#I was having a very long day full of DID thoughts

[jeonstudios]

fontana di trevi | 02

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 9k

warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/2

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© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.

What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.

He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?

“I… didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks… almost cuddly.

Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but… you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.

This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat. 

“Yeah, I still want this. I just… wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.

“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”

You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.

“You were there to… feed, weren’t you?”

He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”

It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other. 

Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”

“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.

Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.

The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.

“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”

You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.

“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh. 

“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.

“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”

Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs. 

He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been… softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.

“I take it you’ve killed before?” 

There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.

“I have.”

“How do you…,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do… after?”

“Are you asking…?”

“How do you… dispose of them? And… I guess, how will you dispose of… me?”

It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.

You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”

You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.

Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.

One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.

You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.

Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too. 

Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything. 

It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.

Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.

“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”

“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama. 

“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”

“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”

“Vampire?”

Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.

“What… was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that… blood?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.

“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.

You think… you’re being… carried? By someone firm and… warm. You like that.

“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”

“I’m dying… right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.

“Probably, yeah.”

He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.

There’s another voice.

Next time you open your eyes, you feel… different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.

As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.

“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”

“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

“I… don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”

“I changed my mind.”

You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”

“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”

“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”

“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.

You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.

“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”

You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t. 

“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then… where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.

His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.

When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.

Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel… okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.

Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it. 

After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.

You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.

As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.

“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body? 

The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.

Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.

It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.

Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on. 

The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?

At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’

“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again. 

You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”

“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home. 

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.

“Have you even been outside of this town?”

Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.

“No.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

“Of course. But it’s not…” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”

The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.

“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”

He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.

Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking. 

It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now? 

Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.

Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently? 

Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well. 

Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.

Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.

But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.

About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do… that.

You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body. 

Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.

The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction. 

Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile. 

“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off. 

Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though. 

“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction. 

Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.

“A proposition, you say?”

“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”

“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”

“There is no catch. I want to die.”

The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened. 

You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”

“You’re Jeon’s human?”

“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.

“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.

“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”

“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”

“I’m not… I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”

The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.

“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”

“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”

“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”

“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.

“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”

You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”

That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.

“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”

The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”

You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.

“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”

The smiling vampire shakes his head. 

“No.”

You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much. 

Then, a void does take over.

Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier. 

He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?

The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood. 

He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.

Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.

“Easy, man.”

“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”

The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw. 

“She wanted to die.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”

There is no pulse.

“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.

You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds. 

Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants. 

You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.

Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks… warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie. 

You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss. 

“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”

Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy. 

He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”

You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”

It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.

“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t…”

You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you. 

But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.

He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”

Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”

He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”

Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.

“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”

“But why… Why would you want that?” 

You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?

“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”

“You don’t know me though.”

“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”

Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.

“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”

He’s about to leave when you call for him.

“Wait. What… What's your name? Your given name?”

He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”

You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but… either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.

“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.

It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”

“I have some… questions.”

He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.

“Yeah… Is that normal?”

“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”

“Okay. Well, can you… tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”

He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.

“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”

While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.

“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it… peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”

Hearing him talk so casually and almost… softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.

“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”

“—You mean staked?”

He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”

“Any?”

What does he mean by that? Human and animal?

“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.

You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”

“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly… a pretty intimate thing to do.”

“Oh, okay.” 

Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel… intimate. More of a give and take. 

“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or… if you want to, you can drink from me.”

You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”

“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of… this.”

Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face. 

“What?”

You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could… manage on my own as… as a vampire.”

Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?

“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t…” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”

Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”

It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’

“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”

‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’

Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.

You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”

“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”

“That you weren’t going to turn me?”

“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”

The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.

“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”

Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others. 

“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.

You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.

“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.

Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.

You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.

“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.

Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling. 

One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.

“How come everything is so… easy?”

He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well… do you feel cared for?”

You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.

So you nod.

“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”

“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.

Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps… also care a little bit for someone?”

You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like… the change of scenery and seasons. But also…”

“Also…?”

He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”

You shake your head.

“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”

“No.”

“Then, maybe… you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”

Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.

He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.

Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.

“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”

He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but… almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly. 

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.

“Well, if you want it… go for it.”

“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it. 

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”

He chuckles. “Vampires who are more… compatible tend to smell good to each other.”

His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”

“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood… I lied.”

Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.

“You lied? About not liking my blood?”

“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”

You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.

“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”

You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him. 

He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little… almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.

Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.

“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips. 

You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing. 

“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so… amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re… you know…”

You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.

It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.

He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”

You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.

He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”

“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I…? Do you… want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I…”

You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much,  but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but… you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?

“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”

You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.

“So, you’re really just… ancient?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”

He rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”

“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”

“That’s kinda… cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”

“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”

Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.

“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”

“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna take a dip?”

“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably… illegal?”

“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.

<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3

[dixons-sunshine]

Good Job! | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When out gathering supplies with Daryl, he successfully catches your dinner. To show him how proud you were, you bestowed him the highest honour you could at that moment—a sticker.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison.

Warnings: Animal death.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: Inspired by a post I saw by @darylsdelts. I hope y’all like this!

The sun was shining brightly in the sky. Birds were chirping merrily from their sanctuary in the trees and the air just felt fresher than usual. If it were the old world, you would have spent the day lounging next to some body of water, a cold beverage in your hand as you soaked up the vitamin D the sun provided.

But it was not the old world. Instead of spending the day relaxing or something along those lines, you were instead trudging through the woods in clothes too long to be worn in such intense heat, wearing shoes so heavy you were seriously amazed that people wore them simply because they wanted to before the dead started walking, lugging a duffle bag full of supplies and deadly rifle along with you—a weapon you never would have thought you would be able to handle with the immense skill you now possessed.

Despite all those nuances that, under normal circumstances, would have had you complaining, you could not find it in yourself to do so, because it was not normal circumstances. The harshness of the world run by the dead had toughened your resolve and made you realize that some discomforts definitely were not as bad as you once thought them to be. Sure, you absolutely despised having to eat worms when the situation called for it, but you held your tongue because it was certainly better than the alternative, which was to starve.

Very rarely did you complain about anything nowadays—well, that is, if you did not count in the amount of times you had complained about Glenn’s snoring before, but that was all more in good fun. And a good chunk of what you knew to survive in a world like this was all thanks to the man you were trailing behind; your partner, Daryl Dixon.

As if somehow sensing that you had been thinking of him, Daryl glanced over his shoulder at you, his blue eyes sparkling with a softness reserved only for you.

“You alright back there?” he called back to you, despite already knowing what the answer would be. You were not the type of person to complain much about anything, and that was an attribute about you that he loved.

You nodded your head and adjusted the rifle’s strap over your shoulder. “I’m fine, Dar,” you assured him, sending him a radiant smile.

He nodded his head and turned his attention back in front of him. He kept his crossbow trained in front of him as his eyes searched for any dangers that could be lurking in the shadows, be it a walker, a wild animal, or another person. His main mission was to get the two of you to his bike that had been left abandoned for the time being, as the two of you had been forced to go on foot to the cabin Michonne had come across whilst on her search for the Governor.

The cabin—which had been in pretty decent shape despite being abandoned—had been stocked with supplies. You and Daryl, along with some other people, would have to go back in the morning to get the rest of the supplies. The two of you had stumbled across a metaphorical gold mine.

“So, Daryl,” you began, deeming it safe to strike up a conversation when the man in question grunted in acknowledgement. “What’s your favourite bird?”

The unexpectedness of the question made Daryl chuckle. He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes trained forward. “I don’ know. Maybe a bluejay?”

You nodded in approval at his choice, although he could not see you do so. “Great choice.”

Daryl hummed, glancing back at you. “Why’d ya ask?” he inquired. However, his attention got diverted when he heard something in the distance, his senses jumping to high alert.

“Just curious, is all.” You transferred the duffle bag from your one hand into the other, nearly sighing in relief when the blood began circulating through it again. “What—”

“Shh,” he shushed you quietly, instantly shutting you up. He motioned for you to stay put as he quietly stalked towards the bush where the source of the noise was, his crossbow raised and ready to be fired at a moment’s notice.

The perpetrator quickly got revealed in the form of a raccoon when Daryl pulled the leaves back. It hissed up at the archer, but it quickly got silenced when one of Daryl’s bolts pierced through its body. The pained whimper it let out right before it died made your heart ache a bit, but you quickly reminded yourself that it was necessary. It meant that there was the slightest bit more nutrition to bring back to the prison. Its death would not be in vain.

Daryl picked up his bolt, the raccoon’s body sat on it, before turning back to you. He simply raised the arrow a bit, shrugging a bit as he looked at you.

“Got us our dinner,” he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing to say.

You laughed lightly at him, shaking your head. However, it was as if a lightbulb went of in your head. Placing the duffle bag on the ground, you leaned down and zipped it open before rummaging through multiple cans of food and other supplies, in search of something you had bagged for little Judith to play with.

“Ah-ha!” you exclaimed victoriously when you found it, taking it out of the bag to reveal a small sticker book. You stepped towards your partner while flipping through the pages, searching for the sticker you had spotted when you had initially looked through it the first time.

You found it after a few moments. You gently peeled the sticker off of the page and pressed it against the archer’s beloved vest, the bright, neon-like yellow ‘good job!’ standing out against the gray leather. You smiled and gently patted his chest, before taking a step back.

“Good job,” you repeated the words on the sticker, giggling to yourself.

Daryl rolled his eyes at you, but he could not help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks,” he drawled sarcastically, trying not to laugh at the silliness of the situation. “S’much appreciated.”

“Oh, come on. I know you love it,” you told him through your small fits of laughter, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

Daryl simply shook his head. “You’re ridiculous, ya know that?” Despite his words, he could not help the warmth that bloomed in his chest. He felt oddly touched by the small gesture, felt appreciated. He could not explain it.

You laughed and picked up the bag again, before beginning to walk again. “Yeah, but you love that about me.”

Among a lot of other things, Daryl thought to himself. However, he shook the thought from his mind and caught up with you, this time falling into step beside you rather than being in the lead.

As the two of you walked the remaining short distance to Daryl’s bike, with you striking up another conversation, Daryl simply admired you. He felt like the luckiest man alive for being able to say that you were his girl.

And if he got teased by the members of his found family for the sticker that remained on his vest for the rest of that day, he could not have cared less.

Taglist: @holdmytesseract @thevegandarkelf (comment/DM/inbox me to be added/removed!)

[autumnscribbles]

the one | drew starkey

pairing: drew x married!reader

summary: drew had a thing for you for as long as he could remember. coming back home, he faces a sad and scary truth

warnings: abuse (emotional, physical),swearing, I guess emotional “cheating”?

wc: 3k

a/n: thank you to the anon that sent this in!! it’s my first drew imagine so i hope yall like it!! i had a lot of fun writing it

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You stood around a table with your friends, your husband beside you with his arm wrapped snuggly around your waist. You laughed as your friend recounted a story from your childhood. It had everyone with their heads thrown back, drinks threatening to tip out of their glasses in hand.

“Y/n, you and Drew were the absolute funniest,” she gasped through her cackles.

You signed in content, fondly thinking back to your friend. You had lost contact with Drew since he was casted in Outer Banks. He hadn’t seemed to really keep up with anyone from his hometown. You weren’t even sure if he knew you were married to Derek, one of his best friends. Or you suppose, old best friends.

Shortly after Drew left, you and Derek became close. Bonding over missing Drew’s presence, the two of you started hanging out with each other. He was everything you hoped. Handsome, charming, showering you with compliments or gifts. He proposed to you, and it wasn’t long before the two of you said I do.

As your husband’s grip tightened around your waist, you couldn’t stop thinking about Drew. You always thought of him as your first real love, even though nothing happened between you. You would always have a soft spot for him, even if it wasn’t reciprocated. You always assumed you’d end up with him, and had spent countless days daydreaming of marrying him. He made his stance clear when he left. At first, he would text you and update you, but that faded. You were lucky if he even saw an instagram story you posted. He had moved on, so you did too.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Drew stepped into the local cafe, his suitcase dragging behind him. He couldn’t come home without his first stop being to acquire his favorite coffee. He began walking up to the counter before something caught his eye. You were sitting in the corner booth, as always, iced latte in front of you and your nose in a book. Drew couldn’t help but grin, acknowledging the way your brows slightly furrowed. He knew you were at a good part of the book.

His mind took him back to countless days spent hunched over that very same table. Crunching for exams with notes spread all over the table. You used to always slam your hand down, telling him to focus. You never knew he wasn’t focusing because he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Y/n?” he called gently as he approached your table.

You looked up, pulled out of your imaginary world and gasped. You almost screamed at the sight of your old friend in front of you. You stood up immediately, wrapping your arms tightly around him. You breathed in his familiar scent, fuelling you with nostalgia.

“Drew,” you breathed, staring into his blue eyes with your hands on his arms. “You’re home.”

“Yeah, I had some time off,” he explained. “I’m happy to see you.”

You invited him to sit, placing you bookmark and closing your book. He had your full attention. He felt breathless seeing you in person again. You looked different, yet the same. He noticed something glint on the table and lowered his gaze. He saw the ring on your finger.

“You got married?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “To Derek, actually.”

Drew felt his heart sink. Derek was his best friend. Their whole life Derek knew the feelings Drew had for you. Derek was constantly telling him that you didn’t feel the same way, you liked someone else, he heard someone say you were seeing someone. Was it all a lie? Did he like you all along?

“I wasn’t invited?” Drew asked playfully, but was actually serious.

“We didn’t do a ceremony,” you explained. “He wanted to just elope, skip the other extravagance.”

He could hear the slight lilt in your voice as you said that. Drew knew for a fact you had been dreaming about your wedding day since you were little. You eloped? With no one to see? He just couldn’t picture it. With Derek of all people?

“You’d be in the loop if you came around more,” you muttered. “Or called every now and then.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Drew sighed, filled with guilt. His best friend got married and he had no idea. “I think I just got so caught up in everything. It all moves so fast it’s hard to keep up. I’ve been thinking a lot about you, about home.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “That was mean of me, you don’t need to explain.”

Drew went to keep apologizing, but another familiar face burst through the door. Derek strode over to your table, suit jacket perfectly ironed.

“Drew, babe, hey,” he said through a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Drew stood up and gave Derek a hug. Derek’s eyes stayed on you, darkening slightly. He was being nice to Drew, but you knew something was wrong.

“Y/n, you didn’t tell me you were hanging out with him,” Derek mentioned pleasantly.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting him,” you laughed. “He walked in and we just started chatting.”

“Well, we have to get home,” he said sharply. “Peter and his wife are coming for dinner, remember?”

“Of course I remember,” you laughed. “Drew, do you want to join us tonight?”

“I’d love to,” he smiled.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

The door slammed behind you as you walked in the front door of your house. You jumped slightly, turning to meet Derek’s eyes.

“Why are you sneaking around with him?” he sneered.

“He, is our friend. Your best friend, remember? I’m sick of you always accusing me of things,” you shot back.

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t act like a slut all the time.”

You froze. The words sunk into your skin. Worked through your veins. Slut. Derek had been on edge lately. Easier to set off. You noticed him snapping at you more often. Calling you names, telling you what to do. He was just stressed. That had to be all it was, right?

You silently walked towards the kitchen, being jolted back when his hand tightly grabbed your wrist, him telling you to look at him when he speaks. He yanked you back, slamming you into the wall behind you. You winced, pain shooting through your head.

“Y/n,” he whispered. “I-I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again I-I don’t know what happened.”

You felt the tears stinging the back of your eyes. The back of your throat burning. The back of your head throbbing.

“I’m gonna go start dinner,” you mumbled, and this time, he let go of you.

“I’ll go grab the wine,” he said, leaving the house with a quiet shut of the door.

You stood silently in your newly renovated kitchen. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but never did. You didn’t know how to react. Derek had been so perfect. You stood wondering what happened. How you got here. It was just a mistake, right? It had to be.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You put on a brave face as you set the table. The flowers Derek brought home for you set in the centre, with the expensive bottles of wine on either side. He apologized profusely, and you decided to let it go. You wanted to have a good night. You couldn’t let one spat ruin your night, or your marriage, could you?

Derek had never liked you hanging out with other guys. Honestly, he usually didn’t like you hanging out with other people in general. He always told you that he was the only one who would ever truly be there for you. Maybe he was right. Maybe you should have thought of him more. He always said you were too selfish, and maybe it was true.

Your friends slowly arrived, Drew following shortly after your other friends. He reached in for a hug, and you felt Derek’s eyes burning a hole in your back. You settled for a side hug, not wanting to be rude. You were a wife now, you had to behave like one.

Drew sat down next to you, and as you poured a glass of wine and took your first sip, you felt yourself unwinding a little. The conversation flowed easily, Derek’s hand never leaving your body. Whether it was your thigh, hand, arm, he was always touching you. You noticed when you talked to Drew, his grip got a bit tighter. Each time, you took a big gulp of your wine, trying to forget the events of the day.

Drew noticed as you flinched slightly, Derek’s hand on your arm. He whispered in your ear as you both stood up to leave the room, politely excusing yourselves. He stayed silent, knowing it wasn’t his business. You weren’t his, you never would be now.

Drew fell into conversation with the other couple, not knowing that in the next room you were being called a drunk by your husband, and told you were embarrassing.

“I’m worried about her.” He heard your friend, Belle, mumble into her husbands ear.

“About y/n?” he spoke up. He didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, but he had been gone for so long. He didn’t know anything that was happening in your life.

Belle nodded, looking over her shoulder to make sure everyone else was out of earshot.

“She’s just so different since marrying him,” she whispered. “She’s gotten so…small almost. Making herself small. She seems almost scared to set him off. She never hangs out anymore without him because he won’t let her. I don’t want to accuse him of anything, but I’m worried she’s being ab-”

She was cut off by you and Derek entering the room and taking your seats again. Abused? Was she about to say abused? No way. That couldn’t be. He knew Derek, didn’t he? If you were being hurt, he’d know, wouldn’t he?

The rest of the night Drew’s eyes stayed on you. He noticed small things, like how you nodded obediently to Derek. How Derek made sly remarks about your dress, or a mistake with the cooking. Could what Belle was saying be true?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You shut the door softly behind your last guest. Derek was on you immediately.

“You’re an embarrassment,” he scoffed. “Basically throwing yourself at him in front of me. You look like a drunk, and a mess.”

“Leave me alone, Derek,” you sighed. “I can’t do this anymore tonight.”

Before you could register what happened, a sharp pain hit your cheek, a loud crash around you. You clutched your face, the smell of red wine filling your nostrils. He threw the bottle at you. You felt something sharp in your face, pulling out the shard of glass lodged in there.

“Don’t talk back to me,” he screamed, making you jump back.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you whispered as you stepped out the front door. He needed a second to calm down, and you needed a second to process.

After a few deep breaths, you placed your hand back on the door handle, only to find it locked. He locked you out. You banged on the door, screaming his name and telling him to open the door.

“You can sleep on the street for all I care,” he yelled through the door. “I can’t look at your whore face anymore.”

You continued to bang on the door, tears streaming down your face for the first time since everything happened. You saw his shadow retreat, all the lights shut off. You were left alone in the dark. No phone, no keys, no shoes. He couldn’t leave you out here all night, could he?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Drew felt his pockets for his phone, to no prevail. He must have forgotten it at your place. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Belle said. Was she actually about to say abuse?

He shook it off briefly as he climbed back into the rental car, making his way back to your house. He hoped you would still answer the door. As he turned onto your street, he saw a girl walking. More like limping. She had no shoes on. He slowed down slightly, slamming the brakes as soon as his headlights revealed who it was.

“Y/n!” he panicked as he jumped out of the car, running up to you. “Are you okay? What happened? You’re bleeding.”

It felt like he was talking a mile a minute, unable to slow down.

“C-can I stay with you tonight?” you stuttered between sobs.

“Of course you can,” Drew whispered as his thumb swiped a stray tear away. “Come, get in the car.”

He opened the door for you and helped you in, rushing back to the drivers side. He didn’t care about his phone anymore. The only thing that mattered was you.

You say in silence as he drove, pulling into the driveway soon after. He helped you out of the car and into the house. He walked you to the bathroom, turning the light on to examine the cut on your cheek.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

“You’re hurt,” Drew said, tears prickling his eyes. He cleaned the wound gently, his warm hands treating you so tenderly.

“He…” you breathed. “He threw a bottle at me, then locked me outside.”

Drew’s jaw clenched as he tried to stay calm. It wouldn’t help if he got angry or freaked out. He wanted you to feel comfortable, despite all the thoughts and emotions running through him.

You didn’t say anything else for a while. Drew gave you a t shirt and sweatpants to change into.

“You can have the bed,” he said as he lifted the covers, urging you to climb under. “I’ll go on the couch. If you want to talk I’m here, okay?”

He turned to leave the room, but you stopped him.

“Drew?” you called, your voice barely audible. “Can you lie with me for a bit?”

He felt his heart jump as he walked to the bed, sitting on the edge for a minute before lying back beside you. He stayed on top of the covers, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. His mind spun with guilt. He never should have left you, or fallen out of touch. If he had been here to see the signs, he could have helped you. He could have stopped it. He couldn’t fathom his, now former, best friend hurting the girl he loved.

You lay there silently until you broke. Violent sobs shook your body. You felt Drew’s arms pull you close as you cried. He rubbed your back, assuring you that you were safe. He had you. When the tears finally somewhat relented, you spoke.

“He hurt me earlier today too,” you said. “After the cafe. He called me a slut and slammed me against the wall.”

Drew’s breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t bear to hear that this happened to you. He couldn’t even speak.

“How did I get here? I thought I was better than this. That I’d never put up with this,” you ranted. “I should have seen the signs, should have done something sooner. I just wanted someone to love me.”

“That’s not love, y/n,” Drew told you.

“I know,” you sighed. “I shouldn’t have married him. He made all these promises. When you left he…he told me you didn’t care. That he was the only one who would ever be there for me. I stupidly believed him. Who else would marry me?”

“Of course I care,” Drew choked, tears burning his eyes. “It hurt too much for me to be close to you. It was selfish and stupid, but I couldn’t bear it knowing you didn’t…love me back.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he quickly interjected. “I shouldn’t be talking about myself. I should have been here for you. I should have helped you.”

You knew you were technically married, but you hung on Drew’s words. Love him back? He loved you? That’s all you ever wanted to hear.

“What do you mean…didn’t love you back?” you asked.

“Derek…” he paused after his name, like it burned leaving his lips. “Told me you never saw me that way. That he was better for you and you wanted him. It hurt me too much.”

“Drew..” you breathed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassured you.

“Drew,” you repeated. “I’ve been in love with you since what feels like the moment I saw you. You were the one I always thought I would be with. When he told me you didn’t see me that way, I just wanted someone to care.”

Your words left Drew speechless. This whole time, Derek was playing both sides. The whole time, you could have been with him instead. You were manipulated and hurt, and it was his fault. He was a coward.

“Why are you crying?” you asked, cupping his cheek with your palm.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried. “I’m sorry I left you.”

“I can’t stay in that marriage Drew,” you sighed. “Especially not now. I shouldn’t have done it when my heart belonged to someone else.”

“Are you saying…”

“I love you,” you whispered. You head lay on his chest, and you felt his heartbeat speed up.

“I love you,” he replied. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

After sitting in silence for a while, you let out a yawn. He wanted to kiss you, but not like this. Not with you so vulnerable. It wouldn’t feel right.

“Get some sleep, angel,” he said, kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll be here in the morning to figure out the rest.”

You had no idea what to do, or where to go from here. Your mind was reeling, but now you were crashing from all the stress on your body. Whatever tomorrow brought, you would be okay. When you woke up, Drew would still be here. As long as he was here, it would be okay. It had to.

[xaeoism]

FLOWERS FOR YOU (Scaramouche x gender neutral reader)

A/N: Might've lost the plot after trying to write this out for months..

Scaramouche was a florist, and he's not very good in expressing his feelings.

While the exterior of the store might look cold and minimalist, the same cannot be said for the interior. The front window showcases the exquisitely done bouquets, attracting the eyes of passersby and inviting them to come in the store. Further inside, there are shelves carrying different floral species of every colour lined along the walls and buckets of fresh flowers arranged in rows on the ground, for customers to pick out the flowers themselves.

The cool air circulating around the store carries the scent of the fresh flowers, the fragrance further enticing customers that have just opened the door to come in and explore to their heart's content.

When Scaramouche hears the jingle of the bell hung at the top of the entrance, he sighs internally. After all, another customer just means another bouquet to arrange and wrap up for.

Scaramouche has never liked flowers.

He walks out to the counter and opts to put on the friendliest smile he could muster to see the customer already squatting down to check out the types of flowers they could choose from.

"Welcome, may I be of any assistance to you?", he questions.

The customer turns their head and gives Scaramouche a little nod to acknowledge him before bringing their attention back to the fresh flowers in front of them. Scaramouche's smile pulls into a thin line at the lack of response.

Just as he was about to turn around and click his tongue in annoyance, the customer stops him in his tracks when they finally open their mouth to ask, "If the bouquet was to be given to a love interest, what flowers would you recommend?"

He turns his head to the customer once more, a smile resurfacing upon his features. His favourite question. He replies with ease, "I'd recommend roses, baby breath and some lavender."

Classy, inexpensive and easy for him to wrap it up.

He makes quick work of the bouquet, ensuring that it has been wrapped neatly before ringing them up and sending them off with a smile.

When the bell rings again and he is greeted with the sight of you, he lets out a sigh to try and hide the small smile that forms on his face.

"Morning, Kuni. How are you doing today?", you ask, giving him such a sweet smile that even the beauty of the flowers combined can't compare.

Scaramouche has never liked flowers, but, he supposed that he would tolerate it for you.

"My day was going fine until you came.", he answers, narrowing his eyes when they meet yours.

"Oh? Did my presence make your day?", you teased while making your way through the store to get to him.

"You wish.", he retorts.

"Whatever you say, Kuni. Anyways, what are your top picks for this week?", you ask as you lean on the counter.

"For you? Nothing. Don't expect a bouquet."

You turn around after hearing those words, about to argue back before a bouquet appears in front of you. It was made out of all your favourites - the large white peonies dominate the bouquet with their soft, full blooms, slightly hidden by the small yet vibrant pink carnations. Long feathery ferns bring about texture and balance, completing the arrangement with a bright and delicate touch.

You look back at him, surprise evident in your eyes before it turns into a mischievous glint when you see the tip of his ears turning red.

"Oh, what's this now? I thought you said you weren't giving me anything?", you teased.

"Fine, don't have it then. I'll give it to the next customer for free.", he grumbles, retracting his arm back.

"Come on now Kuni, I never said I didn't want it.", you reply, hastily taking the bouquet from him before it disappeared under the counter. You held it close to yourself, a smile adorning your face as you admire the arrangement he made for you.

Warmth wraps around his heart like a blanket when he sees your expression towards the flowers, and he thinks that there is definitely no one else in this world who could make his heart beat just like you.

"Well, aren't you going to pay up? Surely you don't think that my service comes for free.", he asks with a small huff.

You look up at him, flashing him a bright smile before leaning over the counter to give him a kiss. "Thank you, Kuni. I really loved the flowers this time."

He takes a look at you for a few seconds, admiring your features before he pulls you close to him.

"Are you kidding? I think you owe me more than just one kiss, darling.", he says.

"Hmm, would ten more suffice?", you ask.

"Hah, I'll tell you when it's enough.", is all he says before his lips are on yours once more.

[solar4seekstron]

Tf1!Megatron x Cybertronian!GN!Reader: Plan C - A Deal

Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

TW/Tags: Toxic Relationship, Trapped Relationship, Megatron is a toxic partner, implied sex, couple make out sessions, Doubledealer cameo, Megatron truly loves reader, Doubledealer gets his aft handed to him, I believe that’s all.

It’s been a few months once more. Almost a year now since that night. Since then. He Showed you many times to not disobey him even when you don’t realize it over the days. Eventually you became more “ reluctant” to his advances.

You were just waiting until you were finally with sparkling to at least get a break.

When you woke up in your berth. You noticed Megatron wasn’t recharging next to you. Megatron was sitting on the berth, his back towards you as he looked down. You’ve noticed he does this at times mostly at night as he gets flashbacks of that very day.

The “betrayal” of Optimus Prime. And the many things he went through before finding out his life was a lie.

You soon sat up without much thought. Once you fully sat up. His helm lifted up. No longer hanging down as his optics wondered a bit. Still not facing you. “Sweetspark.”

His voice is deep as always but with tiredness tinted in.

”Come…..sit on my lap. I wish to hold you before our day starts..” His voice still makes you jump. You can’t really say no. Now can you? And so you got up next to him and moved to where you’re on his lap.

Sitting on one of his thighs as his arm and cervo soon moves around your waist. You didn’t notice until now that his other cervo was holding a data pad.

He’d keep looking at it and groaned as he closed his optics. “I have to meet this mercenary named..”Doubledealer”…..after my time ruling and making a name for myself. He wants to “team up”..Psh.”

He then tossed the data pad at the foot of the berth. Rests rests his cervo ontop of your thigh.

”He really thinks I would want to have a truce with some mercenary. What an old fool.”

You stays quiet. Only looking down at your cervos on your lap as he spoke, not daring to say a word to tick him off more.

“I guess I have a meeting today. He held the bridge of his nose as he sighed and his now red optics looked down at you. You looked at the floor waiting to hear what he’ll say next.

His cervo now holds your chin, lifting your helm to look at him. “Maybe it‘ll be alright if you’re with me. Every powerful man has a partner he adores. Heh…..Megatronus did with Solus.”

He then kissed your forhelm and sighed.

His optics closed as the arm around your waist moved. His cervo going to your panel, gently cupping it. I do have the privilege of having a lovely bot in my arms. On instinct your cervo gently held his arm with the cervo against your panel.

He chucked, his dermas going to yours. Giving you a gentle kiss as he closed his optics. Whispering I love yous between them. You returned the kiss.

Soon pressing his glossa against your dermas asking for access….

You accepted…

And so a make out session commenced. Your cervos on the side and back of his helm as his own rested on your lower back and waist. You’d both continue and hold onto each other.

The only thing heard in the quiet room is your kisses and small moans.

But this didn’t last long.

The moment was actually….peaceful. But then of course. He gets a comm from Soundwave. Needing him in the throne room.

He had to pull away. His cervo moving from your chin and answered the call.

“Alright we’ll be there.” The call ends and hearing that you got up. He didn’t seem to mind as he stood up and started walking to the throne room. You stayed close behind.

As you both walked you noticed how dark the back of the throne was. He continued to walk and you see a bunch of bots in the center of the room.

A bot standing in front of them full of confidence. He must be Doubledealer. Soundwave was waiting in the dark. The three of your optics lights being your only source of bright lights. Soundwave passed Megatron some data pads.

After he looked over them a few times he chuckled. Then gives them to you.

”When I snap my fingers you pass them to me in order. Understood? Oh and stay behind the throne to catch them by surprise. They won't expect me to be noticing them. Understood?”

He whispered to you. As he stared down at you. Your face covered in the red light of his optics as you nodded. He then gave his grim.

Almost soft smile as he stand straighter and walks from behind the throne as he spoke.

“Doubledealer. You sure are brave to come aboard my ship….”

He then sits in his throne as Doubledealer then spoke. Doubledealer having a grin on his dermas. You stayed behind the throne as he ordered. The conversation lasted for what seemed like an hour. That’s when you hear his snap.

Soon you walk out from behind the throne. Holding the data pads professionally. Soon putting one in Megatrons cervo that he had out for the data pad. You stay next to him holding the other data pads as you wait for him to need another.

You tried to pay no mind as Doubledealer and a few of his mechs stared at you as Megatron spoke.

”I’ve read that in many parts of the city and so forth. While I am intrigued…..why should I trust some mech like you?…..”

the two continue to talk for a while longer as you stay there. Megatron taking data pad and data pad reading over them once more.

Doubledealer continues to speak. Sounding confident and snarky at times. You only continued to look down and kept your cervos together. Before you knew it Megatron was angry…Really angry.

Then throwing the data pads to the grown and stand up as his voice roared at the bots. You see that they were a bit startled. You watched him as he took a step down the stairs toawrds the floor. From his throne.

He continues to speak. His voice still roaring as the others back up a bit. You only watch still next to the throne as he continues.

Putting his hands behind his back as Doubledealer tried to speak for himself and the others in his team.

”Not only are you disrespecting me on my ship! You also disrespected my hospitality of even excepting you on my ship! Giving you energon.

And what do you do?! Complain and mock me for my youth and worst of all!” He picked up Doubledealer by the collar of his chest with an iron grip. Causing him to grab at Megatrons arm with his cervo. The other mechs with him watching in fright and horror.

“Hey! Hey! Wait!”

”You….keep making eyes at my Partner!!!”

He then throws him into the ground. You were surprised as well. Soundwave staying close by to watch over you. Megatron continues to yell before kicking the bot further towards his comrades.

After a moment of silence as Doubledealer try’s to stand up. Megatron makes his way to the throne and grabbed your cervo taking you with him.

As he sat down, he placed you on his thigh once more. Both of your leg between his as his cervo keeps you close resting on your thigh. His other on the arm of the throne. You know what he wanted as he spoke. So before Doubledealer and the others looked at him as he spoke.

You rested your cervo on his chest and the other around his neck. The cervo resting on his shoulder. You looked at them as Megatron continues to speak.

As Doubledealer stood up Megatron only continued to talk down to the bot. That’s until Doubledealer spoke and megatrons hold on you only gripped more tightly on you.

Your chest close to his face as Doubledealer spoke.

After the two spoke Megatron chuckled. Doubledealer said something that really pleased him and Megatron soon spoke as his cervo gently held one of yours.

”I suppose I’ve been too hasty. I suppose you can help us with my cause. But if you so think of trying to disrespect me once more. I’ll have my guards be sure to teach you and your little minions a lesson.” That last sentence is more of a threat as his voice grew a bit deeper there.

He’d then kiss the back of your cervo as his optics closed while Doubledealer stuttered as he spoke.

“Now leave…….Everyone!” Doubledealer, his team, and the other decepticons soon leave the room. Megatrons cervos still holding you as everyone leaves. Once the room is empty you felt his dermas pressed on your chest.

”…..I hope I didn’t scare you too badly sweetspark….” He places another kiss on your neck.

He’d move the cervo once holding yours to your panel. “I’d have to learn to be a bit more….patient? Though I’m sure I’ve been doing that for long enough before…” You stay silent for a moment. “Megatron when I wished to join-”

“You are just a Conjunx, or have you forgotten?”

You soon felt a chill in your body. His red optics burning into yours as he stared at you. You slowly shook your head. “No…Megatron.” You said in a whisper.

“What was that?” He asked.

“N…no Seeetspark..”

He let out a sigh. Gently leaning his helm down and pressing his dermas against yours. You returning it as one of your cervos rests on his chest once more. You two continue this as as he moves your hips in front of his.

Your knees on both side of his hips as he pulled your frame against his. Little did you two know. A certain bot….the leader with optics on you before….Luckily for him…

Megatron doesn’t notice this time.

Ugh Brian Tyree Henry what is your voice doing to me !!!???😩

Y’all have been asking for this. I hope this fordilled your hunger for some more Megatron angst and toxic relationship with reader. Haha.

As always I hope you all enjoyed this and a repost is always appreciated. And like with the last part be sure to ask either through comments or messages for a next part if you guys want one. I am full of ideas that I will continue to serve for fellow fans of transformers. If you guys want this to also get more “Intimate” in a “certain way.” Just let me know. I don’t judge I’m the one writing.

Anyway hope you all have a good rest of your day and enjoy the next post!

[whatifitis]

♡ Naurrr Oscahhh - OP 81 ♡

Summary: can oscar properly wipe his own ass? that is the question ☝️

Author's Note: I couldn't tell you what possessed me to write this... also this is the worst thing i've written probably so sorry

WC: 988 + 1 instagram post at the end

CW: a bit of foul language, shit

It’s a bright, early beautiful morning in your apartment that you share with your boyfriend, Oscar. Today's the day! The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, your dog is sleeping, the bed sheet has shit stains, and today is gonna be a gre-

“The bed has shit stains?!” you scream, leaping out of bed to further inspect your beautiful, white, crisp bed sheets. 

What the fuck? How did my sheets get shit stains?! 

There’s only one person who could’ve done this… Oscar. 

The two of you hadn’t shared a space together for too long, only having just moved in together about a month ago, so you were still learning about each other's living habits. Like how Oscar steals all the hangers from your side of the wardrobe, or how he leaves his PlayStation games all over the coffee table. It honestly drives you mad, making you want to rip all your hair out. 

But this, this was a whole other fucking level. This is where you draw the line. Shit stains, on your favorite bed sheets. 

23 years old and he still doesn’t know how to wipe his own ass? Nah, mate. How can you love a man who can’t wipe? Imagine raising kids with this guy. There would be shit stains everywhere! 

You check the time and remember Oscar had a few meetings today so he wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. You knew you had to get to work  on disinfecting the bed, well maybe everything, immediately. He left a skid mark on the bed, god knows what else he’s done. 

You prepare for this treacherous job, putting on 3 layers of gloves and grabbing some soap and water. You stand over the bed, spraying a very generous amount of water and soap on the stain, contemplating your life choices. You managed to bag the hottest fucker alive… but he leaves skid marks around. 

After scrubbing the soap into the sheets with a sponge, you threw the sheets into the wash and threw your gloves and sponge into the trash. As soon as the lid to the trash closed, you shivered and stood as your skin erupted with goosebumps. 

Gross. 

Late into the afternoon, Oscar had arrived home. The unlocking of the door informed you of Oscar’s arrival, allowing you to get into position, standing with your arms crossed over your chest, positioned in front of the door. 

As soon as Oscar opened the door and his eyes met your figure, he raised his eyebrows. Before saying a word, he walks in, closes the door and sets his things on the counter before asking, “What’s up?”

“What’s up? That’s all you have to say?” 

“Um, yeah?” Oscar responds. 

What the fuck?

With a scoff, you prepare to let it out, “Oscar Jack Piastri”.

“Oh shit, full name. It’s serious.” you watch as he stands up straighter, his eyebrows slightly furrowing. 

“You left skid marks on the bed. My bed sheets. My beautiful, soft, white sheets! How could you? I thought you knew how to wipe your ass, otherwise I don’t think I would’ve agreed to dating you, let alone moving in!” you say, throwing your hands in the air out of frustration “God fucking knows if the stain will come off. Do you know how much those sheets cost? You’re paying for another set if these are fucked up forever cause of your disgusting ass.” 

“Um, love. I didn’t leave skid marks on the bed. I think I’d know if I did… and I didn’t.” he blinks. 

“Well if you didn’t, then who did. The fucking ghost that you claimed left the fridge door open all night?” you question, raising an eyebrow at him. 

Oscar just stands there unresponsive, just shifting his eyes from watching you to watching what is happening behind you on the floor. 

You turn around to be met with a sight for sore eyes. Yours and Oscar’s dog is currently dragging his ass across your new, and expensive, rug, leaving a very dark stain behind him as he scoots across the floor. 

Oscar comes to stand next to you, watching as your dog looks up at the two of you as if he hasn’t just ruined yet another one of your favorite pieces of decor in your apartment. You hear him chewing so you turn your head to look at him, watching as he’s eating a chocolate bar. 

“Where’d you get that?” you ask. 

“The fridge.”

“The fridge behind us? With the door left wide open?”

Both of you turn to look back at the fridge, which indeed is wide open.

“Yup” he says as you both turn back to look at the dog. 

You two stand there for a moment in silence before Oscar silently laughs, “You really thought it was me? And not the dog? That you know has had some digestion issues recently?”

“Yeah.” you stare blankly at your dog. 

“I’ve met bread smarter than you.”

“I’ve met guys with bigger dicks than you.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“No, I haven't,” you sigh in resignation. 

-=+=-

Liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 278,443 others

y/n_l/n guess who left skid marks on mom’s bed sheets AND RUG, and proceeded to blame dad 😍

View all comments

landnorris guess who’s no longer invited to my flat after he pissed right by my feet  😍

↪ oscarpiastri he said he was sorry 😔

↪ landonorris he didn’t look so sorry when he did it again when i was trying to flirt with a girl 🧍

↪ oscarpiastri it’s not like you were gonna pull her so 

↪ landonorris WHAT THE FAWK MATE?!?

User34 your honor, he’s innocent 

User52 what the fuck is wrong with your dog?!

↪ y/n_l/n WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH HIM

↪ User56 why does he look like he’s gonna ask me for feet pics… ↪ y/n_l/n blocked 🖐️

[vibraniumqueen]

Fate

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (soulmate AU)

Summary: Your soulmate isn't anything like you thought they'd be.

Warnings: Canon level violence, Canon compliant (so far), angst.

Word Count: 639

A/N: This is a series! I might keep it short, but if people love it enough I'll drag it out. If I do drag it out there may be eventual smut. I'll edit this post if that happens to include proper warnings.

Read part one here

The Wait

It had been years since you had seen him. Your soulmate. The only time you had ever seen him. Well, in real life anyway. After you returned home that day, you looked into the Winter Soldier, Hydra, and SHIELD to see what you could find out. It definitely helped that the news that Hydra fell was made public within hours of it happening. You guessed, no hoped, that he had only been their pawn. You came to believe that he must be Sargeant James Buchanan Barnes. Different theories abounded online about the identity of the Winter Soldier after everything that transpired. But you didn't need those to come to that conclusion. A shrine full of World War Two books, maps, figurines, and the like stood tall in the corner of your apartment. Well, the space wasn't very big since neither was your apartment. You definitely knew who Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and the rest of the Howling Commandos were though. Interest and curiosity of the heroes (and the war) had held you in its grip since you were a teenager. You studied that face enough times growing up to know that the Winter Soldier had to be him. Realization never dawned on you at the time you met him due to the shock of the situation. But shortly afterwards, you were sure of it.

Of course, as time passed it turned out that the Winter Soldier was indeed Sargeant James Barnes. You watched the news the day of King T'Chaka's assassination. Despite the heartbroken state you found yourself in after hearing the news, you were certain it couldn't have been him. Why on earth would he wear those clothes? He had never once dressed like that as the Winter Soldier. Why would he use a bomb? He was a sharp shooter. That would be way easier, more precise, and stealthier. Besides, he had been an assassin, not a terrorist. Not that either were a good thing. It just didn't make sense that it would have been him.

Luckily, it turned out it wasn't him. He had been framed. You heard the news on the tv that your soulmate had gone back on the run, back into hiding, after the fight between the Avengers. Years had already passed at that point, and you wondered when you were going to get to meet him properly.

You refused to date during this time. Plenty of people did while waiting for their soulmates. You had too, before you received your tattoo that night. But after seeing him the next day, and knowing he was real, you decided you would wait for him, however long that took.

After what felt like an eternity, the blip occurred. And you had disappeared with it. For five years. Five years the world kept moving on while half its population was gone. You weren't entirely sure if Bucky had disappeared in the blip too or not. It didn't really matter though, as you still hadn't met eachother since that first day.

You had seen his new vibranium arm though, and you half-expected your star tattoo to disappear and turn into something else. You were glad things seemed to be going better for him. You hoped he was happy. You just wished you could be there to make him happy yourself.

You stayed in your apartment in Brooklyn. Hoping that one day you might see him here, since it was his hometown. So far, of course, you had had no such luck. Your days blurred together, working retail and coming home just to give yourself enough time to mentally rest yourself before the next shift. You didn't have a very exciting life, but it didn't matter. You kept yourself busy. That way you didn't have time to think about what you might be missing out on. You just hoped that someday soon you could finally meet him again. Properly, this time.

[dsireland86]

Hello! I have a dad!Noah request that i cant stop thinking about!!

Can you please do something where bad omens is playing a show and its Noah’s daughters 1 year birthday, his daughter and wife are up in the balcony of the venue watching the show and Noah points them out to the crowd and does something special for his daughters first birthday? 🤍

This has been a long time coming! Thank you to the Anon, who requested this and has waited so respectfully and patiently for me to get it out. 🤗🤗🤗

1st Birthday

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12@sister-sebastian

The birth of his baby girl was the proudest day of Noah's life, next to marrying you. Even though the birth plan didn't go as expected and there was a close call, everything turned out just fine in the end. His daughter was the most perfect thing in the world to him, next to you, of course. She looked like you, except she had a full head of dark hair like Noah's and his brown eyes, instead of your green.

As Baby Davis grew, she became the apple of her Daddy's eye. Noah spoiled her rotten, not just with things, but with his love, too. When she cried in the middle of the night for whatever reason, Noah got up with you, and unless she fell asleep on you, he was the one to get her back to sleep. Middle of the night cuddles were some of Noah's favorites.

Now, it was her 1st birthday, and unfortunately, Noah and the guys were on the road. Noah hated it, grumbled, and complained the whole day because he should've been home, celebrating his baby girl's 1st birthday. Already having a plan in motion, you kindly told him you understood that the date couldn't be changed because of availability and that there would be plenty more birthdays to celebrate. Your love, patience, and understanding were things Noah never took for granted. Brushing tears away, he hung up the phone, completely oblivious to the smiles on his bandmates' faces.

The show that night had begun. Noah tried to give it all, suppressing the feelings of sadness for not being with you and his daughter, but it just didn't work. What was worse was that Noah hadn't heard from you since early this morning, sending his head reeling with the worst thoughts. His heart was hurting a little too much tonight, and it was starting to show.

As the smoke cleared and the clear lights came on, Jolly stepped out on the stage first, strumming the soft chords of the band's most popular song. Noah teared up again, not sure if he could go out and just pretend he was fine when he wasn't. But he looked out and saw all the many, many faces of the people who came to see him and his bandmates and realized he owed it to them.

When his tear-filled eyes scanned the balcony, they stopped quickly, paralyzing Noah where he stood. The faces staring down at him were a blur at first, but after clearing his eyes, he saw them standing there beyond all the noise and lights. You were standing directly in the middle of the balcony, holding your daughter, who was nothing but a bouncing bundle of happiness. You waved to him smiling and blowing him a kiss, making him smile in return as he pretended to catch your kiss.

Noah was in shock as questions ran through his mind, questions like how you managed to get here so fast, did any of the guys have a hand in this, and why would you go through all of this trouble? Whatever the answers were, he didn't care at the moment. All he wanted to do was go out there and perform his best for the fans who paid money to come see his band play.

Noah gripped the microphone stand, holding it as if it was the very thing keeping him up at the moment. He looked over at Jolly, unable to hide the tears glistening in his eyes. He smiled at his friend who grinned back at him, making Noah huff a light laugh. When the bridge came, Noah looked up and waved to his family, laughing when you took your daughter's hand and waved back at you. The little girl giggled and bounced in her mama's arms, making Noah's heart well with pride and joy.

"I want everyone to do me a favor. Pull out your phones, lighters, whatever you have, and hold them up in the air as high as you can get them. Good, good, very nice, good job. Now, if you would look toward the balcony, directly in the middle and wave to my sweet family, who've flown all the way out here to see us perform tonight." The crowd did as Noah asked, making you feel completely embarrassed. Noah smiled, laughing as you glared at him with your dark green eyes. "Hold on, love I'm not finished," he said to you, and the place erupted with light laughter. "Tonight is the most special night of this band's history, you wanna know why? Because that precious little girl up there, being held by her mama, my wife, is turning a year old today." The entire venue filled with applauses, whistles and shouts of happy birthday

By this time, Nick, Jolly, and Folio had paused the song, waiting for what was coming next, already having a pretty good idea. "I need y'all to help me sing "Happy Birthday" to my baby girl. Her daddy had to be here tonight and it really hurt me to be away from her on such a momentous occasion. But lucky for me, I married a woman who is the kindest, most caring, most loving and of course, the most beautiful person I know. She made it possible for me to celebrate the life of my daughter tonight with my family. So, please help me sing.

The crowd came to life, louder than they had that night as Matt embarrassed you even more by putting a spotlight on the two of you. Noah watched how you focused your attention on Baby Davis, watching the beautiful glow of your aura shine brightly. He suddenly needed to be near you.

Jumping from the stage and making his way through the crowd, Noah climbed the staircase to the balcony, thankful to the people who parted and made a way for him to get straight to the two of you. He gathered both of you up in his arms and kissed you hard yet so full of passion and it took your breath away. "I love you, so fucking much," he laughed, laying his forehead on yours. He took his daughter from you, kissing her sweet little cheeks and hugging her tightly. The audience cheered, making Noah's heart flutter with happiness and making this the best show Bad Omens had ever played.

[ramblinscramblin]

Hi! I loved how you wrote Sniper in the dating headcanons post. Your characterization of him is on point!

Could I please request how Sniper would act in the first instances of dating the reader? Thank you so much, have a good day!

→Honeymoon phase with Sniper!

Genre: slice of life, fluff, the slightest of angst

Characters: Sniper ofc

Eek!! Thank you so much, it’s so very obvious how much I favor him, haha! Let’s get this show on the road!

Sniper

Gets most his cues from you, he’s not so used to being in long committed relationships like the two of you have agreed on, so he’s mostly following your lead.

He can seem pretty apathetic in relationships at first, you have to really understand him as a person to know his true feelings and idiosyncrasies.

Early into relationships he almost pretends that he isn’t dating you, doesn’t make many alterations to your relationship besides occasionally holding your hand and kissing you.

He’s absurdly awkward, but he hides it by being quiet, can’t say the wrong thing if you don’t say anything at all amirite.

“Hey Snipes do you want to go out for dinner tonight?”

He looked at you for a moment before answering “yup.”

You’re gonna have to be okay with planning all the dates and carrying all the conversations for a little while.

Incredibly insecure during intimate moments, not just during sex, but like just private moments between the two of you.

Always afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, this manifests mostly as inaction, but may make some jokes at his expense about it too. Mostly under his breath comments, things said in a laugh, he would die before he was honest about how he felt.

You may allow him to make the jokes as a sort of way to alleviate his stress, or alternatively you could express that you don’t like hearing him say that kind of stuff about himself, in which case he will stop immediately.

He would do whatever you told him to do, even if he protests against that idea to the moon and back.

Whenever you initiate physical contact with him he freezes, like full on holding his breath. He’s afraid that if he moves you’ll stop.

One night he was sat at the edge of the bed, just sort of staring zoning out as he is one to do.

You came over hands on your hips before gently racking a hand through his hair, bonus points if you call him handsome or something of the like.

Will totally blue screen, face bright red and just stopped his tracks. Whatever thought he was having vanishing into thin air. Secretly praying you don’t notice because if you do you’re going to think he’s weird and stop.

“Relax a little Snipes, this is supposed to be the fun bit,” you say gently.

“I-I’m relaxed, mate. All too relaxed.”

“Right, right.”

He’s pretty shit at communication as I’m sure you’ve gathered, will bottle things up until it all boils over, I could see it causing some problems later into the relationship.

Just be patient, it’s worth it.

He’s pretty clingy right off the bat, again hides this in his own way but it’s glaringly obvious. You’re the only person he’s been able to tolerate this long he’s pretty eager to keep you around.

You stood up on the couch, patting your thighs as you did so.

He flicked his head towards you in an instant “where are you going?”

“Oh,” you turned towards him, surprised as his silent strike has suddenly come to an end “just to the kitchen.” You pointed over you shoulder with your thumb.

He stood up and walked over to the kitchen, waiting for you against one of the counters, staring at the floor. You just kind of blink at him confused for a second. This is his van. The kitchen is quite literally a foot away from the couch and he still managed to follow you. He’s so sick.

Still calls you mate even well into the relationship, only starts calling you “darl’” and “love” about a year into your relationship. Even then he still probably calls you mate a lot.

He’s just really smitten with you and is absolutely trying his best.

Omg THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST THIS WAS A DELIGHT TO WRITE. I love this FUCKING dumbass so much. (≧∀≦)

[blue-eyed-beastie]

Oh my goodness! This is it!! Thank you for this!

I was able to find the original novel through Project Gutenberg. It's free to read on any web browser! Helpful hint: If you use Firefox, it gives you the option to translate it automatically (but with varied and sometimes hilarious results).

Anyway, as far as I can tell, the story is told through a series of letters. The excerpt from Belle's book is from a letter written by one Annette Bourdon to her friend Adelaide Fairlie, dated 19 September at Les Frênes (in case you want to look up the exact chapter, since they aren't numbered).

I won't include the entire translation, because it is quite long, but it's worth the read. By the way, I'm not at all disappointed that my earlier guesses about the context were wrong. I'm just thrilled that someone else knew what the excerpt was from so that I could read it in its entirety!

For those who don't have the time to read it right now, the summary of it is that Annette is discussing her engagement to Paul, and what has happened since, and how she feels about it. She also wonders what comes after marriage (and yes, she means the bedroom!):

There must be novels that talk about these situations, novels that I'm forbidden to read. As soon as I'm married, I'll read everything that's been forbidden to me; so I will be informed and I will know what I must do, in case of necessity. I am determined to be very good to my husband, but I would not want to cause anyone unnecessary pain. If someone courts me, I will be happy. I like to be looked at, and to be talked to. All alone, I get bored and sometimes I have done extravagances to attract attention. I told you about the one in the river, but it was my sister who had the idea. No matter, I see that the idea was not bad, because it is since that moment that Paul began to look at me with completely new eyes. As for me, if I saw a naked man swimming on the surface of the water, it would frighten me and I would start running. Men are braver; they are not even afraid at all. They both seemed ecstatic, and I almost laughed, which would have made me drink water and drown. What a pity, but what an opportunity for Paul to fish me out and hold me in his arms, like a languid siren!

Ah, the languid siren that was mentioned at the beginning of the excerpt! One translation suggested "mermaid", which I actually prefer in this context, since sirens tend to want to drown their victims. Mermaids, not so much! (See: The Little Mermaid, as a case in point.)

Now, I won't quote the entire excerpt again, but I did want to know what the very last fragmented sentence turned out to be, so I will include it below in its full context, plus a little more:

Paul is more handsome than I have ever seen him before. He is pale with large eyes full of fever and love. I find him sublime when he kneels down beside me to look at me as if in prayer. I want to pray to him too, sometimes, and to lay my cheek on his knees, but when I have that desire, I get angry with myself and I sulk at Paul. It is very difficult to keep a man within the bounds of respect. He addressed me informally once; I did not like that. No one has ever addressed me as "tu" [you] except women. In the mouth of a man, this familiarity seemed unbearable to me. Nothing vulgar pleases me. A woman must be a queen to be completely a woman. This is the attitude I want to take from now on; even when I play hide-and-seek, people feel that I am a princess and they do not pull me carelessly by my crumpled dress. I turned eighteen the day before yesterday. At that age, one has a scepter or a fairy wand. When I laugh, there are eyes that are worried; and when I smile, people look at me to share in my smile.

The last of Annette's letter sees her looking forward to marriage, but wishing this feeling would last. She ends with this last romantic thought:

I feel that I am embarking on a long pleasure voyage. Everything laughs. Autumn itself is spring-like this year. There are languors of the month of May and freshness of new grass. One would say that it rains love every night…

While there are no sword fights or magic spells in this one, there seems to be plenty of romance, and that's all right with me. ❤️

A Closer Look at Belle's Book: Part II

In Part I, I went into some detail about the illustration inside Belle's book, but now I want to turn the page, so to speak.

Thanks to the magic of 4K, I was able to zoom in on some details in Beauty and the Beast that I had never noticed before, and this time I wanted to see what story Belle was reading. I've seen theories that it was either foreshadowing Aladdin or referencing Sleeping Beauty, and I myself noticed that it bears some artistic resemblance to Snow White... but it turns out that it has nothing to do with Disney, or its fairy tales.

It's something else entirely, and it's in French!

After zooming in and studying each frame, I managed to make out the following text:

une languissante sirene! Enfin, il sera bientôt heureux, si c'est là ce qui doit causer son bonheur. Je sais que je suis agréable à regarder, puisque j'y ai du plaisir moi-même, et de ce plaisir je ne priverai pas mon mari, au contraire. Je ne sais si je l'aimerai, je l'espère; mais je veux qu'il m'aime lui, et je ferai pour lui plaire tout ce qui lui plaira. Ah! chère Adélaïde, je suis pleine de rêves absurdes et de pensées contradictoires! Je songe à des choses qui me semblent à la fois douces et vilaines, et j'ai des imaginations qui me font rougir en même temps que pleurer! Au moins, je ne m'ennuie pas. Je vis plus en une heure de ces journées que l'an passé je ne vécus en toute l'année. Chaque heure me renouvelle, me grandit et m'épanouit. Je me semble un rosier qui fleur rirait à vue d’œil, je suis fraîche et parfumée; je suis légère et forte: j'attends le bonheur. Paul est plus beau que je ne l'avais encore jamais tu. Il est pâle avec de grands yeux pleins de fièvre et d'amour. Je le trouve sublime quand il s'agenouille près de moi pour me regarder comme en prière. J'ai envie de le prière aussi, parfois, et de coucher ma joue sur ses genoux, mais quand j'ai cette envie-la, je me fâché contre moi-meme et je boude Paul.

Which, roughly translated into English, means:

a languid siren! Finally, he will soon be happy, if that is what will make him happy. I know that I am pleasant to look at, since I take pleasure in it myself, and of this pleasure I will not deprive my husband, on the contrary. I do not know if I will love him, I hope so; but I want him to love me, and I will do whatever he pleases to please him. Ah! dear Adelaide, I am full of absurd dreams and contradictory thoughts! I think of things that seem to me both sweet and ugly, and I have fantasies that make me blush and cry at the same time! At least, I am not bored. I live more in one hour of these days than I lived in the whole year last year. Each hour renews me, makes me grow and blossom. I seem to myself a rosebush that blooms laughing before my eyes, I am fresh and fragrant; I am light and strong: I await happiness. Paul is more handsome than I have ever seen him before. He is pale with big eyes full of fever and love. I find him sublime when he kneels down next to me to look at me as if in prayer. I want to pray to him too, sometimes, and to lay my cheek on his knees, but when I have this desire, I get angry with myself and I sulk at Paul.

By the way, there is one more sentence (maybe even two) at the bottom of the page that is partially obscured by Belle's shoulder and right hand. It may or may not be important to the rest of the excerpt, but for completion's sake, I'll share it here:

Il est ... maintenir un homme dans les ...

Which translates to:

He is ... to keep a man in the ...

Intriguing, isn't it? What was she trying to say?

Overall, the author appears to be an unwed woman dreaming of her future marriage to a man named Paul. Her confidante is someone named Adelaide, but I suspect she is actually writing to herself. Regardless, she is either betrothed to Paul or she longs to be, since she calls him her husband. Perhaps it is an arranged marriage? She goes on to dwell upon his handsomeness, and how she longs to be close to him, but then she gets angry at herself for feeling this way. The last line of the passage is incomplete, but my best guess is that the author is saying that Paul is not to blame for her sulking, so it is not right to keep a man in the dark, i.e. ignorant. I could be wrong, though. In any case, she is conflicted about her feelings on the matter. You could even say that her feelings are "new, and a bit alarming".

I can see why the filmmakers chose this passage for Belle's book.

It may not be a fairy tale, but it certainly has elements from the film. There are references to beauty, roses, imagination, and eyes filled with love, and passion.

Belle:

"Oh, isn't this amazing? It's my favorite part because—you’ll see Here's where she meets Prince Charming But she won't discover that it's him 'til Chapter Three!"

Do the lyrics match the story hinted at on the page itself? No, but I really respect the filmmakers for going out of their way to include this kind of detail in the film. They could have taken the easy way out, by writing out something like "Once upon a time" to echo the opening narration, or used "Lorem ipsem" Latin filler, or even meaningless brush strokes just to fill the page... but they didn't. They chose something in French that Belle herself might have liked to read. And I think that's really cool.

[thewardenisonthecase]

Early Morning

Lucanis Dellamorte x Grey Warden!Rook

Part two of Rest Easy

Read on AO3

Summary: The one in which everyone knows.

A/N: Small bonus chapter.

Bellara had woken up quite early, even if she had gone to sleep late, staying awake most of the night reading her serials. 

The downside of that was that her mind was quite foggy in the morning, and considering she had a full day ahead of her, she needed to clear her head. 

And what better way, she thought, than a nice cup of coffee. 

Slowly, she made her way to the kitchen. Lucanis never slept, which meant he would probably have some spare coffee to give her. Or maybe even brew a new one for her, as he often did. 

However, when Bellara entered the kitchen, she was surprised to see Lucanis wasn’t there. She called out his name but received no reply. 

Had by some miracle Lucanis slept through the night? Or worse, had Spite escaped with him? What if he was lost somewhere? 

Thoughts like these began to infiltrate Bellara’s mind when she heard snoring coming from the pantry. Instinctively, she decided to go check in there. Although it probably meant that Lucanis was asleep, she just wanted to make sure her friend was doing alright (and to reassure her anxious mind). 

She quietly opened a bit of the door, enough to take a peak, and as soon as she did, she had to stop herself from gasping. 

Lucanis was asleep…and on top of him was Rook. They were holding each other quite strongly, like one would grab a pillow when dreaming, not wanting to let go. 

Bellara couldn’t help but think this was just like her romance novels. For some time, she had noticed how Lucanis and Rook had been spending more and more time together. The stolen glances, the sighs. One night, when Rook was more intoxicated than usual, she had even confessed to Bellara about having a crush on him, but thinking it wouldn’t lead anywhere. She felt the same as she did when she read those romance novels in which the couple took too long to get together, internally screaming ‘just kiss him’ whenever she saw the two of them around the Lighthouse making eyes at each other. 

Now, Bellara felt like she was reading the conclusion to the story, when  the protagonists finally admitted their love and spent the night together. 

‘Wait, no, don’t think about that about your friends, Bellara.’ She thought. ‘I should go before one of them wakes up.’ 

She carefully took a step back, closing the door with the utmost caution. She sighed in relief, until she heard a voice behind her. 

“Don’t think about what?” Harding had asked. 

“Oh, Lace! I-I didn’t see you there.” Bellara said nervously, realizing she had spoken out loud.  “What are you doing here, it’s so early.” 

Harding raised a brow. “This is the time I usually wake up to drink coffee.” She pointed towards the door. “Is Lucanis inside, I need-”

“No!” Bellara shouted, barring the door. “I mean, uh, he can’t do coffee right now.” 

At that moment, Neve walked into the kitchen, having heard what Bellara said. 

“Why? Is he sick?” She crossed her arms. “And why are you standing like that over the door?” 

Bellara began to sweat in panic. “No, he’s just…he well, uhm, he asked me, to-to not let anyone in. He didn’t want to be bothered this early.” 

“Truly?” Neve said, a brow raised in disbelief. “I remember Lucanis usually being very awake at this hour.” 

“Well, he-he told me he wanted to sleep in today.” 

Harding’s eyes widened. “This truly is the weirdest time to be alive.” 

Neve gave Bellara a sympathetic look. “Look, Bel, you’re a great friend, so I say this with no malice. You’re a terrible liar.” 

Bellara sighed. 

“Why are we hanging out in the kitchen?” Taash said, as they too entered. 

“We, uh,-” 

“Bellara, dear, is everything alright there? You seem quite distressed.” Emmrich asked her, having followed behind Taash. 

“Professor! Everything’s good, I just-”

“Has anyone seen Rook?” Finally, Davrin walked in and Bellara lost it. 

“THEY’RE IN THE PANTRY!” Bellara shouted. “Lucanis and Rook are sleeping in the pantry!” 

Silence befell the kitchen as everyone stared at Bellara. 

“What?!” Davrin asked in disbelief.

“Oh my…” Emmrich covered his mouth with his hand. 

“So that’s why you were acting weird.” Neve said

“When you say sleeping…”  Taash began “do you mean-”

“Like Rook on top of Lucanis. The two holding each other like teddy bears.” Bellara said hurriedly. 

“They were definitely doing it.” 

“Taash!” Harding reprimanded. “Not everything is sex.”

“But it sounds like it!” They defended themselves. “I mean-”

Before they could continue, the door to the pantry swung open, and an angry Rook looked at all of them.

“Can you all keep it quiet?! Some of us are trying to sleep.” 

The door to the pantry closed with a bang, and the sound of a key being turned was heard as all hell broke loose in the kitchen. 

Rook sighed, turning to Lucanis, who had a tired smile on his lips. “I think they all know about us now.” 

“It was bound to happen.” 

She flicked her wrist, casting a silencing spell on the door, to cut off the noise of the banging and shouting from the other side. She walked towards him, sitting on the bed. “You do know that means they’ll talk, right?” 

He shrugged. “Let them. As long as I have you with me, I do not mind.” 

Rook smirked. “Charmer.” She gave him a small and quick peck on his cheek before saying. “Now lay down again. I have a week’s worth of sleep to make up.”

He chuckled, resuming the position they were in. “As you wish.”

[kinki-cami]

Nah because i would FLORISH being an independent in affini society

Like first off, im not isolated immediately that brings me up by like 45% like i can go see that forest, hang out with the (hopefully not going to bite me or give me rabies) animals pet some squirrels say hi to the hummingbirds, i can go into public and walk around, id honestly probably start skipping bc thats what ive imagined so far considering i wouldnt be as depressed as i am now

Secondly, FULL customization of what i wear just be able to look how i want without fear, probably wear my denim look but with some extra like, an ACTUAL denim skirt that looks nice, maybe makeup if i was feeling up to it

Thirdly, just exploration. This is pretty much the miscellaneous second of this post. Because theres probably no money (i assume i need to do more research) before i get to that i fuckin love research i would know every fuckin affini custom by year 5, anyway because of presumeably no money, fake shop at the mall bc hell yeah fuckin love the mall its like a mini city, youd go in like you were going to the mall and like fake "check out" with like a fake credit card or something and yahh fun but also id just like go get coffee, possibly some matcha, skip around town wearing heels WITH my denim outfit, looking all fuckin cute, go see the plants (not affini like houseplants like mint) fuck id grow some bleeding hearts, some mint, make sure to pick up plant food, bc even tho i CAN do it in the hab unit, its more fun leaving to pick stuff up, it gives you a sense of accomplishment like "yahhhh i did something today 🥰 (its a crime theres no 'fist pump' emoji, i swear there are more useless emojis than practical ones)" and because i wouldnt be in one location for 6+ hours a day (excluding sleep) i would have time to do things that i WANNA do, like finish that pokemon book that im only on kakuna out of pecharunt. And i could drink my coffee/tea and go to the game store and play magic with peoples or pokemon, i could go play some dnd, write my damn books, skip around in heels bc skipping is happy but i wanna wear heels soo yahhhh

Yeah i may occassionally get harrassed but like if im polite and express boundries im sure theyll leave me alone or at least relatively along

By the way im going based off of the two stories ive read so far aight, so if this is very biased aight. Too bad i need to read more. But also like, i can express myself two 2 stories ok? Like a girl can fantasize anyway back my fantasy

Eventually id want an affini to adopt me but like, god id be pretty happy without drugs theyd need to actively make my life miserable to make me want the drugs, like, damn. Also with the number of times im cursing in this post any and all affini rp blogs are gonna be like "stop fucking cursing little indie" and to be fair i dont like cursing at people the only time i do is when im expressing myself or am pissed off i never call anyone curse words because its mean and i dont like being mean 🥺

Uhh and i think thats all my thoughts god i had Sadistic glee read the bonus chapters of hdg a bit ago anyway gotta gp finish those, then go finish the other one that im halfway through then go read more, if anyone has any not emotionally wrecking stories feel free to send them via asks or something like i dont wanna see characters despairing but i dont mind seeing their personality erased, as long as the struggle isnt super visible or is minimal

[livi-in-digital-circus]

The Abuse || a short Bunnydoll angsty story

I wrote this only because I'm having worse days now (also I started writing the new fic but I'm already stuck at the beginning of TwT)

TW: abuse

Through the glass wall of the infirmary, Ragatha stared at the guests of the Digital Circus. Once in a while, people from the real world had the chance to meet their favorite characters in person, not knowing that they were actually normal humans just like them. It was unfair that they could go home the moment their visit ended. But that was what the circus was all about. Every single member of the crew was an animal trapped in a cage, released only to perform silly and often dangerous acts.

And since Caine was especially busy when they had visitors, Ragatha couldn’t ask him to help her get back to her pristine self. Instead, she had to spend the entire day under the care of a nurse-like NPC who stuffed her with more pills, like painkillers, hour after hour. Even though the rag doll didn’t seem to have any bones in her plush body, she felt like her bruised arm was broken. Not to mention that she had vomited at least three times that day and felt dizzy all the time.

It was a pure torture.

The girls in the main area were loud enough for Ragatha to hear what they were saying, so she leaned carefully against the wall. Due to her current state, she wasn’t allowed to greet the visitors. After all, Caine had to keep the reputation of the circus at its best, and if anyone found out there was a serious case of abuse going on behind the scenes, he would lose everything he had worked on for years.

“Did you see the way he looked at me? I’m definitely his type!” One of the girls exclaimed. Her digital avatar resembled a cute Lolita-style doll, making her look like an innocent angel. Another one, Ragatha thought.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t mention our shrines full of his limited merch.” The other said, her cat ears and tail moving on their own from time to time. “But then again, who wouldn’t want lots of Jax for themselves?”

Ragatha trembled. These two clearly had no idea who they were talking about. Judging by their behavior and appearance, they were mostly underage and delusional. The rag doll looked at her arm again. She should be jealous, it was her boyfriend who was the center of attention that day.

Instead, she felt anger, especially when she heard the girls mention all the things they wanted Jax to do to them. Ragatha smiled bitterly to herself, the familiar metallic taste tickling her tongue. She had lived too long in the circus to understand today’s teenagers. Some of them were born into rich families and had everything they could wish for. It could be anything, like an expensive dress worn by many famous models, or a bottle of sweet-smelling limited edition perfume. And yet they chose to be used by none other than Jax.

Little do they know that he is a real abuser.

And abuse is not something you should wish for.

Year after year, the rabbit became more mentally unstable. Several times he promised Ragatha that he would change, that he would try to be a better boyfriend. She was very proud of Jax when he managed to go a whole week without hurting her. But when she was about to visit him in his room after one of their adventures to watch a movie, she found him torturing the little version of herself that she had made for him to hug when he felt alone.

Caine had no idea how to fix Jax. His first assumption was that he would soon abstract, but Ragatha quickly shook her head. That had been going on for a long time, with no clear signs of improvement. However, she didn’t feel any hatred for Jax, even though she was sore and bruised the last few days. She knew it was because of his poor mental health and that inside he was still the bunny she had fallen in love with.

The girls disappeared from her view after a while. Ragatha groaned as she made her way back to bed. All she wanted was to fall asleep and wake up the next day. The moment her head touched the pillow, she heard someone enter the infirmary.

“Feeling better?” Jax sat on the edge of the bed, his gloved hand gently stroking the bandage on the rag doll’s cheek. Ragatha shivered, yet her lover’s soothing touch was all she needed at the moment.

“Still a little sore, but it’s okay. Did you enjoy the meeting with the viewers?”

“Not really, this group was annoying as hell.”

“I don’t like what those girls said about you.” Though Ragatha didn’t want to tell him exactly what. She knew Jax felt bad after each time he lost control and hurt her, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable now that he was temporarily sane again.

Jax let out a soft laugh and pressed his lips to Ragatha’s forehead. God, she loved his kisses so much.

“I actually brought you something to drink. You must be thirsty after I… you know.”

Ragatha gladly accepted the water bottle and began to pour the liquid into her mouth. But just as she was about to stop, she felt Jax’s hands suddenly tighten around her neck, causing her to cough and choke. The taste of water and blood mixed sickeningly in her mouth.

Jax knew it was only a matter of time before she started vomiting all over the circus from the ‘water’ he gave her.

Everyone told Ragatha to break up with Jax, but she was too kindhearted to do that. He was mentally ill and she wanted to help him. She hoped that one day everything would be okay, that her boyfriend would overcome this.

And before that happens, she would be tortured in many more different ways for the next few weeks, months, or maybe even years.

Still, Ragatha would manage to survive all this. It was impossible to die in Digital Circus after all.

Thanks for reading!

(I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me for writing this ;-;)

[bratzcoded]

why am i still here lol.

this is a little long post! at the end is a little vent(?) so ill put a 'read more' divider before it :P.

last night i tried what i can only describe i guess as my own method. i was pretty sure i believed everything i said and that it would work, but here i am, still in my cr.

heres what i did. i was very emotional (a bit angry) and i wrote this in my notebook "i dont care what anyone says, not even the little voices in my head that want to doubt me. everything i write on this paper is true." then i wrote a set of affirmations such as "im shifting tonight" "i shift in my sleep" "i shift easily" "ill be in my dr by tonight" "i shifted tonight" i wrote these down MULTIPLE times until the paper was full. then, i said them out loud and went to take a shower.

i said them out loud before going to bed, and a little while after while i was in bed. i also wrote in this calender book i have on that date, that day would be the day i would shift. i put the book beside my bed (on my desk) and i ripped out the paper and put it under my pillow for good measure

do i need to do this, do i need to do that? i told myself no. all i need is this journal writing, the scheduling and to go to sleep and let it happen. but it didnt happen!

sometimes i feel like crying when it comes to shifting. i want to suceed SO BAD. i need to be in my dr, not want to. and i know it shouldnt be too hard, all i need is myself. hell, i could even lay down in bed and say "im in my dr" and ill be there. and i think thats so magical and i want to believe i can do that so easily but for some reason its hard for me?

i dont know how to reprogam my mind to believe these things, and i just wanna give up on shifting and take a break but at the same time my dr is there and i want to be there as soon as possible. plus in my dr ill be going to college next year but i want to be with my friends and s/o in my last year of highschool even though i scripted that we'll get in the same college. im just itching to be there. i HAVE to be there. i feel like my time is running out and im not getting anywhere with shifting even though i want to. help? thoughts? tips?

[billysgirllol]

“mhm.” got what from his mother? being entirely wrong and insane? “hard to believe you did that.” the songbird muses, bitterly thinking how he has no heart for himself let alone anyone else. “last i checked…tigris, you and grandma’am all shared a condo. the snow penthouse.” lucy gray reminds since he’s out of his mind and can’t even think for himself. “you never spoke highly about your grandmother even back then. and she didn’t take a likin’ to me much either, so that makes sense.” of all things, he does seem to remember this information about his hateful grandma. “except— you did. you did attack me first in the woods the last time. so i came prepared this time.” dumbass, she bites her tongue from blurting that last word like she almost does. “lucy. my full name is lucy gray, you know that.” annoyingly glaring off to the side, “i don’t know what you meant before.” because at times, she was using him too— in the beginning. a part of her did spark care and love in her heart for him, there was a glimmer of it but it didn’t engulf her because she knew something wasn’t honest about him. she knew something was OFF. those bad feelings extinguished any forming burning love in her chest for him the second she began to sense those red flags arise, even long before he started shooting at her or lied to her. it’s complicated on how to put it in words, because at times her heart did flutter when he was kind to her and kind to maude ivory. when they exchanged kisses and that day at the lake— but all of that died and to her, he very well could’ve just been faking it all which makes it easier to pretend those feelings never happened. “course i cared for you, but i began realizin’ you aren’t the noble person i thought you were and i don’t go for people like that. a liar with a bad heart is a quick way to turn me off.” so in other words, no, she doesn’t have feelings for him anymore. if his kind acts were genuine like the acts he’s doing now, then she certainly would’ve changed her mind. it’s a weird feeling, seeing him be nice to her, it serves to irritate her even more because she would’ve liked coriolanus to be this person but instead he was a monster. is a monster. “there’s one on my upper arm,” covered by her sleeve on her left arm, “and a few cuts on my legs. but those’ll be fine...” she claims even though they aren’t as she watches him slip the sock onto her foot.

“i wish i knew.” wishin’ she knew why so many born in the capitol are so heartless, tigris may be the only one that isn’t. “must be where you get it from, then.” his father. “tigris is alive, you should know…” the brunette mumbles, hands nervously raking through her damp curls. “well, that is rude cause i never attacked you first. you killed people, lied about who you killed, was goin’ to kill me. don’t act like you’re the innocent one here.” lucy gray bitterly speaks, brows creasing at him in anger. sounds like coriolanus lives beneath there, after all, it looks like. “i attacked you because you tried to shoot me a thousand times the last time we saw each other. ‘course i attacked you.” a scoff sounds from her, irritably watching him come closer. “i don’t mean anything to him. to you.” growing frustrated he almost keeps getting away with tricking her like he wants. it’s bizarre how alike he is to coriolanus but isn’t coriolanus. except, he is— cause that’s all a lie. “i won’t if you don’t try killin’ me first.” she mumbles, keeping her knife right behind her, sitting on it. saying that just to flinch when his hand wraps around her ankle, feeling like he’s trying to restrain her, capture her or something but realizing he’s just moving her foot to the water. what an even weirder image this is… coriolanus taking care of her blisters and weirdly caring about the state of her skin. staring and staring… trying to figure him out. different mannerisms, different hair color, different clothing. but the same face and the same hands with just more wear and tear to his callouses, probably all designed to throw her off guard like her mind is currently doing… spinning. peering into his eyes is what’s so haunting most of all.

[theswedishpajas]

🌞👆♑️👇🌜