#also what if we fed our fear gods with our own fear because oh boy i do that alot with vast tbh

[argo-bolo]

I was drawing myself as avatars of my top 3 fear enties and I asked @mayonezroulette what his were so I could his as well since we're kinda brainrotted together.

Me: Mainly Lonely (pretty much Martin flavored) and Eye (burdened with knowledge) with a dash of Vast (especially night sky / space flavored) I will go in depth in explaining my alignments of each if you will indulge me

Him: Flesh, Spiral, and Stranger. I feel like it's pretty equal for him, but I'm not the one to explain his choices. I did make his designs because I mused already about us being lonely and flesh avatars

[mscryptix]

Alright another chubby Eddie gremlin!!!

So glad to have you in our gremlin corner!!

Just picture Steve baking trays of cookies and stuff to bring to Hellfire meetings like a good significant other/den mother.

Making everyone a tray to share, but Eddie his own personal dozen or so for himself.

"Why does Eddie get his own tray of cookies and we have to share?" someone asks.

Steve rolls his eyes, "Because I baked love into those cookies, and I love him."

-Clem🍊

Thank you!!! Happy to join in the gremlin hivemind! 🥰🥰

Also this ask: yesss!!!! - so sweet! 💝💝 Also can so easily picture the immediate responding chorus of kids disgusted groaning n moaning, “ew” (Max) “yuuck” (Dustin) and sticking their fingers down their throat making gag/vomit noises (Mike), like geez mum, dad stoooop! You’re so embarrassing god! 😫😫😖😖

Steve would just plant an obnoxiously loud, wet smooch on Eddie’s cheek and retreat totally unphased, while Eddie just looks so rosy cheeked, plump, proud and smitten (secretly, Will, El, and Lucas all think caretaking is the height of romance, n think it’s sincerely, and unironically super sweet & romantic, BUT are totally silent coz NONE! of them are gonna cop to this for fear of risking the ensuing ribbing…)

But oh my god!! The timing of this ask coz I was totally daydreaming along these lines the other day!

Thinking along the lines of Steve and Eddie, feeling out their way when just getting into a relationship, particularly with regard to everyday, simple supportive acts - like, they’ve both been shown to disdain, and look down on each others chosen hobbies in-show - Steve looking down on nerds and associated activities, and Eddie looking down on ”a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets” come to mind..

But they each catch their meaner, reflexive judgments early on, a little shamefacedly, and they mutually & separately make a concentrated effort to really try for each other to at least give what the other likes a good n open-minded chance, it’s still the honeymoon phase and the need to know everything about the other person, and spend as much time together as possible is ~powerful~~

Now Eddie is not stepping foot on a basketball court anytime soon (boy is an absolute flailing unco and I will not change my mind on this, accident prone and could trip over his own feet when standing still) but he really does make an effort and tries to watch games when Steve invites him to….with completely mixed results

He’s good at getting the basics & the rules once it’s explained to him, his brains wired well for that already, but the finer points of the techniques & action & passage of play are lost on him, and he absolutely zoooones, like brain completely on another plane, during the games until Steve addresses him directly or reacts out-loud to something/anything (“oh my god!! EDDDIE!! Did you see that?!” “Honestly Steve..no I didn’t”). But strangely it’s fine, he’ll sit with Steve in (amazingly!shockingly!*) almost silence for the duration of a game, offering up smiles, cheers, back slaps & consolations appropriately, and mostly he’ll just adoringly watch Steve be excited about something he loves. Steve appreciates the effort so much, also likes so much the idea that these are basically covert dates (hashtag the 80s), takes the opportunity to make sure he buys Eddie a tonne of Stadium snacks like hot dogs and pretzels whatever, Steve’s paying for everything (date!!) and keeping Eddie very well fed and all up, they have a good time. Eddie’s with him, and Steve feels heard, seen & loved, and adjacent to that, it’s almost just meditative quality time for Eddie. Watching (“staring in the direction of” in Eddie’s case) basketball is *nice*, but eventually once their relationship is more established - it’s sorta solidified as a Steve-only thing, moreso, becomes a Steve & Lucas bonding activity, which is all good, and Eddie will join if Steve asks but it’s not something they *have* to do together all the time. It’s something Steve loves, and Eddie loves him. End of.

On the flip side - Steve is at a HUGE LOSS whenever a single thing about D&D is explained to him. No matter how many times. Mucks up the names, can’t keep score to save himself, it’s actually in one ear n out the other at record speed, his minds not even like a sieve, but more like a salad spinner turned to 11

It makes him a bit insecure, being unable to reciprocate, not having the type of mind to at least grasp the basics like Eddie was able to quite easily with basketball. Doubly so coz he can see the effort Eddie’s making to be very patient with him.

He gets put out & down on himself briefly, but Steve’s a) resilient, and b) a pragmatist. So whatever! he can’t/won’t join in, can’t find it in himself to follow the campaigns as they happen in front of him** but he has other things he can do to help and be a part of Eddie’s passions!

Hellfire Club consists of hungry, bottomless pits of growing teenage boys (and an Erica, and occasionally guest starring a Max and/or an El), and his likewise ~*growing*~, bottomless-pit-to-rule-all-bottomless-pits, adult boyfriend at the helm.

They have some sort of informal snack roster that no one seems to remember or follow, except for Dustin and Jeff (and also, loudly, unwelcomely, and un-contributing-ly, Max) so inevitably every meeting begins with a 10 minute squabble about who was supposed to &didn’t bring the required snacks, So great! an easy role to step in and fill! A quick calculation of his Family video wages vs the amount of pre-packaged stuff he’d be buying each week on the reg means homemade it is!

So Steve picks himself up, and throws himself into the kitchen!

Steve’s always been okay in a kitchen, and since he’s been interested in Eddie, (interested in taking care of him initially, and then REAALLY 😳 interested in taking care of him) he’s gotten to really enjoy baking, and gotten pretty confident with it.

Nowadays, baking is a stress relieving means, to an often sexy ends, for Steve. The act of baking itself, Steve finds, quiets his mind, so he’ll bake up a storm easily n happily without thinking twice on it. Also, Steve likes collecting and trying new recipes, being adventurous! But he’s still not yet really confident enough in his baking output to release new untested creations on an unsuspecting, and what he knows will be a definitely judgy, audience.

So sadly, I mean, “Eddie?” He’s gonna need a taste tester. 😔 It’s the logical and *only* solution. Only thing for it. 😉

Help me Eddie Munson, you’re my only hope.

Eddie easily acquiesces, with an affectionate eye roll, a kiss, and a knowing smirk.

So begins a new weekly project.

Monday night is dress rehearsal: Monday afternoon Steve will bake a tray of goods, or more, depending on how much would be needed to feed the whole of Hellfire (“Geez Stevie do you really need to make so much the first time round?” “Cmon Ed’s, It wouldn’t be a true trial if I altered the recipe in any way” [he says, despite having already doubled it] “okay darlin, whatever you say”) Eddie’ll saunter in “honey I’m home”-ing from work, come up and hug Steve from behind, soft belly hitting Steve’s back first and squishing up warmly against him, surrounding him, and saying in a deliciously deep voiced whisper “Whatcha got for me tonight sweetheart?” It’s a wonder Steve’s even able to remember the names of whatever goods he’s just baked sometimes

There’s a bit of pretence each time - Steve asking Eddie’s honest opinion as he feeds him each serve by hand:

“I mean maybe the salts a bit much? What do you think Eddie?”

Eddie somewhat breathlessly replying, playing a true critic, like “Hmm maybe babe. Didn’t notice on that last one though. Better try another to really make sure. I’ll pay extra attention this time” no bite is truly enough to say for certain that the recipe absolutely needs no tweaking.

And Eddie will hold Steve to his initial word and insist on eating the whole thing

“God Baby…you sure you can take anymore? You’re looking pretty full, say the word and we can call it a night”

Eddie’s shirts ridden up and Steve’s non-feeding hand is delicately circling Eddie’s massive taut, pale belly

But Eddie will refuse to even unbutton his straining pants, refuse to stop until the batch is truly finished,

“Now, now, Stevie, what are you even saying? It wouldn’t be a true trial if I didn’t try the whole. Unaltered recipe. Wouldn’t want to let all your hard work go to waste”

And Jesus the amount of busted jeans Eddie is going through weekly….Steve’s saving on pre-packaged goods but he definitely feels guilty in a practical way for Eddie’s sake, so that money instead goes towards keeping Eddie comfortably clothed

——————

*maybe not that “amazingly”. Boy is loud and chatty, but clearly has a rich imaginative life, most likely almost catatonic with the weight of his imagination through his whole schooling experience. Eddie WANTS to graduate, can’t seen him as a completely disruptive class presence, primarily a lost one. Quietness might not be totally foreign..initially Steve’s amazed I guess but not once he knows Eddie better

**just side note - the brain barrier Steve faces throws him here, coz when Eddie’s running ideas by him and explaining his DM storylines? He’s hanging on every word! Like “yeahyeah!! Sounds awesome babe! 🥰”then…When everyone’s actually playing & interacting? arguing and in-joking with each other? Might as well be another language, what is even going on…

— So also I’ve got more to this, sorry so much was mostly just table-dressing and setting establishment, but kinkier addition to follow 🙈

[plaidbooks]

Dark Secrets: Secrets Exposed

A/N: Here’s chapter two of vampire!Sonny, and boy oh boy is it a doozy. I have another one planned, but it won’t be for the bingo. Also, the reason this is jumping around so much is because it’s an arc; Karen and I can come back at any time and fill in gaps with short chapters/drabbles.

Anyways, this covers the Monster square in @adarafaelbarba​ moodboard bingo!

Tags: smut, rough p in v sex, blood (is it blood play if he drinks it?), biting kink, marking/bruising skin, squirting

Words: 3105

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @berniesilvas​​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

Three months. They were the longest three months of your life. Sonny never contacted you, and you worried about him every day. Was he compromised? Hurt? Dead? You had no way of knowing, and it kept you up at night. He had to be okay, right? You’d feel if he was hurt, you knew it in your heart.

You were also upset with yourself; the last conversation you had with him was…hard. Why didn’t you just wait a day, tell him how much you loved him instead? And now, what if it was too late to tell him?

There was a knock at your door, and you braced yourself for the worst. But when you opened it to find Sonny standing there, a sheepish smile on his face, you felt such relief that you cried out before launching against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

“Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much! I’m so happy you’re okay,” you exclaimed, pulling him to you in a deep kiss.

He kissed you back just as fiercely, walking you backwards into your place. “I’ve missed you,” he muttered against your lips before kissing you again.

You wrapped a leg around his waist, scratching at his back, and he groaned. You needed him, now more than ever. You wanted him so desperately. But still, he hesitated.

“W—wait a moment, doll,” he said, panting. You gently released him, looking up into his face. His eyes were blown with lust, a mirror to your own. “We need to talk.”

You gave him a sultry smile, leaning against him. “It can wait,” you replied before kissing his neck.

Sonny groaned again, melting under your mouth as you continued to kiss and suck his neck. “N—no; stop, please.” You stopped your assault, leaning back to look at him. “It can’t wait, I’m sorry, doll.”

You moved to sit on your couch, and Sonny stood in front of you, determined to stay slightly away from you. “What is it, Sonny?”

“First of all, what I’m about to tell you is illegal; we’ll have to fill out all the paperwork later. Second, I’m going to talk, and I want you to listen; it’s a lot of information to get through,” he said.

You weren’t sure what to make of his demeanor “Is everything okay? You’re scaring me, babe.”

“It will be, just…just listen.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I lied about the UC; I wasn’t undercover the past three months.”

“What?!” you yelled in confusion; why did he lie? What was he hiding?”

“Please, let me explain; I spent the past three months in a cabin upstate, alone. I…I wanted to sit and really think about our relationship, about what I feel for you. And I—I love you. I love you so much more than I could ever say. You’re the one I want to spend eternity with. I’ve—I’ve never felt like this with anyone before; sure, I’ve had past lovers over the years, but nothing compared to you. I love you, everything about you, your spirit, your intellect, all of it,” he concluded.

You blinked at him. Was he…proposing? After lying about where he was? “Why lie, Sonny? I would’ve understood if you needed some time.”

“Because I—I wanted to make sure I was alone; I’m not done.” He took yet another deep breath, his piercing blue eyes locking to yours. “I wanted to make sure I could tell you this, without the fear of a…scene.” You rose an eyebrow, and he softly said, “I’m not human, doll. I’m a vampire.”

You blinked at him. “A vampire? Like Dracula or—”

“Oh, Dracula is a bunch of crap; a fictional story written by a human. I’m a real vampire; I have fangs, drink blood to survive, live forever unless I’m killed—”

“I don’t see how this is different than Dracula yet,” you replied, stifling a chuckle.

Sonny’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “I’m being serious, here! It’s also highly illegal for me to tell you all of this, since you’re a human.”

“Uh huh. A vampire, you say…” you trailed off, thinking. It did make a lot of sense, with how he didn’t eat or drink often, and why he tended to stay out of the sun. But he still went out and about in daylight, and besides, monsters weren’t real.

He rolled his eyes, then opened his mouth. Your eyes widened as his incisors seemed to grow an extra inch, becoming fangs.

“H—how’d you do that?” you whispered in shock.

Slowly, they retracted to normal size again. “I need them to puncture skin to get to the veins,” he explained.

“You really are a vampire, aren’t you?” you asked, voice hushed.

He nodded. “I am; all those manuscripts I’ve ‘found’? I was around when they were written; that’s why I know history so well, doll. It’s also why I haven’t wanted to move in. I didn’t want you to see that I don’t really eat, at least not human food…. It’s also why we haven’t had sex.”

“Because we’d make some sort of abomination if I got pregnant?” you joked.

Sonny’s eyes widened. “What? No, I can’t have biological kids. But I—I can’t get, um…hard, not unless I feed…. Need the blood and all….”

“Oh…oh! So, it’s not me?” Somehow, this was a relief.

He chuckled in disbelief. “No, it’s not you. I told you, I’ve wanted to have sex with you. I just didn’t think I could go ‘let me feed really quick then come back’.”

You laughed, and he looked at you like you’ve gone crazy. “Well, if that’s all, come here.” You patted the couch next to you, and he seemed skeptical, like this was somehow a trick.

Sonny came around the table to sit on the couch next to you, but he still left space between you, as if touching you would hurt you in some way. “You’re taking this surprisingly well,” he muttered.

You shifted to face him, and you reached out for his hand. He didn’t pull away when you took one of his hands between both of yours. “Dominick, I love you, no matter what you are, human or vampire, or whatever. I only love you.”

“But—but I’m a monster—”

“No, you’re not. You’re my sweet, loving boyfriend. I know you, Dom; I know your morals, your heart. We can talk about what all this means for us tomorrow. Right now, I want you,” you replied.

His eyes widened, and you were sure he’d be blushing if he could—could vampires blush? Gently, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. He seemed stunned, frozen in shock, and you pulled away. His eyes searched your face for a moment before he was on you, lips colliding with yours almost painfully.

The kiss quickly deepened, his tongue easily forcing its way into your mouth. He pushed you down on the couch, kissing you for so long, you thought your lungs would surely shrivel up. Then he was picking you up, carrying you as if your weighed nothing, heading for your bedroom.

Sonny gently laid you on the bed before he ripped—literally tore—his shirt off himself. He climbed over your body, his lips coming back to yours. You scratched at his back, grinding against his thigh as his lips dominated yours.

His mouth trailed down your jaw, nipping as he went. “Pl—please tell me you’ve fed recently. I n—need you, Dominick,” you whined.

“I did, but not enough for this—I never thought this would go so well,” he replied, his voice husky. He pressed a kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. His normally blue eyes were a deep red, and it somehow made him more attractive. “If you want, I can go down on you, then go feed really quick and come back. It’ll be a few hours though; I have to leave the city to find animals.”

You moaned in frustration before a thought struck you. “Feed from me.”

“What?!” Sonny asked in shock.

You smiled softly at him. “Use me, Dominick. Drink from me.”

His eyes were almost completely black with his arousal, the red reduced to a bright ring on the outside of his pupils, and he swallowed hard. “I—I don’t think that’s safe, doll.”

“I trust you, it’ll be fine. Please, babe; I need you inside me, I want you, please.”

His breathing was coming in sharper as his arousal was taking over his rational mind. “And if I can’t stop? If I hurt you?”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. Because I love you, and you love me; I don’t believe you’ll hurt me. It’s okay, Dom.” To make your point, you propped yourself on an elbow, sweeping your hair off one side of your neck before laying back down.

Sonny didn’t notice that he leaned closer to you, only realized when his nose made contact with your throat. He sniffed at you, smelling your sweet blood just under your skin, and his mouth watered.

“That’s it, Dominick. Bite me, drink your fill,” you cooed.

“St—stop tempting me,” he groaned, voice full of arousal. He pressed kisses to your throat before he moved to nuzzle the crook of your neck. His tongue darted out, tasting your skin, and you sighed at the feeling.

“It’s fine; I give you permission. I trust you with my life,” you breathed.

Slowly, you reached up to grip his biceps, his arms caging your body. He sucked and kissed your neck, and you felt his lips move as his fangs grew. “Do you even know how hard it’s been to simply kiss your neck, when all I’ve wanted was to taste you?” he growled, his breath hot on your skin.

“Now’s your chance. Do it; drink.”

He grazed his teeth over your skin as he searched for your vein. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered before he sunk his fangs into you. You gasped in pain as he easily broke skin, your grip on his arms bruising a normal human. His fangs retracted, and he sucked at the incisions, drinking your blood. The magic in his saliva had you seeing stars; it was a mix of euphoria, pleasure, and pain all wrapped into one.

Sonny groaned the moment your blood touched his tongue. He had never tasted anything so delicious in his life. He could easily drink until your body was empty of blood…which is why he made sure to pay close attention to you, your heartbeat. But god, he could never get enough of you, your taste. He barely felt the blood entering his system; he was too distracted with the taste and with your heart. When your grip on his arms started to loosen, he used a great amount of restraint to detach from your neck.

He was panting as he leaned back, licking the blood from his lips. It was only then that he noticed how hard his cock was from just that small amount from you. It was true that he had fed recently, that he didn’t need much more, but he didn’t think that little would be enough.

You gave him a soft smile before you sat up, kissing him deeply. You could taste the coppery tang of blood on his tongue, but you didn’t care; you needed him, now. Sonny pushed you back down, then stood just long enough to undress the both of you before he was back on top of you.

“Are you sure—”

“Fuck me, Dominick, please,” you begged. He didn’t need to be told twice before he pushed into you fully. You moaned loudly at the feel of him inside you; his cock was long, curving to brush up against your g-spot perfectly.

“Ready for me, doll?” he asked softly, feeling your walls expand around him.

You gripped his shoulder, light-headed, though from the feel of him or the loss of blood, you weren’t quite sure. “I’ve been ready for you since the moment I met you, my love.”

His expression softened, and he kissed you deeply before he started to move. You could tell he was holding back, afraid to hurt you; he set a slow pace, thrusting deep into you. Your hands traveled down his back to cup his ass, pulling him deeper into you, and he grunted at the feeling.

“You—you feel so amazing. I love you, I love you so much,” he whispered before trailing his lips down to your throat. He sucked marks into you, and you gasped in pleasure; you had told him about your biting kink, something that you now found hilarious.

“S-same; feels so g—good. Fuck, Dom, move faster, please. You’re not going to hurt me,” you moaned.

He kissed your throat once more before he made his way to the two holes on the side of your neck, a drop of blood slowly dripping down your skin. His tongue flicked out, lapping at your blood, and the pace of his hips went up. He dipped his head down to the crook of your neck, kissing your injury, and you moaned again.

“D—Dominick—fuuuuck!—harder, please!” you gasped, trying to match his pace.

With a great force of will, he pulled his mouth from your neck, instead brushing your hair from the other side. He pressed his lips to your skin, kissing and sucking more marks into you.

You dragged one of your hands from behind him, wedging it between your bodies. You quickly found your clit, rubbing yourself as he fucked you into the mattress. Sonny opened his mouth, biting that side of your neck—without his fangs—and it was enough to send you over the edge. You cried out as you came, liquid gushing from you as pleasure washed through your body.

He propped himself up, looking at the mess you made, then smirked. Taking one of your legs, he threw it over his shoulder, sinking even deeper into you. You screamed his name in pleasure as he pounded into you.

“You got another one in ya, doll. Give it to me,” he growled. You brought your hand back to your clit, but he slapped it away, using his own fingers to rub you viciously. You squirmed as he assaulted your overstimulated clit, crying out at the feeling. You grabbed his wrist, but his arm was like stone; you couldn’t pull him away no matter what you did. You screamed as your orgasm crashed through you like a wave. But still, he didn’t stop.

“One more, doll. Be a good girl and cum for me again, I know you can,” Sonny cooed, his hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers were still playing with your clit, and you shuddered at the feeling. His hips hit yours so hard, you were slowly being pushed up the bed until his free hand gripped your hip, bring you down to meet him.

“Dom—Dominick—! Too much—gonna c—cum!” you warned. He doubled his efforts and you gasped as he pulled another orgasm from you. The hand that was rubbing you moved to your hips, and he jackhammered into you, chasing his release. His fingers gripped you hard enough to leave bruises, and you sure you wouldn’t be walking anytime soon.

He leaned down over you, the sound of skin slapping deafening in the room. And then he was groaning your name, his cock twitching as he exploded into you, filling you with his release. He kept thrusting, milking his balls into you, making you whimper. Then he collapsed on top of you, kissing your neck.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart. That was fantastic,” he muttered. It took him a moment, but he seemed to remember in that moment that you were human, and he climbed off you. “Holy shit, I’m sorry, are you okay? Was that too much?”

You chuckled, your body aching. But it was a good sore. “Fine, fine. Just a little tired—”

“Right, I’m sorry. It’s—it’s been a while. Here, let me clean you.” He stood, scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. His hands were gentle as he washed you carefully, but you noticed his eyes going back to your neck often. Eventually, he had enough.

“I—I have to bandage that bite; the smell of your blood is intoxicating,” he explained before hurrying to your first aid kit.

While he was gone, you assessed the damage in the mirror. Your neck and throat looked like one huge bruise with how many marks he made. But the two puncture wounds on the side of your neck stood out like a sore thumb. All of this did nothing but turn you on more; you loved being bitten and marked by your partners.

“Was I your first?—human, that is. Uh, human blood?” you asked awkwardly.

Sonny came back quick enough with gauze and tape, and he set about cleaning and disinfecting the wound. “Um, no, you’re not. Definitely first time I’ve had fresh human blood in maybe a century. But you just…you taste like nothing I’ve ever had before. It’s, like I said, intoxicating. I swear I could drain you in an instant if I had a little less control.”

“Good thing you have control, then,” you said, chuckling softly.

He finished bandaging you and looked into your eyes. His were a brighter blue than you’d ever seen before, the red completely gone. “I had control this time, and even then, I should’ve been in full control. I shouldn’t have even bit you, should never have tasted your blood.”

“It’s fine—”

“It’s really not. Now, any time I’m hungry, I’m going to be thinking of you and how good you are. Which just means I’ll have to leave for my feedings earlier than before, to not wait until I’m so hungry,” he explained.

You rose a hand to cup his face, your thumb running over his soft skin. “I love you, Dominick, and I trust you. Now that I know what you are, you can do what you need to survive, without worrying about lying to me.”

He melted against you hand, closing his eyes briefly. “You’re right. Now that you know, I feel so much closer to you than before.”

“And tomorrow, we talk; I want to know everything about you, about your life and your world.”

He smiled softly. “Deal. Plus, we must start working on the paperwork; monsters are not allowed to reveal themselves to the human world. There’s a lot of hoops to jump through—”

“Tomorrow. Right now, I just want you to hold me as we sleep, okay?” you asked, hopeful.

His smile grew and he helped you stand. “I will hold you for as long as you want or need.”

[flowesona]

Visitation of a Lover - Yandere! Ghost Taehyung x reader

Happy Halloween! i hope everyone has a great evening and i hope you will enjoy this oneshot 🖤

Life never ceased to pass by. People were born and grew old, created their own families, earned themselves a legacy. Meanwhile, all that Kim Taehyung could do was watch. For hundreds of years he wandered around his estate, because he had nowhere else to go. No one that lived in his house even cared to acknowledge his life or history - he hadn’t heard his name leave the lips of his family in decades, and the portrait he’d commissioned of himself when the house was first built remained tucked away in the attic.

At the very least, he was thankful that he never had to see anything distasteful. The current occupant of his house - a very distant family member - was a mild mannered widower who only ever ventured into half of the rooms of the house, leaving plenty of space for Taehyung to live. The ghost had even been so bold as to start leaving a physical presence - in the dusty studio where he had spent many afternoons writing his diary when he was alive, he’d taken up painting landscape views. There was the slight risk that the old man could walk in and have a heart attack upon seeing a floating paintbrush but considering that he could barely make the trek to the kitchen for a cup of tea, Taehyung was more than happy to take that risk.

“Oh really? Good golly, you have to send me a picture?” Taehyung had been enjoying a light novel in the lounge when he heard the elderly man cheering loudly in his study. Curious, he folded the corner of the page and tucked the book away, phasing into the next room to see what was so exciting.

“A baby boy! Just like I wanted!”

He peered over the shoulder of his kin, seeing his open laptop on the polished maplewood desk. What the old man was so delighted by was an email showing a picture of a small newborn baby being cradled in a woman's arms. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was a new member of the family, but what piqued Taehyung’s interest more was the woman holding the child. Even with her forehead drenched in sweat and her body covered by a not-so-flattering hospital gown, there was something ethereal about her. For the first time in ages Taehyung felt some yearning in his heart.

He wanted… no, he needed to meet her. Maybe this angel could be the salvation he needed, the key to him escaping his mundane existence in purgatory.

It just so happened that through death that they would be brought together.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The elderly resident passed away a week after his great-grandson was born. Unfortunate timing, as he never even got to see the infant. Taehyung, however, was more fortunate, as the wake was held at his manor as per family tradition.

It was at this somber occasion he was able to see the woman who had piqued his interest up close. Maternity had had its toll on her body with her breasts sagging slightly and her figure still slightly bloated but the black funeral dress still looked quite beautiful, Taehyung noted. Interesting, how she lacked the figure most men would desire yet her husband still looked at her as if she was Helen of Troy reincarnate.

He found himself tailing her for the most of the occasion, still keeping a safe distance out of fear one of his fingers could brush against hers and scare her away for good. It was through this stalking he learnt of the young woman’s name - (Y/N).

She was quiet and respectful - as to be expected at a wake - but a bright smile lit up her face when she showed pictures of her newborn child to anyone who asked. It was way more intriguing watching her interact with everyone at the wake than to read one of the romantic books he’d poured over so many times.

“We’ve been reading through the will. And it seems Grandpa Kim left you his estate, rather than the money.” (Y/N)’s father-in-law was speaking to the couple in a hushed voice, drawing the ghost’s attention instantly.

“Really?”

“Well, it was updated quite recently with the birth of your son. I guess he thought by giving it to you, it would make sure the property stays in the family.”

“How do you feel about moving here, darling?” (Y/N)’s partner Seokjin - Taehyung had also learned his name through eavesdropping - asked, cradling her hand within his own.

“I would love to. But what about the dust? Won’t that be bad for the baby?” On god, her voice was as sweet as a nightingale song. How Taehyung longed to hear it for hours on end.

“I’ll clean it for you, silly. But do you think we could live here for the rest of our lives?”

The nod of (Y/N)’s head sealed their fate.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Initially the change in ownership had been a nightmare. Between the seemingly none-stop arrival of moving trucks, the buzz of people helping to put things away and the loud whining of the month-old baby, it was hard to relax. Taehyung felt almost as on edge as the new owners of the house, Yet after many arguments and sleepless nights the couple were settled in.

They seemed to have more appreciation for the house than it’s former occupant, with many of the dusty spaces becoming clean and decorated again. Even Taehyung’s writing room - he’d watched with apprehension at first when they entered the room, but a warm feeling bubbled in his non-existent stomach when he saw (Y/N) taking his paintings and hanging them on the wall. Did she appreciate art just as much as him?

Even if the couple had settled properly, the one person who was still restless was their infant. The baby boy would often wake up in the middle of the night and wail loudly, leading one of the parents to climb out of bed and hush him back to sleep. This routine nearly drove Taehyung up the wall, as his peaceful naps were often disturbed by the cry of a hungry infant. It had been a while since there had been an infant living at the manor and Taehyung still had yet to adjust to the noise level.

“There’s milk in the fridge if he wakes up, and nappies are in the second drawer down in the nursery. Feel free to help yourself to anything in there, except the Sauvignon of course. We’ll be back at about 11PM, thank you so much for helping us!”

Taehyung was too distracted by the sight of (Y/N) dressed up so elegantly in a sleek black dress to process what she was saying to the spotty-faced teenager standing before her as Seokjin slipped on his shoes.

“No worries Mrs Kim.” The teen responded. With one last fret about the child, the couple left to get in the taxi, and the house felt like it had lost all of its life.

Taehyung wished he could trail after (Y/N) as he usually did, but being confined to the manor meant he had to seek out the next best thing.

The nursery had been fully made over by (Y/N) and Seokjin within a week or so of moving in. Gone was the Georgian wallpaper, replaced by a coat of blue paint and decorated with twinkling moons and stars. Taehyung approached the coat, his fingers brushing the plush mobile over the cot and watching it spin.

He heard the gurgle of the baby below him, glancing down to see the blinking brown eyes gazing back up at him. Perhaps not directly at him, but it was enough to make Taehyung double back in shock. He reached down into the cot and placed one of his cold hands on the baby’s face. Its response was a delighted giggle, as if his touch was ticklish. Taehyung chuckled, poking at the child’s ribs to see him scrunch up his tiny legs. Suddenly, gazing into the little boy’s eyes Taehyung knew what he’d been missing in both his alive and undead life. A real family, someone he could speak to and someone he could love.

He wished he could pick up this child and coo over its chubby cheeks with his wife. He wanted to write poems about his love for life, he wanted to fall asleep holding someone at night.

But not just anyone would do. He knew, he just knew, it had to be (Y/N). She would be his, and he would be hers.

However, whilst Taehyung was pondering this, the child was growing uncomfortable and it startled the ghost back into reality with a loud cry for attention. He glanced down at the child, panicking at the sight of tears running down its cheeks. Luckily, it seemed that the young boy was only hungry, as the room still smelt like fresh linen.

‘It’s okay. The babysitter will sort him out.’ He told himself.

However, after several painful minutes of waiting there was no sight of the teenager leading Taehyung to search the house for him. He found the babysitter lying on the couch fast asleep, a movie playing on the TV and an abandoned bottle of beer on the coffee table.

‘Pathetic’. Taehyung scoffed to himself. ‘I’ll do it myself.’

He found the bottle filled with breast milk that (Y/N) had left in the fridge, the teat already attached. With one last glance at the passed out teenager, he picked up the bottle and made his way back to the nursery.

It must surely be a jarring sight to see a floating bottle of milk, and furthermore to be picked up and fed by an invisible person. However, the baby didn’t seem too disturbed, happily drinking the milk and burping without a care in the world.

After the infant was fed he started to nod off the sleep again, and Taehyung gently laid him down in the cot. He gently traced over the warm cheek of the child before leaving, the most happy he’d been in his life.

He spent the rest of the evening waiting on the sofa for (Y/N) to return. Whilst the TV was showing some action movie, Taehyung couldn’t find it in himself to become interested in it. Not when he had much more pressing issues on his mind. His mind was flurried with the realisation of how he felt. How could he love someone when he’s dead? How could he win the heart of (Y/N) when she couldn’t see him?

Luckily he wasn’t left to stew in his thoughts for too long - as the clock crept around to ten o’clock the front door opened and shut as (Y/N) and Seokjin returned home. Her face was creased with worry as she crept up to the nursery to check on her darling child, whilst Seokjin stayed to pay their now conscious babysitter who had hidden all traces of delinquency and was happily accepting his payment for doing nothing.

Taehyung, as always, chose to join (Y/N) in the nursery. He stood by the doorway, watching as (Y/N) bent down to press a kiss to her beautiful sleeping child. Then, unable to resist he approached her and rested his arms on her waist. He felt her shiver slightly at the cold touch of his hands and for a second the melancholy of his situation hit him like a truck. But Taehyung couldn’t let it haunt him, not when the warmth of her skin under his hands made him more at peace than he had been for years.

She stumbled slightly as she left the nursery, the evening’s drink hit her harder than it usually would, but Taehyung’s hands steadied her. Whilst he secretly savoured the feeling of her body in his hold, he was more concerned about how unstable she was - most likely due to having not drank alcohol in over a year.

Seokjin still hadn’t returned to his wife’s side, and for that Taehyung was both grateful and condemning of the man - he despised how the man could be married to such an ethereal woman and not spend every waking moment by her side, but he was grateful to be able to fill that role. He gently guided her towards her bed, scared that she could fall, and once she had flopped onto the bed lay down next to her, admiring every one of her features as she fell asleep still in her fancy clothes and makeup.

Taehyung had waited hundreds of years to find his purpose in life, and now that he’d found her he knew he would do anything to make her happy.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had become increasingly stressed since she returned to doing work, Taehyung noticed. Sure, it was only part-time and luckily they were happy for her to work from home meaning she didn’t need to get a new job. However, the incessant demand for attention from the young infant meant she rarely had a moment to rest her feet.

Taehyung wasn’t going to stand for it. Occasionally on the nights that his loneliness got to him, he would press his hand to her forehead only to find it hot and drenched with sweat. She was working herself to death, no doubt about it. And whilst Taehyung secretly longed for her to join the land of the dead with him, it wasn’t her time.

Thus, to take some of the stress off her back, he started to help out around the house. At first, it was minor things that (Y/N) wouldn’t think twice about. Putting dirty laundry in the basket, washing the dirty breakfast bowls, retrieving the toys that precious little Si-woo had thrown across the room, turning off the stove when she accidentally left it on. Seeing the positive effect these had on (Y/N), he started to get bolder in his actions - making her lunches (and letting her assume that it was Seokjin making them in the morning), taking out the garbage, shushing Si-woo when he started crying. All things Seokjin couldn’t do, that Taehyung would do everyday for her if she could only love him.

Spending time with her son was a new favourite hobby of Taehyung. He could stare at those twinkling eyes that inherited from (Y/N)’s for hours. He found that as the son grew he became more playful, and Taehyung was more than happy to keep the little tyke entertained. It was a risky game - if (Y/N) walked in and saw her son’s toys moving by themselves she would no doubt call an exorcist but with the delighted giggles that Si-woo made it was more than worth it.

However, with the increasing time he spent with (Y/N) Taehyung had a first hand seat to watching her relationship with Seokjin deteriorate. At first, it was just the lack of intimacy - Seokjin would often get home late, and by that time both (Y/N) and the baby were asleep leaving him to heat up whatever (Y/N) had made for dinner. When Seokjin woke up in the morning, (Y/N) had already been awake for hours caring for Si-woo. Seokjin missed everything, from Si-woo’s first teetering steps to the adorable way that he had said his first word: ‘dada’.

Then there was the argument.

“Have you seen my copy of ‘Eileen’?” In fact, Taehyung had borrowed it. Not only did he find the modern fiction way more interesting than his old romantic novels, he found it comforting to thumb the pages where (Y/N), much like he did, would fold the corners to save her progress.

“No. Where was the last place you left it?” Seokjin replied, not seeming nearly as interested in the issue as (Y/N) wanted him to be.

“I swear I left it on the dresser. Can you help me look for it?” She sighed in reply. Seokjin didn’t move.

“Is it such a big deal?”

Taehyung decided to leave his cozy chair in the corner to join (Y/N)’s side. He wasn’t sure, but he hoped she could feel his presence, to know that he was there for her even when her husband wasn’t.

“I just wanted to read it today. I was at a really good point.” His lover’s voice had a defeated tone to it, as if the book was her last hope in life.

“I’ll get you another copy. Come back to bed, (Y/N).” Seokjin purred, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“Why are you so selfish?” She suddenly snapped. “I feel like I do everything around here. I do all of the housework, I look after Si-woo all day long and I still find time to do my job! When was the last time you let your precious hands touch something domestic?”

“You think that I want to be away from home so much? I wish I could spend more time with my family but in case you forgot being in charge of a firm is actually quite demanding!” Seokjin stood up, his tone matching her aggression in a second.

(Y/N) paused, her eyes scrunching up as if she was going to cry.

“What happened? What happened to us that has made us this way? Why… why don’t I feel like you love me anymore?”

The sadistic side of Taehyung wished he could frame the scene and hang it up on the wall forever. The look of horror on Seokjin's face was simply priceless.

“You don’t mean that.” He said, trying to be firm only to have his voice shake with every word. “(Y/N), you can’t doubt my love for one second. Please.”

His wife just breathed out, rubbing at her eyes.

“I need a break.” She finally said. “I need to leave for a few days. Please.”

Seokjin looked hurt, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll look after Si-woo. You just need to look after yourself.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Taehyung was fuming. Half an hour after the Kims had argued (Y/N) had packed a small bag and left to stay with “some family”, allowing her husband to give her a small peck on the cheek before she left.

It was torturous for Taehyung, thinking of how much time he would have to spend away from his (Y/N). Although he was glad that she was going to have a break, the entire situation could have been entirely avoided if she had never married Kim Seokjin. If only she could have married Taehyung instead, he would’ve made sure she would never had to lift a finger and her every wish would be his command. Instead he could only have an invisible presence in her life, whilst she was stuck with a deadbeat husband who seemingly left all of the parenting to her.

Taehyung felt sick to his stomach seeing as he watched Seokjin act on his words, taking the next few days off work to look after his son. It just wasn’t fair, how he could talk to the toddler and get a babbled response or how he could hold out his arms and Si-woo would stumble towards him. Seokjin didn’t deserve fatherhood, Taehyung concluded. (Y/N) deserved a loving husband and father to her child and no matter how many hours Taehyung spent over the three days watching the broken family whilst (Y/N) was gone, nothing could convince him that Seokjin was the right match.

Seokjin had had a call from (Y/N), telling him that she was going to return home in a few hours. The giddy smile on Seokjin’s face as he told Si-woo that Mommy would be home today and they were going to help make her a special meal was just disgusting to Taehyung. No way did this pathetic excuse for a husband deserve to have (Y/N) back.

Taehyung sat at the table plotting what he should do as he watched Seokjin cook a meal to welcome (Y/N) back, as his adorable son sat on the counter and watched. He didn’t want to do anything in front of Si-woo, that would be too cruel. But he had to stop Seokjin in some way, and all his plans ended in the same result - killing him.

He could pour bleach down his throat. Or he could spill some oil onto him and set him alight. Or he could strange him with one of the curtain cords. All valid solutions to the problem.

“Daddy just has to go pee. Are you happy sitting in your playpen for a few minutes, hmm?” Taehyung’s murderous lines of thought were broken by the sound of Seokjin’s cheerful voice cooing to his son.

Finally, an opportunity. He could end Seokjin’s life in the bathroom, and Si-woo would be none the wiser as to where ‘Daddy’ was.

He waited until the scoundrel had placed his son in the playpen and left the kitchen before approaching the magnetic knife rail and plucking a decently sized blade from it. Taehyung then trailed a few metres behind Seokjin as he made a beeline for the bathroom - he couldn’t get too close, no doubt Seokjin would be immediately alarmed and his plan for subtly would be ruined.

When he finally reached the bathroom he cursed when it was closed (although luckily enough not locked) - whilst he could easily float through the door, his knife would not be able to and thus to enact the plan he swung open the door.

Seokjin turned around, slightly concerned at how the door was open when he was so sure that he’d closed it. Disregarding it as a draft he zipped up his trousers and was just checking his hair in the mirror when suddenly there was a force gripping his throat. His eyes darted side to side trying to find some answer but all he found was air. He wasn’t left in the dark for long, however - Taehyung would love to make the scumbag suffer but he didn’t want to risk (Y/N) walking in on the unfinished scene.

Thus, in one swift move he slit Seokjin’s throat and pushed him towards the bathtub, his victim’s body hitting the rim of the tub with a satisfying ‘thunk’. (Y/N)’s pathetic excuse for a husband’s last moments were agonising, his eyes wide with shock and confusion as he choked on his own blood. But before Taehyung had fully gotten to enjoy the pain of his rival’s death, life had drained from Seokjin’s eyes and his body slumped over. Taehyung drifted over to place the bloody blade in the corpse’s right hand, and as a final touch he wiped up the drops of blood that had fallen onto the ground just a little too far away to be believable.

Content with what he’d done, Taehyung left to visit Si-woo. The toddler seemed happy enough playing with his toy alpaca to even notice his biological father’s disappearance. Rather, he was delighted when he felt an invisible presence pinching at his cheek, letting out a hearty giggle. Taehyung managed to keep him occupied for the next hour, until (Y/N) returned.

Taehyung's non-existent heart thumped at a thousand beats a second when he heard a car drawing up on the gravel drive, and the car door slamming home announced that she was finally back.

“I’m home!” She called out, the only response she got being some babbled nonsense from Si-woo. She walked into the living room to see her son, smiling at first but the smile dropping off her face when she couldn’t see anyone else.

“Hey precious!” She cooed, scooping the toddler into her arms. “Where’s daddy?”

She didn’t hear the normal witty response from Seokjin nearby, leading her to click her tongue in annoyance.

“Did daddy really leave you all alone? That’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”

“Not at all.” Taehyung quirked back, scowling at how she seemed to have completely forgotten how neglectful of a father Seokjin really was compared to himself.

Evidently having not heard Taehyung’s comment, (Y/N) started to search for Seokjin, finding his abandoned cooking (although thankfully the bastard had turned off the stove). Taehyung just trailed behind her as usual, holding his breath as if she would be able to hear him.

After calling out for her ‘husband’ a few more times, (Y/N) gave up.

“I guess he got called into work. So much for spending time with his family.”

She made her way up to the nursery, placing Si-woo back down on the floor.

“Mommy just had a long journey, so she’s going to go to the toilet and then she’ll get you some dinner, okay?” (Y/N) said softly to the child, as if she expected a response. Si-woo just looked up at her innocently, completely oblivious to all that was going on except his own hunger.

Taehyung realised, as (Y/N) was walking away, that she was headed in the direction of the bathroom Seokjin had used and she was about to find his body. Upon that thought he followed her, hoping to support her when she found the grisly scene.

However, the shrill scream he heard when he was mere metres away from the room told him he was too late.

(Y/N) fell to her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks as she surveyed the situation. She was frozen still, unable to stop screaming until her voice was hoarse. Taehyung took the initiative to kneel beside her and rub his hand on her back. (Y/N) didn’t even seem to notice, not flinching from the cold as she usually did. All she could do was bury her face in her hands and weep at the sight before her eyes. And as much as it hurt Taehyung to see his (Y/N) in pain, his heart was telling him he’d done the right thing.

Now, (Y/N) needed him. She couldn’t survive as a single mother, not when she was struggling already when Seokjin was alive. But Taehyung believed with all his heart that he was more than fit to take on Seokjin’s role, as a father, as a husband, as the only one in the world who could truly love her.

[montrealmadison]

t'étais réel parce qu'il t'aimait

or, “you were real because he loved you”

i work at a place that accepts children’s book donations, so when “the velveteen rabbit” came across my desk the other day, the beginnings of this popped into my head. then the lovely lau at @weneedtotalkaboutfic​ posted this and also this about ftm!bitty and my brain just took off! enjoy <3

“Has her fever gone down?”

Bitty blows out a long breath and twists around to look at the clock, on the off chance that it’ll give him a better answer than the truth—but all it tells him is that it’s 8:07, and he’s exhausted.

“No.” He pins the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so he can dry his hands. “Hasn’t budged all day.”

On the other end, his mama hums sympathetically. “It will, baby. Y’all are doin’ everything right.”

“Thanks,” he sighs, folding the dishtowel over the oven handle. “It’s just—I hate that she’s so uncomfortable.”

Bitty used to think that he’d made his peace with chaos. He’s moved schools, changed sports, reinvented himself half a hundred times. He’s come out on national television and transitioned publicly on the Internet. He’s written a book, is in the process of drafting another. He’s married to one of the most prominent NHL players in the league, for crying out loud.

But sick toddlers, Bitty is learning, are a whole other hockey game.

read more below or on ao3

Thankfully, at least the kitchen routine is muscle memory at this point: pots dried, dishwasher started, dog fed and watered for the night. The mess in here isn’t too bad, all things considered. He checks the lock on the back door and then lets himself sag against the counter, just a little. It’s been a day. A week, really. He's barely slept for the stress of it all.

“Dicky, honey, you sound like you need a break.” He can picture the frown on his mama’s face when she says it. Funny how her voice still feels like a hug from seven states away. “How’s Jack? Is he alright?”

“Mhm,” he says. “Upstairs puttin’ Ellie to bed, bless him.”

“Good. Well, listen, y’all call anytime if you need us, alright? Your daddy and I will be up, we’re goin’ to the Callahans’.”

“Ooh. Save the good gossip for me?”

“You know I will,” Mama promises with a laugh. “Now go on and sit down for me. I love you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Love you too,” Bitty says, almost absently, and flops onto the couch as the line clicks into silence.

He tries to relax—promise, he really does—but he only makes it about five minutes before the worry wins out and he has to get up again. He just can’t sit still today, especially when he hasn’t heard anything from upstairs in so long. He climbs the stairs and starts down the hall towards Giselle’s room, but pauses and peeks around the doorframe at the soft sound of Jack’s voice.

In the dim light, he can just make out Jack’s giant form carefully folded to fit into Ellie’s bed, one foot planted firmly on the floor to keep him balanced. Bitty presses a hand over his mouth, trying to resist the sudden urge to laugh at the sight of his husband trying to fit in a bed made for a toddler. Thankfully, it works, because neither Jack nor Giselle notice him—their daughter’s curled up next to her papa, tired and sleep-soft, with her flushed little face on Jack’s chest and her slow-blinking eyes fixed on the book in his hands.

The dog’s on the floor in here, too, tail thumping away against the carpet. He huffs, looks up at Bitty with big, understanding eyes as if to say: We got it in here.

Which is clearly the case—they’re already in the middle of a story. Jack is reading in soft, measured tones: “And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long.”

It's the French translation, but Bitty feels himself melt almost immediately. He’d recognize The Velveteen Rabbit anywhere. It’d been his favorite as a baby, part of the reason his mama had come home one day with Señor Bun, and—well, the rest is Bittle family history. He leans in the doorway, closes his eyes and drifts while Jack reads.

He’s had a lot of time, now, to learn the differences between French Jack and English Jack, and why each language is important to him—especially where teaching his children is concerned. In French, his voice is softer, lilting, expressive in a way that transfixes Giselle and Bitty alike. Bitty himself has fallen asleep to the sound of that voice many times, and is mostly impressed that Ellie can still fight her own exhaustion just to listen a little longer.

Jack turns the page, and Bitty watches as his face and his voice soften with emotion at the next line: “And then, one day, the Boy was ill.”

Oh. Bitty remembers this part well, too—remembers the feeling of his own mama curled around him when he was sick as a kid. Remembers Coach’s shadow in the doorway, his quieter concern, his gentle hand on Bitty’s shoulder. Jack goes on: “But the Rabbit snuggled down patiently, and looked forward to the time when the Boy should be well again, and they would go out in the garden amongst the flowers and the butterflies and play splendid games in the raspberry thicket like they used to.”

Bitty remembers Señor Bun, equally patient, snuggled up under his chin, and has an idea. He backs quietly out of the room and retreats down the hall to their bedroom, where the bunny himself is propped on the pillows, waiting for them to come to bed. Bittly inhales the familiar scent of the fabric, looks into his bright embroidered eyes. He swears they look understanding somehow.

“You ready to work your magic, buddy?” he asks. “Let’s go.”

Jack does notice him this time, eyes crinkling in acknowledgment when he sees Bitty in the doorway. His voice is getting softer now, the words slowing in time with Giselle’s blinks, and Bitty crosses the room to lay Señor Bun in their daughter’s arms.

Neither of them move until they’re sure that Giselle is asleep at last; even then, Jack extracts himself from the bed as quietly as possible, smoothes the covers over her with a feather-light touch. When they meet in the hallway, Jack presses his face into Bitty’s neck. They stand there in the quiet, breathing together, for a long time.

“How is she?” Bitty finally asks.

“Hot,” Jack says, frowning. “I gave her another Tylenol.”

Bitty sighs deep, presses his forehead into Jack’s chest. “Mm, okay. Let’s hope she kicks this soon.”

“She will,” says Jack. “She’s our kid, that’s gotta count for something, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Despite himself, Bitty finds that a smile comes easily enough. It always does with Jack’s reassurance. “Gotta be tough in this family.”

Jack laughs lightly. “Yeah.”

They retreat to their bedroom, turning off lights as they go. Their nighttime routine, too, is as comfortable as breathing now. When Bitty comes back from brushing his teeth, he finds Jack in bed, reading glasses on, still flipping through The Velveteen Rabbit.

“I’m glad you picked that one for her,” says Bitty slowly. “That was my favorite book as a kid.”

Jack turns it over in his hands, looks up at Bitty with warmth in his eyes. “This one?” he asks, smiling. “That explains Señor Bun, eh?”

“Yeah.” Bitty has to swallow around a sudden lump in his throat, and almost immediately finds himself blinking back hot tears. He bites his lip. “Well, and I, um—no, it’s stupid.”

“Bits?” says Jack, concerned. He closes the book and sits up. “Hey, no it’s not. Why else was it important?”

Bitty looks down. “I used to want to be Real,” he says, all in a rush. “Just like the Rabbit. Used to wish there’d be a fairy that would see how unhappy I was, and come and—oh, Lord—”

It’s like a switch flips in his brain; all of a sudden he’s crying in earnest, days of pent-up stress and fear rushing past the floodgates at once. Jack makes a soft sound and holds Bitty close, letting him cry it out, rocking him just a little. His hands are big and warm on Bitty’s back.

“Shh, bud, hey,” he says. “That’s not stupid at all.”

Bitty sniffles and scrubs at his eyes, lets out a burst of slightly hysterical laughter. “I—God. I don’t know what it is, I was looking at you and Ellie and—I don't know, I just wish the person I was when I first read it could see me now. I wish that little kid hadn’t had to go through all the shit I did to get here.”

Jack doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls back a little. Bitty looks up, confused—but Jack’s just reaching behind him to grab the book off his nightstand, flipping through it until he finds the page he wants. Then he puts an arm back around Bitty’s shoulders and pulls him close, kisses his temple.

“Generally,” he reads, in English this time, “by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”

He fixes Bitty with those bottomless blue eyes. "I hope you'll let me keep telling you," he says slowly, "that it all meant something, bud. You made yourself real. You gave us our daughter."

Bitty laughs, watery. "I did."

"You did." Jack kisses him again, soft and full of meaning. "And I promise I'll never stop trying to understand."

[nanaminsonyfans]

⛓️Taken⛓️

Masterlist ✨ Requesting Rules

Request; Hey can I request a wei beifong x metal bender!reader were when they are fighting the red Lotus she gets captured and tortured? He goes crazy trying to find her and when they do she is badly hurt. I just want some angst with fluff at the end.

A/N; oh hell yeah. this is ANGST at it’s finest, we love a man in uniform to kick some fucking ass, also in this oneshot we are going to pretend they stayed in zaofu for like two months ^^ rock and roll buckroo

Pairing; Wei Beifong x Fem Metalbender!Reader

Warnings; Kiddnaping, torture, angst, descirption of wounds, cursing

Honestly, everything seemed okay at the time. You were apart of Team Avatar, just growing up as a kid on the streets you found Bolin and Mako, and they decided to take care of you. Birds of a feather stick together. Because you were apart of Team Avatar you got to travel with them to find the rest of the new airbenders. Asumi appreciated having a metalbender on a metal airship. Like, if there’s a dent you’ll bend it out ya know?

Being a metalbender meant you are also an earthbender, you never really liked bending rocks and stuff, plus you could manipulate metal into whatever you imagine. Knives, swords, bracelets, literally anything. When you arrived at Zoafu, you were amazed by how everyone manipulated the metal. A boy had caught your eye, his name was Wei Beifong. He was a twin to a brother named Wing, both the youngest of the family. That was amazing to you, being the youngest one of this entire group.

You both had a lot in common, shared the same sense of humor and competitiveness. You clicked immediately. Fell in love even, he was the flirt that always made you blush. “You look amazing today.” “Green is a great color on you.” “Wow, do you just metalbend? Because something else his bending up.” You always got flustered and stopped what you were doing. If you were bending while he said any of that? It stops immediately and the metal crashes to the ground.

Wei finally asked you out, and you became his girlfriend. You were so fucking happy and so was he. The relationship was amazing, everything was so pure and loving, practicing bending together, cuddles, power naps. Everything with him made you happy. Everyone was so happy for you, Mako and Bolin has never ever seen you that happy. Your smile was simply beautiful and everyone noticed. Korra, your close gal pal noticed more, happy about it. 

Everything changed when the Red Lotus attacked.

Korra was being abducted by them, and because you shared a room with the young Avatar, they took you as well. Knocked you out by hitting your head since they didn’t have another tranquilizer. Your head was bleeding from the force of the blow to your head, leaving a small droplet trail of blood. Pabu woke Mako and Bolin up, both waking up to fight and hopefully save both of you. 

They all tried their best, Wei fought with his aunt and mother to let him go down to save you but being a mother, Suyin refused. They weren’t able to get you, they were fast but Ming-Hua was faster, basically encapsulating your body in water. Bubbles of oxygen rose up to the top, everyone watched in horror as the last bubble rose from your mouth and nose. 

The Red Lotus immediately took you to the hideout that would eventually hold Korra. You woke up to a burning sensation in your chest, you rolled over and started to vomit up water mixed with the last thing you ate. Your head was pounding as you finally regained your vision that was blurry. Your clothing wasn’t the same as what you had on when you went to sleep the other night. More like rags. 

“Don’t bother trying to bend.” A man’s voice said, causing you to flinch and turn towards the voice. A man with tanned skin, broad shoulders, long black hair, and a small and thin mustache. You didn’t recognize this man so your face of confusion caused him to sigh. “I am Ghazan.” Okay, that name rang a bell. You heard of him from adults while growing up, he’s an earthbending master with the unique ability to lavabend. Metalbending was already a substyle of earthbending, but he was the only one you have ever heard of that could lavabend. Even growing up you thought it was a myth.

He also was a criminal, everything was making sense now. You tried to stand up but your chains and registrants only jiggled. “Yuh-You don’t know who I-I am.” You state, fear overtaking your body as if you could sense his power, and that fucking scared you. “You don’t think an earthbending master can’t tell one of their own?” Your eyes widened in which Ghazan just smirked and chuckled softly. “I didn’t know which type but, your face confirmed that suspension.” “Bastard.” You mumbled under your breath earning a slap to the face. “Watch your tone. You are not in control here.” 

Your eyes watered from the hit, your left cheek started to sting from that slap. You tried to bend the chains away to no avail. “Yeah keep trying, you can’t bend platinum.” Ghazan taunted and backed up to the doorway. That’s when you realized you were in a wooden cage, suspending above the ground. You started to panic. “What do you want with me?! I’m not important.” You yell, thinking that they could let you go, they obviously wouldn’t.

“We’ve been doing our best.” Kuvira said to Wei Beifong, who had been worried sick for you for two weeks now. “Well try HARDER.” He hissed and stormed off. “Wei…” Wing sighed and ran after his brother. “Listen, we all care about her and we are looking for her but there’s only so much we can do.” Wing explained to his brother that was now fuming with hatred and anger. “You didn’t care for Y/n the same way I did! You don’t understand how I fell! The person I love his captured and possibly being tortured-” His voice cracked as a few tears rolled down his cheeks. “I don’t even want to think about it.” He sniffled and quickly wiped his eyes before turning down the hall.

Your screams were deafening, this was mostly because Ghazan was burning you with lava, Ming-Hua delicately stabbing your sides with ice spikes, and Zaheer suffocating you then letting you slip unconscious. You felt so weak, like you were on the verge of death but they wouldn’t let you die. That was the worst punishment for you. You just wanted to die or see your friends and boyfriend again. Blood trickled down your leg as you blinked back tears from the spike stabbing your left thigh. Your throat was raw from screaming, so you didn’t even bother with it. Why scream? It’s been clear for weeks that no one was coming to your aid.

To your understanding, it has been five weeks since they originally brought you here. Yes, you were fed, dressed, cleaned, and you had been given water, but doesn’t mean the torture ever stopped. Each passing week they took their frustrations out on you, until you heard other’s come, murmurs of them being Airbenders. ‘Opal, oh my god Opal is with the airbenders.’ 

“Opal! Jinora! Ikki!” You scream, your voice cracking and raw, that’s when you saw then, under your cage. Oh no, these bastards took children? You weren’t anywhere close to the ground so you couldn’t even help them, shit. “Y/n? Oh my spirits you’re okay!” Opal said happily and looked up at you. “Wei? Is-Is he okay?” You whisper weakly and grip the wooden planks with your bloody and bruised body. “He’s worried, hopefully they’ll be here soon…”

It was easy, Korra is going to let the airbenders go and then they would reveal your location. Wei was nervously waiting along with the rest of the Zaofu soldiers, shaking from the anticipation and worry for his girlfriend. “She better be alive.” He mumbled under his breath as they waited on the side of the cliff, remembering the moment he found out you were taken.

Wei’s face fell when Bolin told him what had happened to you, his girlfriend, HIS Y/n. “What?” He snapped, his voice and expression going dark with murderous like intent. “Wei calm down-” Wing started, “Don’t FUCKING tell me what to do.” Wei snapped at his brother and whipped back around to Bolin. “So you’re telling me, you had her, you had them knocked out, and YET you didn’t fucking grab her? You had her in your sights and you didn’t do shit? Ha...haha.” He started to laugh a ran a shaky hand through his hair as tears started to flow down. “She’s gone...and it’s all of YOUR fault.” Wei made the ground beneath him bend into a crater as his emotions got stronger at the loss. He shoved Bolin back and stormed off, leaving a trail of tears behind. 

Wei Beifong was shattered at the loss of his first love. He never gave up hope on finding her, he made SURE everyone was looking for you. No stone was left unturned when searching for you. He was so hurt by this, he swore that the Red Lotus would be fucking obliterated for laying a finger on his Y/n.

Your vision blurred when seeing a familiar tanned skinned girl in blue, but your ears worked. “Strap the Avatar to the platinum chains, and let that earthbender down, she’s too weak to even hold her head up. Bring her to where the Avatar will be held.” The familiar voice spoke, Zaheer. Fuck sake, you were gonna die. You let out a bitter chuckle as you were dragged out of the cell by Ming-Hua and her waterbending. “You’re going to try and kill the Avatar yeah? Good luck, she’s a tough nut to crack. I doubt you’ll be able to do it.” 

Taunting earned you a firm slap to the face which made your vision get spotty and blurry for a second while your head spun. “Do you really want your last word to be bitter and taunting?” Ming asked with snark in her tone. “How’d you know? Really, I’ve been begging for the past three weeks now, thank you for finally taking that request.” You said faintly and breathlessly as you felt yourself loose consciousness. “Fuh...Fuck you...you…” You whisper as you tried to fight the sleep. ‘Damn, I really failed again huh? This shit sucks.’

Your ears rang as your eyes fluttered open, you heard movement, the earth under you was moving, you felt every vibration, you heard whooshes of fire, and a voice. Bolin? Mako? “...Y/n?! Y/n!” The familiar voice of Bolin called out to you. You coughed and looked around, moving your head. “Bo...lin?” You were weak, your voice showed that. “We have to go.” Mako said as he ran over to you, the entire cave seemed to shake. “If I’m going down, SO ARE YOU!” Ghazan yelled as boulders crashed down. The firebender scooped you up in his arms as he ran, Bolin following close behind. “Don’t drop her!” “I am not going to drop her! She weighs like nothing Bolin!” You laughed softly at their sibling bickering. 

“Tha...Thank you...Mako.” You whisper weakly, cupping his cheek. “Y/n save your energy.” Mako said, all big brother like because that’s our beloved mako. You squinted when you got outside. “Y/N?!” Wei’s voice snapped you toward the boy. He rushed over and took you from Mako’s arms. “What...what did they do to you?”

Your legs were covered in burns, gashes, bruises, your collarbone had semi-deep cuts, bruises around your neck, black eye, busted lip, bleeding nose. There wasn’t one place that wasn’t injured. Your hands seemed to be the worst. Your fingertips seemed like they were shaved down, your nails ripped out, and your knuckles bloody and bruised. 

“That doesn’t matter…” You whisper, tears running down your cheeks. “You came for me?” Your voice was soft, almost in disbelief. “Y/n, I never stopped looking.” Wei whispered back and took your hand, kissing your bloody knuckles. “Your safe now.” He said calmly as he noticed you shaking and trembling. Six weeks, that’s how long you were there. Finally, you were safe.

✨Epilogue✨

After a year of healing, you were finally able to do everything you did before you were kidnapped. When you were found, you had brain trauma from the constant suffocating and you had some nerve damage. You recovered, not fully but enough to be able to nothing for yourself, you regained your comfortability to bend again! Wei was with you every step of the way. He did his best to help you and honestly? That was enough for you. You had grown closer with his family as well, them being your family too now. I mean, you were obviously going to marry Wei so everyone accepted it. 

You fought along side them when Kuvira was being like, a major bitch, and Toph had taken a liking to you! After everything happened, a few years later once Wei and you turned 20 you finally had a wedding. Everyone was so happy, Bolin was your maid of honor because he apparently called dibs. You looked simply beautiful and Wei started crying because after everything, he’s just happy to have you, safe and sound.

[rein4r1]

Portrait

Wc: 1.9k

Warning/s: Homophobia, Signs of Mental Illness, Mentions of Mental and Physical Abuse, Mentions of sexual activity, Dark Content

Pairing: [Modern AU] Mikasa x F!Reader (They/Them)

Genre: Fluff if you squint, Angst

Synopsis: On which Mikasa offers them a solution to their problems

or

They couldn't help but create a different reality

MINORS READ WITH DISCRETION

“So tell us Y/n L/n”

“Tell you what? I have nothing to tell you!”

“Tell us why you killed your parents.”

They pulled her knees to their chests, tightening their hold. The air from the AC doing nothing but worsen the already dreadful atmosphere. With shaking hands, they touched the side of their face, feeling the sting from where their father slapped them from hours ago. It wasn’t his aggressiveness that hurt them nor was it the shattered frame of a portrait that stood proudly on top of the island table, but it was their mother’s words; “I can’t believe we have a homosexual under our roof!”

Their parents were always conservative, believing that people who like the same sex are nothing but sinful. In all honesty, they believed every word they fed growing up. At least until they met her. Maybe deep down, they were already different from what their parents fear, just hiding in the closet. The first time they saw her was in the middle of the hallway, junior year in high school. To be honest, they didn’t have friends, them having friends is far-fetched anyway.

Not only did they hate their situation at home, but they also hate their situation at school. It’s not like they’re physically troubled by other kids, but they can always hear their murmurings, clearly them being the subject of their gossip.

“For someone with a pretty appearance, they sure are crazy.”

“Shut up! They might hear.”

School was already hell for them; just in the middle of the hallway stood a girl with short black hair, there she stood in the sea of despondence. They always had a downcast look, when was the last time they stared at anything but their feet. They can’t help but be drawn to her dark orbs, something about her enigmatic look draws them to her. The felt their body move automatically towards her, but in the heap of the crowd, she was gone. Their eyes searched any nook and cranny for her, hoping that there’s something she left by. And they felt it, the erratic beating of their hearts, as if nothing will help to calm it.

The next time they saw her was at the school’s courtyard, sitting at one of the benches looking like she’s lost in her own thoughts. They slowly approached her, sitting just at the other end of the bench. As if sensing their presence, her head turns towards them. Her face shows aloofness, but their eyes bore in theirs with curiosity. She turned her head back to the horizon, clearly not minding their presence.

“You look sad.” ‘What?’

“You look like… you’ve been failed by the people around you…” she continues as they look at her with sadness in their eyes.

“Wha- What are you talking about?...” And out of the blue, she pulled them towards her, letting their head rest on her shoulder. She brought her hand to caress their hair, and all they could do is cry. It’s been so long since they became vulnerable, looking no different than a walking corpse. “Don’t worry Y/n, I’m here now.” ‘Huh but how does she know my name?’

“Wait how did you-“

“I’ve always been watching you Y/n, I’m sorry it took me a long time.” They look at her face and saw genuine repentance. “But I haven’t- I don’t know who you are.” As if sensing their growing confusion, she smiled; “Mikasa, my name’s Mikasa.”

Mikasa is their first friend and the first person they talked outside of their family. They didn’t feel alone anymore with the girl beside them. The once suffocating halls didn’t feel smothering anymore. Their eyes didn’t look downcast, it slowly began to look less dull and look more with vigor. But that didn’t do anything to lessen the outlandish look their schoolmates gave them, their mumblings only continue to worsen. It didn’t matter anymore, since Mikasa is by their side, and she didn’t feel alone anymore.

Mikasa slept over at their house, this was something they’ve been looking forward the whole weekends. Lying together in their bed as they faced each other, Mikasa brought her nimble finger to draw in their features as she reached stay strand of their hair and placed it behind their eye. As if there was an unknown force that compels them to each other, they felt her lips brush against theirs in a gently manner. Feeling the way their lips moved in sync with each other, Mikasa’s kisses were steady, gentle, and slow

She looks at them as if she revers them with her whole entirety. They felt her hands drag across their skin like an adagio. Mikasa looked at their eyes for any signs of discomfort, but they only brought themselves closer as an answer. And that night, they made love under the light emanating from the moon.

A few days later, Y/n sat at the dining area with their parents for dinner. Their mother was babbling about how charming their neighbor’s son is. It fell into deaf ears of course, only having Mikasa in their thoughts.

“Y/n you should meet Mr. Grice’s son, I heard he’s about your age.” They snapped their head towards their father, they could not believe the words that came out of his mouth. Never in her life did he appreciate them having any malefriends. “You ought to have friends at your age, create a network with people.”

“I already have a friend ‘pa” he could only dismiss their reply. Their mother clearly being insistent on bringing the Grice boy and them together. “I know both of you are taking your exams for university, it doesn’t hurt having room for more people in your life.”

“I thought you never wanted me to have any guy friends.”

“But it’s the Grices we’re talking about.” They came to understand their mother’s intentions. The Grice family were considered wealthy and influential, who doesn’t want to marry into a rich family anyway? Obviously, Y/n L/n who only has Mikasa in their heart. Plus, the Grice boy already had an army of girls (and boys) willing to be his significant other. It was supposed to be a normal dinner, with them minding their business, leaving their parents to whatever chit chat they’re engrossed in. That is until, their father said something that triggered more on her already displeased mood.

“God, those sinners, parading around for some rights when they clearly don’t deserve any.” Her father muttered in disgust. The television was on, displaying news about a protest done by the LGBTQ+ community in accordance with the rights of their transgender brothers and sisters, considering that there is a rise of crimes towards the group. “If only they weren’t that then people wouldn’t-“

“I’m gay.” Their parents snapped their heads towards her, their expressions full of vexation.

“Y/n come again? What did you-“

“I’m fucking gay ‘ma, and I appreciate that the both of you stop asking those people for liability for something they clearly didn’t do, especially that they- we, are discriminated by people like –“ SLAP

They looked at their horrific faces, hand on their cheek. They expected this, they knew they were like this, but they couldn’t stand them any longer. They couldn’t help but think of Mikasa, the fact that they have this kind of mindset already means that after learning Mikasa’s existence, they’ll get in between them.

“I can’t believe we have a homosexual under our roof!” Their mother cried and their father’s face full of furry. “Go inside your room! We’ll deal with you later. FuckI can’t look at you right now without having the urge to murder you! And I don’t want to commit a sin like you!” Their father’s voice echoes around the room, as they quickly left her unfinished dinner, seeking solace inside their room. Sitting at the innermost corner of their bed, they leaned against the wall and brought their knees towards their chest. They expected them to be like this, but deep down they were hoping that they’d understand, that they’d accept them for who they are.

They felt their phone ring as they moved towards the bedside table and saw a text from Mikasa.

They immediately dashed towards their mini balcony, and there she is, Mikasa in all her glory. Seeing her made them break down, they found solace with this woman. To them, Mikasa is their sanctuary. Mikasa held them tight under the dark sky and the cold wind of the early hours of morning. She listened to them as they bawl their eyes out, pressing kisses on their face in hopes that this will make them feel better.

“I have something for you.” Mikasa reached something in her pocket to reveal a necklace with a vial as its pendant. They looked at the necklace with an astonished look, Mikasa then proceeds to wear the necklace on their neck. “You know you can do this Y/n” Mikasa smiled at them as she pressed another kiss on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around them. “I know you can”

Their parents woke up at the delightful smell of breakfast. They were bemused at the food that is already prepared on the table.

“Oh, both of you are awake, I prepared breakfast.” Their father looked at them suspiciously, but she only smiled cheerfully.

“What is this? Didn’t we tell you to-“

“I would like to apologize for yesterday, I was clearly stressed because of my exams. I was probably just confused… Yeah just stressed” they chuckled, they felt a bit unsure of their words, but they only brushed it off, content that their child finally came into their senses. They took a sip of their tea, as they began to converse with their parents. “You know about Grice, maybe I’ll approach him later at school.”

“Really? That’s great Y/n!” Her mother chimes.

“Yes ‘ma” They continue to look at their parents. Minutes pass as something went eerie that they could not explain. ‘Something’s weird’ their father glanced at their grinning face. They suddenly lack the ability to speak. As they slowly grow limp from their chairs. They could only stare at their child’s retreating form as the light in their gets swallowed by darkness.

“Tell us why you killed your parents.” Are they out of their mind? Kill? Why would Y/n kill their parents? They may have hurt them too many times, but they could never hurt their parents.

“Kill? I did not kill them!”

“The autopsy showed signs of poisoning, and the investigating team found its connection with the tea they drank. In addition, you were the last person they were last seen with.” They were confused, the tea?... The tea!

“It wasn’t me… It was… It was Mikasa!” Their eyes widen in confusion. “She gave me a vial. It was her!” They wrote their claim down on a piece of paper.

“Mikasa?... I need her last name.” He probes. ‘Wait, she never did give me her last name.’ The officer slid a small envelope. The opened it to reveal a portrait that looks oh so familiar. It’s one of the portraits her father flounced in the heat of anger. A portrait of a young woman with a baby in her hands. ‘No this can’t be… this is just a coincidence. This woman-‘

“-is Mikasa Ackerman, the one who gave birth to your mother.”

That night, they never received a text from her. It was only their alarm setting off.

An: I feel like this is badly written so bsoibhaoibh

I apologize for any grammatical errors and improper use of punctuation marks.

[natthebattygeologist]

A Brush with a Cursed Lily

Royal Court AU

King’s Advisor!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

A/N: So here it is, a second part to A Kiss From a Rose. I’m sorry for the wait however I got very busy with work and my university projects. I do so hope you enjoy this. It’s written slightly differently to part 1 as this is all from the Reader’s POV.

I just want to thank @cockslut-padalecki for allowing me to write part 1 as part of the #notmyninth writing challenge and I hope that this angsty follow up does A Kiss From a Rose proud.

Word Count: 2208

Warnings: Angst, angst, more angst, some light fluff, swearing, implied smut, grief, mentions of loss.

Reader’s POV

I ran around chasing after the little squirt who was currently avoiding his bath-time before tripping up and landing square on my backside in a patch of tall Calla Lilies. They were a stunning shade of deep violet and brought back the memories of 6 summers ago. The day I was married off to my best-friend, Steve Rogers, Lord of Rosebury-upon-Sale. I chuckled to myself as my husband rounded the corner of the orangery with our son, covered in mud head to toe, a huge smile plastered on his face. The last few years had been trying at times, and unbearable in others but somehow, we managed to make it through.

“Frolicking in the flowers are we, my petal?” A deep laugh resonated from Steve’s chest as he took in the sight of me, dishevelled and dirtied from my tumble.

“Yes, it’s a rather delightful hobby I have found. Quite the thrilling end to chasing our little gremlin child. Now if you would be so inclined as to help your pregnant wife out of the flower bed, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Come now love, you know I love to see you in a fluster, but I suppose it would do the baby no good leaving you there.”

I took the hand he so graciously offered me and took our muddied little boy from his father’s hold.

“Now honestly Charlie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Prince as muddy and dirty as you are right now, you little rascal. Let’s get you cleaned up and fed, then maybe we can go and visit Uncle James before bedtime.”

----------------- 4 Years Earlier----------------

The King summoned us back to court, and what was meant to be a joyous visit quickly became a permanent stay. Upon our arrival we were greeted by a bleary-eyed Prince and an equally as troubled Princess. The King was dying and had called upon his advisor to help prepare for Bucky’s transition into power. To anyone else nothing would’ve seemed amiss, except it was.

When James’ back was turned, I had witnessed Princess Maia acting rather strangely, gathering bouquets of foxglove and trimmings of deadly nightshade. I was almost certain of her intentions but feared my own safety and so kept it to myself, until one night where I couldn’t bear the burden this knowledge held over me any longer.

“Steve, my love, I have something troubling my mind.” My voice came out a hushed and broken whisper.

“What worries you so my petal? I know it hasn’t been easy for you being back, and having to pretend to like Maia, I assure you that I am always here to listen to you and love you.”

“Well, you see, I think I know why the King is sick. On several occasions I have witnessed the Princess with my own eyes gathering bouquets of foxglove and cuttings from the nightshade bush down by the lily patch. I worry that she is poisoning the King, taking advantage of both his and James’ compromised states to hold a sway over decisions that will likely see our kingdom lost to that of her own father.”

I spoke confidently now, having been an integral part of the court for all my childhood. Steve knew better than to question my knowledge of how things ran. He also knew that I would be one of the first to notice if anything was awry, be that with the account books or even the numbers of armed men stationed at each watchtower. After the death of his wife the King only had James as an heir, and so, he vowed that in case any ill befall him I would also be trained, so that if required, I could become a successful Queen someday.

“Steve, I do believe wholeheartedly that this is all a set-up and that we have been blindly infiltrated by our enemy. Things aren’t adding up. The number of guards stationed at The Keep has been halved in sized since the King has fallen ill. It leaves the West of the kingdom in a precarious position. One where an attack could easily happen and be kept quiet. I don’t like the look of it, any of it, and something needs to be done before we are conquered, you are killed, and me resigned to a life of slavery and servitude at the hands of the despicable Wyvern family.” My voice broke and a sob tore through me at the thought of losing everything I have left to the family that has already taken so much from me, starting with my mother shortly after I was born.

“Hush my petal. Tears will do nothing to fix this. The King is aware of the situation, however in our absence the Prince has changed, and he has become blinded by his love for ‘his lily’, though I daresay snake would be the better term for that venomous bitch.” A scoff escaped Steve’s lips before he continued. “The reason the King summoned us is because he has seen what fate has befallen James. He has made his bed, albeit a rather uncomfortable bed, and now he will have to lie in it. The King wishes for you to become Queen after his passing. He wants to stop the plans of Maia’s family before their tendrils of poison can run further into our kingdom than they already have. You my love can bring all this to an end, and I believe you would be able to unite the Kingdoms in a peaceful treaty that could last.”

I curled up into Steve’s side placing a chaste kiss to his lips. He returned it with a hunger and passion before carding his fingers through my hair and tracing them along my jaw.

“Please my petal, let me chase away your worries, after all, if you are to be Queen, we shall need to work on producing some heirs.”

A smirk befell his lips before he ducked his head, nipping at my neck, knowing full well that I would cave to his carnal desires.

--------------- Present Day -------------

After having cleaned up the mucky Prince, Steve and I walked with him through the gardens as evening began to draw in. Fireflies filled the air as we made the trek to the rose garden. As a child it had been mine and Bucky’s favourite place to hide, and on more than one occasion hugs and kisses had been exchanged.

Today this garden holds a whole new meaning as at its centre, beneath a beautiful weeping willow, lay James’ grave.

------------- 3 Years Earlier ------------

Before the King’s passing, he ordered his kings-guard to imprison and execute the Princess for treason against the throne. She was hung at The Keep as a warning to her family that they were next. Their years of planning and scheming had come to an abrupt and distasteful end.

What the Wyverns deemed as an unlawful murder incited a full war between our Kingdoms, it saw both Steve and Bucky fighting on the front lines with me at the helm, as Queen. Soon I had treaties signed with other Kingdoms aligning us for generations to come, until the only one stood against the alliance was the Kingdom of the Serpents. The battle of Roseknappe in the Western borders was the bloodiest battle of all. By this time, I was no longer part of frontline action as I was holed up in the castle under the watchful protection of my elite Queens-guard. When news got out that I was with child the Wyverns stopped at nothing to try and kill me or at the least cause me harm enough for my body to rid itself of the heir I now lovingly grew inside of me. But they needn’t have worried.

When I was around 5 months along tragedy struck our kingdom. The arrival of my husband looking grey in pallor, with sunken eyes and covered in injuries was the first sign that something was very wrong. When the two had left to fight they rode off, side by side, settling any grievances they had over the arranged marriages and uniting to fight to save the Kingdom and keep me on the throne. Steve’s return signalled the end of an era and feelings in my gut that had been dormant for years surfaced in cry of grief so great that it silenced the birdsong for days. Although James was not King, he was still a beloved Prince. My first love and the person who would forever hold a piece of my heart.

In my grief-stricken state I had fallen and managed to land with the sharp riser of the marble stairs squarely in my abdomen. The shock I was in meant that I hadn’t noticed the blood that began pooling nor do I remember what happened over the next few weeks as the doctors and healers frantically worked to keep me alive.

“Steve? Steve? Where’s James? I…. I want to see him. I…” I was interrupted by Steve coming over and pulling me tight to his chest.

“Praise to the Old Gods, my petal, are you okay? Are you in any pain?” worry had seeped into his tone and what looked to be a pang of guilt crossed his normally stoic face. “My love, how much do you remember of the last three weeks?”

A confused expression befell my features before Steve decided to continue.

“Oh, my sweet love, James... James isn’t coming back. The fight at Roseknappe, he saved my life by taking the arrow that was meant to pierce my heart, he sacrificed himself because he wanted me to be able to return to you, so I could love you the way he was never allowed to. So that I could raise a family and keep our Kingdom strong. He died in my arms after begging me to pass you on this letter that he wrote, almost as if he knew he wouldn’t make it back from this war.”

Fresh tears began to fall as Steve handed me the bloodied paper.

My dearest Rose,

How I wish things had been different, and that it was I that got to hold you in my arms at the end of the aisle. I begged my father to change his mind, but he wouldn’t budge. I will never forgive myself for the horrid things I said to you when father made you queen. I was poisoned by the words of a traitor and knowing now I hurt the one true love of my life is the reason why I will fight so hard to save you.

If you are reading this it means I am gone my sweet girl. I know that you will grieve me but please, for my sake as much as your own, I want you to love Steve as wholly as you once loved me. I beg of you to take care of yourself and to keep me close as you grow through the years. I am sorry I will not be there to see my little nieces and nephews, but I know that you and Steve will be the most wonderful parents.

That day in the rose garden, after your first dance in front of the court, when I kissed you. I wanted to tell you then just how much I loved you, but I couldn’t do it. It’s almost as if in my heart I knew you would never truly be mine.

I love you my Rose and I will see you in the next life,

Your Prince,

Bucky

xx

4 months later after grieving the loss of the Prince, the Kingdom was celebrating, not just a victory of war and a long lasting treaty of peace, but the birth of their future King.

Prince Charlie James Buchanan Rogers, heir to the throne of Rosehall and Duke of Snowblossom Grove.

----------- Present Day ----------

“…… and that is the story of how your brave Uncle James battled the terrifying Wyverns to protect your mummy.”

I could hear Steve talking with Charlie as I sat on the bench staring blankly at the grave, wishing with every ounce of strength that I could, hoping to gain just one more moment with my soulmate.

“Come Charlie, let’s get you into bed, then tomorrow we can go riding and Papa can show you the waterfall where him and Uncle James decided to scare me into thinking that your Papa had drowned. Really, they just wanted mummy to go swimming with them, but they knew I wouldn’t go unless there was an emergency.”

After settling Charlie into bed, I took a stroll around the halls before heading to my shared chambers. Laying on the bed next to Steve he protectively wrapped his arms around me, as if he could shield me from the pain the world would throw at me.

“I love you Steven Grant Rogers. It may have taken me a while but, I have always cared for you, and I vow to you now that I will love you until my dying breath.”

“I know my petal, as I will love you, and Charlie, and this little one that we have yet to meet, until mine.”

Taglist: (My Humble Peeps)

@missyredbean

[miserablesme]

The Les Miserables Changelog Part 6: 1987-1997 West End variations

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. This time, we're going through the production-specific differences between the official 1987-1997 libretto and the West End productions of the era.

Compared to American productions, the West End production was NOT afraid to improvise a little relative to what the books said. It was simultaneously willing to hold on to things the official libretto abandoned, and to add in details not done elsewhere. (Incidentally this reportedly was true with the staging as well as the lyrics, though this blog is focused on the latter.)

It’s worth noting that the show went through many iterations throughout the decade. For the sake of coherence I’m separating this post into each variant.

Oh, and because this entails many different versions of the musical, and most of these lyrical changes can be seen and discussed in other posts of my blog, this post will be significantly less thorough than most of mine regarding my thoughts on the changes. With all that cleared up, let us begin!

Circa 1987-1988 variant

During “On Parole”, the official lyrics of the innkeepers have since 1987 been:

My rooms are full

And I’ve no supper to spare

I’d like to help a stranger

All we want is to be fair

The West End production maintained the original version instead:

My rooms are full

And I’ve no supper to spare

I’d like to help you really

All I want is to be fair

"At the End of the Day" reverses a line. Officially Valjean usually sings:

What is this fighting all about?

Will someone tear these two apart?

Instead, the West End show has him ask:

Will someone tear these two apart?

What is this fighting all about?

The 1987 libretto had these (solo) lyrics to “The Runaway Cart”:

Don’t go near him, Monsieur Mayor

The load is as heavy as hell

The old man is a goner for sure

It will kill you as well

The West End version used the original ensemble sequence instead:

(INDIVIDUAL)

Don’t go near him, Monsieur Mayor

There’s nothing at all you can do

(ENSEMBLE)

The old man is a goner for sure

Leave him alone

“Who Am I?” still used the original “This innocent who bears my face” instead of “who wears my face”. It also still featured Valjean’s “You know where to find me!” declaration officially written out of the libretto.

Prior to "Master of the House", a customer still declares "Hell, what a wine" instead of the revised "God, what a wine".

In the “Waltz of Treachery”, Thenardier still asks “Have we done for your child what is best?” instead of the official post-Broadway line which changes “your child” to “her child”. Additionally, Valjean still sings "a friendlier sky" instead of "some friendlier sky".

Then, at the end of the number, at least some performances use a slightly different line from the norm. Usually Little Cosette asks:

Will there be children

And castles to see?

However, this era of the West End production used a version later borrowed by the Official Symphonic Soundtrack as well as the 1992 UK tour:

Will there be castles

And children to see?

I can’t help but wonder what this edit was supposed to accomplish. Is it supposed to show that Cosette is optimistic and innocent enough to prioritize castles over making friends?

The opening of "Look Down" interestingly used a middle ground between Gavroche's original and rewritten lines. Originally he declares:

This is my school, my high society

From St. Denis to St Michel

We live on crumbs of humble piety

Tough on the teeth, but what the hell?

If you're poor, if you're free

Follow me, follow me!

Officially in the 1987 libretto, he instead proclaims:

This is my school, my high society

Here in the slums of St Michel

We live on crumbs of humble piety

Tough on the teeth, but what the hell?

Think you're poor? Think you're free?

Follow me, follow me!

However, the West End production at the time has him sing:

This is my school, my high society

Here in the slums of St Michel

We live on crumbs of humble piety

Tough on the teeth, but what the hell?

If you're poor, if you're free

Follow me, follow me!

The revised opener combined with the original closing part! A fascinating combination in my book.

As in the original version, the Beggar Woman cries "You give 'em all the pox" instead of just "Give 'em all the pox".

The 1987 libretto featured the following exchange as an ensemble piece:

When's it gonna end?

When're we gonna live?

Something's gotta happen now or

Something's gotta give

However, the West End production used the original solo lines:

When's it gonna end?

When're we gonna live?

Something's gotta happen, dearie

Something's gotta give

Fortunately, the generic students' lines have been replaced with Marius and Enjolras as usual. However, the beggars' lines in between their dialogue is in its original form. Instead of the revised lines:

(BEGGARS)

See our children fed

Help us in our shame

Something for a crust of bread in Holy Jesus' name

(SOLO BEGGAR)

In the Lord's holy name

(BEGGARS)

In His name, in His name, in His name

The original ones are used:

(BEGGARS)

Something for a meal

Something for a doss

Something in the name of Him who died upon the cross

On the cross, come across

On the cross, come across, come across

"The Robbery" has mostly been adapted into its revised Broadway form, with one small difference. Instead of the following revised part of Thenardier's dialogue:

Save a life, spare a sou

God rewards all the good that you do

He instead sings the following:

Save a life, spare a sou

God will see all the good that you do

This is presumably a relic of the number's pre-Broadway form, in which Thenardier's plea includes the line:

How d'you do? Spare a sou

God will see all the good that you do

I kind of like this unique variant actually. It strikes me as a little more authentic regarding what an actual religious person would say. My experience is that the omniscience of God seems to be a higher priority in most devout Christians' minds than the ways he will reward them. Of course, Thenardier is just putting on an act and he himself prioritizes nothing before reward, so perhaps the standard lines make more sense.

For some inexplicable reason, Javert's "Why on earth did he run?" later in "The Robbery" is instead sung as "Why the hell did he run?" This feels extremely out-of-character; Javert is usually not one to use Biblical terms casually.

"Stars" mostly takes on its usual post-Broadway form, with one difference. Instead of singing:

He knows his way in the dark

But mine is the way of the Lord

And those who follow the path of the righteous shall have their reward

He removes the final conjunction, making the lyric:

He knows his way in the dark

But mine is the way of the Lord

Those who follow the path of the righteous shall have their reward

Ironically, I find the original "but" a little awkward while thinking the "and" is better when present! Not a huge deal though.

Enjolras' name continues not to be stated during the instrumentals before "Red and Black".

During "Red and Black", Grantaire still sings "We talk of battles to be won" instead of the slightly revised "You talk of battles to be won".

"The Attack on Rue Plumet" uses the slightly different original "to watch a cat and his father" line instead of the official "to see a cat and his father".

Then, at the climax of the number, instead of the revised sequence of lines:

You wait my girl, you'll rue this night

I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!

Leave her to me, don't wait around

Make for the sewers, go underground

The original sequence was used:

Make for the sewers, don't wait around

Leave her to me, go underground

You wait my girl, you'll rue this night

I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!

During "One Day More", Javert sings the original "One day more to revolution" instead of "One more day to revolution" as is standard.

In the opener to Act Two, Grantaire sings the pre-Broadway "Some will bark, some will bite" from the pre-Broadway show instead of the revised "Dogs will bark, fleas will bite".

After "Little People", Grantaire similarly keeps his original "Better far to die a schoolboy than a p'liceman and a spy instead of the post-Broadway "What's the difference? Die a schoolboy, die a p'liceman, die a spy".

The Second Attack retains a lot of pre-Broadway lines. Instead of this post-Broadway opening:

(ENJOLRAS)

How do we stand? Feuilly make your report

(FEUILLY)

We've guns enough but ammunition short

(MARIUS)

I will go into the street

There are bodies all around

Ammunition to be had

Lots of bullets to be found

The original one is used:

(ENJOLRAS)

How do we stand? Feuilly make your report

(FEUILLY)

We've guns enough but bullets running short

(MARIUS)

Let me go into the street

There are bodies all around

Ammunition to be had

Lots of bullets to be found

Then, instead of this post-Broadway sequence:

(ENJOLRAS)

I can't let you go, it's too much of a chance

(MARIUS)

And the same is true for any man here

(VALJEAN)

Let me go, he's no more than a boy

I am old, I have nothing to fear

The pre-Broadway one is used:

(ENJOLRAS)

I can't let you go, it's too much of a chance

(MARIUS)

And the same can be said for any man here

(VALJEAN)

Let me go in his place, he's no more than a boy

I am old and alone and have nothing to fear

The remainder of the scene is performed in its usual post-Broadway form.

The "Final Battle" number uses the more hectic original pace as opposed to the less wordy post-Broadway lyrics. Instead of these current lyrics:

(ENJOLRAS)

Let us die facing our foes

Make them bleed while they can

(COMBEFERRE)

Make them pay through the nose

(COURFEYRAC)

Make them pay for every man

A slight variation on the original lyrics is used:

(ENJOLRAS)

Come on my friends, though we stand here alone

Let us go to our deaths with our face to the foes

(COMBEFERRE)

Let 'em pay for each death with a death of their own

(COURFEYRAC)

If they get me, by God, they will pay through the nose

Notice how the line now uses "the foes" instead of the original "our foes". Everything else is consistent with the original sequence, though.

"Dog Eats Dog" is mostly the same as its post-Broadway revision. However, Thenardier still sings "Here's a little toy" instead of the revised "Here's another toy".

Additionally, after the number Thenardier still doesn't shout Valjean's name.

From this point onwards, the musical takes its standard post-Broadway form.

Circa 1988-1989 variant

This version is almost identical to the last, with a couple exceptions. During "Who Am I?" Valjean now sings the official "wears my face" line as opposed to the original "bears my face" lyric.

The post-"Waltz of Treachery" scene is now performed in its standard "children and castles" format instead of the "castles and children" variant.

"Stars" now borrows a line from its Australian version. Instead of "And so it has been, and so it is written", Javert now sings "And so it must be, for so it is written". Interestingly, though, the rest of the number is the same as it was in the 1987-1988 version of the West End show.

In "One Day More", Javert finally sings the post-Broadway "One more day to revolution" instead of "One day more to revolution".

Thenardier now shouts Valjean's name following "Dog Eats Dog", as was already the case in other productions.

Circa 1989-1991 variant

This version of the show is mostly a mix of the 1987-1989 variants as well as the official post-Broadway libretto, with a few unique variations added in. The innkeeper scene retains its pre-Broadway form, and "At the End of the Day" retains its swapped-lines variants.

"The Runaway Cart" now uses its standard post-Broadway lyrics. However, the lines "The load is as heavy as hell" and "It will kill you as well" are performed as ensemble pieces instead of the scripted solo lines.

"Who Am I?" retains Valjean's "You know where to find me" line... usually. I also have one 1989 recording where Peter Karrie uses the Australian "You will find me at the hospital St. John" line... yet Karrie himself can also be heard stating the usual line in other performances. Very odd...

The "Hell, what a line" original lyric is still sing during the preamble to "Master of the House".

Thenardier still sings "your child" instead of "her child" during the "Waltz of Treachery".

Gavroche's opening to "Look Down", the Beggar Woman's "Give 'em all the pox", and the beggars' "See our children fed" lyrics have all finally been adapted into their official post-Broadway selves. However, the "When's it gonna end" sequence retains its pre-Broadway form.

"The Robbery" maintains the unique "God will see all the good that you do" variation. However, Javert's "Why the hell did he run?" has fortunately been reverted to "Why on earth did he run?"

"Stars" has now fully adapted into its Australian format. Instead of the original "Fallen from grace, fallen from grace" Javert now sings "Fallen from God, fallen from grace". The "but" has also been removed from "Mine is the way of the Lord".

"Red and Black" now uses the official "you talk of battles" line. However, Enjolras' name still isn't declared during its opening instrumentals.

"The Attack on Rue Plumet" retains all of its pre-Broadway variations.

In "One Day More", Javert now sings "I will join these little schoolboys" instead of "We'll be ready for these schoolboys".

The opening barricade scene in Act Two has now switched to the official post-Broadway "Dogs will bark, fleas will bite" lyrics.

Grantaire's post-"Little People" line now takes its post-Broadway "What's the difference?" format.

The "Second Attack", the "Final Battle", and "Dog Eats Dog" are all performed identically to the 1987-1989 West End versions.

Circa 1991-1992 variant

This is very close to the 1989-1991 version, with a few differences. The "Waltz of Treachery" finally has Thenardier say "her child" instead of "your child".

The "Final Battle" now uses the official post-Broadway lyrics.

"Dog Eats Dog" finally uses the official "Here's another toy" line instead of "Here's a little toy".

Moreover, the Epilogue now uses the Australian "I'll lead you to salvation" lines instead of the original (and still official at that point) "And lead me to salvation".

Circa 1992-1993 variant

This variant is similarly very close to the 1991-1992 one, with the following exceptions. "At the End of the Day" finally uses its official lyrics.

Valjean no longer declares "You know where to find me!" after "Who Am I?"

Then, "A Little Fall of Rain" takes a cue from the 1992 UK tour. It now opens with the same annoying interlude as opposed to the usual opening music.

Later, in another acknowledgement of the UK tour, after "Night of Anguish" instrumentals of "A Little Fall of Rain" as opposed to "Drink with Me" play.

Gavroche's death scene now uses the "ammunition short" and "I will go into the street" lines instead of the original ones. However, the rest of the number is still in its pre-Broadway state.

Circa 1993-1994 variant

This version borrows elements from the 1992 UK tour while still keeping a lot of features of previous West End versions.

The innkeeper scene still takes its pre-Broadway form.

"Fantine's Arrest" has put in Fantine's slightly awkward "I won't have you" line from the UK tour in place of her usual "No, not at all". Some performances also switch Bamatabois' original lyrics:

You've got some nerve, you little whore

You've got some gall!

It's the same with a tart as it is with a grocer

The customer sees what he gets in advance

It's not for the whore to say "yes sir" or "no sir"

It's not for the harlot to pick or to choose

Or to lead me a dance

Into his UK tour lines:

You've got some sauce, you ugly slut

You've got some gall!

What's become of the world when a whore from the gutter

Can suddenly get such ideas in her head?

Your job is to lie on your back for your betters

This hideous harlot believes she can choose

Who she takes to her bed

However, this didn't seem to be the standard at this point. Many performances still used the original lyrics.

"The Runaway Cart" has been entirely redone so that it takes its UK tour format. Instead of these original opening remarks:

Look at that

Look at that

It's Monsieur Fauchelevent

Don't approach

Don't go near

At the risk of your life

He is caught by the wheel

Oh the pitiful man

Stay away

Turn away

There is nothing to do

There is nothing to do

The UK tour ones are used:

Look at that

Stay away

You'll be crushed by the cart

Don't approach

Don't go near

It'll fall on you too

Oh my god, who is that?

It's Monsieur Fauchelevent

He is caught by the wheel

Oh the pitiful man

There is nothing to do

As in the past in the West End, the solo lines in the "Don't go near him..." sequence become ensemble ones.

Finally, Fauchelevent's original "You come from God, you are a saint" takes its UK tour "You saved my life, you come from God" form.

"Look Down" still uses the pre-Broadway "When's it gonna end..." sequence.

In "The Robbery", Thenardier also still claims "God will see..." instead of "God rewards...".

As with past variations in the West End, "Stars" takes its Australian/UK tour form.

Interestingly, despite all the UK tour adaptations which were being added to the West End show, the opening sting prior to "Red and Black" is not heard (despite the fact that during this era, it was being added to more or less every other replica production worldwide!)

Additionally, Enjolras' name still doesn't appear during the number's opening instrumentals.

However, Enjolras' line:

To rally the people

To call them to arms

To bring them in line

Is replaced with the UK tour version:

To rally the people

To fire their blood

And the bring them in line

Also, the rewritten lyrics to "Lamarque is Dead" do appear.

The pre-Broadway lyrics in "The Attack on Rue Plumet" are still present.

Javert continues to sing "I will join these little schoolboys" in "One Day More".

As was the case in the last edit, "A Little Fall of Rain" and "Night of Anguish" use the musical variants introduced in the UK tour.

Gavroche's death scene is finally in its official post-Broadway form 100% of the way through. After this point in the show, everything is identical to the 1991-1993 show.

Circa 1994-1995 variant

This is almost identical to the 1993-1994 version of the show. The one difference I'm aware of: Thenardier finally sings "God rewards..." instead of "God will see..." in "The Robbery".

Circa 1995-1996 variant

A few differences are present here relative to the 1994-1995 version. First off, "Lovely Ladies" takes a cue from the UK tour. Instead of this group scene:

(SAILORS - simultaneously with prostitutes' lines)

Lovely lady, fastest on the street

Wasn't there three minutes

She was back up on her feet

Lovely lady, what you waiting for

Doesn't take a lot of savvy just to be a whore

Come on lady, what's a lady for?

(PROSTITUTES - simultaneously with sailors' lines)

Lovely ladies, lovely little girls

Lovely ladies, lovely little ladies

Lovely girlies, lovely little girls

We are lovely, lovely girls

Lovely ladies, what's a lady for?

There's this exchange between a prostitute and a pimp:

(PROSTITUTE)

God I'm weary, sick enough to drop

Belly burns like fire

Will the bleeding ever stop?

(PIMP)

Cheer up dearie, show a happy face

Plenty more like you here

If you can't keep up the pace

(PROSTITUTE)

Only joking, dearie knows her place

Note that this is NOT identical to the UK tour version. The prostitute sings "will the bleeding ever stop" instead of "never stop", and the pimp refers to "you here" instead of "you, dear".

"Fantine's Arrest" now has solidified the UK tour lyrics as the default ones; the original lyrics seem to no longer be used in the UK.

In the "Waltz of Treachery", Thenardier no longer just sings "Let's not haggle for darling Cosette". No he refers to "darling Colette", with Mme. Thenardier quickly saying (not singing) her actual name and Thenardier singing it in response. I'm not the biggest fan of this joke myself. It makes Thenardier look like nothing more than a big idiot, when I think there should be a degree of cunning to his character.

The student finally shouts Enjolras' name during the opening instrumentals to "Red and Black" now.

Fortunately, the little opening overture before “A Little Fall of Rain” has once again been removed. Everything else is the same as the last version (and yes, that includes the original pre-Broadway lines that haven't yet been converted to their rewritten forms!)

Circa 1997 variant

This version is almost identical to the last one. However, Javert is back to singing "We'll be ready for these schoolboys" instead of "I will join these little schoolboys" in "One Day More".

An interesting change also occurs during the "Final Battle". Though the lines are the same, Enjolras now sings the final word, "free", instead of shouting it.

And that just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I’d love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

[erinxneil]

You know I own a gun, right?

So, I decided I was going to begin this as a prompt challenge because its been a SUPER long time since I’ve written anything, so I’m going to be using the prompts from @criminalmindswriter here and write a story for each if that makes sense? It’ll make more sense the more of them that I write, this is prompt #1 - “You know I own a gun, right?”

masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

>>>Not neccesarily romantic, this post is primarily focused on friendship!

Summary: Spencer seems to forget the advice that Morgan once offered him years ago about messing with a woman who carries a gun, when a prank war goes too far. 

I sat in the rolling chair in front of my desk, legs propped up on the table, smiling as I listened to Prentiss rant about the douche bag at the bar last night who didn’t know when to take a hint. As Emily continued to complain that it seems as if men no longer had any sense of decency, I reached down to adjust the height of the chair, realizing it no longer held the comfort that I remembered. My eyebrows furrowed as I twisted the knob however it refused to budge. Emily’s voice became white noise in my mind as I smiled kindly while roughly forcing the handle into movement, only for my efforts to be in vain.

“Y/N?” Emily questioned, an eyebrow raised in confusion. She was not angry at me for paying little attention to her story, she was more amused at my predicament and obvious frustration.

As I opened my mouth to explain my situation, I noticed a certain doctor smirking into his cup of coffee as he walked past our desks.

“Hey, genius!” I called out. “Do you have something to do with this?”

Spencer feigned surprise. “What are you referring to?” His face could almost be mistaken for innocence, had it not been for the flare of mischief that lit up in his eyes.

“Look, Reid, all I know is that someone moved my chair about ten inches from its comfortable position, and that you happen to be often chipper for someone who was forced to wake up at five in the morning today.” I narrowed my eyes at him as he blinked innocently.

“Again, wish I could help you.” He sipped his mug and began to walk away slowly, before throwing a glance over his shoulder branding a sly grin. “And if someone did happen to move your adjustment lock approximately 2.4 inches from its original position before jamming it into place, it would likely have to do with your inability to remain in your own seat on the jet, and intruding in their own personal space.” With this statement, Spencer smiled cheekily before strutting into the conference room.

“Oh, is that so?” I called out after him. Well, two can play at this game, Reid.

- * - * - * - * - * -

I grinned mischievously as I stared at the masterpiece in front of me. At first glance, it appeared as if there was not a paper out of place. Reid’s desk was as tidy as ever, to reflect the pristine image that he desired to be viewed as.

However, as we know, the surface is never what it seems.

I quickly marched back to my desk, a slight quirk in the corner of my lips to be the only hint of my devious plot. Morgan appeared to be the only one to notice, as his eyes glanced at me, back to Reid’s desk corner, and dragged slowly back to me with furrowed eyebrows.

Morgan was the only agent present this early- of course, aside from Hotch who was on the phone in his office. “Might I ask what you were doing over at Pretty Boy’s desk over there?” I smiled innocently. “I have no clue what you are talking about.”

Before he could question me further, the man himself entered into the building. He walked over to us slowly, eyes raking the scene and not spotting anything unordinary. “Hey, Reid, make sure you tell your mother happy birthday for me, I remembered you mentioned it the other day.”

Reid paused for a moment, a smile crossing his face. “Thanks, I will.”

I grinned softly. “I’ve always loved birthdays. A sign of life and happiness.”

Spencer continued towards his desk, his smile growing as if he had hoped someone would give him an opportunity to spout his useless knowledge. “Actually, did you know that you are 13.8 percent more likely to die on your birthday than any other normal day?” Reid sat in his seat and reached for his pen. “ This is quite interesting, because-” 

He paused, hand hovering over the pen, confusion crossing his features as he leaned forward slightly.

Spencer looked around somewhat panicked, before his eyes passed mine and realization fell upon his face as he noticed my smirk. Glaring, he watched as I placed the bottle of clear, contact-drying glue onto my desk.

“What’s wrong Spence, cat got your tongue?” I grinned.

- * - * - * - * - * -

What began as a harmless prank war quickly escalated into a dangerous battle of wits as tensions rose between the two agents. 

The pranks evolved from small, mildly irritating occurrences into humiliating and mildly life threatening disasters. Both Spencer and Y/N were extremely competitive and often the best at whatever they did, therefore it would be nearly impossible for one to relent without the other admitting defeat.

The rest of the team refused to get involved. Morgan is aware that I could quite literally destroy him, while Emily fears that Spencer will revert into his robot form and unlock his repressed mind-controlling powers to force her to submit to his will should she dare to intervene. Hotch initially didn’t mind the banter, as it caused the two to become more competitive in terms of cases themselves and in turn solving them quicker. However, as the battle escalates, Hotch fears that the childish games will cause someone to get hurt.

Which he couldn’t be more right.

While the pranks initially began as hiding valuables or increasing the frequency of the volume of his headset every time that Spencer said the word “Actually-”, these elevated into becoming trapped in a closet for hours without food or drink, or trapping car keys above a large tub of hydrofluoric acid. (If it was not obvious, this was a prank straight from the mind of the doctor.) 

Spencer had gotten very fed up after the last prank required him to follow a scavenger hunt throughout the office within ten minutes to find his badge before it would be shredded, only to find that it had been taped under his seat the entire time. Because of this, when I walked into the office the following morning to find his elaborate prank, I was not surprised. 

As I walked through the conference room doors, I immedately froze as I felt the ground shift beneath me. I realized I was standing on a pressure plate when lights began flashing around me, sounding a faint alarm that gradually grew louder, and I spotted Doctor Reid sitting before me with a smirk planted gracefully upon his lips.

“Y/N, what a pleasant surprise!” He grinned. I rolled my eyes. “What kind of prank is thi-” A churning sound above me caused me to slowly glance up, noticing a bucket slowly being lowered further towards me.

“You were saying?” He smiled. The once innocent grin had a devilish flame now as he stared at me, anticipating my next move. “How in the hell did you do this?” I questioned, growing nervous as the bucket drew closer.

“Garcia owed me one after she helped you hack into my computer.” He grinned sheepishly, as if ashamed that he could not do this all by himself. But of course- Garcia, the only one who while remaining impartial, had offered to equally aid on both of our sides. I suppose I had known it was only a matter of time that he had cashed in this favor, however with the amount of detail in this prank, it is clear that the brainpower of Garcia only amplified Spencer’s genius thoughts.

I decided to turn the tabled on him. “Aw, Pretty Boy, you really must think about me often if you came up with such an elaborate plan like this. How long did this take you to set up, several hours?” The slightly pink tinge that was hinted across his cheeks suggested that I was underestimating his preparedness for this prank, and that I had struck a nerve. 

Spencer quickly composed himself. “I’m not the one whose about to be drenched in that god-awful smelling liquid. It will drop on you in a matter of two minutes, unless I press this button telling it not to. I could explain to you all of the ingredients that it’s composed of, however-” “I’m good, thanks.” I huffed.

“Alright Reid, what do you want?” He smiled, knowing he had me right where he wanted me.

“I want you to admit that not only did I beat you in this prank war, but that I am also otherwise far superior to you in every aspect.” 

I glared at him. “You know I own a gun, right?”

Spencer chuckled. “So do I hear that you would enjoy smelling like-”

I huffed. “Alright, fine, fine, you, Doctor Spencer Reid, have bested me in this prank war and are far superior to me in every aspect of life or whatever.” I grumbled in annoyance.

Spencer grinned mischeviously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that, could you repeat yourself?” I offered him a deadpan stare to which he simply smiled and pressed the button. The alarms silence and the blaring lights died down. I stepped off of the plate, and all returned to normal.

“Now was that so hard?” He questioned smugly, holding the door open for me.

I walked up to him with a tight smile, before bashing him in the back of the head with the butt of my gun. Not hard enough to do any real damage, but definitely rough enough to make sure he knows to give it up. He yelped loudly as I walked away, arms crossed in annoyance.

Morgan glanced up at a flustered Reid who was rubbing the back of his head with a grimace.

“What did I tell you, kid? Never mess with a woman who carries a gun.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

[snacc-noir]

Unseal and Reveal pt2

Ao3

Part 1

Adapted from this post

Summary:

Adrien asks Marinette to fake date him after his father finds a pink ‘love note’ containing just her name on it

— but it was really the emergency note Ladybug gave him in case he needed to know her identity

Adrien has screwed up. 

But before anything begins, he’d like to make it very clear that he’s only ever had good intentions, believable smiles, and incredible lying ability – no matter what his friends say (“You once told Alya you had a great dentist so Marinette wouldn’t be suspicious”), because he’s kept the fact he’s Chat Noir under wraps and no one has been the wiser. 

Then again, Chat Noir is stylish, handsome, incredibly dressed, insanely hilarious, im(pecc)ably ripped, totally— 

Yeah, so Adrien just can’t live up to that (If it came down to it, he’d totally fall in love with himself if circumstances allowed.), and thus his identity is pretty secure , unlike his self-esteem on a good day. 

Specifically, today. 

Because he has screwed up.  

So yes, he’s somehow the best and worst liar ever, which probably likens to how it isn’t his secret identity that he Accidentally (three underlines for ‘accidentally’) reveals, but, uh, someone else’s. 

Ladybug’s. 

He knows Ladybug’s identity.  

But hey! Hey— remember, her idea. It was never him who suggested the ‘let’s write our names on letters in case we need to know in an emergency’, as that was definitely her. 

He’s screwed everything up, but it was definitely her. 

“Did you know? ” 

“Duh,” his kwami’s gravel voice says, “I know everything.” 

Adrien’s hands are rousing his hair so much at this point he might expose himself as Chat Noir if anyone went by his lean windows. “You knew this whole time!? That Ladybug is– That she’s– That—”  

All air escapes him in a corrupt elongated syllable. He flops on his Extra King size bed with silk sheets and fluffed pillows, almost knocking his model agency’s branded hydro-flask onto the desk adjacent with three exorbitant monitor screens. Oh, how difficult his life is.  

“You’re so pathetic.” 

He is.  

“This is hilarious.” 

It is not.  

‘“What am I supposed to do, Plagg?! Call her? ‘Hey love of my life, it’s me Adrien, but you also know me as Chat Noir. I accidentally found out your identity and long story short, my household thinks we’re dating and wants you over for dinner. Are you up for fake-dating and not killing me, please?” 

His kwami skulls a camembert roll. “I’m down for that idea.” 

Adrien pegs a sock. 

“How are you so calm?” 

“I shrugged in the face of dinosaur extinction. Your damsel in distress crisis – you’re the damsel, by the way – and ‘oohhh no, I’m so in love’ hullabaloo is nothing.” 

Adrien’s frown deepens. “I don’t sound like that.” 

“You do. Your voice goes like eee .” 

“What? No it doesn’t” 

“You’re right, it’s more like ahhh . ” 

The heat in Adrien’s acid eyes smarten. He crosses his arms, huffing in a way he hasn’t since early childhood, and glares at his ceiling. “I’m done talking to you.” 

He isn’t, of course, as there’s only one person in his life he can complain to about his array of #RelatableTeenBoy issues, like ditching your favourite topic of Physics one class to cater to a Giant Baby akuma (again) and being late due to lack of places to change into your skin-tight cat suit (you know; just those little things). And by Hawk Moth’s insufferable menacing he isn’t letting that outlet fall from under him. He needs to clear his thoughts, because believe him, there is a lot to sift, and it doesn’t help when part of this whole catastrophe has left him with the knowledge that— 

“Marinette is Ladybug!” 

Plagg has moved to Adrien’s three-panelled computer desk and is clicking through something. “I’m so glad you’ve caught up.” 

“And if she’s Ladybug, that means,” he goes on, white overshirt sleeves now uneven as he animates his words with a pillow, “she was just saying to me – to Chat – she was in love with him to save her identity! And there’s another boy she’s in love with! And–! And I might know who it is!” 

“Who?” Plagg asks, the volume juxtaposing his welder’s. 

“I said 'might’.” 

The keys click louder. “You mean because you know Ladybug in real life you could have met him before? Or you actually know him?” 

“I don’t know! I just know that Marinette’s… She’s in love with another guy.” The earlier exhilaration drains and his chest feels hollow and soul-sucking. “Wait– I can’t ask her to be my fake-girlfriend!” 

The destructive god scrolls through the itemised shopping cart to double-check his fromage orders without any fear of his owner noticing. Well you obviously don’t have a choice. Your dad wants her over for dinner. Besides, it’s Ladybug, remember? She’ll do anything to help a friend out.” 

Ladybug. 

Marinette. 

Of course.  

There are still many things that don’t add up (Multimouse: just how?) but of course. 

He can’t risk his own identity and hers to his father. He must keep the façade up. And if that mean s falling on his knees in front of who unarguably should be the most glorified woman in the world, crying to her to please just be his fake – very much, but unfortunately fake – girlfriend.  

He will. 

He’ll do it right now. 

- 

“I can’t believe you chickened out.” 

Walks to school, even with the cost of waking up earlier, are always more refreshing than drives in cold silence. The freedom here is less pale, and he can hiss at Plagg all he wants with only the dignity loss of onlookers noticing him crankily talking to himself. 

“Oh wait, yes I can. Because you’re a coward~. ” 

“I did not ‘chicken out’,” Adrien snaps. “And I’m no coward. I just— I need to speak to her in person instead. This way, she didn’t have to receive an unwanted call so late.” 

 “You mean six?” 

He huffs. “Marinette needs all the sleep she can get.” He pokes the creature back into his overshirt. “She’s always so busy. Even you’ve seen her collapse in class. Wait—!” 

The only one that waits is himself, columned with the line of trees ahead, locked in the interval of his soap opera as his audience darts for a shiny rock near a fire hydrant. 

“Because she’s Ladybug too! Of course! Of course! This makes so much sense! She’s so tired and overworked! It’s no wonder she’s all over the place – in the best of ways, I mean, she’s literally adorable when she’s frantic. Wait, have I always thought that? Have I always seen Marinette as the cutest thing ever? Her spluttering is so endearing. And if she’s already so tired, I can’t make her fake date me, too! She’s already so stressed! I’d literally be the scum of the earth if I even dare—” 

Plagg is staring at him with flat interest. Humbly aware of his judgement, Adrien swallows, letting the air untense and clams his hands – eager to narrate his animated allegory – in his pockets in strife to get a grip.  

He sighs. 

“What if I mess it up, Plagg?” 

He inventories his new rock in Adrien’s satchel. A hymn of silence roots in the place of what should be a snide remark. But there is no fed-up comment, just a kwami wriggling under his overshirt out of sight and a solemn voice that issues from it,  

“Kid, you’re partners. You work together. You forgive each other. You trust each other. And if Ladybug trusts you,” he sticks his head out a little more, “find it in you to trust yourself. You won’t mess this up if you put her and her identity’s safety first, which I know you will, because you love her and you’re a great hero.” 

Adrenaline dampening, Adrien smiles.  

“Thanks, Plagg.” 

- 

Marinette has never believed in bad luck until she met Chat Noir (fifty Mr Pigeon akumatisations this year with a feather allergy? The next lucky charm is going to be an Epi-pen) and for a while, she didn’t believe in good luck, even with being Ladybug. 

But that was then. Back then, meaning like, ten minutes ago before she was invited to stay back after PE by Adrien. 

Right now, though? Right now, she’s decided she’s going to hand-sew a bedazzled shirt embossed with, “Goddess of Luck” to wear while Ladybug on patrol (and on the back, a quote she woke up to on Instagram this morning: ‘“can also kick ass” – Adrien Agreste’ (she took ten screenshots when he posted that)), because Marinette has good luck.   

“You’ll be doing me a huge favour,” the ass-kicking quoter says on an afternoon she has not planned to receive the most exciting request of her life. 

And you know what she says? 

You know what the stuttering girl who may as well trademark the word ‘GAH’ she falls that much, says? 

You’ll never guess. 

No really, you won’t. 

Because turns out, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than just accomplished. 

So what if she thrones the winning title of a Gabriel fashion comp? What even matters of being class president and an all-around likable person? Who takes notice of another fashion mogul inviting you to live in New York because of your talent? ––An invitation you had to decline because, you know, being Paris’ zero-pay superheroine has a sprinkle more of importance. And oh, did she mention she’s Ladybug? Because she’s Ladybug. A superhero.  

But none of that matters right now. 

“I’d be happy to help.” 

Because she’s said yes.  

She—Marinette McStutter Dupain-Cheng—has said yes with her mouth (not vague hand animations over blubbering nonsense) to Adrien, and although her muscles are locked with their key over the Eiffel tower (and the tiny detail that her thoughts are screaming so much she can’t hear a thing of his relief and numerous ‘thank you’s), she’s still said yes!  

Screw every other accomplishment. She’s said yes to being Adrien’s fake girlfriend. 

Ladybug? Nah, that’s Mrs. Fake Agreste to you.  

Good luck is real.  

Okay but sure, ‘Fake girlfriend’ doesn’t exactly live up to ‘Very real girlfriend’, but being a fake isn’t that bad! She’s seen Lila do it every day for months – oh, hang on, no actually the term ‘fake’ has very negative and huge implications, then. However, in Marinette’s heavenly-blessed case, ‘fake’ means she’s doing a very big favour for a friend and is going to get more time with Adrien – just to name a few positives.  

“Seriously Marinette, you have no idea how much this means to me. I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have a friend like you.” 

‘Oh honey, I’m the lucky one. ’ 

“It’s– It’s no problem! Yeah! Really, I’ll come to dinner, no problem! It can’t be too hard. I can be your girlfriend! Eugh– Pretend girlfriend. It’s not hard being in love with you! I mean– Ugh!” 

The monstrosity that is the never-shutting-up hole in her face is blocked off by frantic hands, stifling the last of her eloquent groan. But peering up, she realises she really has underestimated how much this means to Adrien, because he looks like he’s poised on a cliff of ecstasy ready to fall – eyes verdant, big, and lushed over with a hue of moisture that twinkles, and a smile so bright and toothy the sunlight hollowing out the remaining shade of the PE stadium glints off it.  

In fact, her mess of a speech is such a compliment to Adrien that her locked-limbed body is suddenly engulfed by his. Startled in delightful senses of the word, she squeaks, and he quickly pulls away, face a few rose tones darker than before as his hands twitch at his side unsurely. 

“Uhh, I guess we have to get planning.” 

She watches in transfixed attraction as Adrien picks both their schoolbags up, finally blurting (without any squeak, she may add), 

“Y–Yes. We do.” 

(she didn’t say any stutter, so shut up.) 

“Would your father let you come over right now since school’s almost finished?” 

He casts a look to the exit thoughtfully. His flawless side-profile in high resolution before her, she sees the corner of his mouth quirk up in an unsettling familiar way, as if his whole charisma shifts to someone else’s.  

They do need to plan; to run away together, where only they share this odd secret - a place alone together where they'll look each other eye-to-eye and practice their sonnets of love to construct a believable facade for his father-

“It’s more fun sneaking to my girlfriend’s house, isn’t it?” 

That time, she squeaks.

And comes to the daunting realisation:

Marinette is screwed. 

[johns-prince]

TW for eating disorders, etc.

John OP here. Thanks for the beautifully written answer. I appreciate the honesty and in fact, you make very good points. I doubt I'd be the best influence on someone like John when it came to body image because we seem too alike in that department. I was a teenager in the size zero hysteria of the early 00s and this probably shaped my sense of aesthetics. I'm more relaxed about that now but my eye still responds to a certain look on people. I can't help it. I had my own "Fat Beatle" episode and I could tell how it all changed when I shed the weight. It didn't really matter how or whether I was miserable, I just looked the "right" way and people would let me know. It's possible I projected it all on poor John. But I know he'd relate to that in many levels.

I'm not a fan of the "rat man" thing either. I know people mean well and I try to look at it with humor but it does bother me. Mostly because the stans of the other boys are very positive about them and I'd like that for John too. His looks were a major part of his struggle so I know he'd be crushed watching everyone praising his mates (especially Paul) while he gets to be the fucking rat, you know? As I have mentioned before, you can feel it even on fanfiction. Even the writers who seem more John inclined will go on for pages about how pretty Paul (which he is, of course) and how lucky John was to be with him. Like it was a favor or something. That when the stories don't keep pushing that tired trope about Crazy John crushing on pretty but Immovable Sexuality Paul. That's not really my cup of tea tbh.

In the end I'm just happy to start this discussion

with intelligent people who will bring their opinions to the table respectfully. I hope my previous comment didn't trigger anyone or came across as worse than I hoped. If that was the case, I'd like to apologize, it really wasn't my intention.

Darling, don't fret. You've really nothing to be sorry about. One reason why I relate to John is because I have issues with bulimia to this day, and can experience hardcore body dysmorphia at the worst of times dues to my insecure and self hatred towards my body. I get it.

I remember that, vaguely at least, the whole size zero thing. I do, that was such a strange phenomenon, because it takes a certain body type to fit it naturally, or... Y'know, starving yourself.

Anyway, I think we all sort of project on our favorite boy, and we all sort of see ourselves in them too. You wouldn't be the first, and certainly won't be the last.

Yeah, I completely understand how you feel. Maybe I'm just overreacting, maybe I don't have a sense of humor, but I'm inclined to feel protective over John, and I feel like if you know about John's insecurities and struggles with himself in regards to his physical appearance, why... Would you yourself find it a silly and relatively harmless thing to apparently joke about calling him things like that, idk like I said I don't see anyone else really making such snide comments and quips when it comes to the other three. So at what time did the bandom just agree it was an acceptable thing to do towards John?

Whatever, people can do and say what they like y'know free country an' all, but I don't have to approve of it or like it.

Real talk, I low-key I am guilty of writing in that way but I primarily do it as if John feels that way, or thinks it, or feels it. Due to his insecurity and self doubt, the fear that he'll always be abandoned by those he holds dear and loves, the fear that it's all just too good to be true for him-- that's why I ever write a scene when it comes to Paul, that it's just John's way of thinking, not seeing his own worth, and ends up sort of idolizing those individuals (listen John once compared Paul to a religion that he knew/had so I feel like he idolized and saw Paul in this 'oh God he's too perfect oh no' sort of light, which both terrified and fed into the 'paul's going to leave me one day he'll figure it out that he doesn't need me I'm not enough' sort of mindset too) he just had a bit of a habit doing that to those he held intimately dear, until... They let him down or proved his insecurities and doubts right, that in the end they all leave him and don't actually love him. It's a cruel self fulfilling prophecy in a sense, since John, either consciously or subconsciously, put relationships and people through tests to see if they could withstand him and his antics, if they'd stay loyal, if they'd still love him. Sometimes he'd just push people away, and then feel like they just up and abandoned him...

I'm rambling. Anyway the point, your point, still stands! Their relationship shouldn't be written as one doing the other a favor for liking them and being with them! Maybe in reality people did think Paul was doing not only John a favor for being his partner but also a favor to everyone else, because John had Paul and Paul could be seen as the one handling John's lead. It's kind of like how some peer at John's art school thought Cynthia had done them all a favor for taking John.

I don't like that. John isn't some problem to be passed onto someone who must then bear the burden of him. That's just... Wrong. And I think both Cynthia and Paul would think so too. John could be challenging but geez, it shouldn't be made out like anyone who loved John and wanted to be around him and be with him was just some sort of favor to the world or to him.

If anything John and Paul were both extremely lucky to have found each other-- it's not exactly common for soulmates to find each other, especially at such a young age? Please. Most of us will never, which is common.

Like the crushing went both ways lol if anything it's Paul who crushed first-- while John never mentioned it, Paul had brought up how he'd noticed John long before meeting him at the Fete. They had even briefly talked at a newspaper shop which Paul had been working at. He'd see John on the streets, he'd notice him riding on the top deck of buses, or in line at the fish and chips-- he'd try and steal glances at John when he'd notice him on the same bus! Paul was instantly drawn to this tough looking teddy with big sideboards and greased hair and the drainies and a roguish air about him. He was like a schoolgirl with a crush, and he didn't even know this boy. Yet.

If anything it's Paul who noticed John first, and started crushing on John first. Then they finally were introduced at the local Fete, and that was it for both of them.

And let's be real John might've been a bit crazy, but Paul loved him, loved his touch of crazy. And Paul might be immoveable heterosexuality, but that goes straight out the window when it comes to John, and only John it appears.

So yeah, I get where you're coming from, and your grievances and perspective.

I'm glad you decided to share it with me! Sorry about my rambling (• ▽ •;)

[bookworm-blogs]

Surprise Ask!: Some Kayama and Shirakumo headcannons?

I’M SORRY FOR NOT RESPONDING SOONER I’VE BEEN BUSY W/ WORK N SHIT FHFHFHH

But omg yes! HELL yess I do!!

Since you didn't specify whether their relationship would be platonic or romantic, I'll just do both because BY GOD THEIR FRIENDSHIP ITSELF IS HEAVILY OVERLOOKED. (I'm still salty about Kayama's lack of presence in the main magna regarding the Kurogiri reveal. She's just as much a friend to Shirakumo as Aizawa and Yamada, damn it! Then again Horikoshi could be holding off on us for a reason idk we'll just have to wait and see...)

Anyways! Platonic (ft. Rooftop Gang) headcannons!

1. Kayama and Shirakumo have a similar taste in music. I know our world and the BNHA world are different (apparently they haven't reached the moon yet in BNHA?? And Aizawa had a touch screen phone in Vigilantes so I'm assuming their generation and our millennials grew up a tad bit differently), but I can't help but think they would be complete nerds of 80's rock. Smashing Pumpkins, Fleetwood Mac, Red Hot Chili Peppers... These two would always contact each other on when the next album hits and be each other's first choice to concerts and would always blow all their money on band merch. Their all-time favorite song would probably be "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac, or "September” by Earth, Wind, and Fire. They always argue about which is better.

2. These two are the BIGGEST video game nerds. Every now and then, when they aren’t busy with school or work studies, Kayama would come over to Shirakumo’s house to play games with him. Aizawa isn’t too fond of video games, and Yamada prefers to listen to different types of podcasts, so that leaves Kayama to be Shirakumo’s gamer buddy, which isn’t bad at all since this girl loves all types of games. From Animal Crossing to the Halo franchise, Kayama has a surprisingly broad range, with her favorite genre of video games being horror shooter games like Resident Evil. Shirakumo isn’t a big fan of horror and is more a fan of free world games like Red Dead Redemption or The Last of Us, though he does make an exception for point and click horror games.

3. Kayama occasionally pops in on the boys’ study sessions. Usually, Yamada would be at the helm tutoring Shirakumo and Aizawa, though Kayama would pop in from time to time to help him with harder subjects like history since she’s smart. She used to host their sessions at her house, though that quickly stopped since she always dressed up as a sexy teacher and got a little too close to the boys while showing them how to solve equations. 

4. They would regularly barge in each others’ homes. Shirakumo was especially guilty of this, as he would use his clouds to fly over to his friends’ room windows and sneak in through through them. It became such a common occurrence that Aizawa, Yamada, and Kayama all decided to just keep their windows open for the cloud boy to come in whenever. Usually Aizawa would be Shirakumo’s favorite victim (he loved watching Aizawa leap out of his skin every time he knocked on the window), though Yamada and Kayama were just as entertaining (Shirakumo once knocked on Yamada’s window and nearly went deaf after the blond screamed with his quirk on. Kayama was a bit more risky for obvious reasons). Kayama was the first one to return the favor, however, and when Shirakumo saw her sitting on his bed in the dark while petting Sushi like an evil mastermind, he let out a high pitched scream that Kayama still holds over his head to this day. 

5. Kayama and Shirakumo "flirt" with each other all the time. You know Ayame and Shigure from Fruits Baskets? How they would say something incredibly corny to each other before suddenly being like, "haha cheers mate." That's these two. Since they hang out on a regular basis, people always make fun of them by calling them boyfriend/girlfriend. One day, they got so fed up with having to explain themselves that they decided, "fuck it, if they want a show we'll give them a show." When they made their first target pass out from a furious blush and a bloody nose, Shirakumo and Kayama made this their "how to keep hoes at bay" strategy. Yamada finds their antics hilarious, while Aizawa always thought it was weird. Every time they "flirt," Shirakumo and Kayama always make sure to say "no hetero" as soon as the other person is gone.

Now for the romantic headcannons!

1. Everything is the same, except Shirakumo forgot to say "no hetero." This made Shirakumo have an existential crisis for about a month. He would always ask himself, "Why didn't I say it that time? Was I being stupid? Or did I actually mean it? What if this changes our friendship forever? Oh God, what if she hates me?" Aizawa would always be the first person Shirakumo goes to to vent his woes, sometimes even coming to his room in the middle of the night. While Shirakumo would ramble about how bad it is to catch feelings for his gal pal, Aizawa would always listen until he's done before telling him to just confess. Shirakumo doesn't, and this routine lasts an entire month.

2. Kayama realizes Shirakumo's growing crush but doesn't say anything bc she wants to hear it from him. This man tries acting like nothing's bothering him, but he was as obvious as Dipper from Gravity Falls (muttering under his breath and hopping at the first opportunity to hang out with her). At first Kayama didn't think much of it, but when she caught him glaring at a couple gawking boys in the hallway, she realized what was also going on.

3. After 3 months of awkwardness, Kayama finally dragged him off on a date. Shirakumo was terrified the entire time, waiting for Kayama to tell him he's not her type, but was shocked when she bluntly told him, "we should start dating" after watching a movie. Everything fell into place afterwards.

4. These two became the hottest couple at UA. Up until the Tasomiya Incident, Shirakumo and Kayama acted a lot like how they did before, except they now had dinner dates, movie nights, and all the fun couple stuff like making out behind the school and genuinely flirting (much to their friends' disgust. Seriously, do these two have no shame?). Kayama loved going shopping, and Shirakumo was more than happy to carry around her stuff on his clouds. Once, they got caught sneaking out to the pier at night and made a brave escape on Shirakumo's clouds. As soon as they got back to his house, they were on the floor, laughing.

5. After Shirakumo's death, Kayama hadn't dated since. Sometimes she would go out whenever her friends would set her up, but Shirakumo was the last time she ever has a serious relationship. She protects Sushi with her life, even as he grows older. Sushi was the last living remnant of Shirakumo, and she wants to keep him for as long as possible.

Little does she know he may not be as dead as she thinks... (Dun, dun dun)

Anyways yeah, I’m a slut for this rarepair and it breaks my heart that there isn’t more content on it. Fear not, my fellow CloudNight stans, for I am making a fanfic on Ao3 rn and am also gonna make a one-shot in a few days! Thank you, Nightowl, for giving me the chance to scream for a bit! ;’)

[avionvadion]

I’m making progress you guys I swear 😭 Here’s some little snippets.

Inuyasha: Forest Deep: Chapter 24 Preview (WIP)

“I’m not sure.” Shippō stated, furrowing his brows. He pat Kirara on the neck. “Do you smell ‘em anywhere?”

She opened her mouth and let out a tiny roar of what I could only assume was confirmation, because she eventually made her way to the front of the hut and then pushed her way passed the hanging door. I instantly flinched at the sunlight that invaded my eyelids, having been locked up for so long, and I hissed- bringing a hand over my eyes. “Eugh, I hate it…”

Shippō made a face. “You have been inside all week…”

“Oi, kid!” Huh? Oh, that voice… I recognize it. Blinking a few times and squinting as my eyes tried to adjust to the sunlight, I turned to see Kōga wandering over with a wave of his hand. Kirara walked over to meet him halfway and then came to a stop, and I stared in confusion when he leaned over with his hands on his hips, a scowl on his face. “Why didn’t you say Maria was your sister? I could have brought you two together sooner!”

Ah… I mean…

“I… tried… I think?” When was that conversation? We were both on Kirara at that point of time, weren’t we? Oh! “It was when Inuyasha had turned… y-you know…”

Kōga scrunched his nose up. He straightened his back and folded his arms across his chest. “Really? I don’t remember you doing that.”

Yeah, I know. You stopped listening midway through my sentence because we were chasing Kagura. I hung my head to the side and yawned, sleepy.

“That’s fair. So, um…” I looked up at him, a little awkward and a tiny bit grateful. “You’ve been looking after her… all this time?”

“Hm? Yeah.” He nodded, flashing a grin. A couple wolves started to make their way over and I tensed, but did my best not to be too scared. Kirara and Shippō weren’t reacting in fear, so why should I? It’s fine. I’m fine. “According to two of my men, she fed some of the wolves when she first met them. They brought her back to the mountain since she was injured.”

Kōga then scratched the back of his head, thinking about everything that’s happened and appearing a little sheepish.

“We… also thought she might have done something to Kagome at the time because of her strange clothes. We didn’t hurt her, though, so don’t bother getting mad at me.” He scowled. “She’s a proper member of the Wolf Demon Tribe now. She’s even taught my men a thing or two about swords.”

Wait, really? My heart simultaneously warmed and ached at the thought, and I gave a small laugh- breathy and pained and weak. I was so glad. She’s had people looking out for her. Heck, she was even whipping them into shape. Maria truly was a force of her own. “That sounds like her.”

“Yeah. Oh, hey- here comes the others.”

I followed the direction he was staring and saw Maria making her way over with Inuyasha, Sango, Kagome, Miroku, Maria, and… Tōran? I guess they were discussing what the panther demons plans were now that they had been defeated. Or maybe not. I had no idea. The half-demon’s ear twitched and I held up a hand, waving lazily at them with a grin.

“Morning…!”

“You’re so loud.” Inuyasha scowled.

“You say that like it’s new.” I countered. He hmph’d, folding his hands into his sleeves in the way he always does, and then glared when he saw Kōga standing there. “You again.”

“Hey there, mutt.” Kōga greeted, smirking, giving a sarcastic wave. “How’s it going? Wash out those fleas of yours yet?”

“Funny you should ask.” He snarked. “I was just wondering the same thing about you.”

“Okay, kids!” Kagome exclaimed, clapping her hands in front of her and stepping between the boys. Inuyasha and Kōga jumped, startled by her intervention. “Let’s not have this escalate any farther! Irene still isn’t feeling well, and it’s time we all discussed our plans for moving forward. Got it? Good.”

“Hmph.” Inuyasha was not happy at all with this. His face had twisted into a begrudging pout, head turned to the side to avoid looking at her. “He started it.”

“And I’m ending it.” Kagome stated, hands on her hips as she leaned over and glared up at him. “No fighting!”

“Whatever you say, Kagome.” Kōga said, voice taking on a much softer tone than before. He held his chin up, as if priding himself on something. “Unlike him, I actually listen to the woman I’m in love with.”

That lit another fire under Inuyasha, because his amber gaze snapped up with a rage. “You little-!”

“Sit, boy!”

I flinched when the beads around the half-demon’s neck lit up, and he screeched as his face was violently forced to meet the ground. Maria let out a whistle- strangely enough not surprised by what just happened. I guess Kagome used the incantation against Inuyasha sometime while I was asleep. Him and Kōga together was a recipe for disaster, after all, though I didn’t really approve of the beads of subjugation.

Miroku shook his head with a sigh, staff held to his side. “You’d think he’d learn by now.”

Sango raised her brows. “Bold of you to assume he knows how.”

“Agreed.” Shippō stated bluntly. I made a face.

“You’re not… wrong…”

Kagome let out a huff, then turned to me with a bright smile. “So, now that that’s settled! Let’s get down to business.”

Twisted Wonderland: Once Upon A Dream Chapter 35 Preview (WIP)

“Fufu~ you’re most welcome, dear.” Lilia chuckled, sitting up and leaning over, bringing his fingers to my hair and playing with my bangs again. “How are you feeling? I wasn’t expecting to find both you and Silver passed out on the furniture when I returned.”

Frick! Silver! Oh my gods!

Lilia quickly retracted his hand when I hurriedly sat up, the man watching as I looked around in a panic. Locating the sleepy teen within seconds, I caught the jacket as it fell off my lap and stumbled off the sofa, pain momentarily shooting through my wounded knee before I grabbed onto the sofa’s armrest.

“A-Are you okay!?” Aurora-colored eyes met mine and slowly blinked, observing the way I was acting and tilting his head just slightly. “You- earlier- you just…! I-I found you on the ground and you wouldn’t wake up, and-!”

I whirled around to face Lilia, all the worse-case scenarios rushing to mind.

“Poma! You should take him to Poma! The nurse! Nurse Salvador.” Crap. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I pressed a hand to my head, jacket draped over my arm. “He can… help…”

“I’m alright, Lady Eleanora.” Silver spoke quietly, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing his head. “I… apologize for troubling you.”

“What? No, no-“ Gods, my head is spinning. “-that's fine, I’m fine; are you fine!? You were literally collapsed and-“

“I’m afraid that’s normal for Silver.” Lilia quickly informed, floating up off the sofa and plopping on the armrest instead.

Pokémon: Time Lapse: Reluctant Hero Chapter 16 Preview (WIP)

This was such a ridiculous situation. Was Brock done cooking yet? I really want to talk to him. Basil and Belladonna waddled over to Blue, unable to join the group cuddle because of the room Umbreon took up, and the former pōkemon trainer raised a brow in amusement.

He gladly welcomed them over, petting them and gently scratching the side of Belladona’s face. “Compared to you, they’re pretty well behaved. I guess that’s because Brock is helping you train them.”

“Hey, now!” Brock suddenly said, entering the room with two bowls of soup in his hands. A light-hearted grin was on his face. “I’ll have you know she’s an excellent trainer! She beat me first try.”

“I think that says more about you than her.” Blue joked, and yelped when Basil headbutted his leg. “Whoa! Okay. Someone’s a little protective.”

Brock laughed. The boy’s smile only grew when he saw the way I was bombarded with pōkemon, and he calmly walked over- handing a bowl over to me. Umbreon took that as her queue to leave my lap and hop onto the floor, brushing her trainer’s legs.

“Here.” Brock said, watching as I set the bowl down in my lap. “Eat this. We’ll leave once you’ve both finished breakfast, seeing as everyone is in such a good mood.”

“What about Nugget Bridge?” Blue inquired, frowning. He set the bowl on the armrest of the couch, blowing on it before picking up the spoon. “Team Rocket has tons of their goons there.”

“Not anymore.” Brock smirked, placing his hands on his hips with a proud air about him. “I took care of them. I had Basil and Belladonna knock em out and drag ‘em to the police center. After that, I told them about the underground hideout- so they’re pretty much emptying the place out. Team Rocket isn’t going to be camping out in this city any longer.”

Oh.

Taking note of my silence, both boys turned to look at me. Sensing both the negative and conflicted emotions within me, Ansem let out a small mew and Basil and Belladonna moved off of Blue’s lap and closer to Machamp and me.

I lowered my head, eyebrows furrowed as I tried to decipher what it was I was feeling and how I was supposed to react. I was pleased, I guess, to hear that the underground base was being removed and the goons inside and out of it were arrested. I was also bothered by it.

Not because I cared about Team Rocket, but… because Brock took care of it all on his own. He didn’t take me along. He could have gotten severely hurt, captured and beaten the same way Blue had been. I don’t like that. I don’t like him being in danger.

“Hey…” The older, brown-skinned teen in question spoke up softly, stepping forward and kneeling down on the floor to look up and catch my gaze. I blinked, seeing his face in front of mine. Brock was frowning. “Are you mad at me?”

What?

“I know… you like to do things on your own. I also know that you don’t want to put me in harm's way. But…”

Brock reached forward, resting his hands on my arms gently- careful not to disturb any of my wounds or burns. He looked so sad, so heartbroken and concerned, and something inside me ached at seeing that. I wanted him to go back to how he was before- smiling the way he had been when he was cooking.

“I don’t like you getting hurt either.”

I…

“You need to start relying on me more. We’re not helpless or weak. We’re just as strong as you are. We can help you. There’s no reason for you to go tackling so many problems alone, especially if it’s just going to break you in the end. Grunt, I-“

Brock cringed, realizing his mistake the second he saw my flinch.

“I’m sorry. I just… want you to realize we’re here. I went out on my own with Basil and Belladonna because I wanted you to know this. We’re your friends, and we want to help you. But you have to let us.”

“That’s…”

I blinked a few times, feeling a familiar sting in my eyes, and suddenly Machamp’s grip loosened. My pokémon huddled around us, worried. I tried to speak, to get the words out and defend myself, to protest against him doing something like this again, only to find that I couldn’t.

He had made a good point.

[bellalikeskitties]

mixed ☾

pairing: jung jaehyun x reader x seo johnny

being a rare half-turned and half-true born vampire with dangerous men at the tip of your fingers proves to be difficult

word count: 2.2k+

genre: vampire au, doctor au (just a dash)

warning/s: blood, injuries, kidnapping, suggestive themes

It wasn’t even late at night yet, but here you were. Tall men cornered you in a dark alleyway after a small chase away from the city. “You’ve got nowhere to run, lady!”. One of them says, and he takes something out of his pocket. Seeing the silver glint, you groan. “Okay. Let’s not be hasty". They laugh as your back hits a wall. 

“Give us everything you have, and we won’t hurt you". Exhaling, you take out your wallet and phone, placing it on the ground before raising your hands up. “Will you let me go now? I don’t want any-”. He quickly presses the knife into you, watching the light disappear from your eyes. “Can’t sweetie. You’ve seen our faces so letting you run isn’t an option”. You sink to the floor as he pulls it out.

Chuckling, he wipes his weapon off and bends to pick up your items. “You should have just let me leave, man". They freeze. You lift your body, grimacing at the pool of blood around you made. “What? Don’t act like you’ve never seen a dead person talking before". He gasps in horror as he stares into your red glowing eyes. 

You smile and flash them your fangs. “V-vampire! A vampire!“. He stutters and crawls back. The rest of his friends flee, leaving just you and him. You take your belongings and taunt him, “Boo”. He shrieks and blacks out. You laugh but quickly wince, the wound in your stomach proving to be a problem. Groaning a bit, you leave the scene and head home.

In this world, vampires existed, but they weren’t the sparkling, garlic-hating, can’t-see-reflection kind. They were the blood-thirsty, undead, God-fearing kind. They were divided into two halves. The Divine and Cursed, or in easier terms, the trueborn and turned. You were a rare kind. Made from a true-born mother and turned father. 

You were a myth, the impossible. The blood of the divine was not compatible with those of the cursed, any child conceived from a turned would die. That’s why most male trueborns rarely select turned females as their mates, wanting to keep their bloodline sacred. Your mother was one of the elite; powerful and well respected within the Divines.

She fell in love with a male human. Turned him into her kind and did the unthinkable. She was pregnant with you. They were beyond elated, but their happiness was short-lived, just like your mother’s life. As soon as you were born, her own divinity passed to you. It killed her and drove your father insane. 

Unfortunately, the turned were called the cursed only because they were. As their bodies accepted partial divinity, they were burdened to love and worship the vampire that made them so. Your father, out of grief, killed himself. Leaving you in this sinister world alone.

You push your body into the tub, grimacing when the warm water turns red. You didn’t expect to be mugged, even more, because they were human. Most of your kind avoided you, they hated your rare case. Scoffing, you remember the disgust and fear your trueborn relatives had when they first saw you. Only your aunt liked you, she raised you and helped you get on your feet. Telling you weird stories about your sort. 

One day she told you about why they disliked you. You had the power to rule over all the vampires. You were the most perfect kind; the most loved and blessed by God. You could walk under the sun, but you had no heartbeat. You could eat human food and human blood too. But most importantly, you had the authority to make every vampire worship you.

“(y/n)! You’re hurt!”. Just like this one. Jaehyun was a trueborn vampire from a noble family who had been alive for centuries. Their family was one of the richest, dealing with major businesses all over the world. He met you while you worked at the hospital, immediately going on his knees and saying you were the love of his life. “It’s not that bad, Jae. Just a few stitches and I’ll be good to go”. With a small pout, he crouched and moved closer to the tub. 

“It doesn’t matter you’re still hurt”. Another man says, leaning into the door frame. Johnny was also trueborn, but his folks were one of the more terrifying ones. They dealt with shady stuff and attacked humans for no reason or for fun. While Jaehyun was ‘courting’ you, he found you. Smelling your scent from a distance, he approached you and quickly became attached. After a few months, they were both endurable. They visited often and would do anything you asked them to do.

You sighed, watching the two fuss over you. “Johnny could you pass me the kit?“. He nods, reaching over the cabinet to pass you a container. As you pretended to be human, you landed yourself a decent education and even a well-paid job. Working as a doctor had its downsides, you were constantly tired and overworked. But you had access to an excessive amount of blood for your monthly cravings.

At the hospital, you were the kind and talented senior, always looking out for everyone while still being competent to save tons of patients. Among your race, you were the samaritan, handing out ‘food’ and help to the vampires who had no power or weren’t able to suppress their hunger and harmed humans. Slowly, you had a group of individuals under your protection. Their lives changing, because of your kindness.

Wincing, you poke the needle through your skin again. You finally finished after a few knots here and there. Sighing, you press your head on the mirror. A hand brushes on your shoulder. “You okay?“. You watch your reflection in the mirror. You looked paler than usual. Johnny lifts you and walks to your bed. Clutching onto his shoulder, you relax, thankful they were there to help you. “Get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning“.

One of them tucks you in and the other brushes the hair from your face. You close your eyes, feeling the exhaustion of taking a knife directly. The men continue to talk. The last thing you hear was something about ‘fucking someone up’. The next morning you’re up and ready. The boys asked up to stay home and rest for the day. You argued, saying your work would definitely make you better.

You walked through the hallways, your coworkers greeting you. Fortunately, your day went by with no complications. A few ‘people’ you’ve helped before dropped by and gave you flowers, saying they got news of your attack last night. You remember the two, they said they would stop by and check up on you during your shift. Your visitors left after you thanked them, but now your office was filled with different plants. That’s why you were walking, looking for places where they needed some help. Fortunately, the ER paged for you.

It wasn’t that far, but you still had to walk there. It was fairly short, but due to the injury you had, it took longer than expected. A longer and a more unexpected turn. While you rounded the corner, you had accidentally bumped into someone. Although you didn’t mind and made your way, that person didn’t. He forcefully took your arm and hauled you to him. “Found you“. He whispered. He had bloodshot eyes, chapped lips, and deep bags. He scared you.

“Oh, my God! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!“. You knew exactly what he was, a crazed trueborn who wanted the ‘ruler’ to reign over them. You’ve met one in the past and successfully escaped from them, but his grip on you was unrelenting. “Let go“. You pushed away from him, terrified. He grinned, jabbing his hand into your wound. You gasp and fall back. 

“You can’t leave. You can’t leave me, us! You’re the only hope for us!“. He snaked his bloody hand around you, dragging you away. Looking around, you searched for someone to help. You could’ve stopped him, but you were practically human at that point. You hadn’t fed in weeks and your body was too busy healing you.

Heavy breaths left your lips. You were essentially dead, but everything still hurt. Somehow, you had grabbed his shoulder to stop him and he turned to you. “Why can’t you understand?“. He yelled. “You are our only salvation! Only you can deliver us from evil, you can be one with God!“. 

Tears slipped through your eyes. You were drained, tired of your life constantly at risk. He was talking about you being a God and that made you sick. “Please, just let go“. You choked and screamed, but he was determined to take you with him.

“What do we have here?“. A familiar voice echoed in your ears. You whipped your head back and there they were. The man turned to them. “Nothing. Turn away if you don’t want to get hurt“. You sobbed, the relief washing over you. “I could say the same to you“. Johnny’s eyes flashed and in a second his hand was on the man’s neck. Jaehyun rushed to your side, holding you as you cried. 

You buried your head into his chest, not wanting to listen to whatever Johnny was doing. “What took you so long? I was waiting for you“. The younger man cradled you. “We were dealing the man from last night, princess. I’m so sorry we were late“. He was stroking your back gently like you might break if he did anything else.

You finally felt your nerves ease, sniffling a bit before looking at Jaehyun. “Can you tell Johnny to stop? He doesn’t need to go that far“. He looked reluctant but signaled to the other male. You hear something drop and footsteps moving to you. “(y/n), how long has it been since you fed?“. You jolt and push yourself up. A bloodied mess in front of you. You grimaced, patting your side. 

“(y/n), I asked you a question. I expect an answer“. Johnny was staring at you, eyes glowing. They held no evil intentions towards you, you knew that, but he still frightened you. Licking your lips, you murmur. “2 months“.

They both sighed. Knowing you fasted again. It’s not like you hated drinking, it just seemed unethical and weird. Johnny lifted your blouse, examining your wound. “If you had just fed, this-“, he poked your wound teasingly, “would be gone by now”. You pushed him away, and the younger growled, “Don’t give her more pain“. 

Rolling his eyes, Johnny used his nail to make a slight cut on his wrist. His blood flowed freely and your senses spiked. Hunger resonated in you, the tips of your fingers tingled at the scent. It wasn’t like you couldn’t feed on each other’s blood. Actually, it was something only mates do. The two men frequently feed you with their own blood. It should’ve marked you as theirs, but because of your divinity, it never did.

“Stop, (y/n). Don’t fight it“. Jaehyun held you in place, his hands firm on you. The other placed his wrist gently on your lips, letting you suckle on his skin. You sighed, the deathly thirst in you burning down. You felt lighter, and the stab didn’t bother you anymore. As you sighed and relaxed, the other men watched with a sinful gaze. Filling their minds up with your vulnerable state. To male vampires, feeding each other was as similar to having sex, but you didn’t know that.

You continued to lap and suck at his skin, whining when he removed his arm. “Ah, Johnny“. He clenched his jaw and watched you pout. Only then did you realize the heavy breaths Jaehyun was making and the tight grasp he had on you. You feel your face flush when you notice the tightness in their pants. “Princess, don’t say my name like that in public, unless?“. You choked, stepping away from them. “W-what? I-I mean, we should, um, clean this up“. They both chuckled. Your stuttering made their hearts melt.

You were glad none of the patients walked by. If they had, Johnny would have killed them on the spot. Jaehyun found out who your attacker was. A deranged turned vampire whose trueborn died. He was looking for something to ease the pain, and sadly, it was you. 

“I’m fine, auntie. It wasn’t serious at all“. You lied through your teeth, pressing the phone into your ear as you leaned into your couch. They finally persuaded you to stay home this time, focusing on healing instead of work. “Don’t lie, I heard from one of my friends that the Jung and Seo family helped you“. You could feel her fuss through her voice.

You hummed. You weren’t sure what to do with them, but they didn’t mind. They were content with you by their side. “With them with you, you could just really be the ‘supreme ruler’!“. You laughed with her. When she said that, you felt like you could do it. But you weren’t influential, nor did you have the strength to do it, for now. “Yeah, leading the entire race doesn’t sound too bad, sounds fun actually“.

You had said it with no intentions. You just went with the flow, chatting with your favorite relative. But to the two trueborns who were secretly eavesdropping, it was a mission. Their smiles were wide, blood rushing, they were excited. Excited to see you rule over them.

~

yay vampire au! how was it? im not used to writing about graphic scenes yet so

anw, hope u guys liked it

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Live Prey

The dingy yellow plastic doors swung open, propelled by a rolling bed, pushed by three medical staff in protective gear and masks. Lying on the gurney, uncovered and unclothed was the Chinese Hybrid that was trucked in from the Cage.

He was heavily sedated, a plastic mask pumping oxygen into him. “The boss wants us to make sure he’s well supplied with nutrients.” The lead doctor said, pointing to the nurse.

The nurse hurries over to a chill storage chest to pull out a bag of a yellow fluid. 

“Empty two bags into him and then prepare the heavy sleepers. The boss says he doesn’t want to risk a live feeding.”

The nurse sighed. “It’s really too bad. He’s so handsome. You’d think one this powerful he’d want to keep as a fighter.”

“There’s a such thing as too strong. If they’re too strong he can’t control him. He’s already got El Tigre, he doesn’t need another. Too risky. It’s better to just feed Tigre. He hasn’t eaten in a long time.” He pulled his gloves on. “Check the sedation levels. Don’t worry too much about giving him too much, this boy’s going to die anyway.”

“Last time he fed, he fed some ugly monsters. How is this little one going to do any harm to Tigre?” The nurse asked.

“The boss knows what the boss knows. It’s not our job to question it. If anything happens to Tigre we’re all dead. Remember the last time the doctor questioned throwing in someone, saying he was too young. The Boss came himself and shot the doctor in the face. That’s how I got this job yeah?  His body fell, right there.” He pointed to the corner. “Let’s just do it and get paid. No questions.”

The nurse inserted the IV in the young man’s arm. Her eyes were sad above her greenish blue mask. As she gazed at him, she remembered her own son, bright and happy. He grew up in a risky neighborhood, stayed out of trouble, excelled in school. Graduated with a scholarship. 

One day he refused to join a gang when told. And that was it. Buried in a mass grave. 

Ever since then she’d worked here, for her second son. The younger one. Under the wings of her boss, her whole family was protected. No one dared touch her because she was one of his. So even though she knew what she was doing was wrong, she heard a voice in her mind telling her, “Don’t let your conscience bother you. Close your eyes and look away. You don’t want happened to your first son to happen to your second.”

She squeezed the bag of IV fluid to get the drip good and going. “So what are we doing after this?”

“There’s a nice resort right outside of here. I’d like to visit. Gamble away some of my pay there before I head back home. I’ve got a long drive. 14 hours. I don’t want to go this far and then not do nothing. How about you?”

“Oh... I don’t know.” She sighs. “I’m feeling a little tired.”

They chatted like this, with the body between them absorbing the thick fluid of pure vitamins and nutrients. Once the bags were done, he would die and be food for Tigre.

Her eyes shift to the young man’s face again. He had long eye lashes. They fanned out on his cheeks. She feels like if she stood there long enough, she could count them, one by one.

The anesthesiologist turned to the drawer where they kept the powerful sedatives. Once injected, the young man’s diaphragm would be paralyzed and he would die from lack of oxygen.

She removed the plastic mask from his face. He wouldn’t need it any more. She raised her hand to make the sign of the cross and then dropped.it. “Alejandro. The sedatives are in the left most drawer. Things got switched around during the resupply.”

“Oh they did?” The anesthesiologist trusted her. He was a bit nervous, new, and unused to being an executioner. If this boy was meant to live, he wouldn’t notice that she was lying. This way, she could say it was an honest mistake. If he noticed her deceit, she could say it just wasn’t God’s will for him to live.

The  anesthesiologist didn’t notice. He picked up the filled needle and took her word for it. The woman stepped back a bit as the  anesthesiologist mistakenly injected the young man with adrenaline.

Five seconds later, his eyes snapped open. They were a brilliant shining gold, with narrow slits for pupils. The young man looked at the  anesthesiologist who opened his mouth. “W-”

Then the man went from lying prone, to launching himself form the table and kicking the  anesthesiologist into the wall, bouncing his head off it. The doctor grabbed his phone and was the targeted next,  The patient grabbed his wrist and twisted it, sending the phone clattering to the tile floor and shattering. “Who are you. What is this place?” His voice was emotionless. Like a robot’s

“I can’t tell you! I can’t tell you anything!” The doctor pleaded, nearly collapsing from pain and fear.

“You need to get out of here.” The nurse’s voice was trembling and frightened.

“Do you have a phone?” 

She nodded and quickly laid it on the table. 

The young man grabbed it then went over to the unconscious anesthesiologist and started to strip him of his clothes while dialing a number. He spoke on the phone. “EVA. I’m here. I need you to trace the schematic and give me a way out of here.”

He looked at the nurse. Then back at the drawers. He picked the right drawer and not the left one, picking out the sedatives. He then injected the anesthesiologist first. “Don’t worry, I’m only giving a small amount. I won’t kill him.”

“I... how did you know?” The woman asked.

“i wasn’t completely out. It takes more than that.” He then went to the doctor and injected him next.

The nurse watched as he approached her. She then pulled a wall panel and pressed a red button. When he looked at her in confusion she said, “I’m sorry. I have to make it look like I resisted!”

“Yes. Who is Tigre... where is he?”

“I don’t know where he’s held, I’ve never seen him before...”

He nodded and then gave her the sedative, resting her against he wall as she lost consciousness.

“EVA is there a prison facility here? Some place to hold a person.”

“Welcome back, Chu Zihang. In the lowest area of the building there is a secure area. I’m working now to hack the security system, but there’s an issue. The button she pressed is also a kill switch for the whole system. I have to hack and replace the code before it’s all locked down and deleted.”

“I’ll let you work.” The security system was silent. There were no sirens or alarms or lights.

“There are two security doors ahead of you. Hurry. security protocols are locking down areas as fast as I can open them.”

Zihang opened the door and kept running. 

“Take the Elevator. It’s easier. I’ll let the other doors lock. Basement level.” Zihang pressed the down button and waited. The door opened and he stepped in. As the doors were closing a loud bang shook the building!

“EVA!” 

“Working!” The elevator was lowering down into the basement slowly but then it suddenly dropped! Zihang leaped up and hung onto the ceiling of the elevator. It slammed into the bottom of the shaft and he was flung from his grip and hit the ground hard.

“Zihang! Status!” Schneider’s voice came over the phone that was still in his hand.

Zihang felt blood pouring down his arm. “Injury minor. Moving forward.” He looked up through the hole torn in the ceiling of the elevator. The glow of fire lit up the space. The building exploded. The nurse... He shook his head but the guilt lingered. It was the second time he’d accidently killed someone on this mission.

“Zihang, you’re trapped in the building. Building condition critical!” EVA was shouting urgently but Zihang was only half listening. The basement was nothing but a tremendous space, as big as a parking garage. A shadow in the shape of a man was standing there, his eyes glowed red and gold in the dark. He moved forward, dragging heavy chains attached to his arms and ankles.

“Brother?” The voice was soft, hopeful.

Zihang quickly spoke the dark and sacred words of Royal Fire and the chains started to glow red and melt away, freeing him. “Are you Tigre? We need to-”

A loud explosion drowned out his voice. The plume of hot air and debris boiled out towards him and he was suddenly dragged to the ground by a powerful body. Zihang and the prisoner hid behind a pillar but he could already feel his skin burning! The prisoner kept down here suddenly pushed him down as the pillar they were sheltering behind cracked in half and slammed to the ground. It was the only this that saved them when the ceiling caved in. Pain screamed through Zihang’s body and he blacked out.