#Odette ( drabble )

[noctunis]

thinking about gojo who is so whipped that his ears immediately perk up at the mention of your name — or god forbid anybody make you LAUGH and he hears. hell hath no fury like a boytoy distraught

[emira-addams]

Hazbin Hotel - Carmilla x Rosie - The Devil is a Part-Timer - Drabble

Velvette‘s Mother Figure

"Really good work, Velvette!" Carmilla complimented the girl, clearly impressed.

"Yeah, thanks, mom..." Velvette answered, still completely absorbed in her work and without looking at Carmilla. Suddenly the table went very quiet and Velvette looked up from her work, confused. Carmilla and Rosie were staring at her open-mouthed, Carmilla had put down her newspaper and Rosie's food had almost slipped off her fork. "Uhm... Why are you both staring at me?"

"You just called Carmilla 'mom'..." remarked Rosie. "You said "thanks, mom" to Carmilla!" she enthused.

"What?" Velvette retorted in shock. "No, never, I didn't, I said "thanks, man"..." she defended herself as the blush crept into her cheeks.

A knowing and very proud grin graced Carmilla's lips. "Do you see me as a mother figure, Velvette?" she inquired.

"No, if anything, I see you as a 'bother' figure, because you're always bothering me!" Velvette claimed, but continued to avoid meeting Carmilla's gaze.

"Hey," Rosie complained. "Please show your mother some more respect!"

"I didn't call Carmilla 'mom'!"

Carmilla shook her head. "Don't worry Velvette, I honestly take that as a compliment! Do you want to talk about it later with me over a cup of tea?"

"Yes, I'd really like that, mom..." Velvette grumbled sheepishly. "But neither of you will ever mention this fucking conversation to Clara and Odette!"

[whitherwanderer]

21 // grave

[ A little bit of an expansion on a WONDERFUL wolqotd that @ahollowgrave posted a while back (whom the prompt "grave" was tailor made for). Ty for the inspiration, my friend. 💛 ]

It needn’t be anything overwrought. Nothing terribly sad and weighty and cumbersome as a headstone, if anything at all. She doubted even a burial would be necessary. A couple of cairns, maybe, or a mark on a tree for the observant passerby to note, oi, you’re steppin’ on someone’s hereafter. Make sure you say hello. If anything, it was the place that mattered more than the marker, and Sif had put more thought into that than anything else.

There was home, Ala Ghiri, to be interred in the catacombs by local customs. (Did they even practice them, still? So much had changed since the occupation.) But it felt ill-fitting. She hadn’t lived there for over twenty summers and she had to admit that referring to it as “home” rang a bit hollow. Dugald would complain about the scenery, too, as he often did. “Dirt, dirt, and more dirt.”

What about a place they agreed more on then, in La Noscea? They both liked the windswept beaches and stormy cliffs of the western coast—even talked about settling down there one day. One day, but never that day. Even if they often found themselves breathing in sea breeze and digging their heels into the chalky La Noscean roads, it never felt final. It never felt like rest.

There was a contender in Mor Dhona, on that little hilltop where the brush and crystal spires gave way to a sad lean-to that they never completed. If anything, that felt too final. Choosing that place to rest eternal was akin to giving up even before their time. The thought of the pyreflies (or “plasmoids”, or whatever clinical name the naturalists gave) buzzing around their heads as if sensing their ends' approach made her hesitant to go back at all.

In truth, she most often thought of the Fringes. Of the many small, painted mountains though which snaked the Velodyna. The foothills of the Spine as it ran through the verdant forest of the East End. Pleasant views in any direction at any time of day, mild seasons, well-tended roads, but…

Wherever it was, she’d be setting up the first marker herself. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she knew this, and the thought was heavy enough for her to cast off and kick further down the road each time it crept up on her. Then, eventually, someone would have to take the time to make sure a second one was put up with it. She was sure she had a friend crazy or sentimental enough to do it, but that still meant deciding on the place.

There would be time to think about that, though, right?

Right?

[edenspoem]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. ♡

summary: ellie simply cannot dance the odette variation perfectly without you spotting her. she calls you in, and swans begin to sing.

content: ballerina!ellie, smut, mdni, dom!reader, white swan and black swan dynamic, fingering(e!rec), slight choking, slight degradation, semi-public sex, presence of risk, drabble length, had to get something of this au out before i went psycho. think of this as series teaser, almost. barely, somewhat proofread. wc: 1.7k

Ellie works against her body, and time works against her.

“Dammit—I can't get it right.”

It is February: the unfurling of the year, and she is Odette this season. The white swan had incarnated, plucking only the most graceful, most sedulous ballerina from the flock. She begins to believe herself after all the blood, sweat, and tears produced in anticipation, and training. Nothing is graceful about this loathing season, though, and save for the culmination of when she was cast her sorrowful-swan, ivory feathers, this is a tribulation that eats her down to the sore ligaments of herself. Perfection is eroding.

She tries and she fumbles. “Fuck!”

Usually, this is no issue. Ellie is inherently so given to pirouettes; the group instructor is unapologetic about that praise. But their momentum overwhelms their beauty—her instructor also claims. She must find a balance, within, and without thinking too hard.

So she ends up calling you in to think for her.

The black swan.

Tutoring, of a sort. “You have the wings of a vulture,” you broach, pacing forth and from the space behind. You only brace the front when you spot an incorrection. “Loosen up.”

She is nervous to have her heartbeat in your ears. You have this touch nobody else can give, and yet it is for a reason she wishes not; correction, not love. However, she just might love it regardless. Touchings of the arms that mean nothing to you, and many things to her. You tap her shoulder, and the muscles noticeably stiffen. With a gulp, the chafing organ inside her is a solitary song she hopes you cannot sense the thrumming of.

Tired hands fall to her thighs in a slap. You watch her lips form a question in the mirror. “Can't you just show me?” She is adamant with it. Adamant with everything, if you recall each sentence you overheard from her private sessions. Somethings of malediction, most a pained curse.

Those bruises and bumps reflect that.

“Your grace should come from within, Swan Queen.” Although an aphorism most would groan at and nullify, it is almost vital to every professional dancer. Even you nourish yourself with the saying, and you are at the top. “Just as Pavlovich would say, right?” Ellie has technique. In fact, she has a grasp on it so violent—so obsessive, not a single other picture-perfect girl in that room on the day of Swan Lake casting could bear it.

Except you.

She puffs her cheeks into apples, “Fuck,” and mumbles under her breath. This day would leave a sprain.

Nuturing her inelegance. You think of it like this, and you treat it as such. When your palms introduce two gentle pressures upon her ribcage from behind, she fears you can hear it. Her heart; its rage. She overthinks the gesture and places her hands over yours on accident.

You hear air snag in her throat. Feel her fill.

“Feel my hands?” You motion with your thumbs, rubbing them back and forth under hers.

Ellie drops her head, and a strand of auburn slips. “Yeah.” Her voice is a feather. It writhes into the abditory of her chest.

She hates catching your eyes in the mirror. Especially right now.

Because she so graciously has her hands on yours, you turn your palms and basket the tense, fidgeting things in them. Raising them heavenward as a halo. “You have to let go up here. Don't overthink it.” Your fingers downpour all around her, until they return to her palpating ribcage. “Focus on your core.”

Fuck, what has she done? She invited you in here with the strict notion that you could implement her perfection. Nothing more, nothing less. Pavlovich would replace you as her tutor if the sun shone with the littlest deviation; you don't have to be here. But you are here, and she is borderline bleeding from her precious lips trying to distract herself from the warmth crawling out below. The visceral image of her leotard stained with a wet patch.

She feels like a loser.

She does anything but let go. “Like this?” It is so achingly obvious, the sleek of her juices making it uncomfortable to lift her leg.

“No,” you huff in a heavy increment, drawing away. Ellie's impliable arms were all over the place—and not in the graceful, poised manner of a swan. The poise she despairingly needs. “You can't be this nervous on stage. Someone psych you out or something?”

She descends from pointe. This girl is a rose-red silhouette of confusion, and crackling. “Um, not really.” But she is fucking easy to read.

All she needed was your hands again.

Handling her waist, her hips. “Did you lock the door?” Eating her mouth which gushes with the same, quiet concerns. You close it with yours.

“Mhm.” Ellie is feeding on your hums: fitting her lips in the cleft of yours, opening and closing, nodding and accepting, eager to pick from your fruit again. Docile creature in caging limbs. She is sat softly in your lap, doing all this like she cannot get enough of you, regardless if you are endless.

Her skin is peeking quietly from her neckline. Shining, shifting over her collarbones.

Post-practice glow.

She tries to relieve the throes of wanting immediately. This is not the same Ellie you tutored minutes ago; someone else crawled inside of her, made a corruptive influence. “Fuckin' soaked down there,” she hints with pacing breath, flexing her pelvis up. “Gonna buy me new ones?” She mentions about her tights. Those tights that always make her toned legs look woodland-born; spry as deer, long boughs laden with white bloomage.

You chuckle. “Oh, cause it's my fault?” But your hands push for that hot gap beneath, peel her leotard aside, and she goes white-eyed. Nudging to find the same kisses.

Opening her mouth opens her heart to you.

Then, her legs.

Full-walled mirrors reflect before her. Ellie goes insane watching the muscles of your fingers work her in numbing circles over the wet patch of her tights, and sometimes, insane from the stare you give while doing it. The friction is like molasses, but it is all she needs. God, she is pulsing on you. Whining on you. Does she come to rehearsals horny?

It certainly coheres.

Warming up next to each other on the barre, beholding one another during auditions, her cascading stares when you stretch, creeping softly up your legs. Wearing sheer skirts so wispy, so mini: you get it. Those sculpting shorts she wears—you're not even going to lie—prove the pleasure is visual. It creates a vertigo of pounding, indecent thoughts.

You folded them so delicately down her lovely hips. Now they lay stranded somewhere in the room, but fuck—does your skin raise thinking about her ass flexing in them before. Picture-perfect, palmful of an ass.

Has she touched herself to you?

She still avoids your eyes when you pick up your speed. “Fuckin' slut, aren't you?” Watching what was being done to her was all the more invigorating, hoping she would ruin her panties enough and swallow up your motions. Take you in closer.

She tells you she does like it. Well, whimpers, at least, and humps your river-paced fingers.

Then, she plucks at the band of her tights with her thumb, stretching it over the knuckle. You see where your finger pins it down.

Shadows brush against the frosted door. Soothing yourselves too comfortably into primal abandon and taking every tight piece of clothing off would maturate a scandal. Risks are high; you lead her wrist back.

Dopey giggles form her smile. “Why not?”

You affirm. “You know why.”

But no secretion of articulation was coming from her lips, only confirming sounds and thigh contractions when you grope and grab her thumping crotch. It was as though she was pent-up. Panting often out of her mouth, and glancing into the hoods of her eyes with a short leaning motion—you think she is. Pent-up, religiously for you. Little ligaments in her shiver with every little tug, barely moving anything under the layers, but she loves it.

She spent deadlight mornings dreaming that her bed beheld hers and your legs interlocked, cunts rubbing each other into humiliating moans and reeking of sex days afterward in the studio. It aches that she cannot see her bare pussy, and you, inside her. She thinks she might be fucking glistening under there. How exciting: what would it feel like if you ripped the fabric and stuffed her, displayed and degraded her? Your glare already does, Odile.

She needs to take you home. She needs the veiling between you and her so eroded, it rewrites the all-encompassing, eternal-age ballet right there on the grand stage. Makes the audience mull in their sleep. “Put your hands around my neck,” she beckons, inviting more hands on her.

“Yeah?”

She gulps. “Uh-huh.”

They fill the pale emptiness. After that, she finds herself trying to fuck herself more desperately on your fingers: she rides the length of them, using what is softened of her panties to slide up her folds. The pressure indescribable. She almost forgets that you are her competition; rivals shouldn't make her come this hard.

But, it's you. You lull the filthiness out of her.

When your fingers dig in the right spot, she pierces through her lower lip. “Yes, baby—fuck!” She jolts with a whimper. The sides of your fingers are scratched by the synthetic material of her thighs, her legs impulsing, eyes pinching, and her neck stringing up in your grasp. It is a chasm full of splutters. “That's it—right there, right there. Fuck, don't stop, please don't fuckin' stop.”

You palm her through it, fingers pouring out through the heart of her thighs in the mirror. And something else. Something that sticks her to her shame: orgasm-sopping panties she may replace, and replace twice. There is subtle moisture on your fingertips.

No way she goes home and sleeps soundlessly without flicking her pussy for you. In devotion of what you could not. She feens to be properly played with.

Ellie lies breathless in your lap, her skin sweating into yours. The scene is a silent basking until she breaks it:

“Should we continue this tomorrow?”

[noctunis]

gonna start crying this is so amazing everybody go follow them rn

hii!! i recently just started following you and i don’t wanna overload you with anything so i stress that i urge you to take your time and if you feel like you need to tweak anything then you can since i noticed you barely opened requests :)) i was just wondering if you could write something ( whether it be headcanons or a fic ) about gojo having a jujutsu sorcerer for a girlfriend / partner and his students don’t know so they’re all shocked when they just see this badass person next to gojo and he just casually introduces them as his partner lol. just a thought!! make sure to take care of yourself 💕

a/n: thank you smmmm for the kind words <333 yes omg i love this idea and honestly, i imagine gojo pretending to be chill on the outside but on the inside he's fangirling the same way his students are over his partner cause he's just so whipped and down bad for them jdjsndnsbd

"Shhhh! Quiet down, you two or you're gonna get us all caught." Nobara hisses through her teeth at Megumi and Yuji, trying her best to be quiet. It was quite a comical sight actually, the three students were all stacked on top of each other as they all attempted to crane their necks into the doorway as discretely as they possibly could.

"I still don't understand why we can't just ask like normal people." Megumi sighs, clearly exasperated at his friend's antics.

"You're such a buzzkill, Fushiguro." Nobara scolds him over her shoulder. It was like he didn't even understand the gravity of this situation.

This wasn't a situation where they could just waltz in and chat it up like regular unless they were intent on embarrassing themselves. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet the current rising star of the jujutsu world: the newly minted special-grade sorcerer L/N Y/N who was famed for being highly elusive, never being in one place for too long to be tied down to somewhere.

Rumours and stories were constantly swirling about you ranging from the more serious ones about your incredible feats of jujutsu and how you managed to exorcise a grade 1 curse for one of your very first missions without breaking a single sweat to more silly ones like that you only wash your face with the purest spring water that was imported from the Swiss Alps and that allegedly you and Gojo Satoru were seeing each other. She thought the last one was particularly dumb as she was sure that a person of your calibre would have better taste than to date their man-child of a teacher, even if he was the strongest. Whatever it was, Nobara was not going to let those two ruin her chances of possibly being able to talk with you face to face.

Above her, Yuji groans out in pain as he feels an elbow jam into his stomach.

"Hey! That hurts!" Yuji complains loudly, his grip tightening around the wooden door frame.

"Can't you be in pain more quietly?" Nobara asks and with that, the two of them were sent into a bickering spat as they traded harsh whispers and snappy comments. However, this would prove to be their end as Megumi eventually loses his balance from all of the commotion above him and tumbles onto the floor with the other two following suit as they land in what can only be described as a failed human pretzel.

Unfortunately, their crash was not as quiet as Nobara was hoping for as one of the office's inhabitants stood up from his seat, seemingly made aware of their presence. "Oh? It seems like we have some eavesdroppers in our midst."

You hum to yourself, your back still facing the doorway as you turn to your white-haired companion. "Is that true?"

"Yes, I think I might know who they are as well. If only they would be so brave enough to reveal themselves." Gojo sighs dramatically, even bringing a hand to his chest as if to feign sympathy. You can't help but giggle softly at his behaviour.

The three of them take that as their cue to stand up, dusting themselves off as they slowly make their way into the office in a single file line. When Nobara sees you, she can't even let herself fully fangirl because the amount of embarrassment she has at getting caught trying to eavesdrop is far outweighing it right now.

Gojo makes his way towards his students as they stand lined up, his hands rubbing together and a devious grin on his face as he puts on his best menacing voice. "Now now now, what do we have here?"

"Satoru, take it easy on them. I'm sure they meant no harm by it." You place a hand on his shoulder as you stroll up to his side. His arms immediately fall to his side as he melts under your touch.

An adorable pout graces his features, his bottom lip jutted out in an attempt to put on his best puppy dog look as he whines at you, "Awww, but you're ruining my funnn. I don't get that many opportunities to do this."

"Sensei, they know you by your first name?" Yuji questions, his head tilted slightly to the side as he tries to figure out what relationship you two could possibly have.

A sly snicker is heard from Gojo as he quirks his eyebrows towards you. "They know me in a lot more ways than just that" he quips back, his tone bordering on being an outright innuendo.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him, clearly used to his playful nature by this point, and give him a light shove on the shoulder to which he pretends to exaggeratedly nurse in pain.

"Sorry for not introducing myself properly, my name is L/N Y/N and I'm a special-grade sorcerer here on a visit to Tokyo Jujustu High." You smile warmly at your boyfriend's students, your hands clasped in front of you as you greet them.

Nobara could feel her breath hitch in her throat as a million thoughts ran through her mind. Oh my god, you, her idol, were actually right in front of her and were acknowledging her. She swears she could die happy right this instance but that would mean that she wouldn't get to take full advantage of the chance to talk to you fully. With that, she snaps out of her star-struck daze and politely inquires, "If you don't mind me asking L/N-san, what are you here for?"

"Oh, they're here to visit yours truly, me!" Gojo chimes in, a megawatt grin on his face with a sense of pride radiating off of him as he motions to himself.

A tsk sound escapes Nobara, clearly distrustful of her teacher's statement. "Yeah right, they have way more important things to be doing than that."

"But it's true though! My lovely partner is here to pay a surprise visit to me!"

"There's no way that that's true. You and them?" As if to punctuate her point, she points at you and Gojo standing side by side and firmly shakes her head. "Nuh uh. They wouldn't date the likes of you."

A soft smack is heard as Gojo theatrically clutches his chest, stumbling back from where he stands to drape himself over you. "It wounds me to hear you say that Kugisaki." He claims, his expression twisted into one of faux pain. When he turns to face you, his demeanour suddenly switches as he leans in towards your ear, a roughish smile on his face with a faintly seductive lilt to his voice. "Maybe we should kiss to prove that it's true."

"Don't be crude, Satoru, they're your students and they're right in front of us." You try to brush him off of you in an attempt to spare his students from becoming witnesses to their teacher's love for PDA but he doesn't let go of his grip, instead choosing to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck as if trying to coax you to stay with him in his embrace. Like always, you relent to his touch with your fingers carding through his snowy locks, a soft sigh of approval leaving his lips.

There's a beat of silence as Nobara and Yuji try to process what they've just learned and the fact that they've just seen a visual confirmation of it before that peace is shattered and they erupt into a thousand questions. You field all of their burning questions ranging from ones about you to about your relationship with Gojo with grace, amused and endeared by their excitement and insatiable curiosity. Secretly, it warms your heart deeply that Gojo and his students are so comfortable with each other and that he can be himself around them without the pressure of the greater Jujutsu world on his back.

You turn to look at the clock and sigh at how fast time has gone by. "Alright, I'll see you at home Satoru and Megumi." You comment, packing up your belongings as you get ready to leave to attend to some business. Gojo leans down to your height as you place a lingering kiss against his cheek and wave him and his students goodbye.

Unblinking, Yuji and Nobara turn to each other and then to Megumi before they exclaim simultaneously. "You all live together!?"

Oh boy, Megumi knows he's going to be in for an earful with that.

[hells-wasabii]

I’m shamelessly asking for some Carmilla Carmine x fem!reader where reader gets nearly killed during extermination day, maybe severely hurt kind of thing cuz I’m a sucker for angst

A/N: And I am shamelessly answering this wholeheartedly Can I just say that I love Carmilla?? And one can never have enough angst. I went ahead and decided to make it a drabble

A/n's A/N: I came back after finishing this, i really didn't mean for it to get so long. It's not a drabble anymore, it's a short fic. the word count is nearly three times what i usually allot for my drabbles.

Character: Carmilla

Type: Fic (Carmilla x fem!reader injured during extermination, Angst, Fluff)

All it takes is one second. Time meant everything during the annual extermination. If you drop your guard, let yourself get distracted, it could mean certain death. This was something that Carmilla had been extra diligent in teaching her daughters, and something that she had always reminded you, her love, her heart, of constantly.

You would always offer a soft smile of reassurance, pressing a kiss to the overlord's hand.

But things don't always go as planned, do they?

No one expected to get separated.

There had been an explosion that had taken out most of the city block. Some sinner trying to put up a fight before their inevitable demise, her daughters informed her after the fact. She had found Odette and Clara easily, both on the same side of the blast as she had been, but she had lost sight of you. You hadn't been caught in the blast, she knew that for sure. You were durable enough for something as measly as that to not be of much effect, anyhow.

But the fact that she didn't know where you had gone made her nervous. No one was truly safe during the exterminations, only hellborns and the king.

Her blood ran cold when your scream met her ears, her head snapping in the direction.

No.

Carmilla was in motion before her mind could catch up. The arms dealer instinctively ran through the streets littered with death and destruction, Clara and Odette calling after her. It wasn't like their mother to act so impulsively.

Turning the corner, there you were, lying in a slowly growing pool of blood. The arms dealer deflated upon seeing you in such a state. If only she had gotten here sooner. Luckily, the exorcist has gone. Likely to chase down some other damned soul like an animal, she thought bitterly. Skidding to a stop, she dropped to her knees at your side.

You were in a bad state, disheveled, bruised, bloodied. The worst of it appeared to be a rather large stab wound just above your hip, likely from some sort of spear.

But you were still breathing, nonetheless. You could still be saved. Hope bloomed in Carmilla's chest, as she pushed aside your blouse to better reveal the worst of your injuries.

"Girls," Carmilla called out once she was sure that it was safe for them to follow.

As she checked you for other injuries her daughters knelt by her side.

"Mother, here." Clara sounded as frantic as Carmilla felt. The overlord briefly turned to her daughter, surprised to find her taking off her coat to offer her. "To apply pressure," her daughter clarified. Her heart swelled at the action, accepting the coat and pressing it to your wound.

"Look!" Odette called out, and out of the corner of her eye, Carmilla saw her pointing to the sky. "The angels are retreating!"

"She's right!" Clara chimed in, placing a hand on her mother's shoulder, "We should get her back home, then we can tend to the wound properly."

Carmilla had never felt prouder of her daughters, they truly had grown into exceptional young women. She made a mental note to properly thank the both of them once things had settled.

But home was too far away, they would never make it there before you bled out. Lady luck was on your side as the four of you hadn't been too far from one of their safe houses, however, they needed to move quickly before you lost too much blood.

The next hour and a half were a blur. The moment they had unlocked the door to the safe house the Carmines got to work

Your wounds were cleaned and dressed. Carmilla herself had been the one to wash off the blood and dirt that caked your skin and you were laid up in bed. Odette and Clara had left once they were sure you would recover, choosing to give you and their mother space.

The arms dealer couldn't help feeling partially responsible. She thought if only she had been more diligent, and kept you close to her, maybe you wouldn't be left in such a state. The realization hit her, hard. She could have lost you.

"Carmilla?" your voice pulled the overlord from her thoughts. You were awake! In an instant she was by your side, taking your hand in hers.

"It's okay darling, Everything is alright now." You don't answer, at least not with your words. instead, with a grateful smile turning up the corners of your lips, you gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She couldn't help but return the smile, relieved. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Funny, for a moment there, I thought I'd somehow made it to heaven. Mistook you for an angel," you managed out a strained laugh, though you immediately regretted it when a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen. Your smile returned, however, as Carmilla couldn't help but roll her eyes. But you had met your mark, the arms dealer finally let the tension leave her body.

"Mi amore."

"Yes, Carmilla?" You at first thought that the arms dealer was going to scold you for making light of the situation. You never would have expected the next words out of her mouth. She breathed out, gaze softening, her request was barely above a whisper.

"Marry me."

[camilaxmartin]

Good morning (technically, it's like 1am for me rn) but could I request Carmilla and Rosie (separately) with a reader that's like one of those friends that are shy for a bit but then open up after a bit when they're singing with friends or something (I'm not great at explaining stuff so sorry about that). You don't have to right this if you don't want to, but thanks if you decide too. :)

not so shy after all

navigation // rules // masterlist

summary: *request*

warnings: none i think! NOT PROOF READ THO!

notes: just a quick drabble cause that’s what came to my mind!:) hope you’ll like it!

requests: closed!!

୨ৎ | okay so for me personally carmilla would adore your shy personality. i mean? a partner of hers who is calm and doesn’t disturb her in any way? perfection.

୨ৎ | i think she would also adore how you’d just listen to her and not interrupt her or just calmly sit through all the overlords meetings like she doesn’t have to shush you or get mad at you? could you be any more perfect?

୨ৎ | she would also tease you a lot and enjoy how flustered you get while not being able to respond to her. her ego would get massive. and it’d be a nice change to her daughters cause i can’t believe odette and clara are calm little kittens around her

୨ৎ | in conclusion, i think she would adore having a calm and shy partner

୨ৎ | let’s get into the more brave side now

୨ৎ | she would be so shocked the first time you show your more open side and don’t get me wrong, it’s awake something in her

୨ৎ | at first, she would just watch you from distance and enjoy how relaxed you seem chuckling to herself that she haven’t had an idea you had it in you

୨ৎ | and when you’d start singing and be even more yourself (i just went with this form the request) she would chuckle more openly and wait for you to notice her starring

୨ৎ | when you do, she would come over to you and hug you letting you go rather quickly not to stop your relaxing and singing

୨ৎ | i can see her even joining you after some time when she feels more comfortable as well cause for me personally, she’s just like that as well

୨ৎ | give her some time and then the two of you will be singing and dancing to taylor swift (or whatever you like to listen!) at 2am in her kitchen making your own eras tour

୨ৎ | clara and odette would accidentally walk on on you two having fun as they were woken up by you just having fun and as much as clara would giggle and join you almost instantly, odette would just roll her eyes and sit somewhere watching you all having fun together, humming the songs herself, she’s not that strong-

୨ৎ | carmilla would enjoy your brave side but i wouldn’t say she would prefer it more than the shy one just… she’s be happy with whatever you give her to be fair

୨ৎ | when that side would come out on the meetings and actually interrupt her somehow she would send you a warning glance but you’d just roll your eyes at her and that would have her IN SHOOCK

୨ৎ | she would try to compose herself and just get on with the meeting trying to keep calm as much as she possibly could

୨ৎ | after it she would somehow scold you for your ‘outrageous’ behaviour but in reality she would be chuckling to herself all the time while doing so and then tell you to keep that side of you for later when the two of you are alone

୨ৎ | and then, depending on what you’d do, depends the next situation

୨ৎ | if you’d just get flustered and all shy again she’d chuckle once again and wink at you leaving the room and going to her office

୨ৎ | but if your brave side would take over you, probably the two of you would end up aggressively making out in her office as she tries her best to scold you more and doing whatever she has in her power to make it sound like she’s actually scolding you and not just teasing you (no matter how much it turns her on)

୨ৎ | after all, carmilla would be amazing with a partner who’s shy at first cause she isn’t her full self at first as well, and she knows better than anyone what’s it like to let you be yourself and enjoy that side of you:) giving her a solid 10/10 what can i do

❀ | okay so i feel like rosie would be SO interested in you just because you’re all shy

❀ | like i imagine her meeting you for the first time at the overlords meeting and her interest would just flow straight out of the roof

❀ | she’d be like “oh who���s that? and why are they so silent and not doing anything?” she would have her eyes on you ALL THE TIME and i mean REALLY all the time

❀ | after a few times you’d notice her gaze and stare at her too but in a more subtle way just looking at her when she’s not looking or so you think

❀ | many meetings later she would straight up come over to you and ask you out and as you’d get all flustered she’d smile to herself and wait patiently for your response

❀ | you’d nod your head agreeing and she would literally clap her hands in happiness telling you to come over to her place whenever you feel like it

❀ | after a lot of doubting yourself you’d find yourself walking around the cannibal town looking for her house and gently knocking on her door

❀ | she would be all bubbly letting you in and already pouring you tea she’s made earlier

❀ | at first your dates would look exactly like that and exactly the same, just gossiping over tea and her trying to dig deeper and deeper into your personality

❀ | don’t get me wrong, she adores your shyness but there has to be something more there, right?

❀ | and finally when you’d stay the night at her place and feel comfortable enough to be yourself more, rosie would catch you singing in her bedroom when she was supposed to be showering

❀ | she would just watch you from the door adoring how relaxed and comfortable you look just having fun when you think no one’s watching you or just that you can actually act like that in her house

❀ | after a quick moment she would clap her hands when the song ends and you’d turn your head towards her immediately and feel your cheeks blush slightly

❀ | but what she didn’t expect was you coming over to her with your hands out asking her to dance and sing with you

❀ | rosie would be stunned at first but quickly shake it off, grabbing your hands and letting you swing her however you want

❀ | the two of you would have so much fun together that you forget she was supposed to be showering and that’s it’s night already and you should rather calm down than getting it on

❀ | but rosie wouldn’t mind that, she would love that side of you and do anything she can to bring it out more often and even in public

❀ | at the same time she would understand that you just let it come out when you’re comfortable and then she would stop pressuring you to be like that among other people

❀ | but still it’s in her nature to try and bring your authentic side whenever she can however she can

❀ | after the whole dance play in her bedroom she would fall onto her bed while laughing and breathing deeply being tired from all of it

❀ | you’d giggle and lay down next to her as she cups your cheek with her hand stroking it softly and giving your forehead a soft peck, smiling to you and doing it even wider than usual

❀ | after all i don’t think she would mind a shy partner but also would adore your more open side as she is very open and confident herself

❀ | i’d give her a solid 9/10 for the bit of her trying to bring it out rather more than she should

[fbfh]

older!logan x reader hcs

wc: 1.6k

genre: age gap, sort of sugar daddy logan

warnings: big (but legal) age gap, logan is early 40s reader is like early 20s, brief odette mention, logan is a killer lawyer, rory kinda traumatized Logan lol, I haven't finished gilmore girls or ayitl yet so don't come for me lol, logan is obsessedddddddd with reader, mildly smutty, mentions of marriage and proposals, your relationship progresses really quickly

summary: you were reading in a coffee shop when a charming gorgeous much older guy decided to strike up a conversation. little do you know that within a very short time that same charming stranger will know your dress size, your shoe size, and your ring size.

song rec: off to the races - lana del rey

a/n: the choke hold older logan has on me..... euthanize me at this point lmao

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280

As with all nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+ (like way over 18 in logan’s case lol)

That being said jesus christ let’s dive right into the brain rot

First things first, a little more about Logan

He’s in his early 40’s and aging like a fine goddamn wine

MEGA MEGA dilf vibes

After the whole millions of dollars sunken into a bad investment in his family’s massive media conglomerate mishap, he still faced a lot of pressure to join the family business

But with Rory rejecting his proposal, he felt so fucking down and beaten up by life

He just had two massive blows to his ego back to back

And he needed a win

Then the strangest thing happened 

He just got back from another late night of partying with his friends and switched on the tv so he wouldn’t have to fall asleep with his thoughts, and some random movie was playing

The girl in the movie is at dinner with her boyfriend and thinks he’s going to propose, but he breaks up with her instead

It hits a little too close to home and Logan’s about to switch it off

Then she decides to go to law school to prove herself

He finds himself getting more and more invested in this movie, relating more to Elle with every scene, and by the morning he confronts the idea he’s been shoving away for too long so he doesn’t rock the boat

He talks to his dad and they decide Logan will go to law school, but remain a prominent board member and shareholder of the family company

Mitchum is surprised by how responsible and well thought out Logan’s plan is

He’s forging a path to a very lucrative field - one Mitchum can tell he’s going to be very successful in - while still staying involved enough in the family business 

So Logan goes off to law school, and 20 years later he’s a total shark 

He’s a prestigious, expensive lawyer with a reputation for never losing and a long streak of killing it with really high profile cases

Now the Huntzberger name carries all the weight and power of his father’s media reach, and Logan’s success in the courtroom 

He’s excelling 

And he’s excelling enough to keep his family out of his personal life for a while 

He’s living the bachelor life until he hits 40

That’s when his parents decide it’s really unacceptable that he’s still not married 

So they tell him if he doesn’t get married soon they’ll arrange something

Some french heiress or something 

And Logan finds himself right back where he didn’t want to be

And then, like a gift from god, he sees you

Like I said in my initial drabble, Logan first saw you in a cafe reading some dusty novel no one actually reads like war and peace or crime and punishment or something

He's seen people your age do that before, reading complicated stuffy literature to seem smart and make some pretentious English class commentary that barely makes sense 

So he calls you on it

"War and Peace, huh?"

He’s expecting you to say something fake and pretentious

Some bullshit fake deep pseudo intellectual shit

But you look up at him, only pausing for a moment before you speak

You’re surprised to see such a gorgeous guy in a little cafe like this

Especially one that seems interested in talking to you

And god, the way you talk about it

The way your eyes light up

It takes him by surprise

He's not just interested

He's invested 

You start talking and realize that you've been talking for way longer than you expected to

And he wants more

He wants to know more about you, wants to see you sweet smile and hear your cute little laugh when he says something charming or compliments you

So he takes you out to dinner, his treat 

He guides you out the door and into his Porsche with his hand on your back 

It's a subtle gesture but it makes your stomach flip 

Then he buckles your seat belt for you

If you weren't sold before you sure are by now 

So he takes you to this nice fancy restaurant, wines and dines you, and he is laying on the charm thick

"Oh, come on. A pretty young thing like you must have a boyfriend."

"Really, you have excellent taste.”

You don’t miss the way he’s been eyeing you all night

And he doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your thighs together when he touches your face or plays with your fingers

One thing leads to another and after he pays the bill and leaves a generous tip, you find him ushering you back into his porsche

And yet again he closes your door for you and gets you all buckled in

This time when he drives his hand rests on your knee

He thinks he can handle this

He’s the biggest whore on the east coast /affectionate 

Then you grab his hand and move it up your thigh

There’s no going back now

He’s in just as deep as you are

Before you know it you’re tearing off each other’s clothes

His lips are all over you and motherfucker does he know what he’s doing

He worried for a moment he might have lost his edge

But as he lays you down into his big soft bed, your skin touching his silky sheets for the first time

But definitely not the last

As he finally touches you and feels how wet you are for him

He knows he didn’t peak in college

“Shh, listen,” he says between kisses that make you feel dizzy, “you’re gonna tell me if it’s too much for you, can you do that?”

You nod while he holds your face in his big hands

“You gotta say it,” he chuckles at how sweet you are, how well you respond to him, “use your words, baby…” 

You manage to choke out a desperate yes between kisses that makes his stomach twist

And that is the very beginning to your intense affair with Logan Huntzberger 

He’s desperate to see you again

He sends flowers and a dress and a gorgeous necklace to your apartment

And not the normal amount of flowers

The Logan amount of flowers

So a lot

And you can’t believe your luck finding a hot rich older guy that’s so into you 

You really like this attention

Your daddy issues are SCREAMING

And Logan likes having someone as gorgeous and intelligent and into him as you are

And he wants to do this right

But he’s rapidly approaching the deadline his family set

He doesn’t want to scare you off

GOD that’s the last thing he wants

But he is terrified of proposing and having it end up like it did the last time

Eventually he works up the nerve to talk to you about it 

He’s explaining everything to you while you pay your bills 

But it says they’re already paid

And your credit cards are paid off

And your debt has just disappeared

Even your student loans are gone

And there’s a fat deposit in your checking account 

He paid off all your debt and didn’t tell you

By the time he’s done explaining that you basically either need to get married asap or you can’t see each other anymore he still hasn’t brought it up

And you realize he’s not going to

He didn’t pay your bills to guilt you into anything

He’s not holding it over your head

He’s taking care of you

And all you’ve ever wanted is someone who will take care of you

Logan is surprised when you agree

But he’s even more surprised at how fast you agree

You sit in his lap and end up rambling about how much you love him, how you don’t think you’ll ever find anyone you like as much as him or anyone that treats you as well as he does

To no one’s surprise the conversation ends with him taking you on every surface of your apartment

Hours later you’re cuddling naked on your couch, resting your head on his muscular chest and listening to his heartbeat

“So like… are we engaged now?” you ask looking up at him

He laughs sweetly

“No, not yet. I have to actually propose first.”

You think back to your conversation earlier when you first said you’d want to marry him

“So that didn’t count before?”

His heart breaks at how little you ask for

“No, that didn’t count.” He kisses your head, “I’m going to take you out somewhere nice, give you a proper proposal, with a nice ring.”

You get butterflies thinking about it

You can’t believe how much he does for you

How much he wants to do for you 

You’re quiet for a moment, and he can feel you smiling into his chest

“...Okay.” 

Your voice is so small and bashful, and he can hear you suppressing a flustered giggle

Fuck he can’t get enough of you 

He laughs and pulls you closer, grabbing your chin and makes you look up at him so he can kiss you 

You fall asleep in his arms

And you think that you won’t mind being married so young if it’s Logan you’re marrying

Logan is looking at you with so much love and adoration

And right before he falls asleep 

He thinks that maybe it’s not too late for him to find love after all

[artstatues]

Slow dancing in the dark. - l.k × g.h

wc : 553

pairings : lyra kane x grayson hawthorne, from the inheritance games.

synopsis : lyra kane stays up late in the library to solve some clues. thats until the game master walks in and asks for a dance.

warnings : nothing??

a/n : idk, i guess you can count this as a second part of this fic, but thats up to you. anyways, its not proofread bc i think this is a bit more of a drabble.

taglist : @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader, @lxvebelle, @kozumesphone, @sophiesonlinediary, @shuhuaspookie, @off-to-the-r4ces, @pockyyasii, @starrynightsxo, @urbanflorals.

Lyra hunched over to get a better view of the picture on her laptop. The picture contained a clue, an unsolved riddle she took a picture of. It was hidden somewhere in the island’s mansion, she was sure she was the first person to find the clue, but Rohan was also pretty clever– no, very clever. Knox Landry and Odette Morales were a close third. No one shared clues, not even Odette, who Lyra could call a friend in the game, supposedly. She had snuck into the Game Master’s office for this clue. Where he’d caught her, unfortunately.

The library was dimly lit, since it was late at night. Lyra’s sleeping schedule went downhill after joining the game, but the things she could get done and the riddles she could solve while others were sleeping were truly an advantage. The door to the library creaked open, it would always creak, the sort of creak that’d scratch your ears, which was quite odd for a new building. Lyra turned her head towards the person. The game master. He was in something else than a suit, which caused Lyra to tilt her head and raise an eyebrow. “Did you find anything amusing, Miss Kane?” Grayson strode closer towards her, pulling out the chair across her. “Your choice of fashion, Game Master.” She addressed his title mockingly. He was wearing a navy sweatshirt, large letters spelling “HARVARD” across the sweatshirt. He was also wearing a pair of joggers. If any other person caught a glimpse of his outfit, they’d label it as pajamas, but was Lyra wearing anything fancy? No. Lyra sat there with a band tee and shorts, her hair pulled into a somewhat of a bun.

Grayson placed his elbow on the table, where his chin rested on his palm, admiring Lyra. She hasn’t muttered a single word except a few curses here and there. Where Lyra found his ‘choice of fashion’ amusing, he found her brows furrowing, her little whispers of curses, and her groans amusing to watch. It was a lovely and utterly beautiful spectacle. He had a teasing smirk on his face. “Stop smirking at me Davenport. You already know the answers, it isn’t fair.” Lyra remarked. Grayson only raised an eyebrow in sarcasm, “I do, but I also do admit watching you is quite a spectacle.” He gave a soft, pleasing smile. Lyra glared, confusing Grayson. “What? Oh, in a good way– I mean.” Grayson assured.

“Would you like to dance–?” Grayson blurted out of the complete blue. “What?” Lyra furrowed her eyebrows in surprise. “I said–” Grayson tried to repeat himself before Lyra cut him off. “No, I heard what you said. Just– that was a bit random.” Lyra slowly closed her laptop and finally got up from the chair after hours. Lyra hesitatedly opened her phone and played a song. “I’m assuming you meant slow dance?” She smiled. “Yes.” Grayson stepped closer, and closer. His hands snaked around her waist while Lyra’s went to his shoulder. A soft smile was plastered on the pair’s faces.

Lyra never took Grayson Hawthorne to be a dancer, of all people. The couple slowly spun around the room, enjoying the company of the other person.

After all, they were only two people; The Game Master, and the player, somehow lucky enough to coexist.

[twstjam]

Black Fire

Quick drabble because I was thinking about the importance of love to dragons in twst but also in Barbie's version of the Swan Lake, where Odette is weakened because her lover professed his love to someone else. So, I decided to combine the two :) Pairing: Malleyuu/Malleus x Reader Setting: Ambiguous. Non-canon Warnings: Hurt no comfort. Not proofread.

---

Dragons are known as possibly the most powerful beings in Twisted Wonderland. They are possessive, selfish, with an even more fearsome temper to boot.

So who could've guessed that a dragon's biggest strength and weakness is love?

Not anyone and especially not you. You hadn't even known Tsunotarou was a dragon until almost a year after a meeting him, until after almost three months of having been planted the seeds of affection for him within you.

You should've been able to guess. After all, love and companionship are important things to him, more important than even his beloved gargoyles. It's obvious in the way he keeps his family close; how he recalls memories of Silver's youth fondly, is endeared by Sebek's overzealousness, and hangs onto Lilia's every word. It's obvious in how he wraps himself around you, leaning his chest against your back and looping his arms around your torso and purrs in delight at your acceptance of his affection. Obvious in how he gifts you little trinkets from his expansive collection of memorabilia, how he had put effort into appeasing your friends with gifts that suited their interests when he had unintentionally upset them. He is possessive and selfish just like the stories say, but despite being these things, he still allows your friends to steal your time, has even begun to grow closer to them himself too.

You should've been able to guess just how precious love was to him. How dearly he holds it in his heart. How dearly he holds you in his heart. How, even though he sneaks glances at you and brushes your hand fleetingly in ways that he does with no one else and boldly visits you uninvited, you should not have dismissed his behavior as mere eagerness.

It shouldn't have taken you this long to realise Malleus's feelings. Shouldn't have taken him inviting you into a room overlooking his lush rose garden to realise that your blossoming feelings are reciprocated.

When Malleus confesses to you, looks into your eyes and captivates you with the glow of his green irises, you finally put the pieces together and see it, the intensity of his feelings for you that have itself taken form a gorgeous bloom that rivals the roses of his cherished garden.

You're so amazed, enchanted by him like you always are, that you barely notice the cacophony of squeaking bats outside the window.

You're watching Malleus closely, taking in every inch of his flawless features. His eyes are hesitant, his head tilted slightly away from you and a handkerchief held over his glossy lips in an almost shy manner that makes your heart flutter with endearment.

"Do you accept my feelings?" he murmurs.

Your chest feels so pleasantly warm that it almost feels as if you might be melting from the inside-out. You reach out your hand and the commotion outside is like white noise to you as Malleus accepts your hand and your fingers entertwine. They fit perfectly against each other, and nothing has ever felt more right.

You take a soft, shuddering breath, hold it within you like something holy, and use it to utter the precious words:

"I do. I love you too. I always have."

Malleus smiles, so big and wide, and the delicate breath instead escapes in a startled gasp at the way his bright eyes darken into a deep emerald.

"I had hoped you'd say that."

Your head snaps toward the windows, finally hearing the bats screech in alarm. Your eyes are drawn down to the garden, where the roses wilt and die right as the magic within them drains before your very eyes.

You tug your hand out of his and stumble back in horror. The expression he's making is so wrong on Malleus's face, his lips pulling back to bare his teeth in a triumphant grin, his eyes wide and cruel.

"Who are you?!" you scream at the impostor. "Where's Malleus?!"

"That doesn't matter now!" the man laughs wickedly. Orange fire engulfs his body, the heat making you wince, and a white-haired man, wide-eyed and manic, looks back at you with a mocking smile. "You already confessed your love to me. Thanks to you, darling, that evil master of the abyss can now be vanquished!"

The windows burst open and the bats swarm in, squealing in anguish. Rollo Flamm merely laughs as he's engulfed in flame once again and disappears before they reach him. You're left standing stunned and horrified, listening to the fading sound of his laughter, before the bats begin to claw at you to grab your attention.

You don't question the bats as they lead you. You follow them, so frantic that you trip over yourself, and nearly fall to your knees when you leave into an empty hallway and see Malleus sprawled on the floor, unmoving, his robes scattered around him like spilled ink.

"No!" the agonized scream comes out of you unbidden, and you do fall to your knees once you've reached Malleus's side. You cradle his face in shaking hands, and your heart twists at how cold his skin feels. His eyes are closed and he's breathing but it's slow, as well as his pulse, as if he's merely in a deep sleep. You know he isn't, because the familiar energy of his magic electrifying the air isn't present. Instead, you can feel it draining with each passing second.

A dragon's biggest strength is love, but it is also his weakness.

You should've been able to guess—You should've noticed. It shouldn't have taken you holding Malleus's weakening body in your arms to realise that—

Malleus Draconia is in love with you, but because of that love, when you had professed your love to another, you had also thrown away all his magic just as you had thrown away his heart.

[velidewrites]

Okay let me just say I love everything you've done with your Vanbros it's got me sooo invested. AND THE FANART? Chef's kiss.

As a resident Sylas girlie I gotta ask; Could you see Sylas in a one sided competitive streak with a love interest? Like they beat him in a fight once when they were kids and they never really think about it that much but it haunts him. He's developed an infinite grudge. He sees them again decades later and he's like "How dare you think you're better than me (and also be hot while doing so)". I feel like someone who doesn't give in to his provocations would piss him off so bad, especially if he wants their attention. He would annoy the shit out of them until he got a reaction he wanted that's just the vibe he gives me. And if that reaction involved them putting their hands on him well then all the better for his touch starved ass.

Sorry for the rant I am lowkey obsessed with this man.

Oh one hundred PERCENT. My favorite Sylas x Reader scenario is them fighting on opposing sides of a war, where Sylas falls immediately after getting his ass kicked by reader. He doesn't realize this at first, of course, convinced he only thinks about her because his reputation is now tarnished and his honor MUST be reclaimed. But every subsequent encounter leaves more and more thoughts in the mess that's his mind, and the pull of attraction eventually becomes undeniable. I've written a small drabble around this scenario some time ago here which I've completely forgotten about until I saw your ask lol THANK YOU

And I adore the idea of this conflict going all the way back into their childhood oh my GOD; I can picture Sylas being literally haunted by losing for YEARS and promising himself to get back at her when their paths cross again. I don't know if you've ever seen The Swan Lake but it's VERY Derek x Odette coded where they were childhood nemeses and then one day Derek sees Odette has grown into literally the most beautiful woman he's ever seen and he's like MARRIAGE? PLEASE? God even his and Sylas's haircuts are kind of similar OH MY GOD HAVE I BEEN INFLUENCED?

[noctunis]

cloud strife who has no idea how to celebrate birthdays.. who’s a little dense as to what you want.. so when the week of your birthday comes, he’s extra vigilant on hearing any hints you drop around him — except it gets to a point where almost ANYTHING you mention will be given to you on your birthday no matter what context you talked about it in. . . he means well though, can u tell he’s never done this before

[gatheredfates]

QUIZ: VILLIAN TYPE ✧˖°.

Tagged by the lovely @archaiclumina! We all knew I was going to do my og bad bitch, the love of my life. (It also gave me an excuse to use this picture I took for a drabble I never finished).

Then Let Me Be Evil

You never wanted to hurt anyone, but the world never gave you a choice. You did the best you could with what you had, but every innocent mistake you made was held against you when it counted, every crossroads led you down the wrong path no matter which way you went. No matter what you did, the odds were stacked against you. It wasn't fair, and you are sick and tired of being told what a monster you are for things out of your control. Well, fine. They want a monster? YOU'LL GIVE THEM A MONSTER!

Okay, DAMN, you don't need to read my character for filth. I will say I think the only thing El would fundamentally disagree on is the initial 'you never wanted to hurt anyone', only because she's conditioned herself to believe violence is an amicable answer, but I also think that in itself is a cover and the result of trauma after trauma that Ishgard inflicts.

When you're told that you're an outsider no matter what — no matter the money, the power, the prestige, the honour! — it's little wonder one might spit in their faces. When you see the hypocrisy and you're told it's not your place to question it... no wonder you turn a little evil.

I think she's allowed. I think she should kill men for fun. I give her permission.

Tagging: @riftdancing (I stare into your eyes. Blink.), @atupda, @sharlayanscion, @hares-and-hounds, @ubejamjar

@thewitchofelpis, @this-is-ris, @thefreelanceangel (I know you have ocs), @thefrostflower (same with you), @oh-yeah-no (for either Odette or Prudence!)

@sugarsagecat, @theboundlesslight, @valdiis, @zylphiacrowley, @halikyon and you!

PEPPER JUST TOLD ME I DIDN'T PUT THE QUIZ IN, IT'S HERE.

If you'd like a chance of being tagged, you can like my permanent interaction call here!

[winterwitch-trash]

Never mess with a Mafia Lord - Series Masterlist

( Credit for the gif goes to @viperbarnes )

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: " A moment of peace. " Chapter 3: " All hell breaks loose."

Chapter 4: "Broken."

Chapter 5: "Nightmares."

Chapter 6: “You’re dead.”

Chapter 7: "The calm after the storm."

Chapter 8: "I've awakened the beast..."

~Moments~ (How it all started between Bucky and Odette) A series of drabbles exploring the relationship between the Mobster and his wife) ~ First Meeting ~

[rose-riot-johnson]

Have you heard of “Carmela Carmine” the weapons dealer from the Amazon series “Hazbin Hotel” I have a cute idea about what if Mr. Compress was dating Carmela Carmine? And one day after that whole “Overhaul incident” and the LOV had to regroup Compress called her after the incident, and what all happened an hour later after they regroup, Carmela sent out her daughters Clara and Odette showed up With the amputated arm for Compress (and cue the rest of the LOV meeting his girlfriend’s daughters😅) and the girls explained that Carmela and them were worried and that they want to help take down overhaul For all the shit he’s done.😅

Your request sounds fun to try writing😃👍While I have written a fanfic about Mr Compress being the staring character, writing about Carmilla (and her daughters) definitely makes the request really interesting💡😃Considering that I really wanted to go through with writing atleast something that is a crossover fanfic, while having history of writing plenty of My Hero Academia fanfics, and wanting to write a fanfic pertianing any of the characters from Hazbin Hotel and/or Helluva Boss this request is definitely going to shake things up with me writing fanficsin a good way😃👍I'm really excited to try writing this fanfic out to see how this turns out😁👍

💐🟢A Misunderstanding Without Any Problems, Except Overhaul 🟢💐(Mr Compress, Real Name, Atsuhiro Sako (My Hero Academia) x Carmilla Carmine (Featuring her daughters, Clara and Odette) (Hazbin Hotel)

Genres: Ship drabble that features one of the character's and crossover fanfic (Warning ⚠️: Language)

When Mr Compress and Carmilla Carmine fist met they were childhood friends, however they started dating months before the he joined Tomura Shigaraki. Ofcourse both Mr Compress and Carmilla Carmine are very aware of eachother's occupation and stuff (up to reader's imagination, if Mr Compress knew if Carmilla had daughters at the time). While Mr Compress' relationship with Carmilla isn't perfect, they're so compatible (and have so much chemistry) it's really obvious that they're meant for eachother, as if they're eachother's soulmates.

One day Mr Compress had to call Carmilla about what everything that happened with the Overhaul situation the (day or night) before he called her. He even told her the League Of Villains had to regroup from everything that happened, especially what Overhaul did to him. After the call she was livid... She was not happy for what Overhaul did to the League Of Villains, she was very aggravated to hear Mr Compress told her what Overhaul did to him.

There are things that meant alot to her, including her daughters, Zestial, and her boyfriend Mr Compress, and she felt anywho whos messes with anyone or anything precious to her, including the her daughters, Zestial, and Mr Compress, she will make these culprits pay. So, considering that Overhaul fucked with Mr Compress and the League Villains (considering that Mr Compress is part of the League Of Villains), there's going to be hell to pay in Overhaul's case, so she decided to send her daughters Clara and Odette to make Overhaul pay for fucking with to her boyfriend Mr Compress and (the rest of the members of) the League Of Villains.

After the League Of Villains (including Mr Compress) defeated Overhaul in another incident involving interfering with the police taking him to a prison, Mr Compress went shopping for some tea and as he was just about to call Carmilla that the "(Overhaul) pest issue" was tooken cared of, both of her daughters asking him about killing Overhaul for fucking with him (and League Of Villains). He asked who they are, before they answered that they're her daughters Clara and Odette, which (up to the reader's imagination if Mr Compress was aware of Carmilla had daughters prior to him meeting them), then he introduces himself as Atsuhiro Sako, then telling them that they can call him Mr Compress. He took her daughters to the hideout where the other members of League Of Villains are in.

Mr Compress then introduce his girlfriend's daughters to the rest of the League Of Villains, then her daughters, Clara and Odette explained that they and their mother Carmilla are worried about the League Of Villains (her boyfriend Mr Compress included) and how they want to make Overhaul pay for all of the hell he put Mr Compress and the rest of the members of The League Of Villains through. So, all of the members of the League Of Villains had to explain that they have tooken cared of the problem on every member of the League Of Villains, including Mr Compress explained everything and every word on how they have took down Overhaul and how they made Overhaul's life hell.

Months afterwards, Mr Compress had married Carmilla, meaning they are husband and wife, while her daughters Clara and Odette become Mr Compress' step daughters. So, not only Carmilla and her daughters become the part of the of the League Of Villains (who Mr Compress low key considers family), Mr Compress has also become part of a family of four: Mr Compress, Carmilla, and her daughters (Clara and Odette). So, as Carmilla and her daughters became new members of the League Of Villains and Mr Compress becoming part of Carmilla's family, the rest of the members League of Villains, Mr Compress, his wife Carmilla, and her daughters (Clara and Odette), became one big happy family.

🟢💐The End💐🟢

Okay my Tumblr Peeps I hope you enjoyed this crossover fanfic😃👍As for you @supernatural-hunter1 I hope I have written the Mr Compress x Carmilla fanfic well💐🟢😁👍I hope it was alright if I tag you😅Anyways, I did start writing ship drabbles with the bullited list, since writing a Naruto Shippuden ship drabble pertaining a particular ship, which was why I have written this ship like that. I did have fun writing this crossover fanfic and I hope you had fun reading the fanfic, as well😁👍

[lieslab]

ok so just drop the most saddest and happiest fic of all time and leave it there. ok

And what about it? 🤨 I'm kidding. Fanfic writers can drag their readers to the pits of hell and then fling them into the sun for the fun of it. Despite some of the angst, it was really nice to write certain scenes. Sometimes I feel really maternal and think all my problems would be solved by holding a newborn, so writing that really satisfied the deep rooted maternal instinct within me.

Actually, it just made me really want to write a second part to the Chan drabble I created where the reader left him and had his kid alone. I really want to make that drabble with little miss Odette Berry long, just like I made this Minho drabble. Maybe within the next week or two, I'll write it between requests and the few fics I've already written