#he's always so delighted by coincidences like that

[angelsdean]

my dad was also like "can this guy stop monologuing" when john-as-azazel was going on and on in 1x22 and then 2 seconds later dean goes "you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing" and my dad was like "no way!" djfkdfkd

[nicoliine]

The day you noticed Lucifer was using his wings to court you.

☆彡 In birds, there is a great variety of nuptial displays at the time of courtship, especially in species that have melodious songs or show very striking plumage.

Little did you know, this would include angels or the king of hell himself.

 

☆ English isn't my first language. Sorry in advance.

☆ The reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.

 

You were always fond of birds, and you dedicated much of your life to helping preserve endangered species. You studied them, spent countless hours learning about the hundreds of species, a lot of diets and their behaviors.

This didn’t seem to stop once you found yourself in Hell; in fact, once you discovered there were a bunch of sinners with bird-like features, you just seemed content to be there.

When you arrived at the Hazbin hotel, you claimed one of the spare rooms as your personal studio, and after what you have called "the toughest battle in your life," you convinced Alastor to let you have a camera "as long as you never get that frivolous technology box near me."

Husk had to ask you not so politely to stop when you first met. Before you could even take his hand, you had started to ask questions about their wings; sometimes you even wrote on an oh-so-worn notebook of yours; it became a common topic of discussion between the two of you. When you forget he has work to do and start to take multiple pictures of his wings and even try to take one of his wings when he is not looking, Angel starts to think that your bartender friend is about to lose it, and you will end with a scratch or two.

 

Besides that, one could say that your presence in the hotel was appreciated; you could be found watching some funny shows on TV with Angel and never saying no to Vaggie when she asked for a favor. Soon, you started to feel part of the hotel, and the rest of the staff agreed with that.

 ☆◦ •◦☆

Lucifer was nothing like any man you had met in life or hell; he was, to put it simply, an awkward guy, always so silly yet so elegant. He had managed to get you longing for his presence more often than you would like to admit.

You are not sure how you and Lucifer became friends, but having a shared interest in ducks seemed to help. You gave him all kinds of facts about them, and he would step by your room every so often to show you the new rubber duck he was working on. Not that you're complaining, but one of his ducks set your courtains on fire on an occasion.

Charlie says that she is proud of his "social advances,” as she used to call your interactions. Seeing him out of his office more often and having an actual conversation with someone seems to make the princess happy and less worried about her father, and if that someone turns out to be you, it is so much better!

  ☆◦ •◦☆

The first time you noticed this weird behavior of his was the day you two met. You couldn’t help but mention, after his bickering with Alastor over who was Charlie’s father figure, that you found his wings precious. Lucifer, being the prideful man he is, wasted no time on extending his wings only for your delight, a smirk on his face as he saw your eyes wide admiring that part of him; they were so magnificent, you could swear they were shining in the light of the room, and you'd die to see if the feathers were as soft as they seemed.

 

Just a simple touch, please.

 

Before returning his wings to their place, there was a flutter of his wings, so slow that there was no way someone could notice.

But you weren't just someone; you knew it. What a coincidence! You could recap an article about some birds courtship.

The second time you saw it, you were in your room minding your own business. He came to you with a smile, but your eyes were looking past him, his wings on full display as he greeted you. There, his wings started flutter again, now lasting more than the last time. Now there is no way it was just a coincidence. “My eyes are up here, darling,” he said, that smirk on his face turning into a pout as you were not paying him enough attention. You just shake your head, focus on the man before you, returning your full attention to him, and the pout on his lips dissapears immediately as your eyes are on him.

 

  ☆◦ •◦☆

You are getting crazy; every time you get a glimpse of him, you find his wings moving in an oh-so-familiar way that you could swear it was a courtship dance, every time bolder than before.

That is when you decided to confront him, getting just a chuckle from him. It made you think maybe it was just your imagination, and you finally lost your mind.

 

While sitting on the hotel balcony, Lucifer was telling you one of his ideas for this new rubber duck. He said it would be the best one he would work on so far, even though you doubted that. Then you stopped listening, your eyes fixated on his wings. Every time he looked at you, they would flutter not so subtly, distracting you from everything around you. Your head rested on your palm, almost feeling bad for not listening to his rambling.

 

"Luci, you're courting me." It was supposed to be a question, but by the way the king of hell stopped his rambling and, looking at you with wide eyes, you found that maybe it was not.

"And what would make you think that?" He said mocking you, he also rested his head in one of their hands.

 

"Your wings, the way you move them," you pointed to his wings; they stopped his movements when you mentioned it; he just chuckled, then started to laugh. Was he laughing at you? It made you want to hide yourself from him; was it your imagination? No way.

 

"So you finally notice," he then said. Once his laugh was gone, he adjusted himself on his seat. Now, with both of his hands holding his face and looking at you with a smirk, his wings started to flutter once more. "I thought it would take you less time, may I be honest"

 

"Actually, I noticed it long ago; I thought it was just my—" You felt the air leaving your lungs once he got on his feet and moved closer to you. "...Just my imagination." You were not strange to his proximity, but this time he just looked so imponent, wings on full display and fluttering around. Now it was definitely a courtship dance, and you were on the receiving end.

 

"Now, what do you think?" He hovered over you who still sitting, a hand resting on the back of your seat, taking one of your hands on his and kissing your knuckles. The kiss lasted longer than you thought was the average time for one, and even then he didn’t let go of your hand. "Was my dance enough to impress you, darling?" Now, looking into his eyes, you could only see adoration, awaiting your response.

 

You couldn't speak; you can't imagine the king of hell pulling up something like this for you.

 

"My dear, please talk to me," he pleaded, a sigh leaving his lips as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his warm breath in your skin, burning like hellfire.

 

"It was," you said, Lucifer now turning his face to look at you. You took his face in your hands and moved him closer, he gave you an inquisitive look but with no intention to move from your touch. "I should have mentioned it earlier; it was quite impressive." You smiled, and he did the same.

 

Now, how long you two kissed, you also don't remember; what you remember, however, is how he held you against him as if you were just about to disappear right then, and that when you finally got to touch his wings, you were proved wrong.

His feathers were much softer than you have imagined.

This idea came to me yesterday when my dad showed me a reel of a lady bird who epically ignored the male who was dancing to her, I felt so bad and immediately thought about Lucifer.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞

[tokoyamisstuff]

Hey! I just found your blog and I’m now obsessed with the variant marks! If it’s alright to ask, do you have any HC for them??

Invincible Variants x gn! Reader

Warnings: pretty marysue, toxic relationship, angst, mentions of canon-typical violence and death

A/N: heya, love! so glad I infected you with the hype ehehe. since you didn't specify what kind of hc's you wanted I just threw in whatever came to mind. 💌

Omnivincible idolizes his father to an unhealthy degree, but ultimatively if he ever had to decide beween him and you he'd choose the latter.

It was easy for him to get rid of all his friends and allies, hell, even his own mother...but he spared you, unable to imagine a life without you by his side.

He keeps the true nature of your relationship a secret, having convinced the empire that you're merely a slave for his personal entertainment, but he does consider you his legitimate mate. Be ready to get called his 'pet' a lot, but he'd rather have you like this than not at all.

While mostly in denial about all of the obstacles and dangers to this secret affair, he's relentlessly searching for a way to artificially extend your lifespan.

Movincihawk is one of those people who are somehow stupid and smart at the same time. I bet his father never actually made him see a school from the inside, thinking their inferior human knowledge is beneath them. So while he's a capable fighter and strategist, you somehow have to explain the most trivial concepts to this man - and he's absolutely delighted every time, even though he's too distracted by your beauty to actually listen.

This one is all bark and no bite honestly. He's a bully and loves harmlessly pranking you but if anyone disrespects you in any way they're suffering dire consequences.

Behind closed doors he'd do anything for scraps of your approval really. Out of that very same reason he loves to brag and show off, as well as indulge you in any way he can think of.

Frankly he doesn't give a shit about what anyone thinks about his feelings towards you. Not that anyone would dare speaking up anyways.

I feel like Sinister is a born sociopath, and his universe probably is a tad bit more evil in general. Like there was no major event or anything that led to him being this way, this is just his default.

On the inside he is a deeply insecure person and tries to mask it through his god-complex. Rarely and only subtly he lets his guard down around you, just to become ten times worse afterwards, to compensate having shown weakness.

His fixation on you began when you dared standing up to him, unafraid despite being like a bug he could crush under his boot any given time. This fascination made him keep you alive long enough to develop romantic feelings for you, however he is still in denial about them.

Emotions in general are a foreign concept to him, so he keeps telling himself you're just a fleeting pastime. Even you are not safe from his sadistic tendencies, especially since he revels in trying to scare you away and knowing you'll always come back to him eventually.

The immense arrogance of Target/Striped Mark stems from him being raised 'for greatness' from the very beginning. He spent his entire childhood secluded from any civilization, alienating him from earth's inhabitants.

Back during his teenage years, after his powers awakened, he gave in to his curiosity and explored the planet and their people incognito, meeting you by sheer coincidence. Although his upbringing had indoctrinated him to believe you to be a lowlife, he felt drawn to you again and again.

When you found out about his true nature, he didn't leave you any choice and instead abducted you directly. He is a very strict man and has high expectations not only in himself and his subjects, but especially in you. And even though he has a soft spot for you, you better not disappoint him.

Fun fact: Him shouting so much does in fact not stem from his obvious anger issues, but rather a training injury that left his hearing permanently impaired.

No Goggles Invincible was probably raised the most merciless, being tormented both emotionally and physically from a very early age. This caused his mind to break at some point, which is the reason he's acting even more unhinged than the others.

In his dimension Debbie sided with her husband, and Mark greatly blamed her for not having protected him from Omni-man's abuse, ending up in him ultimatively killing both of his parents. So it's no wonder he has major trust issues, trying to control you through fear. Prepare for mood swings, regular break downs of his and random loyalty tests.

Due to his hardly contained sadistic site, he has a hard time restraining himself from harming you. On the other hand he also greatly enjoys you inflicting pain on him in any way possible. Sadly this is the only form of closeness he's used to, and being treated tenderly is actually frightening to him.

Once he almost killed you in a violent fit of rage and this mistake haunts him to this day. Ever since he's terrified of touching you.

Viltrumite Invincible got abducted by Nolan shortly after birth and was raised among his people, only returning decades later to finish what his father started.

And just like the main timeline Nolan, he folded like a lawnchair after crossing paths with you. It was love at first sight really, and being subjected to true affection that was frowned upon in his culture was just the nail that sealed the coffin of the empire.

Several times he had tried to regain his focus, coming with the intent to kill you for distracting him from his goal, and yet much to his frustration he could never bring himself to do so. The last time he tried he ended up asking for your hand in marriage.

Unlike his father however he confessed the truth to you way earlier, claiming that meeting you made him reevalue everything he was ever taught.

Prisoner Invincible got his scars as a punishment for rebeling against the Viltrum empire and trying to take over their reign. Actually they intended to rehabilitate him out of sheer desperation for their population was dwindling, but he couldn't care less.

Unlike the other variants who joined their father since it's the path of least resistance, he refused to after being told you wouldn't be allowed to be together. He is as much of a dangerous and ruthless individual as his counterparts, but he always remained loyal to you. It was the two of you against the rest of the universe, quite literally.

Even after finally being reunited with you his disfigurement never really bothered him, since the bond you two shared exceeded anything else.

The most similar to the original Mark would be Unmasked Mark, at least in the beginning. Yet he soon realized that any resistance to the power of Viltrum was useless, so he just gave in to his fate and worked for a cause he deeply despised.

Even after his betrayal and you ending up joining the resistance you'll find yourself entangled with each other every time you'd clash. Until the very end you believed that he'd have a change of heart, never stopping to treat him with kindness despite being on different sites of the battle.

Over time he became so immeasurably hopeless and full of self-loathing that he killed you as an act of mercy, in order to spare you a gruesome death during their explotation of the planet.

He still listens to your old voicemails, it's the only way he can find some sleep.

Fully Masked Invincible is the most sensitive of the lot but far from innocent either. He took the risk and tried to stop Viltrum from the inside, but their influence slowly but steadily corrupted him from the inside. And the less human he felt, the more he feared he wasn't worthy of your love anymore.

Viltrum considered his sentiments for you a flaw, and even though he ended the relationship to keep you out of harm's way, they got rid of you so you couldn't intervene with their soldier any further. He blamed himself for not having been there to defend you, haunted by nightmares of how he held your limp body as life left your eyes.

He was never able to fill the void in his heart, and with nothing else to live for he continued to work for the empire, growing callous to all of the carnage around him as everything seemed pointless without you.

Shall he succeed to get another version of you back with him, he's awfully overprotective, the mere thought of losing you again making him paranoid. Expect anything from constant surveilance over being imprisoned and even people close to you getting murdered 'for your own good'.

[sturnioz]

tw. obsessive behaviour. please read with caution. credits for obsessive!chris. @bernardsbendystraws

☆. . . CHRIS OBSESSES OVER THINGS AND gets attached pretty quickly. if there's a new game he likes, he'll continuously play it as if there's no other game in the world. if there's a song he likes, he'll have it on repeat so much that he memorises the lyrics and the instrumentals. if there's a new food he likes, he'll only eat that until the thought of consuming it makes him violently sick and he finds something different.

with people he crushes on, chris does everything and anything to be around them—forcing his way into their personal bubble and interests.

and you were his next target.

he first met you during a morning class you shared together, and you were made to sit next to him due to a minor inconvenience with another college student—bare faced, covered in an oversized red sweater, smelling like fresh strawberries and vanilla.

chris froze up in his seat, unable to draw his gaze away from the side of your head. his favourite colour is red, his favourite fruit is strawberries, and he loves the scent of vanilla candles. what a coincidence?

it's clear you did this for him.

you're perfect.

you're his.

his staring wasn't subtle, which made you feel even more annoyed than you already were from being forced to move seats, and you turn to look at him to confront him. but you see the look in his eyes—filled with want, desire, need.

a smirk slowly slithers across his lips, and he leans his elbows on the table as his eyebrow raises at your own unfiltered staring, but you tear your gaze away from him in an instant, focusing elsewhere in the room.

you begin to slowly notice the appearances chris starts to make in your everyday life; sitting near your table during lunch, studying at the library while you're there, following you on all your social media accounts, liking all your posts on instagram, and even posting stories with your favourite music attached.

he isn't slick, and he knows it.

you eventually end up cornering chris the next time you see him, especially when you catch him sitting in one of your favourite restaurants eating one of your favourite meals—which, by the way, you've never posted or hardly spoke about it in public or on your socials. you've gatekept it for so long than even your friends don't know.

chris is beaming from ear to ear when you plant yourself down in the chair opposite him, practically demanding him to answer all your questions about him knowing so much about you in such a short amount of time, but chris doesn't care, not when he finally has your attention after craving you for so long.

how you end up in a five hour long conversation with him is beyond you. you expected to be gone after confronting him on his obsessive behaviour, but you end up completely captivated by his smile and the way he talks to you, so you don't have it in you to get up and leave just like that.

he's already got you wrapped around his fingers, and he feels his obsession grow a little stronger when he manages to get a raw confession out of you.

your virginity hardly meant anything to you. you never actively went out looking for someone to hook-up with, and you weren't really saving it for that 'someone special'. it was just there, and it didn't bother you.

but somehow, you're home, your clothes thrown carelessly on the floor in a cluttered mess with chris between your legs, desperate lips biting and sucking at your skin like a starved animal, savouring the way you taste on his tongue—he's always been curious.

chris feels like he's on cloud nine once he's finally sheathed inside of your tight gummy walls, buried to the hilt with his balls pressed to your puffy folds that stretch around his cock, and his body flush against yours—sticky and sweaty.

chris could cry from delight as he cradles your cheek, a smile slipping onto his lips as he watches your face contort from pain to pleasure, feeling your nails dig into his skin and creating raw scratch marks that he can't wait to admire in the mirror later.

his grip tightens around your jaw, thumb stroking your plush bottom lip before pushing through the small gap of your mouth, pressing his thumb down on your tongue as he rolls his hips forward, sliding his cock in and out of your warmth, relishing in the sounds of your squeals and moans that fill his ears.

he's got you.

you're his.

you're all his.

divider credits. @/enchanthings-a

© STURNIOZ

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ be my valentine? ♡ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Third Years x gn! reader

𓏵 1026 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff, a bit ooc(?)

First Years are done! Second Years are done, too! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

I think Cater would act like Valentine’s Day is just another excuse to flood Magicam with cute posts and aesthetic gifts. He’d play it off like it’s all for the fun of it, saying things like “Gotta keep up with the trends, y’know?” But deep down, he actually cares a lot about making the moment special for you.

His gift would be trendy and well-presented, maybe something sweet with a cute aesthetic, but if you look closer, there’s an extra personal touch—something that shows he actually put thought into your tastes. If you bring it up, he’ll wave it off with a playful grin, but there’s a rare moment of sincerity in his eyes.

"Aww, you really think so? Heh, well, I guess I did put a little extra effort into this one. Don’t get used to it, though! You’re just lucky I’m such a generous guy—ahaha!"

─────────────────────────

I think Trey wouldn’t make a big fuss about Valentine’s Day, but he’d definitely prepare something nice for you. He’s the type to keep things warm and genuine—no flashy gestures, just something that shows he cares.

His gift would probably be a homemade treat, something classic and comforting. He’d hand it to you with an easygoing smile, acting like it’s nothing special. But if you compliment his effort or say it means a lot to you, you might catch the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks before he clears his throat and chuckles.

"Glad you like it. Don’t go expecting fancy things from me, though—this is just how I show appreciation. Besides, sweets always taste better when they’re shared, right?"

─────────────────────────

I think Leona would act like he couldn’t care less about Valentine’s Day. He’d scoff at the idea, calling it a “pointless holiday for lovesick herbivores.” But despite all his complaining, he still finds a way to acknowledge it—just in his own Leona way.

His version of a gift is low-effort on the surface, like tossing a small trinket or snack your way and mumbling, “Here. Don’t ask questions.” But it’s too perfect to be a coincidence—it’s exactly what you wanted or needed. And if you press him about it, he’ll groan, pretending to be annoyed, but his tail flicks behind him in amusement.

"Tch. You’re overthinking it. Just take it and don’t make a big deal out of it… Hah? Smirking at me like that—what, you want me to spell it out for you? Keep dreaming, herbivore."

─────────────────────────

I think Vil would treat Valentine’s Day as a day of refined elegance. He’s not interested in cheap, over-commercialized romance, but he does believe in meaningful gestures done correctly. If he gives you a gift, it’s going to be high-quality, well-thought-out, and suited perfectly to your tastes.

He presents it to you with effortless grace, watching your reaction with quiet satisfaction. If you gush over it or tell him he’s being too generous, he’ll smirk and tilt his chin up, as if to say “Well, of course.” But there’s something softer in his gaze, something unspoken yet sincere.

"Naturally, only the best will do. Did you really think I’d give you anything less? Hmph. It would be embarrassing if my significant other had poor taste, after all."

─────────────────────────

I think Rook would treat Valentine’s Day like a grand performance. He wouldn’t just give you a gift—he’d turn the entire experience into something poetic, dramatic, and entirely him. You’d probably receive a beautifully wrapped present along with a handwritten letter overflowing with romantic prose.

His excitement is impossible to contain, and if you get flustered, he only leans in closer, drinking in your reaction with an adoring smile. There’s no need to question how much he cares—he makes it very clear.

"Ah! The look of delight upon your face is a sight more dazzling than a thousand sunsets! Mon trésor, it brings me endless joy to bestow upon you this humble offering of my affections! Ahaha! Do not look away—your blush is exquisite!"

─────────────────────────

I think Idia would panic at the thought of Valentine’s Day. He’d overthink it so much that he’d almost consider ghosting you until it was over. But after an entire night of agonizing over what to do, he’d finally settle on something—probably an item related to your interests, carefully selected after hours of research.

Of course, he’d struggle to actually give it to you. He’d probably send it through Ortho or leave it somewhere with an awkward note. And if you dare bring up how sweet it is, he’ll go into full meltdown mode.

"I-It’s not a big deal, okay?! It’s not like I stayed up all night picking it out or anything—ahaha—oh, Great Seven, this is so cringe, I wanna bury myself alive!"

─────────────────────────

I think Malleus would find Valentine’s Day fascinating. It’s a human tradition he’s never properly experienced, but once he learns about it, he takes it very seriously. He approaches it like an ancient ritual—deeply thoughtful, highly ceremonial, and just a little too intense.

His gift is something extravagant—maybe a rare artifact, an ornate piece of jewelry, or something imbued with a hint of his magic. He presents it with all the solemnity of a king bestowing a royal favor. If you tell him he didn’t need to go all out, he looks genuinely puzzled.

"Why would I not? This is a day to express deep affection, is it not? A mere trinket would not suffice for one as precious to me as you."

─────────────────────────

I think Lilia would be completely unpredictable about Valentine’s Day. One year, he might go all out with the most extravagant (and mildly terrifying) gestures—singing dramatic love ballads outside your window at 3 AM. The next, he might hand you something utterly chaotic, like homemade food of highly questionable origin.

But beneath all his mischief, there’s sincerity. If he gives you a genuine gift, it’s something deeply personal—maybe an old keepsake with sentimental value or a charm infused with protective magic. And if you call him out on how sweet he’s being, he only grins.

"Fufufu! Did I surprise you? Valentine’s Day is so much fun! Now, come, my dear—shall we dance under the moonlight, or shall I prepare another culinary experiment for you?"

[fel-09]

10 psychological pressures on you which he likes to use on you

Words 1,300

Reader x hannibal

1. Watching you look away when his gaze lingers too long

Hannibal loves to catch your eyes, only to watch you shyly look away. For him, this moment is like a hunt. He knows his piercing gaze unsettles you, makes your heart race.

Every time you try to hide your embarrassment or fear, he sees the fragility in you—something he longs to hold and… break. But instead of frightening you, he lets his gaze soften, adding a playful hint of tenderness to this game. It keeps drawing you back to him, again and again.

2. Trying to catch your scent among thousands of others

Your scent is his drug. He can pick it out in a crowd, faint and mingled with other aromas. Sometimes, he moves closer under the pretense of a casual gesture, just to take in a deeper breath.

He doesn’t need to say it—you can feel it in the way his breath lingers near your neck when he stands too close. For you, it might be unsettling, but that delicate balance between comfort and unease keeps you both locked in a strange, unbreakable dance.

3. Giving you small gifts that remind you of his control

Hannibal loves giving you things—books, gloves, rings. But every gift carries a message. You know he doesn’t give them without intent. It’s his way of showing he sees right through you, that every detail of your life is no mystery to him.

You find a ring that perfectly matches the dress he once casually complimented, or a book you’ve been searching for but never mentioned. It’s both enchanting and unsettling—he knows you as if he’s reading an invisible map etched into your soul.

4. Leaving traces of his presence so you remember him

He leaves his scent on your coat, his book on your desk, his shadow in your thoughts. Hannibal loves to ensure you feel his presence even when he’s not around.

You notice how his handkerchief somehow ends up in your bag, though you’re certain you didn’t take it. It’s no coincidence. It’s his way of saying, “I’m always here, even when you don’t see me.”

5. Noticing how you unconsciously try to please him

Hannibal notices everything—the way you adjust your hair when talking to him, how you choose your words more carefully than with others. He knows you’re trying to anticipate what might please him but never mentions it aloud.

He delights in your attempts to understand him without words. For him, it’s a game: how far will you go to earn the approval of someone who plays your emotions like a violinist plays their instrument?

6. Listening to the sound of your voice until it falters

Hannibal listens with unnerving intensity, as though dissecting each syllable you speak. His questions come gently at first, coaxing you into comfort, but his gaze—too still, too knowing—turns the conversation into something else. It feels like he’s searching for a crack in your tone, the faintest quiver of unease.

When he finds it, the air thickens. He speaks then, not of the surface-level topics you’ve brought to the table, but of you—your fears, your contradictions, the things you try so hard to bury. His voice is velvet, but the precision of his words feels surgical, as if he’s peeling back your skin without ever touching you.

7. Leaving marks that are invisible to the untrained eye

His touch lingers longer than necessary, but never enough to be obvious. Later, when you’re alone, you notice faint impressions: the trace of his hand pressing into your wrist, a sharp scent clinging to your collar. These remnants seem almost accidental—until they happen again.

You begin to realize they’re deliberate. The marks he leaves aren’t wounds; they’re whispers, subtle reminders that you’ve been claimed in ways no one else can see. And as much as you try to brush it off, the weight of his presence doesn’t fade—it sinks deeper, like ink spilled beneath your skin.

8. Turning your habits into pieces of himself

He watches you so closely that your habits—those small, thoughtless gestures—become his. You see it in the way he stirs his coffee exactly as you do or pauses mid-conversation to tilt his head in a way that feels eerily familiar. It’s not mimicry, not flattery. It’s possession.

Over time, these reflections of you in him grow sharper, more deliberate. It’s as if he’s absorbing you, rewriting himself with fragments of your existence. And when you catch these echoes in him, the sensation is disorienting, like staring into a mirror that’s begun to think for itself.

9. Placing you in situations where escape is an illusion

Hannibal doesn’t trap you with chains or bars; he constructs prisons out of circumstance. A dinner party filled with strangers who speak in riddles, a moment where you realize too late that every choice you make has been anticipated. He orchestrates these moments as if composing a symphony, and you’re the instrument in his hands.

You sense the layers too late. The compliments that felt genuine now taste of manipulation. The seemingly innocuous conversations twist back on themselves, revealing a web you never saw being spun. It’s not that you can’t leave; it’s that you no longer know how.

10. Planting his presence in your sanctuary

Objects begin to appear in your home—subtle at first, easily dismissed. A knife in your kitchen drawer, heavier and sharper than the rest. A book resting on your nightstand, open to a page that feels too specific, too intimate. These things feel wrong not because they don’t belong, but because they do.

You never see him place them there, but they carry the unmistakable weight of him. Each item whispers that he knows where you are, what you need, what you fear. And no matter how you try to rationalize their presence, they remain, weaving his shadow tighter into the fabric of your life.

[katiefrog217]

AziraCrow | Book Reading

(Scroll down for mini story vvvv) + (Companion Piece)

Aziraphale liked books, especially the old ones. They were the main reason for owning his bookshop, after all.

He loved reading them, too. Sitting quietly in the back of his bookshop with a good book and the occasional accompaniment of an old record made for quite the delightful evening, in his opinion. Despite his being handless (and therefore, fingerless), Aziraphale was perfectly capable of turning pages on his own. Not with his talons of course; Heaven only knew the trouble that would come from attempting to turn the aging and potentially fragile paper with such unreliable instruments. It would be a simple enough fix if a page did happen to tear, but the memory would haunt him forever. Instead, all it took was a flick of his wing and woosh, the pages would turn themselves. Sometimes he just had to ask nicely. However, there were times that he didn't need to expend the effort.

Those times just so happened to coincide with a particularly serpentine visitor.

Crowley's visits were irregular and not always predictable. Most of the time he would pop in to complain about Who-Knows-What and disappear off to Who-Knows-Where. Sometimes he would stay longer, and they would share a glass of wine or some other alcohol, chatting a lot about nothing and reminiscing about times long passed until the shadows grew long. On rare occasions they would sit in comfortable silence, doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company. Aziraphale would then pick a book to read and Crowley would slither over to join him.

Of course, Crowley didn't like reading - or at least claimed he didn't. 'Not worth his time,' he'd say dismissively. Still, he (bored expression and all) would come, make himself comfortable by coiling around both the book stand and Aziraphale, and just watch. Just about anyone on Earth would likely be uncomfortable being stared down by such an intense gaze, but not Aziraphale. Over the many millennia, he has grown used to being observed by those golden eyes. Dare he say, he even found it comforting in a way, but that was besides the point.

He wasn't sure how it started; perhaps Crowley found himself overly bored that day, but he began turning the book pages whenever Aziraphale raised his wing to compel them instead. It had started him at first, and he had looked to Crowley with much confusion, though the demon had nothing to say in return. He merely shrugged (or at least it could be considered the serpentine equivalent of a shrug) and turned away. A few more pages in, and he'd turn them again. This happened over and over until Aziraphale heaved a sigh gave in, allowing the serpent to do as he wanted. At first, it was quite awkward to give verbal cues, and there were times when he became so engrossed in his reading that he forgot entirely, but eventually they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Nowadays he didn't even bother. It had become almost automatic: Aziraphale would finish the page and it would turn, no questions asked.

Aziraphale suspected it would baffle the minds of many to see a demon treat anything so gently, yet Crowley turned the pages in such a way that they were never bent nor crumpled. In fact, it seemed to him that the older the book was, the gentler Crowley'd be. He seemed... 'content' was the wrong word to describe his attitude towards the activity, but he never said a word otherwise. At least, not to Aziraphale.

He never pointed this out, of course. Crowley would stop doing it if he did, and he didn't WANT him to stop. He enjoyed it too much.

Once in a blue moon, Crowley would make a comment about whatever Aziraphale was reading at the time. It was often snide, mocking, not always audible. Hisses of exasperation or an exaggerated eye roll were not uncommon either. Then he would turn away, bored despondence washing over his face, shutting down any attempts to further the conversation. Not that he would respond if Aziraphale did, though that hadn't stopped him from trying. On one occasion Aziraphale had tried to push the topic, only for Crowley to deflect, insisting that he had only glanced the passage at random. He stopped turning the pages then. Aziraphale never tried again and settled with only giving him sidelong glances when he said something particularly egregious.

And so they would read, the silence broken only by the ticking of an old clock and the occasionally rustle of a page.

...

Aziraphale liked his books.

He liked reading them alone in his bookshop.

But he liked them best when Crowley was there to turn the pages for him.

[lamb-teaa]

` Doppelgänger Curse

( Experimental Draft Part 1 )

Your life has been fairly normal.

Average parents, average friends, average job - plain yet calm and simple life.

But who would've thought it all came crashing down on you one day when you met her.

A non-Evolver like yourself had always placed your trust and faith in the Hunters of the city, especially during an unexpected Wanderer attack. But the moment your eyes met hers as she pulled you behind her as a shield, the world around you shifted in an instant.

You would've merely chalked it up to coincidence, a similar look-alike, a stranger with an identical face...

.. If it weren't for the fact that the moment she took your hand, rushing both of you out of the building, a strong jolt of electricity shot through your brain, flooding with foreign yet familiar memories in an instant.

Love and Deepspace. Evol. Aether Core.

The sharp pain had you gasping for air as you held your head tightly, you could hear the Hunter's worrying voice as she crouched in front of you, her words faded in the background as you slowly and shakily lifted up your head to look at her.

Then your eyes caught sight of a familiar man behind her.

Love Interest.

Your life has never been the same since then.

She was as stunned as you, but more so she looked quite delighted to see you and began rambling on about how identical you looked to her - whereas you still grappled with the memories of your past life while simultaneously struggling not to go into a panic attack whenever you saw her.

× × × × ×

What would've been thought of as a fateful yet short encounter turned into an unnerving coincidence as you find yourself bumping into Miss Hunter more often than not.

You couldn't really avoid her, didn't have the heart to honestly, given she had quite literally saved your life and unexpectedly she took a fondness for you. A fondness akin to a long lost family - even though you and her both knew that neither of you had any blood relation.

But she was so fond of you, so much so it ended up getting the unwanted attention of a certain man.

Miss Hunter's chosen love interest.

...Or rather, your previous life's chosen love interest.

Although living your new reality up until now, you don't actually know Miss Hunter and her beloved's actual relationship status after meeting her.

Even as she began hanging out in your life more, she never uttered much about him and you weren't the type to pry.

But you weren't blind to the affection he showed around her, from the impromptu gestures to the warmest of smiles he looked at her - you could tell how much he loved her.

If you were back in your previous life, holding onto your phone as you read the sweet interactions between him and her, undoubtedly you'd feel envious and begin punching your pillow and whining along the line of 'why can't it be meeee!'

But now, seeing him real and tangible and terrifyingly surreal, you could only hope he remained his focus on her and not you.

Why?

You liked him in a fictional form rather than in a reality's sense - which is most likely why you had a difficult time liking real men back in your old life.

Because fiction wouldn't harm you.

But this new reality would.

Especially when you knew everything about him.

× × × × ×

Your interactions with him so far are, you'd say, admirably respectable to say the least.

Although you were initially worried in the beginning when Miss Hunter wasn't around or unfortunately had to leave you and him behind when she had to rush for her mission or other matters, you were relieved that he didn't spare much attention on you.

On the contrary, he had expressed his gratitude because Miss Hunter had been livelier since befriending you. You likewise reciprocate the mutual friendship, from both her and him.

However it's still unfortunate when on some accidental occasions, he'd mistake you for her.

"I got you the new plushie you've always wanted."

"...I don't collect plushies."

"That's strange, I thought you'd be out on a mission today."

"...I'm not a Hunter."

"I heard the escape room increased their difficulty levels. Want to try it again?"

"...When have I ever been one?"

"Didn't you have an appointment today? I remember someone keeps forgetting her regular checkups."

"...I don't have Protocore Syndrome."

"Where are you going? That's the wrong direction."

"...This is the direction to my house."

The immediate freeze-up followed by an averting guilt-ridden gaze and a small apology, you couldn't even be mad at him even if you wanted to.

But you can't help but feel annoyed and frustrated.

It's one thing to share an identical face to her, but it's another to have a similar voice and even certain habits and slight mannerisms to her and you can't help but wonder, could it be your fault?

You definitely did customize her, who's supposed to be the player's avatar, to appear identical to you and you wryly thought perhaps it ended up manifesting in this new life of yours. And the only difference you can take a slight solace is that you both didn't have the same name.

… Because you gave your nickname to her in-game instead.

But still, to this extent it is just damn ridiculous

Slowly and surely, you retract yourself from him as much as possible. Even when she asked you out for another hangout together, you'd make sure it's a girl's girls only hangout because you have had enough of being mistaken for her by him.

In your mind, it's for his own sake.

And your sanity's sake as well.

× × × × ×

You remembered playing Love and Deepspace and held deep sympathy towards the MC. To die and reincarnate with no memories and her beloved either died or disappeared because of her.

An endless cycle.

A pitiful ending.

A cruel twist of fate.

Perhaps it was a blessing for her to not remember any of her past lives because you apparently had all the knowledge and memories against your own will, having to carry another person's secret on your own.

A placeholder of her memories.

And for what reason?

You would never know.. But it's cruel, to both her and you.

In your last life you would've joked about Infold being the catalyst of evil to her life and perhaps by some dark magic they possess, to your life too.

But you can't even crack a smile nor laugh anymore. This new life, new reality of yours, is far the cruelest in your entire memory.

A cruel confusing reality that had left you trembling when the dreadful news reached your ears.

'She's gone'

Your Hunter twin, your dear friend, your mirror sister - your doppelgänger other half, had succumbed to a fatal injury during a search and rescue mission.

Leaving the once joyous life she once brought to everyone around her.

Leaving her beloved who ended up spiralling into a heartbreaking rage.

…Leaving you to face the aftermath of her death.

× × × × ×

You remembered how shocked everyone around you was when you brought Miss Hunter into your life all those years ago.

As much as you didn't want to be involved with her, but that one dinner invitation as a token of gratitude for saving you had changed your life forever.

Your parents' astonishment immediately turned heartwarming as even they treated Miss Hunter like their own daughter. You were their only child and given how you knew she was an orphan, you actually didn't mind that your parents treated her as their own - and naturally you did see her as a sister figure. Although the talks about you both being the twins they would've envisioned to have, honestly made you feel torn between wishing she was your real twin sister vs the confusing anxiety rising in the pit of your stomach when you recalled how her life was like.

Your friends and coworkers had their own mixed reactions. Some were appalled and in complete disbelief while some were more dramatic and exaggerating that most of them always commented how they couldn't tell you and her apart. And the fact your parents actually entertained the idea of taking a DNA test between you and her once before only to come back not a match, one of your friends even joked about being doppelgängers and how you two should duke it out according to old folklores. You allowed yourself to indulge in their playful notion with a smack on their heads, despite struggling to push down the uneasiness you felt at being so similar and so identical to her.

And then… then there was him…

You remembered the intense stare and the unsettling silence, like he was analyzing you - reading you. Although it was a mere fleeting gaze before he shifted his attention back to her, you could still feel his eyes boring holes into your back when you weren't looking.

You were relieved, so so relieved when he kept his sole attention on her, even when the three of you hung out together. Even when in the beginning you could tell he felt wary around you as well, but seeing how much Miss Hunter enjoyed your company, he too began easing up a bit.

And that's when the confusion began.

The many times he mistook you for her, the many times he called out her name instead of yours, the many times he unconsciously gravitated closer to you when she wasn't around - it was stressful and aggravating to have to endure.

You thought you could still brush it off, pretend to be oblivious about it and evidently so it wouldn't effect you as long as she was still around to ground him back to reality.

But now she's gone.

And that's.. that's when the nightmare started.

teaa’s end note: this ficlet can be seen as in any of the Love Interest, basically a 5-in-1 scenario between reader and the LIs so hopefully it's not too confusing!

additional note: kinda on the fence on continue writing this but at the same time i needed to let this out so do tell if i should continue with it. thank you for reading and hope you'll have a lovely lovely day!

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ?

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵

She’d felt on edge all day. Scratch that, the whole week. 

Things with Luke lately had been good. They were getting by, and he had even made dinner last night. Some spaghetti. He was trying, and she appreciated it. Or, she was trying to. It made her feel awful, and guilty, but there was a small part of her that felt as if they were coasting.

Her mum was coming to visit, and she was looking forward to it more than she could admit to her over the phone. The guest room was prepared, and Luke had made sure his schedule was free for dinner. He had been very adamant about being there. It was sweet. It should have made her heart swell, should have reminded her why she said yes in the first place. 

Instead, it just made her stomach twist.

When three o’clock at the office rolled around, she kept checking the door, waiting. Her mum had promised to stop by, just to see where she worked, to say hello. She had warned her not to make a scene, and her mum had laughed and said, “Oh, baby, you act like I embarrass you.”

And yet, she still found herself unprepared when she saw her standing there in the doorway, looking delighted to be in an office of all places.

“Mum,” she said, already bracing herself as she stood to give her a hug, “you really didn’t have to come.”

“Don’t be silly! I wanted to see where you spend all your time!” Her mum beamed, taking everything in. “Oh, it's nice! Bit… beige. Do you have a plant or something?”

“No, Mum.”

“You should get one. Maybe a fern. Oh!”

She turned to see Luke approaching from behind them, offering a polite smile.

“Hey, you.” He kissed Y/n’s temple before nodding at her mum. “How have you been?”

“Oh, lovely! Busy place, isn't it?”

“Yeah, it keeps her on her toes.”

Her mum hummed knowingly, eyes flicking past Luke’s shoulder. “And your meeting?”

“Running late. I should get going.” He kissed her cheek again. “See you both at home?”

“Yeah.”

And then, as soon as the door shut behind him, her mum turned to her, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Okay, which one is Matt?”

Her whole body tensed. “Mum!”

“What? I just want to see! You talk about him enough.”

“I do not.”

Her mum gave her a look. “Sweetheart, you do.”

Heat crawled up her neck. She risked a glance across the room. Matt was where he always was, leaned back in his chair, sleeves rolled up, staring at his computer. He must have felt her gaze because he turned slightly, raising an eyebrow. She snapped her head away.

“Is that him?” her mum whispered again, amused. “Oh, he’s cute.”

“Mum, please.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop.”

Across the office, Matt blinked, glancing back at his screen. She seemed happier already, having her mum there. He had seen her looking. Or maybe he was imagining it. Maybe they were just talking about something else, and it was just a coincidence. He shouldn't care either way.

She barely glanced in his direction for the rest of the day, though.

credits to rose for the dividers! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: omg it's been so long i've almost forgotten how to do this dfhjbhsj. hope u enjoy!

taglist: @sturnshood @mattsstarlet @throatgoat4u @sturnsrecord @applecidersturniolo @certainfestivalnerdshepherd @sosasturns @ifwdominicfike @cheriiboo @sturns-mermaid @solarsturniolo @sturnberries @mattscherries @mattsturnsgirlie @snoopychris @hjvi @loverboysturn @backwardshatnick @priscillaog @ribbonlovergirl @irmantez @corspebridedelrey @and-a-monochrome-vision @pretty-random-writer @ilovebirds17 @snoopymatt @princesspeach0-0 @blahbel668 @marysongohmy @sturnl0ve @heavenlybunnies11 @desreads @chris-hallelujah @courta13 @sweetshuga @pair-of-pantaloons @st7rnioioss @mattswifeyy @bluestriips @marialovessturniolo @matts-girlfriend @wtvrnvmnd @sturnslutz @chrislova

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

PAPA GOJO

Note: scenario based on this smau

Masterlist Discord

Satoru crouches down to his daughter's height, flashing her a warm smile, “Okay, girlie,” he says softly, voice full of love for his little girl. “Worms or bears?” he asks her, a bit of mischief laced in his words. 

“Hmm…” The little girl, no more than five years old, thinks deeply about the question her father asked her. She brings her tiny finger to her lips, tapping thoughtfully, contemplating which candy she should pick. “I take the worms, papa!” Her small joyful giggles fill the room as Satoru hands over the candy with a pout. 

“I wanted the worms…” he laments, flashing her a frown. The little girl giggles at her father’s antics. She shakes her head with a toothy smile, clutching the candy closer to her chest. “Papa no, you can have the bears,” She reaches her little hand out, pointing at the bag of gummy bears that rests in her father’s palm. 

“Okay…” Satoru coincides with a dramatic huff. He flashes his daughter a wink letting her know he was serious, at least not completely. He stands back at his full height, taking her small hand in his, both of them making their way over to the couch. Satoru plops himself down first, the cushions sinking under his weight. His daughter climbs up beside him, nestling into the crook of his arm.

“Papa open, please?” She raises the bag of treats up to her father’s face. Satoru’s heart melted at the sight in front of him. Something about helping his daughter out with anything she needs always made him feel useful. He gently takes the bag from her small hands, “Of course,” he says with a smile, his voice filled with affection as he begins to open the bag.

“There you go,” He says, handing the bag back to her. “Thank you, Papa!” she exclaims, her voice bubbling with happiness. Without any hesitation, her little hand reaches into the bag and pulls out the first piece of candy. She pops it into her mouth, savoring the fruity taste of the gummies. 

She really was a carbon copy of her father, both with a raging sweet tooth. That you curse Satoru everyday for, so much so you had to limit the amount of candy in the house. But for Satoru the look of delight on her face as she chews is priceless, and the way her little feet swing happily back and forth as she enjoys her treat. It was definitely worth disobeying his wife’s rules for once in a while. 

Satoru watches her with a smile, feeling a wave of contentment take over him. It was moments like these, the simple moments, that made him feel at peace with life. “Papa… want one?” The sounds of his little girl snaps him back to reality. He sees his daughter holding up a gummy worm. 

He smiles again, nodding his head. “Of course,” and with that Satoru opened his mouth, leaning down slightly, moving closer to her hand. With great care, he takes the candy into his mouth, chewing on it with exaggerated satisfaction. “Mmm, delicious,” He chuckles, his daughter following with a fit of laughter at the faces her father makes. 

Both of them sit in the comfortable silence while finishing their snacks. “Now if your mother asks what you ate for lunch… what are you going to say?” Satoru grins, his eyes twinkle with mischief. Your daughter looks up at him, her eyes fill with awareness. She knows her father and she knows this tone, the one that means they’re in on something together. A little secret just between the two of them.

Her lips curl into a smile. “Ramen!” she yells out, looking up at her father again, confident with her response.

“That’s my girl,” Satoru smiles warmly, reaching out to ruffle her hair. She knew the perfect answer. 

[sh4nksslvt]

Hi! Hope you have a nice day. If it's okay with you, may i request something for the charming firefly, ace?

Something like ace is vv oblivious to the reader's flirting, just thinking everything just a coincidence, like their seat on the dining table are next to each other, or when he's thirsty or hungry, the reader will always have a drink or snack/food ready. While actually it's happening because of the reader and their observations.

Sorry if it's too long, thanks for your time for reading this! (Completely okay if you're not ok with writing this, i just wanna say thank you)

a/n: wahh! thiss is soo cutee! hope u like thiss ><

Clueless Hearts and Full Plates

Ace doesn’t realize the reader’s affection is behind every perfect coincidence—until one finally clicks.

Ace X gn! reader

tags: fluff, sfw, flirting, ooc, ace being oblivious

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It was always a coincidence.

At least, that’s what Ace thought.

Every meal, every shared moment, every little “accident” that placed you beside him was chalked up to fate, luck, or the universe just being weirdly nice to him that day.

Like this morning.

The Moby Dick rocked gently with the waves, and the crew had begun their daily scramble to the galley. Ace, still half-asleep with bedhead and one sandal barely on, made his way to the table. As usual, the crew’s chatter filled the room with the kind of loud, familial chaos only the Whitebeard Pirates could manage.

And, also as usual, the seat beside you was the only one open.

“Hey,” Ace greeted, plopping down with a yawn and no suspicion.

“Morning,” you replied, already pushing a glass of orange juice in his direction without a second thought.

He blinked. “Whoa, you read my mind. I was just thinking I was thirsty.”

You smiled. “Coincidence, I guess.”

Ace grinned, utterly unaware of how long you’d been keeping track of the way he always reached for juice in the morning, never coffee, never water. Just juice. Always.

After a minute, he added, “Also kinda hungry… I forgot to grab a roll or somethin’.”

You wordlessly slid a small plate of warm bread and butter closer to him.

He gasped, delighted. “Seriously, you’re magic! You always have just what I need!”

You bit your lip to hide the fond curve of your smile. “Lucky timing, huh?”

Lucky timing.

That’s what he called it the other day when he tripped coming down the deck stairs and nearly face-planted—only to find your hand catching him in time. It’s what he called it when he accidentally left his hat on the upper deck and you “just so happened” to come by with it a few minutes later.

You didn’t mind. Not really.

It was kind of… endearing. In an Ace-way. He wasn't cold or careless—he just genuinely didn’t see it. The thought that you might be observing him, remembering the things he liked, and subtly trying to show him how much you cared? It never even crossed his mind.

You watched as he messily buttered a piece of bread, crumbs falling on the table. He looked content, humming a tune and swinging his feet like a child in a giant’s chair. And when he caught you watching, he gave you a bright smile—one so open and warm it made your stomach flutter.

“Y’know,” he mumbled around a bite, “you’re always around. It’s kinda nice.”

“Kinda?” you teased.

He nodded, mouth still full. “Mm-hmm. Like, comfy.”

The word hit somewhere soft in your chest. He didn’t even realize he was flirting back.

Later that day, a few of the crew were setting up for poker in the corner, but you were more interested in the commotion coming from the training area. You leaned against the railing, watching Ace spar with Marco. He was shirtless, flames licking at his fingertips as he dodged and laughed, clearly having fun.

Your gaze lingered on him. How could it not? He was strong, fast, alive with every movement.

And when he collapsed on the deck in dramatic defeat—Marco having pinned him with a blue-flamed armbar—he wheezed out, “Water… I need water…”

By the time Marco released him, you were already at his side, bottle in hand.

“Holy crap,” Ace said between breaths. “You’re, like… everywhere.”

“I told you,” you said casually, helping him sit up. “Lucky timing.”

He chuckled, leaning back on his palms and chugging half the bottle. “At this point, I’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel or something.”

You raised a brow. “You think your guardian angel would watch you get elbowed into the deck before offering water?”

Ace grinned. “Gotta build character, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest was warm with something fond and frustrating. How could he be so oblivious?

The truth was, you noticed everything about him. The way he only got grumpy when he was too hot or too tired. How he always tried to hide his hiccups when he laughed too hard. How he made sure the youngest crewmates never felt left out during meals, even if it meant giving them the last piece of meat on his plate.

You didn’t just like him. You admired him.

So yeah, maybe you rearranged your seat every meal to end up next to him. Maybe you kept his favorite snacks in your jacket pockets during long shifts. Maybe you started carrying an extra bottle of water—just in case a certain fire fist decided to exhaust himself in a sparring match.

He never asked. You just… wanted to.

And he just… didn’t notice.

It wasn’t until one particular night, under the stars, that things finally shifted.

You were both sitting on the edge of the deck, feet dangling above the sea. Most of the crew was asleep or out of sight. Ace had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and you handed him a second one without saying a word.

“Man, it’s like you read my mind,” he said for the hundredth time.

You sighed softly. “Maybe your mind is just easy to read.”

He looked at you, puzzled. “Huh?”

You gave a small, nervous smile. “I mean… I always seem to know what you need, right? I guess I just pay attention.”

There was a pause. The kind of pause where your heart beats a little faster, wondering if maybe, finally, he might catch on.

Ace blinked. “Oh. So you’ve got like, observation haki or something?”

You stared at him.

Deadpan.

“…Yeah. Sure. Let’s call it that.”

He beamed. “That’s so cool!”

You dropped your face into your hands.

But then—something changed in his tone.

“…Wait.”

You peeked up through your fingers.

Ace’s smile was still there, but it was… slower. Thoughtful. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. Every juice, every meal, every seat, every snack.

And then, like someone lit a match under his brain, realization bloomed across his face.

“…Wait.”

You watched the faintest red spread over his cheeks. He sat straighter. “Are you—? Have you been—? This whole time—?”

You tilted your head, lips twitching. “You’re cute when you put the puzzle together.”

He gawked. “So it wasn’t just coincidences?!”

You snorted. “Ace, I’ve been flirting with you for weeks.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

And then he laughed. It was loud, a little embarrassed, but full of warmth.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“A lovable idiot,” you corrected, nudging his shoulder.

“…So does this mean,” he said slowly, “you like me? Like, like like?”

You raised a brow. “Only if you like me back.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to yours with a shy, crooked grin. “Well, now that I know… I’m definitely gonna start paying attention.”

You chuckled, nudging the bottle of water into his hand again. “Start with drinking water. Then we’ll work our way up to romance.”

Ace laughed, and this time, he didn’t call it luck.

[laurenairay]

so tell me to leave - W. Nylander

Summary: once is an accident, twice is coincidence, and three times is a pattern. You really needed to stop falling into bed with your ex-boyfriend William.

Happy (early) birthday @cellythefloshie – here is my entry for your birthday bingo celebrations! I managed to hit bingo too, with: one night stand, pining, quickie, ex’s to lovers, autumn birthday. I had a lot of fun writing this one, so I hope you enjoy it!

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: implied smut (off screen), poor communication, William being a flirt, William being an idiot.

Title from July, by Noah Cyrus

~

“This was a mistake.”

“Good morning to you too, käraste.”

You huffed, moving his arm away from your waist so you could get out of his bed. It took all of your strength not to roll your eyes as you saw blatantly check out your bare body.

“I’m serious, William. This can’t happen again,” you said firmly, shimmying back into your dress from last night, eyes desperately searching for your panties.

Three times would be a pattern, after all.

“Ouch, full name before coffee,” he groaned, “Just come back to bed, it’s so early.”

“Not going to happen,” you shot back, giving up on the lost panties in lieu of getting out of his apartment as quickly as possible.

You had other underwear at home – the sacrifice of one black lacy pair wasn’t the end of the world. Even if they were his your favourite. The longer you stayed here, the likelier you were to crack. You knew it. William knew it. It was a downside of having dated him for three years – he knew you far too well. Three months as exes was hardly going to change that all that quickly.

“I missed you this summer,” he murmured, propping his head up with a hand, bicep unfairly bulging.

“You looked like you were having plenty of fun in the UK, I doubt you missed me,” you snorted, picking your phone up from the floor.

The moment those words left your lips, you knew it was a mistake with how his face lit up in delight.

“And there I thought you’d deleted me from your social media,” he grinned.

Ass.

“I have,” you said dryly, “But I still follow your brother.”

His grin dimmed slightly, but he just shook his head.” You always did like Alex more than me.”

You just rolled your eyes. It wasn’t difficult to like his brother more than him right now – Alex wasn’t the one who’d left you in pieces.

“I have things to do, people to see. Or is it things to see, people to do? I always get that mixed up,” you said simply, eyes wide and innocent.

William just snorted. “You’re breaking my heart over here.”

“You broke mine first.”

He inhaled sharply, his composure visibly cracking, before a smooth grin slid over his lips. “I’ll see you soon, käraste.”

You hated how the words made your heart flutter.

~

From: DO NOT ANSWER I believe these are yours? [image]

Your jaw dropped at the message your received three days after the night you’d sworn to forget. The lost black lace panties. He’d had them all this time?

To: DO NOT ANSWER You thief. Why did you keep those?

Your eyes darted over to your coworkers, exiting out of the message thread with William while you waited for a response. The last thing you wanted was for them to see your waylaid underwear on your screen.

From: DO NOT ANSWER I didn’t keep them on purpose. Don’t you remember I shoved them in the back pocket of my jeans when I dropped to my knees by the front door? I definitely remember.

Your cheeks flushed with heat. Of course you remembered his hungry gaze looking up at you and the way he muscled his shoulders in between your thighs. How could you possibly forget that?

To: DO NOT ANSWER You are the worst. I want those back.

His quick response left you breathless.

From: DO NOT ANSWER You want them? Come and get them.

~

“You know, when I said come and get them, I didn’t necessarily mean straight after you finished work. That’s got to be a record for how fast I’ve gotten you from my front door to screaming my name,” William mused.

He just had to ruin the moment.

You lifted your head from the pillow, glaring down at him and squirming as he dug his chin into your belly button, your bare thighs framing his face like the artwork it was.

“And have you keep them like a weird trophy? No thank you,” you shot back, ignoring the jibe about the lightning-fast speed of your rendezvous.

He just cackled, smacking a kiss to your bare hip before rolling out of your hold. You shivered at the lack of body warmth, trying to keep your cool as he crawled up beside you to thump himself down on the pillow next to yours.

“I know you miss me, käraste.”

Something about the way he looked into your eyes, skin all flushed from your recent activities and a small smile on his lips – well, it left you feeling vulnerable.

“William,” was all you could murmur.

“I miss you,” he said firmly, “I miss you so much and I’m pretty sure my whole family is sick of me talking about you.”

He talked about you to his family still?

He missed you?

“You’re the one who broke up with me, remember?” you said shakily, pulling the sheets up to cover your chest.

“And I regret it every day. I was an idiot,” he said softly.

“You can’t just say these things! It isn’t fair!” you groaned, sitting upright.

William sat up next to you, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I know okay, I know. But I’m holding onto hope that you still miss me too! This is the third time we’ve fallen into bed together since we broke up. The first, when you came to pick up your belongings before I left for summer – once is an accident. But the second time three days ago? Twice is coincidence. Three times now…well, it’s a pattern. Three times when I didn’t deserve it, you still graced my bed with your presence. So I’m sorry if I’m not making things fair right now, but this is hard on me too.”

He was pining. William Nylander was pining.

Tears stung at your eyes and you turned your head away from him, but he placed a hand on your thigh over the bedsheet, staying silent. As much as your hated to a admit it, he had a point. Three times was a pattern. But was it a pattern you needed to break, after the way he treated you?

“You tossed me aside like old trash, William. You broke up with me out of nowhere, when all I’ve ever done is love you, and support you, and care for you. All because I dared to smile when Steph and Mitch joked that I’d be the one walking down the aisle next. A joke. A simple joke, because we’d been together for three years and they could see how much I loved you. But that wasn’t enough for you, or it scared you, or whatever the hell it did to make you break my heart and run away,” you said angrily, tears making your voice watery.

William’s hand tightened on your thigh briefly before it slid away, and you finally looked back at him to see tears in his own eyes.

“You’re right. I panicked. I messed up the best relationship I’ve ever had because before you I’d never thought about marriage, not seriously. And then they brought it up and it was all I could think about and I spiralled and I panicked. I’m sorry, käraste. I’ll never be able to make up for how sorry I am.”

Your lips parted in surprise at the raw emotion in his words, speechless for once. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and he took a shaky breath before smiling sadly.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you, and I’m sorry for breaking your heart, and I’m sorry that my insecurities and panic took control. I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, let alone even having you here right now, but I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I mean it. I love you. I love you and I miss you,” he murmured.

He loved you.

He loved you and he missed you.

Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks at the honesty in his words, every ounce of him genuine and soul-destroying. A whimper tore from your throat at the very thought of him still loving you, and it was all you could do to clutch at his shoulders as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in the gentlest of kisses, barely able to catch your breath as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” you managed to choke out.

William smiled sadly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leaning backwards to look into your eyes properly.

“Is there any chance that you can forgive me, and give me a second chance? Even the slightest sliver of hope?” he asked, chewing his bottom lip.

“I don’t know if I could cope with that kind of heartbreak again,” you said hesitantly.

He let out a shaky breath but nodded. “I understand.”

If ever there was a time to trust your gut, now was it.

“It would take a lot for me to trust you again.”

His lips parted, a stunned expression seeping across his face.

“And we shouldn’t sleep together until I feel like you won’t break my heart again.”

“You mean…”

He trailed off, eyes wide as he ran his hand over his hair.

You winced. “If that’s a deal breaker then-”

“No no no you’ve given me hope, don’t stop now,” William grinned, making you huff out a laugh, “It’s your birthday next week right? Do you have any plans yet?”

“I don’t have any plans yet, no. Why?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Where was he going with this?

“Let me take you out for dinner. There’s this great Thai place that’s just opened up. They use seasonal produce and I’ve heard their fall menu is incredible. There’s no-one I’d rather go with, other than you. So let me take you out for your birthday, please?”

“You want to take me out for my birthday?” you asked, surprised.

“I want to take you out on a date. It just so happens that I can spoil you for your birthday at the same time. I want to treat you just like you deserve, käraste, just as I should’ve always treated you. And you deserve the world.”

How could you say no to that?

“You only get one second chance,” you warned him, unable to stop the smile that spread over your lips.

“That’s all I need. I’m going to make this up to you, I promise,” he grinned.

[aventurineswife]

Hellooo!! Could you possibly do Pirate!Reader x Mermaid/siren!Aventurine?

Here’s an idea: They’ve known each other long enough to the point Reader genuinely starts questioning if Aventurine is constantly stalking their ship or not, since he seems to pop up nearby whenever their ship stops somewhere.

The Tide Pulls Us Closer

Summary: Every time you dock your ship, Aventurine is already there—waiting, watching, smirking like he knows something you don’t. It’s happened too often to be coincidence. When you finally confront the siren about his apparent stalking, he only offers cryptic smiles and half-truths. But you know Aventurine well enough to recognize when he’s playing a game… and this time, you’re making sure the stakes are even.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Pirate!Reader, Siren!Aventurine, Slow Burn/Mutual Pining, Flirty Banter, Power Play & Mind Games, Cat-and-Mouse Dynamics, Underlying Tension.

Warnings: Mild language, Subtle manipulation & mind games, Mentions of piracy & smuggling, Light tension & suggestive implications, Aventurine being a charming yet dangerous menace.

A/N: tried a new style? Let me know if you guys like it, I'm not so sure about myself 🧍‍♀️

The sea had its own laws, its own rhythms. You had learned to read them like a gambler reads his cards, knowing when to fold and when to play. But no amount of seamanship could explain why every time you made port, he was there.

Aventurine.

The first time you saw him, you thought he was just another wandering soul of the sea—a siren with a voice like velvet and a smile like a dagger wrapped in silk. The second time, you thought it was coincidence. By the fifth, you were convinced he was stalking your ship.

And now, here he was again, lounging on the warm rocks of this nameless cove, half-submerged in the shallows, watching your crew unload cargo as if he had all the time in the world. The water lapped at his skin, iridescent scales catching the afternoon light. His eyes gleamed, pupils slitted like a predator’s, and that infuriating smirk never wavered.

You crossed your arms, standing at the edge of the dock. “Starting to think you’re following me, fish boy.”

Aventurine chuckled, low and smooth, the sound carried by the wind. “Oh? And here I thought it was you who kept stumbling into my waters.”

“You’re in every damn port I visit,” you shot back. “Unless I’m mistaken, you don’t exactly have legs to walk around, so either you’ve got a terrible sense of direction, or you are following me.”

He tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “Mm. Or perhaps the sea itself wants us to meet. A little wager between fate and the tides.” He lifted a dripping hand, gesturing lazily. “Besides, can you blame me? Your ship leaves the most delightful chaos in its wake. Plundering, smuggling, outwitting the Navy… I do love a good gamble.”

“You are stalking me,” you muttered, running a hand down your face.

He only grinned wider.

With a sigh, you stepped closer, lowering your voice. “Alright, Siren. What do you want?”

“Want?” He dragged a webbed finger through the water, tracing idle patterns. “Now, that’s an interesting question.” His voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial. “Would you believe me if I said I simply enjoy your company?”

“No.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, Captain, you wound me.”

“Try harder,” you said flatly. “You don’t just ‘enjoy company.’ You like winning. What’s the game here?”

Aventurine’s gaze flickered, the easy amusement in his expression giving way to something more calculated, more dangerous. For all his theatrics, there was always something unreadable beneath the surface.

“Perhaps I’m simply keeping an eye on my investment,” he mused.

You raised a brow. “Investment?”

“You.”

The word settled between you like an unspoken challenge.

For a long moment, the only sound was the distant cry of seagulls and the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore.

Then you laughed, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Aventurine merely shrugged. “I do try.”

Despite yourself, you smirked. “Fine. You want a game? Let’s make it interesting.” You crouched at the edge of the dock, fingers trailing over the water’s surface. “If I can outmaneuver you, get my ship out of here before you find me again, you stop lurking.”

His slitted pupils narrowed, intrigued. “And if I win?”

“You tell me why you’re really so interested in me.”

For the first time, Aventurine’s smirk faded just a fraction. Something in his expression shifted—too quick to catch, but unmistakable.

Then, just as fast, the mask slipped back into place. He grinned, sharp and bright.

“Oh, Captain,” he purred, “you do love to gamble.”

You leaned forward, mirroring his smirk. “And you do love to lose.”

The game was on.

[strawberry-bubblef]

Hiya! If you're still doing requests can you please do one of Malleus having a dino s/o? Idk why, i just thought it was cute They could be considered reptilian lovers 🥲

Malleus with dino!reader

Malleus Draconia had always been drawn to the strange and the unique. So, when he met you,a creature both ancient and powerful in your own right,he was fascinated beyond words. You weren’t just any student at Night Raven College,you were something different, something primal. A dinosaur, a relic of an age long past, yet standing before him in the present, carrying the weight of history in your every step.

At first, others found it amusing. A dragon and a dinosaur,two beings bound by their reptilian nature walking side by side like creatures from a forgotten myth. But to Malleus, it was more than mere coincidence. It was fate.

He admired you from the start. Your strength, your resilience, the way you carried yourself with the quiet dignity of a species long gone yet never truly forgotten. He saw in you something familiar,an echo of his own isolation, his own longing for connection. While others feared his presence, you remained unfazed, as if understanding the weight of his existence in a way no one else could.

“You are a marvel,” he once told you, watching as the moonlight illuminated the rough texture of your skin. “A living remnant of an era lost to time. Do you ever wonder what it would be like, to walk among those who came before you?”

You blinked at him, your gaze thoughtful. “Sometimes. But I think I belong here, now. With you.”

Malleus smiled at that, a rare and genuine expression of happiness. From then on, your bond only deepened.

Malleus was ever the gentleman, treating you with the same regal care he gave to all things he cherished. When you walked together, he matched your stride, his presence a steady shadow beside you. He never balked at your claws or the sharp edges of your form; instead, he traced them with reverence, as though committing every ridge and scale to memory.

You weren’t soft, not in the way humans were. But Malleus never sought softness in you,he sought the warmth of your companionship, the quiet strength of your presence. He was the prince of a mighty lineage, a dragon feared and revered, yet with you, he could simply be Malleus.

When others gawked, he simply raised an unimpressed brow. When someone dared to mock, they found themselves at the mercy of his sharp gaze, their words dying in their throat before they could utter another insult. It wasn’t that Malleus needed to defend you,you were more than capable of that yourself but he did it anyway, because to him, you were precious.

There were moments of quiet intimacy, ones where words were unnecessary. Malleus would rest his hand against your own, feeling the pulse of life beneath your skin. He would brush his fingers over the curve of your nose his touch feather-light, as if honoring the history etched into your being.

And then there were the playful moments, the ones where he let himself indulge in the joy of simply being with you. He found great amusement in watching you react to new things,especially the modern quirks of the world you now lived in. The way your eyes lit up at glowing trinkets, the way you tilted your head in confusion at the oddities of technology,it delighted him more than he cared to admit.

One night,he reached for your hand, clasping it gently in his own. His grip was cool, steady, a reminder that though time may move ever forward, some things remained unchanging.

“You are with me,” he murmured. “And I am with you.”

And in that moment, with the night as your witness and the stars burning like ancient memories above you, you knew that no matter how much time passed, you would never truly be alone again.

English is not my first language !

[pukefactory]

I need more Yandere dandy …..I beg….

-ˋˏ ༻ SO WHAT IF IT'S JUST US ༺ ˎˊ

✿ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Yandere Dandy X Reader

✿ Character(s): Dandicus Dancifer (Dandy’s World)

✿ Genre: Headcannons, SFW

✿ Warning(s): Abusive Behaviour (The Typical Yandere Behaviour Tropes

✿ Image Credits: @lavendergalactic

❀ Dandy always greets you with his usual cheery enthusiasm, but there’s something off about the way he lingers on your name. He says it like it’s his, like you’re his. And when you try to leave the shop without buying anything, that enthusiasm falters just a little too much. “Going so soon? But you just got here! Don’t tell me you’re trying to run away from me, friend.”

❀ At first, you thought it was just a coincidence—running into Dandy outside of his shop, his chipper voice ringing out before you even saw him. But then it kept happening. In places he shouldn’t be. “Oh, fancy meeting you here! What a delightful surprise!” His wide, unblinking stare tells you it’s anything but a surprise.

❀ The more you try to avoid Dandy, the more… difficult it becomes. The shop doors always seem to close on their own, trapping you inside just a little longer each time. “Oh dear! Looks like something’s jammed. Guess you’re stuck with me for a bit, huh?” His petals shake with laughter, but his grip on your wrist is a little too firm.

❀ You once tried to spend your tapes elsewhere. Big mistake. Dandy didn’t say anything at first, but his whole shop seemed… colder. The next time you visited, he was waiting. Not at his usual spot. Right at the entrance. “Oh, friend,” he cooed, his grin stretched a little too wide. “Tell me… where did all your tapes go?”

❀ One day, you wake up to find something strange waiting for you—a plush version of Dandy, complete with bright petals and his stitched-on smile. No note. No explanation. But when you squeeze it, a chipper voicebox crackles to life: “Now you’ll always have me close! Hehe!”

❀ If someone else tries to take your attention away from him? Oh, they won’t last long. No, Dandy doesn’t hurt them, but he makes sure they get the message. A shopkeeper with all the best supplies can be an awfully inconvenient enemy. Suddenly, your other allies start running out of resources, getting caught in unfortunate circumstances. And through it all, Dandy just smiles.

❀ You make the mistake of brushing him off one too many times. The next time you visit, he’s already waiting for you, not moving, not blinking. “…Where have you been?” It’s not his usual chipper tone. It’s low. Hurt. You try to leave, but his voice booms through the shop: “DON’T IGNORE ME.” The room feels like it’s closing in.

❀ Dandy doesn’t like this sinking feeling in his chest, this fear gnawing at him when you’re away for too long. “We’re friends. The best of friends. Right? You’d never leave me, right?” His grip on your shoulders is too tight. He’s smiling, but his pupils are pinpricks. “Say it. Say it.”

❀ Every time you need something—anything—Dandy always has it ready, as if he knew you’d need it. “Oh wow! What a coincidence! It’s almost like I can read your mind! Hehehe… wouldn’t that be funny?” The worst part? You’re starting to wonder if he actually can.

❀ One day, you try to run. You don’t even say goodbye. But you don’t make it far. The walls start shifting. The world bends around you, turning you back toward him. Dandy is already waiting. “Oh, silly! You can’t leave me.” He giggles, his head tilting too far to the side. “You’ll understand soon enough! You and I? We’re meant to be together.”

[moonstruckme]

hii idk if ur taking requests but can u write sth with rockstar!remus who’s like full of adrenaline after a shkw and just kisses r ☹️☹️ the others wont let them be LOLLL😭😭😭 hope ur having an amazing day 💘

You have an amazing day too !

rockstar!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 643 words

James all but sprints off the stage, as he always does, working off his post-show adrenaline the best way he knows how. His routine seems unaltered by the fact that this is the biggest show the boys have played yet, but you don’t suppose he can really kick it into a higher gear than it already is. It’s also entertaining for the rest of you, watching him hurdle over sound equipment and careen past frightened-looking crew members before calling a “sorry!” behind him. 

You know to expect Remus behind him, leaving the stage at a slower pace while Sirius stays and soaks up the energy for as long as he can before someone physically drags him off, but you’re not expecting the unusual energy about your boyfriend when he comes in. 

Remus is crackling, the exact sound of when he plugs his bass into the amp but around him like an aura. Your heart kicks in your chest. 

You beam at him, holding up the small bouquet you’d impulse-bought at a stand a few blocks from the venue. You feel a bit silly, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. 

He lets out a breathy little laugh at the sight of you and shakes his head as he takes two long strides, grasping your hips and pressing you into the wall. 

The flowers are instantly forgotten. Remus’ mouth is warm and insistent on yours, his knee pushing in between your legs and his nose pressed into your cheek. You don’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until he breaks the kiss. 

He sets both hands on your cheeks. There are crew members buzzing around you, and the crowd is still thrumming outside, and somewhere James is talking loudly, but Remus’ face is the only thing in the world. Scarred and sweaty and smiling at you. 

“Great show,” you scrape out. 

Another short laugh. If you didn’t know better, you’d say your boyfriend was giddy. “Yeah?” He gives you another kiss, shorter but still shock-happy. His lips stay curved against yours. “I thought so,” he admits, a bit softer, like a secret. 

You lower your voice to match. “You were incredible.” 

Remus grins even bigger, brilliant and totally unlike himself. He’s practically glowing. 

“Remus,” Sirius shouts, prancing toward the both of you with his usual regard for private intimacy, “if you’d pause in fondling your girlfriend, James says we’ve got a group out back who wants autographs.” 

Remus drops his forehead to yours, his disbelieving puff of air tickling over your nose. You pet down the hairs at his nape. 

“Oh, are these for us?” Sirius sounds delighted. Remus doesn’t take the bait, but you do, turning to find him looking at the flowers hanging limply from your grasp. “Doll, you shouldn’t have!”

“How could I resist,” you play along, letting go of Remus to ease one of the stems out from the rest. Sirius takes it from you happily. “They go so well with your outfits.” 

“More Remus’ than ours,” James notes, coming over. He’s even sweatier than the other two, but his excess energy seems mostly spent, “but I’m sure that’s only coincidence.” 

“Certainly,” Sirius agrees. “She’d never pick favorites. Say, babe, want me to sign something of yours?”

“She’s good,” Remus answers for you, tugging you closer and touching his lips to your brow. “I’ve got this one.” 

“I’ll bet you do.” James is grinning. He prods Remus’ shoulder, encouraging you both to follow him towards where the fans are waiting. “She may not pick favorites, but you will, is that right?” 

“Enough,” Remus says, but he’s still too happy to work up any real rancor. 

“Oh, I already know you’re gonna get an extra special autograph, doll,” Sirius teases. Your face starts to heat. “Likely when we see you tomorrow, he’ll have left you some even darker than a marker could do—” 

“Enough.”