#implied killing

[marianne-in-wonder1and]

Immortality - Obsessive!Yandere!Malleus Draconia x Bold!F!Reader:

#Tags: Implied killing, kidnapping, minor drugging, implied magic spells, obsessive, he kidnaps you, you're sassy, kissing

Dragon divider by @bhavihelps !

Note: All the content in this fic is purely fictional and for fun. I do not support such activities in real life, and I hope you don't too. If the tags trigger you, please scroll! Your health is more important.

Twisted Wonderland:

"Please, let me out."

Your quivery voice echoed through the walls confines of Diasomnia, not a single soul in sight. The everlasting green flames flickered on the candles, decorating the walls like they always did. Yet, this time? It felt as if the flickers were mocking your predicament, scorching higher and higher with more freedom than you had.

Thud. The sound of a large gate closing resounded as a figure, draped in darkness, entered. Sharp lime eyes, muscular physique, towering height, and an aura of unmistakable dragon flame surrounding him, which couldn't be ignored. Malleus Draconia. The Housewarden of Diasomnia! This elusive man was the only one you had seen here all day.

"You're awake," his rumbly voice, as if weaved with embers of forgotten flames itself, spoke, his eyes glinting with an unreadable shine.

"Does it look like I'm still asleep?" You shot back fiercely, yet your trembling fingers betrayed your strong facade as you backed away slowly.

"Don't play smart with me, Child of Man. I'm not in the mood," his lime eyes flickered, mirroring the flames. Oh. Both were mocking you, it seems. He leaned against the grand table in the now empty common room, his unsettling gaze fixed on you, "I am aware of a way or two to silence that beautiful mouth of yours that has enraptured my interest and has invoked my limerence like none other."

You glared at him, shaking your head slightly to get rid of thoughts of how handsome he looked you think these are normal thoughts? and how, even in this damn situation, he looks every bit the majestic Dragon Fae prince he is it's all magic spells from the Briar Valley, dear.

"Well? Will I finally find out why I have been kidnapped?" You huffed, looking away from his form, only for your jaw to be snapped back to meet his gaze.

"Eyes on me when you address me, oh mistress of my desires," he murmured lowly, his rough thumb brushing against your jaw in mockery of a gentle touch, "you are to show me respect. Plus, kidnapping is too harsh of a word. I like to think of it as... preserving."

"Respect is earned, not given randomly," you gulped, forcing yourself to maintain the eye contact he forced upon you, "and what stunt of "preservation" you've pulled today is certainly not worthy of respecting!"

Malleus' jaw clenched hard, his grip on your jaw tightening ever-so slightly. "Shut your beautiful mouth before I do it for you, Y/n."

This was the first time he had ever used your name. You bit your lower lip, still glaring at his eyes. His thumb forced itself into your mouth, forcing your lip out from between your teeth as he kept it slightly pried open, an unnoticeable smirk gracing his lips. "That's better. You're not allowed to harm my property, even if it is by biting those lips which only I am allowed to bite."

"Get your hands off me," you exhaled, moving away slightly, only to be pulled back against his chest.

"Or else? Whose hands would you fancy on that beautiful body of yours other than mine, Child of Man? Would they be Azul Ashengrotto's from Octavinelle? Or, perhaps, Neige LeBlanche's from Royal Sword Academy? Answer me."

You gulped. How did he—

"You think I didn't see you throw yourself onto them? You think the shadows don't submit to me? You think you are discreet in your stunts," Malleus gritted out, his eyes scorching with ancient fury, "but let me remind you, Y/n. I am Malleus Draconia. The grandson of the strongest mage. I bow to none other than those of my caliber."

Before you could process, you noticed Malleus get down on his knees, his hand wrapped around your softer ankle as he brought it to his lips for a brief kiss, his eyes maintaining that unnerving eye contact with you. "And yet, here I am. Reduced to mere dust by just one glance from you. Kneeling before you like some commoner. You've unveiled my innermost desires, darling."

"Y-You..." You gasped, now noticing the deranged shine in his eyes.

"Those men who spoke to you? Gone. I've rid you of them, my love. These arms of you can caress only me. These eyes of yours can look at none other than me. These sinful lips of yours can kiss none other than mine. Even now, do you have any arguments about belonging to me and me alone?" He stood up to his towering height, grabbing your arm to pull you in.

"That means I'll need to endure you just until I become 100 and perish, huh? It'll pass like a blink to you faes," you weakly attempted to shoot back, only to be met with a dark chuckle.

"That's a point. However, I would have been more concerned about this if I hadn't already done something about that," his hand wrapped around your waist like a vice, "open your mouth."

"Make me."

With a growl of frustration, Malleus' lips crashed yours with unexpected fierceness, his tongue forcing itself into the warm cavern of your mouth. As you squirmed, you felt him slip a pill inside you, pulling away as he panted.

"There we go. That was the pill of eternity. It binds your life to mine. As long as I live, you live too. The moment you die, I die too. See how much I love you?"

"You're insane," you panted, your legs shaking from the lingering force of his kiss.

"Only for you, love. And as far as enduring me goes, you'll just have to get used to it. And once you do, you'll start to love it."

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Malleus sends you some shaved ice 🍧 Do send requests for more! 💚

[monstrouslyobsessed]

vile affection

concept: in which your guardian angel wishes nothing but misfortune for you—just to keep you. —momster

—a/n: well no one asked for a concept and I wanna post smth so here it is!! enjoyyyyy~

side note, i tried to be vague on what religion this story is referencing to so you yourself can implement your preferred beliefs, but unfortunately, catholicism still carried some weights in this one. sorry!! i tried my best dlfkfsdl

—tw / tags: gn reader, implied loved one(s) death(s), implied killing, heavy religious themes, grief, horror, body horror, teratophilia, exophilia, general yandere themes, sfw.

—featured character(s): the guardian angel / the angel, the (unfortunate) priest

A piercing wail erupted from the depths of your throat as you crumbled to the floor, shrieking into your phone, “No, no, nonono! No!”

Not another one…!

Sobs wracked your body so hard the sounds emerged as tiny high-pitched squeaks. Tears blurred your vision to near blindness, distorting the colors into blobs of grey. Your breaths came so harshly they scorched your lungs.

Curling into a ball, you lost control and hyperventilated. With wild abandon, you pounded your fist on the cold tiled floor and released inhuman cries of agony. Something throbbed where your knuckles had split open, staining the hard ceramic surface with your blood, yet you felt nothing. Numbness drenched the overwhelming misery and panic, and your world creased its spinning.

They were gone—every single one of them.

Distantly, a voice, laced with sympathy, pleaded with you not to hang up the phone. Without hesitation, your battered hand moved on its own accord to end the call. You sat there, head between your knees, as you let the device to slip away to clatter and crack against the floor.

Now, there was nothing left, nothing but the hollowing emptiness that gaped deep within your pounding chest, where the love of your life had once filled and kept it warm. Memories of their smiles faded as tears stung your swollen eyes. Wheezing sobs continued to fill the room, oblivious to a strange distortion perching on your bowed back to comfort you.

The funeral was a somber affair, a closed-casket viewing attended by strangers. You remained quiet throughout the priest’s recitation of the psalms, disregarding the whispered condolences offered your way. It took every ounce of your strength not to jump into that casket and howl your grief.

“Poor thing…” one attendant murmured to another, “this makes it the fifth loss in this year alone, doesn’t it?”

The other attendant responded sympathetically, stealing a brief glance in your direction. Anger flared within you, only to fade just as quickly when you felt something brush against your bare neck; feather-soft, cold and intangible. You tensed.

This was not the first time you had experienced these strange sensations—these invisible touches. At times, it would gently trace down your skin, soothing like a caress on the back of your hand, or enveloping you like an embrace around your waist. But, it always felt as though it was petting you with a sharp, scalpel-like claw, sharp and unyielding. These sensations left behind only cold goosebumps and an increasing sense that something was extremely wrong.

Once, you thought it might be the ghost of your loved one—but even you knew such possibilities were ludicrous. It could be your mind breaking apart under the weight of so many consecutive tragedies; less than a year felt like a lifetime of pain. And, by certain, their touches had never felt so…disgusting and inhuman.

There were moments where the hairs on the back of your neck bristled and you heard the faint disembodied crooning, words too indistinct for you to understand. Yet, it vaguely resembled a demonic chorus, singing some eerie song. The lingering echoes, you thought, was just an auditory hallucinations brought on by intense grief.

The phenomena worsened each loss you suffered though. These unseen presences grew more persistent and suffocating, clinging to you like a shroud of darkness. Your instincts would scream at you to flee—but how could you escape from something you don’t even know was there?

Rubbing unconsciously where the invisible entity touched you, you remained in your seat, fixated on the casket. As you waited for the priest to conclude his prayer for the departed soul’s safe passage to the afterlife, you lifelessly watched mourners rising from their seats to form a line to pay their respects.

Your mind was numbed by both exhaustion and sorrow to even count them all.

After the attendants withdrew for the impending burial, the priest motioned for you to join him. A gentle—yet strangely tight smile formed on his lips, as he spoke, “Would you mind returning here after the burial? I’d like a word with you.”

You furrowed your brows at the priest's unusual request but nodded, your agreement barely audible. Whatever he had to say couldn’t possibly be more harrowing than the lonely hell you were enduring. Quietly, you promised to return.

After the burial, once the guests departed for the wake, you found yourself alone in the cemetery. An ache gnawed at your heart as you forced yourself to walk back to the ever-looming church. As soon as you stepped inside the holy building, something strange caught the corner of your eyes.

Startled, you pivoted to see what it was.

But, there was nothing there, just the endless rows of gravestones scattered across the green grass. Your muscles taut with unease, you shook your head and drew a deep, heavy breath. Your sanity was fraying to a snapping point, you thought to yourself.

The weighty doors thudded shut behind you, the sound reverberating thunderously throughout the silent sanctuary, nearly jumping you out of your skin. Following the abrupt noise, you heard a voice beckoning you to follow, as the priest shuffled his feet down the aisle.

You couldn’t help but to notice the nervousness in his steps.

Closing the distance between you, he ushered you past the archway and toward the altar of the church’s fallen deity. Lightheaded and worried at the haste and anxiety he displayed, you allowed him to lead you to a room in the rear of the sanctuary. Rashly, he locked the door behind you and stood there stiffly, pressing his ear against the wooden surface.

“Father…?” You glanced at him, fear swelling up at his odd behavior.

His shoulders tensed upon your hesitant voice and he turned to face you, his eyes filled with unmasked horror. Swiftly, the priest made a sign of the cross and whispered a prayer. With a shuddering sigh, he returned his attention to you.

Before you could open your mouth to demand an explanation, he cut in with urgency.

“Tell me, my child, what do you know of the guardian angel?”

Perplexed, you blinked until his urgent words seeped into your mind. Swallowing thickly, you replied in a hoarse voice, stifling the swelling grief in your breast, “They are meant to protect and to guide you in the times of strife and tribulations.”

He fell silent for a moment, then parted his trembling lips, “Then tell me, my child, why has yours only destroyed? Why did it regard you with such a perverse gaze?”

“I…what?” You gaped, a cracked laughter escaping your lips in an unhinged melody.

Had this man lost his mind?

What could he possibly mean? How could this man assume that the loss of your family was the work of divine beings? How ridiculous—

But upon the stern and fearful look in his eyes, disbelief constricted in the pit of your stomach. An overwhelming urge to flee coursed through your nerves, propelling your legs toward the bolted door. You were disrupted by a sudden yank on the collar of your shirt.

An inexplicable dread settled beneath your skin, as the priest forcefully dragged you backward with unexpected strength. Before you could voice your frustration and demand an explanation, the door buckled.

The wood splintered and the shrieks of a demon reverberated.

A scream pierced the air, laden with terror—but you couldn’t discern whose voice it belonged to. Was it your own? Or was it the priest’s? You remained uncertain, as you transfixed by the sight of something great and dreadful emerging from the sundered door.

An angel.

Except, to you, it was not.

Trenched in crimson, the mangled remains of rotten bodies hung from its many jagged wings. Countless eyes turned toward you, each radiating with worship and desire. A seam split on its featureless face, forming a broken maw that drooled with hunger. Its tongue, as dark as oil, swept away the spattered blood on its pure white skin.

Numerous arms reached out for you, each finger tipped with claws, glistening with something pungent. Its resonant voice echoed your name, tainted with the same twisted desire mirrored in their manic eyes. It repeated those three words, like a disturbing hymn.

I love you.

Blood roared in your ears and fear seeped through your body, paralyzing you. You couldn’t move, your vision obscured by a sudden cascade of tears. Disgust churned within you, sickening you to your very core.

You couldn’t even discern the abrupt swing of one of its arms, releasing the lifeless body from its monstrous sword, as the abomination closed in. A flurry of limbs encircled your shivering form, some caressing while others coiled around your spine.

Its’ many eyes blinked at you and its rotting wings fluttered, its grinning face lovingly nuzzled yours. Against your ear, it moaned its proclamation.

I love you.

The slithering tongue smeared across your lips in a parody of kisses. Your skin crawled at the way it touched you, its embrace suffocating, yet sickeningly gentle. Its affection for you was vile. Unwanted.

Your hands beat its armor weakly, attempting to fend it off, and its crooning changed into something sharp and incensed. Snarling, frustrated that it was unable to indulge itself into its unholy pleasure with you, it grabbed your hands and held them tightly.

Sobbing, you knew you would never be able to escape. Desperate to appease it, your voice rasped out from your dry throat,

“I…love…you…too.”

Its painful clenches softened upon your trembling words.

Love swelled within those golden irises.

—end

[blackrosesandwhump]

March of Pain Day 20: Addiction

Also, @amonthofwhump Cover Identity.

CW: vampire whumpee, blood mention

Though swathed from head to foot against the deadly sun, the assassin could still feel its heat, pressing in on him through his mask. A single misstep, a single inch of uncovered skin, would expose him and his true identity.

It’s better this way, he thought, sprinting on silent feet down a mercifully shaded alley. And, of course, if he played his cards right, he always had a convenient meal.

A corrupt noble, that was his target today. Nothing out of the ordinary. Barely even a challenge. Which was good, because it meant less effort on his part to satisfy his craving. His addiction. That’s what it really was, uncontrollable and insatiable. Inescapable.

Ironic for someone who could escape from anything.

He paused in the shadow of a large building, just across the square from the noble’s house. Should he wait until sundown, until he could do his job without the sun’s threat? No. It couldn’t wait. His hunger couldn’t wait.

One of these days that hunger would betray him. He could sense it, deep down in the part of him that still retained a shred of humanity.

Blood would be his undoing.

@marchofpain

[patton-cake]

Someone please give logicality matching swords. They deserve to hold hands while defending the other. Logan getting all protective over Patton while Patton takes down two enemies at once. Logan, ofc, gets a gay panic.

[marianne-in-wonder1and]

Guard Dog - Obsessive!Yandere!Gladiator!Choso Kamo x Medic!F!Sweet!Reader:

#Tags: Obsessiveness, possessiveness, obsession at first sight, stalking, minor cursing, implied assault, madness, he's a gladiator, Ancient Rome AU, you're his medic, he saves you(?), lying, jealousy, he's crazy for you, follows you around, golden retriever energy for you(?), smitten

Dividers by @uzmacchiato !

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Ancient Roman Terminology guide:

Medicus - Medic/doctor

Mea Vita - My Life

Meum Mel - My Honey

Valetudinaria - Infirmary

Lanista - New Gladiators-in-training

Lora - A beverage resembling wine, made from crushed grapes and water

Saturnalia - A festival of celebration for the Roman God Saturn in December

Your hands shivered with nervousness as you inhaled deeply. The gladiators would return any minute now. Or rather, the gladiator. It was a given by now. The blood hound, Choso Kamo. The only one who returned from the sea of gladiators every time they gathered at the colosseum for the pleasure of nobility. The one you've heard of frequently. The Greek prisoner of war. Now, as the new medicus, you have to treat him.

"Medicus Y/n, be on standby!"

You straightened up, fixing your tunic as you quickly grabbed the bottle of vinegar to disinfect the wounds. Please, let there be very minimal injuries sustained by the gladiators! You hated seeing people in pain. Perhaps, that's why you chose to be a medicus. So you could help people overcome that pain. You can do it—

"Everyone, restrain him!"

Your eyes flicked to the commotion ensuing at the gates of the infirmary. And then, you gasped. There, stood a bloodied man. Buff, brooding, tall and strong, with a sculpted physique and shoulder-length black hair. His eyes were like pools of hot chocolate, his pupils narrowed into slits as he struggled against the guards restraining him, growling.

"Let go of me!"

"We need back-up, call the other soldi—"

"Oh, my! You're so bloodied!" You gasped, rushing over to this mysterious troublemaker. And then, his eyes met yours, feral and wild. A flicker of something unreadable flashed in them as they roved over your features with unabashed intensity, his tongue flicking over his split lower lip. Mnn. What a fucking vision you were. So beautiful. So ethereal that it was making him angry.

A snarl twisted his lips, "who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Y/n. I'm the new medicus of the gladiators," you quickly introduced yourself, making space to evade if he hit you.

"Don't fret. I do not hit women." Not this beautiful woman, at least such beauty should be displayed in a museum..

You let out a sigh of relief as you noticed this man settle down on the low bench, his frame out of place in the room.

"Well? Work your magic."

You grabbed the vinegar, quickly pouring it over his arm. He winced a little, his face contorting in pain before becoming his usual brooding self.

"You new here?"

"Yes."

"I see. I've never seen you around before," his eyes locked onto yours, "so I figured that much."

"..."

"..."

"So, tell me about yourself!" You brightly smiled at him oh fuck., reaching for the cloth bandages.

"There's nothing to tell. Just been a gladiator for months now. Been the last one standing each time," he scoffed, glaring at you, "what about you? Some pretty princess hired to be eye candy for us all? Or you got actual skills too?"

A fierce blush covered your cheeks as you gasped in indignation, "excuse me? I'll let you know, I was chosen among one hundred and fifty other highly skilled medics! I'm qualified for my job."

"We'll see about that later, Mea vita," a rumbly chuckle escaped him for the first time since he came into the room.

God. You hated how irritatingly good he sounded. His voice was like the finest grape juice in the entirety of Rome, squeezed from the ripest fruit and imbued with a hint of timber. It was delicious. Wait, Y/n! You're not supposed to be fantasizing about some brutal warrior. Focus on your work!

As you bent to retrieve some more cloth bandages, you felt Choso's eyes burn holes into your back, examining your rear with intense focus it's so round and soft.. A grunt of approval exited his lips as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his eyes dark and secretive.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" You sighed, standing up straight. "It's giving me the chills."

"Like what?" Choso leaned back, his arms flexing from the movement yes. Notice him more..

"Like you want to eat me alive," you scoff, grabbing his unnecessarily firm arm to bandage it again your hands are so soft. How does god create a woman so beautiful?.

"Venus. Have you seen her statues?"

"Who hasn't? She's the goddess of love and beauty. Of course, her statues decorate every corn—"

"You look like her,"

"Yeah, and— wait. What? No way," a flush bloomed on your cheeks as you looked away, "you're just flattering me."

An incredulous scoff exited his lips as he stood up, towering over you. His eyes intensely fixated on you, his voice a low growl. "Flattery? Do I look like a man who flatters for no reason? You look good and that's that."

"Still, Venus is Venus and I'm just me!" You reasoned, cleaning your hands with a wet cloth as you meandered away from his bench. Your tunic draped behind you as you arranged the remaining bottles of vinegar in their place, only to feel your tunic be used as leverage to pull you back with physical force.

"Don't face away from me," Choso growled, his eyes fierce, "did no one teach you survival skills?"

"Oh, please! What are you, a wild animal?" You scoffed, maintaining eye contact as you freed your tunic from his savage touch. "Plus, your treatment is done! Go to the barracks."

"It's done already?" A flicker of panic passed through his brown eyes as he clumsily stood up, moving closer. "There's still stuff you need to do, right? It can't possibly be over. No way."

"It's done. It was just a little wound. Nothing too serious, thankfully," you tried to push him towards the exit, but he didn't budge.

"Then— Then you need something done? Some delivery to make or something you need to do?" His scorching eyes searched yours. Why was he making excuses to stay longer he'd stay here his entire life. !?

"No! Like I said, nothing is needed. Just go and rest. You've had a tiring day," you sighed in exasperation, noticing him perk up like an obedient pup.

"Fine," hesitantly, he turned away, exiting the room. Not before giving you one last glance.

For some reason, you couldn't help but think that this wasn't the last time you'd see him.

And you were so right.

Ever since then, he's been following you around like a dog. Quite literally, so. Every morning, after sunrise, he's at it. Freshened and ready for his training. Yet, he never arrives at the grounds. Where he does arrive, though? Your little valetudinaria. Every. single. day.

He tries to hide his broad form behind the pillars, but fails miserably. You always notice him. Such was the case today. Just like usual, you were cleaning your vials when you flinched at the feel of a gaze fixating at your back with intensity that resembled the concentrated rays of the sun through a magnification glass. Of course. None other than Choso did this gaze belong to.

"I know you're there. Please, come out," you sighed, bracing your hands at your hips as you turned to face him.

"I was just. I was— I was just walking by," Choso scoffed, avoiding your gaze, "fine. Do you need anything? Anything at all?"

"Actually, you know what? Yeah. I need to send this package of medicine to the lanista. Can y—"

Before you could even complete that sentence, your hands were freed of the load as Choso literally snatched it from you, nodding before running off with surprising agility. He was actually... reliable?

No way in hell was this package going to some random man. You packaged it with such care and effort. Choso doesn't want anyone else to receive your attention. So, no. He's obviously not going to be delivering this to anyone. It's all an excuse to see you again.

Under ten minutes, the gladiator was back. You brightly smiled at him it's so blinding. "Thank you! You're so reliable. Here, some handmade Lora. I crushed the grapes myself! It's a token my of appreciation."

In an instant, the drink was in his hands as he chugged it down, never breaking eye contact. One gulp. Two gulps. Three gulps. Four gulps. Removing the vessel from his mouth, he licked the residue from his lips, a faint smirk pulling onto his face.

"Delicious."

A blush squirmed its way onto your cheeks as you looked away, huffing. Damn your stupid heart. "Reminds me, Choso! Will you be coming to Saturnalia?"

"No."

"Why? It's so much fun! There are drinks, food, dancing, so many things! You should come," you smiled brightly, "enjoy yourself a little."

"Are you going?" He grumbled, leaning against the pillar again.

"Ye—"

"I'm also going, then."

"Why're you tying the festival to my arrival alone?" You let out an incredulous laugh, shaking your head softly. The movement made a few hair strands escape the loose braid you had made of your hair, framing your face prettily. Fuck. He's addicted.

"Since it's the only thing worth coming for,' Choso immediately blurted out, unabashed. His eyes took in the sight of your now flushed face, basking in its beauty. You're so beautiful.

God. Suddenly, Saturnalia can't come soon enough.

The strong fragrance of grape wine hung in the air as you made your way past the stalls and dancers in the street. Saturnalia was so worth the wait! Playing with the long sleeves of the new dress you wore for the festival, paired with the flower crown you crafted yourself, you were a vision! A vision Choso just happened to stumble upon he followed you..

Tailing your radiant form from afar, his brooding form pushed past the swooning ladies, parting them like the Red sea. His eyes were fixed solely on you as they had been all this time, pure limerence reflected in them..

So, why was it so that another man had dared to look at you for so long? He's asking for death. Holding his breath, Choso examined his body language. And then, the final chord of control within him snapped.

The man had dragged you into an alleyway, his intentions clear. The gladiator saw red. With a roar of fury, he launched himself at the man, plummeting his face with sickening punches.

"I'll fucking gouge your eyes out, you sick bastard!"

Just as he was about to sink his nails into his eyeballs, your soft voice broke through his red haze.

"Choso! Please, stop!" You cried out, only to be dragged behind his broad form by your hand.

"Shh. You don't need to look at anything, Meum Mel. Just leave it to me—"

"I don't want to see another person get hurt because of me any further," you sniffled. The sound of your quivering voice only fueled his anger.

"He deserves every single thing I'm doing to him," with a snarl, he threw the man back, turning to you. Brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, his firm arms wrapped around your form in a protective embrace. "Shhhh. I'm here now."

"I was so scared," you sniffled, clutching his tunic. The sight of you in tears broke his heart apart.

"I'm here now. Don't cry, Mea Vita, don't cry," Choso's voice trembled with the sheer force of his emotions, his arms tightening around your form, "just rely on me from now on. After all, I'm devoted to you and you alone."

And the most dangerous part? It's that your heart didn't protest against this connection. Perhaps, this is what you needed. A guard dog of a man to call your own. And Choso oh-so happened to be that man for you oh, what would you do if you found out that he had organized it all to become your hero to begin with? The only difference between a hero and a villain is about who narrates the tale..

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Choso sends you some grapes 🍇 Do send requests for more! 🤍

[unlikely-checkers]

if people don't stop misgendering my friend, I'm gonna make their pronouns was/were