#(they in de shadows but still here so they must be tagged :) )

[mewkwota]

Re:Initialization

So while I had joked lightly that in NxC both Volnutt and Juno are experiencing amnesia, I think I figured out how the latter ended up with it. It's implied that the Legends characters are from some point after the end of the first game, and that Meio brought back Juno somehow. Even if we were to assume some traces of Juno's data made it to Eden, his body was still destroyed. So it's possible this lead to some complications in putting him back together.

Does that sound familiar?

This all started because I wanted to do better in drawing Juno's sleeping face and it kinda spiraled from there. I won't apologize.

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt iii

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, more ships/love triangles to come, though, so stay tuned.

Summary: the deciver has decided he must get rid of you until a stranger reignites his curiosity in an unexpected way.

Word count: 2k

Notes: let me know if you wanna be tagged. I was not expecting this many people to like this fic. Thank you so much for the feed back, I read every comment and reblog multiple times. Keep any and all feedback coming. I'm super invested in this series and have so many plans that I'm so excited to write.

Tags/warning: male masturbation, nothing super explicit but sauron has some pretty unhealthy kinks, slow burn, saurons post nut clarity is murder plotting, sauron being sauron. galadriel finally shows up, cliffhanger

Series Masterlist

“She does nothing but sit there, day in and day out. Our rations are wasted on her!” 

“All of us sit and do nothing because there is fucking nothing to do.”

Halbrand and the older man were fighting again. Halbrand had become annoyed that the other had declared himself the de facto leader of the raft, and his anger exploded when it was proclaimed you had not 'earned' your rations. He had obviously found it absolutely insane and when you made no sound or protest, he took it upon himself to make it known how insane it was. 

“I am the leader here. I have organized the rations, I have kept order, and I have directed where we go.” The other man seemed offended. He had proven himself to be rather arrogant, and you held no surprise that he would suggest such a thing or believe that he was the leader of the raft.

“Oh great Lord of the Raft. How difficult your job must be. Deciding if we die a little to the west or a little to the east.” Halbrand rolled his eyes as he spoke. 

“Be sarcastic all you want. She's lucky we don't throw her in.” 

The air stilled and a dark shadow passed over Halbrands face, his jaw clenched and in a moment he had grabbed the other by their shirt, “The moment you do that is the moment I feed you and every single person on this raft to the wyrm.” Their faces merely inches apart,  Halbrands voice was cold, full of hatred, and it sent a chill over everyone on the raft. The older man stared up at him with fear, a fear so palpable and intense that it was as if he was looking into the eyes of the great foe himself. 

“Halbrand,” you spoke softly, fingers gently wrapping around his wrist and moving him away. “This is not what I wish.”

He turned to look at you and his gaze softened,tongue peaking out to wet his lips. The air flowed again, and the darkness lifted, “You wish to starve? Because that's his wish, that's his plan. He wants to make our supply of food last longer by taking the very little portion you have. He knows you would never say anything to him, and you can not ask me to sit back and watch you starve, sweet one.” His eyes searched your face as he spoke with such earnest conviction. 

“I do not wish for you to murder in my name,” you replied in a passionate whisper. 

Halbrand nodded, sighing softly, “Then I will not,” he leaned closer to you, so his lips were next to your ear, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin. Your breath caught in your voice as he whispered softly, “Know that I would, though. If you only asked, I would burn this raft and everyone on it to keep you safe.” 

He pulled away and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you stood speechless. The butterflies in your stomach exploded. This was new. Your interactions had been purely platonic until this point. He never presented himself as someone more than a friend, and you had been content with that. Yet you enjoyed the feeling of his lips on your forehead and greatly missed them when they were gone. 

The talk of murdering everyone else was one you didn't wish to dwell on. Perhaps it was hyperbolic. Perhaps said in anger. Either way, those were thoughts for another time. Now, you would embrace the shivers and butterflies. 

“Well, your highness, she will be eating today and I will ensure it,” Halbrand gave the man a pointed look and the other simply nodded, his eyes still swimming as if he'd seen some great horror but you were too fixated on the ghost of Halbrands kiss that lingered on your forehead to pay it much mind. 

~

He'd taken the deception too far when he placed that kiss upon your head. He regretted it the moment he did it. The taste of your skin stained his lips, and it was all he could think of. Your skin felt unbelievably soft and he could just imagine what your lips would taste like, your tongue, your cunt. 

Your cunt. The thought of it had been all consuming. Warm and wet. Soft and velvety. He ached to feel it, to taste it, to take it. The thoughts had led to his current position, standing at the edge of the raft with his cock in his fist. This act felt below him but the thoughts wouldn't leave his mind and he needed some relief from them. From the thoughts of you. 

Thoughts of your cunt. 

Warm and wet. Soft and velvet. 

His eyes fluttered, and his breath caught in his throat. He hated every second of this. He had no control. Ever since you looked up at him with those eyes of yours, eyes he wanted to make weep as you choked on his cock. He breathed a soft curse as he imagined your sweet, innocent eyes looking up at him with your lips wrapped around his cock. His thumb collected the precum from his tip and worked it around his shaft, the soft wet sounds filling the night. 

Would you be inexperienced?  Had someone claimed you before? You were his and his alone, his precious sweet one. The thought of someone else having you first filled him with such rage. He would drench his hands in their blood and paint your body with it as he fucked you. His hands around your neck, squeezing enough to feel your life thrumming underneath his fingers. 

You were his and his alone. No one else could touch you, no other lips taste you, no other cock take you. He'd burn all of Middle Earth to ensure it, torture any man who dared look at you. He'd carve his name into your flesh, lick the blood off your skin. A growl escaped his lips, the thought of his name scared into your soft skin. His hand tightened around his cock and his movements increased in speed. 

His breathing got more ragged as he got closer to his peak,  your name tumbling past his lips in a choked whisper. He could almost imagine you whining and whimpering his name, his real name.  That was what sent him over, the visual of you impaled on his cock and desperately calling his name. He groaned loudly, his seed shooting into the water. 

Breathing heavily, his eyes closed. Almost immediately, the cacophony of thoughts entered his mind. That had been a brief reprieve, but now his existential crisis continued. What was his purpose? Who was he now that his master was dead? Power and control, how could he have both without sacrificing the other?  

And then your smiling face flashed through his mind, the sound of your laugh...-

This couldn't continue. No amount of curiosity was worth this loss of control. He was a god, but his mind as of late had been reminiscent of a teenage boy. Thoughts may plague him, but he would forget you within the age. He needed you gone, dead. The longer you stayed alive, the longer these damn lustful thoughts would plague him and be his undoing. He was slowly losing his sanity because of you. 

The problem was he couldn't do it. He tried mere minutes before giving into these urges, but as he looked at your sleeping face, he couldn't bring himself to push you in and under the waves. In thousands of years, no one had been able to still his blade or stay his hand with such ease. He couldn't look at you and take your life. He could not be the one to do it, that thought alone proving to be more a reason for your death. Weakness was not something he would tolerate. 

His mind called out to wyrm, calling it to their location. If he couldn't do it, he'd give the task to something else. By nightfall tomorrow, you'd be gone. You'd be at the bottom of the sea or in the belly of the beast. By nightfall, he'd have his mind back. 

Why did the thought of your death fill him with such dread?

~

He wouldn't even look at you. You'd greeted him in the morning, and he ignored you. You sat next to him, and he moved to the other side of the raft. You watched as his eyes bore into planks of the raft. You wet your lips and pulled it between your teeth. He was your first friend in a very long time, and now you had lost him for reasons that escaped you.  You were utterly alone, lost at sea, and you struggled to find hope here. All you could do is close your eyes and remind yourself that falling into despair would do nothing more than make the situation worse and more hopeless.

You watched the clouds pass in the sky, counting them, and your fingers tapped away at the wood. Every few moments, you had to blink away the tears that had started welling in your eyes as you thought of losing another person you cared for. Suddenly, you sat up as you heard what you thought was a voice in the air. You squinted as your eyes examined the fog.

“There's a voice on the water.” You spoke quietly. 

Almost instantly, bickering broke amongst the others. To save her or not. You shook your head, “We're not leaving her to starve and die!” 

One of the others pulled her up and gave her water as you grabbed her a chunk of bread and looked for a piece of cloth or something that could bring the stranger some warmth. The bickering continued as you searched and returned with a piece of bread.

“Suppose you'll be sharing your rations?” the old man asked. 

You couldn't help the roll of your eyes, “Damn the rations,” you kneeled and handed the stranger the bread. “It's not much, but it's something. Are you hurt?” 

Before she could answer, one of the others asked, “What are you doing out here?”  

The stranger took the bread, “I was separated from my ship.” 

You looked at her with empathy. Of course, you could understand. She looked over at you as if to answer your question next, but she stopped, her eyes examining your face as if she knew you but was unable to place how. It made you uncomfortable, made your heart still. Has your past caught up with you all the way out here? 

“She doesn't look dangerous,” the other woman spoke.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Halbrand spoke, and you were about to protest when you saw the point to her ears. Your blood ran cold, and you moved back from her. 

“Remove your hand from me, sir,” the stranger spoke, her attention returning to you. “I know your face.”

You quickly stood up and stepped back. This could not be happening. Not here. Not now. Perhaps the elf could save you, or perhaps she would convince the others to throw you into the sea. The sins of your father would never stop chasing you, it seemed. 

~

“I know your face."

His head snapped your direction at this revelation. What did that mean? How would an elf know you? He watched your reaction, the fear and shame passing over your face confirming that there was a story there. He cursed silently.

All day, he avoided looking at you. All day, he had convinced himself that you were nothing more than a naive human, that the warmth he felt had to be in relation to this new form getting used to the world around him. There was nothing special about you. Nothing at all. He repeated it over and over, though he never really believed it. He could sense the darkness and calamity swimming through the ocean towards them, the beast he had called, and he had convinced himself that your death would solve his internal struggle. 

But now, this damn elf had reignited the curiosity with vigor. It felt as if an inferno burnt through him. He had to know more. He knew when the wyrm came, he would be unable to leave you to death. You were the most curious thing, and it was infuriating. 

Who were you? 

previous next

[aloysiavirgata]

(if you are accepting prompts!) what iffffff you wrote a soft gentle little fic in which Scully has a spectacularly unlovely head cold and after some grouching Mulder looks after her? There are so many moments of peril on x files that sometimes it’s nice when the enemy is just a simple rhinovirus, lol.

He doesn’t even attempt to make it himself. Calls ahead to Loeb’s with his order, which he accepts from a stylish young Mexican man whose name tag reads Pierre.

“A sheynem dank,” Mulder says, echoing the grandmother who called Samantha a shaineh maideleh.

Pierre nods. “Bitte, baby,” he says. “De nada.”

***

Mulder clomps up her stairs with Puritan determination. He feels that since he did not cook the food himself he must exert some other effort for it. His soul is at eternal war with itself.

He doesn’t knock; lets himself in with the Home Depot key Scully had made for him around the time that Tooms wanted into her pants for all the wrong reasons. It sticks a little still, even after so many years. He’s rarely had to use it - when aren’t they together?

A hacking noise from her bedroom, something wet being coughed. Spat.

Mulder helps himself to a bowl, a plate, a spoon.

“I’b arbed,” she rasps from down the hall. “I’b a Federal Agent.”

“Don’t shoot,” Mulder calls back, hunting down a napkin. “I am a poor boy from a poor family.” Her mother wears Revlon and his wears Guerlain.

He tips some soup and two of the matzo balls into a bowl, wedges one of the challah rolls next to it. He puts the leftovers in the fridge.

Mulder carries the plate down the hall, the nearly-full bowl sloshing dangerously atop.

He enters Scully’s bedroom. She’s been upgrading over the past couple of years, replacing her IKEA basics with good secondhand finds in cherry and walnut. The candle she’s lit smells like white flowers with thick, creamy petals.

Scully is tucked into bed like an Austen heroine, all delicate pallor and genteel unhappiness. Her nose is pink-tipped and raw, hair in a ponytail. She’s wearing a gray sweatshirt instead of her usual pajamas.

Mulder sets the food down on her nightstand, next to a vase of dried roses and her Yaqui slide holster. A speed loader. There’s a well-framed Monet print over the bed.

Pat Conroy’s Beach Music is open face down on her lap, surrounded by crumpled tissues. She doesn’t look happy to see him, her purple-shadowed eyes narrowing a bit.

“Go away,” she says. Sneezes.

“Brought you some soup,” he says, unnecessarily. Points at it, also unnecessarily.

“Bulder,” she sniffs. “Go hobe. I don’t like being fussed over. I hab a cold, dot Ebola.”

“Too bad,” he says. “I’m going to. Do you have Vick’s Vapor Rub? You really should have Vick’s Vapor Rub.”

She closes her eyes. Pinches the bridge of her nose, centering herself. “It’s dot your fault I’b sick,” she says, looking back over at him after a moment.

“I dragged you into the woods again. You fell down a hole full of corpses! You’ve been in remission for like…twenty minutes.” He jabs the spoon at her.

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t get a cold frob being in the woods. Or frob being chilly. You get a cold frob a virus.”

He feigns outrage. “Excuse me, but are you contradicting noted excellent mother-slash-world-class-epidemiologist Doctor Teena Mulder MD?”

This sends Scully into a flurry of coughing. She swats at him in annoyance. “Ugh,” she says at last. “You see why I can’t hab you here, you’re a lousy durse.”

Mulder takes her hand, pale as a kid glove. He shoves the spoon into it, squeezes her fingers about the handle. “Eat the soup or I’m calling your mom. I’m calling BILL.”

She narrows her eyes again. “You wouldn’t.”

“I think you’re well aware that I’m capable of being overly dramatic when the wind is southerly and the fancy strikes.” He holds the plate before her like an offering to a goddess.

Scully considers him. “You did get us out ob the teabwork sebidar,” she observes. “Techdically.”

“I did,” he agrees.

“You bade be sing,” she adds. Reproachful.

He grins. “The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two.”

Scully looks at the spoon in her hand for the first time, as though wondering how it got there.

“Byron,” she says, a little smile. She picks up the roll, examines it. Peers at the soup. Sneezes again. “Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”

“Caroline Lamb,”Mulder replies. He doesn’t point out that Caroline Lamb had been Byron’s lover, that she’d sent him a clipping of her pubic hair in the mail. He certainly doesn’t think of the juncture between Scully’s thighs at all, whether it matches the drapes, whether it tastes like kettle corn and Vineyard whitecaps in July. Lobster rolls and saltwater taffy.

He’d meant it, about the sleeping bag. He wishes there had been a sleeping bag and he is so, so grateful there was no sleeping bag.

Scully sniffles again, defeated. “You got be batzo ball soup?”

He thumbs an escaped tendril of hair back from the sweep of her extraordinary cheekbone.

“I did,” he murmurs back. He sets the plate down between them. He peels the roll open, yeasty and fragrant, and dunks it into the golden broth.

He raises it to her mouth.

Scully sucks at it, draws it past her lips. She bites. Chews, swallows. She holds his eyes with hers. She catches an escaped droplet with her tongue.

“Good,” she mumbles. Watches him dip the dry part back into the bowl. “Thank you.”

He feeds her another bite. Her mouth opens like a snapdragon, like an oyster in the tide. She drops her gaze this time. Her guard.

They complete the entire roll this way, and one matzo ball. Silent, slurpy. Scully’s lids droop, her lashes brushing her cheeks.

“Sleepy,” she mumbles, curling onto her side. Her paperback falls to the floor.

Mulder returns the food to the night table. He strokes her hair until she’s out cold, snoring a little. He curls into the bed as well, his nose to hers. He touches her philtrum with his pointer finger. He traces the tender pink whelk of her ear.

They sleep for hours until she coughs awake, gasping, her thin chest heaving. Mulder rubs circles between her scapulae.

“Go hobe,” she says, knees drawn, leaning against his chest. “You deed to sleep.”

He puts his arms around her, drops a kiss on her tangled head. “Okay,” he agrees.

She’s out again in moments. He holds her upright until he drifts off as well.

They sleep until morning. He feeds her soup for breakfast, calls into work with a case of Ebola.

[crazykuroneko]

IWTV Fanfiction Recommendations 🫶

I think I have read enough IWTV fics now, so I will list the ones I've bookmarked. All Loustat unless stated otherwise. And since I limit the number of on-going fics I read, you will find mostly completed, one shots, or serialized one-shot fics here. ❤️ means personal favorite. (Also, I don't always remember the author's Tumblr username, so if you know the ones I didn't link, please tell me)

AMC IWTV-verse fics

on brûlera toutes les deux en enfer, mon ange by Tash_ka ❤️

An Episode 5 divergent AU where Lestat's protective side kicked in when he looked at Claudia when she came back. Perfect serotonin and great resolution. Read the sequel as well

outcast of all this night by @puentera

Armand/Daniel, after Daniel came home from Dubai. A must read for Devil's Minion enthusiasts imo. Love the travelling and Daniel's daughters. Check other titles under the series as well.

fear death by water (what the thunder said) by @lgbtiwtv

In which Louis decided not to go with Claudia after Ep 7 and tended to Lestat instead. Or "Louis Phantom Thread-ing Lestat" as I affectionately call it. Love the language and Louis' internal conflict.

The Unreleased Interviews of Louis de Pointe du Lac by @fablesdelightme

Aka "extra" interviews Louis did to accompany his interview in the show. Personally, it's hard for me to read first person POV, but author captures Louis' voice well. Nice to challenge your interpretation of the show. My personal favorite of the series is Light of My Life, or The Lullaby ❤️. I love the romanticism in the words. But overall, a very beautiful series. Not all is Loustat, so mind the tags.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same (modern loustat series) by @thefairylights ❤️

The modern rock star!Lestat AU we all need where Loustat (finally) see a therapist! A mix between show and book-verse' canon. A fun light read with the perfect amount of fluff and angst. My personal favorites from the series are There is an indentation in the shape of you, made your mark on me, a golden tattoo and Here lies a heart that feels touched by fire, howling at the moon for you.

The Right Regrets by @dreamofme9 ❤️

You want to cry while reading the longest most romantic sex scene ever? This is it. I mean, fr the internal conflict Louis is having and all the love he feels for both Lestat and Claudia is 🤌

Basically, all fics written by @amc-iwtv

She has my favorite "voice" for both Louis and Lestat it's insane. My favorites are Valentine Medley ❤️, Bed Death (Loumand, with Loustat in the shadow), Familiar Taste of Poison (this fic is basically half canon for me idc), Written In The Stars Above (a very hot '80s rock star Lestat AU) ❤️, God Complex (Crazy In Love) (that Ep 6 scene from Lestat's POV).

Is It Too Much? by @thatgothicgay ❤️

aka what if Louis didn't say yes at the church and Loustat somehow found a way to communicate better. Love how the series handle the show's conflicts. Has a lot of de Pointe du Lacs feels. The sequel is on-going and worth the wait.

My Companion Heart by @mythicaltzu ❤️

Vampiric modern AU with satisfying murder mystery. Love the ending and Louis' characterization here.

Let the Tale Seduce You by (again) @mythicaltzu

Very different and intriguing take on the "unreliable narrator".

All the Ashes in My Wake by jeremystollemyheart

In the spirit of erasing Talbot from the show 🫡, what if it's Louis who's there with Lestat during the TOTBT suicide attempt? Short, but beautiful

Whispers in my mind by @nalyra-dreaming

It's written for me but idc lol. Beautiful fic of Louis' internal conflict in trying to free himself from Lestat's shadow post-Rue Royale until he realizes everything crumbling down again

These devils of yours, they need love too by (again) @thefairylights

In which Louis finally asked Lestat to kill Antoinette for him when Claudia was still away but somehow found it didn't change anything for him. The angst towards the end 🤌

your mouth and madness by @brightfelon ❤️

A non-vampiric modern AU of four-way Lestat/Louis/Armand/Daniel polycule aka Thee Polycule fic. Idk how to describe it except (insert that Lady Gaga's talented, incredible, amazing etc etc gif here). I think we should pitch this fic to Rolin so he would produce a spin-off series based on this fr. Light read, fun, right amount of angst, yet still tackling the conflicts the characters face in the show

Book-verse fics

Begin Again by @licncourt

My first loustat fic I read. Good for show-audience who haven't read the books but want to know loustat's relationship in the book-verse. Set after QotD (3rd book)

Experimental Methods by @zisurru

Loustat experimenting with Fareed's invention and everything that comes with it 😏

A Collected History of The Vampire Lestat (1968-1978) by @mutantmouse

it's rare for me to read epistolary fic, but I enjoyed this. very unique, and Loustat is all over the place. A glam rock and non-vampiric, but not really human either AU

Questions at Midnight by @sofipitch

A canon compliant AU from Prince Lestat era. I have to admit I like the idea of Rose, and this explores that in relation to Loustat.

L' Interversion by @calipsan

An AU where Louis went to Paris after being turned into vampire by other, found Lestat, and turned him instead. You don't really need to know the book canon for this.

[teecupangel]

idk but omg ive been brainrotting over an asoiaf/game of thrones and ac crossover. like assassins striking fear in the hearts of the targaryen dynasty ever since maegor the cruel was found dead alone on the throne. i feel like things wouldve been better if someone just thought to unalive mad king aerys. but would that mean so many terrible lords suddenly getting assassinated and their decendants peer pressured to be decent rulers unless they meet the same fate dfkgjhgfj

Welp, it seems the tags are not working for me because I just spent 15ish minutes trying to find these. XD

Anyway…

Here’s a “Desmond sorta adopts Dany and Vis” idea.

Here’s a “Desmond turns into a White Dragon during HOTD” idea and the continuation.

So, for this one, we’re going for the Brotherhood exists in the ‘verse of asoiaf, right? In that scenario, we can make the Brotherhood become a more ‘honorable’ off-shoot of Faceless Men. We’ll probably need to change the backgrounds of the characters but this would be set as the main characters of AC doing what they do best (and I kinda like the idea that Ezio is the son of a minor house that got fucked over by the Lannisters during the war of the five kings).

I kinda like the idea of Altaïr being the one to kill King Aerys and becoming the mentor of Ezio, Desmond and Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Maybe their backstory would be that the Mad King managed to purge most of the Assassins and Altaïr was one of the few survivors so killing him had been both to protect Westeros and to avenge the death of his brothers while he was still young.

So this would be more in the lines of a man that’s suddenly thrust into becoming a mentor of men not that much older than him.

As I have written before, Ezio would be the son of a fallen minor house that got trampled on by the Lannister during the start of the War of the Five Kings.

I think Ratonhnhaké:ton can be part of the Green Men. 

While Desmond is a bastard of unknown origins who is actually also a survivor of the purge and found Altaïr after he had killed the Mad King. They were searching for other survivors of their Brotherhood when they saved Ezio and met Ratonhnhaké:ton who told them that he had dreamed of them. 

So, in this situation, their Brotherhood continued the ‘fight’ during the War of the Five Kings but there’s only four of them so they can’t assassinate fast enough to stop all the tragedy that happens.

But… 

The shadows they cast are slowly being heard by those who live.

Those being oppressed see them as hope.

And those who are in power… believe they will see their end soon.

But the longer they lived, the more lives they take, leaving behind a bloody feather as their ‘message’...

The more fear gripped those who remain.

.

Unorganized Notes:

I focused on Westeros because the other asoiaf asks I got were Targayen focused XD

Ezio’s habit of being friendly with nobles/people in power returns and this time he thinks allying with the Starks is a good idea. Thankfully for him, Robb Stark is more honorable than Lorenzo de' Medici. Unfortunately for him, Robb Stark is more honorable than the other lords in Westeros. 

If you want Arya to be an Assassin, I would suggest Ratonhnhaké:ton being the one to find her. Your choice of when he finds her though.

Altaïr does not approve of Ezio becoming close with the Starks, only because the Brotherhood must remain in the shadows. This causes Ezio and Altaïr to butt heads that Desmond has to referee.

Desmond may or may not be a bastard of a high ranking noble. Who knows? 

If you want Haytham to stand against them, may I suggest… Haytham being the lord of House Birch. The rumors are he’s adopted and not a true Birch but no one would say that to his face. Shay is his knight. 

The other Assassins like Arno, Evie and Jacob? Uuummm… orphan children that Desmond sorta kinda adopted while Ratonhnhaké:ton was picking up a half-feral child and Altaïr was busy arguing with Ezio?

They all end up being Altaïr's responsibility XD

[stardancerluv]

A Time to Love and to Fight

Chapter Nineteen

Summary: Changes swirl around Enjolras and his girl

Notes/Warnings: 18 & Older, please! PV Sex, lots angst, un-aliving /shooting someone mention, I re-wrote this 3 times! (If you want to know the other versions, just ask) I chose to veer a bit from the original story since this storyline/fanfic already has. I felt I still did right by what the character Enjolras would do. (No hate, please!) There are two collages, in the 1st one there is a fan-art version of Lachesis drawn by Amber Southerly. In the second, I used a couple in bed to stand in for that scene…that is a face claim! The dialogue between Enjolras & Govroche is taken from the mini-series!

Thank you, for reading! (It’s a long chapter) Be nice! Feedback is welcome! Want to be tagged, please let me know! ❤️ and of course…Enjoy!

Lachesis - The Greek fate who controlled the thread of life. She has become important to Enjolras & Y/N.

“Mon coeur, mon amour... mon ange.” - My heart, my love, my angel.

“Mon ange peut goûter le bonheur qu'est un baiser de toi?” - “My angel can taste the happiness that is a kiss from you?”

There are at 9 more chapters!

Your eyes were fierce as you turned, strode right over to him. “You shot a man.” The tone of your voice pierced him.

Taking a step back, he pushed the door closed behind him. He did not wish the others to grow curious. He had already faced enough questions, the night you showed up. He knew there would be more.

Rocking forward on his heals he walked up to you. You didn’t move.

“That man took a shot at Marius.”

When you didn’t say a word. He grabbed you chin. A wince washed over your face. He swallowed at the sight of it. He never wanted to cause you harm. With more of a gentle touch, and with no thought of his hand that was wrapped up, he brought your face up as he spoke.

“It was men like that, who dragged you into an alley.” He spat out.

Your lip trembled.

“I’ve seen men like that abuse and kill innocent men and women. He missed Marius the first time he aimed. I wasn’t about to give him a second chance.”

“You’re right, you’re right….” Your words were entangled in your breath. He could see your destress.

He could feel as you inhaled.

“I was just so scared.” It was then he felt as you wrapped your arms around him.

He would never tire of the feel of you. Wrapping his own arms around you, he sighed, holding you very close.

******

He was grateful. You had not run in terror at his brutal act. He was grateful that none of his comrades had not come to disturbed the two of you.

In that small room, against a bureau he leaned. You were cradled between his legs, your head resting on his chest. With his good hand, he gently ran a hand soothingly up and down your back. His wounded hand laid on his thigh.

Neither of you spoke. The silence laid like a blanket over the two of you.

“Mon ange, you give a moment?” He did not want to part from you. Right now all felt right. But he had made his mind up, he had to act on his decision.

“Only if you finally tell me what happened?” Your lovely hands were gentle as they lightly grazed the scarf that was wound tightly around his hand.

He pressed his lips together and nodded. “There was a scuffle during the funeral. At one point a solider tried to cut me down with his sword.”

“Oh, Enjolras my love.” You gently cupped his hand.

He nodded. “He caught the back of it. I am grateful, that I still have it. And I am certain, that only a scar will remain. My hand though in pain still moves like a hand should.”

His heart squeezed at the tenderness you then bestowed upon him. You pressed some gentle kisses here and there.

Quietly as he felt your soft kisses, he thanked Lachesis, for the gift that was you.

“Now, my ange I really must have my moment. Will you give it to me?”

A shadow of a smile fluttered on your face as you looked up at him. “Yes, of course.”

*****

Grabbing a small knife, he went to where he had seen the thread earlier. Relief filled him when he realized, he did not have to slice the pieces he found.

“As I twine this thread I wish for us to be together.” Enjolras wished silently in his heart. These feelings were new to him.

He had never been terribly sentimental. Half the time when he had heard or saw Marius being so lovesick, he had found it foolish. That all changed the rainy night you came stumbling into his life. After that mere walk in the rain something changed in him.

Walking back to you, he twined and tied and twisted the scarlet thread. He managed to make a delicate ring, easily he then made a small knot. The knot resembled a small blossom. He was pleased, his fingers remembered how to make such a small memento out of thread. He slipped the small ring into his pocket.

Opening the door, a smile played on this lips as he watched you fidget with your gloves. There were a few things he had come to observe in you, this one he found to be very endearing.

In a few strides, he was by your side. As you turned, smiling he knew what he was doing was right. Sinking down on his left knee, gently he cupped your hand with both of his.

“Enjolras?”

He smiled softly up at you. “Mon age, before you came stumbling into my life the matters of the heart I left for others.”

He swallowed, his heart once again thudded hard in his chest.

“I had always believed love was a foolish folly. I was and am no fool.”

Your smile was as strong as the sun on a summer’s day. Gently, he squeezed your hand.

“As we grew familiar, intimate I realized that you were the one my heart had been waiting for.”

“Enjolras, what ?”

He could feel as you trembled, your eyes twinkled. He caress the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Mon amour, years ago I pledged my body, my intellect for the betterment of France. As I am here before you, I wish to give you my love, my heart.”

“Oh Enjolras, I accept. Yes! Yes!”

He leapt up and pulling you close, he held you to him. Nothing felt so right as it did just then. With a sigh, he inhaled deeply of the sweet scent, that was uniquely yours. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I have a small token to seal this gift, love.”

You blinked. “You do?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Easily, he took your left hand. First, he pressed a kiss just above where the end of the glove sat. “Let us remove this. Yes?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He took a step so that he could place the ring he had twined more easily upon your finger. Once he had pulled the glove from you, he pressed another kiss this time to your knuckles. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he grabbed the ring.

“It is terribly humble.”

He whispered, then with the outmost care he slipped the scarlet ring onto your finger. Easily, placing it so the small flower sat on top.

“Though just as Lachesis drew our threads together, her thread allowed me to give you this symbol of my love.”

“Oh Enjolras, I love it.” And once again you were in his arms.

******

“Today we will remember those among that we lost. They were will always be remembered. In our hearts there will be men like Father Mabeuf, or ladies like Mademoiselle Eponine.” He cleared his throat. “But we will almost celebrate life and new beginnings.”

You smiled from where you stood. You were head to toe in a dark cloak.

“And we must remember, that last night we were able to push back the Royal army. We can and will do this again.”

Cheers rung through the warehouse.

*****

Quietly, he eyed his hands. They always trembled before a fencing match. Those days felt like they barely existed. They were like out of a dream. Now, they trembled.

Grantaire and Courfeyrac stood on either side of him while he waited for you. Hearing the muffled sounds from the warehouse, glancing in that direction a smile blossomed on his lips.

You were as lovely as a summer’s day. The dress you chose was lovely and delicate. Very much like you. Though, he was learning with how you handled the guards and then last night you were far stronger then he would have ever guessed. You were certainly the person, he was relieved that he would get to live the rest of his days with.

As you drew closer, for a moment he shut his eyes and inhaled. In his heart, he gave a moment to Lachesis. He gave her his sincere gratitude to experience this type of love. Exhaling, he opened his eyes and his heart leapt. You were beside him.

“Hello angel.” He whispered.

He offered you his hand. You took it and together you both faced, the gentlemen who would be marrying two of you.

********

Inwardly, you trembled and tried desperately to not cry as your mana slipped the buttons on the back of your dress. With great excitement, you spoke of peace that you could only wish would fall over the city. Your passionate words had been enough you convince your mama and Greta to allow you to enjoy a day at the park.

Once she slipped the final hook through the eyelet, impulsively you turned and hugged your mama.

“Oh mama.” You cried. Her frame was fragile. It had always been warm and soft while your father was alive. She was a wisp of the woman she had once been.

She gave you a squeeze. “My dear daughter, I am better. You no longer have to fret over me.” You nodded.

If life, if times were different Enjolras would have courted you. She would have found him dashing and intelligent like father. Father and him would have shared glasses of wine while debating life and the books that filled his library.

Instead, you were getting married in a warehouse Enjolras and his comrades had taken over. There would be no grand ceremony or celebration. You would have loved for your mama to know you were now a woman.

You pulled back and nodded, “I know mama. That fills me with immense joy.” You hoped she did not see the tears the filled your eyes. The lump that formed in your throat made it hard to breath. “It is just, I missed these simple acts of you helping me to choose a dress.” You smiled.

Enjolras and the men had already pushed off the army, they could do it again. Next time, you would bring him home. Mama, had a right to meet the man who made you realize all those books father had read to you and you had read; truly existed.

You reached behind her and grabbed your book. You held it up.” “I must not forget this.”

*******

Before leaving the house, you grabbed your cloak, its edges danced around your ankles. Simply walking in this dress would cause too much of a stir.

The walk to the warehouse today did not take as long as it had in the past. It gave your heart great comfort.

As you walked in, Enjolras stood apart from everyone. He was on one of the catwalks high above, it creaked under his weight.

Gavoche, came over to you. He smiled at you with a flair that uniquely was his, held out to you a small bouquet of little blue and white flowers.

“Gavoche!” You held a suprised hand to your mouth. It was lovely.

“Monsieur Enjolras gave me a mission this morning to find flowers that matched the blue scarf you wore the night we all met you.”

“You remembered?”

He nodded. “I may have wanted you tied up if you were a spy but you were the loveliest lady, I had the pleasure of escorting home.”

You smiled and took the bouquet. “You escort a lot of ladies home?”

He chuckled. “No, you are the only one and you are the loviest, by far.”

“Well, thank you so much.”

“You are so welcome, Lady Y/N.” He gave a small bow.

You were about to say how you were not a real lady when a hush came over the room.

It was then Enjolras began to speak. Giving him his your complete attention you smiled up at him. His words stirred a warmth in you, they dried your tears and melted the lump in your throat.

Yes, now they would marry but with their assured victory, you knew you’d be able bring him home to mama. As your eyes met, your heart filled even more with happiness over what the future would hold for the two of you. Lachesis, had been truly kind as she twined the threads of yours and Enjolras’s lives. Bringing a gloved hand over your heart, you thanked her.

*******

You were one of the angels he had seen in works of fine art. Only you were his angel in life. Relief filled him, that with the allowance his mother still sent along to him and with what he out aside, while still managing to hold onto alot for when it would be needed, he had found a small simple silver ring.

He smiled as Courfeyrac opened the small pouch and handed him that silver ring.

Your eyes grew as they met his.

He nodded. “I pledge my heart and love to you, till my last breath.” Then gently as if it had been made for you it slipped into its rightful place on your finger.

“Oh Enjolras,” His heart trembled with his love for you as he heard you speak. “My love. I pledge my heart and love for all of time.”

With hands joined, he turned with you once more to the man performing the ceremony.

“I offer this final blessing. May the air that gives them life and the love that has blossomed in their hearts now beat as one; till old age comes and envelops them in one final embrace.”

Cheers bounced off the walls of the small room. Turning, Enjolras gave his dearest comrades, his dearest friends Courfeyrac, Grantaire and Gavoche; a small smile and a nod. To know they were there at his side, he appreciated. Not a moment too late, Despiat popped his head into add to the sentimental wishes for the two of them.

“Mon coeur, mon amour... mon ange.” He whispered, cupping your cheek he closed the last of the space between the two of you. And inhaling deeply, his lips met yours in the first kiss as man and wife.

*******

Holding the skirt of your dress and your other arm around Enjolras. Together you both twirled, smiled and chuckled to the instruments and uproariously singing that filled the room. Spirits were high. Everyone was happy. Toasts were made, tankards clanked and candlelight flickered and twinkled.

*******

Earlier, while everyone feasted on what Despiat had made for the two of you and the others that evening from the kitchen of his pub. Laying on some crates, boards that had been carried and food and drink laid on them. Seeing a scout, slipped in from the shadows that lingered in alleys or corners between buildings he parted from you only this once to speak with him. You had tried to rise from one of the few chairs that had not been used to reinforce the barricade but had assured to remain and continue to enjoy the food and drink.

“Are you absolutely sure of this?”

The man dabbed his face with his handkerchief. He nodded swallowing. “They are hoping that by striking late tomorrow night, you will have grown complacent with your minor victory. Hopefully drunk on or even they dare hope in a deep slumber.”

Enjolras, paced. “They were will be certainly be surprised.” He smirked. He went over to the man, tell Despiat you may have whatever you wish. Please eat well. We will all need our strength.”

Now, he knew they would surely win once again. He could taste their victory. He strode out and on he again joined in the festivities of the evening. Sitting beside you, he smiled. All was as it should be in his life.

You reached out and touched his arm. He laid a hand over yours. “Alright is right with the moon and stars, my love.” He assured you.

******

Whispering to Courfeyrac and Grantaire, he had them make sure the windows and doors were fastened for he did not wish anything to escape. Once they were done, he stood and touch wobbly with his elation over the victory that was within his grasp, he stood on a chair.

He glanced down at you. He took a breath.

“Gentlemen, ladies word has come. By this time tomorrow, perhaps even later the army has planned their attack.”

Gasps filled the air.

“Do not let worry plague you. We know their plans. We can prepare and be ready. So drink, be merry but rest and we shall get ready to finish them!”

Cheers and clanking of tankards filled the room.

******

You placed your flowers on the table. Your fingers trembled so much that it took longer then usual to unfasten your cloak but you did and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall. Nervousness, coursed through you. “Is it wrong that I’m nervous?”

Enjolras paused before lighting one of the candles. He shook his head. “No, angel it’s not.” He lit the candle and lit the remaining few before he came over to you.

He came over to you and easily he pulled you close. “Forgive me, for in all the revelry I did not take a moment to tell you how beautiful you were today.”

You flushed, you glanced between the two of you before meeting his warm eyes. “Your eyes told me.”

A soft pleased sound came from him. “I am glad.”

You sighed closing your eyes as be cupped your cheek. “Mon ange peut goûter le bonheur qu'est un baiser de toi?”

Your eyes fluttered opened. “Yes, my love. My sweet husband.” You flushed.

“Oh I had never wanted to hear those words and yet, from you they are more lovely then the song of a bird.”

Your eyes met then and just as you took a breath, you felt the softness of his lips. The scruff of his goatee was comforting. Your arms wrapped around him, his followed. He was so solid, warm and safe.

*******

Gently, he lowered himself half on half off of you. “My dear wife.” You flushed with the kisses and caresses. But he was always be the honorable man you loved. He gently traced the line of your cheek. “I am aware that it is know it is tradition, for us to become one tonight. It allows our hearts to beat together to fulfill our bond of marriage and love. But with the excitement of the day, if you wish to wait and become one another night I can stop now. I am will never become a brut.”

You turned and his kissed his open palm. “No my love, I long to feel you.”

*******

Easing himself up from the bed, he paused as he stood beside. “You are so lovely.” He whispered.

In the flickering candlelight he could see a flush dust your cheeks. “Angel, you will have to grow accustomed to my compliant or I fear you will always be blushing.” He smiled.

“Maybe one day, right now I like the idea of being your blushing bride always.”

“Shall I Enjolras? Shall I shed chemise?”

He nodded. “Please. And I shall shed these.” Then carefully, since his hand still ached terribly he removed his breeches.

“You steal my breath, Enjolras.” Your soft voice reached his ears and his heart sped up.

“It is only fair since looking at you do the same to me.”

Bracing himself on the bed, he settled between your legs. “You have enraptured my heart.” Something, he never thought would happen or allow to happen. But you were special.

A soft sound came from him as he wrapped his hand around himself. He was incredibly aroused. The sight of you as the candlelight poured over your curves was almost too much for him.

Gently, he slipped his among your silken folds. They reminded him of roses that grew at his university. On the early mornings the petals would be kissed with dew. A soft moan that came you made his stomach tighten.

“You moans will undo me, angel.”

Biting inside of his cheek, he gently slid into you. Then his own moan filled his room.

Moving just so, he held you close. With his heart thudding hard, his lips grazed yours. “Pardon me angel, but I must tell you. I will always be grateful you came stumbling in that rainy night.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek. “It is the day, I truly started to live.”

A twist of pleasurable pain filled him; for there was part of him that felt the same. He kissed your palm, before he was able to find his rhythm and began sliding in and out of your warmth.

You both moved. No words were needed, just the sounds of pleasure from the two of twirled and mingled between the two of you. Your hearts echoed each other. Everything was exquisite.

Both of you burned as the passion grew. His curls became unruly as sweat blossomed on his scalp. Your strands, clung to your face they were as wild as a stallion’s mane. He drew closer and your lips met and the kisses matched the passion already between the two of you.

******

You took his hand and placed it over your heart, it thudded hard in your chest. “I will never allow my love for you to wane.”

“It never will, for till my dying day I will love you.”

He moved his hand up in gentle caress before he was able to cup your cheek. It felt as if the two of you sealed your words with a kiss.

*******

Fright gripped you and you woke. You could not understand the fear, no night terror had struck you but it had taken a hold of your heart.

You sat there in the darkness. A tear escaped one of your eyes and slid down you cheek. You pressed against your heart hoping to snuff out the fear, the pain.

“Angel?” Enjolras’s voice was thick from slumber. “What plagues you?”

“I don’t know.” You wept.

“Come let me hold you till the dawn.”

His arms were warm and strong as he held you. It was only then did you feel your anguish, begin to diminish.

******

“As the sun rises, we prepare. Will dispatch each royal solider. They taste our bravery and feel fear. They will quake in their shiny boots.” One of the platforms on the barricade, Enjolras spoke. His voice was rich with dedication.

Cheers erupted from those that gathered.

“Now let us prepare for what will be coming at sundown. We will not stop till the last gaps are filled and the barricades are secure. All of our bullets will be so made and rationed between all of us. And arm yourself with a blade. We will fight to the last of them.”

Once again the cheers erupted. Encouraging slaps on the back were given and fists shot skyward.

“Now go and prepare!”

You felt at a loss of what to do. You helped where you could. You brought cloths where the guns and pistols were being cleaned. With the aid of one of the other ladies, you secured pieces of furniture and whatever else you could get your hands on. All of if made the barricades stronger. A quiet seriousness fell over everyone. There were only murmurs of greetings. Eyes met silently.

Gavroche’s footfalls and the shortness of this breath, sounded louder. Seeing him you realized it was the first you had seen him since waking; that was a few hours now. You noticed others looked over or even glanced in his direction, but not really spoke aloud.

You watched as him and Enjolras disappeared into one of the smaller rooms. A knot formed in your stomach.

You felt as if a shadow that you could not run away from fell over you.

*******

Enjolras, patted Gavoche reassuringly on the back as he walked along side him into the small room. The young man was pale. And out of breath. This worried him.

“Son, what did you see?” He turned and faced him.

He chewed his bottom lip before he spoke. “It’s all over, comrade.” He swallowed. “Hundreds of soldiers are getting ready to attack.” When his eyes finally met his, they were watery. “And most of the barricades have been destroyed.”

He knew this day would come. He had been preparing for it. He would fight to the death. But you, you he worried about.

“Are you alright?” He was warmed once again by his bravery. He was a good kid.

“Me?” An easy smiled played on his face, though his eyes spoken of readying himself, Enjolras assumed. “Never better.”

“Go grab a scrap of the bread and cheese. Don’t breath a word of this. Let me address everyone.”

He nodded. “Of course.” He ran out.

Enjolras felt as if the air was stolen from him. Your terror had been prophetic. He would not let you die here. He would not make you watch if he were to die either.

“Enjolras?” Your voice floated through the air like a bird’s song. It ripped at him.

He would not let his anguish consume him.

@aftertheglitterfades @corrodedcoffn @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56 @pl1nfa1 @phantomxoxo @ladybug0095 @the-iridescent-phoenix @maryan028 @netusha @kindablackenedsuperhero @amethyst-serenade @crazyworldofsiani @moondev1l @eddiethebloodiedhand @lluviamg06 @samunson83 @craftyhufflepuff @julieteagk @little-wormwood @gretavankleep37

[cto10121]

Wilkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome: Tag Masterpost

Cto10121 is finally doing a personalized tag masterpost!!! It’s about damn time. Anyhoo, hopefully this will make it easier to find most everything of interest in my blog.

Me, Myself, and I

Cristina Reviews: General tag for my reviews of books, movies, musicals, and TV shows.

Cristina Reads: General tag for books with text, quotes, and screenshots.

Cristina Opines: My cold takes.

Cristina Has An Unpopular Opinion: My hot takes.

Cristina Is Silly: Technically I have a sense of humor.

Cristina Memes: Badly, but she does.

Cristina Metas: General tag for my nerdy griping.

Icon Fun: I had tons with those icon memes of yore.

Ask/Reply

I Come Anon: For anonymous asks.

Books & Literature

Cristina Is An English Major: Main tag.

Popular Fandoms

Twilight Meta: Meta on Twilight.

Anti Anti Twilight: This is a pro-romance blog above all, but honestly it doesn’t deserve it.

Twilight Clownery: Tumblr’s hatred of Twilight has much to do with hate, but more with love clownery.

SAB Meta: Very critical meta on Bardugo’s Shadow and Bone. See also: Anti Malina, Mal Me Cae Muy Mal

Darling Dorkling Darkling Done Dirty: I originated this tag and don’t you lot forget it! Defense of The Darkling from Bardugo’s Shadow and Bone.

HP Clown Takes: Harry Potter clownery is real and so I eat it.

Shakespeare

R&J Meta/RJ Meta: Meta on Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. The Struggle Is Real for both Shakespeare and Presgurvic meta. I also did a read-through on Arthur Brooke’s version.

R&J Clown Takes: It’s a whole series by this point. See also: RJ Clown Takes, RJ Clownery, R&J Clownery.

Romeo Hate Dumb: So much material that I literally had to create my own tag for it. Thanks for nothing, world.

Hamlet Meta: Meta on Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

Hamlet Clownery: I foresee this will be a thing.

Shakespeare Meta: Meta on Shakespeare’s plays in general.

Shakespeare Clownery: Might as well create this tag because I know I’m going to need it.

Life of Will: Meta on Shakespeare himself and his life.

Musicals

Romeo et Juliette: General tag for Presgurvic’s musical. Also Roméo et Juliette.

RetJ Meta: I like to talk about this musical way too goddamn much.

RetJ World Domination: The whole purpose of this blog by this point.

Original French RetJ

Revival RetJ

Takarazuka RetJ

Hungarian RetJ

That Production That Must Not Be Named: You lot know exactly what I mean.

Idaho RetJ: This exists.

Notre Dame de Paris: General tag for the Plamondon/Cocciante musical.

Elisabeth: General tag for the Kunze/Lévay musical. Also with the das.

Rebecca: General tag for the Kunze/Lévay musical. Also with the das.

My Writing

That’s kind of my main thing. I still have my AO3 and Fanfiction.Net accounts, as well as a sister blog here, technically.

Lyrics and Translations

The agonies of a certain English translation of RetJ has driven me to a life of crime lyric writing, beginning with RetJ. I also uploaded whole scripts to my lyrics website; those are more or less the latest versions.

My Lyrics: My general tag for all my translations, including pop and world music.

RetJ English: English lyrics for Presgurvic’s Roméo et Juliette, de la Haine à l’Amour.

Notre Dame de Paris English: English lyrics for Cocciante’s and Plamondon’s Notre Dame de Paris.

Elisabeth English: English lyrics for Kunze and Lévay’s Elisabeth.

Starmania English: English lyrics for Plamondon and Berger’s Starmania.

Tanz der Vampire English: English lyrics for Kunze and Steinman’s Tanz der Vampire.

[caelavi]

three songs for each muse, cut for length

dom

revived, derivakat

i'm alive, i'm revived, i survived / you surprised? gonna cry about it? / you should see the other guy / i've returned and i've waited my turn / a decade of time to make everything mine / am i the bad guy? / i'll be the bad guy again / just like last time / and we all know how that ends / no one came to help / so i'll help myself instead

rose, a perfect circle

in the headlight / locked down and terrified / your deer in the headlights / shot down and horrified / when push comes to pull comes to shove / comes to step around this self-destructive dance / that never would've ended 'til i rose / i roared aloud here / i will, i am / i am, i will / so no longer will i lay down / lay dead, play this / kneel down, gun-shy martyr, pitiful / i rose, i roared, i will, i am

touch, lights fade low

no one will stain you / no one will pain you / i'll keep you clean until my end / no one will hurt you / the way that i hurt you / nothing will feel the same again

bonus song tag originates from: mr. capgras encounters a secondhand vanity: tulpamancer’s prosopagnosia/pareidolia (as direct result of trauma to the fusiform gyrus), will wood and the tapeworms

you're trying to replace yourself / … / levitating off the ground / is another man wearing your face / all the other false identities / remedies or enemies to mitigate your memories / shuddered at what they found / when they stripped away the grace

nat

take me away, globus

take me away upon a plateau / far, far away from fears and shadow / strengthen my heart in times of sorrow / light the way to bright tomorrows

get a hold of yourself, sugar jesus

if you see me fall, i will get up again / i'll make you a promise that this is not the end / just like i said, get a hold of yourself / you've got to trust me, just get a hold of yourself

let the bridges burn, killswitch engage

i must refuse to renounce my integrity / we stand in defiance to their ethics / let the grief they have inflicted serve as our call to arms / are you ready? are you willing to be the catalyst?

bonus song tag originates from: atone and bloom, auvic

appear before me, silent plume / to come a time where i can bloom / … /  look, justice bless my soul, your subtle art / oh, take a look at me (pray, when i shed my tear) / oath keep my spirit free (say the words i need to hear) / may i muse along the way?

tartaglia

anti-hero, sekai no owari

i'm gonna be the anti-hero / feared and hated by everybody / i'm gonna be the anti-hero / so i can save you when the time comes

not human, elegant slims

into the blackness / your heart is darkness / here comes the madness / you're not human anymore / you're not human anymore / cracking the seams, you're breaking through / the animal inside of you / not human anymore / you're not human anymore / your eyes go black, electric blue / the animal inside of you

work song, hozier

my baby never fret none / about what my hands and my body done / if the lord don't forgive me / i'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

bonus song tag originates from: nothing personal, des rocs

reaching for a book of matches / strike a light and you'll see the real mess that i am / i swear it's nothing personal

[thechthonicherbalist]

Obey to the system - They wanna hold on your mind! Your mind is the land to invade. Your mind is the land to detain. Selling the truth is their business that we buy. Void and disorder - Disobey!

From my "Public Disobedience", "Brat", "Cyber Goth" & "2017 Trump Failureship" and a bunch of other playlists.

Can't you tell me it's ok? I'll hold on another day. Sanity a breath away. Blinded disorder, Paranoid torture, Tie me to the stake. The pyre, The liars Set the world on fire. The pyre Blaze higher But I won't burn.

From my "Nicolas de Lenfent", "Magnus HC" and "Grieving for Wildflowers" playlists.

Hiding from the light, Sacrificing nothing. Still you call on me for entrance to the shrine. Hammering the nails Into a sacred coffin,You call on me for powers clandestine. Are you on the square? Are you on the level? Are you ready to swear right here, right now Before the devil?

It's played with a Cello, but it's still on my Nicolas de Lenfent Playlist. 😂

They dance through the flames and they′re falling so proud to die. Hand in hand they dance on the crimson ground so glad to dance. Shadow dance. On the skyline. Shadow dance. By the twilight. Enclosing their savage hands that hold me. It holds me, this dancing, it holds me holds me. Shadow dance.

From my Classic Goth and so many other playlists.

There will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord There will come a poet whose weapon is His word He will slay you with his tongue, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn Smeared with oil like David′s boy, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord

From my "Apollo", "Aphrodite" and "Grieving for Wildflowers" playlists.

Midnight run, Feel alive, feel my blood Rushing through my big dumb heart It takes work, it takes a lot, But I keep singing: La-da-da, da-da-di Yesterday is dead to me - I feel the ground beneath my feet I say, ooh, don't go killing all my roses 'Cause I've only started growing Ooh, don't go rain on my parade I'm just tryna have a good, good day I dig my roots into the ground. No, you won't ever cut me down.

From my "Wildflowers and Grief" and "Lestat" playlists.

If you're looking for me baby You know you can find me Following the sun. Somewhere running up my heartbeat I don't look behind me, Following the sun.

From my "Apollo" and "Grieving for Wildflowers" playlists.

Living today without a way to understand the weight of the world Faded and torn, old and forlorn my weak and hoping heart For the heart I once had For the child forever dead The music flows because it longs For the heart I once had Time will not heal a dead boy's scars

From one of my favourite bands & my "PTSD" and "Grieving for Wildflowers" playlists.

You're so vain - You probably think this song is about you. Don't you? Don't you?

From my "Grieving for Wildflowers" playlist.

"I've been afraid of the outside. I am so safe here alone. Life has become my own cell now." - Before I leave I just want you to know: Do you wish to be invincible? Do you wish to rule the world? Long before you even think of this You must learn to rule yourself.

From my "Grieving for Wildflowers", "PTSD", "Magnus" and "Ares" playlists.

Thank you for tagging me @batterfang <3 I'm tagging @medievalfantasyqueen @jehan-the-necromancer @chthoniclakewitch @yuuuji @angstosaur @lesablesworld @plotmonster @houndedhouse @madtechnomage @unknown-paradise and everyone else who wants to join! Please reblog and share your music and tag 10 more people, sweeties! <3

Shuffle your on repeat playlist, post the first 10 songs and tag 10 people! I didn't shuffle because some songs on that list I listened to once lol. I picked 10 I know I've had on repeat endlessly.

I'm gonna tag @thechthonicherbalist, @gorgonstaringcontest, @deathpoke1qa, @grayve-mistake, @thelibrarybat and anyone else who wants to do this! No pressure to though. ♥

[bakugosbratx]

okay i just need some bakugou smut😩 maybe yandere?

NSFW 18+ Cry for it— Yandere Katsuki Bakugo x Fem! Reader

Warnings: 18+ Content. Yandere, dub-con, abuse, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, degrading, breeding kink, fingering, bdsm, punishment, dacryphilia, etc.

Check out my previous content here

Words: 2.1k

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this yandere smut bb! I had a lot of fun writing it. Thank you for your request. I hope you enjoyed.

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachyquing @miriobaby @milkthistletea @lanarist @quietlegends @bakugous-trauma @gazelle-des-pres @lord-kagewakihitomi @kameiuchiha @cherrykamado @sickchildren @bakugousbrat @vinny-likes-to-play21 @ssplague @ahbeautifulexistence @m779 @milkshoyoo @ebiharachan @fransuki @lil-miminini

The days have felt quite long and drawn out. You are not sure how long it has been since your arms have been chained to the support beam in Katsuki’s basement, but the thought of sunlight hitting your eyes burned.

Your brain is convincing you that you deserve this punishment. You did catch an attitude with him, after all. You even threw a tantrum.

Quite sinful, Y/N.

You heard the slam of the front door, the door leading to the basement where you currently reside shakes in response. If you had any saliva left in your dry mouth, you would remind Katsuki he left you down there. Surely, he must have forgotten. It’s been three days since you have last seen him. He has not checked on you once the whole time, your beating heart becoming hollow in the process.

Prayers have been long gone from your thought process since you have arrived in Katsuki’s captivity. If there was a God, he sure was not listening to your beckon call.

No one was listening to you.

Katsuki’s heavy footsteps approached the door, his shadow covering the little light you are offered in this dark hole. The door flies open with a rattling shake, your eyes being blinded by light you have not seen in days.

“You alive?” Katsuki inquires, stomping his way down the creaky wooden steps. You could not see him since you are using your eyelids to protect your burning irises, but you could feel his intimidating presence around you along with his natural heavy footsteps.

A slap delivered to your cheek releases a gasp from your lips. “Yeah, you’re alive.” Katsuki answers his own question, beginning to free your wrist from the pole.

“Kat,” you attempted to find the strength to finish his name, gazing up at him so weakly, “suki.” He just ignored you, picking up your malnourished body and throwing you over his shoulder. He delivers a not-so gentle slap to your exposed bum.

“I made some food for your ungrateful ass.” Katsuki states, his tone still holding underlying anger to it. There is one thing your captor did best and that was hold grudges.

Setting your naked body down in your assigned chair at the dining table, Katsuki brings the cold water bottle to your lips, snickering at how quickly you digested the cool liquid. You have been without hydration for three days; it’s understandable.

Katsuki sets a bowl of ramen in front of you. The heat of soup engulfed your nostrils, reassuring you can still use your sense of smell. You have grown accustomed to the musty smell the basement possesses that you have become blind to it. Your unbathed body is sure to wear that fragrance until Katsuki bathes you later tonight.

Devouring your ramen, not a single drop is left. Katsuki is kind enough not to comment on your eating habits since you have been kept like a starved dog in his cold, pitch black basement.

Collecting your bowl and utensils, Katsuki drops them off in the sink for him to wash later since you are forbidden from the kitchen. There are too many dangers lurking for you to go in there.

“Ready for your bath?” Katsuki rhetorically asked, arching a brow. You nod, poutfully making grabby hands. He chuckled, his insides bursting with excitement that you are so needy towards him. You are typically like this when he deprived you of his attention and affection.

“C’mere, brat.” He coo’s while picking you up, kissing your tear stained cheek multiple times before proceeding towards the bathroom upstairs. You hated that you missed his calloused touch, his snarky remarks, and unwanted nicknames, but your bare skin is falling into his leather touch, his gruff voice sings calming melodies to your ears, and his nicknames are spoken with love.

Everything he does is out of love towards you, Y/N.

Everything.

Placing you down on the toilet seat lid, the cold porcelain sent chills down your aching spine. You cover your breast with your arms, not wanting the air to make them even more cold than they already are. Katsuki checks the temperature of the bath water with a couple of his long digits, seeing that it is perfect for his love.

Picking you up and putting you into the warm water; the warmth already soothing your cold bare limbs. Katsuki is using a water pale to rain the water over your hair, dampening every inch of skin then cleaning it with the necessary soaps.

There was little to no talking during the process; Katsuki is not one for conversation, anyways. Unless he has a rude comment, working, demanding, or having sexual intercourse; the man can be mute. You secretly craved his voice. You missed it. You have not had any interaction with a human — well Katsuki — for three days. You are not even sure if your voice is still capable of producing sound.

Gulping, you wait for all the soap to be rinsed from your body, leaving you smelling the way Katsuki desires you to smell. “I,” you paused, meeting his crimson orbs, “I missed you.”

Katsuki did not know how to process your words. You have never said them before. This is the fourth month he has held you captive and not once have you shown any sign of desire for his presence. Your eyes always screamed fear and pure hatred, but this time, they spelt loneliness and longing.

Longing for Katsuki.

“Yeah?” Katsuki finally grumbles out, collecting water in the cup and raining it over your hair once again.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your tone low and hoarse. Silence fell over you two once more as he finished cleaning the soap off of your body.

“Hey,” Katsuki calls, placing your chin in between his thumb and other fingers, “prove it.”

Your eyebrow arches, unaware of what he meant, but you are quick to figure out once he dries off your body with a large fluffy towel, instructing you to, “lay on the bed.”

“Katsuki—“

“Shh.” Katsuki interrupts, silencing your lips with his own. Katsuki is not one to show affection much. Daily kisses, hugs, and other normal affectionate ways people display their love is not Katsuki’s way. He has been patient when it comes to sex, but that ends tonight.

You intake his kiss, your lips mirroring his actions and becoming magnetic; when you pull away, they attract right back. Your tongues dance with one another, your neediness engulfing every second of attention he is providing to you. His sneaky fingers find their way in between your thighs, rubbing your warm clit with his large calloused pads.

A moan falls into his lips, a smirk appearing on his features in between the kiss. You did not even fight back, you did not want to. His kisses have become intoxicating while his fingers trail to your entrance, entering without permission.

Gasp rolls off your tongue, but only to be swallowed by Katsuki. “You’re so fuckin’ tight.” Katsuki comments, your cunt’s walls hugging his fingers as they curl inside you. “No wonder you always run from my cock.”

“Katsuki.” You whined, his fingers picking up speed inside your cunt; your walls not wanting them to go as they please you.

“What? You’re already bitchin’ off just my fingers? You gotta be kiddin’ me.” Katsuki scoffs, your whimpering eyes only encouraging him to continue. A hand wrapping around your neck, his thumb and index finger resting on your jaw, “aw, look at that pouty little face? So fuckin’ pathetic.” He condescendingly coo’s.

“Katsuki, slow down.” You requested only to get denied, a snicker falling from his smug grin.

“Yet your about to cum all over my fuckin’ fingers.” Katsuki retorts, your walls clenching his digits tightly in fear of releasing them and remaining empty.

You could not even protest, your walls releasing onto his fingers, moans falling from your throat. “And you didn’t even ask for permission? So damn greedy.”

Removing his fingers, he licks the slick off of his fingers, his cock begging to be released from his gray sweat pants that hang low on his hips. Your eyes automatically fall to his dick; your mouth practically foaming. Katsuki grabs your chin so you are forced to meet his orbs.

“You want my cock? Beg for it.” He shrugged.

Katsuki adores it when you beg so pretty for him and you refuse to not follow orders. Falling to your knees, you play with the waistband of his pants, pleading, “please, give me your cock, Katsuki. I want to be useful to you, let me makeup for behaving so poorly.”

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.” Katsuki scoffs, clearly not impressed.

You sighed, your bottom lip quivering at the rejection and tears arising in your orbs. Rejection deeply brings up your insecurities. Katsuki has taught you that rejection from him is the worst and to you, it is.

“Katsuki, please,” you whimpered, “please make use of me. I want to be of value to you. Please.”

Katsuki’s thumbs wiped away your tears, your trembling bottom lip giving him more satisfaction. “So pretty when you cry for my cock.” Katsuki whispers, more for himself than you.

“Ass up and face down on the bed,” he delivers a somewhat tender slap to the face, “now.”

You do just as you were instructed; climbing onto the bed, your face buried into the charcoal colored comforter while your bare ass is in the air for Katsuki’s taking. Delivering a fresh slap to your arse, your squeal is muffled while Katsuki’s erected tip teases your clit.

“Please don’t tease me, Katsuki.” You whined, selfishly wanting more. His hand laces in your hair, pulling your head back so you are close to his face, “listen here and listen good, slut,” delivers a hard slap to your ass, “I call the fuckin’ shots, got it? You are my property and this pussy is fuckin’ mine. So, y’know what that means?” He quizzes through gritted teeth, his fingers dancing on the same spot he just smacked you; not hesitating to do it again.

“You get to do what you want.” You replied, small whimpers releasing while his grip on your hair becomes tighter; a smack to your ass in confirmation.

“That’s right; I get to do whatever the fuck I want to ya and you get to take it like the good little slut you claimed to be.” Katsuki snarls, releasing you from his grip.

Aligning you with his pre-cumming cock, his erection slides into your entrance with ease, your pussy eating every inch into a tight hug from your constricted walls. Your nails dig into the sheets for support, Katsuki’s nails digging into your hips for his.

Another hard smack is brought to your ass. “You got all that mouth on you. I suggest you use it before I stuff that too.” Katsuki warns.

This may be your first time having sexual relations with him, but you should know what is expected of you, Y/N.

Singing Katsuki sweet melodies of moans filled with pleasure filled compliments, Katsuki’s pace picks up, his cock entering in-and-out of your drooling cunt.

“Feels so good, Katsuki.” You purr, the mixture of pain sending you mixed signals about the pleasure.

“Fuck yeah it does. Your tight ass pussy has just been waiting for me to stretch out, hasn't it?” Katsuki mocks with a smirk, not even considering going slow.

You are his property to fuck and take advantage of. It’s best you remember that, Y/N.

“Yes, sir.” You reply, a moan releasing right after.

“Atta girl.” He praises, picking up even more speed; your pussy becoming even more accustomed to his thick cock, each stroke stretching it out more while he is balls deep into you.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum, baby.” Katsuki groans, throwing his head back while the veins in his cock twitch, the head of his member touching your cervix. You did not even get to attempt to protest. This is no longer your body; it’s his.

“I’m going to fill you up to the brim with my cum and make you a pretty little mama, yeah? Have you all big and round carrying my seed.” Katsuki daydreams aloud, getting him closer to meeting his high. “Yeah, you’ll fuckin’ like that wouldn’t you? Breeding you like the bitch in heat that you are.”

“Yes, Katsuki. Fill me up and use me.” You pleaded, his cock already leaking semen into the depths of your cervix.

“That’s exactly what I plan to do, babe.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved — I don’t give anyone permission to repost, distribute, copy or re use my works in any way. 

[hoboal87]

Storm

Title: Storm

Pairings: Dean x F!Reader, mentions of Sam x Eileen

Characters: Dean, F!Reader, minor mentions of Sam and Eileen, unnamed OFCs

Word Count: ±2.1k

Warnings: anxiety, car accident, major injuries, angst, fluff, blink and you’ll miss it pre-smut, post 15x19, more spoilers will be in the tags.

A/N: Requested by a nonnie: ���Hi sweetie, I adore your writing especially dean fics. Can I pleaaase request a flangsty one shot of dean x reader where they get into a car crash and she's the one who's badly injured?? And maybe they are stuck in a snow storm or something so help would take forever to come and dean is just trying to keep her alive? With lots of worried and gentle dean?? But I don't want her to die pleaaase 🥺🥺 thank you so much. And no pressure if you don't want to write it ❤️”

A special shout-out to @deanwinchesterswitch​ for taking time during her #BlogAppreciationBounce to beta this for me! Thanks Kym, you’re the best!

My Full Masterlist

My Dean Masterlist

Tags are open! Tag yourself here!

Have a request? Send me an ask or DM!

You walk through the aisles of the grocery store, pushing the ever-growing cart in front of you. You and Dean had finally moved all of your belongings into your new home, and now you needed to stock it full of food. Dean is like a kid in a candy store, grabbing so many unnecessary items that you can only shake your head and suppress your giggles.

A thunderclap from outside makes you jump slightly; spring in Kansas, a woman just a few feet in front of you notes, you politely smile as she suggests stocking up on bottled water and canned goods. When you were living in the Bunker, severe weather wasn’t even on your radar. It was a fortress, with all sorts of magic protecting it. But now, you and Dean are living in an ordinary, run-of-the-mill house, and Kansas is smack-dab in the middle of tornado alley.

Dean meets you at the checkout counter, two pies in hand, and you give the cashier a small smile. Another thunderclap makes you jump, and Dean immediately wraps his arms around your waist, calming you, reminding you that it’s just a little rain. Thunderstorms had made you anxious ever since your family was attacked by a wendigo when you were a teenager. Every storm dredges up memories of you and your family fighting for your lives as the creature used a storm to hide in the shadows and the sounds of thunder to cover its inhuman screams.

Rain begins to fall as you load bag after bag into the trunk of Baby, empty now that Dean has retired. A large bolt of lightning strikes, brightening up the sky, making the heavy, dark clouds visible for a moment.

As Dean pulls Baby out of the parking lot, rain has begun falling; scattered droplets softly thumping on the roof of the car. You and Dean live away from town, out in the middle of nowhere, your closest neighbors being Sam and Eileen, owning the property next to yours, but their house was still being built, so for the time being, it was only you and Dean for nearly five miles. It didn’t seem like a lot of distance when you first chose the property; in fact, you originally wanted to buy both pieces of land so that you and Dean could have all 10 acres to yourselves.

Dean drives past the Gas n’ Sip, the closest business next to your home, and turns down the road that would eventually lead to your new house. The five-mile distance shouldn’t seem like a lot, but now, as the rainfall becomes heavier, you wished you’d chosen a home closer to town.

The thick, heavy rain makes it almost impossible for you to see anything more than a few feet in front of you. You take a long, calming breath, trying to keep your nerves intact as lightning strikes again in the distance. Dean notices your nerves starting to get the better of you and reaches over to give your knee a reassuring squeeze before bringing the car to a stop.

“You wanna wait out the rain?” He asks, taking your sweaty palm into his own.

“Food’ll spoil,” you counter, trying to cover your growing nerves.

“S'just food, sweetheart,” Dean unbuckles himself and slides closer before reaching over to do the same to you. “We can get more tomorrow.”

Dean wraps his arm around your shoulders as the storm seems to grow even stronger. He places a gentle kiss on your lips and reaches to the back seat, grabbing a blanket to cover you both. Under the worn blanket, Dean’s hand rubs up and down your thigh, inching closer to your covered core. This wouldn’t be the first time that Dean’s tried to get frisky in the Impala; hell, not even the third or fourth but with your anxiety running on high, the last thing you want is to fool around.

You don’t have to say anything, just gently intertwining your fingers with his and he seems to get the message. You curl up against him, basking in his familiar warmth and smell, praying that the storm would soon be over. Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest as the wind howls with enough force to cause the Impala to rock slightly on the road.

After you’ve calmed, Dean suggests heading on home. You nod slightly, wanting nothing more than to crawl into the comfort of your bed. He slides back over before shifting the car into gear and slowly starts accelerating.

Pain. Cold. Wet.

Steam rises from Baby’s engine, and thunder claps again. The last thing you remember is a horn honking and Dean slamming on the brakes before everything went dark. Your body lies limp on the hood of the car, glass shards from the windshield surrounding you.

The Impala’s front end is crushed, and the heat from the engine warms you as you try to piece together what happened. You can hardly focus on anything; there’s another car a few yards away; it must be the one you collided with. You try to move your body, but it’s then you realize that you can’t feel anything below your waist. You groan as you desperately try to move, hoping that you can will yourself onto your feet and find Dean. You can barely make out a low moan through the sound of the rain hitting the metal. You want to turn, but you can't; pain radiates throughout your body, at least the parts you can still feel. You try to call out to Dean, to anyone for help, but you can't find the words to do so. Your brain and mouth aren't connecting, and the only sounds that you manage to make are whimpers of pain.

A figure appears in the rain, cursing as he seems to take in your broken figure; he's almost yelling at what you can only assume is some 911 dispatcher.

"Shit.. one of the passengers…conscious? The driver? I'll try…"

The man appears at your side, and you can still see the phone attached to his ear.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" He asks cautiously, you want to nod, but you're too afraid to move your head, afraid that you could accidentally hurt yourself further. "Her eyes are open; she's breathing," the man relays into the phone. "Uh.. ragged. There's blood… Ma'am? I'll try that. Blink if you can hear me."

You slowly but deliberately blink your eyes. The man breathes out a sigh of relief.

"Y/N!" Dean's voice comes from through the broken windshield. The man hurries away from you and towards Dean. You can only make out the muffled noises as the man tries to convince Dean to stay inside Baby, but you know he won’t; he’s too stubborn to listen to anyone.

The rain begins to let up, and the man tells Dean that an ambulance is on the way. The sound of Dean’s boots on the wet concrete put you at ease, knowing that he’s, at the very least, in better shape than you are. You count the strides that Dean takes before he’s beside you, frowning slightly at the large gash on his forehead. Dean’s eyes rake over your body, and you know something is going on that neither man is telling you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean’s hand gently cups your cheek, and you know that he’s trying to keep his voice steady. “Help’s comin’ baby, okay? You’re gonna be okay, y’hear me?”

You try to mumble a response, but the words still don’t form. The rain is now nothing more than a sprinkle, clouds shifting to reveal the night sky. Numbness has taken over the rest of your body as Dean keeps his eyes focused on you, assuring you over and over again that you're going to be okay. Off in the distance, you can hear a siren, and Dean squeezes your hand tightly as he tells the man to grab two flares from the trunk.

“Help’s almost here, Y/N.”

“De,” you barely manage to mumble out, “’m tired.”

“I know, baby.” Dean looks relieved at the sound of your voice. “Gotta stay awake, Y/N, please. Y’can’t go to sleep, baby, not until help gets here. Promise me you’ll stay awake.”

“Love you,” you murmur as your eyes close, and every breath becomes more difficult to take.

“Y/N, baby, I need you to open your eyes,” Dean begs as the siren grows closer. “Please, honey, just a coupla minutes. Please Y/N, you have to fight for just a little while longer; lemme see those pretty eyes, baby.”

With all the energy you can muster, you slowly open your eyes, focusing on Dean as he breathes out a sigh of relief. His face is wet; whether it's from the rain or fallen tears, you can’t be sure. Dean offers you a pained smile before leaning forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Red and blue lights illuminate the sky, and a handful of overlapping voices fill the air. A paramedic replaces Dean, who refuses to leave your side until a firefighter drags him away. Your vision blurs as the new person begins quickly examining you while another puts a brace around your neck. A team of paramedics turns you over, and slides a board under you before lifting you off the hood of the Impala and putting you onto a stretcher. You can barely register what’s happening around you, and you want to cry out as they load you into the ambulance.

The collar around your neck keeps your head facing up, and you try desperately to look for Dean. Your eyes frantically search from side to side before Dean comes into view. He reaches forward, and you feel the familiar calloused hands rubbing against yours. Voices are flying, asking Dean question after question; is she allergic to any medications? Did she lose consciousness? Any prior existing conditions? Blood type?

Your hearing becomes muffled and your vision becomes tunneled as Dean struggles to answer each question.

“She’s seizing!”

A steadily beeping heart monitor awakens you. There’s a tube down your throat and you’ve seen enough Dr. Sexy to know it’s a breathing tube. You cough as you try to breathe and the heart monitor’s beeping becomes more rapid. A nurse is in the room quickly, telling you to keep calm before calling someone else in to help remove the tube. She orders you to cough again and again until the tube is out.

“D’n?” Your throat sore and raspy from the tube being down your throat for who knows how long. “‘Ere’s D’n?”

“He’s gone home, Y/N,” the nurse, Rebecca, tells you calmly. “Visiting hours ended a while ago. We’ll call him as soon as we get you a work-up.”

“S’okay?” You hate that your brain and mouth aren’t working together, and you can only speak in half-formed words. Rebecca nods, smiling as she takes your vitals and calls for an orderly. “How l’ng out?” You struggle to ask, but she seems to understand your question.

“Six months.”

Hours later, you’ve been poked and prodded by too many doctors to keep count of. Words may take a few days, but you’ll get them back, a neurologist assures you, just keep practicing.

By the time they’ve returned you to your room, Dean is there, eyes glistening as Rebecca wheels you in. You want to stand up to meet him, but your limbs, like the rest of your body, don’t want to cooperate with you. Dean crouches down to meet you, the skin on his forehead slightly red from where you remember seeing the gash. He leans forward and presses a kiss on your lips.

“Missed you, sweetheart.”

Dean and an orderly help you back into bed, and he takes a seat in the chair next to you, taking you by the hand and rubbing the back of your palm gently. A team of doctors explains everything to you and Dean—that you’ll have a long road of recovery, you’ll need physical therapy for your limbs, you’ll most likely need a speech pathologist, but with hard work, you’ll be back to your old self in a matter of time.

“You’re very lucky, Y/N,” one of the many doctors says as the others clear out of your room. You let out a scoff, you’ve been in a coma for six months, and you’re lucky?

“Honestly, I’d call it a miracle,” he remarks before leaving, and for a moment, you swear his eyes flash red.

Feedback is appreciated!!

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 10

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I might post this one shot I’m writing later. I really need to work on my angst but I just can’t bring myself to write it. I just love fluffity fluff Because... it’s fluff, my heart go melt. Also we’re starting to get into the longer chapters now, yAY

"So?" Alya asked. "Can you tell me?"

Marinette nodded. "So um, his name is D-Damian"

————————————————————

Marinette excused herself to go to the bathroom while Alya said she would wait for her by the school's entrance. Marinette already told her about her encounter with Damian and her crush on him too which Alya found to be sweet. Then she noticed Nino and Adrien enter.

"Hey Adrien is it ok if I steal Nino for a few minutes?" She asked.

"Sure go ahead" Adrien answered, amused.

"Thanks" she said while grabbing Nino's arm and dragging him away. "I did it" she whispered to him.

"Did what?"

"I found out who Mari's crush is! But I ain't telling"

"Whaaaat why not?" Nino pouted teasingly.

"I'll tell you when they get together" she kissed him on the cheek "You can go back to Adrien now. See ya!" She went back to the locker room where Marinette was waiting.

"Hey do you wanna join us later?" Marinette asked. "We're just gonna go for a walk around Paris"

"If you want me to" Alya replied with a smug face. 'But I don't want to invade the bubble you two will be in'

~~~

Damian was in his hotel room using a make shift punching bag when the sky became dark. He took down his homemade punching bag and took a look outside. The sky wasn't really the clear but it wasn't that dark either. The clouds became jet-black and shot large bolts of electric lightning. Damian took a step back as he notice a figure floating in the sky, shooting lightning bolts from her parasol. He decided to go into the roof of the hotel to get a better look. He remained in the shadows while watching the girl wreaking havoc. 'Is this what Angel meant?'. He was dumbfounded by how powerful this villain was but then he remembered magic was involved, magic was always powerful. Then the villain floated towards the hotel.

"Where is Chloe Bourgeois!?" The villain shouted, mainly to herself. Then Damian noticed a glowing butterfly mask appear on the akumatized villain. "Yes, Hawkmoth?"

'Hawkmoth...' Damian spat the name in his mouth. He disliked this man, such cowardice for targeting younger ones like he did.

"Don't worry Hawkmoth, they'll be here. I'm too big of a threat to ignore" the girl praised herself and as if it were a word of command, A boy in a black cat suit appeared. 'That must be Chat Noir'

"Back again huh Ice Queen?" The cat-themed superhero teased.

"My name is not Ice Queen! It's Stormy Weather!" She shouted back.

"For an ice queen, you really need to cool down" he fired back. Then the girl used her parasol to conjure a massive gust of wind but Chat Noir dodged it. Then Damian watched as a spotted yo-yo wrapped around Chat Noir and dragged him away. Damian then could've sworn he heard the sound of a flute but he didn't think anything of it when Chat Noir returned, this time with a spotted hero and a fox themed hero. 'Ladybug and...Rena Rouge I suppose'.

Stormy Weather then took a fighting stance only to have her eyes covered with a towel by a figure behind. 'That's....Ladybug but how-' Damian inwardly sighed. 'Magic I suppose'. He watched as the fake Ladybug disappeared while the real Ladybug grabbed the girl's parasol and smash it in half, intrigued to see a purple butterfly, fly out of the umbrella. Damian watched as Ladybug had snatched the butterfly into her yo-yo and then proceeded to 'de-evilise' it, as what Marinette said. He kept observing them. He watched in awe as Ladybug took the spotted towel used the cover Stormy Weather's eyes and threw it in the sky, many magical butterflies emerging and fixing everything that was damaged. From the sky to the nearby buildings. After they defeated the villain, they fist bumped and then Chat Noir took the now normal girl back to where she came from. Then Ladybug took Rena Rouge and they travelled in the opposite direction.

Now thinking it was safe to come out, Damian approached from the dark and went back to his hotel room via stairs. As he locked the door to his hotel room he realised something he had not noticed before, they all had a different specialized weapon. "How could I not have noticed that before?" He muttered to himself. He played through his memories. 'Ladybug has a Yo-yo, The cat had a retractable staff and Rena had...a flute was it?'. He decided to write some of this down in Arabic that way no one would know what it said even if they were to find the note. He dedicated the rest of his time researching the heroes.

~~~

"Alya" Marinette whined. "It's not a date"

"Even if it wasn't, I still gotta make sure you look good" Alya styled her best friends's hair into a bun with a few strands loose on either side of her face. The outfit she chose for Marinette was an ivory turtleneck sweater dress with brown knee-high boots, all MDC originals of course. The thing is, Alya still didn't know that Marinette was MDC. She hadn't told her yet so convincing her best friend that all these clothes were 'thank you gifts' was difficult to say the least. When Marinette looked at herself in the mirror she let out a tiny audible gasp. She looked great if she said so herself. "What did I tell you? You're best friend knows what looks good on you" Alya said proudly while patting herself on the back.

"Yeah, you did great" Marinette giggled. "Now come on let's go!" She grabbed her best friend's arm and dragged her to where they agreed to meet Damian.

Alya wasn't sure what she was expecting but it definitely wasn't what she saw. In the distance she saw a tall, muscular and handsome man. She wasn't attracted to him, in fact, the neutral scowl on his face was enough to send fear up her spine. Alya wasn't sure if this man was safe to be around, or if it was even Damian for that matter but the bright sparkle in Marinette's eye when spotting him confirmed that this was indeed Damian. Alya watched astounded as the once threatening scowl on his face turned into a naturally soft smile the moment his eyes spotted her best friend. 'This guy is totally in love with Mari. And I'm here for it'

When Damian noticed Marinette with a girl, 'Césaire probably', he smiled and walked up to them. "Hello Angel, nice to see you" he said in French. He turned to the other girl "Damian , nice to meet you" he said again in French while holding his hand out for a handshake.

"Alya, Alya Césaire" Marinette's best friend said while returning the handshake.

Marinette's eyes were bright when Alya and Damian had introduced themselves "So now that we're here, what should we do?"

"Didn't you say that you needed fabric for your designs?" Alya asked.

"Yeah b-"

"In that case we should go shop for the fabric needed" Damian replied.

"That's nice of you guys but we don't have too-"

"Come one I know a few shops!" Alya grabbed Marinette's hand and dragged her to the fabric shops in the area with great reviews without allowing her to protest. Damian tagged right behind, smiling at the two best friend's interaction. Alya then took the time to whisper into her best friend's ear. "He called you Angel" she said with smirk on her face.

"I-it's just a nickname" Marinette stuttered as she felt her face become hot. Alya playfully rolled her eyes while leading the bluenette to one of the best fabric shops in Paris with Damian in tow.

In the end they bought Marinette three different rolls of fabric. Damian was the one who paid, though it took a long time arguing before Marinette finally backed down. She was the one who wanted to pay but Damian kept insisting he should pay. He had also offered to carry all the rolls of fabric, not that he needed to ask because he carried them anyway, ignoring Alya and Marinette's protests. Soon they arrived at her parents' bakery and they met a surprised Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, they were mostly surprised at the boy who could carry three rolls of fabric single-handedly and look as if he could carry more. They watched, amused, as their daughter and this boy argued back and forth. Marinette saying that she could carry the rolls of fabric to her room by herself and the boy saying that he could carry it by himself. The argument didn't even last a minute before they came to a conclusion; Marinette would take one of the rolls while the boy would bring the other two. When they both left to go to Marinette's room, Alya answered a question that was in both the parents' head.

"His name is Damian" Alya said. "Marinette says he's an exchange student from the US"

"The US?" Tom said confused. "I thought he could've been from Bordeaux, there wasn't a hint of an accent'

"He must have been studying French for a long time" Sabine said, quite impressed.

Alya nodded. "Marinette's known him for a while, I just met him today and he's very smart"

Then both Marinette and Damian came downstairs. "Maman, Papa I'm going with Alya to make sure she gets hom-"

"I can go by myself it's fine" Alya interrupted. 'You and Damian need some time alone!' She inwardly smirked.

"Then I'll make sure Damian goes home" Marinette said without hesitation. They both said their goodbyes and walked out, leaving Alya and Marinette's parents.

"He's good husband material" Sabine said the moment her daughter and the boy left. Both Alya and Tom chuckled while nodding. Then when Alya turned to leave, Sabine and Tom went back to decorating some cupcakes.

~~~

Adrien kept looking through all the fan-mail he got, it was a lot but he wanted to read each and every one of them so that his fans knew he cared. But there was still something at the back of his mind, something nagging him. It was about when Plagg went to talk with Tikki about what he described as 'Kwami Business'. Adrien knew it was private conversations between kwamis but he could help but be curious as when Plagg had asked for permission to go, he was much more serious than he probably has been his entire life. "Plagg"

"Yeah Adrien?" The kwami replied, biting his aged Camembert.

"The day you went to talk with Tikki, what did you have to talk about?" Adrien watched as Plagg stiffened. Surprisingly, he put his cheese aside. 'Uh oh, this must be serious'

Plagg sighed, "It about the side effects of the miraculous"

"Side effects?" Now he was getting worried.

"The side effects only a true miraculous holder could get" Plagg mumbled hesitantly.

��——

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmoma, @starlitdreaming, @icerosecrystal, @lolieg

[bunnimew]

5 Times Pitch Used Terrible Pick Up Lines and the 1 Time It Kinda Worked

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Pairing: Jack Frost/Pitch Black Tags: Fluff, Crack, Pick Up Lines, Post-Movie, 5+1, rating for themes, Pitch Black is a ridiculous man, Jack Frost you little shit Rating: T Words: 1884 Summary: Does what it says on the tin.

For RotG Bingo 2021: Terrible Pick-Up Lines On AO3 Here.

1

Jack hadn’t seen Pitch since the nightmares dragged him away.

The image was never far from his mind. The panic, the despair. And the children were so carefree now that Jack began to wonder if the Boogeyman would ever return.

Which is what made it such a shock when he finally heard that voice again, that silky smooth tone Jack thought locked away in his past, out of the literal darkness.

“If you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

Jack gripped his staff on instinct and spun to face his opponent before he realized that wasn’t an insult at all.

That was a pick-up line.

Pitch Black had just laid a pick-up line on Jack. Frost. One of the Guardians.

What.

The shock was so complete that all the fight melted out of Jack and left him reeling in confusion. Pitch’s lines were meant to sting, right? They weren’t supposed to be–

“Did you just call me fine?” Jack had to ask. Just to make sure.

Pitch’s expression remained smooth and suave, but his body, what little of it was solid, began to waiver and… was the Nightmare King fidgeting?

“Of course, Jack,” he said. “Surely you know how appealing you are?”

Jack nodded. He did. He definitely did. “Surely you know how weird it is that you said it?”

Pitch tilted his chin up, straightening his spine and assuming a very carefully composed stance. He looked uncomfortable as fuck. “It’s not that strange, Jack. If you’ll recall, it’s not the first… offer I’ve made you.”

That was a fair point, and Jack almost gave it to him. “Taking over the world and taking me to bed aren’t exactly the same thing, Pitch.”

His eyes widened in feigned surprise. Pitch leaned forward just enough to make Jack feel his height, and then he said, “Aren’t they, though?”

He vanished into the dark before Jack could come up with a good reply.

2

“Kiss me if I'm wrong. But dinosaurs still exist, right?”

This time, Jack was less surprised. Surprised, yes, but Jack didn’t jump into a defensive stance or anything, which was good for his sense of pride.

Instead, he thought about what Pitch actually said. Dinosaurs did not exist, and that was one of the saddest facts Jack knew. “These are supposed to be Pick-Ups, not Put-Downs. What are you doing?”

Pitch didn’t miss a beat. He turned his head coyly to the side and made himself look very unassuming. “You know, I’m actually terrible at flirting. How about you try to pick me up instead?”

That was… a pretty good line, if Jack were honest. Unfortunately, fraternizing with the enemy was frowned upon in most establishments, and also Jack was not going to reward the Boogeyman for bad behavior. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Are you sure?” Pitch looked up, all innocence. “Maybe you should check again.”

Jack snorted a laugh. He knew Pitch was witty and all, but somehow the Guardian had thought it limited to nasty insults and setting traps. Speaking of…

He looked right into Pitch’s eyes when he said. “You’re wrong, but I’m not kissing you.”

Pitch’s lips twisted, but it looked more playful than aggrieved. “Well you’re no fun.”

3

Jack skated to the edge of the lake, the one he liked to think of as home, and tipped joyously over into the soft snowbank to rest. Figure eights were a lot of fun, but figure skating was a lot of work.

“We’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair.”

Jack almost jumped right back out into the lake and through the ice. Instead, he used his unwillfully gained momentum to turn and smack Pitch’s shoulder for scaring him. That was no way to woo a man.

“Antarctica hit you hard, didn’t it?” he accused.

Pitch did look off-put by that, but he didn’t leave so Jack figured he was over it enough. It was only fair, too, considering the whole Antarctica thing was largely Pitch’s doing.

Jack brushed off the snowflakes he’d thrown all over himself in his panic and settled down into the bank the way he’d meant to before Pitch so rudely interrupted. “You know, you’d get further if you stopped sneaking up on people.”

Pitch looked even more offended by that. “I am the Boogeyman!”

“Yeah, so?”

Pitch tossed his head. Dramatically. Jack hid his grin. “Sneaking up on people is what I do.”

“Sneaking up on targets is what you do,” Jack corrected mildly. He stuffed one arm under his head and made sure to have a good angle on Pitch’s face for what he said next. “Sneaking up on a pull is how you go to bed lonely.”

Pitch drew back in shock, and Jack loved to see it. His eyes were wide and everything.

Jack raised his eyebrows and said, “That is what you’re trying to do, isn’t it?”

Pitch sputtered. It was hilarious. He recovered quickly, and that was fun, too. “And who are you to give me dating advice?”

Jack shrugged. “Just the guy you’re trying to date.”

Pitch walked right into that one, and he clearly knew it by the way he kept his mouth shut and looked at everything that wasn’t Jack. Finally, he licked his lips and said, “Yes, well…”

“Well?” Jack prompted. He would have sworn Pitch’s high cheekbones were looking darker than usual.

“Have a nice night,” Pitch said in a rush of breath and vanished into the shadows from whence he came.

Jack grinned. He didn’t care if Pitch was actually still there and could see. “Oh, I’m sure I will.”

4

If Jack was the kind of person to compliment his arch nemesis, he would give him props for materializing slowly this time. Was Pitch trying to learn?

All the same, the Nightmare King stopped Jack in his tracks by blocking his way with a long gray arm and a beautiful purple rose.

“I just wanted to show this rose how beautiful you are.”

Gorgeous as the rose was, that line was transparent as hell. Jack dropped his shoulders and stared at Pitch, hoping his expression was as lame as that line.

To his credit, Pitch held his ground. His face was the picture of innocent interest, maybe even with a dash of hope.

As they watched each other, waiting to see who blinked first, Pitch’s arms slowly lifted to place the rose, de-thorned thankfully, over Jack’s ear.

...Well played.

Jack tried to maintain his stare, but it was hard to stay mad when he felt pretty. That didn’t mean Pitch’s line was working; it just meant Jack liked roses. Who didn’t like roses?

Jack gathered his wits and tried to look casual when he asked, “If that’s all you wanted, then I guess your job’s done here, isn’t it?”

Pitch didn’t look upset the way Jack thought he would. His eyes were roaming over Jack’s face and the flower tucked against it in distant admiration and Jack, for the first time, really started to think Pitch might mean something by these lines he was using.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said as if waking from a dream. This time, when Pitch melted into the dark, he sank slowly into the shadows and it didn’t feel anything like the running away it had every time previously.

He could have taken three times as long to leave and Jack still wouldn’t have found his tongue in time to reply.

5

This time, when Pitch appeared, Jack was reclining lazily up in a tree. Which Jack would have considered his home turf, except the way Pitch dripped out from the shadow of the branch above him to hang upside down, comfortable as any bat, made him feel at a distinct disadvantage.

It was creepy, but Jack could admit it was cool, too. Pitch had style.

Jack waited patiently for the line he knew was coming.

“I'd like to take you to the movies, but they don't let you bring in your own snacks.”

Jack snorted a laugh. He couldn’t help it. And yet, after all of this, Jack could admit to feeling flattered by it, too. A snack, huh?

“Why can’t you just tell me you like me and get it over with?”

Jack hadn’t realized any part of Pitch was moving until all of it, extended shadows and everything, came to a screeching halt. “Wha–” He stuttered, and it was music to Jack’s ears. “No, That’s–I don–”

The Boogeyman didn’t know how to handle it when he wasn’t in control, but rather than lash out the way Jack feared, the way he was used to, he flailed in embarrassment and conceded all ground to Jack. That, more than anything else, told Jack what he needed to know.

“Goodbye, Frost.” Pitch said with what little dignity he could muster, and dropped right into the ground.

+1

Pitch wasn’t even a surprise this time.

Jack was in the middle of a long brick walkway, icing up the ornate lamps and decorating the bare trees on either side with snow. There were plenty of shadows to pick from, but Pitch walked over from some distance away giving Jack more than enough warning to know he was there.

Jack was tempted to interrupt him. To see if he could wrongfoot him again, get Pitch to trip over his own words and obvious desires and flee.

It would be easy. Jack could think up dozens of ways to call Pitch out before he even spoke a word.

But then Jack wouldn’t get to hear him speak a word.

And he was curious what words Pitch might speak.

“Your eyes are bluer than the Atlantic ocean,” Pitch spoke softly, poetically. He must have practised to deliver the line this well. “And I don’t mind being lost at sea”

It was worth it, Jack thought: the practice and letting Pitch say it. That smooth tongue was meant for promises on the wind and romance in every word.

Jack stared for too long and only realized when Pitch’s eyes gleamed and he took another breath.

“I wish I were a tear,” he whispered as he moved closer. His cool fingers brushed gently along the side of Jack’s face and Jack felt no fear. Pitch was telling him just what he wanted, and Jack held all the power here. “...So I could start in your eyes,” Pitch said, “live on your face…” His fingers drifted down along Jack’s jaw. He knew what Pitch was going to say before he said it, “...and die on your lips.”

But it was so much better out loud, in Pitch’s voice, than in Jack’s head.

It was Antarctica all over again, but this time Pitch was offering something whose price wasn’t Jack’s soul. It was Antarctica all over again, and Pitch was brave to come back a second time, a third time, a sixth time to risk rejection and hurt and wounds reopened that maybe only just healed.

Jack watched Pitch glow in the moonlight. Watched him take a deep breath and open his lips to speak—

“You can stop now,” Jack said, and grabbed the back of Pitch’s neck to pull him in for a kiss.

Pitch’s lips tasted just as sweet as his lines.

[miraculouscontent]

I just checked the ML tag, and apparently, there's a new episode called "Gang of Secrets." Have you seen it? If yes, what happens in it?

Summary below:

- Episode opens with Ladybug having just used Miraculous Ladybug. After landing on a rooftop with her, Chat Noir compliments her strength and states that they’ve never fought a villain that fast before. He then goes to fist-bump her but she ignores him, seemingly distracted as she looks around. Chat Noir calls her, snapping her out of her trance, and asks her what’s wrong. She pretends to be okay and fist-bumps him, then yoyos higher up the rooftop and asks if they should do a patrol since they need to recheck if everything fine in Paris. Chat interjects and asks if she wants to tell him what’s wrong instead, noting that she didn’t even react when he called her “Bugaboo.” Ladybug still insists that everything is fine, saying that she has time left but she also doesn’t want to talk. Chat jumps up to her level and assures her that he knows the ideal place to “not talk,” to which Ladybug happily states that she’ll follow him there.

- Cut to Ladybug and Chat Noir in a movie theater with a romantic movie currently playing. Ladybug calls Chat Noir out for leading her into a “trap,” to which Chat shushes her and reminds her that she didn’t want to talk. Two movie-goers nearby glance at them for talking, Chat waving and then making a “shh” movement in response, to which they smile. Chat then fakes the stereotypical stretching motion to try and land his arm on Ladybug’s shoulder, but she stands up abruptly, shouting at the movie for the female lead to not tell her male love interest anything else.

- Chat Noir tries to tell Ladybug to keep her voice down, but she starts ranting about how romantic movies are lame and unrealistic. She goes to to say that, in real life, the girl takes a crazily long time to tell the boy that she loves him without stuttering, and it’s impossible to know if he loves her too, so she decides that she’s never going to be with him, and “boom,” she falls in love with someone else. Chat is getting progressively more uncomfortable at Ladybug’s outbursts and Ladybug goes onto say that everything is simple, “almost too easy,” no stammering, they hold and kiss, then--surprise, she has secrets and the boy hates secrets, which is normal, but then they have to breakup and everything’s miserable, the end. She criticizes romantic comedies for being “whatever” and Chat notices the the two moviegoers from earlier glaring at them, so he apologizes to them and leads Ladybug out of the theater.

- On the way out, Ladybug is offering the people in line for the theater advice by telling them not to see romantic comedies, suggesting that they see superhero movies instead: special effects, no feelings, no questions, and no one talks to each other because there’s nothing to say. She adds that at least they will have a good time, then finally leaves the theater in a huff, Chat Noir looking awkward and unable to do anything but wave and apologize at everyone before following Ladybug out.

- Chat walks behind Ladybug, who has gone from angry to sad/distressed. He comments that he didn’t understand everything she said and he knows nothing of her personal life, but he knows what a broken heart is like and that’s what she seems to be going through for him. Ladybug turns to face him and denies it, insisting that everything is going perfectly. She then diverts the conversation, suggesting that they go to the swimming pool and she wants to go. Chat tells her that he’s here for her if she needs to talk, but Ladybug swings off and heads for the pool. Chat Noir sighs.

- Cut to AquaBug descending from her balcony and onto her bed, complete in goggles and a towel around her neck. She collapses onto the bed Barkk and Ziggy start flying over. AquaBug looks at her corkboard of Adrien and Luka pictures, then turns away, clearly depressed. Ziggy comments on how sad this all is, to which Barkk said that she told Ziggy previously that they should remove the pictures. They go to do so now but AquaBug turns and tells them to stop, insisting that she’s not sad and the pictures don’t bother her. She insists that they’re just pictures of her friends and that she loves fashion and her friends, telling them to leave them where they are, sulking back onto her bed while insisting there’s no problem. Ziggy and Barkk leave.

- Cut to Alya and JARM (Juleka, Alix, Rose, and Mylene, for those uninitiated) in Alya’s room, where Alya states that Marinette has a problem and it’s lovesickness. She pulls up some pictures on her tablet of Marinette and Adrien (all where Marinette is either anxious or clumsy/screwing up), explains that she was in love with Adrien in the beginning, but never managed to tell him because “it’s Marinette they’re talking about and he’s Adrien.” Alya then shows pictures of Marinette and Luka, adding that then Luka enters the scene and Marinette gets to talk to him because “it’s Luka” and they get together. Rose comments that they’re both cute, but Alya adds that they broke up, to which Juleka nods and mumbles something unintelligible, pulling out her phone to show the girls a picture of Luka looking notably depressed. The girls sigh.

- Alya states that the bottom line is that Marinette never told them about it, and the only reason they knew about the break-up was that Luka told Juleka, who told Rose, who told Mylene, who told Alix, who told Alya herself. Alya laments that she’s Marinette’s best friend and didn’t know, then the scene cuts to a flashback where Alya narrates that she heard Marinette crying in the bathroom. When Alya went to check on her, Marinette opened the door with a diguise (glasses, nose, and a mustache) to cover her face, insisting that she wasn’t crying and she’s never been so happy before in her life, adding that they should throw a party.

- Cut back to the girls in Alya’s room. Rose asks why Marinette would hide things from them and Alix notes that it must be a problem if Marinette didn’t even tell Alya. Mylene asks what they should do an Alya suggests that what Marinette needs is a discussion between friends, proposing that they all call her to talk about it. The girls do some sort of five-way fist-bump completely with making a rabbit ears sign at the end.

- Marinette, still AquaBug, is sulking on her bed when her phone starts ringing, but she ignores it. Back with Alya and JARM, Alya notes that it’ll probably go to the answering machine, which it does. Cut back to AquaBug, who hears that she now has a message and taps her phone without looking to listen to it. Her friends’ voices greet her and tell her that she should know that they’re there to talk, when or where she wants. They request that she call them back, they tell her they love her and add “kisses,” then the message ends. AquaBug simply slumps back onto her bed.

- Some of the kwami hover nearby, with Barkk saying that they must intervene and will need Tikki. Trixx offers to take care of it and flies down, suggesting to AquaBug to communicate with her friends on her “talking device.” AquaBug asks what she’d say because “everything is fine.” Trixx then suggests at least de-transforming, to which AquaBug insists that she’s better off as Ladybug because she’ll be ready if Shadow Moth attacks. Trixx points out Tikki and states that she might want to rest of have a bite to eat, which finally gets AquaBug up in a panic. She de-transforms and Tikki lands in her hands. She asks Tikki if she’s already and Tikki chimes that she’s definitely better than how Marinette is doing, suggesting that they talk. Marinette, already teary-eyed, lowers her head in defeat.

- Back with Alya and JARM, Alya suggests that they all go to Marinette’s house. Mylene then gets an idea of an “eternal friendship bracelet,” pulling out a bracelet of yellow threads along with some beads. She adds that it’s so Marinette doesn’t forget that friends can tell each other everything and that they’re always there for her. She starts passing out beads to each girl (Alya - orange, Juleka - purple, Alix - green, Rose - pink), explaining that she read in an old magazine about an ancient tribe in America who did that, going onto say that they mentally confide a secret to the pearl, adding the pearl to the bracelet, and once Marinette confides her own secret, the bracelet will unite all six of them. She adds hers - the blue one - to the bracelet and asks if the others are ready, to which Alix asks if it’d be easier to just take her out for orange juice to talk. The rest of the girls give her blank expressions in response and Alix relents.

- Meanwhile, Marinette is staring at her corkboard, Tikki besides her eating a macaron, and Marinette laments that she can’t have a love story so long as she’s Ladybug. Tikki, shocked, asks her why she’d think that and Marinette says that Tikki knows very well, explaining that she had to leave Luka because she couldn’t tell him the truth and it’d just be the same for Adrien. She adds that she can’t share her secret with anyone, unable to be honest with her best friend, her parents, or anyone, and condemned to lie, all the time, to everyone. Marinette asks what she can do and Tikki admits that she wishes she could help but kwami don’t fall in love. Marinette laments that no one can help her and her life as Marinette is too complicated. She adds that it might be better to just be Ladybug all the time, then calls upon Tikki to transform her. She then leaves for the balcony and the kwami look upon her, sad, when they hear voices from below.

- Alya and JARM enter Marinette’s room and the kwami quickly flee into the dollhouse concealing the Miracle Box. Rose notices the dollhouse right away and coos over how cute it is, urges the girls to come look as well. Mylene comments that it’s another super creation from Marinette and Alya says that Marinette must be on the roof, saying that she’ll go get her as she heads for the staricase.

- Up on the balcony, Ladybug is shouting at nothing, asking Hawk Moth (not Shadow Moth?) what he’s waiting for and that she’s ready for him. When there’s no response, she sighs and walks back, dropping onto her bed. She hears Alya calling for her as she comes up the steps and Ladybug hurriedly whispers her de-transformation phrase just in time.

- Marinette asks what she’s doing there and Alya says that they’re here to see how she’s doing. Marinette then hears Rose cooing over the house and Marinette panics, hurrying down just as Rose says that she’ll remove the roof to see what’s inside. Marinette avoids the stairs entirely, dropping from the bed to forcefully pull Rose out of the way, standing protectively in front of the dollhouse. Rose drops the roof from the motion and it breaks on the ground, all girls looking on in shock as Rose apologizes for it. She reaches down to pick up the roof and Marinette requests that they get out of her room. Alya insists that it’s nothing and they’ll help her fix it, but Marinette raises her voice and demands that they leave.

- Alya, now annoyed, states that there’s obviously something going on and they won’t leave until she tells them what it is. Mylene holds up the bracelet and says that each one of them has given their secrets to it, so now it’s her turn. Marinette responds that she’ll tell them what’s wrong, then points out that they all walked into her room without her permission. The girls look briefly surprised, then Alya takes the bracelet and holds it out, insisting that they’re friends and Marinette must tell them everything. Rose adds that real friends never let each other down, and the camera cuts to Marinette with her hand behind her, desperately trying to hold the dollhouse behind her together.

- Panicking, Marinette angrily says that she doesn’t want them as friends then, snapping at them and ordering them to leave. The girls are stunned, then begin to file out of the room sadly. Marinette sadly watches them go, but averts her gaze when Alya - the last one out - makes eye contact with her. Now that everyone’s gone, Marinette collapses onto the floor, the dollhouse falling to piece behind her. Tikki flies over and Marinette tells her that she had no other choice. Tikki assures her that she knows, and Marinette says that she doesn’t have to lie anymore since she doesn’t have any friends to lie to. Tikki sighs sadly.

- At the bakery, Sabine watches with concern as Alya and JARM walk past them to leave. Sabine tries to call after them to ask what’s wrong, but they ignore her. Shadow Moth sees his opportunity and sends his akuma.

- At the park next to the bakery, the girls are sitting in a circle. Alya, holding the bracelet, laments that she lost her best friend, then passes the bracelet to Mylene. Mylene says that she’d hoped it would work, then passes it to Rose. Rose sobs about how sad it all is, then passes the bracelet to Juleka. Juleka mumbles something unintelligible, then passes the bracelet to Alix. Alix states that it can’t end like this, at which point the akuma hits the bracelet, all five girls being hit by Shadow Moth’s symbol. Shadow Moth introduces himself and states that their friend didn’t want to tell them her secrets, so he’ll grant them the powers to get them out by force in return for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses. Alya states that Marinette must remain their friend, Alix chimes in that it’ll be whether she wants to or not, Mylene adds that she won’t keep secrets from her friends anymore, and Juleka mumbles something unintelligible again. They all proceed to get akumatized into their most notable forms: Lady Wifi (who says she’ll take care of catching her), Princess Fragrance (who states that Marinette under her scent will have to put up her secrets), Timebreaker (who adds that they’ll turn back time to make everything like it used to be), and Reflekta (who says that they’ll comfort her and she’ll be their friend again). Lady Wifi adds that Horrificator will keep Ladybug and Chat Noir at bay if they try to intervene.

- Back with Marinette, the pieces of the dollhouse have been thrown away and Marinette places the Miracle Box in a brand new contraption of hers, where she has to press switches in a specific order to open and close it. She sighs in relief, at which point her phone goes off and Lady Wifi emerges from it. The kwami hide inside the box and Lady Wifi tells Marinette that she’s here for her and she’s her best friend, adding that she better tell them all of her secrets and she’ll feel much better afterwards. The kwami look on with concern and Trixx starts charging his powers. Wayzz tells to be careful and he shouldn’t do that, with Barkk asking Trixx if he remembers “last time” he used his power without a holder. Trixx points out that Marinette can’t reveal her secret, then uses Mirage.

- “Marinette” runs for the staircase, leaping up and hurrying to the balcony. Lady Wifi gives chase and sees “Marinette” now down from the balcony heading for the school, so she pursues, idly wondering how she did that. She fires at “Marinette,” telling her not to run and reminding her that they’re friends. The rest of the akumatized girls join up with Lady Wifi and they hurry inside the school. “Marinette,” who is not hiding, vanishes, as she was only an illusion.

- The illusion in Marinette’s room drops and Marinette thanks Trixx for it. Marinette then transforms into Ladybug and heads for the stairscase, stopping halfway to ask Trixx about using his powers without a holder since it’s supposed to cause a disaster. Trixx shrugs and states that his power only causes illusions, so any damage will also be illusory. Ladybug leaves and Trixx gets glared at by Wayzz and Barkk, to which he tells them not to be annoyed since Miraculous Ladybug will be everything... he hopes.

- Ladybug leaves her balcony and notices that the Eiffel Tower seems to be gyrating. She groans Trixx’s name, then yoyos away. The scene then cuts to Adrien in his room watching TV, where the news is talking about the Eiffel Tower’s odd behavior. Plagg says that he bet it was Trixx who did it, then explains that it’s the kwami of illusion when Adrien asks who Trixx is. Adrien states that it’s not an illusion and Ladybug needs help, Plagg groaning about needing to help whether it’s him who makes a mistake or not. Adrien transforms.

- In the school’s library, Lady Wifi and Timebreaker enter, the people in the library freaking as as the two go off and uses their powers, Lady Wifi firing randomly and Timebreaker touching people to get more energy to go back in time. Horrificator also scares people in the bathroom in order to power up, while Reflekta and Princess Fragrance enter the art room and asks if anyone’s seen Marinette. When they shake their heads at them, Princess Fragrance adds that they’ll help them find her, both her and Reflekta firing at all of them. The Reflekta copies leave the school and go to search for Marinette. The akumatized girl squad then exit the school, with Lady Wifi saying that Marinette is hidden somewhere and suggesting they separate.

- While the akumatized girl squad goes on a rampage, Chat Noir is running across the rooftops and quckly hides somewhere, calling Ladybug on his baton. Ladybug answers and Chat comments that the supervillains are “having a party and they haven’t been invited.” Ladybug explains that they’re searching for their classmate, Marinette, to which Chat comments that they’ve saved her multiple times yet everyone seems to like her. Ladybug adds that it seems like Marinette got into a fight with her friends all at once, looking down sadly. Chat Noir asks if she’s still there (I legitimately don’t know what else he was expecting her to say considering she answered his question) due to the silence of the call, to which Ladybug tells him that she was thinking. She points out that they’ll have a hard time finding the object since there are five akumatized villains, and Chat infers that she already has an idea. Ladybug does, saying that she wants to isolate one of them so she can tell her where the akuma is, but Chat needs to stop Timebreaker specifically from going back in time or else the plan might fail. Chat agrees and wishes her good luck, Ladybug doing the same in kind before hanging up.

- Timebreaker, who is rollerblading around and touching people, is stopped by Chat Noir, who tries to banter with her. Timebreaker states that she can’t be wasting time with him and attacks, Chat Noir blocking with his baton.

- Meanwhile, Lady Wifi is leaping across rooftops when she’s suddenly entangled and brought down by Ladybug’s yoyo, dropping her phone in the process. Ladybug steps on it, but there’s no akuma inside. Ladybug is surprised and Lady Wifi mocks her, stating that it’s “too bad” and that she’s not the one with the akuma. Ladybug says that it’s no big deal and she just wanted to talk. Lady Wifi responds by saying that she won’t tell Ladybug anything.

- Cut back to Timebreaker and Chat Noir fighting. Shadow Moth contacts the akumatized JARM and tells them that Lady Wifi is struggling against Ladybug, to which they agree to take care of it. Timebreaker leaves even as Chat Noir tries to get her to come back.

- Back with Ladybug and Lady Wifi, Ladybug asks if she’s having problems with her best friend. Lady Wifi isn’t talking, averting her gaze, while the akumatized JARM is shown to be on their way. Ladybug pretends not to know what happened between Alya and Marinette, but says that she’d like to talk to Lady Wifi about a friend of hers; a superhero, Rena Rouge. This catches Lady Wifi’s attention and Ladybug adds that they obviously have secrets between each other, even just because of her secret identity, but that they trust one another anyway even if they can’t tell each other everything, which allows them to fight alongside each other. Lady Wifi looks downwards in thought and Ladybug tells her that she can reject Shadow Moth’s power.

- Lady Wifi shuts her eyes tight, focusing. Shadow Moth’s symbol appears over her face, with Shadow Moth telling her not to listen because she’ll never know Marinette’s secret if she doesn’t, nor Ladybug’s. Lady Wifi falters and Ladybug tells her that she has absolute trust in her and that she needs her; she needs Rena Rouge. Lady Wifi clenches her fists and clutches her head, Ladybug watching tensely as Lady Wifi break freak of Shadow Moth’s mind, Shadow Moth himself shown to be holding his head from the mental impact, stating that such a thing is impossible.

- Lady Wifi de-transforms and Alya collapses. Ladybug goes to her and helps her up, calling her incredible and stating that no one’s ever done that before. Alya says that it’s because Ladybug is an incredible friend and they fist bump. Ladybug then gets a call from Chat that the Gang of Secrets is looking for her, adding that he’s trying to stop them - currently in the middle of fighting all but Horrificator - but doesn’t know how long he can hold them back. Shadow Moth contacts the remaining four akuamtized girls and tells them that Lady Wifi betrayed them and preferred Ladybug’s team, ordering them to hurry up and deal with Chat so they can take care of Ladybug.

- Ladybug asks Alya which object the akuma is in. Alya explains that it’s in a bracelet that Timebreaker should have, but that Ladybug and Chat Noir won’t be able to defeat four villains at the same time (meanwhile, me having flashbacks to “Mayura”). Ladybug says that it’s time to call the mistress of illusions and pulls out her yoyo. She opens it, reaching inside a ladybug-patterned portal to pull out the fox miraculous. Alya is in awe and asks how she did that, Ladybug explaining that it’s something new that happened since she became the guardian of the miraculouses (before anyone asks; no, there was no pre-established moment of her realizing that she could do this). Alya is about to loudly repeating “the guardian of the miraculouses,” but stops halfway and slaps her hands over her mouth. Ladybug tells her to keep the scoop to herself and especially not to post it on the LadyBlog. Alya promises and adds that she knows how to keep a secret, promptly putting on the necklace and transforming.

- Meanwhile, Reflekta has Chat down on the ground, sitting on his back with his arm (the one with his ring) twisted behind him, and . Ladybug and Rena Rouge watch from a distance and Ladybug uses Lucky Charm, getting an inner tube in response. Her lucky visions spots Timebreaker, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge, then the building with the swimming poll. Ladybug tells Rena that she has a plan.

- Back with Chat and the akumatized JARM, Chat threatens Timebreaker that he’ll activate his power if she tries to take the ring, and who knows what’ll happen to her then. Princess Fragrance approaches and asks why they should bother taking it by force when she can just make him her slave and make him give it to her. Ladybug then tells Rena Rouge that it’s time to use her power, Rena hopping up to higher on the rooftop and using Mirage.

- An illusion of Marinette appears, crying out for Chat Noir in concern. The akumatized JARM notice her and all four run off to chase her, even as Hawk Moth protests and orders them to take Chat’s miraculous first. Ladybug and Rena Rouge descend to help Chat Noir up, who thanks them for the help. Ladybug tells him that’s what friends are for, then tells both Chat and Rena to go to the pool. Chat asks what she’s going to do and Ladybug says that she’ll distract the akumatized JARM, adding that Rena will explain the rest of plan.

- The illusion of Marinette runs into the building with the swimming pool, Ladybug descending just as the remaining members of the Gang of Secrets try to pursue her. Shadow Moth orders his group to take Ladybug’s miraculous and Timebreaker tells the other three to deal with Ladybug while she takes care of Marinette. Ladybug lets Timebreaker jump over her to head inside, then tries to defend herself against the remaining three. However, Horrificator (very large from all the people she’s scared) snatches up Ladybug within a few seconds, holding her in one hand while Princess Fragrance holds up to Horrificator’s shoulder and walks along her arm to head for Ladybug.

- Back with Mirage’d Marinette, she looks behind her to see Timebreaker there. Timebreaker says that it’s time to reveal her secrets, and the scene briefly cuts back to Princess Fragrance telling Ladybug not to resist, adding that she’ll soon do everything they’ll tell her to, ordering her to give them her miraculous first. Shadow Moth is in his lair, saying that it’s his time (i.e: that he’s about to win). Timebreaker tells Marinette that she can’t escape her and Marinette runs onto a plank at the center of the pool. Time breaker makes a giant leap up and starts descending on Marinette, reaching out to touch her, but Rena Rouge drops her illusion, both Marinette and the plank underneath her fading. Timebreaker gasps in shock and plummets upside-down into the water, at which point AquaChat slips the inner tube on her, trapping her arms at her sides. He pulls her down, then lets go, forcing Timebreaker up out of the water, flipping and landing right-side-up. Chat then uses Cataclysm and breaks the object, freeing the akuma. Timebreaker de-akumatizes into Alix, who looks around in confusion and watches the akuma fly off.

- Meanwhile, Princess Fragrance is about to take Ladybug’s earrings when she starts de-akumatizing too, as well as Horrificator and Reflekta. Ladybug and Rose fall due to no longer being supported by Horrificator’s body, and Ladybug safely catches Rose, who thanks her. Ladybug lets her go with a smile, then notices the akuma leaving the swimming pool building, pulling out her yoyo and de-akumatizing it. That done, she casts Miraculous Ladybug, returning everything - including the still-gyrating Eiffel Tower - back to normal.

- JARM are hugging Ladybug looks down sadly. Rena holds out her fist for a pound and Ladybug looks over to see that Chat Noir is also ready for one. The three pound it and the scene cuts to Shadow Moth’s lair where he’s seen monologing about how Ladybug’s made mistakes in the past and she will make more (goes without saying, my dude, considering it’s literally a rule of the show and objectively the dumbest one, you ain’t cool for predicting what’s already confirmed), adding that he’ll end up finding out her secret on day.

- Rena Rouge and Ladybug land in an alley and Rena de-transformed, Alya high-fiving Trixx afterwards. Alya returns the miraculous to Ladybug and thanks her, Ladybug adding that - without her and Char Noir’s help - she wouldn’t have been able to succeed. She tells Alya that she’s lucky to have friends like her, thanking her, and Alya hugs her. Ladybug returns the embrace and the scene cuts to Marinette, now holding the “eternal friendship bracelet” in both hands.

- Marinette admits to the girls that her break-up with Luka broke her heart and not being able to tell Adrien how she felt also made her feel terrible. She slumps onto her chaise lounge and laments over how difficult love is, saying that she thinks she’ll focus on friendship from now on because it’s already complicated enough keeping her friends. Rose tells her to take her time and Mylene assures her that everything will work out, Alya approaches and taking Marinette’s hands to say that - whatever happens - they’re always there for her. Alya then pulls Marinette off the chaise and all the girls hug her, Alix chiming into say that - whenever Marinette feels ready - she can say so and they’ll come up with an “awesome plan” to tell Adiren, Luka, or whoever that she loves them. Everyone laughs and Marinette comments that she loves the girls, leading them to hug again.

- Alya and JARM are on their way out, Alix saying good-bye and Rose saying that they’ll see Marinette tomorrow. Marinette waves, then glances at the friendship bracelet now on her wrist, looking down at it sadly. Alya - again, the last one out - notices and tells the other girls that she’ll join them later because she has one last thing to say to Marinette. Alya then shuts the trap door and goes over to Marinette, taking her by the shoulder and leading her back towards the chaise.

- Alya tells Marinette that she didn’t tell them everything, and she can tell because she’s a reporter and her best friend and she feels those kinds of things. Marinette slumps back onto the chaise and Alya assures her that she’s not going to investigate or force Marinette to tell her what it is. She settles down on the chaise and puts a hand on Marinette’s back, saying that it’s in Marinette’s right if she doesn’t want to talk about what’s happening. Marinette asks if they’ll always be friends and Alya says that she’s her best friend and always will be, which is why it hurts her to not be able to help Marinette feel less alone. Marinette averts her gaze sadly and Alya sighs, getting back up and starting to leave.

- Marinette then catches Alya’s hand, telling her to stay. Alya looks back and Marinette admits that Alya’s right and she’s very lonely; more alone than ever before, and she’s finding it harder and hard to resist it. She points out that she didn’t break up with Luka because she didn’t like him - he’s amazing - and the break-up was because there’s something she can’t tell him, adding that she’s drawing a line with Adrien because it’ll be the same with him. She admits that she has secrets and lies all the time - to her friends, to her parents, to everyone - and how the worst part is that she can’t do a thing about it. Alya says that there’s always a choice and Marinette argues that there’s not one for her; that it’s beyond just them and it’s too heavy of a burden to carry. Alya suggests that they’d at least be two to carry it if it’s too heavy, and Marinette laments that things will never be the same if she tells her; that it’ll destroy everything and change it all. Alya assures Marinette that, whatever she says, she’s her friend, and Marinette starts to say something before she cuts herself of, pausing, then turns to Alya and tells her that she’s Ladybug.

- Alya’s brows raises in surprise, the two doing nothing but stare at each other before Alya looks pained and leans in to hug Marinette, who hugs her in return. The kwami are seen hovering above them and the episode ends.

[thosewickedlovelies]

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Pasteles de Gloria (part 3)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: T for mature themes (mentions of sex and violence)

Summary: Javier thanks you...appropriately, this time. Connie and Javier have a chat <3

Tags: Mention of blood. Reader starts to have Thots (same, girl)

Word count: 3,740

A/N: So their POVs in this chapter overlap a little bit...sorry if that throws anyone off, I’m still getting used to writing reader insert fics. The dessert and the Spanish are explained at the end :) Enjoy!

Masterlist

--

You hadn’t seen Javier in over a week. The first few days after that conversation had been a whirlwind of emotions- worry over whether you’d said the right things, hope that he might feel the same (plus fear that he wouldn’t), and eventually anger at his total lack of response. Until Connie told you that he and Steve had been sent on some mission.

“Nothing dangerous, but they’ll be gone for a few days. Javi must not have gotten the chance to say goodbye.” Uttered without a second’s hesitation, like it was unthinkable that Javier wouldn’t have explained himself to you if he could.

Maybe Connie knew something you didn’t.

So another several days had passed, with worry becoming the dominant theme; all your other initial feelings faded into the background as you wondered how ‘not dangerous’ DEA work could really be.

You’re settling in for another restless evening when there’s a rap on the door. Your nerves leap and jangle- you aren’t supposed to being seeing Connie again until tomorrow, so who…?

You peer through the cracked door before wrenching it open the rest of the way, your heart roaring in your ears. Javier Peña stands before you. He holds a bottle in one hand and a paper bag in the other, and looks uncharacteristically nervous. You forget you’re theoretically supposed to be upset with him as you stare at each other, wide-eyed.

He clears his throat. “Hey. Uh, sorry I disappeared on you. Boss sent me and Steve on a mission, I had to leave from work.” So Connie had been right on both accounts. He hadn’t had time to call you, and he would have if he could.

When you wait, he continues. “I thought, since I interrupted your evening the last time I was here, I could make it up to you.” He holds up the bottle, which you’re surprised to recall is indeed the same wine that you had opened the night he came to your place after reopening his wound.

You look at him in wonder, but he’s not finished. “Also, well...I can’t bake for shit, but I know somewhere that can. You ever had a pastel de gloria?”  He lifts the paper bag, cracks a small, still-nervous grin.

“I haven’t,” you confirm, an answering smile growing on your face, touched by the sweetness of his gesture and the implications it holds.

“Well, you can try them tonight, because-” his confidence apparently bolstered by your response, he holds the bottle out to you, brow quirking in request. You take it, bemused at the prospect of there still being more to his plan, and he digs something out of his back pocket with an air of presentation. “-I found the sequel to a certain movie while at a market recently. I was going to bring it to Steve and Connie’s but...now seemed like a better time to watch it.”

You almost laugh out loud as you take in the cover of the tape in his hand. It’s the sequel to that movie night travesty, all right. That Javier would do all of this...you hardly know what to say.

You hope whatever expression is on your face is saying it for you, though, as you look up at him. “Thank you, Javier. This is...amazing.” And it is, much more so than would have been necessary to thank you for helping with his leg, or to make up for his unplanned disappearance after you turned down his proposition.

He chuckles, looking down in embarrassment. “You don’t actually have to watch this shit movie if you don’t want to. That part was just a joke.” You could swear he’s blushing, the faintest tinge of color in his cheeks beneath the white hallway lights. “But you should try these pastries, because they are something else.” He offers you the bag, his body shifting sideways slightly, as if he intends to hand off his gifts and then disappear. As if his wide, guileless, puppy dog eyes and the unconscious pout to his lips weren’t begging otherwise.

Well. “Of course I want to watch this shit movie, Javi. As long as you watch it with me.” You give him a teasing grin. “It was much more fun with a spoilsport.”

Relief spills over his features, washing the tension from his shoulders and the breath from his lungs. Turning away toward the kitchen, you miss the true extent of it, leaving the door open for him as you head back inside. “Bring those to the couch, I’ll get us some plates,” you call over your shoulder.

Javier follows more slowly, collecting himself. By the time you join him in the living room, carrying, plates, wine glasses, and napkins, he’s fiddling with your VCR. You pour the wine while he sets it up, although you find yourself distracted by the shifting valleys of muscle in his back beneath his tight-fitting shirt, the bottle in your hands suspended uselessly above a glass. You curse as you almost spill.

“Everything okay?” Javi joins you on the couch, a careful, hesitant distance away.

“Of course!” You’re quick to assure him. “Now, tell me about these pastries,” you urge, eyes sparkling. He unloads them onto a plate, stacking rounded pastries into a rough pyramid, each one golden brown, sprinkled with sugar, and the size of a small fist. His voice softens as he tells you about the bakery and the older woman who runs it, who insists everyone call her ‘abuela’, even grown men and gringos like him. How he discovered it entirely by accident one day, following his nose.

“The filling is usually pasta de guayaba- guava paste- but they can also have arequipe, or cheese, or all three. She gave me a some extras, so I’m not sure which ones are which here,” he says, suddenly brusque. He gestures for you to take one first, a look on his face you can’t quite identify.

You’re definitely at risk of drooling as you pick up a pastel, Javier watching you intently. Puff pastry flakes over your plate as you take a bite.

And close your eyes in relish. A trio of flavors oozes over your tongue, each complementing the other, all of them ensconced in a sheath of sugary, flakey pastry. The creamy, neutral tang of the cheese mellowing the tart-sweet burst of fruity guava, both flavors coated in the thick, sticky-sweet burnt sugar taste of dulce de leche.

Swallowing, your eyes pop wide to look at Javier again. It’s a near-physical reaction he has to your sudden attention, an almost-flinch away from it as he awaits your verdict.

“Javier.” Your voice is serious. With slow deliberance, you lean toward him intently, reaching out to rest your hand on his forearm. You let the anticipation s t r e t c h.

“You have got to tell me how to make these.”

The breath leaves him in a rush, a huff of relief and and laughter at your dramatics. He’s hyper-aware of your hand on his skin- the casual touch reverberates through him in a way he should probably be more concerned about. It’s the first time you’ve touched him for non-medical reasons, but it heals him all the same; he feels warm, something inside him yielding in your presence.

He clears his throat. “Like I said, I can’t bake for shit. But...I can ask the abuela.” His free hand rubs at his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt. The movement draws your attention, and your gaze continues lower, to the two buttons he seems to perpetually leave undone. The smooth, flushed skin beneath. Was it warm in here?

You stand abruptly. “Is it warm in here? I’ll flip the fan on. You want to press play?” You throw him a quick smile as you cross the room to the wall switch. You flip off the overhead light while you’re there, leaving just the tall floor lamp casting a bright but cozy glow.

Javi obliges, the space dimming briefly as the opening sequence begins. You plop back down on the sofa, deliberately settling slightly closer to him- friends distance away. Handing him a wine glass, you raise yours expectantly. “¡Salud!” you beam.

Despite your cheer, you feel a trickle of nervous anticipation. What shape would your relationship take with only the two of you to guide it? You’d never been alone alone together for the express purpose of just hanging out.

Javier clinks his glass with yours. “Salud,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling upward slightly.

You order yourself to stop getting in your head. Humming around a mouthful of plum-purple wine, you set down the glass in favor of your plate, loading it with several more pastels. Blissful satisfaction fills you as a second bite confirms their perfection, and you lick sugar off your lips with a happy sigh. Beside you, Javi’s empty fingers twitch. He takes a large gulp of wine.

The movie rapidly proves to be of the same ‘quality’ as its parent. Just as quickly, you realize you didn’t need to worry about getting on with Javier. You end up having great fun at the film’s expense, frequently pausing it so Javi can explain in more detail why this or that would never happen in real life. It’s fascinating hearing him speak with such confidence, observing the minute ripples of his face as it contorts in thought. Despite his superior knowledge, he’s never condescending toward you, listening patiently to your questions and trying to answer in ways you can relate to. He sneers freely at the characters onscreen though, and you can completely picture him sitting at a one of those government conference tables, telling some poor bastard how bad his ideas are with his trademark dismissive, deadpan attitude.

There are other fascinating things about him, too. Like the way his short shirtsleeves to stretch over his arm muscles, subtle but visible, highlighted by the room’s long shadows. Like the tempting cords of his neck when he tips his head back to drink. Like more of his self-conscious glances, when he bites into a pastel and crumbs and sugar cling to his mustache. He hurriedly swipes his palm down the hairs, but you’ve caught him from the corner of your eye. You press your lips together to smother a giggle, but when he glides his tongue over his lip to catch any stray bits, your smile fades as your stomach swoops. You can sense him regarding you again as you fix your gaze on the tv. You wish you knew what was going on in his head.

Too soon the movie ends. The credits roll, but Javier shows no signs of leaving, leisurely taking out a pack of cigarettes and tapping it against his hand. “Do you mind?” he checks.

You wrinkle your nose but allow it. “As long as you do it at the window.” You stand, leaving Javi still seated, and spread your arms in a stretch, attempting to blink away some of the sleepy wine haze. “Be right back,” you tell him, taking the opportunity for a bathroom break.

After, however, before crossing the kitchen to rejoin him, you pause on the threshold of the hall. Your head tilts as you run your gaze over his unguarded stature. Javier leans against the window’s edge, his head and torso turned to exhale smoke out into the night. It doesn’t all escape immediately, gray twisting in the air around his profile, and you lose yourself in the brooding picture he paints. He believes he’s alone, but doesn’t look like he’s enjoying a peaceful smoke break- more like he’s weighed down by his thoughts, his eyes sweeping over the street without taking it in. Doesn’t he have anyone to share his burdens with?

You shuffle your feet loudly before you turn the corner, revealing your presence so he can react accordingly. As you approach, he stubs out his cigarette on the narrow sill and turns to face you, his shoulders relaxing.

“I thought of something else about that last scene,” he greets, and you’re happy to let him go on about the film, savoring the rich timbre of his voice. You talk for a little while longer, lounging by the window. He asks you more about yourself now, and you haltingly tell him about your background, how you came to arrive in Columbia. He drinks in every word, and you get the feeling he’s storing this all away, ready to reference later. As if he intends for there to be a later.

Finally it comes up. Your last interaction. “Look, I’m sorry about last time,” Javier begins. “When I, you know-” he nods jerkily in lieu of saying “tried to seduce you” out loud. “I, uh. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His gaze drops the same way it did when he was withholding how he got the cut on his leg.

You thought you had understood some of his thought process, but maybe there was more to it. “I think you do,” you disagree wryly. One shoulder lifts in a shrug. “But it’s okay, Javier. I just...didn’t want you to sleep with me just because you felt like you owed me.”

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze, yours ranging over his face and chest, searching for a reaction to what you’ve left unspoken. That you may well want him to sleep with you, but only because he actually wants to, wants you, specifically. Javier is smart, and clearly experienced with women- there’s no way he’ll miss the implication.

The longer you hold his gaze, the more clearly you see his thoughts churning, turning over everything that’s occurred between you and what it might mean, with all the analytical precision his career requires. That’s who you’ve been seeing, you realize, every time his provocative persona misses its mark with you- Agent Peña, the man who puts up a shield of derisive disdain so no one gets too close, so no one wants to. Until someone comes along who says fuck that, for whatever reasons of their own- like Steve, who demanded that Javi let him in as much as he could stand to because they’re partners, damn it, for better or for worse. Like Connie, who informed him that your well-being is important to my husband’s, so by god, you’re going to let me care about you. Like you- his neighbor and wallmate who, despite being faced with Agent Peña's rakish side, could see that there was more under the surface than just blood oozing from a knife wound.

As if realizing the window this moment is giving you, Javier shakes himself free of it, pushing off the wall. “Well, I won’t keep you up any longer,” he says gruffly. “Thanks for...this.” He gestures to the coffee table behind the couch you’re leaning on, the silent tv static jittering on the wine and pastries.

You stand too, unhurried. “Thank you, Javier. For the company, as well,” you say with sincerity.

He nods, seeming torn, perpetually caught in some internal struggle around you. Finally, he says a single word in farewell, his voice a low caress: “Vecinita.”

He starts for the door without waiting for a reply. Blinking in surprise, you spin in place. “Buenas noches, Javi,” you call, hoping your understanding reaches him.

You think it does, because he pauses for a second with his hand on the doorknob; before, with a last glance, exiting, leaving the hope kindling in your chest as the only proof it really happened.

--

Javier has a hard time focusing at work the next day. He and Steve have a lot of paperwork to get through, mostly material from their recent mission, but every time he shifts in his shitty desk chair he remembers how comfortable your couch was. How at ease you seemed sitting next to him on it. How badly he wanted to reach out to you, see if you felt as soft as you looked in that setting.

“Fuck,” he swears. The paper in his hand is the same one he’s been staring at for the past ten minutes.

Huffing, he shoves his work aside, snatches up his jacket, and heads home early. But his apartment offers even fewer distractions, so with a growl of frustration, he downs a whiskey and stalks back to the door.

Only to be stopped in his tracks by Connie, standing on his stoop with a coffee pot in hand. She looks startled by his sudden appearance, her fist still raised to knock.

“Hi, Javi. I heard you get back a little while ago, and I haven’t seen you since you and Steve returned. I thought we could catch up.” She speaks tentatively, clearly wary of his black scowl and riled energy.

“Did she send you?” he asks, eyes narrowing, jutting his chin to indicate your door.

Connie frowns in confusion. “No, I won’t be seeing her for a a day or three. She’s got an intensive-care patient at the hospital who needs around-the-clock attention.” Her own eyes narrow. “Should she have sent me? Did you do something?”

“No,” Javier retorts curtly. “Just- didn’t know if this was brought on by some of your gossip, is all.” Resigned to his interrogation, he steps back, opening the door for her.

Connie continues to glare suspiciously as she passes, but heads into his kitchen nonetheless, getting out sugar and mugs in a familiar ritual. She knew better than to bother checking the fridge for milk.

Once seated in the dining room, however, she doesn’t pry any further about you, or what he may have done, only continuing a previous line of conversation from their last chat. It helps, but as she gets caught up telling some work story, Javier’s attention drifts again.

He inhales from the cigarette between his fingers, remembering the taste of the one last night, filtering through the flavors of cherry-dark wine and sugar-encrusted pastry. He had tried to keep some figurative distance between the two of you, but you didn’t seem to want it, closing the gaps with questions, always looking so damn interested when the answers pertained to him or his life. Were you that fascinated by all your ‘friends’?

Javi doesn’t notice that Connie is scrutinizing him again, just like he hadn’t noticed that she’s been silent for the past minute.

“What’s she doing up there?” Connie asks loudly.

Javier chokes mid-drag, and a wicked smirk overtakes her face.

“What,” he croaks, trying desperately not to look guilty.

“Your neighbor,” Connie clarifies. “That’s what you’re thinking about, right?” She looks far too smug with herself.

“Hah,” Javier scoffs, trying to ignore the shivery goosebumps at someone calling you ‘his’. Buying time, he takes another long drag, letting it numb the sting from his cough.

Sometimes he wondered why he let himself get sucked into these coffee chats. They so rarely seemed to go well for him.

“Come on, Javier,” Connie coaxes. “I know there’s something between you two. Do you wanna talk about it?” A genuine offer, not just merciless teasing. She’s managed to wipe most of the mirth from her face, leaving a sympathetic expression behind.

He rubs his thumb along his mustache as he sighs a long stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what’s between us,” he finally says. “I’m not- I don’t do relationships.”

He isn’t sure he remembers how to. Nothing about his life here is suited to them- it’s intense, harsh, dangerous. Not to mention his network of CIs, who he pays for sex as well as information.

“Why not?” Connie asks simply.

A glance at her face tells Javier that it’s a serious question. He snorts. Lounging back in his chair, he raises a contemptuous eyebrow at her. “You can’t honestly tell me the DEA lifestyle is helping your marriage.”

Her face tightens, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he resolutely pushes it away- Connie knows who he is, she asked for this conversation- “My marriage isn’t up for discussion here,” she says evenly. “And besides, don’t you think that’s something for her to decide? She knows what you do, she sees you almost every day. She told me she was helping you with something- do you think she’d let herself get close to you if she was scared of your ‘lifestyle’?”

He doesn’t let it show how deeply her word affects him; but like ink dropping into water, he feels a ripple of shock. The change of color as his thoughts cloud, churn with sudden optimism. Because Connie was right, you had helped him- with a fucking secret stab wound, for christ’s sake. You’d already seen the blood and the secrets, understood that his life came with risks- and helped him without further explanation.

Javier brings the cigarette to his lips again without tasting it, unseeing gaze fixed ahead. Possible though it is that you’re not put off by the danger which hounds him, it still doesn’t mean you want to be more than friends. That was what you’d said, right? ‘Friends are a thing people have.’

But there was also what you hadn’t said last night. That- as long as it was for reasons other than feeling like he owed you- he was allowed to want to sleep with you.

Suddenly he slumps forward onto his elbows, sighing. The wrinkles on his forehead ache as he smooths his thumb over them. “I don’t know how close she wants to get,” Javi mumbles. He might be experienced at sex with women, but forming conections based on what was beneath the skin...well, not only was he rusty, but it required a frankly terrifying amount of vulnerability that he wasn’t sure he was up for.

Connie softens. “Listen, Javi, I saw the way she was looking at you during movie night. She’s interested in you, no matter how much you think she does or doesn’t know. Just- see what happens, or…ask her.” With her last words she shrugs matter-of-factly, content to drop the subject now that she’s delivered her thoughts.

His lips twist, the only begrudging acknowledgement he gives as he reflects on this. He picks up his mug and swirls the dregs of the coffee his friend had poured for him- black, like he usually takes it. He takes a sip.

For the first time, he thinks it could use a little sugar.

--

A/N: Get it, because he needs some of READER’S sugar AYOOOO...I’ll leave now lmao.

Spanish note for the less linguistically inclined: ‘Vecinita’ is the word ‘Vecina’ (Neighbor) plus the suffix ‘-ita’, which is attached to words as a way of describing them as ‘small’. So literally translated it says ‘little (feminine) neighbor’, but! This suffix is also used to say things in an affectionate way, so you could put it on the end of someone’s name (ie Pedrito <3), or on the end of another noun to indicate a nickname. (Disclaimer, I only speak Italian, but it has this same concept, so I think I did it right. Someone pls tell me if I did not). It’s used very casually, so it’s not really as deep as it sounded in Reader and Javi’s moment, but it was deep for Javi okay!!!

The dessert this chapter is named after translates to ‘Gloria pastries’, which according to Google, is a popular Columbian pastry. I have not actually ever encountered one of these personally, but I’ve had all the ingredients individually, so I cannot imagine them not being DELICIOUS all together. Here is a recipe I fully intend to try (it uses mozzarella cheese, but other sources say you can use any plain/white/farmer’s cheese). Guava paste is a really yummy, thick puree (think jam, but thick enough to stay in slab form at room temp) of guava fruit (obvs), which I’ve used in recipes before! I found it in a regular Weis market in central Pennsylvania lmao so I would guess it to be a thing you can find across the US. Arequipe is just another name for dulce de leche. I gotta get me and my sweet tooth to Columbia!!

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss, @remembertoreadthese

[guro-giri-letters]

It ain’t easy : Spinner x reader!

- By Guro. ♡

/While you and the League try to survive the summer heat in your new hideout, you and Spinner have a heart to heart. This is a longer one! Posted it on Ao3 but it’s another nice wholesome one (a little flirty) so thought I’d post it here too. Enjoy! ♡/

/Tags l Tw ; No warnings, flirting, Spinner is cute and kind of clueless. ♡/

Spinner isn’t fond of the cold but God damn, he wished your current hideout wasn’t quite so hot.

Dabi groans aloud as he peels his coat off, ducking through the only window in the entire building he and Twice had managed to shove open. “Damnit, I’m cooked,” he grits out, and then shoots both Twice and Toga a look when they snort in response. The current Hotel de League is the shell of an old apartment complex, all sealed up and stuffy from prolonged disuse. None of the windows open. Nothing electric works. But it’s dark and built strong, and far enough on the outskirts of the city that they aren’t likely to get caught squatting.

So here they’ll stay, for hell knows how long. The window they’ve found and forced open gives way to a decent sized balcony, more than big enough for most of the League to lounge on.

Toga sits happily, her legs dangling through the gaps in the bars that act as a safety railing. Dabi moves to crouch next to her and light a cigarette, rolling his eyes heavily and handing the box over to Twice when he motions for it enthusiastically. Spinner sits at the other end of the balcony, giving one of his many blades a much needed sharpening and watching the distant city. Despite the heat he feels quite content today, almost enchanted by how small everything in the city looks from here. Like he could lift it up in his hands, like a sword-wielding Godzilla.

“I’m back guys!” There’s a general murmur of greeting as you climb through the window and onto the balcony to rejoin your group, smiling at Toga as she twists around to wave at you enthusiastically. You nearly trip on your way in, planting a very warm hand on Spinner’s shoulder to steady yourself. As you straighten up, you give him an all too pretty smile in the way of thanks. Spinner can feel himself flush instantly but he tries to play it off, giving you a simple nod as you turn away and delve into the convenience store bag on your arm. Since you’re the newest member of the League, it’d been you who’d been sent out to buy some essentials to keep you all going.

“Here’s your cigarettes Twice, so you can stop stealing from Dabi.” Tossing the little cardboard box, Twice catches it with a blink, the line of his uncovered mouth twisting as Dabi gives him an accusatory scowl. “Oh, here Toga,” you chirp, handing over a strawberry ice pop to the younger girls' complete delight. She thanks you loudly, tearing the plastic packet open with her sharp teeth.

You continue chattering casually, giving out the things you’d retrieved on your short trip. Spinner watches you idly, his blade forgotten as his eyes follow you moving around in the warm sun. You’re such an easygoing person, he thinks. It’s one of the things he likes about you. You just look like you’re enjoying every moment of your time, even as you lean through the window to hand the bag and the rest of its contents to Shigaraki. Your leader takes it with two hooked fingers, blinking at you behind Father before retreating into the safety of the shadows wordlessly. For his part, Spinner looks away pointedly while you’re bent over.

“I wasn’t stealing from you!” Twice is retorting when you return and drop to sit by Spinner, snickering to yourself at the sight of Dabi leaning over the masked man, threatening. “And I’ll do it again!” Toga giggles too, and Dabi grumbles something Spinner doesn’t even hear because you’ve turned to look at him, earning his full attention instantly. Laying one of your hands over his own, you squeeze it gently.

“What are you thinking about, Spinner?” The gentle tone of your voice is enough to muffle the sound of your allies still bickering. Shifting, he moves around to face you better, watching with a blink as you take a small bite of your own ice pop. Noticing him watching you offer it to him, licking your lips. “It’s apple.”

“No thanks,” he can feel himself getting flustered again as you shrug, removing your hand from his in the process as you get comfortable. Taking another bite of your cold treat and leaning back against the bars, you squint up at the unforgiving sun. With the heat beating down you feel so warm against Spinner’s side, your legs stretched out and leaning against his own as you relax fully, humming quietly and rolling your shoulders back. “I wasn’t thinking about anything, really,” he adds to fill the silence. To his surprise you actually snort at this, letting out a quiet giggle. “What?”

“Spinner, you’re always thinking,” you reply easily as you take another bite of your ice pop. You reach into his lap, making him jump involuntarily at the sudden move, but you’re only looking for his hand again. This time you slide your fingers through his own and squeeze lightly, your smaller palm feeling so different in his reptilian one. Spinner swallows and tries to appear aloof and unaffected, stoic, but he can’t not stare at your joined hands. The soft slide of your skin against the rougher texture of his own, it makes him think of the rest of your skin, soft and sleek. Coughing, he instantly pushes down those feelings because what the hell is he thinking? Sure you’re about his own age, but you’re so pretty, so nice.

Damnit, he likes you doesn’t he?

Forcing himself to relax, he wonders vaguely if you might like him too, or if you ever could. It’s not that Spinner thinks himself undateable or anything, but… the villain has never been great with girls, knowing how they feel or what they’re thinking. And it’s not like he’s had much experience with flirting or anything, either. Who’s he gonna practice with? Twice? He snorts to himself inwardly at the thought. But… but you’re a pretty laid back person, right? Laid back and nice and honest. If he asked you you’d just tell the truth, wouldn’t you? Considering this possibility gives him a small burst of hope, and he turns his head to look at you again. You’ve just finished your ice pop, and you’re chasing melted drops that have ran down your wrist with your tongue, licking your lips when you’re done. Like your ice pop, the bit of courage Spinner has worked up melts away in seconds and he’s left hot-faced and fidgeting. You catch him looking, grinning instantly. “What? Is it on my face?”

“Oh, no- no, you’re good,” he replies surprisingly evenly, and then jumps when you scoot a little closer to him, tilting your head.

“Did it turn my tongue green?”

Spinner really thinks he’s going to freak out, his tough guy act is doing nothing here. Your tone has gone all soft and silky, secretive almost, sticking your tongue out at him with a playful grin. Of course it’s turned your tongue green, and you smell like apples and sugar. His eyes dart from your open mouth to your bright eyes, glowing under the rays of golden sun.You look pleased with yourself as you draw your tongue back in, your thumb running over his scaled knuckles.

“Yeah, it did,” Spinner breathes finally, mind blank of anything else to say as you somehow draw in even closer. Your hand leaves his and moves up to rest on his bicep, firm with muscle, your free hand coming up to cradle his jaw. Did you- were you going to kiss him? No way. “Y/n?” He murmurs, quietly, like the two of you are telling secrets.

“Spinner?” It’s an outright purr. He’s pretty sure he’s going to die under all of your attention. Jerking, his hands fumble and land on your waist to keep himself from toppling over as you pull him in close. You don’t mind the contact though, uncaring of your companions so close by as your nose moves in close to his snout. You smile, warm and sweet. “Are you really going to make me ask you to kiss me? Such a tough guy, Shuichi.”

The series of unfortunate events that takes place in the next few seconds happens way too quickly. You tilt your head up, like you really are asking him to kiss you. And he’s only just decided that he is in fact going to kiss you when a leg suddenly emerges from the window, nearly standing directly on top of you. You let out a yelp, darting forward and knocking against Spinner’s firm chest just as Mr Compress stumbles his way out onto the balcony. He almost falls right onto you, standing on Twice’s ankle and sending the masked villain into a flurry of contradictory yells that in turn causes Dabi to jump in surprise, cigarette flying out of his hand and dying in a melted puddle of ice pop left by Toga. A moment of silence fills the balcony, all of you glancing between each other in clear expectancy of someone completely losing it. It drags on a moment, and then Dabi growls, head thumping back against the railing. “I’m not even getting mad, I’m too hot.”

With that, the momentary bubble of tension burst with ease.

“My popsicle melted!”

“Mr Compress stood on us!”

“How inelegant of me, I must be getting out of practice! My apologies, dear,” Mr Compress lays a gloved hand on your shoulder, bending down to you as he straightens his hat. “I did nearly step on you.”

“It’s okay, Compress!” You haven’t moved from where you ended up, an arm around Spinner’s shoulders and your other hand on his chest to steady yourself. He hadn’t even realised he’d grabbed onto you, one of his arms locked around your waist to trail you out of Mr Compress’ way. Tangled together with you, in front of everyone, the heat outside, it all feels a little too much all of a sudden for Spinner. Without a word the scaled villain untangles himself from you, stands, and bee-lines straight for the window. “What- Spinner?” You call after him, getting up to your knees with a frown.

He looks back at you before he climbs through, a pang of guilt hitting his chest at your confused expression, like you think you’ve done something wrong. Sighing, Spinner forces himself to look away. “I’ll be back,” he says, like it could be directed at anyone on the balcony. Twice and Compress both murmur their farewells but you don’t say anything, sighing and drawing your knees up close to yourself… Had you been too forward? You didn’t think you would scare him off but maybe you had.

Spinner doesn’t come back in the next hour. He doesn’t come back for the rest of the afternoon either. By the time the gecko-quirk villain does step back out onto the balcony it’s late evening, and everyone has already made their way back into the complex. Well, nearly everyone. The blue glow of Dabi’s flames catches his eye a second too late and the pair share a vaguely awkward glance as Dabi lights his cigarette. Shaking his wrist, the burnt man extinguishes the flame and exhales a cloud of smoke. “You ran off fast earlier, lizard.”

“Shut your mouth, ash-tray,” Spinner grumbles in return, planting his elbows on the railing and staring out at the now-dark, distant city. “I wanted out of the sun.”

“You wanted out from under y/n.” Spinner glares at the jab. Dabi huffs smoke at him through his teeth, the corner of his stapled up mouth turning up. “You’re not denying it,” he rasps in that rough, odd tone of his. Spinner hates it. He almost hates Dabi himself, but not entirely. After all they’d joined with much the same intentions, hadn’t they? They had some similarities, but he definitely hates Dabi’s attitude. “What’re you so scared of, huh?”

“I’m not-” The window creaks again and both men turn their heads, watching as you climb through the window back onto the balcony. You’re wearing an oversized shirt and your feet are bare; you actually look like you’ve just woken from a nap. Blinking sleepily, you notice the pair after a moment and smile, stretching your arms above your head.

“Why’re you two awake?” You ask through a yawn, dropping your arms and moving to seat yourself by the railing.

Dabi ignores your question, flicking his cigarette and choosing instead to make direct eye contact with Spinner. “Can’t sleep, y/n?”

“No,” you reply wistfully, tilting your head. “I can never sleep in new places, Unfamiliar, you know?”

“Hm…” Dabi murmurs in return, narrowing his eyes. Was he trying to get a rise out of Spinner? Anger him on purpose? Just when Spinner thinks this Dabi grins, his teeth flashing white in the dark. He looks right at you, tilting his head and scratching at the back of his mess of dark hair. “You want some company?”

Oh.

He gives Dabi a disbelieving look and Dabi smirks back, as if challenging him. You’re blissfully unaware of the silent battle going on between them, a content smile crossing your face as you watch the sky changing colours, turning darker. “That’d be nice,” you nod, glancing back at them and then back over the city. “A late night chat is always nice.”

“I’ll keep you company,” Spinner says quickly, not willing to let Dabi continue his meddling any longer. You turn to him quickly with a smile he swears looks relieved, nodding your head. “Come on, y/n,” he takes your hand, soldiering through his nerves and moving back towards the window with you in tow. You go with him happily, turning back and giving Dabi a small wave. He simply nods in your and Spinner’s direction, the tip of his cigarette glowing in the dark the last you see of him before climbing through the window. You don’t bother speaking as you take the lead, pulling Spinner through the darkened hallways of the apartment complex and to your room. It takes a few minutes to find the room you’ve claimed as your own but when you do you beam back at him, pushing the door open and quickly shutting it behind the pair of you.

Alone in your room with you, Spinner instantly feels a bit nervous again. He hesitates a moment, but follows as you pull him over to the creaky, understuffed bed in the corner. You’d patted the dust off of some sheets earlier and thrown them over the mattress to act as a temporary bed while the League stays here. Climbing up to the head of the bed you put a hand out, motioning for Spinner to join you.

“You- you want me to get in with you?”

“Where do you want to lie, on the floor?” Spinner laughs a little at your reply, but you can hear the nerves in it. You lean forward and take his hand again, and this time he moves forward with your encouragement. There’s a moment of shuffling as he works his boots off and then squeezes onto the mattress with you. Getting comfortable takes a moment too, both of you working out where to put your limbs and how close to lie to each other. In the end your faces are mere inches apart, lying on your sides with your head pillowed on Spinner’s arm. “You should take your mask off, get comfortable.”

“I thought you wanted to chat,” he replies half-jokingly, shutting his eyes but not objecting as you slip his mask up and away from his eyes. Instantly you run your hand through his lilac hair, giggling at the way he inadvertently relaxes into your touch. The pair of you lapse into comfortable silence, listening to the far off buzz of city noise and the odd groan and creak from the apartment complex.

“...I’m sorry if I freaked you out, earlier. I guess I came on a little strong,” Spinner looks surprised by your words, tilting his head as you glance away from him. A faint blush rises on your cheeks and he blinks, realization hitting him like a train.

“Oh- Y/n, you didn’t freak me out. Well, no. I was freaked out but not because of you, I just…” he sighs, trailing off as he looks for the right words. “...I just don’t know what I’m doing, with any of this. And everyone was there. I just-” You cut him off by laying your fingertips over his lips lightly, surprise and hope in your eyes.

“So… you didn’t mind me flirting?” You can’t even contain the smile that stretches your lips, fingers moving from his mouth along the line of his jaw, entranced by the bump of scales beneath your fingertips. “You liked it?”

Spinner almost laughs, unsure whether he should be shaking his head or nodding. “No! I mean- yes, yes I liked it. No I didn’t min-” You kiss him, closing the gap between you both and cutting off his words before he can get lost in his thoughts again. You like Spinner. You’ve liked him since you joined the League and to think he liked you too is such a relief. You just can’t help yourself, your hands curling over his strong shoulders as if he might disappear again and leave you alone. He has no intention of going anywhere, though, his hand that isn’t trapped beneath your body moving to hold you by the waist. The way he kisses you back is shy, and when you pull back you’re both blinking slowly, a curious smile pulling up one corner of your lips.

“Was that your first kiss Spinner?” Redness creeps over his green skin at your question. He clears his throat, choosing instead to pose his own question instead of answering you.

“Shuichi is alright with me, if you want?”

Your heart feels incredibly warm as you nod, pulling him in by his shoulders and kissing him again. “Okay, Shuichi,” you beam, giddy and delighter as you press your face against his chest. The old, unfamiliar building has no chance of keeping you up now, not with Spinner’s strong arms linked around you.

You’ve never felt safer.