Valtor Yandere headcanons
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no gender-specific pronouns, y/n is a galaxy fairy, mediocre writing but the effort's there
the scarcity of valtor fics is so mind-boggling, i had to haul myself out of a year-long’s writer’s block to write this 😭 i hope my fellow valtor lovers enjoy this ♡
You were the latest member of the Winx, your powers linked to the cosmic forces and other higher deities like the very Dragon Fire and ethereal fairies, a profound ability he only realized that could help him tremendously in his pursuit for world domination. You had otherworldly features, like starry patterned freckles, glowing pupils the same color as your sclera. He is certain you’ve given people quite the scare if you stared too long because of this.
- His gaze would linger on you through the scrying orb, whether you were with the Winx or not. He’d notice the difference in how you look at your team, full of love and with a softness that could bend anything to your will, meanwhile you stared at him with a hatred that might as well rival Bloom’s. The dichotomy intrigues him greatly. Could he get you to stare at him like he hung the stars in your galaxies?
- He starts to appear in places where you and the Winx happen to be to stir up some trouble, a careless and uncharacteristic move.
- Valtor makes sure to leave the strongest spells for your friends and watch you cry out to them. There is that shift in your eyes, the look of concern and worry for your fallen friends. Just as he perceives it , it disappears in the blink of an eye when your focus is on him.
- Although not a masochist, he enjoys eliciting strong reactions out of you. You always try to come off as calm and regal yet that crumbles around him. It fills him with pride.
- He’d let you land hits on him and bait you into thinking you have defeated him, only to take you down once you let your guard down.
- At times, he disguises himself as a fawn and approaches you whenever you indulged in your alone time in the middle of the forest just in front of Lake Roccaluce. After all, fitting in an already established friend group was tricky.
- He learns about your interests through that form and later uses them to get to you, to appear more likable.
- Valtor isn’t one to easily get jealous. You are an enthralling fairy, to the extent of drawing in the feared sorcerer such as himself with your looks and steadfast personality. However, if any of your admirers were to take it far with their feelings for you, they were bound to mysteriously fall off the face of Magix
- The sorcerer has a fragment of respect for your privacy by refusing to spy on you whilst you take a shower. It’s for both his and your sakes, as the mere thought of seeing you with droplets of water trickling down your nude form is enough to have a tent growing in his pants. That’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy watching you in every other aspect—while you eat, sleep.
- Valtor has no need to rush things, if anything he likes the tension and the build-up as he orchestrates a plan on how to get you by his side. He is similar to you in the sense that once he sets his eyes on something he refuses to let go.
- His blueprint goes rather smoothly as he recognizes your thirst for knowledge beyond the use of light magic. He’s seen your eyes linger too long on the dark magic books from the libraries you’d visit in your home planet, the e-books which covered dark arts and sorcery. This satisfying observation led him to believe that a catalyst had to be put in place for him to be yours.
- He begins to plant seeds of doubt in the soil of your mind, getting you alone first.
“Those books you are ashamed of reading, I have plentiful in my collection. There is no need to be ashamed, curiosity is natural it’s how our brains develop.”
“After all, what is light without darkness?” He circles you like a prey. His words are reassuring, yet you are unwilling.
- He brings you the books nevertheless, keeping his distance. You refuse to take them, but they land on your desk disguised as harmless notebooks on light magic.
- In the dead of night, you flip through the pages of the books until the urge to apply what you have learned becomes unbearable. He lurks, blending in the shadows of the forest, watching the dark tendrils of magic cling onto your skin in ways that make you shiver and shout with fright.
- You are spooked out of your mind, not caring that the sorcerer strokes your hair and holds you as you cling onto him, your form trembling and tears pricking in your eyes. He mutters sweet nothings in your ear and for once, you bask in them. He could reason with your fright, the girls couldn’t. They’d tell you off—become wary of your presence and try to convince you to get rid of the books.
“This has to be a secret. There is no such thing as a fairy learning the tunes in which a sorcerer dances to. The thought of it is simply asinine to single-minded beings. I’m the only one who does not have such silly ‘black-and-white’ views. I’m not asking you to trust me, but you may seek comfort in me once in a while when no eyes are on you.” His hand brushes your hair and you stare at him, eyebrows furrowed and the hesitation swirling in your irisless depths.
