#intelligent and obsessive and ICE COLD

[attractthecrows]

Azimir Kaassimolar

By all rights, he should be a surgeon, a scientist or doctor of great renown. He has the knowledge, the temperament, the drive. He knows the anatomical quirks of all the sapient races, as well as most beasts & monsters. He's quick-witted, contemplative, and completely unflappable. As a frontline trauma surgeon, he is peerless. But Azimir Kaassimolar is Bhaalspawn, wrought of Bhaal's own flesh, animated by the unholy ichor of Bhaal's own blood. He is the favored son of the Lord of Murder; to save lives would be antithetical.

His casual clothes as listed:

underwear

stockings

linen shirt (white, black, or gray)

shirt cuffs

cotton or silk trousers (summer short, winter long)

cinch belt

châtelaine (pencil, knife, buttonhook, notebook)

shoes - caligae or barefoot

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with John MacTavish:

Johnny flirting with you. Endlessly. Since the moment he first met you. Even now, long after you two made it official, Johnny flirts with you every chance you get.

Being embroiled in a never-ending prank war with Johnny. The last one was calling Johnny by his full name just to watch those pretty blues widen, those brows shoot up, and worriedly asking you what's wrong. You got him good.

To piggyback off the last point, if you call him by his full name, he'll retort that it's Johnny, not John. Whenever you get angry with him and shout, "JOHN MACTAVISH!," he suddenly has something he needs to do and makes himself scarce.

Since we're piggybacking again, an everyday conversation with Soap can sometimes start like this: "Johnny." "Bonnie." "Hey, Johnny?" "...Hey, bonnie?" "...John MacTavish." "It's Johnny." Lovable doofus.

(For all my BG3 lovers out here) Joking around with Johnny after doing the horizontal tango. When he asks you how you liked it, you reply, "Oh, it was fine. ❤️" Fine, bonnie? Fine? Soap is processing this betrayal that man was never meant to know while you're trying not to laugh. Oh, he'll show you fine. Another round later and, "So how was it, Johnny?" "Oh, it was fine, bonnie. ❤️" And thus your first sex joke of many was born.

Johnny is just about barred from the bathroom every time you shower because you won't get any showering done. You have been bamboozled one too many by his claim that he "just wants to help clean you up".

Hurricane Johnny hitting your bed. Every time. You go to sleep and you wake up not knowing what the hell happened. You can sleep on your respective sides at night and come morning, Johnny has cocooned himself around you. Sometimes, your Labrador Whiskey hops up in bed and you wake up to Soap in the middle with an arm around Whiskey who's snoring away on the other side. Sometimes you wake to Johnny asleep under pillows you don't even remember being on the bed the night before.

Loving when Johnny's hair grows out on the sides because it's curly and just adds to the rugged Golden Retriever bad-boy schtick he has going on. That and his hair is soft. You two have talked about him possibly growing it out into a burst fade mullet and, quite frankly, he'd look amazing with it.

Whenever you and Johnny argue, you take some space to cool down but can never stay away for too long. Y'all make up on some, "Johnny?" "...Bonnie?" "Love you." "Love you, too." type stuff. The makeup sex is the icing on the cake.

You and Johnny being the ride-or-die couple. You two are extremely protective of each other. No one hurts your John-John (the way he grimaces whenever you call him that) and gets away with it.

You can never understand how your man, John MacTavish, intelligent and resourceful as all hell, a genius of a soldier who has endured all sorts of injuries and refused to stay in bed with all of them, can get knocked down on his ass and stay on his ass because of a cold. A cold. It's like he's dying and the world's ending, bonnie.

Johnny always having an arm around your waist whenever he possibly can. Always. Or his chin on your shoulder as he holds you from behind. 'Cause he loves touching you. He's obsessed with you.

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #15

They were never supposed to be real.

Danny wasn’t born; he was built—stitched together in a freezing underground HYDRA lab from the broken DNA strands of James Buchanan Barnes, chosen not for loyalty or legacy but for blood. Something about Winter’s cells held a resilience no other subject had survived, even after decades on ice and countless mental fractures. Danny was Subject 077—barely more than a theory made flesh. A prototype for a new line of enhanced operatives. Something that could endure everything and obey nothing but the cold voice of a handler.

Jazz was worse. She was art. Red Room engineering at its most elegant and most horrifying. A near-perfect clone of Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, born of Black Widow blood but grown under their sharp hands and sharper scalpel. Jazz had beauty, poise, intelligence. But she was also an apex predator molded in ballet and murder, just like her source. She had been created to be the final evolution of Widow. A sleeper. An infiltrator. A masterpiece in patience and destruction.

They were never supposed to meet.

But then Vlad happened.

Dr. Vladimirov Masterov—Vlad Masters—was a ghost in every way that mattered. Once KGB, always KGB. They said he’d died during a failed mission in Chernobyl. He hadn’t. He’d gone half-dead. Half-ghost. A twisted result of an experiment gone wrong, his molecules phasing just enough to slip between states. He’d taken the failure personally, refused to fade. Instead, he rose again in America, as Vlad Masters, eccentric billionaire and corporate ghoul. But behind every charity gala and mayoral campaign was a hunger to perfect the science that had torn him in half.

Vlad had overseen Jazz’s earliest combat assessments. He’d taught Danny how to fire a Glock at age six. His affection was obsessive. Paternal in that twisted, post-Soviet way that smelled like iron and vodka. “You’re my legacy, my little phantoms,” he’d murmur, his gloved hand stroking Danny’s hair, like petting a favorite lab rat. He loved them the way a butcher loves the knife.

Jack Fenton—Jakob Fentzen—was worse. A HYDRA scientist with a permanent manic grin and a knack for building machines that did things no machine should. Quantum destabilizers, molecular disruptors, spectral centrifuges—things that turned flesh to glass and time to mist. He’d been the one to isolate the Winter Soldier’s regenerative traits. He laughed through the process. He called Danny “Champ” while inserting tracking chips into his spinal cord. Danny screamed, once. Jack said it was music.

Maddie—Maja Vuković—was quieter. Colder. Her notes were written in blood and brilliance. She designed Jazz’s conditioning routines. Psychological torment dressed up as ballet recitals and etiquette dinners. Jazz learned to disassociate by age four. “You’re perfect,” She would say, brushing Jazz’s red-gold hair. “Natalia was the draft. You are the final copy.”

And then something went wrong.

It was supposed to be a routine exposure. Just a test of the ghost portal Vlad had constructed in the basement of the Fenton Works facility—a decaying front in the Midwest. But Danny fell in. Or was pushed. Or ran. The records blurred.

And then he came back…wrong.

Cells mutated. Energy readings off the charts. Intangibility. Invisibility. An ectoplasmic core that pulsed like a dying star. Not just an assassin now—an anomaly. A walking ghost. They called it a miracle. Vlad called it divinity. Jack wanted to vivisect him immediately.

Danny refused.

That was the mistake.

They underestimated the side effects of individuality. The ghost powers weren’t part of the program. And with them came emotion, conscience, defiance.

They tried to recondition him. Vlad struck him. Maddie drugged him. Jack built something with screaming blades.

Jazz broke protocol. She slit two guards’ throats with a dining knife and pulled Danny out of the operating room. He was barely conscious, bleeding green and crying. She whispered to him the way Natalia might have whispered to herself in a Red Room dormitory: “We go now. Or we die here.”

They went.

They ran.

For three years, the world forgot about the Fenton kids. Until they didn’t.

The Avengers found out during a HYDRA base raid in Belarus. Steve Rogers opened a data file and dropped it like it burned. Natasha Romanoff stared at Jazz’s image and fell silent for an hour. Bucky Barnes had to be sedated after reading Danny’s file.

“A clone?” Bucky rasped, restrained and shaking. “Of me?”

“HYDRA’s final Winter Soldier prototype,” Bruce murmured. “He’s a ghost. Literally. His molecular structure—”

“I don’t care about his molecules!” Bucky exploded. “He’s just a kid. My fucking kid!”

Steve looked pale. “They’re so young...”

“They’re us,” Natasha said quietly, staring at Jazz’s face on the screen. “Our blood. Our sins. Our ghosts.”

They scrambled, but the trail was cold. Danny and Jazz had buried themselves deep. They moved from safehouse to safehouse, mostly living like rats. Danny phased them through walls, hacked ATMs with his ghost energy. Jazz manipulated human behavior like a maestro. They didn’t speak much. They didn’t have to.

“You okay?” Danny would ask.

“No,” Jazz would say. “But you?”

“No.”

Still, they stayed alive.

Until they slipped up.

It was a gas station. A security camera. A moment of laughter—Danny made Jazz laugh, and her teeth showed. That smile ended everything.

Tony saw it first. “Is that the Fenton girl? She’s…smiling.”

Natasha was on her feet before the footage ended. “Get the quinjet.”

Steve was right behind her. “We find them. Now.”

When they did, it was ugly.

The Avengers cornered them in an abandoned church in Chicago. Danny nearly brought the roof down. Jazz went straight for Natasha’s throat.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Natasha pleaded, parrying the blade with bare hands.

“Then you’re already weak,” Jazz snarled.

Steve took a punch from Danny that shattered his ribs. Bucky didn’t fight. He just stood there, tears on his face.

“I know what they did to you,” he whispered.

“You don’t,” Danny hissed, half-ghost and glowing. “You don’t know what it’s like to be built to die.”

“I do.” Bucky stepped forward, arms open. “They made me too, and I remember every scream.”

Danny hesitated.

That was enough.

Jazz disarmed Natasha and froze.

“You look like my nightmares,” she whispered. “But quieter.”

“You look like a second chance,” Natasha said, and her voice broke.

That night, the church became a refugee camp.

Tony brought blankets. Bruce brought meds. Steve brought silence. Bucky and Natasha never left their sides.

“Don’t touch me,” Danny had growled at first.

“I won’t,” Bucky said. “I’ll just be here.”

Jazz refused food until Natasha force-fed her soup and whispered lullabies in Russian.

“You’ll kill me eventually,” Jazz muttered.

“No,” Natasha said, brushing her hair. “I’ll love you first.”

It wasn’t easy.

Danny screamed in his sleep, glowing and flailing. Once he phased into the floor and didn’t come back for three hours. Jazz stopped speaking for two weeks. She stared at walls. Cut herself just to feel.

Natasha stitched every wound.

Bucky sat beside Danny and read him books about World War II.

“You’re not him,” Danny said one day. “You’re not my father.”

“No,” Bucky agreed. “But I wish I’d been.”

Steve took them outside. Taught Jazz how to ride a bike. Let Danny fly circles around the compound.

But one day, Vlad showed up again.

He appeared in Danny’s room, phasing through the wall like smoke. “Come home, little badger.”

Danny shrieked and attacked. Vlad didn’t fight.

“I miss you,” he said, bleeding green from his mouth. “They won’t understand you like I do.”

“You’re not real,” Danny screamed. “You never were!”

Jazz shot him in the chest. He smiled.

“Perfect aim. I taught you well.”

He vanished.

After that, they didn’t sleep for a week.

One morning, Danny sat beside Bucky on the roof.

“Do you think I’ll ever be normal?”

“No,” Bucky said honestly. “Though you’ll be loved.”

Jazz, curled in Natasha’s lap, asked, “Was I always going to be a monster?”

“No,” Natasha whispered. “You were always going to be mine.”

They weren’t cured.

They were wreckage.

But they were surviving.

And for now, that was enough.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.

Sorry for the bad English

Don't apologize

You're perf, babes

Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White

CW: Death, obsessive behavior

"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.

Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.

The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.

But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.

"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."

The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"

King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.

"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."

Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.

"Show me my hunter, again."

The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.

At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.

Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.

His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.

"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.

The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.

"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.

Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"

"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."

The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.

"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."

"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"

He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.

"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.

Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."

Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.

Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."

King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.

He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.

"Send for my hunter."

Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.

"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"

(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."

"You understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes, your highness."

He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.

Kill my son."

Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"

"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.

The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.

"As you wish, your highness."

Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?

He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.

(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.

What would the king do, if he was made a fool?

"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"

And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.

They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.

The first was after they took the life of the Queen.

"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.

"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.

"What?"

"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.

"Why? I don't understand-"

"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."

Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"

(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."

Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.

"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.

(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.

Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.

"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.

"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."

The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."

"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."

The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"

"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."

Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"

The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."

Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"

Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"

Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"

"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."

Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."

It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..

A dark, bitter seed had been planted.

And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.

He wondered what else they would do for him.

The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.

"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.

"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."

"Are you sure?"

The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.

"Of course, please take it!"

Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.

The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.

In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."

He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.

"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."

But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.

As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.

Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.

The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.

Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.

(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.

The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.

Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.

(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.

Then their lips pressed against his.

His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.

"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"

They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.

His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."

Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."

Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."

The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.

After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.

But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.

[chrissssssmut]

School setting ice queen popular girl x nerd prom story

F(x) Krystal Jung x male reader pls pls pls

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART

Popular girl Krystal Jung x Nerd Male Reader

AN: Made this during my free time! Super short though but hope this is good!☺️

High school was a hierarchy, and at the top sat Krystal Jung. Effortlessly beautiful, wickedly intelligent, and always carrying an air of indifference, she was the girl everyone wanted but no one could touch. She walked the halls with the confidence of someone who knew her place—above everyone else.

She was an enigma, the Ice Queen of the school. People admired her, envied her, desired her, but never truly knew her. She had no close friends, only followers. No one dared to push past her cool, composed demeanor because Krystal never let anyone close enough to try. Every confession of love she received was met with cold rejection, every attempt at friendship subtly brushed aside. It wasn’t that she was mean—she was just untouchable.

I, on the other hand, belonged at the bottom. Just another faceless nerd drowning in textbooks and obscure science facts, existing quietly in the background. That was fine. It was safe. People like Krystal and I didn’t cross paths, and life made sense that way.

I never spent much time thinking about her. Unlike the rest of the school, I didn’t see her as some unreachable goddess. To me, she was just another student—someone who happened to exist in the same building but had no impact on my life. While others obsessed over her, I had my books, my small corner of the world, and that was enough. I never wanted to be part of her orbit.

Until one week before prom.

“Be my date.”

I had been retrieving my notebook from my locker when I heard her voice. I turned, half expecting to see someone else, because Krystal Jung speaking to me? Impossible.

But there she was, standing in front of me, arms crossed, looking down as if I were an insect she had to negotiate with. Her uniform was pristine, her long dark hair perfectly straight, and her eyes? Cold. Calculating.

I blinked. “Huh?”

Krystal sighed, as if she already regretted talking to me. “Prom. You. Me.” She gestured vaguely. “We go together.”

I almost laughed. Almost. But her expression was unreadable, and something told me she wasn’t joking.

“I think you have the wrong guy,” I said, gripping my notebook tighter.

“No,” she said simply. “I don’t.”

That should’ve been the end of it. I should’ve walked away, let her realize her mistake, and carried on with my life. But Krystal Jung didn’t give people the option to ignore her. She lingered, waiting, expecting an answer.

“Why me?” I asked, suspicion creeping into my voice. “You could have anyone.”

Something flickered in her gaze. A shadow of irritation? Amusement? I couldn’t tell. “I have my reasons.”

Cryptic. Classic Ice Queen behavior.

I shook my head. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but—”

“I wasn’t asking,” she cut in, her tone sharper. “I was informing you.”

That threw me off. I stared at her, waiting for the punchline, the cruel laughter that usually followed when people like her toyed with people like me. But it never came. Just Krystal Jung, staring me down like she was daring me to refuse.

And for some reason, I couldn’t.

The days leading up to prom were a blur of rumors and stares. Everyone wanted to know how the school’s most unattainable girl had ended up with the most forgettable guy. Some thought it was a prank, others a bet. A few wondered if I had blackmail on her. I had no answers.

Krystal, meanwhile, acted as if none of it mattered. She barely spoke to me outside of telling me what color my suit should be. When I tried to ask again why she picked me, she waved me off with a bored, “I just did.”

I should’ve let it go. I should’ve just enjoyed the fantasy of it all, but something about her choice gnawed at me. I started paying closer attention to her, watching how she interacted with others. She was polite, cold, detached. She smiled at the right moments but never too much. It was like she was playing a role, keeping a distance that no one dared to cross.

I started noticing things I hadn’t before. How she sat alone at lunch despite the crowd that always hovered around her. How people talked about her like she was a trophy rather than a person. How guys boasted about trying to win her over, but no one ever claimed to know her favorite movie, or whether she even liked being the queen of the school.

Then I realized—Krystal Jung had never been given a choice. The whole school had already decided who she was supposed to be.

Then prom night arrived.

I stood awkwardly outside the venue, adjusting my tie for the tenth time. People whispered when they saw me. Some smirked, some sneered. But when Krystal arrived—when she stepped out of the car in a sleek black dress, her gaze cool and unreadable—the entire room held its breath.

She walked toward me, unfazed by the attention. “You clean up okay,” she said.

I swallowed. “You look…” Breathtaking. Stunning. Unreal. “…Nice.”

She smirked, linking her arm through mine without hesitation. “Let’s get this over with.”

Inside, the dance was exactly what I expected—loud, crowded, overwhelming. I tried to stay out of the way, but Krystal never let go of me. She led me through the crowd like we belonged together, ignoring the way people whispered behind their hands.

Then came the slow dance.

Krystal turned to me expectantly, her hand outstretched. My throat went dry. “You…actually want to dance?”

“Isn’t that what people do at prom?” she deadpanned.

I hesitated, but she was already pulling me in. Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder, the other slipping into my palm. I held my breath. She was so close I could smell her perfume—cool, crisp, like fresh rain.

“This isn’t a joke, right?” I asked quietly.

Krystal’s gaze flickered up to mine, something shifting in her expression. “No.”

For the first time since she asked me, she looked…different. Not cold, not indifferent. Just—Krystal.

“Then why?” I whispered. “Why me?”

She exhaled, her fingers tightening around mine. “Because,” she said, voice softer now. “You were the only one who never tried to change me.”

I thought back to all those times I had barely acknowledged her, how I had never idolized her, never treated her like she was some unattainable dream. To me, she was just another student, another person figuring things out. I never expected her to smile more, to be friendlier, to be anything other than what she was.

And that, apparently, was enough.

The weight of her words settled over me. It hit me then—how exhausting it must be to constantly live up to an image, to always be someone people admired but never truly saw. Everyone wanted Krystal Jung to be the Ice Queen. No one ever let her just be…a girl.

I didn’t know what to say to that. But as the music played and we swayed under the dim lights, I realized something.

For the first time all night, Krystal Jung wasn’t looking at anyone else.

Just me.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter why she chose me. Because I realized I wanted to be chosen.

[neurotica-tales]

Yandere Kaeya Headcanon

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Up next: Yandere Neuvillette Headcanon, Yandere Kaedehara Kazuha Headcanon

To find my masterlist, click HERE.

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"A gentle kindess that cracked the ice."

You weren’t anyone particularly special. Not to the world. Not even to Mondstadt. You were new. Modest. The kind of person people liked but easily forgot.

But Kaeya didn’t.

He remembers the way you offered him your umbrella during a sudden spring storm. He wasn’t even cold—he never is—but you didn’t know that. You didn’t wait for him to ask. You simply saw someone without shelter and gave him yours.

That moment shouldn’t have mattered.

And yet, it haunts him.

Because no one—not Diluc, not Varka, not the Knights, not even his adoptive father—ever gave without expecting something in return. But you?

You smiled and told him, “You looked lonely.”

That one sentence was the first chisel to strike the glacier around Kaeya’s heart.

And it cracked.

When Kaeya realizes he’s in love with you, he doesn’t panic.

He plans.

He imagines living with you. Cooking for you. Waking up beside you in soft sunlight, your hair messy, your voice still groggy.

He wants to read you stories. Watch the stars from the Cathedral’s roof with your head on his shoulder. Wrap you in his cape when it snows.

But more than that…

He wants to own your love.

He wants your devotion, your worship, your dependence.

He wants to be the reason you smile, the one you miss when he's gone, the person who makes your world feel safe and full.

Kaeya doesn’t understand “normal” love. He’s never known it. He only understands love as a choice with consequences—to give your heart to someone is to make yourself vulnerable.

And now that he’s vulnerable, so will you.

You had now caught the attention of one of the most dangerous men in Mondstat, but you don't even know it at first.

He makes it seem casual when he asks what you’re reading at the tavern. Like he just happened to sit beside you.

You don’t see the way he’s already read your order history with Charles, already knows your favorite tea from Good Hunter, already “coincidentally” helped an older woman carry crates into your building so he could learn where you live.

To Kaeya, obsession feels like strategy.

He’s gathering intelligence—observing patterns, logging behaviors, calculating variables.

He learns what time you leave your home each morning. Whether you prefer cats or dogs. How you hum a little when you think no one’s listening. The exact pitch your voice hits when you're excited.

And, most dangerously of all: how deeply you love the people around you.

He’s envious of them. He wants to be loved like that.

And he will be.

Once he's gathered enough intel, Kaeya begins talking to you often and flirts with you constantly.

He jokes that he’s your knight in shining armor. He always seems to be nearby when you need help—catching your fall, fending off a hilichurl, finding that item you dropped in the fountain. You laugh. You call him lucky. Maybe even “charming.”

He hopes you never notice that he’s always watching.

Because if you truly knew what was happening behind those mismatched eyes, you’d run.

Every conversation he has with you is archived in his mind, dissected at night when he’s alone. He repeats your words in his head until he falls asleep.

He dreams of your smile. He wonders what your skin would feel like if he brushed your cheek with his gloved thumb. He wants to know how tightly you’d cling to him if you were afraid.

But he can’t tell you that.

Not yet.

He can’t show you the pages in his notebook, hidden beneath layers of fake mission reports—pages filled with your name, your habits, little drawings of your smile.

So instead, he says, “You really should be more careful wandering Mondstadt alone, you know. Not everyone here is as friendly as me.”

To everyone else, Kaeya Alberich is the same as always: flirtatious, witty, infuriatingly clever.

No one notices the slight shift when you're around—the way his gaze lingers a little too long, the way he steers conversations to revolve around you, even in your absence. He makes jokes about being obsessed with you, but no one takes it seriously.

Except he is.

And he’s counting on no one believing it because soon, Kaeya begins removing variables. Quietly. Painfully.

Your commissions are rerouted to less dangerous areas (thank his forgery skills).

The people who get too close to you begin to fall away—one has a family emergency, another suddenly leaves town, a third is caught with smuggled goods Kaeya himself planted.

Any suitor who looks at you too long gets politely interrogated by the Cavalry Captain, who never threatens, but whose smile says, “Try it, and you’ll disappear.”

You think it’s coincidence. Maybe even fate.

He makes himself your constant.

Your protector. Your provider. The only one who seems to always be there.

You start to rely on him. You trust him with small secrets. You let him walk you home. You touch his arm when you laugh.

Kaeya keeps his composure—he always does—but inside, it’s euphoria.

He tells himself:

"This is how it's meant to be."

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Stuck On You

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dark themes, slut shaming, obsessive behaviour, smut.

Word count: ~6k

Summary: When her email is hacked and racy photos she'd sent to her boyfriend find their way onto Myspace, she becomes the social pariah of Oxford University. She turns to the only person she believes is intelligent enough to be able to help; Michael Gavey. Could uncovering the truth of the situation make things worse than they already are?

Author's note: Written to celebrate one year of my blog existing. Sorry for the delay. Crumbageddon beat the shit out of me. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Using a painting of that former duchess as a conversation piece, he describes what he saw as her unfaithfulness, frivolity, and stubbornness, and implies that he prefers her as a painting rather than as a…as a living woman,” her voice shakes, stumbling over her words, watching as her essay papers slip from her hands, fluttering towards the rug of the study.

“Sh-shit…I’m sorry,” she stammers, leaning down to snatch them back up, feeling her skin heat up with embarrassment as she attempts to rustle them back into order.

“Everything alright?” Professor Ware asks, shifting in his seat and clasping his hands in his lap.

“Distracted by her own portrait, I should imagine,” snarks Farleigh, cutting her off before she has a chance to reply. 

He smirks up at her, before returning his focus to the screen of his Macbook, fingers tapping quickly across the keys as he sits on the floor with it in his lap, leaning back against the armchair she currently sits in, his legs crossed at the ankle.

Of course he’d left it until the last minute to do his essay. Lazy prick.

“Stop it,” she hisses, knocking his shoulder with her knee.

“Why? It’s up again already anyway,” he retorts with a casual shrug, not bothering to look at her this time.

Her blood runs ice cold, dread gnawing a pit in her stomach. That would be the fourth time this week.

“Where?!” She demands, leaning down to snatch Farleigh’s Macbook from him, ignoring his protestation of “hey!” as she clicks on the minimised Internet Explorer window to see her Myspace profile already open.

Just as he’d said, there she is. Her profile picture depicts her in a lacy two piece lingerie set, laying on her bed, her cleavage, stomach and thighs on full display. She’d thought the angle flattering when she’d first held the digital camera above herself and snapped the picture, but now it’s splashed all over the internet for everyone to see. It makes her feel sick.

“I have to go,” she says hurriedly, shoving Farleigh’s Macbook back into his lap and stuffing her essay papers into her bag.

She almost trips over Farleigh’s long legs in her rush to escape the tutorial room, the air suddenly feeling too thick and difficult to breathe, as her heart hammers in her chest. Her feet carry her down the hallway in quick strides, no particular direction in mind, just eager to get away.

It had all seemed like innocent fun at first. She had felt excited on the second day of Fresher’s Week when a group of girls from the floor of her accommodation had invited her to go shopping with them

They had wrinkled their noses as she had beelined for the Ann Summers in Westgate Shopping Centre, lured by the big, red sale banner in the window.

“Oh darling,” India had cooed, “don’t buy that rubbish. We’ll get the train into London and take you to Rigby and Peller in Mayfair, if it’s lingerie you’re after.”

She had balked inwardly at the thought of how expensive that would be, but had simply smiled politely, stating “this is fine”, more than happy with the matching black lace set she’d picked from the sale rail.

Back in her room, she’d tried it on, loving the way the material hugged her curves and felt against her skin. Excitedly, she’d dug out her digital camera, contorting herself into various poses that she felt best displayed her assets, until she was satisfied she had several that looked good.

She hadn’t seen her boyfriend, Jake, since she had left for Oxford and he had gone to Brighton. Their reading weeks didn’t align, which meant they’d have to wait until the term came to an end to see each other at Christmas.

Emailing him the photos had felt like a nice way for them to maintain some sort of intimacy, despite the distance, and he’d certainly appreciated it, as a couple of hours later she’d gotten a text from him which simply said “wow!”

The high from that had left her with a smile on her face for days, until she’d stepped out of a tutorial a few days later to see a missed call and a text from him.

“What the fuck are you playing at?!” It had read.

She’d called him back straight away, the urge to vomit growing acrid in her throat as he’d told her what he’d seen, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she’d scrambled with shaking hands to free her laptop from her bag, to confirm what Jake was saying.

There it was. Her Myspace profile picture had been changed to one of the lingerie photos she’d sent to him. This one was a full length photo she’d taken, aiming the camera at the mirror in her room.

The hot prickle of tears had burned beneath her eyelids, as she’d drawn in a shaky breath. “Wh-why would you do that?” She’d whispered tearfully into the phone.

“It wasn’t me!” Jake had snapped angrily. “Perhaps if you hadn't taken those bloody photos in the first place then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Are you seriously blaming me?!”

“It just looks bad. I think maybe we should cool things for a bit, I can’t with be someone that—”

Tears had rolled down her cheeks as she’d pulled the phone away from her ear, seeing the call had cut off. She’d run out of credit. In a way, she was grateful; she didn’t want to listen to Jake ending their relationship, to continue to blame her for something that wasn’t her fault.

She had taken the photo down, changed her profile picture back to what it was before, and changed the password for both Myspace and her email. However, the damage was done, the whispers of “slut” as she walked to lectures had already started.

Another two days later she had entered the IT lab to print out her essay, and saw a group huddled around a computer, laughing together. They had turned, immediately quietening down, their voices hushed whispers as they looked at her. 

She had pushed them apart, already knowing what it was they were all looking at, but wanting to confirm it. Just as she’d suspected, her Myspace profile was open. This time her photo had been changed to an over the shoulder shot. The side of her face and her buttocks visible as she’d arched her back.

Running back to her room, tears of humiliation blurring her vision, she’d taken the photo down again and changed all her passwords. But once again, it was too little, too late. A print out of the photo slipped beneath her door that same day, with the word “whore” scrawled across it.

Her friends were already starting to pull away, the invites to the pub had dried up into nothing. When another photo had been uploaded, Felix had pulled her to one side.

“Look, I think it’s incredibly daring of you to be doing what you’re doing, and I respect the fuck out of you for it, really I do,” he’d said, eyes filled with sympathy as he’d looked down at her. “But a few of us really aren’t comfortable with how you’re going about…getting attention, so I just think it’s for the best if we take some space until you’ve figured out whatever this is.”

She had been stunned by his words, her eyes going wide as her mouth had dropped open. “You think I’m doing this to myself?!”

“Well, what else are we supposed to think? We’re worried about you. There are better…healthier ways to make yourself stand out. Just come clean and all of this can stop.”

Turning away in disgust, anger and betrayal flaring white hot in her chest, she’d walked away. This was happening to her, she wasn’t complicit in it, and yet people continued to act like it was her fault. She had started to wonder if she really was to blame. Had she tempted fate by taking those photos in the first place?

Today was the fourth time a photo had been uploaded and having fled from the tutorial with Professor Ware and Farleigh, she finds herself in the Bodleian Library, having walked on instinct. 

It serves as a quiet refuge for her in moments when she feels overwhelmed, hiding among the shelves, admiring tomes that are older than she is. She’d come here on her first day, when the influx of new people, sights and sounds had become too much, and she had crouched between the stacks the first time one of her photos had been leaked. The smell of old books and the peace and quiet feels safe.

Walking silently between the study tables she spots him, alone, as he always is; Michael Gavey. He is hunched over a notebook, scribbling furious notes, stopping occasionally to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

She had thoroughly embarrassed herself the first time she’d met him, the only time she had ever spoken to him. It had been the night of the fresher’s welcome dinner. She’d heard his outburst in the dining hall, heard how he had answered the subsequent multiplication sum flawlessly and been bowled over by how effortlessly brilliant he was. It was intimidating.

Yet, later that evening fuelled by the courage of five tropical watermelon flavoured Bacardi Breezers, she’d stumbled over to him in the rec room, ignoring how he’d recoiled slightly at her advancing towards him.

She’d wrapped an arm around his neck, taking no notice of the way he’d stiffened beneath her touch.

“Wha’s nine hundred and ninety nine divided by thirteen?” She’d slurred into his ear.

He had bristled slightly, before answering quietly. “Seventy six point eight five.”

She had giggled, patting his cheek, knocking his glasses askew. “Don’t even know how to check that, but I’ll take your word for it, genius.” 

Kissing his cheek, she’d stumbled away, leaving him to wipe away the sticky residue her lips had left behind, while Felix and Farleigh had fallen about themselves, laughing, finding it far funnier than she’d intended for it to be. She had ended up making him a laughing stock without even meaning to.

The memory fills her with shame. She really did find him impressive. He was precisely the type of person she had wanted to rub shoulders with when she arrived at Oxford, yet she had made a fool of herself instead.

She smiled at him whenever she caught his eye on the rare occasions they crossed paths, but he’d either look away or stare at her expressionless.

Perhaps now was her opportunity to make amends. She has no friends now anyway, so it’s not as though she has anything to lose.

Walking over to his table, before she has a chance to talk herself out of it, she sits down heavily in the seat next to him, depositing her bag onto the tabletop.

Michael’s pen pauses its movements, and slowly his head turns to the side, narrowing his eyes at her in silent question.

She suddenly has the urge to run, realising this was a terrible idea. She feels enormous discomfort beneath the scrutiny of his gaze yet, determined to push through it, she offers him a bright smile.

“You’re Michael, aren’t you?” She says, attempting to sound more cheerful than she feels.

“Yes,” he replies simply, placing his pen down and straightening in his seat.

“Thought so. I’m–”

“I know who you are,” he cuts her off. “What do you want?”

“Oh,” she swallows, shifting awkwardly in her seat. She hadn’t anticipated him being quite so blunt. “Well, I wanted to apologise for how I behaved on the first night. I thought maybe we could be friends?”

He scoffs, the corners of his mouth turning up into the faintest of smirks. “As if I’d be friends with someone who’s reading literature. Why pay all that money in tuition fees for a glorified book club?”

For a moment she doesn’t know what to say. Shock, offense and hurt swirl in a hot mixture in her chest. She fights the embarrassing urge to burst into tears. Her voice is small and weak when she finally asks “How do you know what I’m studying?”

Michael nods towards the desk. “There’s a book of Robert Browning poetry sticking out of your bag.”

“Right, yeah…” She feels her skin heat up, turning to slowly tuck the book further down inside, still able to feel his eyes upon her. It’s disconcerting to be observed so closely.

“Where’s that group of losers you usually hang around with anyway?”

The question takes her by surprise, and she laughs softly, though there is no real humour to it. “I don’t think they want to hang around with me anymore.”

“So you’re a Norman no mates too then?”

His expression has softened, a slight playfulness brightens his blue eyes as she looks back at him, and she can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

He leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin up on his hand. “Hmmm. So they got bored of you then?”

“No…I–”

She sighs exasperatedly, running a hand through her hair, before digging through her bag to pull out her laptop. “It’s probably easier if I show you.”

Setting the laptop down on the table, she loads her Myspace page, the same picture she’d seen on Farleigh’s Macbook earlier still set as her profile photo. “Someone keeps changing my profile picture to this. I sent my boyfriend…ex-boyfriend…some photos and now someone has them and keeps doing this every time I change it back.”

Michael’s expression is impassive as he stares at the screen. “Have you changed your passwords?”

“Yes,” she sighs.

“So, you’ve been hacked.”

“Looks that way…I don’t suppose you know anything about computers? Maybe you could help me figure out who’s doing this?”

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue, staring intently at her, “so there it is, pretending to befriend the college nerd because you need computer help. Do you not think it’s a bit of a tired stereotype to assume that because I’m reading maths I’d be able to help you with your IT issues?”

“No, it’s not like that!” She protests, her eyes welling up with tears. She turns away, defeated, deciding this is a lost cause and closes her laptop. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

He sighs. “Well, there’s no need to cry about it. I can help you, just not right now. Are you free later this evening?”

She sniffles, her eyes going wide as she looks at him in surprise. “Really?”

He nods, closing his notebook and slipping his pen into his breast pocket. “I’ve got a tutorial in twenty minutes, but I can help trace the IP of whoever’s hacked you. I’m on the first floor of the Brasenose, second room left of the staircase. I’ll be back around five.”

Nodding, she immediately feels lighter, the possibility that this may finally come to an end instantly lifting her spirits. A chance to get her life back. “That’s perfect, I’ll see you then. Thank you so much.”

He rises, his gaze remaining fixed upon her. “See you later.” 

The way he addresses her, first and last name, sends a shiver down her spine as she watches him turn away and walk slowly out of the library. She wonders what she has gotten herself into, but with no friends and no other options there is little else to be done.

She is filled with restless energy for the rest of the day, unable to sit still or concentrate during the only other lecture she has that afternoon, until eventually she finds herself standing outside of Michael’s room at quarter past five, the hours leading up to that feeling as though they’ve lasted an eternity.

Where there is the faint sound of music or talking coming from the doors she’s passed already on her way here, she is struck by the eerie silence she is met with from his, and wonders for a moment if he’s even home.

Nervous excitement crackles like electricity through her body and her knock is louder than she intends for it to be. She hears shuffling from the other side, until the door swings slowly open. Michael stands poker straight on the threshold, staring down at her.

“Did you bring your laptop?” He asks.

Yet again she is taken aback by how forthright he is, but she nods, stepping in as he moves to the side to let her pass.

Looking around the room, she takes in the plainness of his bedspread, the shelves of mathematics and physics textbooks, the desk set up in the corner that has his laptop open on it. There is nothing that gives even the slightest indication as to who he is as a person.

The sound of him clearing his throat startles her attention back to him, and she turns with an apologetic smile to face him. “Sorry, always weird being in someone else’s room…”

“Right,” he replies, his gaze unwavering as he looks at her. “Laptop?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” embarrassment heats up her skin, as she rummages in her bag, taking it out and handing it to him.

He settles it next to his own on the desk, before taking a seat.

She stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around, not quite knowing what to do with herself. “Um…where should I…?”

“Anywhere,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, not looking at her.

She settles on the edge of the bed, running her hands over the soft cotton of the duvet cover. It’s an odd sensation to sit so casually in the space that she knows he sleeps. It feels too familiar, too intimate.

Glancing to the side, she notices the shimmer of gold and purple in the bin. She smiles to herself, having learned something about him in spite of the lack of personal effects in his room. He has a sweet tooth, evidenced by the Crunchie bar wrappers in the bin.

“Password?” He asks, and her head snaps up towards him.

“Hmm?”

He turns in his chair, resting his arm on the back of it, glaring at her over his shoulder. “The password for your laptop, what is it?”

“Oh!” She exclaims. “Is it safe for me to tell you that?”

“It is if you want me to help you,” he sighs.

She squirms uncomfortably. He has the innate ability to make her feel small, foolish, but what’s most disconcerting is that she doesn’t dislike it, there is something about him that draws her to his condescension. 

“It’s Shakespeare,” she tells him sheepishly, “with a four in place of the first A.”

“What about the passwords for your email and Myspace accounts?”

“The same.”

“The same?!”

“I’ve changed the passwords each time a new photo has been posted, but it’s just easier to have the same one for everything.”

He groans, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “No wonder you’ve been hacked, typical fucking liberal arts student.”

She lowers her gaze, fingers plucking nervously at the bedspread. “Different passwords for every account, got it.”

“Well, that’s a start, yes,” he tells her, turning back to the screens. “Has anyone but you had access to your computer?”

“No, it stays in my bag when I’m not using it.”

She sits watching him tap away at the keyboards of both laptops alternately for a few moments before she speaks again. “I’m not stupid, you know,” she tells him, her voice sounding meeker than she means for it to. “English Language and Literature is no less of a respectable course than Mathematics. I wrote an essay on the Robert Browning poem, My Last Duchess, recently. It’s a fascinating piece, focusing on the Duke of Ferrara using a painting of his former wife as a conversation topic. The Duke speaks about his former wife's perceived inadequacies to a representative of the family of his bride-to-be, revealing his obsession with controlling others in the process. Browning uses this compelling psychological portrait of a despicable character to critique the objectification of women and abuses of power. It’s a compelling commentary on social status and elitism.”

“What would you know about either of those things?” He asks, continuing to type.

“More than I’d like to,” she says quietly, “I don’t fit in here, not really. I earned my place with a scholarship.”

He pauses, stiffening, glancing over his shoulder at her with a “hmm”.

“I’ve managed to get into the access logs for both your email and Myspace accounts,” he tells her. “There are two sets of IPs that have accessed both accounts in the last week, but both are eduroam IP addresses.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that whoever is uploading those photos is doing so from the university.”

The revelation hits her like a punch to the gut, she feels paralysed, unable to speak as his words sink in. A part of her had wanted to believe it was Jake. To think there is someone at the university who is doing this to her makes her feel nauseated. Her mind races with the possibilities of who it could be. Felix? India? Farleigh? What reason could any of them possibly have to want to do that to her?

“What should I do?” She asks worriedly, staring at Michael with her brows pinched together. “Do you think reporting it would help?”

He swivels his chair fully around to face her and shakes his head. “Not if you intend to keep your scholarship. Rocking the boat over leaked nudes won’t look good to the university board, they’ll take issue with the fact that you even took those photos in the first place.”

“So I just have to let this keep happening?” She feels her throat tighten, wetness rims her eyes.

“Change your passwords,” he says matter of factly. “A different one for every account.”

She nods, expelling a shaky breath, before standing. “I should probably get going. Thank you…for everything.”

Before she goes to bed that night, she changes her passwords - a different one for every account she owns, and deletes the newest uploaded photo, returning her profile picture to its original state.

As far as she is concerned, that should be the end of it. However, her breath hitches, icy cold fingers of fear gripping her heart when she logs on the following morning. Not only has her profile picture been changed to another photo from the set she’d taken for Jake, but the “about me” section now reads “vapid cunt”.

On autopilot, she dresses, taking her laptop and walking the six minutes from Christ Church Halls to Brasenose College.

As soon as Michael’s door opens, she flings her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. He stiffens, not returning the gesture, until she finally pulls away.

He straighens, adjusting his glasses. His hair is rumpled from sleep, clad in a t-shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms.

“God, I’m so sorry, I woke you up,” she says tearfully, “I should go. I didn’t think, I just–”

“It’s fine,” he says flatly, ushering her in.

She sits down on the bed. It’s unmade, still warm from where he’s been sleeping in it. The feeling sends a shiver down her spine, despite her emotional distress.

Gingerly he sits next to her, keeping a respectable distance as she removes her laptop from her bag and opens it. “It’s happened again. I did everything you said to do, but it’s happened again, and it’s worse this time. Look–”

Handing him the laptop she shuffles closer to him, her thigh pressed against his. She can feel the warmth of him through her leggings. It causes butterflies to flutter in her belly, it’s been so long since she’s been this close to anyone.

Michael doesn’t stiffen at her touch this time, whether it’s because he doesn’t mind it or is too distracted by what he sees on the screen, she’s unsure, but it’s progress.

“Hmm. And you’re sure you changed your passwords?”

“Yes, all of them. I don’t know what else to do. If I report it, I risk my scholarship, but if this carries on I’ll lose it anyway, because how can I concentrate when this keeps happening?”

He says nothing, closing her laptop and passing it back to her.

“I’ve worked my arse off to get here, to earn my place, this can’t be what ends it,” she says miserably, tucking her computer back into her bag.

“I’d suggest focusing on your studies and less on your peers,” Michael says matter of factly. “You haven’t made the best choice of friends since arriving here.”

“They’re not my friends,” she whispers, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “At least not anymore. Do you think it’s one of them doing this?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” he replies bitterly, “stay away from them. I’ve got a lecture this morning, but maybe when I’ve got some downtime, I can do a deeper dive, perhaps see if I can track the logins to a device type.”

“You’d do that for me?” She whispers, looking at him with eyes full of appreciation.

“That’s what mates are for, right?”

“Thank you…just…thank you,” she tells him with sincerity, holding his gaze.

She reaches for his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, desperate to kiss his cheek as a gesture of her gratitude, but remembers the first time she’d done it and cringes inwardly. Though Michael’s hand doesn’t clutch back, he doesn’t move it away and, after a few moments, she realises they’re simply sitting holding hands, looking into each other's eyes.

He is beautiful in his own way. His stare, though intimidating, is piercingly blue, and his lips are soft and plump. She swallows, lashes fluttering in embarrassment when she realises she’s staring at his mouth.

Chancing her luck, she leans in, planting a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips. “I’ll be back at lunchtime, okay?” She whispers, before standing and moving towards the door.

He simply nods, fingers raising to brush over the spot where she’d kissed him. The sight puts a spring in her step for the rest of the morning, almost enough to forget about her being hacked. Almost.

She stops at a vending machine in the rec room on her way back to Brasenose at midday, deciding to buy Michael a Crunchie, an additional thank you for him going out of his way to help her.

As awful as having her privacy violated has been, she is grateful that it has brought her and Michael closer together. She had started the term wanting nothing more than to be his friend, and had royally fucked it up.

Now it seems they have mended their rift, and the prospect of being more than just friends is on the cards. Admittedly, he isn’t her usual type, but there is something about him that excites her. She hopes that once this is all over, this can be a fresh start for her at Oxford; her and Michael, just the caliber of intelligence she had wanted to associate with when she’d first applied.

She knocks at his door, hesitating when he doesn’t open it.

“Michael?” She calls out, brow furrowing in concern when he doesn’t answer.

They’d agreed upon lunchtime to meet, where was he? She tries the door handle and it’s unlocked, gingerly she pushes it open, peering slowly inside. He’s not there, but if he’d left it unlocked then he’d surely be back soon and wouldn’t mind her waiting inside for him.

She steps into the room, finding it much the same as before, only this time the bed is made. Walking over to the window by the desk, she stops to admire the view of the church, startling slightly when her bag knocks the computer chair, disturbing the mouse and taking Michael’s laptop out of sleep.

As she is about to turn back to the window, she notices her Myspace profile is open in edit mode in his browser. She frowns, a feeling of unease washing over her, as she steps towards the desk, her hand trembling as she reaches for the mouse.

She minimises Internet Explorer, gasping when she sees a folder open on his desktop, filled with the photos she had sent to Jake, all of them, even the ones that hadn’t yet been set as her profile picture.

Her heart pounds as she selects all of them, deleting them before clicking on the recycling bin to empty it.

“You didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to not create back ups, did you?”

Turning, she sees that Michael has returned, so quietly she hadn’t noticed. His fingers clutch at the USB stick that’s clipped to his cargo shorts, lips turned up into an expression of smugness.

Tears prickle her eyes, as her heart lurches, the only word that escapes her is “why?” as she looks at him with arched brows, her face pinched into an expression of emotional hurt.

“Why?” He repeats, cocking his head, advancing towards her as she shrinks back into the corner. “Because someone needed to take you down a peg or two.”

“You’ve ruined my life!” She cries, tears slipping down her cheeks, looking at him in disbelief.

This has to be a dream, it is too surreal. Any moment now, she’ll wake up and all of this will have been a terrible dream.

Only it’s not, it’s real, real as the heat of his breath that fans across her face as he looms over her, having backed her fully into the corner between the desk and the window. 

“What life? Pretending to play a part with people that don’t really like you? Using your pretentious choice in reading material to make yourself seem intelligent?”

“You don’t know anything about me!” She says defiantly.

“Oh, I know all about you. Hiding your scholarship from those vapid cunts, so they won’t sniff out your working class background and drop you. The variations of John Browning as your password - adding a different number to each variation doesn’t make it a different password, stupid girl.”

“I was nice to you…” She offers feebly, almost pleading with him.

He smirks, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gripping harshly, forcing her to look at him. “You felt sorry for me. But it’s not me that needs pity, is it? It’s you. Poor little scholarship slut. You love that My Last Duchess poem so much because you see yourself in it, don’t you? Think you’re being objectified, treated unfairly. Well, let me tell you something, you are like that poem, but in the sense that you’re better in pictures than you are in real life.”

“Stop it,” she whispers, trying to pull away from him.

“Truth hurt, does it?” He asks, his grip on her face remaining tight. “That’s a pity. I enjoyed those pictures, really enjoyed them. It’s a shame the real life version is so whiny and pathetic.”

“I’ll report you,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I don’t think you will, somehow. You love the attention,” he tells her, dropping his hand from her chin to her shoulder, turning her and backing her up towards the bed. “I’ve seen how you look at me. If I wanted to fuck you right now, you’d let me.”

“I–I wouldn’t!” She stammers, feeling her face grow warm.

With a gentle shove from him, she topples back against the mattress, and he is quick to move over her, caging her in. “Liar,” he whispers in her ear.

She shudders at the sensation, despising the way her body betrays her, as heat pools between her legs. She shouldn’t be turned on by this, yet she can’t deny the way he sets her pulse racing.

“I haven’t ruined your life, but I could and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” He hisses.

The weight of him on top of her, his warm breath fanning against her neck, it’s dizzying. She wants to tell him to get off of her, to push him away, yet she cannot find it in herself to do so. There is a part of her that’s curious to see how far he’ll push this.

When she doesn’t say anything, he carries on, nimble fingers moving to the waistband of her leggings, tugging them down. “I’m going to treat you like the desperate, little slut that you are, and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

She whines, lifting her hips as he rids her of the bottom half of her clothing.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks.

His gaze falls between her legs, tentative fingers reaching out to brush through the wetness that has gathered there. She sees a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes and wonders if he has ever done this before.

She knows his moment of hesitation would be enough for her to push him away, grab her clothes and report him, yet she feels compelled to stay. If this is his first time, then she wants it to be her. She enjoys the dynamic of the power he has over her, while simultaneously being able to take something from him.

Wanting to bolster his confidence, urge him to continue, she sits up, eager hands unfastening his belt and unzipping his shorts. It flips a switch inside him, and he’s surging forward once more, pinning her beneath him as he pushes his boxers down just enough to free his cock.

“Tell me you want this,” he rasps against the shell of her ear.

“I want this,” she mewls desperately, feeling the head of him resting at her entrance.

“You’re going to keep letting me do this to you, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll wear that tarty underwear from your photos for me, won’t you?”

“...yes.”

He presses forward and is met with resistance, not having fully prepared her. He draws back and pushes against her again, repeating the motion until he’s fully sheathed inside of her. It’s exquisite torture, a pleasurable hurt to be split apart by him, to feel so full.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he stills and she can feel his inexperience in the way that he tenses, but isn’t prepared to give up when they’ve already come this far. She rolls her hips against his, a breathy sigh escaping her as she feels her sweet spot rub up against the head of him.

He screws his eyes shut, jaw going slack, before beginning to move his own hips, pulling back to slam forward once more, quickly finding a rhythm that suits him. This isn’t careful, considered lovemaking, they rut against each other like animals, both of them allowing instinct to guide them as they seek out the movements that feel most pleasurable.

She clings tightly to him, meeting him thrust for thrust, their breaths coming in hot, shallow pants.

“Fucking knew this was all you needed,” he mutters, “someone to teach you a lesson, see you for what you really are.”

“Please,” she whimpers, her hands sliding down to his backside to push him in deeper, causing him to groan.

“F–fuck,” he stutters, picking up his pace when he feels her start to tighten around him. “Tell me you’re mine, you don’t need anyone else, just me.”

“‘M yours,” she gasps, pushing her hips against his, zeroing in on the precipice she is about to fall from.

A particularly harsh thrust is the final shove she needs, and white hot waves of euphoria wrack her body, as she cries out in ecstasy. Suddenly, Michael is withdrawing, leaving her to clench around nothing as he paints her inner thigh with sticky warmth.

He collapses beside her, and she stares into the lightly fogged lenses of his glasses, their noses bumping together.

“Are you still going to ruin my life?” She asks, hazy with pleasure.

For the first time, their lips meet, a messy clash of tongue and teeth, that’s sloppy and wet, their breaths still heavy and movements uncontrolled. 

“You’re going to let me,” he whispers when they finally break for air, “because you’re mine.” Resistance is futile, she will let him. She wants this, needs this. After all, Michael Gavey is the type of person she came to Oxford to associate with in the first place, and she’s gotten exactly what she asked for.

Part two || Series masterlist

[theemissuniverse]

WHO IS YOUR MORTAL KOMBAT 1 BAE BASED ON YOUR PERSONALITY TYPE [MALE MK CHARACTERS]

INTP VERSION

LOGICIAN

A/N : Before y’all try to correct me - got this information from the personality database app so if you wanna tell me I’m wrong then blame the app. Also don’t take it THAT seriously. It’s just for fun. I will do a female version after this. Also please LIKE THIS TF UP. THIS TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG AND I DID CHARACTERS I HATE/DONT CARE ABOUT SO IT COULD BE FAIR PLEASE DONT DO THIS TO ME. Also, also do not say I picked favorites because unfortunately this is my personality and the characters that I wanted when I ran it through the system DID NOT match close to 100% so yeah

WARNINGS : none I think

First, what is an INTP individual?

INTP’s are logical and analytical "Logician" who prioritize knowledge and understanding. They are known for their interest in stripping away superficial details to get to the underlying principles of a system or idea. They may be seen as absent-minded professors who are highly intelligent and enjoy developing and organizing their subjective understandings into consistent systems. They are flexible and tolerant, but may become rigid when their beliefs are challenged.

Your compalability/relationship with all the MK 1 Characters

Baraka [ ENFJ - protagonist ]

Chemistry : 92%

Relationship Type : Playmate

Shared Value : Abstract

Communication Style : Educational

In a relationship, Baraka will give you anything you desire. He is always willing to do anything you ask for to please you. He wants you to be well taken care of. He wants to see you at your best even though most days he feels at his lowest. Baraka does fear that one day you might leave him for someone he feels as though is more worthy. So, he’ll always try to give you everything you have ever wanted. Your communication is always an understanding between the two of you. The two of you get each other.

Baraka is actually playful with you despite how serious he can be. He feels comfortable with you. Like he can be himself. He doesn’t have to hide who he is when he is with you. Everything just feels right. Sometimes the two of you don’t share the same goals but that’s okay. You two are different and Baraka understands that.

Bi-Han [ ENTJ - commander ]

Chemistry : 99%

Relationship Type : Soulmate

Shared Value : Intellectual

Communication Style : Rational

In a relationship, Bi-Han will try his best to be gentle with you despite his nature. You are his peace. The coldness to his ice. There is no better person to calm him down other than you. He is grumpy with everyone. It’s always him versus the world. That’s not the case with you. It’s always you and him. Together. Bi-Han feels like he can trust you and trust is an absolute big thing with him. If he cannot trust you then he mind as well treat you like everyone else. His communication is always calm considering how cold he can be. He is willing to talk through whatever problem the two of you face. Even though some days he doesn’t feel like it.

Bi-Han has a sense of obsessiveness over you. He feels like he needs you twenty four seven but he will never show it. He’s still a little hasty on showing affection but trust that he feels it. He wants to show you but sometimes it’s hard given how he is as a person. It has nothing to do with you, it’s him. Bi-Han will always try with you. Sometimes he can get a little pissy with you but you know how to handle him so it never gets blown out of proportion. The two of you are the best when you are together.

General Shao [ ESTP - entrepreneur ]

Chemistry : 83%

Relationship Type : Supervisor

Shared Value : Pragmatic

Communication Style : Inductive

In a relationship, Shao will lead, guide, and protect. He will make sure you are alright. Make sure that no obstacles stand in your way. He will always make sure you are making the right decisions. He wants what’s best for you. He will protect you with his life. Nobody will dare threaten his queen. Nobody. Shao feels that you are his very weakness. (And to him this man has no weaknesses.) Sometimes he hates it. He hates the way you make him feel.

Shao will make people bow to you. Will make people worship the ground you walk on. He will not stand for anyone to treat you horribly. Unfortunately, the communication in your relationship is undoubtedly horrid. Shao does not know how to speak to you or confess his feelings which leads into fights. At the end of the day, Shao will always make sure you are safe.

Geras [ ISTJ - logistician ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Eye opening

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Geras will show you nothing but kindness and compassion. You are not kind to yourself. He knows this. He will show you how to treat yourself. He will show you what you truly deserve. He will not back down even when it gets hard. He will stand by your side and help you experience the feeling.

It is not just yourself but to other people you have a hard time expressing your compassion to. Not to worry, Geras will help you. He will show you how to be kind, gentle, and caring to others. When you do, it makes you feel better about yourself. Geras will always be there for everything. Even if your communication can be a little off, he will still show you the way.

Johnny Cage [ ESTP - entrepreneur ]

Chemistry : 83%

Relationship Type : Supervisor

Shared Value : Pragmatic

Communication Style : Inductive

In a relationship, Johnny’s ultimate goal is to make you laugh. He doesn’t care what the situation is. If you’re upset or if you’re happy as can be. He will always try to make you feel better. He can’t stand when you’re sad. He can’t stand when something bothers you so he likes to take away everything that makes you feel bad about yourself with laughter.

Unfortunately, sometimes Johnny claims you are too serious for him and you claim he is too childish for you. Sometimes the communication isn’t really there but Johnny is willing to put aside all that because he loves you. Johnny loves showering you with gifts and telling you how “hot” you are. You’re perfect to him. His little movie star.

Havik [ ISFP - adventurer ]

Chemistry : 92%

Relationship Type : Consigliere

Shared Value : Pragmatic

Communication Style : Analytical

In a relationship, Havik’s more chaotic nature ceases when he is with you. It is always an interesting experience being with him but you don’t mind it. He gets to show you his way and you will show him yours. Two different worlds colliding may be overwhelming but Havik will be grateful for the experience.

Havik wants to show you what life is all about. He wants to show you adventure. He wants you to experience his world and his thinking. He wants you to understand him because he feels like nobody really does. As long as you let him, he will love you like he’s never loved anybody before.

Kenshi Takahashi [ INTJ - architect ]

Chemistry : 98%

Relationship Type : Twinflame

Shared Value : Intellectual

Communication Style : Speculative

In a relationship, Kenshi will always be there for you no matter what. Kenshi will be the one that will never go away. Even if you are at your lowest. Even when everything feels pointless. Even if you two fight. There is no driving Kenshi away. The two of you will figure it out. He’s determined on that. He will die on the hill every time. The two of you are so similar that you click every time you are around.

Every time he kisses you, it’s like fireworks. You are more to him than a girlfriend. You are his best friend. Someone that is deeply sewed into his soul. He will never run away from the feeling he has when he’s with you. Never will back down. He accepts who you are completely. With all your faults and all your hardships. You are a hard person to love but not to Kenshi. To Kenshi, you are the only one he can love.

Kuai Liang [ ISTJ - logistician ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Eye opening

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Kuai Liang always wants the best for you. He will do anything if it means it is for your best interest. Protecting you is something he does not take lightly. With everything in his being, Kuai Liang will protect you. He will make sure you are fine emotionally and physically.

It will always be you. Nobody else. Some people may find this rather annoying by Kuai Liang but he doesn’t care. Protecting you is all that matters to him. He can’t stand when he sees you upset. He’ll break down with you when he sees this. He’ll always try to comfort you as best as he can.

Kung Lao [ ENFP - campaigner ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Coach

Shared Value : Abstract

Communication Style : Impassionate

In a relationship, Kung Lao wants nothing more than to make you feel good about yourself. He knows it’s hard for you. You are not in tune with yourself but he will help with that. Kung Lao makes you feel beautiful every time he’s with you. He makes you feel special. He will make you feel like you are the only one that matters to him. Like you are the only one that is important.

The communication you two have is always filled with passion and great emotion. Kung Lao will never talk bad about you. Even if he is mad at you. He knows you. He knows you cannot handle the harsh words because he knows you believe all the negative things you think of yourself or other people have said about you. He will not stand for it.

Liu Kang [ ISFJ - defender ]

Chemistry : 81%

Relationship Type : Analyst

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Liu Kang will try to protect your peace. You are an over thinker and tend to always believe that everything will turn to worse. He’ll always try to take away any stress that is on your shoulders. One thing he does hate is your guy’s communication. Sometimes you are not comfortable with talking about your feelings and Liu Kang absolutely cannot stand it. He understands giving you your space but not speaking to him when you feel down or something is wrong drives him crazy. Liu Kang’s wit always charms you and makes you laugh because he’s not over the top with it.

Liu Kang is always patient with you. Especially with your strong emotions. You are emotionally reactive with everything but it is something he can handle. Sometimes when it become far too much, he’ll hold you in his arms and whisper how much he loves you. He’ll make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. He truly wants you to feel loved with every fiber in his being. Because you don’t like to talk about your feelings, he is always analyzing your body language and your speech to see if you are alright. If he deems you are not, expect a long talk of how much he loves you.

Raiden [ INFJ - advocate ]

Chemistry : 91%

Relationship Type : Advisor

Shared Value : Abstract

Communication Style : Speculative

In a relationship, Raiden will try and be the man you want him to be. He’ll be the man you always thought of in your head. He’ll make your dream man a reality. Raiden will always try to guide you to the right choices in life. He wants you to succeed. Your communication is always interesting. It is neither bad or good. Your goals are a little ways from each other but Raiden will always support you. No matter what.

When you feel like a mess, Raiden is there whispering in your ear how much he loves you. How important you are. He will make you feel like you are the most important person in the world. He wants you to see yourself how he sees you. He looks to you like you are his prize possession. Like you are his world. There’s no amount of anything that can change the way Raiden feels about you. Nothing in the world.

Rain [ INFP - mediator ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Supporter

Shared Value : Abstract

Communication Style : Analytical

In a relationship, Rain shows you nothing but respect and support. He is your number one support system. In everything, he will help you succeed. Respect is another thing he does not take lightly. You are his goddess, his queen. He will treat you like he needs to worship the ground you walk on.

He’ll always support your ideas and beliefs. Even though most of the time he does not agree with them. In the slightest. He knows that supporting you is more important than him trying to push his ideas and or beliefs onto you. Your needs matter and he understands this. Rain will also allow you to call him by his first name. You are one of the only people to have this privilege so know that Rain means well.

Reiko [ ISTJ - logistician ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Eye opening

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Reiko sees that there is more to life than himself when he is with you. He is a very selfish individual. Not when it comes to you though. He’s learning to put his significant other before him. He has to in order for the relationship to work. Otherwise the relationship is doomed as you can also be quite a selfish individual.

Reiko will try to give you gifts because he is not familiar with any other way of showing his affection. The two of you will have to teach each other how to love one another. It’s a rocky start but Reiko will get the hang of it. The relationship means so much more to him than you could ever realize.

Shang Tsung [ ENTP - debater ]

Chemistry : 81%

Relationship Type : Preceptor

Shared Value : Intellectual

Communication Style : Impassionate

In a relationship, Shang Tsung will put your needs above all. This is strange for the sorcerer as he is used to being selfish. It is not something he is familiar with but he can’t help himself. The more you’re around him the more he has this sense of urgency to try and give you the world.

Shang Tsung will always make sure you are well taken care of before going off doing his business. One thing about him is you will need to support his plans. Whatever they be, he needs someone by his side. Your goals usually align with each other and are smart. Your conversations are usually filled with great emotion and it’s something he can’t pull away from.

Syzoth [ ISFP - adventurer ]

Chemistry : 92%

Relationship Type : Consigliere

Shared Value : Pragmatic

Communication Style : Analytical

In a relationship, Syzoth wants you to feel like he is your home. He knows how it feels to be unwanted. He wants to shield you from that feeling. Nothing in the world matters more to him than you feeling safe. He cannot have you feeling down or feeling unsure. You need to be indefinitely secured.

He does not play any games. Syzoth will always try to advise you on what to do but will make it very clear that he is not trying to control the shape of your destiny. Whatever you desire, he is pleased with. He just doesn’t want you to regret anything or live in the past. Syzoth will make sure you feel safe in the beauty that is you.

Tomas [ ISFJ - defender ]

Chemistry : 81%

Relationship Type : Analyst

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Tomas will always be there when you break. He will always be there when you cry. He will always be there when you can’t find it in yourself to stand on your two feet. He is the glue to your soul. Tomas believes you are capable of doing anything but he knows that’s just something that’s hard for you to believe.

He’ll try to comfort you. To hold you. To kiss you. Sometimes it may not be something that’s physical that you need. Maybe it’s something that’s mental and Tomas will try his best to help you in that department. Seeing you break makes him break and he cannot live with himself knowing that if he didn’t try to help you, you would get worse.

if you’re an INTP then your soulmate is ENTJ

That means your perfect match for a soulmate is

BI-HAN / SUB-ZERO

Your perfect match for a best friend is

KENSHI TAKAHASHI

Here are runner ups that you could end up with (romantically)

(in order of best all the way down)

SYZOTH, BARAKA, HAVIK, RAIDEN, JOHNNY CAGE

FUN THINGS ABOUT INTP TO HELP YOU CONNECT MORE

INTPs are typically non smokers.

INTPs typically use dark humor.

INTPs usually are atheists.

INTPs are usually emotionally reactive people.

INTPs typically don’t consider themselves smart.

INTPs typically wear glasses.

INTPs usually don’t fear death.

INTPs usually watch horror movies.

INTPs typically have low self-worth.

INTPs are usually short tempered.

[estellardreams]

[Demon King Red AU belongs to @purble-turble] (Lore ramble incoming below)

Okay so... This idea kept circling around in my head and I finally decided to draw it.

Before the question on Lady Bone Demon on the DKR AU, I was always curious on what could've happened if she was ever released.

... At least I'm glad she wasn't. Because if she was then it would've horrifically backfired very quickly.

Taking place mid-season 2 in the timeline, Lady Bone Demon is eventually released by Spider Queen due to discovering the digging site. One thing led to another, she got the key, and released her. Cue the og possessed DBK fight being replaced with a possessed spider queen fight.

This would last for the finale of season one and the opening season two special in terms of time. Once that crashes, LBD retreats into Bai He, infiltrating King Red's council as assistance to return his darling to him.

Now, her main goal at the moment is to grow strong enough to destroy her biggest threats. She assumed King Red wouldn't be a problem.

She was so, so wrong.

King Red was unlike anything she was expecting. Arrogant, paranoid, obsessive, and extremely intelligent. She couldn't even sneak around without cameras glaring her down. Not to mention her and Macaque getting increasingly aggressive with each other over "this bastard put me into this mess" (aka Macaque sided with Red for, one; Wukong and two; to avoid LBD's deal. And LBD for needing to go through the trouble of getting released (even if it was by chance) and jumping between bodies in an attempt to find her perfect match) type of dynamic.

But once LBD regained enough of her power and helped Red "achieve" his destiny of getting his darling MK back, she turns on him.

As the two fight, she begins to take in some of his power, growing stronger by the sheer fierceness of the fire. Her form stabilized rapidly and just as she was able to physically remain out of Bai He's body, the two strike at the same time...

Causing a cataclysmic soul fusion. Macaque rushes to rescue Bai He and brings her out of harms way, hiding from the smoldering figure.

There's no more King or Lady. A new being remained.

And they were even worse than anyone could've anticipated.

So yeah... Mini plot aside on this hypothetical they can control both fire and ice. Though the fire is now blue and the ice is extremely cold. They're two extremes fighting for balance with their only anchor being to shape the world into an image they desire.

Although LBD isn't fond of MK, Red absolutely is and that part overpowers hers, making them absolutely obsessing over their love. To the point that once they got him back, he was locked up in a room of nearly impenetrable ice for his safety. The space is well hidden in the fortress that many rescue attempts have failed because of it.

And Macaque, oh Macaque... His plan backfired in the worst way because not only was he now FORCED to work for his new ruler, but also anytime he tried to escape or step out of line he'd get punished severely. With Red's half being okay with using physical force (though preferring technology to subdue) and LBD holding seething anger towards the shadow monkey for abandoning her, you get a recipe for pretty severe physical abuse. Think of broken bones, frostbite and second degree burns.

And then you got everyone else, who were all forced to evacuate lest they get swallowed up by the raging blue fires and ice spikes taking over the city. After all, you gotta destroy everything to start over, right?

Which leaves us with this turnout: Megapolis and many surrounding lands have become uninhabitable, both MK and Macaque are tortured in the fortress, and there's an extremely powerful soul fusion of two demonic figures with their worst traits amplified and bouncing off of each other.

The Monkie Kids are mainly hiding out wherever possible, most of the time at Flower Fruit Mountain in an attempt to avoid the carnage. Now, their only hope is to find the samadhi fire to vanquish the Lady Bone Demon from King Red... Then, they gotta deal with the other problem.

Not a perfect plan, but it'll hopefully work out, right?

[Edit: Okay I think I'll just call this the Charcoal Bone King AU it's got a nice ring to it anyway]

[valentine-cafe]

1311 Rishima singhania, queen of cunning

[Afab reader]

Just thinking about catching Rishima's eye at a noble gathering!! Finding out that you're a princess from a further land. Chatting each other all night! Until she takes you back into her chambers and fucking you into the mattress for the rest of the day!! Waking up to find that you're all alone with the door locked and a little note telling you that she went to go get food for you! You find yourself not wanting to leave this place!:D

-🍄

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : secret menu !! . . . vampire queen ⊹ afab reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢���𝑖𝑛𝑔​​​​​​​﹕vamp au ꮽ  rishima singhania

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀﹕a cold-hearted, frighteningly intelligent vampire queen

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... you caught her eye, now she wants to keep you ⊹ cw ٬٬ prior smut . kidnapping . obsession .

Don't you know, sweet bird, you signed up for this. Fluttered into her grasp and showed her your beautifuls song. Could she truly be blamed for wishing to cage a pretty little dove?

"My lady," you whimper from the other side of the door. Not much can be heard through the cold palace, but you pick up on the light tip tap tip of daggered heels to marble. "My Queen - please, I must return to my kingdom."

Silence. Chills prick your spine. A shriek tears from your throat as a cold touch clasps your waist. You slump to the door. Wide eyed and frightened to turn.

"Why . . ."

How did she get in here?

"This is your kingdom, my beautiful songbird." Ice traces your your ear in the form of kisses. You shiver as her cool body flushes you into the door. Pale skin flushes to yours as lean, bony fingers lace between yours.

"This is your hom now, where might you go?"

Her kisses are sweet down your neck, but all you taste is poison as she traps you. Pinned by your wings to the wood. Like the sweet bird you are. Like the foolish dove who slew right into a snake's tight jaws.

꒰ ۪ ˖ ࣪ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 ... info ꮽ mlist ꮽ verse ꮽ wiki .

[dr-spectre]

MY SPLATOON OCS!!!

Imma share my Splatoon ocs with you all. I have 6 of them to share and i hope you guys like them. I'll show you what their main outfit is, their secondary outfit, general info, likes, dislikes, favourite idols, stuff like that!

THIS IS A VERY LONG POST SO KEEP THAT IN MIND! I HAVE WARNED YOU!!!!!!!!!!

YOU READY?!? ENJOY!

Sunny

Age: 19, She/Her, Sexuality: Lesbian

Sunny is a 19 year old inkling who attends university. She's very peppy, energetic, outgoing and emotionally intelligent as she's able to pick up on peoples emotions very quickly. Sunny has a large circle of acquaintances but a small group of people she would actually consider friends. Her days are very busy as she juggles between university, hanging out with friends, engaging in hobbies and being with her mum, dad and younger sister.

Although she may seem bubbly and happy on the surface, deep down she has tons of spiraling thoughts in her head that she constantly tries to shut down by keeping herself busy, which leads to her being exhausted after each day. She cannot handle darkness and pure silence and needs nightlights and white noise to help her sleep.

Likes:

Shopping

Dress up

Fighting games

90s style Anime (not actual 90s anime, just anime in the style from our 90s in the splatoon world)

Sports/outdoor activities

Ice cold drinks and spicey food

Dislikes:

Bugs

Darkness

Cold weather

Birds

Loneliness

Country music

Favourite weapon: Hero shot

Favourite sub weapon: Burst Bomb

Favourite special: Trizooka

Favourite Idol: Frye - Loves her feisty personality and rooting for an underdog. She managed to grab a selfie with her out of sheer luck and has kept that photo ever since in her locker.

Fun trivia: She was the second Splatoon oc i came up with, i used a female Inkling for Splatoon 3 at launch and after making a gear set for competitive play, the idea of Sunny came into my brain and she was slowly developed from there.

V

Age: 20, He/Him, Sexuality: Heterosexual

V is a 20 year old Inkling who used to live in Inkopolis before moving to Splatsville after the Final Fest as it was cheaper to live there. He is quite shy and non-talkative most of the time and he genuinely likes to be by himself. However that doesn't mean he is rude, he's very caring and compassionate but he's not the best at expressing that kindness due to poor social skills.

He spends a lot of time in ranked matches to earn money where he grew a name for himself and his aggressive playstyle with his main being the Roller class. V used to do Salmon Runs as well before quitting after it became too stressful for him. When he's not doing turf war matches or ranked, he loves to lounge about, playing video games, listening to music and engaging in Idol content.

However, V is quite sensitive and any sort of comment or judgement from teammates in matches will make him shut himself off and try his hardest not to cry. He also has anger issues and can let his anger get the best of him. Due to him overusing the Kraken Royale special in matches, it gave him... unwanted side effects...

If he becomes too angry he will transform into a kraken and go on a rampage. Another side effect from abusing the Kraken Royale special is that he also has the ability to grow squid tentacles from anywhere on his body which he can control like arms. Although he doesn't use this ability in matches as it would get him into trouble.

Likes:

Video games/Video game collecting

High paced music (Drum and Bass)

Photography

Painting

Cold weather

Milkshakes

Dislikes:

Condescending people

Tight clothing

Flying insects

Most vegetables

Splattercolour screen

Unexpected routine changes

Favourite weapon: Splat Roller

Favourite sub weapon: Splat Bomb

Favourite special: Kraken Royale

Favourite Idol: Callie - Is a massive fan of hers and has tons of merch of her. His friends make fun of him for his obsession which makes V feel incredibly embarrassed and blush like no tomorrow. He sleeps with a Callie plushie every night to help himself fall asleep.

He even got to meet her during his birthday when he was out with some friends in Inkopolis Plaza. He was stuttering and was extremely nervous when talking to her, but Callie just wished him a happy birthday, gave him a hug and her signature on the inner part of his visor. She even told him that if he wants someone to talk to he can just knock on the window at Inkopolis Plaza, and he did just that the next day.

Fun trivia: V was the first Splatoon oc i made. He is based off of the Inkling i used to rock in Splatoon 2 and i developed a character based on that. the name "V" comes from the animal, vampire squid. The kraken and tentacle abilities he has are inspired by the Venom symbiote in Spider-Man media and the classic Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde dynamic in media.

Hapalo

Age: 21, He/Him, Sexuality: Asexual

Hapalo is a 21 year old Octoling born in the Octarian domes and was brought to the surface with his family when he was VERY young. He is a kind soul and brings a gentle vibe with him. He is very interested in Inkling culture and loves exploring and consuming new art, writing, movies, tv shows, music, etc. whenever he can. He also does poetry and other forms of writing to express himself. He even won writing competitions at school at Inkopolis and he still keeps those cheap plastic medals up on his wall.

Hapalo also works at a library where he sorts books and manages things. He sometimes reads stories to young Inklings and Octolings and he's always delighted to interact with them. He even sometimes sneaks in milk cartons for all of the kids when his supervisor isn't looking.

However, Hapalo is very against getting into arguments and anything too overwhelming. Anything that disrupts his chill mood makes him incredibly upset and he needs to be alone to calm down. He's also very sensitive to certain sounds, smells, tastes and textures.

Likes:

Writing

Movie nights

Sushi

Swimming (in Ink pools... not water)

Birds

Tableturf card collecting

Dislikes:

Arguments

Drinks with solids in them

Mayonnaise

Crowded spaces

Social media

Unorganised areas

Favourite weapon: Snipewriter 5H

Favourite sub weapon: Sprinkler

Favourite special: Tacticooler

Favourite Idol: Marina - Finds her cute and loves her style of music. He also finds some relatability in her as she's also an Octoling. He got to meet her during the Final Fest and they talked about Inkling and Octoling culture and art.

Fun trivia: Hapalo's name is based on the scientific name for a blue-ringed octopus Hapalochlaena lunulata. I came up with the idea of him based on the male Octoling that i used to use in Splatoon 2, however i only started developing him months back.

Bloom

Age: 20, She/Her, Sexuality: Bisexual

Bloom is a 20 year old Octoling who grew up in a chaotic household in Eeltail Alley with five younger brothers and a mother who has gotten pretty sick. She is pure chaos incarnate, she's extremely energetic, excitable, sassy and is always looking to get rough and dirty. Bloom is always out and about, riding an old motorbike, rock climbing and sneaking into gyms to work out for free as the memberships are too expensive for her. She even attends motorbike races and dirt bike competitions as a racer which gives her some decent cash.

Although she still comes home on time to take of her brothers and her mother. She has a kind heart but she won't miss an opportunity to push peoples buttons which can land her into trouble.

Bloom also has an interest in the water ever since she was a kid. She would often put her finger and other limbs in bodies of water to see how they would react to it.

However, she often acts very jokey and silly with others in order to hide pain she's feeling. Bloom worries about her mother constantly and dooms over if something bad is gonna happen to her and her brothers. She'll tend to isolate herself from others or be overly attached to her friends.

Likes:

Her family

Old machinery

Motorcycles

Working out

Dancing

Fizzy drinks

Dislikes:

School

Winter clothes

Sleep

Really sterile places

Charger mains

Choc mint ice cream

Favourite weapon: Luna Blaster

Favourite sub weapon: Fizzy Bomb

Favourite special: Zipcaster

Favourite Idol: Pearl - She loves listening to her raps and enjoys her spunky energy. Bloom managed to meet Pearl when Off the Hook were touring near Splatsville. Pearl took a breather and that's when Bloom found her and said how much she loves her music and how she's a big fan. Pearl was a little put off by her energy at first but eventually warmed up to the excited Octoling and gave her a fist bump and a thank you.

Fun trivia: Her name is based off of a name for a group of jellyfish. I decided to base her name from that because the colour and hair choice i picked for her reminded me of jellyfish.

Lilly

Age: 18, She/Her, Sexuality: Bisexual

Lilly is an 18 year old Inkling who is the younger sister to Sunny. She is sort of a shut in and spends most of her time indoors on her PC. She used to be talkative at school, but over years of bullying and being talked down to by everyone, she became a recluse and avoids going outside due to anxiety and a skin condition that makes her sensitive to sunlight so she always brings an umbrella with her when going out on a bright day.

Lilly is a digital artist and hoarder of random technology, ranging from old laptops, hard drives, video game consoles and rhythm game controllers like guitars and DJ turntables. She runs a website where she takes commissions, although she doesn't get much money it's still pretty good cash. She doesn't attend school and still lives with her parents.

She can be quite cheeky and has a weird way with her words that make interacting her feel... off. She can also be quite perverted in her speech but she won't push any boundaries if the other person is uncomfortable by her.

Likes:

Technology

Drawing

Rhythm games

Coffee

Anime

Her older sister Sunny

Dislikes:

Outdoor activities

Sunlight

Fruit

Vegetables

Hot weather

Very outgoing people

Favourite weapon: Recycled Brella

Favourite sub weapon: Autobomb

Favourite special: Crab Tank

Favourite Idol: Marie - Finds her extremely attractive and cool. She was her sexual awakening when she saw Marie dance from a video online. Lilly even purchased a giant Marie plushie to snuggle with and has kept hidden from her family in her cluttered closet.

Fun trivia: Lilly is based off of Futaba Sakura from Persona 5. I wanted to have a character that is similar to her, down to the colour choice and personality.

Shinobu

Age: 22, She/Her, Sexuality: Heterosexual

Shinobu is a 22 year old Octoling who grew up in the Octarain domes. She always had trouble in school and was talked down to by her instructors and parents. She was told to "be more disciplined! Be like other Octolings! Stop being lazy!" She was even physically abused by her parents and decided enough was enough and ran away to the surface at age 13, determined to leave her old life behind and start a new.

She quickly adapted to Inkling culture and learnt the language at an insane speed, all fueled by the pain of her past. In fact she adapted so quickly people often mistook her as an Inkling. Shinobu learnt the ways of turf war and discovered a new obsession and career path, music production. She grew a name for herself as an indie music artist and currently has 3 albums with 13 songs in each. She has a unique musical style that involves sampling the Idols' vocals and making tracks that blend jungle drum and bass, and pop.

She also became obsessed with fashion and is always constantly making new outfits for herself. Shinobu also has a rare disorder that affects the pigment in her ink which causes it to switch between purple and pink at random. Although it doesn't cause her any pain fortunately.

Shinobu is bold, highly determined and sure of herself. She cannot be manipulated or mind controlled. You give her the hypnoshades? She ain't getting hypnotised. You give her the Controller VM? Nothing will happen. However if she hears the Calamari Inkantation she can't help herself and starts dancing like crazy.

She has a chill demeanor and never lies no matter what, she is always compelled to tell the truth even if it'll hurt her or the other person. She is also very empathic and understanding of others and will always be there for her friends and the ones she loves.

Shinobu also has a very excited side to her when alone or with someone she's very close with. She has a huge smile on her face, is very touchy and is giddy.

However she often suffers from nightmares and anxiety which cause her to not get very much sleep. She's sort of a night owl and not by choice...

Likes:

Reading

Plushies

Tea

Roller skating

Pajamas

Tableturf card battles

Dislikes:

Small or cramped spaces

Heavy metal music

Sand

Public transport

Loud sounds

Messy places

Favourite weapon: Splatana Stamper and Charcoal Decavitator

Favourite sub weapon: Burst Bomb

Favourite special: Inkjet

Favourite Idol: Shiver - Loves her style of singing and how she's a shark tamer. She often watches videos of her performances and gets all giddy and yells when Shiver does kakegoe.

Fun trivia: Shinobu is based off of the character of the same name in No More Heroes, Shinobu. I wanted to make a Splatoon oc that was a cool fighter that wields a Splatana and i developed the idea from there.

Sunny's relationships

V: Solid friends

Hapalo: Good acquaintances but nothing too special

Bloom: BESTIES!

Lilly: Love her to death

Shinobu: Thinks she has cool style

V's relationships

Sunny: Cool gal

Hapalo: Friend since school

Bloom: Likes her energy

Lilly: Think she's funny and a good time on voice calls

Shinobu: Girlfriend, loves her a ton : )

Hapalo's relationships

Sunny: Likes her positive attitude

V: Hope he's doing okay

Bloom: Not on good terms after an... incident at the library...

Lilly: Impressed by her art skills

Shinobu: Feels bad for her

Bloom's relationships

Sunny: BESTIES!!!!!!!!!!

V: Feels like he should open up more but he's still a nice friend

Hapalo: Doesn't like him. Aside from his hair

Lilly: Thinks she's a little weird...

Shinobu: Doesn't like her attitude but feels sorry for her past

Lilly's relationships

Sunny: Little jealous of her but still loves her

V: A good friend to play games with

Hapalo: Doesn't understand how he thinks her art is good...

Bloom: A bit put off by her energy...

Shinobu: Big fan of her music work

Shinobu's relationships

Sunny: Thinks she's nice but is worried about her busy life

V: Boyfriend, loves his gentle and quiet energy

Hapalo: Likes his writing and can relate to him somewhat

Bloom: Respects her love for her family

Lilly: Thinks her art is great and that she should be more confident

Splashtags

Okay that is it for my Splatoon OCS! If you wish to... i dont knowww... draw any of them..... 👉👈 then DM me and i can give you better looks at them!

THANK YOU FOR READING!

[haine-kleine]

Fulfilling my quota of Touyadoomposting by going back to this theory and expanding it. This is mostly a crack theory except instead being funny everything is just horrible lololol

Ok so as silly as the Tenko's entire life being orchestrated by AFO pretty much since he was born reveal was, it also gave us the fact AFO used to have drinking dates with his father specifically for the purpose of making him as abusive to Tenko as possible.

Combine this with the weirdly OOC fact that Enji gave up on achieving the number one place at the ripened age of 20. Sure, Allmight's shining beacon of hope and strength may have been a source of great jealousy for a young and upcoming number two pro hero but come on now. 20 is still a teenager, why are you giving up without even trying.

Enji's admirable hero quality is determination.

No matter how insecure he secretly was, giving up at 20, with a perfectly healthy body, and putting all of his determination into making a kid with a quirk stronger than his own and making that kid achieve his dream in his place, is not even backwards logic, it makes absolutely no sense. Enji is not even one of the quirks obsessed characters, he has never been interested in anyone's quirk besides his own and his sons'. Despite his weakness (overheating), he is all about pushing through and overcoming it. To put this shortly, Enji is dumb as a shoe a very single-minded person. This is simply not someone who would entertain such concepts as perfect quirks or eugenics.

You know who does though? Yeah, this guy.

Enji is ruled by his emotions and has tragically low emotional intelligence. This makes him very susceptible to manipulations. And AFO is one hell of a manipulator. A villain obsessed with destroying Allmight and the number two hero who dreams of throwing Allmight off his pedestal. Why wouldn't AFO seek him out? If he saw that seed of self-doubt and carefully nurtured it, Enji giving up despite being so young would start making sense. Enji seeking out a quirk marriage would also make sense (I refuse to believe this man is the only one who came up with this idea in the entire manga). He clearly didn't know what he was doing.

Even choosing a Himura as a candidate for his little eugenics experiment would start making sense if it was actually AFO's suggestion. The Himuras are famous for their strong ice quirks, and Enji's goal was creating a heir whose heat tolerance would be higher than his. This is basic logic. Having babies with a woman who has an ice quirk and is vulnerable to heat won't land you any kids with a fire tolerance higher than your own. He set himself up for failure, they all came out like Touya

Granting Enji's logical thinking abilities the benefit of doubt, we look the other way and spot Garaki being involved in this case. AFO wanting to see what would come out of genetically combining strong ice and fire quirks just for the sake or his curiousity makes so much more sense than Enji being unable to comprehend his choice for the quirk marriage wasn't even fit for his goal. Touya did eventually end up in AFO and Garaki's child laboratory, which was the purpose of Garaki fronting as a quirks doctor for kids. And Enji was in contact with Garaki since Touya was 4 years old.

Also makes for such an evil irony that Touya's trauma stems from him seeking a reason for his existence and not finding one. And the entire reason for his very birth is just AFO being a cold-blooded quirkist manipulator

[kymerawrites]

Maffia x Simon Riley

“Do-don’t…stop” I moaned. (A few moments earlier)

Warning: FINGERING/Mastrubation

It’s been a few months since I found a new member, ghost, he wasn’t just another member we had something more, one time counting my money he stood there. Always with that mask. I was only wearing a bikini sitting in my safe with the millions of money I made that day from various deals and smuggles.

He just stood there, so stoic. And he couldn’t get his eyes of me.

She was sitting on a pile of money it may be were millions of dollars. She looks stunning, incredible. I couldn’t deny for a mafia woman. She was one of the most confident people I’ve ever seen, but I came here with a task, to take her down.

But no one knows that yet, I’m infiltrating her drugs business, she thinks I’m just another one of her new partners

She’s extremely intelligent and extremely seductive, she’s the most skilled assassin I’ve ever met. Her business is extremely profitable. Making 13 billion dollars a year.

She also believes she is untouchable as she’s in control of the police, government, justice and courts, so you can understand why she didn’t hesitate to let me join one of her main drug trades.

She’s extremely manipulative, cunning, calculating and cold hearted. She’s extremely dangerous and she has so much power I would need a the 141 and other teams to infiltrate her business.

As I stood there, looking at her I couldn’t help but admire how stunning she is, and then realised how much of a fool I was for getting distracted.

In a bikini she sat on the piles of dollars, just counting and smoking a sigaret.

Every now and then her right hand man, Leo would come and sit next to her. Just watching her count her money while she just sat there not giving a damn as usual. She was in her own world.

The last thing she would want to do is stop her counting, she was that obsessed with money. You could say she loves money more than she loves herself.

She even has a massive vault that stores millions of dollars in the basement. She has no use for it, she just loves looking at it as it makes her feel powerful and special

“Ghost come here..” I looked at Leo and nodded for him to leave

He just nodded and left. She didn’t look up at me, she continued to count. “Take a seat” she said. I sat down next to her watching her continue.

After about 20 to 30 minutes of sitting there watching her count her money, she finally finished. She finally looked up at me with a smile on her face. “Now that’s a lot of money Ghost and that’s only the tip of the ice berg” she said.

I picked up a 1000 dollar stash and threw it to him “this is maybe 0,001% of my fortune. You can have it ofcourse buy urself something.. nice” she smiled

She was very generous but she loved showing off how much fortune she has, which is understandable as she worked hard for it. She was always showing off her wealth, but she still always managed to look hot.

“What’s wrong Ghost, cat got your tongue?” She said teasing me. She knew exactly how hot she is and it worked to her advantage to get anyone to do her bidding.

She then got up and went to her table to roll a cigarette. I sat and watch her do it making sure I didn’t check her out, I couldn’t afford any distractions. I was there to get intel after all.

But the way she walked, her body somehow I already felt distracted again by her and she noticed it

She looked over at me with a slight smirk on her face. It was hard to tell what she was thinking, she is very skilled at making herself unreadable which is annoying sometimes.

She looked at me straight in the eyes which was almost hypnotising, just looking at her face, her lips etc and then she finally spoke. “Enjoying the view Ghost?” She said.

She then came to sit next to me very close, she put her hand on my knee, she looked at me with that seductive look again. “You’re always so serious Ghost, I’ve always admired that about you” she was so close I could feel and smell her breath, she was breathtaking.

I had seen her with a lot of other men but she never looked at them the same way she looked at me, I was flattered. I can’t remember the last time I was flattered. “Would you like a cigarette Ghost?” She said. She knew I was a smoker, she knew a lot about me actually. I just nodded.

She rolled one out for me and put it to my mouth, she put her lighter to it, she lit the cigarette. I took a drag, it was a nice cigarette, she knew what I liked. She then put the cigarette to her mouth taking a drag and blew it in my face, she was flirting with me.

As she blew the smoke in my face she smirked at me again and said “did you like it?” She was so seductive and so irresistible but I wasn’t there to flirt, I was there for intel which is harder than it sounds because of her.

I just nodded and she didn’t look pleased with my answer, she wanted me to respond. “Use your words Ghost” she just ordered me. She was always so demanding, she is so used to being in control, she is one of those women who demands respect and gets it.

I felt another rank here, it was always my job as a lieutenant to do what she’s doing now, but guess that changed

She then puts her hand on my mask which surprised me and said “but you’re so handsome Ghost, I can get lost in your eyes” she then took another drag of her cigarette. Her hand felt so soft on my hidden face yet it was amazing. She had an amazing way with words and making people feel special, not in a manipulative way, it was just part of her charm.

Her eyes always lit up when she looked at me, she always looked at me in a way she didn’t look at other men. “You have the most beautiful eyes Ghost, it’s a shame you hide them” she said looking deeply into my eyes through the mask. I didn’t know what to say, this is the first time I’ve ever heard her express how she feels about me.

She then continued, “but I can understand why you hide your handsome face, I think it’s sexy, it makes you look mysterious” she continued to stare at me. It was hard to look back at her, I was too distracted.

She must’ve been in the mood as she continued to flirt with me. She sat closer to me, her hand was on my knee again. This time I couldn’t resist, I put my hand on her cheek, I saw a little smirk on her perfect face.

“I never had sex in a vault with money before..” I said to ghost. I actually never did that, I always had ‘vanilla’ men that adorned me, but ghost… he hid, he was mysterious something I felt attracted to. Plus points to the tall and muscular physique of course.

Ghost seemed also in the mood, I looked like I wanted it though, I really did. This man had a charme on me like I had on him. I looked on the stack and layed down

I couldn’t resist any longer, I climbed on top of her. When I did she started to stroke the back of my head with her nails which felt so good and relaxing. I started to kiss her neck as she closed her eyes and felt that she was starting to moan.

As I was kissing her neck, she pushed me away and said “wait a minute Ghost” she then got up as she looked for something under her desk, I just sat watching her, waiting for her.

She had a smirk as she found what she was looking for, a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. She sat back down on the money. I could tell she wanted to spend this night with me.

She handed me a shot glass, she then started to pour the whiskey into the glass. she was looking at me with those bright seductive eyes of hers. She then took a shot and then handed me my glass. I downed it and she looked impressed with my drinking skills.

She then held my hand and kissed it, she was so charming that it almost made me forget that she was a dangerous assassin, but even after knowing that information I couldn’t help but feel attracted to her.

Ice and fire couldn’t go together, and if so it was a dangerous game we were playing.

She then put her glass down and slid my mask up just above my lip and kissed me, she took the lead and I allowed it, I have never felt so passionately kissed like this by a woman. It was intoxicating, I was getting lost in the moment.

We ended up making out on top of all that money, with her on top of me. I had my hand behind her back and one on her hip. She was so dominant but I liked it, it was attractive.

I started to put my hands on the rim of her bikini as we are making out, I wanted to feel her body, she didn’t say anything, she just continue to kiss me.

As we are making out she suddenly grabbed my wrists and pulled them away from her bikini, she got up looked at me intensely and said “not so fast Ghost” she was still on top of me as she said that.

“Money takes time but this p#ssy also does, don’t make it lame”

“You’re right but I’m sure you’ll be worth it” I said. She smirked and said “of course I will be worth it” she was so full of herself but I respected her so it didn’t bother me. We both then just sat quietly listening for anyone but it was quiet so it was just the two of us.

I started to unzip his pants, this might be the best sex I’ll ever get

She started unbuttoning my shirt and kissing my chest which felt incredible. I could tell she was skilled by the way she was handling me like a pro.

I started to grab her hips and pull her closer to me, I could tell she was excited as she let out a little moan as she continued to kiss my chest.

I started to untie her bikini as I looked in her eyes as she looked straight at me, she smiled at me as I knew I got her approval.

Her bikini came off and I admired how beautiful her body looked, it was perfect. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her, she was breathtaking.

She then climbed on top of me and started kissing my neck. It was very seductive, even her breathing was attractive. As she started to bite my neck I could tell she was about to retake control.

She had a firm grip on my shoulders as she stared at me with her seductive eyes, I was hypnotized by her beauty.

I looked him in the eye and only nodded, a sign he could have his time to shine

I started grabbing her hips and started to kiss her all over her body. As I was doing it I felt her shiver which was a good sign, she liked the way I was handling her.

She laid back as she started to let out moans, I loved the noises she made. I started kissing her stomach and then her chest. At this point, I didn’t care if the moans attracted anyone to the basement.

I made my way to her thighs leaving a trail of kisses as she continued to moan but she tried to keep her voice down. Once I reached her thighs, I started to kiss and bite them which made her shiver.

My breath was hot which made her shiver more. I felt her shake a bit as I was kissing her thighs, she was so sensitive to my touch which was attractive because I knew I was making her feel good.

I started to bite harder as she started to close her eyes, she took in all the pleasure. I then continued up her body to her chest, kissing and biting her body while she continued to moan.

At this point, I could tell she was losing control. I continued up to her neck and started biting her again. She was making so many noises but she couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

I got rid of the last piece of clothing I had on

At this point, we were both fully naked. She wrapped her legs around me which made me want her even more. She was so good at making me want her.

We laid on the piles of money as we started to make out again, she was so good at it. I could tell she really wanted me as she started sucking on my tongue and biting down on my lip.

At this point, the noises we were making were getting louder. She grabbed onto me and started to scratch my back as we kept kissing passionately.

She then started to nibble on my neck which felt incredible, I started feeling all sorts of emotions, this woman was amazing.

“Please..” she said begging for my touch inside her

I heard her plead which sent a shiver down my spine and I couldn’t resist her. The way she said it made me want her even more.

I started to run my hand down to between her legs, she tensed up

I could hear the desperation in her voice which just made me even more attracted to her. I started to touch her gently and she started to moan again.

I watched her facial expressions when I was touching her, she looked so beautiful. I started to make a circular motion with my thumb, and she started to breathe faster.

I could tell she wasn’t used to being touched like this as she started closing her eyes again and letting out loud moans.

I was touching her gently as my hands were exploring her body. I could tell she was enjoying being touched by me, she held onto me as I continued.

I watched for her facial expressions and she was so immersed in the moment, her moaning and breathing sounded so seductive as I continued to touch her.

I went faster and harder

She started making louder noises as I started to move my thumb quicker, she held on to me and scratched my back with her red long nails.

I couldn’t believe how much I was affecting her with just my hands.

I made her moan louder and louder, she was enjoying every moment of it.

“D-don’t stop” I moaned

His hands on me felt incredible, no one ever touched my like this and it felt addicting.

Ghost just smirked he knew that he could make me feel pleasured.

“I…oh my god.. I think I’m going to.. come” I moaned and breathed heavily

I let out another moan and started holding on to the once straight and flat money, I was on the edge, my walls clenching to his fingers.

He let out a quiet, amused chuckle under his mask, his gloved lips curling into a smirk as he felt your inner walls clenching around his fingers.

"Someone's getting a bit too excited, it would seem." He teased quietly.

He chuckled softly against your ear. "You are so vocal." He whispers, biting your earlobe. "No need to hide your pretty sounds, love." He adds in a low, seductive tone as he continues rocking his fingers into you.

This man was driving you insane something that wasn’t be done before. Trembling and arching your back. "Please... I... I can't..." You gasped, your breaths ragged as you felt your release building.

he knew exactly how to touch you to drive you to the edge. But no matter how much you begged, He just wouldn't let you come... Not yet. It was a little payback for making it hard on getting intel on you

After a while I felt it coming, the feeling of an orgasm was intense. I moaned and breathe deeply after that.

Ghost slowly got his fingers out of my cunt it was dripping.

[that-one-creepy-hoe]

do you have like general or relationship head canons for ej? :)

I love talking about one of my 348 husbands!1!1

Eyeless Jack General + Relationship Hcs

Warnings:Basically fluff, EJ just being autistic, I think I used no pronouns I think Pairings: EyelessJack x GN!Reader

General HeadCannons

 He is a very big quiet man

To me, he’s probably 6’’9 at his full height

But he does hunch over a lot because he is aware of how much his height makes some people scared of him

While he typically doesn’t care about if regular people, or if the proxies are scared of him, he does do it mostly so the more timid people don’t get frightened 

He’s basically a mute until he absolutely has to speak

His voice is very rough and deep from years of not being used much

I headcanon him to be autistic with slight OCD issues 

Because of this, he sticks to his routine and wears lots of baggy clothes because he cannot stand most skin-to-skin contact

Actively recoils when people are too close or touch him

Tends to obsessively reorganize his things constantly

While he may seem shy he is not a pushover of any kind

He only knows how to be a weird kind of nice that most people don’t take as nice/ Really cold and distant

He’s kind of like a cat where he just watches people he likes without care

He has lots of scars on his jaw and the corners of his mouth from his teeth(I hc that he clawed through his cheeks when he first turned bc he couldn’t handle the way his teeth felt in his mouth)

He’s always unusually hot or ice cold and really can’t tell too well

If you want to ever get close to him you would most likely need to be close to Hoodie, or Sally

He’s a nice guy just very out of touch with the world around him

Romantic HeadCannons 

If you somehow romanced this man I applaud you because he absolutely hates being around people unless he thinks they’re cute (in a small kid/ pet kind of way) or if they can have an actual intelligent conversation with him(AKA hoodie)

But somehow you have wormed your way into his dead heart and at first he will most definitely hate you for it

He doesn’t like the feeling of being attached at first (Since he’s far too used to people betraying him) but soon he craves for you

Expect him to attempt to have charisma (he has none)

Think crow that gives its favorite human weird gifts 

If you try talking to him that might help just try not to be too loud

Be ready to do enough talking for the both of you

Once he warms up he will speak some here and there

He’ll give you things he thinks you might like such as; books, clothes, trinkets

If you give him things he will absolutely adore you and never get rid of it

You will most definitely have to be the one to initiate a relationship even then he may think your joking

If you reassure him then he’ll get soft for you and let you do things that he would normally hate (EX: touching him, being louder, borrowing his things)

He’s really insecure about himself so be ready to reassure him a bunch

Total romantic lover, poetry, letters, candle-lit dinners, all of it

[horrorfanfelix]

-- PINHEAD x FATEFUL READER

this is something I wouldn't do, but considering how obsessed I am with Mr ww1 survivor over here, I couldn't help myself. if you want plot, i'll give you fucking plot. so, yes. this is a one shot thing. won't be accurate because I'm doing only 2 or 3 posts for the night before I get off and chat w my friend having a sleepover. now, let's get this shit started, huh? <3.

Pinhead smiled, evilly. his mind was set on killing you for opening the box, not seeing your innocence until now. he stood Infront of you, a hesistant look in his dark, dead eyes. you just looked at him, a scared..or.. um? nervous.. look in your eyes, he noticed this and spoke his dead mind., a monotone, and demonic noise.

-

"oh, how i'm finding it rather.. complicated, whether I would like to kill you off, or keep you as my own, my little innocent dove. now, I ask you this. either, work for me, or work with me.. by my side." pinhead chuckled after, dryly. he took your shaky, uneasy hand in his, bending down to kiss it with his pale, ghostly lips. some of his pins poked you from around his lips. he didn't care, though. neither did you.

-

"..ah .. s..so you find me ..i-interesting?" you spoke gently, in a whisper, not daring to move. you knew what this rather sadistic Cenobite was capable of, so you kept your thoughts to hit him and run away, quiet. Pinhead, knowing what you wanted to do, assuming ; not that he could read minds, but because of his intelligence. he always knew what was going to happen, and when it was going to fall over. he knew when you were right, wrong, or even in-between.

-

"indeed I do, mortal. I find you intriguing. very.. much." pinhead's tone gave you shivers. did .. he mean that? or was he going to kill you like the rest of the people he had slaughtered when he was let out of the Lament Configuration. "..uh.. haha-- yeah .. well.. t-thank you, Pinhead. I find it.. nice, to say the least..?"

-

you answered back, not even feeling his ice cold, bloody-finger-tipped hands slip around your waist, pulling you flush against his leather-dress covered body. he smelt like rust and blood. not a good combo, but he wasn't exactly able to wash it off, the nails would hurt like hell. of course, he showered, but with a hair net over his nails like one would with their hair. but, it was to cover his nails. not his hair..

-

"ah. I see, you're shaking, is it because you're scared, or unable to register what you feel, this moment?" how did he catch on so bloody fast? you wondered. not even saying a word, he placed his middle finger and pointer finger into your mouth, the metallic taste was rather.. unappetising, to say the least. he smiled, softly. it wasn't that visible, but when you looked at it the right way, it was seen. not a soft smile, a sinister one.

-

his fingers slipped further, the tips of his fingers pushing down on your tongue. "you know, my beloved mortal, I show affection using pain. pleasure Is not exactly too in my business. if you WANT pleasure, you must work for it." you tried to step back, yet was yanked back into his chest. damn, he must've wanted you to stay still, like ..really wanted you to stay still.

-

Pinhead's gaze laid onto the half of his fingers, still visible. "..mpferpapfa- er- maaugh---" you tried to speak, with half of a dead man's fingers in your mouth. though, Pinhead just laughed it off. his other hand's fingers digging into your skin, not enough to be painful, but enough to show he's aware you are enjoying this. "I know you are into this. do my fingers stay cold? or are they warming up over time. your mouth feels ..rather pleasing. it's like a fish. their insides are quite slimy. you must know that, right?"

he paused for a moment, slipping his fingers deeper in with a weird noise. " you've been human all your life, I have had my time and age slipping away from my human self. though, that has nothing to do with you. unless, you are keen on making me stay? by all means, that would mean I have to bring you to hell. keep you there with me, forever." a gentle look appeared on his face. you looked into each other's eyes, keeping nothing put pure love in your gazes.

-

"..how are..you feeling this? I thought you said Cenobites couldn't feel affection or.. romance?" you asked, yes, he had taught you about how Cenobites really are in the hell realm, but were entirely confused about how he was figuring out these feelings for you. "ah,, my beloved. it's complicated. you're too pure, as I call you, like a dove. if I sent you somewhere, you always would come back, I would send you out, you'd listen and come back, only with little scratches. like a dog, really. or even a messenger owl. there's no messages here, besides upon how I treat you. pain and pleasure are things I THRIVE in. it makes me feel more powerful than I already am to be, dove."

-

he spoke, no tone in his voice, expressionless and monotone. but he meant those words, every goddamn drop. his eyes now seemed to bore into yours. he moved you backwards, but when your back hit the wall, he leaned down to be neck-height, licking a wet, cold stripe up your neck, again, the pins poking you more irritably this time. you let out a whine,, your fingers gripping onto the leather on his shoulders. "damn .. wh- how are you holding that damn thing in your mouth!?" you yelped, shaking him a little.

-

pinhead just laughed, a stern, authoritative sound. "my my.. you've got some ...tender flesh. you're aware I could cut it, for myself, correct? such tender flesh shouldn't be wasted. that is why I shall adore it, worship it like a god I do not have." he leaned forward once more, licking up your neck, yet again, he yanked your head back, and blew cold, smoke onto the wet area, making you shiver. goddamn it, that was cold!.

(yeah. my fingers hurt like hell this is all youre getting.. waaah waaah waaah.. deal with it/j)

hope you enjoyed! -- I LOVE YALL N TUMBLR.

[theink-stainedfolk]

New WIP!!!

A Colder Kind of Fire

---

In a world where loyalty is currency and trust is a knife to the throat, Yannis Gailamas and Mirek Lebedev are elite operatives bound by a partnership as volatile as the missions they undertake. Yannis—cold, controlling, and carved from violence—meets his match in Mirek, a razor-tongued strategist whose icy composure hides a defiance no one has ever dared to wield against him.

Their dynamic is a war of quiet glances and unspoken threats, a push-and-pull of dominance and restraint. But when whispers of a rogue agent, Eidolon, begin unraveling the agency’s darkest secrets, Yannis and Mirek are forced to confront the dangerous truth: the greatest threat might not be the enemy in the shadows, but the fire igniting between them.

---

Yannis Gailamas

Age: 32

Birthday: November 12

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Ethnicity: Greek-French

Height: 6'2" (188 cm)

Build: Lean but defined, wiry strength

Eyes: Dark amber, almost gold under certain light

Hair: Jet black, cropped neatly with a slight wave

Skin Tone: Olive-toned with occasional bruises and cuts

Dominant Hand: Right

Style: Tailored and militant—black trench coats, tactical boots, fitted shirts, leather gloves

Personality & Traits

✔ Calculating

✔ Possessive

✔ Ruthlessly intelligent

✔ Short-tempered

✔ Fiercely territorial

✔ Emotionally repressed

✔ Control-freak

Likes & Dislikes

✅ Likes:

The silence before a kill

Precision weapons

Mirek’s silences (though he'd never admit it)

Thunderstorms

Power dynamics

The idea of owning someone completely

❌ Dislikes:

Being disobeyed

Emotionally vulnerable conversations

Weakness in others (and in himself)

Disloyalty

Alcohol (it dulls his instincts)

Mirek ignoring him

Favorite Food:

Lamb souvlaki with tzatziki

Dark chocolate with sea salt

Strong, bitter espresso

A Line That Defines Him:

"Obey me or bleed—I don’t care which you choose, as long as you don’t walk away."

Mirek Lebedev

Age: 29

Birthday: March 2

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Ethnicity: Russian-Ukrainian

Height: 6'0" (183 cm)

Build: Toned, swimmer’s build with long limbs

Eyes: Steel grey

Hair: Ash brown, undercut with the top swept loosely

Skin Tone: Pale with a cool undertone

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous (naturally left-handed)

Style: Minimalist—dark turtlenecks, gloves, long coats; always neat, almost too perfect

Personality & Traits

✔ Stoic

✔ Razor-tongued

✔ Intimidatingly calm

✔ Emotionally unreadable

✔ Sharp-witted

✔ Secretly nurturing (in strange ways)

✔ Willing to wound to protect his boundaries

Likes & Dislikes

✅ Likes:

Quiet mornings

Puzzles & cryptic messages

Watching Yannis unravel

Ice baths

Books on human psychology

Sweet milk tea

❌ Dislikes:

Being underestimated

Loud, impulsive people

Unnecessary bloodshed

Authority figures

Cigarette smoke

Being touched without consent

Favorite Food:

Honey cake (Medovik)

Black tea with condensed milk

Cold soba noodles

A Line That Defines Him:

"You want control, but I’m not afraid to make you bleed for it."

Extra Details & Their Dynamic

Yannis pushes; Mirek lets him—until he pushes back harder.

Their chemistry is explosive, shifting between violence and intimacy.

Mirek never raises his voice; his silence cuts deeper than shouting.

Yannis is obsessed with Mirek’s reactions—those rare moments when his mask cracks.

Mirek is the only one Yannis hasn’t been able to fully control—and it’s driving him mad.

---

My ♡s: @paeliae-occasionally @willtheweaver @drchenquill @wyked-ao3 @the-inkwell-variable @corinneglass1 @seastarblue @keeping-writing-frosty @oliolioxenfreewrites @vesanal @orphanheirs @dauntlessdraupadi @oros-ash3s @pheonix358