game prompt: tag 9 people you’d like to know better ᯓ★
thank you for tagging me, @karasong <33 it's always a treat to know more about you !!
reading: the last book i picked up was bird box (but i've already read it three times)
last series watched: street food: asia
last film: rewatched jurassic park !!
last song: alien observer by grouper
salty or sweet: salty, always
coffee or tea: coffee, though i'm trying to drink more tea
working on: two separate cities/kingdoms (?) in minecraft, a terrible painting that might not ever be finished, and i'm planning to work on my wips again after taking a small break :p
np tags: @sheepispink @mxxnechos @soulsforsales @batwngs @batslilwhore @bloodinroses @kitkatlover17 @corameiwrites @cannibiscorpse & those who'd like to join <33
reading: this amazing book by Iris Chang which idk if I can write on here bc of the title?? I linked it anyway; The Jail Diary of Albie Sachs (it's a play and it's so good)
last series i watched: Ozark
last film: God's Crooked Lines - Good, very shutter island-ish with hints of the shining and 7 prisoners - this one is a MUST is so good
last song: You've really got a hold on me -The Miracles and Bohemian like you- The Dandy Warhols
salty or sweet: SWEET bc I have the palate of a 5 year old, im genuinely surviving on white rice and vegan nuggets but if I could eat sweets for the rest of my life I would
coffee or tea: well I love coffee but only when I make it at home as the pretentious Italian I am , love me some earl grey tea bc I like to cosplay a British person from time to time
working on: Gyro's modern au fic, Diego's modern au fic, spin off of sbr Diego series, and 5/6 sbr drabbles im not convinced of, one of which is rdr2 inspired Johnny centric but still aint sure
tagging! @zucu @aesgarta @genesiswrld @partycemetery @lovelacesonnette @raejoestar @dotfuzzy @tynnyfer22 and anyone who'd like to join I'd love to know more about you!!!
reading: Princess Academy by Shannon Hale, currently rereading Toilet Bound Hanako Kun!
last series i watched: I’m currently watching One Piece (oh boy..) and Revolutionary Girl Utena
last film: Interstellar (I don’t watch films that often, but I got reaaally bored while I was on break)
last song: I can’t read kanji, but I know that it was one of the songs from Sheena Ringo’s teacup looking album… [HERE] i loooovvveee sheena ringo i love
salty or sweet: I’ve been a sweet tooth since birth lololol, I also prefer eating 3 sweet snacks along with 1 salty/savory snack
coffee or tea: TEA especially when it’s herbal/fruity and prepared with milk and honey.., it reminds me of my mom and whenever I drink tea like that I start ascending
working on: So many art WIPS: Holy Quintet redesign (I’m having trouble with Madoka and Homura rn….), a drawing of my enneagram tritype featuring the redesigns of someone’s enneagram sprites, my birthday art(?), that one BANG! animatic that I keep seeing on my FYP… I’m also still thinking of how to plan and write a fanfic where Puella Magi Madoka Madoka’s magical girl/power system is present in the same universe as JJBA’s stand power system.
reading: currently re-reading little women by Louisa may alcott as well as witch hat atelier
last series i watched: currently rewatching the entirety of jjba so I finished part 5 yesterday and I'm about to start part 6 (I'm so fucking scared)
last film: likeee a month ago I finished Veronica (the horror movie) and my ex and why's (huhuhu Enrique)
last song : we'll never have sex by Leith ross/ a pearl by mitski
salty or sweet: both but I get sick of sweets when I have a little too much so I lean to salty more
coffee or tea: coffee all the way 🥹 but I hate it when it's too bitter so I add like a dash of milk so it goes down smoother
working on: A LOTTT rn but namely my twst smau, my Tamsy aphrodisiac req, my enjin smut, and a couple more that are in my drafts and I still have to add tags to cus I'm a lazy bum
AHHHH IM HONORED MOOTIE I FEEL LIKE MARTIN SOBAD RN like “me???🥹🥹🥹”
* reading : circe by madeline miller and re reading kamisama kiss
* last series : i watched: gilmore girls im still only on season one because i procrastinate EVERYTHING😭💔💔
* last film : grave of the fireflies for my east asian studies class and got a 100 on my paper i was snooty asf on 🥹✌️
* last song : everytime by arianna grande
* salty or sweet : i love both so much but i have a slight preference for sweet like im drinking a dr pepper as we speak
* coffee or tea : coffee. i CANNOT stand how tea tastes… even if it’s hidden in a dunkin refresher i’ll still taste it and not drink it, but if im drinking coffee it needs to so sugary i’m most likely gonna be a pre diabetic soon (genetics aren’t helping with ts🥹✌️)
* working on : a lot but i’m doing anything but finishing writing and i went back to drawing again but i am 3/7 housewardens down for angelic reader… i also owe my friends fics for their yumeships but im lowkey a bum so,,,it’s gonna get done whenever…
Warnings: Yandere! Tamsy x fem! Reader, manga spoilers, violence, reader gets hurt, description of blood, gaslighting, near-death experience, Tamsy is an obsessive piece of shit in this
Your mask filter hummed faintly as it worked overtime.
Crouching behind a large refrigerator, you slowly peaked up from your hiding spot to check if things were safe. When you didn’t sense any danger, you stood up fully, clutching your notebook. It didn’t contain any relevant notes yet, but it’d all happened very quickly, so you weren’t gonna stress it. Not everyone was as diligent as Tomme.
A few meters ahead, the corpse of the trash beast was still twitching.
It had been massive, twenty times the height of a person, its body made of fused garbage and jagged rebar, a crooked mouth of shattered glass still grinding weakly against itself. Black sludge leaked from the wounds Tamsy had inflicted upon it.
Tamsy stood beside it, relaxed, like he’d just finished stretching instead of killing something that could’ve crushed a truck. His distaff glowed faintly where he held it, the light slowly dimming as whatever power he’d used faded out.
You tried not to stare.
“You can stop looking like that,” Tamsy said through his mask, flicking something sticky off his sleeve. “It’s dead.”
“I’m not scared.” You said petulantly, annoyed he’d caught you.
“I didn’t say that.” He added on. “I know you’re very brave.”
If it had come from anyone else, it would have sounded blatantly sarcastic. And maybe, just a little, it did. But this was Tamsy. Tamsy was usually so nice, so you told yourself the faint edge of sarcasm had to be in your imagination.
You looked away quickly, pretending to check the horizon instead. The polluted fog blurred everything past a few dozen meters, turning the wasteland into shifting silhouettes.
“I was just making sure there weren’t more,” you muttered.
“Mhm.”
He nudged the beast’s head with the tip of his boot. One of the glass teeth cracked with a dull crunch.
“You supporters worry too much.”
You were glad you were here, and not one of the other supporters. Follo especially would’ve taken very heavy offense to a comment like that. It implied the worry was unfounded, as if it was unnatural to worry when faced with a sharp, sludge-drooling behemoth that wanted to kill you. Instead of saying all that, you just let out a simple: “That thing was huge.”
“And now it’s not a problem.” Tamsy stretched his arms over his head lazily. “See? Easy job. Just like Semiu said.”
Easy.
Right.
You adjusted the strap of your mask, suddenly very aware that you were the one here who hadn’t actually done anything useful. The mission had been simple: escort Tamsy into the zone, observe, and write down anything that was even remotely interesting. You’d written some small stuff down, but the fight had been done too quickly for you to find anything really worth commenting about.
Tamsy lifted his foot off the trash beast corpse, and turned to walk your way, vital instrument lazily swinging side to side in his grip.
That said… Why was the beast still twitching? Was the core still int-
The windmill flank of the trash beast suddenly screeched as it whipped around in a final effort to kill tamsy, flinging a slab of debris outward. Tamsy dodged it, and hit the trash beast with his distaff, the damn thing finally getting flung around and decomposing like it should’ve done to begin with.
The debris, however, was still heading your way.
Your brain reacted before the rest of you did.
No problem. This part you’d practiced. Supporters weren’t frontline fighters, but you still had to survive long enough to observe and give actual support. If one thing had been drilled into you, it’d been on how to dodge trash like this. Your boots landed down on solid ground, a good way’s off from where the projectile had landed, meaning things were gonna be just fine-
Your balance vanished instantly.
“Wha-!”
With an immediate shift in trajectory, you went down hard, suddenly face to face with a very large pile of sharp and rough trash..
Your leg twisted underneath you as you fell, pain exploding up to your thigh as something tore open against the jagged metal. Your arm slammed against a rusted pipe with a sickening crack that echoed through your mask.
For a moment all you could hear was the roaring in your ears.
Everything went white with noise. Your ears roared so loudly it drowned out the polluted wind, the distant creak of shifting scrap- everything, though you were pretty sure you’d let out a cry loud enough to alert any trash beast in a hundred mile region.
It was one of your worst habits, one that the other cleaners hadn’t managed to train out of you yet. Whenever you got hurt, you cried out like you wanted everyone in a wide radius to hear you, which wasn’t an ideal quality in a career where being sneaky and getting hurt often were part of the job.
When your vision finally steadied and you were no longer screeching out of instinct, you raised your head to assuage the damage.
That… that was a lot of blood.
Somewhere nearby, footsteps crunched across rubble.
“Oh dear, you’ve tripped?” Tamsy covered his lower face with his sleeve, in shock at the state of your leg. You couldn’t bring up the energy to snap at him, knowing he didn’t mean it like that, and also you were a bit too focused on the fact that part of your femur was sticking out of your skin. “For a supporter, you sure are clumsy.”
Shame burned inside your stomach, and you couldn’t lift your head up far enough to make eye-contact with the giver. “Yeah, haha, my foot must’ve… must’ve caught on something.”
You huffed out and shakily sat up and grabbed at the top-part of your leg, trying to squeeze your upper leg so it would stop bleeding so profusely. There were protocols for this, but they seemed to elude you at the moment. Calling for back-up was the best option, right? But it was just you and Tamsy here, and he was way more experienced than you, and he’d yet to even touch his choker. Was there a reason… not to?
Were you missing something?
“I should… call back-up, right?” What you should’ve done in the first place was accept Gris’ offer to come along back at the base. He’d have you bandaged and in a car within mere minutes. But you’d been prideful, telling him Semiu had specifically said the job was supposed to be an easy one, one that only needed a single giver and a lil back-up just in case. Tamsy had even specifically asked for you! “That’s what… I should do.”
“Are you asking me?” Tamsy said softly, sitting next to you. “What do you think?”
You tried to focus. No problem, of course, you’d been trained for this.
You tried to recount the moment. You’d dodged, your foot had caught on something, and then you’d gone down hard, straight into a heap of broken concrete and twisted pipes. In a strange stroke of luck, it was only your leg that had broken so badly. Still, the pounding in your skull and the nausea curling in your stomach made it pretty clear you’d hit your head too.
A trash beast had been killed. You had been sent to observe.
“My head feels weird,” you murmured, reaching for your notebook to record the observation. Your fingers fumbled for the pen, your grip unsteady as if the thing had suddenly become too heavy to hold. You tried to write, aware of Tamsy watching while you struggled to form the word concussion.
He came closer and his hand slipped around yours, steadying it. Through the blur in your vision, you watched as he guided your hand across the page, helping you finish the letters.
When the last squiggly ‘n’ was written, you smiled at the notebook, before smiling at him as well. “Thank you for your help.”
His eyes crinkled over his mask. “It’s my pleasure.”
A few more moments passed.
As if realizing you needed to complete the next part of your internal mission, you clumsily raised your hand to try and touch your choker to reach Semiu. Tamsy grabbed your hand and lowered it again, gently. You looked at him, confused.
His eyes crinkled, still smiling.
“Tamsy?” You said softly.
“Yes?” He replied, cheerily.
“Why aren’t we calling for back-up?” Your gaze dropped to your ruined leg. A wave of panic twisted through your stomach as you noticed the bone jutting through the skin again. God. Once the haze wore off and you weren’t half-dissociated anymore, that was going to hurt like hell. “I’m hurt.”
“Don’t you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Oh dear… did you hit your head that hard?”
Before you could react, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He nuzzled his forehead gently against yours, making sure the mask didn’t get in the way.
“You must be in a lot of pain.” He said breathlessly.
“Huh?” You officially lost it. What was going on? Why was he acting this strange? Was he twirling around the subject, or were you really that concussed? You struggled a little to get out of his embrace, but to him, it probably felt like you were settling into his embrace. You could do little but let out another. “...huh?”
Tamsy pulled away from your face and your eyes widened as you saw blood on his mask. Was your head bleeding? That did make things way worse. Why wasn’t he panicking like you were?
“Tamsy? Why aren’t we calling back-up?” You asked again.
“You just asked me that.” He replied. “Are you dizzy? Why don’t you lie down for a bit.”
“You aren’t answering me.”
The wind dragged through the polluted zone again, pushing gray dust over the broken concrete around you. Somewhere behind Tamsy, the corpse of the trash beast shifted as pieces of it settled, metal clinking softly against itself.
Tamsy tilted his head a little, like he was considering something amusing.
“Oh,” he said lightly. “Didn’t I?”
“No.” Your voice came out weaker than you meant it to. “You didn’t.”
Your head swam. The world kept tilting slightly to the left, like gravity was having a disagreement with itself. You tried to focus on his face, on the familiar curve of his eyes above the mask.
Something about the red smeared across the fabric kept pulling your attention.
“Tamsy,” you tried again, slower this time, like maybe clarity would come if you spoke carefully. “There are protocols. If a supporter is injured during…during a giver operation, we…”
His gloved fingers brushed your wrist where he still held your hand down, his grip gentle but firm enough that you couldn’t lift it.
“We call back-up. That is protocol, yes.” He nuzzled your forehead again. “Good job remembering that.”
You swallowed.
“That’s…my job.”
“Mhm.” He pat your head, and it made you feel even dizzier for a few moments. “And you are so good at it, aren’t you?”
Another pause stretched between you.
Your leg throbbed violently now, the shock starting to thin out. Every pulse of your heart sent another hot wave of pain up your body. You squeezed your thigh again instinctively, though your grip had gone weaker with only one hand, the other still firmly held by Tamsy.
“Tamsy,” you said again, more urgently this time. “I’m bleeding a lot.”
“I noticed.”
“So we should call-”
“You’re very observant today.”
Your stomach twisted.
You blinked at him.
“What?”
Tamsy leaned back slightly. His posture was casual. Like you were huddled together watching a movie during a break instead of in the middle of a polluted zone with your bones sticking out.
His eyes crinkled again.
“You wrote it down and everything,” he said, nodding toward the notebook in your lap. “Concussion. Good job.”
Your gaze drifted to the page automatically.
Your chest tightened.
“Yeah,” you said slowly. “Because I think I have one.”
“Probably.”
“Which is… bad.”
“For you, yes.”
Your brain tried to follow that sentence and stumbled.
“…for me?”
“Mm.”
Another gust of wind rolled across the wasteland, carrying the sour stink of rot and chemicals. Your mask filter buzzed harder for a second.
Your thoughts felt sticky. Like they were moving through syrup.
“Tamsy,” you whispered, suddenly very tired and very very scared, “can you please call Semiu?”
His eyes softened.
“Oh, dear.” he said quietly.
There was almost something blissfully fond in the sound.
“You still think we’re doing that?”
Your stomach dropped. Your breath quickened a little. You stopped trying to put pressure on your thigh and instead tried to push yourself upright, planting one shaky hand against the ground. Your arm trembled violently, matching your breathing.
The strength simply… wasn’t there.
Your elbow buckled before you could lift yourself even an inch, and you sagged back against him.
You swallowed hard and tried again, slower this time, willing your muscles to listen. Tamsy tilted his head the other way now, studying your face like he was watching something incredibly fun.
“I did tell you,” he said.
A thin, helpless panic fluttered in your chest, beating faster and faster as the realization crept in that you weren’t able to get out of this. “Tell me what?”
“That you should lie down.”
Your vision swam again.
“I can’t lie down,” you muttered. “My leg…”
“You’re already halfway there.”
It took your brain a few seconds to process that.
You looked down.
At some point during your struggle, you had slid sideways against the broken concrete. Your body wasn’t upright anymore. Tamsy’s arm was loosely around your shoulders, keeping you propped up into the embrace.
You didn’t remember sinking down so much.
Panic fluttered weakly in your chest.
“Tamsy,” you said again, voice trembling now, your hands desperately clinging at your leg to keep pressure on it. The pool beneath you was growing. “You have to help me. Why aren’t you helping me?”
He looked at you for a long moment.
Then his eyes crinkled again in that same pleasant smile.
“You just asked me that.”
Were you going insane? Why was he acting this way?! Tears welled in your eyes and your lips wobbled as you tried to repeat your question again and again, still unsure why Tamsy was acting so crazy. Your bloodied hands couldn’t reach your choker, nor put enough pressure on your leg. He was just sitting there… watching!
You were going to bleed out.
With pure fear in your eyes, you stared up at Tamsy, knowing there was nothing you could do but bleed out into his arms if he didn’t allow you to call help. Even if help was called, you were quickly losing consciousness. They wouldn’t be here in time. You’d die. You were going to die.
A distant engine cut through the wind.
Both of you turned toward the sound automatically.
At first it was just a low mechanical growl somewhere beyond the gray fog, vibrating through the piles of scrap and broken concrete. Then headlights pushed through the smog, two harsh beams cutting across the polluted landscape.
A truck.
Your brain lagged behind the obvious conclusion.
“…what?”
The vehicle rolled closer, tires grinding over rubble until it stopped a short distance away. The side door slammed open.
“Afternoon,” a familiar voice called out. “Cavalry’s arrived.”
Gris jumped down from the truck, already moving fast. His boots crunched across the debris as he crossed the distance between you.
Your brain stuttered.
“…Gris?”
He crouched immediately, eyes sweeping over your injuries with efficiency.
“Well, damn,” he muttered. “You really outdid yourself this time, huh?”
Gloved hands were suddenly everywhere: checking your leg, your arm, your pulse. Gris worked quickly, movements precise and practiced. He’d already brought a medkit.
“Your arm is broken. Head is bleeding,” he said aloud, half to himself. “Leg’s a mess too. Femur stickin’ out like it’s trying to escape-”
You blinked at him.
“How…?”
Gris looked up briefly.
“How what?”
“How are you here?”
Gris frowned slightly, like the question was odd.
“Tamsy called it in.”
Your gaze snapped toward the giver beside you.
Tamsy was still sitting exactly where he’d been, posture relaxed, hands resting loosely around you to keep you upright, looking like an angel keeping you company in your dire time.
His eyes crinkled cheerfully when he noticed you looking.
“…you did?” you croaked.
“Of course,” he said affectionately. “It’s very important to me you make it out of here safe.”
Gris snorted.
“No flirting with my patients, Tamsy,” he said while wrapping a band around your thigh. “But good lookin’ out for her. Any later and she might’ve bled out. Couldn’t you have stopped the bleeding yourself, though?”
Tamsy shook his head. “My control over my vital instruments is not that delicate. I was worried I’d hurt her more if I tried to do something like that.”
Your brain still tried to reconcile everything with the last several minutes of conversation, not truly grasping the conversation the two men were having about you.
“But..” Your voice came out weak. “You…”
“Hold still,” Gris said, tightening the makeshift tourniquet. “This’ll suck.”
It did.
Stars burst behind your eyes as he secured the pressure band. You screeched wildly, for a moment completely out of control with the amount of pain coursing through your body.
“You’re lucky he called when he did,” Gris continued matter-of-factly, like you’d not just metaphorically ruptured an ear drum. He was probably used to it. You did have a penchant for getting hurt, though never before like this. “We’ll get you to Eisha in no time.”
You stared at Tamsy.
He tilted his head at you, still smiling with his eyes.
“What a relief, isn’t it,” he said.
Your thoughts slid uselessly against each other.
Had he…?
But you’d asked him.
Multiple times.
Why hadn’t he just said-
Your head throbbed violently and the question dissolved before you could finish it.
“Alright,” Gris said after a moment. “Let’s get you in the truck before you start passing out on me.”
The ride back was bumpy.
You were half-propped against the side bench of the transport, Gris driving while Tamsy was keeping your leg raised, checking the bandages every few minutes while the engine rumbled beneath the floor of the car.
Your leg had been stabilized as best as possible. Your arm was splinted tight against your side and some impromptu stitching had made sure your head hadn’t bled more than it already had. The total pain had settled into a deep, throbbing burn that pulsed with every movement of the truck.
Your notebook still sat loosely in your lap.
You stared at the word concussion for a long time.
“…Tamsy,” you murmured eventually.
“Hm?”
He was sitting beside you, one elbow braced against the wall of the truck like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“You didn’t tell me you called backup.”
“I didn’t?”
You turned your head slowly toward him.
“No.”
“Huh.”
He sounded mildly surprised.
Gris snorted from behind the wheel.
“You’re concussed,” he said. “Memory’s gonna be a little scrambled.”
Maybe.
That had to be it.
“Oh… I’m sorry.” You said, feeling ready to cry by the relief of it all. You’d been scared to death, sure you’d die on a pile of polluted garbage. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further, so you looked away, trying to ignore how Tamsy’s gaze had been zeroed in on your face the second you got emotional.
Tamsy pat your good leg comfortingly. “Don’t worry about it.”
You exhaled weakly and leaned your head back against the metal wall.
Something tugged at your skin.
Your eyes drifted downward.
For a second your brain didn’t quite register what you were seeing.
A thin strand of blue yarn wrapped around your ankle.
Tamsy’s hand rested loosely nearby.
And very casually, like he’d been doing it the whole time, he was slowly pulling the thread free.
A little more blue yarn slipped out from your ankle, disappearing into his sleeves.
Haiyaa ! Just a question >< would you accept yumeship fics request in return for yumeship art of your ship? [Cute]
—Angel mootie🪽
yes yes!! just dm me about your character n what theyre like and ill get to writing! also lmk if you want a specific prompt or anything else!!(..◜ᴗ◝..)♡♡♡
oh my days sergei U HAVE GOT TO HAVE CAMERAS IN MY ROOM I KEEP TALKING ABOUT FRAT IDIA AND FRAT LEONA LORDDD😭😭😭👀👀👀👀👀. but ts is so life changing it made me come out of retirement im getting to writing rn ihmygod 👀👀👀👀
hi moots….hi tumblr….im actually gonna come back writing….okay…? i’m gonna actually write…not a lie this time…and im acc gonna finish angelic reader with twst housewardens and drop hockey gojo and also do frat jjk and even gachiakuta….alrighty…? also need to fix this FUCKASS layout first so whatever gets done first i guess🥹✌️
Confessing to Yuu who is similar to Jade West from Victorious
All NRC Students (-Ortho)
A/N: I mentioned Jade's personality traits and a like and dislike of hers that was revealed in the show. I thought it was a fun idea as an Imagine. Also they/them pronounced are used. Happy Reading!
1.) Terrified as hell.
How did he even develop feelings for them in the first place? Everyone is absolutely terrified of the prefect from Ramshackle. No one would even DARE look or speak to them without getting stared down into submission, that's why he's terrified. He doesn't know what to say, he's sure that whatever comes out of his mouth, he will instantly regret it. Should he give them something? Whatever do they even want, anyway? Someone's soul? Or a pair of sharp scissors because he saw how oddly they love to have that tool around. Sevens, how is he going to handle someone like them? He knows for a fact that if he even breathes in their direction, he'd be a goner, but here he is, finally wanting to confess because somehow at SOME point, he finds their personality attractive. Oh well, prepare his grave.
Ace, Cater, Epel, Idia
2.) Has planned EVERYTHING
He is aware of the prefect's... prickly personality. He is as equally as nervous to confess, yes, but he has come prepared. He wrote down what to say, he practiced the flow of his confessions, and even prepared something to give them. Chocolates, flowers... he hopes they like flowers. He's certain he's got it all mapped out, no detail left astray. Nervous? Again, yes. But this will only go down either two roads: If it turns out well, it turns out well. If it doesn't turn out well... knowing and hearing from different sources... he might get humiliated too. Something he'd probably never live down for a while. But hey, at least he's got a plan. He might need to make a back-up plan, though... just in case his confession didn't go his way.
Riddle, Trey, Deuce, Jack, Azul, Jade, Jamil,
3.) May or may not have come prepared, but he loves the challenge
He's neither terrified nor overly prepared, but know that he definitely has something up his sleeve. He loves a challenge, but that doesn't mean he doesn't take the prefect seriously. He genuinely likes them for how grouchy, sarcastic, and sassy they are. And knowing how everyone else seems to be afraid of them, it excites him. To him, asking the prefect out on a date would be like a rollercoaster. While he can see how it might end, he never really knows what's going to happen, so he'll just sit back and go with it. He's oddly relaxed, but he is still uncertain. That's what makes it fun after all.
Leona, Ruggie, Floyd, Vil, Rook, Lilia
4.) Does he know what he's signing up for?
He thinks he can just go straight up to them and confess like normal. No one knows if he's really aware of the prefect's daring and outspoken personality, they HOPE he is, or else what's going to happen to him? But you know what? He doesn't care. He likes them, and would want to date them, so wouldn't it do good for him to be straightforward with pure intentions? Yeah well, maybe he should prepare a gift or even letters, he'd do that for sure, but unlike the others, he is one of the bravest by far to confess to the prefect. Does he know what he's signing up for? No, but he's confessing anyway because again, he likes them. How bad can it be?
Kalim, Silver, Sebek, Malleus
If you like to have part two of this, let me know!
*lowers this post gently into the leona fan infested waters* I hope I did your lion justice <3
Leona Kingscholar
Leona should’ve known that going to that stupid fucking housewarden meeting would’ve end up with him tangled up in something he shouldn’t even be paying attention to.
That damn Radish Sprout, hunched over at the table, thumbs flying across his screen conveniently only doing it whenever Leona opened his mouth to speak.
“You finding a love life online now Shroud ? Given up on real life people so now your drooling over some animated girl ?”
Idia, in a sudden wave of confidence, had snorted, sinking further into his chair as he mumbled out something that sounded a lot like “Like you’d have the brains to think up these strategies.”
Huh.
“Oi, Ortho, what’s the name of that game your shut-in brother plays ?”
“...Leona Kingscholar-senpai ?”
Of course Leona would only pick up this type of game if he’s doing it out of pettiness, I can almost see his tail flicking back and forth as the loading screen icon spins on his phone screen
Definitely the type of not really care about the games intro at first (something he regrets later but I’ll elaborate soon)
He pulls on the newest banner trying to get the strongest card, and well-
He gets you so, that’s good enough right ?
Since your the best character he has at this point Leona reads up on how best to build your character
And that’s how he started learning, so much more about you
The thing about fictional characters is that it’s so easy to learn of their backstories, of their true personalities and their passions
And well, let’s just say Leona is slightly taken with how much your character strikes with him
…If he starts doing weird things he’s so blaming the overgrown overly bony radish
Leona has an assortment of merch, well-picked, he seems like a figure collector to me so he has one or two on high shelves so that when Cheka comes and tries to turn his room inside out, your figures are stowed away at the top where the little monkey can’t reach
He has a few nuis that caught his eyes, maybe a beach clothing nui here, traditional clothing nui there (Leona strikes me as someone who would love seeing his partner in there traditional clothes if they have any I love a man who loves my culture <3 anyways-), their stashed in his table drawer because the last time he left one out, he found Jack and Ruggie in his room
Arguing about whether owning a nui of you in a swimsuit made him a pervert or not
He boxed both their ears and threw them out, but he also wrapped swimsuit nui you in a jacket
He doesn’t bring his nui out with him all the time, but if he knows it’s gonna be a chill day with minimal classes and minimal contact with other students, he’ll nap under a tree with your nui on his chest
Talking about his chest–!
Leona did the nui boob trend, you know it, yes that one, no he didn’t post it but he did it, looked in the mirror and cringed so hard he didn’t go out of his room for the whole day
(What I’d give to see that AHEM AHEM Leona yume artists AHEM AHEM)
He doesn’t have an ita bag, not because he doesn’t like the concept but honestly I genuinely cannot see him wearing a bag of any sorts when he goes out
He has Ruggie for that and Ruggie (no offense to you) is not wearing a itabag with your face plastered on it, he has his own thank you very much (scroll down to see Ruggie’s ver of his oshi and yume adventures)
Think he does have a couple of pins and pin badges he gets from friends, Jack gave him one of you after Leona has helped him out with his personal strength training, Epel gave him a homemade ribbon keychain with your name bedazzled on the ribbon (a tongue in cheek gift but Leona kept it anyways), Ruggie found a pin of you while looking through the thrift stores badge bin and cleaned it up and gave it to Leona (returning the favour of Leona “leaving” out a nui of his own oshi)
Is he a whale in game ?
Well…he’s not not a whale if you know what I mean
I can definitely see Leona buying one of those "guaranteed pity” paid packages that the game advertises so he can get a card he really really wants of you
The only people who know about this obsession is Ruggie, Jack, Idia (because Leona’s team in game fought against his and he lost wtf old man not cool >:<) and Kalim for reasons I’ll state below
He’s not actively hiding it from anyone but he’s also not announcing it to the world (unlike some people, cough cough Cater, achoo achoo Rook)
This man is in denial that he yumes you btw
You were evading him for the entirety of your birthday card run and he was in such a foul mood that Kalim helped pull for you on his phone (since he’s a good luck magnet) and Leona visibly relaxed
But no, you’re just a fictional character, stop smirking Vil, your roots are showing-
Selective sharing, Leona can get jealous but he also kinda doesn't mind when other people find you attractive, of course they do why wouldn't they
he curates the type of content he sees so nothing sets him off lol
I can see him not minding sharing with someone close to him
The type of yumedanshi (i hope I’m using this term correctly) to wholly hyperfixated on their object of affections and scours the internet for canon scenes including you
Thus his regret in skipping the opening scene because now he has to watch it online instead of in game where he can actually choose responses and he’s pissy whenever whoever’s doing the playthrough makes the “wrong” decision especially if it concerns you
In his sleepwear vignette it said he stayed up till morning reading a history book, take that and apply it to Leona reading a novel adapted from your game to learn more about you
Leona dabbles in fanfic but he doesn’t read it as much as say- Idia or Riddle, he likes reading and re-reading canon that’s his thing
Your character comes out with a event specific outfit that actually kinda looks inspired by the traditional clothing of Sunset Savannah
And Leona has your card in 10 minutes with the way he’s pulling, has your card built to the max in a day
No, he isn’t obsessed shut it Ruggie
The answer to my prev post is yes btw, that was foreshadowing
months later my friend commissioned somebody to draw us and our f/os and they r oshimaxxing,,, i immediately thought of this fic when looking at the comm sitting on my wall
﹒ 𓊆♡𓊇 ⏖ my name is kaylynn but everyone calls me kay ｡ ﹗
➴ ﹒ 𐄑 im somewhat into typology and im a sp9, 926 , 9w1, esfj : fandoms im in consist of jjk, twst, gachiakuta, my dress up darling, tamons b side, needy streamer overload, panty n stocking with garterbelt, death note, phantom busters, im a fujoshi n himejoshi and read a LOT in my freetime
﹕ ౨ৎ ┄ likes : the girls next door , modeling , fashion , spending my money on stupid things , sleeping , shitposting , writing , singing , playing guitar , drawing
➴ ﹒ 𐄑 im 16 and another important piece of info is that im autistic so please be paitent with me!! im an honors student and im often super busy so i only post when im not insanely tired (_ _)。゜zｚＺ
should i do my service learning project that is due friday….or should i redo my intro and tumblr layout so its acc aesthetic and proper….….re do my carrd…..watch asmr,,,, watch my 300+ leona edits and memes on tiktok i am picky about saving….be picky about what specific leona merch i need…..decisions….decisokns…..kayona pinterest board possibly…..perhaps……i am observing my decisions….👀👀👀👀👀
“Adore me completely” with Riddle Rosehearts, Trey Clover, and Leona Kingscholar
You show your affection for their scars!! (slight hurt/comfort)
Leona mentioned!! @kittikissd
In the comforts of Riddle Rosehearts’s dorm room, he permitted you to be as affectionate as you pleased. The flush on his cheeks gave his own contentment away.
His makeup was being wiped away by your careful movements. Murmured warnings of when you were going over his eyes or lips, he obeyed your instructions. Simple commands to make sure he doesn’t risk irritation.
You grabbed a cloth to dab his face from the wetness of the makeup wipes. His face scrunched as you swiped the remaining stickiness away the best you could. Such a small gesture made his heart race.
“These small dents in your face, what are they from?” He reached a hand to touch where you were looking. He couldn’t understand what you meant for a second. All his fingers felt were the chubby cheeks he never quite grew out of.
When he ghosted over a spot. Closer to his nose, there was scarring. You could call them dents, he supposed, but they were simply a result of his previous skin-picking.
Following his mother’s rigid routines for hygiene never got rid of his acne. Though it’s gotten immensely better from the beginning of his time at NRC, the habit is engraved in his face.
You traced his face with a pinky. In such a calming manner, he let his hand fall. His posture relaxed. It felt like you were drawing constellations on his features. “Would you trust me to see this more often?” You asked him with an unshaken demeanor. “You’re so beautiful to me. And these scars further prove that.”
His lips made an O-shape, before a gentle smile emerged on his features. “Yes, as long as you aren’t causing any commotions, I have no objections.” He made the first move, leaning his forehead against yours. That smile widened.
You adored him, seemingly no matter what. That was a notion he’d treasure the rest of his life.
Trey Clover had nothing he bothered hiding. You could say he found comfort in being an open book. That goes for the discolored lines that litter his forearms.
In mundane, everyday tasks like baking, it’s easy for your mind to wander. You always do what you can to keep your boyfriend company, but focusing your attention on actions you’ve seen several times? That’s the challenge.
Naturally when he rolls up his sleeves to knead the dough he’s working on, you don’t question it. But your eyes drift to the lines on his arms. Some are faded, barely noticeable if you’re not deliberately staring. Others are impossible to miss. Though they’re obviously just scars, you wanted to know more.
You waited until he was finished. The last of the pastries were in the oven. You convinced him to just use magic to clean up, and save the hassle of putting things away by hand.
You didn’t miss the way his eyebrow quirked at your odd insistence. But soon enough, everything was done. All there was to do was wait on the baking time to finish.
“How did you get the scars?” You blurred out without much thinking.
He cocked his head to the side. There was a fond look in his eyes, and the curve of his lips mimicked that. The kindness was betrayed by his teasing ask, “if I tell you, would you wanna kiss them better?”
The distinct difference between his passive nature with fellow classmates and the teasing demeanor he displays to you needed to be studied. I just feel free around you be damned. He was getting joy out of catching you off guard.
He took a few small strides towards you from his spot by the oven. He sat next to you at the kitchen’s island counter. “I was a clumsy little kid, so naturally, I left our family’s bakery with a couple burns and scrapes.” A chaste kiss was placed on your cheek before you knew it, and the oven went off.
He got back up to check on the baking goods. They wouldn’t be finished for a while longer, but he wanted to make sure they were rising correctly.
He was pulling the pans out to take closer looks. That was the time you chose to speak up again. You muttered loud enough for him to hear and nobody else, “They’re already healed, but could I still kiss them?”
The clang of the pan hitting the oven rack made you jump. Trey didn’t look at you for a few seconds. He seemed to be composing himself before he answered you. His reply had that same quiet joy as his smile earlier, “I’d never reject a sweet offer like that.”
The idea of being stuck with Leona Kingscholar’s laundry made you feel dizzy. You told his grubby little hyena that much, and yet here you were. Folding the prince’s sleeping shirt while Ruggie worked on the undergarments (it was the least he could do).
“You owe me for this and you know it,” you grumbled as he grabbed the clumsily-folded piles.
Earplugs would’ve been nice to block out his snickering. You could hear that irritating grin when he teased, “c’mon! I should be compensated for your sloppy folding. My pompous housewarden might not settle for less than the greatest, y’know.”
It was an odd dynamic between you both. He knew you were fond of Leona, and liked to string you along for his own enjoyment (and maybe to help you out if he felt nice). You didn’t mind helping the second year out, even if you only gave a hand to be on his gpod side.
You both knew Leona would screw up the folding anyway. He wouldn’t complain or nitpick for any reason EXCEPT messing with you guys. “Throwing a fit about how it’s folded? That’s Vil’s job,” in his own words.
In the middle of the last piece of clothing you were doing, Ruggie plucked it out of your hands and tossed it on the dresser. “Don’t worry about that one. He’s gonna rummage around to grab it later, and I don’t wanna hear him blaming me for not finding it.”
You acknowledged his words with a hum before he continued talking with a growing grin. “Y’know that scar on his eye, right? Pretty hard to miss with your ogling at him. What do you think about it?” You chose to ignore his blatant tease, noting how he glanced at the bedroom door. Leona would be coming back soon.
“I wanna know the story behind it,” you answered. Whether Leona was on his way back, or behind the door and waiting to hear your praises; you chose to be honest. “I think it makes him look stronger than he already is, but I wish I could understand it.”
Ruggie hums in an obnoxious manner, definitely pretending to care more than he truly does. “Well, you can keep stroking the guy’s unbearable ego in a sec. I’m not gonna lose my appetite from your lovey-dovey stuff. See ya!”
Without hearing any of your confused objections, he brushed past you and bolted out the door… with Leona’s wallet tucked between his fingers. Of course.
In the doorway, Leona is standing with a less than impressed glance in the direction Ruggie ran toward.
His ears flick when you sigh. He cocks his head to the side when he meets your eyes. “Letting the smug thief run off with my wallet, huh? I could’ve had my life savings in there.” You weren’t given the opportunity to protest against his accusing words.
He lazily sauntered towards you, and pulled you with him onto the bed. Unceremonious as always, he shuffled you both until he was pleased with the position (and you weren’t fighting to suppress any signs of discomfort).
“I dunno how to explain the story behind it, ‘cause I can’t remember. I wouldn’t mind hearing you blab about it though. Maybe I’ll even let you touch, if you earn it.”
And who were you to reject such an offer?
Okay, first time TRYING to write Trey Clover. How’d I do?
hey so i’m rolling on the floor over leona ohmydays i will never get my summative done this is the 3rd time i reread leona’s little fic i am blushing and giggling so much holy peak i would give my entire life savings for a million more of these
It shouldn't be shocking news to you that you are dating the most stubborn man in all of Twisted Wonderland and now that you are dealing with the price of his behavior.
Now, you were having another episode of petty squabbling with Leona, a never-ending series of arguments and disagreements that always seemed to revolve around his pride and your patience.
"Come on, Leona! Just apologize to Ruggie, and this whole thing can be over," you huffed, wrapping both of your hands on your hips like a scolding mother.
Apparently, Ruggie informed you with frustrating news that your boyfriend had been less considerate of his help. When a current task is done, there's always going to be another one waiting for him to finish. It was driving him insane.
You pitied the poor boy, so you took action instead.
Oh boy, how challenging it is to convince the mighty beast himself.
Leona scoffed, throwing a dismissive wave. "Tch. Why would I?" Then, with due arrogance, he turned his body away from you, only the snap of his tail indicating his annoyance.
You rolled your eyes, dragging your two fingers across your temples in exasperation. "He was trying to help you! You left your stuff all over the lounge again," you clarified, your tone edged with frustration.
Your boyfriend let out a short, low hum. His eyes closed with indifference, and he muttered. "Not my problem."
This audacity of his was starting to wear thin on your patience. You were lucky that you are humble enough to know he is part royalty, or else you might have lost your temper completely and probably strangled his arrogant neck.
Instead, you took a deep breath and calmly replied, teeth gritted together to enunciate your words clearly, "It becomes your problem when you dismiss his efforts. You're being a baby!"
You knew better than to call him that in person, but the frustration was bubbling just beneath the surface. You were expecting the next scene of you being sacrificed to the hungry hyenas as spare meat because you dared to offend the second prince while he sits on the throne made with bones, blankly staring you down.
But that expectation never came; he just rolled over and looked at you blankly. "Alright," he said, as if he had accepted your words without argument.
You let out a breathless mix of relief and laughter. That went well? "That's… That's great! Well then, go and apolo—"
"Breastfeed me then."
Huh?
Your moment of relief transitioned into bewilderment. There was silence after his bold reply; you turned to meet his impassive gaze with your mouth hung open in shock. "Excuse me?" you stammered, unsure if you had heard him correctly.
"You said I'm being a baby. So, what's a better way to shut this 'baby's mouth than to breastfeed me?" he repeated, his expression deadpan.
HUUUUHHHHHH??????
"You're being ridiculous!" you exclaimed, shifting your flustered body away from his and shaking your head in disbelief.
In a matter of seconds, Leona finally got up from his bed and swaggered his way to you, snaking both of his hands on your hips but leaving one hand to trail under your shirt, resting dangerously close to your chest. "That is not a request."
Then, his hand rested on your clothed breast, applying gentle pressure and pinching your nipple through the fabric. "Consider it an order from your prince," he whispered, his eyes dark with desire.
I AM GAGGED THIS IS PEAK also i am so tired of possessive alpha leona🥹🥹🥹 like why are people writing him as jake from royal high,,, like you perfectly capture his brattiness and also what a flier he is and ohmygod as a leona riako i am GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET SO MUCH OMG
