felt Logan’s hand slide into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, relieved to see a small smile playing on his lips.

“They like you,” you whispered.

Logan shrugged, but there was a warmth in his eyes. “More importantly, they love you.”

You leaned into him slightly as you both followed the rest of the Avengers. And as for Logan? He had passed the test.

~

As the group settled into the dining room, the mood shifted slightly—less tense, more familial. The Avengers took their seats around the long table, conversations gradually picking up, but you couldn’t shake the subtle glances they kept throwing Logan’s way. It was clear they were still sizing him up in their own way.

Logan, for his part, remained calm. He was good at reading a room, better at letting things roll off his back. You’d noticed that about him early on—he had this way of commanding a space just by being in it, without the need for flashy words or grand gestures. Even so, you could tell by the way his hand remained close to yours that he was paying attention to every little detail. Watching, listening, judging.

Morgan was seated next to Tony, happily talking to Pepper about something she’d done at school that week, her occasional glance toward Logan full of childlike curiosity and approval. To her, Logan wasn’t an intimidating figure. He was your boyfriend—nothing more, nothing less. The simplicity of it warmed your heart.

Dinner was served, and Wade, who had somehow managed to squeeze in between Natasha and Clint, immediately started in on a loud, entirely unprompted story about a mission in Madripoor that no one really asked for.

“So there I was, pinned down by a mob of highly trained ninja assassins—yes, they exist, Steve—and I’m about to go down for the count when Logan here comes in with the whole snikt, snikt thing,” Wade mimed Logan’s claws extending with dramatic flair, “and saves my beautiful behind from a fate worse than death: losing my taco night.”

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Right, because that’s clearly the priority in a life-or-death situation.”

“Exactly!” Wade pointed enthusiastically, as if Steve had just made his point for him. “This guy gets it.”

Natasha leaned back, smirking as she cut into her food. “So, Logan saved your life, and that’s how the two of you met?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Not exactly. Logan and I didn’t really meet officially until a little later. Wade just… happened to be there. Per usual.”

“Per usual, my dear?” Wade gasped dramatically. “You wound me. You wouldn’t have even met this tall drink of Canadian water if it weren’t for me!”

Logan gave a quiet grunt of amusement, though he didn’t say anything. Instead, he caught your eye, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Wade continued his rambling story.

Thor, who had been listening intently to Wade’s increasingly exaggerated tale, turned to Logan, looking genuinely intrigued. “So, Wolverine, your claws—are they forged of enchanted metal, much like Mjölnir?”

Logan paused, mid-chew, and raised an eyebrow at the Asgardian. “Not exactly. Adamantium. Strongest metal on Earth. Had it grafted to my skeleton a long time ago.”

Thor nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Ah, I see! A most noble addition. I myself am well-acquainted with weaponry of such caliber. Though I must admit,” he leaned in slightly, “I would be most curious to see them in action.”

Logan gave a low chuckle. “Maybe after dessert.”

As the conversation drifted on, Logan slowly began to settle in. Steve asked him a few more questions about his past—carefully avoiding anything too personal or traumatic—and Clint, always the quiet observer, seemed to be assessing Logan from across the table, eyes sharp but not unkind.

Tony, meanwhile, hadn’t said much since dinner started. He watched everything, listened to everyone, but remained quiet, only offering the occasional comment or quip. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was still processing. As much as Tony trusted your judgment, the whole “overprotective dad” thing didn’t exactly disappear overnight.

“So,” Tony finally spoke up, setting his fork down as the rest of the table quieted. “You’ve been through a lot. War, battles, more than most people could handle in one lifetime. And yet, here you are.”

Logan glanced at him, not quite sure where this was going, but he nodded. “Yeah. Seen more than my share.”

Tony leaned forward, elbows on the table, and his gaze sharpened, narrowing slightly as if he was putting Logan through one last test. “My daughter’s important to me— really important. You say you’ve got her back, and I respect that. But if you’re sticking around… you’re gonna need to know one thing.”

The room stilled. Even Wade had gone quiet, which was a rare feat. Logan met Tony’s stare head-on, not a trace of intimidation or hesitation in his gaze.

“What’s that?” Logan asked evenly.

Tony exhaled, his expression softening—just a fraction. “This family? We’ve been through hell. Lost people we cared about. We’ve had our world flipped upside down more times than I can count. And the thing is… when you’re in, you’re in. No half-measures. No walking away when things get tough. You stick it out. You fight for the people who matter.”

Logan didn’t blink. His gaze shifted briefly to you, then back to Tony. “That’s how I’ve always lived.”

Tony nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. There was a weight to that moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Whatever final test Tony had in mind, it seemed Logan had passed.

Pepper, sensing the shift, smiled softly and placed a hand on Tony’s arm, quietly grounding him. “Dinner was wonderful,” she said warmly, breaking the tension. “I think we’ve had enough grilling for one night.”

Natasha smirked, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You’ve survived the inquisition. Impressive.”

Logan shrugged. “Didn’t seem all that bad.”

Rhodey laughed. “You’re lucky. The last guy that showed up to date one of Stark’s kids? He didn’t make it past the appetizers.”

Tony snorted, shooting Rhodey a playful glare. “That’s because that guy showed up in a muscle car blaring AC/DC and quoting Shakespeare.”

“I thought you liked AC/DC?” you teased.

“I do. Not when it’s a first impression.”

Morgan, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, suddenly piped up. “Are you staying here tonight?” she asked innocently, looking up at Logan.

Logan blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh…”

“Morgan,” Pepper began, her tone gentle but with that motherly undertone of “not now.”

“What? If he’s dating my sister, maybe he should stay!”

Wade, sensing an opportunity to cause more chaos, grinned beneath his mask. “Oh, I second that motion, mini-Stark! Logan here can bunk with me. I’ll show him my extensive collection of ‘80s action movies. It’ll be like a slumber party, only with more explosions.”

Clint nearly spit out his drink, trying to stifle his laughter, and even Natasha cracked a rare smile.

Logan, who had been stoic and composed throughout the entire evening, just shook his head. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

You burst out laughing, and as you glanced around the table, you saw that, little by little, Logan was beginning to fit in with the Avengers’ chaotic dynamic. Sure, there were still guarded looks and unspoken tests, but your family—both blood and found—was starting to accept him in their own way.

As dessert was served and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you felt Logan’s hand rest on your knee under the table, a small, reassuring touch that grounded you. You leaned into him slightly, smiling to yourself. Maybe this whole thing hadn’t been as bad as you’d feared.

By the time the evening began winding down, Logan was in the middle of an animated conversation with Thor about battle strategies, Wade was loudly recounting yet another exaggerated mission story to anyone who’d listen, and Morgan had fallen asleep in Pepper’s arms.

Tony, now more relaxed, leaned over to you as the others chatted around the table. “So… Logan,” he said quietly.

You glanced at him, unsure of what was coming next. “Yeah?”

Tony gave a small, reluctant smile. “I still think you could’ve given me a heads-up earlier, but… he’s alright. I guess.”

You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his. “Told you so.”

Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

As the night wrapped up and the team slowly began to disperse, you and Logan lingered by the door. Tony walked up to Logan, offering his hand.

“Take care of her,” Tony said, his tone steady but genuine.

Logan gripped Tony’s hand firmly, meeting his gaze once more. “Always.”

With that final exchange, you left the compound with Logan by your side, Wade tagging along (of course). And as you drove away, your hand resting in Logan’s, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Your family had met him. He’d met them. And while it hadn’t been perfect, it was the first step in blending the two worlds you cared so deeply about. In the end, Logan wasn’t just a part of your life anymore.

He was a part of theirs.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes

If you want to be added to the Logan tag list, let me know!

[flamingpudding]

Triple Identity Crisis

Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.

As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.

For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.

Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.

Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.

Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.

Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.

To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.

So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.

But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.

He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.

Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.

"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....

[bluerosefox]

Courting Chaos (to Balance)

A KlarionxDanny brain worm that has spawned

Tim Drake, aka Red Robin gets kidnapped suddenly and very randomly by Klarion in the middle of a JL and others meeting.

Leaving with a

"I'LL RETURN HIM WHEN HES NO LONGER USEFUL JUSTICE LOSERS!"

And fire and chaos in his wake.

While the JL, and others scramble to figure out what Klarion has planned this time, Tim manages to break free of whatever Klarion had used to kidnap him only to find himself on a couch and Klarion nervously petting Teekl on his lap while also sitting in a chair across from him.

When Tim goes to demand to know why Klarion kidnapped him Klarion finally speaks.

"Okay, I wanna strike a deal. I won't bug you or your little Young Just US buddies if you help me ask someone out..."

"...What the fuck Klarion?" Was Tim's only response.

-x-x-

So it turns out, every so often the three main entities and actual factions of Order, Chaos, and Balance get together to well discuss things happening in certain Realms, worlds, and timelines. Basicly to touch base, see where everyone was at. Etc etc.

Order was Order. Chaos was Chaos.

Very simple.

Both could be bad. To much order caused restraint and could snuff out growth. To much Chaos could get out of hand and cause ruin.

Both could be good. Order help stabilizes worlds and builds their future. Chaos allowed creativity to roam and brought forth wonderful things.

And Balance.

Well Balance was the very scales that kept both sides in check. They were neutral grounds. The ones that normally oversaw the meetings as well. And despite their low numbers they held powerful entities that more than made up for it.

Balance did their best to keep things in check, sure they do have their own preference sometimes and allowed the scales to tip a tiny bit but always corrected it later if it tips to much.

It was at this meeting, a meeting even Klarion knew better than to do anything too chaotic, pranks were fine but nothing too much, and had been chatting with a newcomer to the side of Chaos (Danielle, call me Ellie, Phantom. She did some heroing on the side but liked causing chaos in her wake to do so, he liked her so far though.) When the bells for the side of Balance to appear announced them.

Ellie had smiled brightly and said her brother was coming with his mentor, turns out her brother was apart of the Balance group which meant that he was strong, strong enough to need a mentor.

He watched as the members of Balance walked, teleported, flew, and other means into the meeting halls. And then froze when his eyes caught sight of him.

Floating next to a blue skined being that was switching ages was a beautiful otherworldly person.

Snow white hair that wisped upwards oh so softly. Glowing green eyes that were cat-like with their piercing glance. A galaxy cloak hanged around his shoulders and seemed to shift with each movement. Star like freckles decorated his face and seemed to glow a soft bluish white. A crown made of ice and aurora lights floated above his head as well.

All in all Klarion couldn't keep his eyes off of the being at all. He nearly spat his water out when Ellie commented that was her brother Danny, or rather.

High King of the Infinite Realms, Daniel 'Danny' Phantom. The Great One. Defeater of the Tyrant King. The Halfa. The Peaceful End. The Balance of the Undead. (And his mentor was the Ghost of Time itself. THE very Keeper of Time, Kronos original form himself.)

Klarion honestly didn't know what to think or rather what emotions he was feeling when he spotted Danny, nor why his face felt so hot and red when the young man looked over at them and smiled. (He was smiling at Ellie but Klarion for some reason hoped it was for him as well)

It wasn't until halfway in the meeting when a rather ingenious prank that Klarion, Ellie, and a few others had set up went off... thing was it strong enough that it had hit Danny's side of the meeting and had hit him.

Now, again pranks were okay but only after the meetings. It was one of the few rules many, even those in Chaos, took seriously because once it was done and over they could go do their things. So for it to happen in the middle of a meeting means someone set their time on the prank wrong and add the fact it hit a person on the Balance side...

Yeah not good.

Only...

Only instead of getting angry, even Clockwork who was seated next to Danny was chuckling, Danny threw his head back and laughed about it. And his laugh... was very cute.

And before he knew it, Klarion had already fallen.

-x-x-

"So yeah.... Since you have a boyfriend and know how to date in this modern age, I need your advice."

".... Klarion just because I'm dating Bernard doesn't mean I know how I did it..."

"Bernard? I thought you were dating that one Supes?"

[justaladyiguess]

Jax 001 Theory AKA An almost definitely wrong TADC theory

I thought it was weird that they gave specific attention to Jax seeing the license plate. Like, there's a whole shot dedicated it. And it doesn't serve much of a purpose. I guess it lets us know that this is Jax's car? But it's in the episode. A full shot dedicated to seeing him notice it. A full shot dedicated to the plate itself.

And there's a shot afterwards of him reacting to it. Not even a particularly comedic shot. It feels more in line with his reaction to Kaufmo's funeral in episode 2.

True, it could be him reacting to the awful adventure he just had, but we just had a scene where his smile turned into a scowl. And, you know, pretty much the rest of the episode. Or it could be him reacting to the absurdity of the license plate, but considering the day to day adventures Caine creates, this seems a bit tame to get any reaction from him.

So that gets me wondering, does the license plate have any significance? The number at the top right could be some sort of reference. But it's the 001 that intrigued me. It's typically a number given to the first of something. Maybe even the first person to come to the circus?

Instantly the idea sounded ridiculous (because it is, this theory is almost definitely wrong). I mean, Jax himself said that Kinger had been here the longest. But take a look back at what he actually said.

"Supposedly been here the longest"

At first glance, this seems to mean that Jax can't be sure who's been here the longest. Which makes sense when you consider Kinger's memory issues and all the circus members who have abstracted. And, let's be real, this is probably what the line means. But if you'll let me be delusional for a second, there's another way to read this line.

What if Jax means that everyone assumes Kinger had been there the longest? But he knows it's not true because he's been there the longest?

For most characters, it wouldn't make sense for them to be purposefully vague with their wording. But this is Jax. It's completely in character for him to keep things from the other circus members for no reason. In the first episode alone he kept his supply of keys and Kaufmo's abstraction a secret. Jax will lie about pretty much everything, and he's pretty good at it too.

Further delusions can also be found in episode one. When Pomni tries take her headset off, Jax says this.

Could it be that Jax knows the circus members all tried to take off their headsets because he was there when they did it? Again, probably not. This is the weakest piece of evidence I have, but I figured I'd include it anyway.

And that would explain a fair bit of his behavior. Jax seems more comfortable in the circus than any of them. He has access to keys. He's only momentarily surprised by Kaufmo abstracting. He's incredibly jaded. He seems bored with the adventures, deliberately causing chaos to get them off track (his hijinks on the syrup truck, sucking up the ghost in the mansion, and trying to dunk Ragatha in the oil). It almost reads like a gamer who's played the game a thousand times and is trying anything to make it interesting.

Again, I'm fully aware that this probably isn't the case. I'd say there's a 0.01% chance that this will be confirmed in any capacity whatsoever. It will almost definitely be disproved. But until then, I thought this would be a fun idea. Maybe it'd be a good fic.

But hey, that's just a theory...

A DIGITAL CIRCUS THEORY!

and cut.

[flwrkid14]

Red Hood vs. Red Robin: A Boyfriend's Dilemma

So, Danny Phantom has a confession to make: his favorite Gotham vigilante? It’s Red Hood. The sheer chaos, the boldness, the way Jason Todd absolutely doesn’t care what anyone thinks—it just speaks to Danny on a deep level. But the problem? He’s dating Tim Drake. Aka Red Robin. And Tim is not amused.

Every time Danny gushes about how cool Red Hood is, Tim gets this adorable little pout on his face. His arms cross, and he’ll start sulking like it’s some sort of cosmic injustice. And honestly? Danny loves it. He knows Tim’s his boyfriend, but watching him get all grumpy is way too fun to pass up.

But here’s the truth: as much as Danny admires Red Hood, Tim will always be his number one. No amount of Jason Todd fanboying could change that. Tim’s the one who makes him laugh, keeps him grounded, and knows him better than anyone. And when Tim’s sulking gets too much, Danny can’t resist it anymore. He pulls Tim close, pressing kisses all over his face until his boyfriend’s grumpy act finally cracks.

Yeah, he might pretend that Red Robin is only second best, but Danny knows where his heart truly lies. Tim Drake is, and will always be, his favorite.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Hiii I’m coming over here to request from youuu >:)

Would you be willing to do some headcanons for an extroverted!Anakin x shy!reader pretty please?

Ilysm babes, have a good dayyy <33

EXTROVERT!ANAKIN X SHY!READER HEADCANONS

Author's note: sorry my dearest pookie you had to wait so long. I did not forget about you :)

TW: public sex

Extrovert!Anakin who basically found you, started to like you, and eventually 'adopted' you' (aka you started dating)

Extrovert!Anakin who had never dared himself to cross your barriers - if you didn't feel like going outside, he stayed with you (if you wanted him to), if you wanted to go somewhere, he went with you (if you wanted him along with you)

Extrovert!Anakin who was sygnifically higher than you, which made you feel less nervous in public. Which was more attractive as well

Extrovert!Anakin who thrives in social situations. He’s charming, bold, and effortlessly the center of attention wherever he goes. Meanwhile, you’re content observing from the sidelines, preferring quiet moments and small groups.

Extrovert!Anakin who becomes protective of your shyness. If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, he’s quick to step in with that intimidating side of him. He’s not afraid to throw a warning glare if someone is being too forward or pushy.

Extrovert!Anakin who, again, absolutely adores being social (feels low and sad when he's not being social - it's like a need in his life he can't live without), so he often brings you into his friend group, introducing you with pride, his arm around you like he’s keeping you safe.

He knows being the center of attention isn’t your favorite, so he’ll make sure to handle the conversations and steer any much-not-needed attention away from you if you seem to be uncomfortable.

Extrovert!Anakin who's clingy. The second you’re in a more private spot, he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close, and giving you that cute smile. If you’re ever feeling nervous, he’ll just hold you and whisper sweet, goofy things to make you laugh.

He’s not shy about PDA either. You’re constantly holding hands, and he loves sneaking little kisses on your cheek or forehead, making sure you always feel loved and cherished like you deserve to be.

Extrovert!Anakin who's big on helping you grow out of your shell, but he always does it at your pace. He’ll cheer you on with every little step, whether it’s speaking up more or trying something new. He’s your biggest hype man, telling you how proud he is and how amazing you’re doing.

If he notices you getting a little more talkative or comfortable in a situation, he’s over the moon, with that adorable, proud-boyfriend smile that screams love

Extrovert!Anakin who adores the blush that rises to your cheeks when he says something flirtatious or when he’s being openly affectionate in public. He’ll lean in close, whispering something that makes your heart race, just to cherish your shocked, shy expression.

Extrovert!Anakin who, as loud and social as he can be, he often finds that you are his calm. When he’s tired of the chaos and all the things in the words, your body seems to be the very perfect spot to curl to

Extrovert!Anakin who is as clingy as coala, (mostly when you two are alone);

It’s late, and you’re trying to finish a book you’d been reading all week, yet Anakin has other plans. He practically melts against you, wrapping himself around you with a sigh - head nestled in the crook of your neck.

“Can’t you just put that down?” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of that irresistible warmth. “I’ve been waiting all day to hold you like this.”

You laugh, but it’s no use—his arms tighten around you, his legs tangled with yours, practically holding you hostage in the most loving way possible. His eyes are closed, a faint smile playing on his lips as he now buries his face in your shoulder, breathing you in like you’re his entire world.

“Anakin…” you begin, but he only mumbles something sleepy and contented, pulling you even closer. "I'm trying to read.."

“I know,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “But it's so comfortable here..just wanna cuddle"

Extrovert!Anakin who loves to play with your hair. Twirling the strands of it around his slim, long fingers, tucking them behind your ear (which makes you blush as well) or just try to make a very clumsy braid because he is 'bored'

Extrovert!Anakin who often takes you to picnic dates;

Anakin’s fingers interlace with yours as he leads you through the twilight, a woven basket swinging from his other arm. He glances back, his eyes glinting with a childlike excitement that never fails to make you smile.

“I found the perfect spot,” he says, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. “Just under a grand old tree that week ago this couple stole us"

And he’s right. Minutes later, you’re nestled on a blanket beside him, under the perfect shadow from the tree. Anakin has this way of making even the simplest things feel extraordinary. He pulls out treats he insisted on making himself (though you both know the pastries from park's markets are always there as backup). And what's even adorable and incredibly sweet, is his sheepish smile when he takes out more advanced food - cookies, muffins, always saying "well, that actually I made with my mom"

Halfway through, he suddenly picks up a daisy from beside the blanket and tucks it gently behind your ear. “There,” he murmurs, admiring you with an awestruck gaze, like you’re a vision, a muse, a pure sun in the sky full of dark clouds. He’s always like this, brimming with love as if you're his entire world and meaning of existence

Extrovert!Anakin who made love to you in public toilet;

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, “my sweet, shy girl… who’d ever guess you’d let me take you here, like this?”

You bite back a moan, your body aching with each deep thrust he made. “Feels so good, Ani…”

He grins, before his hand slides up, covering your mouth to muffle your moans. “Shh… you wouldn’t want someone to hear, would you?” he breathes, eyes dark and gleaming as he watches your reaction. His hips snap harder against yours, making you tremble beneath him. “I know you love this, though,” he teases “The shy, good girl everyone knows… so needy for me here, in this dirty, little bathroom…”

You gasp against his hand, your eyes closing as he angles himself deeper, making your whole body arch up to meet him.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he moans himself, eyes shutting close from too intense feeling from your core. “Take every inch of me.” His other arm moves to hold you steady, fingers digging into your hip to guide your clumsy movements to meet his more precise ones. Yet still, he drives you crazy - he’s relentless, the thrusts he makes against your fluttering, clenching core a perfect mix of rough and tender, each one driving you closer and closer to the final edge. “Such a good girl,” he whimpers to your ear

“What would they say,” he whispers against your ear, “if they knew how much you were loving this? Little Miss Shy, moaning my name in public bathroom, with no care in the world" he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot that leaves you gasping. “There it is… that’s what my sweet girl likes, isn’t it?” he watches as your head falls back, completely under his spell. “Gonna fill you up, love.. Think you can be quiet for me now?”

Extrovert!Anakin who's deeply observant and knows how to comfort you without you even saying a word. If you’re overwhelmed at a party, he’ll instantly lead you outside for a breather, holding your hand and letting you decompress in his arms.

Anakin has a sixth sense for your moods and will check in constantly. “Hey, you doing okay?” he’ll ask, leaning in with those big, concerned eyes, ready to support you in any way.

Extrovert!Anakin who, in public, will love doing cute little things like running up behind you, picking you up in a surprise hug, or brushing his fingers across your shoulder to make you laugh. It’s all about making you feel seen and adored, even if you’re naturally shy.

He’s so proud to have you by his side that he’ll introduce you to literally everyone. When you’re too shy to talk, he’ll just laugh and carry the conversation, making it feel effortless for you.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless

[cxffecoupx]

hyper/calm dynamics

seventeen × gn reader silly ot13, absolutely unserious warnings: none, only goofy svt word count: 413 author's notes: this was a very unserious thought that came to my mind😭 may or may not have been thought of while watching business proposal videos... might just end up making a 'silly svt series' where i do more of such stuff. also, although i mention the term 'gf' here, it's just for the presentation; i've tried my best to make it gn!! i hope you like it :)

hyper gf, calm bf seungcheol, wonwoo, woozi

aka sunshine and sunshine protector. this is such a funny thought in my head like i can see their partner being so bubbly and bouncy and the boys just stand by, smiling awkwardly. they're probably like, holding a leash thats connected to their s/o in order to keep them within sight. dont join in on their s/o's antics, but very supportive from the sidelines, probably silently cheering them up. they may not match their partner's energies, but never question their love for them.

calm gf, hyper bf junhui, seokmin, mingyu, chan

literally the opposite. the boys giving absolute second hand embarrassment while their s/o's just there like 'baby i'm not even here'. boyfriend who? but, during rare occasions, the partners might just match the boys' energies; it's hard to not have them rub off on you. the inverse of the previous sunshine and sunshine protector. partner looks at their bf like he hung up the stars and moon and the whole universe.

calm gf, calm bf jeonghan, minghao, hansol

they just exude this peaceful vibe yk. you could join them at any moment and just... exist. tea party vibes fr like some tea, sweet cookies, gentle gossiping. dont have much energy for extraordinary stuff. they're both just happy to be there, with each other. others might find them too underwhelming, but they understand each other well enough. their love language is gentle loving.

hyper gf, hyper bf soonyoung

CHAOS personified. trouble, trouble and trouble yet again. if you think you can control this couple, you're WRONG. horanghae and horanghae enthusiast. match each other's energy to a level that is genuinely concerning (and lowkey terrifying). they're so chaotic it even drains the energy out of others with them. the calm ones are just purely afraid of them. not to worry tho, they do it out of love and love only. hold so much love for each other and everyone else its cute🤧

option d: all of the above jisoo, seungkwan

cant really pinpoint what they'd be cause their energy is all over the place. one thing for sure though, their partners definitely match their freak. i can just see it. if they're calm, they're calm together. if they're chaotic, they rain hellfire on everyone else. everyone prays they remain peaceful because it's hard to manage them otherwise. but no one can say for sure. they could wake up one day and collectively choose violence.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 2!!

In the first part I went over my character writing notes for Raph, so we're doing Leo next!!!

Leo Character Notes

Language Habits:

First the obvious, makes a lot of puns and one-liners. Think corny super hero movies

Does poke at New Jersey often in said one-liners

Mumbles/talks to himself out loud often

Starts a Lot of his sentences with, "Okay--"

Often will add on, "haha, you're hilarious", when he's trying to tease or antagonize someone

Similarly to Raph he will also verbalize his attacks/actions, "kick and punch"/"punch and kick", "land safely"/"and he sticks the landing"

Also will verbalize when he's trying to make a portal, "come on portal", "it's portal time", "portal power jitsu"

We all know "hachi machi"

Tendency to also make noises when fighting, "yah"/"wah!"/"hah!"

That little ohohoho laugh can signify as his battle cry/excitement, or his nervousness depending on context

Same case as the above with "hoh boy"

Will stutter on words to emphasize them, "l-l-l-l-lame!"

The first to jump onto an "I told you so" or "I was right"

Mixes Spanish into his sentences, most notably "bueno", "vamanos", "hermano(s)"

Messes up science terminology, "reprogramulating"

Says "indubitably" when he's up to something (which Raph recognizes)

Out of all the brothers, he does poke fun the most

Refers to himself as "Leon"

Refers to others (mostly strangers/acquaintances) as "bub"/"bud", or "chief"

Personality:

Dramatic, Leo will always play things up 110%. Sometimes this is to cover up his insecurities, to cheer up his brothers, or to annoy said brothers. Also plays into his extreme responses to stressful situations

The fun brother, aka mikey's advocate. He takes his role seriously as the face man, who keeps things fun and cool for his brothers. It's an easy role, and he gets to make his family laugh or roll their eyes. He's. Sillay

Perceptive, this is why he knows exactly what buttons to push, but he's not a great communicator when it comes to the bigger picture. This also plays into his manipulativeness that he uses to put chaos into his family (i.e. lair games), puppet villains (i.e. Big Mama) into his motives, and change the battlefield

A closet nerd, implied to remember more jupiter jim lore than the rest of his brothers and has a ready to go impression of the reptiles of planet reptilica

Competitive to a fault, he tends to get lost in the competition when it comes to his brothers. Part of his dramatism is showing off, and he's weak to being called or associated with the term "champion". Competition is a way he gauges his self worth

Has a strong desire for the inherent admiration and trust of his peers, more than outright praise (both are wanted) unlike Donnie. This damages his communication skills because he just expects his brothers to trust him while he puts on a persona of nonchalance as protection from failure

Defensive, of himself through being snippy or sarcastic, but also defensive of his brothers' own well-being. He may be the one to poke the most fun, but he's also the one to jump to his siblings' defense out of any of the brothers. Sort of an "only I can do so and so to blank" mindset

Martyr complex, prioritizes the safety of his family over his own safety

Gets attached to people he considers family Quickly, those he doesn't consider a part of his family he has little sympathy for but once that connection is there he's already ready to use his body as a shield

Freeze response, tends to freeze up in response to danger or stress. Often shown to curl into a ball or stand silently (as opposed to his constant chatter)

Miscellaneous:

The third to unlock his mystic powers

Nicknames: "baby blue" by splinter, "nardo" by donnie

Sweats an ungodly amount

Uses spit to annoy his brothers/enemies (licking an item to claim it as his, wet willies)

Can beat box

Always chooses left in mazes or when lost

Next up will be Donnie :>

[multifandomslxt]

Quiet Rage

MDNI

MINORS GO AWAY

Pairing: bsf!Johnny x reader

Synopsis: You wanted to test a theory and ended up making Johnny "Quiet Rage" Suh pissed all the way off. Surely he wouldn't take it out on you though right? after all, you were his best friend.

WARNING: THIS IS SMUT...arguably one of my dirtiest yet. reader is a little shit and Johnny is the quiet guy in the friend group. Johnny in glasses. Dirty and I mean DIRTY talk. spit, sweat, mentions of bruising skin, drooling, overstimulation, exhibitionism via video call, just dirty stuff alright

A/N: This took forever to get out and I apologize for that. it's exam season and I really wanted this out so I pulled some all-nighters. so I apologize for the grammatical errors and so on. I'm very very nervous about this because I did not expect the teaser to get that much attention. but anyway, enjoyyy. @neoculturecollectives @calibabii21

"I swear, Johnny's into you," your girlfriend claims, and you almost spit out your latte. You shoot her a look, throat burning, and coffee dribbling down your chin. "What the hell makes you say that?"

She rolls her eyes, handing you a napkin. "Come on, babe. The guy gives you that intense stare all the time."

You stare at her in disbelief. "He gives everyone that stare. It's just Johnny."

She grunts in frustration. "Y/n, he calls you 'baby' for crying out loud."

You shrug, trying to play it cool. "So? It's not like it's some romantic declaration."

This scenario is all too familiar, and it annoys you. People always misread Johnny and you, trying to turn your perfectly platonic relationship into something more.

"Alright, if you're so confident, come with me to Jay's party tonight," she challenges.

Your heart sinks.

Jay, aka Jaehyun, is her boyfriend, and you've crossed paths quite a bit. But you already know you can't go.

"He doesn't like you like that, right? So let's settle it, Y/n. Let's end the speculation."

"That's dumb. I don't need to prove anything," you argue. But truth be told, your heart is still doing somersaults. You both know why you won't go, or rather, can't.

Johnny has this strict no-party rule for you. Sounds stupid, but it's his way of keeping you safe. One bad experience with some idiot led to this.

"Come on, just this once, and I'll drop it, promise," she pleads.

"Fine" you reply, already feeling your energy drain.

~

You find yourselves in what's supposed to be Jay's living room turned dance floor.

"Where's that man?" your friend complains beside you.

You hadn't been paying much attention to her anyway. Tonight, you're on a mission to prove a point. Yep, you're scanning for Johnny.

"Yo, ladies!" A familiar voice greets you from behind.

It's Mark. Awkward, cute, and definitely on some kind of high.

weed probably

"Markieee." you smiled and hugged him.

"Have you seen Jay?" your friend asks, not even bothering to greet Mark.

"In the upstairs bathroom," Mark replies, the thumping bass of the music echoing through the house.

"Thanks, y/n, call me if you need me," she says, her voice almost drowned out by the distant laughter and chatter.

"Okay," you agree, even though you know she's most likely going to be too busy to pick up. With that, she confidently stalks off into the lively chaos to find her man.

You're still hugging Mark throughout that, the music's pulsating rhythm vibrating through your bodies, and neither of you makes a move to release the other.

"Markie, how high are you right now?" you ask, half amused and half concerned, the scent of various substances hanging in the air.

"I'm not high," he insists, his words slightly slurred.

Yep, he's as high as a damn kite. "Alright, let's get you seated," you decide, guiding him through the animated crowd.

You hug him a little tighter to your side as you maneuver through the sea of people, completely unaware that the man you had been scanning for was silently observing you from across the dimly lit room.

Johnny tilts his head ever so slightly, the ambient lights flickering, casting enigmatic shadows on his intense expression as he observes you cradling the nearly unconscious Mark in your arms.

"Yo, Johnny! Where you goin'?" Heachan's voice echoes from the kitchen, where the clinking of glasses and laughter weave through the air.

"You can't bail on me now, man. You promised to try this strain with me," Hexhan pleads, his tone a mix of whining and cajoling.

"Another time," Johnny responds tersely, striding away without a backward glance.

Johnny can't fathom any sober reason for Mark to be draped over you like that.

"And you shouldn't even be here," Johnny muses to himself.

"Y/n," his gruff voice calls out, a single word that carries volumes.

You pivot, finding yourself face to face with your long-time best friend, a man whose relationship with you blurs between suspected boyfriend, occasional fling, or perhaps something more permanent.

His towering figure looms over you like an impending storm, his mouth contorted in a sneer, eyebrows knitted in displeasure. A quick appraisal reveals he's opted for a relaxed ensemble tonight—black hoodie and grey joggers, his signature black rimmed glasses resting on his nose.

"Johnny, I've been looking for you. Where the hell were y--"

"Y/n, have I ever told you that your tits make the best pillows ever? Oh my god," Mark interjects, completely oblivious to Johnny's presence.

In one swift motion, Johnny shoves Mark away, causing him to collide with people behind you.

"Johnny, what the fuck!" you gasp, caught off guard.

"What are you doing here, Y/n? I'm only asking once," Johnny demands, his hand firmly gripping the back of your neck, forcefully pulling you into the shelter of his chest.

"Answer the question."

"I'm here for you," you assert, making no attempt to deceive.

"You could've called me if you missed me so much, baby," he responds, his voice softening, and his eyebrows gradually easing.

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to have fun too," you argue.

It becomes apparent that you've made the wrong choice as his hand tightens slightly around your neck.

"Have fun at home. No parties. I'm sure I told you that," his voice remains calm, but the increasing pressure on the back of your neck contradicts his demeanor.

"Go home. Now," he states, leaving no room for argument.

For a moment, your body twitches as if to comply, but it seems you're on a defiant streak tonight.

"No. I'll stay and have fun. I've seen you now, so I'll just go look for the others and enjoy myself," you declare.

He stares at you, a blank facial expression revealing nothing.

"Y/n, baby, go home," he says softly.

Successfully prying yourself from his grip, you retort, "No."

You stalk off, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room, hands straight by his sides, and his gaze unwaveringly black yet watchful.

As you navigate through the crowd, encounter familiar faces here and there.

~

You find yourself on your umpteenth shot of tequila when, unexpectedly, you're invited to a game of truth or dare, courtesy of Haechan.

Johnny is nowhere to be found, and the absence begins to stir a sense of worry and nervousness within you.

The game had unfolded over an extended period, leaving your mind increasingly hazy with each passing moment. Holding your liquor was never your forte.

You observed as the bottle spun and twirled before ultimately settling on the guy positioned beside you.

"dare" the guy simply said.

"I dare you to kiss y/n," Haechan's slurred yet mischievous voice announced.

As Haechan proclaimed his dare, Johnny ambled into the room, seemingly oblivious to your presence, it left you feeling bothered and angry.

Fine, you mused, if he's going to act that way.

Perhaps it was the influence of the alcohol coursing through your system or some other inscrutable force, but you found yourself impulsively lunging towards the guy next to you. Teeth clashed in a messy, audacious kiss, and, fueled by the audacity of the dare, you dared to explore further by delving your tongue into his mouth.

A cheer erupted from the onlookers, making your heart swell.

Basking in the attention, you pushed the boundaries, only to be abruptly seized by the neck for the second time that night, this time by none other than Johnny himself.

Without hesitation, he mused, "Go to the car and sit. I'll be there soon."

"But, Joh—"

"Go. To. The. Car, Y/n, and shut your fucking mouth. I said I'll be there soon," he asserted, his words punctuated through gritted teeth.

~

The last ten minutes had passed in utter silence as both of you sat in the car.

When Johnny finally slid into the driver's seat, his gaze never once met yours. Without a word, he started the car and left the party, only sparing you attention when he needed to secure your seatbelt.

The oppressive silence weighed on you.

"That was a fun game, wasn't it?" you ventured, attempting to break the tension.

Silence persisted.

"I bet Haechan has a video of it. Probably gonna send it to the group later," you added, attempting to inject a touch of levity into the atmosphere, though your laughter carried an undercurrent of awkwardness.

"Quit playing with me." He bites back, completely unamused by your attempt at a joke.

Your body stills as you stare wide-eyed at the man beside you. You didn't expect that from him. He wasn't the type to be so aggressive, especially with you.

"I didn't mean for that to happen, John." You said weakly. He had to understand, you were just trying to get his attention.

"But it did y/n and now I'm gonna have to show you what happens when you don't fucking listen" He rages quietly, eyes still on the road ahead.

It was always quiet with him.

little did you know.

To the untrained eye, he seemed cool and collected. But, you could tell he wasn't quite there. Maybe it was the way he squeezed the life out of the steering wheel or how he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw. Or, you know, the massive tent in his pants…

either way, you knew

somehow, you managed to piss off Johnny Suh.

"I suggest you start thinking of a way to apologize because you have no fucking idea what I have planned for you." He momentarily looks at you just long enough for you to see the dangerous glint in his eyes

~

Arriving at Johnny's apartment, you found yourself comfortably settled on his couch while he busied himself in the kitchen, fetching a glass of water for you. Since his remark on the way here, a palpable silence hung in the air.

As he approached you with the glass of water, he broke the silence, "Thought of a way to apologize yet?"

You glanced up at him from your spot on the couch. "I'm sorry. I should've listened to you," you managed to utter, your gaze dropping to the floor, a strange sense of shame washing over you.

He snorted in response, "That's all you came up with, Y/n?"

Meeting his disappointed gaze, you took a deep breath. "I should've known better," you added quietly.

He sighed, handing you the glass of water. "Drink."

Taking the glass from his hands, you started sipping as he watched you in silence. Then, without breaking eye contact, he nonchalantly remarked, "I'm going to fuck some sense into you and then fuck it out of you."

You choked on your water, hastily wiping at your mouth as you stared at him in disbelief.

"Your apology wasn't going to satisfy me anyway. I made up my mind when you said no the first time," he asserted, his tone casual yet loaded with an underlying intensity that left you flustered and strangely intrigued.

"And what if I don't want it." You daringly ask.

you knew you did.

The way he was watching you made that clear as day.

"Then say no." He shrugs

"Now finish the drink and head upstairs when you're done."he adds

and you did exactly that.

~

Johnny was a man. You knew that, he knew that, and the whole world knew that. But sometimes, it felt like you didn't always keep that obvious characteristic at the forefront of your mind, as you should have.

Entering the room, nothing struck you as special. It was the same as always: his bed in the middle of the space, surrounded by walls adorned with retro posters and pictures he had taken over the years with friends, family, and you. Despite the numerous times you had visited his home, particularly his room, it didn't feel as intimate as it did now, and for some reason, that excited you.

As you let your gaze wander, movement from the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and you turned your focus to a strangely quiet Johnny.

You both stood in silence, staring at each other for what felt like long, drawn-out minutes.

"I didn't think I'd have to tell you to strip, y/n," he said seriosusly.

You hiccup, startled. "E-excuse me?"

He stepped closer to you. "Fucking strip."

Your heart hammered in your chest at the complete unfamiliarity of the situation.

"John, you can't be seri—"

His hands fisted in your hair, causing you to tilt your head up, meeting his hard gaze. "Strip. I won't ask again. You're always free to leave, y/n, but you and I both know you don't want to."

~

"move your hand"

you twist and turn writhing your body all over his bed, hand trying to stop his fingers from fucking into you.

"Johnny, please! I said i was sorry " you scream as tears line your eyes

"I said move your fucking hand" he grabs your writs and pins the above your head

his fingers pummeling into you repeatedly. long and thick. you felt like you could feel all the ridges and callouses on them. all the fucking veins. it was torture.

SQUELCH SQUELCH

you try to squeeze your thighs together only for him to pry them back open almost immediately.

it was almost embarrassing just how wet you were really

"God. Fuck you're all over my sheets baby hmm" he moans his eyes never leaving your pussy.

almost.

that did it for you though

"Johnny, Johnny m'cumming"

“not yet baby”

you couldn't hold it

“Y/n, I said not yet” his actions contradicted his words as his fingers curled rubbing against your g spot

your body involuntarily shoots up off the bed as your lower abdomen contracts

"I can't hold it."

You cum with a high-pitched scream. Squirting all over Johnny's hand before lifelessly falling back on the bed.

you’re trying to get your breathing under control when you hear Johnny’s displeased voice

"you don't fucking listen do you"

fingers still in you, he manages to add even more pleasure relentlessly pumping into you

your legs start trembling from the intense pressure building in your abdomen once again.

Your scream is ear piercing as you cum for the fourth time

fifth...

you don't even know.

gosh, He hadn't even fucked you yet

you didn't even realize the drool running down your chin. eyes rolled back and lashes fluttering, your skin gleaming with sweat and thighs trembling. Your chest heaved as you breathed hard still coming down from your high.

In Johnny's eyes, you looked so fucked out and so fucking pretty.

He knew his version of foreplay was intense but he also knew he took it a bit further just for you.

his stubborn girl. He loved it but you needed to be taught a lesson.

with your mouth wide agape, he takes the opportunity of your oblivious state and shoves his middle and index finger down your throat causing you to gag.

"taste yourself...that's right baby suck my fingers clean" He coos as your mouth clings to his fingers.

when satisfied he pulls his away

"knees" is all he says.

you mumble uncoherent words trying to tell him you can't get up but it seems he is already way ahead of you helping you get comfortable in your position on the floor.

He begins to pull his sweatpants down revealing his erection fighting against the fabric of his black underwear. he wastes no time in pulling his cock out and you almost drool.

so harsh but so fucking pretty.

big and veiny with the prettiest pink tip. No wonder the foreplay was so intense. there was no way he was gonna fit without stretching you that much.

You look up at him with hopeful eyes. you wanted him in your mouth so fucking bad your pussy actually ached.

"So cute," he spits in the palm of his hand before bringing it down to stroke his cock.

"open and suck" He states.

Wasting no time your hands replace his and you begin to pump his pretty cock. you lick from the base of his pretty cock to the even prettier pink tip teasing him just a little with small kitten licks

"no teasing" he warns.

But of course, you don't listen continuing to push him over the edge with those kitten licks. even having the audacity to maintain eye contact while doing it.

You see the way his jaw clenches as he loses his patience and grabs the back of your head thrusting and forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat.

Your eyes widen and begin to water as you start to harshly breathe through your nose.

Gagging multiple times as he continues to relentlessly fuck your mouth

"no teasing and you continue to fucking tease huh? who's fucking in charge here y/n? Who's fucking cock's fucking your pretty mouth?"

not being able to speak you hum around his cock watching as his gaze becomes more sadistic by the second.

"Ah fuck, you're gonna make me cum like this baby?" you hum in response causing him to groan from the vibrations

"Ah, shit"

You watch his expression contort into a pained one before he somehow manages to make his cock hit even further than the back of your throat and cums in your mouth.

"Dont waste it, baby, swallow for me" he says airly

you swallowed his mouth full of cum. loving the pleasantly salty taste.

you wheezed and choked so overwhelmed with just how rough Johnny really was.

Where was this side of him hiding?

holy fuck

"your mouth, keep it open," he grumbles still heaving firm his previous orgasm.

you open your mouth a gain forming an 'O' shape and surprise takes you as he spits in your mouth before lightly slapping you across the face.

your hair was all over the place and your entire face was decorated with a mixture of precum, smudged makeup, tears, snot, and sweat

"Atta Girl." he praises you.

He helps you to your feet before giving you a quick peck on your lips

"turn around and bend over. Yeah just like that... spread your legs for me"

you used the bed as support as you got into the desired position.

he wastes no time thrusting his cock into you rough and hard.

the sound of skin slapping and the squelching of your pussy around him cause your knees to buckle as you threaten to lose your stance.

You were gonna cum soon.

feeling your swaying form, he grabs your neck pulling you into him as your back meets his chest

"don't you fucking dare" he threatens.

"Ah... please please, please! m'sorry... m'so sorry I won't do it again just please make me cum john, I'll be good I swear" you cry gasping for air between words. soon your sentences jumble into a whole lot of nothing.

he keeps his hand wrapped around your neck as he uses the other to hold your hand behind your back

"no. Cum when I say so. you need to learn to fucking listen."

snapping his hips at a quick pace.

the area around your hips already beginning to bruise from how hard he was holding you.

"t'much please johnny!" You scream as your legs begin to shake for the umpteenth time

"you can fucking take it. This is what you wanted right? To piss me off? Having mark all on you like that?" he says begrudgingly

he grabs your left breast and squeezes your nipple hard enough for your pussy to clench around him

"so damn sensitive" he whispers in awe.

he pulls out and pushes you on the bed. you look back and he's

standing over you with messy hair, dark eyes, and a cock so erect it slapped against his stomach with the slightest movement.

"get on your back and spread your legs" he says pulling your legs to the edge of the bed .

You flip over and he immediately fucks into you even harder than before.

once again your hands flay erratically as you scream trying to get away from the aching pleasure that was starting to make you see double.

"look at that baby, " he coos eyes staring at your stomach.

you look down and see his cock bulging in your lower abdomen.

You gasp at the sight

'Johnny please" you whimper not even sure what you are asking for.

"I might just fuck a baby into you. keep you home like a good little wife hmm." he says seriously, eyes still set on the bulging in your lower abdomen.

you clenched around him liking the sound of carrying his children

"you like that huh? " He groans

you nod as tears start to stream down your face.

suddenly he stops thrusting causing you to cry out

"Just gimmie a second baby gotta fix your mistake," he says as he reaches over to his nightstand picking up his phone.

"I'm calling Mark " he says nonchalantly causing your heart to race.

"you're off-limits and they fucking know that but it seems all of you need to be reminded of how things are tonight hm?"

the dial tone blares out before a muffled "hello?" comes through the speaker. Mark.

"watch " Johnny says before he thrusts into you so fucking deep you could taste him

you moan loudly

barley registering the "fucking hell, man" that comes from the phone. That was Haechan

'watch' Johnny had said earlier and you begin to understand that it was a video call.

Mark and Haechan were witnessing Johnny fuck you into oblivion.

"see this? this is my fucking pussy and nobody else can fucking have it." he fucks your relentlessly a familiar feeling building in your stomach.

"j-johnny its t'much"

"nah, you can fucking take it."

"oh, fuck! " you scream into the pillow

"my fucking pussy and she can't give it away ain't that right y/n"

"mhmm" you say not having the strength actually speak.

you cum with a shiver and a whine and even then he didn't stop

still drilling his cock into you

overstimulating you more and more

you try to get away and he never once let his cock leave you.

"tell them how many times you cum tonight." He challenges, knowing full well that you couldn't form a word much less a sentence at the moment.

you mutter random words too fucked out to think

a sharp slap to your face brings you back

"how many fucking times?" he says through clenched teeth

"Alot" you scream.

"good girl" he says before hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room.

"just give me one more" he continues.

you moan as your toes curl from the overwhelming sensations building in your stomach

with a sharp thrust, you squirt all over Johnny's cock just as he cums inside you.

"next time you do that shit I’ll fuck you right in front of them instead of over the phone."

[midnight-els]

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the West Wing would have been even better if they'd had a White House cat. Some headcanons bc I was thinking about it today:

Jed gave the cat a very grand, biblical name. Everyone else has shortened it to something very stupid.

Obviously all of the press and the public adore the cat. There's a minor upset in a polling themed episode when Joey confirms that once again the cat has higher approval ratings than the president. Josh is cross that they are polling on this at all.

There is one chair in the Oval Office that is The Cat's Chair. The staff know not to sit there as you'll get a. covered in fur and b. screamed at by an irate cat trying to force you off. They never warn any of their least favourite congresspeople about this.

The cat wanders around in the background of episodes, often being chased or petted by the extras.

The cat is not allowed in the situation room. The cat is always in the situation room. They had to come up with a special bug detecting protocol for the cat in case anyone tried to take advantage of this.

Ripped from the headlines plot about a congressional investigation into something related to the cat, based on the incident about Clinton's cat's postage.

The cat LOVES Air Force One. The Secret Service do not love having to get him on board or captured to get back off.

Leo and the cat are best friends. They're basically this meme. Leo's the grandma. Jed is the mom.

Aside from Leo, the cat loves the secretaries best. They always have lots of treats for him in their desks. Debbie is the only one he doesn't get on with; she has resorted to using a plant mister to spray him when he tries to get on her desk.

Josh thinks he and the cat are archenemies. The cat hasn't paid more than 2 seconds notice to Josh in his life.

CJ and the cat are archenemies. CJ was very pro-cat until she caught it fishing in Gail's bowl one day. Now she's at war to keep it out of her office. She's still trying to convince Danny to write a piece exposing the cat's dark side to its adoring public. Carol is very tired.

Sam wants so badly to be best friends with the cat. The cat thinks he's trying too hard. Will ends up exactly the same way.

Toby and the cat have never properly interacted and both are very happy to leave it that way.

The cat is supposed to stay in the residence during big events. Abbey stopped enforcing that after he got out and scratched Lord John Marbury when he picked him up against his will.

The cat has a secret service code name. One time, the code names are changed and an overenthusiatic reporter tries to break a story on the first lady's 'unusual activity' by following what he thinks is her code name. It's the cat's. CJ dines out on this for weeks.

The cat occasionally goes missing. The secretaries and Charlie have a recurring B-plot where they have to go and recover him. Somehow, the cat has always ended up somewhere relevant to the A-plot.

The cat properly goes missing after the incidents with the Thanksgiving turkeys and the goat in CJ's office (aka prime cat territory). Each time she claims she'll be nicer to the cat when it returns. Each time it lasts about two days.

Margaret thinks the cat has psychic powers and frequently provides warnings based on her interpretations of 'the signs'. Usually she's right.

The cat somehow makes off with the final edits for the state of the union one time (of course they were only handwritten on one piece of paper). Chaos ensues.

Jed tries to send the cat to Manchester partway through the series. After large-scale outcry from the staff, press and public he is returned to the White House. Unfortunately, after a couple of months as a barn cat he is even more badly behaved than before.

The cat is in both Jed and Abbey's official portraits.

[solxamber]

How to Handle Your Diva || Vil Schoenheit

You’re the unofficial Vil Schoenheit handler, a role you assumed when you started dating him. Whether it’s calming his temper or redirecting his wrath, you’ve become the only one capable of keeping poor midguided souls from biting the dust.

aka the 7 times you save someone from getting poisoned or worse.

Instance 1: Chaos Duo

The serene backdrop of NRC’s gardens frames Vil Schoenheit like a painting come to life. Dressed in flowing silks and adorned with the perfect balance of sunlight and shadow, he’s mid-pose when—

“Yo, Vil! Say cheese!”

Ace and Deuce leap into the frame, pulling the most exaggerated faces imaginable. Deuce’s eyes are practically crossed, and Ace looks like he’s mid-sneeze. The photographer audibly chokes on his spit.

Vil freezes. The air goes cold. The birds stop singing. Somewhere in the distance, a withering rose drops a petal.

“What,” Vil says, so quiet it’s terrifying, “was that?”

“It was Ace’s idea!” Deuce blurts immediately, shoving Ace under the metaphorical bus.

“Thanks a lot, traitor!” Ace snaps back.

Vil’s eyes narrow. “You,” he hisses, voice dripping with venom, “have the audacity to ruin my shoot?”

By the time you arrive, the photographer is hiding behind a bush, and Ace and Deuce are sweating under Vil’s glare. The two freshmen look like they’re seconds away from turning into frogs—or corpses.

“Vil, sweetie,” you interrupt, stepping between them and the storm cloud forming above his head, “what’s going on?”

“These plebeians,” Vil says, gesturing at Ace and Deuce like they’re bacteria under a microscope, “thought it would be funny to sabotage my art!”

“They’re idiots,” you agree, shooting the freshmen a glare. “But let’s think about this. What if... this makes your shoot even better?”

Vil arches a perfectly sculpted brow. “Better?”

“Yeah!” you say, channeling all your persuasive powers. “When people see this, they’ll notice how your beauty shines even in the presence of—” you gesture vaguely at Ace and Deuce, “—mediocrity.”

“Mediocrity?” Ace repeats indignantly.

“Shut up,” you snap before turning back to Vil. “Think about it. They’ll see your grace, your poise, and how you completely outshine everyone around you. It’s contrast, Vil. Art loves contrast.”

Vil strokes his chin, considering. “You may have a point...”

“Totally! And, like, who would take them seriously anyway? Look at Deuce’s face. He looks like a confused pigeon.”

“Hey!” Deuce protests, but Ace is already nodding.

“Yeah, yeah! Vil, this just makes you look even cooler! Like, people will see this and be like, ‘Wow, he’s untouchable, even next to these losers.’”

Vil finally exhales, his wrath ebbing. “Very well,” he says, smoothing his silks. “I’ll allow it. But only because the juxtaposition highlights my perfection.”

Ace and Deuce sag in relief, clearly missing the word “juxtaposition.”

Later, Trey finds you in the hallway. “I heard what happened,” he says, looking both exasperated and grateful. “Thank you for stopping Vil from poisoning them. Again.”

You shrug. “All in a day’s work.”

Instance 2: Just Leona.

The group is gathered in the cafeteria, the usual buzz of conversation swirling around. Vil sits at the head of the table, eating his meticulously prepared salad—a work of art with perfect symmetry, vibrant greens, and an edible flower garnish.

Leona slouches in his chair nearby, tearing into a steak with all the grace of a feral lion. He pauses mid-bite, glances at Vil's plate, and snorts loud enough to turn heads.

"What's that, Schoenheit? Rabbit food?"

The air grows thick. Vil’s fork stops mid-air, his gaze snapping to Leona like a hawk spotting prey. "Excuse me?" he says, in that icy tone that sends chills down spines.

Leona smirks, undeterred. "You heard me. All those leaves and petals—looks like something I’d feed to the herbivores back home."

There’s a collective oh no from everyone nearby. Jack visibly stiffens, eyes darting between the two like he’s watching a live-action disaster. You’re pretty sure Grim just whispered, “This is gonna be good,” from somewhere behind you.

"It’s called maintaining one’s figure," Vil snaps, placing his fork down with calculated grace. “You wouldn’t understand, considering your diet seems to consist entirely of undercooked meat and mediocrity.”

Leona leans back, looking as smug as a cat in a sunbeam. “At least I eat like a king. Meanwhile, you’re over there grazing like the royal gardener.”

The tension escalates. Vil’s hand twitches toward his fork, and you’re suddenly very sure he’s planning to plant it somewhere deeply unfortunate on Leona.

Time to intervene.

“Vil,” you cut in smoothly, leaning closer to him, “can I just say, you look amazing today? Honestly, I don’t think anyone else could pull off a salad with such elegance.”

Vil blinks, momentarily startled, before his lips curve into a faintly smug smile. “Well,” he says, primly dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, “I do have a certain flair for refinement. It’s not something just anyone can achieve.”

“No, it’s not,” you say firmly, throwing Leona a warning glance. “And anyone who doesn’t see that is clearly just... jealous.”

Leona snorts again but doesn’t push further, clearly uninterested in escalating now that Vil’s focus is on being praised rather than plotting homicide.

Jack gives you a subtle, grateful nod, visibly relieved that he won’t have to referee another dorm-versus-dorm war.

As Vil returns to his salad with renewed dignity, you sit back with a sigh, silently adding prevented cafeteria murder to your list of daily accomplishments.

Instance 3: Theatre Club Madness

It starts, as all things do, with Floyd and his unique brand of chaos. This time, it’s a priceless antique vase from Pomefiore’s lounge that met its tragic end because Floyd “wanted to see if it could fly.”

Spoiler: it couldn’t.

Vil, who witnessed the entire ordeal, was seconds away from summoning a storm of consequences when Floyd, in a rare flash of survival instinct, promised to repay the debt.

“I’ll help with your little drama thing,” Floyd had said with a grin too wide to trust.

That promise didn’t even make it a full day.

By the time Azul appears in Ramshackle, wringing his hands, you already know something’s gone terribly wrong.

“Vil asked Floyd to star in some action scenes for his theater production,” Azul says, clearly on edge. “But Floyd... Well, he’s Floyd.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess. He skipped?”

“Skipped, vanished, and laughed about it,” Azul confirms. “Vil is furious. I fear he might—”

“Poison the Lounge’s water?” you finish for him.

Azul nods gravely.

Which is how you find yourself in Pomefiore’s theater, holding a script titled The Tragic Tale of Honor and Glory and wearing an outfit that feels heavier than your life choices.

Vil sits in the audience, arms crossed, as you nervously adjust the overly ornate shoulder pads. “Darling, I adore you,” he says smoothly, “but if you ruin my vision, we will have words.”

“Right,” you mutter. “No pressure or anything.”

Rook, of course, is thrilled. “What a magnifique turn of events! A real-life romance brought to life on stage!” he says, twirling a prop sword before handing it to you.

You glance at the script and immediately regret every decision that’s led you here. Floyd’s role isn’t just action-heavy—it’s absurd. You’re supposed to fend off imaginary enemies, deliver heartfelt speeches, and somehow “leap gracefully” across a prop chasm.

“Are we sure this isn’t a punishment?” you whisper to Rook.

“Every great artist suffers for their craft!” he replies, as unhinged as ever.

Rehearsals are... an experience. Vil critiques your sword stance, your dramatic pauses, and even the way you hold the fake shield. “You’re not a barbarian,” he snaps at one point. “This is a knightly role. Show some dignity!”

The only thing keeping you sane is the occasional glimpse of Vil’s smile when you nail a scene. He’s still your Vil—meticulous, demanding, and, beneath it all, proud of you.

By the end of the day, you’re exhausted, but no one’s been poisoned, and Vil is satisfied.

“Darling,” he says as you collapse into a chair, “you might just be a natural.”

You groan in response, but secretly, you’re glad. If starring in a play keeps the peace and earns you a proud smile from your perfectionist boyfriend, it’s worth every ridiculous leap and over-the-top speech.

You're not letting Floyd off the hook though, he now owes you a blood debt.

Instance 4: Runway Disaster

It happens in slow motion. Kalim, with his usual sunshine energy, bounds over to greet Vil during a fitting for his latest custom runway outfit. In one hand, he holds a crystal goblet of bright red juice.

“Kalim, no—” Jamil tries to intervene, but he’s too late.

One excited gesture later, the goblet tilts. The juice spills. And Vil’s pristine white couture ensemble is suddenly dyed a tragic, splotchy crimson.

For a moment, the room is deathly silent. Kalim freezes, his smile faltering as Vil’s expression shifts from shock to something that resembles a villainous Disney queen summoning her final form.

“Oh no,” Jamil mutters, stepping back like a man who knows better than to get involved in an impending disaster.

Vil’s fingers twitch, and actual poison gas starts to swirl faintly around him.

“You…” he begins, voice deadly calm, eyes narrowed at Kalim, who looks like he’s considering whether running or apologizing is the better survival tactic.

Before Vil can unleash his fury (or toxins), you jump in, grabbing his arm like a brave but foolish hero.

“Wait! Think of the headlines,” you blurt. “The great Vil Schoenheit doesn’t panic when disaster strikes. He innovates. He adapts. He turns accidents into opportunities!”

Vil pauses, glancing at you with an arched brow. “Go on.”

“This isn’t a catastrophe—it’s a creative challenge,” you say, channeling your best salesperson energy. “You can redesign the outfit on the fly, show off your genius in real time, and prove why you’re the best.”

Jamil, who’s still lurking near the door, lets out a faint groan. “Don’t drag me into this—”

“Perfect!” you cut him off, pointing dramatically. “Jamil, help us. You’re good with details. Kalim, you’re... great at handing over fabric?”

“I am?” Kalim perks up, always happy to help, even when he’s the source of the problem.

Vil exhales sharply but lowers his hands, the faint poison clouds dissipating. He turns to you, his lips twitching upward in something resembling reluctant approval. “At least someone here recognizes talent when they see it.”

Half an hour later, Jamil is threading needles with the speed of a man who just wants this ordeal to end, Kalim is cheerfully sorting through fabric swatches, and Vil is in full designer mode, issuing commands and adjusting details.

You’re stuck holding a pin cushion and occasionally offering words of encouragement, but hey, no one’s been poisoned, and Vil’s outfit is somehow looking even better than before.

When it’s finished, Vil studies the revamped ensemble with a critical eye, then turns to you.

“Not bad,” he says, which, coming from Vil, is practically a standing ovation.

Kalim beams. “This was fun! Let’s spill juice more often!”

Jamil groans audibly, and Vil rolls his eyes, muttering something about how his brilliance is wasted on “uncultured chaos.” But when he glances at you, there’s a soft glimmer of gratitude.

Maybe you won’t have to stop a literal poison attack every day, but you’re definitely earning your stripes as the official Vil Schoenheit Disaster Manager™.

Instance 5: Epel, why?

Epel’s first mistake is thinking he can sneak a greasy burger into the Pomefiore lounge. His second mistake is sitting right in front of Vil to eat it.

The moment Vil spots the offensive food item, his entire posture stiffens. Slowly, he sets down the teacup he was holding, a faint air of menace radiating from him.

“Epel,” Vil says, voice dangerously calm, “are you seriously eating... that in my presence?”

Epel freezes mid-bite, the burger hovering inches from his mouth. “Uh, I mean... it’s just a quick snack—”

“It’s processed garbage,” Vil snaps, his tone sharp enough to cut diamonds. “Do you even know what’s in it? Chemicals, preservatives, and enough grease to clog your arteries by the time you’re twenty-five!”

You can almost see the poison aura starting to swirl, and your instincts kick in. There’s only one way to de-escalate this. Compliments. Lots of them.

“You know, Vil,” you interject brightly, sidling closer to him, “I’ve been meaning to tell you how absolutely flawless your skin looks today. Did you do something different? A new serum, maybe?”

Vil blinks, momentarily thrown off. “I did switch to a more concentrated vitamin C serum this morning.”

“Wow,” you gush, “it’s really working. You’re practically glowing! Honestly, you look like you just stepped off the cover of a magazine.”

Vil preens slightly, his focus shifting from Epel to himself. Epel catches your subtle hand signal—Run, you fool, run while you still can!—and starts to edge toward the door, burger clutched tightly in his hands.

Rook, who has been lurking silently nearby as usual, suddenly claps his hands together, eyes sparkling. “Ah, mon cher ami, how touching! Such devotion, such cleverness, to save our dear Epel from the wrath of Monsieur Vil! Truly, a love as radiant as the sun itself!”

Vil narrows his eyes at Rook, then at you, clearly aware of what you’ve just pulled. For a second, you think he might ignore your distraction entirely and summon some ancient Pomefiore curse to turn Epel into a cautionary tale.

But then he sighs and shakes his head. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, though there’s a faint, reluctant smile on his lips.

Later, as Rook waxes poetic about your “unwavering dedication,” Vil leans in close and murmurs, “I hope you know that if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have let this slide.”

“I know,” you say, grinning.

“And you owe me a handmade, organic, non-processed dinner tonight,” he adds, though his tone is more affectionate than demanding.

Fair enough. You’ve just saved Epel from doom and earned yourself a little more of Vil’s soft spot in the process. Not a bad trade-off.

Instance 6: Housewarden meeting

It all starts when Idia mutters the fatal words under his breath at the housewarden meeting.

“Skincare’s just a corporate scam for gullible people, anyway.”

The air goes still. A deathly quiet spreads across the room, save for the faint thump of a pen dropping somewhere in the background. You look up in horror, eyes darting to Vil, who has frozen mid-reading. Slowly, methodically, Vil sets the paper down with the poise of a storm brewing on the horizon.

“Excuse me?” Vil’s voice is icy, his gaze locking onto Idia with the precision of a predator that has just spotted its prey.

Idia, realizing his monumental mistake, turns pale. His flaming hair flickers nervously. “Uh—uh—wait, no, I didn’t mean—uh, you know, for other people, not you! Definitely not you, You’re obviously an exception—uh, outlier—uh—uhhhhh...”

You can see it in Vil’s eyes: hexes. Hexes upon hexes. Idia’s social credit is about to go into the negatives, and it’s up to you to stop this trainwreck before it derails completely.

“Vil, darling,” you say quickly, sliding up beside him and placing a calming hand on his arm, “why waste your brilliance on people who clearly don’t understand skincare? They’re the ones missing out. Why not show them how effective it really is instead?”

Vil’s brow raises, his attention turning to you. “Show them?”

You nod earnestly. “Absolutely. A real-world demonstration. I’ll be your model. You can prove to the entire campus how flawless your methods are by working your magic on me.”

Idia, still rooted to his chair, looks at you with wide, desperate eyes, mouthing, Thank you, oh my god.

Vil considers this for a moment, the dangerous glint in his eyes dimming slightly. “Hm. That does have potential. It’s true that nothing speaks louder than results...” He narrows his gaze at you. “But don’t think this will be easy. You’re going to follow my instructions exactly.”

“Of course,” you say, internally praying you don’t end up with a ten-step skincare routine involving rare herbs and unicorn tears.

Three hours later, you’re sitting in Vil’s dorm room with half your face slathered in a gold-infused sheet mask, while he critiques the lighting for your before-and-after photos. Idia has not only escaped with his life but is actively hiding in Ignihyde, no doubt sobbing into his console for letting this happen.

The next morning, Ortho drops off a neatly wrapped package with a note:

"Thank you for keeping Big Brother from turning into a toad. This is our thank you. Please use it wisely. - Ortho"

Inside is a supply of snacks that Vil would never allow, soda and a very generous gift card.

At least your skin has never looked better

Instance 7: Fashion Show Debate

It happens during the final stages of Vil’s meticulously planned fashion show rehearsal in Pomefiore’s grand hall. The decorators are frantically running around, while Vil oversees every detail with the precision of a hawk. It’s flawless—until Sebek’s voice booms through the air like a thunderclap.

“FASHION IS A POINTLESS PURSUIT WHEN COMPARED TO THE NOBLE ART OF SWORDSMANSHIP!”

Every head swivels toward Sebek, who stands tall, arms crossed, utterly convinced of his own wisdom. He continues, undeterred by the growing silence. “Who cares what you wear when you’re on the battlefield?! True strength lies not in silks and satins, but in the heart of a warrior!”

Vil freezes mid-step, his clipboard trembling in his hand. Slowly, he turns, and you swear you see the faintest shimmer of poison green pooling in his eyes. His glare could cut through steel.

“Excuse me?” Vil says, each syllable sharp and measured.

Sebek, being Sebek, barrels on, entirely oblivious to the danger he’s wading into. “Clothing is irrelevant when facing an opponent of true skill! A warrior’s resolve is their most valuable armor!”

Lilia, lounging nearby, starts wheezing with laughter, clearly finding the whole ordeal the height of entertainment. “Oh, this is delightful. Do go on, Sebek!”

You, however, sense disaster brewing. The tension in Vil’s jaw could snap diamonds, and Sebek’s volume seems to be increasing with every word. If this isn’t diffused soon, you’re going to witness Sebek walking the runway in a cursed tutu and heels.

Thinking quickly, you stride over to Sebek and place a firm hand over his mouth. “Sebek, remember the gargoyle incident?” you say in a low voice.

Sebek freezes, his face going pale. You lean in closer for effect.

“You know,” you continue casually, “the time you spent twenty minutes praising a gargoyle in the castle courtyard because you thought it was Malleus in the dark? Magnificent presence were your exact words, I believe?”

Sebek’s eyes widen in pure panic.

“When you finally realized your mistake,” you add, voice dripping with mock sympathy, “you begged me to swear on my life that I wouldn’t tell Malleus. Do you think he’d laugh? I think he’d laugh.”

Sebek emits a muffled noise beneath your hand, his entire posture deflating. He waves his arms frantically in surrender. You let go, and he turns stiffly to Vil, bowing his head. “My apologies. I spoke out of turn.”

Vil raises a perfectly arched eyebrow but seems satisfied with the reluctant apology. “As you should be. Now, be silent, or I’ll personally ensure you end in heels forever.”

Crisis averted, you glance at Lilia, who gives you an approving wink. Sebek, meanwhile, retreats to the shadows, muttering under his breath about unfair tactics and treacherous secrets.

As the models resume their walk, Vil brushes past you with a quiet, “Good work, darling. Though I’ll admit, I wouldn’t have minded seeing him in heels.”

It’s one of those rare, quiet evenings where the world outside seems to hum in stillness. You’re sprawled on the bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, savoring the precious downtime. The soft creak of the floorboards is your only warning before Vil’s hands are gently pulling you into his arms.

Startled, you set your phone aside and look up at him. “What’s up?”

Vil doesn’t answer immediately. He sits on the edge of the bed, arms encircling you as if shielding you from the entire universe. His expression is unusually soft, his gaze tracing over your features like he’s memorizing every detail.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says at last, his voice quieter than you’re used to. “You do so much for me. More than I deserve sometimes.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What are you talking about? You deserve the world, Vil.”

A faint smile tugs at his lips, but there’s something vulnerable in the way he looks away for a moment. “I know I’m... a little demanding.”

You snort, which earns you a mock glare. “Okay, fine, maybe a little more than a little." You laugh “But it’s not like I mind.”

“You should. Most people would,” he counters, but his tone is softer now, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’ve been working so hard to keep up with me, to make me happy, even when I’m being a diva.”

That makes you laugh, and the sound seems to melt the last of his hesitation. You cup his cheek, thumb brushing lightly against his flawless skin. “Vil, it’s not hard work. It’s a labor of love.”

His eyes widen just a fraction, and then his smile blooms—gentle, radiant, and so genuinely Vil. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re impossible,” he murmurs, but the affection in his voice betrays him.

“And yet you love me anyway,” you quip, grinning.

Vil huffs a laugh, his arms tightening around you as he pulls you into a proper embrace. “Hopelessly.”

You stay like that for a while, wrapped in the warmth of each other, the world outside forgotten. It’s just you and Vil, caught in a moment that feels like love personified—sweet, steady, and infinite.

(this is kinda a spiritual successor to the how to tame your dragon malleus fic)

Masterlist

[d1s1ntegrated]

Imagine Shigaraki with shy bookworm reader, who just hides her face blushes behind a book when she feels like he’s nearby?🤭

bookworm (nsfw)

shigaraki x shy!reader oneshot

summary: shigaraki catches you reading a verrryyyy dirty novella, and makes those chapters feel real.

btw this wasnt proofread, sorry if there are some minor mistakes!

cw: dirty talk, p/v, rough sex, overstimulation, corruption kink, slight breeding kink?, oral (fem rec), groping, shiggy is a hugeeee perv, mean shiggy, shy reader, missionary, teasing, dacryphilia, begging, minimal use of y/n, degradation, slight book abuse (sorry! but its for the plot)

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

"what are you doing?" shigaraki's voice cuts through the paragraph you were halfway through, causing you to jump. you slide your bookmark slowly between the pages.

"just reading" you answer him softly, and he scoffs.

"tch, again?" he rolls his eyes, "are you gonna do anything else today?"

you shake your head, reopening to the page you left off on. "probably not. it just got good" you retort, and refocus your eyes onto the dramatic scene. you look up at him over the top of the book- he's perched up on the arm of the old couch, picking at the already-ripped hangnails on his calloused hands. you watch him secretly for a few seconds before you plant your nose back into the book again, sighing contentedly. he suddenly interrupts you again by sliding down the arm and plopping down onto the worn seat. he audibly sighs and groans, and you tilt your head at him.

"is something wrong, shigaraki?" you ask innocently, and he huffs.

"tch. no. i'll leave you be" he slinks off the couch and heads over to the bar. you watch as he runs his slender fingers through his baby blue hair, and smile to yourself. he throws himself onto a barstool dramatically and you giggle lightly, but catch yourself.

"you know" he starts from across the room, "if you spent half as much time with the league as you do reading, you might actually learn something useful" he says matter-of-factly, and you bite your lip, fighting the urge to say something back.

its not that you weren't involved with the leagues missions- you were their perfect alibi. a small bookshop owner who just so happened to settle into the wrong part of town. it wasn't your fault the league found you useful, and it certainly wasn't your fault that their bribe was far too good to pass up. keep the shop, and you, out of chaos's way, and they use your place as not only a hideout, but a resource for information.

over the past few months playing pretend with them, you actually grew comfortable with the villains. toga came to the shop regularly with magne to read every trashy romance novel and gossip with you about boys. kurogiri would pop in and out on the premise of "needing information per tomura's request", and twice and spinner both enjoyed the comic section from time to time. you didn't see much of dabi, but when you did, he'd flit through the horror section, then secretly the romance section, ultimately to leave without a word, with a few books tucked under his coat. you acted like you didn't notice, because after a week or so, they'd return to their spots on the shelves. the only one you didn't see regularly was shigaraki.

shigaraki avoided seeing you as much as possible, and you subconsciously did the same. he liked to stay in his secluded hideaway, left to his own devices (literally, his devices. aka his PC). but when you started living at their base because your lease ended, and you didn't have the money to renew it AND keep the bookshop running (undercover work is hard, y'know!), you realized fast why exactly you didn't like coming face to face with tomura.

not only was he kind of an asshole, not to mention competitive, with a sharp and venomous tongue, he was so, so hot. his scars decorated his face like little strokes of paint on a canvas. his angular nose and carmine eyes were placed so perfectly on his pale skin. his thin lips dragging upwards into a predatory grin whenever he spoke of all things horrid. withal, the little birthmark just below those lips, that you found yourself fantasizing about kissing from time to time. just to see what it'd be like, of course. pure curiosity, nothing more. overall, the man was a picture-perfect portrait of your worst nightmare antagonist from the books you loved so much.

you weren't afraid of him per se, but you damn sure were intimidated. so you kept your head low, and your voice down around him. you were typically the quiet type, but something about him made you silent. as if one wrong word would cause him to turn and grip you tightly with all five fingers, turning you to nothing more than a fleeting memory.

he got off on your timidity. he looked at you like a helpless bunny, and he was the big scary wolf. you'd never admit it, but you got off on it equally the same. so when he'd approach you, you'd shove your face further into the pages of your book, as if getting closer to the words would save you from his vermillion gaze.

"i'm sorry, shigaraki. i just figured the further i stay away from the league's...well, anything, it would be safer for us overall." you masterfully answer him as to not provoke him. he stands from his seat and cracks his knuckles, dragging out his next reply.

"that doesn't mean you have to be completely oblivious to the world around you." he slowly approaches the back of the couch, and you feel yourself heat up at the proximity. he leans over the couch slightly to get closer, and you instinctively raise the book to cover everything up to your eyes. you blink at him and he smirks.

"what are you reading, anyways?" he snatches the book from your hands with three fingers and flips through it, eyes widening at the passage he lands on. he raises his eyebrows and you sink into yourself, covering your face with the sleeves of your oversized jumper.

"please," you croak out, "can i have it back?". your pleading sends a devilish smile to creep onto his face, and he shoves the book back into your hands.

"i didn't know our perfect little y/n was so, so filthy" he draws your name out with a teasing tone.

your face flushes and he chuckles.

"and here i thought you were the spitting image of innocence. seems as though i thought wrong for once" his face is inches from yours, his fingers tapping against the back of the couch. you can smell the combination of redbull and musky cologne on him, he's so close. you inhale sharply, breath hitching in your chest as he saunters around, swinging himself back over onto the unoccupied seat of the couch.

you don't answer as he asks another tantalizing question, causing him to lean over onto your legs, repeating it.

"i said," he raises his eyes to meet yours, "why'd you turn so quiet all of a sudden?"

you shake your head and look up at him, hovering over you.

"i'm always quiet..." you reply shakily, and he laughs.

"you're so pitiful, y/n, you know that?" he snakes a hand up to your thigh, drumming four fingers against the exposed skin under your shorts.

you nod and try to ignore him best as possible by reopening the book. this makes him even bolder, as he pinches your thigh, between thumb and forefinger, causing you to gasp out from behind the novel.

"don't act like i didn't see what you were reading there, slut." his voice is lower now, and his words slice through the core of your stomach and send pangs of heat through you. you giggle nervously as he creeps further, covering your very obvious desire with chapter 32 of your now clearly smutty book. he chuckles and drags his fingers under your sweater, tucking his ring finger down as not to hurt you. he trails up, underneath the hem of your bra, and forcefully pinches at one of your already-puffy nipples. you stifle a moan as you feel your core liquify, and he groans at the contact of your soft flesh on his cold, rough fingers. he pushes himself on top of you, your legs automatically spreading open for him as he drives his still-clothed hips down to meet yours. the friction alone drives you both wild, and he growls.

"you ever read any books where the villain gets the girl?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. you don't answer, but peer at him over the top of the book again and nod.

"is this one of them?" he flicks the back of the book and you jump, but nod again.

he hums passionately at your reaction and answer. then, without warning, he grips onto the hem of your shorts with all five fingers, sending them off of you into a pile of dust. your eyes widen, and you frown slightly. at least they were old, and already kind of ready to be replaced. he laughs and undoes the button of his jeans, yanking his pants and boxers down with them. you watch as his cock springs free, taken aback by the sheer size of it. it's not huge, but it's lengthy still, with a pretty dusty rose tint to the tip. it glistens with precum already, and he strokes it with three fingers as he watches you squirm, body clearly acting faster than your mind.

he grinds his dick down between your legs, brushing against the soft cotton of your underwear. he exhales sharply at the contact, and you bite your lip, feeling your wetness pressed against the material.

he pushed the seam of your panties to the side and dips a slender finger inside of you, and you gasp. he curls it, massaging one of your spots before promptly removing the finger and placing it into his mouth, sucking your essence off his finger with a slick pop, moaning.

"fuck, you taste better than i expected" he grumbles, and you whimper out a "hmm?"

"i don't know why i expected you to taste like paper or somethin'" he snickers and lowers his head down to your heat, licking your clit lazily. you moan out loud this time, with breathy little pants as his tongue dips into you. where he learned this, you're unsure, but his devouring sends your head back against the arm of the couch, unable to stifle your desperation anymore. he shoves a finger back inside while his mouth licks and nips at your swollen clit, and you feel yourself cresting towards orgasm. your eyes flutter shut as the tension inside of you builds, further and further, driving you insane. you whimper at his rapid movements, and the tight strings inside of you snap suddenly, sending white-hot currents to ripple through you. you clench tightly around his finger and he laps up your cum greedily, groaning at your collapse.

"i'm gonna show you why it's so important to pay attention to the outside world, baby" he whispers in your ear as he positions his cock to your opening. you nod and he presses the tip in slowly, emitting a small gasp from the both of you. he shudders as he slips it in, feeling you already clenched around his length.

he yanks the book from your hands, uncovering your face. he tosses the book to the floor and wraps four fingers around your neck gently.

"need you to pay attention to me baby, those words aren't gonna fuck you like i will" he thrusts into you hard, disallowing you to adjust fully. he pulls out and you breathe deeply, but he doesn't wait. he shoves it back in forcefully, the tip smacking against your cervix. you groan out in a mix of pleasure and pain, and he tightens the grasp on your neck slightly.

"look so good like this, slut, taking the big villains cock like this" he grumbles out into your ear, and you melt into a pool of desire. his words are enough to send you, but you hold back, craving more of him. he begins rutting into you rhythmically, slamming into your core with soft "slaps". he brings his hand off your neck to grab your face, pressing his cracked lips to yours. he shoves his tongue into your mouth and you taste yourself, sending a shiver down your spine. his moans tangle with yours as he picks up speed, and you feel as he sequentially grinds against your clit, the soft hair creating friction on your sensitive spot. you whimper at the contact and he bites on your lower lip.

"tell me how much you like this, filthy whore. tell me how badly you want my vile seed inside of you." he growls against your lips and you shiver again.

"i, shigaraki, please, i need it" you stutter out, and he groans.

"you're so pathetic. you want me to ruin you, huh?" he ends the question with a hard thrust, a shockwave of pain coursing through you. you nod and he continues, "what a depraved thing you are. you sit in front of me every fucking day and tease me, you know that?" he snarls.

"yes, i'm sorry, shigaraki, i'm sorry for being so filthy" you cry out, and he sends a swift slap to your thigh.

"don't apologize. i don't need an apology. i want to hear you beg." he sneers.

"please, shigaraki, please" you follow his orders dutifully, and he smiles wide.

"please what, wicked baby?" he thrusts into you hard and fast, his breathing staggering.

"please, let me cum, please, i need it, i need you to break me" you admit with tears rolling down your cheeks. he growls again and smacks your thigh again, digging four fingers into the pliable flesh again.

"break you? oh no, slut. i'm going to make it so that even the gods will turn their backs to you. you're mine, and by that, you're just as sick as i am now" he snaps, his voice a raspy and heavy breath. you clench tightly around him, his cock stretching you painfully still as you feel every ounce of purity in you dissipate. your moans and cries permeate the air with a sharpness that the whole city could hear, and you shatter forcefully around him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer as your hips buck up, riding up to the intensity of the orgasm with a rushed mantra of "fucks, please's, and yes's." your own voice shocks you as the peak hits you, causing you to shout his name out with offensive indulgence.

"fuck, tomu, oh fuckfuckfuck, tomura" his name spills from your lips like honey, and he fractures inside of you at the sound. he pushes himself as deep as he can, hissing as he spills inside of you. the heat seeps through your entire body, feeling the stickiness coating your walls deeply. he twitches inside of you as he crashes down from his own orgasm, and sucks in air sharply as he pulls out slowly. the pain immediately hits you, choking a sharp cry out of you.

he hovers over you still, nipping at your neck. you sob out from overstimulation as he pumps his cum inside you more with a finger again for a few seconds before pulling it out.

"had to make sure it was really in there" he whispers, and you huff weakly.

"so?" he asks quietly, growling next to your ear, "was it comparable to your shitty book?" he teases. you nod and glance at the book strewn on the floor.

"better than." your voice is strained from the screaming, and he chuckles. you reach down and grab the title off the floor, shoving it into his hands, and on instinct he grabs hold of it with only a few fingers. you shake your head and motion with your hands.

"get rid of it." you say dismissively, and he gives you a confused look.

"it was only a placeholder for you anyways" you shrug, and with a snicker, he wraps his hands fully around the book as it crumbles to dust in his hands.

"does this mean you're done with the reading?" he asks snarkily, and you shake your head.

"no, it just means i'm done trying to compare you to a few chapters."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

eeeenjoy! i went kinda hard with this one ngl. i lowkey really wanted a reason to write a little out of my usual loser!shiggy style, and something took over me for this.

thank you as always for the request <3