#it will always be worth so much more than the hate

[writeriguess]

Hey hun! Welcome back 😘

So, i have a kind of slow burn idea for a Bakugo x fem!reader fic. They both like each other and when she tries to ask him out or talk to him about it, he's kind of an ass 😅

He thinks she'll be in the way or a distraction to his goal, so he pushes her away. He can't get her out of his head though and their friends tell him he's being an idiot. Eventually, he cracks and tells her (in his very 'katsuki' way) that he does want to be with her.

Angst ending with lots of fluff, confessions, and a kiss please!

author's note: Thank you so much! <3 I just wanted to say that your idea was incredible, and I had such a great time writing it. It turned out to be much longer than I expected, but it was definitely worth it!

Heart of Dynamite

It started with stolen glances. You weren’t sure when you first noticed, but something about the way Bakugo Katsuki acted around you was different. He wasn’t nice, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something else buried beneath the rough edges and sharp remarks. A fleeting glance when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he always seemed to hover nearby during group exercises, subtly ensuring you didn’t get caught off guard.

You weren’t blind. You saw the way his crimson eyes would flick to you during lunch, only for him to look away just as quickly if you caught him. You noticed how his explosions during sparring would seem almost… controlled when directed your way—less destructive, more calculated. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder. Enough to make you hope.

The problem was, Bakugo being Bakugo, he’d never admit to something as human as feelings. If he did like you, he was keeping it buried under a mountain of anger, pride, and whatever complicated emotions made up Katsuki Bakugo.

But still, the moments added up. And with each passing day, your crush grew stronger. You hated the way your heart fluttered when he called you by name instead of his usual nicknames for everyone else. You hated how you’d secretly look forward to his biting remarks because, in some twisted way, it was his version of paying attention to you.

And most of all, you hated how much courage it took to even consider confessing to him.

After weeks of agonizing over it, you finally decided you couldn’t live with the "what if." No matter what, you needed to know.

The opportunity came on a rare quiet evening at the dorms. Everyone else had gone out for karaoke, leaving you and Bakugo alone. He was sprawled on the couch in the common area, his arms crossed, staring at some mindless action movie playing on the TV.

You hovered at the doorway, your heart racing. You almost turned back, but then his gruff voice interrupted your thoughts.

"What the hell are you standing there for? You look like a damn idiot."

You flinched, but quickly steeled yourself. "I just… needed to ask you something."

His gaze flicked to you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "Then spit it out already. Don’t waste my time."

Your hands were clammy as you stepped closer, each word feeling heavier than the last. "Do you… want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

For a moment, Bakugo just stared at you. His usual scowl didn’t shift, but you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes—so quick you almost missed it. His jaw tensed, his hands clenching into fists on his lap.

Then, he scoffed. Loudly.

"You serious?" he said, leaning back against the couch like your question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. "Why the hell would I want to go out with you?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your throat tightened, and your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

"I mean, come on," he continued, his tone sharp and cutting. "What makes you think I’d waste my time on something dumb like that?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but not from embarrassment—from the sting of his rejection. You struggled to keep your voice steady. "I just thought… maybe—"

"Well, you thought wrong," he cut you off, his voice cold and unrelenting. "So stop acting like some lovesick idiot and get over it."

The silence that followed was unbearable. You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to step back.

"Got it," you said finally, your voice small and strained. You turned on your heel before he could see the tears pooling in your eyes.

Bakugo didn’t move. He stayed on the couch, staring at the TV that he wasn’t really watching. His nails dug into his palms, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking about you—or himself.

Hours passed, but Bakugo didn’t leave the couch. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind: the look on your face, the way your voice had cracked when he tore you down.

He hated himself for it. Hated the way he’d lashed out, even though he knew it was because he was terrified. Of what? He didn’t know. Maybe of admitting to himself that he cared. Maybe of the fact that you could make him feel so out of control with just one stupid question.

But now it was too late. He’d pushed you away.

You, on the other hand, locked yourself in your room, curled up on your bed, and let the tears flow. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid, so naive. Of course Bakugo didn’t like you. Of course he didn’t care. You’d just been projecting your feelings onto him, imagining things that weren’t really there.

Still, the hurt lingered. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you’d move on, but the ache in your chest said otherwise.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting downstairs, fists clenched, consumed by his own turmoil. Because for all his bluster, he’d never wanted to hurt you. He just didn’t know how to deal with the truth: that he did like you, more than he was willing to admit.

Bakugo tried to convince himself that what he’d said to you was necessary. He had goals—real, tangible goals—and nothing, no one, was going to distract him. Becoming the Number One Hero wasn’t just a dream for him; it was a mission, an obligation, a destiny he was determined to carve out with his own blood, sweat, and tears. He didn’t need complications. He didn’t need feelings. He didn’t need you. That’s what he told himself over and over as he sat alone in his dorm room, glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him. His fists were clenched tightly in his lap, the tendons in his hands straining from the pressure.

But no matter how hard he tried to justify it, he couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your expression had crumbled when he snapped at you, the hurt in your eyes as you turned and walked away—it all replayed in his head on an endless, agonizing loop. He could still hear your voice trembling when you’d asked him out, soft and vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from you. You weren’t the kind of person who let your guard down easily, and he’d taken that rare moment of courage and crushed it underfoot.

“Tch,” he growled under his breath, running a hand through his hair and gripping the strands in frustration. “Stupid.”

He thought that pushing you away would make things easier, but it didn’t. If anything, it made everything worse. You were everywhere. Every time he walked into a room, his eyes automatically searched for you, even when he told himself they wouldn’t. When you laughed with your friends, the sound sent an irritating warmth through his chest, only to be followed by a sharp pang of regret when he remembered the look on your face that night. During training, he found himself tracking your every move without even meaning to, his instincts on high alert every time you dodged an attack or threw a punch. He hated it. Hated how you’d wormed your way into his head and refused to leave. Hated how much he wanted to be near you, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with you.

It didn’t help that everyone else seemed to notice his turmoil. His friends had started giving him strange looks during meals, their eyes darting between him and you as if they were waiting for something to happen. Kirishima, in particular, had been annoyingly persistent, watching him with that infuriatingly knowing expression he always wore when he thought Bakugo was being an idiot. Bakugo did his best to ignore it, but the tension was impossible to escape.

One evening, when the others were hanging out in the common area, Kirishima finally confronted him. Bakugo had been sitting on the couch, staring at his phone without really looking at it, when Kirishima plopped down beside him with a heavy sigh. Mina and Kaminari weren’t far behind, hovering nearby like vultures waiting for a meal.

“Alright, spill it,” Kirishima said, his voice casual but firm. Bakugo barely spared him a glance.

“Spill what?” he snapped, his tone as sharp as ever.

“Don’t play dumb,” Mina chimed in, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ve been acting weird for days, and we all know why.”

“I’m not in the mood for this crap,” Bakugo growled, standing up to leave, but Kirishima quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Bakugo glared at him, his crimson eyes blazing. “Move.”

“Not until you admit what’s going on,” Kirishima said, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air. “You pushed her away, didn’t you?”

Bakugo froze, his scowl deepening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kirishima said, his tone unusually serious. “Come on, man. It’s so obvious you like her. Everyone can see it.”

“I don’t—”

“Save it,” Mina interrupted, stepping closer with a look that could cut through steel. “We’ve seen the way you look at her. And don’t even get me started on the way you lose your mind whenever she partners up with someone else during training. You care about her, and instead of doing something about it, you’re being a total dumbass.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t have time for this crap,” he muttered, shoving past Kirishima and heading for the door. But before he could leave, Kirishima’s voice rang out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

“You think pushing her away will make you stronger,” Kirishima said, his voice softer now, almost sad. “But all you’re doing is proving how scared you are.”

Bakugo’s shoulders tensed, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out,” Kirishima continued, his tone unwavering. “But running from it won’t make it go away.”

For a moment, Bakugo didn’t move. The room was silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, he yanked the door open and walked out, slamming it shut behind him without another word.

That night, Bakugo lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling with an intensity that could have set it on fire. Kirishima’s words echoed in his head, mingling with the memory of your voice and the image of your face. He hated how much it all got to him, how much he couldn’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. He hated the way his chest ached every time he thought about the hurt in your eyes and the way you’d walked away from him, your shoulders slumped in defeat. But most of all, he hated how much he wanted to see you again, to fix things, to say something—anything—that could make up for what he’d done.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to move on. You’d been avoiding Bakugo as much as possible, throwing yourself into training and schoolwork to keep your mind occupied. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time you saw him, whether it was in class or during meals, you felt a sharp pang of hurt that refused to go away. You hated how much he still affected you, even after he’d made it painfully clear that he didn’t feel the same way.

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you’d be fine without him, the ache in your chest lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong to hope, if you’d been foolish to believe that he might have cared about you even a little.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting in his room, wrestling with his own feelings and cursing himself for the way he’d handled things. Because for all his bravado and pride, the truth was unavoidable: he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more he tried to push you out of his mind, the more you consumed his every thought.

The days following your rejection from Bakugo had been a haze of hurt and confusion. You tried to keep yourself busy—extra training, study sessions, anything to keep your mind from replaying the harsh way he’d dismissed you. But no matter how much you told yourself to let it go, it lingered. You still felt the sting of his words, the way he’d looked at you like you were an obstacle instead of someone he cared about. That wound didn’t heal easily.

You avoided him as much as you could. You’d shift to a different group during training, sit at the far end of the cafeteria during meals, and leave the common area whenever he showed up. It wasn’t as subtle as you hoped; your friends noticed, and you were pretty sure Bakugo did too. Still, you couldn’t face him—not after everything he’d said.

What you didn’t know was that your absence weighed on him far more than he let on.

Bakugo was not a man who easily admitted to mistakes. Pride had been ingrained in him from an early age, and he carried it like armor. But lately, that armor felt suffocating, like it was pressing in on him from all sides. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying the hurt in your eyes when he’d lashed out. Every time he saw you purposely turning away from him or laughing with someone else, he felt a sharp pang of regret that he didn’t know how to fix.

Kirishima’s words lingered too. “You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out. But running from it won’t make it go away.” As much as Bakugo wanted to punch him for saying it, he knew it was true. He’d been running from his feelings because they terrified him. You terrified him—not because you were weak, but because of how much power you had over him without even realizing it. And that was what scared him most of all.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. Watching you avoid him, knowing he’d been the one to hurt you—it was eating him alive. If he didn’t do something soon, he was going to explode.

That’s what led him here, standing awkwardly a few feet away from where you sat on the bench outside. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on the notebook in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar. Was this… nerves? He growled under his breath, frustrated with himself. He was Bakugo Katsuki, for crying out loud. He didn’t get nervous.

“Oi.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, and you jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence.

You looked up, your eyes widening for a split second before your expression hardened. “What do you want?”

Bakugo flinched at the coldness in your tone, though he tried to hide it. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” you asked, already sounding exasperated. “If this is about training or some stupid lecture—”

“It’s not about training,” he cut in, stepping closer. His jaw tightened as he tried to find the right words. He wasn’t good at this, but he had to try. “It’s about what I said to you before.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into your expression. “Why are you bringing that up now? You already made your feelings perfectly clear, Bakugo. I don’t need to hear it again.”

He winced at the way you said his name—so formal, so distant. You used to call him Katsuki, back when things were simpler. Back when he hadn’t ruined everything.

“Just shut up and listen for a second, will you?” he snapped, though there was no real heat in his voice. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I… I screwed up, alright? I said some shit I didn’t mean, and I hurt you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your expression softened slightly, but your arms remained crossed, a barrier he knew he’d have to break through. “Then why did you do it? Why push me away if you didn’t mean it?”

“Because I’m a goddamn idiot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. His gaze dropped to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. “I thought… I thought if I let myself like you, I’d lose focus. That you’d get in the way of my goals.”

“And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Now I know that’s total bullshit,” he said, finally looking up to meet your eyes. “You don’t make me weaker. You make me want to be better. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s driving me insane.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but you still hesitated. “You really hurt me, Katsuki,” you said softly, the pain evident in your voice. “I don’t know if I can just forget that.”

He stepped closer, his gaze intense and unwavering. “I’m not asking you to forget it. I’m asking for a chance to fix it. I was a dumbass, and I don’t deserve it, but… I want to try. With you.”

The vulnerability in his voice was so raw, so uncharacteristic, that it left you speechless. You searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was regret and determination.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this,” he interrupted, his hands twitching at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m not some smooth-talking idiot like Kaminari, and I’m probably gonna screw up a hundred more times. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not gonna hurt you again.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. This was Bakugo Katsuki—the same boy who never admitted when he was wrong, who bulldozed his way through life without looking back. And here he was, laying his pride at your feet, just for a chance to make things right.

“You’re really bad at this, you know,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

He huffed, his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly my strong suit.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. For the first time in weeks, you felt the tension between you start to dissolve.

“So, what now?” you asked, taking a tentative step closer.

“Now I do this,” he said, his voice low as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in. His crimson eyes searched yours for a moment, and when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance and kissed you.

The kiss was tentative at first, almost shy, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hands reaching up to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer. He kissed you like he was trying to make up for every moment he’d wasted, pouring all the unspoken feelings he couldn’t put into words into that one act.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting together, you were both breathless. He smirked, his usual cocky confidence creeping back in. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “You’ve got a long way to go, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed the gruffness of his tone. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and prove it.”

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right.

Feel free to request <3

[colorlessjay]

hello! may be a weird request but do you have any fanfic recommendations?

BUCKLE THE FUCK UP

OH DO I HAVE SOME RECS FOR YA'LL

Mind you, 90% are based on personal preference and fics I think about way too often than I should. A lot of them influenced the way I make characters interact

Some of them might not be your taste and that's cool!

First off, Gotta promote the fics that people wrote inspired by my art (I am truly honored)

Time Cast A Spell On You by bethefirstwhoeverdid

Cabin of Feathers by Featherpie (Izupie)

Return To The Past by faeryn

NOW FOR MY COLLECTION

Just any fic written by everandanon

I swear to you, all of their fics are worth a read. They are frustrating (In a good way for me) but the worldbuilding, comedy, dialogue, and character interactions always have me physically getting up and laughing. At one point during Quarentantion, I had to stop reading to rant to my friends about it because it made me feel so much that I went to 3 different friends about it. With Interest actually made my heart physically hurt at certain points. Expectations had me on a roller coaster ride But if you think their fics are a little overwhelming, I recommend reading Casicorn. It's the first ever fic I read from them and it solidified my love for this author. I swear I am on my hands and KNEES waiting for them to finish their newest fic

Where All My Journeys End - (a Twist and Shout alt universe) by Say_It_In_Enochian

Did reading Twist and Shout devastate you? Did it emotionally hurt your heart and make you wish there was something to make the pain lighter? READ THIS FUCKING FIC NOW I got so fucking lucky when I found it immediately after reading T&S and when I tell you the JOURNEY this fic took me? It healed my soul The struggles, the history, the relationships, the LONG fight to get to their happy ending I am FLOORED this doesn't have 1000 Kudos!

The Ed Sheeran Effect by tricia_16

It made me laugh. That's it. It's sweet and funny and really fun and just feels very campy, like it could've been a decent movie I would rewatch on days I just feel like feeling good Am I a sucker for HighSchool/College AU fics? Yes do I fucking care? No

The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot)

I. fucking. love. this. fic The story alone was so interesting but it was the DIALOGUE that hooked me in. I swear I think about this fic in the middle of drawing and go "Damn, good times" like it's a long lost friend

Slide Away by Castielslostwings

It's the TENSION that got me. I can't explain to you how much I just love their hate-pining for each other Read it, love it, in my digital bookshelf

Sleep Without You by turningthepages

Hilarious. The density is so high it could float. I swear to god I've read this fic at least three times and think about it once a week I remember reading it and cackling so much that I woke up my mom

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)

I wish this fic had a follow-up that was just Dean's perspective because I would LOVE to read more of it. The situation is so absurd and I binged it all in one day (I'm a very slow reader)

Pinfall by crowleyo

I'm gonna say it. I'm so actually angry this fic doesn't get enough attention. It is so so SO well-written and heart-wrenching. Am I still a sucker for highschool sweethearts? YES! I OPENLY ADMIT THIS! But COME ON

Of fuming and partaking and so on by zation

This fic and literally any fic from Zation. I absolutely love the way this author writes. It's so funny and self-aware and the dialogue and scenarios always keep me entertained and laughing They have such a large catalog of fics that I'm pretty sure I have at least 15 saved on my phone

Mr. Blue Sky by anyrei, queerwolf79

This fic specifically and literally ANYTHING from these two. I swear, a lot of their fics are certified bangers. Mr. Blue Sky is probably a personal favorite of mine cause I actually teared up

Love Me More by Saiorse_Irvyne

I'm not the biggest fan of A/B/O stuff, but MAN this has me feeling things. When a fic makes me feel strong emotions, I just gotta recommend it

Lock and Key by tricia_16

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's THAT good

Kind Of A Forever Deal by komodobits

It's FUN. It's FUNNY. It's so fucking campy and cute and the progression of their relationship was just AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It's Always the End of the World Somewhere by Annie D (scaramouche)

I can sit here and recommend Annie D's fics all DAY, but I'm recommending this one specifically because of this: “Get a room, assholes,” someone mutters. “Hey!” Crowley whirls on the offender. “I could set on you on fire!” And that's one of many fantastic quotes

Cinderwings by bendingsignpost

One of the first fics I've ever read from this fandom, and I recommend it to ANYONE regardless of whether they know Destiel or not. The story is so fucking captivating it makes me want to eat my foot it's so GOOD

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Do I have a type when it comes to fanfics? Yes

But I like gravitating towards funny dialogue and silly shenanigans. I thrive off of fun fics that sometimes take themselves seriously, but still pull me back and make me laugh

If a fic can make me feel such a strong emotion that I PHYSICALLY have to get up? Then fuck yeah it's going in my archives

I would recommend some of the darker fics I have, but this is for fun

[r0-boat]

Whb AU where everything's the same but the Demons are dragons

Something something Bible quote something something dragons are the devil something something whatever cool ass lizards.

Satan

A white Wyvern with blood red markings, It's piercing red eyes, The same color that stains the ground and on the scales of his true form, burn with a fire ignited from wrath burning ever constant. Contrast to his white scales and ghostly tattered wings It's horn sit like a crown atop his head It's tips speckled with that same red color, his markings end at his tail which slithers on the ground does it approaches you.

The smallest of the seven, and hates it. Always snarling and huffing when he's angerly yelling at another king You can see his pupils go into pin pricks as you can see his throat glow a orangen yellow as smoke begins to seep out from his mouth.

Satan has fine scales and spines along his head neck all the way down to his tail which like to puff out like an angry cat when he's agitated making him look like a puffer fish with wings.

Satan prefers his human form when he's not fighting seriously, since it gives him an excuse to use his horde of fast vehicles and weapons. Hehe; He likes sharpie explody things. Despite being their king his dragon form is actually the smallest even among his subordinates.

When his scales are about to shed they turn black before falling off. His scales can be sharpened and used for many things. Including daggers and sometimes even bullets or the heads of arrows. The scales are sharp and light.

Mammon

The onyx mane of this lung dragon glitters like jewels working beautifully with the gold scales and horns That decorate this beast. Black markings adorn his face and down his body like tiger stripes. He is benevolent in his in his own way. His golden eyes shine with Greed. Anything that his eyes fancies is his. His metallic scales shimmer like gold, And they are worth more than their weight in gold.

Lung dragons are usually elegant elegant yes but delicate no. His scales are smooth and as hard as stone. He loves them very much So much so He always keeps his tail or at least part of his scales showing from his human disguise.

A shame he never got a painting done of his late father He was the most beautiful bronze you've ever seen if you thought his mane was beautiful before His father was wild and flowing. He could grow it out if you like.

When his scales fall he likes to keep them His favorite thing to do is contact his jeweler fasten his scales into jewelry so he can adorn his favorite subjects and other things he likes with them. It's a good way to staking his territory He's not the only dragon who does this.

His scales are not only great for jewelry but also armor However given how much Just one scale go for and you do need a lot for a single piece that covers your body It is extremely expensive. Mammon has two bedrooms, His normal human one and his dragon lair where it's just decked with shiny gold coins and other jewels have too many imperfections for his personal treasure museum.

Leviathan

Wyrms, large ugly serpents found tumbling through the earth or in the deep depths of the ocean. But this one, This one is different It's pearly smooth scales reflecting vibrant pinks and purples. If you look closely you could see Platinum underbelly. It's silver eyes glow and pierced through you unreadable unmoving watching your every move as its tail holds you in place. It's Envious heart itching to coil around anything it fancies hiding it from the rest of the world that isn't itself. At the same time wanting to squeeze until the potential threat's lights go out.

He hates His true form his everything. He doesn't even shed his scales like the other kings instead His scales all come off at once like a snake shedding his skin He itches like crazy. When this happens he spends most of his time in a hot bath his human disguise half faded his torso is still human but everywhere else is serpent.

He prefers his human form for very obvious reasons... Hands; legs. When he's not in the room His subordinates fond over briefly in the early years when he took his human form as he was not used to standing on two legs. Even now if you're very lucky you can catch him stumbling over and hopefully you'll live to tell the tale.

As a dragon, he is more called blooded than his relatives. Levi craves warmth. Craves it. His entire body is constantly cold, and as much as he hates to admit, human bodies are very warm. So once winter starts, congratulations, you are now his human heat rock by force. Take everything you touch that is his and warm it up right now! Even though he looks like he belongs in the water and can swim very well, Levi's sensitive to temperature Even if water temperature in particular doesn't harm him. Leviathan prefers warmer tropical water.

Leviathan's true form is actually the biggest, But you'll never know since he's always coiled up. Despite not having limbs in his true form He's perfected his magic to use long snaking appendages to grab and hold whatever he wants.

Beelzebub

The more food a dragon has access to, the bigger it gets. Even though these kings of lizards grow very slowly, there is only one exception. Despite Fae Dragons supposedly being miniature, the Gluttonous appetites of the inhabitants of Abyssos make these dragons grow and grow. Its insectoid velvety wings shimmer with greens, yellows, purples, and oranges with intricate patterns. It has one horn similar to a unicorn but it's head is crowned with a ribbon like antennae. Start the beast It's tale with flexible fins stir in the air like rudders on a boat as it flies in place looking at you with interest... Or perhaps hunger?

While the other kings roars shake the ground His is song like and rhythmatic sending chills down your spine as it echoes through the sky.

In his true form Beel Actually has two pairs of jaws You just can't see his other pair since it's attached giving it the illusion of his normal maw. He also has mandibles folded on both sides of his cheek. They blend into his face so well at first glance you could never notice until you look very close. This translates to his human form albeit more like lines on his face and an unhingable jaw.

He is the most insectoid of his class all other fae dragon are not only well smaller than him... They're also more butterfly like where he is more moth like. Very fluffy! And please don't freak out when in battle he loses a wing or two unlike insects that when their wing scales break they will never grow back His wings and limbs can constantly grow back forever. In fact the scales on his wings always shed like pollen. It's shimmers like glitter.

He also eats his clones a fact that he loves to tell you with a smile just to watch you squirm. You remember other facts about insects and if you ask him that if he eats his lovers he just silently stares at you his smile widening more.

Lucifer

You thought he was a Drake at first glance, but then you realize The feathering nubs on his back where his wings should be; he was a dragon, The Dragon. He is a perfect amalgamation of scales and feathers. Its feathers and scales were white as snow other than the bright red horns on his head, the red scar across his body, and, of course, hisbehold. It. His snout was narrow, raptor-like. Just like his White irises glowing through the black voids of What should be white and his sharp black curved claws. As he lays before you, his wings or what's left of them move to spread out like a prideful peacock. If he could still soar, what a sight it would behold.

Lucifer once was an angel turned into a beast as a punishment for his own pride. He is still used to this draconic power as he has not fully mastered transforming and staying in his human form. He occasionally preens what is left of his wings. And other feathers. Pin feathers are the bane of his existence, and he can't reach the ones on his wings. Tiny human hands are always a blessing to have around. He can't help but move his giant dragon snout, trying to preen or pick at your own. He knows humans do not have pin feathers, but it feels nice.

He could always heal himself just like any demon can but he refuses to Even when his scales grow back in places he doesn't want He purposely picks them off. When his scales are grinded into a fine powder they're curiously bitter to the taste but a very potent with magical and medicinal properties. Ingesting the powder and/or god forbid the scale is highly ill-advised without proper preparation at as it is very poisonous.

"This is my son little brother." The beast grumbles in his true form He disappears for a second only to come back with a young man dangling from the collar He is leaning lanky His clothes slightly overgrown as if the tailor had no idea how to make clothes for a human. What really got your attention was his blue hair with icy blue eyes. you can't tell if the hair has been dyed or natural You've seen crazier shit in hell So it wouldn't surprise you. Lucifer puts him down and exclaims "He is human just like you. He needs human friends, please get along." This man has A pendant around his neck radiating magic. Perhaps this is what he uses to slow the growth of his tiny kid.

His true form is the largest of the seven without his wings. Sometimes he forgets he doesn't have them It's kind of awkward when he's trying to fly before realizing he can't. An odd thing he's picked up, instead of running how you would expect a dragon to run He actually gallops like a horse. He will admitly deny no matter how wrong he is. Perhaps he picked this up from watching horses.

Belphegor

With its long serpentine body sprawled across its layer at first you thought the black serpent was another one of Leviathan's kind But that's when you noticed upon the snoring beast front limbs folded as its face smushed into the pillow. The Lindwurm moved suddenly spooking you the mountain of pillows and blankets fell off its face as you got a better look. It's jet black main usually slipped back messy. It turns out dragons also get bedhead. It rolled Sloth-like onto its stomach It's whole body rotating with it that's when you saw more of its fur it's serpentine body stretched out with its One pair of front limbs letting out a loud yawn It's sort of reminded you like a cat.

Leviathan hates his long serpentine body but Belphegor fucking loves it. His long body if it weren't for a size could fit anywhere. Well that won't be a problem anymore actually since one of his beloved and very smart and very hardworking subordinates is currently working on a chemical compound that could shrink dragons down to size... Just think of all the napping spots!

If it weren't for the fact he lacks hind legs he would look exactly like a lung dragon. Belphie does not care. Walking sucks ass, how could anyone humans or dragons in their human form put up with walking on two legs. It's so much easier to slither. In fact he hardly uses his front limbs for anything other than support when he wants to lay down in a different way.

If it weren't for humans being so fragile he would absolutely lay right on you. Lindworms being a weird mix of Lungs and serpents they are also more cold-blooded. Unlike Leviathan who dreadedly hates cold anything. Belphegor loves the cold It makes him feel nice and sleepy. He doesn't like having too much warmth The only warmth he wants is your body heat. Congratulations another cold reptile laying directly skin contact onto you.

His room is a lot larger with a fuck ton of pillows and blankets all in one corner That's how he likes it when he is sleeping that's when he has less control over his forms as he shifts freely in his dreams be careful when you're snuggling him. And if it wasn't for a very nice subordinate of his, he would lay his entire collection of anime manga and other otaku stuff in a pile right next to his giant nest.

Asmodeus

This Drake moves in a way that disturbs you as it stalks and circles you. Its wild eyes roamed your body with such lust that it made you shiver. This dragon has perfected his form so well that he has many forms. But he prefers his "natural" appearance, bland, unassuming, smooth, leathery skin as black as night. The only thing with a splash of color is the thorns, chains, and flowers he decorates with. And a single blood-red eye. His hatchlings His beloved babies steam to take all sorts of draconic elements, whether feathers, scales, or fur.

"have you ever laid with a dragon?" He says with a smile...."Do you want to?"He also has a half form like Levi, But it looks less clean and more werewolf-ish more monstrous. He almost always shifts when he's trying to mate with you.

His horde is the red prison, delicious little sexual freaks that he collects in all corners of hell. And he thinks you'll be the prettiest addition of them all. He will shower you with all his treasures; all of them.

Instead of a powerful flame like all the others, he breathes a neurotoxin. His saliva is also toxic. With sharp serpentine-like fangs, he can control the right dosage. Only four dragons of the seven have venom. Leviathan's venom paralyzes, Belphegor makes your body go numb and limp, Lucifer's saliva thins your blood; Asmodeus's venom is sweet to the tongue and heavily intoxicates. Making his victim nice and suggestible.

His lack of wings does not concern him in the slightest. Even if he could magically produce wings, he couldn't fly with them; it would only be for show. Who needs flying when you can have someone big and strong? Carry him... No King will ever volunteer.

Bonus lightning round with random demons :D

Sitri & Amy:

Lindwyrm and Drake They fight a lot sometimes they'll turn into their true form Sitri trying to strangle Amy. As he tries to bite and tear into his flesh. I see Amy as a Drake that will run at full speed before tackling full force into an enemy while Sitri rather wait for an ambush strike.

Beleth

Tatzelwurm It's like a snake lindworm cat, It's an Alpine folklore animal but it looks very yokai like. His venom but also have the same alcoholic properties as Asmodeus, His flame is very weak He only uses it to light his Cigarette.

Naberius

Hydra in his true form his emotions split into three heads.

Stolas

Cockatrice I love him, bird lizard with his little crown. *Adds Fluffed up cockatrice trying to look scary here*

Bael

Fae Dragon, in my head he has a butterfly dragon trying to mimic a moth! Insects in the animal kingdom love their mimicry!

Foras

amphiphere You can pry this headcannon out of my cold dead hands. He would just look like Leviathan but with feathers and wings, and with more Sakura pink color. His wings are very soft so he flies silently.

Barbatos

Salamanders are a combination of drakes and lungs with multiple limbs. They have lots of limbs, and they are said to have fire capabilities. But this one seems to never use those combustible flames, instead soaking in the sun in a field of beautiful red roses.

Zagan

Wyvern Zagan never uses his true form around you because he wants you to feel more comfortable with him. When he is in his true form he just stares at you like how a big dog stares at a little kitten before picking you up like- 'This small thing is mine now.'

Bimet

I'm so stuck between Lung and Kirin AAA. Lung fits him more but I have yet to use Kirin... Maybe that one horse character from the new chapter can be a Kirin.

Gamigin

Human because it's funny, Lucifer and his tiny human baby. Whether he is a full-grown adult or a child is up to you. I just thought It'd be cute for a scary dragon to haul a small toddler around on his back.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

YOU ONE OF THEM QUEERS???

Yandere Conner Kent x Weird black!reader

So what if you invited your brother's best friend to watch One Piece with you? He said he never had! What kind of psycho has never watched One Piece? You thought, but then again, the psycho was a test tube baby; he wouldn't know about the amazing run of Disney Channel back in the day, how it used to be, or how hyped everyone was for the Kaido fight with Luffy, or understand the cultural significance of a DBZ movie in theaters. You had to show this little lab rat the greatness of TV. Sure, he knows, but he doesn't know more. I mean, he never rushed home to watch Toonami after school. You had to teach him, and well, your little guinea pig was eager to know. Connor wanted to get closer to you in every way possible—be your best friend, be your favorite superhero, maybe even boyfriend if you catch the hints he's dropping. No, he doesn't just want to play Smash Bros; he wants you guys to be more than tag team buddies, but you'll only see him as something friendly. He calls you "babe," and you hit him with a "bro," you're breaking the poor boy's heart. He holds your waist; you think it's just a friendly gesture. He leans his head on your shoulder, smelling the cocoa butter you spread in your dreads and how it sticks to anything he wears. But to you, "Awe, the little guinea pig is sleepy," you teased, and this was the night you invited him over to the mansion. I mean, there's literally an entertainment room; it would be a shame not to watch the best story created by my man on a freaking projector!

"Wow, you're early; the popcorn ain't even poppin'!" you joked, a coy little smile on your face.

"I like being on time, babe," he smirked back, entering the mansion. "Hey, no boots, mister! This floor is hardwood, and I know you walk around in mud!" you warned, but there was still a playful edge to it.

“Ugh, babe, buy me a drink first before you see my feet!” Conner said with a big grin, and you made a fake gagging sound, causing the two of you to laugh. You took him by the hand and pulled him to the entertainment room.

"So how far are you in One Piece?" you asked. You forced him to watch it, but you couldn't call it force, because he watches it with you, telling him to listen and obey whatever you say. "Don't watch the movie; it's a waste of money." He was looking forward to it, but if you hate it, he hates it too. "Yuck, I hate the comic writer; he retcons almost everything if he can't fit it into a plot." If it's that bad, he won't read their comics.

"This fandom is pretty toxic, but come on, the merch is amazing! I mean, look at these MHA pins; they're too cute!" If you like those pins on your bag so much, then he'll wear a Todoroki pin on his leather jacket to make you smile.

You sat with Conner in the theater; it was the whole Cake Island arc. You were already on Wano, but Conner was new to the game, so you didn't mind going a couple of arcs back for him. His head was laid gently on your shoulder; you felt him sniff you and nuzzle his nose into your neck, which made you giggle.

"Dude, quit staring in. Try to pay attention; this is important for later arcs," you always say, but you're way more important to him.

"You say that every time," Conner huffed.

"Cause it is!" you gave a half-hearted laugh.

You looked down at him, and for some reason, the glowing light of the projector made you look stunning. The blue light cascading on your dark skin made you look so surreal, as if you weren't from this planet.

"Come on, Conner, just pay attention for a minute. I promise it'll be worth your while," you said softly. It felt so intimate, like you guys were in an actual movie theater, and you were like.

"Shhh, baby! We can't make out right now; the fight scene is happening." You're such a dense dork, but oh, it just makes it even better.

"Yeah, I'll pay attention." News flash: he won't. He'll be too busy staring at you and how your face lights up during the fights. His super hearing means he'll still listen, but he'd rather watch you, and maybe later he'll watch a YouTube video explaining the arc.

"God, I wish I were as cool as Sanji. He looks so wicked in that red cape! You know, you should really get a cape like that. I know your whole thing is leather jackets, but come on, you have to try out red. Plus, I heard it makes a person's eyes..." You trailed off as you turned to look at Conner, who had his full attention on you, and, God, it made you blush a slight purple.

"Shit, I'm rambling again. I know you don't want to hear me yap. Good, I feel like such a skeeze-"

"No, you're not," he said softly but firmly. It made you giggle like a schoolgirl.

"What?~" you said, nervously

"I like your voice a lot, baby." Now, when he says it like that, it doesn't feel like a cute little nickname he came up with.

"And I like it especially when you talk about shit you like. You're so passionate about it; you don't see that with regular people. You're so genuine," he continues, getting closer. You turn away, covering your face. God, you're such a dork. He just wants to take you right here and now, but that would be unlawful.

"So what, you think I'm cool or something?" You laughed with a half-hearted smirk.

"I think you're amazing, babe," he answered, grabbing your face to look at him, and you laughed, covering your mouth with your hand. This made Conner laugh too.

"I'm trying to be smooth, and you're laughing at me!" Conner chuckled.

"Smooth? Yeah, right! You're as smooth as the acne on my forehead!" Then you both burst out laughing, your foreheads connecting. "Goofy-ass motherfucker!" you said in between giggles.

"Come on, baby, you know I've moved some; they say I've got rizz~" You pushed Test Baby to the side, snorting.

"Who the hell lied to your bum ass?" you snickered.

"No one!" He protested.

"Uh-huh," you pulled yourself closer to him, wrapping your long arms around his neck. "You have no game."

"You just don't want to admit I'm cooler than you," he quipped.

"In your clone dreams," you snapped playfully.

"You're in my cloned dreams," he said, your face getting uncomfortably close; it made you laugh.

"That shit was corny as hell," and you and Conner giggled some more; he felt your touch ever so gently.

"Can I?"

"Can you?"

He then pressed his lips to yours, and Conner could have sweated as he ascended to another state of being. Your lips tasted like buttered popcorn and cheap soda—something he loved more than anything, especially if that flavor was you. He pulled you closer, his hands wrapping around your slim waist. Your hand was now placed on his cheek as you felt him slowly start to get on top of you, and you let him. And shit, who cares if you're kissing your brother's best friend? He should have called dibs by now.

You gasp for air, but Conner doesn't let you recover. He presses his lips against you hard this time, passionately. He has kissed a whole ton of people before, which gives him the experience you lack. You feel him suck on your tongue, and you whimper just a little, shivering. Is this how it feels to kiss? ‘Cause if it is, God fucking bless! You feel his gloved hand reach underneath your Wonder Man hoodie. You grab his arm and pull away. He hears the great Superboy whine like a puppy, and it makes you snicker just a little. Your hand that was on his cheek moves to his now swollen lips.

"Kon, pay attention; this part is important. This is when Luffy fights Katakuri, and we get to see his Devil Fruit," you whispered against his lips. Da fuck? You stopped good kissing and touching for an anime fight??

Your lucky he thinks your hot.

(Made this one while listening to chapple roan God I love that little lesbian)

[bajibitch]

Silly me - Clark Kent

"Your name?" The receptionist’ voice pulled you out of the shock you felt being at the infamous Daily Planet. You managed to say your name but it came out a bit shaky and he let out a soft chuckle. "You'll fit in great." The space you'd be working in was small like you expected but seeing the surrounding work spaces was a bit intimidating. It was easy to get distracted picking up pieces of the stories they chatted about but the dizziness that came with it was enough to remind you to focus. Where would you start, how was it that people found stories again?

“First day?” Looking up from your desk, you met a pair of enchanting blue eyes on a beautiful face. The smile he wore didn’t make it any easier to turn away. Your face was hot from the lack of preparedness, hopefully, he didn’t think you were forming a crush, it’d be embarrassing, he’d be right but you wouldn’t admit it.

“Is it obvious?” You thought you were playing it off well given that you managed to type out an exaggerated amount of the food article with little effort. “What am I doing wrong?” Surely an employee wouldn’t interrupt your work for nothing, or so you thought.

“Nothing, you seem to have it handled.” He eyed the screen with your nearly complete work. “I’m still cramming in yesterday's story.” His laugh was going to be in your mind later. Although it was short it managed to sound so wholesome and warming in the small time it had. “It’s just, I've never seen you around before.” His arm was resting on the computer monitor, if he was anyone else it would’ve irked you but he had good intentions so you’d ignore it for now.

“I started today, used to work at a different company in Oklahoma.“

“How was it there?” You considered offering him a chair to sit in since it felt as if he planned on hearing your life story.

“Given that it was my first job in journalism it’ll always have a special place in my heart, but I wanted to be somewhere more interesting.”

“You didn’t catch any stories?”

“Nothing worth mentioning, I did an article on food and the impacts of-” Nothing worth mentioning but I’ll list every one. You put a hand to your forehead as you cursed yourself for not catching the prattling sooner.

“Why’d you stop?” He took a glance around the office and stared back at you. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you sighed and went back to typing out your work. “I just have to finish this.”

“I’ll be out your hair then. It was nice meeting you… I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t get yours either.”

“Clark. Clark Kent.” You stopped your typing and locked eyes with him once again.

“Y/n.”

“Well, y/n, I’ll catch you later.”

The strange thing for you is that usually when people tell you that, they never meant it. It was more like an, I’ll see you should we meet again kinda ordeal, not a follow you out of the office kinda thing.

“What is it, Clark?” You turned to see him not too far behind. His suit seemed a tad too big for him but it added a soft look to him.

“Just checking in on you. How’d you feel about the job? It’s not too much is it?”

“You aren’t from here either, are you?” He tilted his head and his lips parted but nothing came out. “You’re nicer than plenty of the people I’ve met so far. Some of them get irritated from my smile alone.” That’s why you learned to hold a poker face, the city lost its charm rather quickly when you arrived. His shoulders dropped and his lips had its default curve that made him sweet on the eyes.

“I used to live out in the country too, but as much as they tried, they could never break my smile.” Oh, you had to admit by now that he was hard to hate, not that you ever did. His spirit was almost contagious, the smile on your face showing he already infected you, maybe a harmless work crush wouldn’t be bad after all.

“Ready to go?” The both of you turned to the woman who needed no introduction, her work spoke for itself, she was a bit of a celebrity herself. You were shocked to see him kiss her with no hesitation and looked away from the affection. It was clear he had no qualms with showing his love.

“See you, tomorrow.” Fuck my life. When you buckled yourself into the seat and began to drive away, you couldn’t help laughing at how naïve you were to think he wouldn’t be in a relationship.

[kisssukuna33]

𝙅𝙅𝙆 𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝘾𝙀𝙇𝙀𝘽𝙍𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙑𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙀!!

Satoru Gojo

-Gives the most expensive gifts-

Satoru is the type to go all out for special occasions. So obviously he's no less in his game when it comes to valentine either. He's the type to give everyone he knows well valentine gifts including his partner, colleagues and even the students but he knows better to prioritize his partner above everyone else. He would be the type to keep track on your wishlist so he won't end up giving you useless gifts you won't be using. If your wishlist looks too poor for his taste he's generous enough to sneak in more extra gifts until it feels satisfying enough.

Nanami Kento

- loves to take care of you during the day-

Nanami is more of an action guy than a gift giver when it comes to Valentine. He would be the type to wake up at 3 am without you knowing so he can surprise you with a freshly baked cake and a delicious breakfast. Nanami always loves spending quality time with you on special occasions so the valentine day would be no different. You two will partake in activities Nanami has planned for both of you and he would end the day with a delicious homemade dinner worth a 5 star rating.

Choso kamo

-The chocolate disaster-

What's a valentine day without chocolate? That's Choso's motto during valentine. He's the type to buy a lot of ingredients he won't even be using and get started on the chocolate making atleast a week prior. No amount of preparing can prevent the complete disaster incoming though. You see Choso wanted to give you the BEST so he tried his best but maybe overdoing it too much can leads to you fucking up the whole thing, that's how Choso ended up with chocolate that barely tasted like chocolate and a kitchen covered in chocolate syrup and bits. But that doesn't demotivate your boyfriend at all because he wants his girl smiling on valentine, so he starts again and finally made them somewhat edible. No matter the taste the dedication your boyfriend put to the chocolates warms your heart anyway.

Atleast It is until you come over to his apartment and sees the complete disaster waiting for u in the kitchen.

Toji Fushiguro

- last minute gift buyer-

Toji is a man with a lot of responsibilities. Working through missions daily and still coming over to his house like a normal family man while keeping his job as an Assassin a secret from his wife indeed requires a lot of work. So you really can't blame Toji if he misses one thing or two. Maybe that's why he's confused as to why his wife is suddenly giving him the silent treatment. He follows around you like a lost puppy that evening trying to figure out what's wrong with you. And when you two finally settle into bed that's when it clicks to him as he remembers way too much pink shit being everywhere in the town today. He mentally curses as he excused himself from the bed to "go on a walk". Toji uses that opportunity to finally go into the town and find a gift that you would actually enjoy. Your anger washes over the moment you see your husband approach you with a small gift box in hands. He doesn't forget to apologize again and again for fucking up the day for you.

Ryomen Sukuna

- the mean tease-

Sukuna would be the type to buy you a gift even before you mention to him about Valentine. He would play it safe by saying "Useless stuff" "Good day for money grabbing corporate overlords". He enjoys teasing you throughout the day while you are waiting impatiently for his gift. But his teasing drops the moment he sees the pout and the gloomy expression taking over your face as you accept defeat. Sukuna's ass is so down bad for you that he absolutely HATES seeing you in that expression. Not even a minute after he tosses a gift box to your lap.

"Aw Kuna you bought a valentine gift for me?"

"No I just bought you a "gift" like I always do"

"No but you gave it to me during Valentine so of course it's a valentine gift!"

"Don't be stupid brat"

He says in his usual annoyed tone but you weren't able to miss the slight blush appearing in his face after you thank him with a kiss to his cheek.

Ugh I just love Sukuna so much, Hope y'all enjoy this Valentine drabble!<33

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

Absolutely fascinating, and I can see exactly what you mean.

From someone describing Cross's personality, including his impulsivity, emotional dysregulation and being spiteful (and approved by Jakei as nailing Cross's character). He's got anxiety, struggles with self-worth and self-esteem yet simultaneously acts so self-absorbed to the point where he has no qualms about being a jerk to literal children.

Take his relationship with XGaster. Cross hates him as much as he wants his approval. Willing to fight against him or alongside him in whatever it takes to get his AU back and to stop the Overwrites (all or nothing). Because for all his dad’s abuse, he’s still his dad, and Cross wants him to be proud of him. (There’s old Jakei pride art where Cross is wearing a rainbow shirt and hugging XGaster, saying “I hate you so much…but I love you” while smiling goofily)

Cross is full of himself, and believes himself to be more powerful and understanding of things than he actually is and feels entitled to his happy ending (tbh fair, considering everything). Or just take that moment of his interaction with Goth for Underverse Studios, where Cross justifies taking and drinking all his chocolate milk because Cross is an "adult" and therefore needs it more than Goth.

This conflates with his anxiety and self-doubt, where he also worries if he’s done enough or if he should’ve done something else but it’s too late, so he buckles down with his decision even if it’s a bad one. If anyone considered themself a “god”, he’d think it nonsense. That everything is run by codes and magic and force of will. So if a deity imagery is used with XGaster then Cross would think it’s up to him to stop that false god

His beef with XMettaton? Full of passive-aggressive interactions between the two especially when Mettaton refused to help Cross when a cow was chewing on his bandana. And it's this moment that gave Cross bovinophobia because he genuinely believed he was about to be beaten.

Then there's all of his unstable relationships with friends and what was once family. XChara causes him so much grief, and when they shared a body he despised the loss of autonomy. But they were also there when he was alone in the Antivoid for who knows how long until Ink came. They’ve become a reluctant companion, but there’s constant friction between the two for both the events that happened with their AU and clashing thoughts on how to handle things, both believing the other to be correct and that the other just messes everything up.

All or nothing with Ink: He believed Ink abandoned him and was never his friend to begin with when Cross had asked Ink to bring his AU back and didn't. All of their history, of how Ink probably kept Cross from going insane from the equivalent of solitary confinement and an emotionally unstable XChara, of how Ink helped Cross develop a passion for art and it's one of the few healthy coping mechanisms he has, all of it is pushed to the side and ignored by what Cross perceived as a slight to him and a manipulative betrayal. How could Ink pretend to be his friend when this whole time, he couldn't bring back XTale, and later on, worked with XGaster to keep his Soul safe and then release it?

All or nothing with Frisk: XFrisk was his best friend, and the betrayal that XFrisk had used Cross and tried to kill him and the others to steal Overwrite from XGaster that kickstarted Underverse in the first place had him throw his locket and rage and hate XFrisk and refuse to accept the name "Cross". A resentment that carried on throughout Underverse and in art of them answering asks, there are brief moments where they're friends again only for Cross to lash out at other moments. And in Underverse the locket is one of Cross's most prized possessions, and he always keeps it on his person. And yet "Cross" is his name, his entire identity, and he lashes out at XPapyrus to the point where he punches him in the face and threatens him with bone attacks until he says his name "Cross".

His brother, who was one of the people Cross wanted revived again more than anything, he's willing to go so far as to enforce his identity by physically attacking XPapyrus who only wanted his brother back.

Aside from his AU back, he wants a sense of normalcy again. He wasn’t always so frustrated or mad all the time, this is a side effect of not only childhood abuse but also trauma from the events of XTale. Not to mention the moments where even as a child, Cross He wants his home back, and more than that, he wants peace and to rest and to be loved (it hurts to distance himself from XPap, but Cross believes it's the only thing he can do now; that he has no other choice) That Cross now and will never be the Sans that XPap knew and loved, and wants to still be accepted by the ones he loves despite having changed so much

All the moments where his body was controlled by others: by XFrisk, XChara, or XGaster, the moments where he's emotionally vulnerable and was manipulated, greatly resemble dissociative episodes, where Cross is so disconnected from his body and even his mind feels out of his control. It's like he's nothing more than a Tool for others to use.

Looking at Cross as a whole, it all aligns much too well with BPD.

ASPD INK WOOOO CLUSTER B REPRESENT!! Nobody can take away Cluster B character headcanons away from me, Cluster B characters I love you

HELL YAAAAAAAA

We love Cluster B in this house

Allow me to actually give you a tiny list of cluster Bs and the characters I associate with them

ASPD: Ink, Nightmare (I’ve been also considering Killer, not yet made a decision tho xhxhxh)

BPD: Nightmare

HPD: Error

NPD: Cross

[resident-idiot-simp]

Did someone say more Hades and Persephone Deadclaws

(x)

@shy-canadian-snowflake once again props for helping

It doesn't take long for Victor to realize Logan is more trouble than he's worth. He's killing all the plants around him by merely existing and Wade is an obnoxious asshole who is better off staying in the underworld. The other gods aren't too pleased Wade is sticking around either.

Logan refuses to change from his black silks and jewelry. He has a crown he also refuses to take off. He's royalty after all.

Anyone who saw him wondered why he would be on the surface since it is obviously not his place.

Eventually Victor relents and acknowledges Logan is more trouble than he's worth. Logan is ecstatic when he is finally allowed to stay where he belongs.

It will probably be about 5 years before he's finally allowed to stay in the underworld.

But during that time Logan changes so much. He is royalty now and expects to be treated as such. Then of course when the gods meet he his a higher standing now and it pisses Victor off like nothing else

He becomes less and less like the Logan Victor knew. This new Logan expected respect and knew his place. Before he barely knew his domain and never felt like he fit it.

Now he was co-ruler of a whole realm and had become Wade's equal. He was treated by the other gods the same as Wade and they would come and ask him things. (They much prefer talking to him than Wade)

The gods start to treat Logan differently and it happens gradually and then all at once. They start realizing that he is becoming more and more important in the grand scheme of things. So they start treating him differently.

However It gets cemented when something goes wrong and Logan without missing a beat steps in and deals with it. Some massive war maybe and Logan starts dealing with the aftermath without even a thought.

Wade is beyond pleased the others respect Logan like they do. He has also loved seeing how Logan has slowly become a death god. It just proves to him that it was always meant to be.

Logan is up on the surface more than Wade is he doesn't stay in the underworld all the time. He is still connected to the surface undeniably. Wade accompanies him half the time but leaves him to his own the rest of the time.

He is fond of going to battlefields and personally collecting the souls of warriors. He also does most communication between gods for Wade while he's out and about.

But more times then not Logan can be found next to Wade in the palace. Sitting on his throne next to Wade's own or cuddling with the god on the most lavish furniture anyone has ever seen.

The other gods have opinions on it I'm sure, but this is just how it is now that they can avoid interacting with Wade as much they'll take it as a net positive.

I'm sure Victor has made his way to the underworld before and gets to see Logan in his natural habitat. He compares it to how he was before and it's night and day. He actually seems happy here and Victor hates it.

(I'm sure he was well as other gods have stopped by without warning and have seen things that can't be unseen)

Victor arrives only to see Logan on his knees in front of Wade who perched on his throne. Logan's claws are extended slightly as he grips at the men's thighs while he ruts into Wade's boot.

Or Logan layed out under Wade on a fur rug next to a fireplace burning with blue hellfire. Wade is straddling him and has Logan's hands pinned above his head. All while Wade's free hand is roaming the other man's body.

Victor is livid but powerless and the worst part is neither care they won't stop unless the visitor speaks up. After all sometimes they will leave

(x)

[girl-lostconnection]

hallo love your work it's so delicious. I also love how you show emotions. I wanted to tickle your brain for a sec if you don't mind (no pressure). What would happen in your AUs (like the acceleration au) if the reader was more um- violate like when simon decides oh this stranger yep he's going in the bed with us, (even if mind you she was chill about the strange man before if a bit hurt) she gets stern and simply tells him to get out of her house. That if he wants to bring his soldier fine- but that is not her problem that is her home her life. Also I saw you had a fic of gaz with what was basically a gym rat reader and omggggg it's so muahhh. I love strong reader.

Finally got to your ask, anon. So I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of days now.

I think the reason why Reader doesn’t outright put her foot down or why nothing too rash actually happens from ANY side of their throuple is from how slow it all burns. The temperature is going up degree by degree, so the frog doesn’t jump out of the pot.

Now, if Simon tried to ram his way through her stating clearly and plainly that she’s uncomfortable with something, than yes, it would be a recipe for a disaster.

But yk the AU works only because these guys listen to each other. Simon knows Reader and Reader knows Simon and Johnny knows Simon and Simon knows Johnny and Johnny tries to know Reader.

The AU works because they try to get attuned to each other and not because one or all of them try to forcefully slot themselves into each other’s lives.

I get where your question is coming from, I’m just explaining my thought process behind the structure of their relationship.

So their relationship however strange it may seem works because they are adults that while have some unhealthy attachments or coping mechanisms are still capable of processing their own emotions and giving each other space.

I know that I don’t go into too much of a detail exactly how it works/feels/goes between them but for me personally that’s part of it. In life for me oftentimes relationships can get complicated and sometimes you do in fact realise that the person you called best friend for years is actually the person you love.

Also, sometimes when coming from a not very fortunate or healthy family you may not know how different types of love feel like. You have no model to take example from so yeah, sometimes it’s a lot of stumbling around and nuzzling into people and taking time a shit ton of time to figure it all out.

And while I get that Simon may seem really annoying to some people, for me he’s actually really endearing because in this AU I understand him perfectly. He’s a man, he has some issues he never worked through, he dislikes conflicts and tries to avoid them, he takes the coward’s way out because he hopes maybe things will fall into place on their own.

And I understand Reader because she loved him all her life, she never said it, she always dreamed about the life that she wasn’t brave enough to live, she’s really jealous that Soap was brave enough to do what she didn’t, she feels ashamed that she’s jealous, she made mistakes, she hates that she did, she is difficult and isn’t sure she’s worth this much trouble. It’s okay, she is. You are. All the trouble and effort.

All worth it.

And I understand Soap. I think I understand him the best out of them all. He’s jealous, he’s used to work himself to the bone, he’s incredible aware, he’s insecure, he’s feeling like he could be left behind (he wouldn’t be), he likes Simon, he likes Reader, he has different needs than Simon or Reader have and he’s not sure how to voice them. He’s there but is he really present? Is he wanted? Is he needed? Is he loved? He isn’t sure. He doesn’t know whether he should ask.

So the thing is that they are all difficult and complicated and multidimensional and honestly, I love the three of them so so much.

Even if they stress you, guys, out sometimes

[imholtorf]

Sub-Level 50 - babybee au

for @yuukirita

Orion Pax and D-16 were brought to sub-level 50 as they meet baby bee for the first time.

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Darkwing is holding both Orion and D-16 as he flies down passing several sub-levels until he stopped and throws them into the room of the sub-level "Wait, wait, wait, you don't understand! We were supposed to go Sentinel Prime's service spot" D-16 protested "You two dolts aren't going to see anyone ever again! I'll make of that!" Darkwing retorted as he flies up and the doors closed.

"You're making a mistake, ask Sentinel!" Dee added "Ugh, I hate that guy" Orion grumbled. The mechs turned around and look at the room they're in; garbage is falling down from the chute, landed on the conveyor belt, and heading towards the furnace.

Suddenly, they spotted a tiny yellow cybertronian and he spotted them in return "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" he wondered as he approaches them as Orion and Dee got startled as they shuffled themselves away from him as their backs are against the doors.

"You're like me...you're like me! Hi! I'm B-127, or Bee, or Badassatron!!! Why are you so much taller than me?" the tiny cybertronian exclaimed, but Orion and Dee answer as they couldn't believe their optics "Is that a--" Orion said "sparkling?" Dee finished his sentence. "What's a sparkling?" the sparkling asked.

"We should be asking you something, like: how did you get down here?" Dee replied "I don't know" Bee retorted "What do you mean you don't know?" Orion added "I mean I woke up in here" Bee said "You mean you've been down here when you came online" Orion stated "Yes" Bee answered "And exactly where is here?" Dee added "Sub-Level 50" Bee replied "50? but, there only 40 sub-levels" D-16 stated.

"If that's whatchu thought then they must've got 10 more down here" Bee added "Then how come none of us aren't informed about this?" Orion asked "Maybe, they're scary?" Bee suggested "Oh, what are your names?" he asked "I'm Orion Pax and this is D-16" Orion said.

"Okay, now with that clear. How do we get out of here?" D-16 asked "Ummm...you don't?" Bee guessed "We don't" Dee replied "Well, we have limited access to the waste management. But, the bot in charge does not like distractions. They prefer we stay here on the task at hand" Bee explained.

"Which is?" Orion asked "Oh, the junk stuff comes from the tunnel there onto the moving thingy" Bee explained "You mean the chute and conveyor belt?" Orion added "Um, yeah. Anyway, we have to look for anything might be worth useable before it hits the flames and gets melted" Bee finished.

"So, you watch garbage burn?" Dee stated "Yes! It is so great that you're here now. I can't wait to learn everything about you and then tell you everything about me. I've always wanted have some real friends!" Bee exclaimed "Uh, yeah we love--" Orion acknowledge as he and D-16 were holding themselves back as they found Bee's excitement adorable.

[qualitygiverdreamer09]

Ikemen Villain (Wiliam, Victor and Roger) As Your Boyfriend (Headcanons). Part 1.

Header Credit: Ikemen Series

Pairing: Multi Scenario x gender neutral!Reader

Tags : Villain x reader, Dangerous Love, Obsessive Love, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Seductive, Intense Romance, Manipulative Behavior, Unsettling Love, Dark Romance, Teasing and Tension, Power Dynamics, Protective Love, Possessive Boyfriend, Obsession, Luxury and Exclusivity, Vulnerability, Dangerous Jealousy.

Warning : Mention of Manipulative Behavior, Emotional Manipulation, Possessive and Obsessive, Themes, Intense Jealousy, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, Violent/Intense Reactions, Toxic Love, Emotional Intensity, Controlling Behavior, Dangerous/Unsettling Attraction.

A/N : For today there will be no Quotes, but I have different plans, including creating several headcanons (hc), which I have postponed for almost several months due to several obstacles that have prevented me from completing them. The following is my interpretation of what I believe Williams, Victor and Roger would say and act, and I kindly apologize if it does not align perfectly with the character or if you have a different understanding. Please bear in mind that it is intended purely for entertainment purposes and should not be taken to heart.

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Williams Rex

Type of Boyfriend - The Charismatic but Dangerous Lover .

Williams Rex is a man who always gets what he wants—and that includes you. Once you catch his interest, escape is impossible. He is a man who plays with power, bends people to his will, and makes decisions with a cold, calculating mind. Love, however, is the one thing that unsettles him. To the world, he is ruthless, untouchable, and impossibly charming. But to you, he is something else entirely.

Early Relationship – The “Love Is Just a Game” Phase.

Williams approaches love like a negotiation. He believes power and control are the only true forces in life, and so he treats your relationship as if he’s carefully playing a game of chess. When you first confess your feelings, he doesn’t react with surprise—just amusement.

"Oh? That’s quite a bold statement. Do you understand the risks of loving me, darling? Or do you just enjoy dangerous games?"

His crimson eyes gleam with intrigue, as if deciding whether he should toy with you or take you seriously.

At first, he tests you. He watches how much you can handle, how far he can push before you break. He deliberately gives you mixed signals—one moment, he’s pressing you against the wall, whispering low, teasing words into your ear, and the next, he’s stepping back, smirking like none of it mattered.

"You’re quite interesting. But tell me, how long will your devotion last?"

But the moment you don’t back down, the moment you show him you aren’t afraid of him, something shifts.

Because for the first time, he is the one who feels unsteady.

As He Falls in Love – The Possessive Protector.

Williams does not fall in love gracefully—he falls hard, violently, and unwillingly.

He hates it.

He hates the way his mind is always occupied by thoughts of you. He hates how his heartbeat quickens when you smile at him. He hates how his control crumbles when you look at him with those soft, unguarded eyes.

And yet, despite all of that, he can’t stop himself from wanting more.

One evening, after a particularly dangerous encounter, you notice a bruise on his knuckles. When you reach out to touch it, his fingers snap around your wrist with bruising intensity—his breath uneven, his pupils blown wide.

"Do not concern yourself with such things."

But when you try to pull away, he doesn’t let go. Instead, he drags you closer, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice drops into something raw, almost vulnerable.

"I don’t understand you. I don’t understand why you look at me like that, like you aren’t afraid. Like I’m… worth something more than this."

There is anger in his tone, frustration in his grip—but above all, there is fear.

Because for the first time in his life, someone has the power to break him.

How Williams Shows Love

Williams may not be the type to say "I love you" easily, but his actions speak louder than any words.

Luxury & Exclusivity: He gifts you jewelry no one else in the world owns, hand-crafted to match your beauty.

Constant, Subtle Touches: A hand on the small of your back, a possessive grip on your wrist—silent reminders that you belong to him.

Unwavering Protection: No one dares lay a hand on you. If they do, they disappear—quietly, efficiently, without a trace.

Dates with Williams

Private Dinners in Hidden Venues: He arranges candlelit dinners in secret locations only he has access to.

Dancing in a Moonlit Ballroom: No audience, no distractions—just you and him, moving in perfect harmony.

Secret Escapes to Foreign Cities: When the world becomes suffocating, he takes your hand and whispers, “Let’s disappear for a while.”

Jealousy & Possessiveness

Williams is not loudly jealous—his jealousy is cold, quiet, and deadly.

If another man touches you, Williams does not react immediately. He simply tilts his head, his smile razor-sharp. Later, when you are alone, his fingers trace your jaw, his voice dangerously soft.

"Tell me, darling… were you trying to make me jealous?" His breath ghosts over your skin as he leans in.

"Because if you were, I can assure you… you’ve succeeded."

And then, he kisses you, slow and deep—a kiss that claims, possesses, and utterly destroys.

What It’s Like to Sleep Over

At first, Williams does not sleep beside you. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you, as if trying to convince himself that this is real.

Eventually, he gives in.

One night, as you shift closer in your sleep, he exhales quietly and wraps an arm around you.

"You’re so troublesome," he mutters, his fingers brushing over your hair. And yet, he holds you tighter.

How Williams Handles Vulnerability

Williams hates being vulnerable, but there will be rare moments where he lets his walls down.

One night, when he thinks you’re asleep, he murmurs something so quietly you almost miss it.

"I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you."

But when you stir, he immediately shields himself again.

"Forget I said anything." Yet, his grip on you never loosens.

Final Thoughts on Williams as a Boyfriend

Williams Rex is powerful, possessive, and dangerously in love with you.

If you desire a man who will never let you go, who will cherish you like the most priceless treasure, and who will protect you with an almost terrifying devotion—Then Williams Rex is your perfect match.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Victor

Type of Boyfriend– The Gentle but Obsessively Devoted Boyfriend.

Victor is dangerous in a different way—not with raw power like Williams, but with an unshakable, quiet devotion that borders on obsession.

To the world, he is charming, kind, and impossibly patient. He never raises his voice, never loses his composure. But beneath that gentle smile lies something far more unsettling—a love so deep that it consumes.

Victor does not own you like Williams.

Victor becomes a part of you—so seamlessly, so completely, that you forget what life was like without him.

Early Relationship – The “Slow and Inevitable” Phase.

Victor does not rush into love. He takes his time, weaving himself into your life so gradually that you don’t even notice it happening.

He learns your habits, your fears, your weaknesses. He memorizes how you take your tea, which books make you cry, and what makes you laugh when you’re having a bad day.

When you finally realize he’s in love with you, it doesn’t feel like a confession.

It feels like something that was always meant to be.

One evening, as you sit beside him, he gently takes your hand and traces slow circles over your skin.

His voice is calm, unwavering, absolute.

"You don’t have to say anything, my dear. You don’t even have to love me back. But I will love you, always."

And he means it.

Even if you reject him, even if you run, he will never stop loving you.

As He Falls in Love – The Obsession Begins.

Victor does not believe in letting go.

At first, his love seems soft and patient—the way he always waits for you, the way he never demands anything. But then you notice the little things. How he always seems to know where you’ve been.

How he appears exactly when you need him, as if he’s been watching from the shadows.

How he speaks about you as if you already belong to him.

One day, when you jokingly ask if he’d ever hurt you, he merely smiles.

"Hurt you? Never. But if anyone else tries to take you from me… well." His smile never fades, but his eyes are terrifyingly dark.

"Let’s just say, I don’t forgive easily."

How Victor Shows Love

Victor’s love is intimate, constant, and suffocating in the most beautiful way.

Acts of Service: He anticipates your needs before you do. If you're cold, there's already a blanket around your shoulders. If you sigh, he's already asking what's wrong.

Devotion in Words: He whispers sweet reassurances in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

Physical Closeness: He loves holding you, his arms around your waist, his lips grazing your temple as he murmurs, "You're mine, you know that, don't you?"

Dates with Victor

Reading Together in Silence: He doesn’t need words—just your presence is enough.

Private Concerts: He plays the violin for you alone, his gaze never leaving yours.

A Day in the Garden: He grows flowers that match your eyes and smiles when you notice.

Jealousy & Possessiveness.

Victor does not get jealous in the way most men do. He does not shout, threaten, or rage.

Instead, he simply makes sure the threat disappears.

One evening, after a man flirts with you at a party, Victor says nothing. He simply takes your hand, leads you outside, and tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.

"You love me, don’t you?" When you nod, his fingers tighten around yours, his smile slow, deliberate.

"Then there’s nothing to worry about."

The next day, the man who flirted with you is gone—no one speaks of him, no one even remembers his name.

And Victor?

He merely smiles as he presses a kiss to your wrist.

What It’s Like to Sleep Over

Victor never lets you sleep alone.

He holds you so close you can barely breathe, his lips brushing against your hair.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, you wake to the feeling of him tracing patterns on your skin.

"You're everything to me," he murmurs. And even though his voice is soft, there is something unshakably final in his words.

As if he is saying: "You will never escape me."And somehow, you don’t want to.

Final Thoughts on Victor as a Boyfriend

Victor’s love is gentle, patient, and deeply obsessive.

If you want a man who will dedicate every breath to you, who will love you so fully that it’s impossible to exist without him—then Victor is the one.

But be warned:

Once he loves you, there is no going back.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Roger Barel

Type of Boyfriend – The Sinfully Seductive but Unpredictable Boyfriend.

Loving Roger is like playing with fire and loving every second of the burn.

He is the embodiment of charm, indulgence, and dangerous temptation—a man who knows exactly how to make you weak in the knees with nothing more than a smirk and a well-placed whisper.

To him, love is a game—a thrilling gamble where the prize is your heart, and the stakes are dangerously high.

But don’t mistake him for someone who plays fair. Because once Roger decides he wants you?

You’ve already lost.

Early Relationship – The Cat and Mouse Game.

Roger doesn’t fall in love.

He hunts.

From the moment he sets his sights on you, you are his favorite game to play—someone to tease, to fluster, to make utterly and completely obsessed with him.

At first, you think he’s just toying with you.

He leans in too close, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, "You make it so fun to chase, sweetheart."

His fingers ghost over your skin as he hands you a drink, his touch lingering just enough to make your heart skip a beat.

And when you finally turn to confront him about his intentions, he simply chuckles, trailing a finger along your jaw.

"Ah, but you like this, don’t you?"

And the worst part?

He’s right.

As He Falls in Love – The Dangerous Obsession Begins.

Roger never expected to truly fall.

At first, you were just another temptation, another thrill—until suddenly, you weren’t.

He finds himself watching you too long, touching you too often.

And when another man dares to flirt with you?

He no longer finds it amusing.

One night, as you’re about to leave a party, he corners you against the wall, one hand braced beside your head.

His smile is still playful, but there’s something darker in his eyes—something possessive, something dangerous.

"Tell me, sweetheart," he murmurs, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Do you think I’d let anyone else touch what’s mine?"

And just like that, the game is over. Because Roger isn’t playing anymore.

How Roger Shows Love

Roger worships you in the way a man worships his greatest vice—completely, selfishly, and with no intention of ever stopping.

Seductive Words: He murmurs low, teasing praises against your skin.

Intoxicating Touch: His hands never stop exploring—fingers tracing your pulse, lips grazing your knuckles, his warmth always pressed against you.

Endless Attention: He notices everything. If you so much as sigh, he’s already pulling you into his lap, whispering, "Tell me who upset you, darling, and I’ll handle it."

Dates with Roger

Late-Night Wine Tastings: He picks out the finest vintage, feeding you slow sips while watching you with hooded eyes.

Private Getaways: He whisks you away to a secluded villa, where the world ceases to exist beyond the silk sheets and the taste of his lips.

Dancing in the Dark: No music, just his breath against your neck as he pulls you close, whispering, "Do you know how dangerous it is to love me?"

Jealousy & Possessiveness

Roger pretends to be the type who doesn’t get jealous.

He laughs it off when another man looks at you, grinning as he drapes an arm around your waist.

"Oh, don’t mind him, sweetheart. He just doesn’t realize he never had a chance."

But later, when you’re alone?

He presses you against the nearest surface, his lips trailing dangerously along your throat.

"Say it," he breathes, his voice velvet-soft yet full of command. "Tell me you belong to me."

And when you whisper his name in response?

He smirks against your skin, satisfied—but never quite sated.

What It’s Like to Sleep Over

Roger doesn’t just hold you at night.

He traps you.

His arm drapes lazily over your waist, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs sleepily, "Don’t even think about sneaking away, darling."

And if you try?

A strong hand pulls you right back, pinning you against him.

"Mmm… nice try."

Then, with a satisfied hum, he buries his face in your neck—because you are his favorite addiction, and he has no intention of letting you go.

Final Thoughts on Roger as a Boyfriend

Loving Roger is dangerous, intoxicating, and utterly irresistible.

If you want a man who will drive you insane with teasing, who will ruin you with soft whispers and possessive touches, and who will love you like the most beautiful sin he’s ever indulged in—then Roger is the perfect storm.

Just remember:

You are not playing this game.

You are the prize.

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Written By @qualitygiverdreamer09

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[writeriguess]

GUURL What a joy to have you here again. I am very happy to know that you are back to doing something you like and that you do it perfectly anyway. you are amazing, i missed you ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯

I wanted to request a Bakugou x Reader where he's the bodyguard. maybe something smutty or suggestive with the situation, do what you want with it. (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

author's note: Thank you so much! <3 This scenario is so incredibly hot—I couldn't help but make the smut longer. Katsuki as the reader's bodyguard is just irresistible!

Duty and Desire

The rhythmic clicking of your heels against the marble floors echoed through the grand hallway, each step a reminder of the gilded cage you called life. Tonight’s charity gala was no different from the others—endless forced smiles, hollow conversations, and the subtle undercurrent of danger you’d grown used to.

Trailing behind you was Bakugou Katsuki, his sharp crimson eyes scanning every corner with the intensity of a predator on the hunt. Dressed in a tailored black suit that hugged his broad shoulders and powerful frame, he looked more like someone who belonged at the event than a hired bodyguard. But his scowl—perpetual and deadly—made it clear he wasn’t here to schmooze.

“Will you stop glaring at the walls like they personally offended you?” you teased, glancing back at him with a playful smile.

“Tch. You think this is funny?” he grunted, hands shoved into his pockets. “You’re the one with a damn target on your back. Maybe take it seriously for once.”

You rolled your eyes, but his words carried weight. The threats against you had started small—anonymous emails, cryptic messages slipped under your door—but they’d escalated. Enough for your family to hire Bakugou, a pro-hero known for his explosive temper and unyielding determination, as your personal bodyguard.

Except he didn’t just feel like a bodyguard anymore.

It was in the way his broad shoulders stiffened whenever someone got too close, the way his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long when he thought you weren’t looking. And it was in the way your skin burned whenever his hand brushed yours—brief, accidental, but searing nonetheless.

“Stay close,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff as he stepped forward, placing a firm hand on the small of your back.

The touch was fleeting but deliberate, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You hated how much of an effect he had on you.

“I’m not going to wander off into danger, Katsuki,” you said, turning your head to glance at him.

He arched a brow, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen the way you get when you’re bored. Don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

The night dragged on, the room filled with the kind of people who thought money equaled worth. You navigated the crowd with practiced ease, playing your part as the dutiful representative of your family. But no matter how many times you smiled or shook hands, you were always aware of Bakugou’s presence—his crimson gaze never leaving you.

Every time someone stepped too close, his hand would brush your arm, your back, your waist, guiding you away with a touch that was equal parts protective and possessive.

“You’re hovering,” you said at one point, turning to face him.

“Yeah, that’s kinda the job, princess,” he shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The nickname sent a jolt through you, as it always did. It wasn’t affectionate—not really—but there was something about the way he said it that made your stomach flip.

The tension between you simmered beneath the surface, growing harder to ignore with every passing moment. By the time the event wound down, you were desperate for some fresh air.

You slipped away to a secluded balcony, the cool night breeze a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. The distant hum of traffic filled the silence as you leaned against the railing, staring out at the city lights.

But, of course, you weren’t alone for long.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Bakugou said, his voice cutting through the quiet as he stepped onto the balcony. He shut the door behind him, effectively sealing you both off from the rest of the world.

You turned to face him, leaning back against the railing with a faint smile. “You’re off-duty now, aren’t you?”

“Not until you’re home and locked up safe,” he replied, his hands shoved into his pockets as he approached.

His presence was magnetic, his broad frame and piercing gaze drawing you in despite the simmering annoyance in his tone.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” you said, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Bakugou scoffed, his lips curving into a smirk. “Yeah? Tell that to the psychos sending you threats.”

The tension between you crackled like static electricity, the unspoken attraction growing harder to ignore. You didn’t know if it was the moonlight catching in his ash-blond hair, the way his suit hugged his muscular frame, or the fact that he was the only person who ever made you feel truly safe—but you couldn’t deny the pull anymore.

“You’re always so serious,” you murmured, your voice dipping into something softer, more intimate.

“And you’re always so damn reckless,” he shot back, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between you.

The heat radiating off him was intoxicating, his scent—smoke and spice—clouding your senses. You tilted your head up, your heart pounding in your chest as his crimson eyes bore into yours.

“Maybe I like testing your limits,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bakugou’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides as he stared down at you. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Don’t I?” you challenged, leaning up just enough to close the remaining distance between you.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his breath mingling with yours as he hovered just out of reach. Then, with a growl of frustration—or maybe surrender—he grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against him, his lips crashing into yours.

The kiss was everything you’d imagined: fierce, demanding, and all-consuming. His hands gripped your hips with enough force to leave bruises, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You gasped against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, his kiss turning rougher, more desperate.

“Knew you’d be trouble,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice rough and low as he pressed you back against the railing.

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tugged him closer.

Bakugou growled, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, lifting you onto the edge of the railing as he stepped between your legs. The cool metal pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his hands as they roamed over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he admitted, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Good,” you breathed, your head falling back as you clung to him. “Because you’re the only one I trust to catch me when I fall.”

His grip tightened, his gaze blazing as he pulled back just enough to look at you. “Damn right I will. But don’t think this changes anything. You’re still a pain in my ass.”

You laughed, leaning forward to press a softer, lingering kiss to his lips. “And you’re still my favorite pain in mine.”

Bakugou’s lips were relentless against your skin, trailing heat down your neck as his hands gripped your thighs firmly, keeping you steady on the edge of the balcony railing. The cool night air did little to temper the fire burning between the two of you, and with every graze of his teeth, every rough kiss, the world outside the balcony seemed to fade further away.

Your hands roamed over his chest, your fingers gripping the lapels of his suit jacket as if anchoring yourself to him. His body felt solid beneath your touch, every muscle tense and coiled with barely restrained energy.

“Katsuki,” you breathed, your voice breaking as his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your jaw.

He growled low in his throat at the sound of his name spilling from your lips, the vibration of it sending a shiver through you. His hands slid higher, brushing the fabric of your dress aside to squeeze your hips. The pressure of his grip made your head spin, but it was the sudden shift of his body against yours that truly sent your pulse skyrocketing.

You gasped as your thighs brushed against his hips, feeling the unmistakable hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of your dress.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your eyes widening slightly as you looked up at him.

Bakugou froze for a moment, his crimson eyes locking onto yours as if daring you to say something. His lips curled into a smirk—cocky, almost predatory—as he leaned in closer, his voice a low growl in your ear.

“You feel that, princess?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what you do to me.”

The roughness in his voice made your stomach flip, your hands tightening their grip on his jacket as your thighs instinctively pressed together. But he wasn’t about to let you retreat. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you flush against him so you could feel every inch of his arousal pressing against you.

“Shit,” you breathed, your cheeks flushing as a wave of heat pooled low in your belly.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. “That’s what I thought. You’ve been teasing me all night, haven’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as he pressed his hips against you again, his movements deliberate and slow. The friction was maddening, and the smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, though your voice came out shakier than you intended.

Bakugou chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to grip the backs of your thighs. “Flatter myself? Tch, you’re the one squirming.”

“I’m not—” you started, but your words cut off in a gasp as he rolled his hips against yours, the hardness of him pressing perfectly between your legs.

“Not what? Huh?” he taunted, his tone rough and teasing as his lips found yours again, cutting off whatever weak protest you were about to make.

The kiss was dizzying, his tongue sliding against yours with a mix of dominance and desperation. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body arching into him as the heat between you became unbearable.

“Admit it,” he muttered against your lips, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You like this. You like driving me crazy.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your lips curving into a smirk of your own as you leaned in to nip at his bottom lip. “Maybe I do.”

Bakugou growled, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises as he pulled you even closer. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“And you love it,” you countered, your breath hitching as he pressed himself against you again, the hardness of him making you dizzy with want.

“Maybe I do,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his lips trailed down your neck.

Bakugou's lips were back on yours, searing and demanding, as his hands slid down to grip the backs of your thighs. He pulled you closer to the edge of the railing, locking you in place as his hips pressed firmly against yours. The hardness straining against his pants was impossible to ignore, especially as he shifted his hips deliberately, dragging against you in slow, maddening strokes.

“Katsuki,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the friction sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.

He didn’t respond with words—he didn’t need to. Instead, he growled low in his throat, his hands sliding to the underside of your thighs and hoisting you up higher so you were completely at his mercy. The cool night air hit your legs as the fabric of your dress bunched up around your hips, but the heat of his body pressed against you made you forget the chill.

“Fucking soaked already,” he muttered, his voice rough as his crimson eyes dropped to where your bodies met.

You flushed at his words, your breath hitching as you felt his hips press against you again, harder this time. The thin fabric of your panties did nothing to stop the steady, delicious pressure of him rubbing against you, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper threatening to escape.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asked, his tone dripping with arrogance as he rocked his hips against yours, slow and deliberate. The hardness of him pressed perfectly against your damp center, and the friction had your head spinning.

You clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his suit jacket as your body moved instinctively to meet his. “Shut up,” you whispered, though the way your thighs tightened around him betrayed you.

Bakugou smirked, leaning in to nip at your ear. “Don’t tell me to shut up when you’re grinding on me like this,” he growled, his voice rough and teasing as he thrust against you again, dragging a gasp from your lips.

The movement sent a wave of pleasure through you, the friction just enough to make you ache for more. Your panties were soaked, clinging to your skin as he continued to press against you, his pace growing rougher, more desperate.

“Katsuki,” you whimpered, your head falling back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“Say my name like that again,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin.

You obliged, your voice breaking on his name as he ground his hips against yours, the rhythm almost punishing now. Every movement sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body arching into his as the heat pooled low in your belly.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he admitted, his grip on your thighs tightening as he held you steady, his movements growing more erratic.

“You’re the one who started it,” you shot back, though your voice was shaky, barely a whisper as your nails raked down his back.

Bakugou chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your neck as he thrust against you again, harder this time. “Yeah, but you’re the one who’s gonna finish it.”

The tension between you was unbearable, the heat and friction building to a crescendo as his movements grew rougher, more desperate. You could feel every inch of him through his pants, the hard length of him dragging perfectly against your damp panties, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze.

Your breath caught in your throat, your body trembling as you stared up at him. “I—”

“Say it,” he growled, his hips pressing firmly against yours, dragging another gasp from your lips.

“I want it,” you finally whispered, your voice breaking as the words tumbled out.

Bakugou’s eyes darkened, a triumphant smirk curling across his lips as he leaned in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss. “Good,” he muttered against your lips, his movements growing even rougher as he ground against you with enough force to make your legs shake.

The world around you disappeared entirely, leaving only the two of you tangled in a haze of heat and desire, the line between duty and desire long since obliterated.

Bakugou’s movements stilled for a moment, and you felt him pull back just slightly, his forehead pressed against yours. His breath was hot and ragged as his hands slid down to grip your thighs again, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to the edge of your panties.

“You’re killing me,” he muttered, his voice low and rough as he glanced down at where your bodies were pressed together.

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as his fingers hooked around the damp fabric of your panties, tugging it to the side with a deliberate slowness that made your pulse race.

“Katsuki—” you started, but your words dissolved into a sharp gasp as his fingers brushed against your bare skin, grazing your slick folds.

“Shut up,” he growled, his eyes dark with hunger as he leaned in to capture your lips in another bruising kiss.

His free hand moved to his belt, and the sound of the buckle clicking open sent a shiver down your spine. You felt the warmth of his hand as he freed himself, the hard length of him brushing against your thigh.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice dripping with arrogance as he shifted his hips, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. “Already soaked, begging for it. You really are a tease.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to steady yourself. “If I’m such a tease, then what does that make you?” you shot back, though your voice was shaky, breathless.

Bakugou smirked, his lips brushing against yours as he pushed forward just enough for you to feel the pressure of him pressing against you, not quite entering yet. “A guy who’s about to give you exactly what you’ve been asking for.”

The heat between you was unbearable, the tension snapping as he finally rolled his hips forward, pushing into you slowly, inch by inch. Your breath hitched, your head falling back as he filled you, the stretch of him making your thighs tremble.

“Fuck,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself fully inside you. “So fucking tight.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard enough to draw a low groan from him as you arched into him. “Katsuki,” you whimpered, your voice breaking on his name as he pulled back slightly before thrusting into you again, harder this time.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough as his movements grew more deliberate, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Katsuki,” you repeated, your voice trembling as your body moved in rhythm with his.

“That’s right,” he muttered, his lips finding your neck as he bit down gently, his teeth grazing your skin. “You’re mine tonight.”

The world around you faded away entirely, leaving only the heat of his body against yours, the sound of your ragged breaths mingling in the cool night air. Every thrust, every whispered growl of your name, pushed you closer to the edge, and you clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his movements became more erratic, more desperate. “I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that.”

You gasped, your nails raking down his back as the pressure built inside you, your body trembling with the force of it. “I—I’m close,” you managed to whisper, your voice breaking as his thrusts grew harder, faster.

“Then come for me,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he held you steady, driving into you with a relentless pace.

It was all you needed. The tension snapped, and a wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body arching into his as you cried out his name. He wasn’t far behind, his movements growing erratic as he groaned low in his throat, his grip on you almost bruising as he found his own release.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the edge of the balcony, your breaths mingling as the cool night air wrapped around you.

“Fuck,” Bakugou muttered, his voice rough as he finally pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “You really are trouble.”

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him, softer this time. “And you love it.”

His lips curved into a smirk, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement—and something deeper. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice low. “Maybe I do.”

Feel free to request <3

[darkmagyk]

Fic game prompt! Poorly Timed Confession and pregnancy fic?

More of the Previously written: Annabeth is Married to king Poseidon, Percy is Poseidon's bastard son AU that I started here

A bastard son’s position was precarious. Percy had always known that. He lived and died (perhaps literally) on his father’s desires.

Percy had long been lucky. Both of Poseidon’s first two wives had died before his mother had come to court. Poseidon had been very attached to his mother. And he’d been very proud to sire a son at his age. And for the son to be so healthy and hail and looked just like him.

In recent years it has gotten better. He’d gotten a ducal title. Some of the best Estates in the country, and his military success was proven.

He was 18 and doing as swimmingly as one could imagine.

Except.

No.

Except a lot of things.

His father was old. He would be 70 at his next birthday, and though he was about as healthy as one could be at 70, he would not last forever. And Triton hated Percy. Despised him more than anything else.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to manage in a post Poseidon world, when that day came.

But then, he was already committing treason.

For 5 months, he and the Queen had been… carrying on, as it were.

He hadn’t meant to, not really. Even though Queen Annabeth was his age, and the funniest and smartest person he’d ever known.

Queens, even girlish queens of old men, didn’t conduct affairs with bastard boys. Even favorited sons with ducal titles.

But Annabeth had. It might have been desperation. No one had wanted much to do with her when she arrived. And it was clear she was stifled for both intrigue and friendship.

Percy was so happy to be that friend, and to attempt to take her hurts, and kiss them better.

To kiss her everywhere: to join her in her bed, and make her time in Atlantis better.

He should not have fallen in love with his father’s wife. 

He was in too deep now, dreaming of drowning in her love. 

Bastard’s lived and died by their father’s. And Percy was betraying his in every way imaginable.  And it was worth every second of it. 

***

Annabeth had always known she was meant to be a queen. But she had been furious at her uncle when he’d arranged the marriage with a twice widowed man, with an heir and a bastard spare already. 

It had been everything she’d feared. He was old, which was not necessarily a bad thing. She might have found great satisfaction as a puppet for an old man. Or even in wrapping a man around her fingers. 

But Poseidon was both in fine health and very set in his ways. He did not run his court the way she would, of course, but it had no gaping holes that would bring it to its knees in his lifetime.

He had his friends. He had his women. He had his amusements and the passive love of his people. 

Annabeth still had no idea why he even bothered with another wife. He didn’t yearn for her companionship. He didn’t need her feminine influence on his court. He had an heir who seemed as healthy as he. 

He might want a spare. And that would explain both the marriage and the recruitment of a bride so young. But if he wanted a spare, you would have thought he’d have done his husbandly duties. 

He’d been drunk on their wedding night, and the only saving grace was he’d both passed out before doing anything, and been out of it enough subsequently to believe the blood she’d put on the sheets. 

He had not called on her once in their six months of marriage. And of the 3 times she’d called on him, twice she’d been turned away. And once he had failed. 

And it was no secret that she had failed to make an impression on him. The wedding had been, as far as royal weddings went, a scant affair. The feast had only 12 courses and the King had not even had a new doublet made.

And so she failed to make an impression on anyone else. They had all decided she was not worth it, at least now. A queen only in name. Not in word or deed or every day. 

It would have been ok. Annabeth of Svedland was not merely a pretty face and a good pair of breeding hips. She was smart. And she was clever. And she could plan her way out of this. 

If not for the crushing loneliness that seemed to surround her. Her uncle had not sent any of her companions with her. And though there were ladies to surround the queen here, they barely paid lip service to her. 

And the isolation, the rejection, had been getting to her. 

Until Percy.

“May I have this dance, My Queen?”

“Yes, thank you.” The king was smiling at his son’s choice. Annabeth had realized that he liked the Duke of Thera being attentive to his stepmother. King Poseidon took it as a sign of respect towards him, specifically in contrast to Prince Triton’s treatment of her. Though he didn’t have an opinion on anyone else ignoring her, as long as they bowed when he was by her side. 

Percy made all the difference. 

In more ways than one.

Percy had friends. Percy had a power base. It wasn’t a strong one, he wasn’t ambitious enough for that on his own. But he was well liked, and a war hero. He was known voice in the ear of the king. People paid attention to him. And they saw that he was paying attention to the queen. 

So now, slowly, they did as well. He was not the first to request her dance tonight. Other’s called on her. Or requested her presence at various gatherings. She’d taken to hosting lunches, and had she now had a regular circle of people showing up to attend them. 

And she was very close, she knew, for something that would truly change the game she played. 

Percy was a fairly good dancer. He didn’t have much musicality, but he had the control of his body a warrior needed. So he led her around as he was meant to, and did not step on her toes. 

“I will wish to retire,” She told him, “when the tapers are about halfway gone.” He knew what that meant. It was an established code between them. 

Then she told him of the horses she’s acquired, for they both shared a well known love for the animal. She asked about his estates. And general inquiries of if all his friends were well. 

Then the dance concluded and he left her with a bow.

She spotted him eyeing the candles out of the corner of her eye as she accepted another dance. 

And he made sure he was very near his father when Annabeth made a show of yawning. 

“If it would please you, I would retire.” She said to her husband. 

As expected, he asked Percy to accompany her to her chambers. Though this time he did ask his son to return afterwards. 

She wasn’t thrilled by this. But still, they would get a solid few minutes to speak. And that was really what she needed.

Away from the crowds, she asked him about his mother. She’d not met the woman, Lady Sally didn’t come to court, but she wanted to.

She had a plan for that, too. It all hinged on this one thing. 

She took Percy into her chamber.

Her lady’s maid, Juniper, was waiting for her. Juniper was Percy’s find, and infinitely more trustworthy than the one before. She immediately helped Annabeth out of her hood, and her outer dress, and took them off to be cared for.

“I feel like I have not had a proper moment alone with you in a fortnight,” She complained, taking a seat on her couch, and knowing that it had been 5 days and everyone was more painful then the last. 

“Forgive me, your highness.” He gave his own bow before taking his own seat. She would break him of the habit one day. Perhaps she would even begin to bow to him.

Then he frowned, “I do not have long. The king will be waiting.” 

“I know, Percy, but I do not need long.” 

His frown changed then, more smirk then smile. And so very beautiful. How did people ever say he looked like the king? “Feeling saucy tonight, your majesty?”

“With you, always?” She agreed, grasping the hand that had come to rest on her thigh, “But as you say, we do not have a lot of time right now. And I have something very important to tell you. And you simply must be the first to know.” 

He frowned again. 

“Is everything alright, Annabeth?” And every time he said those words, it was like a dozen moths danced with joy in her tummy. 

“It is more than alright,” She said, leaning in close, “I’m with child.”

[twinribbonz]

Decussate is the ultimate bastard and here’s why.

Note: Some characters featured here might not be ones heard of. Decussate and Sever. Errik. I implore you to check them out first so you aren’t confused when reading.

Humble beginnings:

The first nine timelines of Xtale do not really matter here. Decussate was not important enough to develop his much deeper personality.

They never mattered anyway.

Moat of these timelines play out similarly to those of canon.

Timeline X:

Decussate and XPapyrus were adopted by the Royal Scientist known as XGaster. Already putting him in a rather important place at such a young age.

His best friend is XFrisk the adopted child of the Dreemurr family. The one who broke the barrier out of the kindness of their heart.

Decussate did feel he was important due to being so close with the royal family. He would brag to other kids about his best friend being XFrisk. But his attitude was kept in check by XGaster.

XGaster did not approve of Decussate acting like this. Scolding him for thinking that he was even of importance at all. These words would shatter Decussate’s self confidence greatly.

Growing up into a teenager who needed to prove himself to everyone. He demanded the Royal Guard to protect his best friend from the humans

He has always been expectedly skilled when it comes to combat. Picking up on things quicker than others.

It made him feel really proud of himself. He finally found his purpose. This is the one thing he’s the best at.

No one else is a better solider than he is.

Though, Papyrus and Undyne were there to deflate his ego, keeping it in check. It only dwindled his self worth and confidence. Making Decussate feel uncharacteristically miserable.

Sinking himself into training and protecting the only things he is good at.

Timeline X plays out similar to the events of canon.

The Downfall:

Being stuck in the void of Xtale was hell for Decussate. Trapped with Sever who wanted nothing to do with him. They cursed him and his stupid actions for getting them in this mess. Mocking him for thinking that overwrite would even work for someone like him.

Both of them grew to hate each other so very much. It was suffocating.

Eventually even Sever fell eerily silent. Becoming apathetic and nihilistic. Their will to keep going started to fade away. Thinking that they were hopeless stuck with the murderer of everyone they knew and loved. It was too much for them. So, their trait of determination began to fizzle out.

In a moment of sheer panic, Decussate reabsorbed Sever’s soul. His own determined soul kept theirs from destroying itself even more. Keeping them fundamentally alive. He admitted that he didn’t want to be even more alone. Sure, he hates their guts but they didn’t deserve to disappear.

Sever called him selfish for thinking of only himself. It was unfair to put them in this situation. But they did appreciate his rare kindness.

Ink:

Decussate asked Ink what gave them importance. They pondered the question before bringing up their position as protector. Telling him about he got to oversee a lot of people.

A twinkle returned to Decussate’s eyelights in that moment. He needed to know more about this but Ink denied telling him anything further.

Error:

The destroyer tried to rip the culmination of his being away. Error was quickly overwhelmed when Decussate freed himself with ease, impaling through the ribcage with the hack sword.

Ink arrived too late on the scene only to see Error fleeing, a trail of blood following behind.

Decussate demanded an answer on who that was. Ink tried to dodge the question, not wanting to reveal the information too soon. This was not supposed to happen. This wasn’t apart of his plan.

But being towered by him greatly was swift to dissolve any resolve they built up. They caved in and told him about the wider multiverse outside the void of Xtale.

That Error is the destroyer. He destroys alternate universes and timelines. Killing everyone inside and stealing the soul of the one with the greatest determination. So a reset could not happen to fix any damage he caused.

Protector:

Decussate was utterly sickened by Ink’s lack of protecting what mattered most. The scripts by the creators? It sounded like religious nonsense to him. The people inside mattered the most.

He knew what he needed to do. Forcefully taking over the role of protector from them. They weren’t no protector. Allowing the likes of the destroyer to run around and kill the innocent.

Decussate was made to protect others.

No one deserved to lose their loved ones or home because of an uncontrollable outside force.

He could not allow that to happen ever again as long as the soul inside of him was beating.

Decussate steeled himself immediately and recalled all his training as a guard. Ordering Sever to help access these other worlds. They told him to use a portal like Ink does.

Of course, he knew how to make one. Summoning the sword to tear a rip into the fabric of reality, entering the dorm of the world tree. Yggdrasil stood before the duo in its ethereal glory.

This is the hub for Ink to enter everywhere. He seized the paper of his home, storing it in the heart locket for safe keeping.

Being protector returned Decussate to his sense of self worth. He was back doing to what he did best.

Declaring the title of Decussate for himself. Abandoning his old identity as Cross.

God slayer:

Killing the likes of Error and Nightmare gave Decussate an incredible ego boost. He had protected everyone from the evil that plagued the multiverse.

Not even gods can bask in his greatness. Which just fed into his ego even more.

The Delta Sanctuary:

Knight’s tale Omega timeline equivalent.

Decussate had established a connection there due to his acts of heroism. He agreed to help people evacuate there during an attack on the alternate universe.

He was thanked immensely for his efforts. His accomplishments were celebrated. Becoming a hero to all who talked to him.

Yet, he made no actual friends. Most found him unbearable to how he acted and his constant bragging. Some even grew tired of him altogether and outright ignored him.

He brushed it off as them being jealous of his superiority. Deep inside he was extremely insecure. Wasn’t his best enough? He is doing what he is the best at.

Banishment:

The gods of Knighr’s tale banded together and cast Decussate out of the multiverse. His actions doomed the balance of the multiverse. Its fate would be collapsing into the Sea of Code.

They were originally going to kill him for this level of treason.

But the Messenger of The Angel stepped in and told them that it would personally deal with him.

Errik:

It had lied to the gods. They were sent to retrieve him.

Feeding into his ego and playing it up. Telling him about the countless other multiverses that desperately needed him and only him to save them from evil.

Errik struck up a deal with Decussate to provide him access to anywhere and everywhere. In return, he would act as entertainment for him.

Sever was concerned about this deal, telling Decussate to not take it. That Errik felt strangely dangerous to them. Their pleads were ignored. He needed to protect even more.

LV:

It is obvious. His level of violence would skyrocket to alarmingly degrees because of his nonstop slaughter.

Decussate and Sever soon grew even more distance from everyone. The LV coursing through the shared body is a constant reminder.

This affected Decussate worse, fueling his ego and making him worse as a person to interact with.

Nowadays:

The duo still wander through the multiverses purging them of evil.

But Decussate has become a shell of his former self. His pride became so massive that he doesn’t even bother to talk anyone. No one is worth it anymore to him. With the only exception being Sever.

His temper has gotten only worse. If someone dares to question him or his actions, he will only glare at them. His mannerisms become aggressive making him seem hostile even if he doesn’t do anything. His large stature makes most refuse to approach him. He refuses to kneel down to even speak with someone shorter than him. He is above them in every way after all.

Sever has taken up doing the talking for Decussate. They are awful at it. Being rude and judgmental about everything. But upsetting them in any way will provoke Decussate.

Most choose to keep a conversation with Sever. Peeking at Decussate’s expression to make sure they aren’t doing anything wrong.

Miscellaneous:

Decussate does believe that he is the best version of Cross. Since all the others fall into similar situations. Him being a protector makes him superior to them.

Sever doesn’t argue with it. They know it’s true with everything they have accomplished in comparison to other Cross. He’s better because he did not get rid of them the moment it presented itself.

Decussate truly cares about Sever despite everything. He prioritizes them over all. They are the only who has seen him at his worst.

[itsdafavone]

❝𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤?❞

cw: kinda fluff - light cussing, mention of fighting.

tropes: friends-to-lovers (kinda enemies), grumpy x grumpiest.

pairing: best friend!katsuki bakugou x f!reader.

if there was something that for the surprise of both of us never made any truly mad, that was probably how neither of us could've won. Each other, of course.

me, and him that have always "allowed" me to follow him around; we never won from a fight against one another. Always truly infuriating but we never thought about it that deep since our friendship was way more important than this shit, even if none of us would admit it out loud. But here am I, I've stopped to take a brief moment and think about it all, since Mina called me out:

"girl y'know that ain't normal for such talented person such as yourself..."

she took a pause, trying go figure if that was what she was going to say, frustrated because couldn't find her "right" words, kept going

"and your, uh, friend?" giggled "it's not possible that none of you are able to win."

it's frustrating how kats' spends more time in my mind than I would find enjoyable... not that I would find enjoyable thinking of him; but lord it could be way less.

so it all started to descend in ruins in our first spar in a while. I wasn't feeling really good, but denying something to him, mainly when it comes to a fight, it's something that you'll never forget. Why? the spoiled brat will make sure you never forget how weak, self aware and fearful you were; afraid of losing to a god like him, even if he was completely convinced it was obvious you wouldn't. He is a complete fool, a natural.

but how I was delighted to fight with this fool every time. All of our fights were so deep highlighted by not holding back ever. A dance only we could pull up, our momentary show that makes everything worth it, even losing. Letting go all of the social cues, obligations and images of ourselves; only pure and raw anger.

until we are too tired to keep going, to sick of using one another to it's own sake, quirks denying their activation and lungs burning like hell.

a good visit to recovery girl (who couldn't stand our bullshit anymore), a bath in an almost shared dorm; and a nap. Him not insisting, but sleeping in the ground, me in his oh so sweet scented sheets. An ether aroma that never failed into embracing me to sleep, never.

"wake up." he would throw a pillow at me, even if his voice was almost tender when he commanded. I would look annoyed at him taking my deep breath, too sore from the day before to discuss, just like him.

"what time is it?" monotone voice, almost closed eyes, he would smirk. Shit, he made me late on purpose, and I fell for it again.

"shit kats', I fucking hate you!" got up and went all fast to my dorm, luckily the door aside.

"but I love you..." he murmured, before I could get out the door. What the fuck?

I turned to look to him, in total disbelief, a hint of hope in the corner of my eyes, for sure. He fixed his uniform belt.

"Tyler the creator." looked deeply at me, felt like it was through my soul and back. "IFHY." how well I knew him, he was trying act nonchalant.

"sure" even for that tiny brief moment that the stars aligned and time has peaked its final form, stopped and stood completely between us; I've still left for my dorm, looking desperately for my uniform.

the classroom had a weird taste as the day follow its steps, I wasn't in the mood for conversations and my friends respected my boundaries. Just feeling nostalgic for things that wasn't that much time ago, and for others that were way to long.

and feeling melt under his gaze.

all classes finally had their ending, stretching myself close to the door after finishing cleaning, taking my shoe's and being stopped mid-going-away.

"wanna go buy groceries?" he was legit serious, like, drop dead serious. Even if it was out of nowhere; I said a weirdly uneventful: "yeah, why not?".

walking there was awkward, a constant feeling that there's something being unsaid. I didn't dare looking his way, too afraid I would spill what I've been thinking, and how it have been almost all of the time about him. He wasn't particularly comfortable either, not from the way he was constantly itching the nape of his neck.

I stopped, because my body suddenly told me to. Not that it was right, but it felt right and necessary. He made the same, turning to face me.

"what?" he was feeling the nitroglycerin escaping from his palms, his body telling him to fight but not to talk.

"there's something you want to tell me?" he did a micro reaction, his eyes briefly grow bigger and went back to usual as fast. "there's something you need to tell but feel like you can't?".

he laughed not too hard, more in disbelief than anything.

"you're a pain in the ass huh?" unbelievable how you could predict, what himself couldn't say out loud.

"yeah, with the ones that deserves it!" you both giggled, feeling the tension in the air fade away.

he leaned towards you, just enough so he could see all of you. Not only outside but inside too, your eyes telling him exactly what he needed; the weird reassurance of your presence.

"you're makin' me sick." he told you calmly, brows furrowed in concentration.

"makin' you sick?" you said half smiling, almost teasingly. Until it snapped. You knew katsuki, he wouldn't say that in a appropriate way. Your face giving away the fact you've already got everything figured out.

he gave you that shit-eating grin, turning his back and keeping his steps not so steady so you could easily catch up.

he made you sick to your guts too.

✸notes: that was actually so fun to write, even if it's short 😭

[theflyingfeeling]

hello and happy February!! I'm back with some pointless Olli/Allu poetry if any of you fancy some 💖

~

The first kiss was the easiest; it happened almost by accident, in the afterglow of a show. Olli was glowing and the sun behind him was glowing and maybe Aleksi was blinded by it all for a moment. Maybe that's why he didn't resist. 

(He knew that wasn't the reason, but he had to tell himself something in defence.)  

((Defence from the truth that he had wanted Olli to kiss him for so long by then, had thought many times he was going to, almost had done it himself just as often, under the most ridiculous of pretexts.))  

(((Homesickness? Loneliness? Heartbreak? Or simply because he wanted to know for sure?)))

((((Know for sure that he had fallen for someone he shouldn't have and that there might be no turning back if he didn't put an end to it before it ever even began.))))

After the second kiss, in the tour bus at 4 in the morning, Aleksi knew he had gone too far to back up anymore.

"You look cute when you blush," Olli told him, his eyes still closed (so how could he tell?) and his nose still touching Aleksi's (so Aleksi felt Olli's breathing on his lips), as if they were still kissing even with their mouths apart.

Which certainly didn't help at all. 

Then came the third kiss, exactly a week from the second one, the longest seven days of Aleksi's life, and it pushed him even deeper into his self-created despair while Olli was pushing him down on the tour bus sofa. It was funny how they were both sucking the life out of him too, in entirely different ways, of course; the despair with the way it kept casting shadows over Aleksi's daily thoughts (except when Olli kissed him), whereas Olli simply did it with his mouth on Aleksi's mouth and neck and cock (except they never got that far that time around, because Aleksi spilled in his shorts simply from Olli kissing him and moving on top of him). 

"That's okay," Olli whispered, and then hid his own moan in Aleksi's mouth. 

Or in his heart – same difference.

~ 

The first morning-after was the worst: remorseful and headachy and his ears ringing with self-accusations. It got easier after that; Aleksi hated how it did. 

(Hated how the night-before always overrode any common sense that threatened to break free from its skull prison to the rest of Aleksi's body.) 

((Which would have been a shot in the dark anyway, for someone who, more often than not, tended to dismiss his own head and instead allied with his heart.))

(((His heart, which was as incompetent as an organ could be, often only pumping blood to his veins when Olli flashed a smile at him from behind his acoustic guitar – and fuck, how much Aleksi wanted to be a guitar – or when Olli glanced at him mid-show while whispering something into Porko's ear – and fuck, if Aleksi had ever wanted to be a Porko in his life; yet, here he was.))) 

((((Or when Olli anything.)))) 

"Fuck you," Olli almost giggled one morning when Aleksi's hand travelled down and down and even further down but then back up again. 

It sounded nothing like the breathless 'fuck me' Olli had whispered him the night before, but it brought back the memories just the same.  

There were morning-afters that weren't mornings at all, really, because they were at an airport or in a plane where time didn't exist, and still Aleksi found the time to want Olli so much he considered missing the flight just to sit in the VIP lounge with Olli's head on his lap until the end of time. There were also morning-afters that weren't 'after' at all, because the two of them had never slept, because making out and making love had been more urgent than dealing with jet lag.  

"Morning," Olli would still say to him, even on those morning-afters when they had done much else but looked at each other and talked and talked and talked all night. 

And fucked, of course, but that was a given. 

~

For all that it was worth, Aleksi knew that keeping count on all the kisses and the nights they shared and the mornings that followed were nothing more but an excuse, a way to fool himself into a sense of control. 

For if there was a first time, there'd always be a last time, too. 

(For acknowledging it was easier than admitting he didn't want there to be a last time.) 

((For there had been signs for a while, like that time Olli had roomed with Niko instead and Aleksi would have sobbed his pillow soaked if Tommi had not been snoring in the bed next to his.))

(((For Aleksi had grown used to having Olli's sweet kisses for breakfast, and if there was a day he didn't, he thought he might as well have stayed in bed all day, until Olli would worm his way back to Aleksi’s proximity (and pants (and heart)) again and drag him into a hidden corner to crash their mouths together and suck the doubt out of him.)))

((((For a moment.)))) 

"Must there be a last time, though?" Niko asked him with a bottle of Heineken on his lips. Several empty ones stood on the table in front of them, already having served their purpose in loosening Aleksi’s lips. 

Aleksi glared at the bottles and at Niko, then at the bottles again, because surely they were to blame for Niko's failure in seeing the inevitability of it. Frustration (or intoxication (or just plain agony)) made Aleksi's head feel heavy when Niko sneered at him upon Aleksi telling him so. 

"Olli's just freaking out a bit," Niko's next words echoed into his bottle with a low-pitched snort, "and clearly he's not the only one." 

As if sensing he was being talked about – or perhaps finally noticing Aleksi's eyes following his every move – Olli held Aleksi’s gaze across the club while whispering something into Porko's ear, then shaking his head at something Porko whispered back, then rolling his eyes and shoving the guy's shoulder with a smile visiting his red (and soft (and sweet)) lips, then wriggling his way through the crowd towards Aleksi and Niko. 

Aleksi got drunk all over again on Olli's cologne as he found a seat next to Aleksi. He breathed in the scent and almost leaned in when Olli did, to speak into Aleksi’s ear. 

"If we leave now, we'll have the bus to ourselves for a couple hours.”

Niko said nothing, because he didn’t need to; the eyebrow he raised at Aleksi was enough to make him want to kick his friend in the shin. 

They walked back to the bus and said nothing, because Aleksi was just too damn stunned when Olli grabbed his hand. They undressed and said nothing, because Aleksi was just too damn scared, having stuttered in front of Olli's grace and made a lovesick fool out of himself enough for one lifetime already. They climbed to Aleksi's bunk and still said nothing, because by then they were in too much of a hurry to be skin on bare skin that there was no room for words anyway, no need for even those sweet nothings or bittersweet everythings Aleksi wished and feared to hear. 

(Nothings, although they meant everything to Aleksi.)  

((Everythings, in the sense that they could crush him.)) 

(((Sweet, like every single tiny (and not so tiny) bit of Olli was, melting right on Aleksi's tongue like sugar.))) 

((((Bitter, because how else was this all going to end?)))) 

"Hold me," Olli breathed into his ear. Aleksi would have done so without Olli asking him to, for there was little else he could have been holding on to with Olli on top of him, with Olli's chest rubbing Aleksi’s own although Olli's back was as good as pressed against the roof of the bunk. 

There was a new kind of neediness in Olli's voice as he rode Aleksi, a strange new urgency that made his whimpers sound almost like sobs. Aleksi held back his own cries, commanding all the doomsday scenarios off his mind, and guided Olli's mouth to his, into a kiss that felt familiar and reassuring in the middle of all that chaos Aleksi had been building up in his imagination for days. 

"Don't stop," Olli spoke into his mouth even with Aleksi's seed already inside him and his own having spilled all over Aleksi stomach and chest. "Take me again," Olli asked, his hips still rolling. 

'Take me, one last time,' Aleksi heard Olli's voice in his head, and flipped him over to his back.  

"Fuck me, Ale," Olli demanded from him, even though Aleksi was already balls deep inside him. 

'Fuck me now, because after this I won't let you anymore.'  

"Show me how much you want me," Olli pleaded, and Aleksi could've laughed against Olli's neck if he hadn't wanted to cry instead. 

His each and every cell craved for Olli; his every thought and action guided him towards the man; he was on his way to fill him a second time that night – what more could he have done to show him? 

'Show me how much you want me–’ Olli’s voice echoed in Aleksi's head. Just the sound of it was enough to help him climax again…

'–because you will never have me.' 

(...despite everything.)

~ 

Olli was still asleep next to him when Aleksi awakened the morning after. It wasn't the first time, but somehow it felt like it was. 

"No," Olli mumbled like a 3-year-old when Aleksi tried to climb over him and venture after the scent of freshly picked-up Starbucks. Instead, he was caught in the trap of Olli's mouth and in the hook of his arms and legs that wrapped around him, like they had done the night before, keeping Aleksi in place until he gave in, until he stopped fighting his head again.

In the pitfall of Olli's embrace, the sweetness of his poison having stunned him, it was too easy to not care if anyone still sleeping away their night-before might hear them move together, mouths locked and hands clasped and cocks grinding as if a new day had dawned just for the purpose of them doing so – what waste would it have been to not take advantage of it? 

Finally free from the siren's spell (although only physically), Aleksi headed downstairs and tried not to stumble on the scattered sneakers on his way. He didn’t want to be as weak as he was and kept his eyes on the sweaty shoes, just so he wouldn’t turn and see if Olli was still looking at him from the bunk corridor. 

He probably would have turned eventually, if he hadn't then felt a hand grasp his just when he reached the stairs. 

A quick kiss to the bone of his cheek, a nose to his temple, then a gentle push to urge him down the steps. A hand still in his; still when the others greeted them with sleepy g'mornings; still when they sat down across Tommi who barely even cared (Aleksi decided the subtle smirk that visited on the man's lips was about something else entirely). 

Olli's head was on Aleksi’s shoulder suddenly, and it took embarrassingly long for Aleksi to even realise. Tommi hadn’t, or at least he hid it well; Joel hadn’t, but he had his phone in his hand; Joonas hadn’t, unless he was psychic and could see things even with his eyes closed as he sat half-asleep beside them; Niko had, judging by the angle of his eyebrows and the purse of his lips holding back amusement, but he was a little shit anyway.  

Maybe, all those things considered, Aleksi could find the boldness it took to kiss the top of Olli’s head, and perhaps even let his nose be buried there for a little too long, just to make his point even clearer. 

(Maybe Olli would cuddle deeper into the sofa and under Aleksi's arm and the world would keep turning; Aleksi’s heart would keep beating instead of breaking, and no one would skin him alive for it.)

((And maybe it wouldn't all crumble and fall apart in Aleksi's palms like a broken tailpipe on whatever US highway they were driving down.))

(((Because maybe there were worst crimes he could commit than falling in love.))) And maybe, Aleksi thought as he felt Olli's silky curls on his lips, it wouldn't be the last time either.