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#[ whoo boy this is a long one ]

seas-of-silver · 10 months

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Marinette wiped sweat off her sunburnt forehead and scratched at the mosquito bites dotting her arms before once again internally cursing herself for letting Chat drag her on this stupid camping trip. As much as she loved the wonders of nature, she was a city girl at heart! She would spend her hot evenings in her room with fans on, not hiking up a never-ending hill. She preferred doing her business in a toilet rather than a hole in the ground. She liked being in the safety and comfort of your home, and not in the wild with all these god. damn. mosquitos!

She slapped her arm. She missed.

'Come on, Marinette!' Chat chirped joyfully. 'We're almost there!'

She huffed, readjusting her backpack. He was much too excited for her right now.

It was his excitement in the first place that got her into this mess. She had just been watering her balcony garden one afternoon when she spotted Chat bounding across rooftops over to her like a puppy that hadn't seen its owner all day.

'Marinette!' he had cried out, eyes agleam and grin wide. 'I have the most awesome idea!'

He had bounced on the balls of his feet as he gushed all about his idea about going camping - he had heard tales from his friends and wanted desperately to experience the activity for himself, but didn't want to go alone. He had made it sound fun, she'd admit, and any hesitation she felt in that moment evaporated when she saw the look in his eyes. While they glittered with wonder and enthusiasm, his eyes pleaded with her, conveying a longing and vulnerability that had the words spill from her mouth before she realised she had made a decision.

'I'll go with you.'

Chat's mouth had softly dropped open in surprise before grinning impossibly wide and sweeping her up a hug, twirling her around as he thanked her a thousand times over.

'You won't regret this!' he had promised her, practically vibrating with glee.

She slapped her other arm as she trudged through the dirt behind him as they weaved between the trees. She missed again.

When he had talked of camping, she had imagined going to a camp-friendly park in Paris, setting up a tent and having a picnic - after all, that was the type of camping she and her family did when she was little, and nothing Chat said disagreed with that image. She should've questioned harder as Ladybug when he begged her for the Horse Miraculous for "a very important mission" he had to do. She saw right through his flimsy excuse, not that she let him know it, and gave him Kaalki's glasses with the provisos that he take very good care of the Miraculous and kwami, and that should there be an akuma in Paris that he return immediately - conditions he accepted easily.

She thought he was going to stay within the country - how was she supposed to know he'd take Marinette to Australia?! She wasn't prepared for Australia! There were crocodiles and snakes and spiders and-

Slap!

-mosquitoes in Australia! This was a country famous for its dangerous wildlife - just look at the dingos!

'Chat, when you say "a little longer"-' she began.

'We're just here!' he confirmed brightly as he turned to face her, before turning sheepish. 'Um, well, I had to make the booking under my name... so, uh...'

He looked behind him, and she followed his gaze to the kiosk at the front of what she supposed were the camping grounds. She looked at the sign, and couldn't decide if she found "Mystery Bay" a fun name for a bay or an ominous one. Suddenly, it made more sense as to why Chat suggested she pack swimmers, not that she could quite see the bay from where they stood... which reminded her of their current conundrum.

'Um, I'll put my sunglasses on and close my eyes,' she suggested. 'You detransform and guide me where we need to go. When you see an opportunity, transform back.'

'What about when I give my name to the counter?' he asked.

Marinette paused. 'I'll put my headphones on and play music, so I don't hear it, and after you've finished there, tap my shoulder and I'll take them out so I can hear you again.'

'Sounds good to me!' he agreed, and she got to work.

Soon, her headphones were in and playing a playlist of Nino's music, her sunglasses were on with her eyes screwed shut, and her hands were holding firmly onto his arm. Even so, she almost ruined the plan when she felt the magic wash over her as he detransformed, making her skin tingle. All at once, she was acutely aware of how vulnerable he was, and how much he trusted her. She held him a little closer.

The wait was agonising. The music did little to soothe her nerves... especially when she could continue to feel those pesky bugs making her skin itch. Eventually, he tapped her shoulder.

'Hey, Marinette,' he said as she removed her headphones, 'everything is sorted. Ready?'

'Su-' she cut herself off as she slapped her arm again, and tsked when she missed.

'Ah, you being bitten by the mozzies, eh?' the man behind the counter asked her in English. Assuming "mozzies" were mosquitoes, she nodded. 'Here - spray some Aeroguard on ya, but I recommend you get some for yourself the next time you go past Woolies.'

She cautiously opened her eyes, studiously ignoring Chat's form next to her as she looked at the object in the man's hand, some blue can... a bug spray? She cautiously sprayed it on her arm.

'Don't be shy,' the man encouraged kindly, 'just spray it on - you too, mate,' he added to Chat next to her.

She was relieved the man didn't use her companion's name. Wanting to avoid any more close calls, she sprayed herself all over before blindly handing the can to Chat, closing her eyes again as soon as she held his arm again, feeling the fabric of his shirt against her skin. Her heart was pounding...and they hadn't even started camping yet.

She heard the can stop spraying and the man wishing them a great stay, before Chat started leading her down a path.

'Did you...see me?' he asked quietly.

'No,' she confirmed, 'I'm just glad he didn't say your name after I took out my headphones.'

He gave a light chuckle and she felt him relax. 'Me too.'

After a moment of walking, they came to a stop.

'This looks like a good spot to set up,' he declared. 'There's a toilet over there behind us, so I'll go in there and transform, okay?'

'Okay.'

When she heard his footsteps fade away, she opened her eyes. The afternoon sun was filtering through the trees and ocean glistened with distant sounds of waves gently crashing against the shore. It was rustic and had an understated beauty.

'So!' Chat said as he jogged back to her, suited back up. 'What do you think?'

'It looks great, Kitty,' she told him, and his chest puffed up with praise. 'Ready to set up camp?'

'Ready!' he replied, tail swishing in delight.

They got camp set up... eventually. They had some missteps, and at one point Chat was completely entangled in the tent as they were setting it up, making them laugh at the ludicrous situation. Photos on baton and mobile alike captured silly moments, pretty landscapes and happy selfies. They got some funny looks from the other campers at Chat's attire, but Chat played it off as him losing a bet, and the weird looks turned into fond head shakes and warm smiles.

As the sun began set, Marinette opened the large insulated bag her parents helped her prep for the trip. After the kerfuffle that was Weredad, the superhero was a frequent visitor to the Dupain-Cheng household, even joining in on family game nights when he was able. Her parents treated him like any other friend of hers, and Chat, in turn, warmed up to them immensely. So, when they told her parents about the camping trip idea, her parents were all for it, and helped Chat organise and plan it, since he wanted to take the lead on it. It seemed that her parents knew them well enough to know neither of them would know how to start a fire to cook things, as the insulated bag was full of sandwich ingredients, an assortment of their favourite pastries and sweets, cutlery, water, and two thermoses with warm soup. They chatted as they ate, happily talking about everything and nothing as the sky burnt a brilliant orange.

Once their hunger was sated, they packed their belongings away into their tent and went to explore the nearby beach. Marinette slipped off her shoes and socks as she walked along the sand, with Chat commenting that he was glad his suit didn't let the sand wiggle in. Their lighthearted and jovial banter gradually transitioned into a gentle contentedness, conversations becoming more heartfelt, deep and meaningful.

Marinette wasn't quite sure when exactly it was when the sun set, only realising how dark it had become when Chat suggested they lay down to stargaze. She agreed to his suggestion, settling herself down on the sand as he did the same next to her. They would occasionally "stargaze" at home on her balcony, making up stories of what they might be able to see if it weren't for the light pollution hiding the stars from their view.

'Oh wow,' she gasped.

This was nothing like stargazing at home! There were stars! Real stars! Thousands and thousands and thousands of them twinkling brightly in the night sky like diamonds and glitter scattered beautifully on navy velvet. The sky was painted with deep blues and purples as the stars shined white and gold; colours she never associated with the sky after dark.

'Do you like it?'

Marinette turned her head to look at Chat, who was smiling warmly at her.

'Kitty, this- this is gorgeous!' she gushed, looking back up at the sparkling heavens. 'I... I have no words for how beautiful this is.'

'I'm glad you like it,' he said softly. 'I know that you came on this trip because I wanted you to, so I wanted to give you something, too. That's why I chose this place. Nat- uh, I heard from someone I know that she had gone camping here one time and was in awe of the view... well, that, and that apparently there's a cave somewhere here that if you throw rocks at it, the rocks will spark and it looks really cool?'

She couldn't help but laugh. Of course that would be a factor in Chat's decision-making.

'Well, I love it,' she told him, looking at him as she reached out and held his hand. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome, Marinette.'

They lay there for a while; seconds, minutes, hours... she wasn't sure. Marinette was enraptured by the stunning view, discovering something new with every second that passed. She wanted to commit it all to memory - she was inspired and was being filled with so many ideas that she was desperate to retain until she could put them all on paper.

Eventually, she sat up and looked over at Chat, who gazed up at her with a languid smile.

'Wanna go throw rocks at that cave?'

He jumped up with a burst of energy. 'Totally!'

~/~

Ask game: Give me the first sentence and I'll write a short piece for it!

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burst-of-iridescent · 2 years

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why the crystal catacombs scene is a zutara moment

i think what makes the scene in the crystal catacombs feel so natural despite the fact that zuko and katara only interacted once beforehand in book 2 is because it feels so true to the characters and where they are at this point in their story.

zuko would not have opened up to katara had his arc in book 2 not significantly featured his mother and her influence on him, which naturally made him think of her and empathize with katara when she talked about kya’s death. katara would not have entertained the possibility of someone from the fire nation actually turning out to be good unless her development in the first two books had begun to change her childhood mindset of the fire nation being the sole evil, and everyone else being good. zuko wouldn’t have told katara about his conflict over his destiny, or even considered changing it, unless he had just had his spiritual awakening, and seen for himself that he had a chance at a normal life. katara would not have then offered him her spirit water unless she was the kind of person who was incredibly compassionate and empathetic, to an almost unbelievable extent.

not only does the scene the scene stay true to zuko and katara and who they are at this point in their arcs, it also could not have happened with anyone else other than zuko and katara, and who they are at this point in their arcs. katara is the only member of team avatar who had the ability and willingness to heal zuko, the shared trauma to connect with him, and a past that allowed him to see her as an equal, but not an enemy (as aang was). zuko is the only person katara would have yelled at, who would have allowed her to vent her feelings on him, and who would have been able to reach her in her moment of grief because he had felt the same grief.

neither kat.aang’s nor mai.ko’s romantic moments in the show are tailored to the characters who experience it in the same way. any two people could have kissed in the cave of two lovers, or danced together in a party, or cuddled before a sunset, but only zuko and katara’s unique personalities, experiences and similarities could’ve come together in just the right way to make the moment in the catacombs work.

and that is why so many people still consider it as one of the most romantic scenes of the show, and one of the best zutara scenes overall, to this day.

#zutara #zutara meta #whoo boy it's been a long time since i wrote meta #anyway the crystal catacombs scene is genuinely one of my favourites in the whole show #it's just so well done and makes so much sense for their characters #and it's one of the most beautiful and emotionally intimate scenes in atla #anyway it deserves more love #also the romantic coding plastered allll over it cough cough

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involuntaryspy · 8 months

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STARFIELD

Growing up in the United Colonies as a LIST family, James Buchannan "Bucky" Barnes had a fairly happy life. His mother passed when he and his sister were young, and his father struggled to raise them for years with Bucky's tendency for trouble making. Being a reserve Vanguard trainer, Bucky's father would frequently visit New Atlantis to assist in the training programs. It was on one such trip that Bucky's father died. The following years caused a lot of change for Bucky--his sister chose to stay with friends of the family, while Bucky himself chose to be a ward of the state, staying in New Atlantis with the other service members of the Vanguard. As he got older, Bucky had every intention of joining the Vanguard. He eventually got to join on his 16th birthday, and got partnered with Captain Rogers--and what a pair they were. They made names for themselves during the Colony Wars as champions for the UC.

It may have been war, but things were going well for Bucky and Steve up until their last mission. Sent to retrieve a stolen prototype ship, the pair were expecting some sort of Freestar Collective scheme at play. Instead, they ran into Eclipse. Tortured and held hostage, when Steve and Bucky finally managed to break free, the ship was rigged to grav jump right into the heart of the UC fleet and explode. While they managed to mess with the controls, there wasn't enough time for both to escape--Steve managed to get free, but Bucky stayed behind.

All the world thought Bucky Barnes died that day, the ship exploding in the vast expanse of space. The reality? Bucky managed to grav jump into an empty part of space, close off parts of the ship, and isolate the explosion. The good? He survived. The bad? He was dead in the water, with no way to get back home.

A MAST ship stumbled upon the wreckage, where, to their surprised, a barely living war hero was found. A barely living war hero with renowned skills that the universe already had presumed dead. One that, upon waking, had no memory of who he was or how he'd gotten where he'd gotten. A perfect specimen for their cybernetics research.

A long series of years passed--the Colony Wars ended, an uneasy peace was brokered, and a certain agent began to gain infamy. Dubbed The Winter Soldier, there was quite a bit of rumor about this agent--a slew of activity, then silence for years, all sorts of missions big or small. Pirates and gangs were just as afraid as those government personnel in the information business.

The truth? Bucky had become The Winter Soldier. And after years of missions, cryosleep, and brainwashing, he broke free. The fallout was... messy. And his recovery is a full journey. But the Winter Soldier these days has a rep for hunting criminals--and in some dark, desperate corners of the universe, helping people start a new life.

#[ verse ] starfield.#[ rp ] verse info.#[ whoo boy this is a long one ]#[ but i needed to put the deets somewhere ]#[ spoilers ] starfield.#[ no real spoilers here i think just a precautionary tag ]

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shiroi---kumo · 2 years

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quotes that broke me starters || Accepting

[ @kazeofthemagun] "Tears will not wash away the sorrow."

If there was anything about their other’s culture they could not begin to understand it was emotions. Even living in the man’s presence for so long - it was the one thing they never seemed to be able to process was the way their counter handled emotions. The prince can’t say he ever really remembers seeing the other man cry. It’s not something that ever really occurred.

The same with smiling, laughing, joking, teasing, grinning, giggling, snickering, chuckling, smirking, or even just a playful nod.

To say that Black Wind was stoic a massive understatement of the word. If anything he was more apathetic than stoic. Sometimes he wondered if Black Wind still felt the same emotions as living beings because the man next to never cracked so who was he to speak on the subject of what tears were meant to do?

Misterica embraced all things creative. Misterica embraced the arts and believed that they needed to do whatever they could to have their best lives possible before their bodies perished and they returned to the sky and nature to be one with the Celestial Mother once more. So in turn they embraced themselves. They embraced themselves as the weird and quirky beings they were. They embraced themselves the way the Celestial Mother made them and with that they embraced their emotions. Their emotions spoke of the lives they were gifted by Lady Tiamat and it would be shameful to ignore a gift so precious that was given them.

The prince finds his eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the sapphire that is glancing in his direction and he’s sure this is another discussion on the fact that the swordsman has become a little more liberal with his emotions in recent days. Another discussion on how the Light’s Unlimited has developed a habit of waking with a tear stained face.

Quite frankly he’s not much in the mood for such conversations. If his counter is good at any one task - one task that he seems to excel at above all others it’s nitpicking. Nitpicking his entire existence.

“Then you fail to understand what the purpose of tears even is. To which I find that both surprising and expected. For someone who seems to keep every emotion in his body in a chokehold excluding his rage I suppose it makes sense that you would fail to understand the concept of catharsis.

Tears are not meant to wash things away. They are there to release. Tears are there to help release the emotions one has been holding on to. Tears are there to reflect one’s emotional state be that state negative or positive. There is an inherent thought process that tears are negative and they are a sign of weakness.

And I know Black Wind I know, - The Blade does not weep under the heat of the forge - but we are not blades. We are not cast metal and we are not forged. Neither of us were. We are not weapons. We are living breathing beings with heartbeats and souls. We are god barring vessels and through us those gods continue to live.

Tears are not weakness. Tears are a sign that one has held onto something for too long and they require help. I do not look down on the concept of help. Needing help is not weakness either. I have bended and molded myself to fit the space others wanted me to set in for too long. If I am to live for millennia then I will at least do so being myself.

No matter how much I cry, it will never wash this grief away. I know that, but at the very least I’m going to let myself feel it because I’ll just keep drowning in it if I don’t.”

#meme || Starters that Broke me #ask || inquires of the cloud #kazeofthemagun #tw; long post #// whoo boy that sat him off #// you know how obsessive he is about word choice #// and he HATES that one

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depravitycentral · 5 months

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Enji Todoroki General Yandere Profile

Yandere! Enji Todoroki x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, power imbalances, financial trapping, mentions of physical/domestic abuse, mentions of non-con, sexist undertones, Enji wants you to be his cute little housewife, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, a few mentions of making sure you eat enough/food, Enji is patronizing whoo boy, he makes you share a toothbrush and yes he's weird about it, this is set in a divergent timeline where Enji and Rei are formally divorced and his relationship with his family is loose and not super tight, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Kind

Enji is, simply, harsh.

His quirk, his mannerisms, his attitude, his everything, really, is a bit rough around the edges, forming a man with only enough self control to get what he wants. He’s lived his whole life bitterly, constantly jealous, constantly wanting, willing to throw everything away in order to achieve his goals.

And once everything starts caving in around him, his family and career both taking unexpected turns, Enji finds himself so, so painfully alone. He doesn’t pretend to delude himself into thinking he’s not deserving of his fate, but this places him into a position where he shoulders the guilt while desperately trying to find any outlet to forget it.

And this is where a darling who is kind comes into play – he needs someone who won’t judge him for his past. He needs someone who doesn’t treat him like scum, who is still polite and empathetic to him and his emotions. A darling who is able to consistently praise him will have him smitten quickly, growing emotionally dependent on hearing their sweet words in order to function, in order to not let the depression and stress get the better of him.

And even once his obsession has formed and he’s deep in the depth of his infatuation, a darling who is just too kind to kick him to the curbside is absolutely essential for him – they must be doting and caring, helping rebuild his shattered confidence and psyche, and with every compliment they dish out, Enji vows that he’ll return the sentiment tenfold, in his own way of course.

(This means buying his darling millions of yen worth of their favorite things, all kinds of wonderful gifts that he hopes will sway them in his favor, that will get them drooling over him and all that he can provide for them.)

Hardworking

Although he’s in a mental state that leaves him much more susceptible to finding a partner once he divorces Rei, Enji is still a picky man. He won’t fall for just anyone – no, they must fit his standard, be acceptable and meet the rather long and detailed checklist he has for those he considers as potential romantic partners.

And near the top of this list is determination. He’s a man motivated by his own goals and is willing to stop at nothing to achieve them – and so, a darling that can at least somewhat match this aspect of his personality is critical.

He has no patience for a darling that gives up easily; he wants someone that’s willing to put in the effort to see it pay off, someone who understands the concept of self-discipline and holding yourself to certain moral standards.

He finds it wildly attractive when someone has strong character, and his interest would immediately be piqued with a darling who brings an attitude of perseverance and hard work into every aspect of their life, be it work, their hobbies, their relationship, and everything in between.

He wants someone who is perhaps not quite as stubborn as him, but is still serious in their goals.

(He hopes that one day, making him happy and pleasing him will be one of these goals – just as pleasing his darling is one of his own. And he’s more than happyto please them in whatever way they so desire. More than happy.)

Motherly

Because he views his darling as the perfect wife, his darling absolutely must possess at least somewhat of a motherly air about them. He likes the idea of having a nurturing partner, if only because he finds it endearing when they care for others.

As a hero he shares this sentiment, and although it may sometimes be overshadowed by his need to become the best, deep down inside he does very much wish to help others – his methodology is just a little more violent, a little more overt.

His darling, by contrast, should prefer a methodology that’s much gentler, something that focuses more on making others feel safe and heard and cared for.

Besides, Enji very much desires to have children with his darling; to build a second family, one that he’ll care for and nourish much better than his first. And so, if his darling is to be a good mother, they must embody these traits.

Besides, although he doesn’t fall for his darling because of his fantasies of making them a mother, once the feelings are formed these daydreams only further his feelings, deepening his obsession because oh, he’d give absolutely anything to see them pregnant with his child, carrying his seed, creating something that symbolizes the love and dedication between them.

And so, his darling needs to be someone who naturally takes care of others – and in return, Enji will take care of them. Just how it should be.

Pushover

This trait is a bit less crucial compared to the others, but it’s still most definitely a positive from Enji’s perspective.

Of course he likes a darling who has strong opinions and stands up for them, but he loves a darling that will let him guide them through any hard decisions, or really any decisions at all.

Although he’s not as outright controlling with his darling, he still very much feels that he wears the pants in the ‘relationship’, and thus he is the one calling the shots.

A darling who is happy to let him take over their life like this is a massive help to him – he doesn’t have to fight for control, nor does he have to argue with them about why certain decisions really should be made by him as the more dominant partner, as the one who knows more about the world, as the man. It’s an outdated view and it’s one that he doesn’t really want to admit out loud, but he enjoys the idea of a partner who will revere him and allow him full control.

He wants to be loved and cherished, and in return for a love like this, he’ll do his best to provide for and take care of his darling in every way he possibly can – so really, if his darling knows what’s best for them, they’ll step back and let him make all the tough decisions.

They’ll nod and smile and agree with whatever he chooses, pressing a kiss against his cheek and telling him how much they trust him, how they know he’d never hurt them, how he only wants what’s best for them.

Just the thought makes something warm swell in his stomach, the level of trust making him feel wanted, needed, a concept so foreign that it almost feels wrong. But oh, how he likes it.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Controlling

But in a very, very strange way – a lot of what fuels Enji’s obsession is this desperate, innate need to right his wrongs. He’s very, very aware of how thoroughly he ruined his family, how horribly he treated Rei, how he was a poor excuse of a father and husband, and he sees his love with you as almost being his second try. With you, he can do all the things he should have done with Rei and his children – he should have been sweet and loving, a present father that cared about each of his children equally. He should have been a doting husband, spoiling his wife and making her feel loved and desired.

But he didn’t, and although Rei has long since divorced him, Enji finds himself feeling lonely, incomplete, restless to try again, to properly provide for a sweet little thing he can call his own. And this is where you come in – and from the moment he realizes his feelings for you are more than a simple attraction, he dives in head-first.

He decides he'll approach everything with you in a way as opposite from his previous marriage as possible – he's all grand, romantic gestures, always showing up with a bouquet of flowers in hand and just the slightest pink tint on his scarred cheeks.

The grand, romantic gestures are, of course, merely things he’s seen in rom-coms; the women always look happy when the love interest swoops in with flowers and gifts and pretty clothing, the beaming smile and large hug the man gets as a reward seeming very, very appealing to Enji, despite his rigid exterior.

(Just the thought of you hugging him has his heart racing – it’s something so intimate, so entirely new that it makes every nerve in his body stand on edge, a shiver running up his spine as he imagines the way your body would feel pressed against his, how you’d sigh and sink further against him, how you’d squeeze him and god, the view he’d get when he looks down to see your body pressed so tightly against him that not even a breath of air could separate you -)

He’s scouring through women’s magazines, burying his nose in the glossy pages and searching for ideas and clues as to what women enjoy as courting gifts.

(He has to scoff under his breath every time he sees a new dieting tip or regiment, internally frowning and worrying that you’re seeing these ads and potentially obsessing over your weight. The last thing he’d want is for you to be unhappy with your body – certainly not when he’s so very happy with it. Not to mention the nutritionally heinous foods the magazine recommends – he’d sooner have you eat raw paper than follow this ludicrous advice.)

He’s even caving and very, very awkwardly asking his female sidekicks and employees at his agency about their tips on how to seduce a woman. He struggles to make eye contact with them when he asks, his imposing figure almost reminding them of a shy, nervous teenage boy with the way he’s so earnest about his question, his eyes lighting up when they mention an idea he hasn’t tried yet, pressing them for details and specifics and you must tell me what to say to her – how does one follow up gifting a puppy?

It would be sweet, really, how devoted he is to making sure that you’re absolutely spoiled, that you get a whole variety of lavish gifts designed to sweep you off your feet. It would be wonderful, really, except that Enji has never understood the concept of being too much – which is how everything will start to feel very, very early on in this process.

It was nice at first to receive a fresh bouquet of roses every morning at your desk with a handwritten card attached. (Written in impeccable handwriting, the cursive letters looping and elegant as they spell out short, simple, sweet messages signed with a capital E at the bottom, reading please make sure to eat enough today and that skirt looks lovely on you.)

It was nice at first, but after the second week of daily bouquets and even a few finding their way to the doorstep of your apartment, the sight of the pretty red flowers makes a sinking feeling swirl in your gut.

(Enji notices this, dismayed and frustrated by your lack of a positive response, and decides to double down and just gift you bigger flowers, because maybe your lack of joy at receiving the bouquets is because they aren’t big enough, aren’t grandiose enough, aren’t good enough.)

It was nice to get the cute, small stuffed bunny on your desk one morning, and you’d even grown so fond of the little thing that you perched it on the edge of your desk, assuming it was a one-time gift. But it wasn’t – the stuffed animals kept coming, getting bigger and more detailed and much, much more expensive, you’re sure.

(Enji is careful to remove each and every price tag on every gift he sends you, simply because he doesn’t want you to feel that you owe him financially, nor does he want you to be swayed into accepting him as your partner by mere economic standing – that’s an asset that you’ll come to know, of course, but he’d rather lure you in via more traditional ways. It doesn’t exactly stay secret, though, because once the necklace with a delicate array of at least five diamonds in it arrives at your front door, your secret admirer’s wealth becomes very, very difficult to hide.)

He’s gifting you jewelry with more precious jewels and gold and silver than you could possibly wear, and outfitting your closet with all kinds of dresses and skirts out of materials and cuts you could never hope to afford for yourself.

(And, of course, they’re all tailored to fit you perfectly – how Enji managed to get your exact sizes is still a question that haunts you, one that makes you scared to upon the nicely wrapped boxes that you find in excess outside your front door.)

It’s all just too damn much – Enji is suffocating with his attempts to woo you, his every gift and gesture leaving you feeling uncomfortable. What he’s trying to do is very, very obvious – and it feels wrong. He’s the number one hero, a busy man with much more important things to be doing – so why is he going after you? And why with such ferocity?

His forwardness will scare you off, driving you to avoid him and grow suspicious of his motives, and Enji does not like this development. This wasn’t supposed to happen – you’re supposed to want him, to be seduced by all of his efforts, to be swept off your feet and swooned by his gifts and words (delivered with the grace of a garbage truck, of course, but the sentiment is there – even if looking at your pretty face distracts him, all the words leaving his head and making him stand there gaping like a fool).

Enji doesn’t like it, and so he presses harder, stepping up the frequency and volume of his gifts, only effectively pushing you further and further away from him as you grow more uneased and unsettled. And if you were to confront him about it?

Well, this is where his controlling tendencies come into play – denying who he naturally is can only last for so long, and despite being a man with superb self-restraint, the moment that Enji feels you’re slipping from his fingers he’s morphing back into the man that commands your every move.

Suddenly he’s no longer presenting you with the newest shampoo you’ve been talking about (it’s salon grade, the best stuff out there, and much too expensive, but not for Enji – nothing is too expensive for him when it’s for you) but rather letting this expression wash over his face, one that you’ve never seen before.

It’s cold, remarkably so; his lips are pressed tightly together, his brows perfectly straight, those eyes lifeless as he tells you to stop fighting, go inside and change into the green dress I gave you last week. We’re going for dinner, and you’ll order the house salad and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Do you understand me?

It’s weird and unexpected and scary, and it’ll have you immediately stuttering out a yes and scurrying inside, too frightened to disobey. And really, while Enji winces every time he does this, eventually he finds himself trying to justify it as simply ensuring your relationship will last.

Obviously it’s not good that he has to force you into these small, minor, inconsequential things (like going on a date with him or letting him accompany you home afterwards), but this is different from with Rei – you want this, right? You’re just too shy to tell him how flattered you are about all the attention he’s giving you.

You’re just playing coy, acting on your age-old feminine instincts to make men chase after you, to be demure and make your partner work for your affection and love. And eventually, Enji will convince himself that this is different, he’s wooing you and getting you into a relationship with him willingly – you want him.

You practically love him already – things are going well. They’re successful.

They have to be.

And so, while Enji doesn’t mean to be controlling, the end results is that although he plays the nice guy that spoils you and gives you anything your heart desires, at the end of the day he is the one in charge, and he is the one dictating your relationship.

And really, what can you do to stop him? He’s strong, both physically and with the general population – one word from him and you’d be hunted for like a madman, ostracized from the community, brought back to him like a pup to its owner.

You belong with him, and it’s his job to make you see that – even if you want to remain blind.

Possessive

Enji Todoroki doesn’t share. Once he decides that he wants you, you become unequivocally his.

Sure, he wants to do things a bit differently with you and get you to harbor more loving feelings towards him, but from the moment his infatuation forms you don’t really have a choice in the matter.

You can pretend like you do, if it makes you feel better (and it will, because at least you can pretend that you have even an ounce of control in the relationship, that you aren’t just some adorable little thing he’s decided he wants hanging off his arm and warming his bed), but at the end of the day you’re subject to Enji’s whims.

And although Enji lets you harbor this fantasy of your relationship being truly consensual, the moment something occurs that threatens it, his true colors are shown. Namely, when he thinks your attention is veering away from him, his jealousy and anger become difficult to keep in check, his quirk acting up and letting off small sparks and flames all along his body. His fists clench and his jaw tightens when he sees another man around you, and although he tries to rationalize that the man likely doesn’t want anything to do with you, just simply being in your presence is enough to make Enji suspicious.

Even if the man isn’t talking to you or acknowledging you in any way, he’s anxious – he’s scared that something about this man will attract you, that you’ll somehow find him better than Enji.

Maybe the man is friendlier – Enji’s aware that he isn’t exactly the most approachable person on the planet.

Maybe he's funnier – Enji knows he can’t crack a joke to save his life.

Maybe he’s a better conversationalist – less formalities and awkwardness, able to get you laughing so hard you snort.

It makes Enji’s skin crawl, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s fisting his hands, and before long he will intervene. He’ll grab you as gently as he can on the elbow, guiding you carefully but quickly away to the other side of the room and physically maneuvering so that his body is blocking your sight of the man – and more importantly, blocking his sight of you.

He’ll try to talk with you, trying to distract you and get your mind off of the other man, all in an effort to get your attention back on him. He’s reminding you that you have him, that you don’t need some other man, that you already have one who’s capable of providing for you and caring for you as you deserve.

Frankly, he discovers just how deeply his feelings for you run in a situation where jealousy gets the best of him – you’d been approached at a small gathering by a man from another agency who was clearly hitting on you. He was leaning in close, smiling with a smarmy smirk and nursing on his cocktail like a lifeline.

Enji had noticed the two of you out of the corner of his eye, and immediately he’d gone stiff. He couldn’t stop staring at the way the man kept getting gradually closer to you, how he kept leaning in further, how his hand slid from his pocket to your shoulder, then your arm, down to your hand and oh, oh god, it looks like he’s bringing it down to your waist –

Enji had been by your side in mere moments, his gaze card and harsh as he’d stepped in front of you, making some poorly toned excuse about needing to speak with you for a moment, before unceremoniously dragging you away from the stupefied man.

From that day, Enji absolutely refuses to allow anyone close to you. And really, can he be blamed? After all, he fell for you, so why wouldn’t anyone else? You’re beautiful and caring, smart and dignified, and if he can see your potential as a lovely, perfect little wife, surely others can too.

And so, Enji ramps up his controlling tendencies the more he’s presented with situations where the green-eyed monster accompanies him. And this control takes its main form through financials – that is, while Enji originally didn’t want to attract you to him via his material wealth, he decides it’s a necessary evil in order to have you staying by his side only.

He starts ‘forgetting’ to peel off the price tags of the gifts he gives you, pretending not to notice how your eyes practically bug out of your head when you unbox the pink pendant he’d bought for you.

He starts inviting you out for lunches and dinners more often, ordering for you and choosing the most expensive items off the menu despite your numerous pleas that you’ll opt for something – anything – cheaper.

(It’s frustrating, too, because as angry as you want to be at him for ordering for you, he always chooses something you end up liking – of course it’s because he’s done extensive research and stalking, finding out your favorite foods and what flavors you dislike, but it all seems like one large, awfully strange coincidence to you.)

Exerting financial control over you keeps you complacent, because the guilt you’ll feel at how much money he’s sinking into you will have you following his every word, even if it his commands are a little strange and off-putting – like spending less time with any male friends (or really any friends for that matter) or slipping the small photograph of him into your purse (it’s weird and you do so hesitantly, making sure the polaroid is at the bottom of the bag – and trying to ignore the way his muscles are oh-so fucking defined in the tight black shirt he’s sporting in the photograph).

It’s all just a big ploy to keep you from running off with some other man – but really, if you somehow did manage to do that, Enji won’t be particularly merciful. He will be cornering the man as he leaves your apartment and he will be holding him by the neck against the cold concrete wall, threatening him to leave you alone or experience the rather unpleasant sensation of burning alive.

It’s not particularly heroic, but Enji doesn’t care – he can’t, not when the threat of you leaving him for another man is very much present and real. It’s too scary, too much for him to handle – it would mean you rejecting him, his second fuck-up in love, and the loss of someone who fits absolutely every one of his desires in a woman.

You’re too perfect for him to lose – so instead, he’ll own you.

Dependent

He will never admit it, but there’s this part of Enji that grows stronger day by day, every time he sees your face, that tells him in the most raw, real way that he absolutely needs you.

He’s essentially lost what he had of his family, and with the sharp uptake in responsibility as the new number one hero, the new symbol of modern peace, Enji finds himself turning to you in his time of need, in his more vulnerable moments.

Because really, though his exterior is tough and jaded, he’s only human – he too needs someone to love, someone to hold and latch onto, and latch he does. You’re his, and he expects you to understand that even if he doesn’t verbalize it.

He cherishes your very existence, each and every thing you do, finding you to be remarkably weak yet remarkably endearing, your inability to defend yourself simultaneously adorable and frustrating. He needs you to realize that you’re his everything; his whole reason for living now, even if he doesn’t give you many clues into this.

He isn’t the best at expressing his emotions, and although the love and desperation he feels for you is constantly overwhelming him, overflowing from his chest and making him dizzy, he doesn’t articulate just how deeply these feelings run.

Of course he’ll tell you how you’re beautiful, or that you’re my responsibility to protect, but he’ll also say significantly less romantic things like how you belong to him, how he's never letting you out that front door, how he’ll never let those disgusting, filthy villains touch something as perfect as you.

He thinks it’s sweet and exactly what you want to hear, but it’s not – it’s scary and strange and weird, but these are your biggest clues as to his dependence on you.He won’t tell you, but his expectations for you are honestly monumentally high; he wants you to be his perfect little wife, everything that Rei wasn’t, and this includes giving you every ounce of his love.

He wants you to be diligently cooking him hearty meals, keeping the house tidy and clean for the two of you, to be massaging his shoulders while he relaxes from a stressful day at work. (Hell, he even wants you to wear cute little aprons, collars with his name stitched onto them, those maternity/breast feeding bras before you’re even pregnant…)

He wants a domestic fantasy with you, and this extends to other, more vulnerable things as well. He expects you to embrace him as he walks through the door everyday returning home, to give him a light peck on the cheek and ask about his day, to let him hug you from behind and kiss your neck as you slave away over the stove.

He never really got the chance to do such loving things with Rei (not that he particularly wanted to), and as a result he honestly feels like he’s having to make up time, that he needs to be taking every single ounce of affection and love you can possibly give him, and he’ll feel no guilt at all.

He won’t outright ask you to cuddle him, but when he sits on the large, overstuffed leather couch and stares at you expectantly, you’ll quickly learn to run over to him and snuggle up into his side, to bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms and legs around him even if his body heat cooks you alive.

He won’t ever explicitly ask you to give him those fluttery, soft morning kisses he’s seen all the time in terrible corny rom-coms he religiously watched for inspiration while trying to court you, but the moment you smile sleepily at him and press a kiss against his lips while you holds you close in the morning glow?

God, it’s in those moments that he wants to give you absolutely everything he has – every part of his body, soul and heart, every single cent he owns, every piece of fame and fortune he’s ever amassed.

Enji just wants to please you, and although he comes off as an odd mix of demanding yet generous, terrifying yet strangely awkward, inside his heart is hammering against his ribcage every time you so much as smile at him, every time you so much as look at him. In the hazy afterglow of a round of passionate morning sex (in which you’ve realized that fighting will get you nowhere – it’ll only earn you an Enji that’s more frantic and desperate to get you moaning and crying out his name), when he latches onto your smaller, exhausted and sweaty body, pressing you as tightly against him as possible, sometimes his demeanor will crack.

He’ll lean down to deeply inhale the scent of your hair, to watch the way your chest rises and falls, and he’ll whisper in the softest of voices that he loves you, you’re the light of his world. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you, but Enji is hellbent on never finding out – after all, there is no chance of escape with him, and he’s sure you’ll learn your place soon.

After all, pretty, submissive girls like you always do.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Enji is, regrettably, terrible at hiding his jealousy.

He’s always been in a constant state of envy, whether it was vying for the top spot in the heroing world against All Might, desiring the perfect offspring in order to have the Todoroki name and himself live on, and countless other examples. He’s prideful and so fucking jealous of everyone around him, and this is only heightened when it comes to you – his possessiveness over you is nothing to sneeze at, and the minute he feels that your attention is threatened, that you could possibly be yearning for another?

He’s wasting no time stepping in, mercilessly shutting down each and every opportunity you could possibly have of being with anyone other than himself.

As much as he’s loathe to admit it, his jealousy and possessiveness stems from a place of insecurity; he’s aware that he’s by no means the perfect partner, and he rationally knows that you could do much, much better than him.

And so, as a sort of panic-induced response, Enji decides that you simply aren’t allowed to interact with any other men – this way, you aren’t presented with the opportunity to even let the feelings form. And he’s diligent with this theory, too – he’s always standing near you, acting as your shadow with watchful, hawk-like eyes trained on your figure.

He’s never been the best at reading people, but he’s able to tell from miles away when someone approaches you with intentions that are less than innocent, and immediately his lips are thinning, his brows furrowing, his entire body temperature raising by five degrees because you’re his, and this piece of scum disguised as a man obviously doesn’t realize this.

He’s your guardian angel in many ways (though really, he takes the guardian portion much too far – even men who have no romantic intentions with you are viewed as potential threats, shooed away with a vengeance that will make them too afraid to even think about you without imagining themselves engulfed in flames), though at times it will make you feel more than a little patronized.

It’s as if he doesn’t trust you – you don’t really have a relationship, at least in your eyes, but you know the number one hero wants something more than friendship with you. And so, you do your best to avoid evoking his anger and wrath by not romantically involving yourself with another man – and yet that’s not enough for Enji.

It can’t be, simply because as pretty and sweet and smart as you may be, Enji will always know better. It’s a controlling tendency and a mildly sexist view, but he thinks of you as his doting, loving housewife-to-be, and it’s the man’s job to make these sorts of decisions.

You’re just too sweet and outgoing for your own good – you’ll get mixed up in all sorts of trouble if you’re not careful, and lucky little you has someone like Enji to watch out for you and make sure your pretty head has nothing to worry about. And so, Enji sticks to you like glue, warding off potential suitors with grueling stares and a presence and reputation too strong to ignore.

Enji’s day had been long, and one of those days that made him seriously question his abilities as a hero. A villain had managed to trick him, and although Enji had of course eventually arrested the perpetrator, his deception had led to a lot of wasted time and more damage to surrounding buildings than was acceptable.

His head was pounding, his body still feeling overly hot from all of the fighting, and though not normal, he’d decided he was done for the day and left the rest of the agency’s calls to his sidekicks. Leaving early had felt almost freeing in a way, the world looking a bit different with all this extra time – walking down the sidewalk, Enji scanned the windows of each shop he passed.

As per usual, you’d been on his mind all day – flashes of your face sitting just behind his eyelids, your name just a hair away on his tongue, the feeling of your phantom touch sending shivers down his spine. It was irritating, distracting, heavenly, and with each window he passed, he kept an eye out for anything you might like.

He’d gotten you a pretty tea cup set yesterday, and although you’d been hesitant and visibly uncomfortable at receiving such a gift (the set was very, very obviously expensive, the marbled china too perfect and pristine to have costed anything less than a year’s worth of your salary), Enji was eager to gift you something that would be received better today.

Streets passed by, nothing quite suiting his vision for what you deserved – he’d need something more subtle today, something simple and sweet and something he knows you like – The confectionary is small, with swirling black letters over a baby pink banner spelling out the name of the store. The windows are lined with all sorts of chocolates and candies, all wrapped up in pretty, ornate packaging that makes Enji immediately pick up his pace, practically storming into the small shop.

It smells like vanilla and sugar as the door shuts behind him, and although it makes him wince, he knows you’d love it. Shelves nearly as tall as him line the shop in narrow rows, displaying all sorts of sweets that he’s never heard of before – caramels, gumdrops, chocolates, lollipops, anything and everything under the sun.

He’s only been in the store for roughly five minutes, staring at a collection of truffles with furrowed brows and a downward curl of his lip when he hears a small laugh over the gentle, happy classical music playing quietly over the speakers. Immediately he’s perking up – the laugh sounds familiar; the lilt of it, the tonality, the soft intake of breath right after it stops.

His lips part, eyes going wide, and before he can even really control himself he’s rushing towards the source of the noise, his entire face growing warm when he sees you – you’re at the register, a few candies sitting on the wooden slab, your purse in hand as you fish for presumably your wallet.

You look gorgeous today – you’re wearing a shirt he’s never seen before and your favorite pair of jeans (the ones that make your ass look so, so very perfect – perfect to squeeze at, to grope and touch and smack and press himself against…), and although he’s briefly disappointed that you aren’t wearing an item of clothing that he’d gifted you, he notices the clerk all too soon.

The clerk – Hyoshi, his nametag says – is smiling at you. He’s all teeth, a grin that makes the hairs on the back of Enji’s neck stand up, his nostrils flaring because you’d been laughing, and it must be this man’s doing. This man, who’s visibly weak even under the ridiculous confectionary uniform he’s sporting – arms that couldn’t hope to lift even a fraction of what Enji can, a chest that isn’t ruggedly defined like the hero’s, and a stature that’s frankly pathetic compared to the frame of the redheaded man behind you.

Enji’s angry, and as the man opens his mouth to presumably say something else (potentially something that’ll make you laugh again), his words die on his tongue as he glances behind you to see the behemoth of a man who’s quite literally acting as your shadow.

His eyes widen and immediately he’s stuttering out a w-welcome in, Endeavor! At that, your shoulders go stiff, your mouth parting into an adorable little ‘o’ that Enji can practically see in his head, and you slowly turn around.

Oh, hello Endeavor, aren’t you normally on patrol right now?

Enji’s jaw works, and although a small part of him is pleasantly surprised that you’d remembered his patrol shift, your words only serve to further frustrate him. You knew it was his time on the clock – and yet, you’d still ventured out into the heart of downtown, completely on your own, defenseless except for the measly, very sad pepper spray you keep in that worn purse of yours – both of which he keeps pleading with you to let him replace.

(He’ll get you new pepper spray and a taser and a pocketknife, just because he knows how dangerous these streets can be, and with your pretty face and your pretty body he’s sure villains would be lining out the door to get a taste of you. And of course, the new bag – he’s bought you plenty, in a wide variety of styles and colors, each gift getting more and more desperate to be the one you finally deem as being good enough to use, but alas.)

Enji doesn’t even bother with a greeting, instead stepping up to the counter, slamming down his credit card and stepping in front of you. I’ll be paying for her sweets. His voice is cold, firm, and sends the clerk into a scurry to process the transaction, meanwhile you’re staring in mild shock from behind the hero.

Of course you’re not surprised – how can you be, when he insists on spoiling you in every possible way? And yet the raw animosity he’s radiating right now can’t be ignored – you get the feeling as if you’re somehow in trouble, though you can’t figure out what for. As soon as the card reader beeps, Enji’s scooping up the card and your sweets, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist just barely too tightly and marching out the door, telling the clerk over his shoulder to keep the receipt.

It takes every bone in his body to not turn back around and swing at the man behind the counter, his eyes shutting tightly in concentration as he tells himself that it’s not worth it, the media will find out, your reputation will be damaged. But as his eyes peel open and he realizes the way you’re squirming in his grip, he only sighs and releases you, those teal eyes of his appraising you with a frown.

You’re feeling guilty again, unsure of yourself as you gently rub your wrist, and for a moment Enji feels regret – did he hurt you? He hadn’t meant to, he’d just been angry and it was already hard enough to not harm the man who’d made you laugh, and surely you’d understand that he didn’t mean to –

You break the silence before he can voice his concerns, clearing your throat and thanking him in a meek voice. Enji merely nods, a small grunt your only response as he begins walking again, your sweets – and your purse – firmly in his hands, just so that you won’t have to carry them.

When you don’t immediately follow him, Enji pauses, looking back over his shoulder with a brow cocked.

What? Follow me – we have dinner reservations this evening, at that new seafood restaurant by the harbor. Fuyumi tells me it’s quite good; order the crab legs and the caviar.

There’s no room for disagreement in his tone, and for a moment you just blankly gape at him, the situation too strange for you to really process.

But all too soon his eyes are narrowing, and you’re practically tripping over your feet to follow him, keeping your gaze cast downwards as Enji’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you even though there’s not a civilian in sight on the desolated sidewalk he leads you down.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Honestly, Enji is complicated as a yandere; there’s a part of him that knows that there are aspects of his relationship with you that mirror that of his previous marriage. He knows that although you may not be treated as terribly (and that you have more purpose to him than simply an incubator), you’re still trapped, essentially a slave to his will.

And yet, as time passes and his dependence on you grows stronger, he can’t help but justify his actions, deciding that yes, you may be stuck with him, but at least he spoils you rotten with your favorite foods, expensive clothing and jewels, an unlimited supply for each and every hobby you may have. He may have you trapped between a rock and a hard place in terms of leaving him, but at least he genuinely loves you - he aches to spend time with you, to hold you in his arms, to feel your heartbeat against his ear, your lips against his, your body writhing below his.

He’s convinced himself that this time is different, that you’re different, and as such he eventually decides that it’s really in both your best interests to just relocate you, to get you officially by his side. It’s really paranoia that drives this decision – he’s a working hero and a man with many, many enemies, and so it’s really the only option that keeps you safe.

Stealing you away into his private home – he’s the sole inhabitant, aside from a cleaner or two, since moving out of the Todoroki household – is the best option for a multitude of different reasons. You’re safer this way – the state-of-the-art security systems he’s installed around the estate are the best money can pay for, able to detect intruders and any suspicious activity in the blink of an eye. Enemies don’t have much of a chance of getting inside, and even if they had managed to, Enji will be right there to burn them to a crisp for even daring to get close to his beloved.

And even aside from outside threats, keeping you trapped at home will allow him to keep an eye on you and make sure that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself – you’re ridiculously clumsy to him, your every action having him hold his breath slightly in anticipation, in fear that you’ll somehow trip or fall or bruise your pretty skin. Plus, this way he’ll know that you’re eating healthily and in the right quantities, that you’re getting proper exercise, that you’re relaxing as you should, that you’re spending adequate amounts of time in the interior courtyard he’d prepared in preparation for you.

(It’s beautiful, as loathe as you are to admit it – all kinds of flowers bloom along the walkways, bamboo and tall grasses and trees growing in neat lines and providing shade for the flowerbeds on hot summer days. There’s even a small stream flowing through it, the gentle trickling noise almost enough to cancel out the painful silence that exists between you and Enji when he decides to join you for your scheduled garden time in the afternoons – uninvited, as always, and yet still unable to sense how desperately you wish you’d get these times alone to yourself.)

Aside from your safety, keeping you in his home helps feeds into his domestic fantasies of the two of you – you’re so very precious to him, and from nearly the beginning of his obsession with you, he’s always viewed you as the perfect wife – specifically, the perfect housewife.

He’s a traditional man, believing in traditional gender roles, and although he doesn’t view you as being less-than based upon your status as a woman, he does expect certain things from you. He’s the breadwinner, the strong, capable one who provides you with a roof over your head, food, and any gift under the sun the moment you make even the slightest inclination of wanting it.

And in return, you’re to be his caring, nurturing wife – the one who keeps the house neat and tidy, a room dedicated to only cleaning supplies that you get always stay stocked and ready for you, should you become inspired and wish to fulfill this domestic fantasy of his. The cleaning products are all diluted down to a level that wouldn’t be dangerous if you were to ingest them – you’d get sick, surely, but it’s nothing a home-trip from a doctor who’s been sworn to secrecy can’t handle.

There’s also, unfortunately, a drawer within the room that a particularly bored you had one day opened only to immediately slam it shut. Dozens of cleaning outfits sat neatly folded in the drawer, the black and white getups looking much too tight and much too short. A few weeks later you’d returned to the drawer, bored out of your mind while Enji was away at work, peeling one out with careful and trembling fingers. And of course, to no one’s surprise, the outfit fit like a fucking glove – hugging your curves and accentuating them, the skirt full and flouncy and very easy to flip up, the bustline practically choking your breasts with how tightly the black cotton pressed them together. You’d changed out of it shortly after, the rather disturbing and shameful fleeting question of whether this was the type of thing Enji liked making you too disgusted, guilty, and bashful to really consider.

In his idealized domestic world, you’d cook for him, too, but it takes a very long time for him to trust you enough to not purposefully burn or cut yourself in the kitchen. He has daydreams about coming home from a hectic work day to see you standing over the stove in a cute apron, humming some song and lighting up when you hear the door open and close, his announcement of being home making you practically bounce on your heels.

He wants to have you cook for him, to see you slave in the kitchen putting every ounce of your concentration and time into making him a meal you know he’ll enjoy, but that fantasy has to wait for the time being – just until he thinks you’ve finally lost that rebellious streak of yours, just until you finally come to realize that you belong by Enji’s side.

And so, in the meantime he’ll have you make him small things that hold little potential for you to hurt yourself with – simple sandwiches with pre-sliced ingredients, so that you won’t cut yourself chopping tomatoes or slicing bread. He'll have you prepare a sandwich for him and one for yourself, too, ordering you to sit down at the dining table with him and share a meal – though the conversation is hard to come by, and each attempt he makes at starting it is only met with single word answers from you.

(Another domestic fantasy he harbors but would never tell you about is to have you sitting with him at the table, looking at him with those pretty eyes and your voice dropping to a sultry volume, your chopsticks bringing the food you diligently and loving prepared for him up to his lips, your tone teasing as you tell him to open wide! He’d keep eye contact the whole time he chews, never once breaking it as he tells you in that low, gruff voice of his that it’s perfectly done, the seasoning is impeccable. He wants you to be bashful, to smile and hide it with your hand, your lashes fluttering as you glance at him then back to the food again, too shy to say much but your body language showing just how much his praise effects you, just how good it feels to be the center of his attention, the apple of his eye, his absolute everything.)

He wants you to be his sweet housewife, and although he won’t force you into any of the work, it’s extremely obvious what he wants of you – he’s always telling you about when you get adjusted, how you’ll be more open to fulfilling your role.

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be happy to iron his clothes; perhaps you’ll spritz a bit of the perfume he buys you onto his shirts, just as a reminder of you during his long days.

(As if he needs a reminder – certainly not, when you’re on his mind nearly every minute of the day.)

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be pleased to see the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands, your voice riddled with joy as you announce the good news to him, watching him drop the phone and keys in his hand and instead hoist you into the air, spinning you with a grin on his face so bright it nearly blinds you, concluded with a passionate kiss and a few tears on his cheeks because he just can’t fucking wait to have you as the mother of his child.

It’s all this talk of ‘when this’ and ‘when that’, but the strange thing about Enji as a captor is that he’s incredibly patient with seeing these fantasies come to fruition – sure, he may be forcing you into being a housewife just as he did with Rei, but this is different – you get a choice about some of it, unlike her. You don’t have to do the dishes, but you can if you’d like. You don’t have to bear his children, but you can if you’d like.

(And frankly, it’ll be hard not to – once your need for human contact and your strange, mixed feelings for him grow, you’ll eventually give into his requests for intimacy, and once the floodgates are open, you will end up pregnant from the sheer frequency and volume at which he pumps you full of his cum.)

All that being said, life as Enji’s captive will honestly not be too terrible – he’s still following you around the house like a shadow, but he’ll let you sleep in your own bed at the start, let you have your own bedroom and bathroom, and he won’t even force you into spending time with him at the beginning.

Because really, as tortuous and painful as keeping you away from him is, he repeats the mantra over and over in his head that eventually it’ll be worth it – eventually you’ll see things his way, and eventually you’ll come to see just how deeply his feelings for you run. You’ll realize that he’s only ever loved you, that he cares for you more than any other man possibly could, that he only has your best interests at heart – that’s why he always swung by your apartment at the end of his patrols, peering in at you through your windows, just to make sure you were safe and sound.

That’s why he kidnapped you, to ensure your safety and keep you in the arms of the only man truly capable of providing for you, just as you deserve.

That’s why he’ll never let you escape him, no matter how you beg and plead for your freedom – you don’t understand the outside world like he does. You think you do, but each villain he arrests is a nail in the coffin of your freedom – you have no fucking clue how dangerous the world is, and Enji isn’t hesitant to remind you of this.

You’re unhappy with him? Well, your options are here, in his warm house where he’s willing to give you every ounce of his attention, love, and touch, or out in the big, scary world where women like you are easy targets for men who love destroying easy targets.

So really, you’re in the best hands with Enji – he knows how to take care of you, and he’ll spoil you with every possible treasure you could want. What’s not to be happy about?

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, Enji doesn’t ‘do’ punishments. Because he views his relationship with you as his second try at finding a companion, there is no part of him that actively desires to hurt you. He loves you, in some sick, twisted way that’s much too obsessive and desperate to ever be considered healthy, but it’s still love nonetheless.

And as such, Enji does genuinely want your relationship to be as wholesome and sweet as possible; he wants you to want him, to actively choose to spend your time with him, to want to be in his presence every moment of every day. He wants everything to be as perfect as possible – the idealized life, a life where he’s the number one hero coming home to his lovely wife who cherishes him and he cherishes in return.

And so, when you do something that doesn’t quite line up with this fantasy, Enji is understandably upset. Why can’t you just accept that this is your reality now? Why do you insist on fighting him, even when you know you won’t win? How could you?

He’s Enji Todoroki, Endeavor the Flame Hero, and you’re just you. You’re pretty, of course, and smart and sweet and caring, but you’re still just you. There’s nothing you can do against someone like him – which is why Enji is able to excuse your poor behavior most of the time.

He understands; it’s difficult to accept that you’re weak and powerless, and he understands that when you lash out and act out, you’re just expressing frustration and fear at being taken care of so wholly and completely by someone so much stronger than you. It must be scary, after all – Enji can be so intimidating and he knows it, so he’ll try his absolute best to calm down anytime his anger starts to flare.

The last thing he wants to do is harm you, and he wants everything in your relationship to be as different as possible from that with Rei – and hurting you in any way would too closely resemble his previous marriage, ruining the beautiful illusion he can live under with you.

And so, most of the time Enji is able to grit his teeth and shut his eyes, letting the anger subside by telling himself about all the wonderful things about you – things that always get him feeling calmer, that make the buzzing sensation in his head and the suffocating feeling of anger dissipate. Nine times out of ten, he’s able to calm himself down this way – and if that’s not enough, normally exiting the room and getting a breath of fresh air is enough. He’ll tell himself that he absolutely cannot fall into the same habits he did with Rei – you’re different, you’re special, and he’ll calm himself down as often as he needs to in order to avoid being seen by you as the big, scary man who will hurt you if you disobey him.

Thus, getting Enji angry enough to the point where he can’t simply calm himself down is actually quite difficult – generally, this involves you hurting yourself. Most other things he can twist into seeming not so bad, rather just being you not having adjusted to life as his woman quite yet. He can write off your escape attempts as you still clinging to this ludicrous sense of independence you seem so hellbent on keeping.

Attempts to harm him can be discarded as your misplaced sense of anger at your situation, because although in your heart of hearts he’s sure you’re happy to be in your natural familial setting (as the wife of a strong, capable man of course), you’ve confused yourself by trying to reject something that’s just so right.

Of course these events don’t make him happy, but they’re able to be disregarded – but when your blood is drawn by your own accord, even Enji can’t pretend this is something else. This is you purposefully trying to injure yourself, purposefully trying to show him that you aren’t happy, that you don’t want this – an idea that makes him panic, that sends his fists clenching, that gets him pacing and his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to set you straight without harming you. And so, Enji eventually decides that after he cleans up your injury, rather than simply hitting you

and physically showing you that he won’t stand for this sort of misbehavior, he has to be more restrictive with you. He won’t be so lenient for the days following your bad behavior – you won’t be so spoiled, your rights won’t be so freely handed to you.

You must understand that Enji is charge, and that he’s being generous and loving and kind by allowing you such free reign around your shared home. Really, he doesn’t need to be so generous – and he’ll teach you that an angry Enji is much, much worse than the normal doting, lovesick Enji you’re used to.

Enji is frozen as he opens the front door. He’d come home a bit early from running some errands, the groceries in his hand dropping onto the hardwood floors below him. His jaw is dropped a bit, the sight of your bright red blood staining your forearm making a wave of sickness wash over him.

Who did this?

Who could’ve hurt you like this? There’d been no security alerts while he was gone, and there was absolutely no way that you’d left the interior of this house in the two hours he was gone. In the next breath he’s rushing forward into the kitchen, by your side before you can even blink, paying no mind to the way you gasp and stumble away from him, as if you’re afraid of him.

It makes Enji’s chest ache, but the sight of your blood is too distracting for him to focus on the uncomfortable ache. Instead, he’s thrusting your arm under the kitchen sink, the lukewarm water making you wince ever so slightly as it runs over the wound.

Enji’s brows furrow as he examines your arm; the cuts are long, zigzagging in every direction in a way that looks strange, not like any normal attack pattern he’s seen before. This doesn’t look natural, either – not like a regular scratch, not like you just slipped and fell and had unfortunate luck. No, this looks like something else entirely – like something purposeful, like their appearance marring your pretty skin isn’t accidental in the least. It’s only then that Enji sees the glinting silver fork out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the edge of the counter with a bit of red staining the ends.

Immediately his body is freezing, his grip on your arm squeezing tighter as the gears turn in his mind. You must have…

His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth, those blue eyes of his slanting over to look at you with such intensity and anger that you physically shrink in on yourself. His grip is too firm for you to pull your arm back, Enji absolutely unwilling to let you run away from this.

Did you do this to yourself?

His voice is surprisingly even, given the look on his face, and immediately you’re shaking your head, your entirely body paralyzed with fear. You’ve never seen Enji look this scary before – or at least not towards you.

Your answer only serves to further anger him, it seems, because soon he’s literally snarling, his face twisted up into this ugly look of rage that’s only heightened by the scar across his eye.

Don’t lie to me, I will always be able to tell when you’re untruthful with me. He pauses, taking a deep breath, his voice just the slightest bit unsteady. Did you do this to yourself?

This time you nod yes, tears prickling at your eyes and starting to spill down your cheeks, and at the sound Enji makes, they only flow faster. He looks like he’s in more pain than you are – his face is red, and a few flames lick up around his shoulders. The heat washes over you, and soon the begs are slipping off your tongue before you can help yourself.

Enji pays you no mind, every ounce of his self-control going towards not slapping you in the face for your blatant stupidity. Soon he’s letting go of your hand, stomping towards the small first aid kit he keeps in the kitchen, entirely silent as he carefully wraps your arm in bandages, not paying your rambling any attention or mind.

As soon as you’re securely bandaged, he leaves the room and you hear the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut reverberating throughout the house.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, with you somehow getting from the floor of the kitchen where you’d laid down and eventually fallen asleep all the way to your bed, with the blankets carefully slotted over your body.

Nothing seems to be amiss the next morning, your footsteps cautious as you approach the bathroom, your brows shooting up when you notice that the counter is completely bare – your toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash are all missing, as are all the expensive lotions and facial scrubs Enji normally keeps in piles for your convenience.

The kitchen is empty, too, you notice – the silverware drawer is completely empty, and there are no cups or mugs of any sort in any of the cupboards. It’s unnerving, and immediately you’re getting goosebumps all over your body, the air feeling prickly and cold, as if there’s something lurking that you don’t know about. Biting your lip, you make your way to the table, gingerly sitting down and trying not to jostle the bandages too much – the bandages that had been changed, you distantly notice.

A few minutes later, Enji joins you in the kitchen, his expression not exactly jovial, but not particularly hostile. He greets you as he normally does, before placing the mug you now notice is in his hand under sink. The sound of rushing water gets your mouth watering, not having realized how thirsty you were until this moment.

Wide eyes watch him turn towards you, making his way to your seated figure with slow, heavy steps that get your heart thudding in his chest. He stops right next to you, before telling you to open your mouth. Hesitantly, you do as he says, jerking slightly when his fingertips – always unnaturally warm – cup your chip and bring the cup up to your lips, the water cold as you’re forced to drink it.

Enji watches with neutral eyes, though you see the corner of his lip curl up slightly as you drink the entire glass, the pacing of the water flow nearly too much and nearly choking you. Soon it’s gone, and Enji uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your lips.

Since yesterday’s little spectacle has shown me that you can’t be trusted with basic household supplies, let me know if you require another drink, if you’d like to brush your teeth, or if you’d like to wash your hair. You obviously can’t do it alone, so I will be joining you. Now, go lay down on the couch. I need to change your wrappings again.

You’re dumbfounded, watching him keep the mug in his grasp as he heads towards the living room. And though the threat seems too extreme, Enji means it – you only last a few hours before you reluctantly ask for another drink, your throat too dry and sore to go without it.

And that night, when you shamefully ask him for your toothbrush, you’re not particularly pleased to find out that he’ll be the one brushing your teeth, using his very own toothbrush to get the job done, just to make sure you don’t even think about trying to choke yourself with the brush.

(And when you finally have to shower, well, Enji’s face turns bright red when you ask, rushing to his feet much too quickly, grasping your hand and practically pulling you to the bathroom before applying all sorts of soaps and scents to the bath he draws for you. His breath is hitched as he turns around so you can change in privacy, but don’t be surprised to see him sneaking glances at your bare body beneath the water’s bubbly surface. Don’t be surprised when later that night you hear a suspiciously rhythmic thumping sound and muffled groans through the wall that your bedrooms share, the faintest wet, squelching noise accompanying them.)

And, roughly a week later when you wake up to the cups and mugs back in the cupboard and your shampoo back in the shower, you’ll decide against hurting yourself anytime soon. It’s not worth it – not if that’s how you’ll be treated; forced to ask permission for your basic needs.

And Enji couldn’t be more pleased – now you’ll think twice about using that fork again, or anything else for that matter.

(And he can still force you into using his toothbrush – under the guise of furthering your bond and intimacy, of course. And because he’ll use it after you, savoring the feeling of the bristles against his tongue like some sort of drug.)

OVERALL DANGER:

7/10

Enji isn’t necessarily dangerous, but rather inevitable.

He’s a determined man, driven by motivation for his goals, no matter the methods he uses to get there. And once he sets his sights on you, deciding that he wants you, that he loves you, you’re certainly no different – he will have you, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and really, what sway do you have?

He’s a professional hero, known in the public sphere responsible for saving more lives than you could ever hope to, and who are you? You’re just a pretty face, a woman who happened to have the exact set of traits and physical appearance that Enji finds desirable – you have no real way to combat him, and who would believe you, anyway? Enji is the new symbol of peace – as far as the Commission is concerned, he can have whatever the hell he wants, and if that one thing is some civilian, then you can kiss your freedom goodbye.

But really, all things considered, Enji isn’t too terrible – he’s trying desperately to right his wrongs, to love you in a way that prioritizes your happiness and is just better, and although you’re certainly not happy being trapped by his side, he can at least pretend like this is better.

He wants you to be his pretty little thing, to be his housewife and treat him like your devoted, loving husband. He wants you to greet him with a kiss on the lips when he comes home from work, helping him out of his jacket and asking about his day, then lead him into the clean kitchen where you’ve got dinner waiting for him, then join him in the shower and then the bed, letting his hands wander to where they please, then fall asleep on his chest, letting him feel like he’s protecting you even in his sleep.

Is that really so much to ask for? Enji thinks not – besides, isn’t that the dream for you?

All you have to do is let him take care of you, to spoil you with flowers and chocolates and jewelry and all sorts of things that make women swoon. You’ll be spoiled rotten, treated like a goddess, and all you have to do is let Enji make all the decisions for you, to let him take control of your life and your future – it’s better this way, he promises.

This way, you’ll be properly cared for, kept safe and secure and comfortable by his side. You may not see it yet, but Enji is sure this is really what you want – you’ll come around eventually, he’s sure of it.

And if you don’t? Well, at least he’s not a monster, right?

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere enji todoroki #yandere endeavor #_lee's profiles #_enji todoroki #_bnha #endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader

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yanxidarlings · 9 months

Text

YANDERE HP GOLDEN ERA: SLYTHERIN BOYS X DORMMATE READER

continuation of my previous post (i got caught up in getting out my anthony goldstein headcanons was it obvious). okay so full disclosure, i haven't read the fanfictions lorenzo and mattheo are from (i only read yandere is it obvious) (i see their faceclaims and cannot. exclude), so if i'm not portraying them correctly shout at me. but just for a moment, imagine having the 79-80 liner slytherin boys yandere for their dormmate? (okay there is a loophole i'll write for male readers/darlings if asked).

maybe they've known the reader/darling since childhood, and the sudden close proximity magnifies the possessive and obsessive tendencies they were developing towards the darling. or, the darling could suddenly get sorted into slytherin and now they have a roommate they did not expect to have. for the second scenario i don't think the darlings personality would matter much - either way, they're all apprehensive about this really cute kid they suddenly are dorming with.

maybe they give the reader a hard time at first (although this is only really likely to happen for a darling in a different house, or a muggleborn darling) but whoo boy if anyone else thinks of teasing the reader, they'll get hell from our dear slytherins here. actually, anyone who the reader pays mind to becomes a target of torment and bullying by draco and his gang. especially potter. please, reader, for potters own sanity and the good of the wizarding world, do not approach, think about or even look in the direction of harry. it ends in an ugly tantrum from draco, prolonged sarcasm from theodore, silence from blaise, aggression from mattheo and teasing from lorenzo. crabbe and goyle won't be carrying your books for you for the next week either.

when they get like this, it'll be the darling that'll have to make it up to them, or risk having it all drag out until one of them gets over it naturally.

GREGORY GOYLE & VINCENT CRABBE (cast josh herdman, jamie waylett):

they're all horribly possessive and jealous by default, but generally, crabbe and goyle are the easiest to deal with, they both have a soft spot for their darling, and are pretty used to being bossed around, the second choice and having to share. they're also the easiest to appease, putting food on crabbe's plate is enough to make him happy, and paying goyle any mind will go a long way.

they don't need constant attention (draco), validation (draco), and affection (draco), from their darling, and are content just being in their life.

BLAISE ZABINI (cast louis cordice):

after them, i honestly don't know who's worse. going in alphabetical order, blaise appears to be calm and uncaring when it comes to his darling, but do not be fooled, he's not going to sit back and let his darling get whisked away by the likes of a half blood (sorry mattheo), spolit daddy's boy (apologies draco), spolit mommy's boy (soz enzo) or someone who's one lab accident away from becoming a supervillain (blaise's words not mine theo).

blaise tolerates the rest of the slytherins for now, but if any of them think he'd ever fully agree to sharing with the likes of them, they are wrong. he fantasises about taking his darling away from the world after graduating, and probably has his mother trying to arrange a marriage the moment he decides they're his.

DRACO MALFOY (cast tom felton):

unlike blaise, draco is not even a little bit subtle about his possesiveness over his darling, he only see's the other slytherins as tools to ensure his darlings safety and happiness at hogwarts, and does not bother to pretend like he isn't planning to kidnap move the reader into malfoy manor the minute they graduate. actually, he couldn't wait that long.

he'll look for any opportunity to have the malfoy family gain custody of his darling. all the more better if his darling comes from a dysfunctional household. but either way, he'll make sure his family is all they have to turn to.

all i know about lorenzo is that he has mommy and daddy issues so i'll have to piggybank off that. he'll present himself as the 'sane' one, if his darling is complaining about the behaviour of the other slytherins, enzo wholeheartedly agree's with them "i don't know what's wrong with all of them - you sure you didn't slip any amortentia into their drinks?" he becomes a safe haven from the possessive obsession his dormmates seem to share for their darling.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (fancast louis patridge):

lorenzo acts the most normal, but don't be fooled, he's just as obsessed as the rest of them. enzo is just better at hiding it. he too, frequently thinks about whisking them away, but is much less finite about it; holing his darling up in his house isn't the end goal. he could honestly live with sharing them with his fellow slytherins, but this is all assuming that the reader takes well to his attempts at becoming the 'sane one'.

if enzo isn't able to successfully befriend them, he'll have to settle for being the 'mean one'. teasing and humiliation follows his darling, as does he. it's not severe, but it's probably the push the reader needs to fall into deep depression and anxiety. so please, take the sane bait.

MATTHEO RIDDLE (fancast benjamin wadsworth):

mattheo doesn't exactly have a family reputation to uphold, blaise, draco, enzo and theo would want to keep up a respectable reputation, whatever that is in pureblood society, but mattheo? the dark lords son? he's entirely unhinged.

if lorenzo is the 'sane one', mattheo is the 'crazy one'.

he doesn't really care what his darling, or others, think of his behaviour. if he wants to spend time with them, he's going to. he'll pull them out of class, drag them away from the other slytherins, just to skip rocks in the black lake with them, or raid the kitchens. he doesn't really bother hiding his yandere tendencies, he'll actively tell his darling not to talk to certain people "because i said so" "stop asking questions", and will refuse to elaborate further. sometimes, there will be disturbing moments of honesty between him and his darling; he'll admit that he's obsessed with them, and threaten to attack people they pay attention to. and he'll tell them that they belong to him.

sometimes it's frightening and sometimes he'll come across as sweet. he is both predictable and unpredictable, which puts his darling at unease around him.

THEODORE NOTT (fancast lorenzo zurzolo):

theodore uses guilt to garner his darlings sympathy, all the more easier if they are childhood friends. he'll make sure they know about his harsh childhood, and make them feel responsible for his wellbeing. he's the only one to create a sense of dependency not built upon threats. out of all the slytherins, he gets to know his darling the best, he'll use guilt, emotional breakdowns and dark secrets to create a sense of obligation towards him.

theo is the most comforting of the slytherins to be around, he's quiet and the only one who they can spend time with without feeling much pressure. he demands the most of their attention, and is by far the most possessive. whilst i can see the other slytherins finding a way to deal with sharing their darling amonst themselves, if the rest don't back off eventually (stop dreaming theo) (they won't), he's the most inclined to just get rid of them - he can't stand it when his darling is around anyone but him, he wakes early to walk his darling to class just so they won't get caught up in the busy halls, where eyes can wonder and other people can have a chance to interact with his darling.

theodore pairs with them for every project, which leads to some ugly arguments between him and blaise, who only really get's his fill of his darling by sitting next to them in class. and draco, and mattheo and enzo and even goyle who was hoping the reader would help get him a good grade for once.

out of all of them, draco, goyle and blaise are the most patient. they want their darling to love them, not see them as monsters to flinch away from.

theodore, lorenzo and mattheo will take whatever they can get. lorenzo in particular doesn't want his darling to fear him but won't let them get away with trying to escape or disobedience. mattheo doesn't mind being the villain if he must be, but his heart clenches when his darling acts so obviously distrustful of him. theodore is the least patient, and if his darling starts to shy away from him, he snaps. at them, at the rest of the slytherin boys. but he's also easy to keep content, so long as his darling is always by his side.

similarly, blaise just enjoys being in the presence of his darling, and doesn't feel the need to cuddle up to them constantly like draco and enzo do. mattheo is a loose canon, and sometimes is fine being near them, other times he wants skin to skin contact 25/8.

they're hopeless at sharing, and only really get along for the sake of their darling. there are only really two ways this can end; theodore finally snaps and tries to off the rest of them after graduation, or they somehow come to an agreement on sharing, maybe they each get their own day a week

monday for draco, tuesday for blaise, wednesday for theo, thursday for enzo, and friday for mattheo. goyle and crabbe probably aren't taken seriously enough to get given their own day, so then the weekends are spent sharing (fighting).

the only time the boys will work in tandem is when someone attempts to take their darling and their attention, away. best example, darling starts dating someone. which is already pretty improbable, considering they give the reader no alone time whatsoever. but let's just say the darling here is going on a date with cormac mclaggen (get a grip, darling), any grudges they've been holding against each other are off, mclaggen has just signed his death warrant.

mattheo and theodore do most of the dirty work, whilst lorenzo distracts the reader. draco and blaise cover up their tracks, so it seems like whatever they did to mclaggen was an untimely accident. or have it blamed on someone else. goyle and crabbe intimidate anyone who tries to get close to the darling from then on.

they might hate sharing with each other, but they truly despise sharing with an 'outsider'.

#yandere harry potter #yandere draco malfoy #yandere blaise zabini #yandere theodore nott #yandere mattheo riddle #yandere lorenzo berkshire #yandere goyle #yandere crabbe #yandere slytherin #hp #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #gregory goyle #slytherin boys #golden era #hp writings

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lazypanartist · 11 months

Text

Hobie Brown x Artistic/DIY Reader

I love him 💙

pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Warnings: maybe spoilers for ATSV, IDK. Reader's in the punk scene and from Hobie's universe. Whole lotta projection. Canon-typical injuries

Features info dumping and personal Hobie HCs I guess. It's long ASF. And just self indulgent

Please RB, likes alone don't do anything for the algorithm!

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DIY/punk Hobie Brown

If you're in the scene, you know the basics

Patches?

Hand-Stitched

Usually with dental floss for durability/cost efficiency

And originally painted with white-out for the same reasons

Spikes or studs?

Cheap, bulk buy, screw em on yourself

Or just make em out of cans

Hobie's fit looks like it fits the bill

Old leather or denim jacket with the sleeves cut off

FN/SM painted on the back

Shirt's kinda tattered iirc

Spiked collars are easy

Same with the wristbands

When he meets you?

Whoo boy

It was one of his shows he was putting on

New songs, new faces in the crowd

He spots you from a distance at first

Little sketchbook in hand

You stay through his whole performance

When he's chatting up the crowd afterwards, though?

You're already gone

(Bitch writes a song about the pretty thing watching from afar, bc ofc he does)

He next sees you during one of President Osborne's speeches

Standing in the front row of a gathered crowd, shaking your head at the screen

He drops down after a few minutes, hanging upside down and blocking the less-than-pleasant view

He takes a few moments between questions from others

Little explanations

A promise to do what he can

Takes just a glimpse to look you over

You have a similar touch to the rest of the crowd

Worn out boots, tattered clothes, hand-sewn and painted patches

And your sketchbook still in hand

It's a little peculiar for the crowd

But he doesn't question it

What he does question is where you've gone after he turns to look at you

He only took a second for more reassurances

But when he goes to see you again

You're gone, just like the first time you caught his eye

He realizes then

That he's intrigued

He doesn't know what it is about you

Until he keeps seeing you pop up again

Riots

Concerts

Shows

Speeches

His immaterial object of interest

He finally starts actually talking to you the third or fourth time he sees you

At another of Osborne's liefests

An ambassador on a stage, surrounded by punks

Speaking of the President's virtues

Yeah

Spider-Punk shows up pretty quickly to run him off

And gets to chatting with you

When he first approaches, you ask for his opinion on a patch idea

And turn your sketchbook to show him the page

His spider symbol backpiece

But instead of FN/SM, it simply states

"Down With President Osborne"

He takes your pen and signs as a seal of approval before swinging away

Sure, it was a short interaction

But it led to even more meaningful ones

Like, say..

Him practically dropping out of the sky into a park

You were just minding your business, sketching the scenery

When he almost fell on top of you.

Covered in injuries

He laughs when he looks up and sees that it's you

Because of course it's you

Tries to resist when you start futzing over him

If you're the parent friend like me?

Patch him up

PLEASE

Even if you can't see him back together

Just

Bandaids and gauze pads

And maybe some candy

Bc suckers help with creativity

Or it's just my neurodivergence? Idk

Just. Offer him one in case he needs to bite on something while you're putting alcohol on his injuries

When you're done he looks them over

Promptly winces when he twists his arm 🙄

But then thanks you for your help and swings off

Again

These kinds of interactions become common

He'll find you hanging around the city

Either doodling or just vibing

And drops down to talk for a bit

Or get patched up

Loves when you offer to fix his costume

Bc it looks just as nice & homemade as the rest of your/his fits

Grins under his mask when he sees a new patch or two

And starts snickering if you deny their application

He really appreciates everything you do for him

And figures he should prove it

Sure, he's saved you

But he's saved a lot of people..

He wants this to be special

Unique

And he thinks he knows how to do that..

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stories-and-chaos · 2 months

Text

Shrike: Body Count

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. I’ve been seeing some stories about Alastor not having understanding the slang for ‘body count,’ so here’s my take.]

[Word count: 1426 Cw: language]

—————

“Really Angel? That’s your bonding activity for the day?” Vaggie’s single eye glared at the lanky spider.

“Whaaaaaat? Charlie wants us to share intimate secrets!” Angel Dust’s voice was full of seductive mischief. “Body count is a very intimate secret. Tells you a lot about someone.”

“Angie’s right!” A cheerful voice called from across the parlor. Cherri Bomb, the hotel’s newest sort-of-resident, didn’t seem much interested in redemption for herself. She did however have a genuine desire to help Angel and to defend what Sir Pentious gave his life for. The busty cyclops was teaming up with Vaggie as part of the Hazbin Hotel’s basic security.

She also had a mischievous streak wider than her friend’s. “I’ll start, give ya a hand Angie.” Angel snorted a laugh saying, “I’ve already got six toots!” She threw an ice cube from her drink at him. “One thousand eight hundred and twenty…” she paused to count on her fingers, “six. Most o’ that’s from Hell. I got to thirty-one before I died.” She leaned back on her couch, looking very satisfied.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer could only stare for a moment. “Whoo, nice going Cherri! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint,” Angel crowed. “Lesse here, before I died it was six. After that…” he did some quick math on his phone, “about 90,000? I’m sure we can review my body…of work to confirm.” He grinned lavisciously.

Charlie waved her hands rapidly. “Nope! No no no no no thank you Angel, you’ve shown us plenty that of that during ‘show and tell’ day.” Lucifer looked vaguely disappointed at missing out so Angel resolved to sneak a copy of his favorite performances to the king of Hell.

Charlie continued, forgetting her dad was in the room. “Mine is six,” she said with a shy air, her pale complexion turning bright red.

“WHAT?” Lucifer spat out his tea.

“Oh shit! Dad!” Charlie was flustered but did her best to compose herself. “I mean, I’m over 200 years old now, I’ve been living on my own for decades!” She took her girlfriend’s hand and squeezed it. “Besides, Vaggie is the only one that matters now.” The long haired angel gave her a watery look.

“Well…I guess you’re right sweetheart. So long as they all treated by little girl right?” Lucifer asked with an edge to his voice. At Charlie’s nod he said “Good.” He took a sip of tea before providing his number. “Seventeen.”

“Dad?! I thought…you and Mom…what?!”

Lucifer shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell Charlie. But your mother knows about all of them. She was even there for some.” He grinned wickedly, looking completely like the king of Hell for once.

Charlie buried her face in her hands while Vaggie rubbed her back in sympathy. “Not too shabby short king. Okay Vags, you’re up!” Vaggie glared at him and flipped him off. “Just our fearless leader?” Angel teased. She huffed, glanced back and forth, and held up her index finger as she blushed. “Thank you for your honesty, Vagina. Huskiekins, how about you?” Angel turned around on the couch to face the bar as Vaggie bristled.

Husk sighed as he continued polishing glasses. “Three when I was alive. Nine since I died.” He was fully prepared for Angel to say something like “Wanna make it ten?” but he just received four thumbs up from the somewhat reformed demon.

“Apologies for our lateness,” your voice called from the elevator. “Alastor had to rewrap my wing this morning.” You and your husband walked arm in arm to the group, with Alastor making sure you were comfortable before taking his own seat. Once he was ensconced in the wingback chair, long legs crossed politely, Lucifer popped up to inspect your wing.

“Hm, not bad.” He had you stretched it gently and gave Alastor an approving nod. “Good work deer boy.”

“Oh ho, of course my good fellow!” The lack of static filter on his voice was the most display of annoyance he would give at the moment. He hated the idea of any man touching you, much less Lucifer Morningstar. But he knew he didn’t know how to help your wing injuries without the fallen angel’s help. “I am a quick study after all! Can’t let my darling rely on someone that might not be around, hm?” His smile widened as Lucifer’s growl showed his comment hit home. “So! What are we discussing today, chums?”

“Ooooh, this is gonna be good,” Cherri giggled as Angel replied. “Body count, Smiles. Before and after death for the Sinners in the group. So, what about you and the missus?”

“An odd topic, but alright. You’ve kept a better count than me, cher. If we count the one right before our death mine is seventy-four?” Jaws dropped at your statement.

“That sounds correct. I had eighteen before we met, and a few solo after our initial encounter. That makes ninety-seven for myself,” he said, looking up to calculate mentally. “I believe after my arrival here, my count is five thousand thirty-one. Give or take a dozen.”

You nodded as Cherri breathed “hooooly shiiiiiit,” with an impressed look. “Mine is still more modest, four thousand six hundred and two. Again, give or take a dozen. Of course, about half of those we did together.”

Alastor hummed in satisfaction. “Oh ho, yes that’s true. Would that increase or decrease our original counts? Or should we have a separate list for couples?”

“Fuck me, I didn’t think they were capable of that,” Cherri said in awe. Lucifer blinked one eye, then the other as his brain tried to catch up. Charlie had her hands over her ears and Vaggie was rubbing her temples. On the other hand, Angel and Husk were sharing a confused look.

“Doll face, Smiles, what kind of body count are ya talking about?” He remembered the discussion about your sexual preferences and the numbers didn’t add up. The simultaneous head tilts from you both confirmed his suspicions.

“Is there more than one kind of body count?” Alastor followed up your question with his own, “How can there be more than one kind of body count?”

“We’re talkin bout how many people we’ve slept with.” Angel paused, remembering your difficulty understanding innuendos. “I mean how many we’ve fucked. Boned. Had sex with.” At his clarification you looked somewhat less confused.

“Why would that be called a body count?” you wondered as Alastor looked surprised at Angel’s explanation. “I’m impressed Angel, I didn’t expect you to explain anything.” Audio of an audience applauding resounded in the room.

The spider shrugged. “I promised your gal I’d explain innuendos if she’d tell me what you two do when ya fuck. Ain’t gonna go back on my word, ‘specially with this cutie.” He winked and stuck his tongue out at the two of you.

“Okay, what's your sexy body count then?” Cherri, disappointed that the thousands you mentioned weren’t people you slept with, was even more curious now.

“One,” you and Alastor said in unison.

Cherri spluttered a bit at the difference between the two kinds of counts while Angel nodded sagely. “Yeah, that tracks, considering you’re both ace as spades and the weird shit you’ve done.”

Lucifer, unsurprised at the amount of death and destruction Overlords were capable of, did look intrigued by that. “What do you mean, ‘weird shit they’ve done?’” Vaggie clapped her hands over her ears as Charlie buried her face into the other girl’s hair in embarrassment. Cherri Bomb nodded encouragement to you.

“NO!” Husk and Angel yelled out together. Angel looked straight up panicked as Husk dashed over to block Alastor and you from view with his wings. “Trust me Luci, you don’t wanna know,” Angel stressed, grabbing the short man by the shoulders. “It broke my brain. Mine. The porn star. Don’t ask ‘em.”

“Is the fact that we’ve [redacted] really that upsetting?” Alastor asked from behind Husk’s feathers. “I think it’s more that we’ve done things like [oh no, not this again], cher,” came your cheerful reply.

Husk pressed his wings back, covering both your mouths. “Boss, Y/N, please stop.” Niffty choose that moment to scramble up Alastor’s shoulder and peek over Husk’s wing. “They’ve done [bleepitybleep] too!”

All heads whipped in her direction. The tiny maid looked proud of herself as she added, “My body count is five! Just one from life. That one counts for my murder count too!”

“Okay, new topic!” Charlie stood up abruptly, her face as red as her tuxedo jacket. “Umm, uhhhh, let’s talk about favorite foods!”

—————

Taglist: @whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

#hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #asexual #asexual alastor #asexual reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin niffty #hazbin vaggie #hazbin cherri bomb

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neosexuals · 7 months

Text

glasses! ]]> l.dh NCT

The idea !!

A/n: meow meow meow meow meow meow (I am clearly feral for this man)

Warnings/pairings :: haechan with glasses , gn!reader , oral (m), nerd !haechan, marking, VERY vocal haechan, nicknames (cutie) , haechan is taller than the reader

You weren't all popular to be fair you were just there, average grades , average social status but still got invited to parties and shit.

Jaemin—one of the popular kids— invited everyone , and he mean everyone , for his new years party. Nothing wrong with it but it wasnt the best party it was boring , a typical frat boy party but with a simple 1 2 3 HAPPY NEW YEARS

Thrown around at the end , like boozed punch , coke snorted in the corner , floaties for some reason being thrown around and ofcourse beer pong. You don't enjoy these parties too much cause there's not too much to do other than watch the random guy make out with one of your friends.

Evidently troubled by the view you grab a tad too many drinks and get a bit tipsy and decided to dance a bit , love talk playing on the speakers drowned out by the sound of moans and "whoos"

After a while of shaking your hips every 2 seconds you feel something grinding behind you , ofcourse two or three boys came around and grinded on you before you uncomfortably shoved them away , this one didnt feel intentional tho you turned you head behind to see haechan being pushed around and against you.

You take a moment before trying to move out of the slightly crowded area before he grabs your shoulders and presses against you. You start to feel something against your ass before realising he was hard , although his eyes trying to convey it wasn't intentional you grabbed hi arm and pulled him out of the crowd.

As he tried to explain himself you couldn't look or think about anything else other than the fact that he had a boner and he looks hot , his hair messy , his glasses a bit crooked and his lips just pretty. You didn't even listen about the shit he was spewing other than the first sight he let out and a sorry.

You just stared into his sorrowful eyes till you grab his neck and pull him down to kiss you before pulling away "oh my god I'm so so sorry" he take a second to recollect his thoughts , staring at you for a second before kissing you again , locking his lips with yours, his hands cupping your face.

Pulling away once again you drag him to the surprisingly empty bedroom , sitting him down on his bed. Kissing him once again pushing him down before he pulls away "are you sober enough to know what your doing?" He asks sincerely

"sober enough to want to do this , and atleast I know your name cutie" cutting him off before he could even speak by a kiss once again pecking down his neck sucking and licking leaving faint marks, before dragging your body down to inbetween his legs at the edge of the bed.

He sits up and ruffles your hair a bit "god ____"sounding out what sounded like a whimper as you unzipped his pants pulling them down to his ankles "so you know my name too?" You smirk at his cocky smile before he shifts his body weight to his hands behind him.

You palm his dick earning a groan from him, his face practically begging you to do more while he fixed his glasses. You slowly slip down his boxers revealing his quite long dick , springing up to slap his stomach causing him to sigh in relief. You looked up at him maintaining eye contact as you slowly pumped his cock , rolling his eyes back as your hand ran down his shaft.

"___ please just- fuck" his moans enticing you , your head looking down at his leaking cock spreading his pre cum around it , spitting around it before taking his slender length in your mouth hearing more groans and moans come out of his sweet mouth. He grabs your hand

"Oh god, you're so fucking " haechan moaned, his hips bucking forward involuntarily as you bobbed up and down on his dick. "So fucking pretty on my cock" his hand grabbing your hair to fuck your throat, you weren't sure you knew this haechan , the one who sat at the front in english and occasionally asked homework from haechan. He's now fucking your throat moaning for your mouth.

"fuck ___ I'm gonna cum..." His voice dragged out from the moans "can I cum in your mouth?" He asked as he looked down at you , your eyes meeting as you hum as a nod , till he cums down your throat, your hand tightly gripping on his before you pull away , his hand leaves your hair.

"cute" you mumble swallowing his cum seeing his fucked out expression before he pulls you up for a kiss his taste lingering on your tongue.

"your amazing..." He breaths out.

"I could tell , had to swallow a fuck load" you respond playfully.

Tags : @hyuckiegirlfriend @fay-ebrahim @drkn3ss-blog

#kpop smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #haechan smut #nct drabbles #nct 127

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ode-to-fury · 5 months

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One Small Freckle

Pairing: Gale/Tav

Words: no clue

Summary: Whoo boy I woke up this morning and this lil drabble basically wrote itself and I like it so much I thought I’d post it. Self indulgent to the max which is my favourite type of fic to write. Gale has some morning after thoughts. This is based on my Tav but idk I think it’s fairly vague.

Gale lay awake, surrounded by Shadow Weave which terrfied and tempted him in equal measure, thinking.

Gods.

He’d meant it as a farewell. He’d meant it as- as a last night, a last wonderful night with the woman he had come to love. He’d meant to show her one more facet of his beloved Weave before the inevitable happened, perhaps to give her something to explore in future. In truth, it had been a selfish, shameful thing, and he’d known it would hurt her more than anything else.

I’m in love with you, too.

He’d made his peace with the fact that his life would pay for his follies. It had all made perfect sense to him. Too much sense. He’d endangered the Weave with his ambition, and Mystra had spurned him, and now, to protect that thing which he loved the most and earn his godess’ forgiveness he simply had to destroy himself.

It had made perfect sense, in his heart, in his mind. No doubt Mystra had known it would, clever, clever thing that she was.

And what would it hurt for the world to have one less grasping wizard in it to sully its wonders? Who would miss him?

His mother, perhaps. And Tara. But the two of them would be safe from the destruction he would cause, far away in Waterdeep. And even more safe, when the threat of the Absolute was gone. They would mourn, but heal. In time.

I’m in love with you, too.

Her hands had callouses on them that scraped against his skin when her fingers danced across it. Those callouses scraped against his own, from the years working with his staff, from writing. Such mundane tasks that he yearned for now. She had one small freckle on the palm of her right hand, just below her thumb, that he could have spent hours admiring. Had she always had it? Or was it from days spent in sunlight adventuring through Faerûn, seeing all those places in the flesh he had only ever seen on paper?

Had he ever loved anything so much as he loved her hands? He remembers the first time they’d touched, trapped in that rock. Warmth eminating from her fingers, even then. If he’d known how the touch would damn him, would he have taken that hand?

Yes. In a thousand different realities. In every lifetime he could concieve of, the answer was yes.

I’m in love with you, too.

He’d attempted to match the colours of his nighttime illusion to her eyes, though he thought he’d come up woefully short. In some light, they seemed grey, like thunderclouds, or green, or blue. Then she would grin, or laugh, and starlight would burst forth from them. Days upon days he could have sat finding the perfect words for that light, for the brown specks that floated in it like leaves on the surface of a pool of starlight. He’d tried to count them, but he hadn’t had the time.

Time. Once he’d thought he’d had enough. He’d thought he would have lifetimes, like Elminster. Thousands of years to unravel the universe, it’s secrets, it’s functions. Now… now when all he wanted was to watch as the corner of her mouth quirked upward, and a dimple appeared on her cheek, now he would run out of that which he had taken for granted for so long.

I’m in love with you, too.

And then. Then he’d made the largest error of them all, and forgotten that she was not a goddess, despite his feelings on the matter, and she would not know to guard her thoughts in the astral plane, when they connected.

Pleasure had ripped through him, as Mystra had shown him, in the way he loved, but knowledge also.

He’d seen her thoughts, the hurt he was causing her, but the love also. A love large enough to match his own, at the least. He’d seen her fears, and her dreams, and her loves. Forests she’d walked through and rivers she’d crossed. Her yearning for greatness and reknown and acceptance. Glimpses of firelight and laughter, of tears and loneliness. Such loneliness it had made him gasp with the pain of it.

They’d mingled and loved like the gods do, but the clumsy fumbling of their mortality had interfered, and Gale had lost himself in the essence of her and had had no desire to find his way back to himself. Not ever.

I’m in love with you, too.

He lay awake in the darkness of his tent. She had fallen asleep after, which he understood. The darkness, the fear of the past days, the battles at Moonrise to rescue their allies, and now this. Now he had added to those burdens.

He’d been walking toward a precipice. Toward the abyss of nothing. Away from the pain of his heartbreak. Away from the physical pain of the orb and his arcane hunger. He’d stared into that darkness that had been beckoning since the day the orb had stolen his powers, his goddess, his life. Mystra had given him a chance to find solace in that darkness. To redeem himself in it, and save the Weave as he did. It was right. It had to be right, or she would not have commanded it, no matter her anger toward him.

I’m in love with you, too.

Away from the darkness there was pain. Strife, death, and pain. But there was life. There was Karlach, with her easy smiles and childlike hope and vulgar humour. There was Astarion, with his snide remarks and his hunger for power that matched Gale’s in a way he did not quite like, but who was by his side when he needed it. There was Shadowheart, who was closed off and sullen but who healed his scrapes and bruises with a wink and always shared her wine. There was Wyll, with his bravery and goodness and who would help Gale think of a word to rhyme with “pool” if he asked. Lae’zel, who could barely hide her smile when he asked her about her home amongst the stars and who was stronger than the rest of them combined. Weave save him, it gave him strength too.

And there was Tav.

I’m in love with you, too.

Before Elminster’s appearance he hadn’t thought about Mystra in days. The realisation had terrified and elated him in equal measure. If she had asked this of him two months ago, before the tadpole, he would not have hesitated, not for a moment.

Tav’s lips had brushed over the mark of the orb on his chest, kissing that which he had been cast out and condemned for. Her lips were soft, despite their time exposed to the elements. He wanted to ask her how she managed it. He wanted to ask her so many things that he did not have time for now.

I’m in love with you, too.

And in the darkness of his tent, surrounded by the Shadow Weave which tempted and terrified him in equal measure he finally realised that something in his heart and mind had changed.

He did not want to die.

The thought terrified him worse than anything else he’d experienced in the past weeks, and there had been some truly bloodcurdling sights.

Somewhere along their journey, perhaps next to the fire when Wyll was telling stories, or fighting with Tav at his back, knowing what she would do even before she did it, or walking along sharing thoughts with Astarion and Lae’zel, somewhere along their journey he had started living again.

Despite the orb, despite the tadpole, despite their dire, almost inevitable odds of catastrophic failure, he had started living again.

And gods, was he enjoying it.

I’m in love with you, too.

The night before he had bonded with her in a way he had not bonded with anyone in his life, not even Mystra, for she had always kept herself apart from him. Tav had had no such boundaries, and he had kept none from her.

Perhaps they would all die before this was over even without him detonating the orb. Perhaps they would transform into illithids and lose their souls. Perhaps this Absolute would crush them without so much as a second thought.

Or perhaps they would triumph, slim as their chances might be.

I’m in love with you, too.

But he would face it at her side. If they found this Heart of the Absolute and they decided it was best he go forth with his plan, then gladly he would. But until then, if she asked him to live he would live. If she asked him to defy Mystra, he would. If there was even the smallest chance that he would one day have the time to write poetry about that small freckle beneath her thumb, he would defy Ao himself to have it. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to live with her, with their friends beside them.

And in the darkness of his tent, surrounded by the Shadow Weave which tempted and terrified him in equal measure, he grinned, and decided he would attempt to get some sleep before what would surely be a grueling day. Perhaps his last. Perhaps.

But certainty was ever an elusive creature when it came to adventures such as theirs. Hadn’t he been telling Tav so ever since Elminster had appeared?

He closed his eyes.

I’m in love with you, too.

#poor boy just wanted sex and instead did a speedrun through a three page long sad backstory lol #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale/tav #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale fic #gale of waterdeep fic #wildweave #my writing

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maxespurr · 5 months

Text

While We're Alone

Warning: Smut (it's just fingering in the kitchen lol) ,18+ Only, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha comes over to the Maximoff household to pick up Wanda and the boys. While Billy and Tommy get ready upstairs, Natasha is unable to keep her hands to herself and Wanda is unable to resist.

Set on Earth-838

Words: 1012

A/N: This fic features the same 838-WandNat from my other fic Disconnect but with less angst :) A holiday fic if you squint hard enough.

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"Mom! Auntie Nat is here!"

Wanda turned around to face her boys who were preoccupied with squeezing the life out of Natasha, the sight bringing a smile to her face. "Natasha! Perfect timing. I just finished baking all the pies," she greeted while untying her apron and hanging it up. She eyed the older woman's outfit for the evening and involuntarily swallowed when she found Natasha handsome in a black blazer and white hoodie and tight denim jeans.

It was a killer combo that made Wanda weak.

Natasha noticed the way Wanda was staring at her and smirked. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't find Wanda's domestic look attractive. The brunette's hair was tight up in a messy bun with some strands fallen out of place while the sleeves of a familiarr red and black checkered flannel were rolled up to her elbows. "Three pies? You really outdid yourself," she commented while Wanda packed the pies into their own individual cardboard box.

"Well, the holiday gathering is going to be bigger than last year from what Dr. Richards told me." Wanda looked down at her pies proudly then turned to her boys. "Billy. Tommy. It's time to get ready."

"Okaaaaay," Billy answered obediently and headed to the foot of the stairs.

"Mom, can I bring my Switch to the party?" Tommy looked up at her with puppy eyes.

Wanda gave him a playful, light knock on the head before planting a kiss on his forehead. "No, but if you behave at the party, I can ask Dr. Richards if you and Billy can play in the VR room."

Tommy's eyes brightened and cheered with a loud 'whoo!' before dashing up the stairs after his brother.

Wanda chuckled then began placing all her pans into the sink to let them soak. She felt Natasha follow after her and could already feel the redhead had something up her sleeves.

"Need help with anything?" Natasha offered, nodding towards the pile of dishes. Wanda shook her head.

"I spent all afternoon baking. I'll worry about washing tomorrow. But you can help with something else," Wanda proposed as she pressed herself against Natasha, a hand slipping to gently grasp the back of the older woman's neck to guide her closer for a kiss. She could feel Natasha smirk against her lips as they kissed and shuddered when wandering hands settled on her hips.

"By the way, is that my flannel?"

This time it was Wanda's turn to smirk. "It's mine now. You left it here last time you were over. It's very comfortable so I don't have any plans on giving it back."

Natasha pulled away slightly and clicked her tongue. "Is that so?"

"It is so. I'm sure you don't have a problem with that since it's not the first time you've let me have your-- Natasha!" Wanda hissed when she realized Natasha unbuttoned her jeans with a hand already slipping beneath her underwear. She whimpered when she felt fingers already toying with her clit. "Don't...! The boys are upstairs, and I still need to get ready!" Wanda bit down on her lower lip when Natasha slid a finger inside of her, failing to stifle her moans.

Natasha hummed, clearly unbothered as she slipped another finger inside of Wanda, the latter gasping and one hand clutching at her jacket. "I guess I'll have to make this quick," she remarked then leaned into Wanda's ear to whisper. "Shouldn't take long since you were already soaked before I touched you. Were you expecting this?" Wanda whined in response, which Natasha took as a yes and found incredibly cute, making her want to ruin Wanda more.

Wanda's free hand gripped the kitchen counter tightly when she felt Natasha pumping her fingers even faster. She no longer had control of her body, with her lips parted and clear moans spilling out as Natasha drove her over the edge. It was when the spy's deft fingers pulled out of her to rub at her clit that Wanda finally came, shuddering violently against the older woman. Her hips twitched involuntarily when Natsha pulled out and felt another throb between her legs as she watched Natasha tasted her from her fingers. Both knew there was no time for another round, but Wanda relaxed against the other woman feeling spent but content.

"Next time, let me take you out for a weekend. Just the two of us. I'll take you out for dinner and we can explore the city," Natasha brought up suddenly, her clean hand affectionately combing through Wanda's hair. Wanda had never seen the former Avenger looked so nervous before. "I... want you to know I'm serious about you. You and the boys."

Wanda couldn't stop herself from smiling, her heart swelling with happiness. "Maybe for New Years?"

"But what about Billy and Tommy?"

"I'll ask Maria if they could celebrate at her place" she proposed. "It's been a while since the boys have played with Monica, so I'm sure they'd be excited to see her."

"You're sure?" Natasha asked again. Wanda chuckled in amusement and leaned in to kiss the spy's cheek.

"I'm sure. After all, I'm serious about you too, Natasha Romanoff."

Wanda managed to sneak off into her bedroom before her boys found her in her disheveled state. When she stood at the top of the stairs, Billy and Tommy were talking animatedly about what VR game they wanted to play later while Natasha cooly tucked her hands into the pockets of her blazer. Wanda was wearing the faux red wool coat that Natasha gifted her for her birthday this year, and she smiled when she saw Natasha's expression brightened at the fact she was wearing the coat.

Natasha offered to drive them. The boys eagerly helped carry the pies into her sports car. Once Wanda locked the front door, she saw the way Natasha adored Billy and Tommy and the way her boys looked up at her with equal adoration.

Wanda couldn't help but feel how lucky she was to have those three in her life.

---

A/N: Thank you for reading and happy holidays :)

#wandanat #wanda maximoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #wanda x natasha

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dwindlinghaze · 5 months

Text

part i : no one mourns the wicked

(remus lupin x reader, sirius black x reader, soulmate!au)

series masterlist

summary: after the first quidditch match of the school year, sirius and remus became somewhat aware of their feelings towards you.

contents: fluff, really there's no warnings!! the next chapter will be more about them discovering what they feel, this one is just like an orientation of their background.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

walking through the halls of hogwarts is usually considered calm and peaceful; wind softly blowing through the creaks on the carved out gothic windows and the rubber soles of shoes padding across the marble floor were the only sound and feel. well, that is, unless it was around a quidditch match.

every semester, the annual quidditch match between the four houses will be held. now stepping a foot in the hall outside a classroom felt incredibly crowded and overwhelming.

a ravenclaw chaser yelling at his beater to put himself up together, first year students who are still questioning what the sport is all about, the gryffindor captain explaining on the tactics of playing. it was chaotic.

"we're going to win this one!" james put his fist up in the air, followed by his teammates who were just as excited as he was. a series of 'whoos' and 'yes' were yelled, bumping their shoulders together.

it was an understatement if you said you weren't ecstatic to see james and sirius playing the match this early october. they were both outstanding quidditch players, they have all your support. speaking of which, remus was still healing from last night's event.

it was a full moon. he woke up this morning, struggling to move from his bed. james and sirius had already assured him that it's completely okay if he missed. but remus was a sweetheart and would never miss his best mates' long-awaited quidditch match. it was all they ever talk about.

"y/n wait up!" remus shouted from behind as he limped to where you were standing.

you reluctantly whipped your head around, steps coming to a halt to wait for your friend. once he was close enough you reached out your hand for him to hold. "sorry remus," you chuckled. "come on, the good seats will be taken if we're slow!"

remus hesitated for a while to hold your inviting hand. he didn't want you to get left behind because of him. you noticed his expression of course, being the observant friend you are. a soft sigh escaped your lips as you squeezed remus' hand, beckoning him that it's okay.

"m'sorry," remus said in embarrassment. realisation hit you when you remembered that last night was a full moon. poor boy he must be struggling to even stand up on his two legs.

to make it clear, you were the first person remus told about his lycanthropy. it didn't happen on purpose though. you happened to be at the hospital wing after remus transformed during second year.

he may or may not had said 'i hate being a werewolf' way to loud. loud enough for you to hear when you couldn't sleep from your painful sickness.

twelve year old remus with his heightened wolf senses seemed to hear your little gasp. he panicked, hating the way he was so careless, not making sure there are no one in the wing first before he spoke such things.

however, his worry came to an end when you said that you won't say anything about his condition to a single soul ever. since then, you and remus became close friends. after a few months he introduced you to the marauders and you befriended them also.

a warm smile spread across your lips, "s'okay remus," you said softly, "i'm sure there will be seats left for us. how can i help hm?"

remus shook his head, "never mind that, you can go up there before me and save a seat for us yeah?" he really didn't want you to have a view of heads while watching your best friends' first match of the year.

you couldn't leave him though. he looked sick and fragile after this particular full moon so you insisted on sticking with him just in case the pain was too much to handle. "who will help you climb that hundreds of stairs up the stands?" you joked earning a tired smile from him.

you helped him climb up the flight of stairs. it was slow, remus groaning each time he pulled a muscle. nevertheless, you both made it up. you beamed once you saw a perfect spot right behind the fences.

"perfect view," you said to him. the match has already started unfortunately, but you both were lucky enough to arrive right on time as to see james chasing after the snitch.

"look at siri's hair," you said in awe, nudging remus on his elbow.

"good hair is it?" he replied, eyes locking on sirius' beautiful, long, shiny hair. it still looked gorgeous even when he's sweating from head to toe, even after the wind blew his hair back.

"he has nice hair," you smiled coyly. remus looked away, feeling a weird sensation down his stomach. his hand went up to touch his messed up hair, insecurity washing over him knowing that his hair is not even half as good looking as sirius'. he never felt this way before. he couldn't be jealous, for you weren't his and sirius is his best friend.

"your hair is also very beautiful," you said. it's true. remus may not have long silky jet black hair like sirius but his hair is full and fluffy. you touched it once when you were taking out a piece of dirt, his hair is in fact very soft.

remus mumbled a small 'thank you', eyes glued to his shoes. it was not a rare occasion for you to compliment him. you always say how smart he is or how he looks more than good after a rough transformation. your compliments always leave him a mushy mess. he can't deny, he loves it. it's quite rare for him to have someone saying nice things about himself.

that weird feeling appeared again when you laughed and clapped your hands to sirius when he did a flip with his broomstick.

maybe it's the way you smile, that very smile that makes his heart felt at ease. maybe it's the way you didn't see him in any other way when he told you he's a werewolf. maybe it's the way you were so eye catching yet you never let anyone felt less.

there are so many things running through his head.

"gryffindor has won the 1976th quidditch match!" the bombing voice from the loud speaker has made its way to your ears, breaking remus' train of thoughts. you gasped as you took remus arms, "they did it!"

and just like that, you had left remus on his own up at the quidditch stand. he didn't blame you for leaving him though, of course you wanted to congratulate your friends down at the pitch after their win.

he waited until the students has all gone before he made his way down the tenths of stairs. now that you weren't here, it is hard for him to not feel a pain every time he bent his knees to step down. aching with every step, he met you halfway with your arms linking around sirius'. the sight giving remus a pain under his ribcage.

"moony!" sirius yelled and hugged him. "we won we won we won!"

"congratulations pads," remus said as he smiled into the hug. the long haired lad may or may not hugged him way to harsh. "ow padfoot," remus hissed as he pulled away, reaching for his scapula to soothe the pain sirius gave.

"sorry moons," sirius grinned. "gotta go now, have a blast you two!" he then skipped happily to the gryffindor's quidditch team on the other end of the hall, receiving congratulations and compliments from the people around.

your arm circled around remus' torso, saying that he can lean to you if the ache was too much. he didn't though, he doesn't want to look more pathetic than he already has. besides, who was he to get such treatment?

with the new found feelings remus discovered, he couldn't get you out of his mind. now everything that you do is mesmerising to him. you picking up a a piece of bread and spread it with butter, you furrowing your brows to focus while reading a letter from your dad, you pursing your lips in disapproval when james made a nasty remark about a third year.

remus noticed everything now. it felt like he was looking through a telescope but the only object there to see is you. only you.

sirius was sprawled on the red cushion sofa, legs dangling from the arm rest. he was talking to james and the other teammates over and over about their win. all of them were so happy and proud, after years of losing they can finally get that golden trophy.

sirius' eyes traveled to the common room's door where it flung open revealing you and remus laughing together as they stepped in. the two of you talked like you were the only person existed in the world.

the raven haired boy narrowed his eyes at the two of you, a sinking feeling in his stomach. he knew how much you enjoy spending your time with remus, but he couldn't help wishing it was him instead.

he recalled the amount of times when remus cried on your shoulder after a full moon, but then he remembered the amount of times you hugged him tightly when he received another howler from his mother.

you study with remus but you also help sirius do pranks. you always buy remus a bunch of chocolate but you also buy him a lot of things from zonko's joke shop.

sirius' was equally in the same spot as remus.

that left him at ease because he might have a silly crush on you. sure they were sixteen and mature but when it comes to romance they were just like twelve year olds.

"hey guys over here," james put his hands in the air, motioning for you and remus to come over.

"won't we be interrupting?" you joked as you dragged remus along to sit down at the empty sofa. half of the quidditch team had already left to clean themselves.

"nope. did you see me when i caught that snitch? gosh i was so cool. is there any possibility that lily saw me?" james asked, looking at you with pleading eyes.

you hesitated before answering. you didn't want to be the cause of his happiness coming to an end but you didn't see lily anywhere either. "i didn't see lily but i'm sure she saw you james, you were incredible."

"i know right? i better take a shower so when lilypad sees me, i will be fresh and handsome," he winked before jumping up from his seat on the way to the loo.

you conjured a cold towel and threw it to sirius, "you look like you ... are sweltering," you said, seeing his heated face from the adrenaline.

"whoa-" he sighed, placing the towel over his head as he leaned back to the sofa. "how did you-"

"witchcraft," you replied simply.

sirius lips turned into an 'o' as he closed his eyes in delight, feeling the cold sensation travelling through his hot skin. "why is it called witchcraft, why is there no wizardcraft..."

you scoffed, "there's a term called 'wizardry',"

sirius took a peek in between the fold of his towel to look over at his tall friend who has been real quiet. he saw how remus was looking at you like you were the one winning the quidditch match. "is moony staring at you the result of witchcraft too?"

hearing this, you turned your head swiftly to see the boy sitting next to you. you made an eye contact but not long before remus cheeks reddened as he looked away, eyes landing hard on his lap. before remus can make a lame excuse or before you can come up with a remark to leave remus alone, sirius had already stood from the carpet.

"i'm taking a shower, it's getting hot in here," he joked before running up the stairs. truth be told, he hated the way you and remus looked at each other. eyes soft and cheeks red. he can't control the jealousy from rising up by seeing you and remus together.

#remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction

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taeyongdoyoung · 6 months

Text

summary: your overthinking is the reason behind everything. deep down, you know your boyfriends care deeply about you but your insecurities bring out the worst in you. seungkwan and vernon try to show you it's all in your head... pairing: seungkwan x vernon x reader genre: angst, smut, fluff; established relationship warnings: insecurities, ghosting, communication problems (but they are resolved), edging, fingering, eating out, blowjob, protected sex, soft dom!seungkwan, hard dom!vernon, pet names, praise kink (if you squint) author's note: i haven't written in ages so this is my wretched attempt at a comeback and also my first svt fic whoo! the title is inspired by taylor swift's song afterglow word count: 1.7k

You've become used to being the odd one out. Whenever you were in a friend group, whether it was with three or four people, you were always left out. It didn't hurt when your friends hung out without you, you were totally okay with that and found something to occupy yourself with. It didn't even hurt when they didn't bother to invite you to things. No, what hurt the most was being right there with them and feeling as if you were invisible. Not being able to relate to whatever your friends talked about. Not being able to add anything of value to the conversation. And them not ever asking about your interests. Like you weren't even there.

When you met Seungkwan and Vernon, your life turned upside down. The two boys had known each other for years but despite that, they made you feel as welcome as if you'd always been part of the group. They showed you care you'd never imagined possible and you genuinely felt comfortable around them. They always made sure to listen to you and give you just the right amount of attention. Your friendship with the two quickly blossomed into a romance and you were happier than you'd ever been. It seemed too good to be true. And perhaps it was.

Sometimes you would be observing the chemistry Seungkwan and Vernon had with each other. They were a perfect match. Truly, they gave you no reason to feel this shitty. But in the back of your head, a little monster kept telling you: "You're not good enough," "They'd be better off without you," "You're just getting in their way," "They're annoyed with you". They were probably much happier before they met you, you suddenly thought.

Not responding to their messages and calls for a week was probably not the wisest idea you'd ever had. But you weren't bold enough to tell them you no longer wanted to be with them. Because it would be a lie. You wanted to be with them so desperately. But your mind kept playing evil tricks on you. Maybe if you ignored them long enough, they would eventually grow sick of it and forget you. Shockingly enough, you had underestimated them.

You were huddled under the blanket, phone turned off, hundreds of texts unread, when you heard the doorbell ring. You really didn't want to leave the comfort of your bed so you decided to ignore it. It was probably an annoying neighbour who wanted to borrow flour or something. However, when after ten minutes, the doorbell continued ringing and you could hear angry neighbours complaining about the loud noise in the corridor, you got out of bed with a groan. Opening the door, you were surprised to find Seungkwan and Vernon there.

"You're alive!" Seungkwan exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. Vernon sneaked his way inside your apartment, not saying anything but judging by the look on his face, he was quite upset with your recent behavior. You gulped nervously and locked the door as the two men let themselves in.

"Are you okay?" Seungkwan asked. "We were worried sick about you!"

"I'm fine," you gave a noncommittal shrug.

Vernon continued to say nothing, giving you a taste of your own medicine. You had to admit, it hurt like hell. You tried to meet his gaze but he was determined on avoiding your eyes. Seungkwan, however, was here to communicate.

"Did we do something wrong, baby?"

"No," you replied curtly.

"Then, what's up? Why have you been ignoring us?"

"Don't wanna talk about it," you said.

"How are we supposed to fix it if we don't know what the problem is?" Seungkwan insisted.

"Some things are not meant to be fixed," you stated, even though you didn't believe in it.

"Talk," Vernon finally spoke to you in a tone that didn't allow room for arguing.

"It's just…you two are so good together," you murmured. "And like, I love that for you, obviously. But sometimes it feels like I don't belong. Like I don't deserve you. I thought that if I simply ignored you, you would eventually leave me behind."

"Where is this coming from?" Seungkwan seemed genuinely surprised, as he held your hand gently.

"It's not the first time I've felt this way. In friend groups, especially. It's always been like this," you admitted.

"It's all in your head," Vernon spoke in a calm, confident voice. "We care about you just as much as we do about each other."

Seungkwan nodded, immediately agreeing with him.

"If you thought ghosting our texts would make us give up so easily, you were severely mistaken. You're not getting rid of us, alright?"

You smiled sadly, your vision becoming blurry due to the tears you've been holding back.

"Alright," you repeated weakly.

Seungkwan ruffled your hair playfully.

"Have we been neglecting our sweet girl, hm?" he kissed your cheek gently.

"N-no, you've both been perfect," you sniffled.

"You coddle her too much," Vernon jokingly scolded Seungkwan. "So much she thinks she can get away with punishing us with silence."

"I'm s-sorry that I hurt you," you mumbled nervously.

"You're not. But you will be," Vernon vowed.

You shuddered at the thought of what he had in store for you, as he whispered something in Seungkwan's ear. Seungkwan seemed a little hesitant at first but you eventually saw him agreeing to whatever Vernon had suggested. Seungkwan gave you a pitiful look which told you a thousand words. Oh well. You'd brought this upon yourself. If you had simply been open about your insecurities instead of ignoring their messages, it wouldn't have come to this.

Vernon pulled you against him harshly and whispered in a somewhat threatening tone:

"You better not have any doubts about our feelings after we're done with you."

"I don't have any doubts anymore," you replied in a last attempt to get out of this.

"Nice try," he chuckled coldly and pushed you into Seungkwan's arms. "Hold her still for me."

Seungkwan held your wrists behind your back and positioned you to sit in his lap.

"Sorry, babe," Seungkwan murmured against your neck.

"I understand," you responded in a hushed tone.

Vernon wasted no more time and removed your sweatpants in one swift motion. He took off your panties as well and stuck two of his fingers inside you with no warning. You whimpered at the unexpected intrusion and tried to move but Seungkwan held you more tightly. Vernon skillfully moved his fingers just the way he knew you liked and soon enough you felt yourself being incredibly close. Just then, Vernon abruptly stopped moving, taking the orgasm away from you.

"N-noo, p-please, I n-need it," you cried out in frustration.

"Don't be a brat," Vernon warned.

You turned your head slightly backwards to look at Seungkwan, hoping he'll show some mercy. Usually, he was willing to do anything to please you and bring a smile on your face. But this time, you'd made both of them upset by ignoring them. So now, you were suffering the consequences for it.

"Kwannie?" you pouted.

"Be good for us, love," Seungkwan reminded you.

Barely giving you time to process, Vernon pressed his tongue against your folds, licking and sucking as if that one week of no contact had left him starved and thirsty. You were so wet you could hear the squelching sounds of your pussy and felt the urge to close your thighs and keep him there. But you knew that Vernon was strong enough to prevent that from happening and with Seungkwan following his plan, you had no choice but to be patient if you wanted to come at all.

"Please, Vern, don't stop, please," you were desperate enough to start begging. Luck seemed to be on your side and your boyfriend finally allowed you to reach your high. Your legs shook as he tried to hold them in place, while Seungkwan was still restraining your arms and abusing the tender skin on your neck with passionate kisses that would probably leave hickeys.

Vernon gave Seungkwan a barely perceptible nod and the older male let go of your wrists. He gently positioned you on all fours and you could hear the sound of his jeans being unzipped and a condom package being ripped. Soon enough, he entered you from behind, while Vernon took interest in your mouth.

"Open," he was a man of a few words but whatever he said, always made it impossible for you to deny him.

While Seungkwan was slowly moving inside you, whispering reassuring words, Vernon roughly fucked your mouth without saying anything. You were so overwhelmed by the contrast you wondered how come they were so different and similar at the same time. And yet, they made perfect sense together.

"Such a sweet girl," Seungkwan praised you. "Our precious baby doing so well for us."

You tried to moan because of the pleasure he was bringing you but your mouth was so deliciously full of Vernon that the sounds you were attempting to make sent vibrations to his cock, urging him to release. While you were trying to swallow as much as possible, Seungkwan's orgasm soon followed, filling you up completely. You couldn't hold it in any longer and came again, being surrounded by so much warmth and affection. Your knees gave out and Seungkwan pulled out of you, giving you a tender kiss.

"I'll be right back, love," he promised and petted your cheek.

You were too exhausted to make a trip to the bathroom rightaway. You looked at Vernon sheepishly, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

"I'm really sorry," you repeated.

"I know, kitten," he smiled. "Next time you feel insecure, please just talk to us, okay?"

"I don't think there'll be a next time," you chuckled.

"Even if there is, don't bottle things up. We're here for you, always," Vernon insisted.

Seungkwan returned, enveloping the two of you in a soft hug.

"I don't wanna lose this with you," you admitted, being more vulnerable than ever before.

"You won't," Seungkwan reassured you. "You're worth fighting for."

"I feel too sleepy to wash up," you confessed.

Vernon raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Oh, you thought we were done with you? Cute."

The End

#svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #vernon smut #seungkwan smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen #vernon x reader #seungkwan x reader #vernon #seungkwan #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #writing

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discodreaming · 7 months

Note

Could we please get some general romantic relationship headcanons for Erza, Juvia, and Mirajane?

genre: fluff

general romantic relationship headcanons

characters: erza, juvia and mirajane

ERZA

i feel like she's shy with dating, or anytime of romantic gestures

but also like really excited to be having such a romantic time with someone!

Now these next ones are pure rambles bc erza

I feel like she secretly has ur guys wedding planned out to the t

Like she won't tell you until u ask her to marry you

And she'll pull out thus giant book filled with wedding plans

Erza is also very sentimental with the dating

She keeps all your little gifts and eveey picture taken of you two

i like to also think she's clumsy during ur first kisses, and she's so flustered about it her face is all red

and it's the time where you can't help but laugh

she'll remember that

i feel like erza is also a lot more anxious in terms of needing to protect if you're a nonmage

but if you're a mage shehas more belief in you if you tell her you got it

she won't help the small anxiety she has with worry

but she still believes in you so much

now that's with fights though, but you guys only ever get into arguments about each other's health tbh

she is a lot more snappy in terms of protective but overall

JUVIA

miss ma'am is out here devoted to you so u better be devoted to her

juvia is also another sentimental person that she basically hoards like every little thing

I'm talking a small treasure chest or plastered on the pinboard type sentimental

confetti? tickets? photos? etc? it's up there

i feel like she'd love to match clothes tbh imo, bc even though she's got a style

i feel like she has some matching outfits planned for things like date night, important events

wear the outfits and she's gonna be !!!!!!!!!!!

i also see her as another one planning the wedding like

she has a book just like erza but make it a binder, and two books and like it's a lot she has it planned to the t

she also has a lot of faith within you, like fighting? day to day things? hell yeah

but she'd also not hesitate to protect you too

she would not hesitate to take on so much pain from you

her favorite dates are the most thought about ones, like a picnic? hell yeah. a nice dinner where u guys dress up?? just take her on dates SHE DESERVES IT

you guys def have kids later on

MIRAJANE

if it seems self indulgent it is i love her

whoo boy there wouldn't be much difference of friend mirajane and dating mirajane except the fact it's subtle but in the cute ways that makes people go fucking nuts

you could just simply be talking to someone and she'll come and run her fingers over your shoulder or neck

or you'll give her a quick peck on the lips before any quests

and the small but cute gifts

you two are also a matching outfit couple for dates

and it's this soft type of romance for a bit where everything sets your guys heart a flutter, like just

it's a sweet, soft romance but she's also ur support system vise versa

her siblings are very supportive!!

the entire guild is !!!! i shit you not it's like a huge family there's gonna be teasing but also okes and just overall being brought in by a huge family

SHE LOVES TAKING PICTURES WITH YOU

she's also super protective of you like i mean she knows ur capable but also a scratch after a job? ur cheeks are in her hand and she's asking you what happened, are you okay, who did this?

you know the song where "ur beauty never ever scared me" that's u guys fight me

a/n: i really am sorry for taking so long for this job has me by the scruffs but i hope you enjoy these

if you'd like mre i can give more i love these three women just bites hand

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physalian · 3 months

Text

How to Subvert Expectations Without Compromising The Story

Whoo boy, is this a contentious topic with the last few blockbuster franchises. To “subvert expectations” is to do the opposite of whatever your audience expects to happen. Your audience expects the story to go a certain way based on the archetypes and tropes your characters follow, the tone you’ve set for your story, and the level of mature themes that tone allows.

It might mean your long-lost princess doesn’t actually reclaim the throne she’s been fighting for. Or the presumed hero (or any of their straight friends) of the story dies halfway through their arcs. The mentor pegged for death actually survives to the end credits. The villain’s plan actually succeeds, or the heroes fail to deactivate the bomb before it explodes. The “will they/won’t they” is never fulfilled.

Supporters of SE argue the following:

It’s refreshing, novel, new, a fun twist on a classic tale

They like that it’s unpredictable and bold

They’re tired of stories fitting within the same wheel ruts of every other story that came before and like to see creativity thrive

It gives audiences something they didn’t even know they wanted

Haters of SE argue this:

It’s only done for drama at the cost of fulfilling character arcs

It’s a cheap gag that only works once and has zero rewatchability with the same impact

Tropes and archetypes have stood the test of time for a reason - to entertain

Plot holes ensue

When expectations are subverted and the story changes in a more positive light (like a beloved character who doesn’t die when we all think they will), the reaction is not nearly as emotionally charged as when the story changes negatively. Thus, the haters have plenty of evidence of bad examples, but minimize the good ones. Good SE is novel, or a pleasant surprise, or a quaint relief. Bad SE trashes the story and spits on the fans and destroys the legacy of the fandom.

What makes a bad subversion?

Like killing any character for shock value, bad SE takes all of the potential of a good story and gambles it for a string of gasps in the movie theater. It exists only to keep the audience on their toes, or because the writer went out of their way to change the direction of their work when fans figured out the mystery too quickly and now *must* prove all the clever sleuths wrong.

So, say your subversion is making the hero lose a tournament arc when they made it all the way to the final round and the entire story is riding on this victory. They may have stumbled along the way and had some near-misses, but they must win. Not just so the audience cheers, but because this is the direction their arc must take to be at all entertaining and fulfilling.

Then they lose, because it’s *novel* and irreparable consequences are reaped in the aftermath. They lose when, by rights, they were either stronger or smarter or faster than their opponent. They lose when the hand of the author rigs the fight against them and everyone notices.

Sure, it’s not at all what audiences expect, but you, writer, your first responsibility to the people consuming your content is to entertain them. So what purpose does this loss serve this character? How does it impact their arc, the themes that surround them, the message of your story?

Even if mainstream audiences don’t care on the surface about themes and motifs, they still know when a story fumbles. It’s not entertaining anymore, it’s not satisfying. Yes, crap happens in reality, but this is fiction. If I wanted to read about some tragic hero’s bitter and unsatisfying demise, I’d read about any losing side in any war ever in a history book. I picked up a fiction book for catharsis.

On the topic of “gritty fantasy/sci-fi anyone can die and no one is safe” – no author has the guts to roll the dice and kill whoever it lands on. Some characters will always have plot armor. Why? Because you wouldn’t have a story otherwise, you’d just have a bloody, gory, depressing reality TV show with hidden cameras.

What makes a good subversion?

Now. What if this character loses the final round of their tournament, but it’s their own fault? Maybe they get too cocky. Maybe it’s perfectly, tragically in character for them to fall on their own sword. Maybe the audience is already primed with the knowledge that this fight will be close, that there might be foul play involved, but still deny that it will happen because that’s the hero, they won’t lose. Until they do.

Then, it’s not the hand of the author, it’s this character’s flaws finally biting them in the ass. It’s still disappointing, no doubt, but then the audience is less mad at the author and more mad at the dumbass character for letting their ego get to their head.

If you write a character who’s entire goal in life is to win that trophy, or reclaim their throne, or get the girl, and they *don’t* do those things, then the “trophy” had better be the friends they made along the way, that they learned it wasn’t the trophy, it was something *better* and even though they lost, they still won. Even when expectations are shredded, the story still has to say something, otherwise the audience just feels like they wasted their time.

A good subversion does not compromise the soul of the narrative. You might kill a fan favorite character or even the hero of the story, but their impact on the characters they leave behind is felt until the very end. The hero might lose her tournament, but she still walks away with wisdom, maturity, and new friends. Heck, sports movies leave the winner of the big game a toss-up more often than not. Audiences know the game is important, but they know the character they’re following is even more important. Doesn’t matter if the *team* loses the battle, so long as the protagonist wins the Character Development war.

Good SE that should be more popular:

The “Trial of threes” – your hero faces three obstacles and usually botches the first two and succeeds on the third attempt. Subvert it by having them win on the first or second, lose all three, or have a secret fourth

Not killing your gays. Just. Don’t do it. That’ll subvert expectations just fine, won’t it?

Let the villain win

Have your hero’s love interest not actually interested in them because they realize they deserve better / Have the hero realize they don’t want the romantic subplot they thought they did

Have the love triangle become a polycule / have the two warring love interests get with each other instead, or both find someone they don’t have to compete for

Mid-redemption villain backslides at the Worst Moment Possible

Hero doesn’t actually have all the MacGuffins necessary at the Worst Moment Possible

Hero is simply wrong, about anything, about important things, about themselves

The character who knows too much still can’t warn their friends in time, but lives instead with the guilt of their failure

The mentor lives and becomes a bitter rival out to maintain their spot at the top of the charts

Kill the hero, and make the villain Regret Everything

More deadbeat missing parents, not just dead parents

Let the hero live long enough to become the villain

—

Why write a crown prince that never becomes king? What’s the point of his story if all he does is remain exactly who he was on page 1 and learns nothing for his efforts? Why write a rookie racer if he spins out in the infield in the big race and ends his story broken and demoralized in a hospital bed? Why should we, the audience, spend time and emotional investment on a story that goes nowhere and says nothing?

Cinderella always gets a happy ending no matter how many iterations her story gets, because she wouldn’t be Cinerella if she remained an abused orphan with no friends. We like predictability, we like puzzling out where we think the story will go based on the crumbs of evidence we pick up along the way, we like interacting with our fiction and patting ourselves on the back when we’re proven right.

Tragedies exist. There’s seven types of stories and the fall from grace is one of them… but audiences can see a tragedy coming from a mile away. Audiences sign up for a tragedy when they pay for the movie ticket. We know, no matter how much we root for that character to make better choices, that their future is doomed. Tragedy is still cathartic.

What’s not cathartic is being bait-and-switched by a writer who laughs and snaps pictures of our horrified faces just so they can say they proved us wrong. Congratulations? Go ahead and write the rookie broken in the hospital bed. I can’t stop you. Just don’t be shocked when no one wants to watch your misery parade march on by.

#writing resources #writing advice #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #subverting expectations #subversion

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