#the juggling act of 'i know why you are the way you are and i feel for you' versus

[gayofthefae]

Just dissociated into my GA persona again - one of the better/more accurate feeling times this time - and watched the van scene.

And I think it’s function is supposed to be for Mike to finally start to get it and get what’s going on with Will. It being about getting Will’s feelings across to the audience feels a lot more fourth-wall-break-y. If you’ve been paying attention, you already know based on all the lingering stares and lingering camera shots on them and his reactions even when he’s not doing them. His reactions to Mike have been really emphasized. But even so, it can serve both purposes: putting us and Mike in the same shoes. And there is no/minimal informational purpose of a scene that is just two characters being oblivious to each other when it doesn’t even cause a miscommunication. And within just volume 2, without knowledge of season 5 - which is, of course, how it is meant to be watched: chronologically - the implication is that this scene only exists to reaffirm Will’s feelings to the audience (an insufficient motive if it is has such little affect on the characters if you ask me) and to help give Mike the confidence to tell El he loves her. But if that was the only goal it would have been done without the emphasis on Will’s personal feelings. 

In the past, Mike’s said things and regretted them because he knew they hit on insecurities of Will’s and were just generally not super cool things to say and that’s why he felt bad. But he never knew Will’s specific or personal feelings before. Just inferred that it would hurt based on his knowledge of how Will’s been treated and Will’s immediate facial reaction.

But in this one, the entire scene, Mike is entranced. He’s listening to every word. I’ve said before that he avoids interrupting like he’s scared it’ll ruin it - treating it like new information that is fragilely and vulnerably being delivered to him unlike the claim that Will is just repeating it. The entire scene, Mike is entranced. He’s listening to every word. I’ve said before that he avoids interrupting like he’s scared it’ll ruin it - treating it like new information that is fragilely and vulnerably being delivered to him unlike the claim that Will is just repeating it. He’s gaining new information. And that would also be applicable to just the information about El - if it weren’t for the way he looks at Will. And I don’t just mean in a romantic sense. In fact, I mostly wouldn’t consider it one inherently. It’s more about the up and down looks - examining Will’s face - putting the focus on Will. How Will is saying it; what Will’s micro-expressions mean for the subtext of the information - as if how Will feels about the information has bearing on the information itself. Which wouldn’t be true unless Mike believes that Will is truly the one delivering it. 

He is invested in other conversations with Will. He has been the whole rest of the season. And many of them have been emotionally intimate in a similar positive way to this one. But he has always made steady eye contact with him. He has kept that mutual intimacy through eye contact. This time, he’s analyzing Will visually, looking all across his face for answers, he’s darting back to the painting every time El is mentioned...he’s having A LOT harder of a time processing this information. Will in the scene where he’s packing is a great example of being relieved by hearing something you want to hear that gives your confidence back after a fight. He does not break eye contact. He just takes in the moment. He lets it be until it’s interrupted externally. But Mike isn’t doing it. He’s almost looking like he wants to get out of it not to stop the flow of information but just to escape into his own head (which he seems to do in the end). Will is the one more invested in the actual conversation. At the end, he too wants to break off because he needs to cry in private. He wants to break off for a similar reason of being alone with himself to process everything. But while he is trying to juggle processing it emotionally, Mike is trying to juggle processing it logically. He doesn’t want the flow of information to stop. And he is entranced. His full attention is on Will. Even when he glances away, it’s only in a dash because he is holding his focus and taking everything in, trying not to miss anything, and taking it in emotionally - things like why Will pushed him away.

I’d also like it noted that before this, they were also having quite an intimate conversation! An emotional one about how Mike feels and his deep insecurities. Will hadn’t talked much during it but when he did, this was not how Mike treated it. He didn’t treat it as morsels of invaluable information. He treated it like a normal response in a conversation. And yes, Will’s speech is more important information but still. During the speech, his faces aren’t so ambiguous for the audience. No good art is truly created for its audience. The characters in this have motives. Just like we may be placed in his shoes with Will even for those who knew to have confirmation, we are being placed in his here as well. It is ambiguous because he is confused. He doesn’t know how to react internally. He’s still just taking it all in trying not to miss anything vital.

Will’s words aren’t romantic. But the fact that he passes them off as Will’s is. And the fact that he would feel the need to hide them at all is too. Mike knows this. And he doesn’t know what to do with it. And he doesn’t know what to do with the fact that he doesn’t know what to do with it. Because one fact ABOUT not knowing what to do with it is that he doesn’t immediately know. He doesn’t immediately reject the idea mentally. He doesn’t KNOW that the answer is no - even a kind no. A mental “no” is fairly immediately. You just know these things. Of course, this is all just speculation. The entire point is that Mike’s face is unreadable from his confusion. We don’t GET any reactions from him. That’s. the point.

Until the end. He only responds one time, one word. And it’s to look for confirmation. It seems like a close to the information he’s getting: a concluding statement; an answer to his previous words. So he speaks for the first time. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” 

And he’s happy.

HE’S HAPPY with this. He isn’t still confused - I’m sure he is still processing, he goes back to the painting immediately after and continues looking over it (providing motive to look back up at Will, preoccupied enough to not notice Will is crying when looking back up at him, and/or see it and not be able to emotionally or decide he can’t situationally help). But his emotions are visible here. If we’re meant to be seeing Will’s feelings here. And we’re meant to have seen nothing from Mike indicating feelings for Will previous to this. The information we get is still clear: Will has feelings for Mike. And Mike is happy.

I don’t think it was delivered this way so that Mike doesn’t know about Will’s feelings. I think it was delivered this way so that Will doesn’t know that Mike knows.

And this also indicates to me that Mike didn’t know before this. About any of it. We know from an interview with Finn Wolfhard that Mike was, as of Vol 1 to note, completely oblivious. I am applying this to his own feelings as well. One can act in reaction to their feelings without being consciously aware of them. Mike’s reactions in the van scene are almost universally to himself. You don’t do that that much unless you have A LOT to say to yourself. And you don’t have that much to say to yourself if you’ve already had time to think on your own feelings - even if you have a lot of very confusing feelings. No, Mike is grappling with the concept itself. I don’t know that he has logically come to a conclusion by the end of it - in fact he probably hasn’t - but he does have an immediate emotional reaction upon coded confirmation. 

And this gives Mike time. He knows what Will feels now, so he confirms within Will’s code. He doesn’t ask “do you agree”, he keeps Will safe in his code. But he can clearly see and hear the emotion in the way Will answers. That’s the confirmation he needed. And this way, he keeps Will in the dark about him knowing. He gives himself time to sort it all out. And I’m not analyzing the reasons he does what he later does right now but I will say I know this: he does it in an effort to sort it out. Whether that be just to do what he has to in the moment or out of suppression. And I can also say that when Will telling him to tell El he loves her seems to hurt him. Right now, I don’t think because he takes it as a rejection, but rather because he understands more than we give him credit for. He understands what Will is sacrificing. That Will is hurting himself. He might have thought during the van scene that it was meant as a coded confession. A confession with a fallback plan. But now he sees that it wasn’t. That it was actually a secret always meant to stay a secret. That Will’s confession wasn’t him dipping his toe in the water. It was him being as self-indulgent as he would ever allow himself to be.

So now the ball is in Mike’s court. And he knows it. And he already bought himself as much time as he needs. There are loads of other factors including how he takes much of the information covered and not in this post. Who knows if he takes Will’s self-sacrifice as an invitation or a rejection, for example. But ultimately: Mike is the only one who can make a move, he is on his own time to do it, and he knows it. Now it’s just up to what he’ll do with that information.

a little analysis backtracking into s1-3 to explain his oblivion in the tags

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

megumi 🤝🏽 yuuji

dying even if it’s only for a good minute only to be brought back to life bc fate realizes if they died for real then they would need to find someone else to fuck over. those two are like fates favorite barbie dolls.

apologies if this post is going to seem all over the place, just bear with me. i don’t even know if you’re going to see this BUT it’s okay bc i need to get this out my system 😭.

starting off — god, imagine the chaos that will ensue when megumi tells nobara & yuuji about his very tragic history with the zenins. but like he wouldn’t even tell them straight up, he’ll just make a little deadpan joke (my sarcastic, sassy son) & the others would look at him like : ??? wtf do you mean by that sea urchin head???

like imagine itafushikugi going shopping for like traditional japanese clothes for a little festival or some shit (megumi was dragged by his spikes to come along) & nobara is having the time of her life finding outfits for her & the boys. like it got to the point where she’s dressing them herself & she shows megumi an outfit that looked similar to the robe he was forced to wear bc of the zenin (it’s obviously not the same) & megumi just refuses to wear a robe with similar color patterns to the zenin robe.

megumi: that looks like the outfit the zenin forced me to wear. i wonder what happened to it, cause the last thing i know, i got blood all over it. so as the second member of the zenin hate club, im not wearing that….

megumi: wait that blue one looks decent. i’m going to try it on.

nobara:

yuuji:

nobara: …did he really leave without giving us the “ getting blood on a zenin’s robe” story?

imagine maki complaining about naoya in front of the first years, & maki just brings up naoya’s onesided beef with megumi & her stories of how naoya was so petty back in his childhood made him remember who tf naoya is (megs have selective memory, it’s okay)

megumi: ugh, he was so annoying. i remember when he came to my middle school back when gojo was busy dealing with the aftermath of his evil ex boyfriend evil plan & he basically kidnapped me. i was stuck in a car with that man for 40 minutes..you would hate him nobara.

maki: yeah you would hate him nobara.

yuuji: i’m sorry he kidnapped you??? why did you say that so casually?

nobara: fuck that. megumi is a disney princess, we know this already. BUT we’re just gonna gloss over gojo had an evil boyfriend?

& imagine when megumi finally tells his friends about the zenin clan was when yuuji just came back from the dead & they were asking how tf that’s possible. & somewhere in that conversation megumi just let it slip that his heart stopped beating once & itakugi looks at him in silence:

megumi: yeah the zenin clan basically forced me to exorcise some curses & complete a ritual to get a snake — that snake fucking bit me. it was my least favorite. but yeah i basically died. then yuuta brought me back. then i was blind for a good minute.

nobara, yuuji, & even sukuna:

megumi: it was a terrible time for me. gojo was even more clingier & protective. it got to a point where he started treating me like i was 6 again… reading me bedtime stories, singing me lullabies & describing the pictures in the stories since i was…yknow blind.

cue itakugi & even sukuna wanting to burn down the zenin but ofc they can’t do that…so they settle for pulling pranks on the members & traumatizing them ofc.

IM ALSO imagining how funny it would be for yuuji to be jealous of yuuta. like bro is basically living yuuji’s fantasy world. i’m giggling at the idea of yuuji fighting for his life to be either megumi favorite or nanami’s favorite.

you also opened my eye to the potential of maki & tsumiki… like i also like to imagine that in a happier world, they would understand each other on such a deep level. but they would also find parts of the other that they wished they had. but on a happier note i like to imagine that megumi would suffer whenever it was brought up that his aunt is basically dating his step sister. like maki would be a menace to megumi. every little thing he do? maki is texting tsumiki in a corner.

maki watching itafushi cook together in the kitchen: i can’t believe megumi has a boyfriend. it’s so cute that he thinks that he can hide this from me. lemme go snitch to tsumiki.

maki listening to megumi describe his fight with sukuna, a cursed spirit who apparently has a stripping problem: oh my god. megumi is truly yuuta���s boy. they both got cursed spirits obsessed with them…i need to tell tsumiki.

maki to megumi after witnessing his suicidal tendencies: don’t make me tell tsumiki.

i honestly love your story. the way you added so much more to megumi childhood is beautiful. it just make soooo much sense. but also your characterization of gojo is so precious to me. i’m waiting for gojo to go apeshit on the zenin. i’m also giggling in anticipation at gojo finding out about yuuta attachment to megumi. i like to imagine him to be kind of worried about it actually, bc that’s not fucking healthy. but i imagine him getting used to it since megumi will have a protector in the form of yuuta & his power of love.

i’m also curious to see mai’s role in this story since.

*sighs in disappointment at gege writing choices*

since she had a crush on megumi…yeah. but imma just interpret that as she wants to be his family. it keeps me sane

i also wanted to ask if there’s a chance that you would write a megumi POV of what happened in the zenin clan? ofc i would understand if you wouldn’t since it leaves a much more ominous feeling to the events. plus yuuta running commentary is a good mix of angst & humor so ofc i understand.

Yuuji: man fushiguro almost checks the boxes for a Disney princess. except he was never kidnapped or enslaved

Megumi, sold to the Zenin clan, who later kidnapped him: *sweating*

Nobara and Yuuji would be the co-vice presidents of the "fuck the Zenin clan" club if they knew what happened. They would be the presidents but yuuta and maki are already in a death match for the position and they're trying to avoid the bloodshed. they are not allowed to be treasurer because neither of them know how money works.

megumi is unaware that a formal club has been formed.

Megumi is suffering SO HARD in any world where maki and tsumiki are together. they won't stop ganging up on him when it comes to his love life and general wellbeing and holding hands where he has to see it. maki lectures him about his suicidal tendencies in the field, holds up one finger, calls tsumiki, and lets her pick up where she left off. maki tries to talk to him about relationships one (1) time and he tries to drown himself.

see i'm pretty open to writing a megumi POV but it, like most of my stories, falls in this nebulous category of "if i have the time." like, i've thought about writing megumi's pov before, there's a lot of stuff that happened that exists as like, background knowledge for me that will never make it through yuuta's pov because it doesn't make sense for yuuta to find out about it. It would be very tonally different, but if i did write it, it would be a different work entirely and i'd be making sea glass gardens into a series.

i'm eternally tempted by the siren call of making my works into a series. If i did it with sea glass gardens, i would want to add a one shot of Megumi's pov during the time leading up to sea glass gardens and a short multi-chapter of the gojo, nanami, shoko teen parenting trio. If I have the time, it will exist; if i don't, it won't.

[fumblingmusings]

Fun thing about writing [fem] 19th Century England is you can genuinely go one step forward three steps back like oh I just wrote positive interactions between them and America which was in fact the very opposite of toxic yay progressive steps forward only to then the following chapter go and be like ah yes but what if they were the absolute worst to Oz. Like irredeemably insecure and greedy and selfish. That's the ticket.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Circus

I've been wanting to draw some of my dolls for the longest time and this turned out to be my most detailed artwork so far :') And since I really love the circus, I thought I could turn this into an interactive story, too. Let me know what you think! Based on classic stock characters from Italian theatre, Commedia dell'arte. Content: gender neutral reader, horror, dark comedy, human and monster romance

You're finally here! Come on in, don't be afraid. Where is everyone else, you ask? Why, you're our only special guest, Darling (Y/N). This is all for you. Come, do not upset the Ringmaster. We will show you everything.

A night carnival? You've never heard of such a thing. Nonetheless, curiosity got the better of you when you found the trampled poster on your way back home. The actual message almost escaped your attention; you'd been too focused on the thick, ornate border, and the colorful, swirling patterns intricately filling the page.

"Last night in town! 'Wizard of Ozz' Night Circus, a mesmerizing show that will keep you glued to your seat. We're still searching for our Columbina. Perhaps you could become part of our story?"

Might as well check it out. Which is why you're currently here, in the outskirts, trying to find a walkable path among the weeds. It's dark and you can barely see anything in front of you. They're not trying very hard to provide an inviting atmosphere, you think to yourself.

Eventually, you discern a glimmer of light in the distance. You have found the circus tents.

The campsite is quiet and still, causing you to hesitate in your decision. Is it truly open?

There's a faint murmur coming from the main entrance. A small, melancholic Pierrot - when did he show up? - awaits by the heavy curtain, pale hands stretched out.

"Your ticket, Columbina", he announces with decorum. "Me and Arlecchino will show you any tent you want to visit. We are here to entertain you."

He ponders for a moment, before adding:

"I'm sure you'll like him more. He's a very alluring fellow. Me, on the other hand...Oh, forget it", he mumbles through pouting lips, ushering you inside.

"Aha! There's the star of our night! Our Columbina!"

A tall man in a pompous, glittery costume bounces towards you and lowers himself with a theatrical bow, giving your fingers a quick kiss. You pull your hand away, visibly bothered by the odd gesture.

"You keep calling me that. I'm (Y/N)", you argue.

"Yes, yes, of course we know that. Do ya take us for fools?" the Harlequin asks, kicking one foot in the air. The jingle of the bells at the tip of his shoe echoes across the hall. "You have, however - you must understand, yes? - you've entered Ringmaster's Circus. From now on, you are the Columbina to our play."

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

"Just like that? Why me, and not someone else?" you scan the surroundings, pursing your lips. "Where are the others?"

"Others?"

Harlequin makes an exaggeratedly shocked face and tilts his head towards Pierrot.

"What are they saying? You're the only one here, Columbina darling. After tonight, we-"

Pierrot's hand lands firmly on his friend's lips.

"You always talk too much. Always, always! And yet, you're the favorite. Of course you are. Oh, what pity, what misfortune", the pale young man laments. "We're wasting precious time."

They both burst into a little dance; a rather silly one, you think with an amused smile. Then, they place themselves besides the entrance, each one standing at one end, back straight and chins raised.

"Go on, go ahead, Columbina darling. This is your carnival. Choose any tent you'd like."

Pulcinella's Tent

The stage is pitch black, save for one spotlight contouring a patch of ground. You can see a large, colorful ball, and two feet clumsily rolling their way atop of it.

You chuckle at the sight. This must be the clown.

"No one can compete with Pulcinella's juggling", Pierrot declares somewhat monotonously. "His acrobatic spectacle has left many guests speechless, acting with such dexterity that one must wonder: is this truly the work of two hands?"

Lights flicker, allowing you to catch glimpses of smaller balls being thrown around. Juggling so many balls while bouncing around is indeed impressive.

"Rest assured, this is the art of one single man. Although four eyes are better than two."

The shadows are abruptly swallowed by spotlights, and you squint your eyes, adjusting to the brightness. A two-headed man continues his performance, throwing you the occasional cheeky smile.

"Ah, that is..." you place a hand over your mouth.

"A bother, truly", the Pierrot remarks, sitting next to you. "They're complete opposites."

He observes as both Pulcinella's heads tilt in your direction, visibly entranced. He sighs deeply:

"You'll love them either way. They're funny and entertaining, unlike me...A pathetic miser. Oh, if only I had half their charm!" he bemoans with a soft sob.

"Hey! Don't sadden my beloved like that", Pulcinella barks, jumping off the ball and running towards your seating with a comically merry jingle to accompany him.

You cannot help but marvel at the man in front of you.

"Enough of this, I've had enough! You don't get to decide yet, Pulcinella", Pierrot exclaims in sudden panic. He claws your wrist tightly and pulls you after him. "It's time to see other tents."

Sandrone's Tent

You peek behind the heavy curtain and freeze. Are your eyes deceiving you? Someone is idly resting at the bottom of a large aquarium, showing no struggle despite being underwater. The mysterious man senses your presence and emerges to the surface.

"Would you look at that! I can't remember the last time I had a visitor."

He gestures for you to come closer.

"Are you the new guest? Our Columbina?"

"I don't know what you're talking about", you speak up with hesitation, eyes glued to the scaly tail that seems eerily genuine. "I think I'll be leaving now."

"Leaving? Didn't the Ringmaster already tell you?" The merman claps his hands, amused. "You're naïve, I like that a lot. Perhaps this time I'll be the one to have you."

He abruptly grabs your wrist, and you jolt at the feeling. His hands are ice-cold and moist.

"Let me have a look at you, won't you? I'll help you hide from the others if you're good and listen to me."

You feel a pair of hands sinking into your shoulders, and you're ripped away from the merman. Harlequin's voice rumbles deeply across the room.

"You're being a fox again, aren't you, Sandrone? Hands off our guest! You don't get to pick yet", he scolds in a low growl. "Ringmaster won't be happy about it."

"Go on then, tell on me! Ringmaster's good boy, eh?" the dark-skinned man smirks mockingly and slams his tail against the glass. "Put a collar on that one, Columbina. See how well he barks", he snarls, then slides back underwater and promptly vanishes.

Harlequin's grip on your shoulders becomes tighter for a brief moment. You can tell he's tense.

"Let's get you out of here. Don't listen to a word he says, Columbina darling. He lies, you see? No one trusts him. You should rely on me."

Pantalone's Tent

You gawk at the impressive height of this tent, head nearly spinning from tilting yourself all the way back. Ah, this must be the trapeze artist. Indeed, one of the two handles is dangling above you, and it occurs to you there's no safety net. A tall, lean man swiftly pounces across, reaching for the trapeze. His movements are slow, yet calculated, and you can't help but wonder if he might actually be flying instead.

Upon closer inspection, it appears he has no arms.

"Madness", you find yourself shouting. "Stop this nonsense!"

He gracefully wraps his legs around the bar, swinging back and forth with a confident smile.

"You doubt me, Pantalone himself?"

With another thrust, he lets himself go, spiraling down against your terrified protests. His heeled shoes clack against the hard tile. Lastly, he stretches out his bandaged stumps, as if signaling his successful landing.

You find yourself bowing to the grand gesture.

"Yes, yes, it's rather impressive, isn't it?" Pierrot follows behind you in his usual dull tone. "Pantalone is our master acrobat."

He lifts his gaze and notices that the man didn't bother waiting for a full introduction; he's already standing before you with a flirty grin.

"...and a charmer, I suppose. What, you're already doing your tricks?"

The sallow clown squeezes himself behind you two protectively.

"Shoo, shoo! Columbina is merely visiting."

He lightly pushes you away, towards the exit. You throw one final glance at the mysterious individual; he waves with his residual limb, and winks.

"You know where to find me, love."

Il Capitano's Tent

You feel a radiant heat coming from this tent. In the middle of the ring stands a grand cage. An animal of sorts? You keep your distance, observing from the benches.

A monstrous giant stumbles within your view with heavy steps. A thick, scaly tail rattles the bars of the cage, swinging itself with the precision of a bullwhip.

"Il Capitano himself!" the Harelquin announces theatrically, bending his arms in the direction of the blue beast. "The strongman, the fire-spitting artist, a most devilish creature captured and chained by our Ringmaster."

"Is this one mine?" the monstrous man pins you down with a predatory gaze.

"Perhaps", Harlequin spits out bitterly. "They decide, not you."

You squirm in your seat, suddenly much smaller under his intense stare. The charismatic guide's smile falters for a brief second, replaced by an envious grimace.

Il Capitano inhales deeply, expanding his torso and contracting his muscles. His fanged mouth then unhinges, releasing a great flame which spreads all the way to you. You're almost tempted to reach towards it, feeling the sting with your very fingers.

"Amazing", you mumble, still mesmerized by the spectacle.

This was no cheap trickery. Capitano is truly a one-of-a-kind artist. No human could replicate such a feat.

The beastly creature holds onto the bars of his cage, shoving his snout outside and grinning. Puffs of smoke escape between his teeth.

"Come down here and I can do even more, little one."

Harlequin gasps and gestures for you to stand up.

"Outrageous! How dare you-!"

He urges you to follow him outside. Enough monstrous sights for now.

"Shall we head towards the other tents, darling?"

Harlequin walks ahead, deep in contemplation. Pierrot scurries after him, whispering the remaining choices. Your shoulders are heavy, and you're quite tired from the eventful night.

You notice a little opening between the lavish curtain folds and decide to sneak away. They needn't know about your departure. You stumble around dark halls, following the cool breeze of the outside, until you're met with the starry sky.

Your path is blocked by two large poles, so you step to the right. Your body freezes in terror when they move with you. Slowly, you raise your head and follow the black shapes, and realize they're legs.

Far, far above ground, towering over the entire circus, you see two glowing eyes.

It's the Ringmaster.

"Bad, bad Columbina", he reproaches.

The voice is off, like an old, broken record reverberating against your eardrums. A cold shiver runs across your spine.

"I'm sorry", you blurt out in fear.

A long, bony hand appears before you, twitching with a loud pop. You wrap your hands around a finger, desperate to not anger this unholy creation.

"Let's take you to your caravan. We're leaving tomorrow."

Oh, God. What have you done?

Now, now, don't fret. There's nothing to be afraid of. Come, put that frown aside. Everyone loves you here. After all, you're their most precious Columbina. What's a Circus without its treasure?

[crypticminx]

nate w reader that has baby fever

Hi anon, this was fun lovey xx

Baby Fever with Nate Jacobs

Slight breeding kink mentioned but not rlly, ditzy reader, Nate being reasonable??

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა

“Nate”

“No.”

“But Nate—“

“Y/n, please.”

You stare at your now provoked boyfriend, who is frustratingly trying to get through his school work. He’s sat at his desk, his books messily sprawled across the surface of the smooth wood, textbook open and notebook filled with neat handwriting as he burns through each question. By this point, his mind is eagerly fighting to stay focused, but as long as you’re there in his bed beside him, he knows he won’t finish.

“Nate!” You yell again, this time biting your tongue from laughter as you can see his face grow red with tension.

“Y/n, I said no,” he runs his fingers through his hair, feeling like he can’t keep up with neither you or his homework. Defeat wasn’t an easy solution for him.

“But whyyy,” you whine as you turn off your phone and lay on your chest, your legs happily kicking away. Dressed in nothing but Nate’s oversized sweater and some knee high socks, he would be an absolute liar if he didn’t find you so desirably hot in this very moment.

But he also found the strength to maintain his composure with what little self respect he had for himself.

“Because we’re too young to have a fucking baby,” he sighs, stopping himself from raising his voice at you without the further intent of making you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

It doesn’t phase you though.

You roll your eyes, exaggerating the size of them as you huff in annoyance of your boyfriend being extremely noncompliant with your needy request.

In all fairness, it wasn’t your fault.

You were cute. Nate was really fucking cute. Thus, the rash realization that the two of you would definitely make cute babies.

“Okay so not now…,” you speak to him as if you’re trying to trick him. The way your voice trails with giddiness sets him to believe that whatever you’re conspiring isn’t going to be reasonable or ideally realistic.

He stares at you with a blank expression, his eyes don’t flash their usual sparkle and he seems rather unimpressed by how good you are at making him feel irked.

“Sooooo what about tomorrow?”

He slams his textbook down, the noise is loud and almost thunderous as you slightly jolt. Your smile fades as you can see he might actually be upset, but it didn’t make sense.

When the two of you got down to business, he praised you. He acted like he worshiped the very ground you walked on and treated you like a princess. He’d whisper things to you—very private, sentimental statements that made your heart flutter with an overwhelming sense of pride.

And now he was mad at you?

You cross your arms, trying not to let out all the steam burried inside your frustrations as he was quick to apologize.

“Babe, I’m sorry,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead as he took a seat next to you. He ran his fingers down your bare thigh, the smooth motion of his hands were enough to make you feel relaxed again, but he wasn’t off the hook.

“If you’re so sorry, why can’t you give me a baby…” you pout, tossing him a big frown that almost made him feel sorry for you.

He doesn’t know how to explain it, it seems you’re too cooped up in your own little fantasy world where having baby isn’t unrealistic and wouldn’t be a huge deal.

“Y/n,” he carefully plays with your hair, pushing a loose strand behind your ear to see the full extent of your face on display, however, you didn’t seem happy. “We’re in high school, how are we going to juggle having a baby?”

“Ugh,” you push him away, playfully of course, “don’t give me that talk, Nate.”

He shrugs his shoulders, letting his mind trail to the possibilities of getting you pregnant. and in all honesty, it didn’t seem too bad. He always wanted a child, but the timing and the moment just didn’t match up with that idea.

It would cause havoc, with both your family and his. He had no doubt about that as he could hear his fathers aggravating voice shout in his head, telling him how much of an awful father he would turn out to be. That alone was offputting.

“Don’t you wanna cum in me?”

And there you were, edging him with that soft voice of yours that knew how to get him riled up with heat. You bat your eyelashes, titling your head with a devious grin.

“Fill me up with your baby? I know you want to….Nate.” The words roll off your toungue as he fails to keep himself from melting away. He wants nothing more than to make you his—but would he ruin his life just to give you something that you want?

That would be something the two of you would find out—in a few months time.

[hoshigray]

hellooo! i had an idea i wanted to add onto the sukuna smut you had where he was rebellious student and she was the student body. i was thinking about the reader taking charge of sukuna even after he talked about how she would be under him.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omfg FINALLY i have time to do this req!! second part to this request.

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; Sukuna and you are college seniors - degradation (bitch, slut, whore) - impact play (spanking) - prone bone + cowgirl positions - breast play + nipple play - cervix fucking- dick piercing (frenulum) - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - creampies - overstimulation - clitoral play (friction/grinding) - pet names (brat, good girl, pet, princess, woman) - implied blackmail - Sukuna being a sadist fuck, per usual - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

“—Khhh! Ahaaa, fuuck, ‘Ryoo, slow do—Ahhnn!!”

“Nnnmm…Heh, dumb pet; think you have any right to tell me what to do…”

Being the president of the student body entails many responsibilities. It’s a highly respectable title expected to be exhibited by the poisest of souls—a soul that you behold and have been recognized with for the past four years of your college life. 

Senior year, a time that was supposed to be a smooth sail, unexpectedly brought its own set of challenges. Despite meticulously planning your major and minor courses, the final year turned out to be a juggling act, with five classes and the added responsibilities of extracurriculars and student government. But at the very least, it’s nothing you- student president- can’t handle.

What is one thing you can’t handle, however, is the man who has you all naked and sweating on his red satin sheets.

Sukuna has you face down to the mattress, a hand on your head to keep your cheek smooshed to the silky sheet, while the other pins you down by the waist. From behind, he ruts into your bare ass with a rough pace, jackhammering his cock into your wet cunt that’s already stuffed with his come from the rounds prior. 

Being in a situation like this is not what you envisioned would happen in your last year of college — let alone with the likes of him. You’d rather wring your own neck than be within arm’s length of Ryōmen Sukuna’s perimeter. The named senior has been on your shit list for the past three years, fucking delinquent, only doing what he wants for his pleasure, rules be damned. 

The exact aspect goes along with you, too; the only reason why you’re allowing this bastard to touch you like this is because of the material he has to bring your reputation down—all these years of hard work threatened to crumble down because of some inappropriate pictures and videos of you. To him, he could care less about releasing them and seeing your life diminish before his very eyes. As for you, you couldn’t let that happen, unable to sleep at night knowing the man you hate with your very being has shit on you for his petty enjoyment. 

So here you are, in the sole bedroom of his apartment, stripped of your clothes, your titles, and your dignity. All bare and nude for this vile man to see and use you as he sees fit in the most raunchy ways. I hate this so much...

“Hey, whore. Quit squirmin’ around like that, and let me finish you off.”

Sukuna slaps your ass for the tenth time that night, the skin of your butt hot and stinging with pain from the impacts and pinches of his nails. The sore feeling spreads with the crash of his pelvis slamming on your rear and his girthy dick churning the velvety texture of your insides. Each pound rocks you to submission, drool exiting your lips to the sheets and sticks to your chin. You’re sure you look like an idiot, all tousled because of his rough demeanor. Too angry with yourself that you fight the tears. I hate this so fucking much…

“—Ohhh!!” You wail out, eyes rolling up to your skull from the brush of your cervix. “Nnoohh!! F-Fuuuck! Ahaahnn...!”

The man above you snickers wickedly. “Keheh, look at you, crying like a real bitch in heat.” Another slap to your asscheek has you scream some more; your vocals are dragged out by his fingernails, piercing your inflamed skin. “Shit, can never get enough of this tight pussy. Never expected someone like you to be so good at wringing cock, prez.”

“Mmmph…! Go f–fuck yer’self, Ryōmen…” Even if he has your head pinned, your persistence furls you to throw a glare his way. 

But it only humors the tattooed senior above you. “And bore myself when there’s a perfect piece of ass that can take me?” He slams his pelvis harshly and jabs to your cervix by the tip prompts tears to strike down. “Though you were smarter than that, woman.”

You grit your teeth when Sukuna increases the speed of his thrusts; the piercing of his frenulum rubs on your inner walls without fail. Toes curl from another hard smack to your butt, nearly biting the skin of your bottom lip from yet another twinge of pain. 

“Taaah, ughhh, ohmyGoood…!” You can sense your cunt begin to throb–your orgasm is about to hit. “Su’kunaa, please slow downnn, I’m so–I’m gonna…Mmfffaaa!!”

Shocks tingle up your spine with the climb of your climax crashing down, your vagina contracting around the girthy length burrowing deep inside you. Howls are expressed with a euphoric tone despite the soreness of your poor, aching body. And Sukuna groans at the feeling of you clamping onto him, using slow movements of his hips to enjoy the contraction.

“Hnngh..! Dumb brat, thinkin’ you’re free to cum without my say-so.” A playful slap to your butt has you jolt, your figure still sensitive with your hazy high. It’s not like I didn’t tell you to slow down, you asshole. You sharply gasp at the withdrawal of his member, and his load exudes out with a sloppy force that messes your inner thighs. He then bends to your ear, his cold, sweaty chest sticking to your back. “Dirty slut chasin’ for yer own release. Have you no shame, princess?”

Stop talking to me… You were disgusted by the shudder you felt as he licked your ear.

“Thanks to you, I’m still hard,” he rubs his solid dick on the crevice of your ass, his come-coated member erotically grinding on the soft flesh. “Now stay fucking still ‘till I’m done with you—”

Rarely does Sukuna find himself perplexed. One moment, he’s proudly stationed above you. Then, you surprised him by rolling him to his back in a flash. The action takes him aback–somewhat amazed you could take his weight–and he sees your figure come over with your legs on either side of his waist. 

Now, you were on top of him—a rarity that neither of you expected.

Pinkish orange brows remain neutral, yet his piercing scarlet eyes bore holes into your frame. “And just the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

“What it looks like I’m doing.” You reply with a tiny malice — enough you knew wouldn’t get you into too much trouble with the man you’re on top of. Your hand grasps on Sukuna’s cock and strokes the erect limb. “I’m finishing you off.”

Did you gulp at the motion of a single brow being lifted? Of course you did. Albeit you were stubbornly confident, you’d be a fool if you weren’t frightened. Yet the man sneered after a few brief seconds. “Is that right? The president thinks they can do all the work, huh.” You observed Sukuna bringing his hands to relax behind his head, “Well, what are you waitin’ for? Take care of your fellow student, Miss Prez.”

I hate his ass so fucking much—you can only express your disdain through your inner dialogue, wanting nothing but to wipe that evil sneer off his tattooed face. Yet you know that’s not what’s expected of you now. So, with a gulp and a slow inhale, your hips are pulled up by yourself, and your hand guides the pulsing length in your grasp to your leaking slit. 

You gasp at the contact of his glans kissing your labia, the sight of the some dripping from your vagina sticking to Sukuna’s girth was too repulsive to the eye. Humiliation continues to shrink your core at the display before you. “Don’t keep me waiting, woman. Or I’ll go back and do the job myself, seeing you’re too scared.” The salmon-haired man doesn’t flinch at your scowl. 

“Don’t rush me, Ryōmen,” you threaten with gritted teeth, chewing on your bottom lip as you bring your ass down to take in the fat tip once more. The pain has you wince for a few seconds, hoping to God that the man below doesn’t get too impatient enough to slam you down on his cock himself because you know he wouldn’t give a damn if you’d be in pain or not.

But it does enter you; a sharp gasp erupted out of your frame at the scrape of his frenulum piercing back inside. Your hands involuntarily find something to keep your balance steady, using his chest to do the job.

As for Sukuna, his crimson eyes were honed in on you, taking in every detail of your expressions, your shaky voice, and the twitches of your body as your cunt swallowed every inch of his shaft back into your warmth until you reached the very hilt. “Good girl,” he scoffs at the sudden squeeze of your walls on him. “Don’t let a little praise get to your head; start moving, pet.”

You release a gradual sigh, and your hips begin to move. Your nerves are still under the effects of the recent climax, so your inner walls are still keen as every graze of Sukuna’s tip and piercing has you tremble like a leaf. It almost makes you scared to move entirely, thinking one wrong move will break you. 

“C’mon, Y/n,” you gasp at Sukna’s hands, finding your exposed chest to grope. “Is this the best you can do? With those slow-ass hips?”

You knew he meant to entice you, yet it was working. Your waist gauges the speed of your rhythm, now bouncing on Sukuna’s length with a purpose despite your sensitive nerves having you mewl. And your shrills come out slurred at the rough tweak of your nipples. This fool has no gentle bone in his body, using your sore body in whatever interests him. 

“Mmnngh, yeah, like that,” Sukuna purrs, fondling your breasts with fingers hungry for their flesh to play and tease. “Harder” wasn’t something to question—a simple demand you had to indulge in. You flatten your mouth as you bring your hips down more to the point that the skin of your ass hits his groin and thighs. “Harder,” he commands again, your hips now slamming hard down on him, and you shake at the poke of your cervix, nails digging into his pectorals. And the black-marked man snickers at the display. “Harder.”

You couldn’t keep your frame upright; another pound of your hips onto him caused another poke of your cervix, resulting in you losing your balance and your body falling onto Sukuna’s, who barks a laugh. “Tah, pathetic, can’t even stay upright when taking my cock.” And to make it worse, he criticizes you, his hands now moving to your butt to squeeze and slap onto. “I like the view, though. Not every day do I see a pretty face above me like this.” You scream at the buck of his hips, his dick rubbing on your G-spot with precision. “Just need some help to ease your incompetence, princess.” 

Oh, you hated how close your face was to his; if you weren’t so dazed, you’d spit at him. “—Tch, s-shut up, ‘Kunaa! Go die—Eeyaahh!” Another slap on your asscheek and graze on the upper wall of your cunt has you shrieking.

“Not a chance,” his face gets closer to yours. “Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction…” And then your moan is muffled with the addition of his lips onto yours, the Ryōmen Sukuna kissing you.

When the night couldn’t get any worse, here is Sukuna shoving his tongue into your mouth, exchanging his saliva with yours as your tongue swirls with his before he sucks on it. Fucking sickening, the nerve of this fucker! You hate how passionate the kiss became as his thrusts coincided with yours, getting faster and faster as your teeth clashed with his. My God, just fucking cum already!

You decided it was time to end this session once and for all, the pace of your hips going erratic. Every bounce of your ass came with a twinge of your cunt around Sukuna’s member; the groans he expresses into your lips are just what you’re looking for. And the more you bend forward, the friction of your clitoris grinding on his pelvis gets better. At least you’re getting some pleasure out of this…

You knew he was close to chasing his orgasm the moment his ruts to your cunt synced with yours, so it’s no surprise his fingers grip your butt and keep you grounded on him as he spills another load into you. Fuck, you can feel his cock pulsating inside you, and you can only imagine how messy it looks down there once you’re finally off of him.

Even as he’s experiencing the shocks and trembles of his release, Sukuna doesn’t break the kiss until the very end. A hand comes to the back of your head, keeping your face and mouth on him, deepen the kiss and take your breath away (literally). And once your bodies calm down, his lips finally withdraw from yours, leaving you two panting heavily among yourselves. Spit connects to your lips, but you quickly break the link with your hand covering your mouth.

“Ya know,” Sukuna breathlessly chuckles while his other hand kneads the flesh of your butt. “Think you’re startin’ to enjoy this just as much as I am.”

Eyes narrow at his words, and you turn to the side to spit his saliva out of your mouth. You wipe your mouth with a tiny grin. “You fucking wish…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[solxamber]

Match Made in Madness - Floyd Leech x reader

Soulmates get updates of each other's lives through an overly enthusiastic dream narrator. What's worse is that your soulmate seems to be completely unhinged.

It all starts on another one of those nights—the weird dream where your soulmate’s day is narrated to you in the most ridiculous fashion imaginable. No names, no faces, just an over-the-top, enthusiastic narrator who acts like they’re introducing a daytime soap.

"Good evening, soulmate! Ready for another wild day? Well, buckle up, because your beloved got into a fight with a vending machine!"

You groan in your sleep, already bracing for what’s next. The narrator continues with gleeful energy:

"After losing said battle, your soulmate kicked the machine and declared, ‘I’ll have the last laugh, metal box!’ Later in the day, they spent 45 minutes trying to convince a bird to become their personal spy. Spoiler alert: the bird didn’t agree, but they’re not giving up anytime soon!"

When you wake up, you rub your eyes and mutter, "What the hell is my soulmate doing?" Clearly, the universe decided to match you with an absolute madman, and you’re starting to wonder if you’ll even survive meeting them.

The dreams continue for weeks, and the updates get progressively weirder. Whoever this person is, they have the chaotic energy of a tornado in a convenience store. One night, you get this gem:

"Exciting news! Today, your soulmate tried to see if they could juggle three eels at once. Spoiler: they couldn’t, but they did manage to send one flying into a professor’s lunch. Next on the agenda, they challenged the ocean to a race. The ocean won."

You’re so used to these bizarre updates by now that you don’t even flinch. Instead, you’re beginning to wonder why the universe thinks it’s funny to torture you with someone who clearly doesn’t have a firm grasp on reality.

And then one night, the narrator drops a bombshell:

"Your soulmate spent the entire afternoon wondering if there’s any way they could convince their twin brother to switch places with them on a date— Oh wait, forget I said that! That one’s classified!*"

What? Now, you’re officially on edge. Not only do they have a twin, but they’ve been thinking about dating? This is spiraling out of control.

You’re sitting at the Mostro Lounge, thinking about the increasingly unhinged dreams when you spot Floyd Leech across the room. Normally, you’d ignore him because, well, Floyd has a reputation, and it’s not exactly “outstanding member of society.”

But today, something feels off. You’ve heard a few things—people say he’s chaotic, unpredictable, and obsessed with “playing” with his victims. And suddenly, you can’t stop thinking about the dream where your soulmate tried to juggle eels.

Floyd catches your eye, and before you can look away, he’s making a beeline for your table. Oh no. Please no.

“Hey, Shrimpy,” he says with his usual, lazy grin, flopping down in the seat next to you like he owns the place. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Close enough.

You swallow hard. “Uh… just thinking.”

“Thinking, huh?” Floyd leans in, uncomfortably close. “What about?”

How are you supposed to say, I think you’re my soulmate, but I’m also convinced you’re a lunatic? Instead, you nervously laugh. “Oh, nothing. Just… dreams.”

“Dreams, huh?” Floyd’s eyes narrow, but he looks more interested than suspicious. “Like… those ones where some random guy is juggling eels?”

Your blood runs cold.

“Wait—how did you know about the eels?”

Floyd’s grin widens. “Oh? So it is you! I knew it!” He laughs, leaning back with a satisfied look, like he’s just solved the greatest mystery of his life. “Shrimpy, you’re hilarious! I’ve been having those dreams about you, too. You’re always doing weird stuff, like… rescuing ducks or tripping over your own feet.”

Your heart races. “Wait, so—you're my soulmate?”

“Duh,” Floyd says, rolling his eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The universe has a sense of humor, doesn’t it?”

At first, you’re convinced this is a prank, a cruel joke. But the more you talk to Floyd, the more everything starts to click into place. He’s chaotic, sure. Completely unpredictable? Absolutely. But he’s also the same person who, according to your dreams, once wondered if seaweed could be used as a fashion statement. He’s also the guy who—oh right—challenged the ocean to a race.

And now that you’ve met him, you realize one important detail: he’s perfect.

Well, perfect in the most unhinged way possible.

A week later, you find yourself in an increasingly ridiculous situation—Floyd has somehow convinced you to help him “steal” a giant fish from the campus pond.

“Why are we doing this again?” you ask, holding the bucket as he dives headfirst into the water.

“Because,” Floyd says between splashes, “the fish looks like he’s having a bad day, so we’re gonna give him a makeover.”

You stare blankly at the pond. “You want to makeover a fish.”

Floyd pops back up, water dripping from his hair, with a grin that could melt glaciers. “Yeah! Why not?”

You don’t have a good answer for that, so you just shrug. This is my life now.

That night, you’re lying in bed, starting to doze off, when the dream narrator pops up again:

"Good evening, soulmate! Today, your other half tried to give a fish a new look. It didn’t work, but they still had fun! Also, they’ve been thinking about holding your hand."

You wake up with a groan, rubbing your face in disbelief. Of course, Floyd would think about something like that in the middle of a fish-stealing escapade. But there’s something undeniably sweet about it, too.

The next day, Floyd grabs your hand without warning as you’re walking through campus. “I had a dream about this,” he says casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

You smile, squeezing his hand back. “So did I.”

Maybe the universe isn’t such a prankster after all.

Masterlist

[astro-stars]

Hear me out on this... TWST with a Southern! Reader.

Like, it's the first day of school, and obviously Reader can't remember the names of the two people they just met, so when Ace says one thing or another, complaining about someone called Riddle, they just go "Hm, yeah, sweetheart."

Ace drops his lunch.

Or when they step on Leona's tail by accident, immediately going, "Oh, darling, are you alright?"

Leona couldn't fall asleep for the first time in a while.

Or after Azul's overblot, how can he not cry more, especially when Reader is rubbing circles into his shoulders, cooing, "It's okay, love, let it all out."

The scammer, unfortunately, couldn't look Reader in the eyes for a while after that.

Or when Reader gets mad, like when they cook something for their friends and Grim eats it, their immediate instinct is to go "WITH ALL I DO FOR THIS HOUSE, YOUNG MAN, WHY DON'T YOU TRY YOUR HAND AT FEEDING THIS HOUSE?!"

By house, they mean the five other first years.

please ignore that theyre out of order😭 its just the order i came up with them!

Ace Trappola

During a Class Mishap Ace messes up a potion and it starts bubbling over, covering his face in soot. Reader chuckles softly and drawls, “Well, bless your heart, sugar, you tryin’ to invent fireworks in here?” Ace sputters, trying to explain himself, but the way Reader says “sugar” makes him forget what he was even going to say. He spends the rest of the class trying (and failing) to act unfazed.

Deuce Spade

When He Gets Into Trouble Deuce gets caught in yet another fight, his uniform a mess. Reader sighs, crossing their arms. “Now, darlin’, I know your momma raised you better than this. You think brawlin’ is gonna solve your problems?” Deuce blushes deeply, stammering out an apology, and promises to do better. He can’t decide if Reader’s scolding feels more like comfort or a proper lecture, but either way, it gets through to him.

Jack Howl

After a Long Run Jack comes back from a run, panting heavily. Reader hands him a water bottle and says, “There you go, honey. Can’t have you keelin’ over on me, now.” Jack pauses mid-sip, ears twitching. He mumbles a quiet “thanks” but spends the rest of the day wondering why being called “honey” makes his tail wag.

Ruggie Bucchi

When He Steals Food Ruggie swipes a bite of Reader’s lunch, thinking they won’t notice. Reader glares and slams their hand on the table. “Now, listen here, sugar. If you’re gonna steal from me, at least have the decency to leave a ‘thank you’ note!” Ruggie freezes, torn between laughing and apologizing. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, I’ll leave a note next time, promise.”

Floyd Leech

During One of Floyd’s Moods Floyd is sulking in the lounge, glaring at anyone who comes near. Reader plops down beside him, ignoring the tension. “What’s got you in such a twist, darlin’? You look like a cat that’s been rained on.” Floyd blinks at them before breaking into a grin. “Heh, you’re funny. I like you.” He’s back to his usual chaotic self in no time, dragging Reader into whatever mischief he has planned.

Jamil Viper

When He’s Overworked Reader notices Jamil trying to juggle a million tasks at once. They gently take a tray from his hands and say, “Now, love, you can’t be doin’ everything yourself. Even the strongest trees need a little support.” Jamil hesitates but lets them help. Later, he finds himself thinking about how soft their voice was when they called him “love.”

Kalim Al-Asim

When He’s Overly Excited Kalim bursts into Reader’s room, talking a mile a minute about his latest idea for a party. Reader smiles fondly and says, “Alright, sugarcube, slow down. You’re buzzin’ around like a bee in a flower shop.” Kalim laughs, realizing he’s gotten carried away. “Sorry! I just get so excited talking to you!” Reader’s warm tone makes him feel even more enthusiastic.

Sebek Zigvolt

When He’s Loud (As Always) Sebek’s voice booms through the dorm, startling everyone nearby. Reader raises an eyebrow and says, “Well, darlin’, you sure do have a voice on you. Could probably wake the dead if you tried.” Sebek pauses, unsure if that was a compliment or not. He straightens up and replies, “Of course! A knight must always be heard!” But his face betrays the fact that he’s flustered.

Silver

When He Falls Asleep Reader finds Silver asleep under a tree and gently drapes a blanket over him. “Sleep tight, sugar. Even knights need their rest.” When Silver wakes up and sees the blanket, his heart skips a beat. He quietly resolves to thank them later, though he’s already blushing at the thought.

Vil Schoenheit

During a Self-Care Lesson Vil insists on giving Reader a skincare lesson. As he critiques their routine, Reader smirks and says, “Well, bless your heart, sweetpea. I didn’t realize I was sittin’ with the beauty queen of Twisted Wonderland.” Vil narrows his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitch upward. “Flattery will get you nowhere—though I appreciate the sentiment.”

Rook Hunt

When He’s Observing Them Rook starts waxing poetic about Reader’s charm and grace. They laugh and reply, “Oh, honey, you’re layin’ it on thicker than molasses on a pancake.” Rook places a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “But I only speak the truth, mon trésor!” Reader shakes their head, amused by his dramatics.

Epel Felmier

When He’s Feeling Insecure Epel complains about being underestimated because of his looks. Reader pats his shoulder and says, “Now, don’t you fret, darlin’. Even the prettiest apples can pack the strongest punch.” Epel grins, feeling a little more confident. “Thanks, Yuu. You’re real good at makin’ a guy feel better.”

Idia Shroud

When He’s Awkward Around Them Reader catches Idia muttering to himself about a game. They lean in with a warm smile. “Whatcha talkin’ about, sugar? Don’t keep me in suspense.” Idia jumps, his hair flaring pink. “N-nothing! It’s nothing!” But the way they said “sugar” replays in his head for days.

Malleus Draconia

During a Starlit Walk Reader invites Malleus to stargaze with them, saying, “Ain’t the night sky somethin’ else, darlin’? Makes all the troubles of the day seem so small.” Malleus gazes at them instead of the stars. “Indeed,” he murmurs, though he’s not talking about the sky.

not malleus all on his own

TAGLIST; @soramcduckahyucky

[giselleloversclub]

RIIZE SMAU REC

OSAKI SHOTARO

MAKE A WISH @a3r3n

Y/n loves her best friends, but if there's one thing she would change about them, it is the way they constantly prank her. They think she's too shy and diligent, and that she can have some fun at least through their jokes. But what if one of their pranks leads her to message an unknown number, and they grow close without even knowing who they are?

shotaro x fem reader

___________________________________

SONG EUNSEOK

SO I MARRIED MY ANTI-FAN @nyuoqi

congratulations! you have been invited to korea's #1 romance reality show 'We Got Married' where you will be living with your co-star like a married couple. but what will you do when you find out that your husband is actually your anti-fan?

song eunseok x fem!reader

COLLAB WITH YOU @onlyhyunjin

You’ve always had eyes for Song Eunseok since his debut. He has consistently caught your attention, but you believe he’s never noticed you in that way. Determined to change that, an opportunity arises when the two of you are offered a collab together.

idol!eunseok x idol f!reader

FAVORITE ONE @seokvrtual

you’ve confessed to eunseok a total of two times: once in eighth grade and once in eleventh. both times ended in rejection—something you’re not exactly proud of. now, as you begin a new chapter of life with university starting, you can’t help but feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke as you keep orbiting around the same guy who turned you down twice.

fem! reader x eunseok

BASICS @lwtqts

y/n is low-key a loner at her college and her dearest friend tells her to hang out with his friend, what happens when she entangles herself with him ?

student!eunseok x fem!reader

BOY NEXT DOOR @ywnzn

in which yn keeps texting a random number life updates, that turns out to be the boy next door.

song eunseok x fem!reader.

___________________________________

JUNG SUNGCHAN

BEHIND THE SCREEN @melobin

in which sungchan discovers his favorite camgirl also happens to be his roommate.

camgirl reader x roommate sungchan

! smut / mdni !

TEN THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU <3 @x0llaz

Lee Sohee is tasked with finding someone to date Shin YN, in order to date the girl he has a crush on. When in doubt, he calls upon Jung Sungchan. If anyone was crazy enough to ask her out, it would be him.

Sungchan x fem!reader

HYDRANGEA LOVE @ywnzn

yn, model & owner of a well-known perfume brand, releases a new series inspired by a heartbreak she went through. completely unaware that the new rising model who was chosen to promote the series is the same person who caused the heartbreak itself, park wonbin.

ex!park wonbin x fem!reader x jung sungchan

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PARK WONBIN

ღ infrunami @nyanbin

after unwittingly moving in with three boys who go to the same university as you, you learn to become accustomed to the unpredictable dynamics of living with them, alongside the typical troubles that come with being a college student. out of everything, though, your biggeset conundrum seemed to be figuring out where you stand with park wonbin.

park wonbin / fem!reader

CUP OF LOVE @wonbuni

park wonbin’s parents had quite literally the last straw and cut him off. he now had to find a job all while juggling college. why did no one tell him that his long life crush worked at his new job?

nonidol!wonbin x fem!reader

YO WHAT? @xzinbdg

ʏ/ɴ ᴍᴏᴠᴇꜱ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴀᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴡᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴜᴘ ʙʏ ʟᴏᴜᴅ ᴀꜱꜱ ɢᴜɪᴛᴀʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴅᴏᴏʀ.

ʙᴀɴᴅ ɢᴜɪᴛᴀʀɪꜱᴛ!ᴡᴏɴʙɪɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

STUPID CUPID @gyumibear

after your latest forum fails miserably, you’re almost out of an extracurricular! that is, until a mysterious account going by the name “cupid” brings you just the thing you need to fix your reputation: park wonbin, radio show host and your longtime crush. with the help of cupid, wonbin suddenly falls head over heels in love with you! you’d expect for this to be a good thing right? but no! everyone’s starting to notice how strange wonbin’s acting and now it’s up to you to figure out how and if you can get wonbin back to normal before anyone finds out what you’ve done. especially because “cupid” has disappeared… stupid cupid.

campus crush!park wonbin x journalist!reader

LOVE ON THE RADIO @luvbinnies

Keeho a famous influencer wants to make his radio talk show view ratings sky rocket. So what does he do, he invites two of his kpop idol friends from school to join to do a segment with him. But he had no idea the two used to rivals back in their school days. He also had no idea them bickering for half an hour would absolutely blow up and cause fans to start shipping them.

What does he do with that? He convinces (begs) them to become permanent hosts on the show and to continue to flirt (bicker) with each other. What can go wrong?

idol!wonbin x gn!idol!reader

BOOM BOOM BASS @4doras

park wonbin x fem reader

DANCING WITH YOU @hittoki

y/n plays the violin in a prestigious youth orchestra. wonbin is a struggling artist who works for his family's music store. when y/n's bow snaps during a rigorous day of practice, she searches high and low for her favorite brand but cannot find it anywhere. she settles for the local music shop and, low and behold, they sell it. wonbin needs a girlfriend and when y/n unintentionally interrupts his argument with his parents, he takes the opportunity.

fake dating!au

HYDRANGEA LOVE @ywnzn

yn, model & owner of a well-known perfume brand, releases a new series inspired by a heartbreak she went through. completely unaware that the new rising model who was chosen to promote the series is the same person who caused the heartbreak itself, park wonbin.

ex!park wonbin x fem!reader x jung sungchan

RECONNECTING OUR LOVE @euseol

after being forced to break up because of the public, jung yn just can’t seem to let park wonbin go.

idol! park wonbin x model! jung yn

ONE CALL AWAY @100203s

childhood best friends, yn and wonbin, shared dreams and a passion for pursuing track together. wonbin suddenly moves away one day without notice, leaving YN with unspoken feelings. it isn't until YN finds herself in the debut lineup for HYBE's new girl group that the two cross paths again.

childhood best friends to lovers

idol!wonbin x trainee/idol!yn

་༘࿐ೢִֶACADEMIC COMEBACK: ⸻⸻

⸻HOW TO PASS SCHOOL IN TWO WEEKS @seosracha

you and wonbin were academic rivals: competing to get the worst grades possible. but with graduation around the corner you have to combine your 4 braincells in order to pass.

wonbin x fem!reader

personal fav

HEAL MY HEART @enhaas

after a tragic breakup, yn struggled to love herself again and believed true love just wasn’t a thing. park wonbin, a popular classmate, has been secretly admiring her for so long. after finding out what yn is going through, he is desperate to see her happy again…hopefully with him.

popular! wonbin x fem! reader

BETWEEN THE LINES @bbina

from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

park wonbin x reader

YOUR BIGGEST FAN @jaetyun

since your brother formed a band with his friends in high school, you've had a massive crush on the aloof and reserved wonbin. him never paying you mind never bothered you until they became famous, and now you have to share him with every other fangirl. now that they're on tour, it's the perfect opportunity to make wonbin realize he doesn't want to share you either.

rockstar!wonbin x fem!reader

MAGNETIC @heyarei

 it’s not easy having a crush on the most popular guy in school. For starters, almost everyone had a crush on wonbin and you’ve already established the fact that you'll never get a chance with him, as you were no special from the others in your school... or at least that’s what you believed

popular!wonbin x fem!reader

CRAZY STUPID LOVE @lostgirlinthewoods

lee y/n, a competitive swimming athlete, just wants to finish her degree as a scholar. no drama. no distractions. and certainly, no romance. park wonbin, a music prod student and the siren’s guitarist, just wants to make music. no crazy fangirls in line to date him. no insane dms from random people declaring their love for him. and certainly, no dating. imagine the shock on y/n’s face when she received a message from her brother, anton, asking “since when did you and wonbin started dating?”

guitarist!park wonbin x athlete!fem!reader

ALONE TOGETHER @bbina

taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

college!au, fluff, angst

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HONG SEUNGHAN

FEELS LIKE A THRILLER! ᯓᡣ𐭩 @hangup119

pining after hong seunghan has always felt like an unachievable reality; however, just a few months into your first year of college, it seems that the gods have finally listened to your prayers when news breaks out that your long-time crush is single once again

non-idol!seunghan + fem!reader

HE’S THE ONE 4 ME! @grlscrushing

you’re brothers best friend is definitely the one for you

hong seunghan x f!reader

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LEE SOHEE

CLOUD 9 @wonhes

after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.

(uncountable) (idiomatic) often in the phrase on cloud nine: a state of bliss, elation or happiness.

sohee x f!reader

･:*:｡･:*:･ﾟ ready player two ･:*:｡･:*:･ﾟ @wonbin-truther

sohee was a well known streamer, having grown his fanbase over covid with the game minecraft and slowly branched into other games along with sponsorships and modeling offers. he was also well known for being your number one twitter fanboy, never missing one of your posts even if fashion wasn't his greatest interest. what happens when a modeling gig brings him face to face with you?

streamer! sohee x fashion influencer! yn

APT @01zfan

sohee attends a music conservatory abroad in amesterdam. he remembers you from a night filled with drinking games that ended with you two on a couch. months later, you two finally confess on halloween night. before sohee can find out where to you are the call drops. now he's on a mission to find you before the night ends!

sohee x reader

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LEE ANTON

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET @prodbyton

living with your older brother had its perks, including easy access to his hot best friend

REWIND @rikianton

anton had to give up on his fat crush on you after you left for america halfway through high school. 4 years later, he’s in a happy relationship and he’s ready to start his 2nd year at seoul national university. little does he know, you’ve finally moved back to korea.

college student! anton x old crush! reader

USED TO THIS @myung-jaes

anton and yn are literally the epitome of childhood best friends, knowing each other from practically the day they were born with their parents being best friends upon their shared move from korea to the states. throughout the years, they’ve gone through their share of memories, rebounds, and earthquakes. despite this, they could never beat the “falling for your best friend” curse, even as they were separated with yn's move back to korea, it only worsening as anton followed in her steps. though rather than embracing their feelings, the two, with all their stubbornness, choose to bury it down, waiting for the day it all blows up.

anton x fem!reader

JOIN GAME ? @hangup119

not everyone is good at playing obby’s on roblox, and you’re no exception to this rule: after a particularly nasty encounter with another player on roblox’s altitorture, you log into twitter only to find out that the very same player who publicly dunked on your gaming skills turns out to be anton lee, a well-known streamer who also happens to be a friend of a friend. fed up with his fans bombarding your dms with teasing remarks or jealous musings, you decide to end it once and for all by appearing on his next stream with a promise to get through an obby successfully. however, you realize that the only thing you’ll be successful at is falling for anton lee instead.

streamer!anton + fem!reader

personal fav !

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[bettys-redwinesupernova]

YOU WERE, FAKING?

drew starkey x reader x obx cast

SUMMARY: the unspoken prank war between the obx cast finds a new pair in the lead when Y/N and Drew decide to pull a fainting prank.

based on this ask !! i hope you like it anon, and it’s more of a drabble than a full length one-shot so apologies !! :) i kinda wrote it with a gn!reader so it could be enjoyed by everyone, and it can be interpreted as platonic with drew or not, it’s up to you <3

WARNINGS: fake fainting, pure fluff (a teensy bit of angst), the obx cast being hilarious😭 (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 827

THIRD PERSON +

The Outer Banks cast was known for their wild pranks on each other. It had become an unspoken competition of sorts—who could pull off the most elaborate stunt? From fake snakes on set to airhorns hidden in trailers, the bar had been set high. But Drew and Y/N had been conspiring for weeks to deliver the ultimate prank: something serious enough to leave the cast reeling, yet harmless enough to laugh about afterward.

"Are you sure about this?" Drew asked, leaning against the kitchen counter in their shared rental. "You know how dramatic JD gets."

Y/N smirked, tying their sneakers. "That's exactly why it's gonna work. They've pulled worse on us."

"You're evil," Drew teased, shaking his head with a grin.

"Maybe, but you're helping me, so what does that say about you?" Y/N shot back with a wink.

Drew chuckled, tossing an arm around Y/N's shoulders. "Alright, let's do this. But if I get punched by Chase, I'm blaming you."

—

The cast was lounging around between scenes on set, laughing and swapping stories. Madelyn was scrolling through TikTok, Chase was attempting to juggle three water bottles, and JD was doing terrible impressions of John B. Everyone was relaxed—exactly the atmosphere Drew and Y/N needed.

Y/N glanced at Drew, who subtly nodded. The two had been practicing their act for days. Taking a deep breath, Y/N stood, pretending to stretch before stumbling slightly.

"Whoa, you okay?" Rudy asked, noticing the movement first.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm—" Y/N's voice faltered, and they pressed a hand to their forehead dramatically.

Drew was immediately at their side. "Hey, sit down. You don't look good," he said, his tone laced with concern.

Everyone's attention snapped to Y/N as they swayed on their feet.

"I... I think..." Y/N's eyes fluttered closed, and they collapsed, hitting the ground with a thud.

"Y/N!" Madelyn shouted, leaping to her feet.

"What the hell?" Chase yelled, rushing over.

JD dropped his phone, wide-eyed. "Oh my God, what's happening?"

Drew crouched beside Y/N, putting on his best panicked expression. "Y/N, wake up! Hey, hey, come on!" He shook their shoulders gently. "Somebody get water!"

Rudy bolted to grab a water bottle while Madelyn knelt next to Drew. "What happened? Were they feeling sick earlier?"

"I don't know," Drew lied, running a hand through his hair. "They said they were fine, but—" He cut himself off, looking utterly distraught.

"Should we call 911?" Chase asked, pulling out his phone.

"No, wait," Drew said quickly, holding up a hand. "Give them a second. They might've just fainted. Y/N?" He shook them again.

JD, visibly freaking out, was pacing back and forth. "This is bad. This is so bad. They're not waking up!"

Madelyn's voice cracked. "Y/N, please, wake up."

Y/N kept their face perfectly still, barely resisting the urge to laugh as they felt Drew's hand squeeze their shoulder—a silent signal that they were nailing it.

After a solid minute of chaos, Y/N finally cracked. Their lips twitched, and before they could stop it, a giggle escaped.

Drew immediately broke character, a grin spreading across his face. "No way," he said, laughing.

Y/N sat up, bursting into laughter. "Oh my God, you guys! You should've seen your faces!"

The cast froze, staring at the two of them in disbelief.

"Wait... what?" Madelyn blinked, still kneeling on the ground.

"You were faking?" Chase shouted, his voice an octave higher than usual.

Rudy, who had just returned with a water bottle, looked at them like they were insane. "Are you kidding me right now?"

Y/N doubled over, tears streaming down their face from laughing so hard. "You all were so scared!"

JD pointed a finger at Drew. "You were in on this? You traitor!"

"Guilty," Drew admitted, shrugging. "But come on, it was good, right?"

"No, it was not good!" Madelyn scolded, but the corner of her mouth twitched as if she were trying not to laugh.

"You guys had me ready to call 911!" Chase said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, and I thought I was about to give mouth-to-mouth!" JD added dramatically, making everyone groan.

"You wouldn't have done that," Rudy shot back.

"I might've!" JD insisted, crossing his arms.

Y/N leaned against Drew for support, still laughing. "Okay, okay, we're sorry. But admit it—we just won the prank war."

Chase huffed, crossing his arms. "You didn't win. You just... traumatised us a little."

Madelyn rolled her eyes but smiled. "Fine. You win this round. But we're coming for you."

"Oh, we'll be ready," Drew said with a smirk, pulling Y/N closer.

As the group finally began to laugh it off, JD pointed at Y/N. "You better sleep with one eye open."

"Worth it," Y/N replied with a grin, fist-bumping Drew.

The prank war had officially reached a new level.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was a bit of a silly one, and more of a drabble than a full length one-shot, but i hope you enjoy anon !! sorry this took a while, i’m trying to work through like 20 something requests XD but i’m trying my best to get most done <3

of anyone has any angst requests (w/ a happy ending) pls send them, i am in the mood for angst !!

[ms-demeanor]

Hi, this is maybe a pointless question where the answer is just "that's how life works," but how do you have energy for all the things you do? You seem to be constantly juggling 50 different projects and juggling them well. You create so many community resources, do deep scientific dives on your own time, excel at work, plus maintain social and familial relationships. I was able to maintain good work performance, a hobby, and social life for maybe six months last year before I burned out

The thing is I'm juggling it badly, it's just that you see the curated version here on tumblr! I've got probably five times as many stalled and unfinished resources/projects as I have completed ones, I am in a constant state of numbness/anxiety at work (since the new company bought us I'm really, really overworked and have been putting in 10-12 hour days pretty regularly - it's why my posting and writing here has dropped off and my fiction writing is basically not happening), and I'm actually a pretty shit friend because it's difficult for me to make time to communicate with people and leave the house.

My two tricks to make it seem like I've got it together are:

Just do a lot of shit. Some of it will get finished even if you end up with a ton of abandoned projects and if you do this at a high enough volume you can still get a lot done

Join some kind of club or regular hangout event; once a month I go hang out with the same group of people i've been hanging out with for twenty years and sometimes we'll plan things outside of that group and that's most of my social life.

I am also exhausted at all times but I've got the shark version of ADHD where I feel like if I'm not doing something I'll die.

I am probably deeply in danger of burning out but I've had the same "maybe if I get hit by a car I could take a couple weeks off of school without it destroying my life" feeling since i was 10 so it's hard for me to gauge if there's a collapse of any kind coming.

Have you ever tried to get yourself to sprint by falling forward and just putting your feet in front of yourself? It's like that, but I've managed to keep my feet under me so far. I'd say "if I had to deal with any obstacles it would make me fall flat on my face" but I'm actually more productive in catastrophes so. Who knows!

Mental illness. I think the answer is mental illness. I am not a healthy example to follow and I don't want people to think that the way that I act is A) Normal B) Healthy C) Effortless D) Sustainable.

I am just obsessive and weird and I don't sleep very much and I don't leave the house very frequently. I think things were better before the pandemic, when I was doing things with the band and could go to shows because Large Bastard wasn't immune compromised, but a lot has changed in the last five years.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Good Tidings Your Way Come

Warnings: non/dubcon, allusions to stalking, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: An old face shows up without welcome.

Character: Johnny Storm

Day Three of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - new SO at the family dinner

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You take out the pies you baked the night before and put them on the shelf, juggling around the contents of the fridge to accommodate prepped dishes. Your meticulously planned schedule is outlined on the magnetic whiteboard. The turkey is in and all else has to be timed precisely.  

As you get out the stuffed olives to put pit on the wooden board with all the cheeses and crackers, the doorbell rings. You set the jar down and wipe your hands on your apron. You huff as you hurry out of the kitchen. 

"Why are you knocking?" You call to the door, "go ahead and come on in. You know the rules. Just kick the snow off--" 

You grab the handle, even as you beckon to the expected visitor. One of a few. Maybe their hands are full. Naima is always far too ambitious. You're not quite sure where your youngest got that from. 

You blink at the figure on the other side. It isn't who you expect. Not any of your daughters. It's not anyone you would expect to see on the holiday you've been coveting all month, along with the time off. 

Johnny smiles as he hugs a cardboard box, tufts of tissue paper and bows peeking out over the top. Your face and your heart fall. How did he find you? 

"Hey, cookie, happy holidays," he winks. "Mmm," he sniffs emphatically, "smells good. You still put cranberries in your stuffing." 

You cheeks twitch. You clutch the edge of your apron and gulp, "Johnny, what are you doing here?" 

"Ah, go on, ask me how I found you? You know I hate niceties," he shoves the box towards you, "those are for the girls." 

"Girls?" You utter. 

"Naima, Marcie  and... what was it...Evelina." He recites as he jiggles the box in his arms.  

"How--" 

"Brrr, it's chilly," he steps close until the box presses to you. "Sure is coming down." 

You stare at him, stunned. You bring your arms up to take the box as he sidles in past you. That little voice that follows you from consciousness to nightmare nags in your ear. Stop him! What are you doing? 

"Just gotta warm up," he looks around the entry way as he rubs his hands together, his fingers lighting with licking flames as the air ripples with the heat. That's what you're doing. Being smart. "Too bad about the old place. Heard the landlord was pissed." 

You stare at his hands and the flames that threaten his leather jacket. He's entirely unbothered as his flesh is unaffected by the fire. He parts his hands and snaps his fingers. The flames die. 

"You know pecan's my fave. You make it this year?" 

You can't speak. One mistake. One stupid act of charity and now you're cursed. One year isn't long enough yet you don't think he'll wait so long the next tome. 

"Apple, pumpkin, and pecan," your voice creaks. 

"Mmm, delicious," he unzips his jacket slowly. "Dessert to go with..." he eyes you up and down, "dessert." 

"Please, why are you here?" 

"It's the holidays. It's a time to spend with those who matter--" 

"Johnny," you plead. 

"Don't." He snaps, "you always pulled that pathetic act, didn't you? And I spent all that time trying to comfort you only for you to ditch me--" 

"You... it was a misunderstanding. I only ever wanted a friend," you sniff. 

"I didn't. I just wanted you but I guess you thought you were too fucking good," he sneers. "Funny, seeing as the ex dumped you for that young EA of his." 

"Stop--" you say. 

"Huh, you're right. We don't need to stay hung up on old wounds. It's a time for cheer. To be together." He bends to unlace his boots. "Can't wait to meet the family." 

You watch him move his boots onto the mat. He stands straight and takes the box back. You shiver as his blue eyes stick to you. 

"How about you come back tomorrow--" 

"So you can run again? You're not getting away. Not doing this to me again." 

"I didnt--" you choke as his eyes blaze a vibrant orange. 

"This is an old house. Nice. Bet the baseboards are real oak. I mean foundation's probably concrete but not much without walls." He smirks as he meets your eye, "so, should we put these under the tree?" 

"Um, sure," you agree. 

His threats are subtle but not missed. Your daughters, your home, you. It could all be destroyed by the snap of his fingers. Literally. 

"Probably a bit awkward at first," he says as he enters the living room without invitation.  

You close the front door before you follow. You hover at the door anxiously. He bends to put down the box and unpacks each present before delicately placing them under the decorated tree. 

"I mean, the age difference might be a bit shocking," he stands up with the empty box and it flashes into cinder, falling to the floor in a pile of ash. "Should probably sweep that up, honey." 

You give him a long look. He doesn’t flinch. You leave him to get the broom and dustpan. You return as he nonchalantly paces the room. He admires the decor, toying with the ornaments on the mantel and running his finger along the hanging tinsel. A wisp of smoke wisps after the motion but no sparks fly. 

You gather up the mess on the floor and dump it in the bin. You shut away the broom and pan. Back in the living room, he admires the hung portraits of your daughters. He’s very deliberate in his examination. 

“It’s okay, you know? We’ll work through it as a family. I can only imagine it might be a little weird. To think of how you seduce me. A much younger man than you--” 

“Johnny, I get it. You don’t have to—If you just go, we can talk about this later--” 

“Talk,” he says sharply. “We did a lot of that. Talk, talk, talk,” he puppets his hand with the syllables and faces you. “Then you ran.” 

“I appreciate everything you did for me, but I wasn’t ready--” 

“It’s been over a year so are you ready now?” He snickers as he comes closer, “I mean, that’s rhetorical so...” 

Your lip quivers as he stops right in front of you. His gaze bores into you then slowly descends. He brings his hand up to run his thumb across your lower lip as he bites his own. You wince and he angles his hand to grab your chin gruffly. 

“I’ve waited longer than that. I’ve been patient.” He takes a breath and tilts his head dangerously. “I’ve known where you are. I sat and I watched. Baby, I gave you all the time you need to get past that deadbeat husband.” 

Your lashes web with unspent tears as you pout. You can feel the heat in his hand, ready to singe at his smallest whim. He pulls you toward him and you tense. His breath sizzles around you. 

He raises his other hand and the air whisks as flames jump to life around his digits. You watch them encase his flesh and the thick golden signet around his middle finger. His eyes follow yours to the spectacle of his fiery touch. He looms it closer to you and chokes a whimper for you. The air roils across your face. 

He closes his fist and the flames go out. He’s toying with you. You search his face for any hint of mercy. For any strand of the man you once believed he was. His blue eyes are icy even if his touch is searing. 

He walks you back and you yelp as he lowers his hand to grab your hip. He spins you and you catch yourself on the armchair just in front of you. He jerks you as he tugs on your jeans, the button tugging before popping out to dangle on the thread. He bares your ass as you brace the frame of the chair. 

You cry out as hot metal burns into your flesh. He presses his knuckles against your soft flesh as the ring brands a welt into your flesh. He keeps it there until your whining and writhing, his other hand still hooked around your neck. 

He pulls you back until your spine arches. He steps closer and crushes his hand between your ass and his crotch. He huffs and snarls. 

“This time, you won’t forget who you belong to,” he twists his hand so the metal burns deeper into your skin. “Now stop fucking crying. It’s a special day, we don’t need you ruining it.”

There's voices from outside. You know them well. You flick your lashes as Johnny lets you go and swipe away your tears. You can't ruin today, not for your girls.

"That's a good girl. They wouldn't wanna see mommy crying," he heads for the door. "Especially for no reason. No one likes a drama queen."

You suck back the last of your horror. It's just what needs to be done. Not just to keep yourself safe, but to keep them safe. You were wrong when you thought running would do that. 

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: Chp 5

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

In the cozy, firelit warmth of the sitting room at the River House, Rhysand, Cassian, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor gathered, their conversation initially light, but soon shifting to more serious matters. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the faces of those present. Feyre sat comfortably beside Rhys, her hand resting on his, while Nesta lounged with a cup of tea, and Mor leaned back in her chair, a curious smile playing on her lips as she sensed the shift in the conversation.

Cassian, his usual easy-going demeanour tempered by a hint of concern, spoke first. “There’s something we wanted to discuss with you, ladies. Rhys and I... well, we’ve been noticing something off with Azriel lately.”

Feyre’s brow furrowed as she looked between her mate and Cassian. “What do you mean? Is he alright?”

Rhysand leaned forward, his violet eyes serious. “It’s hard to say. He’s been more withdrawn than usual, and we think we might know why. Yesterday, when Cassian and I were out... well, let’s just say we ended up at a certain pleasure house in the Hewn City.”

Mor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, while Nesta sipped her tea, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp with interest.

“While we were there,” Cassian continued, “we met a woman—YN. She works there, and... well, there’s something about her. Something that seems connected to Azriel’s recent behaviour.”

Feyre frowned, her thoughts racing. “Connected how?”

Rhys exchanged a glance with Cassian before answering. “She mentioned she has a baby, and a boyfriend. But there was something off about the way she spoke, as if she was hiding something. And today, we overheard her talking with one of the other employees. She mentioned she’s going shopping tomorrow. It got us thinking.”

Nesta’s gaze sharpened. “You think she’s involved in whatever’s been bothering Azriel?”

“We’re not sure,” Cassian admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But something about it all doesn’t sit right. Azriel has been acting strange, and we know he’s been keeping secrets. YN might be part of that.”

Feyre’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she considered this. “You’re suggesting we keep an eye on her? Maybe follow her while she’s shopping?”

Rhys nodded. “Exactly. If we can figure out what’s going on, we might be able to help Azriel. He’s been carrying something heavy, and we need to know if she’s involved.”

Mor’s smile faded into a more serious expression. “Do you really think this woman could be a threat?”

“Not necessarily a threat,” Rhys said carefully. “But she might be the key to understanding why Azriel has been so distant. If she’s somehow involved in whatever he’s going through, it’s worth looking into.”

Nesta leaned forward, setting her teacup down with a decisive clink. “So, you want us to go to the Hewn City, shop around, and see what we can find out?”

Rhys nodded. “Exactly. It’s a perfect cover—just a day out shopping. No one would suspect anything. But keep your eyes and ears open.”

Feyre, ever protective of her family, glanced at her sister and Mor before nodding. “We can do that. We’ll go tomorrow and see what we can learn.”

Cassian grinned, his usual mischief returning. “Just try not to get into too much trouble.”

Nesta shot him a dry look. “Speak for yourself, Cassian.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence as the women considered the plan, the gravity of the situation weighing on them. But before they could delve deeper into the details, the sound of approaching footsteps made them all fall silent. The atmosphere shifted as Azriel walked into the room, his presence immediately felt by everyone.

“Evening,” Azriel greeted, his voice as calm and measured as ever, though his sharp gaze seemed to linger on Rhysand and Cassian, as if he sensed the undercurrent of tension.

“Azriel,” Rhysand greeted smoothly, masking any trace of the conversation that had just taken place. “We were just catching up. How was your day?”

Azriel studied them for a moment, his expression unreadable as always, before nodding slightly. “Productive. Any new developments?”

“Nothing worth noting,” Cassian said casually, though there was an almost imperceptible tension in his posture. “Just the usual.”

Azriel didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it slide, moving to stand by the window, his gaze distant as he looked out at the night sky. The others exchanged a brief glance, silently agreeing to keep their suspicions to themselves for now. There would be time to investigate tomorrow, and until then, they would carry on as if nothing had changed.

But as the conversation shifted to more mundane topics, each of them knew that something had shifted. Secrets were being kept—by all of them—and the truth was only growing more complicated with each passing day.

---

The next day, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor found themselves in the bustling streets of the Hewn City. Despite its dark reputation, the city was alive with activity, the market streets crowded with merchants hawking their wares, and shoppers moving between the various stalls and shops. Feyre kept her hood up, blending into the shadows cast by the tall buildings, though she still felt the weight of curious glances as they walked. She had been to the Hewn City before, but never for something as delicate as this.

As they approached the heart of the market district, Feyre felt Rhysand’s presence brush against her mind, his voice a soft whisper in her thoughts. She’s just ahead, looking at some baby clothes. You’ll recognize her by the dark hair and the buggy. Along with his words came a series of images—snapshots of YN that Rhys had seen when he and Cassian visited the pleasure house with Azriel. A woman with soft, dark hair, delicate features, and an air of quiet strength, even in the depths of the Hewn City.

“Got it,” Feyre whispered back, nodding slightly as she looked to Nesta and Mor, who were both scanning the crowd. “She’s just ahead. Let’s keep our distance.”

The three women wove their way through the crowd, carefully avoiding drawing any attention. The further they walked, the darker the shops became—both in ambiance and in merchandise. The shift was subtle, the luxury of the Hewn City marred by the unmistakable undertone of cruelty and excess. Feyre’s gaze flicked from shadowed alleyways to the opulent yet ominous storefronts, the contrast of the city always unsettling her.

Finally, they spotted YN. She was pushing a simple buggy, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a cozy sweater, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. The baby in the buggy was small, barely a few weeks old, wrapped snugly in a soft blanket. YN’s movements were slow, deliberate, as she browsed through a rack of tiny clothes, her eyes scanning the options with the intent focus of a mother lost in her thoughts.

“There she is,” Mor murmured, nodding subtly towards YN. Feyre and Nesta followed her gaze, taking in the sight of the woman who had unknowingly become a focal point of their investigation.

Feyre watched as YN reached out to touch a soft onesie, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she ran her fingers over the fabric. Her expression, though serene, carried a weight of exhaustion—something Feyre recognized all too well from her own early days with Nyx.

As YN continued to shop, the baby in the buggy began to fuss, tiny whimpers breaking the quiet air around them. YN immediately turned her attention to her child, her smile softening as she bent down to pick up the baby, cradling him against her chest. She rocked gently, her lips moving in what Feyre could only assume were soothing words.

“Is that...?” Nesta started, her voice low as she observed the interaction.

“I think so,” Feyre replied, keeping her voice just as quiet. “The baby must be hers. The one she mentioned to Cassian and Rhys.”

Mor narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched YN. “She doesn’t seem like a threat. But still... there’s something more going on here.”

Feyre nodded in agreement. YN’s demeanour, her clothing, the way she cradled her baby—none of it aligned with the typical image of someone who might be a danger or have any influence over Azriel. She seemed more like a woman trying to balance the weight of motherhood with whatever burdens life had thrown her way.

They kept their distance as YN continued to shop, picking out a few more baby items and placing them in the buggy’s basket. Her movements were unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world, though the lines of tension in her posture suggested otherwise. Feyre noted how YN would glance around occasionally, her gaze lingering on the shadows, as if expecting someone or something to emerge from them.

As they trailed behind, YN paused in front of a shop that displayed more elaborate and ornate baby clothes, clearly beyond the simple, practical items she had been selecting. The baby fussed again, a soft cry escaping his tiny lips, and YN immediately lifted him out of the buggy, holding him close as she bounced him gently in her arms.

The women watched as YN whispered to her son, the love and care evident in every movement, every soft murmur. Feyre felt a pang of empathy for the young mother—she knew all too well the fears and challenges that came with raising a child, especially in a world as dangerous as theirs. But beneath that empathy was also a growing curiosity. What was YN’s connection to Azriel? And why was she so deeply enmeshed in his recent troubles?

As YN continued her slow stroll through the market, the shadows of the Hewn City seemed to close in around her, a stark contrast to the warmth she tried to create for herself and her newborn son. She adjusted the blanket around Knox, who had finally settled against her chest, his tiny breaths warm and steady against her skin. The cool air brushed against her cheeks as she looked around, scanning the shops with a mixture of exhaustion and resignation.

She pushed the buggy with one hand while holding Knox in the other, her movements careful and deliberate. The market was as lively as ever, with vendors calling out their wares and patrons haggling for better prices. The sounds echoed through the narrow streets, but YN seemed isolated in her own world, focused entirely on her son and the tasks she had to complete.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor remained several paces behind, moving with practiced ease through the crowds, keeping YN within their line of sight. They observed her every movement—the way she delicately placed each item in the buggy’s basket, how she lingered over certain displays, and the protective way she held her son close to her heart. There was something undeniably tender about the way she interacted with Knox, a deep bond that resonated even from a distance.

“She seems so... normal,” Mor whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of the market. “Not at all what I expected.”

“Maybe that’s why she’s so dangerous,” Nesta murmured, her eyes sharp as she watched YN pick up a small, hand-knit sweater. “If she’s involved with Azriel, she’s hiding it well.”

Feyre frowned slightly, torn between her suspicions and the simple reality of what she was witnessing—a mother, caring for her child, doing what she needed to do to survive in a place as unforgiving as the Hewn City. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for spying on YN, but she reminded herself of the stakes. Azriel was one of their own, and they needed to understand what was happening to help him.

YN moved to another stall, her gaze flicking over a selection of baby blankets. She reached out to touch the fabric, her fingers lingering on a soft, blue woolen blanket that was far more luxurious than anything she had chosen so far. She held it up, considering it for a long moment before shaking her head and placing it back on the pile. It was clear that practicality outweighed indulgence in her world.

Knox stirred slightly in her arms, his tiny fist clenching around the edge of her sweater as he fussed again. YN immediately shifted him, her voice low and soothing as she murmured to him. She kissed his forehead, her expression softening as he settled back into a peaceful sleep. She glanced around the market, her gaze momentarily distant, as if lost in thought. For a moment, she seemed entirely alone, despite the crowd bustling around her.

Mor tilted her head slightly, observing the way YN seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Whatever she’s involved in, it’s taking its toll.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Feyre said softly, though she couldn’t ignore the sense of unease settling in her chest. “She might not be a threat.”

Nesta’s expression remained hard, but there was a flicker of something softer in her eyes as she watched YN finally select a plain white onesie, placing it gently in the buggy. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

YN finished her shopping, her steps slow and measured as she made her way toward the edge of the market, the buggy rolling smoothly along the cobblestone streets. Knox was still cradled in her arms, his small face tucked against her shoulder. She seemed tired—more than just physically—but she moved with the determination of someone who had long grown accustomed to the weight of her burdens.

“Let’s give her space,” Feyre whispered, signaling to Nesta and Mor to hang back as they reached the outskirts of the market. “We’ll follow up with Rhys and Cassian later.”

They slowed their pace, letting YN disappear into the shadows of the narrow street ahead. As she faded from view, Feyre couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something crucial. There was more to YN than they had seen today, more than a young mother simply trying to care for her child in a difficult world.

-

YN stood at the base of the narrow, winding steps that led up to the small apartment she shared with Azriel, cradling Knox in her arms. The cool air of the Hewn City brushed against her skin, making her shiver slightly. The streets around her were quiet, the bustle of the market now a distant memory as she and her son returned home from their shopping trip.

Knox had fallen asleep during the short walk back, his tiny body relaxed and warm against her chest. She adjusted the blanket around him, pressing a soft kiss to his downy hair. His small, steady breaths were the only sound she focused on as she stood there, momentarily lost in her thoughts.

But the unease she’d felt earlier at the market lingered, a nagging sense of being watched that she couldn’t quite shake. She had caught glimpses of figures moving just at the edge of her vision, people who seemed to linger too long as she shopped, their attention on her more than the goods on display. YN had kept her composure, acting as though she hadn’t noticed, but her instincts told her something wasn’t right.

She took a deep breath, pushing the unsettling thoughts aside as she gazed up the stairs, preparing to climb them with Knox in her arms. Just as she was about to take her first step, the flutter of wings caught her attention, and she looked up to see Azriel descending from the sky, his shadows swirling around him as he landed silently in front of her.

His eyes, usually so composed and unreadable, softened when they met hers, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her at the sight of him. Despite everything, despite the secrecy and the hidden life they shared, Azriel was her anchor.

"Azriel," she breathed, her voice a mixture of surprise and relief. She had been expecting him to be gone for longer, given the tension of the last few days.

“YN,” he greeted, his voice low and warm, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the sight of his son nestled against her. But as he stepped closer, he immediately noticed the tension in her posture, the way her eyes darted around the street as if she was still on edge. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated for a moment, glancing around again, as if expecting someone to emerge from the shadows. Finally, she met his gaze, her voice quiet but laced with concern. “I think I was being watched today. At the market. I... I could feel eyes on me, and not just in passing. It was deliberate, like someone was studying me.”

Azriel’s expression darkened instantly, the softness in his eyes replaced by a steely resolve. His shadows seemed to react to his mood, swirling more tightly around him as if preparing for a threat. “Did you see who it was?”

YN shook her head, frustration evident in the tight lines around her mouth. “No. I tried to be discreet, but whoever it was, they were good at staying out of sight. I didn’t want to draw attention by looking too hard.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched as he processed her words, his mind already racing through the possibilities. The Hewn City was full of people who could have an interest in YN, and not all of them would be friendly. The fact that someone had been watching her—someone skilled enough to remain undetected—was deeply troubling.

He stepped closer to her, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against her arm in a comforting gesture, though he kept his touch light, aware of the public space they were in. “We’ll figure out who it was. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

YN nodded, though her worry didn’t fully dissipate. She had known the risks of being with Azriel, but it didn’t make the reality of them any easier to face. She glanced down at Knox, who remained blissfully unaware in her arms, and her resolve hardened. She would do whatever it took to protect their son.

Azriel leaned in closer, his head dipping toward hers as if to whisper something, but she knew the movement was as much about shielding their interaction from any prying eyes as it was about speaking. His proximity was both a comfort and a reminder of the secrecy they were forced to maintain.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For not being able to protect you both the way I should.”

YN looked up at him, her expression softening as she reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Don’t apologize. We knew what this would be when we chose it. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”

He nodded, though the tension didn’t fully leave his features. He lowered his gaze to Knox, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch his son’s tiny hand. The baby stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his small fingers curling around Azriel’s.

“I’ll be home tonight,” he said softly, his eyes lifting to meet hers again. “We’ll talk more then.”

YN nodded, understanding the unspoken promise in his words. “I’ll be waiting.”

Azriel lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching hers as if to reassure himself that she was truly okay. Then, with one last glance around the deserted street, he stepped back, his wings flaring slightly as he prepared to take off again. YN watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid, of the life they were forced to hide in the shadows.

---

Azriel sat at his desk in the dim light of his office, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he stared at the maps and reports scattered across the surface. The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint rustling of the papers as his shadows drifted over them, their movements restless and agitated. He couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease that had settled deep in his chest since YN had told him about being watched in the market.

His thoughts were a tangle of possibilities, each more troubling than the last. The Hewn City was a treacherous place, filled with spies and informants loyal to whoever paid the highest price. If someone had been watching YN, it could mean any number of things—a rival, an enemy, or even someone trying to get to him through her. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine, a rare surge of fear that he quickly buried beneath layers of calculated resolve.

But as he sat there, letting the silence settle around him, something didn’t quite add up. Whoever had been watching YN was skilled, yes, but the timing, the precision—it felt too familiar. His instincts, honed over centuries of espionage, were telling him that this wasn’t just a random occurrence. There was something more deliberate behind it, something closer to home.

It was then that the faint sound of voices reached his ears, muffled by the thick walls of his office but distinct enough for him to catch fragments of conversation. Azriel’s shadows swirled more tightly around him as he focused on the voices outside in the hallway, recognizing the low, familiar tones of Cassian and Mor.

“…I just wanted to be sure she wasn’t a threat,” Cassian was saying, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. “It’s not like we could just ask him outright.”

Mors voice responded, tinged with a mix of concern and frustration. “I get it, but what if he finds out? You know how protective he is—especially after everything that’s happened.”

“Rhys told us to keep an eye on her,” Mor continued. “We weren’t going to hurt her, just… observe. Make sure she wasn’t involved in anything that could put him or the rest of us in danger.”

Azriel’s breath caught, realization dawning like a slow, creeping shadow.

The inner circle.

It was the inner circle who had been watching YN, trailing her through the market, spying on her every move. His fists clenched beneath the desk, a mix of anger and betrayal swirling in his chest. They had been so close to finding out—so close to uncovering the one secret he had kept from them, the one part of his life he hadn’t allowed them to touch.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain calm, to not let his emotions betray him. There was no point in confronting them—not yet, at least. If they suspected YN of being a threat, it was only because they were trying to protect him, in their own misguided way. But the thought of them tailing her, of making her feel unsafe in the one place where she should feel protected… it made his blood boil.

Azriel pushed back from the desk, rising to his feet with a quiet, controlled movement. He had to get out of here before the anger bubbling beneath his calm exterior spilled over. He needed to be with YN, to ensure her safety and shield her from any further interference. He would deal with the inner circle later.

As he stepped out of his office, the voices in the hallway fell silent. Cassian and Mor looked up as he passed by, their expressions carefully neutral, though Cassian’s brow furrowed slightly as if he could sense something was off. Azriel didn’t acknowledge them, his face an unreadable mask as he walked past, but he could feel their eyes on him, could sense the questions lingering on their tongues.

Just as he reached the main hall, he was tackled by a blur of movement, the sudden impact almost knocking him off balance. He looked down to see Nyx, Rhys’s son, grinning up at him, his small arms wrapped tightly around Azriel’s leg. A second later, Agnar, Cassian’s son, joined in, his laughter ringing through the air as he attempted to climb up Azriel’s other leg.

“Uncle Azriel!” Nyx shouted, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “We got you!”

Azriel couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he ruffled Nyx’s dark hair. “It seems you did,” he replied, his voice softer than it had been all day. Despite the turmoil in his mind, he could never resist the infectious energy of his nephews.

He lifted Agnar into his arms, the boy’s wings fluttering excitedly as he settled against Azriel’s shoulder. Nyx clung to his other side, laughing as Azriel hoisted him up as well, balancing both boys with ease.

As he carried them down the hallway, he passed Rhys, who was leaning casually against the doorway of his office, arms crossed over his chest. Rhys raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on Azriel’s unusual demeanor.

“Azriel,” Rhys called out, his tone light but laced with curiosity. “Heading somewhere?”

Azriel met his gaze, his expression carefully guarded. “I’m taking a week off,” he said simply, his voice brokering no argument.

Rhys blinked, clearly taken aback. “A week off? Are you—”

“Don’t worry,” Azriel cut him off, shifting Nyx and Agnar slightly in his arms. “Everything will be handled.” He didn’t wait for Rhys to respond before he turned and continued down the hall, his steps purposeful as he made his way out of the house.

Once outside, Azriel set the boys down, giving each of them a quick hug before sending them back to the house. He watched them run off, their laughter echoing in the air, before he spread his wings and took off into the sky.

The wind whipped through his hair as he soared above Velaris, his mind already focused on the apartment where YN and Knox were waiting. Whatever plans the inner circle had, whatever suspicions they harbored, he would not allow them to come between him and his family.

Azriel landed silently on the balcony of their apartment, the cool night air whispering through his wings as he folded them behind him. The familiar creak of the floorboards under his boots as he stepped inside was a comforting sound, grounding him in the reality he had chosen—a reality where YN and Knox were his world, even if it had to remain hidden from everyone else.

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

[appleblueberry-pie]

Yandere GF Yuki +Yandere JJK Harem

A/N: Please just read these first few sentences if this is too long for you. I intended for Yuki and reader to have some sort of dom x sub relationship. Like it runs in her blood to be at least slightly masc. I've been fantasizing about this idea for much longer than I realize. But being able to do this with a literal bad bitch at the top of the OP podium is a dream come true and a treasure. Like I don't think you guys understand, I seriously think Yuki is for the girlies. I see so much queer potential in her, it's not even a joke(hence, the photo). The Yandere Harem includes briefly mentioned Platonic Yanderes(Yuji and Nobara) and more in depth juggling of the mentions of the Romantic Yanderes(Yuki being the main, and the rest taking whatever crumbs they can take. So, Shoko, Gojo, and Nanami). I feel like this isn't going to be organized whatsoever because I usually just write whatever with no kind of order, soooo......idk.

Yuki was all you needed in a person, in your opinion. No one knew you better besides her. You knew her and she knew you. If you could, you'd stay in her arms until your muscles hurt from staying in the same position for so long, and maybe then, you'll be molded together for eternity. That's how much you love her. But of course, her infatuation with you is so much more than a slight obsession for the one you are closely connected to. Everyday when she sees you, she feels both of your spirits connecting. When you two approach each other from different sides of a room, both of your cursed energy seem to blend together like food scents combining to make one sweet aroma. Two separate things colliding so well together.

She can't even fathom the idea of you not being hers. She can't think of a moment where you'd ever leave her either. Her confidence in your devotion and love towards her continues to sooth her mind and body. And she wishes it was just the two of you on this planet, but of course, people try to break you two apart every day. She tries not to mind it, knowing how to handle these types of situations and knowing you know how to hold your own as well. But it seems like everyone loves to test her patience.

Speaking of patience, everyone can tell Gojo was quickly running out of patience that somehow still remained in his body. You two have been together for four years, why haven't you broken up yet?! Not a single one of his relationships lasted this long. Ever. But you two continue to stare at each other as if the other created the sky and water. It's supposed to be you and him doing that. Not you and her. It's not fair and he was getting mad again just staring at the two of you. He tried everything. He tried to give his best flirts with you, tried to get you alone, which worked a few times, but you stayed strong and continually told him no. Fuck, he even fought Yuki. But you found the two of them battling to the death and he'd seen you so angry, he had to step back. The way you stared at him is a face he never wanted directed at him ever again, so he stopped trying to intervene. Only sticking to the waiting game, and it was taking too long.

Nanami was better at waiting. He was better at staying in his place, staying quiet, acting innocent and holding up face. But even he wanted to step out of line to see what it takes to get you to pay attention to him. To get you into his arms. He used to bring the two of you coffee every morning when you showed up at work together, struck conversation with the both of you, spoke with Yuki more than he did with you to try and steer away possibilities that he was trying to get at you. He thought he was good at what he did. It shook him to his core, disturbed him, when he was pulled into a dark room by you-know-who and was asked of his real intentions. "What? Did you want a threesome? Trying to break us up?" She taunted him, telling him he was just like Gojo, trying everything in his power just to get at her girlfriend. Told him it was obvious when he stared from across the room, crossing his legs to hide his boner like a teenage boy. She laughed in his face and cornered him into a wall, threatening to tear out his jugular. "She likes you more than the other rats scattering around us." But he knew better than to assume that would ever be a green light to continue with his tricks. She told him to keep silent like he usually is, and he won't lose the only life he has. He gave up.

Yuki and Ieri formed an alliance. If she keeps an eye out to protect you from the horndogs that constantly surround you, she can talk with you as much as she desires(as much as Yuki allows her to). But in your eyes, Shoko is a weird case. Because you see her more than you do the rest of the men at Jujutsu Tech. And even though Yuki always tells you to watch out for Shoko, she only lets you freely hang around her more than everyone else. You assumed they spoke of something alone because Yuki almost always pulls her away to have a secret conversation about something you can't ever think up an answer for. Shoko was great to you though. Always gave you snacks, was hilarious and knew how to make you laugh. She never smoked around you, saying she doesn't want you to breathe in the flames. And not only that, she flirts with you constantly. But Yuki never seems to care much when it happens. Maybe they became friends not too long ago...? You can't put your finger on it.

It doesn't help that she likes to show you off. It really doesn't help. Often, everyone follows the both of you to get a chance to talk to you. But when she's right there as your guard dog, it brings their chances back down to a zero. And they would just push her away and bribe someone to just throw her in the ditch, but Yuki isn't just a regular shmegular person to fuck around with. She is, in fact, a special grade sorcerer who would fold a good 85% of the sorcerers in her area if she were pushed to do so. So, you are just a beauty to see from afar.

Complimenting your cute outfit before the two of you go somewhere in town, making you spin, squeezing your ass and making you laugh. Kissing your sweet lips and being able to breathe in your scent. They see it all and can't help but fucking fume at not being able to have you. They probably won't ever have you.

Yuki also wishes you'd stop talking to the brats that constantly berate you. Nobara and Yuji are constantly in your space like little puppies excited to see their owner after a long day. Nobara will whine excessively if you are about to be pulled away, or is pulled away. You love to give her hugs and even little gifts that you know she's wanted for a long time. Yuuji consumes every snack you give him in exactly one second, and you tell him every time to please chew it slowly(he never does). He has such convincing puppy eyes and requires you to stay with him for an extra three minutes, which for each minute, Yuki plans to threaten him to leave you alone(they almost fight every time). You treat those two as if they were your children and people can't help but feel extremely jealous every time. Of course you give the younger ones affection, of course they get your snacks, attention and loving. And of course they get the OK to do it because they're young. It makes everyone else sick to their stomach with anger.

Her biggest concern right now is you're telling her about your new friend you've made(that she can't find and stalk for some reason). You say he has long and healthy hair, is very sweet to you and you two talk about religion all of the time and that he has very interesting "political" views. She knows he's a sorcerer because she can smell it on you every time you come back from an outing alone. She knows that this asshole wants you and makes it known by bringing you back to her smelling completely different and she can see his lingering energy surrounding you. It pisses her off. She's definitely gonna have to do something about it.

Anyways. Yuki has it best, obviously. Her only goal is to get you out of sorcery and to just become hers full-time. Not like you need anything else to worry about besides her. I mean, she could just provide for you entirely. She tells you every day that you're lucky that she doesn't have a real dick, because things would definitely be different if so. It makes you squirm happily and she loves teasing you about it every time with her wolfish grin. She knows she'd get some soon if she says it with that playful and hungry tone you love.

[whimsical-mistakes]

i hate it when pandora is made out to be super mature and someone who 'wouldn't hurt a fly'. like no. the woman literally blew herself up, she is not responsible.

anyways here is how i interpret her

she has really bad grades but shes extremely smart. unlike regulus, pandora only really pays attention if the topic interests her. she doesn't care about the draught of living death but she does care about amortentia so in the exam, despite not remembering actually writing anything down or taking notes, she can list every trait and ingredient of it but then when there a question about living draught her mind goes fully blank.

and honestly i think she knows that grades aren't everything and what some silly test on paper shows nothing about her actual skills (and i think she would've ingrained that in luna too)

she is not a ravenclaw. im sorry but i dont think that pandora fits within that house. as we know, ravenclaws like to seek knowledge but i dont think pandora does - i think she loves the unknown (likely due to being a seer and having the curse of knowing too much) and she will only seek out knowledge only if she has to

she is a slytherin that doesnt intentionaly break the rules like barty. she just doesnt understand why there are so many stupid rules in place when there are way better ways she could get things done.

she is NOT a planner - if you ask her to do something she'll just shrug and give you the most ominous response known to man

she knew remus was a werewolf. - she has 0 evidence to back this theory like at all. she just had a feeling.

she has zero sense of danger.

'regulus i think your being paranoid. how could me going outside for a late night walk to investigate the loud howling on a full moon be dangerous? you cant die at hogwarts'

she purposefully messes with barty by pretending that she saw something about his future and making him believe it. and he falls for it every. single. time.

'barty!' 'what' 'be careful on your way to care of magical creatures.' 'what why?' 'PROMISE ME BARTY' 'dora. did you see something' *slow nodding*

barty was paranoid for the rest of the day

she has 5 bajillion hobbies (sewing, baking, juggling ect.)

everyone in the friendgroup is slightly afraid of her - they all feel like shes capable of things that no one should be capable of

she steals potion ingredients from slughorn and lets the marauders get the blame

(which they take because at this point they cant even remember what they did and didn't do)

she took care of magical creature

evan and pandoras parents are split.

evan lives with his dad, dads shiny new wife and little brother (i am gonna go into depth about this household in my evan characterisation)

their mum managed to get out and took pandora with her - mr. rosier pays them money to act like they don''t exist and that's exactly what they do

her mum is a healer who works super hard and is often exhausted but is kind and lets pandora explore the things she wants

evan and pandora were separated when they were four and couldn't get back in contact but when they went to hogwarts they immediately rekindled their relationship

pandora is increadibly emotionally intelligent and loves observing people and theyre mannerisms - she sees how tense dorcas gets whenever anyone talks badly about gryffindors and how regulus sneaks glaces at the gryffindor table when nobodys looking, she even noticed wolfstar first

but she will take all of this to her grave.

she doesnt feel the need to share it like gossip or even to confront the people its about. she just enjoys knowing and allowing the world to unfold around her.

she has a little box of things that she collects that she just loves

she can read taro and loves watching people reactions to each card

she also loves being a absolute menace and making up the most random shit for people

'aahh yes this card mean you shall be blessed with the spirit of a pelican and the vitality of a platypus' 'ooooh- wait what?' 'shhhh let the cards speak to you'

in history of magic, her and regulus' favorite thing to do is write little flirty notes and put them in the bags of people that they ships bag as if theyre from eachother - this is how rosekiller finally confessed confirmed.

she LOVES matching hair with evan

shes super protective over regulus

not one person in the school hates her. they just don't.

edit:

when it comes to her moral compass - i dont think its very strong. thats not to say she cant tell the difference but i think her empathy gets in the way of her being able to decide if something is right or wrong. i think that when her friends joined the deatheater she was heartbroken but she couldn't just cut them off the way dorcas could because she could see why they did despite her thinking it was a horrible thing to do - i think thats why she never joined the order, she stayed neutral but still showed her view through the quibbler (supporting the order). i think she knew there was the chance she would have to go up against barty, evan or reg and she knew that she would never be able to.

(i hope i didnt offend anyone with the intro or my opinions - at the end of the day its a fandom and theres no 'set' traits of the characters)

i am gonna continue to add to this when i have another headcannon to add xx

tags with no pressure (my fav blogs)

@crescenthistory @unconventional-lawnchair @thatdammchickennugget @fear-less @adalitas-coffeebreak-corner @g1rld1ary @rainydayathogwarts @sun-kissy

[justwinginglife]

The Waiting Game

The line between friends and lovers is dangerously thin and Soshiro Hoshina likes to fucking cartwheel down that tightrope like it's his personal plaything.

Any stranger walking by could see he was clearly checking you out, but if asked, he'd simply shrug and say something about how it was his duty as your friend to make sure your fly was zipped or your socks were matching. He never thought to make himself less obvious as he took in the sight of your shirt that dangled just a little too low or your pants that hugged your curves just a little too tight. He didn't have to. If you claimed to notice his wandering gaze, you'd be setting yourself up for a witty rebuttal. He might say, "Oh, look who's paying so much attention to me, if I didn't know better, I'd say you liked me," or even, "Don't go telling me you didn't wear those clothes on purpose, we both know the truth." He had all sorts of banter at the ready, quips locked and loaded. He wanted to corner you, to checkmate you, to coax a confession from your supple lips. Of course he loved you. But it was much more fun to make you admit you loved him too.

And you did. You wore that shirt on purpose, you wore those pants on purpose. You bent over in those pants on purpose. But two could play at this game, and you were awfully good at chess.

If he was a tightrope walker, you were a sword swallower. You could take anything he'd throw at you, gulp it down, lick your lips, and have room for seconds. Maybe throw in a burp for good measure.

So the circus act continued, both of you juggling offense and defense, both of you thinking yourself the lion tamer. It was anyone's guess at this point, who would cave in first.

You pictured the two of you on your deathbeds, your hands wrinkled with age, still trying to wring a confession from each other's throats. It was honestly a terrifying notion, thinking that eighty years from now, your feelings might accompany you to the grave, unvoiced, unreciprocated. But it hadn't been eighty years yet, it had only been one, and your pride was still in prime condition, even despite Soshiro's attempts to wear it down.

When he bragged to you about his hot date, eager for your reaction, you simply pointed him to your favorite flower shop and told him what to buy her. When he ended up not going through with it because some mysterious illness overtook him, an illness that only lasted the length of what would have been the date, you simply smirked and remarked on how convenient it was that his condition was so particular. He had shrugged, saying, "Maybe I was allergic to her, who knows?" You had laughed and he had smiled. Then you both went about your usual day, stealing time from each other whenever you could, sneaking glances, subtly inching closer, the distance both an inch and a galaxy apart.

The gap only widened when Captain Ashiro relayed to the Third Division news of the Winter Ball. It was like prom for soldiers, and when you heard the announcement, you felt like you were right back in high school- everything infamously familiar, right down to the nerves that threatened to swallow you whole.

You could always pull the, "You're single, I'm single, let's go as friends," card. But you weren't sure that either of you would be content with that resolution. Neither one of you wanted to resign yourselves to a night of awkwardly sitting at a side table, using small talk to fill the simmering silence, as you watched other couples slow dance their way into oblivion.

But unfortunately for the both of you, rather than declare a draw, your little game with each other continued, even as the event drew nearer. You'd ask him who he was going with, feigning nonchalance, and he'd dodge the question, feigning ignorance.

At some point, you bought yourself a dress, though you had no idea why. There was only a week to go, and still, no one had asked you for the pleasure of your company on that night, not even him. You weren't sure you should even go. But still, you let your hopes drape from a hanger in your closet, in case maybe he decided to overturn the chessboard, throw the match, ask you out.

Narumi beat him to the punch.

When you asked him why he was asking you so late in the game, he merely shrugged, saying he hadn't realized the ball was happening in the first place, but now he knew and he wanted you.

Soshiro had caught wind of it.

He ignored you until an hour before the dance.

He knew you liked to hide on the roof when you got nervous, and as he climbed the stairs to the top, he begged you to be there. He hoped you were having second thoughts about going with Narumi. He hoped you were pacing in your dress, waiting for him to whisk you away, because he was ready to whisk you away. He had dragged his feet through this whole fucking charade, and now he suddenly found his own pace too exceedingly, disgustingly slow for his liking.

When he got to the roof, all that awaited him was a cold breeze and the night sky. He collapsed on the floor, leaning back to take in all the stars. He didn't care anymore if he got his suit dirty, he only wore it for you anyway. His finger traced patterns of constellations as the white of his breath stained the air. He wished on every single star that he could see you tonight, all dressed up and gorgeous. He didn't have to see you to know you looked stunning. But he had planned to go home after he finished this sulking session. He didn't want to see how happy you looked with Narumi. Of all the people, why did it have to be him? The idea of you with anyone else but him made him ache, but the idea of you with Narumi made him want to tie a noose around his neck.

Another half hour of brooding later, he decided he needed to go home. That, or freeze to death, which would serve him right. But he turned towards the door and suddenly, there you were, his light in the dark, his warmth in the cold. And you were dazzling. He knew you would be. You always were, no matter what you were wearing.

"Y-you're here."

You nodded. "I'm here. And you're here. Why are you here?"

He pulled his jacket tighter around him. "This is your spot."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is. Were you looking for me?" You tried to keep the hopefulness out of your voice, but it seeped into the frosty air all the same.

He fidgeted with his cufflinks, nodding slowly.

You began walking over to him, and he knew you were going to sit down so he quickly took his jacket off for you to sit on. He didn't want to ruin your dress.

You shook your head at him. "You look freezing, put your jacket back on. How long have you been out here anyway?" You threw his jacket back around his shoulders, plopping down next to him, unbothered by your dress.

He blushed and looked away. "That's not important."

The silence resumed.

"It's your favorite color." You blurted out suddenly, desperate to fill the air with something, with anything.

He immediately knew you meant your dress. He had noticed. "It's nice."

You coughed.

He chuckled. "Alright, it's more than nice. You look breathtaking. Seriously, I'm having trouble breathing with you so close to me." He teased as he nudged you with his shoulder, trying to make light of the awkward situation.

"You don't look so bad yourself. Even for someone who's half frozen to death. So why were you looking for me?"

He bit his lip. "Had a, uh, question... for you."

You settled your head on his shoulder and you felt him tense up. "And what's this question of yours that's so important you almost gave yourself frostbite?"

"Will you.... will you go to the dance with me?" He held his breath as the words left his mouth.

You laughed. "Little late, don't you think? We're about a half hour away from it."

He groaned. "I know, I know. But don't go with Narumi. Please don't. He wouldn't know romance if it shit in his lap. He doesn't know how to treat a woman."

You smirked. "And you do?"

He looked at you properly for the first time that night, his gaze locked on yours with a sudden sense of determination. "Yes, I do. If that woman is you. I know everything about you. I have to. Knowing you is the second greatest pleasure of my life."

"And..." The words caught in your throat, "And what's the first?"

"Loving you."

Your heart soared in your chest. "I love you too."

"So will you be my date to the dance? And the rest of my life?"

You kissed him in response.

Suddenly the cold faded from your bodies, the frigid air rescinding itself from your lungs, as your warmth intermingled in a display of passion.

"So, what should I call this, checkmate?" You teased him as you pulled away from his lips, leaving him wanting more.

He rolled his eyes but nothing could make him less smitten than he was right now. "I call this me throwing the match."

"Well, better late than never, baby."

You kissed him again.

And then the both of you danced the rest of the night into oblivion together.