#bad its written bad.

[thedragonagelesbian]

im definitely NOT thinking about a fic where cyrus stays behind in the fade and anders and varric have to go rescue him, but if i WERE thinking about that fic and i HAD spent an inordinate amount of time dwelling on ‘here lies the abyss’, i just have to say: ..........................why is it written like that.

[sp0o0kylights]

Bullshit.

The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.

He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…

Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.

“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”

Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.

"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.

She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.

"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.

They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.

Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.

"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)

She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."

It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”

“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”

She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”

"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."

Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.

Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.

If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.

"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"

She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."

Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.

Or a different person entirely.

"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."

A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.

‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.

"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”

Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.

“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."

Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"

"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”

A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.

Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”

"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.

"I think so."

Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"

Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.

"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.

Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.

"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.

The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.

"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.

"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.

Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.

"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.

"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.

Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.

"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.

It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.

Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.

"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”

Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"

"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.

“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”

“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”

“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.

"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,

“It's not "

“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”

“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”

Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."

"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.

The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.

"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.

Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.

Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.

"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.

"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."

'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.

"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."

"You would cheer for me too?"

"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.

"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."

Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.

He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.

"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"

"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."

She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his

Munson, the ass, notices.

“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.

"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.

"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.

"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.

They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.

"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.

His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.

"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.

It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.

"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.

Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.

"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.

Steve gives him jazz hands in return.

"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.

It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.

It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)

"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."

Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."

It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.

"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.

Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.

Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.

"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.

"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."

He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.

Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.

She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"

"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.

Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.

That she wants to talk.

Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.

It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.

He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.

"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.

In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.

The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--

Except.

Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.

One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.

It's fine.

He's fine.

Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--

"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."

Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.

"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.

Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.

"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.

That too sharp smile is all for Steve.

He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.

He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.

He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.

Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.

Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.

'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.

Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.

Steve plants his feet anyway.

"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.

Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.

"You're full of shit."

Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.

Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.

It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.

Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'

Steve just glares him down.

The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.

"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.

"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.

The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.

Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.

"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"

Steve just scoffs.

"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"

Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.

"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.

"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.

She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."

Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"

It doesn't sound loving.

It sounds like a threat.

He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.

Eddie beats him there.

The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.

"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"

Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.

"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."

Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.

It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.

"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.

He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.

"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.

The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.

"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"

He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.

Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.

Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.

He refuses to put a name to it.

"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.

"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.

Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."

"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."

Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.

Prior to last year, he'd have been right.

Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.

Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.

Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.

"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.

"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.

Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.

"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.

Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.

"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.

"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.

"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.

Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.

Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.

The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.

Part Two

[bulbabutt]

you have to be honest with yourself, leo

every leo has insecurity issues, in this essay i will--

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | and the missing leo hug from this part

[panbotter]

Hey so in reference to my previous ask, can you do one were the reader is having trouble controlling their powers (you can decide those) and either Kurt or Erik comfort them after a bad day and end up confessing to the reader. You can ad smut if you want but if not that's totally fine too☺️.

Your Existence is Grand

Erik Lehnsherr x gn!reader

Erik notices you having a rough day with your powers and decides to shower you with praise.

(This is my first fanfic literally ever so feedback appreciated, but also... Sorry for any mistakes!!!!)

Trigger warnings: cursing, suggestive themes (I don't know what else to write here, pls let me know if there's anything else I should add!)

The air around me begins buzzing and crackling, becoming charged with electricity and I sigh, deeply frustrated before I reach for the metal doorknob in front of me and receive a shock so strong that all the muscles in my arm cramp up painfully. I curse under my breath, forcing my arm to bend and stretch the tense muscles as I walk into the lounge, getting a glimpse of the others outside. Some might say I’d been gifted with a particularly powerful mutation, that it made me strong and intimidating. That I am admired for it, as if it’s a blessing to be grateful for.

But in this god-forsaken world, all I could see was a curse that plagued my body. I never bothered to understand the science behind it, as much as others might have tried to explain it to me. Something about the electricity in my body behaving abnormally, affecting the air around me and in turn, other electronics or conductors of electricity, turning me into a walking hazard around power lines, or thunderstorms. Let's not even mention the sheer amount of electrical fires I’ve caused. Sure, it sounds cool. But the reality is basically hell.

One of the ‘best’ parts about my mutation is that it is terribly unstable, especially when you’re constantly surrounded by electricity no matter where you go. Everyone else who charges up some static then touches a piece of metal receives a little sting from a silly little shock. It might be a little funny or perhaps surprising! Maybe it happens when you touch fingers with someone else and you shock each other, what a cute moment!

Try getting fucking electrocuted every single time.

Nowhere near as cute, nor as fun.

Some days are worse than others and the more restless I become, the worse it is for me in the end. But unfortunately, I can’t lay in bed immobile for an entire day to lower the voltage my body is producing, resulting in my current conundrum. Avoiding the rest of the X-Men in order to avoid any potential accidents, especially with Jubilee. Fireworks and a highly-charged mutant body surrounded by a bunch of high-tech only spells out bad news. Luckily, it seems like most of them were outside on the basketball court. That’s what I thought, at least.

“I take it you’re having a bad voltage day?” the voice of none other than Magneto startles me out of my thinking. It’s been more than a few months of him living here with us, but his presence is still unexpected. I had a hard time training the knee-jerk defensive reaction out of my body for the first few days, my body becoming charged up so quickly that I wouldn’t even have the chance to blink before I shot a bolt of electricity at him.

He was quick to show that a little spark didn’t do much to him, given that he was essentially a walking magnetic field.

I turn to him, his large form standing at the entrance to the lounge, “What makes you say that?” I turn back to watch as Scott and Logan start another argument, their voices muffled by the glass.

“The air keeps crackling and I have a hard time believing there’s a storm inside the building” he approaches until he pauses at my side. I chuckle a little, giving a wince once I feel my sore muscles constrict. He turns to watch me.

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe Storm has had enough of those two at each other’s throats” I try to joke but my voice falters, as my heart begins to race again and the sound of the air buzzing around me becomes overwhelming. Tremors begin rippling across my muscles, a mixture of them cramping and relaxing too fast for me to keep up with. Losing the strength in my legs, I stretch a hand out toward the glass in front of me to hold myself up but I miss the glass by a couple inches. Erik’s hands are quick to grab onto my arms before pulling me into his chest, supporting my weight as the crackling noise fills my ears and I let out a pained shout. My body releases a strong burst of electricity, most of it absorbed by Erik’s magnetic field, whilst the rest causes the power in the building to go out. I pant loudly, trying to catch my breath, feeling like my heart might’ve stopped in the middle of that.

The lights flicker around us before the power in the school hums back to life. Erik’s hands are still around me, I realize before beginning to step away, but his hold on me tightens. He pulls me back against his chest and I try to fight back the heat that’s slowly creeping up to my face. This is a bit embarrassing. I’ll admit it, I had grown to like Erik in the time he’d been with us, not to mention I had quite a few run-ins with him before I ever joined the X-Men. He always seemed so… Powerful, he always felt safe to be around. As radical as the Professor may claim he is, he always seemed… Right. You could hear the passion in his voice when he spoke of mutantkind and it made you want to side with him, to be loyal and to follow him to the ends of the Earth.

He had a powerful presence, and as I am now discovering, a powerful touch. One of the very few people who could come near me without fear of being electrocuted. My muscles had begun to twitch in the aftermath of the shock. These are the unfortunate moments where I wish I could be rid of my mutation. I could barely hold myself up and here I was in Erik’s arms.

“You should be resting” his voice was stern, but there was a hint of concern in there. I raise my gaze to meet his, feeling a bit of shame.

“I can’t just lay in bed all day, the world is still turning, there’s things to do…” I muttered.

“Precisely, the world is still turning and it will still continue to turn if you are at rest. You, on the other hand, are not a planet and you need to care for yourself”

I stare into his eyes, feeling them pierce through my soul. He always seemed to be right about everything… I chuckle under my breath as I regain some strength in my legs, straightening back up.

“I’m sure you must be tired of having to run after all of us like a babysitter” I joke as his arms come to rest on my shoulders once I’m stable on my feet.

A glint crosses his eyes, “I do wonder how Charles managed, and then I remember he’s a telepath, so it must’ve been quite easy for him” he replies with a smirk gracing his face that makes me laugh a little.

“He still struggled, you shouldn’t compare yourself to the Professor”

He begins to lead me toward the couch behind us, helping me take a seat before joining me. I still feel a hot streak of shame across my stomach, having him help me. Burdening him.

“Sorry, by the way… You’re right, I should be a little more considerate of others” I mutter.

Erik turns to look at me as I avoid making eye contact, “I don’t believe those were my words…” his hand reaches out toward my chin, gently turning my head to face him, “I only ask of you to rest and care for yourself, forget what the others may think”

I blinked up at him, “The Professor always wanted me to push past my limits, so that I can perhaps get stronger… Control my powers better”

“In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to restrict your abilities, you could rule this planet with a wave of your hand, what you have is something to be proud of, not ashamed” he places his hand against my cheek and I find myself leaning against his warm touch, “Your mutation is a blessing, not a curse”

I scoff, “Sure doesn’t feel that way, I can’t even live among humans without shutting down an entire city’s power”

“Your powers shouldn’t be hidden, controlled, or restricted for the sake of humanity” he says the word with disdain, “but those are my beliefs, your existence is grand mein liebling”

My heart thumps against my chest loudly at his words. It feels… Intimate. How could he speak such high praise toward me?

“I see you hurt and I watch as you restrain yourself around others, as your mutation basically eats your body alive and it pains me…” his eyes gaze across my face, pausing at my lips before trailing back up to my eyes, “It pains me that you live in a world where you feel you cannot rest, where you feel you must hide the power within you”

“Erik…” I whisper, almost afraid to shatter the moment between us, “What are you… What are you saying…?” I peer into his eyes, seeing something brewing behind his gaze. Could it be possible that he’s… No, there’s no way.

“What do you believe I’m saying?” he whispers softly, leaning in toward me. I jump as a few sparks fly out from where he has his hand on my cheek. I can’t help my eyes dropping to his lips before rising back up to his eyes.

I feel the tension rise and in a desperate attempt to avoid it, I joke, “If I was delusional, I might think you’re trying to confess to me right now” I laugh a little to dispel the tension. His gaze was still just as intense so I failed, but I tried my best.

A smile graced his features, “Yes… Perhaps if you were delusional, you might see that I am actually confessing my feelings for you right now” he says it so casually I almost think he’s playing along with my joke, but as my eyes widen, so does his smile.

“Are you…?” my voice wavers a little. I feel my heart drop, realizing he’s probably joking with me. I turn away from his hand, lightly pushing his chest to put distance between us.

“Is this some sort of joke? Come on, Erik… You know that’s… It’s unrealistic” I mutter, a man like him would never love someone like me, that’s not how it works… Maybe in the movies, or in a fairytale perhaps.

“Mein liebling, perhaps I haven’t been clear enough with you” he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in close, closer than before, “do you prefer a visual demonstration instead? I can give you that, you only need to ask” he smiles before slowly leaning in, giving me enough time to back out if I wished, but I find myself leaning in, eager to feel his lips against mine.

As soon as our lips locked together, sealed at last, a burst of electric sparks flew out from our lips and I giggled into the kiss. I mean, how ironic is that? I felt real, literal sparks and fireworks from the kiss and it made my lips tingly. Erik smiles into the kiss before deepening it, his hand rising up toward my hair while the other trailed down my back and I found myself desperate to be closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, clumsily climbing over to sit on his lap. We part right as I begin losing my breath and he trails a burning, tingly trail of kisses down my jaw before he stops by my ear.

With a whisper that blew across the nape of my neck, “I see more than just greatness in you, so much more…” The words are charged with intention, passion, and sincerity. I shudder as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I bite back a moan as he continues kissing down my neck. I take a sharp breath in as he begins sucking on a tender spot before I suddenly realize what we’re doing…

Where we’re doing it.

I turn slightly to peek at the windows, making sure the others are still thoroughly distracted with playing before I feel Erik bite my skin and a moan breaks out, “Wait! Erik… We’re… In the lounge…”

He lifts his head, and the dark look in his blue eyes makes me clench my legs in anticipation, “We’ll just have to be fast… And quiet… Can you do that?” He taunts me with a question I don’t even get the chance to answer before he lays me down on the couch, climbing over me, “I’m just helping you relax, that’s not a sin, is it?” He looks down at me with a hungry gaze and I feel my cheeks burn.

“I guess not”

“Show me what else you can do with these sparks of yours”

[leafuxxtea]

tfw u had an unsuccessful 12 hours detective shift going after a secret band of masked hooligans and their leader is right in front of you, spitting in ur coffee before serving it to u

(soooo,,,I've been playing p5 recently,,, it's an experience fr fr)

[arcanegifs]

LISTEN. Ever since we got eyepatch!Cait I've been craving for a pirate!AU CaitVi and this fic delivered. READ IT. READ IT NOWWWWWWWWWW. IM OBSESSED.

[macbethz]

was it because of you?

s8 deb attempted murder-suicide by car scene is bad. but the version of it i invented in my head? you cant even imagine

[abnomi]

EVERY REASON (that i can think of) AS TO WHY TURBO/KING CANDY IS NEURODIVERGENT 💥💥

i would like to make a disclaimer first and foremost about the obvious, being that Turbo/King Candy is heavily implied to have narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) and antisocial personality disorder (ASPD). Very often, characters with these disorders are portrayed as villains, and Turbo is no exception to this. There's nothing wrong with antagonistic characters having said disorders, per se, but when the only representation available for people with these conditions are found in characters you're not supposed to root for, it can be really disheartening. i won't be erasing these parts of him because i feel it would be in poor taste to gloss over those core elements of who he is, but plz keep in mind that having any kind of personality disorder doesn't make anyone inherently evil!!!🌞 your ACTIONS make you, not your brain

Also if anyone has any suggestions or other ideas for his neurodiversity, i would love to hear them! please do share!! I LOVE PSYCHOANALYZING CHARACTERS AND HEARING OTHER PEOPLE PSYCHOANALYZE THEM !!!! YAY🎉 if u agree or disagree with any of my points I'd love to discuss them further :-]

without further ado... click read more to find out…😈 be ready for a lot of reaches

💥 ADHD 💥

STIMMING

Turbo's constantly moving around in some way; he's a very expressive character! even as King Candy, he can't seem to conceal his frequent giggling. it's a big habit of his; he seems to do it involuntarily to regulate himself, including when he's nervous or uncomfortable.

he seems to display other repetitive behaviors as well, like doing his iconic thumbs-up pose, sticking out his tongue, or hopping around gleefully. he is but a jovial court jester..

i personally like to think that his phrases, "Turbo-tastic!" and "Have some candy!" are vocal stims of his, although i equally really love the interpretation that these (and the aforementioned stims) are tics :-]

another headcanon; i think it would make a lot of sense for him to have an oral fixation of some sort (ignoring the whole sigmund freud part of the term ermm...); just lots of biting, chewing, needing to have something in his mouth. It would align with the whole idea that he smokes, too

HYPERACTIVITY

we can clearly see throughout the film that Turbo has a lot of energy, made abundantly clear by his mannerisms and general behavior. he's constantly moving, using exaggerated expressions and gestures to communicate + express himself. He's one of the most animated and bouncy characters in the movie, next to Vanellope! it's silly how a character not very grounded in reality is such a threat, but i suppose that's what makes him so threatening in the first place...

another factor in this is how he is very adrenaline-seeking, craving activities that give him a rush (sugar rush...😂😂). more on that in a bit!!

HYPERFIXATION

Turbo's fixation with winning is all-consuming for him; it's an obsession. he doesn't appear to care about much else, if anything besides it. this could be interpreted as a hyperfixation for him (or special interest if ur all about that autism lifestyle), as it overtakes all of his focus and impedes every process of his mind.

it's clear that racing is much more than a passion for him, and while that fact is due to how he was programmed, it's a major character trait of his regardless that could be correlated to neurodivergence.

HYPERFOCUS

There seems to be a big theme of "all or nothing" when it comes to Turbo. he will either be fully dedicated to something or brush it aside without a second thought. it can't be denied that he fully wraps himself up in what he wants, whether it's a conflict he can't let go of or a new pursuit he's hungrily chasing after. 

ultimately, his dedication varies depending on if it is relevant to him and his interests or not, but this aspect of him still shares patterns with neurodivergent thought processes.

INSTANT GRATIFICATION

Seeing as he has a tendency to cheat in his use of code to spawn in whatever his heart desires, it can be assumed that this could do with Turbo wanting instant gratification to fill that bitter, empty void inside of him. while this could simply be brushed aside as greed and his belief that he is obligated to have access to whatever he wants, this trait is consistent with his generally dopamine-seeking behavior and wanting to be instantly rewarded by his actions. His obsession with needing to feel good directly relates to his need for another buzz, constantly after the next rush. (a sugar rush if you will☺☺☺)

ADRENALINE-SEEKING

Closely related to the previous speculation, Turbo always seems to be chasing his next high. he loves the thrill of action and being surrounded by crowds of people below him. it's why his big thing is racing! people cheer him on, he can do whatever he wants, he can go really fast and look cool..

it's possible that a big aspect of why he does this is to distract himself from any kind of pain, because pain = vulnerability. bro does NOT know how to independently cope with his own problems.. HE MAD AS HELLLLL!!! 😂😂

STRUGGLE WITH SELF CARE

(i know this is reaching but bear with me... 🐻) going off of his appearance and tendency to make poor decisions, it can be gathered that this man lacks skill in the self care department. his yellowing teeth and sunken eyes not only serve to complement his design, but also give way to the idea that he neglects himself in favor for whatever weird scheme he's up to.

of course, Turbo does prioritize himself above everyone else, but he doesn't strike me as the type to care much about how others think he smells. him being a bother to anyone isn't a concern of his. he cares about whatever gets him the most praise and attention from as many people as possible, which is winning and racing. Who cares about how clean he is when he's up on a podium holding a shiny, golden trophy, anyway?

It's likely that he had to step his game up when he went under disguise as king candy, which is why he looks well-groomed in comparison to his more corpse-like appearance. Ugly hoe. it can also be assumed that he's had more time to focus on himself because everyone loves him without question... Well, except for Vanellope, but who cares about her, right?

also, i know he makes a condescending comment to Ralph about how bad his breath smells, but it's made abundantly clear that Turbo is a massive hypocrite. his comment doesn't erase the possibility that he has suffered from such "halitosis" as well.

💥 ANXIETY 💥

GENERAL ANXIOUS BEHAVIOR

i know, i know, this could technically be chalked up to be "Turbo is nervously giggling and shit because he's scared of getting caught," but guys. g

even in the flashback scene, we can see how easily stressed he can become in an alarmingly short period of time. he is extremely insecure, therefore i am led to believe he is not only emotionally dysregulated, but also by extension, anxiety ridden.

yes, this is purely speculative, but who's to say that he wasn't like this before? being high-strung and intense are significant facets of his personality consistently portrayed throughout the film. as long as he is getting exactly what he wants, he is happy; the moment he loses even a blip of control, however, he immediately grows extremely tense.

if Turbo wasn't anxious about his disguise as King Candy before, he was anxious about how much attention he was receiving on a given day. if not that, then he'd be anxious over how he presents himself. He hates how he can't control how other people perceive him, which is why he is constantly trying to act like he's better than he is.

its why he justifies his behavior to himself, proudly making others refer to him as the "rightful ruler" of sugar rush and relishing in the attention of his countless underlings. Any secure and stable person would NOT ACT LIKE THIS!!!!😭😭😭

FIGHT OR FLIGHT

As we can see a handful of times on screen, Turbo's instinct to protect himself is very easily activated.

 his fear manifests in anger and aggression. we can see at multiple points how easy it is to upset him or fluster him; his anger is one side of the same coin, the opposite end being his fear and paranoia.

Going off of this point, have you noticed that Turbo is either satisfied or furious without much of an in-between? how the second something isn't under his manipulation, he lashes out and fights back? I'm led to believe that this is how he responds to fear (AAUAAYAUUUUGGHHH 🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡). This guy is so against the idea of being vulnerable, that even when afraid, he will utilize violence to regain his dominance over the situation at hand.

CONTROL + PARANOIA

Turbo's always trying to writhe or fight his way out of uncomfortable situations, unable to exist outside of his comfort zone for seconds at a time.

his defensive, paranoid, and controlling behavior are all reflections of how deeply insecure this man is. He feels such an intense need for everything to go exactly how he expects it to go that the moment he senses any kind of threat, he instantly jumps to defend himself and what he feels that he has "earned," regardless of whether there truly is a threat or not.

this could potentially be a coping mechanism for his anxiety and sense of stability; can't forget to mention how territorial he is!! he jumps to conclusions about what others' intentions are before they even get a chance to reply, as seen with his first encounter with Ralph in the movie. 

the racer is so internally discombobulated that he seeks any sense of stability on his environment, including on those around him. his sense of self is so warped that he copes with constant distraction; being under the spotlight, being actively racing, having to be showered with attention, having others make him feel good because he doesn't know how to do it for himself. he needs to feel like everything is under control, lest everything falls apart.

"...if there's ONE thing I can't abide, it's ANYTHING out of order!"

💥 NPD 💥

INFLATED SENSE OF SELF IMPORTANCE

Turbo's most in-your-face trait above all else. It's made more than crystal clear in every scene he's in that his arrogance is a determining factor in how he interacts with others. This is exactly what drives him to desperately crave admiration, to chase after others he's envious of because he thinks he is obligated to take what they have.

he seems to genuinely think he is entitled to get whatever he wants, just because he is inherently "special" or "better" than everyone else. Why else would he have made himself a king, a step above princess?

EXCESSIVE NEED FOR ADMIRATION

Turbo's self worth is COMPLETELY dependent on the opinions of children and teenagers. I think i don't need to say any more than that, but i will. (Evil).

As cartoonishly massive as his ego is, i think that it's fair to assume that Turbo has a very unstable sense of self, distorting his perception of his own worth down with it. his near-constant flaunting and need to be the best is a dead giveaway to his deeply-ridden self-doubt. The foundation of his stability is built around how "good" he is (at racing and winning), how powerful he is, whether or not he is being prioritized above everyone else, whether or not he is the absolute best, etc. etc.

The racer outright manipulates others to shower him with admiration and undeserved appreciation. He is incapable of forming a true sense of internal value, instead heavily and codependently relying on others to form it for him. if he isn't the best, he may as well just be nothing.

INTENSE JEALOUSY

He reacts so severely to what he perceives as others taking away what is rightfully his that it only goes to solidify my previous points even further. the second someone else is getting more attention than him, Turbo will bend over backwards to rip back the praise he believes he so rightly deserves.

being extremely competitive, he will one-up against anyone he thinks of as a threat, dedicating himself to taking them down to the best of his ability, and making sure they STAY down to top it all off.

INABILITY TO HANDLE CRITICISM

if we really dissect the entire one-off joke with Turbo insisting that his stolen pink castle is actually "salmon," along with all of his other domineering behaviors, we can garner that he is very persistent in how he wants others to view him. i wholeheartedly believe that this would translate into him not only being defensive over his supposed "ownership" of Sugar Rush, but also over himself and his own insecurities.

He needs to feel good about himself or else he will die and quite literally try to kill everyone.

LACK OF EMPATHY

He appears to have a fondness for making jokes in very poor taste. Turbo has a big sense of humor, but it's always at the expense of others. Be it a pun about a "fungeon," or jumping to protect himself with a joke about "hitting a guy with glasses," he has a tendency to take serious situations very lightly. It's not that he's unaware of the weight of it; he simply doesn't take it Seriously.

its admittedly impressive how he was able to feign empathy so well for Ralph; it goes to show how he is very capable of understanding that what he's doing is wrong, but ultimately does nothing to change his behavior because it doesn't impact him personally. 

i would like to honor this part of him, because even in the possible alternate path of a redemption arc, his struggle with empathy can be explored in a variety of interesting ways :-] he can understand complicated emotions and situations on an analytical level, but he doesn't feel for them unless it has to do with him specifically. (this obviously doesn't make him inherently evil, his ACTIONS make him evil)

💥 ASPD 💥

LACK OF REMORSE/GUILT

One of Turbo's core characteristics is just how far he is willing to go for his own self-interest with lack of regard for how it impacts everyone else. he has absolutely no concern for how anyone else feels besides himself, willing to go so far as to attempt to mutilate a 9-year-old to achieve his petty goals.

Turbo is shameless when it comes to how he goes about getting his way. While I'd like to believe he isn't fully incapable of feeling regret, he doesn't showcase feeling it in the movie itself. The most regret he'll feel is when he slips up and exposes himself. anything else is the fault of everyone else; he is untouchable in his eyes.

DECEITFUL TENDENCIES + LYING

Where do i even start with this one.

well, first of all, let's acknowledge the... erm, horse? in the room? 🐎😅(Please someone help me there is a horse in my room help helphel) being that Turbo went under disguise as King Candy for at least a decade. Even before this, there's a good chance that he's already had plenty of experience with lies and manipulation. i'd be willing to bet on this!!

one of his specialties is being proficient in manipulation, be it the code of games or the minds of people. theyre basically the same thing to him, anyway... I'm sure you all know the scene where he uses 16 manipulation tactics against Ralph and wins. this was Obviously not the first time he'd done this.

REPETITION OF HARMFUL BEHAVIORS

Time and time again, Turbo can't seem to help himself when it comes to poor decision-making. he never internalizes that his bad choices aren't JUST bad for others, but also for himself, continuing to escalate further and further into very dangerous behaviors until he literally dies.

Here's a list of bad decisions he has made! (at least, that we know of)

Pinning himself above his peers

Harassment + stalking

Carelessly charging through GCS with his car, endangering countless civilians

Attempting to take over a game that isn't his x2

Vehicular manslaughter

Implied mass murder + attempted murder, attempted mutilation

Mass endangerment

Breaking and entering, theft, usurpation, plagiarism

and more!!!!!!!

AND HE LEARNS FROM ABSOLUTELY NONE OF THIS!!! with some of the items listed here, he's attempted to do multiple times! Absolute buffoon.

RECKLESS DISREGARD FOR SAFETY OF SELF AND OTHERS

Considering how he was willing to charge into a game that wasn't his own with the awareness that it could permanently kill him, going as far as to recklessly crash into another car (albeit it's possible this was unintentional), it's easy to gather that he doesn't seem to consider anyone's safety at all in the spur of the moment.

IMPULSITIVITY

his impulsivity and disregard for safety both go hand-in-hand. When it gets to a certain point, Turbo's emotions will boil over and blow up in a cold rage, thus causing him to spiral and act on impulse, becoming a detrimental force to himself as well as everyone around him.

What's interesting is how much restraint he is capable of; he typically is very strategic in how he orchestrates his plans! but once he reaches his breaking point, he snaps and leaves all of his hard work behind in favor of something that calls for his immediate attention.

💥 ETC. 💥

extra tidbits i didnt have enough energy to fully delve into :-]

BPD

Fear of abandonment

Blurry sense of identity

Feelings of emptiness

Self destructive tendencies

Emotional instability

Explosive anger

ODD (oppositional defiant disorder)

He seems so infatuated with his own autonomy that he gets to the point of being resistant and defiant

Resisting against the rules of the world that he directly caused as a result of his own actions, being that one shouldn't "go Turbo."

Enjoys upsetting/getting a rise out of others. this is more speculative as i am going off of the assumption that he thinks pissing people off is funny, based on his other behavioral patterns. (cruel sense of humor, wanting to feel above others via control & manipulation, enjoyment of inflicting pain onto others)

Forcefully defends himself and refuses any kind of criticism

Lashes out when he feels slighted

Excessive persistence despite all odds, whether it's beneficial to him or not

ok bye!! thank you if you managed to read this far ^^ peace and love take care of yourself! all in all turbo is so neurodivergent ok please Okay <3 get this thing his meds

[susansontag]

written erotica, or even what I'd just call pornography, can be bad and can engage in misogyny, racism, all manner of creepy shit etc. but it's still never comparable to video pornography not because they can't engage the same sickening ideas but because those are real people being exploited on camera and that's text. still such a huge distinction

[starry-bi-sky]

What would a mother not do for her child What lengths would a mother not go There's a bond that exists between mother and child With no end to how strong it can grow It's a promise for life between mother and child It begins from the moment of birth.

================

She is six years old, and standing on the porch at her Auntie Alicia’s cabin. She is six years old, and holding an old rifle in her hands, standing at the railing and pointing the nozzle at a large target a couple feet away. There’s a pair of old ear muffs covering her ears. Behind her is her daddy and her sister, and Auntie Alicia. She can’t see them. 

Danielle Martha Fenton is six years old, and her momma has her arms wrapped warmly around her, keeping the gun steady for her. It’s heavy and the butt digs into her shoulder uncomfortably, and she feels nothing but determined. And nervous. 

Her momma was teaching her and Jazzy how to shoot, and they’re down in Arkansas to visit Auntie Alicia for her second “Divorce-iversary” as Auntie calls it. She keeps a hunting rifle in her gun safe for the rabbits that like to nibble on her garden. She mostly grows rhubarb, which goes untouched. But her carrots and greens and other veggies like to be tempting snacks for the game. 

Regardless, she is six years old and learning how to shoot. Her momma and her daddy (mostly her daddy) have been banned from every shooting range outside of Amity Park in a hundred mile radius. So Auntie is the best place to learn, or so momma says. 

Danny thinks it's just an excuse to see her sister, not that she's complaining. She loves visiting Auntie.  

She’s already seen Jazzy do this, her momma told her before the muffs went on to shoot when ready. No use trying to fire when you’re not; you can’t afford to miss when shooting ghosts. 

Danny breathes out steady, just like momma taught her, and quells her trembling little fingers. She focuses down the barrel, and pulls the trigger. 

Immediately, the recoil throws her off, the side of the gun that her cheek was resting on knocks against her skin, harsh enough to bruise if it weren’t for her momma’s steady hands holding onto her. The bang of the gun startles her more than she thought it would, and her heart leaps up and runs a jackrabbit through her chest. 

The gun is carefully slipped out of her hands, and Danny lets it go easily, her cheek smarting in pain and her eyes wide and following up to momma. Momma turns the safety on, and with a gentle hand, pushes against her chest. Danny takes a few steps back, and slips the ear muffs off her head. 

Mommy is smiling big at her, something that Danny can’t help but replicate on her own face as her heart swells. “Did I get it, momma?” She asks, watching as she passes the gun off to Auntie Alicia, who steps over to take it.

“I’m going to go see, sweetie, but I think you did.” Momma coos, before planting both her hands on the porch railing and, in a single leap, vaults over the side and onto the grass. She’s dressed all comfortable for the summer heat, with her hair all tied back and in shorts and a tank top and nice boots. Danny’s ribs swell hopefully, and she stands on her tiptoes to watch her walk over.

“I’ll be hard-pressed to believe if you didn’t, Martha Mae,” Auntie tells her, grinning like a cat, “that was a damn good shot.” 

‘Martha Mae Knight’ was Danny’s granny’s name. Auntie Alicia calls her that because of her middle name — and because, by her words, she has her momma’s weird-shaped eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. The kind that could scare a hawk into singing like a robin. It was Danny’s favorite nickname ever.

Daddy laughs brightly, the sound painful on her ears but twice as nice, and despite the distance, Momma whirls her head around to shoot Auntie a glare; “Language, Alicia. Not around my girls.” She warns. Her accent always comes through when they’re around Auntie. It’s Danny’s favorite thing to listen to. 

“Do you think so, auntie?” Danny says, bright-eyed and ever-optimistic. Auntie Alicia nods fiercely as Momma finally reaches the target and searches for the bullet hole. Daddy then comes up behind her, still laughing, and claps a hand onto her shoulder so hard that it makes her knees hurt.

“Of course she did!” Dad boasts, as bright as the sun and twice as warm. He shakes Danny affectionately, wobbling her on her feet and pulling her straight into his side. She goes so willingly with a burble of giggles. “She’s got the eyes of a Fenton! And our family are darn good shots.”

Auntie eyes him up and down, her smile immediately fading off into a pressed line. “I’m sure you mean she’s got the eyes of a Knight. You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn at twenty paces, Jack Fenton.” 

Jazzy holds back giggles from where she’s standing by the door, her ear muffs in hand, and Danny watches her Daddy’s dark eyes immediately narrow. Just like Auntie’s, his smile tapers off into a frown. 

Before he can say anything, there’s a cheer from the yard, and they all turn to Momma clapping her hands in delight. 

Danny immediately pricks her ears up, and would’ve darn near rushed over to the railing if it weren’t for her Daddy’s hand on her shoulder. She yells instead, excitement thrumming like a hummingbird against her ribs, “Did I hit it, momma?!” 

Momma beams at her with all the pride in the world, “You sure did, Danny!” And she turns to press her finger against the target, right on the inside red ring of the battered old bag. “Right here, sweet girl!” 

There are cheers from all around, and Danny’s heart bursts inside her lungs with shiny, sunshine glee. She puffs her chest out big, and smiles so wide it hurts the cheek where the gun smacked her. Her Daddy shakes again, squeezing her tight against his side in a hug that Danny happily reciprocates. 

“What’d I tell you, Martha Mae?” Auntie tells with a big wink and a wide grin, the gun still gripped tight in her hands as Momma makes her way back over. “You got a Knight’s eye.” 

When Momma makes it back over the railing, she hugs Danny tight and praises her shot. Danny looks her in the eyes and chases the feeling, and asks to shoot again.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

"Jason was the happy robin" this, "jason was the angry robin" that. Let's all be fully honest here Jason was the lonely robin

[madl-y]

✧. ┊— you're the one that I like (I can't deny)

3 times Orter Mádl denied his affection for someone, and the one time he was too tired to defend himself.

sypnosis – the other divine visionaries are sick of seeing orter lovesick (despite being amused themselves) so they try to push him to confess. (they, mainly being kaldo and ryoh. lance was there unwillingly)

> no tw! fluff! hopefully not ooc..? beware of grammar and spelling mistakes (sorry..)

> set in post innocent zero! so mild manga spoilers :"DD

> its also been a while since i've started writing fics again! this was kind of an impulse decision ahahaha...!

> i also didn't expect this to be long! sorry :"D

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

1 - 3 : EASTON ACADEMY

Orter Mádl never thought he'd see you again.

This is the third time in a row that he, alongside with another person, finished the assigned mission in each class that gives silver coins. Orter glances at the side, where another student slowly walks to the front as the teacher sang praises about them. Of course never forgetting the 'lectures' on how everyone should take inspiration from the two of them. (Frankly, it was getting quite sickening to hear.)

He kept his gaze at the front, while his awareness and attention is still directed at you. You, who always managed to keep up with him in tasks and classes. You, who despite having a weak personal magic, had always excelled at other spells. It was to the point where higher level year spells and advance magic was so easy for you.

You, who Orter thought that the first piece of the silver coin you got was a fluke.

Evidently enough, it wasn't.

Finally, after a lot of unnecessary speeches and praises, Orter and you are able to go back with the rest of the class. It seems most students were willing to run away the moment the teacher announced class was over.

Orter pushed his glasses and sighed. He finally felt the weight of his pocket from the gold coins he acquired recently.

Just from looking at you, Orter knew you felt the weight too.

Its nothing new. Clearly, Easton has a lot of students that were born talented. Easton in itself is a privilege. The best and the talented are here. Orter knew he'll have to face a lot of strong magic users just to carve his path towards becoming a Divine Visionary.

He must become one. Someone needs to maintain order. He needs to punish all those who dare and try go against society. He needs to fulfill his wish—

"Orter, aren't you going?" He blinked. Surprisingly, (or not really) Orter found himself still rooted on the grass. His previous place just a few steps behind him.

Ah, right. Someone called out to him.

That someone gazed up to him. Orter got used to people having to slightly tilt their head up from how tall he is. Though, he never noticed that your height reached his shoulders.

"Orter?" You called out again.

Orter shook his head, trying to keep his mind from wandering elsewhere.

Somehow, this always happens. Its always whenever the two of your interact with each other. Orter gets distracted and gods knows why!

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

It somewhat became a routine from how it always happens when Orter and you interact.

Its always you who's initiating. A simple greeting in the hallway. A simple show of respect to Orter's achievements. A simple saying of "congratulations" whenever Orter finishes first in class quizzes.

And it always follows up with an act of concern to when Orter spaces out.

Because somehow, he always ends up thinking of you. How did you keep up? What did you do? What magic spells were you able to wield so easily, yet you're own personal magic was so weak? Why were you talking to him? Did you want to become a Divine Visionary? Should he expect you as a future enemy? Why do your eyes always look like they're shining under the bright warm sun? Why—

"If you excuse me, I need to go." Orter bowed before walking away. He hasten his pace at the mere sound of your voice that stopped midway to ask something of him.

Why is it that its always you he exerts his effort to think about?

Its irrational. Its... nonsense.

Yet somehow, he couldn't help but think how prettier you are up close.

And its ridiculous to think about.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

2 - 3 : BUREAU OF MAGIC

When Orter thought that you might be working alongside with him, he didn't mean with you as just an assistant.

"You really saved me time, thanks!"

"These notes are so well organized... I should learn from you."

"I'm starting to see why the Divine Visionaries respect you alot."

"Heh..? Not bad from an assistant."

"Be nice, Renatus."

"Shut up, you stuck up hag." Sophina Biblia glared at the foul word.

"You–!"

"Would you like some honey sashimi with me?"

"With all due respect, Kaldo." You blankly stared at the Flame Cane and his abomination of a... food choice. "You're tastes in food and honey combinations are the worst thing ever." Kaldo felt an arrow struck through him. The palm of your hand raised up in front of him indicated that you were rejecting his food taste (like everyone else) and flopped to the floor in pain.

The other two visionaries sighed.

"Orter, here is your schedule for today and tomorrow. One of the chiefs in the Police force would like to schedule a meeting with you. Nerey's still clarifying who's attending though." You handed a folder to Orter while ignoring the bickering behind the two of you.

Orter nodded. "I'll take note of that. Although," He took a quick glance at the cup of coffee on your other hand. "I thought you don't drink coffee anymore?"

"Oh, this is for you."

Orter blinked, before pushing up his glasses. "I don't recall ordering one."

"What? Don't tell me you suddenly dislike coffee?" You leaned in with a teasing grin. Any outsider would think that the Sand Cane looks unamused, but working with Orter for a long time means you've known every expression of his, no matter how stoic.

"I didn't say I dislike coffee." Orter sighed.

"Yeah? Then, here you go." You lightly shoved the cup of coffee towards Orter. It looks so casual, as if its something you've done for a long time.

And it is something you've done for a long time.

Orter accepts the coffee. Gingerly taking care of the cup in his hands. His fingers subtly touch against yours.

Its always the same, and yet Orter still feels that small budding affection in him. (Not that he would show it, of course.)

A coworker calls your name. You immediately follow him down the hallway while giving a quick smile to Orter. He nods briefly as he watches your back retreating further.

Actually, Orter already drank a cup of coffee a while ago. He usually doesn't order a second one. He dislikes the feeling him palpitating in the middle of work. It only happened twice, but he refuses to feel it again.

Still, every cup you give him unknowingly, he takes it.

He licks his lips as the warm liquid travels down his throat. Its sweet.

Its sweeter than he's used to. He prefers it with less sugar, and absolutely refuses to let Kaldo brew his cup of coffee.

He takes one more sip.

Orter doesn't mind as he walks back to his office with the cup of coffee and folder in hand.

The next day, you find a freshly brewed cup of tea on your desk.

You tilt your head questioningly. This is a first that's happened ever.

You look around to see if there were someone nearby. Most of them were walking past and chatting with one another.

It tasted good at least. (After confirming that it wasn't poisoned. You wouldn't know what to feel if there was someone who wants you dead.)

Weeks pass by, and there's been at least two times that it has happened. It happens at random times so you weren't sure what the pattern was.

But clearly, the Divine Visionaries know something. Every time you ask, however, they just smile or sigh while giving you a cryptic answer.

Orter just shrugs and walks away.

"Hey-! I wasn't done talking to you!"

"Well, I am." Is what he always replies.

Soon after, Ryoh slings his arms around Orter and gives him a grin. "So... you like her?"

Orter pauses in his steps, before blankly staring at the smug Light Cane. "Her?"

Kaldo emerged from the sides. "Oh? Never thought you were the type to play dumb." His smile grows at the bristled look Orter directed at him.

"I'm not playing dumb."

"Sure."

"Its just that, she's the one you only prepare tea just right before she arrives at work. You don't do that to anyone else." Orter stares at Ryoh, who just smiles knowingly. Nothing escapes the Light Cane afterall.

"My, my, who thought that I have a rival in finding ways to charm a girl? Me, the greatest creation–" Orter shrugs off the narcissist before he can start his self narration.

Kaldo walks beside Orter, "So, you truly like her?"

Orter sighed, pushing his glasses in habit. "I don't."

Kaldo hummed in thought, "I'm not convinced." The Flame Cane frowned. "You two seem to get along well. No plans of confessing?" He tries to push further for answers, which makes Orter irritated.

"If you're not convinced, that's not my problem." Gold eyes glared sharply. "Again, I don't like her. I'm just giving back favors. I don't know about you, but I don't think gossiping is how a visionary should spend their day."

With that, Orter walks away ignoring the stares from the two.

It's natural to repay favors. You don't need to know Orter was the one brewing the tea on your desk after every coffee you give him.

Kaldo and Ryoh stared before smiling at each other.

"He likes her." Ryoh grinned.

Kaldo nodded in agreement.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

3 - 3 : EASTON ACADEMY

The bell rang indicating that class is finally over. Which also means that you have successfully made it through the whole day while teaching.... enthusiastic students. (The amount of headaches you've received from teaching students the most basic spells. Offense spells, especially.)

You greeted one last goodbye to the class before heading out towards the faculty.

While your main job is a secretary position in the Bureau, you were also recruited to teach at Easton for once a week. Mostly classes that are supplementary for those with borderline failing grades.

"Ah, who is more suitable than the student who excels in different spells regardless of difficulty? Am I right?" Walhberg's voice resonated in your mind.

It's been a year since you've started teaching. Right after the whole Innocent Zero world abomination happened. Can't say that you're surprised that Finn is one of your students, but he's currently doing better than you expected.

"I have to thank you for being patient with me, Sensei!" You recall Finn beaming with joy as he finally got one of the hardest offense spells to master. Safe to stay you were delighted that you had an impact to students.

Right after this class, you usually head straight towards the Bureau to take over the night shift-

A tap in your shoulder made you halt in the middle of the hallway, "Done with class?"

You come face to face with... huh.

"I didn't know you had a meeting here in Easton?" You should know, because you were in charge of handling the Visionaries' schedules. So you should know that Orter has no business here in Easton.

He shrugs, "I don't."

"Well, yeah, you don't. I should know that— I'm your goddamn secretary— but I'm assuming its an emergency?" You tilt your head in confusion. Gold eyes meet yours, his stare seemingly calculating and... hesitant?

"No." Orter replies.

Silence assumes between the two of you. You raised a questioning brow at Orter who just stares blankly at you.

"Then..? Care to elaborate oh divine one?" You add a hint of sarcasm which Orter slightly bristled at. He sends a sharper glance at you while you smile innocently.

Its not as if the two of you haven't acted that way before. Working together somehow brought the two of you closer and your relationship is somewhat casual.

Other words, you can be as annoying as you want and Orter won't shove sand down your throat.

"I don't know, you're the secretary." He raised a challenging brow back. You scoff in lighthearted annoyance while Orter seemed unfazed. That is, if it weren't for the ghost of a smile you managed to capture.

If you can be annoying as you want without consequence, then Orter will do the same.

"Okay but really, why are you here?" You question seriously while inviting Orter to walk beside you towards the faculty. He follows while keeping his gaze ahead.

"Hmm... You're headed towards the Bureau after this?"

"Oh? How did you know?" You ask with slight surprise. Nobody ever bothered to know your schedule, except for the ones that are quite obvious.

Orter sighed and sent you a dry look. "We've worked together for a long time."

A laugh escapes your throat, "Yeah, well, I've only started teaching a year ago. Until now, some forget I have to teach weekly then head towards the Bureau. I swear, its laughable at the same time such a headache. They keep on scheduling things when they shouldn't be." You sighed roughly, wondering if you should start scolding your coworkers more.

"They're idiots." Another laugh escapes your throat at Orter's words. "I'm guessing they're the same ones that accidentally added in my schedule that I'm supposed to be here at Easton." You see the way Orter's usual calm expression turns slightly irritated. Not evident that anyone from outside could see, but enough for someone like you who've known Orter since studying at Easton.

"Oh I see, that's how it is." You stifle another laugh, not wanting to irritate Orter further, but can't help the urge to tease him.

"You say its a headache when they do this, yet you're laughing? How annoying." Orter let out a huff while you grin.

"Maybe its laughable when I see others suffer." You teasingly smirk.

Orter rolled his eyes, yet he can't help but feel a minute affection at the casual interaction between you.

"You haven't answered my question, Orter."

Ah right. He hasn't.

Orter paused in his steps. Causing you two pause beside him too before facing him with a questioning smile.

Again, its the same. As if they're back studying at Easton where Orter always sees that smile of yours. Its always the same, so how come he always felt the same emotions where his stomach and chest swirl at the sight of it. At the sight of you.

He cleared his throat, "I did. I told you they sent me on accident. Messing up my schedule."

"That's true, but you could've gone back immediately." You turn your gaze towards the group of students on the field where they were practicing spells or playing around.

"You caused quite a commotion you know? It was hard to settle down my last class because apparently, a Divine Visionary is on Easton grounds." You cross your arms while a playful pout forms on your lips. "They were more focused on the fact that the Sand Cane was here. That was an hour ago, so care to explain?" You sigh in exhaustion. However, your pout was replaced by a smile the moment you see Orter's subtle shift in his eyes while he looked dejected at being caught. Again, only you could see those minute expressions behind his stoic attitude.

Orter pursed his lips, he didn't expect that his presence would be that of a commotion. To think he was confident in concealing his presence right before your class.

Huh, nothing really escapes you.

"That's.." Orter glanced away while pushing his glasses up. "Its not like it wouldn't hurt to—"

"Sensei."

"—visit you.."

Orter went silent before sending a glance to the person who had the guts to interrupt to people talking-!

His mouth opens in slight surprise at the look of one of the students he was mentoring.

Additionally, Lance looked equally as surprise to see Orter right behind you. He blinked, wondering if he interrupted something. He was pretty sure he heard another voice overlapping with his once he called for you.

"Sensei, Orter-san." Lance bows politely then turns back to you.

He sees in the corner of his eye how Orter pushed his glasses up (a tiny bit harsher) and looked away. Lance didn't have time to think about it as you call for his name.

"Yes, Lance?" You smile at the younger Divine Visionary.

"Ah, Finn wanted me to tell you that he can't go to the faculty after class to bring you his assignment. His other teacher told him to stay after class." Lance handed you a sheet of paper.

"He asked me to deliver it to you instead."

"Oh, thank you Lance! Its nice to see you taking care of Finn. Please tell him he did a great job and not to worry." You smile brightly as you felt another wave of pride for Finn. Sure he was called as the "weakest" in your supplementary class, but he's improving. A lot. Especially under your guidance.

One glance at Finn's paper, and you already knew he's going to have another high score soon enough.

"Also, Professor Claude told me to look for you. Apparently there's an emergency meeting with the faculty."

At the mention of Claude, you couldn't help but grimace. Lance didn't seem fazed at your expression, yet he also can't help sending a pitying glance at you.

Orter just raised his brow.

"And he couldn't tell me himself...?" You mumbled questioningly.

"He said he was busy." Lance replied dryly.

"Sure, he always says that." You muttered once again, not bothering to hide your disdain at your fellow professor.

You perked at the sound of someone clearing his throat. You turn to Orter apologetically. "Sorry, Orter. I forgot you were there."

While Orter didn't seem fazed on the outside, Lance could see the slight twitch on his forehead.

"I think Lance may have accidentally cut you off." You smiled sheepishly.

Lance thought so too.

"What was it you were going to say?"

Orter remained quiet for a moment before sighing. "Its nothing. I was about to head back to the Bureau."

While you nodded understandingly, Orter took the chance to sharply glare at Lance in displeasure. Maybe he should teach this kid a thing or two on how to not interrupt two adults when they're having a conversation.

Lance stared back unfazed.

"Well then, I have to go! Can you do me a favor and tell anyone who asks for me that I have an emergency meeting at the faculty?"

The Sand Cane let out a sigh, displeasure thinly veiled in his expression. Orter, however, nodded while his stoic look returns. "Sure."

"Thank you!" You bowed and smiled gratefully before quickly walking away. "See you around as well, Lance!"

The blue haired nodded as he and Orter stood still while watching your retreating back.

Once its just the two of them, it seems tension has risen again between them. Despite the fact Orter is training Lance, and frequently sees him around from the fact Lance is the newest Visionary.

Still, Orter can't help but stare at Lance who, of course is one of the known people to be stubborn as hell, stares back as well.

Orter is starting to think he should say something to rid of this awkward silence.

"Are you—"

"Did I—"

Both visionaries closed their mouths.

A sense of Déjà vu passes through them.

Orter tries once more.

"Did—"

"Is—"

....If he wasn't annoyed, he'd be very astonished right now.

Lance quickly spoke before Orter could, "Did I interrupt something?"

Orter just sighed heavily, "Sort of." His shoulders dropping as he recalls that very scenario just a moment ago.

"Sorry, I actually didn't see you there." Lance said politely as he could. Rubbing the back of his neck in slight awkwardness.

"Its fine. It wasn't important."

"It looked like it was though." The younger visionary rolled his shoulders as he looks away in thought. Orter raises his brow at the comment while Lance looked as if he remembered something.

"Ah, so she's the one Kaldo-san and Ryoh-san were saying that you liked?" With the way Lance said it with such a straight face, Orter had to process the words that was casually spoken.

"...What?" Orter's face crumbled in irritation.

Lance continued to look to the side in thought, oblivious to the way Orter was seething. "So that's why your schedule changed all of a sudden. I thought there's someone who was going to attack Easton so I was on guard the whole time."

Lance glanced back to Orter. "But Kaldo-san and Ryoh-san told me not to worry about it. It was quite a headache since a lot of our classmates heard news of you in the school grounds. Although, I never thought you were the type to agree to change your schedule for someone you like—" Lance felt a magical aura out of nowhere and began to get his guard up. Ever since Innocent Zero, its like an instinct at this point.

However, he paused as he noticed Orter who looked the same as usual. Straight-faced and stoic, yet Lance could see how tense he was.

"...I see." Orter said lowly.

He began to stare ahead in thought, before bringing out his wand and turn around without glancing at Lance. "Thank you for providing information. However, I would like to clarify everything was false."

One look at Orter, and you'd think he was just as calm and composed. Lance's glance at the hand gripping his wand tightly made him think otherwise.

The other knew to not say anything further, lest he drowns with sand flowing down his throat and out his ass.

"Everything?" But of course, Lance had a stubborn streak. Maybe Mash and Dot were rubbing off him too much.

Orter replied without looking back, "Everything."

"Even the part where they said you like her?" Lance pushed. Call it curiosity, or maybe the fact that someone like Orter indeed has feelings for someone, which makes it so intriguing for Lance to find out more and risk getting buried in sand.

Orter let out a deep exhale, which got Lance tense for a moment, before the Sand Cane started walking again.

"...Yes."

The Adler student watched as his mentor rounded around a corner. He was soon left alone in the hallways.

Lance couldn't help but feel like he caused a murder that's going to happen in the Bureau of Magic.

What's more intriguing, however, was that Lance immediately knew the real answer from the quick moment of silence before Orter replied.

Lance harumphed and went back to his dorms. "...The fact he had to lie even though it was already obvious."

That day, Ryoh and Kaldo struggled to give a lot of excuses to avoid Orter before they were caught.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

FINAL : LIBRARY IN THE BUREAU OF MAGIC

Orter was getting sick of this.

Its been weeks since that awful interaction with Lance and you, yet Orter keeps finding himself victim of Ryoh and Kaldo's infuriating schemes.

What's worse, is that the other visionaries go on about their day. As if there's nothing going on.

Here, Orter is glaring at Ryoh who keeps on convincing him that Orter should get over it and just confess.

Orter would be drowning Ryoh in tons of sands if it weren't for Kaldo backing him up. "I'm getting sick of this." Orter snapped.

"Well, sucks to be you. We're getting sick of it too!" Ryoh grinned while Kaldo laughs as if Orter wasn't getting bombarded with ideas on how to flirt with someone you've like for a long time!

"It was amusing at first, seeing how you'd suddenly act so soft and caring towards her. Yet it began to look painful at how both of you were acting so oblivious." Kaldo sighed as if it was his personal problem, and the fact that Orter can't even hurt them in retaliation, because damn them and they're actually useful for protecting the citizens.

"I don't-!"

"Quit the act! You like her, she likes you back. Now confess!" Ryoh cuts him off while pushing Orter forward to god knows where.

He's actually going to kill these bastards, visionaries or not.

Of course Orter is true to his words, so he brings out his wand and glares at the two. Ryoh just smiled (even though there's a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead at the sight of Orter's wand so close to him) and Kaldo doesn't seem fazed and watches from the side.

"Oi Kaldo! A little help?"

The Flame Cane hummed playfully, "Why, you're the strongest aren't you?"

"But we're in this together!"

"If you two don't stop this, I swear.." Orter gritted his teeth. He has a meeting for goodness sake. He's busy. He's also getting tired of this bullshit of a—

"Oh? What are you three...?" You had to double take the sight in front of you. Ryoh, who's grin faltered at your voice, still has his arms wrapped around Orter's shoulder while leaning his whole body to push Orter forward. Kaldo, who's playful smile drop and is replaced with a look of surprise as he stands from the sides.

Orter on the other hand, blinks and remains still while his expression remains his usual.

That is, if it weren't for the fact that his wand was gripped tightly in his hand and pointed at Ryoh with tiny bits of sand circling around it.

You raise your brow questioningly. "I think sparring between Visionaries is better suited outside and not in the library, no?"

The three blink once before glancing up at the sign above, which shows that indeed, they're in the library.

Just like what Kaldo and Ryoh planned.

Before Orter could protest, he was roughly shoved inside the library. He managed to stop himself from colliding with you.

Curse Ryoh Grantz and his narcissistic attitude because in the end he's still a strong visionary, and Orter prays that all mirrors nearby shall break once he merely appear in front of it.

Kaldo isn't forgotten in Orter's prayers, as he wishes all stocks of honey shall obliterate.

"Well!" Ryoh claps his hands gleefully, unfazed at the menacing glare Orter is sending his way. "Orter's schedule is cleared for the day-"

"It's not-"

"It is?"

"-And he has something he wants to tell you!"

"I don't."

"You do?" You tilt your head at Orter, who inhales deeply. He can feel his patience thinning.

"I don't-"

"He does." Kaldo interjects, and Orter was one step away into murdering the two before the library doors shut.

"Also! Miss secretary, your schedule is also cleared for the day! So spend more time together in the library. I heard you like to read from Kaldo." You can hear the joy in Ryoh's voice despite it being muffled. Which makes you even more confused as you alternatively stare at Orter and back at the doors.

"There are new selections in the library! Especially that one series about the legends of magical creatures." It was Kaldo's voice this time.

"Really?" Orter looked at you in slight disbelief. From how efficient and quick you are to adapt, you sure are easily distracted at what's really happening.

So of course, Orter will use it as an opportunity to—

"Ah, but first listen to what Orter will say." You don't have to see Kaldo to know that he's smiling.

...Orter hopes Kaldo will enjoy having sand in his honey as soon as he dealt with what he's gotten himself too (unwillingly).

It was silent for a moment. This time its a truly awkward one as you and Orter stood still side by side while staring at the entrance of the library.

You blink before giving Orter an embarrassed smile, "So.. I'm guessing you were dragged here against your will?"

Orter sighed tiredly, "Yes."

"I see, but I am curious as to why they had to force you to come here. Apparently, you want to say something?" You questioned, curiosity and slight worry evident in your voice.

Did something happen? Were they hiding something? Or was it just something silly that the visionaries (Ryoh and Kaldo you're guessing) planned and somehow, Orter was on the receiving end.

You watched with slight worry as Orter continued to send daggers towards the entrance of the library. Taking a small step beside him as you examine his expression. Not knowing if he was deliberately choosing to ignore you or not.

"Orter?"

Orter's head jerk up slightly at your voice. Indeed he wasn't choosing to ignore you, but was lost in thought on how to punish his fellow visionaries (mainly the two who shall not be named).

He turned his head towards you, sensing the worry in your tone. An apology for the current situation at hand and reassurance are at the tip of his tongue, ready to reply and.. oh.

For someone with great intuition and reflexes, Orter who prides himself in having great situational awareness— its something he thinks visionaries should have— he wasn't aware you two were this close to each other.

Orter finds himself stunned. A thought he's oh so familiar with immediately floats in his brain every time he coincidentally gets a chance to be close with you.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

Its always the same.

His mind always thinks that you're prettier up close. Not that you weren't pretty if you were far away.

Orter watches your eyes slightly widen at the close proximity you two are in, despite the library being so big. Its as if a spell was cast between you two. Designated to stare at the windows of each other's soul, not wanting to look away.

You think Orter's eyes are pretty. Like sand sparkling with hints of powdered gold that's blending well.

Orter thinks your eyes are glowing. Not physically, but with emotions he himself cannot express. He always finds himself melting at your eyes.

Maybe that's what's getting him soft when he interacts with you. Maybe Ryoh is just mistaken and that anyone you interact with also unwillingly goes soft at the sight you.

Orter blinks once, as he regains his composure. He sighs before looking to the side at the moment before looking back at you.

"Uhm, well, you really don't have to say anything if... you're not ready." You let out a chuckle. "Even though I don't know anything about what you uhh, want to talk about.." A light flush blooming at the tip of your ears and across your cheeks. A rare sight even for the Orter Madl himself.

Orter looks at you closely one last time, as he felt that exact swirling emotion in his chest as he takes in your abashed expression.

He scoffs to himself, earning a confused look from you. Before sighing tiredly. He resigned to his fate that Ryoh and Kaldo put him in.

And maybe, Orter has finally come to terms that he's indeed a liar.

"...Do you have anything else that you need to accomplish in the library?" Orter walks ahead of you swiftly taking the books in your hands as he looked at them interestingly.

Your mouth gapes in both confusion and surprise. Orter turned back to you and raised a brow while holding the books. "Well? I'd rather do something productive even if two... nosy idiots decided to clear my schedule."

Orter had the satisfaction to hear your laugh. "Careful, I might get too used to hearing your composure break. Who knew the all powerful Sand Cane had a foul mouth."

The visionary tilts his head, "Hm? I wasn't the one who turned to a blushing mess at a mere eye contact." He quickly turned away but you managed to catch a small smirk on his lips.

The unexpected teasing made you scoff, this time another light blush spread your cheeks in embarrassment. "I—! That was...!"

Orter feigned ignorance as he levitated a few books to organize them to their correct spot. Still, a light smug expression grew as he watched you from his peripheral vision try to defend yourself.

He took a quick step to the side to avoid the incoming jab to his arm. You glared at him unamused before waving your wand and levitating more books, grinning in triumph as one of them managed to hit him in the head lightly.

Orter stumbled slightly as he grunted at the thud of a book against the back of his head. He glared unamusingly, "That's no way to treat a Visionary."

You shrug, "Yeah well, maybe you should be quicker on your feet."

"I am though."

"Didn't seem like it."

Its been a while since you've engaged in friendly banter with Orter. It reminded you when you two would take quick jabs at each other back in Easton.

Orter stared at you, thinking deeply whether or not if he should go along with what his mind thought of.

"Well? Did that book hit you too hard or what?"

You started to shift in place at Orter's gaze. Not knowing if you should be worried or not if you actually hurt him.

Always one to act without thinking, you lift your hand up towards his head. Hesitating slightly at the way Orter's expression slightly shifted in surprise, before resolving yourself lightly touch his brown locks while feeling around the back of his head where the book hit him.

"Did.. did that actually hurt?"

Orter who finally processed everything, let out an amused hum. He grasps your wrist gently before lowering it back to your side. His eyes, once again, examining your worried gaze.

He really can't believe it.

You thought you managed to hurt him?

Orter let out a light huff.

How cute.

"For someone who's duty is to organize schedules and meet with different kinds of people," Orter finds himself facing his body to you. He grabbed a book on a nearby shelf and raised it in the air, gently hitting your head with the spine of the book. "You still have that quick temper and sharp tongue of yours from way back." He says, and he can't help but let out a more softer tone as he meets your eyes.

Orter sighs (for what it seemed the hundredth time) and places the book back in its proper place. Satisfied at the offended reaction he managed to get from you.

"You-! I was worried and-!"

He watched as you go on and on rambling about how you were genuinely worried. About how he was an annoyance from back then until now.

He sighed, how troublesome.

Orter pushed his glasses up as he faced you. "Really, how irritating." He sighs, "Out of everyone, I had to fall for you."

You paused. Your pointer finger that was in the air that was near jabbing his chest faltered.

Once again, Orter had the satisfaction to see you caught off guard.

"What?" Your heartbeat felt like it was pounding out of your ribcage. If you could hear it, what are the chances Orter couldn't.

Both of you stared at each other, heartbeats beating as one. While silence filled the room, the minds of the two were filled with different thoughts and the sounds of their heartbeats.

Finally, Orter spoke.

"I said," he leaned in closer, bending slightly forwards so his face meets yours directly upfront.

You could see the hint of amusement and affection in his eyes.

"Do you have anything else that you need to accomplish in the library?" Orter questioned.

He smiled in satisfaction at the frozen state you are in before heading off to walk with books in hand.

If Orter had to endure weeks of stress because he was forced to confess, well, you can't blame him for wanting you to experience the same.

He did confess after all. So sue him if Orter wanted a bit of fun messing with you.

He dodges another book thrown at him, a ghost of a smile hidden from the back of his head. Yet, if only you weren't so distracted that you could see the red tints on his ears.

Don't worry though, Orter will do this seriously. He doesn't intend to mess with you for that long.

Not until Ryoh and Kaldo get what they deserve.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

well... I didn't expect this to be THIS long.. why is this so long oml im so sorry aksdlajfklashglshdf hope you enjoyed though :"D this is not proofread

[jaegerdilf]

pairings: mammon x f! reader

warnings: cum play + scent marking ? + jealousy + plus size! reader + oral + fingering + exhibtionism + blood + spit

💌: miss writing soso much n mammon brainrot is horrible so hear me out!!!!

mammon with a big girl is something that just sounds perfect to me… he’s so jealous n greedy ‘nd is obsessed with claiming you in the messiest n most carnal way <3 he’s obsessed with marking you with his cum and his seed is so messy n potent n he cums soso much it’s almost overwhelming. he’ll cum on your tits, face, tummy and on your cunt because he loves the thought of other demons being able to smell him on you even after you’re all cleaned up afterwards. their sense of smell is superior to humans so even if you think you’re fine, they’ll still be wary of getting too close because his scent’s just that strong and who in their right mind would want to provoke one of the avatars of sin?

he’ll paw at your tummy and grip your hips so tight it leaves you sore, completely enamored with how you look beneath him, covered in cum and spit yet still begging for more. splays a hand across your tummy while his cock is still ballsdeep in your sensitive cunt and presses down, his sticky semen gushing out around his dick because there’s just so much inside.

mammon’s a biter too… puts his sharp teeth to use when in his demon form and leaves lovebites on your chest n thighs and even across your stomach <3 laves his tongue over the marks when they start to bleed a bit because he accidentally sank his teeth a little too deep in your soft skin.

if he’s feeling a little possessive, he’ll stuff your cunt and have you keep his cum inside n take you around the devildom, a knowing smirk on his face because he can hear even the slightest hitch of your breath and smell how aroused the thought of him showing you off makes you <3

he can never get enough of you either, always has to use you whenever he wants because his greed is uncontrollable. draws orgasm after orgasm from you, nearly salivating because you’re just as selfish as he is! wrapping a hand around his wrist while he’s fingering you or clenching your thighs around his head while he eats you out because you need to cum and you’ll do anything to reach your climax

[oneday-yourside]

Harry's world/Bad end

Inspired by Christina's world by Andrew Wyeth

[kan-be]

everyday is a fruk day here but today is especially so 🥳

[bor-ous]

remember that boobs dont dictate gender. trans people of any sort are allowed to have big boobs, small ones, none at all, anything. agab doesnt matter, there's no boob binary. intersex variation exists. etc