He Doesn't Bite (probably)

cyno is?

a.) working undercover to investigate tighnari

b.) searching for a joke to approach tighnari

🍨📘

_•_•_•_•_•_SEVEN DEADLY SINS_•_•_•_•_•_•_

_PRIDE •WRATH•GLUTTONY•LUST•GREED•ENVY•SLOTH_

(gn!readerXharbingers. title ‘pet’ used,dubious consent(dottore),blood mentions,violence,manipulation,you know the drill)

Pierro feels intense Pride when thinking about his social standing. The first harbinger, the strongest, the most valuable asset to the Tsaritsa. He has everything he could need and more but none of those material goods matter when he has himself. He is typically the voice of reason in harbinger meetings, knocking the other members off of their egotistical thrones. He holds an air of importance, the wise man of the group, but behind closed doors, he admires himself in the mirror, telling you the stories behind each scar littering his toned body. Each battle won, each opponent slaughtered, every fight which led to his current status. ‘You should feel lucky,’ he tells you, gripping your chin- forcing you to meet his gaze ‘Without me, you’d still be rotting in some mud-hole in Mondstadt. I saved you, I made you who you are’. You’ve learned to know that he’s right, he’s taught you to cling to his every word. So you shine his shoes, polish his medals, warm his bed and listen to every heroic tale he tells about himself with wide eyed admiration.

Arlecchino possesses a vengeful spirit. She spits venom at those she dislikes and prays for the demise of those who she disagrees with. Plenty of government officials have peeved her enough that she threatens them behind closed doors, huffing about how they don’t deserve to stand behind those podiums or attend royal balls when they’re such disgusting pigs. She slits the throats of anyone who dares question her authority or collects the eyes of henchmen who dare to look at you without her permission. The eyes in question sit in a jar of water on her desk, floating round and round their glass container. Your stomach flips every time you see them, you feel sick knowing that there are more in there than last time. She interrogates you about any interaction you have with anyone who isn’t her. A chat with the maid, a hushed joke with the butler, a compliment sent to the chef. If she deems an interaction as competition for your affection, those others will feel her Wrath. If you care about the lives of the hired staff or fatui henchmen, you better keep to yourself, don’t look at them, don’t talk to them. Unless you want them to feel the cold blade of your wife’s blade at their neck…

If anyone is the embodiment of Gluttony, it’s Capitano. He doesn’t just fight his enemies, he feasts upon them. He drains their will to live, torments them with the tip of his sword until his prey is begging to be put out of their misery. You see the way he eats his meals, as if he’s been starving for weeks. He viciously cuts into his steak, scarred lips curling up into a wretched smile, those silver teeth glinting in the dark. ‘Why don’t you have some, pet? It’s good~’ he offers you a bite, the gravy spills off of the meat and splats onto the table. He huffs behind the mask, baffled and disappointed when you shake your head. You lean back, refusing to take a bite- you could never stomach it even if you wanted to. With a frustrated growl, he slams his fist down onto the table ‘Whatever, no dinner for you then! Stupid fucking brat- give me that’ he snatches your plate away, dumping its contents onto his own. Blood from the meat splatters up onto his chest and mask, soaking into the white coat he wears. You can’t un-see the way he acted earlier, how hungry he was for battle, how he fought like a bear, covered in blood. The image is burned into your mind… If you think about it much more you’ll be sick…

Dottore’s Lust is insatiable. He lusts for knowledge, for power, for more more more of everything he can get his scarred hands on. He neglects you in favor of spending time in his lab, consulting copies of himself for advice or observing what they do. His little meetings with himself last for hours, sometimes days, and when the fumes become too much or he’s too frustrated with his copies to continue, he seeks you out for stress relief. You hear him before you see him, he’s panting and groaning, kicking the door shut behind him as he approaches the bed where you pretend to sleep. Those gloved hands grope and pinch anywhere they can reach, sharp teeth dig into soft flesh. He doesn’t care that he woke you up to do this, doesn’t care that you’re too tired or too unwell. Right now, he’s lusting for you- nearly drooling at the thought of sinking into you. His mask hides his hungry eyes from view but you know his pupils are blown wide, raking over your exposed body as if it’s the first time he’s seen you this way. When he’s in this state, there isn’t much you can do but submit and hope he’ll be gentle though he never is. Evidence of his lust will always be marked onto you in one way or another

Pantalone has been destined for Greed since childhood. He’s told you his story before, how he grew up in a poor village, watching as his friends gained visions for doing the bare minimum. He succeeded in school, wrote novels worth of economic research, crunched numbers day and night yet no vision came. The glowing orb never appeared in his palm, on his desk or in his pocket. He built himself form the ground up, worked his way through the ranks of the Northland Bank and disposed of his peers who threatened to take a promotion before him. He’s worth billions now, he spends his money on items he doesn’t need to fill that gap in his heart. He possesses so much that his mansion is overly full of trinkets and sparkling decorations. He possesses you too and your neck aches as you’re forced to wear gaudy, heavy jewelry. He keeps his possessions close by, never allowing you to leave his line of sight. You’re all his, everything you own is his. Pantalone has a chokehold on you, your savings, your family’s savings. But it’s never enough. It never will be. He’s greedy, he knows he is, and he accepts it fully, smiling as he fills his pockets with mora and diamonds, holding your hand tightly in his own

Envy flows through Tartaglia’s veins, making his blood thicker and bitter. He paces his room, ranting fiercely ‘Why don’t they see how strong I am? Some girl gets to be Number Four while I’m stuck at Eleven? Put us all in a room together, I’ll come out Number One! You’ll see- they’ll ALL see how terribly the underestimated me!’ He laughs, the awful sound bouncing off the walls of the empty corridor. You awkwardly shift your weight, flinching when he yanks you in by your collar ‘You see how strong I am, right?’ You caress his bloodstained cheek, nodding along, reassuring him that the others don’t know what they’re missing. Ajax is so bitter about his position, he believes he deserves more and he’s jealous of those who rank above him. Now that Signora is dead and Scaramouche is missing, he’s eyeing the Eighth and Sixth spots on the roster, badgering his comrades about dueling regulations. He wants to be the best and won’t let anyone get in his way. You better be his biggest supporter… well… it isn’t like you have a choice

Those who exhibit Sloth are often characterized as sleepy or lazy. An uncommon, but perfect, characterization exists for Scaramouche: apathetic. He shows little emotion, marble eyes stare at you without a hint of concern as you hold your bleeding hand up to him. He rolls his eyes as he wraps your injury and simply discards you once he’s finished the task. You don’t believe he loves you, that he’d care if you died or went away forever to live a life with a better man. He degrades you in his monotone voice, lifeless eyes boring into your very soul as you apologize for speaking out of line. You observe him work, listen to him talk to subordinates. He sounds so bored… Part of you wants to test the waters, to throw a fit so dramatic, so catastrophic that he has to respond. But no matter what you do, no matter your injuries, tears, laughter, proclamations of love… you never get a proper response. A dull ‘love you too’ or ‘get out of my face’ is uttered, emotionless and robotic. Giving up would be the easy way out but maybe, just maybe, you can push things further just out of morbid curiosity. Is there anything you can do to get him to see you? To react to you?

HIII I love ur smaus and the way you write the characters are just ,,,,,jdjdjdjjs anwyas,, could u mayhaps pls do a Bakugou x romantically oblivious reader?? I just think the dynamic would be hilarious LOLL !! ty and hope u have a great day/night!! :)) <33

wait, are you flirting? | k. bakugo

bakugo is very obviously into you. you think he's just a strangely intense friend.

Followers Event

hi hi hiii (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) since I have reached 1,000 followers here I have decided to open up a little event, nothing too big or complicated so everything should go (hopefully) a lot smoother and faster! Once again thank you all for this huge milestone I still can’t believe it.. Like always, minors don’t interact! My blog contains dark content, interact at your own risk! 

Edit of 02/12: This event is officially closed! Future requests sended about this event will be deleted.

What I will do are drabbles, for all the fandoms that I write for, requested in ask form. Here are all the links and rules about it:

✥ Here is the prompt list, please make sure to not ask more than two numbers per ask and not more than 3 characters, of whatever fandoms

✥ The ask should be something like this: Number(s) + Character(s) (Fandom) + who says the phrase (in case you want sub character or reader lol)

✥ This is the list of fandoms that I write for, please make sure to check it before sending an ask!

✥ Available slots 20/20

And if you really, really wish so you can tip me on my ko-fi (that I will later put in my bio), but only if you reeeaaally wish to and have the possibility to do so. Don’t force yourself, I am happy for whatever kind of support you may give me, take care of yourself first!

sometimes, being in love can hurt. w/ bakugou! :D warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, ambiguous ending

"i love you." he swallows thickly, "you know that right?" bakugou stares at you from where you stand at the other end of the room, your arms hugging your body as if it was the only comfort it could bring you in the cold, tension filled room. two candles flicker in the corner of the room, side by side on a mahogany table where papers threaten to catch fire and burn, the same way your eyes burn as tears begin to sting the longer you keep your eyes open. blinking means letting the tears rush down your cheek, blinking means crying, blinking means breaking. and the last person you want to break in front of, is bakugou katsuki.

"i know." your voice is surprisingly steady, far too calm for his liking. but the tell-tale signs of your nervousness are present: a shaky inhale, lip pulled between teeth, and shaking hands you curl into fists. you refuse to meet his gaze, no matter how hard he silently begs, and he can feel that anxiety creeping into his chest.

for once, he sucks up his pride, that same explosive pride that drips from his words like pretty poison, sinking beneath the skin until it burns. he swallows thickly as he stares at you and for the first time, he can't tell what's going through your mind. it scares him, more than he'd like to admit. his mind screams at him to do something, do anything that might offer some sort of comfort. but his limbs refuse to move, the mere thought of you moving away being enough to render him still.

so where did it all go wrong? when did coming home start to feel like anxiety crawling up your arms when you twisted the doorknob to enter a space that was once filled with love. bakugou katsuki rises to the top with a triumphant grin, baring his fangs for all to see as he shows off the skills that have gotten him so far. and still, he refuses to stop, brandishing scars like medals, roaring for victories as he grins at the sight of villains cowering just at the sound of his name.

you take a shaky breath, "it's just, sometimes— sometimes, bakugou, you can be so cruel." bakugou. bakugou. not katsuki. not baby. not any of the sweet nicknames that have tumbled from your lips with such laughing adoration. just, bakugou.

"you say you don't mean things when you're upset." your voice cracks and his brows furrow. his hands twitch at his sides but just as he's ready to move forward, you look up at him and let him see the tears that are threatening to fall. "so why doesn't it feel that way?"

instantly, he's brought back to the night before, when he greeted you after a long day from work with nothing but an irritated grunt. you had tried, as calmly and patiently as you could, to coax him to open up, stepping on eggshells in the warm space of your living room until he snuffed it out. words bounced around the walls as voices rose, desperation in your tone as you refused to back down from him.

this is what it meant to fall in love with bakugou katsuki. it's harsh words and cold sneers, putting up a front and reminding yourself, after your tears had dried, that he still cared. he shows his love in different ways, and he tries his best to show that he cares.

"i'm sorry." he says hoarsely. he doesn't know what else to say anymore. he can feel the thread about to break and the thought of that terrifies him. he sees the first tear fall and his chest lurches. you brush it away as quickly as it fell and look away, up at the ceiling in an attempt to blink away the rest that have started to spill down your cheeks.

"i need to cool off." you take a deep breath and take a step back. "i've already texted mina. i'm staying at her place tonight."

he remains frozen in place, unable to move, only to whisper, "okay," as his voice breaks.

perhaps in another time, in another world where the stars were honest and the moon didn't tell lies in reflection pools, things would be different. and as you walk out the door, a candle dies out.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: this was supposed to be a tighnari fic but i felt like it fits bakugou better!

´Cause two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead :)

Hehehehe comedy and tragedy masks depictions anyone?? This was so fun to do! And I shaded both Moon and Sun differently! Moon is shaded in my „dark space“ shading and Sun is shaded in „normal/light space“ shading :D

remember,

you are a writer.

say it. say it in your head, say it out loud, say it to yourself as many times as you need to say it.

you are a writer.

and it doesn't matter when you started, or where you skills and style lie in this literary world. what matters is that you are a writer and you're sharing your works. sending out real works to publications, literary journals, etc. is scary and rejection is normal. and yet you're here, on tumblr, on ao3, writing works because you can.

and you know what, you're reaching an audience who looks forward to your works and that's something to be proud of. whether it's a few people who read your works, to hundreds, to thousands, you're reaching an audience and you should be proud of that!!

there are times when writing gets hard and giving up feels so easy, but what's so admirable about everyone here is that we keep going. we take breaks and read other people's works, we take hiatuses to focus on ourselves and come back with new ideas and even more writing. and even if you decide that perhaps writing fanfiction isn't your forte anymore, that's okay. you wrote because you could and you did.

you are a writer. and that's something to be very proud of.

synopsis | in which every kiss was an answer

tags | fluff, drabble, royalty au, mentioned/implied arranged marriage, mention of the words "kill" and "war" but no killing involved and no descriptions of war

reader | gender neutral

notes | inspired heavily by (+ some dialogues taken from) a scene in the manhwa "saving my sweetheart" && for @yae-publishing-house's winter writing challenge

"But, Ayato, aren't you cold?" your breath materialized into a cloud in the air.

He shook his head no. He brought his hands to your waist and pulled you closer. You looked away from him; you didn't know what else to say. It was strange. Supposedly, he was just kind to you, undoubtedly so. He took care of his own people, fought bravely against those who needlessly opposed them. That was the Lord of Yashiro. He hated you, he hated the leader of the land you were from. He was forced into this marriage to protect his people; how could he love you, when you had the blood of those he hated most?

You'd looked away from him, but he'd kept his eyes locked on you. "I'd thought I'd made it painfully obvious," his other hand, strangely warm, took hold of your cheek. "Did the kiss from last night not suffice? Was my lips upon yours, which had never touched another's in such a way, not enough?"

It was hard to understand. He was simply inexplicable, as to why he loved you so. At first, when you'd asked him to kiss you the first time, it was so that you wouldn't be surprised when you did kiss with him when needed. The nobles' mouths ran too far all the time. They said he wouldn't love you. They said he'd kill you, bring reason to war.

"Do you really love me?" you looked up at him. His kindness may have been inexplicable if he didn't love you- but now, still even if he didn't, he'd at least have to try much harder to look like it.

"Yes," that was all that he had said in response.

"If you truly mean it, then kiss me as if you really love me. Then, I'll believe you."

It wasn't even seconds before his lips hit yours, his hand bringing you closer to him. There wasn't a thought as your arms went around him ever so naturally, and it was more than difficult to separate from the kiss.

"Would you be shocked if I kissed your hand?" No. You let him kiss you again, bringing you closer to him. Despite the rigid cold of the air, it was warm. You could feel his heartbeat, faster than you thought it could go in such a situation.

"What if I interlaced my fingers with yours and wrapped my arm around your waist?"

"You're already halfway there."

"What if I pulled you closer and kissed you once more?" he asked. There was no one there besides you and him.

"Try it," you said. Your warm breath and the cold air hit his skin, and in milliseconds, your lips connected once more.

If there was one thought Ayato wished he was able to voice that day, it would be:

You cannot begin to imagine the depths of my greed and how badly I want to touch you.

SLEUTH JESTERS

I read sleuth jesters while I was away from home and i ended up adoring it and then going "im gonna make a simple fanart" and ended up learning how to tween LMAOOO

Anyways this is a gift for @sunnys-aesthetic, creator of the Detective Au and @naffeclipse, the amazing writer behind Sleuth Jester on AO3!

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