#on the reader's magic

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1738

Chapter 20:

You all had sat around the warm fire, sharing some of Jen's handmade on-the-spot perfume paste that took away the stench of dead leaves, sweat, and mud that existed on you.

Slowly, the mood had started to change, and with Teen back to his live self and his new scar; everyone took turns showing off their scars, briefly mentioning the cool story behind it.

That was, until Agatha joined, sitting at the empty space between you and Rio; not too close to any of you, as if herself feeling divided.

And then Rio had to tell about her scar, changing the mood as subtle messages were clearly behind her story; upsetting both you and Agatha.

You watched Agatha be the first one to leave the circle right after Rio confessed her "scar." You barely lifted your head to watch her go or cared when Rio went after her.

By now you had come to realize who this mysterious green witch was, and what she was to Agatha.

A part of you, deep down, was not surprised. You often spent a lot of time away from one another and she was not forced to remain focused to you alone; the fact that you did it for her, was merely out of your loyalty for her.

Yet somehow, it still bothered you. Seeing those looks she would often give you, now directed to her. The way Rio would try to invade her personal space and make her react, testing your patience and the fact that you did not wish to interfere.

Perhaps you should, but who were you to lay such a claim? When you had left Agatha on her own so many times? And who said Agatha wished to be claimed by you?

Those questions and thoughts had darkened your mood and it was evident on your face, something the other witches noticed.

They didn't know exactly what relationship you had with Agatha, mixed signals confusing them to the end, but they had their suspicions.

Thankfully for you, there was one kind hearted soul in the group that did not like to see you down.

"I still don't think I thanked you enough...uhm..." Teen started, keeping his usual smile but feeling slightly embarrassed since he never got your name.

Truthfully, you had not told anyone your name, and Agatha had only been calling you by your nickname; something no witch had dared to call you.

You smiled faintly and turned your attention in him. "Y/N," you introduced yourself, earning an even bigger smile from him.

"Well then, thank you," he continued. "I owe you."

"You owe me nothing. I am glad you are okay. " You offered a small weak smile.

"Though I have to ask... how did you do it?" He asked, grabbing his little book. "What kind of spell was that?"

To your help, somehow, came the oldest of the witches; Lilia. "This was no spell, kid," she explained, earning his attention. "This are the tricks and magic of a Moon Witch."

Teen was suddenly intrigued. "Moon witch? I don't think I have read a lot about you." he confessed.

You offered a sad smile. "I am afraid my kind is not that well known or welcomed. Not many witches are chosen for it, either."

"It is the type of witch dedicated to the moon and its phases. The very same entity witches pray over spells, blessed them with power," Lilia explained, once again.

Teen was very invensted. "So, you do what... Moon magic?"

"If only," Jen interrupted him. "Moon magic s the purest form of magic. It is literally the essence of blessing, purification, and protection of the highest form. Moon Witches are the OG white witches."

"Then why don't other witches take that path? Why is it not known in the books?"

"Because it is a cursed path that you do not choose but rather get chosen," Lilia said, her tone getting colder as personal experiences biased her opinion. "Unpredictable and destructive nature of magic. Spells gone wrong, too much magic unleashed... plagues coming out of nowhere, curses been thrown, kids disappearing into the night..."

Each catastrophe made you lower your gaze and your head, one hand holding tightly your triple moon pendant for some sort of comfort.

You did not argue with Lilia, because there was not something to argue for. She was right in everything and you hated to admit it, but it was all true.

At night, you would still be haunted by experimental spells you did wrong. Of too much magic, you pulled into a potion or a person and caused more destruction than anything else. You were volatile for years, and only after you learnt not to interfere did you find some peace with your magic.

Agatha was the only one that had never shunned you for your powers, never blamed you when things went astray. On the contrary, she had ways to make you see the other side of the issue; to take you realise that it wasn't always that bad... that it could be fun.

"It's a solitary path, kid," you finally said, your voice heavy as was your heart. "It is not one witches wish to be known for or have in their covens," you lifted your head slowly. "I hesitated to heal you, and if it weren't for Agatha's begging, I wouldn't have interfered. That's not my calling."

Yet despite the grim talking, despite your defeated tone; Teen was not ready to give up. He could still see light within you, still see there was good to be done, and he was determined to help you see it too.

"But you did interfere. You helped me!" He argued, joy and energy still in his dark eyes. "You saved me from death and look." he lifted his shirt again. "You barely left me a scar."

Somehow, despite your best efforts, you could not fight the contagious smile that came from him. Hearing his words, doing his best to cheer you up; it warmed your soul, and you could not remember when someone else had managed to do that.

"You must be the first to say that," you commented.

Surprisingly, Alice chose to join; having been quiet for far too long. "He is right, you know. You saved him, and I saw how you fought that curse when it touched you. Whatever magic you wield, I am glad it is on our side."

"Speaking of curses," Jen interfered. "How is it that you can push away and protect yourself from whatever curse we fought back there and not the poisons from the first trial?"

"Ah," you exclaimed. "Common misconception there. I can protect against evil and darkness but not poisons. They fall into a more... neutral category."

"Well, that must suck."

You could not help but chuckle faintly. "Oh yes. I can go head to head with dark witches, but hemlock can end me in a day."

"So, Y/N," Teen called you out, using your name. "Do you have any cool scars?"

It was then you realised everyone had talked about their scars, some from bigger adventures and some from minor ones. You have been the only one that had yet to confess a part of their past, and frankly, you were not sure how willing you were.

Yet as you stared into their eyes and you remembered how Alice and Teen were welcoming your magic, how even Jen seemed to see you differently; you could not help but feel as if you truly were part of a coven.

A feeling foreign to you but nonetheless welcomed.

"I do, a few," you confessed and loosened up your tie more. Once it was not in the way, you managed to remove your shirt halfway and turned to expose your scarred back. "Caught by a group of modern witch hunters, tried to make me confess the whereabouts of a coven close by."

You felt the stares on your scars that decorated your back and quickly chose to hide them by fixing your shirt; feeling uncomfortable with people staring at them for too long.

Unbeknown to you, Agatha had happened to approach while you were talking and got a good look of the scars you did not have the last time you two reunited.

She remained quiet, watching from the shadows with a dark expression on her face; one that the world had not seen in a very long time.

At the same time, you chose to cover yourself and sit down; looking at the group. Their gazes were mixed, some showing more concern and sympathy and others; pure fury.

"Witch hunters," Lilia scoffed, one fist holding the material of her pants tightly. "One of the worst things mankind had created."

You could not help but nod. "And somehow they made it to the modern era as well."

"They are lucky they haven't met me," she commented. "I still remember the last pair that made me flee a comfy village I had chosen to settle down."

"Thought witch hunters were a myth," Teen argued, looking at Lilia. "I mean, with movies and all those things you hate."

The older woman tried not to get offended. It was not her fault the media represented witches that badly. "Not this kind, kid. Those in the movies are nothing compared to the real deal."

Jen nodded her head. "They are cruel men, taught to recognise spells, and somehow always manage to track down where witches live," she explained, being alive longer than him and Alice; made her little more knowledgeable on the subject.

"And they go hard-core once they find one. Try to draw a confession out of her, secrets and whereabouts of covens, " you added. "In the past, they targeted innocent women who under the pressure of torture confessed to being witches; when they had no magic within them."

The boy seemed horrified at this new piece of information. "This is horrible!"

"This was a witch's life," a new voice added, making everyone spot Agatha leaning on a tree. "Humanity was never accepting of anything different and always went to the extreme to see it gone."

Murmurs of agreement echoed between Lilia, Jen, and you; the eldest in the group. They had seen the rise and almost impending fall of witchcraft, some earlier than others little later.

But they all had been prosecuted one way or another for their craft... and their choice in lovers.

Chapter 21

[magicdustsworld]

𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A guide on how to properly date your tattooed, big, bad boyfriend.

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒: Established relationship, slice of life

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: some profanity, biting(non sexual), fluff, no curse AU, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n. (Would be just a short series of drabbles)

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏 : 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you." You say with a sheepish grin playing on your lips as you get on your knees, crawling over to him. The silk sheets crease under your deliberate yet rhythmic movements – something which he doesn't even seem to notice. For the felicity in your eyes and the ardor clouding your visage is a expression to great to ignore and even though it's Sukuna, he can't ignore you.

You reach his side, resting your arm on the bedframe, looking up at him with a expression akin to a child looking at something it holds dear. "You know I love you so much, right?"

He blinks, clearly baffled with your sudden proclamation of love. Raking his brain over everything he did today – nothing out of the ordinary except being a asshole to that one salesman who wouldn't take his leave until selling his– whatever it was. But for Sukuna that's ordinary cause he's a jerk at heart.

He tilts his head, "What do you want?"

"Your arm." You are quick to reply, voice carrying an ardor which is too loud to miss. "Give me your arm."

His eye twitches, shooting you a – are you serious – look. You reply with a nod, stretching your hand, asking to get served. A disinterested scowl graces his lips, sparing you a glance, he turns to the opposite side.

This time, your eye twitches. He did not just reject your advances. You huff, inching closer to him as you place your hand over his bicep, "Baby... look at me."

He does. You jut out lower lip, eyebrows furrowing and tipping your head up at him. He can't help but consider how much you ressemble a cat with that expression. He pinches his lips, "If you think that's going to convince me otherwise then you're wrong— ow!"

In no time, you have sunk your teeth on his bicep, the canines puncturing the flesh, incisors holding the skin in place as you glare up at him.

Sukuna winces in sheer pain, trying to pull his arm off of your hold but you remain adamant on not letting him go. "Owh— what the actual fuck woman? Let go of me!"

You do let go, retracting your mouth but do not let go of his arm. You pout at him and Sukuna looks down at the attacked area. A circle of crescent moon shapes has forned on the part of the skin – it hurts like a bitch.

He turns to face you fully, crimson eyes blazing with a rage as he looks down on you. "What the hell was that for?"

You pout, narrowing your eyes, "Cuddle with me."

"After that stunt you pulled? Absolutely not."

"Absolutely yes."

He glares at you and you glare back; the silence turning into a staring match.

Sukuna scans your face, the crease on your forehead to the way you've twisted your lips and finally the flicker of vexation in your eyes.

Definitely a cat.

He sighs, threading his fingers through his hair before stretching out his arm. "Come here."

In an instant the irkness vanishes and you jump into his arms, eyes gleaming with delight and mouth stretched into a triumph grin. You giggle, "I knew you'd come along." You say, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck as Sukuna loops his arm around your waist, shifting you to a closer and better position.

He sighs, "Whatever, brat. Just don't bite me again."

You pursue your lips, gazing at him with a guilt. Leaning up, you press your lips against his cheeks in a chaste kiss, "Mhm, sorry."

Heat rushes up Sukuna's face, spreading from his ears to his neck; he looks away from you.

"Aw, are you blushing?"

"Shut up."

"You are blushing."

He merely responds with placing his hand on the back of your head and pushing your face down on his chest. "Shut up."

You giggle, mumbling something incoherent before snuggling closer to him. "I love you."

This time, Sukuna doesn't suppress the idiotic grin which spreads on his lips. With your face pressed against his chest, he strokes your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

"I know, brat."

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟐

[xan-izme]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Prologue

Part 1

Your mother was a beautiful kind and dangerous woman. In short. She was a Falcone. And for young Bruce, being with her was a thrill. Being Batman gave him a thrill, but your mother was a different kind of thrill.

Till she got pregnant. And the thrill was gone.

Your mother kept you of course. Counting the days till she gets to hold you in her arms. And when she finally got to hold you, to feel you close and hear your sweet little voice. The rest of the Falcone men decided that your mother wasn't ready to take care of you. So, they forced you out of her arms and sent you to Bruce.

Bruce held you once. And immediately passed you to Alfred. He was too young to become a father. (Never mind the fact he was already acting as a father to two boys)

He didn't have time to play daddy. Deep down Bruce did come to care for you over the years and attempted to try and hold you. But then Jason died, Dick distanced himself. Holding you, an innocent little thing, felt wrong.

When you were eight. You had tantrums. Night terrors. terribly scared of the dark. Thunderstorms especially. Gotham famous for its long dark nights and loud thunderstorms. Bruce, too busy with his new sidekick, Tim. Didn't have time to comfort you. No matter how heartbreaking your scrams for him were. Crying for him, so he can save you from whatever nightmare you have woken from.

But only Alfred occasionally Dick, would come and save you.

Bruce would give you toys, new dresses as a form of apology. He wouldn't give it to you directly. But have Alfred give it to you or leave it in your room when asleep. But no matter how many new toys he gives you. Those nightmares just never stopped.

Due to the neglect. Your mother was able to meet with you secretly. As years passed, she was able to steal you away when Alfred wasn't hovering around you. Take you to shop and give you whatever you wanted. Holding you in her arms and not wanting to let go.

Slowly, your mother was gaining the favor of some of the Falcones. To let her have you back. To welcome you back into the Falcone family. Once she gets the whole family to agree. She can make a case of child neglect against Bruce Wayne and take her sweet Babygirl back.

But when you were ten. Your powers began to kick in. You told Bruce, hoping your father would help you. Help you understand. Bruce, told you to keep it a secret. And to tell no one else.

Having a kid who was a meta was the last thing he needed at the moment. Trying to re-connect with Jason who still had deep hate for him instead focusing on his first-born child who was struggling to understand.

You felt like a freak.

And it wasn't long till you lost control of your powers. To keep it short. You accidently killed a few other kids with your powers. It was an accident. You swore. You see you would have just been left off. Your a kid. It was an accident. But most of all your a Wayne. But one of the kids you killed was a Falcone.

And Bruce couldn't risk you getting killed. He cared about you. Just not as much as he should. So, to avoid the wrath of the Falcone's. Bruce had to claim you were mentally ill. Sending you to Arkham. Only for a few months. That's what he said to you. That's what he promised.

You did your six months in Arkham. Six months turned to eight. Eight months turned to ten. Ten months turned to two years. Then finally, you were taken out from your cell. Lead by two prison guards. They said you had a visitor. You assumed it was another reporter. But was proven wrong when you see Bruce on the other side of the thick glass. You were shocked but happy to see your father.

"Daddy." You spoke softly as you slowly smile, putting your hand on the glass. Bruce hesitates to put his hand on the glass, once he does, he focused back to you. Your eyes stared at him with so much love and hope.

". . . Your case. . . the court decided you're, too unstable to attend court, so. . ." Bruce didn't look at you as he spoke. So, he couldn't see the smile on your face fade. Confusion taking over.

"But. . . I did my six months. . . I-I've been here for a year! Daddy, please I didn't do it on purpose!" You were on the edge of crying.

"I promise. I'll get you out of here as soon as I can." Bruce wanted to try and console you. But that was harder due to the glass between you two. He reaches out his hand to the glass once more. But the loud buzz that queued it was time for you to get back to your cell.

"Please Daddy don't let them take me!" You cried, putting both hands on the glass. You were in full despair. Bruce didn't know what to do. He can take the risk from the Falcones and get you out with a snap of his fingers. Or he can make it easy for everyone but you and wait till you serve your time.

". . . I'm sorry" Bruce can see you falling deeper and deeper into dispare.

Guards burst from the doors and had to forcefully take you away.

"No- No! Daddy please! DADDY!" Your screamed louder as the guards took you away, reaching out to Bruce who just stood there. And did nothing. As always.

Seven years later.

No one ever visited you again. Well, no one from the Waynes. But your mother visited you every week. Her visits where the only reason you kept saine.

Arkham isn't all fun and games. Obviously. You were immitted into Arkham's fucked version of rehabilitation. You started hearing things after your first month in Arkham.

. . .

You sent letters almost every day to the Wayne manor. But never got any back. None from Bruce. None from Dick. You and Tim weren't close. So, you didn't expect anything from him. Alfred prefers to call you. Wanting to hear your voice to make sure you were not lying to him when he asks of your wellbeing.

You stopped sending letters to Bruce a few months ago. Not like he'll respond anyway. You don't need Bruce. You have your mother. And she's all you'll need. She's your world now, your reason to keep living this pointless life. And once you're out, Mama promised to give you a big hug. Which you so desperately needed.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

"𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢. . . 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎?"

[tsuutarr]

All of the fairies in Cot’s village have told him that he’s a workaholic with no understanding of his own limits. He usually waves them off, too focused on his potion crafting to really care about what they’re saying.

But when he falls inside your basket, he’s vividly aware of how stupid he is for ignoring his own limitations. He had flown too far to find some herbs and now he’s stuck in a human’s basket. He really doesn’t want to know what you’ll do to him, but he’s too tired to fly away.

Maybe you’ll put him in a jar. Or rip off his wings. Or feed him to your dog. Or something. Thousands and thousands of negative thoughts flood his head as he looks up at you, a mixture of wariness and exhaustion present on his face.

The last thing he expects is for you to push a few berries his way. The sweet, tantalizing scent of the berries makes Cot’s mouth water. His hunger wins over caution as he chows down on your gift. He doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything so delicious. 

Once he’s done eating, Cot decides that you’re actually really, really nice. The smile on your face as you watch him eat makes his heart feel all fuzzy and warm. Your voice when you talk to him is really pretty, too.

After that, Cot begins to linger around you. At first, it’s purely to repay you! You were so nice to him, so of course he wants to pay that forward. He helps you take care of your garden and helps you clean your house, eager to please you. 

As he continues to assist you in any way he can, Cot can’t help but love spending time with you. It’s fun, it’s easy, it’s just… nice to be with you. In fact, he spends most of his time with you, making himself comfy in the dollhouse you got for him. And when he has to go back to the Fae Realm, all he can think about is you as he goes about his tasks.

He doesn’t really mind it, though. He likes thinking about you.

But then he has a thought. Maybe it’ll be better if you’re with him, always. When he sees you hanging out with your friends on his visit to the human realm, this thought spirals out of control until it becomes something dark and possessive and all-consuming.

Yeah, it really will be better if you're always with him.

He begins to gift you enchanted tea leaves from the Fae Realm, determined to slowly transform you into someone who’s more fae than human. Then, he gifts you a lovely necklace, enchanted with a piece of his magic – a piece of him. 

You gratefully accept the necklace, unaware of the enchantment on it – an enchantment to ensure that all your friends are too sick to ever spend time with you because he’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And as Cot sets his plan, you’ll be none the wiser. After all, why would you ever suspect your cute, tiny fairy friend? He’s just so adorable and harmless, you know?

[ozzgin]

All the magical girl talk made me think of this. Content: gender neutral reader, male yandere, Madoka Magica inspired

You didn't really believe in something as puerile as magical girls, or whatever evil comes associated with them. Until you stood in front of a monstrous mouth, ready to swallow you whole. Your legs forgot they could run away; you just stared into the yawning abyss.

Then came a blinding light, and your eyes searched for its source. A colorful staff pierced the sky. What you didn't expect, however, was to see a tall, muscular man being the one to hold your beacon of hope. A magical boy?

Not just any magical boy, but yours, and yours only. He's made his wish a long time ago: that he'd spend the rest of his life protecting you, in every timeline, in every universe, in every reality. This world is miserable and devoid of hope, but he won't allow you to suffer its sting.

"I'm sorry, have we met before?" you ask as you squirm under his hold.

This kind of embrace is a little too intimate for a stranger whose life was just saved. It resembles more the ceremonious hold of reunited lovers.

"Why, of course. Many times already", he answers with a wide smile. "You just don't know it yet."

You glance sheepishly at the beast he's just obliterated. Perhaps it would be wise to remain within his grace, however bizarre it may be.

Is there such thing as a selfish magical guardian? A mad, callous human like him shouldn't be wearing the staff of a protector, yet one mustn't forget the semantics that come with the job: saving the world is a rather generic prerequisite. In his case, it just so happened that his world comprised of you alone.

Don't worry, he's found you once more, and he won't let go.

[More Yandere Works]

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ʙᴏʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

yan magical boy who lived within a enchanted, magical forests with his parents, and siblings. He was a prodigy, overpowered and everything. He learned how to work with his magic at the age of 8.

yan magical boy who was youngest student to ever be admitted to the prestigious Arcane Academy, he was hailed as a prodigy, gifted with magic far beyond his years. His peers admired him, his teachers pushed him toward greatness, but none of that ever mattered to him. He didn't care about all that, all he cared about was being better than everyone.

yan magical boy who was a annoying bitch, he would bump into you on purpose, and giggled at your irritated expression. He noticed the way your eyes narrowed at him and he would blush. He needed to be near you, like a spell that only worked if he was within a certain distance of your presence. He clung and followed you like you were the very source of his magic.

"The hell's your problem dude?" You said to him, looking down at him since he was shorter than you. He innocently blinked up at you, titling his head. "What are u talking about, n/n?" He said with that soft voice he always did when talking to you. You rolled your eyes and walked past him, not noticing him sniffing you as u walked past.

yan magical boy who was used to getting what he wanted, so imagine his surprise when the first ever person he wanted, doesn't want him!

yan magical boy who began using his magic in subtle ways to keep you close. At first, it was harmless. A slight enchantment to ensure they ended up paired together for projects, a simple spell to lead her path toward his in the hallways. But, he was an impantient fuck, he couldn't stand seeing you laugh with someone else, talk with someone else, even breath near someone else!

yan magical boy who made a love spell, and while sparring, he acted as if was going to block her strike, but as he did, he “accidentally” brushed his hand against your skin, dabbing the potion on you. He grinned, waiting for you to drop on your knees and propose to him or sum

But, nothing happened, and you still kept trying to fight with him, your expression stoic like always. He blinked, his mind racing. Surely, the potion should have worked by now? He had calculated every ingredient, every step—there was no way it could have failed?

yan magical boy who failed.. LMAOOOAOA

yan magical boy who after that, became even more clingy, pouting and becoming whiny whenever the love spells wouldn't work. (he kept tryna put love spells on u HE DOES NOT CARE)

“Y/N!” he called, running towards you like an excited puppy. “I was looking for you! Here, I made you a lunch! Don't mind the white cream in your sandwich okay? Its..ranch! Yup! Ranch! And the goey yogurt is definitely not a love potion!"

yan magical boy who whimpers when you congratulate him, feeling his pants tightening, and knowing hes gonna need to use his delusionals to imagine your the one fisting him off.

yan magical boy who is ur magical freak who loves you so sooooo much! <3

SEND REQUESTTSSSTSSTSY

GUYS PLS MAKE YAN BLLKS BOOKS OMGGOGMGOGM

[captainzigo]

fluttershy mind reader AU was an invention of @zoeyhorse

[atomicfoxx]

Have I ever mentioned his HANDS BC HOOH

[melancholymegumi]

Men who are so so so close to bending you over and fuck your ass while gagging you with his tie. He loves you , but god , sometimes he needs you to shut the fuck up and let him fuck your ass.

Lance Crown , Rayne Ames , Katsuki Bakugo , Todoroki Shoto , Mr.Compress , Rin Itoshi , Isagi Yoichi , Meguru Bachira.

taglist : @honeybunnxo @adoresizuku

[kyseya]

Once upon a time

‘Prince’ Yandere x reader

Imagine a reader in modern day society. She lives in a normal little town, went to your average school, lives in a normal house and has your everyday friendly neighbours. Like I said, her life is nothing out of the ordinary.

She feels lucky to have so many kind people in her life. Everyone knows everyone and isn’t afraid of lending a helping hand whenever someone is in trouble. The town is on the smaller side but very cozy. They have their own traditions like the annual Christmas market or the summer fundraiser. Nice stuff like that.

Everything is simply perfect! Or…well it would be if not for one tiny detail.

Unfortunately there’s one guy who just can’t seem to take a hint. Reader feels kinda mean thinking of him as a stain on the idyllic life she’s built. She doesn’t understand why he can’t take a ‘no’ for an answer. Everyday this hunk of a man walks right into her workplace like he owns the place and demands reader’s attention. With the way he’s acting you would think he’s dying and reader’s attention is the one and only cure.

It’s not like he’s ugly or anything, but a guy who doesn’t listen is just a 🚩

That’s not even the worst part. Another big issue is his…delusions.

Like, one time when reader was walking home she decided to stop by the market square since she needed some groceries. And guess who was in the middle of the square, somehow managed to climb onto the water fountain and proudly shouting at the top of his lungs? Part of reader’s soul disintegrated that day. What in the world was he doing!? He didn’t seem to be embarrassed either. No, with his nose pointed upwards he said he was going to reveal a big secret about the whole town. Silence filled he air, everyone was curious about what he was about to say.

What was this secret? Had someone committed a grave crime and was about to be exposed? Thoughts like that circled in everyone’s mind. Their imagination came to life and dreamt up various scenarios to what the deal was. People anticipated something foul, raw and sinful only to be met with grave disappointment.

You see, the man had suddenly declared himself as royalty in front of an entire audience. He claimed that the whole town was under a spell and had forgotten about their origins; being fairytale characters. And right now, only he was able to remember the truth. Alright, what the hell? That was ridiculous. What made it worse was the fact that he appointed himself as the towns prince and leader. Yikes. He said most- if not all- of the citizens where peasants and therefore his subjects. That’s why the had to listen to him from now on.

Reader wanted to peel off her skin and scream in that moment. The secondhand embarrassment was too much.

Bringing down shame upon yourself and your ancestors was one thing, but did he have to drag reader into it?? He claimed she was also royalty and should be treated with outmost respect. Why? Because he’s her husband! Of course his spouse need the 5-star treatment as well.

After the painful incident he’s always stopped by her workplace to talk her ear off. No matter what she said or did(or how much others complained) he never left. At least not permanently. In rare instances he did go with a downcast expression but he’d always be back full force the next day.

The man tells reader about the wonderful life they were going to have. If only the curse wouldn’t have been placed and they’d all been transported to the world they currently live in. It pains him so to know she’s forgotten all about him and the great love they shared. But it’ll be alright. After all, they found each other again and he refuses to let go.

Reader only half listens(he will throw a tantrum if he realises she’s not paying attention to him) as he drones on about how they first met in the forest. Of course he found her by hearing a wonderful song travel through the woods, he followed it all the way to her. They danced together and met every sundown from then on. It was so romantic. It’s impossible not to roll your eyes at the cliche imagery, it’s just so corny.

Yandere ‘prince’ also demands reader to refer to him by his royal, ‘real’ name. It’s not his real one, it’s something else. Everyone knows that- except him, apparently, since he refuses to respond to it. If you do use it, he’ll ignore you and pretend you didn’t speak at all. It’s very tiring, more so since he tries to enforce this delusion onto reader. He also won’t use her actual name and instead settles for this medieval one. Apart from that, he calls her ‘love,’ ‘darling’, ‘my heart’ and other cutesy nicknames that are far from appreciated.

It doesn’t matter what reader says, he won’t stop.

He insists he wants to be her saviour again. Sadly for him there is nothing to protect you from except the occasional spider that makes its way inside your house.

‘Well, it’s better than nothing.’ He would say before smacking and tossing it out.

He is willing to do anything for his lover. And that really does means anything. Nothing is off the table. It wasn’t before and it definitively isn’t now simply because of some lame curse. It can’t keep him form his soulmate.

He was your prince before, he’ll show you that he still is.

———————————

[This is kinda based of Once Upon A Time, though it’s been ages since I watched it. ]

[venuslarkspur]

Batfam x Sanamancer!Magic!Reader - Incorrect Quotes 3

Sanamancer: A magic user who’s magic is life and healing based

—————————

Tim: I need some dating advice from you

Jason: Okay- just because I’m with Sanamancer!Reader doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

Batfam: …

Dick breaking the silence,: You’re with Sanamancer!Reader?

—————————

Dick: Do you only do healing magic or can you do other stuff aswell?

Sanamancer!Reader: Well I used to scam people with magic shows.

Dick: What?

Sanamancer!Reader: What?!

—————————

Jason: You look good with that wand.

Sanamancer!Reader: You know where else I'd look good?

Jason, zero hesitation: My bed.

Sanamancer!Reader, at the same time: By your side- wait, what?

—————————

Steph: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...

Sanamancer!Reader: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?

Steph: Holy shi-

—————————

Damian: H-how do you ask someone out?

Sanamancer!Reader: Well, first-

Jason: Don't ask them, they asked me out mid magic show.

Tim: ...And you said yes?

——<><><><><><><><><>——

Happy New Years everyone <3

[yeyinde]

my ideal body type for Price has got to be Colin Farrell in The North Water. nothing else comes close to capturing the way his broad shoulders and big hairy chest looks in my head.

[luludeluluramblings]

A/N: Sorry y’all, I’ve been on a Harry Potter kick. I still jotting stuff down to write, but I’ve been trying to get my regular life off to a good start this year and been busy too!

But, I was thinking on WinxReader and playing with the idea of Witch/WizardReader too.

Reader being sent to a magical boarding school and being convinced Bruce set aside his distain for magic to be a loving father that cares about them.

Reader thanking him for doing such after they graduate. They didn’t bother to invite Bruce or the family because they understand magic makes everyone uncomfortable, but they profusely thank Bruce for being such a great dad.

Bruce putting away the Best Dad mug Dick got him and refilling his coffee in the Worst Dad mug Jason got him while adding liquor because he was such a neglectful parent he sent his kid to a damn magical boarding school. The shame. The guilt. The mixed feelings of having one of his kids thank him for something, only to realize it’s for something he despises.

And, that’s how he finds out one of his kids can do literal magic.

[d-z20]

Hers and Hers Alone

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Agatha Harkness’s possessive nature burns brighter than ever when she claims you, not just with her words but with her magic. In the charged intimacy of her study, the line between dominance and devotion blurs, leaving no doubt that you belong entirely to her.

-OR-

She marks you with a magic tattoo cause you're oblivious to people flirting with you

Warnings: Possessive Agatha, reader is an idiot when it comes to flirting, magical marking, jealousy/obsession, claiming trope, slight angst, kind of dark romance is implied (at least their relationship is in my head), some dom/sub dynamics, reader gets called a good girl

Words: 1.9k

A/N: FuckMarvelEveryoneLives AU :P I errrr had carried this fic into the smut but then realised the request didn't ask for it so I guess what happened will just stay in my head :))

AO3 | Masterlist

Agatha Harkness always gets what she wants.

That’s the first thing you learnt when you fell into her orbit—her sharp eyes, her wicked smirk, the way her presence alone felt like it could strip you bare. It wasn’t just her power that made her dangerous; it was her confidence, the knowledge that she could claim you with nothing more than a look. And claim you, she did.

Tonight, that claim becomes permanent.

It starts earlier in the evening, though you’re far too oblivious to notice. Another witch—a newcomer to your coven—has been lingering a little too close, her compliments flowing like honey, her hand brushing yours just a bit too often. You think nothing of it, laughing at her jokes and responding with your usual warmth, but Agatha sees it all. She sits across the room, her wine glass in hand, her gaze locked on you with an intensity that sends lesser witches scattering. It’s subtle at first—the narrowing of her eyes, the slight tilt of her head—but as the other witch leans in and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, Agatha’s smile falters, replaced by something far sharper.

Jen sidles up beside her, an amused glint in her eye as she tracks Agatha’s gaze. “You’re going to set the room on fire if you keep glaring like that,” she says dryly.

“Perhaps,” Agatha mutters, her tone deceptively smooth. “But how could anyone blame me?" Her gaze flicks briefly to Jen before settling back on you.

Jen’s laughter is soft, a knowing sound that holds no pity. “She’s not doing anything. It’s you who sees it as a challenge.”

“A challenge easily won,” Agatha snaps, her irritation slipping through. Still, she doesn’t move. Not yet. She knows you too well to make a scene in public. No, this required precision.

—

The air buzzes with conversation, the flicker of candlelight casting shadows that dance across the stone walls and when you finally turn toward her, your face brightens at the sight of her. You weave through everybody, the scent of burning herbs mingling with the faint tang of red wine, excusing yourself with a polite smile and a brief touch of hands that only fuel Agatha’s determination. By the time you reach her, she has composed herself into a picture of calm.

“You’re being antisocial again,” you tease lightly, tilting your head to study her. “Should I be worried?”

“Hardly,” she replies smoothly, though her voice dips into a tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “Although perhaps you should.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Agatha steps closer, her fingers brushing your wrist lightly. The contact sparks against your skin, her magic coiling beneath the surface. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you feel the weight of her presence settle over you like a velvet cloak.

“You’ve been quite generous with your attention tonight,” she says softly, her voice carrying an edge that makes your heart skip. “Perhaps too generous.”

Your brows furrowed. “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” She laughs low and dangerous. “No, darling. Jealousy is for those who doubt their place. I know exactly where I stand. Do you?”

Her words linger in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, and then Agatha’s fingers trail up your arm, her touch deliberate and slow, leaving behind a faint, smouldering heat. The air between you thickens, charged with her magic and something even more primal. Her breath brushes your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You don’t understand yet,” she whispers, her tone laced with a dark promise. “But you will.”

“Come with me,” she commands, making your pulse race.

Agatha doesn’t speak as she pulls you down the hallway, her grip firm but not painful, though there’s no mistaking the fire in her movements. You trail after her, a little breathless from trying to keep up, still half-confused about what’s gotten into her. It’s not until she shoves open the door to her study and drags you inside that she finally stops, turning to face you. The door clicks shut behind you with a wave of her hand, the air in the room thickening, charged with something electric and unrelenting.

“Agatha—” you start, but her sharp look cuts you off.

“Do you enjoy parading yourself like that?” she asks, her voice deceptively soft as she steps closer. “Letting them think they have the right to touch what’s mine?” The words cut like a knife, her tone equal parts petal and thorn, daring you to challenge her claim.

Her words sting, but there’s a flicker of defiance in your chest. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, yet the weight of her gaze makes you second-guess yourself. “What? She was just being nice."

“Nice.” Agatha repeats, a dark chuckle escaping her lips as she closes the distance between you. “That wasn’t ‘nice,’ darling. She was flirting. And you…" Agatha pauses, her jaw tightening ever so slightly. For a fleeting moment, there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—not doubt, exactly, but something close. Vulnerability that is quickly buried under her usual sharpness. “You’re far too sweet to see it.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die in your throat as her thumb brushes your bottom lip, lingering just long enough to make your heart stutter. “You’re mine,” she says softly, almost like a warning, her eyes darkening as she leans in. “You can laugh and smile at the others all you want,” she continues, her voice like silk laced with steel. “But they’ll never know you the way I do. They’ll never touch you like this.”

Your breath hitches; your body already betraying you as heat pools in your stomach. Agatha’s hands move to your shoulders, steady and deliberate as she turns you around to face the desk. You feel the press of her body against your back, her breath warm against your neck as she leans in. “Don’t move,” she murmurs, the command dripping with authority.

You stand still, barely daring to breathe, though your mind races. The weight of her gaze, the heat of her power, wraps around you like an unrelenting grip. A thrill courses through your chest—half fear, half longing—as you realise what she’s about to do. This is more than a claim; it’s a declaration, a tether, and deep down, you’re not sure if you’d ever want to break free.

 Agatha brushes her fingers down the column of your throat and across your collarbone before stopping over your chest. Her touch is gentle, but the power swirling from her is anything but. 

“Right here,” she murmurs, her voice a dark velvet caress. Her fingers brush over your chest, leaving a tingling trail of magic in their wake. “This is where my claim belongs—above your heart, so no one ever forgets who it beats for.”

A surge of violet magic blooms from her palm, tendrils of shimmering light twisting and curling as they seep into your skin. It’s not just energy—it’s alive, sparking and crackling like a storm contained within your chest. Heat rushes through you, both foreign and familiar, as if her power is carving itself into your very being.

You gasp, your body arching instinctively as Agatha mumbles soft incantations under her breath. When she pulls her hand away, your heart is racing, and you feel it—a faint, lingering hum where her magic settled.

“Look,” she instructs, her voice soft yet commanding. 

There, etched into your skin in delicate, curling lines of violet, are Agatha’s initials. It’s an ancient and commanding mark, pulsing faintly with magic. You feel it thrum in time with your heartbeat, as though Agatha herself has left a piece of her soul imprinted onto you. 

You blink, lips parted in surprise, but before you can speak, Agatha’s fingers ghost over the mark. The second she touches it, a wave of pleasure rushes through you, leaving you trembling as a choked gasp escapes your throat.

“Sensitive, isn’t it?” She murmurs, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Maybe now you’ll remember who owns you.”

You shiver under her touch, the magic from the mark sparking with every deliberate brush of her fingers. She leans in close, her voice a low purr against your ear. “And if you ever let anyone get that close again, I’ll make sure you cannot walk for days, darling. Do you understand?”

You swallow hard, nodding wordlessly, and Agatha hums approvingly. “Good girl.”

Agatha’s approval drips like honey into your veins, the warmth of her magic lingering just beneath your skin. Your body betrays you completely—breath shaky, pulse fluttering, and heat pooling low in your stomach. Every brush of her fingers near the freshly marked skin pulls a soft gasp from your lips, and you can feel her smile against your ear.

“Sensitive already,” she husks with dark amusement, the words sending a fresh shiver down your spine. Her fingertips ghost over the mark again, just enough to make your knees buckle, and you clutch at the edge of the desk for support. “Such a pretty reaction. I could play with you like this for hours, you know. Watch you squirm. Hear you beg.”

"Agatha,” you breathe, her name tumbling from your lips in a desperate mix of frustration and longing.

She tsks softly, her free hand trailing down your side, gripping your hip firmly enough to hold you in place. “Do you feel it yet?” she asks softly, tilting your chin up to force your gaze on her. “The way you need me now?” Her voice drops lower, the teasing edge softening into something deeper, more possessive. “That mark isn’t just to ward off wandering hands, love. It’s a tether. A reminder of exactly who you belong to.”

You can only nod, unable to find your voice as the thrum of magic beneath your skin grows more insistent. The mark feels alive—Agatha’s initials pulsing faintly, like they’re echoing your own heartbeat. The sensation deepens when she leans closer, her lips just grazing the sensitive skin below your jaw, and you let out a shaky whimper before you can stop yourself.

“That’s it,” Agatha whispers against your neck, her breath sending another ripple of arousal through you. Her lips curl into a smirk as she presses a kiss there, followed by a deliberate flick of her tongue. “You’re already so desperate. My mark is working beautifully.”

Her hand trails down the front of your body, teasing but never quite satisfying the ache that’s grown unbearable. “I could make you cum just by touching it,” she continues, her voice like velvet as she strokes a single finger lightly over the mark once more. The pleasure spikes instantly—so sharp and overwhelming that your head falls back with a gasp, your thighs pressing together in a feeble attempt for relief.

Agatha pulls back just enough to watch the way you tremble, utterly at her mercy. “Tell me, darling. Do you understand now? Do you know who you belong to?”

“Yes,” you manage, the word escaping in a breathless, desperate whisper.

Her smirk widens. “Say it.”

“You, Agatha,” you murmur, your voice shaking. “I belong to you.”

“Good girl,” she hums, her voice softer now, almost tender. Her fingers trace the edge of the mark, drawing a shuddering breath from your lips. “You wear it beautifully,” she murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss just above the sigil. Her magic lingers there, warm and possessive, as she cups your cheek with a rare gentleness. “Mine,” she whispers again, more for herself than you.

-----

I just need to take a moment to appreciate the way Kathryn looks at the camera in the gif used at the start... the woman is staring into my soul and ughhhh the piercingssssss 😩😩😩

-----

Taglist: @danveration @aceday @alwaysharmony

[tsuutarr]

You almost scream when something falls into your basket, certain that you'll have to deal with a large bug. 

You soon calm down when you realize that your sudden visitor isn't a bug, but a tired garden fairy. He leans against your basket, looking worn out, causing sympathy to well up inside you. You push some of the berries inside your basket his way, causing his eyes to brighten.

After that, you've had a little fairy stalker following you around everywhere. But you don't mind – he's cute and harmless, after all. He fits into all your dollhouses and gets full eating just a few berries, so there's no way he's anything dangerous. 

In fact, he helps you out a lot! He makes you tea and helps you clean despite being so tiny. And it's really cute when he sits on your shoulder or gives you little cheek kisses or little gifts! You're still wearing that necklace with an adorable acorn charm he made you.

So of course you appreciate his company. Besides, you've been feeling a little lonely as of late, what with so many of your friends getting sick lately. You're not sure how you avoided the weird stomach bug that's been going around, but you don't really question it.

Because really, why would you ever question it? It's not like you're aware that your new little fairy friend enchanted that necklace of yours to make your friends sick whenever they talk to you, nor are you aware that he's been feeding you enchanted tea to make you more fae than human, hoping to whisk you away to the fairy realm.

Because really, why would you ever doubt him?

He's so cute and harmless, after all.

[ozzgin]

Been thinking about the fake taxi idea where reader gets fucked by a bunch of monsters. Just, puzzling out how it would work. Surely they're not all packed in there like a clown car.

So, I think it makes sense if the taxi stopped to pick up monsters and drop them off.

Of course, the first monster to fuck you is the one possessing the taxi. Then it stops in improbable locations to pick up monsters that fuck you into oblivion.

Finally, it stops outside your house, and you think it's over.

You forgot about the driver though.

Referring to this post.

I mean, if we're going to assume that a taxi filled with monstrous creatures is a realistic scenario, I feel like everything else should be just as probable.

Imagine a small car parking across the street, and dozens of monsters begin to climb their way out. Eventually, a whole ambulance stretcher holding a human is brought out by two beastly nurses (they just happened to be on the same cab). You arrived at your destination. Drenched, but satisfied.