#i mean you can do these things to my ocs and not be afraid

[nwarrior777]

yo can I draw your oc's?

omg sure!!!!! 😳 idk how did you found them in this blog, it became kinda messy and i didn't draw any in a while, but i will be very happy to see fanart???

qwq

[yooniivrse]

face masks | myg

summary. in which your presence is enough to lighten his toughest days—even if it means resorting to face masks at midnight.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff, angst if u squint

word count: 1.9k

content/warnings: yoongi's having a bad day / but ofc oc makes him feel better / they do face masks together :3 / yoongi loves oc so much it hurts my heart </3

notes: as promised, i'm releasing a drabble before i move on to a slightly longer work (maybe? i'm going wherever the wind takes me atp). i really like this one, and i hope you guys like it too :) as always, likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback are so greatly appreciated!

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main masterlist

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“Baby?”

Yoongi’s voice is almost lost to the steady stream of water pelting the shower floor. Through the steam and the hazy glass, your figure is a blurred silhouette, reaching out to turn off the faucet.

“Yoongi?” You peek around the half-opaque shower screen, your face lighting up with a warm smile the moment you see him. “You’re home early.”

“Mhm. Missed you,” he mumbles, offering no further explanation. In one swift motion, he pulls off his hoodie and lets it fall to the tiled floor. His pants and boxers follow, and in no time, he’s stepping into the shower beside you.

“Hi,” you whisper softly as his arms wrap around your body, pulling you close.

“Hi,” he replies, though his voice carries a heavy weight of exhaustion. You lift your hands to cup his cheeks, concern etching across your features as you look into his eyes.

It’s not just his voice that betrays his tiredness—dark shadows linger under his drooping eyes, and even his embrace feels a little stiff.

“Hey. You okay?” you ask gently, your thumb tracing the soft curve of his cheek. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“Bad day,” he admits with a sigh, his breath warm against your skin. “And I’m really tired.”

Before you can voice your worries, he presses his lips to yours. Slowly, as you wrap your arms around his neck and return the kiss, you feel his tension start to melt away. His body softens against yours, the weight of the day momentarily forgotten as he leans into your warmth.

He rests his head in the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around you as if afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. You press a soft kiss to his shoulder, a silent reassurance that you're there, right with him.

Although worries linger in your mind, you push them aside, focusing instead on the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. You bring down a hand to trace the ink etched onto his arm, tracing the pigment with the pad of your thumb.

“I love you,” you whisper softly.

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, but his arms squeeze you a little tighter. You giggle at the silent gesture, and the sound seems to lift his spirits—his lips curve into a small smile, mirroring yours as they press against your skin.

“Let’s get washed up, yeah?” you suggest softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

Yoongi lifts his head, his tired eyes meeting yours, and he gives a small nod. You kiss him again, tenderly, before turning the shower back on, hoping the warm water will wash away the stress weighing down on his shoulders.

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Yoongi’s hands rest lazily on your hips as you carefully work a pigmented face mask across his skin, your fingers tracing delicate patterns.

When you first suggested that skincare might help take his mind off things, he had been sceptical. But he couldn’t say no, not with you standing in front of him, those beautiful eyes of yours practically begging him to agree.

And now, as you gently massage the mask into his skin, he has to admit—it’s working. Whether it’s the soothing sensation of the products or simply the fact that it’s you applying them, he feels a little lighter. The weight on his shoulders, though still present, feels more bearable.

“Are you sure this stuff actually works, love?” he asks.

You shrug, flashing him a playful grin. “Nope.”

A smile tugs at Yoongi’s lips despite himself. “Right. So, remind me again why we’re doing this?”

“It’s the process that matters,” you tease. “It’s supposed to feel therapeutic, you know?”

Yoongi gives you a questioning look, cocking an eyebrow, but there’s a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Therapeutic, huh? Do I look refreshed yet?”

“You tell me,” you say with a playful smirk. "Don’t you feel a little more relaxed?"

He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “A little,” he confesses, his voice filled with affection.

As the light hearted banter fades into comfortable silence, you become aware of his gaze lingering on you. He carefully watches the way your eyelashes flutter every time you blink, and listens to the rhythm of your steady breathing.

Yoongi knows your features as intimately as the back of his hand—the curve of your lips, the delicate slope of your nose, the little furrow between your brows when you're focused. Yet, he can’t stop staring, committing every detail to memory as if he hasn’t spent countless sleepless nights doing the exact same thing, watching you breathe as you slept beside him.

Still, even now, you’re his favourite sight in the world.

Yoongi’s fingers tighten slightly on your waist, his eyes still fixed on you, his thoughts drifting. He stays silent for a while, just watching you with a gentle smile tugging at his lips. You’re so focused, applying the skincare with such delicate precision, and it makes his heart swell in his chest.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask, breaking the silence with a soft laugh, your cheeks flushing slightly under his gaze.

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. “You’re beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, though the warmth of his words makes your heart flutter. “We're both covered in clay face masks, babe. I probably look just as ridiculous.”

He chuckles softly. “You could never look ridiculous to me.”

You shake your head at him, a smile curling on your lips. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe,” he admits, that teasing smile on his face again. “But it’s true.” He reaches up, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead before resting it back on your hip. "You make everything better, even this... weird skincare stuff."

His words are so genuine, so full of affection, that it leaves a warmth spreading through your chest. You can’t help but feel the love radiating from him; a quiet but deep kind of love.

As you finish smoothing the last bit of the mask onto his face, you step back to admire your work. “There. Perfect.”

Yoongi looks at you, his face now completely coated in the clay mask. “Perfect, huh?” He glances at himself in the mirror and then back at you, a laugh bubbling up in his chest. “We look like we belong in some kind of alien movie.”

You can’t help but laugh with him, the sound bright and contagious. “We do look a bit silly, don’t we?”

“A bit?” he says, still chuckling. “We look like we’re about to storm Area 51.”

You burst into laughter again, leaning into him as the ridiculousness of it all sinks in. “Well, I think we look cute,” you say between giggles, wiping a stray bit of clay from his cheek.

Yoongi watches you laugh, the sound of your joy lighting up the room. His heart feels a little lighter with every laugh that escapes your lips, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems so far away. It’s in moments like these that he’s reminded just how much he loves you—not just for the big things, but for these quiet, ordinary moments, where all that exists is the two of you and the silly little routines that bring you closer together.

“You make everything better, you know that?” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes, dark and gentle, lock with yours, and his hand comes up to rest on your cheek.

You blink up at him, a little taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. “I just put a bunch of skincare on you. Not exactly a grand gesture,” you tease, trying to keep the moment light, though your heart flutters at the sincerity in his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi says, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You always know how to make me feel better, even when I’m in my head or having the worst day.” His voice catches slightly, and for a second, he seems to be weighing his words before continuing. “I don’t always say it, but I’m so grateful for you… for everything you do.”

The room falls quiet again, the laughter from earlier replaced by a soft, intimate silence. His words hang in the air, filled with a depth that makes your heart swell. You reach up to cover his hand with yours, your thumb brushing over his knuckles as you look at him with the same sincerity he’s offering you.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you whisper, your voice soft but steady. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you.”

He lets out a small, almost breathless laugh, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “Sometimes I just don’t feel like I deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” you protest gently. “You deserve all the love in the world.”

Yoongi pulls you closer, his forehead almost pressing against yours, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. The warmth of his breath mixes with yours, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart against your chest.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves are sacred. “More than I can ever say.”

You smile at him, your hand reaching up to gently trace the line of his jaw. “I know. And I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of you, tangled in each other’s arms, surrounded by the warmth of your shared love. The silliness of the face masks and the laughter from earlier all feel like part of this intricate, beautiful dance you’ve built together—one that Yoongi wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

Eventually, the face masks begin to dry, cracking slightly as you both try to contain your smiles. Yoongi glances at himself in the mirror and then back at you, his expression lightening again.

“Well,” he says, his voice playful once more, “I think I’m cracking under the pressure here.”

You giggle, running your thumb along his cheek, watching as the clay flakes away under your touch. “I think it’s time to rinse this off.”

As you both move toward the sink, Yoongi catches your hand, pulling you back for a brief moment. His eyes meet yours, softer than ever. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice full of gratitude that words can barely contain.

“For what?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“For being here. For always being here.” His gaze drops for a second as if he’s gathering his thoughts. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t say it enough, but you… you’re everything to me.”

You smile, your heart swelling with emotion. “I’ll always be here, Yoongi. Always.”

He nods, and as the two of you finally start washing off the face masks, he can’t help but reflect on just how lucky he is. In a world that often feels chaotic and overwhelming, you are his constant. You’re the person who brings him peace, who makes the bad days feel bearable and the good days even better.

And as he watches the remnants of the mask swirl down the drain, he silently promises himself that he will always treasure moments like these—silly, simple, and full of love. Because in the end, it’s these moments that matter the most; the ones that remind him just how grateful he is to have you in his life.

[2hightocare]

We’re jk oc deprived 😭😭😭

Any new Drabble ?

noooo I can’t seem to finish any of my works for them, there’s only like prompts of barely 500 words here’s sum for you guys🥳🥳🥳🥳

1.

“Do you guys have triple extra-large condoms?”

“Your dick is not that big, oh please,” Yoongi bursts out laughing, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands. You can’t help but snort softly as Lora tries to figure out how many inches triple extra-large would be using her hands.

“How is that possible..?” Jimin says, laying his head down on the hotel room bed beside Taehyung, who’s been snoring away since you all arrived.

“Just because you have a small dick doesn’t mean I do,” Jungkook retorts, crossing his arms and leaning against the colorful wall of the room.

You’re all in Las Vegas, celebrating Jungkook’s and your three-year wedding anniversary. It was a spontaneous trip planned just a few hours before catching the earliest plane. None of you are new to Vegas, Taehyung, who’s lacking enthusiasm. The moment he steps foot in your and Jungkook’s hotel room, he knocks out.

The room has become the main hangout spot for everyone.

“I aspire to be as delusional as Kook,” Ari jokes from her spot on the floor in front of the mirror, curling her hair. The group bursts out laughing as Jungkook rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around your neck from behind, joining in the laughter.

Jungkook’s strong personality is one of the things that drew you to him. He always knows how to make you laugh, no matter the situation, with his random remarks and perfect timing.

2.

“I think this is the dumbest thing ever,” Jungkook sighs, bouncing his leg where Iseul is sitting, sucking on her pink pacifier. Her two small pigtails bounce with each movement of your husband’s leg.

“She needs them, they’re literally mandatory, baby,” you lay your head on his shoulder, glancing around the clinic and noticing a brunette mom making googly eyes at your husband. Jungkook, too worried about his daughter, doesn’t even notice.

“I know, but do you not hear all the babies crying?” Jungkook says, watching Iseul giggle at his worried expression. “I’m afraid you’re worrying more than her,” you laugh, squeezing Iseul’s cheeks, making her squirm in Jungkook’s lap. “Aren’t you so cute, huh?” You coo, eliciting giggles from Iseul.

“Oh no,” Iseul pouts, pointing to the pacifier on the ground. “Oh no, it’s right, princess,” Jungkook bends over, picking up the pink pacifier and passing it to you. Iseul reaches for it eagerly, but you scrunch your face, sticking out your tongue. “Yuck,” you say, and Iseul mimics you, making Jungkook laugh at her reaction. “God, can’t believe I made such a perfect offspring,” Jungkook exclaims, showering Iseul’s face with kisses, which only makes her laugh more.

“You did not just call her offspring,” you gasp, a snort slipping past your mouth, making Jungkook laugh loudly before quieting down, realizing where you are. “Jeon Iseul?” The door opens, revealing a woman, likely the doctor’s assistant.

You and Jungkook immediately stand up, making your way to her. “Iseul?” she asks, and you confirm with a smile, interlocking your fingers with your husband’s as he holds Iseul on his other arm.

“Okay, follow me,” she says, leading you through a hallway adorned with pastel colors and animals painted on the walls, catching Iseul’s attention as she points and babbles.

“Gee-raffe!” she babbles, her baby teeth showing as she smiles at the animals. “Aw, she’s the cutest,” the assistant remarks, turning to give a warm smile to your daughter. She opens a sliding door with a giant elephant in the middle, leading you inside.

“Take a seat. Whoever’s going to hold her, please sit there,” she points to the big chair in the middle of the room. Jungkook sits, placing Iseul on his lap and adjusting her dress.

“Okay, can you tell me her birthday?” the assistant asks. “November 10th, 2022,” you answer, adjusting your cap as Jungkook pokes Iseul’s cheek.

“Okay, the doctor will be here in a few. Bye, Iseul. Nice meeting you,” she waves at your daughter, who waves back before the assistant exits the room.

3.

“I want another one,” Jungkook whines, attacking your neck with kisses. “Baby, no,” you moan as he sucks and nips, leaving red marks on your throat.

“Please, give me another one,” your husband pouts, finally looking at you. His tattooed hand holds the base of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss as he smiles into it, making your teeth clash.

The kiss is messy, strings of saliva connecting between you both each time you separate to catch your breath. Jungkook bites your lip, making you moan into his mouth, to which he replies with a cocky smile.

“I’ll fuck you so good, baby, please,” Jungkook whines between kisses. “Please,” kiss. “Please,” another kiss. “Please,” and another.

“We can’t,” you reply between kisses. “Why the fuck not? We can do them right now,” Jungkook says, pulling you closer by your throat.

Jungkook has been wanting another kid, but as much as you want to say ‘fuck it’ and do it, you just couldn’t at the moment. You’ve been too busy with school, and the same goes for Jungkook with work, but he didn’t seem to think it through. He wanted another mini you, turning the house upside down alongside Iseul.

“Please, Iseul would love to have a brother… or sister,” he adds late, causing you to side-eye him, which only makes him smile as he nestles into your neck.

“No babies yet, let’s wait,” you happily sigh as he places a kiss on your collarbone, twirling a strand of your hair.

“So we’re not fucking?” Jungkook peeks up with a grin as you burst out laughing. “Not without protection,” you scratch the back of his head, making him moan before he rests his head on your lap, looking up at you with a smile.

“I see how it is,” you joke as you feel him shift in your arms before laying his head on your lap. “What?” you ask, placing your small palm over his face before moving it around. Jungkook sticks his tongue out, licking your palm, which has you quickly retrieving your hand.

“Ew, you’re nasty,” you scrunch your nose as he reaches for your hair, pulling gently.

“That’s nasty? You literally asked me to spit in your mo—,” before he could finish, you place your palm over his mouth again, shutting him up as his eyes widen with amusement.

“Shush,” a small giggle leaves your lips as you blush like a high school girl. You’ve known Jungkook for over ten years, and till this day, he has you giggling and kicking your feet whenever he looks at you.

“I miss your lip piercing,” you pout, squishing his cheeks with your hand as he laughs, poking your belly button with his pinky. “I do too, but Iseul literally ripped my shit,” he says, a pained expression on his face as he remembers his daughter pulling on the lip piercing with incredible force.

“Is that why you took out your ear ones too?” you ask, biting your lower lip as your finger plays with his pierced earlobe. He nods, his eyes fluttering closed as your fingers trace along his perfectly carved eyebrows.

“Well, I miss them,” you pout, tracing the outline of his lips.

“I’ll put them back on tomorrow,” he winks, making you roll your eyes before pinching his lips together.

4.

“I still can’t believe you guys won’t add me to the group chat,” Jungkook whines, leaning his head on your shoulder and looking up at you with hopeful eyes.

“It’s only girls, so no,” Eunbi says, finishing braiding her thick blonde hair as Jungkook sends her a dirty look, which she returns.

“Namjoon is on it?” Your husband continues poking your cheek, as if that would make you add him to the group chat. But only if he knew that you weren’t even admin, and that it was Eunbi’s job to begin with.

“He’s part of the girls. He just gets us,” you give him an apologetic look, which he rolls his eyes at before scooting to the furthest edge of the couch and crossing his arms.

[ganondoodle]

(OC Lore and design time!)

(it got longer again ... sorry ... idk how to make things short, i just need to talk, but i guess if you can read the written stuff in the pic thats the barest bare bones of what i wrote here)

i was asked what new lore story stuff i had thought about that made me sad which i mentioned a bit ago, and while that is too hard to explain given all the missing context i thought i could at least talk about lore having to do with it :D

so, (Lord) Eadrya is one of my fav OCs (big blue lad, here a rough sketch in humanoid form) they are both one of if not THE most powerful demon alive and the most battle trained;

at the mid point of the story the demon world gets invaded by the celestials (the angel inspired things i talked about in the previous lore post with Xaror) and Shargon, as the king, should be their first and only frontline, but at this point his life is only being sustained by maschinery after being mortally wounded, he cannot fight (he realizes what is going on, rips himself off the maschinery to get at least his youngest child to safety, barely managing it before dying- the guardian, the demons god, takes over his body to attempt to fight against the celestials but cant keep itself alive long enough since its host is already dead) Eadrya takes the role of the frontline fighter (despite being very full of themselves and aggressive they care about their 'job' of protecting their own, also giving them the chance to show off just how strong they are); the fight was going well for them all things considered, but when the guardian activates it drains the power of all elemental lords (which Eadrya is one of, and since they have the most strength it also takes the most from them), so much so that they lose the fight and suffer deadly wounds (the worst being a spear through the chest made of a material that grows hard, root-like formations when in contact with demonic blood like a fungus but worse, also stopping any self healing processes) after the guardian falls apart it creates a huge shockwave of energy that stuns every living thing within a certain distance and possibly more-

Eadrya (in true demon form, so like a blue whale in size at least) was likely taken through an active gateway to the human world in a large tidal wave also created by the guardians fall; they wash up in the harbor of a small secluded village, the head of which is 'lady 13'; although never having seen a demon before and everyone being afraid (largely thinking its a strange hurt animal, only she suspected otherwise), they still gather all villagers to pull out the celestial spear, which is diffcult and brutal given that its already taken root, but the village lacked both knowledge and means to help any other way- doing so damaged their heart which is how they were able to collect samples of all three demonic blood types ('normal' -red like humans-, energy -essentially purely magic- and heartblood -highly concentrated energy only found within the heart of a demon and the only one to contain genetic material) (this is the start of Eadryas character arc, having to deal with the fact that their world is likely destroyed, them failing what they didnt think they could fail, having lost a battle so badly (even if not really their fault) for the first time and not knowing if literally anyone else has survived .. also being now stuck in the human world, which they dont like)

Lady 13 (placeholder name? stands for experiment 13) is a human that was tricked by demon hunters to enroll into a series of experiments trying to create hybrids of demons and humans, which they hoped would be powerful and easily controllable tools for their endeavours, though the two are inherently not compatible, they tried grafting body parts of demons on humans to make them compatible- all experiments failed except for her, more or less, though she never got to see the hybrid she carried and was then told it had died too, they threw her out believing she wouldnt survive much longer either and all such experiments were cancelled due to the high cost of human life, research material (demons are still rare) and upkeep with no successful results Lady 13 survived though (perhaps even via the pirates picking her up?) and she ended up living in said small village far away, hiding her half demonic body, though most know there soemthing 'wrong' with her (her being this tall when it doesnt fit the rest for one), only few know the full extent; she enjoys the life she has now, perhaps on the more poor side but safer and more loved than ever before; she largely lead the efforts to try and help Eadrya when they ended up in the harbor, though there wasnt that much anyone could do it was still enough- they leave immediately after waking up, but return after really having nowhere to go and struggling to deal with everything that has happened; over time (probably years) they start to open up towards the people there (though not .. very much) enough to get rather close with Lady 13 too- she actually falls madly in love but after Eadrya (extremely aro/ace) rejects all her attempts quite clearly she respects their boundaries

However, after hearing news of potential demon sightings Eadrya decides to leave in hopes of not being the last demon left after all; Lady 13 then decides to reveal her secret to them (though hearing and seeing what lengths hunters would go to for their experiments makes them absolutely seething with rage- she insists on not being out for revenge) and asks if they would be willing to donate a small amount of heartblood; shes always wanted to be a mother but is now incompatible with humans too- through things she picked up back at the experiments facillity, hers and her doctors research she is sure that is all that is needed, she dares to ask since she does not know when, if ever, she will meet another demon, much less one she could actually trust enough for this though Eadrya hesitates (why would she want to go through the same thing again that didnt work and threatened her life, if it does work, do they want to be involved with any of this? what if hunters find out it worked after all?) but after her ensuring that they would have no part in it other than giving up a little blood and would not be considered a parent in any way, nor made responsible for anything that might happen to her, but considering it all in the end they agree to it

only for her to reveal shes had a small bottle of it already, along with multiple samples of the other types, which she collected when Eadrya was bleeding out into the harbor not knowing if they will survive, though not wanting to make use of it without their consent either way (they are actuallly rather touched by this)

alot later the main group returns here and it turns out to have worked (though she is unable to walk/bedridden for a long while bc it did alot of damage to her body, which can heal since its demons parts, but only really slowly bc she does not have a full functioning system and no demonic blood of her own -she uses the other samples for the healing process-) though its a little awkward to explain, especially considering that 13.1 took alot after Eadrya xD (their theory as to why it worked so "well" that time is that even though the sample was already taken, them giving their consent for it still made it less likely to be rejected; demons dont need partners to have offspring, and all can do it, they just have to decide to- so them agreeing to it, even though its long been outside their body, still had an effect on the blood sample)

[evilminji]

You know my Crechelings Are Possessed post?

What if it was just the one? A SI-OC or OC?

Dying and going THROUGH the Force? I will attest, is GONNA have side effects. You're gonna end up... weird. Not Normal for a Force Sensitive. Kinda like Anikin tbh. A bit TOO in tune. A bit TOO aware. Connected.

As though your brain was cracked open 5+ dimensionally, to the Whole Of Creation that IS the Force and it kinda fucked you up a bit. Cause as A Luminous Force Being? You were fine! Energy and light! But as MATTER? Well...

Matter breaks.

Can withstand only so much.

We are LIMITED by our matter, crude and flawed as it is. Beloved as it may be.

Cause make no mistake! You aren't BROKEN. But you are CHANGED. There were a series of clear, monumentous, and "life" altering events back to back here! Death, a traumatizing thing no matter HOW peaceful it may have been. And in all likelihood? It was NOT a peaceful end. It probably? Hurt. Was frightening. Abrupt. There is grief and hurt there. Fear.

Then the trauma of being separated from everyone we have ever known. Without closure. For them OR us. Our empathy would remind us of their suffering. That they do NOT know we are okay. That we have no way to TELL them we are. This too, is trauma. But? Worse?

Is the Force.

We? Are no Jedi. Not yet. We are confused. Lost and do not understand. It is FOREIGN to us. An outside will that we cannot escape. Where are our gods? The death we expected? The afterlife we assumed we would meet? It's INSIDE US. It IS US. We are IT. We don't know where we are and everything feels?

E N D L E S S .

Can force ghosts even cry? Weep, terrified and overwhelmed? Afraid? Simply BRINGING us to them would not impart understanding. And imparting understanding? Well... we know it to be not OF us? To be inflicted. An invasion. The Force is not cruel. But! Importantly! It is not and has never BEEN? Mortal.

Blue and Orange morality is at play. How do you explain to a formless, infinite, all knowing, all powerful God Force? The concept of "boundaries"? Limits? There is GOOD to be done. It's helping you! Pushing love and comfort! Surely that should work? Why is that not working? It is... confused. Not MADE for such contemplations.

This too, is Trauma. Being held in the hands of a God. Benevolent does not mean SAFE. Does not mean you will not be unharmed. Just... that they do not MEAN to harm you.

Or have very Good Reasons for why they "Must".

The Force Ghosts help. They are patient in the way only old Master's could be. Kind. They understand. Have taught. And so? Though they are quite confused, they understand you struggle to release your fear. Explaining things helps. Talking helps. And you find peace.

Not the afterlife you EXPECTED, but not terrible.

Which... of course, is when once again things change.

Birth, Life, these TOO, are Trauma. You were FREE. No more pain. No aches. No hunger, no thirst, no exhaustion. Connection deeper then this broken and flawed matter could ever hope to achieve. The world has gone SILENT. Muffled. Like solitary confinement for the SOUL.

Only in meditation, are you FREE.

Your parents can't handle you. You grieve for them. For the child they should have had. Look around the nursery, so filled with excitement and love, and feel nothing but the urge to weep. You are a stillborn, brought to life. A child stolen. They deserved better then this. Even as you can not be anything but what you ARE? What of THEIR sorrow? Their confusion and futures now impossible?

You love them. They are not yours. Will never tryely be your parents, for all they brought you into this world. But oh, Oh, you love these poor grieving souls. Wish it had not been you. That they could have had the child they were so excited to love. You... you are sorry. So, so sorry.

They take you to the Temple. You guild them to a child in need, first. Hope they will be happy.

You do not look back.

They put you in a Creche with others just as "Unusually Strong" in the Force. Is that Grogu? Hi Grogu. Who are the rest of you? The room is quite. Everyone talking loudly in the Force, instead. It would be deafening for the more delicate younglings. They don't have the shields for it yet. The children here SHOUT without meaning too, like standing at a rock concert.

Visions are a constant thing. Unusual Force gifts and manifestations. Illirrrska can see auras. Doesn't know what they MEAN, mind you, and xe sees them on EVERYTHING that lives, but still! Xey are well on xeir way to figuring it out. (Xey have a holo document cataloging the colors, you see.)

You fit right in! With your Tiny Herald Of Death To Come nature. Your Creche mates believe you. The adults? Have grown numb. Used to filtering. Tiny younglings with Too Much Force flowing through them? Are horrors. Viscerally unsettling. Unnatural.

Even to the Jedi.

But! They REFUSE to treat children with such caution and distain. Hold them at an arms length out of FEAR. So they mentally filter. "That's nice dear, horrifying concepts and brain melting secrets, mmmhmmm. Eat your pudding. Who wants to play float ball~‽ Yaaaaaay!"

No one will listen. Future in motion. But really, of course it is. You are no fool.

However... tell me, Master Jedi. Does it matter? If we die one step to the right as apposed to the left? Because you would not LISTEN when the Force spoke? The future only changes when you ACT. Not when you REFUSE too. Out of FEAR. Out of IGNORANCE. Out of ATTACHMENT.

And make no mistake, you ARE attached. Clinging so hard to your beliefs that you could not POSSIBLY be wrong. Could not POSSIBLY be fallible, be fooled by the Dark Side and lead astray, that you have turned your back on the very Tennants of the Code itself.

What is more important? Tradition or the Force? The innocent or the way things were? Tell me, what is the will of the Force... and what is Fear? Convenience? The little moral compromises that damn? Who do you serve, Master Jedi? And ARE you serving them?

Perhaps you should meditate.

Just???

This Tiny Cryptid Crecheling? That speaks like a wizened old Master? Feels like a tiny star in the Force? Not a cute lil ball of light. A FUCKING STAR. Giant ball of gas in space, a burning ball of light, THAT kind of star! But... small? Person shaped. It's like meditating next to a Force Nexus.

They just? Hand you things. Or sabotage random ships. Literally just FUCKING SHOT a knight once, for no clear reason! All they would say is "it's not like you'll actually listen. This is the only way." What? Of COURSE WE'LL LISTEN! (No. They won't. Just ask Sifo. Ask Obi-Wan. The Sith, fear, and hubris have eroded the Jedi from within.)

The full blown confidence of an adult? Combined with the creepy "oh god. They're in THE VENTS!!!" Nature of highly force sensitive Crechelings?

Magnificent~☆

They can see into your SOUL. Are holding a toddler that squirms around, wiggles up to whisper in their ear, gets a nod, only for YOU to be somberly informed that your second in command (a life long friend) has betrayed you. Avoid wearing red. You will die on a Friday. By the way, they can't reach the counter... could you hand them those snacks?

One of the other one speaks to trees.

The trees SPEAK BACK.

Prophecy. Fuckin Terrifying Prophecy EVERYWHERE.

Did YOU want to know that your grandson will grow up to kill his brother? No? Too bad! Not even married yet? ALSO TOO BAD! Have FUN with that knowledge! How about learning that there is horrific suffering planets away? No. No there ISN'T anything you can do about it. Just... here! Have some Deeply Cursed Knowledge. From a toddler. Now! They're gonna go eat grass~☆

The appear and disappear at random. Climb the walls. Fuckin FLOAT. The Force itself is their imaginary friend! They literally consult it over PUDDING CHOICES. Sometimes? They talk in perfect synchronization, like a hive mind. Stare without blinking. One moment they are perfectly normal children... the next? Like PUPPETS.

Tiny avatars. Through which SOMETHING GREATER speaks. They KNOW, not think, KNOW what they need to do. You can not convince them. Trying just makes you an obstacle to be overcome.

They are four.

Toddlers and children. Younglings. Initiates!

I just? Want there to be? A portion of Deeply Cursed/Possessed Crechelings? That are just LIKE that. Loved regardless. Nothing wrong with them. They're just too strong for their lil bitty baby brains. Once they learn to shield better? It'll balance out. Anikin would have gone there, had he been found young.

It'd be hilarious? If what saves the galaxy? Is someone finally REMEMBERING that? And thinking to themselves?

"Hey, you know what might be good for that Skywalker kid? Being exposed to more Force Sensitives that GET him. We should put him on Cursed Crechelings duty for a bit." And??

Anikin? Is in LOVE? They are all so SMOL an NORMAL? Finally! Jedi who aren't EMOTIONALLY DISTANT! Shielded? What do mean "Shielded"? No I'm not shouting all the time! This is my normal speaking voice! *Skywalker confusion as he cuddles babies*

Cause like? He too? Spoke in horrifying prophecy? Was vaguely Anti-christ-y? Did the (o.o) see into your sooooooul stare? So WHAT? That's just how babies ARE!

.....what do you MEAN "no"?

Every day, throwing open Obi-Wan's poor, slowly being destroyed, front door like "Master! Did you know I am AN OUTLIER!? And REALLY LOUD!? Other people aren't emotionally crippled psychopaths, they're just really REALLY quite compared to me!!" "Ah. Yes, Anikin, please. Maybe say that LOUDER. I don't think the ENTIRE temple quite heard you... -_- "

Just?? Anikin Skywalker! And his Hoard of Creepy Possessed Crechelings that are TOTALLY NORMAL, Guys! All kids are like this! He's a GREAT role model and baby sitting! Yeah, it's the Clone wars, and no, he has NO idea how the entire Creche got onto the ship... but hey! Enrichment! That's good for them, right?

(^-^) (o.o) (|o.o|) (o,o) (o-o) (|o,o|)

*clones look from their general, to the tiny unblinking magic jedi babies, back to their general* s-sure?

@legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @leftnotright @starwarsblr

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

death island leon headcannons with his s/o??

HI babies, I’ve been trying to like keep up with requests and such and i stg i have had so much writing inspiration that i start writing to many things at once.

Here are some DI!Leon s/o headcanons!!

DISCLAIMER!! this is 18+ ONLY, please do not interact with my blog if you are underaged or don’t have age indicator in your bio!! thank you!!

DI!Leon x GN reader

not spell checked i’m sorry 💔

————————————————————————

- He is DEFINITELY sleepy all the time. Finally getting to see him after work always gets you so excited, rambling on about something you saw at the store today and when you turn the corner, you see him slouched on the couch, his head tilted back and mouth slightly open STILL in his work clothes.

- Before he crashed the bike, he actually really did love it. You’d open the garage to the door to see him inside, focused as all hell on god knows what

“You touch that bike more than you touch me”

you’d joke, hand on your hip as you leaned against the door frame. Leon would just look over at you, rolling his eyes playfully before finally coming back inside with you.

- Likes to act like he isn’t aging, though he is in absolutely perfect shape he often forgets he needs to take medication after his missions or his body will be sore. So when you walk into the room, your hand holding up the small pill bottle with his name on it

“Wasn’t given to you for no reason.”

“I’m fine.”

He would protest, going to sit up trying to hide the groan from the stretching in his lower back.

- He loves you more than anything. He makes that very clear when the two of you go basically anywhere. Anything you laid your eyes on in the store would be yours, anything you touched.

Your fingers rubbing at the petal of a flower, Leon’s eyebrows raising as he reaches over you and shoves the potted plant into the cart. And even when you argue he isn’t here for it at all.

- He’s not a very physically affectionate man, he hates PDA almost 50% of the time but sometimes when the two of you start your way into a crowd his fingers slyly wrap around your waist or grab at your hand.

- VERY overprotective, he’s so afraid of losing you but he would never admit it ever. When he found out about how you and your ex broke up he swore if he ever saw them, they were dead. He doesn’t mean it though, he knows that when he gets frustrated or anything around you, you get worried about him.

- Bed time is always the same every night, you always fall asleep first that’s just how you are. He sneaks in beside you, his nose resting against the back of your head as he pulls you into him, instant relief washing over him when you push yourself back into him.

NSFW WARNING

- Everytime he returns from a mission you know what it means. He comes home so frustrated that not everything works out his way, so he takes out all his frustrations on you.

Soft groans leaving his lips as his strong hands leave red finger print indents in your waist, your breath heavy as he fucks you into the soft mattress.

- He likes to pretend he’s “normal” but you can feel his steady rhythm suddenly stutter when you let out a whimper of his name.

- Aftercare with him is perfect, his fingers playing with your hair as the two of you just stare at the ceiling. It’s perfect till he says something corny like

“So the weather today”

And he thinks it’s so funny, but you just burst out laughing, his arms squeezing you as a smile spreads across his face.

———————————————————————

I hope you guys are doing great, for all of my readers starting a new college semester GOOD LUCK. You’re gonna do great! I love you all :))

For a limited time i’m doing paid requests and will write anything from ocs to different fandoms for any price, my job cut my hours and i’m SO behind on bills. :) click here if interested!!

[kittenintheden]

Smut Writing Tips

I could go on for 600 years on this so I cut myself off at seven basic tips for improving your smut writing. I don't know how to name this something that isn't suggestive so fuck it we ride at dawn etc. If you're having trouble writing smut/improving your smut writing, here are a few things that might help? I'm not the ultimate authority, do whatever you want, take what serves you and leave the rest, etc.

1) Get in touch with what turns you on. You can take this literally or figuratively. You don't have to be sexually active or even sexually aroused to write smut! It's not required. But you should know what gets you going, you know? Because whatever you're into, there are other people out there who are into it, too. Writing the things you're passionate about translates to the page. If you're disconnected from what you're writing, it's going to read that way.

2) Practice by translating a personal fantasy to text. THIS IS FOR YOU ONLY. Unless you like it enough to share? But this is an exercise to get you past the initial discomfort and embarrassment of writing sexy scenes. Many of us have romantic or sexual fantasies, even those on the ace/aro spectrum. When they live in our head, they feel safe. When we put them to the page, they suddenly EXIST in a space where someone else can theoretically perceive them. Getting comfortable with that takes a little bit of work/practice.

3) Try writing from the POV of the subject of the reader's desire. When I smut, I write from my OC's POV sometimes, but more often... I write from Astarion's. That's intentional. It's hot to feel DESIRED, to feel WANTED. Being in the subject's head means that the reader is experiencing that desire for themselves. There's power and sexiness in knowing you're making someone feel that way.

4) Physical description and positioning is great, but how do they FEEL? If you've ever heard the term "male gaze," you know it's frequently applied to visual media, especially where the subjects are treated as objects to be observed rather than people with interior thought and feeling. Smut WRITING gives us the opportunity to both describe the actions taking place and also the internal responses of the characters. It's not just what goes where, it's how that makes the body feel, the mind, the heart. It deepens the scene. Not everything needs to be "making love," but the tension and character interaction are still vital.

5) Realism is a fine base but it's not required. Look, there are a lot of smut tropes out there that are not REMOTELY based on reality and we love them anyway because a big part of this style of writing is the FANTASY of the thing. Like, yes, it's going to take some readers out if you're describing a position that's not physically possible. That's something that should be workshopped. But like. People come here for sex pollen and knotting. It's okay to be a little weird. Just consider the fantasy logistics.

6) Sometimes a little humor or awkwardness adds to the experience. Not everything has to be peak romance of the highest order, you know? Sex is messy and weird. If the participants can be a bit messy and weird together, it's both character-building and endearing. Don't be afraid to be like, oh this resulted in fluids and now we have to take care of that.

7) The tension is as important as the cumshot. Yeah I said that. An important piece of writing burning-hot smut is properly building tension. You can do that in a few words or many words. The ANTICIPATION, the WANTING, the not-quite-there-but-god-I-wanna-be of it all. It makes the release that much sweeter.

[rileyslibrary]

I love your sense of humour and have cracked up at your stories multible times. Maby you can find some inspiration in this:

Price ordering the team to an etiquette training so they know how to behave in case they have to go under cover in a more "fancy" environment (or the upcoming mission may require something like this). I'm thinking about Ghosts "sausage fingers" from the origami bit on a delicate litte cake fork... Or him needing to *converse* with someone.

I think putting these hard soldiers in a situation that's out of their comfort zone is always a fun read!

Thank you for letting us enjoy your fantastic writing! <3

Be gentle, man!

Relationship: TF141 x F!Reader with a potential Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader (platonic?) on the horizon. Also there’s an OC in the story.

Word Count: 1,598 (approx. 7-8 min reading time)

Notes: I began writing this last night as a joke, and couldn’t stop. Thank you SO MUCH for inspiring me to do this, anon. It’s a crackfic btw. (There’s a part 2 now here)

———————————————————————

The training room feels out of place compared to its usual purpose. Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the once-busy gym has been transformed into a classroom for an unlikely lesson—manners, of all things. Table manners, to be precise.

“Talk about Fitness Vs. Finesse,” Soap whispers, and you playfully nudge his side. The comment reaches Gaz’s ears, and he lets out a chuckle. Yet, Price’s death stare reclaims your attention and brings you back to focus.

You all sit around a long, polished mahogany table atop the gym’s boxing ring, admiring the delicate china and crystal glassware set before you. It reminds you of Aunt Claire’s preserved collection, which rarely leaves its cabinet. Lady Theodora, your etiquette instructor, assures you that each piece serves a purpose, and you will put them all to use. Every. Single. One of them.

Lady Theodora, the epitome of timeless confidence, moves gracefully around the table. Her silver hair is slicked back, framing a face that exudes years of wisdom and experience. Her Bordeaux-coloured shawl billows behind her as she glides, catching the gentle breeze her steps create. She pauses behind Price’s chair and reveals the reason behind today’s masterclass: an undercover operation.

“In the world of espionage, where appearances can mean the difference between life and death,” she says in a soft voice, “the art of etiquette becomes a weapon, a shield, and,” she concludes, resting her hand on Price’s shoulder, “your ticket to survival.”

“Bollocks.”

All eyes are drawn to the far end of the table, where a shadowy figure prefers to go unnoticed but isn’t afraid to express doubts. The only visible sign of life is a hand fidgeting with the butterknife.

“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant.” Lady Theodora says, and Ghost leans forward, revealing his unmasked—and visibly annoyed—face.

“We’re soldiers, not knights,” he claims. “Teaching us how to use all these,” he says, motioning to the various utensils before him, “is a waste of time, both yours and mine.”

Lady Theodora regards him gently as if looking at a child throwing a tantrum. She smiles and walks behind him, gripping the back of his chair.

“You seem quite certain of your own competence and doubtful of mine, Mr Riley,” she says, amused.

Ghost tilts his head to the side, partially facing her.

“With all due respect, Lady Theodora,” he replies, “I don’t believe you fully comprehend how such missions operate.”

Lady Theodora lets a light chuckle as she moves closer to Ghost’s face.

“My record of 25 confirmed kills, three of which were accomplished with a butterknife like the one in your hand, might suggest otherwise,” she admits. “Now, would you kindly move your seat forward, Lieutenant? I’ll show you how to act like a proper gentleman.”

Ghost’s Adam’s apple bobbles as he swallows hard. He returns the butterknife to its original position and pushes his chair forward with Lady Theodora’s help.

Gaz clears his throat and looks at Soap.

“Imagine her dinner parties,” he whispers so Price doesn’t hear him, “they must be perfectly executed.”

“Bet she makes a killer soufflé,” Soap whispers back.

You look at them and mutter, “You two are beyond help.” Unfortunately, it’s your own comment that catches Price’s attention this time, and he gives you a stern warning to behave.

“Let’s get started,” Lady Theodora says. “Projecting confidence and grace requires proper posture: sit up straight, shoulders back, and imagine a string pulling you upward from the crown of your head.”

You all adjust your posture, attempting to imitate Lady Theodora. Ghost used to a more relaxed posture, finds it difficult to maintain the required formality. His broad shoulders hunch forward, and he struggles to keep his legs straight.

“Excellent,” Lady Theodora remarks, catching Ghost’s struggle but choosing not to comment further. “Next, we shall delve into the art of dining. Each utensil on the table has a specific purpose, and it is essential to use them correctly.”

She points to the array of utensils laid out before you. Multiple forks, knives, and spoons of various sizes and shapes make the sight overwhelming.

“The outermost utensils are for the earlier courses, while the inner ones are for the later ones.” Lady Theodora says, “It’s like unwrapping a gift, one course at a time.”

You all nod and place the napkin on your lap to begin the process.

Ghost’s ingrained military habits take over when food is served, causing him to devour it quickly. He shovels forkfuls of food into his mouth without looking up and barely pausing to chew.

“Mr Riley,” Lady Theodora addresses Ghost, who shoots his head up to look at her. “I understand the military inclination to eat fast, but we must remember that the food isn’t going anywhere. Take your time, savour each bite, and enjoy your meal, please.”

“Sorry ’bout that.” Ghost mumbles with his mouth full.

Lady Theodora raises an eyebrow. “Mr Riley, it is impolite to speak with your mouth full,” she reminds him. “Please, swallow your food before continuing.”

Ghost swallows and clears his throat. “Apologies, Lady Theodora,” he mutters.

Lady Theodora smiles and nods at Ghost’s response. “Very well, Lieutenant Riley,” she says. “Remember, dining is about more than just the food; it’s also about the company and the experience.”

As the training continues, you witness Soap’s attempts to initiate a proper conversation, only to subconsciously bring up military strategies. Gaz, on the other hand, struggles with small talk and, when asked about his hobbies, blurts out his love of explosions.

“Kerosene is one hell of a—”

“No kerosene talk on the table, Sergeant,” Lady Theodora interrupts. “How about we talk about something more appropriate, like, for example, what did you do today?”

“You’re not going to like it.” He replies.

“Did it involve kerosene?” She asks and receives multiple excited nods from Gaz.

Ghost forgets about his napkin while using the finger bowl and instinctively flicks his hands to dry them. Droplets of water scatter across the table, and Lady Theodora steps forward with a calm smile. She retrieves his napkin and hands it to him. “Remember, Lieutenant,” she whispers, “the napkin is your ally.”

Throughout this ordeal, Price seems to be the only one who already has a natural fluidity in his movements. Like he already knows about etiquette.

You compliment his impeccable manners, but Lady Theodora intervenes before Price can respond.

“Oh, that’s because the Captain already received my services a few years ago,” she reveals, winking.

Price, caught off guard, coughs and sputters, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. After regaining his composure, he clears his throat and grins.

“Yes, well, Lady Theodora’s guidance has been, um, invaluable,” he manages to say and lowers his gaze to his plate. Gaz raises an eyebrow, and Soap gives a sly smile.

With the etiquette training completed, Price gracefully positions his utensils on his plate and folds his napkin. Lady Theodora hands him a file stack, which he distributes to you.

“These files contain detailed background information for your assigned roles,” he explains. “Study them carefully; familiarise yourselves with the personas you will embody, and don’t worry; with Lady Theodora’s help, you’ll have plenty of time to learn how to carry yourselves.”

He watches you all as you take hold of your respective files, scanning the pages and absorbing the details that will shape your performances.

“Gaz, within those pages, you’ll uncover the roadmap to shape your tech persona, along with essential contacts and valuable industry insights,” Price declares.

“A startup entrepreneur,” Gaz mutters and nods, “nice.”

“Soap,” Price continues, “your file contains the lineage and history of an alleged oil tycoon family; you’ll assume the identity of their sole son and heir to the business.”

“Why do I get the oil-moneyed spoiled brat?” Soap protests, “Gaz is the one obsessed with fossil fuel!”

Price looks at Lady Theodora, silently begging her to take the lead.

“Focus on embodying the demeanour of an heir, Sergeant MacTavish,” she comforts Soap. “Acquiring in-depth knowledge of the business is not a top priority now.”

Finally, Price shifts his focus to you and Ghost. His voice softens, and a smile appears on his lips.

“As for the two of you,” he says, “your assignment requires a convincing portrayal of a couple.”

You and Ghost exchange a brief look before returning your focus to the files in your hands.

“Laswell will provide you with a forged marriage certificate and photos of your alleged relationship,” Price continues. “The documents will serve as tangible proof if the need to validate your connection arises.”

“Any chance to let us know who or what we’re after?” Gaz asks, and Price shakes his head.

“Baby steps, Sergeant; we’re waiting for Laswell to give us more intel,” he explains, “but as far as we know, we’re dealing with people who can buy their way out of some very sketchy shit.”

“Language, Captain.” Lady Theodora reminds him.

“Please accept my sincere apologies, Theodora,” he says and turns to Gaz. “I meant sketchy things, Sergeant.”

As they continue discussing the mission, your mind wanders on the latest information. Ghost’s partner? How? You look at the file and then back at Ghost. You see Lady Theodora walking behind Ghost’s chair and leaning close to his ear. She looks at you and whispers to him.

“I told you, Lieutenant,” she says, “I’ll mould you into a proper gentleman.”

Ghost turns to face you as well. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Lady Theodora,” he replies.

But Lady Theodora smiles and touches his shoulder, “Oh, you’ll see, Mr Riley—you’re my gift to unwrap, one course at a time.”

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

[yok00k]

coming down

pairing: non-idoloc! x idol!jk

genre: angst

“i always want you when i’m coming down”

sypnosis: although you sleep next to jungkook every single night, it feels like you’re million miles away from him.

wordcount: around 1,000

warning: in 1st pov, it’s a little sad (for me), open ended ending, one sided love, allusion of cheating, oc’s world revolves around jk (don’t be like her)(lowkey im her), toxic relationship, lack of communication

author’s note: this did not go as I initially planned help-_- i was gonna make light jealousy oc/jk drabble idk how I ended up with this. i hope yall sob w/ me or lmk ur thoughts

an absolute ideal.

his performance. the concept. the way he sang his new released songs flawlessly. how smooth his dancing movements were. how the stage composition and development were so sumptuous.

and most importantly, how romantic the live performance was, given the fact that there was an actress involved in the show.

calling Jungkook an amazing artist would be an understatement. He’s creative, unique, and original in his masterpieces. Everything he does, no matter what, is just mesmerizing and astounding. He’s indeed a true performer.

Jungkook dedicated several months to work on his solo album. The time and effort he had put to his work is just admirable. On most days, he stays up late, trying to come up with so many possible ideas and options he can add on his album.

and I was there by his side. I chose to be.

I was there, waiting for him to come home every single night, or usually midnight, in our noiseless living room, wrapped with a thick blanket and loneliness. He would arrive home, but as night by night goes, I was accompanied by nothing but solitude. it feels like it’s taking over me.

I was there, in bad days where Jungkook is focusing on the negatives and having doubts in himself. Days where his standards for himself weren’t being met. both of my shoulders were closely next to him if he needed something to lean into. Reminding him that it’s okay and he’s doing wonderful.

I was there, even in times when he didn't want or need me to be there. times where he just wanted to be by his own with no distraction. but here I am, continuously showing him my undying love and support for him.

I chose to stay there. on nights where he stopped saying “i love you” back before going to dreamland. I hugged him closer as I convinced myself to believe that he just didn’t feel like saying those three words at those moment because of all the stress he undergoes through day to day.

I gave all of myself, I’ve done my part as his other half. Just like how Jungkook produces his works, I poured all my love and time to him, leaving not a thing for myself. It sounds foolish, but that’s just how I love

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

we’re both lying on the massive bed, only inches apart from one another’s body yet it feels like he’s millions of miles away from me as I stare at his cold, broad back that’s facing me.

I’ve got to used to this upsetting scenario at this point but that doesn’t mean it hurt less.

The whole bedroom feels chilly. I’m freezing, solely due to the fact that his warm arms weren’t wrapped around me like they used to be. as i’m not hearing his snores, I know that he’s still awake

“Do you still love me?” I manage to ask out loud and clear, immediately regretting the words that came out of my mouth even though it’s simply an inquiry.

a question that’s been going around my head for quite some time now. a question that i’m afraid to know the answer to because his response might be the response my heart doesn’t wish to hear or else it will shatter into millions of pieces.

my hope for an answer rapidly decreased as seconds went by filled with silence. The absence of noise that surrounded me was deafening; abundantly mocked the emotions I was feeling at the moment, screaming at me that my feelings didn't matter.

It's alright.

I did nothing but wipe the single tear that uncontrollably rolled down my cheek.

it’s stupid. I should’ve just kept it to myself. maybe that would be less embarrassing. less problematic. less painful than I was feeling minutes ago.

I turned my back against his as I accepted my defeat. maybe I’m just tired. maybe drifting to sleep will make me feel okay although I know deep inside that I won’t take the pain away. this is not some type of feeling i’m unfamiliar with to begin with.

I shut my eyes, as I try to put myself to sleep. but in that process, i felt his body moving, turning around, and finally snakes his warm arms around me. a pair of arms, the same ones I longed for so many nights.

“____, why would you ask that?” he giggly asked, sounding like he just heard a silly question. as if i was just being clingy and wanted some piece of his attention.

‘because i don’t feel like you love me anymore’

the man waited for a response, waiting to see if I was just fooling around or that was really genuine. the noiselessness, just like all times, answers the question we both interrogate to each other.

the heavy feelings just got worse, if not heavier. even so when he talks more. “i won’t be laying next to you if i wasn’t.” as if that makes me feel better.

indeed, he’s physically here by my side yet distant. Jungkook is so far off that I’ve lost him. numbness was all I felt as I heard his words. I couldn’t be more content now that I have my answers.

his indirect answer to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question is enough for me to know where we stand.

I can’t help but to turn my body to face him, just to stare at his doe eyes that I easily get lost in due to the fact that they hold thousands of stars, if not a whole world in them.

regretfully, my eyes should’ve just maintained contact with doe-like eyelids. but rather, they drop their focus on the side of his neck, detecting a foreign lipstick shade that he might have forgotten to wipe off. a shade that will be tattooed in my brain and will forever hate.

Inhale. Exhale. I chose to shrug it off, bringing my attention back to his worn out face.

“I love you” truthfully and whole-heartedly confessed to him once more just like I always do. although this was a little bit different because I don’t expect him to say it back anymore.

and with that in mind, this was also the last night that I will to express my love for him.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Yo! Good morning/evening, hope you are fine^^💝. I wanted to ask you a question but I was afraid that it may bother you or something (you know..that feeling when you are scared that you might disturb someone or being an unwelcome person) but yeah I will ask you since i was serious about your answer for some time now so I hope I'm not annoying you or something *feel free to answer only if you wish^^. You seem to know the characters pretty well, you are quite capable and great at reading and understanding them, one of the things I'm serious about is what do you think would make someone qualified enough to be with malleus? Do they have to be of the same species?certain Reputation, stature or traits?(sorry can't help it since I can't rest until I know everything about what interests me and figure it all out😅). Thanks for giving me some of your precious time I really like your blog, you're amazing💜

No worries, you’re not bothering me at all ^^ I love to talk about my hyperfixations www

Now, I know a lot of fans (particularly on the EN side) like to ship Malleus with their OC and especially with Yuu so I want to first make it clear that my response is NOT meant to invalidate those Malleus shippers. Whatever I say here is based on my own interpretation of canon lore (and let’s be real here, TWST won’t ever confirm if anyone is romantically interested in Yuu because it might not work with how some players view their own relationship with that character). In fanon, anyone can be with anyone, but in canon there are very specific in-universe rules and expectations laid out for Malleus so these are what I will be referring to.

I also want to emphasize that the final traits I discuss in this post do NOT reflect Malleus’s personal tastes or views. He has little say in what kind of an individual his spouse would be, so his own preferences are not speculated about or taken into account here. The traits I will be bringing up are based on what I believe the lore implies are the desirable traits for those marrying into the Draconia royal family.

We got it? Good 👍 Read more below the cut!!

Firstly, I’m completely disregarding the ideas of “Malleus can love whoever he wants to love”, “Malleus can scare people into accepting who he loves”, and/or “Malleus can change the law so he can marry who he loves” (a la Sultan from Aladdin or through some other Disney magic or logic). Here’s why:

In general, those solutions for “high stakes issues” are too simple, and that has never been how Twisted Wonderland tackles complicated problems. Just look at every single OB boy’s backstory. They’re so complex that they aren’t totally resolved by the end of their books; these problems persist and are long term things each of them are working on addressing. This is also true of the politics TWST introduces to us; Leona for example explains how there is social pushback and resistance to the idea of infrastructure reform because the culture of the Sunset Savanna stresses harmony with nature. This has made it difficult for them to adopt new technologies because real politicians in their world have to seriously weigh their cultural values with their health and societal progress. The only time there are really easy solutions are in events or vignettes where the emotional stakes are not super high, but who Malleus marries is, in fact, super important since this will entirely change the life of a main character and his country.

With that first bullet point in mind… No, Malleus cannot love whoever he wants to love. Certainly, he may feel affection for another but he can never truly be with them. He is royalty and the only heir to the throne of Briar Valley. It follows that he is expected to marry for political reasons/to better his nation. This is a non-negotiable obligation for him.

Rather than saying, “Malleus cannot scare people into accepting who he loves”, I think it’s more accurate to say Malleus knows he probably shouldn’t. I mean, yes, he may be upset about his S/O not being accepted by his people but I feel that is discrediting a lot of the loyalty he has for his own country. As a kid he may have thrown tantrums when he was upset and potentially harmed staff, but as a 178 year old he has a much better understanding of decorum and maintaining it in spite of his own grudges. For example, even though he personally dislikes Leona he still commands Sebek to apologize to him because, at the end of the day, this could harm Briar Valley’s relationship with the Sunset Savanna. That’s not to say that Malleus can’t be petty (he definitely is)—but implying he would be petty toward basically his entire country just because they would disapprove of the one he loves?? (We know this would likely be true because Sebek’s parents faced similar backlash when they got together.) I feel like his own sense of awareness and responsibility for his country, crown, and people would override that. As an example, Malleus states that he has never been in a car before because the senate would be against it and often kept Malleus in the castle. Someone of his power could easily ignore them and sneak out and do whatever he wanted, yet the dialogue implies Malleus didn’t. He obeyed his political advisors even when he was younger and arguably much more immature. Malleus might not like certain decisions made about his life but it sounds like he ultimately complies with them.

Continuing from the previous point, let’s say for the sake of argument that Malleus does scare everyone into line. What about his public image and the mental health of his S/O? Maybe Malleus can frighten people to not talk out of turn to his face, but he cannot control what people whisper about him behind closed doors or to treat his S/O well or like they actually like them. Not only would they be alienated (away from their own home and forced to adapt to a new one) but they’d be treated oddly by others too. What kind of reputation is that for Malleus? To be a tyrant king who throws a hissy fit anytime someone talks about his partner in a way he doesn’t approve of? With a spouse who is not at their best mentally because of the constant ostracization? (This is similar to what Leona experienced in his childhood.) I don’t think Malleus would want to subject anyone to that kind of life, especially not one he loves. And again, this attitude would be the vast majority of his people. It’s not like it can be avoided or resolved in an easy manner, especially when the people of Briar Valley have proven to be against change.

Lastly, Malleus would not change the law so he can be with whoever he wants to. To begin with, I doubt this is a unilateral position the senate would approve of. But okay, let’s accept that Malleus is royalty so his power overrides the advisors’ power. So he effectively just changed a law for a very selfish and personal reason rather than changing something to actually benefit his people. That doesn’t feel in-character for him, not when Malleus seems to understand that it is the duty of those in higher status to help those below them rather than themselves (see: Riddle’s Suitor Suit vignettes. Malleus has acted selfish before, yes (who remembers Endless Halloween Night? His Dorm Uniform vignettes? I do.)—but never at the cost of changing the status quo of his country. (Book 7 is not included here because he’s in a very distressed emotional state then; this “new law” scenario posits that Malleus is in a normal state of mind.) This is a major change—change which Briar Valley, its people, and most importantly, Malleus, are not ready for. You think there wouldn’t be social pushback against this? From a society that has become complacent with its own way of life and is still isolated from the rest of the world? That Malleus, someone who struggles greatly with accepting life changes himself, could enact such a big change so easily? (On a more technical level, you don’t just pass a law and it instantly becomes tangible or real, there is a process of approval and then implementation.)

Additionally, it’s made clear in Ghost Marriage that “[Malleus] cannot enter into an engagement lightly”, which is why Sebek goes in his place. Eliza, the Ghost Bride, is royalty (er, albeit dead) but it seems that royal status is not enough to qualify as his partner. Maybe this is because she’s dead and doesn’t have anything of value for Briar Valley (no land, no people, no political power), but it could also mean that the partner has to be given the thumbs up by other parties.

All that being said, here are some of the conditions I think would have to be met for Malleus’s future spouse:

Has to be someone of equal or at least high status. This means they also have to be a royal or at least of nobility. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who is referred to as a duke.

Because of how self-contained Briar Valley is + nocturnal fae having beef with diurnal fae, I imagine his partner would have to also be a nocturnal fae. This would also solve the MASSIVE lifespan difference between fae and non-fae because at least fae would be far closer to each other even if their lifespans fluctuate but subspecies.

Someone suited to rule by his side. Being married into any royal family is no joke—it comes with the expectation that you will contribute somehow, and the partner should be fully equipped to enter the world of politics with him.

Piggybacking off the last point, I think mental fortitude is also a prerequisite. This is because being a politician (navigating the social climate both within your country and outside of it, keeping your people and colleagues happy, maintaining public approval, managing laws, dealing with potential attempts on your life, etc.) can be very stressful and can hurt those who are faint of heart or not prepared for the responsibility. Leaders have to make tough calls at the drop of a hat, and they have to be ready for it.

Has a lot to offer in terms of benefits to Briar Valley as a country. This could be in terms of resources, connections, and/or political savvy. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who acted as a diplomat for Briar Valley.

Vetting and formal approval from the senate. lmao good luck with that

Has to be able and willing to have a child. They at least need an heir to the throne to succeed Malleus. (However, knowing how exclusionary and conservative as heck the senators are, I doubt they would accept anything but a biological child 💀)

Preferably someone with powerful magic or is skilled at magic already so as to lessen the chance of “tainting” the bloodline with a weak mage or a non-mage.

I believe that Briar Valley would prefer someone with old fashioned values like them, not someone pushing for massive reform. They have a culture that is resistant to change and a history of fighting for resources with outsiders, so if Malleus’s new spouse tries to introduce a bunch of technology or open its borders to other countries (even if they have good intentions), the people + the senate may oppose them. His father is implied to be open-minded, but he at least understood that such change isn’t reasonable without time and effort dedicated to the endeavor.

All that being said 💦 I think that this topic is actually less about what Malleus as an individual wants and what his country, his people, and, yes, even his asshole senators, want. This is basically an arranged marriage situation so that their country can maintain power and relevance. It’s about the collective and what Malleus must do for their perceived security and prosperity.

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

A Jester's Token

HEY SO. I wrote a thing. Based on @oblivionsdream's Knight/Jester OCs, who are SUPER AMAZING, which you can find here.

Thank you for your wonderful art!! And also accidentally inspiring a jester obsession in me 🤡

No warnings, contains a little suggestiveness, 3.4k words 💖

*

The grounds were alive with activity. The King doted upon his sons, and now with his second eldest’s twentieth birthday only a scant few days away, the celebrations were in full swing.

The prince, as was his wont, had demanded a tournament to celebrate the day of his birth. The King, as always, had been unable to refuse. And the Knight was looking forward to a week of respite; of celebration and jousting and fun instead of training and war council meetings.

Typically, he tried to remain impassive and stoic with his fellow knights. It was what was expected of him as the King’s champion, after all, and besides: it added an edge to his demeanour that meant orders were obeyed. The other knights weren’t to know that beneath his shining, shuttered helm he was wondering if the stable cat had birthed her kittens yet.

Still he kept his head high as he strode across the grounds, heading towards the armoury where he had left his sword that morning to be honed and polished. Several other knights turned to glance at him as he passed: one, he noticed, standing immediately to attention as he did.

The deference was useful, he supposed, but he hoped it did not extend to the tournament itself. It would be a dull affair if everybody he encountered was afraid of the King’s champion knight.

As he approached the armoury, a familiar noise perked up his ears. He found his steps faltering, his sure stride suddenly broken.

Not everybody was afraid of him.

He turned just in time to see the grinning face of the Jester as he sauntered over, his motley - brand new for the tournament in festive greens and reds - lit up in the dazzling summer sunshine. His hair haloed from his head, sticking in yellow waves from beneath his cap’n’bells. His eyes - startlingly bright, one dark, one nearly gold - shone with excitement. 

“Good morning, Sir!” he said cheerily, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Lovelier for you, the Knight didn’t say.

“It is indeed,” he said. “Perfect for a tournament.”

“Perfect for a party,” the Jester countered. “I called into the ale tent on the way here, have you seen how stocked it is? Forget the tournament, I fear our Lord means to drown us. Can you swim in that?” he pinged a fingernail against the Knight’s plate.

The Knight rolled his eyes, forgoing a response.

“Although,” the Jester continued merrily, “I must admit, these events always make me laugh.”

“Oh?”

“Come,” the Jester said, “Oh ho - here I am, the picture of virile manhood! Beware my powerful—” he gave a short, sharp thrust. “Lance.”

The Knight bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing. “You have a filthy mind.”

“You should hear me talk about maypoles.”

“I would really rather not.”

“I can do some wonderful things with ribbons, you know.”

“Anything useful in a tournament?” 

“Depends what you need,” the Jester said, catching him with a sidelong glance. “I’m very good with knots.”

The Knight swallowed, saying nothing.

“Well!” The Jester said, clearly unphased. “I am afraid I am wanted by— well, by everyone. Which makes it such a shame that I’d rather spend my morning following you around. Nevermind.” His smile twitched a little, before settling back into a grin. “Good luck, my Knight!”

And with that, he was off. The Knight watched him leave, swaying through the crowds with his typically fluid movement. While the Knight would be entering competitions, the Jester would be entertaining in a much different way: joking and turning somersaults and charming the King and his guests. He even had a role in the joust alongside the announcer, riling up the crowds and mocking the competitors.

With luck, the Knight would be able to watch him perform. He enjoyed watching the Jester show off, and he loved his jokes, not that he would ever allow the Jester himself to realise that. The first time they had met he’d been forced to remove himself lest he make an utter fool of himself, and since then the Jester had taken him as a challenge, when he wasn’t making a game of flirting with him.

With a sigh, and a final glance at the Jester’s departing figure, he walked on towards the armoury. He noticed Sir Rowan lingering just outside, standing beside Lady Felicity - one of the Queen’s Ladies in Waiting. Without thinking, he called out a greeting to his fellow knight.

As he approached, he realised far too late that what he thought was simply a polite conversation between knight and lady was something far more intimate. Sir Rowan’s head was tilted just so, Lady Felicity leaning in a little too close. Their hands, he realised, were linked.

Shit. But it was too late now; he had already hailed Sir Rowan and he couldn’t very well turn heel and run. Lady Felicity quickly snatched her hands away, her face mottling in a sweet, pink blush before giving him a slightly lopsided curtsey, bidding them both farewell and quickly rushing off. 

As The Knight drew closer, he noticed a scrap of fabric clasped in Rowan’s hand. He pretended not to have seen it as Rowan quickly tucked it into his breastplate.

A favour, then. He hadn’t realised that Sir Rowan and Lady Felicity were courting; although most of their time spent together would have been at banquets and feasts, where the Knight’s attention was more often than not focused on their entertainment and very little else. It was terribly improper to ask Sir Rowan for more information. Even as his friend, he would not push for information too intimate to share; certainly not while Rowan and Lady Felicity were still in the first, tentative steps of the most delicate of dances. 

He engaged Rowan in brief conversation, deeply aware of the moment he had managed to ruin. He wished him good luck - making him blush - then headed inside the armoury where he collected his sword.

He couldn't help but peer back as he left. Rowan, now alone, had taken the favour from his breastplate and was tugging it through his fingers. It appeared to be cream-coloured silk: a handkerchief or scarf, perhaps. Rowan's face had gone red.

Something tugged in the Knight's chest. It was a sweet, deeply romantic gesture. It would leave Rowan with no doubt at all about Lady Felicity’s intentions towards him. And, of course, it was furiously lucky: any man blessed with such a token would be sure to do well, especially from one they loved.

The tugging grew more urgent, joined by a leaden feeling in the Knights stomach. He would have no such token. Oh, he was sure that many members of the court would accept him should he attempt to woo them - courtly favours included - but it wasn't any of them he really wanted.

“I would rather spend my day following you around.”

The Knight’s face heated beneath the metal. His heart swelled. Whatever the Jester’s intentions towards him, his feelings were not the sort that spurred a man to give a love token. His were the feelings that spurred a quick fumble behind the stables - perhaps several quick fumbles, judging by the lewdness of the Jester’s tongue. It was no more than that.

Or, more likely, it was even less than that. The Knight was aware of the reputation he had carefully curated at court, and he knew that the Jester had taken him as a challenge. He was just another joke. The Jester had never even seen his face, hadn't seen the scars, didn't know the stories behind them.

He was just teasing.

The Knight tried to shake the thought from his head, fluttering the great plume that burst from the crown of his helm. Chasing such thoughts - be they of fumbles or fools - would get him unseated in the joust and begging for mercy in the duel.

He turned towards the stables, trudging down the muddy path. The earth had been turned by the sheer volume of guests and carts and horses, and was now a sucking, muddy mess. 

There was an oddly metallic clink beneath his boot. He paused. He lifted his foot. In the centre of a perfect footprint was a mud-splattered, but unmistakably golden, bell.

There was only one person who wore bells like that.

The Knight picked it up without thinking, desperately wishing he had something to clean it with. He rubbed off as much muck as he could with a fingertip, watching as it glinted in the light. As he turned it in his hand - terribly small against his huge palm - it jingled merrily.

He swallowed and closed his fingers around it, squeezing it tight.

The stables would wait. As a high-ranking man, he had been given a private tent on the edge of the grounds - somewhere he could clean and rest without traipsing through the castle to his chambers. He headed there, pulling the flaps tight shut behind him before unfurling his hand.

The bell had left a neat little indent in his palm. A curving, teasing smile embedded into his skin.

He placed it reverently on the wooden table at the far side of the tent before shooting a final, nervous glance towards the entry. And then he removed his helm.

The air felt cool and good against his burning cheeks. He shook out his hair, tied into a low queue to keep it out of his face, and stared down at the bell. It felt as if it were the only object in the room; perhaps the world.

Mindlessly, he took the cloth he used to tend his sword from the chest beside the table and gently began to clean the little golden thing. Mud had even managed to get inside the bell, and he carefully cleaned away as much as he could until it was shining and jingling once more.

He rolled it in his palm. It felt hot, like a tiny lump of coal, like a nugget of forge-warmed iron.

The Knight thought of Sir Rowan and Lady Felicity.

He would need luck, after all. Skill he had in abundance, but luck? Luck was harder to judge; a tip of the scales that, at present, could fall either way.

Of course, traditionally, a token needed to be a gift. But many Knights - both in tournaments and in battle - found luck where they could snatch it. A sword that had never slipped from their grasp, a tunic worn during a lucky win, a shield taken to war that deflected a killing blow. Perhaps a bell - so small and yet so weighty - could be like those. It was luck, after all, that helped him find it when so many people had stepped over it.

He turned back to the chest and searched through it until he found what he was looking for; the spare ties he kept on hand in case his snapped during the tournament. He typically used them to fasten his gauntlets, and while it was thin the leather was tough and sturdy: perfect for what he needed. Carefully, he threaded the bell onto the strap, ensured it wouldn’t slip off and then twisted the strap around the hilt of his sword, securing it tight.

The Knight gave the sword an experimental shake. The bell jingled against the hilt. He didn’t bother to suppress his smile: it wasn’t as if anyone could see him. The noise set a thrill through him. He would be the first to admit that he was not a musical man, but the ringing of the little bell felt like an angelic chorus just for him.

Besides, he thought, as he sheathed the sword once more: if it didn’t bring him luck, the noise may distract an opponent long enough for him to land a good hit.

He took a few moments to gather himself, taking a long drink of water from the jug atop the table, wiping down his face, and re-tying his hair before donning his helm once more. He pulled on his gloves, too, and now with his hand now gripped tight around the hilt of his sword, he exited the tent.

Outside, the noise was growing more urgent as more people gathered to watch the show. Now buoyed by the token hanging from his sword, he strode with pride towards the centre of the grounds where he intended to take part in the first single-combat duel of the day. It was likely still a little early, but no doubt he wouldn’t be the only one keen to begin and could at least find someone to spar against to pass the time.

He was dodging around a lad from the kennels and a pack of exuberant dogs when he heard a shout from behind.

“Knight! My Knight!”

He hastily shoved his sword behind his back as he turned, watching the Jester bounce across the field towards him. 

“I need your skills,” he said, as he slid smoothly to a halt beside him.

“Oh?” The Knight was glad for his helmet, now: the jester couldn’t see him blush.

“Have you seen a bell?” The Jester tugged at the frontmost horn of his cap, which was indeed bell-less. “I’m missing one.”

The Knight gripped his sword harder. He could feel the distinct shape of the bell through his gloves, praying it would not ring and give him away.

“No,” he said, his face so hot he was amazed his helm did not begin to steam, “I cannot say I have.”

“Oh.” The Jester gave him a crestfallen look that was so heartbreakingly sincere that for a moment, the Knight nearly relented. “I suppose it will turn up… or the King will fund me for another, I am sure.”

His eyes darted down, as if taking the Knight in for the first time. His expression turned dark. The Knight found himself standing a little straighter.

“And where are you off to, my chivalrous wonder? That’s—” he peered around the Knight’s back, “—an extremely long sword you have there.”

The Knight rolled his eyes, not that the Jester could see the gesture.

“You have realised,” he said, keeping his tone even, “where we are, yes?”

The Jester gave a dramatic twirl as if assessing his surroundings. “We are standing in the mud,” he grinned.

“Typically,” the Knight said, ignoring him, “A Knight takes part in a tournament. I intend to test my luck in the duel.”

“Luck?” The Jester said, “Not skill? Although—” he gave him another of those long looks, “—I suspect you have plenty of skill in swordplay.”

He gave the Knight a tight, cattish smile, his tongue wetting his lips as he waited for the Knight to respond. The Knight, once he had finally regained control of his lips, could only manage a single word.

“Quite.”

“Well,” the Jester grinned cockily. “I would surely love to see you in action. Lead on, good Sir Knight.”

The Jester looped his hand around his arm, gripping him tight. The Knight was utterly unable to resist, lost in a sudden moment of deep regret that he was so armoured, unable to feel that touch against his skin. 

Arm in arm they headed across the grounds towards the ring. The Jester joked and chatted and flirted as they walked, commenting again on that marvellously large blade, but the Knight could barely hear him over the rush of his own spinning thoughts.

He kept his free hand gripped on the sword, over the bell. The Jester couldn’t know.

The Jester finally released him as they reached the ring. Even though the touch had been to the plate steel of his armour and not the skin beneath, the Knight still missed having him hanging from his arm.

“You better win,” he said, stepping back. “There are a dozen other things I could be doing right now, and I refuse to tie my lot to a man who cannot even win a duel for me.”

The Knight’s heart stuttered in his chest. For me. The Jester was watching him, expectantly. And then his eyes widened, as if remembering something.

“Of course!” He said, face splitting into a grin. “You need a token. As you said, to give you luck enough to win. Ah— here…” he reached up, and before the Knight could stop him pulled another bell from his hat. “What’s another bell?” he said with a shrug. “I was lopsided anyway. Here…”

He produced a silk ribbon as if from nowhere, quickly looped it through the bell, and tied it with swift, dexterous fingers to the Knight’s belt.

“There,” he said. “I told you I was good with knots. Now you’ll win.”

The Jester stretched up on the tip of his bell-topped toes, placed a hand to the Kight’s shoulder for balance, and flicked his helmet’s plume with a single, long finger.

“Good luck.”

And with no warning at all, he placed a kiss to the warm metal of the Knight’s helm. Beneath, the Knight felt as if he could no longer breathe, his heart launching a battle of its own.

“I…” he said, gathering himself. “Thank you.”

The Jester gave him another grin, trailing a finger across the spot where his lips had been moments before.

“You’re welcome.”

***

The Jester leaned casually against a stack of crates, watching the Knight perform with genuine interest. The interest, of course, had very little to do with the fight itself - he wanted him to win, sure, but the minutiae of the fight were nothing compared to the strength of his arms, the broadness of his shoulders, or the exceptional noises he made when he struck a particularly good hit.

He fiddled mindlessly with one of the horns of his cap as he watched the Knight take another decisive swing. A hint of gold glinted through the air as he did, catching the light like a comet.

The Jester grinned to himself. No wonder his Knight was being so stiff as they walked towards the ring. What a sneaky little secret; not the sort he had come to expect from him. It was amusing, and quite sweet, too. Anyone would be lucky to have the Knight be their champion, to have him take their token. But the one he had chosen - the one he had taken for himself - was little more than a minstrel’s bell.

He was glad he had stumbled upon the thought to give him a token himself. Now the Knight would know that he would have given him one, had he asked, and even better: now he had twice the luck.

The Knight swung around again, the bell jingling, harmonising with the one the Jester himself had tied to his hip.

Thrice the luck, the Jester thought, if you counted the kiss.

The Knight ducked, dodged and lunged. The Jester watched, lips quirked into a smile.

When the Knight won - a feat which did not surprise the Jester at all - he straightened up, set his shoulders, and looked towards him.

And then his helm snapped down, taking in the hilt of his sword and the bell hanging from it. The Jester was almost surprised that he couldn’t see the Knight blush through his helmet.

The Jester too glanced downwards to the hilt of the sword. He let his gaze linger there. Then he dragged his eyes up, up the Knight’s body, over his chest, to the place where he desperately wished he could properly see his eyes.

He heaved himself away from the crates and waved. The Knight sagged, only a little. A small moment of recognition and relief. A spark of understanding, shared between them.

But the Jester could not stand there all day, no matter how much he wanted to. He shot the Knight another grin - his best grin, saved just for him - blew him a kiss, and swayed away towards the ale tent.

[auclairedetoru]

Alrightyy, hii :3

May I request Levi with a reader who basically grew up around him? Like they were a child when Erwin found them and basically dropped them to Levi's care when he was busy. They have no home or parents and they have been a subject of experiments because of an ability connected to their blood (in my story it's healing but can be anything)

Reader is a 17 yro Survey Corp member but higher up than Eren and the other cadets since they started earlier.

(I'm very sorry if this is way too specific, I'm lowkey just requesting this for oc story purposes <33)

So sorry this is late, life happens lol 😭

tried my best to interpret it as close to your vision as possible. I've never written a reader/oc with powerful abilities, but it was fun to imagine it all and put it into words. I hope you like it 🤍

WARNING!! Spoilers to Levi's story in the OVA.

Levi never thought he'd take someone under his wing after what happened to Furlan and Isabel. He might not have expressed it but constantly losing people he cares about hurts him a lot, that's why he refuses to form any kind of relationship with anyone, too afraid they'll end up dead as well.

But now thanks to Erwin he's stuck with this grumpy kid who is in a very rough shape and whose frown gets deeper every time he looks at them. He was told that they had some sort of powers and that he's the perfect candidate for training them. Levi scoffed when he heard that but eventually agreed to do it.

He was instructed to take them into a random office and get them to talk about what happened to them wherever Erwin found them and then explain what the plan for them is. Time is very precious to Levi though and he has a lot of work he still hasn't finished so he's hoping he'll be done with them in a matter of minutes and send them on their way.

“What's your name again?”

Yeah, he remembers their name, it was the first thing Erwin told him about them, but he had to get them to talk somehow.

They glare at him and look away, their arms tightly crossed across their chest to show that they do not like being here and whatever it is he has planned. Levi sighs with a roll of his eyes. He doesn't like to deal with adults, let alone a kid who probably just became a teen and is starting to develop that shitty teenagers attitude.

“The longer you take to answer the longer you have to sit in this room with me and we both don't want that. So I'll ask again, what's your name?”

That got them to answer him with a mumble of their name. It's nothing major, but it's a step closer to making progress with them and ending this meeting quickly. Levi's not liking being stuck in this situation either and he wants to get it over and done with as fast as possible. He can already feel a headache creeping up on him at the thought of the mountain of paperwork waiting for him in his office. He could've gone through half of them by now.

“Where did you come from?”

“I don't know,” they shrug their shoulders, still refusing to look at him. He raises an eyebrow, where on earth did Erwin find this one? In the underground again? He hopes not. He doesn't want a constant reminder of that god awfully place.

“What do you mean you don't know?”

The kid huffs in frustration, “All I remember is being in the lab, is this what you wanted to know? Can I go now?”

A lab? What lab? He looks down at the paper Erwin gave him with information about them. It only mentions their name, age, physical description, and possible history. There's no mention of a lab or anything similar.

“What were you doing in the lab?”

They scoff and roll their eyes, “I don't know, they wanted to extract my healing abilities or something like that. I might not know how to read and write, but I do know that it's not possible. They wouldn't listen to me, though.”

Levi quickly writes down everything they said to report it back to Erwin, he has a feeling this has nothing to do with the underground, but a more bigger problem.

“what do your healing abilities do exactly?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Guess we'll be spending the night here, then.”

Levi doesn't spare them a glance as they throw their head back and groan. He's starting to understand why Erwin brought them here instead of taking them anywhere else. The survey corps could benefit greatly from their abilities, especially during expeditions. Training them will be the hard part, they're very stubborn, but he already has a plan on how to tackle that.

“my blood can heal injuries quickly, the worse the wound is the more blood is needed, but more like a few drops, not a lot. Those greedy bastards at the labs forgot I needed it to survive and got mad when I got sick from them extracting from me every single day without feeding me properly.” the kid scoffs as they remember those stupid blurry faces of the "doctors" yelling at them for passing out. It's not like they could control how their body reacted to literal torture.

“Humans can be very shitty,” Levi mumbles and looks back up at them after he finishes writing down all that they said, “that's why your first training lessons will be in hand to hand combat, you'll also be attending classes to learn how to write and read.”

Their face morphs into a shocked expression, their eyes following him frantically as he stands up and collects his papers, “what? No! I don't want to do all that, I want to leave!”

Levi stares down at them, his expression neutral yet intimidating making them gulp slightly, “you have two choices, either wake up bright and early tomorrow to start your training, or leave and try to fend for yourself, however don't expect those shitty doctors not to find you again.”

Safe to say those last words scared them more than he intended because they immediately get up and follow him wherever he's planning on taking them, as long as they don't go back to those scary experiments and tests.

A couple of years later...

“Captain! There you are!”

Levi turns slightly to look at the smiling 17 year old. A lot of changes have happened in the last few years. Y/n is now a different person than the one he first met. They're a lot more relaxed, a lot more happy. They tell him that it's because of their "very awesome and strong captain" but Levi thinks it's their determination to change that got them to where they are now.

“you're done with training for the day?” he asks them as they walk side by side.

“yep!”, they nod their head, “but Hange told me they need me for the experiments they're gonna do with Eren later today, just in case something goes wrong.”

Levi nods and looks ahead, “make sure four eyes doesn't go crazy with the experiments, the more they go overboard the more they'll use your blood and their stupid brain won't remind them that you're not a never ending fountain of healing.”

The young soldier nods, “will do. Plus, I need to take care of myself for the expedition next month, a lot of people rely on me during those.”

There's a moment of silence between them as they walk inside the building. Their relationship has developed into one where they could both stay silent for hours without it getting awkward or uncomfortable, and they both quite like that. Y/n did turn out to be the talkative type, like they're making up for the years they were practically mute, but they mostly rambled with the other soldiers they befriended, with him however, just his presence made them happy.

“Captain ?”

Levi hums to let them know he's listening.

“If Furlan and Isabel were still... Alive, would I get along with them?”

He pauses and looks over at them. He only talked about those two once, and it happened years ago to help them open up and continue training. He didn't think they'd still remember that talk or ask him about them.

“Maybe with Isabel. You're both a pain in my ass and love animals.”

Y/n nods and continues walking. They want to know more about Levi's past, about his life in the underground, about how he got to his position as a captain at the survey corps. They want to ask the people who knew him before them but at the same time they want to hear it coming from the source itself.

He is actually a huge inspiration for them and they look up to him a lot. He is very skillful and smart and they hoped to become like him one day, maybe not humanity's strongest soldier, but something close to that. Levi isn't just a mentor to them, but something much closer. According to their friends who have families, older brothers protect their younger siblings and teach them how to defend themselves, and that's exactly what the captain does to them, so in their heart he is their older brother.

Y/n bites the bottom of their lips as they look over at him nervously. Levi can sense their stare and he can tell they want to ask something else but are too nervous to do so. He sighs as the slowly approaches his office, “spill it out already, brat.”

“I didn't say anything!”

“But I know you want to say something,” he glances at them from the corner of his eyes, “so hurry up, my time is precious.”

Y/n looks down at their shoes to avoid looking at his intimidating eyes, what they're about to request is something very simple, but they're afraid he'd say no.

“...can I nap in your office?”

Levi scoffs. This habit started years ago and it's one of the things that made him gain their trust. They would nap on the uncomfortable sofa he has in his office while he gets work done. He should've never let them do it in the first place but it all happened by accident and now it became a regular occurrence. He planned on stopping it as soon as it started but then Erwin told him to do it and suddenly he didn't feel like doing it anymore.

He has that in common with y/n, being told to do something they were already planning on doing makes them not want to do it anymore. Now that he thinks about it, Hange and Erwin have mentioned on several occasions that spending so much time with him has turned y/n into a mini version of him. Apparently they have the same stare, same speech, same techniques, they even drink tea the same way he does. He never paid attention to those details, but maybe they were right.

“will that get you to leave me alone and not talk my head off?”

Seeing how they excitedly nodded, Levi sighs and opens the door to let them in. They run straight to the sofa where a pillow and blanket are already waiting for them, just like last time, and the time before that.

He would never admit this, not even to himself, but if you look deep down in his heart, you'd find y/n sleeping on a much more comfortable sofa, in a place where they're protected from any harm, whether it's humans or titans. He cares about them at a level he never felt before. Is this how it feels to care about family? Maybe. He never cared about Kenny like this, but it feels close to how he feels about his mother.

Sometimes he likes to imagine what life would be like if titans didn't exist and he never experienced any traumatic events that turned him into the person he is today. It's not always the same thing, but in every version, y/n is standing next to him, being the annoying brat they are, and he couldn't have them any other way.

Levi doesn't believe in religion, yet each day he prays and hopes that nothing will harm them or take them away from him as it has with others he once cared about. Losing them would be his last straw, it would be the last stab to his heart that kills him.

He looks over at their sleeping form from his seat behind his desk, and in that moment he promises to protect them with all his might, even if it hurts others in the process.

[coolprettyleo]

i need to forget - gabe perreault au ☆

wc: 1.1k

tw: depression, mommy issues, daddy issues, mean summer.

gabe perreault x oc

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

summer walked through campus looking like like a train wreck.

the always put-together girl was now seen only pale and with under-eye bags.

she had been going through a lot and the feeling of helplessness was the number one feeling in her mind.

her parent's marriage was falling apart, and every day, she woke up to calls from her father ranting about her mother.

she wouldn't wish this feeling on her worst enemy.

her mother had always been lonely. with her father traveling for work she always found herself a 'companion' as she would call it, in other words, she was committing the act of adultery.

she had been doing it since summer's eighth-grade year, or that's when she finally got caught.

her father always forgave her, but it looked like her mother had finally burnt out her father to the stem.

summer felt completely helpless, and the stress of trying to keep her family together was on her shoulders, even if it was across the country.

she shook off the thought as she entered the library and spotted the boy she was least looking forward to see right now; gabe perreault.

the boy knew how to get on her nerves like a leech, and it always resulted in the two bickering for no end. usually, she liked to be back, but with everything going on, she was not looking forward to it; at all.

"your late," he said as a matter of factly

"sorry, I woke up late," she mumbled as she sat next to him.

gabe observed the girl, noticing the bag under her eyes and the burnt-out look she carried, far from the usual persona summer held.

"are you okay," he mumbled, as if he didn't want anyone to hear that he cared.

"don't act like you care, perreault. let's just get this done so we can both go on with our days," she said moodily.

"there she is" he said grinning as she rolled her eyes and began her part of the assignment.

---

the two teens had been working for about half an hour before they were pulled out of concentration from the buzzing coming from summer's phone.

she declined it before it kept buzzing,

"are you gonna answer that" he asked not being able to concentrate with the buzzing.

"nope" she said as it finally stopped buzzing, before it began to buzz again.

"i can't concentrate"

"it's not my fault you have the attention span of a bee," she sassed as he bit his tongue. gabe could see she wasn't well, and he wasn't an asshole. he wasn't going to annoy her today, but she seemed to be making that challenge quite hard for him.

"what, you're afraid your boyfriend will be mad you're studying with me" he smirked with a bit of a spark in his eyes.

he had seen her with a guy last weekend and they seemed awfully close.

"just shut up. please" she huffed as she shut off her phone.

gabe decided to drop it once again as they got to work.

___

"i'm going to head out. you just need to fill out the last slide of the portfolio and turn it in" she told him as she stood up.

"we still have another hour,"

"correction, you have another hour, I'm done," she said, crossing her arms and walking out.

leaving gabe to shake his head and watch her walk out.

"she was overly mean today" he mumbed to himself as he began to pack his own things. he'd be damn if he was going to stay in that library alone.

he turned the corner to hear a voice arguing on the phone; as he neared, he heard it was summer's voice, and although he didn't mean to eavesdrop, he still did.

"i don't see why you can't just stop seeing him," she said to whoever was on the phone

"It's lust, Mom," he heard her say with a voice that was raw with emotion.

she was arguing with her mom?

"please don't do this, please," he heard her beg before he watched her lower her phone from her ear. her mom must have hung up.

she let out a choked sob as she leaned back onto the wall. Summer could care less that she was in public; her mom was leaving her dad, claiming she finally learned was 'love' is.

gabe watched her for a moment, fighting with his thoughts on whether or not he should announce his presence.

"summer?" he said acting like he had just arrived.

the girl's head whipped up to see the last person she wanted to see her like this standing in front of her. She wiped her tears and rolled her eyes before trying to rush past him.

"you didn't see anything, perreault"

"are you alright," he said blocking her

"move" she told him

"summer"

"please, gabe," she said beggingly.

"you don't have to tell me what's wrong, just let me take you to get some food or something, I doubt you've eaten today," he said seriously.

summer did not expect him to say that. she was honestly expecting him to start mocking her and call her a spoilt princess.

"if I go, you won't tell anyone you saw me having a mental breakdown outside the library?" she said sniffingly.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone anyways" he told her.

she observed him, looking for any hint of jokingness, but he looked wholeheartedly genuine. she could use some food, but with gabe?

she decided against the alarms that were going through her head and agreed to join him.

"sorry i've been mean to you, i've just been going through a lot and it's not your fault at all, i'm sorry" she mumbled as they started walking towards the closest ihop.

"it's fine, i kind of got you weren't up to play today" he chuckled

"you call what we do playing," she said with a raised eyebrow

"well, I'm playing most of the time, but then you go deep, and I actually get mad," he said, smiling, seeing as he was finally pulling a smile out of the girl.

"im sorry it's just really funny when i piss you off" she laughed

"why," he said throwing his arms up

"same reason you do" she smirked as he playfully rolled his eyes

the two walked into the closest IHOP, not knowing the relationship that was beginning to blossom.

[silassinclair]

Introduction!!

Yandere Ghost x Reader

CW// Suicidal Thoughts, Paranormal Activity, Murder Mention

My other yand OC Maddox was a hit with ya’ll so here’s a short introduction of a new oc!! Hope you like him as much as I do. This is gonna be very boring because it’s an introduction but I’ll make a oneshot right after this one!!

Masterlist!!

“This key unlocks every door in the manor. Except the door to the attic for some reason, but there’s nothing of importance up there. Apparently it’s just some old junk the first owner left.” The agent said with a tight lipped smile. Her matte red lipstick was as bright as a stop sign.

Taking the key from her hand you’re surprised to feel how heavy it is. “Thank you.” You mutter.

“All the legalities are settled so she’s all yours. I recommend blasting that ivy off the side wall of the house though. The roots can mess up the brick.” The agent adds.

“Alright, I appreciate the tip.” You say and shut the door in her face, leaving you alone in your new home.

Maria was a total pain in the ass, like all people who work with selling things. Oh and for the record, you like the ivy that grows on the side of your new home. Makes it look pretty and natural. Anyways, her being gone was like a breath of fresh air. All was good now that you finally had a place to call home.

Your Grandfather died and in the will he left you his summer home in Italy. It was a grand manor that was located on a hilltop surrounded by forrest. It was perfect for your hermit self. Never in your life would you imagine leaving the states to come live in Italy but here you were. After all the manor was handed to you on a silver platter, the offer would be foolish to refuse.

There was nothing for you in the states. Your life was miserable, draining, and filled with nothing but painful repetition. Being worked like a machine and stepped on like a doormat. Having a horrid and overly possessive ex boyfriend who was a serial cheater didn’t help either. You were so close to ending your miserable existence until a woman named Maria gave you a call.

And now you were here, standing in the foyer of your new home. Some work would need to be done. Floors needed polishing, corners dusting, windows wiping. Maybe you should make a checklist?

"This is gonna be a long day.." You think to yourself.

"There she is again. She must be the new owner." I think to myself as I watch the young woman clean the floor.

The past owner, Lorenzo, must have passed away and put the ownership of the manor into this girl's hands. It has been a while since I’ve seen the old man. But did he have to put my home in the hands of some uncultured American? I find this terribly irresponsible of him, I mean look at her!

She's using a bleach based product on the hardwood! Lorenzo was a good owner of the Verona manor. He hired staff to keep it well maintained and he rarely ever visited. But this girl... she's an utter buffoon. Before she can torture the hardwood any longer I swiftly hover behind her and move the bottle a few feet away from her while she isn't looking.

"Huh?" When she reaches for the bottle she finds it has moved away. I snicker at her confused reaction.

"It was just right here..."

She reaches over and grabs it again but before she does I kick it, sending it flying across the foyer and hitting the front door.

“Any minute now she’ll run away screaming, she won’t even look back.” I think to myself with a devious grin.

But when I hover in front of her I only see an annoyed expression on her face.

“Uhm… Did I do something wrong?” She says.

I freeze, is she not afraid? Why was she talking as if she were talking to someone? Can she see me?

“I asked if I did something to upset you.”

And then her eyes move up and look right into mine. For the first time in centuries I feel as if I have ignited, that I am alive and that my heart once again beats like all other human beings.

“You… Can you see me?” I ask hesitantly, afraid that if I may speak too loudly she’ll scamper away like a mouse.

Her soft lips part slightly as she nods.

He told me his name was Dante Verona. He was the original owner of the Verona manor and he comes from an Italian royal family. But he was assassinated centuries ago in this very manor during a masquerade party. So I assume that his spirit is trapped here. He was wearing an intricate black, red, and white Venetian mask that hid his face. He wore matching black and red noble attire and his hair was a curly dark chocolate brown that went down to his neck.

Overall he was a total mystery. His entire existence was perplexing to me. Yes I do believe in the paranormal but never would I think I’d meet a real life ghost.

“I assume your grand father is Lorenzo? Has he passed on?” Dante asks, cutting through the thick silence.

I blink a few times, maybe if I blink hard enough he’ll disappear and that’ll confirm that this was all just my imagination. So I blink, but Dante’s translucent self is still hovering in front of me. The blank expression of his mask makes me slightly uneasy. I couldn’t get a read on the guy at all.

Coughing, I finally answer, “Uhm yeah… He was my grand father. He left me this manor in his will. And he didn’t mention any ghosts or anything like that.” I add.

“Lorenzo couldn’t see me. You’re the first to see me actually.” Dante says. His voice sounded smooth but the mask muffled it slightly. But he also sounded like he was in pain. I wonder how long he’s been here, trapped in this manor.

“So this whole time you were all alone?”

“Yes.” He softly replies. “Just me. Only my spirit is here.”

“That must be hard.” I say, but not in a pitying sounding way. The last thing he wants is pity probably.

Dante hovers away and I follow him into the living room. Looking up I see him hover up to the chandelier. He looks down at me, I can see his dark green irises through the black holes of the mask.

“Every day is hard. God has cursed me, rejected my entry into the heavens.” His voice cracks. "My death occurred in the very room we are in."

I look around the oriental room we are in. It has been modernized over the years, but I can imagine how it looked in his century. The masked party people, music, drinks, lies and deception. All of it in the room we are in but centuries before.

"My killer has not been found but I know they are long dead. Knowing that they burn in hell brings me peace. And I have learned to accept that I am to remain here.”

Then he rambles on about his life story. The tragedies he lived through, the friends he made and lost, wars and battles faced, and lovers went and gone. But I don't mind that this conversation is one sided. He has had no one to talk to for centuries so he deserves a listener.

"I apologize my lady. I have droned on for far too long. It's impolite..." Dante says in a dejected tone. But I reassure him.

"Y-You're okay! I understand. You haven't had someone to talk to in a long time I imagine. Besides, I found your life story very interesting."

Dante hovers down to where I'm sat on the couch. He also sits beside me. Leaning in close he tilts his masked face to the side as he comes closer to mine. I move away slightly; his body emits an eerie chill.

"Tell me about you. What is your name?" He asks, his eyes twinkle with an emotion unknown to me.

"I'm Y/n L/n. I originally lived in the United States, but I moved here as you know." I mutter. I've never been one to talk a lot anyways.

Dante looks me up and down. His fingers reach out causing me to flinch back, but he goes to touch the fabric of my black dress rather than my skin. To my surprise his fingers can touch the fabric, they don’t phase through it.

"Why do you wear black? Are you a widow? Has your husband passed on?" He asks softly.

I feel myself giggle slightly and he looks up at me with probably a confused expression.

"I've never been married silly, I'm only 23 years old.”

Dante’s emerald eyes widen. “23 and unmarried? Has the societal norm changed? Because my sister was married off to her husband when she was 16.”

I cringe physically. “Oooh yeah, lots of things have changed. But also I’m wearing black because it’s just my style. It’s called goth, it’s a music based style. I can tell you about it sometime.”

Dante looks at me like I’ve grown three heads. I can see it in his eyes.

“Ahem- Anyways. Why do you wear that mask?” I ask.

Dante breaks the eye contact and looks down at the side. “It does not come off. No matter how hard I try to remove it, it only stays. I cannot remove the clothing either.”

I nod. “Is it because it was the last thing you wore before you died?”

He nods in return.

“I assume so.”

He moves closer to me ever so slightly. His gloved hands caress my h/c locks of hair and then he brushes his fingers across my cheeks and jawline.

“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly.

Dante’s hooded eyes shine with an emotion I cannot read. But I feel like my life from this day forward will never be the same. Can the living and the dead co exist?

Dante Verona. Will we be able to share the same roof?

[a-rat-who-writes]

Kirishima's Alphabet SFW (MHA)

Pls enjoy my lovelies

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?): Kirishima is such a sweetheart when it comes to showing his affection towards you. He obviously enjoys the simple hand holding in public or between classes, but he also strikes me as being a sweet talker as well. He LOVESS complimenting you on your quirk and hyping you up every time before you go into training or a battle. On top of that, he also seems like the type to want to spend as much time as he can with you (of course), so he doesn't mind just laying about beside you while you do your homework because of course he neglects his own until the last minute.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?): I feel like it would really depend on your OC's upbringing, meaning whether or not you met in high school. For simplicity, let's say you did in UA. In the first stages of showing off everyone's powers, you caught his eye. Since getting in high school, he was pretty sociable, so he went up to you pretty early on and showered you with compliments about your quirk, saying things like how you used it was so unique and he wished he had a quirk like yours. After becoming friends and talking back and forth, he ALWAYYSS wants you to be involved in group activities with Kaminari, Mina, and Sero, the usual group. Like Bakugo, if he needs to DRAG you out of your room to get you to hang out, he isn't afraid to

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?): Kiri LOVES a good cuddle sesh. It warms your heart every time you see his hair lying down, and when you guys usually do cuddle you see it like this. There aren't a whole lot of times where you two get to hunker down with each other considering the "rules" in the dorms that people allegedly follow, but on the off chance he can sneak into your room or you sneak into his, it's always a nice time. I feel like he would love resting his head against your chest, nuzzling his nose against it like he's a cat rubbing his scent on you. Kiri I'm afraid is also a bit of a snorer especially when he has had a long day, and although it annoys you sometimes, when it's soft it makes you melt and want to squeeze him to death. He obviously likes to be seen as manly, but he enjoys the occasional moment where you baby him a bit when he doesn't want you to get up or change positions.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?): I feel like it is important to Kirishima that you two do at some point settle down and move in with each other or perhaps even get married some time after he goes Pro. It is a big thing for him to spend as much time as he can with you, and having those special moments devoted to the two of you would make him feel like he’d led a happy life with no regrets if he were to lose in battle. I think that he’s a bit of an amatuer at cooking, only knowing how to do simple dishes, but if cooking is something you’re also bad at, he would definitely make that into a little date idea (seeing who can make the best… or rather least burnt dish). Depending on your quirk and role in UA and the Pro world, he would make sure your space is clean, prioritizing it over his (which is usually a bit of a wreck.) 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?): It would heavily depend on why you two would need to break up, but I feel like how I’ve written Alphabets for other chars like him, he would try and prolong the relationship for as long as possible to try and make things work, but if they really can’t, then he would let you down slowly. Doing the necessities, making sure you two are alone and are sat down. The manly thing to do would be to tell you his feelings about everything and that he thinks you two aren’t a good fit for each other anymore. Rather than think negative things about you, he would still treasure the time you two spent together and wouldn’t think the time you two spent in a relationship was a waste of time at all, rather an experience that he was able to learn about and hopefully improve himself as a person for his next.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?): After his whole mentality change from middle to high school, I think he has gotten over being so hesitant about things, and as mentioned before, he would want to make sure he can have the special moments with you so you two don’t wish you did more with each other if things came to an end. I do think that it would take some time after he became a Pro just to settle into the new life, but he would definitely be the one to propose, crying the entire time he gives his stupid little speech about how he knew you were the one when he first met you and had the conversation about telling each other your names. Honestly I think it would mean a lot more to him if you let him propose to you so he could also show to himself that he is 100% in and devoted to you for the rest of his life.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?): Gentle monster. He is such a big teddy bear. Though he does like picking you up and running around with you, he is literally one of the most caring and self aware people that you know. I feel like no matter the situation there’s always this little inkling in the back of his mind of “Am I doing this right?” “Am I being gentle enough?” “Are they uncomfortable?” But of course, you always assure him that he’s being the perfect boyfriend. Emotionally, I would say he can come off a bit forward sometimes, especially if you are feeling down on yourself, but he once more is always big on complimenting you and telling you that you’re enough and what you did today helped everyone smile a little brighter.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?): HUGGER ALERT. He loves a good hug. He always likes a good hug or kiss before you depart for nighttime if you two see each other before you do. He always goes under and hugs around your waist (totally not because he likes pressing his face against your neck and feeling your flustered reaction). His hugs are usually pretty gentle, but if it’s after a long battle, this man hugs you like his life depends on it, borderline crushing your damn ribs. If he’s proud of you, (which he always is) he also loves to give you a good, tight hug, or pick you up and praise you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?): He thinks inside his head saying this to you A LOT before he actually does say it, admiring how you observe things or the way you act when you’re excited, “God I love them”. I think it’s a bit of a toss up depending on your forwardness, but I think you’d probably say it first, which TOTALLY catches him off guard when you do. “NO WAY, I LOVE YOU MORE!” He would literally SHOUT back at you, startling you a bit. “I’ve been wanting to say that for so long, I just– I didn’t want to mess it up.” He would follow up. You’d shake your head and tell him that there isn’t a wrong time to tell the people you love that, which made him clutch his shirt in how strong of a statement that was. Safe to say that afternoon was a lovey-dovey one.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?): I think Kirishima, under all of his newfound confidence and strength, still has that small insecure side to him that we all have, so he would get jealous if you continually hung out with someone he wasn’t well acquainted with yet. On the other hand, if it’s anyone in 1-A like Midoriya or Yaoyorozu, he wouldn’t have any issues with you spending time with them, instead encouraging you to be sociable. I think it’s pretty circumstantial the times he gets jealous, but he knows he can trust you. When he does get jealous he definitely makes sure to show you that he loves you with kisses and touches (like on your waist or holding your hand). On top of this though, he’s always been proud to be your boyfriend, so there isn’t really anyone who wouldn’t know the two of you are together. I think you two are both pretty in love with each other regardless of anyone who tried to come in between the two of you, so it wouldn’t matter much if anyone tried to get in the way because he is definitely sure about his feelings for you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?): Kiri’s kisses have a wide range of places and pressure. When things are normal and the two of you are hanging out, he loves to kiss you on the cheek or shoulder randomly to remind you that he’s there with you (but of course, you already know that). I think that one off kisses on the lips would leave him a bit flustered unless he initiated them. Despite how I explained before, this man’s hand placement is immaculate, either pulling you close and holding your lower waist, holding your jaw, or stuffing his hand in the back of your hair, he always makes you melt whether or not that was his intention. I think Kiri loves a good forehead kiss or just a kiss on his head, but anything around his neck would make his ears just about the color of his hair, sucking in breath so as to not accidentally make a fool of himself. I feel like in private he definitely finds kisses on his torso sexy (Bonus points if he’s in his hero costume).

L = Little ones (How are they around children?): I think he actually would enjoy babysitting some young grade school kids, putting them on his shoulders, or holding them upside down. In return, I also think kids really like him too! Especially the girls, I think they would fawn over him a little bit which would make him bashful, an expression you don’t see on him too often. He is also very careful with the kids, making sure that they aren’t hurting themselves or each other, instead encouraging them to use their quirks or anger against him because of his quirk. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?): I feel that if there was a late night in one of your dorms, then he would definitely not want to get up, keeping you close to him until he was either forced to leave or people got suspicious. I think in the morning times he is definitely the cutest because of how askew his hair is and the tired look in his eyes. I think he is also a very warm person, so he would cling to you for a lot of the morning if there wasn’t anything to do, wanting to also feel your warmth outside of the covers. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?): He’s always a bit of a social butterfly, hanging out in the commons with his friends just chatting about the next test or the latest hero gossip. If and when you two are alone in each other's dorm rooms he definitely enjoys staying up with you, coincidentally enjoying the look of how tired you are, letting your guard down around him. Trust is a BIIIG thing for Kiri, so it makes him all warm and fuzzy knowing that he makes you feel safe and that you trust him to protect you if anything happened while you were asleep. I feel he would also enjoy watching movies during these late nights with you, chugging drinks and sharing some food before passing out on top of each other.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?): He’s a relatively open book, wearing his feelings and his ideals on his sleeve. Anyone who knows Kiri knows he is a person who admires people who are strong, trustworthy, honest, “manly”, and admirable in general. I think that if you were to ask him anything about himself, he would be pretty open about it all, giving reasonable explanations for why he feels the way he does instead of brushing the question off and ignoring it. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?): Hence the whole children topic, I’d think he’s very patient with other people, and less so with himself. He always likes to improve himself so he feels like he’s on the same level as his classmates which makes you a little sad to see how hard he can be on himself sometimes, but he wouldn’t ever say what he says to himself to you or any of his friends. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?): I think Kiri’s a little bit of a scatterbrain if he is needing to remember something, but if there is something he knows is important to you, he is set in stone on remembering whatever it is even if he has to constantly put up sticky notes on his walls to remind him. I think there are a lot of random things he remembers about you, for example, some support item you have on your hero costume.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?): Headcanon time! So I feel that one night Kiri would mention something about there being a meteor shower and he insisted on sneaking out of the dorms since it would happen late at night and watch it together. You were intrigued by the idea and agreed, the idea of once more spending some late night time together was something you wouldn’t pass up, and now it had a direct purpose, of course, you wouldn’t pass it up. You make sure to stay up until about 1AM, to which you and Kiri quietly meet in the commons and snuck out of the dorms and around the side to lie down in the grassy field behind the school. You both cuddled up next to each other on top of a blanket and as if on cue, the shower began when you both were settled. The sight was actually quite beautiful when you saw how the subtle lights shot across the sky, your eyes widening as each one passed. You raised up your arm at the initial meteor pointing out that it started before laying back down beside Kirishima. You were almost at a loss for words, having not seen something like that before– the night being filled with more stars than usual too. This entire time, there was absolutely no way Kiri could stop looking at you. He watched the way the lights in the sky reflected over your eyes and the expression you had on your face. His throat went a little dry, to be honest at seeing the way you were just.. enthralled with the sight. He definitely was glad he asked you to spend the night with him.. He just couldn’t look away similar to how you were looking at the sky. When you finally noticed him looking at you, he blushed, looking the other way but you pulled him in for a brief kiss as another meteor shot across the sky. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?): I think this question is already answered if you watched MHA at all. Of COURSE he is protective of you in every scenario! He would always put you before himself, selflessly protecting you from any villain that posed a threat or squashing any insect you were too afraid to kill. Kiri isn’t really one to ask for help, but he would always ask right after the threat is gone if you’re okay and that he’s sorry he didn’t do enough if you did end up protecting him. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?): I think instead of coming up with date ideas on his own or.. Surprising you, he would sit down with you or ask in your free time what you would like to do so he makes sure you’re having a good time. You do a little reverse psychology on him by being unsure and suggesting ideas to see what he seems most enthusiastic about, whichever that is you also decide you enjoy the most. I think for anniversaries, he would always take you out somewhere, whether that’s a fancy dinner or taking you back to a memorable place you two spent some time at (ie where your first kiss was, first date, first interaction, where he first knew he fell in love with you, etc). He isn’t anything exceptional when giving gifts, but he does make sure to get things that you enjoy, like tickets to a singer you enjoy, or a pair of shoes/jewelry you have mentioned wanting before.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?): For those who follow my OLBA Alphabet, I feel like Kiri is also someone who wipes his hands on his shorts which leave occasional stains on them so he has to keep buying more. In addition, I think he also tends to overwork himself a lot, which makes you worry a little and have to ask where he is if he isn’t in his dorm in his free time. He also, which is a bit of a given, is a procrastinator, leaving his homework or studying to the last minute even if he does haphazardly look over his notes every once and a while.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?): Since his little high school glow up, I think his hair is something he usually takes into account most days, making sure to redye it (hc of mine b/c it technically is permanently dyed red) every so often when he sees his roots coming out. A fun hangout between you two is you redying his hair for him while sitting on his lap. He enjoys the physical touch while you also care for him.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?): I think if you two hadn’t ever met (if the show was what it was) he would become a fine hero the way he would if he had met you, but if you two met and then you left his life after dating or becoming a close friend, he would often think about you and dwell on the things you two didn’t do together. I think if he ever got free time in this scenario, he would spend it searching online where you are nowadays and what you’re doing, at least hoping you’re doing well and are healthy.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.): During the middle phase of when you two were talking but not dating yet, Sero and Kaminari would be an absolute PAIN IN THE ASS to Kiri every time you both hung out in the commons or whenever their whole group was out. They would say things like how Kiri seemed so much more “red” than usual, or “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” After you laugh at something he would almost gaze at you as you did. Even after the two of you began going out openly, they would tease you guys at how you two were lovebirds and “...should get a room if you act like that.” 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?): Dishonesty, not being true to yourself, not taking care of yourself, or being beyond too immature. He is a playful guy himself, but if you can’t take moments that are serious, seriously, then it would turn him off quite a bit. He is pretty open to learning about why people are the way they are, so he tries his best not to judge anyone for things so physical. As long as you were good at heart and were someone he could understand, at the end of the day he would give it a chance. (This is heavily because of Bakugo and Kirishima understanding that despite the way people present themselves, there is more than what people show.)

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?): As I mentioned before, SNORRERRRRR he SNORES. I feel like he also tosses and turns a bit when he’s on his own, somehow ending up at the opposite end of the bed, his feet where his pillow is sometimes. If the two of you are sleeping next to each other, I also think he would cuddle you to the point of you overheating. You’d stick it out for as long as you could until wriggling out of his arms to give yourself a small break before returning back to him.

JEEESSSUUSSSS do making these take it out of me. As soon as I saw my second most recent poll flip and go from Heros to 1-A student fluff I got my ass on here and worked. Kiri is one of my favorite chars if you couldn't tell. T^T

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀 ❞

━ lilia vanrouge x fem! reader (reader can either be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ what could be sweeter than leaving lipstick marks all over your dearest? (f/n means first name)

requested by: @sugarkitty839 request type: headcanons requester's message: HELLOO!! Can I request a fluff headcanon abt reader (girl) giving Lilia a bunch of kisses with lipstick florist's note: thank you for the request, little one.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

✦ you found yourself standing before the vanity mirror, looking at your reflection as you applied a certain shade on your lips to enhance your look. there was no special occasion whatsoever, you only wanted to wear lipstick for the day to feel pretty.

✦ you were alone in the room until lilia popped out of nowhere right behind you, making you flinch in surprise and almost smudging your lipstick. you sighed and placed your lipstick down as you turned around, "you scared me."

✦ lilia gave you a cheeky smile and cupped your cheeks with his hands gently, chuckling as he spoke, "apologies, my dear~" he then noticed the colour of your lips as he hummed, "ooh~ wearing lipstick? you look pretty."

✦ you smiled at his compliment and chuckled, pulling his hands away from your cheeks and cupping his face instead.

✦ unexpectedly for the older fae, you started planting your lips all over his face, leaving lipstick marks on his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his lips, his chin, his eyelids, and his jawline. soft giggles and laughs left lilia's lips as you showered him with affection, his arms wrapped around you as he pulled you closer to him while you kissed him everywhere.

✦ "someone's being affectionate~" cooed lilia as you continued to cup his cheeks and placed kisses on his lips several times, staining them with your lipstick darker than the other areas you'd kissed.

✦ lilia would enjoy these a lot, especially once you've left lipstick stains on the places you've kissed. he finds it adorable that his beloved is affectionate and isn't afraid to let him show off to others ━ though others may find it silly or poignant out of sheer jealousy, it also serves as a reminder to everyone and himself that he is in a loving relationship with you.

✦ seeing as he enjoys this a lot, he would buy you new lipsticks once in a while and hand them to you with a cute smile, hoping you'd shower him with the same affection again.

✦ he may claim that he has no favourite spot for you to kiss and he loves it all, but he especially enjoys when you kiss and leave lipstick stains on his lips and forehead ━ a kiss on the lips indicates your attraction to him and a kiss on the forehead indicates your emotional closeness with him.

✦ he totally shows up in the lounge for the three boys to see and he says things like, "your mother figure left these on me.~"

✦ after showering him with kisses, he would always pull you into a hug and perhaps shower you back with kisses. otherwise, he would have his arm around your waist at all times and smile like a lovestruck man the whole day.

✦ there would be times when he returns the favour to you, wearing a nice shade of lipstick and smooching you all over to leave lipstick stains everywhere. his favourite spot would be your forehead and your neck.

✦ after doing these types of kisses frequently, it would be counted as a "tradition" for you to kiss him like this every now and then, to show how much you love and care about him and will continue to do so in the upcoming years.

© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.