#arthur rimbaud x reader

[tillyalf427]

Verlaine+Rimbaud x reader nsfw headcannons 18+

Notes : so I read through literally every verlaine and rimbaud x reader on here AGAIN last night and there's not nearly enough out there so uhhh...here have this 😂

Please read the warnings, I'm not 100% sure how tagging works on Tumblr anymore so read at your own discretion, most warnings are only brief but I thought I'd include them anyway!

Warnings: nsfw, bondage, choking, soft dom Verlaine, oral sex, praise kink, hickeys, fingering, riding, vaginal sex, sadism, edging, oral fixation, blowjobs, threesome, female terms used for reader

- Okay but soft dom Verlaine who loves the thought of the amount of control he has over both himself and the reader.

- So like when he's asked to choke them he loves how much control and precision is needed to use the right amount of pressure and not take things too far

It reminds him of his job as that also requires precise skills.

- Or when he ties you up with ropes criss-crossing over your skin, the process of tugging you to your knees by the ropes wound around your arms sends a jolt of electricity through his skin

- Let him hold onto your arms where they're bound behind your back whilst he fucks you and he'll go absolutely feral.

- Isn't a fan of gags because he wants to hear you and hear how much you're enjoying it, how else would he know when he's doing a good job?

- He needs validation!! Whether it's in the form of you moaning, or the garbled words that escape your mouth, he doesn't mind

- Potential praise kink anyone?

- Please he needs all the love in the world, tell him he's your good boy

- His favourite place to leave marks is probably your neck, he loves it when you can't hide them underneath your clothes, call him possessive if you must

- Likes to bite across your collar bones because he thinks they're pretty

- Isn't all that confident with eating you out or stretching you open because he's always afraid of hurting you

- But if you want him to he's more than happy to let you ride his face

- And fucking yourself onto his fingers drives him absolutely wild

- It gives him the little ego boost he needs to start scissoring his fingers, eventually slipping a third finger inside you before continuing where he left off

- Most the time he would be fairly quiet however, most often he would let out small grunts and quiet moans in between heavy breaths

-And sadist Rimbaud who loves nothing more than to tease and torture you until you're begging him to do anything.

- This man eats pussy like it's his job

- He'll happily spend hours edging you with both his tongue and his fingers, stretching you open slowly with a lazy smile.

- Pull his hair a little and he will lose it

- Rimbaud with an oral fixation anyone?

- Anyway

- His favourite place to leave marks is your thighs and hips, he loves to see the red marks blooming on your inner thighs and seeing the way his hand marks wrap around your hips.

-He probably has pretty long fingers which he uses to his advantage to tease and finger you

-Loves to watch you riding him, seeing the way your thighs tremble from the effort and the pleasure

- Every now and then he rolls his hips up as well just to see you gasp and tremble

- Try not to flinch when his cold fingers trail across your skin otherwise he'd take full advantage and finger you when his hands are freezing cold, watching you arch away from the strange sensation as your warmth surrounded his fingers.

- He would always end up flushed so pretty, pale skin warming up to a bright blush that travelled down his neck.

- His hair contrasts against it so nicely, falling around you and tickling with every movement.

And the pair of them together? Well...good luck 🤣

- Verlaine would hold you down against his chest whilst Rimbaud went to town with his tongue against your pussy

- Not only that but he would 100% use his ability, increasing the pressure of gravity on you until you could barely even wriggle.

- Both would make it their life's mission to cover you in marks, hickeys, bite marks, everything

- Nothing riles either of them up more than seeing finger shaped marks pressed into your hips when you're getting changed or when there's a mark too high on your neck for you to hide.

- Picture Verlaine tying Rimbaud's hands to the headboard, teasing him until you get home before encouraging you to sink down on Rimbaud's dick, riding him as he fell apart beneath you.

- Verlaine would tease Rimbaud's mouth, pressing his dick down his throat as you bounced on his cock.

- Or Rimbaud ordering Verlaine to fuck you whilst he sits and watches, cock in his hand and praises rolling off his tongue.

- Unless Verlaine happens to come without permission then he'll stand up, fingers tangling in Verlaine's hair to tilt his head back, whispering in his ear with a harsh bite to the skin there.

- He forces Verlaine to eat you out with his own release still dripping out of you.

- Fucking after a mission when you're all wine-drunk and tipsy, making everything sloppy and messy from the lack of coordination between the three of you.

-wet kisses and it's just generally fairly messy as you all tangle together

- And if for whatever reason you have a mission where you have to seduce the target, you may not be able to walk once the three of you get home.

- They both get jealous, irritation itching beneath their skin despite the knowledge that it was only for a mission.

- The sex that night would be rough, all harsh movements, biting and firm hands holding you in place however, once they were done with you, the softness would return.

- Between them they'd help you get cleaned up, running a bath for you and helping to wash the sweat and grime off your body, fingers tangling in damp hair as one of them rubbed shampoo in before taking the shower head to rinse the bubbles out.

- Then once you were dried you'd quickly be bundled up in their arms back in bed, soft words and kisses being passed around

- And if you happen to not be in the mood one day? No worries they'll work it out amongst themselves, giving you the option to watch if you're up for it.

- And quite frankly it's intriguing to watch the dynamic between the two of them on their own just as much as it is to be between the two of them.

- Seeing the way Verlaine submits fully to Rimbaud sends a shock of pleasure through you and uncovers the urge to have Verlaine in that position yourself

- Or seeing how Verlaine pressed Rimbauds legs up against his chest whilst fucking into him filled you with the perfect ideas on how to tease him to completion in the future.

- Overall, the pair of them are probably pretty good to you in bed, they both have strong personalities and motivations so there would likely be occasional times when they clash with each other

- But if they do just tie them both to the headboard with vibrators against their dicks and tease them for hours on end 😉

[ananiel]

The God era has fallen a long time ago. Many names were lost in time, along with their greatness and wealth.

The only ones that remained were the ones that could be associated with historical things and other religions.

You knew them all, or at least, most of them. After all , You mother herself was one of those that were forgotten, and let's not talk about your father, who everyone knows but forgets about at the same time.

Your mother was the goddess of nightmares, your father the one and only god of reality

Now, the titles were revoked from your parents a long while ago, which means that You aren't a Goddess anymore, but You could be considered one of the most powerful witches. Your powers are based on those of Your parents, which means You could transform horrible nightmare like creatures to reality. Monsters under the bed, big spiders, people from the past with a more deranged personality, You name it.

Of course, in the witch world, You are very respected for your abilities (feared as well) but to the people that don't have powers think You are a crazy woman with a rather sinister look and a raven that hisses at people (sometimes with a cat that caws too) even if You were of a rather young age

One day You were reading alongside your pet a fantasy book at the local library when he observed You from a distance

“that's not how magic works” You mumble and the crow nods

“oh, and how are you so sure?” he asks as he sits down next to you

You don't respond to that, which he finds interesting to say the least

He quickly grew interested and when he wanted to ask around about You, he soundly faced a problem he didn't think would occur : everyone described You differently.

Now he clearly was interested in finding out everything he can about You, after all, if You were just what he expected, he could use your powers to make his plans so much easier

But no, You were too smart for that. No matter how much he tries, he can’t make You do what he wants, You never fall for his words. And truth be told, he found that at the end of the night when he replayed all of your conversations in his head, he was being played by You

And gods above, how he started to like it, like it so much that the next time he saw You, he brought a little present with him, one taht he knew You have never seen before:

The limbs of the suitors You had. And to your horror, he threw them around the house, your house, in all the places your creatures were hidding, even giving one to your crow that was actually one of your most trusted nightmares hidden behind a harmless form

You didn't know how he figured it out, but looking into his eyes, seeing that crazed looked made You sure of something : he was the nightmare that became reality for you

[thelovelywriteress]

FAVOURITE TYPE OF DEATH

─ Arthur Rimbaud (Leonardo DiCaprio)

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tw - mention of death and attempted muder

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The room is dark, the only light a faint glow filtering through the curtains. You’re asleep, your body at rest, the silence wrapping around you like a cocoon. But that calm is soon shattered. The door creaks open, a shadow slipping through, moving toward you with slow, deliberate steps.

You feel a touch, light and teasing, fingers brushing against your skin. The sensation pulls you from sleep. Your eyes open in a sudden jolt, your heart skipping a beat as you almost scream. But then you see him. Arthur. His smirk plays on his lips as he hovers over you, enjoying your vulnerability, basking in your moment of weakness.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare up at him. "Arthur," you manage to whisper, your voice sharp,"Don't you think your sudden presence can give someone a heart attack." While you were serious, Arthur as always find it humourous and states that you are not the type that can die from heart failures.

"Correct. And it's not my preferred type of death anyways." You state in a monotone tone, thinking Arthur once again might give some sadistic repose but shockingly he was interested in what kind of death you preferred.

You didn't hesitate. "Strangled," you reply, your tone flat, almost detached. "That’s how I’d prefer to go." One might think this lead to a deeper conversation though that wasn't case here.

There’s silence between you, thick with tension. And then, without warning, his shoots out, wrapping his hands around your neck. His grip is firm but not yet suffocating. His eyes lock with yours, a cruel glint flashing in them as he leans in closer, his voice a low growl. "Like this, (Y/N)?"

He envisions you panicking—your nails digging into his skin, your face twisting in terror, begging for breath. He imagines your body writhing beneath him, your life slipping away as you fight to stay alive. But as stated, it was all part of his imagination cause reality doesn’t match his fantasy.

Instead of desperation that all he saw was a calm face. Your hands rest still at your sides, not reaching for him, not fighting back. You just stare at him, your eyes unwavering, your breath slowing under his grip. And in your gaze, there’s something that unsettles him—a quiet, chilling acceptance.

You wait, your eyes locked on his, as if challenging him, daring him to go further. There’s no fear in you, no panic. Only a calm, resolute strength. It unnerves him in ways he didn’t expect.

His fingers tighten for a brief moment, just enough to feel your pulse beneath his touch. But it’s not enough to scare you. Instead, it’s him who feels the tension, the pressure of your gaze weighing down on him. He expected fear, he wanted resistance. Instead, you give him nothing but quiet defiance.

His grip loosens. His hand slips from your throat, retreating in frustration. You don’t move, don’t flinch. You just keep staring, your eyes holding that same unreadable expression, as if you see through him, see past his cruel games and into something far deeper, far more fragile.

He stands, watching you for a long moment, his heart pounding in his chest, his control over the situation feels hollow, as though you’ve taken it from him without even trying.

He loosen his grip on your throat as he let out a comment that was supposed to be taunt to you but sounds more like a cover to hide his lack of power in situation.

"Do you really think I will let you die this easily?" A smirk dancing on his charming face.

"I would be a fool to even imagine it."

[ruified]

i just finished reading dazai, chuuya, age 15 so here are some quotes that made me lose my mind (and me explaining why)

…Their argument further escalated when Dazai wouldn't say who was the mastermind behind the black flames. However, Mori had given them strict orders not to solve their problems through violence or threats.

Therefore, they picked what they deemed the fairest method of deciding things: arcade games. The loser would have to obey the winner no matter what.

They ended up playing close to a hundred matches, but that's a story for another time.

the fact that they chose arcade games to settle such a serious matter is so childish /pos i love how they bring out this side in each other, they both had to grow up pretty fast but they were able to do stuff like this around each other. even within the sheep, who took chuuya in, he still had to act like a leader despite his age, and this change is demeanor is strikingly obvious when shirase and the others show up at the arcade and confront chuuya. dazai also had very little chances to act as a teen would and do normal teenager boy stuff, settling a bet over an arcade game was pretty close to that experience though.

"You can't use your hands anymore," said Chuuya. Then he shouted, "Dazai! Now!"

"I'm already on it!"

Dazai sprinted right for Randou, one fist raised.

The boy's eyes were as clear as the sky on a sunny day; they lacked any shred of trepidation. This was not something earned, for only those determined to live could possess their heavenly blue sparkle.

DAZAI’S EYES IN THIS SCENE???? my interpretation of it is that in this very moment dazai wanted to live, and that’s what he was fighting for. he wasn’t just spewing shit when he said that chuuya convinced him to live, at least to live through this fight. i love him sm, 15/pm dazai gotta be one of my favorite complex/fucked up lil guys

"You must die so that I can absorb your dead body and learn what became of my friend—so that I can fill in those missing eight years— so that I can save him."

oh rimlaine my favorite divorcees, how you make my heart ACHE. now “save him” can mean two different things here as it can be literally or figuratively. literally speaking, of course, would just be that arthur would find him if he was alive (keeping in mind that this before he remembered their fight). figuratively speaking, he could mean that he wants to save paul from being forgotten and being lost to time, to preserve his memory and, in turn, uphold meaning to paul’s life as something inhuman.

there’s also this whole section that describes arthur sort of feeling as if everything they (arthur and paul) went through was merely one sided because paul, in his eyes, had betrayed him and (quite literally) stabbed him in the back

"…I thought maybe that way I'd start to like myself as a person—me, a little pattern without a body of my own."

this quote from chuuya is so good and it carries so much impact, it just hit me pretty hard

bonus shoutout to dazai being just amazed by chuuya and standing there, staring like an idiot

[wizardfrog69]

Hi hi! can i request for bsd men x reader who is a doctor and have the ability like machi from hxh?

Thank you for the request!

'•.¸♡ doctor ♡¸.•'

Doctor reader

Fluff

Masterlist

Enjoy!

Feat. Fukuzawa, Atsushi, Kunikida, Dazai, Katai, Mori, Ace, Rimbaud, Akutagawa, Hirotsu, Kajii, Oda, Ango, Fitzgerald, Nathaniel, Fyodor

Yukichi Fukuzawa:

He finds your ability very useful and will employ you if you already aren't an employee.

He will be as careful as always, not putting himself in harm's way, but if he does get a limb chopped off by accident he will come straight to you.

Your thread is useful for combat and traps, which is something he takes into consideration when planning out his schemes.

You and Yosano often work together.

If you don't want to leave your job, he will understand and not force you out of your work.

Atsushi Nakajima:

This man's limbs grow back like nothing happened, so your ability is useless/j

If he gets hurt during a mission, he would go straight to you to take care of him.

He's way too shy to admit it, but he really likes it when you take care of him as no one ever did, and he was forced to look after himself, it's nice to have a break from worrying about yourself.

Make him a ball of thread to play with (like a cat), and he'll be very happy and entertained for some time.

Doppo Kunikida:

He also thinks your ability is quite useful, and despite how much he does not want you involved in any missions, your threads can be useful.

If you do not work in the ada, Kunikida would often visit you after work, if you aren't busy.

He doesn't really want to visit you when he's injured so as not to worry you and cause you additional work.

If you do end up taking care of him, he will be very pleased and find comfort in your soothing touch.

Osamu Dazai:

He takes your ability to his advantage.

He may become a bit more careless (as if he isn't already) and put himself in harms way more, just to see your worried face and for you to care for him. At least that's what he claims.

He does always love it when you care for him, even if it's putting a plaster on a scratch on his face, which he obtained by "falling."

Katai tayama:

Since he never leaves his house, you can tend to him whenever you need to.

Katai doesn't get injured a lot, so you don't have to worry about him.

Ogai Mori:

Mori, being a doctor himself, obviously does not need any help regarding himself, but it would be useful to have another medic in the mafia.

Your ability can also be useful in combat, so Mori wastes no time trying to convince you to join the mafia. You probably don't have a choice since he's the leader, and it would be quite difficult to be with the leader of a mafia without being a part of it.

A new torture method is now being used in the mafia, cutting somebody's limbs off :)

Ace:

This little prick would put one of his collars around your neck, and you would be his personal doctor, tending to all of his wounds and stuff.

Don't worry, he won't exchange you for gems. You are just too valuable for that.

Arthur Rimbaud:

Maybe you could finally figure out why he's so cold all the time.

If you two are together, you probably work in the mafia, or the other place he's from.

He admires the work you do, human life (or any life really) is important, and you should receive the respect and loyalty it deserves.

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa:

He could care less about your occupation unless it benefits him, and in this case, it does.

You would often help him with his wounds and coughing, reminding him to eat and drink, etc.

Your threads are quite useful to him, and he could strategize your ability into something.

Ryūrō Hirotsu:

What a silly old man.

You could be his personal nurse instead of sending him to a nursing home.

Motojiro Kajii:

Tbh, I'm surprised he isn't dead, ik he doesn't get hurt by his bombs but like still

He would always come home with some sort of scratches, which you will place a little lemon themed plaster on.

Also, you call him a mad scientist, and it was probably his idea.

Sakunosuke Oda:

Finally, someone norm- oh wait, he's a skeleton. Ig you'll have to help him not be dead.

You would always have plasters on you with an animal print or something on them, usually for the kids Oda takes care of, but it wouldn't hurt to help someone else out who needs one.

Oda loves what you do and wishes to help you when you come home tired from a long day at the hospital.

The kids Oda takes care of do get sick from time to time, so you will end up getting them to feel better.

Hey, maybe you could stich the kids back together after the little explosion? Pretty please????

Ango Sakaguchi:

He's too tired to realise his arms have fallen off.

He would get sick from the sleepless nights, and you'd demand him to stay home, but he would go to work anyway.

Ango respects your profession greatly and would never dream of getting in the way of your work.

He understands all too well how work can deprive you of everything, so he doesn't really ask you of anything.

Francis Scott Fitzgerald:

You are working in his team of Americans (ew)

/j I just don't think the food in America should be eaten.

Anyways.

You will be the doctor of the group, taking care of anyone who is ill.

He will find your ability useful and will certainly take it to his advantage, money is after all (one of) the most important things in this world and Fitzgerald will get it any means necessary, unless that means hurting you (or himself).

He cares about his family, so he doesn't wish for you to die :)

Nathaniel Hawthrone:

I'm surprised he isn't blaming the devil for everything tbh.

He can use this blood as thread so you can go away now. Your ability is not useful/j

Its great that you want to save people! (Or the children of God, I forgot how religious he is).

He can help by praying for you and your patients. that's it. God is the best doctor, after all.

He doesn't typically cut off his limbs whilst in battle, but if he does, he knows you will always be there to help him if he needs it.

Fyodor Dostoevsky:

Your ability is useful to Fyodor and his gang of rats. You can stich limbs back on, and the nervous system will reattach itself like nothing happened, brilliant!

Fyodor claims he doesn't need a doctor or to be taken care of. In truth, he does, but he fails to admit it, fearing he may appear weak or dependent on other people. His feelings don't stop him from making you the doctor of a bunch of rats.

You may not be a vet, but it doesn't hurt to try!

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

I'm sorry I couldn't include everyone. It would have taken too long, and u would just be repeating myself, even though I'm already doing so here.

Happy pride month, everyone! So many people have come so far to allow us to be ourselves. It may still be difficult, but that is why we need to celebrate everyone!

I was recently binge watching some shows, so I added some more to the fandoms I write for if anyone is interested. To find the list, go to the masterlist -> the bottom of the post -> press 'Fandoms I write for, rules & regulations♡'

Have a wonderful day/night and enjoy pride month!

-love, Az

[yuugen-benni]

Port Mafia members and their songs !

ADA version - DOA version - The Flags version

Chuuya: (Arabahaki's reference)

''I can't escape this hell So many times I've tried But I'm still caged inside Somebody get me through this nightmare I can't control myself So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one would ever change this animal I have become'' - Animal I have become by Three Days Grace

Paul Verlaine: (It's funny and sad to think that I chose this song thinking about the story between Rimbaud and Verlaine IRL)

''I'm sorry that I did this The blood is on my hands I stare at my reflection I don't know who I am Practice my confession In case I take the stand I'll say I learned my lesson I'll be a better man'' - If I killed someone for you by Alec Benjamin

Randou Rimbaud: (I would only put songs that are originally in English, but this song suits him a lot)

''And at every step I intertwine anger and reason Disillusionment, you brought it to my hand And it even burned But I'm always wearing a scarf to hide from this cold And a glove on my hand to hide from the cold What does your heart do'' - Cachecol by Kamaitachi

Akutagawa:

''Only care about myself 'Cause everyone's trying to hurt me Just leave me alone Just leave me alone Just leave me alone I just wanna be alone'' - Jealous by Eyedress

Higuchi:

''And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved'' - Me and My husband by Mitski

Tachihara:

''Bored, stoned, sitting in your basement All alone, cause your little conversations Got around, now look at what we all found out (look at what we, look at what we all found out) You have got a set of loose lips, twisting stories All because you're jealous Now I know exactly what you're all about And this is what you're all about Girl, you're such a backstabber'' - Backstabber by Kesha

Hirotsu:

''Old man, look at my life I'm a lot like you were Old man, look at my life Twenty four and there's so much more Live alone in a paradise That makes me think of two'' - Old man by Neil Young

BONUS:

Ango Sakaguchi: (I just could think about his special ability)

''Those thoughts of past lovers, they'll always haunt me I wish I could believe you'd never wrong me Then will you remember me in the same way as I remember you? Baby, we built this house on memories Take my picture now, shake it 'til you see it And when your fantasies become your legacy Promise me a place in your house of memories'' - House of memories by Panic! at disco

[missy-0-piink]

Omg punishing Rimbaud by stripping him naked tying him down while you push a cold glass buttplug into him. Lick the tip of his dick or his nipples while you have ice cubes in your mouth. Pls I live for temp play with Rimbaud <3 <3

Stop omg-

Ffffuck

I just know that rimbaud would get so high pitched and breathy when you do this- his body jolting each time you flick a cube over his nipples or tip, no matter how much he expects it.

And it’s such a beautiful sight too, his body shivering with both arousal and cold, goose flesh visible on his skin. He hides the bottom half of his face in his scarf- the only thing he’s wearing, his face and chest absolutely flushed red, despite his sniffling and teary eyes pleading with you to stop.

He sobs- practically screams when you press the edge of the IceCube into his slit, And when you spit the Ice cube into your hands while letting your tongue warm up, he doesn’t even know what’s coming-

Well, I mean, he is, after you replace the chilly cube with your hot mouth instead

[downbad4fyodor]

Pairing: Arthur Rimbaud x Fem!reader word count: 551 summary: You and Rimbaud went outside to build a snowman, despite the cold temperature warnings: none Tag list: @getousrep

Want more Fics for the Holidays?

On a frigid winter morning, the air was crisp with the promise of snowflakes dancing from the sky. You and Rimbaud decided to embrace the wintry chill and engage in a quintessential activity: building a snowman.

The world outside was blanketed in pristine white, a canvas awaiting your creative touch. Rimbaud, bundled up in layers, his demeanor as tranquil as ever, reluctantly stepped into the cold with you. His breath formed misty clouds in the frosty air as he surveyed the snow-covered landscape.

As you both ventured into the snowy expanse, the muted sunlight filtering through the cloud-laden sky cast a soft glow on the winter wonderland. Rimbaud's calm presence seemed to resonate with the serene quietude of the snowy surroundings.

Finding the perfect spot, you and Rimbaud began crafting the base of your snowman. The snow, powdery and glistening, yielded easily to your hands as you packed it into a sturdy foundation. Rimbaud, his movements deliberate and unhurried, assisted with a gentle touch, his chilled fingers surprisingly adept at shaping the frosty form.

Conversation between you two flowed like a gentle stream, punctuated by the rhythmic sounds of snow compacting beneath your hands. Rimbaud, normally a man of few words, opened up about his fondness for the tranquility that winter brought. His voice, accompanied by the occasional sound of crunching snow, created a soothing melody in the wintry air.

As the snowman's midsection took shape, Rimbaud suggested adding a touch of whimsy. His idea was to use twigs for arms, giving the snowman a natural, rustic charm. With meticulous precision, he arranged the twigs, creating an illusion of movement frozen in time. The snowman, now adorned with a minimalist touch, seemed to exude Rimbaud's understated elegance.

With the final layer of snow, the snowman stood proudly in the winter landscape, a testament to your collaborative effort. Rimbaud, though perpetually cold, seemed warmed by the accomplishment, a faint smile gracing his usually tranquil features.

As you stood back to admire your creation, Rimbaud suggested adding a personal touch to the snowman's countenance. He carefully selected small stones and fashioned a pair of eyes that seemed to gaze thoughtfully into the distance. A tiny twig served as the snowman's mouth, and Rimbaud, in an unexpected burst of playfulness, sculpted a mischievous tilt to the snowman's snowy hat.

Completing the snowman felt like a triumph, a shared venture against the winter chill. Rimbaud's mellow demeanor had found a harmonious counterpart in the whimsical creation that now stood in the snowy landscape. The wintry scene, crafted with care and shared moments, embodied the essence of a serene winter day.

Rimbaud, though typically reserved, expressed his contentment with a rare, genuine smile. The cold that usually clung to him seemed momentarily thawed by the warmth of your shared endeavor. As you both retreated from the wintry tableau, leaving the snowman to guard the snowy expanse, Rimbaud's hand found yours, the chill now a testament to the winter's embrace.

The two of you walked back through the snow-covered landscape, leaving behind the whimsical creation that stood as a testament to your wintry camaraderie. The mellow tranquility of Rimbaud and the playful touch of the snowman seemed to merge into a seamless harmony, encapsulating the magic of a cold winter day spent building memories amidst the snowflakes.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

We will protect you. Part II

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: New information was discovered. Natsume Soseki and Karl take first step to insuring your safety.

Meanwhile, you cuddle with Paul Verlaine and Artur Rimbaud.

Warning: OOC. Stalking. People misunderstood Reader's relationship with BSD Cast. English is my second language.

Part I

Part III

____

It was late, but no one in your house were asleep.

While Ranpo, Kunikida, Yosano and Dazai were busy interrogating the robber, the rest of you searched through the house one more time to make sure, that Stalker didn't steal anything and didn't put any cameras into the house.

Thankfully, there weren't any.

Then you took a good look at your clothes and underwear, that Stalker messed up.

That's where Ango's ability came in handy. He read walls' memories.

According to them, some figure, dressed in black with a mask on their head, simply threw your clothes on the floor, and, after taking the drawer with your underwear from the desk, pour red paint on it and threw it on the floor.

Just three or four times in a washing machine and your clothes will be fine to wear.

Everyone gathered in the common room. They were in groups, discussing, what should they do with Stalker. You were waiting for the washing machine to turn off.

In an hour, Ranpo, Yosano, Dazai and Kunikida finished the interrogation.

Dazai stand in the middle of the room. His brown eyes shined.

"Interrogation was a success. And we get some information about Stalker."

________

"So... Someone paid to this man, so he can steal my phone?" You asked, while sitting between Verlaine and Rimbaud.

Dazai nodded.

"Yup. And, apparently, it was our Stalker. According to what Ango saw and what robber told us, it was the same person. And I am pretty sure, that our robber was honest, while describing them. Moreover..."

Dazai narrowed his eyes.

"Robber was instructed not to hurt you. Because, as Stalker said themselves, 'I will punish them myself. For being a wanton person who flaunted their body about as a kept person."

The room was deadly silent. You looked around. You close your eyes. Then you spoke.

"At first, I thought, that Stalker was not from the city and could stalk me only during Charity Fair. Now, there is a chance that they are from here and stalk me during Charity Fair for some different reason. That, or our Stalker have an accomplice from my university... At least, that explains the nickname "

Yosano stepped forward.

"Wait, [Y/N], don't tell me..."

You nodded.

"Not to face. But, I have heard the rumors and whispers."

Silence. If someone dropped a pin, people will turn around, started by loud noise.

You noticed, that Verlaine and Rimbaud looked ready to marched to your university and destroyed it. You were sure, that others were having similar thoughts.

You quickly stand up and raise both hands.

"They are just talking. Bark and no bite. I soon will finish the university and won't interact with them. It's not important right now. Right now, we have one important thing to do."

You cleared your throat and continue.

"As long as you don't kill anyone, you can deal with the Stalker as you want."

It seems, your words rise others' spirits. Soon everyone star whispering to each other, discussing, what they should do next.

You heard, that Arthur and Paul were talking about rooms, for some reason. Their voices were hushed, so you can't make out all of their words.

You yawn. It was a crazy day. You raise your voice again.

"Let's discuss our plans tomorrow. It's late, let's get some sleep."

Before you can turn around and walk outside the room, you felt, how someone took you by the elbow.

Paul Verlaine led you after him. Arthur Rimbaud was following after you two.

"Stay in my room tonight. You will be safe from the Stalker. Just in case the Stalker decide to foolishly strike again tonight. Arthur and I will chase him off."

Arthur reassuringly pet your shoulder.

"Don't worry, [Y/N]. You will be protected. By the way..." Arthur kissed your head. "The comments that this idiots are spitting. They aren't true, they not important. But, your comfort is important. Please, if someone tried to harras you because of the way you living... Tell us. We will help you. We will support you."

You stay quiet for a second. Then you smiled.

"Thank you. Can we cuddle tonight?"

Paul and Arthur chuckled.

"With me? Or with Arthur?"

You chuckled in return.

"In a middle of cuddle sandwich, of course."

Paul glance at you.

"With pats and scratches?"

You nodded. The perfect night awaits you.

________

The rest of the night was quiet.

You slept in Verlaine's bed. Paul's right arm was around your midsection, with his left arm he was playing with your hair. His stomach was pressed against your lower back and one leg was inserted between your knees. Paul was nuzzling your ear. You feel his soft breath on your skin.

Arthur bury his face into your neck. With one hand he was cupping your cheek, with the second hand he was petting your neck.

You feel safe and comfy. Familiar warmth were surrounding you.

Finally, for the last four years, you were feeling safe during Charity Fair.

This time, everything is going to be alright.

_____

Later that night, Natsume Soseki left the house in his cat form. Karl follows after him.

_____

This man is nowhere to be found.

Did he steal [Y/N]'s phone and ran with it?

I will find him.

But first... I will make sure, that [Y/N] take the message. They should stop staying with this people. They must become pure again.

They.... AH! What the hell?! Where did this cat come from? Go away, stop trying to scratch my legs!

No! Not my nose!

Stop biting!

Bad cat! Bad cat!

Get off my head!

AH! THE RACCOON IS TRYING TO BITE MY FEET!

PEST CONTROL!

________

For three hours a certain Calico cat and raccoon were yowling, hissing, scratching and biting a masked figure, dressed in black.

Natsume and Karl were hot on their tail. They only calmed down, when the sun start risen.

At that point, the Stalker was stuck on a tree, with Natsume scratching them and Karl growling on them from the ground. Finally, Stalker slipped and fell from the tree

They were alive, but, they will get a bump. And, perhaps, a mild concussion.

Natsume, in his human form, jumped from the tree down.

He looked at Karl.

"Mind to find me a fitting dumpster?"

Karl purred in agreement.

______

Stalker were fond in a few hours by garbage truck driver.

Unfortunately, for Stalker, they were thrown in the truck to the collected garbage, before they were spotted. Even worse, right before that, a garbage truck driver just collected garbage from the fruit shop. That disposed of some rotten durian fruits.

Stalker were thrown right in the pile of rotten durian.

The next two days, Stalker spent in a bathtub, trying to get rid of the horrible smell.

________

For you, two days passed in a blur. Every time you had to go outside, you didn't feel anyone's gaze on you. You tried to ask if others had something to do with it. Everyone was quiet about that, but Natsume and Karl do looked proud of themselves.

These two days were full of preparation for the Charity Fair.

And for the mission, 'Teach a lesson to the Stalker'.

According to the plan, every day for eight days, one group of BSD Characters will stay in or near the café, so they can chase Stalker off, if they appeared.

You strengthen up your café uniform. You glance at Calico cat. Natsume let you put a bow on him.

Natsume himself insisted on accompanying you for the next eight days. You actually managed to convince café manager to let Natsume stay with you.

Because people will buy anything, if they saw a cute cat.

For the next few days, Natsume will pretend to be Café lucky charm. This way he could always be with you and protect you, if you and BSD Cast got separated.

Natsume... Or Mii-chan meowed and jumped on your shoulders. You scratch behind his ears.

Time for the show. The next eight days will be eventful.

[nightsadness]

Hi! I thought I'd take applications. Call me "Undertaker" (pronouns she/her) I'm 19 years old and I'm not a native English speaker, but I'm slowly learning , so far my level is A2.

I write: angst, fluff, yandere, headcanons, reactions, romance

I might write: smut, NSFW.

I don't write: yaoi, yuri, pedophilia, plots based on real murders, racism, excessive violence, coprophilia, incest.

Mortal Kombat

Bungo stray dogs

That's not my Neighbor

Mortal Kombat:

Sub-Zero (Noob Saibot/Kuai Liang/Bi-Han), Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi), Erron Black, Kabal, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Liu Kang, Reptile, Shang Tsung, Kung Lao, Smoke, Night wolf, Rain, Fujin

Bungo Stray Dogs

Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Ranpo Edogawa, Mori Ogai, Kenji Miyazava, Rando (Arthur Rimbaud), Saigiku Jōno, Edgar Allan Poe, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, Sigma

That's not my neighbor:

Francis Mosses, Steven Rudboys, Angus Ciprianni, Izaack Gauss.

I also write for absolutely any female characters x fem!readers (any relationship BUT NOT YURI!!!!).

[diagonal-queen]

𝐁𝐒𝐃 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

🌼 = Fluff 🔞 = Smut ⛓ = Dark content 💔 = Angst 🥀 = Hurt/Comfort 🤕 = Whump 🔷 = Other

Armed Detective Agency:

↪ Atsushi Nakajima

↪ Osamu Dazai

That Place (Dazai x gn!Reader) 💔

↪ Doppo Kunikida

Two of Two Kinds (Kunikida x fem!Reader) 🌼

↪ Kyouka Izumi

↪ Ranpo Edogawa

↪ Akiko Yosano

↪ Kenji Miyazawa

↪ Yukichi Fukuzawa

Port Mafia:

↪ Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

↪ Chuuya Nakahara

His New Trainee (Chuuya x fem!Reader) 🔷

Welcome Gift (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼

The Man and the Puppies (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼

Mutually Beneficial Transaction (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼

On the Verge (Chuuya x fem!Reader) 🤕

Calmer Waters (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🥀

Star-Crossed (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼

Rockstar Chuuya (Chuuya x gn!Reader) 🌼🔞

↪ Michizou Tachihara

Random Tachihara Headcanons 🔷

michizou tachihara as your highschool boyfriend (Tachihara x gn!Reader) 🔷

Unspoken (Tachihara x gn!Reader) 🥀

↪ Gin Akutagawa

↪ Ichiyo Higuchi

↪ Kouyou Ozaki

Sakura Kisses (Kouyou x gn!Reader) 🌼

↪ Sakunosuke Oda

Decay of Angels:

↪ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Discipline (Fyodor x gn!Reader) ⛓

Tired Turtle Doves (Fyodor x gn!Reader x Mykola) 🌼

Dark Roses and Souls (Fyodor x Mykola) 🌼

↪ Mykola Hohol

nikolai x reader in the winter (Mykola x gn!Reader) 🌼

Tired Turtle Doves (Fyodor x gn!Reader x Mykola) 🌼

Dark Roses and Souls (Fyodor x Mykola) 🌼

↪ Sigma

Vanilla and Lavender (Sigma x gn!Reader) 🌼

The Other Perspective (Sigma x fem!Reader) 🌼

Home Is Where the Heart Is (Sigma x gn!Reader) 🥀

The Guild:

↪ Lucy Maud Montgomery

fluffy lucy headcanons (Lucy x gn!Reader) 🌼

↪ Edgar Allan Poe

↪ Mark Twain

Watermelon Cruiser (Mark x gn!Reader) 🔷

Hunting Dogs:

↪ Ouchi Fukuchi

↪ Saigiku Jouno

Jouno with a quiet and touchy S/O (Jouno x gn!Reader) 🌼

↪ Tecchou Suehiro

Lovesick Tecchou Headcanons (Tecchou x gn!Reader) 🌼⛓

↪ Teruko Okura

Other:

↪ Mushitarou Oguri

Secret Secret (Mushitarou x gn!Reader) 💔

↪ Paul Verlaine

The Moon and the Sea (Verlaine x Rimbaud) 🌼

↪ Arthur Rimbaud

The Moon and the Sea (Verlaine x Rimbaud) 🌼

Misc. Headcanons:

how i think bsd characters would hug: ada edition (ADA)

how i think bsd characters would hug: pm edition (PM)

Reader who sleeps with a tank top (Dazai, Ranpo, Chuuya)

Reader who sleeps in a nightgown (Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Mykola, Poe)

Being their Older Sibling (Kyouka, Kenji)

Reader who is flexible (Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor)

Helping to take care of a reader who struggles to eat (Atsushi, Dazai, Chuuya, Oda, Fyodor)

Reader who is flexible pt. 2 (Kunikida, Mykola, Sigma)

how i think bsd characters would hug: misc edition (Jouno, Tecchou, Sigma, Mushitarou)

They find out you're Dazai's sibling (Chuuya, Fyodor)

When they have a nightmare about you (Atsushi, Dazai, Chuuya, Tecchou)

When Reader flinches after they yell (Kunikida, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Chuuya, Poe)

An S/O who has their opposite personality (Fyodor, Mykola)

Reader being the "perfect" assistant (Kunikida, Chuuya)

When their S/O is a compulsive liar (Dazai, Ranpo, Yosano, Chuuya, Fyodor, Mykola)

Reader with trauma and trust issues (Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor)

When their daughter tells them she has a boyfriend (Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma)

An S/O who outsmarts them (Dazai, Fyodor)

Their first kiss with you (Atsushi, Oda, Lucy, Tecchou)

If the BSD boys were my coworkers (Atsushi, Dazai, Kunikida, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Chuuya, Poe, Steinbeck)

Them with a manipulative S/O (Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor)

Them with an S/O who meows (Ranpo, Chuuya, Jouno)

When you blow them a kiss (Tachihara, Tecchou)

S/O who hides under the bed (Dazai, Kunikida, Chuuya)

Rubber duckie, you're the one~ (Atsushi, Dazai, Ranpo, Chuuya, Mykola, Poe, Tecchou)

If the BSD girls were my coworkers (Kyouka, Yosano, Kouyou, Gin, Higuchi, Naomi, Lucy)

The Flags in Highschool (The Flags)

"Can't Sleep?" (Dazai, Kunikida, Fyodor)

"Men with Slutty Waists!" (Dazai, Chuuya)

Cuddling Headcanons (Tecchou, Jouno)

BSD boys with a self-sacrificing girlfriend (Fyodor, Poe, Ranpo, Jouno)

Teasing their crush (Tecchou, Tachihara, Dazai, Fyodor)

The ADA as your roommates (ADA)

Hunting Dogs Headcanons:

Hunting Dogs with an energetic S/O

Hunting Dogs with an S/O who eats ice

When their S/O feels inadequate

Hunting Dogs with a clumsy S/O

Hunting Dogs with a silent S/O

Hunting Dogs with your child

Hunting Dogs with a mean S/O

Obviously I will continue to update this list as I release new fics but it might take some time between each new fic and me updating this, sorry! Also if there's a character you like that I haven't put here, you can still send reqs for them!

[tiredlilguy]

Restless

a/n: hi hi. ^^ this was a small idea that I had and posted about a couple days ago. it's kind of inspired a little bit on how i've been feeling. enjoy! :D

pairing: Paul Verlaine (and a little bit of rimbaud) x GN!Musician!Reader cw: hurt/comfort, but with a little bit of sad ending (it's not too depressing desc: he'd do anything to make sure you were happy, as you were his reason for living.

“ You’re job here is done, you’re dismissed.”

Bowing down, Verlaine had taken off the hat that was on his head as he kneeled to his superior. Said superior seemed satisfied, letting out a small huff and waving the man off. The blonde stood up, walking out the door, leading with his chest confidently. As he walked by, those who were walking by half-bowed at him before getting out of his way.

An assassin was a strange job for someone who as so high-ranking in the Mafia, but it was what he was best at. It was one of the few things in this world that make his chest burn with some sort of feeling that he could not describe. Despite being offered better jobs with bigger pay, he only accepted the ones fit of an assassin: creating the name for him as the “King of Assassins”.

Though, that wasn’t the only thing that made his chest burn with such passion. It was often the reason he had walked home rather quickly. The reason that he tried to finish work on time or as efficiently as possible. It was the reason that he felt a warmth inside himself, something much more than what killing others could ever give him.

That reason was you.

You were a conductor and musician, but you weren't just like everyone else. You were rather popular in one of the most famous music halls in all of France. The music that you conducted made people feel things that they wouldn’t normally feel from the art form of music. Your work as a musician touched the lives of many: inspiring people, invoking those to fight for top chair in your orchestra, and had a mass group of people who wanted to learn from you. To put it short: you were an ambitious person, and about two years ago that struck something in Verlaine.

There was something in the way that you conducted others: the way you closed your eyes and almost controlled everybody in the room with such passion. He wanted to know what that was like… how to control others with such passion too. However, in the process of getting to know you, he fell in love and so did you. Though he didn’t know what love quite was, but for some reason that passion… the humanity that you were, he was willing to try love.

Oh the person that you were, not just simply an affirmation of his humanity, but in some way: a reason to live.

He had opened the door to your shared apartment to be met with giggling coming from your penthouse’s living room. Since moving in with him, he treated you rather lavishly: the penthouse was rather spacious. He made sure that you were happy and well-cared for when he wasn’t around, though despite being absent for most of the day, he always tried to make it home at a time when you were awake. There was enough room for you to work with an open studio space just for you that had held all of your instruments and piles of notebooks, sheet music, and music theory books. You had state of the art record players, and high end radios to play music to your hearts content. You were given luxury clothing, food, jewelry… anything you’d wanted, it was yours.

You often told him to stop buying you said gifts, as you could afford such things yourself. Though, despite you refusing, you were grateful. You never asked for much, but the money he received as a mafioso was of almost no value to him. What was of value to him was you, a precious diamond amongst the rocks that were society.

Walking over to the living room, he saw you laughing with someone who was sat across from you. That person was his work partner: Arthur Rimbaud. Often times, Rimbaud offered you company when he wasn’t around. Though, Verlaine hadn’t seemed to mind, as you had grown fond to his partner in some sort of way. Rimbaud was a quiet and gentle kind of person as well, something that Verlaine had wanted to learn from him.

Currently, you were leaning over a cello that’d you’d brought outside of your studio room, a bow in your other hand as you were smiling and talking to his partner. You were wearing one of his white button downs (one that he usually never wore because white shirts had stained easily). It wasn’t anything special, and if anything he’d pretty much forgotten where he’d gotten it from. Though despite the luxury shirts that you could be wearing, you always insisted on wearing that when you were comfortable and at home. The laughs that came out of you sounded like music to his ears, the smile on your face squeezing a feeling within himself.

He cleared his throat, bringing your attention and Rimbaud’s on him.

“ Mon amour…  I’ve returned,” he said, moving to take his white gloves off. You stood up, leaning the cello on your chair. As your feet padded along the floor he was not expecting for you to wrap your arms around him, placing your head on his chest. Despite knowing you from the inside out, he almost never knew what to expect from you. The little things you did almost flustered him.

“ I’m glad your home, Paul,” you looked up at him with a smile. He looked down, feeling that swell within his chest again. You didn’t let go, enjoying the warmth that was him. He placed his hand over your head, ruffling your hair a little bit. His other arm gently wrapped around your waist, pulling your closer. He looked to the side, trying to avoid revealing his smile to his partner that was looking over at the scene in front of him.

“ I suppose that’s my time to leave,” Rimbaud spoke up, interrupting the scene gently. He shivered slightly,” Hah… so cold…”

You frowned, turning slightly with Paul still in your hold,” Aw… couldn’t you stay just to warm up for a moment?”

“ It’s no use, he’s always cold,” your lover responded.

“ Hm…,” you replied, finally letting go of your lover, placing your hands on your hips.

Noticing that you hadn’t wanted him to leave just yet, Rimbaud had offered something,” How about you play that song that you’d shown me earlier? Have it played it for Verlaine, yet?”

“ No actually,” your eyes lit up, and Verlaine had silently thanked his partner for cheering you up.

Verlaine had taken off his coat, placing it down on the couch and slouching slightly. A content smile was on his face as he watched you run to the cello, and positioning it correctly over your shoulder.

“ Are you ready to hear it now, Paul?”

“ Of course, my dear.”

…

Years had passed, and the nights had only seemed to get colder to you.

Years had passed when you had felt a hole in your heart open slightly.

Years had passed and your dear friend, and Verlaine’s partner had died.

You were unaware of the details as to why they had both been in Japan on a job, or what had even happened. Despite that, you trusted Verlaine, your lover… perhaps not knowing what was happening in the Mafia was for your own safety. Though to what you were aware of, you were just told that you could no longer see Rimbaud. Then when you could no longer see him, you had been told that he died shortly after.

The pieces that you had created were melancholy these days. People had assumed you were going through some sort of depression. Deadlines came in a lot faster for you, as you made more and more to satisfy the people. Though, you knew that those people had only wanted to feed off of your sadness: to hear it so they could observe it, monetize it, discuss it… You couldn’t stop this pain leaking into your own passion either, it had come into your art whether you wanted it to be there or not. You had stripped yourself of your own privacy in the notes that you wrote into sheet music, and yet people loved it. You wanted nothing more than to throw it in the trash and hide yourself away until people forgot about you. People fed off of your art, ate it like parasites to a dying bird. You only fed them more, despite feeling as though the works that you’d made were your worst yet.

Yet as you’d made this music for the people, you were desperate.

Desperate to make something beautiful, something that could bring you back to that moment.

Though, your shaky hands could only create music that was asking for help.

At the same time though, you never left your spot in the studio. You were always playing and there was almost nothing that could drag you out of that room.

Well… except for one.

…

Tonight, you were playing your cello in the living room.

Perhaps playing somewhere where the memories hurt the most could wring something out of you.

As you were playing though, you only shivered as tears fell down your face and onto the floor.

Yet you still played… despite your arms getting sore and your wrists and fingers hurting. You played.

There was no one there that could take you away from this pain… the loss of someone who made sure you were never lonely. Someone who was gentle and kind… someone you could trust and call a friend. He was gone now though.

You had originally thought you were alone…

“ Darling, I’m home.”

but that was until you heard a voice call out to you in concern.

“ (Y/N)…?”

You continued to play, your grip tightening on the bow as you strung notes out. Footsteps were heard, coming from the entrance. You ignored them, feeling the cold of the living room touch your skin.

It was empty.

So empty…

Until warm hands were gently placed on your forearms. Verlaine had discarded his gloves, you could feel the warmth in his hands as he tried to ground you.

“ Shh, shh, shh…,” he gently hushed you, leaning down behind your with his lips to your ear,” It’s ok, mon chérie… Please don’t cry, my sweet.”

You were no longer playing, as you put down your bow from the cello. You leaned into him, as you felt more tears roll down. His hands caressed your forearms, gently stopping and applying pressure by squeezing to calm you down. You were still crying, but his actions were slightly calming you down.

Eventually his hands reached down to your hands that were still holding onto the fingerboard of your cello and the bow,” Let go for me, my dear… You’re ok.”

“ I can’t…,” you whimpered, sobbing a little louder,” I can’t let go… I don’t want to stop… Please.”

“ You have to let go for me… please…?,” he silently begged, closing his eyes as he left a gentle kiss behind your ear. He gently pried at the grip on your hands.

“ I can’t stop now… I have to make something worth this time…,” you cried on,” I can’t stop….”

“ Shh… Allow me to then…,” Verlaine’s sultry voice only hushed you as he eventually loosened your grip on the instrument in your hands. As you let him loosen your grip, you were slowly calming down, though the tears never stopped. Eventually your hands were off the cello, the bow was on the ground and Verlaine had placed the cello to the side, away from your sight.

He was now in front of you, kneeling down with a slight frown on his face. You were looking down at your hands, as you had realized they were slightly more rough and calloused than they used to be… You were neglecting yourself.

“ (Y/N)…,” Verlaine’s hand gently lifted your chin so that you were looking up at him. You were still trying to avoid his gaze as he wiped the remaining tears from your eyes with both of his hands.

“ Look at me, darling,” he gently asked. You complied, not wanting to upset him even further. His thumbs caressed your face,” What ever can I do to stop you from crying… hm?”

You had thought for a moment, placing your hands gently over his.

For someone who often struggled to believe he was human, he was awfully warm. It hadn’t mattered what season it was, he was always warm to you.

“ Stay. That will make me happy.”

He would do anything for you. Anything to make you happy, since you were now the only thing to prove the affirmation of his humanity.

Verlaine tried to stay, for you at least.

Though sometimes fate had other plans.

[ananiel]

So we talked about many difrent au's, did we not? But You know one that can't posibily fail us? One where You are like Howl from Howls moving castle.

Howl is a wizard known for his famous spells, strong magic, wit and for being well known in the ladies world

So what if You had his personality and overall magical qualities

A Christmas special

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

You were driving him mad with your personality that let's out so much but nothing at the same time.

He hated You so much he loved You. So much he grew obsessed with your very own being.

You were difrent, a witch of some sorts that made him so angry.

You were so arogant and pridefull, so ready to just flick your wrist and float away from him.

Clearly You knew he didn't have the very best intensions, but You never voiced it. It didn't seem like You treated him difrent from the others either. He could've sworn that You didn't know anything, but when a younger fan decided to come out to You, he saw the protective hand You put over the child when he came on sight.

You knew, You knew more about him then he could even comprehand You did, You could be a threat to his plans. In his eyes, You were an impure being that played with things God has forbiden humans from ever doing

He even went to confront You in that weird abomination You called Your castle. You let him in while working on God knows what and he got a look around... It doesn't seem that bad...

When he tried to argue, You gave back witty responses which annoyed him teribly but what caught his attention was an answear You gave about leaving soon to continue your search for someone You met in the past.

He was fuming, he put on a happy act that You didn't buy, but didn't care enough to question him either.

There's no way in hell he would ever let You leave him for another, no way in hell.

So he come up with a plan, he helped You find that person but in return You craft a ring that can block all magic for him.

Now, theoretically he did help You find them, but before You could run to them, he shot them, straight to the heart, the perfect shot.

You feel to your knees in anguish as You knew You couldn't do anything. He was phisically stronger and magic couldn't help You if he wore that ring.

The maniac crounched down next to You and took your hand in his while shussing your cries. He pulled out a ring that looked the same as the magic ring You crafted and put it on your finger before kissing your hand with a deranged smile

"You see my love? How pathetic they were? How foolish of You to try and find them when i am all You need, right in front of You"

[thelovelywriteress]

SOUL OR BODY?

─ Arthur Rimbaud (Leonardo DiCaprio)

────────────────────────────

────────────────────────────

Paul had leaned over the table that night, eyes glazed from too much absinthe, his words slurred, but his curiosity sharp as ever.

“So, Arthur,” Paul asked, a wicked grin playing on his lips, “you ever even seen her body? Your finance, I mean.” He chuckled darkly, half-mocking, half-goading, like he always did when he felt Arthur needed to be pushed.

Arthur, in his drunken haze, smiled back. A sadistic gleam flickered in his eyes, a reflection of the reckless man he had become. He tilted his head as if considering Paul’s question seriously.

“Seen her body, Paul?” Arthur mused, his voice low and taunting. “I’ve seen something more. Her true self—something more profound than the physical or sensual."

Paul stared at him, a bit stunned by the reply, and Arthur laughed—a cold, hollow sound—dismissing the moment with a wave of his hand.

But the memory that followed was no laughing matter.

Arthur had been at his desk, papers strewn around him in a mess of incoherent thoughts, words failing him for the first time in what felt like forever. Arthur had been at his desk, papers strewn around him in a mess of incoherent thoughts, words failing him for the first time in what felt like forever.

You noticed his confused rage while most of time you preferred to ignore his tactics, this time it looked he was affected internally.

You were concerned for him.

“Arthur,” you said, your voice steady but with an undercurrent of concern. “Are you okay?”

He snapped. It wasn’t like the other times when he would simply tease her, this was something deeper, more vicious, a reflection of the frustration burning inside him.

"Why do you care?" he snaps, throwing the quill down onto the desk. His voice is laced with irritation, his anger barely concealed. "You wouldn't understand. You never do."

Your eyes narrow slightly, but you didn't back away. "I’m trying to understand, Arthur. If you would just talk to me—"

"Talk?" He stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He paces, running a hand through his hair, as if the physical act might untangle the knot in his chest. "I can’t ‘talk.’ That’s the problem, isn’t it? I can’t say what I’m feeling, I can’t put it into words!" He gestures to the blank page, his voice rising with every word. "I can write about anything—love, lust, rebellion, chaos—but this—" He stops, his hands curling into fists. "This… whatever it is, this thing I feel, it slips away every time I try to grasp it. To understand materialistic or spiritualistic, what matters to me, what should matter to a human."

"Then find it now." You state as Arthur was suprised at your confidence. What makes you think you can help him to put those mysteriously feelings into words.

Before he could respond, you moved toward the bedroom, your footsteps light but deliberate. Without a word, you walked in, leaving the door slightly open as if daring him to follow.

Arthur, still reeling from his outburst, hesitated for a moment, but curiosity—and perhaps something else—compelled him forward. As he entered the room his eyes fall on the trail of clothes going further into room before they finally stop on your body that was still in the process of removing your tight clothing.

Your dress slipping off your shoulders, revealing the undergarments that still clung to you frame. You untied you hair, letting it fall loose around her as you made a eye contact with him. Your expression neutral, detached, as if this were nothing more than another intellectual exercise. You didn’t fully undress; a mere layer of fabric still clung to your body, enough to cover you, but not enough to hide the intimacy of the moment.

Arthur stood frozen in the doorway, caught off guard by your calm audacity. It looked like you were offering yourself—physically, yes—but there was something more, something deeper in your eyes. Something he had never understood before now.

You moved to the chaise longue, laying on it in a fancy position, your eyes never leaving his. “Write, Arthur,” you said softly. “Write whatever you feel right now.”

For once, Arthur didn’t argue. He didn’t mock or tease. He swallowed his nervousness and walked toward his desk, grabbed a pen, and sat down, staring at your figure in front of him.

Despite the suggestive nature of your actions, despite the vulnerability of your pose, all he could see—really see—was the bravery of your soul. The one who didn't even like breathing same air, was the one laying in front of him, giving him all sorts of freedom.

You had stripped yourself of more than clothes in that moment. You had laid bare your pride, your control, and your fear. And yet, there was no shame in your gaze, no fear of his judgment. You were telling him to see you, not as a body, not even as a muse, but as a human being—someone who stood on equal ground with him.

Arthur’s hand moved across the paper, but his mind wasn’t on your body. His thoughts weren’t on lust or desire. Instead, all he could feel was a deep admiration—admiration for the strength it took for you to reveal yourself to him like this, to offer him her vulnerability in a way that transcended the physical.

He wrote furiously, the words pouring out of him for the first time in days, though not in the way he had expected.

When he finally looked up from the paper, you were still watching him, your expression unreadable, but there was something softer in your eyes now.

"I think I am done." He state in a nervous voice as you just lay in more comfortable postion than previous one.

"So what do you choice right now? Soul or body?" You asked as Arthur feels the weight of both choices. Either way things will be different from now.

"Just that?" Paul questioned as he felt Arthur once again left him on cliffhanger. You both sure shared some physical moment after this, didn't you? Like how can a man let a chance like this go but knowing Arthur he knew conclusion was left for his imagination.

[mmbreceda]

❥ Sobre mi.

Soy Minerva (Ella-La), escribo desde hace tres años y espero mejorar desde ese entonces. Hablo español e ingles, mis textos son exclusivos del español. Mis autores favoritos son Sylvia Plath, Arthur Rimbaud y Camila Sosa Villada. Apenas hace poco me llego la nostalgia de regresar a los fanfics.

♡

Ahora soy mega obsesionada con los creepypastas, naruto, marble hornets y el padrino (combinacion rara) pero igual adoro Death note, evangelion y Devilman Crybaby. Mis peliculas favoritas son Gone girl, el eterno resplandor de una mente sin recuerdos y the secretary. Prefiero todo tipo de musica mi pick es el rock en español.

☭ Redes sociales.

Instagram:mbrecedaa Twitter:@thedefttonessong Wattpad:@krystalbae_1

✞ Contenido

Hago historias originales creadas y desarrolladas en su totalidad por mi cuenta, la mayoria de temas con los que me obsesiono de vez en cuando con un enfoque realista y medio tragico. En Fanfics me super vuelo y hago miles de headcanons y ocs me gusta darle mi perspectiva a cada proyecto mio, como un pequeño pedazo de mi mente lol.

Fanfics y one shots

Nsfw y Sfw

Escritos random - Poemas

Trigger Warning: Temas sensibles de los que escribo

(Siempre voy a incluir un TW si contiene algun contenido sensible)

4sesinat0

4bus0 de sustancias

TC4

Sucesos politicos

Bd$m

4bus0

!! De este ultimo quiero aclarar que detesto la romatizacion de temas sensibles en especial este, hago todo de la manera mas respetuosa y carente de morbo posible.

♡ Fandoms

Creepypasta - En su mayoria los clasicos del 2016 no se mucho de los actuales

Death note

Marble hornets

otros miles mas que puede que no mencione

No hago peticiones - No hago x reader

Esta de mas aclarar que no me agrada la gente extraña ni la quiero cerca de mi, a esto me refiero a ped0s, edgys o cualquiera que sea pedante y se crea interesante por gritarlo en internet, va igual para los que tienen nula comprension lectora y terminan romantizando estupideces

Lo siento por todas las faltas de ortografia hice todo muy rapido. Dicho todo lo que tenia que decir espero ser constante con esto y no caer en bloqueos creativos como buena procrastinadora. Eso es todo loool.

[wizardfrog69]

Port mafia

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Ōgai Mori ♱

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Ace ♱

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Chuuya Nakahara ♱

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Kōyō Ozaki ♱

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Arthur Rimbaud ♱

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Ryūnosuke Akutagawa ♱

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Ichiyō Higuchi

Comforting you after/during a sensory overload ♡❀

Crocheting/knitting hobby ♡❀

Halloween costumes♡❀

Happy Halloween♡❀

Christmas gifts♡❀

Love song♡❀

sacrifice ☆❀

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Ryūrō Hirotsu

Crocheting/knitting hobby ♡❀

Happy Halloween♡❀

Christmas gifts♡❀

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Gin Akutagawa ♱

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Elise (platonic) ♱

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Motojirō Kajii

Crocheting/knitting hobby ♡❀

Happy Halloween♡❀

Christmas gifts♡❀

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Sakunosuke Oda ♱