#and not the gentle fairytale animals i thought they were

[yourheartinyourmouth]

i went to HORSE CAMP every summer for like 4 years.

best fucking times of my life.

[delirious-donna]

tw: female reader, suggestive, yearning, reader is adored, could be considered somno but reader wakes up before anything starts, implied pussy eating, he just loves you so so much

The bed was pleasantly warm, so comforting against your spine. Soft sheets cradled your form as if trying to lull you into slumber, whilst the book you held slipped between your fingers as tiredness pressed against your eyes.

The spotlight from the bedside lamp painted the most magical shadows against the wall, the conjurations seeming to dance from the gentle fairy lights that twinkled around the room's edges. It was like a fairytale landscape but you fought the sleep that tried to tease you into surrender as if it were a dragon to be slain.

You waited, not sure how much longer it would be before you could be reunited with your lover. It felt too empty in here without him, his presence such a welcome and soothing one that you missed it all the more when he was gone.

Thoughts of the man you loved were the last ones you could recall before sleep pressed you deep into the mattress.

You were so cute, sweeter than the sugary candies he sometimes indulged in, and he was dying for a taste.

The sight of you prone on your squishy bed, chest rising and falling gently whilst you slumbered was just what he needed after the tediousness of the day. The veil of fatigue lifted enough to know that he wouldn’t be ready for sleep until he had you in his arms, his lips on every inch of your glowing sleep-soaked skin.

He padded silently towards the bed and knelt carefully so as not to disturb his sleeping angel.

For a long moment he admired your adorable pyjamas with the white fluffy bunny print–his personal favourites–with a lazy smile curling his lips at how the shorts bunched around your plush thighs. It was like he could already feel your softness beneath his touch, and he swiped his tongue across his teeth at the thought.

Slowly, like a stealthy animal, he crawled towards you. He watched through hooded eyes as he kissed up your smooth calf, enjoying the slight squirm of your hips when he reached the inside of your knee.

You smelled of your favourite body wash and he inhaled deeply until only you filled his head. He palmed you through the thin barrier of your pyjama shorts, instantly feeling your warmth and wishing to nuzzle against you.

It strained his dick to almost pain. The restraint of his pants uncomfortably tight, length throbbing with the close proximity to your pretty little pussy. His pretty little pussy… fuck.

Carnal thoughts of tasting your unique essence on his tongue, your thighs pressing against his ears and the hands that would switch between caressing and tugging on his hair, filled his mind. It made him crazy with need for you, and only you.

Deft fingers curled around the flimsy waistband, tugging the shorts down your legs until they flew into an unknown corner of the darkened room. Groans of you waking roused him enough to stare into that sleepy face that made him want to present you with his heart on a gilded platter.

“Baby?”

“Mhm, it’s me. I missed you,” he assured whilst his fingers tangled with your own, shifting your hands into the messy strands of his hair before pulling away to trace the glistening pussy lips that he was desperate to taste.

You blinked rapidly at familiar eyes glazed with desire, and it was enough to twist your stomach into knots. The swell of emotions that he evoked in you was so powerful that you could sense the slick building with every second that passed.

His lips were feverish, a contradiction to the usual cool sweep of his mouth, as they pressed against your skin. His dexterous hand snaked between your thighs only for you to press them tightly together in a mixture of embarrassment and seeking out that much-needed friction.

You let out a whimper as he sucked bruises of possession into your flesh, almost crying out aloud in simple ecstasy when he spoke once more.

“Now spread your legs and try to tell me about your day.”

Kuroo, Bokuto, Daichi, Suna, Osamu, Kakashi*, Obito, Kiba, Nanami, Gojo, Choso, Erwin, Levi, Reiner, Kunikida, Fuzukawa, Chuuya, Aizawa, Keigo, Sebastian, Hanma, Zhongli, Wriothesley, Kaeya + your fave that fits the story!

*I’m including Kakashi even though he doesn’t like sweets!

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 5.5

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, introspection

series masterlist │my masterlist

“did you mean it? when you said you would want me even if i was more like,” a pause, “like an animal?”

you hum, cuddling further into his side, chasing the warmth of shared body heat. “of course. i kind of miss it, actually. there’s something weirdly attractive about you acting on just pure instinct, you know?”

he doesn’t know, actually. his entire life he’s been told to behave in a certain way - there were those who wanted him to be an animal, a violent killer with no human morals or thoughts to interfere with his orders, and those who told him he needed to reign in the feral aspects of his mutation, who called him a monster for the way he was born.

even amongst mutants he wasn’t always treated well. they had interesting abilities, beautiful things that belonged in movies or books or fairytale stories. they could control the elements and create things from practically nothing, while he only knew how to destroy. he brought chaos and bloodshed everywhere he went.

he was the kind of mutant that made people uncomfortable, the kind of mutant people saw as a freak of nature, a mistake. people like him were the reason mutants would never be accepted within society. he was too violent, too dangerous, too much of a threat.

they would fight for mutant rights, but turn right around and tell him to hide who he was, to be gentle or kind or better, whatever they decided that meant. because his nature made everyone uncomfortable.

and he understood that. because logan hated himself as much, if not more, than they all seemed to hate him. he’s always hated his instincts, hated how it made him feel, hated the way he felt that he couldn’t always control himself, hated what they made him.

so he’s always hidden parts of himself, never fully revealing who he is to anyone. in return, he finds people who love him, or at least who claim that they do, and the need for acceptance that presses down on his heart lessens into a bearable weight.

it was why he’d been so ashamed when he’d started to regain his memories, flashes of his past showing up in his dreams. for months he’d acted on his natural instincts with you, every lesson he’s ever been taught temporarily erased from his mind. he’d allowed himself to be wild, feral, a disgusting beast that doesn’t qualify as human. a monster.

and yet here you are, telling him that you find it attractive, smiling at him as if he hasn’t spent his entire life running from himself, being hunted down for his mutation for one reason or another, either to kill or to use. he’s a weapon to some, an uncontrollable animal to others, a mutant to be trained for a new purpose every time someone new finds him.

but to you, he’s just logan.

you don’t run or hide from what he is, you accept him with open arms. and that’s terrifying, the trust that you’ve placed in him, because all he’s ever done is hurt people, and you have absolutely no defences, nothing to protect you when he inevitably fucks up again.

he doesn’t think he’ll be able to let go of everything he’s taught himself just like that, let go of the control he’s spent centuries honing and perfecting to allow his instincts to crawl to the forefront of his mind. not after so long. but it physically hurts him to hold back at times, and the thought that maybe he’s finally found a place where he doesn’t need to deal with that pain, a place where he doesn’t need to hide - it makes the constant ache in his chest lessen just the slightest bit.

he’s still traumatised and plagued with horrible memories, anger still runs in his veins like blood, but all of that feels easier to cope with when he kisses and bites at your neck, scenting you, claiming you. and you let him, giggling with your hands in his hair.

your scent is happy, bright and warm like a sunny afternoon. he’s making you happy like this, the animal in him is making you happy like this.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog @insanesosciopath @eridektbh @trickstergabriel69 @lord-bingus666

[cupidcures]

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝? ♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

you and your best friend jisung were always tittering on the borderline of a romantic relationship and a platonic one. you thought you knew everything about him, only to be proven wrong in a way you never expected.

PAIRING: han jisung x reader

GENRE: fluff, crack, angst if you squint

WARNING: none, just tooth-rottingly sweet fluff with our dense hannie

DISCLAIMER: this is 100% fiction and doesn’t portray how the featured idols act in reality, this is made purely for entertainment

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

a/n: i recently got back into the very first anime i’ve watched, and the two main protagonists are so OBLIVIOUS to each other’s feelings. there’s literally an ongoing joke within the fandom that the main male protagonist believes that he’s been in a relationship with the female protagonist the whole time despite not having discussed it (natsu and lucy from fairy tail..)😅 but that’s what inspired this very short oneshot LOL. i hope you enjoy!

A yellow beam of sunlight peeked through the transparent material of the window curtain, casting its glow throughout the bedroom. The warmth from the sun bloomed on your skin, greeting you with a pleasant and sunny morning. Fluttering your eyes open, you find yourself face-to-face with your best friend sleeping soundly beside you with his lips slightly parted as you feel his soft and slow breaths tickle your nose.

This was normal to you at this point, you were no longer fazed by the recurring visitor who would sneak into your house almost every day. Was it an invasion of privacy? To most people, definitely. It took some time for you to get used to it, but you didn’t mind it. You had grown quite fond of the quokka boy in front of you—so much so that you’ve found yourself falling in love with him, much to your dismay. How could you not? He has been by your side through thick and thin, and the trust and bond between you two has never wavered. Not once. And here he was, his strong arms wrapped securely around your waist, his legs entangled with yours, and his face just mere inches away.

Staring at his delicate features, you often pondered about whether or not he felt the same way, but you have always been too scared to ruin the friendship that you hold too dear to you, that you’ve just decided to keep all your feelings to yourself and remain on platonic terms with the boy you grew to love more than just a friend would.

As if you were in a fairytale, the dissonant melody of the birds outside on the tree by the windowsill stirred the boy next to you awake. As soon as he made the slightest bit of movement, you closed your eyes and pretended to be asleep, just so you wouldn’t be caught staring at him.

“Mornin’ Y/N.” His raspy voice spoke to you in a gentle manner, and you felt yourself burning up from just the feeling of his gaze on you. Yet, you stuck to your act and kept your eyes closed. It was quiet for a minute or two before the joyful sound of his laughter broke the silence.

“Y/N baby I know you’re awake, weirdo. Why are you pretending to be asleep?”

Here he was with the pet names again. Your heart skipped a beat before speeding up, the blood pumping through your veins and rushing to your face. You hesitantly opened your eyes to a small squint, your eyelashes blurring your vision.

“Hey, Sungie.” Your voice greeted him with a mellow whisper as the sensation of his hand wiped the corner of your lip.

“Ew, you got drool on your face.”

“Shut it, will ya?”

The dynamic between the two of you would constantly fluctuate from flirting and teasing, it was never really consistent. His actions often left you dazed and confused, the borderline between friends and something more than that was blurred beyond clarity—even your closest friends wondered if there was something more going on.

“Is everything alright? You have… this look on your face,” Jisung scrunched his face and sat up, bringing you with him. He leaned his face closer to yours, you assumed to inspect your expression, and you felt your face burn up.

You were confused about a lot of things—but if there was ONE thing that you were sure of, it was the fact that he drove you mad. You had your speculations that he knew your feelings for him and did these things to tease you, but your intuition speaks to you that it isn’t EXACTLY the case. Things have been this way for as long as you can remember, and to be frank, you were getting more and more affected by it.

It was when Jisung stared at your lips and leaned in even closer, that you finally decided you had had enough. Your hands took its place on top of his chest and you pushed him away softly. “Why do you keep doing this?”

A small frown played on his lips. He couldn't read your mind, and you couldn’t read his. “Keep doing what?”

“This!” Your voice grew a little louder as your finger gestured back and forth between him and you. It didn’t seem to help, though. Jisung still looked lost, you were able to tell that he didn’t exactly know what you meant. He was so painfully oblivious.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you, Y/N.” He apologized anyway, despite not knowing what he did wrong. “Is it because I keep sneaking in without your permission? I thought it didn’t bother you because you never said anything, but I’ll stop if you want me to. I’m sorry.”

The frown on his face became more evident, and you started feeling bad for the boy. His eyes watered as he looked down at his hands, fidgeting on the blanket. You let out an audible sigh and shook your head.

“It’s not that. I’m fine with you sneaking in, but leaning in so close to my face? Calling me pet names? Wrapping me so tightly in hugs that would last more than what’s considered normal? Why?”

You were frustrated, to say the least. You felt like your emotions were just being toyed with by your own best friend and you couldn’t take it anymore. His lips quivered and his eyes got watery. For some reason, your questions hurt him.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I just thought it was normal to do that, I am your boyfriend after all. Do you want to break up with me? Please don’t, I’ll stop it if it makes you uncomfortable, I promise I didn’t know. Did you lose feelings for me?”

And so you stared at him. Silently. It took you a while to process his words in your head—but the more you processed it, the wider your eyes got.

“…you’re my boyfriend?”

Jisung blinked. You blinked. He blinked even more. The look of hurt on his face quickly became replaced with a look of disorientation.

“Uhm? Yeah? We love each other, don’t we? So that makes me your boyfriend? We’ve been together for a while now, Y/N.”

Your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard him utter those words, and suddenly everything started making sense to you. All those times he flirted with you, all the attempts to kiss you, all his protectiveness against other people, and all the hugs and cuddles suddenly made sense. He wasn’t toying around with your feelings at all, he was just reciprocating them. Strings of laughter began to escape your lips as your arms grasped your stomach—Jisung only looked at you in bewilderment.

“Why… why are you laughing?”

“Jisung you‘re so stupid!”

“Hey! I’m trying to be serious here and fix things and you’re over here laughing at me and insulting me?? HOW RUDE!” He crossed his arms with a pout, but he couldn’t hide the underlying look of relief on his face when he saw that you weren’t mad or upset.

“Yes I love you, but you have to ask me to be yours before you could just assume it, idiot!! I didn’t know that you loved me back so I just thought you were playing with my feelings!” You flicked his forehead as he furrowed his eyebrows in disagreement.

“But it‘s obvious that I love you!! I thought that because we feel the same way, we would automatically be a couple!”

“THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!!”

You threw a pillow at Jisung’s face, the sudden impact throwing him off the bed. You could hear him whine childishly from the foot of your bed and so you stuck your tongue out at him, a lovesick grin plastered on both of your faces.

He was such a dork, but you didn’t care because you loved him. And he loved you too.

Masterlist

MASTERTAG (OPEN)! @skzstan12345

[hyp3rf1xat10ns]

My Thoughts That No One Asked For!

Malleus is obviously very strong. We can only assume Malleus is stronger. It was easier to defeat the other Housewardens because to some extent, everyone fighting that Housewarden in on their level. Malleus is one of the top five mages in Twisted Wonderland. Fighting against him is practically impossible unless you call in another top mage. Oh wait! They're asleep like everyone else. So hear me out...What if instead of ending with an epic fight where the Prefect stands off against Malleus....The Prefect breaks the "spell" with a hug. Not a kiss, that's too Otome. A hug. One to let him know it's ok for him to be upset. It's ok for him to mourn what he is loosing and what he doesn't have. Malleus just sobs...into your arms. And giving into the sadness and accepting the reality of the situation is what snaps him out of his overblot state. Just imagine it like this.

"I am always left alone! At the end of the day I am destined to be alone! Everyone will leave me behind! I'll have no one! That is why...I need to keep you all here....happy in your dreams.....just the way you want your life to be."

Malleus' laughter echoed throughout the halls of Diasomnia. The people who were currently awake had a sense of fear embedded in them. He was too powerful to fight. It seemed impossible to take him down. Was this the end? The one overblot you couldn't defeat?... But then...you realized something....you were afraid of him...for the first time since you met him...you were scared....but why?...Yes he's overblotted and caused everyone to sleep for a thousand years and yet....you still can't help but see him as that weird horned boy who showed up at Ramshackle one cold autumn night...the man you dubbed Hornton because he wouldn't tell you his name...the man who gave you the courage to fight against Azul when he practically had Ramshackle in your clutches...the one who sent you the holiday card, the one you took nightly walks with, the one who helped to fix the stage, the one who was worried when you disappeared. There were so many things that Malleus was. You think back to when you told him you might have found a way back home. He looked so hurt you...He looked

Scared...

You had no idea what triggered it. With every ounce of strength left in your body. You approached Malleus, shakily. Staggering with each step. Exhausted and sore from fighting. Silver, Sebek and Idia stared at you like you were insane. Had the prefect ha one too many overblots???

"HUMAN!! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING???"

"Prefect! Wait!-"

"Th-This is l-like something o-out of some kind of m-manga o-o-or an anime...wh-why are they having a main ch-ch-character moment?"

You finally stopped when you were face to face with Malleus. You looked like a mess and he looked fine.

"Oya? Approaching me head on, Child of Man? Or have you come to accept your fate and give into slumber for-"

Before he can finish, you hug him. It's gentle and soft and just meant to be comforting and kind.

"It's ok Hornton..."

You whisper as you hug him. You brace yourself for him to shove you off with a blast of magic that would kill you...but it never happens...instead the young prince curls into you arms and begins sobbing into your arms...as the blot disappears and everyone awakes. Like some form of fairytale.

[chiyuuchu]

Todoroki’s fairytale <3 (1st August 2024)

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Prompt! Shoto realises that to fight what you want is worth it, no matter the obstacle

Todoroki Shoto sat in the corner of the classroom, his gaze drifting towards Y/N, his classmate who had the enchanting fairy quirk. Y/N’s presence was ethereal, with delicate fairy wings that shimmered in the light. To everyone, it was apparent that Todoroki’s attention was focused on Momo Yaoyorozu. Momo had openly admired Todoroki for a while, and the assumption that Todoroki might reciprocate her feelings was widespread. But the truth was far different—Todoroki’s heart was captivated by Y/N, whose quiet beauty and gentle demeanor had him spellbound.

Rumors about Todoroki’s supposed crush on Momo were a constant source of frustration for him. The reality was that he was utterly captivated by Y/N, and his feelings remained a closely guarded secret. The pretense of his interest in Momo was a necessary facade to protect his true emotions.

Every day, Todoroki watched as Y/N fluttered around with her fairy wings—a sight that was both enchanting and heartbreaking. Her gentle demeanor and the way she interacted with her quirk seemed to draw him in, creating a longing that he could not easily suppress. The rumors about his supposed crush on Momo were both a blessing and a curse, providing a convenient cover for the true nature of his feelings.

One afternoon, during a class break, Todoroki found himself alone with Y/N and Uraraka in the common room. Y/N was sitting by a window, her wings shimmering softly as she read a book. Uraraka, ever the social butterfly, was chatting animatedly with her, and Todoroki found himself captivated by their conversation.

“You know,” Uraraka said, glancing over at Todoroki with a smile, “Y/N and I were just talking about the upcoming training exercises. She’s been really excited about them.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Todoroki’s for a brief moment. He quickly looked away, his heart racing as he tried to maintain his composure.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Y/N said softly. “It’s always interesting to see what challenges we’ll face.”

Todoroki forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside him. “It should be a good experience. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

As Uraraka continued to talk, Todoroki’s attention was fully on Y/N.

He observed the way her wings fluttered with subtle grace, casting a faint glow as they caught the light. The sight was mesmerizing, and Todoroki felt a pang of jealousy and longing as he watched her interact with Uraraka. He wished he could be the one to share those moments with her, but his feelings remained concealed.

The next morning, Todoroki was walking through the campus when he spotted Y/N and Izuku Midoriya standing by a bench. They were laughing together, a genuine connection evident in their interaction. Y/N’s laughter was light and melodic, and Todoroki felt a pang of jealousy and confusion. He had never seen her so animated with anyone else, and the sight of her giggling with Izuku stirred something deep within him.

Todoroki’s heart sank as he watched Izuku and Y/N share a moment of camaraderie. He felt a familiar sting of envy and frustration. The way Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she laughed at something Izuku had said made Todoroki’s chest tighten. The assumption that Todoroki had feelings for Momo seemed to amplify his discomfort, especially since he was witnessing Y/N’s obvious enjoyment with another person.

As Todoroki walked away from the scene, his mind was racing. The thought that Y/N might have feelings for Izuku, coupled with the ongoing rumors about his own supposed crush on Momo, created a storm of emotions inside him. He felt trapped between his secret and the facade he maintained for everyone else.

In the dorms that evening, Todoroki’s frustration was palpable. He sat alone in his room, his thoughts consumed by the day’s events. The image of Y/N laughing with Izuku replayed in his mind, a painful reminder of the reality he couldn’t change.

He knew he couldn’t express his true feelings or act on them. The secrecy surrounding his emotions was a burden he carried alone. He felt a deep sense of longing, wishing he could be in Izuku’s place—someone who seemed to effortlessly connect with Y/N.

Todoroki lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The quiet of his room was a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. He thought about the disparity between his internal struggle and the public’s perception of his feelings. The longing he felt for Y/N, combined with the weight of pretending to be interested in Momo, was almost too much to bear.

In the stillness of the night, Todoroki’s thoughts drifted to Izuku once more. He envied the ease with which Izuku seemed to connect with Y/N, and the thought made him wish he could be in Izuku’s position. If only he could trade places, if only he could be the one who made Y/N laugh and share moments with her without the burden of secrecy.

As he closed his eyes, Todoroki’s thoughts were consumed by the reality of his situation. The love he harbored for Y/N remained a secret, hidden behind the façade of a crush on Momo. And in the quiet of the night, he wished more than anything that he could be someone else—someone who could openly share the affection he felt for the girl who had captured his heart.

Just a month later, came an end to his first obstacle.

Todoroki and Momo found themselves alone in a secluded corner of the school’s garden. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. It was a serene setting, but Todoroki’s heart was pounding in his chest.

Momo, her eyes slightly downcast, took a deep breath before speaking. “Todoroki, I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. I... I really like you, and I was hoping you might feel the same way.”

Todoroki’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and discomfort crossing his features. He had suspected that Momo might have feelings for him, but hearing her confess them directly was another matter entirely. He struggled to find the right words, knowing he had to be honest, yet not wanting to hurt her.

“Yaoyorozu,” Todoroki started, his voice carefully measured, “I appreciate your feelings. I really do. But I need to be honest with you. I don’t share those feelings. There’s someone else I... I’m interested in. I don’t want to lead you on or give you false hope.”

Momo’s eyes dropped to the ground, her face flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. She nodded slowly, trying to compose herself. “I see. I’m sorry for making things awkward,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Todoroki reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s not awkward. I just wanted to be honest with you. I respect you too much to not be clear.”

Momo offered a faint smile, her composure returning as she looked up at him. “Thank you for being honest, Todoroki. I appreciate it.”

As Momo turned to leave, Todoroki watched her go, his heart heavy with the weight of the conversation. The words he had spoken to her echoed in his mind, a reminder of the delicate balance he had to maintain between his own secret feelings and the truth he had just shared. The quiet of the garden seemed to close in around him, and he was left alone with his thoughts, the reality of his situation sinking in deeply.

The following evening came with the second obstacle.

Spotting Midoriya sitting alone in the common room, engrossed in a notebook, Todoroki approached with a mix of determination and nervousness. “Midoriya,” Todoroki began, trying to sound casual as he took a seat beside him, “I need to ask you something.”

Midoriya looked up, his eyes widening with curiosity. “Sure, Todoroki. What’s up?”

Todoroki hesitated for a moment before diving in. “I’ve been meaning to ask... Do you have any feelings for Y/N?”

Midoriya blinked in surprise, his face turning slightly red. “Y/N? Oh, no, not at all,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I mean, she’s a great person, but I don’t have any romantic feelings for her.”

A wave of relief washed over Todoroki, a smile tugging at his lips. “Really? That’s good to know.”

Midoriya’s expression shifted to one of earnestness. “Actually, I’ve been trying to get advice from Y/N about something else. I’m trying to figure out how to approach Uraraka and let her know how I feel. Y/N’s been really helpful with giving me tips.”

Todoroki’s smile grew slightly wider. “You’re asking Y/N for advice on how to win Uraraka’s heart?”

Midoriya nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I figured she’d have some good insights, you know? She’s always so positive and helpful. I just didn’t want to mess things up.”

Todoroki’s heart lightened further. “That’s great. It’s good to have someone like Y/N helping you out.”

As Midoriya continued to talk about his plans and how Y/N had been assisting him, Todoroki felt a surge of happiness. The fact that Midoriya had no romantic interest in Y/N meant that he had a clearer path to pursue his own feelings without the added pressure of competition.

As Todoroki stood up to leave, he gave Midoriya a reassuring smile. “Good luck with Uraraka. I’m sure Y/N will give you great advice.”

Midoriya beamed with gratitude. “Thanks, Todoroki. I really appreciate it.”

Walking away, Todoroki felt a sense of relief and a newfound optimism. The idea that his secret feelings for Y/N might not be overshadowed by another’s interest was a small but significant victory. With a lighter step, Todoroki headed back to his own thoughts, his hope renewed and his heart feeling just a bit more at ease.

Todoroki Shoto sat at his desk in Class 1-A, the lesson proceeding in the background, but his attention was fixed elsewhere. His gaze was subtly directed towards Y/N, who was seated across the room, her delicate fairy wings folded neatly behind her as she listened attentively to the teacher.

Y/N was focused on her notebook, her gentle smile occasionally lighting up her face as she exchanged soft whispers with Uraraka. The way her wings shimmered in the classroom’s fluorescent light, even when still, had an almost magical quality to it. Todoroki’s heart ached with a mix of admiration and longing.

As he watched her, Todoroki found himself marveling at her quiet grace. Her interactions with her friends were warm and genuine, and the way she seemed to radiate calm and kindness was mesmerizing. Todoroki admired the way she carried herself with such poise, her demeanor reflecting her inner beauty.

Every now and then, Y/N would glance up, her eyes meeting Todoroki’s briefly before returning to her notes. Each glance was enough to send a flutter through Todoroki’s chest. It was a small moment, but it felt significant to him. He often wondered if she noticed his lingering gaze or if it was simply his own perception that made these moments feel so profound.

Todoroki shifted slightly in his seat, trying to appear absorbed in his own work, though his mind was far from focused on the lesson. The truth was, he found it almost impossible to concentrate when Y/N was in the room. His secret admiration for her was a delicate balance of joy and frustration—joy for the moments he could witness her from afar, and frustration because he could not express his true feelings.

As the class continued, Todoroki's eyes would occasionally drift back to Y/N. The thought of her innocent laughter, her kind gestures, and the way her presence seemed to fill the room with a soft light kept his heart tethered to her. Despite the distractions of everyday school life, his feelings remained constant, a quiet undercurrent that he cherished in silence.

As the bell rang and the class began to disperse, Todoroki lingered for a moment, watching Y/N gather her things with a graceful efficiency. He sighed softly, the familiar ache of unspoken affection tugging at his heart. With a final glance, he stood up and prepared to leave, his thoughts lingering on the girl who had captured his heart so effortlessly.

Todoroki Shoto was making his way to his locker after class when Bakugou Katsuki suddenly appeared in his path, a rare look of seriousness on his face. Bakugou, who typically seemed to be on a mission to start an argument, was unusually subdued.

Todoroki raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the unexpected confrontation. “Bakugou, what’s—”

“Cut the crap,” Bakugou interrupted, his tone gruff but lacking its usual edge. “I’ve been watching you. It’s pretty obvious you’ve got a thing for fairy face.”

Todoroki froze, his heart skipping a beat at the directness of Bakugou’s observation. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bakugou scoffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t play dumb. It’s obvious as hell. You’re always staring at her like a lost puppy. If you like her, then do something about it.”

Todoroki shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Bakugou’s words. “It’s not that simple. People think I’m interested in someone else...”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, though his voice softened slightly. “So what? If you like Y/N, then screw what anyone else thinks. You’re just gonna sit around and watch her be with someone else while you do nothing?”

Todoroki felt a mix of surprise and gratitude at Bakugou’s unexpected advice. “I... I don’t know if I can just—”

Bakugou cut him off with a dismissive wave. “Man up, Icyhot. If you care about her, go for it. You’re not gonna get anywhere by being all quiet and waiting for the perfect moment. If you want something, you gotta fucking fight for it. Don’t let anyone else’s opinions stop you.”

Todoroki’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback by Bakugou’s words. He had always seen Bakugou as someone who thrived on confrontation, not on giving advice. “Thanks, Bakugou,” Todoroki said, his voice sincere. “I’ll think about what you said.”

Bakugou gave a curt nod and turned to leave, but not before adding, “Just don’t screw it up. I don’t want to see you moping around because you missed your chance.”

As Todoroki watched Bakugou walk away, he felt a surge of determination. Bakugou’s unexpected support and blunt advice had given him a new perspective. Maybe it was time to take a chance and face his feelings head-on, no matter the obstacles. With a renewed sense of resolve, Todoroki prepared to make a move, knowing that he had to take action if he wanted to change the outcome.

The next day, Class 1-A was gathered in the courtyard for a brief break between classes. The sun was shining, and the students were enjoying the pleasant weather when Todoroki Shoto approached Y/N, who was chatting with Uraraka and occasionally fluttering her delicate fairy wings.

As Todoroki drew closer, he felt his heart race. He had finally decided to take Bakugou’s advice to heart. Clutching a bouquet of flowers—a mix of soft pastels and vibrant blooms—he took a deep breath.

“Y/N,” Todoroki said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of nervousness.

Y/N looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. “Todoroki? What’s this?”

Todoroki extended the bouquet towards her, a small but genuine smile on his face. “I, uh... I wanted to give these to you. I’ve noticed how you always brighten up the room, and I thought you might like them.”

The courtyard fell into a hush as the rest of Class 1-A turned to watch the unexpected interaction. Y/N’s cheeks flushed pink as she accepted the flowers, her eyes sparkling with a mix of surprise and delight.

“They’re beautiful,” Y/N said softly, her voice filled with warmth. “Thank you, Todoroki.”

Uraraka, standing beside Y/N, gave Todoroki an encouraging smile. “That’s so sweet of you, Todoroki.”

Todoroki nodded, feeling a wave of relief as he saw Y/N’s genuine happiness. “I’m glad you like them.”

As Todoroki turned to head back to Iida and Midoriya, he caught a glimpse of Bakugou watching from a distance, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Beside him was Momo, who gave Todoroki an encouraging smile. Todoroki’s heart swelled with a mix of pride and nervous anticipation. The public gesture was a bold step, but it was worth it to see Y/N’s radiant smile.

As the class resumed their conversations, Y/N gently held the bouquet close, her gaze lingering on Todoroki with a newfound sense of warmth. The moment had not gone unnoticed by their classmates, and murmurs of surprise and curiosity began to ripple through the group.

Todoroki, feeling a mix of vulnerability and satisfaction, walked back to his usual spot, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

As for Y/n’s side.

Night had came. The moonlight softly illuminated the dorm’s common room, where Momo Yaoyorozu and Y/N were seated on the plush sofa, their conversation having drifted into a more personal territory. The rest of the dorm was quiet, and the night felt like a cocoon of peace around them.

Momo took a deep breath, glancing over at Y/N who was quietly sipping her tea. “Y/N,” she began, her voice gentle but resolute, “there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Y/N looked up, curious. “Sure, Momo. What’s on your mind?”

Momo’s gaze was soft, her eyes reflecting a hint of sadness but also clarity. “I know that you’ve caught the attention of Todoroki lately, and I’ve noticed how... close you’ve become. I wanted to tell you that I don’t mind if you end up with him.” She said, careful to not add the fact that she knows his feelings are in-fact romantic attraction towards the fairy girl. If anything, Todoroki should have the right to say it on his own and not someone else.

Y/N blinked in surprise. “Oh, Momo... I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Momo offered a small, understanding smile. “Todoroki and I had our own thing for a while, but he... he rejected me. It was painful, but I’ve come to terms with it. I think he might be happier with someone like you.”

Y/N’s expression softened with empathy. “Momo, I—”

Momo raised a hand gently. “No, let me finish. I want you to know that even though it’s not easy for me, I won’t stop you from pursuing him. If you’re interested in Todoroki and he’s interested in you, then I want you to go for it.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Momo. I really appreciate your understanding.”

Momo nodded, her smile unwavering. “I just want what’s best for both of you. And if that means you’re together, then so be it. I hope you two find happiness.”

Y/N reached out, placing a hand over Momo’s in a gesture of solidarity. “I’m lucky to have a friend like you. I promise I’ll be honest with you about everything.”

Momo’s smile widened. “That’s all I ask.”

As they sat together in the quiet of the night, the bond between them felt even stronger. Momo’s words had lifted a weight from Y/N’s shoulders, and she felt a newfound sense of hope for the future, no matter what it held.

As for the rest of the night, the two girls were chattering and giggling here and there. There was nothing to hide and nothing to be afraid of.

When Momo walked back to her room, Todoroki had coincidentally crossed paths with her. She smiled and gave him a nod to which he smiled back in respect.

Then came the day.

The setting sun cast a warm golden glow across the school grounds as Todoroki Shoto approached Y/N, who was seated on a bench near the garden. Her fairy wings, delicate and shimmering with hues of iridescent blue and pink, fluttered gently with the breeze. The soft light made her look almost ethereal, as if she were a part of the twilight itself.

Todoroki’s heart pounded as he approached, the sight of her wings making his breath catch. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Y/N looked up, her eyes catching the light in a way that made them sparkle, and gave him a gentle smile that seemed to light up the entire garden.

“Y/N,” Todoroki began, his voice a mix of nerves and determination, “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. For a date, I mean.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and a soft blush spread across her cheeks, making her look even more enchanting. Her wings fluttered excitedly, sending a cascade of shimmering light through the garden. “Oh, Todoroki... I’d love to.”

Todoroki’s heart skipped a beat, and a relieved smile spread across his face. “Really? I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested.”

Y/N’s smile grew warmer, her wings casting gentle glimmers of light around them. “I’ve actually been hoping you’d ask.”

Todoroki felt a wave of joy and accomplishment wash over him. All the doubts, the fears of not being good enough, and the awkward moments—it had all been worth it. He had finally gathered the courage to ask her out, and it was turning out better than he had dared to hope.

As Y/N’s wings fluttered more intensely with her happiness, the sight was almost mesmerizing. Todoroki took in the way her fairy-like presence seemed to make the world around her a bit brighter. “I’m really glad,” Todoroki said, his voice sincere. “I’ve had to overcome a lot of obstacles to get to this point, and knowing that it’s led to this... it feels like it was all worth it.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and her wings shimmered like a constellation of tiny stars. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Todoroki felt a profound sense of relief and happiness. The path ahead was still uncertain, but with Y/N by his side, her fairy-like grace adding a touch of magic to everything, he felt ready to face whatever came next. As they walked together, side by side, the garden seemed to glow a little brighter, and Todoroki knew that this was the beginning of something truly special.

In the common room of Class 1-A, the students were gathered for a casual chat after dinner. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the conversation drifted from one topic to another until someone brought up Todoroki and Y/N.

“Did you guys hear?” Kirishima started, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Todoroki and Y/N are officially a thing now!”

The room buzzed with surprised murmurs. “Wait, seriously?” Mina asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yeah,” Kirishima confirmed. “I saw them together in the garden earlier, and Todoroki was holding flowers. They looked pretty cozy.”

Jirou, who had been quietly listening, added, “I didn’t see that coming. I always thought Todoroki had his eyes on Momo.”

Momo’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she nodded. “I suppose people thought that because of some of our interactions, but I’m happy for them.”

Bakugou, who had been quietly observing from his usual spot, snorted. “Seriously? I thought everyone fucking knew Todoroki was into Y/N. He’s been acting weird for ages.”

“Really?” asked Sero, raising an eyebrow. “I always thought he was just being all cool and distant.”

“Yeah,” added Kaminari. “Y/N’s so... fairy-like and gentle. I wouldn’t have guessed she’d end up with someone as intense as Todoroki.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect it either,” Uraraka admitted. “But now that I think about it, they do seem to have a certain chemistry. I’m just glad they found each other.”

Kirishima chuckled, “It’s like a fairy tale. Todoroki and his fairy princess.”

As the conversation continued, the surprise and curiosity in the room were palpable. Everyone was reflecting on how unexpected the pairing seemed, but also how right it felt in hindsight. The notion of Todoroki and Y/N together had surprised everyone, but their genuine connection and mutual happiness were undeniable.

The room was filled with a sense of excitement and anticipation, as the class eagerly discussed the new couple and wondered what the future held for them.

[comfortless]

AHH I was the anon from the Bear!Ko ask ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ I adore it so much like I’m kicking my feet and twirling my hair your ideas are CHEFS KISS AND IM GLAD YOU LIKED THE PROMPTT

Definitely not excited that you’re considering more hybrid stuff.. TEEHEE ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎

BUT YEAH JUST THOUGHT TO DROP SOMETHING NEW CUZ WHY NOT! Maybe Ko being deployed on a mission to some wild terrain, having to camp out on the grounds for a while by himself. Reader taking interest in the behemoth and toying with him until he finds out they’re a fae or nymph

Or a game of hide and seek.. in the dark.. with him.. maybe even a wolf!ko

ONCE AGAIN ID LOVE TO SEE YOU WORK UR MAGIC ON THESE IDEAS (｡♥‿♥｡)

hi, 🧸!! working on something with a lycanthrope Kö at the moment, but this is… well it is something! i adore the idea of König with a cute (insatiable) nymph!! definitely give @cookiepie111’s Drink From The Leche of Sirens a read if you haven’t already. <3

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. fae nonsense (reader is a tree nymph), vague smut.

It isn’t that he ever intended to be here, not really. Simple surveillance, Fender had told him. Any knowing soldier would recognize the equipment that did not even need hands to tend to it, the cameras that should be set and monitored, and yet there were none in place here— just König, a loaded gun, and the stillness of the forest that seemed to stretch ever onward.

There’s been a lapse for the past week, with Kortac’s most adept at retrieving information out seeking just that, off with their radios constantly abuzz and adrenaline running rampant through their veins.

There’s an envy harbored somewhere in the back of his skull, twittering and hissing when he thinks on it too much… shelved for an uncharacteristic mistake to be left here amongst plants and scattered animal sounds, a temporary solace that would be ripped away when something new came through the chain of command; an overabundance of the very things he would care to think less about.

König hasn’t seen another person in days, not out here, tracking a vehicle carrying supposed smuggled weapons. There are no tire tracks, not even air traffic passing above: only gloom, loneliness, and the chill of early spring.

Then the abandoned house, where he takes refuge. It’s dated: the furniture all in various states of disarray, shattered porcelain about the kitchen and vaulted ceilings so high he doesn’t even need to bother with ducking to cross from room to room. It’s old on the exterior, stately, with vines creeping up its walls to reach the warmest height to bloom. Though internally, it is clear the place has not been left to rot for long: no loose boards, no holes in the ceiling or floor, just seemingly preserved somehow, as though time itself had come to still.

He doesn’t mind the daily patrols through the forest, the pensive stalking and creeping to find any hint of what he was after. Even through the night, when sleep forgets to lure him in for warmth and comfort amidst the pollen and silence, the walking never seems to grate on him.

There are lights, often, amongst the trees, faint pulses of glowing white that dissipate the moment his gaze sweeps over them. He’s read the fairytales as a child, even witnessed Conor get so drunk once that he shared his own tales of the ‘wee folk’, but König would feel a fool to believe any of that at face value. Most of his own kind were not interested in him, shying away with laughter or pitying gazes the moment he approached, so why would anything else be drawn to a man who could never quite scrub the blood from his fingernails or keep a conversation from spinning out into silence and uneasy glances?

It’s during one of these nightly walks that he first sees her, a vision bathed beneath the milky glow of the moon, ethereal, yet still nothing short of a proper blessing from the earth. Despite the distance from his path to her own, her body looks soft, bare and gentle. The growing thorns and clusters of ivy do not scrape her, only gently pull aside as she walks, tender and swaying like the petals sprung up from the plants for little fingers ghost over.

He only thinks that, assuredly, he’s lost his mind. The vision fades away when she looks at him, curls her lips into a smile… and then it is all gone. She leaves not a trace, no footprints indented into the soil he knows he had only just watched her tread. The flowers he saw her pull into being have vanished, too. All that remains is a dulled aura of dread, a strange thing that he has not felt in years, if ever at all.

König does not think of the woman until she appears again, during the day amidst the leaves of a sprawling sycamore. She lies against the bark, body resting over a healthy branch where she sleeps in a position so demure it sets his heart ablaze. The breeze caresses her hair, something he wishes to feel beneath his own fingertips; it whistles over her bare skin while the sun bathes her in rays of gold, filtered out through pinprick partings in the leaves, begs, pleads for him to touch. Forbidden fruit, too lofty to touch, too dainty for ash and blood.

He only walks away, carries on with the focus of his mission, reminds himself of every time that he’s sought some semblance of companionship and how those escapades had all simmered down to nothing but taunting echoes for sleepless nights. There was no need for any more ghosts, not even the pretty ones.

With nothing else in sight, he returns to that house where time halts and loses himself to want; swallows dry when he frees himself of his buckle and pulls out his growing erection. A release and an expelling of memory all in one.

He thinks of her, of her graceful walk amidst the darkened woods, of the way she lay, perfectly unscathed and beautiful, unknowing of any thing that plagues him, scatters from his grim expression right down to his very marrow. The imaginings… he would never speak of them, perhaps would only have the information pried from him that he thought of her smile when he spilled himself into his palm, but only if she came to beg for it with a voice he imagines must be tree sticky and sweet like warmed honey. Only if she came for him.

There lies a meadow just past an abrupt opening in the tree line, small and subdued by outstretched branches that curl over the grass and wildflowers still yet to bloom. No chill lingers here, as though summer stretches over the little glade and settles atop it with its warmth, masks even the little pond that does not seem to carry the same frosted panes of ice that the others he had seen do. There is fruit, puny red berries and hefty pears causing their limbs to bend, gently set them down for the earth and all of the animals roaming about to eat.

And he knows he’s stumbled upon her home.

He finds his voice when she peeks at him from behind the trunk, wide-eyed and curious with the softest curl about her lips, playful but tentative.

“Hallo,” he whispers, raising his gloved hand as if to wave, but curling his fingers into his palm instead. He’s horribly uncertain, caught between the alarming thought that he’s dealing with some perturbing nudist or something… else entirely.

“Hello,” she says, almost shy as she unveils herself from behind the tree, takes a step toward him with a tender look in her eyes and a long draw of breath. Sets his nerves at ease with her silent admittance that she, too, at least seemed wary.

König immediately tells her why he’s here, not in full detail, sparing the poor doe the tedium and the confidential bits that would likely only make her head spin, and then… he mentions how he had seen her, how the forest seemed to yield to her whims, her dancing beneath the moon that appeared to shine only for her. He gives her a curious look, undetectable beneath the darkened hood, pleads for her to explain in his own silent sort of way.

“I have seen you too,” she says instead, curling her arms behind her back, pushing out her chest, and… he doesn’t think to ask any further.

She’s the loveliest thing that he has ever seen or felt: places herself right into his lap when she guides him down to the grass. There’s sap on her fingertips when she presses them to his lips, curiously grazing them over his mouth as he speaks to her about the forest, a forest he’s already deemed to be her own, obscure princess that she was. She giggles when he dares to lick over each intruding digit, even gives a shaky, soft sigh when he suckles at one.

The nymph whispers things into his ear that he’s never heard before: things about each sprouting plant, of other things that hide away in the shade beneath branches and how they had all seen him too, about the earth and life and softer secrets about her beloved tree. Home and love without ever daring to speak words so simple. She does not ask about the dreadful things he does not think about, only lies back in the grass when he praises her beauty and the lovely notes of her voice.

He thinks for a moment that he should not touch her, should not have her grace wasted on something like him, but she rises up only enough to kiss him through the hood and he finds himself tugged down to tickling blades of grass and his mind finally does quiet.

She cradles him close as he claims her love for his own, steals sap from her lips and follows her sighs to a comforting oblivion. Her hands find his neck, his shoulders to offer gentle touches, tracing patterns like the intricate twisting of vines against his flesh all while he praises their union, her sweetness.

He doesn’t know how long he’s spent with her, the day seems to to stretch on for an eternity with the sun high above, but when he wakes… he is back inside of the old, quiet house, lying in the bed he knows with a certainty that he’s never even touched. Fender’s voice is calling to him over the radio, clipped and demanding for a report, one that proves nothing at all, a barrage of words filled with wonder and bliss with no intel on the mission.

And König isn’t shocked by the leave he’s given once he does return to base the following day. Three weeks time would be just enough to clear his head, regain his focus, pull money from his account to purchase that lonesome old house in the forest. He couldn’t bare the thought of never seeing such an angel again, never hearing the soft chittering of her voice or being blessed with the feeling of her beneath him, intertwined like the vines she so loved.

[jenchan-writingmultis]

For the TWST Fairytale AU could you do one for Rook? I am hopelessly enamored with him

Your radiance or His satisfaction?

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

A/n: This was requested last June 6, and I just got to it right now, I'm really sorry that it took so long (╥﹏╥), and wow, I actually half liked this, but the ending was a bit rushed, but here you go! I really hope you liked this one, it was stressful to write but also fulfilling! I wanted to create some kind of trope but at the same time being far away from the fairytale itself. Thank you so much for requesting this!

Pairing: Rook Hunt x Snow White GN Reader, Vil x Snow White GN Reader (One-sided)

Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards Warning: A bit of Angst, and creepy behavior a bit from Rook, but he means well! Ooc(?) I hope not. Obsessive Vil (vague, since it’s one sided) Bad French

Ma chère/ Mon cher: My dear (both feminine and masculine) Masterlist ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ Synopsis: Rook Hunt was assigned a straightforward mission:, one simple mission to take the life of a beauty who was claimed by the mirror as the "Fairest of them all"However, he never anticipated becoming captivated not only by your appearance but you as a person as well. Now, he finds himself tangled in quite a predicament. ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Rook Hunt:

When he first saw you, he thought that an angel fell down heaven and he was happy to help! You had a bit of a scrapped knee, most likely from stumbling down the steep stairways earlier. How did he know that?... Intuition of course! And how the scrape looked.

"Ma chère/ Mon cher!" walking to you, he'd kneel, immediately placing a sterilized handkerchief on your wound. "Are you alright?"  You were gorgeous, wearing a yellow and blue outfit, and a red bow, how adorable you are, it makes him want to kiss you!

"Yeah, I think so…" You winced as he began cleaning your injury, though you noticed he was extra careful. He was an odd stranger who had appeared just in time—or perhaps not, since you still fell and hurt your leg.  Rook on the other hand was wearing a simple outfit, something you'd notice huntsmen wear.

"Do be careful" he uses a medical kit he kept in his bag for emergencies. He gently lifted your leg, supporting your knee to wrap the gauze more easily. "Vicious boars are around the forest, who knows what could happen to a lovely person like you" Rook knew that blood is what attracts animals around, an exposed wound like this needed to be treated as soon as possible and he was happy he got to you first before any animal.

You trusted him so readily, allowing his gentle hands to wrap the gauze securely around your injury. "What's your name?" you couldn't help but be curious, you were quite attentive to your surroundings so the fact that someone managed to see you fall, it surprised you.

"Rook Hunt at your expense Ma chère/Mon cher" he offers his gloved hand to you, urging you to take it so that he can easily lift you up for you to stand. You accepted it, feeling his firm grip as he effortlessly lifted you to your feet. The way he handled you made you feel almost like a princess; his hand on your waist, fingers intertwined as if you were dancing in a grand ballroom.

That might have caused you to instinctively step back, as Rook seemed reluctant to release you. If you hadn't pulled away first, the two of you would have found yourselves in quite a compromising position.

"Right" you muttered awkwardly you didn't really know where to go from this, but Rook seemed to have other plans. "By chance Ma chère/Mon cher, will you be willing to help me with my project?"

That piqued your curiosity. "What project exactly?" Rook placed his hand on his chest, his gaze narrowing on you with a predatory intensity. "Nothing much," he replied smoothly. "I simply wish to have the opportunity to observe you."

Usually, he doesn't ask his targets if they're willing to be observed, but your case was interesting, the queen having his focus locked on you, he wanted to know, aside from your beauté, what else do you have?

Well, color him surprised, you agreed, he could see confusion in your eyes, but you didn't even question it, and that's where your weird but pleasant relationship started, he would often come to the cabin where you live with your friends, by friends, the animals you keep around, he even hunts for you! However, you eventually persuaded him to switch to a more vegetarian diet. After all, most of the animals in the forest were your friends, and you couldn't bear to see them harmed.

Rook on the other hand, doesn't even show up normally, he doesn't knock at your door, he sneaks in, seeing you already in bed and he'd grab a seat before placing himself on your side just to watch you sleep, kind of creepy, but he couldn't resist observing the way your expression softened when he traced his fingers along your cheek, as if he were gently petting a small bunny.

You wouldn't wake up catching him in the act though but do expect to see him drifting to sleep while sitting down.

Why was Rook doing this? Well, because he was weighing whether he preferred you in his arms or his hands drenched with your blood; and so far, your beauty and interesting personality got him wanting to witness more of your unpredictability.

After a few months of being around you, helping you with chores, feeding the animals, and learning more about you as a person, he decided to mention to you about the queen wanting your head on a silver platter, the reason? He doesn't know yet, but instead of fearing for your life, you just laughed. "Why would he need my head just because I'm 'prettier' than him?" You playfully hit Rook's arm as if he'd told the funniest joke ever, which made Rook chuckle. He took hold of your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

"I'm not joking; unfortunately," he saw you freeze up due to his blatant affection and the obvious gravity of the situation. "he really does want your head," he states. But no matter how serious he sounds; you still find it amusing. How strange of you.

"I still don't see how I'm the fairest of them all; that mirror must be lying," you added, pulling your hand away and rubbing the spot where he had kissed it, even after all these times you've known him, you still can't get used to his sudden touches.

"You don't?" he looked genuinely surprised as he placed his hand on your cheek, gently tracing it to your chin as he lifted it up to make you see him eye to eye. "Why that is hard to believe Ma chère/Mon cher?" he watches your expression turn from surprise into a deep shade of red, you knew what he was implying however that doesn't stop him from continuing, if you really can't see the beauty that you blessed his sight for, at least his words would explain what he sees.

"Whenever I observe you, I notice that the stars in the sky seem to have found a new home in your eyes, Ma chère/Mon cher," he wonders how such a common eye color would look so alluring to him, he guesses everything a person possess becomes vibrant the more they show it or at least the more you show it. 

"You are the embodiment of grace under pressure, handling life's storms with an elegance that is both humbling and inspiring."

"Okay stop!" you pushed him away, feeling like you're being suffocated under the pressure of his love, "That's too much Rook," although you did like the effort and love that he was giving to you for the past months, you can't help but feel off about it, there's more to what this little "project" of his that meets the eye.

Ah, did you notice? The way he observed you; had a different reason than merely knowing you as a friend.  "I apologize Ma chère/Mon cher" Seeing that saddened look in your eyes, you didn't believe him despite knowing that he never lied to you right?

He stumbles from your push, but he doesn't mind. "I hope my words find their way to your heart beauty from afar." He's running out of time with this, his queen was getting frustrated because every week, the mirror only talked about you, the fairest of them all, it was obvious that he wasn't doing his job very well.

"What? Rook what are you talking about" you asked, becoming increasingly confused by his perplexing way of speaking.

"It'll make my heart happy if you thought of what I said thoroughly during my absence" he repeats once more, grabbing his bag from the tree trunk. 'I must leave for now, Ma Cherie/Mon Cher," he says, giving your head a gentle ruffle. "I'll be back in a few days."

And just like that, without acknowledging your protest, he departed, just like how he had arrived.

On the other hand, you attempted to decipher what he said. Was it a confession, perhaps? Or a code of some sort? What was it? it really does direct you more that he loved you.

Rook knew what he had felt when he first saw you; he believed it had been obvious from the start. His intuition had strongly leaned towards the idea of keeping you close, of protecting you from harm, especially from the wrath of the queen. He loves you, yet he also cannot fathom the idea of betraying his queen, what a predicament he got himself into.

That was all he could think about while he made his way back to the castle, the doors opening automatically for him, magic so dense that it made his breathing feel ragged. The moment he reached the throne, the smell of poison was evident in the air, "Roi du Poison" he called out to him, not completely devoid of affection but it was lessened, and Vil noticed that.

"How long will you continue sparing this person's life, Rook?" The mention of his name caused a shiver down his spine, yet he maintained his smile. "In due time beautiful Vil, I'm merely having fun with our prey" he states as he bows down to Vil the moment he sees the Queen stand up.

"This is unlike you" Vil sighed, his robe fluttering as he walks down, holding an apple as it glistens like temptation, even Rook wanted to take a bite of it. "If you continue this seamless cat and mouse chase, I will do your work myself"

"Trust me Roi du Poison," he says as Rook notices Vil offering his gloved hand. Chuckling, he takes the other's hand and plants a kiss on the gloved fingers. "I will do whatever the queen demands, you will not see their faces on the mirror, and you will only see yours"

Rook had observed if his beautiful words pleased Vil, which it did as he pulled his hand off, walking back to his throne. "Tomorrow night, I shall be awaiting good news from you."

"Certainly, Roi du Poison."

What should he do? The moment he went out of the castle, his heart wouldn't stop thumping so fast. He didn't even notice you trying to snap him out of his thoughts when you held his hand actually, he didn't even notice that he had mindlessly traveled to the cabin where you lived, the only time you got him to snap out was when you cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look into you, to see you instead of drowning in his worries.

"Rook Hunt!" you called out to him causing him to snap out of his thoughts, what a sight, you, touching his cheeks while squishing it, glaring at him all huffy. "Can't you explain to me the real reason why you decided to observe me?" you asked as his mouth turned into a thin line.

He nuzzled your hand as much as he would love to keep your touches on him forever, he should clear things up before it causes a misunderstanding, he didn't know what he talked about while being in a trance, but it might be connected to what he told you before.

"I was stating the truth when I told you that I wanted to observe you" he pulls your hands off his cheeks, a faint smile etched on his face. "I genuinely wanted to understand why the queen herself wanted you dead. Besides the mirror declaring you the fairest, I see no reason to end your life simply to claim your throne of beauty."

"Wait… so you're?" you couldn't believe it, were you so oblivious to the fact that he has been nothing but nice to you that you didn't realize that he was sent there to kill you.

"I was sent to take your life" Rook looked unfazed, but you on the other hand, had the look of betrayal, your eyes tearing up while looking at him, catching him surprised.

"What's wrong my dear?"

"You were planning to kill me?" you asked, looking down, seemingly defeatedly, but Rook grabbed your hands pulling it to his lips as his eyes narrowed. "Never Ma chère/ Mon cher!" he protests.

"I could never take the life of the fairest of them all- "

"Is that all I am to you?" your question silenced him as his grip loosens.

"Of course, not"

Rook, while he cherishes different kinds of beauty, whether it was negative or not, he realizes that seeing your distraught was not something he liked. He didn’t know how to explain to you that you were so much more than your outward appearance, he fell for you not only because of that.

"Let's run away" he states, letting your hands go as he had a determined expression on his face. "I do not want him to kill you either, so please"

He would have used his nicknames on you, but this was a dire situation, finally realizing his love for you too. Right, did you manage to understand what he said before? That he loves you?

"But- "before you even got anything out, he gave you a look that shut any protest of yours up. "I assure you, your friends will find their way back to you, no matter what."

"Why are you helping me? Was what you said before true?" Doubt clouded your thoughts. You loved him, cared for him—yes. He was an enigma in your normally mundane life. But he was also the one sent by the queen himself to kill you. Should you trust him again? "Do you have feelings for me, Rook Hunt?"

"I don't just like you, Ma chère/Mon cher," he admitted, his gaze dropping momentarily. It was amusing to see that a man like him would be speechless during the time he was supposed to profess his love for you.

"I love you" like a breath of fresh air, those three words came out of his mouth so casually, it just felt right.

Just like that, he captured your heart, managing to destroy any type of doubt that your brain was manifesting, it felt real, and for a moment you felt like some kind of princess eloping with their prince, which is almost the case with you, except this man was trying to save you from a grueling death.

"What do you say?" Once more, he extended his hand to you, reminiscent of the time he first helped you up. Now, he was guiding you towards a path you never imagined you'd tread.

Without hesitation, you grasped his hand, the horse Rook had used to reach you standing nearby. Both of you were prepared, of course, you said your goodbyes to your animal friends, promising to come back for them once the queen has calmed down. You can't leave them alone.

And during the high time of the night, Rook snuck you out, knowing that Vil's eyes would be everywhere, he also made sure that you were out of sight of any type of magic you were magicless yourself, so it was pretty easy to bypass magic induced barriers without alarming them.

"That lying piece of…" Vil's hand smashed a glass against the floor, as lightning seemed to strike the ground in perfect synchronization with his glare at the mirror, Rook lied, deceived him when he was one of his trusted sidekicks. How could he?

Do you think you can just stroll away effortlessly, avoiding any consequences? How laughable. He'll track you down somehow, and he'll ensure you either lose your position or become his possession.

[aemondsbeloved]

Helloooo, may I request headcanons about which words or actions that would make Aemond’s heart skip a beat? 💕

Like The Fairytales

summary: Aemond has a distaste for the romance in the fairytales the ladies of the court read, knowing someone’s heart could never skip a beat. At least he thinks it is impossible, until he meets you.

notes: this might be the fluffiest thing I've ever written. enjoy!

The very first time Aemond had met you was when your family had arrived in the Red Keep for a feast the King was hosting celebrating his elder brother’s name day celebration. Then you were just a lady from some house that Viserys was obliged to invite and he had not seen you until you were at the feast that eve.

When sitting at the high table he had done his best to ignore something Aegon was saying but in one of the tables far away he had notice a shimmer in the candlelight and the movement of hair as you had sat besides your family. Aemond was usually subtle, a master in observing without needing to be observed in return, so he had no fear as he looked at you for a moment. You were talking animately and your smile was a large grin as you turned to the young boy next to you and said something to him with what seemed to be a laugh.

Then you turned your head to slightly but it still led you to looking at him and Aemond stiffed, though he knew you could not tell from the distance. You did something he found strange, you smiled at him. It was no grin but a soft, kind smile that almost seemed... gentle to Aemond, as strange as that was. The ladies in the court looked away from him or only pretended to pay attention to him because he was a prince, both of which was something he found distasteful.

You did not strike him as the latter and you surely were not the former as you had not only looked right at him but smiled. It was very strange indeed, especially when the young boy you had been talking to before had nudged you with his elbow and said something that was a jape by the looks of it. It was only then that your eyes widened and you glanced on the young boy, and Aemond thought you almost looked flustered.

He ignored the feeling your stare and smile had incited and pretended that the light feeling in his heart usually so heavy was nonexistent.

Events like feasts such as these were not something that Aemond hated in itself but more so what came with it, dancing. He was a fine dance, proficient as he was in everything else he studied but he never did dance. Over the years he had rather begun to detest dancing at feasts. As usual at these celebrations he would do what duty begged him to and nothing more — he would dance with his mother and sister, one time each, then he would retreat back to the side of the hall until it was acceptable to leave.

He never had the urge to dance with a lady not when they were never interested. His elder brother danced plenty and the ladies of the court would flock to him even if they knew his reputation to be true. A drunken craven prince was more suitable than Aemond merely because of his scar and lack of two eyes. The bitterness this knowledge had grown in him was something he found comfort in. He did not need to be the prince whose hand every lord wanted for his daughter.

And yet, this eve he had wanted to dance with you and he might have enjoyed it if his mother had told him tomorrow how your father had asked Viserys to betroth you to him.

But when people had begun to move to the space in the middle of the hall to dance as music had started, Aemond had frowned and looked down at his plate still full. He had no intention of eating. Now, he felt the fool. He did not know your name and since when did he care for ladies of the court.

Helaena had insisted Aemond dance with her and he could not deny her but as soon as she switched to another dance partner he had turned from the crowd, intent on standing on the outskirts.

“You do not dance, my prince?” a voice so sweet had asked him and he moved to face you, the very person who would not leave his mind since he saw you his evening. again, he had ignored the way you made his heart nearly flutter like one of the characters in those idiotic romantic fairytales.

If you noticed his stiffness and lack of approachability, you did not make it known, merely tilting your head in the side, your hands clasped in front of your stomach as you wore that gentle smile.

“Only on occasion,” he replied and noticed how you did not seem fearful in his company. “Most ladies prefer my brother’s company.”

“They must have spent time with a different Prince Aegon than I then,” you smiled and he thought maybe you enjoyed the surprise on his face as you grinned. “Or perhaps they are all overly fond of wine. Either way, not to my taste and a drunkard makes for a poor dance partner.”

He should have reprimanded you for your words but instead he huffed a laugh. When you looked something close to flustered at his amusement with something near fondness in your eyes, he felt lighter and though he knew it to be impossible, he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat.

Aemond thought himself brave but when he knew your family would be leaving he did not say goodbye. It would be foolish, would it not? At least this is what Aemond told himself. Later in the afternoon he had promised to have supper with his mother and Alicent had given him a letter. “Lady Y/N had her handmaiden give this to Talia who gave it to me. It seems she wished for you to write her.”

“Who?” Aemond asked before he had the sense not to. When his mother smiled softly he realize this lady was the one he had talked to yesterday eve.

“The one you talked to at the feast,” she told him what he recalled now with happiness. “You forgot her name?”

“I did not ask for it,” he replied and felt foolish. This was not the order of things. The prince was supposed to ask for the lady’s name and he was supposed to ask her to dance. He was meant to ask to write her, not the other way around. He could get nothing right it seemed.

And yet the prospect of her wanting to write him set his heart fluttering no matter how much he pushed the feeling down. His mother surely saw the smile on his lips but did not say anything more.

The first letters sent were stiffly written on Aemond’s part but you always had much to say. Despite the one conversation you had he had learned all about you in — your interests, your homeland, your favorite colors, all of it. In turn, he had told you on his. How he enjoyed spending time with his sister, his favorite things to do were riding Vhagar and finding a new history his uncle Ormund would bring from the Citadel.

It was many moons before you arrived in the Red Keep again but this time Aemond had been there to greet your family. Again, your smile had seemed to captivate him and he had barely hidden his own joy upon seeing you. Later when you had taken his arm and walked with him through the castle, all the while animatedly talking to him about everything, he had realized this was the first time he had held you near. As slight and minimal as the touch was he nearly felt lightheaded and his chest felt tight in way almost pleasant if it weren’t for the lack of control.

That night when he laid on his bed he wondered if this was love was, being weak and embracing it. Was it surrendering your heart to someone even if they would step on it? Even when he woke the next morning Aemond realized that what love was when all he could think about was seeing you.

He would ask you to stroll the gardens today, he decided. He would ask if you had affections for him and if you would agree if he asked his father to betroth you two. Aemond had not felt sure of much in his life so far, not like he was sure you would agree to this.

When he posed the question later by the rose bush you had commented you adored in one letter, you looked much like you did the first time he saw you in the hall, eyes widened and looking flustered. Only now you have an air of happiness around you as you smiled sweetly at him and told him that was all you wanted, to be his.

Perhaps it was possible for his heart to skip a beat, Aemond decided. He forgot propriety as he wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you close, kissing you on the lips with what he tried to convey as love. When you kissed him back, placing a hand on his chest and the other on his shoulder Aemond was sure you loved him too, now more than ever.

For the first time Aemond was looking forward to the feast this eve. He even wanted to go dancing.

reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! <3

[flareovium]

Can I request a Selena (PGR) with a former Commandant of Babylonia who deserted after they were accused of working with the Ascendants. They become the new host of the Punishing Virus, but instead of destroying, they sought to use it to protect life.

.。o○ WHAT IF: Babylonia abandoned skk after they (allegedly) came into contact with an Ascendant? (feat. Selena)

note: keep in mind that while some aspects are taken from canon story, a lot of this is just me freestyling it, especially since selena's chapter isn't out yet.

more under the cut!

When Ishmael turned back time to restore everything to how they 'originally' were, there appears to be a slight miscalculation from her carefully thought out plan.

Something went wrong.

Selena could tell that there was something different in the world, and she sought out to find out what it was. The change felt minor, and with everyone forgetting who she was, Selena could only march on with hope for the future.

For years, she had remained in the background, silently watching— Observing as the world continued to turn and change before her eyes. Everything seemed normal up until the point where the world suddenly shifting, rewinding to some time ago.

Thus, she began to wander again, much like a knight who worked for no one but herself, searching for that needle in the haystack that had altered the events of this timeline.

Eventually, she was met face to face with a familiar figure.

She herself had never met this person. She's only ever observed or heard stories about them, how crowds would speak of them like some legendary hero in a storybook.

"They saved my life!" many would claim.

"Humanity's only hope!" others would say.

It seemed that wherever they went, only good things would follow by mentioning their heroic deeds, sparking hope across all creatures— human or construct alike.

Commandant [name].

Only, they didn't look ANYTHING like how Selena would've imagined a legendary fairytale hero.

No, this version of [name] looked as if they were melting down into the purest 'form' of the punishing virus— like they had assimilated it into their human body, becoming its host.

The 'commandant' was found in an area with an extremely high PV concentration. However, this area...

It was a paradise full of life. There were plants of many types growing in full bloom. Selena saw all sorts of trees, flowers, vegetation sprouting healthily from the ground– even her favorite irises. Critters and animals alike were prancing around freely, as if scared to go beyond the safe 'borders' which lead out to the wasteland.

This place seemed like a safe haven; A true safe eden that many could only dream of, hidden away by some weird trick of the eye that any normal human would miss easily, like a desert mirage. A little corner of earth, somehow untouched by the punishing virus.

But the Commandant stuck out like a sore thumb in the scenery. [Name] looked bitter, as if the brautiful colors of life had been drained out of their eyes.

"...Commandant [name]?" Selena was almost afraid to ask, only doing so out of curiosity.

A strange, almost hurt look flashed in their eyes.

Sighing heavily, the former Commandant narrowed their eyes. "...Please don't refer to me as 'Commandant.' If you're here to battle, I suggest you leave."

But there was a nagging thought in the back of their head.

Who was this construct, and why does she feel so familiar? Hell, why does she seem to know them?

Selena simply smiled. The gentle aura from her radiance convinced [name] that she wasn't here to harm the life that they had tried so hard to preserve and protect. In fact, [name] strangely hasn't felt this peaceful since they got deserted by Babylonia.

"I'm sorry, it seems I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Selena, or as someone once loved to call me..."

"...a wandering Iris."

[eras-mus]

Nostalgia

♪Silver x Male Reader

★Y/n, in a past life, loved fairytales as a kid, and his favorite was always Sleeping Beauty

★First Person POV

Everything felt so familiar about him, from the way his sleepy eyes traced the room, to how his voice was just like a lullaby. He felt like a dream; beautiful, warm, gentle. Do I know him? Surely I would remember someone so perfect.

I must've met him once upon a dream.

I didn't know how it was possible to fall so deeply into a trance just by looking at someone.

I never believed in love at first sight, but there was just something so... Enchanting about him.

Something so warm.

Something so comforting.

Something so gentle.

We made eye contact. It was just for a second. But I could've sworn it lasted a thousand years.

I lost all thoughts as I admired him waltz across the room with such ease.

.

.

.

That feeling turned out to be addicting and I began to look for him, my gaze would wonder in hopes of finding whoever had put me under such a curse.

Hoping that I would get to talk to him. Feel his gaze. Relive the comfort he gave me.

.

.

.

Then I saw him, sleeping so peacefully under a tree.

It was right after I had left my last class, it unfortunately ran longer because of a potions incident. At the time I thought of it as a curse but as I stepped into the empty courtyard and felt the sun on my face I began to wonder. It was almost like an invisible force pulled me to the edge of the school grounds.

I couldn't bring myself to wake him but I couldn't let this moment pass. I reached into my bag and found a piece of paper and a pen:

From the moment I saw you I felt like I

knew you. The way your took every step with

such grace and every look with such care.

I knew I needed to talk to you.

-y/n

It wasn't long. It was written poorly. And I probably shouldn't have signed my name. But I needed to know him, have him know me, so I left the letter next to him.

.

.

.

"Do I know you?"

I looked up from my food to see him.

"No, I don't think so."

"Oh."

His expression didn't change.

"What's your name?"

The question came out quicker than I would've liked it too.

"Silver."

"Silver..."

He nodded, gaze not leaving mine.

We stayed like that for a moment. One peaceful moment.

"SILVER!"

A voice cut through the lunchroom like a knife

"SILVER! ARE YOU LEAVING SIR MALLEUS UNGUARDED!"

"I should go"

He sighed, before walking away.

.

.

.

After that day I saw more of him. We always shared a smile but never traded words.

But how I dream of him.

We would go dancing together in a perfect world. Dancing in the forest. With nothing to accompany use but the birds and bugs of the night.

His skin would sparkle under the moon light.

And I would kiss his perfect lips.

.

.

.

It was a normal saturday. I did homework, chores, and scrolled through my phone.

At about 5:00 I went on a walk through the greenery on school grounds. The evening air was chilly and the sun was close to setting as I made my way back.

I stopped dead in my tracks. I heard talking. Not a conversation. Just talking.

I follow the sound to see a familiar boy talking to several animals. Racoons, birds, rabbits, and deer alike were gathered around him, almost like they were listening.

"Oh, but he's a stranger."

He spoke.

"We have nothing to talk about"

Birds chipped back.

"Yes, I suppose your right."

He really was talking to animals. Not just talking to them, but having a conversation with them. This boy truly amazed you.

"Silver?"

I whispered.

He jumped, as he turned I could see his eyes go wide.

The animals scattered.

"What are you doing out here?"

His question was calm but frantic.

"I was walking"

"I see"

I got the feeling that I should go, like I was intruding.

"I never got your name."

He interrupted the still silence.

"y/n"

I watched his eyes go wide.

Like on que, the memory of the note came back to me.

We held each others wide-eyed gaze.

"I should go."

I broke the silence this time.

"Please don't."

He stepped closer.

I didn't move.

We continue to stare into each other's eyes.

"I don't know you, but I know your presence."

He seemed to nod in agreement to this.

I finally closed the gap between our faces. For one more perfect moment, I could feel the feeling of his lips on mine.

Then I ran.

I didn't know if I wanted him to follow or not.

But the feeling of his lips still lingered on mind.

And I knew he would danced through my dreams that night.

[lefarte]

i see that name…. Leg guard nsfw mayhaps? Go crazy lefarte!!

SIR YES SIR OORAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

18+ under the cut you have been warned

Reader for this is fem even though it wasn’t specified sorry, preexisting relationship (you’re engaged), more detailed tags under cut

Tags: Fingering, religious shame kink??? Is this a thing?? Very Intense Gender Roles (it is like… midevial England), I admit that reader is a bit flexible here but this is very much a position you can do with help and I can confirm it, Legarde has a god complex which manifests in interesting ways in the bedroom

Your lover was always a romantic at heart.

He had big dreams, big ideas. He bought you flowers, sweet pastries and dresses. Adorned you with jewels and gold. He wasn’t always around, but that was okay. He swore you were his only. He was a chaste and virtuous man, not like one would think when they heard the name mercenary, he was a knight like a fairytale. He said in his letters that he thought of you every night. He sprayed the letter with his cologne.

It was not your job to ask questions. And there was little to ask. He said you were a silly thing. You worry too much. Everyone understood where the jewels and gold came from. It was silly of you to think that when he clasped that necklace around your throat that it was for love, not an expression of ownership. Silly, and cute.

“You touched,” He hummed. “While I was gone… without my permission?”

“I thought…” Your words stumbled as he suddenly grabbed your legs, and folded them over your shoulders. He ran his free hand over your body and flipped up your dress.

“I see.” He murmured. “It’s wet.”

Even a man of god falls to temptations, and no human is without sin. You were taught this in church - eve bit the apple and whatnot - but your lover never lusted like an animal. He played with you like you were a curious bauble. Sometimes you wondered if he even was a man at all.

He ran his palm over your crotch. “Lonely without me, I presume. Well, I can’t fault you for it.”

“Please, darling… your letters…” You admitted. “You were teasing me.”

You caught a glimpse of a smile in his eyes. “Perhaps you are more dirty minded than I had thought? I don’t recall doing any such thing.”

He suddenly tugged your underwear, leaving you exposed. His hands continued to gently trace and explore along the outline of your lips.

“Quite the predicament we have here,” His fingertips brushed against your clit. “Here I have this needy little thing here, all riled up, and yet… I don’t know if you deserve even my fingers, do you?”

You leaned into his hand. “Forgive me… my lord husband…”

Your body jolted as you felt a light reprimanding tap against your mound.

“You failed to have faith that I would return. You failed to remain chaste. You failed to have patience.” He rubbed the spot painfully slow. “My, what an impure woman. If I were a cruel husband, I would spank you for that.”

Trying to move your hips, he pressed your legs down harder until your knees were touching your chest. He straddled you, leaning down close to you, the tip of his nose barely touching yours.

“But I’m not a cruel husband, am I?”

“No…” You said. “I love you.”

“Good.” You felt a finger slide along your entrance. “You’re a sinful woman for me, dear. In fact… you’re adorable. Say you love me again…”

The warmth in your crotch only grew as he rubbed you and pressed against it. You sighed out repeated ‘I love yous’ as his finger finally slid in. One, and then another. He watched with a pleased expression as his fingers entered.

“Good girl,” He said softly. “I forgive you.”

“Y-You’re an angel,” You flushed. “I love you.”

“Even more.” He continued with that strange gentle expression. “Tell me more. Say… say I’m your god.”

You paused. “Dear?…”

“You’re such a temptation, putting these thoughts in my head…” He never relented, slowly pushing his fingers deeper. “I want more of you. I want you to be my first worshipper, the first one to kiss my hand as I take the throne. I want you to bear my children. I want you to pray to me like you pray to god. My woman. The only woman. Mine. Mine...”

“Wh…what throne? Ahh…” His fingers began to speed up, making lewd noises as he bore down his fingers upon you, down to the knuckle. “I…I… wait, I don’t understand…”

“It’s not your job to understand, is it?” He whispered into your ear. “I told you, darling, you think too much.”

“Y…yeah…” You agreed, biting your lip. “I think too much… yeah….”

He looked down at you patronizingly. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“It does…” You purred in agreement as his fingers began to fuck you even faster. “It does feel good…”

You felt your toes curl instinctively as you got lost in pleasure, your moans escaping you on their own. Your body began to melt as the wet sound and rhythmic pumping begun to get repetitive. Lovingly bucking against his fingers, your mind was getting hazy at this point. Pleasure filled your senses.

But suddenly he pulled his fingers out, leaving you cold.

Le’garde clicked his tongue. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’m not done with you. It’s time for us to make the baby, wouldn’t you say?…”

[littlemisssoulful]

🎵There may be something there that wasn’t there before🎵

In ‘Once Upon A Time…’ AU, I paired Mr. Grumpy, aka, The Beast and Miss Chatterbox, aka, Cinderella!💙🩷

I’ll explain now on how they met, bond, and maybe… there might be a spoiler!🤭

When Miss Chatterbox was alone in the woods, playing with animals when she bumped into Mr. Grumpy. She was afraid of his appearance, which he knew she would react that way as many feared him.

However, she tried to tame and befriend him, but it wasn’t that easy due to his temper. She tried many ways to get him to open up.

One day, on their journey, they get into an argument and Miss Chatterbox ran deep into the forest and wolves came and tried to ambush her. Luckily, Mr. Grumpy used his beastly strength and courage to fight and scare the wolves, resulting him wounded.

There, Miss Chatterbox nursed him back to health, and the two would slowly began to get along. Miss Chatterbox became less naive while Mr. Grumpy began to become much kinder and empathetic.

The two would meet up with the other fairytales, and agreed to join the quest to defeat the void. During their journeys, there were some ups and downs, but slowly, they fell for each other, but Mr. Grumpy doubts himself as who could ever love a hideous and scary beast?

One of their favourite things to do was to dance, but when Mr. Grumpy offer her for a dance for the first time, she refused as it reminds her of the ball with The Prince she thought would be her true love. There, he would learn about her past trauma and Mr. Grumpy tells his story too.

With that, their bond grew much stronger and Miss Chatterbox felt safe around him. He was gentle and caring to her, even though he can be grumpy at times. However, when the final battle began, Mr. Grumpy fought against the creatures and was brainwashed to become an uncontrollable beast.

Miss Chatterbox tried to snap him out of it, but he ended up attacking her. This got her unconscious and injured. Luckily, Mr. Tickle managed to snap him out of it, and he realised what he had done. He vowed to destroy all the voids, even if it means he joins death with Miss Chatterbox.

After the void was defeated, Mr. Grumpy aided Miss Chatterbox and cradled her gently, begging her to live. Miss Chatterbox opened her eyes weakly and whispered that she loves him and has forgiven him. With that, he confessed his love and the two kisses for the first time.

What happens next…

Well, should I tell?😅

Oh forget it, I’ll tell!🤣🤣🤣

Then, Miss Chatterbox was healed and Mr. Grumpy was changed to a handsome prince. There, the two kissed again. After that, the fairytale characters were given the option to leave the world and return their homes or to stay. Mr. Grumpy and Miss Chatterbox decided to stay in this world and try to make this world heal from the trauma and damages.

SHOUTOUT TO @toffeechad FOR DRAWING THIS! THANK YOU!😭💖😭💖😭

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 4

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, drinking/alcohol, mentions of sex, mentions of blood, violence, killing, angst, i hate the pacing of this but i rewrote it like three times and then gave up

series masterlist │my masterlist

after sharing your first kiss, logan becomes much more clingy. he’s attached to you at nearly all times. if you’d thought he was affectionate before, you had no idea what you were getting into. his favourite thing is to press his face into your neck, licking and biting the skin there, but it’s not just your neck. you’ve become a chew toy for a 400 pound man.

he’s never too harsh with it, always gentle with you. he knows you’re not as strong as him. it’s affectionate nibbling, like dogs biting their owners, and you love it because it’s such a clear sign of logan’s happiness.

it reminds you of the early days with logan, where he couldn’t stand to be in a different room as you, though now it’s no longer out of fear but out of a deep desire for closeness and companionship.

and things are good for a while, like that. you enjoy the ease of your unlabeled relationship. he’s yours and you’re his, in every capacity. there’s no need to put an arbitrary, man-made label on your relationship when most of it is quiet, unspoken. you’ve never really had a conversation about what you are, but it’s obvious.

you had thought yourself happy before meeting logan, at peace with the life you’d made for yourself, self-sufficient and doing all the things you loved. you weren’t slaving away at a corporate job, making hardly enough money to support your hobbies, leaving you with hardly any time to enjoy them anyway. it was good.

this is a different kind of happiness, one you’d thought was only real in fairytales. you feel as though he has some sort of six-sense telling him how you’re feeling, when you’re tense or unhappy. he makes you feel like a princess.

but all good things must come to an end. 

he starts to have more nightmares, takes to sleeping in the guest room because he doesn’t want to keep you awake all night with him. more often than not you’ll hear him shouting in his sleep, deep grunts of pain that have you rising from your bed and joining him, hoping your presence will soothe him.

and you like to think that it does. you never get too close to him when he’s tossing and turning restlessly, claws out, metal gleaming in the low moonlight streaming from the gap in the curtains, but you know that logan’s senses are enhanced, heightened, and so you hope that he can feel your presence even while stuck in a nightmare, that you can drag him out of it. eventually he always either settles or wakes up, though both are better alternatives than watching him struggle against an invisible enemy.

you’ve had a few more close calls, where his claws get a little too close, where you let your guard down and lean closer towards him even though you know better, because your heart aches for him.

he becomes more human by the day. he doesn’t tell you when his memories start to come back to him, but you can tell.

you can tell when you get home to find him on the couch with a bottle of whiskey that he must have gotten from the cellar, the one you’d never shown him how to find. it belonged to your grandfather, so you’d gotten it along with the house, but you don’t drink very often and so you haven’t made much use of it.

he takes large swigs of the half-empty bottle, the smell of whiskey on his breath and the taste of booze on his tongue when you go to kiss him. 

you can tell when he becomes less expressive with you, no longer sharing his emotions on his face or with his behaviour as easily as before. he doesn’t bound up to you and sniff you to check where you’ve been, to check if anyone’s gotten too close, their scent clinging onto your clothes. he doesn’t growl when he’s upset or annoyed, just grits his teeth and clenches his jaw tight.

you can tell by the way he holds back his little noises when you pull his head into your lap, scratching at his scalp and tugging on the longer tufts of his hair that you’d jokingly started to refer to as kitty ears. you miss the soft purring, the knowledge that logan was happy and comfortable with you.

sometimes you’ll plan out conversations in your head, acting out how you’ll talk to him and the words you’ll use and how he might reply. but when you try to ask him if he’s alright, placing a hand on his trembling one, sitting down in his lap so he can’t escape, he always shrugs it off. he tells you you’re sweet for worrying about him and kisses you until you no longer remember what you wanted to say.

there’s something happening in his mind that he’s not telling you about, but you chalk up all his odd behaviours to him needing time to deal with remembering his old life.

if his constant nightmares tell you anything, it’s that the memories returning to him aren’t positive ones. there’s a pain in him that wasn’t there before, a darkness that lingers behind his eyes, haunted by things he’s seen. you can’t imagine anyone would deal very well with the onslaught of traumas returning with a vengeance.

he doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop hugging you from behind, doesn’t stop surprising you by sneaking up behind you and picking you up out of nowhere, making you shriek and giggle. so you tell yourself you’re being dramatic, it’ll resolve itself in time.

it doesn’t.

he goes out to run through the forest, to hunt as the natural predator he was always meant to be, but when he comes back he won’t speak to you. he shrugs you off, locking the door to the bathroom so you can’t meet him in there.

it’s a small thing, but it’s a crack in the routines you and logan have been building together, the wordless nature of your relationship crumbling around you because all of a sudden it no longer feels like the two of you are on the same wavelength.

you cry silently on the couch, head in your hands, feeling like your world is collapsing. the perfect bubble that had settled around you and logan had popped, and now reality was coming in to destroy the fantasy you’d grown accustomed to. you should have seen it coming - in fact, you had, with every night he spent in a bottle instead of on your lips, but you’d chosen to ignore it.

he doesn’t seem to be as in-tune with your emotions anymore, and you wonder if it’s because he simply doesn’t care enough to try.

the through wrenches you in two.

you had given logan your heart, placed it in his rough, calloused hands and asked him to hold it for you. and now you could feel that very same hand, once so gentle and careful, squeezing tighter and tighter, a physical ache.

you need time away from him, away from the house where every corner has memories attached. so you journey into town.

you’re out for a while, walking aimlessly. the streets grow dark, the sun setting in hues of orange and pink behind the horizon, streetlamps turning on to replace the sunlight, though their dim glow is hardly an effective replacement. and still, you don’t return home, not quite ready to face logan.

it’s as you’re preparing to head back, muttering reassuring words to yourself under your breath, that someone grabs you from behind, a hand against your mouth so you can’t scream. you’re shoved into an alley, thin and dingy between two shops that have already closed for the night, their employees gone home to rest, no one around to hear your struggles.

you scream, though the sound is muffled, and cry and kick at your assailant, but he won’t let go. he’s stronger than you.

you think about logan, who doesn’t know where you are, who probably walked out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist, stray droplets of water tracing down the grooves of his abs. you think about how on any other day you would have kissed down his chest to catch the water on your lips, not yet venturing below his waist, though you’ve done other things.

you hope you don’t die tonight. there’s still so much you haven’t done, so much you haven’t said.

and then the body holding yours is gone and you fall to the ground, knees scraping the pavement on your way down. you cry and cry, fear and anger and relief all washing together into a mess you can’t name. you barely notice the sounds of your assailant begging for mercy, or the low growl from your saviour. but you can smell the blood in the air, the tang of iron.

“what the fuck were you thinking?” strong arms lift you up and instinctively you squirm to try to get away, until a hand grabs your chin and forces your gaze upwards. logan’s furious glare stares back at you, his eyes narrowed and jaw tense.

“i- i’m sorry,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out, and you collapse against him. because even if he’s covered in blood and his claws are still out and he’s just murdered a man, even if he’s clearly angry and dangerous, you’ve never felt safer.

he’s quiet the whole way home. he doesn’t speak to you as he carries you inside the house, refusing to let you walk on your own, doesn’t speak to you as he cleans the cuts on your knees, doesn’t speak to you as he settles you down on the couch with a soft blanket fresh out of the dryer, doesn’t speak to you as he makes your tea the exact way you like it.

and then, “wanna tell me what you were doing out there? you know it’s unsafe for a pretty girl like you after dark, you don’t need me telling you that.”

“i just needed some air,” you argue, though there’s not much heat behind the words, staring down at your steaming mug of tea, watching the unmoving liquid as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. logan scoffs, and you can see him in your peripheral vision, looking so unlike the man you thought you knew.

“there’s plenty of air here, we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“you know what i mean,” you sigh, and he stares at you with his hands on his hips until you roll your eyes and continue, “i needed to be away from you! is that what you want to hear? you’re different lately and it scares me because everything was so great for some time and now you’re…”

“different?” he laughs sharply, “yeah, i’ve got my memories back. i remember every awful fucking thing that’s ever happened to me, every time i’ve been tortured. you know how many times i’ve been tortured? you think i’d act the same after that?”

“it’s not that,” you argue, placing your mug down on the coffee table, “we don’t sleep in the same bed anymore! you refuse to let me see you when you come home after hunting! you don’t cuddle up to me like you did before! you used to kiss my neck all the time and now you don’t! you’re just… pulling away. and i know i’m being selfish, fuck do i know it. but every time i’ve tried to have a conversation with you about this you shut it down so what was i supposed to do, logan?”

“you wanna have a conversation?” he shouts, “fine, talk.”

your breath is coming out in ragged pants. there’s a fire in your veins, a fury you haven’t felt in a very long time, it’s intensity paralysing you. you watch logan’s face, the way he stands before you, his imposing figure stretched above yours.

and there’s nothing you can say. the words you’ve been preparing every night before bed for days and days flutter away in a breeze. all you can do is watch his chest rising and falling.

“i wish you would talk to me,” is the only thing you manage to choke out.

“you’re not getting that version of me back,” he says, voice finally softening into something resembling his usual gruff but not unkind tone, “i remember who i am now. so you gotta let go of this shit, or you gotta let go of me.”

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[abarbaricyalp]

hey!! <3 Too Sweet for the wip game if you’re still doing it because i still remember you mentioning you were working on it (haven’t stopped thinking about it since)

I can't remember what I said when I first started talking about it, so apologies if this a repeat! WIP Game

Too Sweet is based on the Hozier song, obvi! It's told from Bucky's point of view as he watches Sam date, and recover, from a variety of partners who should be ideal for him, but just don't work out for one reason or another--usually related to what Sam was attracted to about them in the first place. Someone kind and gentle can't handle the Captain America danger. Someone in his running group is too focused growing better for themselves. Someone who knows/works with him as Cap only treats him as Cap, etc etc. And Bucky silently pines and aches (and hates all of these people for leaving Sam) because he thinks Sam is too good for him/he's too bad for Sam. It's supposed to be a 5+1 but I dunno how many more fake partners I have in me lmao

.

"Don't sulk. And stop chewing on your nails," Rhodey said, appearing in the chair beside Bucky with a frankly uncanny quiet.

Bucky looked away from where his gaze was drilling into Sam and the man he was dancing with. "I'm older than you," Bucky pointed out. "You can't order me around."

"I outrank you too," Rhodey pointed out with a small smirk. 

"You and most of the army. Tweety outranks me." He nodded off towards Joaquin, who was not watching Sam the way he normally did. Instead, he was three people deep into an animated story and an adoring crowd.

"It's not going to last," Rhodey continued. He usually had some remark about how Joaquin was a 'good kid' or something, but clearly he had a mission today.

Bucky took in a steadying breath as he dragged his eyes away from Sam again. "Have you met Winston? Even I like him. He was practically gift-wrap-made for Sam. Sam's crazy about him."

"Sam likes him," Rhodey accepted. "And they're pretty cute. But it's not going to last," he repeated. 

"Why do you say that?"

Since beginning to spend more time with Sam--and following him around like a shadow when he could--he'd learned that Sam and Rhodey had become close friends, despite all of the bullshit that tried to get between them. Rhodey was the kind of noble that Bucky thought only existed in fairytales, so it made sense him and Sam found camaraderie in each other. There was some super-secret Air Force bond that Sam wouldn't tell Bucky about, too. Bucky liked Rhodey. He thought he was level-headed and no-nonsense, which Bucky was appreciating more as he realized how rare it was nowadays. 

Still, Rhodey could be nosy when it came to Sam. Could be as bad as all the old folks down in Louisiana, who were the reason Sam was slow dancing and laughing with Winston now. Bucky always had a suspicious side-eye ready when Rhodey brought up Sam in a less than professional context.

Like talking about his relationship not lasting.

Bucky gnawed on his cuticle again and watched Sam get spun around in a dizzying turn combo. He watched him catch himself on Winston's chest and hide his laugh against Winston's shoulder.

"Because I saw the way Winston reacted to Sam getting home last weekend."

Bucky bit down on the side of his finger too hard and tasted copper instantly. "He came all the way to DC to see Sam?"

Rhodey shrugged. "Sure, but he was freaking out about it. We were a day late, comms were out of the question. Winston was losing it."

Bucky shot him a strangled sort of look. "You're complaining that he's a concerned partner?"

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Sam wasn't even hurt. Imagine how he's gonna react the first time Sam winds up in a hospital or a fall is caught in HD and plays on the news for a week straight."

"I get pissed off about things like that," Bucky pointed out.

"But you stick through it. I'm just saying, a lot of soldiers lose partners who can't handle the danger of the job. Imagine dating a superhero."

Bucky couldn't imagine it. Being best friends with one was exhausting enough and he was one himself. All of the people who kept his bed warm were hardly interested in his long-term wellbeing. It's not something he thought about often.

"Sam's always alright," he said. "He's the last guy someone would have to worry about. He's smart out there."

Rhodey leveled him with a skeptical look. "Isn't there a 'Days since last self sacrifice' countdown on your fridge?"

[sirianasims]

The next summer, we travelled to Henford-on-Bagley to get married near the place Cecilia grew up. We rented a tiny cottage and spent a few days before the wedding visiting places from her childhood.

She showed me an old gazebo and the local ruins she used to play in, her favourite tree. I felt honoured that she would share all this with me.

The Bramblewood felt like a place in a dream, and it only seemed fitting that this was where Cecilia had come from.

She even took me skinny-dipping by the waterfalls of the Bagley river.

Cecilia was my very own fairytale princess and I was almost surprised that various small animals weren’t constantly accosting her to sing a duet or trying to sew her a dress.

I was about to make a joke about it, but when I turned around, I saw her trying to befriend a couple of small birds. It took effort not to burst out laughing and scare them away.

Then came the wedding itself.

Cecilia looked radiant and I almost forgot to breathe as her father walked her towards me.

I had never met Stephen, as he had stayed behind on the Bell family farm after the divorce from Cecilia’s mother. I had been nervous about it, but it was clear that much of Cecilia’s gentle nature came from him.

Her mother, Ariana, and her brother, Leopold, I knew from the first time we dated. Although her brother was no longer that annoying little kid who would come knocking at the door to Cecilia’s room while she and I were making out, only to run away giggling.

And just like that, we were married. I still couldn’t believe that she wanted to spend her life with me, that she was truly mine now.

Considering that the wedding was all the way across the sea, I was touched that Athena and Jamie had come, especially since Athena was heavily pregnant. At least someone else appreciated that the champagne was alcohol-free.

Colten made a toast to the joys of being married, and I caught Katherine and Conrad exchanging a significant look.

I knew it couldn’t be easy for her to attend, but I appreciated her and Conrad coming – and that they were taking Freya home with them.

I really didn’t want Freya to stay with me for my wedding night.

As I entered the tiny bedroom in our rented cottage, I stopped dead in my tracks. Cecilia had already removed her dress and the flowers in her hair and was waiting for me.

“Hello, husband”, she purred.

Mesmerised, I reached up to unbutton my shirt, only to find it already opened.

“Fuck, Cecilia. I’m glad I didn’t know you were wearing that under your dress all day, I wouldn’t have been able to focus.”

She laughed and sat on the bed, looking at me eagerly.

“I wanted to surprise you!”

“Yeah, well, colour me surprised”, I mumbled hoarsely, as I struggled to open my belt and kick off my shoes at the same time.

I joined my wife on the bed and kissed her, hungrily. My hand found her stomach, still almost flat.

Almost.

She smiled.

“I don’t think anyone noticed yet.”

We had decided that we wanted children as soon as possible, but it had still been a surprise when Cecilia found out that she was pregnant just before the wedding. I was delighted. And terrified. I saw doctor Holland regularly all through the pregnancy, and Cecilia did her best to remind me that the situation was very different this time.

And it was. Even as she slowly reached a size where she was borrowing my old shirts because none of her own clothes fit, I felt no signs of my depression returning.

I wasn’t truly worried about us having a baby, only about getting hit by depression again. The thought of Cecilia carrying my child didn’t fill me with anxiety, but with joy. Still, it was a relief to be able to share my thoughts and worries with her on our, now rather slow, walks.

Freya was very excited about getting a brother or sister. I knew Katherine had mixed feelings about it. She said she was happy for us, but I could tell she was a little jealous. She would never give Freya siblings.

Towards the end of her pregnancy, I think I was even more impatient for our child to be born than Cecilia was. Not that she wasn’t very ready to get it over with as well. She had been uncomfortable all day, and was now lying on top of me so I could stroke her back, twisted awkwardly to the side to make room for her belly.

Her breathing was slow and steady, like she was almost falling asleep. Then I felt something.

“Cecilia, darling”, I mumbled. “I love you no matter what, but either you just peed on me, or we really need to go. Now.”

She quickly changed and we left. When we arrived at the hospital, I felt my pulse quickening. I loved Freya more than my own life, but my last visit to the maternity ward ten years ago had been traumatising.

But Cecilia was in pain, and as I was swaying back and forth to soothe her, I was able to put the past aside.

This was here and now.

I was looking on in awe as she gave birth. I wanted to take away the pain, help her, but somehow her body knew how to do all the right things.

Before long, she was holding our daughter in her arms.

I had two daughters now.

I couldn’t be happier.

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