#Tell me this isn't a declaration of intent
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simplybybea · 5 months ago
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Did this before I'd even finished Prodigy season 2 so here is some angsty commitment rock and its tether to a ghostly Chakotay trying to get home.
Digital oil and Janeway asking the universe desperately to send him home to her.
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anotherlongstoryshort · 4 months ago
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Things about the Wisdom Saga that have plagued me all damn day
Legendary
Whether intentional or not, Miguel's Telemachus really sounds like a younger version of Jorge's Odysseus. And that hurts.
"If I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?" The layers. Could he go out and hunt for his father? Could he find his 'legendary' strength within himself? Or will Odysseus be the 'monster' he finds?
"Somebody help me, come and give me the strength" And his call is answered T_T
20 years.
Antinous fully interrupts this bop. Rude.
Ayron sounds legitimately scary and Telemachus taking a stand is so O.O
Little Wolf
I wanna fight this guy. Love that Athena agrees. (The beat of the song and sharp bursts of vocals really emulate blows.)
The quaver on "I don't know how".
Athena is immediately charmed by Telemachus' enthusiasm. She sounds so fond.
The fact she sees heart in him as an advantage when it was Odysseus choosing heart over mind that drove them apart. Guh.
Did she tell him to bite Antinous? XD
"Oh, maybe I pushed you a bit too hard." The change in her perspective is already so apparent - she wouldn't have admitted a mistake or miscalculation to Odysseus.
We'll Be Fine
"I had a friend before..." A FRIEND? FRIEND?!?!
An admission that she didn't fully appreciate what Odysseus was going through, that she feels guilty for having "missed it all".
It's unclear to begin with if she's come to Telemachus for Odysseus, or to try and replace him. Both are equally heart-breaking.
"I don't know who your friend is, I don't know what he's like" UNKNOWINGLY ECHOING HIS OWN THOUGHTS IN 'LEGENDARY'. NO IT'S FINE I'M FINE.
"The best day of my life because I got in a fight and I didn't die! :D" Telemachus, child, please.
"We'll be fine" using the same run as "this is my goodbye" T_T
Him immediately offering up friendship to Athena, like Odysseus once did, must hit her so hard. "You're a good kid." Yes he is - because he's more like his dad than he knows.
Love in Paradise
"Old friend..." FRRRRRIIIIEEEENNNNNDDDDD!!!!!
10 years.
The memory fragments sounding so fraught and chaotic together, hitting harder because they're hitting Athena all at once. She missed a lot.
"She's my wife." "Anyways..." Calypso, girl, please.
Love that they're singing completely different melodies through the first half of this song for two reasons: because Odysseus is revisiting previous motifs, once more trying to hold onto the man he was, and also because it shows Calypso is not willing to compromise on what she wants.
"Last I checked goddesses can't die." We'll come back to this later.
Then Odysseus realises he is truly trapped and he sings along to Calypso's melody in muted horror.
POLITIES OUT HERE STILL HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE.
Just the words "open arms" are enough to confront Odysseus (again) with all he's lost. All he hears are screams.
And the one he screams out for is Athena.
"He needs my help." NO KIDDING GO GET YOUR BOY.
God Games
"Father, God, King..." There's a lot to unpack in that fun family dynamic.
"To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?" Zeus is like, nobody likes that guy, why do you care?
The gods being called out like X Factor finalists is everything.
So there's a great contrast against the previous song - unlike Calypso, Athena is matching each of her singing partners with their tone and beat as she convinces them. She isn't winning by 'imposing her will', she's meeting them where they are.
Rational arguments work until Aphrodite, where Athena says "please" for the first time. She softens to appeal to Aphrodite, which is why Ares has to step in.
The way she says his name XD
Ares' lines sound like as much of a fighting chant as 'Little Wolf' did, which makes it all the better that the mention of Telemachus is what gets her to 'fight back'.
"His son's my friend!" YES HE IS. And Athena of all people declaring "a broken heart can mend" is fascinating. Can't help but wonder if she's talking about herself coming around to forgiving Odysseus.
"Never once has he cheated on his wife." Handwaving the source material is worth it for this line ALONE.
Zeus is so pressed by everyone openly knowing he cheats on Hera. Stop doing it then my dude.
Ares sounding genuinely concerned for Athena is doing things to me. Goddesses can't die, huh?
Her time motif flitting in and out like a weak heartbeat.
The soft piano of 'Warrior of the Mind', touching on a whisper of 'Legendary', then rising to a triumphant crescendo as Athena regains herself. I will be forever haunted by visions of Odysseus and Telemachus helping her to her feet.
And then, finally, she faces her own father and begs. Because Odysseus and Telemachus deserve a chance to be father and child.
The parallel, by the way, of Athena entering this saga to help an outnumbered Telemachus, and now closing it with him/Odysseus unknowingly helping her win her own battle too. JORGE HOW DARE YOU T_T
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 13 days ago
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wake up and smell the ozone, guys
[ Sebek and internalized racism / Sebek and his place in the Diasomnia found family / Sebek and his capacity to love / Sebek and the love of literature ]
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wake up Wake Up WAKE UP
DO YOU REALIZE WHAT'S GOING ON??? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? BECAUSE I'LL TELL YOU, I'LL TELL YOIU WHAT 'S GOING O N
Do you remember... Lilia's farewell party????? In 7-34, he takes us aside and says this: "Then if you truly wish to repay me, would you indulge a little request of mine? There's a freshman in our dorm, Sebek Zigvolt... It's been half a year since he started here, but I have yet to see him make any friends in the freshmen class. [...] I wouldn't ask [you to be friends with him]. Just... If you notice he's ever stuck at some point during your time here... I would ask that you card soldiers give him a little nudge."
When Sebek runs over shortly after with berry juice for Lilia, Lilia invites him to toast with his fellow first years (Ortho included): "These people will be your rivals and classmates until you graduate. You should take this chance to bond with some students from other dorms."
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Of course, Sebek adamantly refuses to do so at that point in the story. "While I appreciate your consideration, I haven't the slightest intention of being friendly with these shallow people. [...] I already have more than enough training partners between Silver and our fellow Diasomnia students. Feeble humans are naught by deadweight! There's no need to be chummy with them!"
We are now well into book 7's Heartslabyul update and it is only now that I realize WE'RE FULFILLING LILIA'S REQUEST FROM ALL THE WAY BACK THEN IN 7-34.
Firstly, Sebek is already having his entire worldview shaken because he is exposed to the terror hie liege, his idol, Malleus, has brought about. The person he dedicated his life to and worked so hard to better himself for is misusing his powers to force his will upon others, including his own retainers. And then Sebek is given a taste of his own medicine when he meets a younger version of his grandfather in Lilia's dream. Baur calls his own grandson "human" and acts suspiciously towards him because of Sebek's race (refusing to trust him, refusing to eat food he prepared, etc.). Sebek, who is hateful and others non-fae, is now the one receiving hate and being othered by the grandfather that he loves and admires. He is experiencing the discomfort with being the target of the behaviors that he himself engages in irl. These two events are challenging Sebek's beliefs and how he sees the world. He's being forced to recognize that Malleus isn't perfect, and how it feels to be persecuted and rejected on the basis of one's race.
Sebek is taken aback by the attitude of dream!Baur and doesn't exactly know how to react (though he continues to act in ways to try and earn his grandfather's praise). Silver has to intervene and remind Sebek that, in real life, Baur doesn't despise him and to not let this get to him--but it's clear that this experience still bothers Sebek, as he grumpily responds with the usual DONT BELITTLE ME, OF COURSE I KNOW THAT tsundere response. Many of the other events Sebek experiences in Lilia's dream also call into question the nature of racial relationships, and, at times, puts Sebek in the shoes of the one defending the partnership between humans and fae. For example, some Silver Owls demand to know why we're siding with the fae, and Sebek declares back that whether human or fae, it doesn't matter because at the end of the day, they fight against those with bad intentions.
When we finally transition into the dream hopping segment of book 7, I noticed that Sebek has very targeted interactions with specifically the first-year characters--the very same group that Lilia asked to help him out if he ever gets stuck. For example:
Sebek spends a prolonged period of time in Lilia's dream with Silver (a human he does like), Yuu, and Grim (two newcomers that he has to get adjusted to). Together with them, he unravels an unspoken about part of his country's history. It's kind of like traumabonding/j
Sebek relies on the technomantic support of Idia and especially Ortho (who helps them navigate to new dreams in combination with Silver's UM). He has to acknowledge that this is a specialty of Ignihyde and not something that he, a student of Diasomnia and a first year, could achieve on his own. It humbles Sebek and forces him to depend on others instead of trying to brute force the task by himself. He's physically INCAPABLE of doing so.
In Epel's dream, he appears very tall and muscular. However, Sebek chides Epel and recalls that, at Lilia's farewell party, Epel was praising Lilia because although Lilia has a similarly small stature, he never once failed to be at Malleus's side. Back then, Lilia had told Epel that physical prowess has nothing to do with a mage's strength. Later on, Sebek even praises Epel's style of fighting despite Epel being a first year. Moreover, Epel has a 70-80% success rate at casting his UM--which shocks Sebek, who has not yet mastered his own. Here, he is learning that humans that present as small and weak can actually be formidable fighters with skill that surpasses his own. This is notable because Sebek often pushes himself to train hard physically and mentally to be the best possible retainer and may have insecurities about being a magical late bloomer.
In Jack's dream, Sebek makes a big fuss about the injustices Diasomnia suffered back in book 2 due to Savanaclaw's nasty plot. He makes it clear that he won't forgive them even now--but then Jack says it's understandable given that his dorm members were playing so dirty. Sebek expresses surprise that "there are people like Jack" in Savanaclaw. He's acknowledging that even in a dormitory that Sebek had previously pegged as all underhanded ruffians, there are people who have a moral compass and go against the grain. After all, Jack was the whistleblower in that incident and still to this day realizes their actions were wrong. This shows Sebek that not all members belonging to a group are the same.
In Deuce's dream, Sebek and Deuce bond over books. Deuce shares happy memories that he has with a popular children's book from the Queendom, and this inspires Sebek to want to read the book irl. He also suggests that Deuce pick out or recommend a book for Yuu and Grim, which is similar to what Sebek does for his own loved ones (like Silver). Here, he is sharing his interests with a non-fae in a sort of cultural exchange.
So if that's the case... I���m anticipating an interaction between Sebek and Ace that brings this full circle in Ace’s dream 👁️ or at least before the end of book 7!! I'll be keeping my eyes peeled for that!
I know I've critiqued the pacing of book 7 a lot (particularly when it comes to the dream segments), but I find it really ironic that, of all characters, Sebek is the one with the most spread-out character arc... Lilia's and Silver's arcs were mainly crammed into Lilia's dream, we haven't seen Malleus for several tends of chapters now (so he only ends up being present in the beginning and end of the book), and then you have Sebek pacing himself in this marathon 🤡 even though Sebek is also the one in Diasomnia that's the most in a rush to "grow up" and "be better" (so much so that even his UM is associated with wanting to quickly rush to someone and/or to be immediately stronger).
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shiplessoceans · 1 year ago
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Good Omens S2 Episode 6 confession scene speculation:
Aziraphale didn't respond to the love confession from Crowley because he didn't realise it was one until Crowley mentioned the Nightingale and kissed him.
Allow me to explain.
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Aziraphale interrupted Crowley to give him the news from Metatron, so when Crowley starts his spiel:
"We've been together a long time, I could always rely on you...we're a group....we've spent our existence pretending we aren't...if Gabriel and Beelzebub can go off together then we can...we don't need heaven/hell they're toxic...you and me whatya say?"
Aziraphale interprets everything Crowley is saying as his rebuttal to the 'good news', not a separate declaration of his feelings.
What Aziraphale just told him shaped Crowley's confession, instead of finally telling Aziraphale how he feels about him, he's now backed into a corner and trying to change Aziraphales mind. Offering to run off with him as the alternative to the Metatron's offer.
The repetition of the phrase: "go off together" from the bandstand fight in season one feels very intentional here. It would be easy for Aziraphale to think 'this is just Crowley's response when the divine plan interferes, he always wants to run away'.
Aziraphale believes that he just needs to make Crowley understand the situation and opportunity that this is and everything will be alright:
"Come with me! To heaven, I can run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference!"
Crowley is looking defeated already, in his mind he's bared his soul and Aziraphale is a brick wall. So if he can't tempt the angel into staying with the love he has for him (which Crowley thinks he's declared but he really hasn't), he'll get him to change his mind by evoking something else he loves:
"You can't leave this bookshop."
Aziraphale scoffs fondly. 'Silly demon, you were just suggesting we run off together and abandon it only a moment ago!' He thinks Crowley is trying to 'work' him here and the old serpent might even be selflessly trying to spare the angel the loss of his beloved bookshop in order to restore Crowley and help the world, which would be just like him to be so covertly protective. So Aziraphale reassures him, a bookshop doesn't matter to him as much as Crowley and the world. It's just a collection of objects really. Humanity is more important. Crowley is far more important.
"Oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever."
Crowley is crushed. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the two of them. So he covers his sadness with his glasses, walls back up, and he tries to leave.
Aziraphale is baffled. He just reassured Crowley that he was alright with change if it means things could be better. Why is Crowley leaving? Is he worried that they won't spend time together anymore? That he won't have time for his friend as a supreme archangel?
"Crowley come back!....we can be together, angels!...I need you!"
Crowley can't even look at him in that moment. Why would Aziraphale say that? The two of them together only if he accepts heaven again? Conditional love? That's not fair. It hurts.
Aziraphale meanwhile is hurt by Crowley's turning away, his silence and a bit incensed at what he perceives as ingratitude. Aziraphale didn't really want to go back to heaven, but he'd do it if it meant Crowley could be happy and safe and Crowley doesn't seem to appreciate that:
"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."
Crowley went through the fall. He asked the questions. Did his best to protect humanity and it has brought him nothing but suffering. He's well aware what's on offer. He's seen heavens cruelty and capriciousness firsthand and been burned by it repeatedly. How can Aziraphale choose them over him and still think everything will work out?
"I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."
Crowley loves Aziraphale's big foolish optimism and kind heart and he thinks it's the very thing taking the angel away from him. This isn't how it was supposed to go. It's all slipping away from him.
"Listen. You hear that?"
Aziraphale can't even keep up at this point.
This is what comes of thousands of years of 'not talking about it' and living under threat of holy retribution if they are discovered. They're talking past each other, having two different conversations. Obfuscation and code has become their communication medium by necessity and it's failing them.
It's frustrating Aziraphale that he can't get a grip on this conversation:
"I don't hear anything!"
And Crowley drops the bomb.
"That's the point. No Nightingale's."
Oh. Suddenly we're on the same page. You can see from Aziraphale's face that he understands to what Crowley's referring. The Nightingale in Berkely square. Angels dining at the Ritz...
"You idiot! We could have been... us."
Crowley's talking about the big unspoken thing between them. Their relationship, thousands of years of dancing around each other like binary stars gravitationally and inexorably drawn together over and over. The thing Aziraphale was beginning to be bold about, (dancing notwithstanding) before Metatron came along and distracted him.
And it seems to Aziraphale that gut-wrenchingly, Crowley is finally acknowledging their mutual love only to point out that it's gone. Lost. They could have finally been together, an us, but Aziraphale ruined it because he's an 'idiot'.
After being quietly in love with Crowley for years, for Aziraphale to have his offer to return to heaven together and his unspoken love rejected in one fell swoop is devastating.
Overcome, he begins to cry and turns away, not wanting Crowley to see how hurt he is.
Crowley for his part is desperate. He has to do something. Maybe Aziraphale doesn't understand what Crowley is offering him! One fabulous kiss and va-voom right?
In a final desperate act, he kisses Aziraphale. Tries for passionate. Tries to show him that he loves him and show him what they could be because his words clearly aren't working.
Aziraphale is shocked and angry. He wants to kiss Crowley of course. But not like this. Not as a taunt. Crowley just told him their chance is over so what else could this be but a final insult. A kiss to punish the angel. It's a cruelty he didn't believe Crowley capable of.
And despite how mean it is. It's also what Aziraphale has wanted for so long he can't help but melt into it for a brief moment. Allow himself to feel what it would have been like to be that close before losing it forever.
Then Crowley lets go and Aziraphale breaks away on a sob, feeling wounded. Hurt beyond words that Crowley would use his feelings against him like this, gutted to be losing the man he loves and not understanding why.
The worst part is that Aziraphale doesn't have it in him to hate Crowley, even if he thinks the kiss was a cruel gesture. He still loves him. So he gathers himself and does what Aziraphale does when someone hurts him.
He forgives.
"I forgive you."
I forgive you for rejecting my attempt to restore you and make you happy, I forgive you for rejecting God and heaven yet again, I forgive you for acknowledging our love and then rejecting it. I forgive you for kissing me, giving me a fleeting glimpse of what we could have been to each other. I love you and I forgive you all that.
Crowley is done. Breath knocked out of him on a last sigh. He tried. And the Angel forgave him yet again for something he never asked or wanted forgiveness for. He doesn't want to be penitent for loving Aziraphale. Shouldn't have to apologise or regret wanting them to be together.
"Don't bother."
Aziraphale looks surprised Crowley is leaving because he genuinely is. He can't understand how it's all gone so horribly wrong. He gasps, shocked and can't even call out to him to stop, come back.
He cries, touches his lips where Crowley had kissed him. Tries to gather himself and barely has 10 seconds before Metatron is back.
At the end of that scene:
Crowley thinks he confessed his love and Aziraphale chose heaven over him because he didn't want to stop being a demon.
Aziraphale thinks Crowley rejected heaven, then rejected Aziraphale and threw their love back in his face as a final unkindness.
Aziraphale leaves and goes to heaven anyway because in his mind he's already lost Crowley and there is nothing left to stay for. If he doesn't have Crowley he needs a new purpose and it's going to be saving the world. He'll convince himself of it. And he'll push that broken heart down and the pain will fade if he just smiles through it. It will be enough, to make heaven better. It has to be. Maybe if he proves that he can make a difference Crowley might see the error of his ways and speak to him again? Surely. Hopefully.
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Both of them are hurt and confused and lost and oh dear hell I really feel for them.
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luveline · 1 year ago
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
Can I request shy!reader and Derek? Maybe where she's really shy about pda but she finally works up the courage to hold his hand or kiss his cheek in public and he just melts <3
tysm! ♡
"Penelope, I'm not wearing that." 
Penelope waves the custom t-shirt she's made at him threateningly. "Yes, you will, because you love me and you love Hotch and he deserves our support." 
She's created matching garb for their entire team as well as any partner willing to support Hotch. "This is his second triathlon, and he's very much going to remember last year's triathlon and his now ex-girlfriend. Plus, it's for charity!" She slaps his chest with the shirt. "Put it on." 
You smile at his reaction, the fond clench of his jaw, his rolling eyes as he peels out of his t-shirt. The smile quickly stifles, mouth dry as the Sahara in seconds. The tight pack of his abs ripple in the sunlight, dark skin practically glistening. 
"It's too hot for this," he complains. 
Penelope nudges you. "He can say that again." 
Derek squeezes into his shirt and laughs. "This better be the wrong size on accident." 
"Maybe." She leans down to grab another shirt from her tote bag, saying, "This should be the right size, sweetcheeks." 
Yours is big enough to wear over your original blouse easily. Derek glares at you without any real malice and swings an arm around your shoulders, dropping a kiss at your temple. "Looking good." 
Being with Derek has never made any sense to you. Or rather, Derek being with you has never made any sense —you'd be a fool to turn him down and he's a fool to think you're good enough. He's ridiculously attractive, a bombshell of a man, with ambition and a good heart, sweetness and heat alike practically drip from him. You're confused by him often and melted by him more, a melted puddle of a girl as he walks you to the crowd of BAU employees waiting at the finish line to cheer for Hotch.
Jack and Henry stand together, though Henry, JJ's son, is much smaller. Will crouches next to him to make sure he doesn't run anywhere he isn't supposed to, while JJ stands with Emily and Spencer, all already bedecked in their supportive t-shirts. 
There's a chorus of hellos as you join them. Everybody Derek cares about that isn't in Chicago stands in a bubble, and it terrifies you like always. You want to make a good impression. You don't want to let Derek down. 
Not that he cares about any of that. He knew you were shy to aching when you met and he has no intentions of trying to change you. "Sorry we're late," he says. "My fault."
Actually, it's your fault. You got the time wrong. But Derek doesn't embarrass you by telling them —your affection for him swells. 
He keeps a hand behind your back for a while. You sway under the huge sun beating down and on tired feet for a while, Hotch your saviour as he appears across the finish line. Will takes Jack to meet him, and Jack, the poor thing, gets a super sweaty hug.
Hotch isn't first to finish, but he runs a good time. 
"Better than last year's!" Emily cheers. 
Penelope wolf whistles. You clap your hands with Spencer, pleased if feeling a little out of place. 
"Maybe I'll sign up for next year's triathlon," Derek says, grinning. 
You know he's kidding, but Derek could do anything he set his mind to. You go on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "I'd cheer you on," you say earnestly, stepping back, wiping the tiny balmy kiss print you've left behind. 
Derek looks at you plainly startled. Your heart skips a beat, worried you've overstepped. 
"Can I get another one of those, or are they in limited supply?" he asks, warm and quiet, not an inch of bravado to be seen. 
You turn back the unfolding scene of victory in front of you, "Maybe later." 
Derek is noticeably sweet on you for hours, and declares at dinner that he'll be joining Hotch in next year's triathlon. You reach for his hand under the table and nod along. You'd love to see him at the finish line. 
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mochinek0 · 1 year ago
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Wrong Wayne
Marinette was shocked when she got to work that day, at Wayne Enterprise. Someone had set up a desk and laptop, outside of Damian's office. Some random girl was sitting there, smiling.
Marinette walked over to the office and the girl jumped up from her desk.
"Mr. Wayne, isn't in." she smiled, "Do you have an appointment? I can let him know who you are when he arrives."
"And you are?" Marinette questioned.
"I'm Damian Wayne's newest secretary." she answered.
Marinette turned around and pulled her cell phone out. She immediately began to text Tim.
Coffee Buddy: We have a sitch in front of Damian's office. Bring up CCTV.
Espresso King: Who is that?
Coffee Buddy: Claims new secretary. Send security up and look thru footage. Must have moved someone's desk cuz I can still see my desk in the office.
Espresso King: Got it
Not a minute later, Damian stepped out of the elevator.
"Mr. Wayne, I-" the new secretary began.
"Who the fuck is this?" Damian asked.
The secretary panicked, "I-I didn't get her name! I'm very sorry! I-"
Damian glared at her, "Did I ask you? Marinette, who the fuck is this?"
"She claims to be your new secretary." Marinette answered, "Damian, you didn't tell me you were firing me."
The girl paled, further.
"You-You're stuff was cleared out!" she shouted, "It should be obvious now that you're no longer needed here!"
Marinette sighed, "My stuff is in Mr. Wayne's office."
Damian opened the door, allowing the girl to peer inside. As Marinette stated, there were two desks. One by the door, which she could tell belonged to his actual secretary. The other desk by the windows, must belong to Damian.
"Why?" she questioned.
"I'm barely here." Damian stated, "Marinette does most of the work to keep me updated. I'm here only when I need to be and only then."
Mari smiled, "You have a meeting in ten minutes. I left the details on your desk last night. It's with the board of directors for the new animal clinics on 5th and Main. There's a list on top of important bullet points for you to scan over on the first page."
Damian nodded as he headed to his desk. He picked up the packet and quickly started to read it over.
The lady looked around when security got on the floor. Marinette stood by as they put her in handcuffs.
"Why are you doing this?" she screamed, "I work for Mr. Wayne."
"No, you don't." stated Damian, "I do not know who you are. I tell every secretary, I fire, when it is their last two weeks. Miss Dupain-Cheng is by far, the best person to do the job assigned to her. I have no intention of letting her go."
"You bitch! You can't separate us now! We were meant to be!" the lady shouted, "You helped me that day at the Gala.. You picked up my bracelet after that jerk threw it!
"I rarely attend those annoying things." Damian spoke, "When I do, I tend to stay away from people. The last thing I would do is go out of my way for some trinket."
"We were ten." she smiled, "It was like a dream come true."
"I never stepped foot in Gotham until I was ten." the Wayne heir replied, "My first gala was at age thirteen."
"N-No!" she screamed, stomping her foot, " We met when we were ten!"
"You are likely thinking of one of the children my father adopted; liekly Drake." Damian announced, "He was the youngest Wayne before me."
"Drake?" the girl questioned.
"Timothy Drake-Wayne is the current Co-CEO with Mr. Bruce Wayne." Mari declared, "Timothy Drake became a Wayne at age twelve. Before that, he was heir to the Drake Industries. Mr. Wayne took him in after his parents past away and his step-mother was admitted to a facility in Bludhaven."
"Sharing my life story, Coffee Buddy?" Tim questioned, announcing himself, "We found out who the mystery secretary is. Her name is Maybel Evergreen. Her brother is a night guard. We're having GCPD heading to pick him up now."
"No!" Maybel screamed, "He didn't know about this! I told him I had a lot of work to do and wasn't given my badge, yet! He really thinks I work here! He's a single dad of a two year old. Please, I'll-I'll tell you everything just don't involve him!"
"We'll see if that's true." he spoke, walking away.
He made a call to GCPD to pick up the girl and leave the brother for leverage.
As he walked back to the sobbing lady, he looked her over, closely.
'She seems familiar.'
He snapped his fingers, gaining everyone's attention.
"Gold bracelet with opals." He called out.
"Told you." Damian muttered.
The lady looked at him shocked and nodded.
"Why did you harass my younger brother?" Tim questioned.
"Actually, she mixed you two up." Marinette explained.
"Us?" Tim asked, "Me?"
Damian sighed, annoyed, "She claims to have a crush on you since you helped her that day with her trinket. She wanted to 'help' you, too."
Tim blushed, "Oh, um, that's nice, but I'm afraid I'm seeing someone. His name is Bernard."
"Oh." she spoke, looking down at the floor.
"If you still....want to help, you can always apply." Tim offered.
"Really?" Maybel asked.
"You're dedicated; that's for sure." Tim chuckled, "You do still have to go to the GCPD and they can figure out what the damage is. Next time, just apply. I cannot guarantee that you will work with me, though."
Maybel smiled, "Thank you."
"Damian, you have a meeting in three." Marinette announced.
Damian locked the office and left with Marinette at his heels, reading over the packet.
TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919  @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84  @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 months ago
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coffee. l Joel Miller
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Summary:  jealousy tastes like coffee
Warnings:  angst, but not much, fluff, some swearing, Ellie is annoying; some sexual innuendo for Joel
A/N: be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
short stories from life. [masterlist]
"This shit is awful!"
"Ellie! Do you have to make everything disgusting to me?"
"It's not my fault! You brought this home yourself. Don't expect me to pretend I like it!" the girl pushed the coffee mug away from her and rested her chin on hand "Where did you even get this?"
You poured the ground coffee out of the small grinder and carefully put it into the old coffee machine that Joel had recently managed to fix. The machine made a quiet humming sound.
"Collin gave it to me." you replied without taking your eyes off the machine "They got it in the last supplies."
"Oh, I see." Ellie sighed, clearly interested "You mean that guy who's making goo-goo eyes at you?"
"Shut up!" you hissed, but you felt your ears go red. "He just likes me."
"Yeah, for sure."
Heavy footsteps on the stairs stopped you from swatting Ellie with the cloth you had in your hand. You were excited, you couldn't wait to see Joel's face when you put a cup of freshly ground coffee in front of him.
"What smells so good?" he mumbled, still slightly hoarse as he entered the kitchen. "Is that coffee?"
The coffee machine spat out the last few drops of the black liquid and you happily put a cup of the steaming drink in front of him. Joel looked at it in surprise. He was still sleepy as he ran his fingers through his hair, making an even bigger mess on his head. His dark eyes widened with interest.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, looking at you with a smile.
"Tell him!" Ellie added quickly, and you gave her a murderous look.
"Tell him what?"
"Shut up, Ellie." you hissed, but Joel was already looking at you suspiciously.
The girl leaned back in her chair slightly, to a safe distance where you couldn't reach her, and grinned.
"Collin gave it to her." she said "You know, the one from the store. His eyes are always glued to her. I think he thought she would make him that coffee in the morning after…."
"You little..."
Joel, who was turning the cup over and over in his hands, slowly put it on the table. Suddenly the cup of coffee became the main problem in your house.
"Joel, don't be ridiculous!" you laughed to hide your embarrassment "You've been saying for days that you dream of coffee. You even fixed the coffee machine!"
"Naah, I don't feel like it." he muttered.
You looked at him in surprise. You felt as if Joel and Ellie were suddenly standing in opposition to you, and the subject of the conflict was the unfortunate coffee. This was crazy!
"Collin isn't hitting on me at all!" you declared, slapping the table with a cloth, and Ellie jumped with excitement "Stop talking nonsense!"
"Last week you got two jars of strawberry jam from him, remember?" Ellie reminded you with satisfaction, Joel nodded.
"Fuck! Seriously?" you looked at Joel reproachfully.
Miller didn't answer your question, only mumbled that he had a job at the stables and left you with Ellie, who seemed delighted with the chaos she caused.
"I think he's jealous." she stated as the door to the house slammed after a few minutes.
The whole day you were not satisfied with your morning conversation in the kitchen. As you could expect such behavior from Ellie, Joel was a grown man. You finished your duties with the intention of talking to him and explaining everything.
Collin was just your friend, you had no deeper feelings for him beyond simple sympathy. And jealousy was nothing normal in this situation. Because why would it appear at all, right?
You entered the stable and from a distance you noticed Joel cleaning the chestnut mare, which he liked very much. The footsteps were clearly audible, but he decided to ignore you, as you thought.
"Hi." you choked out, approaching him. "Do you wanna talk?"
"Not really." he replied, not stopping working.
"Okay, so I'll do the talking." you said "Joel, this is stupid. We can't have quiet days because of a cup of coffee. We're friends, right? Are you going to get all huffy every time I bring something home?"
"Depends if the guy is clingy to you." he replied quietly, and you rolled your eyes.
"Collin is not clingy to me." you pronounced each word clearly, so that he would definitely get it "Are you really going to listen to a teenager! Ellie has been teasing me all morning and you got mad at me like some brat! Are you really jealous?"
"That's not... Fuck! That's not what I mean!"
He finally turned to you and looked you in the face. The eyebrows were furrowed and his body was tense. The whole situation would have been even funny if you weren't both so worked up.
"I don't like it when some guys give you something because then they'll want something in return." he said sharply "That's how it works! Nobody does anything for free."
You folded your arms across your chest and glared at him defiantly. "Really?" you asked. "What did you want from me when you fixed my dresser door, huh?"
"I didn't... Shit! It's not fair and you know it! You know I'd never..."
"Listen, Joel." you said, pointing a warning finger at him. "I didn't say anything when Mrs. Jones asked you to take a look at her electric heater because... How did she say it? She needed a good warm-up." Joel gulped, clearly confused. "Another woman wanted you to replace some boards in her bed and make sure she was safe there. And one of Ellie's teachers..."
"That's enough!" Joel interrupted you, and you could barely hold back a laugh. "I get it! Okay? I made a fool of myself."
He looked a bit like a scolded puppy. You had been friends for a long time and this kind of conversation between you shouldn't have happened at all. There was never a situation where you were the one who got mad at him for doing something for someone.
"That was kind of sweet." You stated, shrugging. "Too bad the coffee got cold."
He nodded. He put down the brush he was using to brush his horse and grabbed the bridle to lead him to his place.
"You know, all those women... Fuck. Do you really think they were flirting with me?"
"Would you like to charge different fees now, Miller?" You snorted. "Yeah, they really were trying to flirt with you."
Joel cleared his throat and closed the stall. He thought about something for a moment, then looked at you and asked.
"Do you have anything I could fix? As compensation for the fact that this whole situation even happened." He said. "Maybe you have something that moves, or is too loose?"
"You know..." you thought for a moment. "Not really. Maybe not moving or loose, but…tight."
"Tight?" he was surprised and for a moment you saw in his eyes as his brain tried to understand your allusion.
You slowly moved towards the exit. "Yeah, Joel. Tight. Something very tight."
You threw him a quick look the moment your words finally sunk in. His eyes widened as he understood.
"Are you flirting with me? Fuck! Stay!"
You left the stable with a wide smile on your lips. Your revenge tasted like coffee.
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
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ariadne-mouse · 8 months ago
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Regarding the initial confrontation between Essek and Astrid, the tone of the situation, and what exactly Astrid's stance is right now, I have a couple of thoughts:
Astrid has presumably not joined Ludinus because she is currently hiding in a smut shop. She also presumably hasn't joined the Exandrian Accord because, again, she is currently hiding in a smut shop & the Accord is sending missions after her. Maybe she disagrees with Ludinus but feels she can't safely outright oppose him. We don't know yet! Provided she isn't rooting for Ludinus, it's very possible she could be enlisted to help (I hope this happens btw), but Astrid is first and foremost a survivor and ambitious achiever who has gotten to where she is now by working within the greater system, not against it, even when she disagrees with it. She remained a Volstrucker until Caleb and the M9 turned the tide against Ikithon, and she later took on the role of Archmage that Caleb refused, continuing her original trajectory ("race you to the top!"). She has a great deal of power now and we don't have much information about what she does with it. I am very curious, though, Astrid please tell us your secrets.
"Bren sends his regards" - we don't know if Caleb told Essek to say this, but whether or not he did, I do think it was meant to convey "this is all with Caleb's knowledge and direction", for whatever measure that means to Astrid, most likely "you are safe for the moment". The purpose of this encounter is to have a conversation instead of a fight. And Essek's intent in saying it does seem to be to disarm Astrid, but his presentation puts some layers and edges on it that are likely independent of whatever Caleb might be feeling on his end (other posts have summarized the juicy possible layers well so I won't cover all of that here).
More high level on Essek's angle: even if "Bren sends his regards" was meant to signal to Astrid that she is safe in this encounter, one of the very first things Essek does is declare Astrid as Trent Ikithon's "successor", which Astrid of course disagrees with ("I'm his usurper!") but nevertheless this is an insult and condemnation coming from Essek. The subtext reads to me like "I don't like you or agree with you and you're on thin fucking ice how I see it". Is she safe from physical harm? It seems so, for now. Is she safe from bitchy comments and thinly veiled judgement? Certainly not.
Notably, Astrid tried to bamf out after hearing "Bren sends his regards", so the mention of him or what that message would mean coming from Caleb is not enough to get her to play ball by itself. This is perfectly reasonable to be honest; shit's all fucked up now and Essek basically cornered her with a squad of unfamiliar adventurers. But her skittishness despite the "friendly" signal implies a great deal of tension in her position, and Essek's behavior shows tension on his part as well, separate from whatever Caleb might be feeling offscreen and the purpose of this little mission for the Accord. I am very eager to hear the conversation that comes next!
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nochd · 1 month ago
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This was on @whatareyoureallyafraidof's post where they put up this:
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And I responded with this image:
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and promised in the tags to elaborate if asked. And, @frodo-the-weeb, I will. But it's going to get long and I'm going to have to split it up into several reblogs.
First of all, since not everybody in the world is a Silmarillion enthusiast, let me explain what we're referring to.
One of the stories in the Silmarillion, and possibly the one Tolkien cared about the most, is the tale of Lúthien and Beren; a highly condensed version of a narrative poem called the Lay of Leithian, which Tolkien began writing in the 1930s and tried to get his publisher interested in after the success of The Hobbit.
(Their readers said no, and they tactfully asked him to focus on his Hobbit sequel instead. "The result," in Tolkien's own words, "was The Lord of the Rings.")
The skeleton of The Lay of Leithian is as follows; I'm intentionally leaving out a bunch of information that weaves it into the overarching story of the Silmarillion but isn't relevant to the thesis I'm advancing here.
Lúthien, an Elven princess and enchantress, falls in love with a mortal man, a ranger called Beren. Her father, the Elven King Thingol, disapproves and sends him Beren off to fetch one of the jewels from the crown of the Dark Lord Morgoth. Lúthien tries to join Beren but her father imprisons her in a tower to stop her, only it's actually a treehouse because they're forest elves. Lúthien magically grows her hair long and uses it to escape. By the time she catches up with Beren he is chained in the dungeons of Morgoth's second-in-command, Thû (whom Tolkien later renamed Sauron). She rescues him with the help only of a dog, who defeats Thû himself in single combat. They then live in the forest together for quite some time, but Beren feels bad about being the reason she can't go home to her family, and still intends to finish his mission and get the jewel. He leaves one morning while she's still asleep, so as not to put her in danger, and then when he's on the threshold of Morgoth's underground fortress in the far North of Middle-Earth she catches up with him again and he accepts that she's not going to be put off. Together they enter Morgoth's fortress and make their way to his throne room. They are in disguise but Morgoth is not fooled and uncovers Lúthien in front of everyone, declaring his intention to make her one of his many slaves. Lúthien offers to sing and dance for him, which is the way she works her magic. She puts everyone in the throne room to sleep, including both Beren and eventually Morgoth. She wakes Beren and he takes the jewel and they flee, but as they get to the outer door they are stopped by Morgoth's guard-wolf, who bites off Beren's hand holding the jewel.
That's as far as Tolkien ever got with the poem, but we have the synopsis in the prose Silmarillion to tell us the rest of the story; again cutting it down to the quick, Thingol accepts Beren as his son-in-law, Morgoth's guard-wolf attacks Doriath, Beren goes and hunts it but is mortally wounded, his spirit goes to the Halls of Waiting in the Undying Lands where the dead in Middle-Earth go, Lúthien also goes there and, again through her magical song, persuades Mandos the god of the dead to let him come back. Mandos offers her a choice: live on immortally as an Elf without Beren, or return to Middle-Earth with Beren but both of them will grow old and die. She chooses the latter.
Tolkien created Lúthien as a portrait of his wife Edith, which makes Beren a picture of himself. We know this for a fact because he had LUTHIEN written on her grave when she died, and when he joined her in it two years later the name BEREN was written for him:
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Now on the lower right side of my response image you'll see Pauline Baynes' illustration of the Lady in the Green Kirtle from The Silver Chair, one of C. S. Lewis's Narnia stories. A quick synopsis of the Lady of the Green Kirtle's part in the story:
The Lady is a witch who rules a gloomy kingdom underneath Narnia, accessible through a fissure in the earth in an old ruined city far to the North. Before the story opens she has enspelled and kidnapped King Caspian's son Prince Rilian, whom she intends to send leading an army to conquer Narnia in her name. For twenty-three hours a day he is her willing slave and lap-dog; to maintain the spell, he must be bound to the titular silver chair for the remaining hour, during which he is sane and aware of his imprisonment. The protagonists, Eustace and Jill and their guide Puddleglum, meet her and Rilian unawares on their journey to the North; she sends them astray and almost succeeds in getting them eaten by giants. Eventually they rescue Rilian from the chair, but she sings a magical song which very nearly puts them all to sleep but for Puddleglum's intervention. Foiled, she transforms into a serpent, attacks them, and they kill her.
It is my contention that the Lady in the Green Kirtle is Lewis's caricature of Lúthien, with the enslaved and befuddled Prince Rilian representing Beren; and further, that Lewis knew or recognised that Lúthien and Beren were a literary portrait of the Tolkiens, so that The Silver Chair is ultimately a nasty commentary on their marriage.
In forthcoming reblogs I will lay out my evidence for this thesis.
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iovebarca · 8 months ago
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hiii I love your fanfics!! Could I request one with gavi where he takes you to la feria de Sevilla. And she isn’t from Spain so he shows her around la Féria and teaches her how to dance and maybe also he is starstruck seeing her in the flamenco dress. Pleaseee
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La Feria De Seville - Pablo Gavi
WC: 700+
warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, fluff!
Quick explanation of La Feria De Seville:
The Feria de Seville started in 1846 as a livestock fair. It was organized by two councillors, Basque José María Ybarra and Catalan Narciso Bonaplata. The fair was held at the Prado de San Sebastian, on the outskirts of the city. Over time, the festival evolved into the lively and colorful event that it is today.
The fair generally begins two weeks after the Semana Santa, or Easter Holy Week. It officially begins at midnight on Saturday, and runs 7 days, ending on the following Saturday
send me requests!! ❤️
As you step off the bustling streets of Seville, Spain, into the vibrant chaos of La Feria de Seville, Pablo takes your hand, his eyes sparkling with excitement. You can feel the energy pulsating through the air, the sound of flamenco music mingling with the chatter of the crowd. This is a world unlike any other, and Pablo is your guide.
"Welcome to La Feria, mi amor," he says, his voice warm with affection.
You follow Pablo through the maze of colorful tents and bustling crowds, your senses overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the festival. Everywhere you look, there are people laughing, dancing, and indulging in the joy of the moment.
Pablo leads you to a clearing in the center of the fairgrounds, where a makeshift dance floor has been set up beneath a canopy of twinkling lights. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms, his movements fluid and confident as he guides you through the steps of the traditional Sevillanas dance.
At first, you stumble and falter, your feet awkward and unsure. But with Pablo's patient guidance, you soon find your rhythm, your body moving in harmony with his. Together, you whirl and spin across the dance floor, lost in the magic of the moment.
As the night wears on, Pablo takes you on a whirlwind tour of La Feria, introducing you to his friends and family, and sharing with you the rich history and traditions of the festival. You listen intently, hanging on his every word, captivated by the passion and pride in his voice.
Pablo's sister, Aurora, appears beside you with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Come, mi amiga," she says, her voice filled with excitement. "I have something for you."
Curious, you follow Aurora through the throngs of people, until you reach a small tent adorned with colorful fabrics and sparkling trinkets. Inside, she rummages through a pile of dresses until she emerges triumphant, holding out a flamenco dress with a flourish.
"It's for you," Aurora declares, her smile infectious. "Try it on."
You hesitate, feeling a rush of nerves at the thought of wearing such a beautiful garment. But Aurora's encouragement is infectious, and before you know it, you find yourself slipping into the dress, the fabric cool against your skin as it cascades down your body in a riot of ruffles and lace.
As you step out of the dressing tent, Aurora's eyes widen in delight, her applause mingling with the cheers of the crowd. "You look stunning!" she exclaims, her voice ringing out over the music. "Like a true Sevillana!"
Pablo appears at your side, his gaze soft with admiration as he takes in the sight of you in the flamenco dress. "You are even more beautiful than I imagined," he whispers, his words sending a shiver down your spine.
As the night at La Feria de Sevilla begins to wind down, Pablo suggests taking a stroll along the banks of the Guadalquivir River. The air is filled with the sweet scent of orange blossoms, and the distant sound of music drifts through the night, creating a dreamlike atmosphere.
Hand in hand, you follow Pablo as he leads you away from the fairgrounds and towards the river, the cobblestone streets bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. The twinkling lights reflected in the waters of the Guadalquivir create a mesmerizing sight, casting a magical spell over the night.
As you walk, you share intimate conversations about your hopes, dreams, and aspirations, each word spoken with a tenderness that fills the air with warmth. Pablo listens attentively as you speak, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.
With a tender smile, Pablo takes your hands in his, his gaze filled with warmth and affection.
"I love you," Pablo whispers, his voice barely more than a breath against your skin.
Tears well up in your eyes at his confession, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his words. Without hesitation, you throw your arms around him, pulling him close as you press your lips to his in a sweet, lingering kiss.
In that moment, surrounded by the magic of La Feria and the soft embrace of the night, you know that you have found something truly special—a love that transcends time and distance, a love that fills your heart to overflowing.
"I love you too, Pablo," you whisper against his lips, your voice filled with tenderness and joy. "More than words can say."
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spencerfuckngreid · 3 months ago
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Could you do Spencer x reader where he’s holding a cast party and reader goes to his home to help get the party ready and confesses that she is attracted to him and he likes her back (Smut/ cute Fluff if possible)
Or could you do where the reader is starting to show her baby bump/ tell Spencer she’s pregnant? Thank uuu
Party with a surprise | Spencer Reid +18
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· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader · Category: fluff, smut-fluff, Angst · Warning: Sex, pregnancy, body-shaming · Words: 4854 · Summary: You and Spencer are really close, and lately, you've been hanging out a lot. You're excited to help him set up his party, hoping to spend more time with him. You had no idea things would change so quickly between you two.
· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind!
· Masterlist
"Hey, have you sent animated invitations to everyone for Saturday’s party?"
You heard a voice complaining behind you as a coffee flew through the air and landed in your hands.
"Yes, don’t you like it? They turned out pretty good, didn’t they?"
"Big social event at Spencer Reid's house. Please be on time, if you've been invited it's because you're a very special person… The time, the day... the address... a heart, another one... moving animals... very creative, yes." He complained, barely holding back a laugh.
"I think it was successful… everyone liked it, they all confirmed their attendance, by the way. You’re welcome for the help," you responded sarcastically.
He hadn’t asked for help with the party, but you wanted to do it. It wasn’t something he would normally do, though you thought it was great, and it was as good an excuse as any to spend time together. You’d been friends for a long time, but lately, you’d been feeling more attracted to him than usual, something you tried to deny to yourself.
"I didn’t ask for it, no need, really, just you coming is enough." You knew he didn’t mean to bother you, which only made him more adorable.
"I’ll be there early on Saturday to help with everything. And don’t try to argue! I know you." You said with a cheeky smile but a certain authoritative tone, and he couldn’t help but smile too.
On Saturday, you arrived at his house at four sharp, loaded with bags full of decorations, food, and drinks. You climbed the stairs, feeling sweat trickling down your back and your heart racing. You wanted to look perfect for him. Once at the top, you dropped everything with a sigh. Your hair was a bit tousled, and your cheeks were flushed. Just as you were about to fix yourself up, the door opened.
"Hey… What are you doing…?" A shy smile appeared on his lips.
"N-nothing... I was… resting. I carried all these things up." You were still panting.
"You should’ve called me! You’re so stubborn... You’re early." He protested as he helped you bring in the bags.
"There’s a lot of decorating to do... Why are you throwing a party if you're going to complain so much?"
"Okay, okay, sorry. I’m just nervous. You... You look really pretty, by the way."
Your eyes widened, and you fought to keep your cheeks from turning red.
"Oh… Thanks…" You turned away, trying to hide the fact that the comment affected you, and started taking things out of the bag. "Come on… Help me..."
Before you could finish your sentence, Spencer was beside you, helping you take out the decorations and placing them on the table. His arm brushed against yours, and it was affecting you more than you'd like to admit.
"Hey, look." Spencer wrapped your head with a garland. "It really suits you," he said with a laugh. You were standing quite close, and your heart raced at his adorable gesture.
"Oh, so funny." You put a bow on his head. "Now you’re a gift."
He smiled when you didn’t pull away. He looked at you intently and, with a moment of bravery, said, "I don’t mind if I’m a gift for you."
Your cheeks flushed, and you lowered your gaze, feeling your heart pound. You didn’t expect such a direct declaration. Was he openly flirting with you? Was Spencer Reid flirting? He was, and you liked it, but the idea of crossing that line with your best friend terrified you.
As you both decorated the living room, the tension between you increased with every accidental touch and prolonged glance. Your body responded instinctively to his closeness, but a part of you fought to maintain distance. When you finished, you both sat on the couch.
"Have you thought about the music? Parties have music, Spence..." You grabbed your phone and searched for a lively playlist.
"Good thing you’re here, or else…" Suddenly, you felt his hand gently stroke your arm, casually, as if it were something he did all the time. You glanced at his hand out of the corner of your eye but tried to ignore it, focusing on your phone, but your body betrayed you, and your skin tingled at his touch. You looked up and realized he was much closer than you thought. The tension was palpable, like that typical movie moment where the protagonists kiss. You felt it, you wanted it, and you could tell he did too. But oh, right... just as you were about to get closer, the doorbell rang—a timely yet inconvenient coincidence. You both cursed internally; it was clear on your faces.
"I’ll get it..." Spencer said as he stroked your arm once more, pressing gently. You didn’t know what they had done to your friend and colleague. He was so bold, so confident, you couldn’t believe it, though you loved it.
When he opened the door, Penelope burst in, with Derek and JJ following behind.
"Heyyy!" The blonde greeted cheerfully.
"How’s it going, lovebirds? I brought this," Derek placed something to drink on the table.
JJ entered and sat in the living room, looking at you curiously when she saw your frown. She smiled.
Soon, the others arrived, and honestly, you were all having a great time. You kept handling the music for everyone's sake, and watching Morgan and Garcia break into dance quickly got the party going. Rossi pulled you out to dance, Emily and JJ made amusing comments, and Hotch stayed off to the side, sipping his drink and "smiling" at the spectacle. But noticing how Spencer never took his eyes off you for a second made your heart race non-stop. If there hadn’t been music, everyone could have probably heard your heartbeat.
You spent the whole night flirting, glances here and there, a touch now and then, a subtle comment whenever one of you got close to the other… Tonight you felt like you were on cloud nine. You went to Spencer’s room, where you had all left your personal things, to grab some lip balm from your purse. As you were about to leave, you bumped into him.
"Oh..! You scared me... Sorry."
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you." Spencer had a relaxed smile on his face. He had followed you, clearly wanting to be alone with you, and at that point, you had no control over your nerves.
"N-no, it’s fine..."
"You still… still haven’t danced with me," he said, raising his eyebrows, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that made you melt. You hadn’t really been aware of it until now. And suddenly, you realized you were in his room, in the dark, with only the light from outside and the sound of the music from the living room and your friends having fun.
"No, you don’t dance..." You said with a nervous giggle.
"I would dance with you," he replied, stepping closer.
The shy laugh that escaped you as you lowered your head, embarrassed, seemed like more than enough of a sign for him to approach, with a soft but determined touch on your waist. His touch was slow, cautious, waiting for any sign of doubt or rejection, but that never came. Instead, your hands slowly moved up his arms, tracing the path to his shoulders, and you were completely pressed together as you started a slow, swaying dance.
Your gazes locked, trapping you in the warmth of his brown eyes that seemed to speak without words. Slowly, he leaned his face toward yours until your foreheads touched. He smiled—a smile full of tenderness you could see even with the dim light that entered, making you shiver.
With a slight movement of his foot, he closed the door, isolating the two of you from the rest of the world. The darkness surrounding you seemed to intensify your heartbeat. His hands, which had rested on your waist, began to slowly slide down, while yours, almost without realizing it, moved up to his neck, seeking more closeness.
Your noses brushed in a sweet, innocent gesture, but it was loaded with restrained desire. Your bodies, once swaying in sync, now moved erratically, but in that lack of coordination, there was something deliberate, as if every small accidental touch was a game you both wanted to keep playing. You could feel it—his body reacting, and yours responding to his touch.
Almost at the same time, you both leaned in, meeting in a kiss that, though passionate, was slow, delicate. With each touch, each caress of his lips on yours, you felt your mind fog, and time seemed to stop, letting only your deepest instincts guide the moment. Your tongues tangled together, while Spencer’s hands tenderly caressed the rest of your body, pulling it as close to his as he could, wanting to treat it with all the care in the world, and that’s when he seemed to realize he wanted to kiss every part of you. There was nothing innocent about the way your tongues intertwined, exploring each other with a sweetness that made you feel like you were floating. Spencer’s hands were careful, starting to explore your body with the same tenderness with which he kissed your lips.
He pushed you gently against the door, his ragged breath hitting your skin as he began a trail of kisses down your neck, slowly descending to your collarbone. Each kiss ignited a spark, making your thoughts completely vanish. The softness with which he treated you was a delicious contradiction; his kisses were soft, but the desire only made you burn more.
In the background, you barely heard the music and distant voices. Laughter, conversations, even Derek’s booming laughter or Garcia’s loud voice faded away. All that mattered was him and how his hands drew you closer to his body, as
In the background, you could barely hear the music and distant voices. Laughter, conversations, even Derek's loud laughter or García's booming voice faded away. All that mattered was him, and the way his hands pulled you closer to his body, as if he never wanted to let you go.
With a gentle movement, you pulled Spencer, and the two of you fell onto the bed. You on your back and him on top of you, his lips never stopped moving across your skin. A mixture of desire and tenderness filled every second. His body against yours enveloped you, not just physically, but emotionally, as you felt the intensity that only kept growing. And there, while Spencer's hands continued to explore your body with that infinite devotion, you knew that moment was just yours, perfect in its mix of passion and love.
His lips didn’t stop exploring every part of you they could reach, while his ragged breathing brushed your skin with an intoxicating warmth, the way his mouth lingered on your skin was slow, but filled with an intensity that made you shiver. Your hands weren’t still. They slid to his hair, tangling in it, tugging slightly, trying to feel him even closer. You could feel how every one of his movements seemed intentional, designed to make you feel loved and desired at the same time. He paused occasionally, breathing deeply. The silence in the room, broken only by whispers, shallow breaths, and the music in the background, became even more palpable when his lips finally met yours again in a deeper, more desperate kiss.
His hands rested on your face, caressing your cheek with an overwhelming softness. He looked into your eyes as his breathing steadied slightly, and then, in a low and husky voice, he said, "You can’t imagine how much I love you." His confession hung in the air, filling it with a warmth that pierced your heart.
You shivered, your body trembled, and your mind went blank. In that moment, it felt like you were floating away, all the feelings you'd been ignoring, and there he was, confessing that he loved you and making you feel like the most desired person in the sweetest way.
As his lips met yours again, Spencer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth. There was something mischievous in that gesture, something that seemed to remind you both that you'd been away from the party for too long. Your stomach fluttered, and you said, "I love you too, Spencer." The urgency started to grow more palpable. His body on top of yours pressed slightly, as if time itself was conspiring to make sure nothing and no one interrupted that moment.
Between kisses, soft laughter, and ragged breaths, he whispered in your ear, with a warm and conspiratorial tone: "They're going to look for us... they must be wondering where we are by now."
"Let them wonder," you replied with a half-smile, almost panting, as you pulled him closer, making your bodies fit together even more. You felt the heat on your skin, the fast beat of his heart, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. There were no longer just brushes of skin, his hands sought your breasts, caressing them beneath your clothes as he kissed your neck.
The hand that had been exploring your torso moved down to your abdomen, unbuttoning your pants. His hands began to slide more firmly over your waist, moving down, pulling off your pants and underwear. Despite the urgency you both felt, there was a softness in his touch that countered the fast pace of his kisses. It seemed like every gesture, every caress, was filled with love and devotion.
Between kisses, Spencer paused his mouth near your ear. "Tell me if you want me to stop..." His voice was a deep whisper, filled with that perfect mix of desire and respect, his words echoed in your mind as you bit your lip.
"No… Don't stop," you responded quickly, your fingers tangling even tighter in his hair, pulling him closer to you. You got rid of his belt, and his hands moved even faster, exploring every part of you, while his mouth reclaimed yours in a deeper kiss, full of that urgent desire. You knew that at any moment someone could knock on the door or ask about you two, but that only seemed to speed things up. You shivered when, in one swift movement, you felt him make you completely his.
Spencer breathed against your neck, his lips moving up and down, leaving a trail of kisses that made your skin burn with each touch. Between whispered moans of pleasure, you felt how his movements became faster, more intense, but never lost the sweetness that had characterized every touch, every kiss.
"You're perfect," he whispered against your lips, his voice ragged from the intensity of the moment. His hot breath brushed your skin as he kissed you over and over, his hands gripping you as if he didn’t want that moment to slip away.
You felt it too; that delicious mix of urgency and emotional connection that made you wish time would stop. As your bodies moved in unison, Spencer kept his eyes closed, as if that allowed him to thrust with more force, as if he wanted to savor every second. But when he opened them, he looked at you with such intensity that it almost took your breath away.
Words were replaced by unintelligible whispers, small confessions of love and desire that escaped between quick breaths. The urgency that had started when you fell on the bed now reached its peak, but even in those most intense moments, Spencer never stopped being tender. His hands, which gripped you more tightly, still kept that softness that made you feel protected and loved.
Finally, the moment culminated in an explosion of sensations, and he had to cover your mouth with his hand between laughs to keep quiet, though luckily the music was loud. The two of you clung to each other, breathing together, sharing the heat and the rapid beat of your hearts. Spencer buried his face in your neck, breathing deeply as he tried to calm down, letting his hand that had been over your lips fall.
After a few moments, both of you started laughing softly, your bodies still close. Spencer sat up just enough to look into your eyes.
"They definitely suspect something," he said, but his tone was light, playful. He didn’t seem too worried.
"I don’t care," you replied, laughing, as you caressed his neck.
That night meant something new for both of you. Monday morning when you arrived, he was there, and you looked at each other nervously, unsure of what to say. You had confessed your love to each other in the middle of the frenzy and hadn’t talked about it afterward. For the rest of the party, you were affectionate, more than usual, and of course, your friends noticed your absence and the playful flirting afterward. You didn’t escape the teasing comments either.
“Hey, lovebirds, here,” Derek handed each of you a drink. “You need to replenish your fluids.” My face turned as red as a tomato, and Spencer laughed, lowering his gaze.
“Morgan... leave them alone, don’t be cruel,” JJ was at least on our side, thankfully.
“I love it when there are new couples! The beginnings are so beautiful!!” García is undoubtedly the team’s biggest blabbermouth. I didn’t know where to hide, and I couldn’t understand why Spencer wasn’t feeling awkward about the situation.
“Alright, alright... Guys, stop, y/n’s going to bolt,” Rossi gestured with his hands as if calming everyone down. “So, where were we? Can someone turn up the music and bring me another drink?” Emily had definitely taken over a couch and was in her happy place.
After the party, I went home. JJ, Emily, and I took an Uber. Spencer and I said goodbye normally; I think we were embarrassed, with everyone there, we didn’t know how to behave. And for the rest of the weekend, we didn’t talk again.
When we saw each other again on Monday, it was a bit awkward. He greeted me when he saw me, and I didn’t know how to react.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How are you...?” He seemed like he wanted to say something more, but I think he was feeling the same as me.
“Uh, uh... I’m fine, and you...?”
“I... Well, I’m fine...” There was a pause. “Actually, no, I’m not.”
“You’re not? Okay, why not?” You thought this was the stupidest conversation you’d ever had.
Even with the silly conversation you were having, you cursed when you were interrupted.
“Hey, Reid, I need you to come with me to a crime scene.” Damn Morgan, he’s always so freaking inconvenient.
You spent the whole day at the office nervously trying to do the profile, but you didn’t make much progress. You kept glancing at the door. “Where had they gone?” you wondered.
It wasn’t until the middle of the afternoon that Reid appeared, exhausted from running all over the city, collapsing into his chair. When you saw him, you moved closer, sitting in the chair next to him.
“Hey... how did it go? You took a while.” You were worried when you saw his tired face, and you had the urge to hug him.
He slouched further in the chair. “It went well, it was just a long investigation. I’m tired,” his eyes locked on yours. “I... wanted to see you.”
You tried to contain a smile that was fighting to come out, but you lost the battle. Spencer gave you one in return, sincere, kind. And you saw him extend a hand, inviting you to take it. You didn’t think much about it; you wanted to feel his electrifying, warm, and comforting skin against yours again.
“The day felt so long without you.” You were starting to lose filters; you didn’t want them with him.
“It’s been endless. The thing is, I’ve had something on my mind all day, and I need to ask you.”
“Oh, okay... Go ahead, ask.” You were a nervous wreck, but you acted normal.
“Um... You and I... ? Are we... are we boyfriend and girlfriend...?”
Your smile grew wider without meaning to; you found it so adorable how he was asking to be your boyfriend, how he wasn’t sure if he already was after what had happened. He was sweet even for this. Though to be honest, you didn’t really know either.
“Hm... I’d like that... Do you... do you want to be my boyfriend...?” You asked with a bit of hesitation.
He gently pulled on the hand you had grabbed a few minutes ago, and with the other, he cupped your face and kissed you with a softness and tenderness that made you melt. Yes, he definitely wanted to be your boyfriend.
You spent a few dreamlike months together. You were in love, enjoying your time like any newly-started couple: many hours in bed, just as many out walking, countless more on the couch reading and eating chocolate ice cream like you loved so much, enduring the comments and teasing from your friends... You had been together for a month and a half, and for the last few days, you hadn't been feeling well. Some dizziness and more exhaustion than usual, though you didn’t think much of it.
A week later, and suddenly, the foods you once loved were making you feel sick. Everything disgusted you. By the time two months had passed, the lack of sleep and food, along with body aches, was getting to you.
"Hey, you've not been feeling well lately, babe. We’re going to the doctor," he insisted, kind but firm.
"Seriously, just leave it, these past few weeks have been stressful. I just need to finish this case."
"Stress? You can’t stop moving at night, your back hurts, you're irritable, you're not eating... It’s like…" His face changed completely, becoming sad.
"Like what…?"
"We started dating, and now you… Is this all because you don’t want us to be together? Do you want to go back?"
"W-what?" My eyes were wide. Had I made him think that? I had been so focused on myself that I hadn’t noticed how he was feeling. "NO! I love you! Do you hear me?" I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me.
Spencer nodded slowly and rested his forehead against mine. "I love you too. I’m just worried you’re not okay."
"You’re so adorable I could die right now, you know that?" His laugh, with his forehead still pressed against mine, made him even more adorable. He didn’t know.
A couple more weeks passed, maybe three, you weren’t sure. There was so much chaos in your life—working at the BAU had its downsides: traveling, long hours, constant outings... You hadn’t noticed a pattern until today. You had spent the last five mornings throwing up your coffee. “Sht…” you thought. Suddenly, you became aware of everything else: you were wearing leggings because your jeans were too tight, the aches, the fatigue, the chest pain, the nausea... “Fck… This can’t be, this can’t be…”
You panicked and got dressed quickly, trying not to think about it anymore. When you arrived at the bullpen, JJ showed up with some donuts and offered you one, but you refused as soon as the smell hit your nose.
“Ugh… no thanks, JJ…”
“Oh, alright… I’ll save one for later.” JJ looked at you closely.
“Hey, for how little you’re eating, you’re looking extra huggable. Love looks good on you,” Morgan joked about the obvious change in your body, and it crushed you. It was an innocent comment, seemingly positive, but you couldn’t take it.
“S-sorry, I need to go to the bathroom, guys.” You rushed off, the door closed behind you, and you started crying uncontrollably.
A few seconds later, someone came in. “Hello…? Hey…” JJ was fully aware of what was happening to you. She had been watching for a while—she had gone through the same thing. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“I screwed up, JJ…”
“Well… It’s not exactly that, right?”
“How could I not use…? Damn it, I should’ve known better. I forget to take the pill sometimes. I’m so scatterbrained, and with the time changes, the trips… What do I do?!”
“Hm, I think you two need to talk, honestly. You love each other, don’t you? It’ll be okay.” JJ seemed so calm, and it was actually helping you, but all you wanted to do was scream.
The rest of the day, you were a bit distant with everyone, even with Spencer, who seemed worried about you. He tried to take care of you without overwhelming you too much, always attentive to your needs. He always did that, but now he wanted to make sure you felt better; leaving water on your desk, lollipops you liked next to your monitor, hand cream… At the end of the day, he approached you.
"Hey, um, would you… do you want to come over to my place today?" You could see his concerned, almost pleading expression.
That automatically brought a small smile to your face. "Of course, I want to. Let’s go."
When you arrived, you were determined to talk to him, no matter how hard it might be.
"Um, Spence, can we talk? I need to tell you something." Your face was full of complete and utter distress.
Spencer let out a deep sigh, took your hand, and gently led you to the couch, inviting you to sit beside him. His attitude struck you as odd, though he was always tender with you.
"Alright, uh… I have something important to tell you," you said firmly. You wanted to be direct, not knowing any other way to do it.
"I know what's going on." His face, though serious, radiated affection, empathy, and kindness.
"Oh. Uh… How do you… know?"
"If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s recognizing patterns. And for the past three months, you’ve had some pretty obvious symptoms: nausea, vomiting, aches, fatigue, gaining a bit of volume…" He squeezed your hand, and a small smile appeared on his face.
You felt like you were breaking slowly. "Why… didn’t you say anything?" Your voice sounded high-pitched, on the verge of tears.
"I was giving you space, I thought you needed it. At first, I thought you were sick, and then I realized that wasn’t it. I just wanted you to come to me when you were ready…" Your face was a mix between a pout and a smile.
"It’s just… I didn’t notice, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, I just wasn’t aware. My god, what a stupid thing… Not even with my body, my clothes don’t even fit."
"Your body is perfect, I love it, no matter what it is now or what it will be, I’ll love it always. I love you in all your forms." He lifted your hands and kissed them with his eyes closed, showing all the devotion he felt for you. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest, and a huge smile spread across your face.
"Look, I haven’t actually taken a test yet, so I don’t know if I really am or not… I also don’t know if… I mean, what now? If it’s real, what are we going to do? I can’t think of anything else right now; it’s like everything is foggy—my work, the future, us…"
"Okay, okay, okay… Stop. Listen. Tomorrow we’ll go to the doctor, and this time you can’t say no. Once we know more, you can decide what you want. I want you to know that I love you and I want to share my life with you. The idea of starting a family together makes me really happy, but what matters most is that we’re okay together." Tears streamed down your cheeks, maybe because of the hormone cocktail, or the mix of happiness, love, fear, uncertainty… and he wiped them away with his fingers, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.
"Everything is going to be okay." His words soothed your hyperactive mind. "I love you."
"I know." You said, gently holding his wrists, wanting to keep him close.
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tokyo-tower-symbolism · 2 months ago
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Do you have any ideas abut the symbolism during the sequence in episode 7 when Nana and Maya are talking, when the camera shows a series of kids in various mundane places around the school doing something, and then returns to them but they all look up at the camera? Last time I rewatched the show it stuck out to me as one thing that I Still don't understand the significance of at all.
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So in the scene right before Maya asks to speak with Nana, she is recording Claudine, Karen, Mahiru, and Kaoruko all declare that they are going to take one of the leads in the play this year.
And while Junna and Futaba don't explictly say their own intent, they are still on the side of those who have that ambition, unlike Nana and the rest of the class who are just watching them.
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Now the actual students who later turn to look at the camera aren't their classmates in the scene, at least I don't think they are due to the different hairstyles, but they are Seisho Students, and judging by the script one is poring over, they are probably in the Stage Expression class as well. And before they turn around, Maya is talking about how some will not be chosen, and how terrible that is for them. It then has a close up on an unused locker, probably from one of the two students who dropped out earlier that year.
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And then Maya starts listing Nana's star qualities, her charisma, her wonderful voice, her director's eye understanding of the stage, asks "why won't you-?", bringing attention to Nana.
And that's when everyone turns to look at the camera, or rather Nana.
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Because for the losers of the auditions, Nana doesn't stand with them. Nana should be on the other side, on the stage and not just part of the crowd. Maya is telling Nana that she should take her proper role as a star, and by having the students stare at her, it's showing that this isn't only Maya's opinion. Those who failed at the audition see it too, Nana doesn't belong with them. She should be on the other side with the main cast.
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It then cuts to Futaba yelling at Kaoruko (but in the meta context, Nana) to hurry up and decide. This scene is a turning point for Nana to decide what side of the fourth wall between the stage and the audience she wants to stand on.
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But Nana doesn't take the main stage. Even though she wins the auditions, she goes back to a stage where she isn't the star. She remains as part of the audience, enjoying the show.
When she stares into the camera, she is talking to the giraffe (the audience), but she is also doing the same thing as the losers of the earlier auditions. She is still hanging back and observing those who want to be stars, this time adding Hikari to that initial cast.
Or the cinematography just wanted to be dramatic, idk
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beamergirll11 · 8 months ago
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Rabbit
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Sukuna X You
Synopsis: Sukuna tells you to run just so he can chase you???
Content: Sukuna being confusing and scary af, noncon, dubcon, toxic, fearplay, controlling, possessiveness, extreme dom, amused Sukuna, mean, tag, power trip, smut of course, Does he love us or nah?
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Frozen in terror, you watched as Sukuna materialized from the darkness, seamlessly replacing Yuji. In that instant, the urge to scream for Yuji surged within you, but the knowledge that Sukuna had assumed control held you back. Your throat tightened as you attempted to form words, yet Sukuna spoke first, seizing control of the moment.
"I must admit... it's a pleasure to see you in person, rather than through that insolent brat," Sukuna remarked.
"Yuji... are you there?" You addressed Sukuna, silently hoping that Yuji could break through and regain control.
You observed Sukuna's slight reaction to being addressed as Yuji, followed by a smirk creeping onto his face, "Yuji isn't present at the moment, rabbit..." Sukuna declared, advancing forward.
"Please don’t hurt me." you begged Sukuna, your voice quivering, as you took a step back in fear. Your plea to Sukuna appeared to amuse him, his gaze sweeping over you as if assessing your every detail.
"I can't comprehend the fuss over you," Sukuna stated with disdain. His words left you feeling insecure as you lowered your head in hurt, "Ah, did I wound your pride?" Sukuna asked mockingly.
Meeting his gaze again, you knew running was your only option. But as you turned to flee, Sukuna abruptly halted you, wrenching you back by your wrist. His eyes locked with yours momentarily before he released you, leaving you shaken and confused.
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"Well, what's stopping you? Run, rabbit!” Sukuna taunted, his smirk accompanied by a wild gleam in his eyes. Tears streamed down your face as you obeyed, running away. Glancing back, you saw Sukuna casually strolling behind you, his sinister presence haunting every step you took.
As you raced upstairs and locked yourself in your bedroom, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was all just a twisted game to Sukuna. Frantically searching for your phone, you realized it must have been dropped somewhere along the way. The locked door offered no safety; you had inadvertently trapped yourself, knowing there was no way it could stop Sukuna.
You pressed yourself against your bed, heart racing, as the ominous echo of Sukuna's footsteps filled the room. Suddenly the door was forcefully ripped open causing you to scream out.
"You really aren't very clever," Sukuna sneered menacingly. As he spoke, he held up your missing phone, crushing it in his hand.
"What do you want?!" you shouted at Sukuna, your voice trembling with fear.
He appeared taken aback by your audacity in raising your voice to him. He took a few steps closer, observing as you cowered in fear.
"What do you think I want?" Sukuna inquired, his tone laced with malice. As Sukuna closed in on you, his fingers gently brushed across your chin, his presence looming over you.
"How can someone with such an innocent face possess such a sinful body?" Sukuna remarked, his tone filled with twisted fascination. You gasped as his hand tore your blouse apart, exposing your breasts to his twisted gaze.
“You’re not even wearing anything underneath…” Sukuna observed with a smirk, his gaze fixated on your form. You instinctively began to cover yourself, but Sukuna stopped you, his gaze lingering. With deliberate slowness his hands closed around your breasts, sending a shiver down your spine.
He looked down at you with a sinister grin as he held them, now rubbing them with a disturbing sense of possessiveness. Slowly he leaned down taking one into his mouth, his actions making you feel powerless. Sukuna watched intently as you struggled to suppress a moan.
“You enjoy the sensation of my mouth don’t you?” Sukuna taunted.
“N-No I don’t…” you lied. You gasped as Sukuna’s large hand abruptly reached under your skirt and beneath your underwear. His fingers finding your wet slit, causing a surge of mixed emotions to flood through you.
“Has anyone ever touched you like this?” Sukuna asked. You didn’t need to answer, for Sukuna already knew. His hand left your soaked slit, seizing your neck and pushing you back onto the bed. Sukuna pinned you down by your neck as he undid his pants, allowing his hard cock to spring free.
“You’re going to accept my cock, whether you cry or enjoy it. Either way you’re taking it.” Sukuna asserted firmly. You nodded helplessly, silently acknowledging Sukuna's dominance over you. A smirk played across Sukuna's lips as he observed your acceptance of the situation.
Pushing your legs back, he teased the entrance of your tight hole with the tip of his cock. Slowly, he pushed inside, relishing in the sight of you unraveling underneath him. “Don’t fight it…” Sukuna urged, his tone authoritative.
He started to thrust inside you each pump breaking your composure. Your moans now escaped freely, no longer restrained by any effort to hold them back. With each thrust your tits bounced, echoing the intensity of Sukuna’s movements. He gazed down at you , amusement dancing in his eyes as he listened to your moans.
“Tell me, do you want to run anymore, rabbit?” Sukuna moaned, his voice a blend of desire and dominance. With a tear escaping, you shook your head no, no longer consumed by fear but overwhelmed with bliss.
Sukuna could feel you tighten around him signaling your impending climax, “Do you want to cum on my cock?” Sukuna asked his voice low and provocative.
“Yes!" you exclaimed, utterly surrendered to his control. Suddenly he flipped you over so that you were now straddling him. He now gave you control over the rhythm and movement.
“Then earn it.” Sukuna challenged. You obeyed exerting all your strength as you began to bounce up and down on him. Despite being on top, he still maintained control, Your petite frame barely concealing his.
Finally you erupted crying out in ecstasy, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming on your cock!” You cried out to him as his hands pulled you down intensifying it. Before you could collapse on top of him he began to thrust up inside you.
He chased after his orgasm relentlessly slamming into you with determination. He moaned loudly with a strong growl as warmth spread inside you. His fingers gripped your body tightly, adding to the intensity of the moment as he reached his peak.
It took a few minutes for you to fully realize what you and Sukuna had just done. Carefully, you slowly disentangled yourself from him, keeping a watchful eye as you moved away. His eyes opened, scanning the scene and taking in the aftermath of his actions as he looked towards you.
He watched as his seed pooled between your legs. When he rose he noticed you flinch as he reached out for you. Expecting the worst you closed your eyes as you felt his hand grab a fistful of your hair. Unexpectedly you felt his lips on yours as his tongue slipped in exploring every inch of your mouth.
Once he released you he stood up fully looming over you. He smirked seeing your fear resurface loving the power he held over you. He took a quick stretch, a casual gesture that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the moment.
"Run along, rabbit," he said as he departed from your room, appearing to release you, yet the tension lingered, leaving uncertainty in its wake.
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ivelle-serenity · 6 months ago
Text
Skateboard 11
Wind breaker
fem bodied reader | smut | action | pwp | jayjo/fml | vinny/fml | wooin/fml | joker/fml | hyuk/fml | owen/fml | enemies to lovers | angsty | the other woman (?) | reverse harem | fluff | SLOW BURN! | all characters featured are 18+
✧˖° — windbreaker men
✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.
✧˖° — this is a story not one shot.
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"What the hell are you doing here?" Vinny immediately exclaimed to Demitra as she came out of the restroom. The woman continued walking towards the sofa, wiping her hair. Vinny's face was filled with bewilderment, and he was getting annoyed because there was a woman staying when it should have been him. Demitra couldn't blame him though; it was obvious that Wooin hadn't told him the reason.
"Ask your leader, asshole."
And that infuriated him. Instead of responding to Demitra, he stormed into Joker's room and knocked loudly. He probably knew that his leader was in there, but little did he know Joker might be fucking with that man. Vinny knocked so forcefully on the door, almost breaking it.
But Demitra was mistaken when Wooin came out with a bored expression on his face. Hajun followed him, now dressed. Demitra's cheeks flushed as she remembered what happened earlier, so she just looked away.
"What is she doing here?" Vinny's voice seethed with restrained anger as he spoke to his friends.
"She'll be staying until tomorrow," Wooin replied casually, seemingly unfazed by Vinny's irritation. He turned on the large TV in front of Demitra.
Demitra rolled her eyes, realizing Wooin wasn't going to answer Vinny's question, so she decided to speak up. "They've forbidden me from racing with the Hummingbird."
Vinny froze. "What?" His expression darkened, brows furrowing deeply.
Wooin scoffed, a sarcastic laugh escaping him. "Demitra wants to join your old friends in racing. Can you believe it?" He shook his head incredulously.
Vinny clenched his jaw, his expression unreadable to Demitra. She couldn't tell if he was angry or disappointed by what he had just learned.
"Let me race with them. I won't even take the race seriously," Demitra complained, tossing the towel aside.
Vinny sighed heavily before shaking his head. "No, you'll stay here as they said," he said firmly, causing Demitra's jaw to drop in disbelief.
"Why? Are you all afraid I might beat your crew?" she challenged, her voice sharp.
This seemed to trigger something in Vinny again, his anger resurfacing. "We're not afraid of you. You're just a skateboard girl who knows nothing," he retorted, causing Demitra to look at him incredulously. She shot a meaningful glance at his friends. So they hadn't told him that, too? She clicked her tongue, unable to believe Vinny was once again belittling her.
"what's the problem then?" Demitra spat. "I'm not racing to win. I'm just filling in for Shelly because they're short-handed. And based on the videos, she's not even that fast—"
"She's not what you think. She's not weak," Vinny interrupted almost shouted.
Demitra was taken aback. He had quickly defended her former friend, but when it came to her, Vinny seemed intent on demeaning her. Anger surged within Demitra; she almost exploded. Being underestimated like this was her least favorite thing, especially being told she knew nothing about biking when clearly she knew more than Shelly did.
"Oh yeah? Isn't it a bit unfair that you're quick to think I'm weak, but not Shelly? We're both girls," Demitra challenged, tilting her head mockingly.
Vinny shook his head as he remembered that he had insulted Demitra when they first met at the club. Demitra simply repeated his words from that day.
"I'm done with this," Vinny said, turning to leave, but Demitra spoke up suddenly.
"You're so full of yourself, Vinny. If you think I can't beat you just because I'm a girl, then you're fucking wrong. Even if all of you teamed up, I'd still beat you," she declared defiantly, scanning the room. Vinny halted, fury igniting in his eyes. Wooin chuckled, while Joker observed silently.
"Who do you think you are?" Vinny stepped closer to her. Demitra smirked and met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down as Vinny looked down at her.
"Demitra Roberts. You should do you research properly before talking to me. Dumbass," Demitra quipped, lightly pushing him on the chest before walking away, heading for the spare room. She slammed the door behind her, leaving Wooin amused by the unfolding drama, finding entertainment in it all.
Vinny clenched his fists and stared at the door in disbelief. Wooin's laughter didn't help, especially now that he didn't understand Demitra's last remark.
"You better go apologize to her, man," Wooin tapped his shoulders, but Vinny slapped his hand away as he walked off. Frustration etched his face. He suddenly felt guilty, though he tried to convince himself otherwise. He couldn't believe Demitra had talked back like that.
"And why would I? What did she even mean by that?" He hissed, running his hand through his hair.
"She knows Shelly better than you. They're friends," Joker replied, taking a sip of canned alcohol.
"Ex-friends," Wooin added, adding to Vinny's confusion.
Vinny's heart raced, not out of anger this time, but because he realized he had crossed a line with Demitra. He had insulted her, something he never did even to his ex-girlfriend Yumi. But with Demitra, he had done it. He bit his bottom lip, unable to accept that he was feeling jealous. He had no excuse for his insult when they first met, but now he realized it stemmed from jealousy.
Seeing how close Jay and Demitra had become drove him crazy. With so many people around, why did it have to be that guy?
"Demitra is not just an ordinary skateboard girl, Vinny. She's more than that," Wooin tossed his cellphone, and Vinny caught it.
When he played the video, Vinny's face went pale. It showed Demitra racing against a man. But that wasn't all. There were also clips of her competing with riders from different nationalities. Each time Vinny switched to another video, he witnessed Demitra consistently winning races. What shocked him even more was seeing her use a trail bike, renowned for its challenging handling compared to cross-country bikes.
"Damn it," he muttered, tossing the phone back to Wooin.
Wooin smiled. "She's so fucking perfect, isn't she? Can't wait to make her mine," excitement glinted in his eyes.
Vinny looked at him irritably. "Why didn't you guys tell me about this? Why am I just finding out now?" He was angry.
"What for? Didn't you dislike her anyway?" Wooin scoffed.
"That's still not a reason! If you plan on including her in the crew, I should also know these things ," he almost shouted.
"We're still considering it," Joker shot Wooin a warning glance. "Based on our investigation, she didn't want to join the races and she didn't want to bike anymore. She was forced into it."
"Then why would she join the fucking Hummingbird?"
"Because your old friends are idiots," Wooin said firmly, lowering his gaze. "They don't even know who they're talking to. They should be thankful my plan worked to keep Demitra here until tomorrow, or else I'd be the one fighting those idiots in tomorrow's race if they included her." He jabbed his cheek in frustration.
The next morning, Demitra woke up to the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. Rubbing her eyes, she reached under her pillow for her phone. She cursed under her breath upon seeing a flood of messages in her inbox, mostly from the Hummingbird crew. She rubbed her temples before sitting up in bed.
Mia: hey, are you sure you're coming?
we're getting worried. you're not answering our messages.
Dom: Change of plans. We need to go to school first. Mr. Nam called us for a meeting.
Demitra massaged her temples. "Ah, fuck," she muttered. She hadn't touched her phone last night because of her anger toward Vinny.
She paused when she noticed a message from Jay.
Jay: where are u?
She nervously bit her nails. How was she going to explain that she couldn't make it? And it was already too late for her to join the tournament. She was about to lie back down when her phone buzzed again. It was from an unknown number.
Unknown number: Get out of your room now unless you want me to drag you out myself.
Demitra's blood boiled again at the message because she knew exactly who sent it. There was only one person who could speak to her like that. It was Vinny. She quickly got up and stormed out of her room. She found Vinny leaning against the wall as if he had been waiting for her to come out.
"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at the race?" Demitra snapped angrily. Vinny glanced down at her outfit. She was only wearing one of Wooin's oversized shirts, which revealed her long, creamy legs. She avoided his gaze and felt her ears burn with embarrassment.
"You still have one hour left to get ready. So hurry up," he said, turning away as he played with the keys to his motorcycle in his hand.
"What?" Demitra exclaimed in surprise. She followed Vinny and was shocked to find the bouncers lying on the floor. "You didn't…
"Are you coming or not?" Vinny interrupted impatiently, giving her a sharp look.
Demitra glared at him sharply. Instead of arguing, she calmed herself down. She thought maybe this was Vinny's way of making amends for what he did last night. Perhaps he didn't know how to apologize properly, so he was doing it this way.
"I don't have clothes--"
"Those are your clothes. So you better hurry up before I leave you here. I have no time to waste," Vinny pointed to the sofa filled with shopping bags from upscale brands. Demitra looked surprised, glanced at Vinny, but he was already walking away. She couldn't help but smile to herself.
"Fine, this is just for now, but I'm still mad at you," she whispered under her breath.
Demitra’s mind was filled with questions. Not only had Vinny allowed her to join the race, but he had also taken her to her apartment to grab her wig. Vinny was silent throughout the entire ride, making Demitra uneasy. She wasn't used to them not bickering or arguing. She bit her lower lip as she got off Vinny's motorcycle. They were at Sunny High, and she still couldn't believe that Vinny had brought her to her school.
"Won't Wooin be mad if he finds out you let me escape?" she asked without looking at him.
"I can handle them." Vinny stared at her for a moment before licking his lower lip and looking away. "After this, you'd better come back to us." Those were his last words before he sped off on his motorcycle. Demitra's heart raced at his statement.
When her phone started ringing, Demitra panicked. She sprinted into the building, heading straight for the principal's office. She bumped into several students in her rush. By the time she arrived at the office, she was out of breath. To her surprise, she saw June, Jay, Dom, Yuna, Minu, Aria, and Mia standing in front of the principal's desk.
"I'm sorry I'm late!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest as she tried to catch her breath.
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midnight-bay-if · 5 months ago
Note
How do ROs react if MC sensed that ROs have feelings for MC and says this "If your feelings are sincere, show me with a kiss"?
P.S. The MC has no intention of taking initiative.
S: There is little hesitation. S cups your cheeks with their hands with a surprising grip before surging forward to press their lips firmly against yours. It's decisive and wracked with purpose, much like everything S does. Their passion drives you to gasp, and they seize the moment to increase the intensity, stealing your breath with their tongue. When breathing becomes essential, only then do they let go.
"Will that suffice as enough of a declaration?"
Rain: They curve their finger towards them in a 'come hither' gesture, waiting until you lean forward ever so slightly. Then, with a rogue's smile, they inch their way closer. You feel their breath caressing your skin, your heart hammering as it waits for the inevitable. They watch as you close your eyes; the thrill of seeing you so eager sets their heart aflame.
It makes it all the more satisfying when they press a lingering kiss on your cheek instead. They laugh when you swat at them as punishment.
"Sorry, sorry. Give me another chance? I promise I will do it properly," they say, with their fingers crossed.
Taj: Taj turns their face in the opposite direction, tutting to themselves. Their hand begins tapping on their leg almost subconsciously, with an entire argument playing out in their own head. Where does this human get off? There's only one human who can get away with telling them what to do, and they wear glasses and stupidly expensive suits.
Taj turns back to you, ready to put you in your place; instead, they make eye contact with you, and your earnestness entraps them. At that moment, they realise all you wanted was a reassuring display of sincerity, and it saddened you to think that they weren't.
So, with a grouse muttered under their breath, they close the distance for a hesitant kiss. Heat spreads in their chest with the soft press of your lips, and suddenly, it feels like they can't possibly imagine doing anything else.
N: N can't hold back their smirk. This feels like a dance, and they have already mastered all the steps. Ever since they first met you, they've contemplated kissing you; imagining all the ways they could bring you to their knees as you begged for their touch. It didn't come from a well-intentioned place back then. But now, with your permission, they do not need to hold back.
What comes as a surprise is that the touch they jump to first is one of tenderness.
They lean over, and they see you watching them closely, so they hover just over your lips. Still smirking, they watch and wait as they hear your breathing stutter. Then, with the lightest touch, they kiss the corner of your mouth - if you try to catch their lips, they move further away, pressing subsequent kisses on your cheeks, your nose, your forehead... Your frustration only fuels their desire more and will make the final release all the sweeter.
Umbra: Umbra doesn't understand. Why would a kiss be enough to prove their sincerity? It doesn't immediately compute to them that a kiss can be a promise. To Umbra, a kiss is something for someone else or a fantasy in their imagination. But if a kiss to you is to show sincerity... Perhaps you have not understood them to be sincere this whole time. That cannot stand.
Trying to do their best to mimic what they have seen others do, Umbra takes your hand in theirs, masking their face to show a confidence they do not feel, before pressing their lips to each fingertip. Then, they pull your hand closer until you are forced to wrap your arm around them, your face and inch away from theirs.
Umbra isn't sure whether this will even be pleasant for you, considering what they are. But they hope there is enough life in them to love.
(I hope this was okay!)
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thebiscuitlabryinth · 10 months ago
Text
[prev]
Nowadays, Pure Vanilla has gotten used to his sleep fluctuating wildly between turbulent dreams and sleep like the void itself has swallowed him whole. It seems like a game of chance whenever he rests his head down, and neither option leaves him any less tired the next morning.
Today, his dreams are absurd, swirling and spilling into each other, and vividly upsetting in a way he can't identify. He shut his eyes tight, but that doesn't block out the rest of his senses. He can hear begging, crying, shouting, and the scent of something burning and wilted lilies clashes in the air, creating a suffocating smell that winds around him slow. It is awful, but it is slightly less so, now that he knows how to recognise when he is in a dream. More importantly, he has a question, and he is more than aware of Shadow Milk's lingering presence.
"You founded the study of Dark Moon Magic, didn't you?"
It is a soft question, but one that is sure of itself. Instantly, the sounds and smells and sensations that had been plaguing Pure Vanilla disappear. Pure Vanilla keeps both his eyes closed for the time being, just in case. Tonight, his staff is absent like a missing leg, and he misses the added security of being able to look through it.
"Oh, come on! Don't interrupt the scene, we were just getting to the good part!" Shadow Milk's voice responds with frustration, the sound coming from all sides. It is precisely because it comes from all sides that Pure Vanilla keeps his eyes closed, not quite trusting that the shards of his nightmares have been fully swept away. He doesn't want to find out what Shadow Milk could possibly consider to be 'the good part' amidst the sounds of suffering and anguish.
Instead, Pure Vanilla sighs. "It was your choice to stop everything when I asked that, wasn't it? You can't blame me for that."
"Bzzt! Wrong! I can blame you because you did interrupt. It doesn't matter what I did in response, a disruption is a disruption." Shadow Milk declares loudly, voice a little rougher, as if he was daring Pure Vanilla to argue back. But his voice is now only coming from one source, right in front of him, so Pure Vanilla cautiously opens his eyes to check the surroundings.
He finds himself in the library of Blueberry Yogurt Academy, and nostalgia eagerly rears its head within him, somewhat surprised. He's stood beside a littered table, surrounded by the deep blue bookshelves of his youth and the comforting smell of aged paper. The details blur a little past that, some of the shelves lighter, more like the bookshelves in his chambers in the Vanilla Kingdom, leaving it less like a perfect replica and more like a collage made out of bits and pieces of his lifetimes' worth of memories, but it is mostly the Blueberry Yogurt library.
Shadow Milk is across the table from him, tutting when Pure Vanilla takes too long to reply. He leans his elbows on the table, propping his chin on the bridge of his linked fingers. "Sneaky, silly-Vanilly, trying to use me to get out of your funny little nightmares. Very, very sneaky."
"It worked, didn't it?" Pure Vanilla says, a bit stiffly, because that had never been his main intention, mostly because Shadow Milk isn't nice enough for him to think it would work. No, his main intention is genuine curiosity, and that is exactly why he continues to prod. "...You didn't answer my question."
"Because it's a stupid one." Shadow Milk hums back, tilting his head to the side. He tilts it far enough that his cheek is now resting against his hands instead of his chin. "You should be able to figure that out yourself. Didn't I already tell you where my home is?"
Pure Vanilla doesn't answer for a moment, laying a tentative hand on the edge of the table as he tries to squint at the papers across its surface in the dim lamplight. It takes him a second to realise that they're all forbidden texts on Dark Moon Magic, and when he does, he murmurs back. "It's better to clarify than assume, isn't it?"
This time, Shadow Milk is the one who doesn't answer for a moment, instead staring at him with those piercing eyes. Pure Vanilla can feel more around him, behind him, lurking in the shadows pooling in the nooks and crevices and he can't help it – he shivers slightly.
That reaction must be enough for Shadow Milk, because he snorts, and pushes off the table to lean back, kicking his feet up onto the table and right on top of texts, which is already enough to make Pure Vanilla wince. Poor library etiquette aside, the movement is horribly uncanny to watch, partly because he is leaning back onto thin air instead of a chair, partly because he moves so quickly it's like his limbs snap into place, and partly because his smile is stretched far too thin as he does so.
"Of course I did. I'm very talented, you know." Shadow Milk announces smugly, his eyes never leaving him. They narrow slightly, all of them in suspicious synchronisation, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly. "But I must admit, I am crumbling to know why you brought it up."
Whys are always difficult to answer, especially for something as difficult as motives, which can morph and change over time. Pure Vanilla hates lying, but he hates lying in front of Shadow Milk even more, because he seems to recognise every single one and Pure Vanilla doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.
But he really can't admit the core of the matter to his face. He can't admit that ever since he glimpsed the ghost of Shadow Milk's past, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it. He can't admit that he is actively trying to glimpse it again, and what better way to try and draw it out than with any scholar's pride and joy – their work?
"It's impressive. I, myself, have mastered White Magic over the years, and I certainly contributed to its development, but I cannot claim that I created it as a school of magic." Pure Vanilla explains instead, and it isn't a lie either, just lacking all the details. He fidgets a bit, tugging at his own sleeves, adding quieter. "Dark Moon Magic is forbidden too, so there aren't many detailed sources left on it. I want to know more about its founding."
I want to know more about you.
There is another lapse of silence, and Pure Vanilla is tense with tentative hope. After all, if Shadow Milk was really against the topic altogether, he wouldn't have gone through the trouble of plucking him out of his nightmares.
Shadow Milk's smile is sharp like a knife, clashing with the casual way he folds his arms behind his head, almost languid as he finally muses. "Oh, really? That doesn't sound right. I'm sure there's enough details lying around to get the gist of it. After all, you've used Dark Moon Magic before, so you must know something about it already."
Pure Vanilla flinches back, and it isn't a surprise that he knows about that too, not anymore, but it still leaves him with unstable footing. Regardless, he doesn't let that scare him off the topic, which he suspects is exactly why Shadow Milk said it. "...I've only really used it once, and I don't remember much about what happened. So I may know something, but that something is rather little."
It's a confession, and the truth. His brief tangle with Dark Moon Magic is a complete blur in his own mind, watered down to blinding sensations and a heartache so intense he had felt like he was crumbling. Theoretically, he knows enough about Dark Moon Magic to hold a conversation, but he remembers nothing about it in practise.
"You know who could help you with that?" Shadow Milk asks, seemingly unbothered, but the words curl with open mockery and a smirk. He tilts his head back slightly so he can look down on Pure Vanilla and throws his arms out dramatically. "Our beloved, newly coronated Guardian! She has plenty of experience with–"
Pure Vanilla's heart lurches painfully.
"Don't talk about her!" He interrupts, voice bursting out louder than he expected and panic fluttery in his chest. He doesn't want to hear him tear at her old wounds, even if she can't hear it herself. He knows how vulnerable that cry makes him seem though, and he fumbles to lower his voice to something softer, less shaky. "Don't– please, I'm asking you for a reason."
Shadow Milk giggles, a strange grating sound that climbs higher with each breath, until he is laughing in earnest. He curls into himself, arms wrapped around his middle, and the position looks painful with his feet still planted on the table. Pure Vanilla watches him warily, a little shaken by the mention of White Lily, and wonders if maybe, he was wrong about what he thought he saw in Shadow Milk. He has been seeing more things that aren't there, recently.
His laughter stops abruptly. The stillness that follows is jarring, but doesn't last long.
Slowly – so slowly that it is unnerving, for someone who typically moves as erratically as him – Shadow Milk reaches forward with one hand and plucks a scroll up from the table. He unrolls it with a lazy flick of his wrist, the other end tumbling away over the edge of the table and across the floor. It is a smooth movement, Pure Vanilla notes through the pounding of his heart and his scrambled nerves, a practised motion that speaks of thousands of opened scrolls.
Shadow Milk peers over at the contents of the scroll with an empty, disinterested expression, his legs melting through the table until he appears to be sitting somewhat politely again. The sudden switch to this from his near hysterical laughter leaves Pure Vanilla disturbed, unsure if this is progress or not.
"I wanted to strike a balance between Black and White Magic." Shadow Milk says, his voice a disconcertingly low murmur, almost monotone. While his main eyes remain steadily on the scroll, the rest are eagerly burrowing into Pure Vanilla from all sides. "Black Magic draws from the void, making it unpredictable and destructive by nature, but full of potential. White Magic draws from the moon, primarily, and other celestial sources, making it safer and easier to use, but limited in its purity. If I could find the middle ground, I could harness magic with more flexibility and power but less unpredictability."
Shadow Milk pauses then, his eyes sliding up to stare right at Pure Vanilla, and his lips quirk upwards. When he speaks again, his voice gains a little more character but remains mainly flat, like a poorly-delivered theatrical monologue. "The dark side of the moon was the obvious choice for a source of that kind of power, because it's the natural overlap between the moon and the void. Once you figure out a source for magic, it's simple to find a way to draw from it, and to make it simpler, I had access to the knowledge of the Witches at my fingertips. All I had to do was write everything down, and the school of Dark Moon Magic was born. Easy-peasy!"
Shadow Milk throws the scroll to the side with little fanfare, not even sparing a glance at those ancient texts as they land in a heap of old paper on the floor, uncaring of if they damage or rip. And why would he? They both know this is a dream, and even if it wasn't, he had written that scroll himself.
Pure Vanilla would have cared, dream or not, if he wasn't wholly distracted, reduced to only a wide-eyed blink.
Because Shadow Milk may feign a bored face and voice, as if reading off a report or a particularly uninspiring script, but when their gazes meet, his eyes glitter like shooting stars, sparking with pride and passion and something else.
It captivates Pure Vanilla, the very same shine that comes with a breakthrough for every researcher. It is exactly what he had been hoping to see again, but the sight still leaves him feeling unmoored, even if pleasantly. Intruige and hope swirl within him, and he suddenly finds himself desperate to hold onto this ghost of the past, to make it stay longer and help it spill into the present.
"What does it feel like?" The question comes out before Pure Vanilla can think it through, focused on continuing the conversation before Shadow Milk can pick up his showmanship again in full. "Dark Moon Magic, I mean."
Shadow Milk huffs, a playful grin settling on his face again, and a sickening mix of dread and disappointment trickles through Pure Vanilla as he watches him lean over, crushing more texts beneath his palms. For a scary moment, he expects him to make another quip towards his previous use of the magic, or worse, bring up White Lily again.
He doesn't. Shadow Milk kicks his legs up behind him, so that he is laying on his stomach in mid-air, and cheerfully asks, "How about I show you?"
He doesn't wait for Pure Vanilla to process what he said, let alone reply. He reaches out and ensnares Pure Vanilla's hand, the one normally occupied with his staff, and laces their fingers together. Pure Vanilla doesn't reciprocate the hold, surprised, but only tries a small unsuccessful tug in response.
Shadow Milk's grip is an oppressive pressure, tight but not quite painful. He presses their palms together firmly, and Pure Vanilla gasps.
Magic bursts through the contact, rushing through his jam in a dizzying, warm flood. It is thicker, heavier than the magic Pure Vanilla is used to, thrumming and twisting as if it has a mind of its own, almost scratching at his dough as if trying to consume him, and he can't even concentrate on it because– because–
He can see everything.
Pure Vanilla really, truly can. He can see Shadow Milk's curling smile in front of him, he can see the Faeries having a feast, he can see Black Raisin greeting the moon from one of the Vanilla Castle's towers, he can see Dark Cacao striding through the citadel, he can see White Lily going through her morning routine, he can see his own sleeping body, and places and Cookies he doesn't have the presence of mind to recognise, all simultaneously. He doesn't know what to focus on, doesn't even know how to focus on anything, and his head hurts like it is falling apart.
This is how Shadow Milk has been watching me, he thinks deliriously, the only thought he can manage as he drowns in his sights.
And then, in a snap, he is back in the library with only one scene to see. His vision swims a little at the edges as if it didn't get the message, and he wobbles in place.
Shadow Milk is still holding his hand, but the grip is slightly looser, and the stream of his Dark Moon Magic is gone like a whisper. His grin is sinister and too big for his face, but his eyes still burn like stars.
"Fun, isn't it?" Shadow Milk coos, giddy like it is a shared secret, lifting Pure Vanilla's trembling hand and brushing a kiss to the back that buzzes with Dark Moon Magic. "My very first masterpiece."
Pure Vanilla wakes up disoriented, with a ringing headache and an itch in the back of his hand. White Lily notices his poor state almost immediately when she sees him – wonderful as she is – and she asks if he had a nightmare with that gentle, concerned slope to her brows.
Pure Vanilla adjusts his grip on his staff, leaning against it more than usual.
"No." He assures her lightly, not quite the truth and not quite a lie.
[next]
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