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arvandus · 3 days ago

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The Beauty of Broken Things

Barbatos x GN!Reader

Content warnings: SFW; reader with (vague) mental health issues; Reader has self-deprecating thoughts and low self-esteem; hurt/comfort; lots of dialogue; romance; first kiss (cuz I'm a sap 💚)

Author's Note: Not me coming out of hiatus to drop this at 1:20am on a weekday. ANYWAY.... I was going through it a month or so ago and this was very therapeutic and self-indulgent to write. Hopefully you'll find some comfort in it as well. 💚

You creep into the RAD greenhouse under the cover of the Devildom darkness. The warm yellow lights, usually on to allow students to observe and take notes, are turned off for the evening, causing the devildom flora to transform from something familiar to something alien, branches reaching like arms and long, pointed leaves stretched out like grasping fingers.

But despite the sinister threat of danger that is interlaced in the native plant life, it still feels comforting. The gnarled limbs and black leaves feel more protective than threatening, arching over your head to provide a canopy of privacy in the quiet, uninhabited space.

Usually the greenhouse is a bustle of student activity, with botany classes often perusing the aisles with their notebooks and art students lingering with their sketchbooks. But classes had long since ended, the busy chaos of academia ushered away by the sinking of the large Devildom moon, bringing with it night within night.

You need this. You need the silence, the privacy, the darkness. The House of Lamentation doesn’t offer it. The Demon Lord’s castle is also not an option as you don’t want to impose purely for the sake of self-isolation.

No, this is perfect. It is safe, safer than losing yourself in the real forests that press against the outskirts of the Devildom. It is a place for hiding, a place for becoming invisible. It is a place that makes you feel small, from the tightly clustered plants around you to the vast starry sky that slowly rotates high beyond the confines of the glass ceiling. You could almost pretend you’re a bug, an insect, or some other small life form who’s only purpose is to exist in the here and now, moment to moment.

Maybe then you could find peace in your mind; maybe that voice of sickness and lies that whispered louder than any demon would fall silent.

Not all days were this bad. But the added stress, the fatigue.... you knew it was only a matter of time before you found yourself dangerously close to that pitch black rock bottom. You felt it encroaching, a shadow teasing the edges of your mind, and you knew... you knew you had to find somewhere to gather yourself, to work through it without interruption or curious eyes.

This helps. A place of quiet, of privacy, of nature, even if the nature isn’t your own. In its own alien way, it’s perfect.

Perfect, but also lonely. You both love and hate it, glad to be unnoticed for once but vulnerable against the rare isolation. Rare, but not unfamiliar. You sit with it; let it soak into your bones. Like putting on old shoes that still fit, worn soles perfectly conformed to your feet, your mind eases into accepting that familiar ache, a feeling not often experienced anymore, but still deeply rooted in old memories and dreams. The old loneliness hollows you out, slows the blood rushing through your veins as your mind eventually quiets to a low hum of white noise. It brings its own twisted kind of peace; not the healthy kind that heals and rejuvenates, but the broken kind that separates you from yourself, an act of cutting rather than mending.

If you could turn to stone in this moment, you would.

But not even this will last forever, your quiet reverie interrupted by the sound of the door to the greenhouse opening and closing. The sound of the click and the creak of the hinge is startling against the endless quiet, and it makes you jolt. You fight the irrational urge to hide within the surrounding shrubbery, as if such an act would truly hide you at all, and instead curl in on yourself with arms and legs crossed on the stone bench where you sit.

Whoever it is, is as silent as a ghost; you hear no footsteps, nor sounds of breath. Whoever it is does not speak, so you know instantly it is not any of the brothers or even Diavolo. But you feel their presence, and you know they feel yours. There is an awareness in the air that wasn’t present before, the atmosphere going from one of empty quiet, to buzzing consciousness.

A moment later, a familiar pair of polished black shoes come into your field of view, attached to a familiar set of legs that stand formally in a way that only a royal butler could accomplish.

You look up and your eyes meet Barbatos, who stares down at you with a calm, curious expression and a slight tilt of his head. He’s still dressed in his RAD uniform, but his white gloves are removed, likely tucked into the interior chest pocket of his tailcoat.

“MC,” he says gently. “I did not expect you to be here. You do know that the RAD campus is closed, yes?”

“I know,” you reply.

Even so, you make no motion to move, your body still curled within itself protectively. It isn’t so much to protect against him, but to hold onto that feeling of smallness that helps to separate you from the ache in your chest and the cacophony of your mind.

“Why are you here?” you ask.

“Some of the flora require care after school hours, so I tend to them prior to locking up for the evening.”

“Ah.” Your sour mood strips you of your warmth, your words fading away as you retreat back into yourself.

Barbatos stares at you for a moment longer, before gesturing to the bench. “May I?”

You return his stare with your own before moving over just enough to make room for him. The bench is small, comfortable for one, a slight squeeze for two, but he sits nonetheless, seemingly unbothered. The proximity of him is a brand and a blessing, the heat of him surprisingly comforting while your heart thuds harder in your chest. You’re rarely ever this close to him, any prior instances of physical contact occurring out of necessity rather than choice.

You both sit in silence for a long time. You aren’t sure if he is expecting an explanation from you, but you couldn’t give one even if you wanted to, the struggles within yourself too tangled to fully unravel, especially with how weathered you feel.

Finally, after a few minutes, he is the one to break the silence, the smooth richness of his voice breaking the quiet that sits like a bridge between you.

“I often find the Devildom flora more beautiful in the dark.”

It is an olive branch, and you take it, a small smile curling the corners of your lips.

“Me too,” you reply. “It feels more natural this way. When the lights are on, it feels like we’re trying to force the plants and flowers to be something they’re not.”

Barbatos stares at you for a long, quiet moment before returning his gaze ahead of him. “Indeed. Things are more beautiful when they are allowed to be themselves.”

A sentiment you share, and yet it isn’t one you can extend to yourself, and it cuts you.

“I wish that were always true...” you mutter.

It’s a thought whispered past private lips, and you regret them instantly when his keen, green eyes, nearly black in the darkness, flick back to you.

“Why would it not be?” he asks.

You shift uncomfortably and swallow the lump that suddenly manifests where your voice is supposed to be.

“I don’t know...” you finally mutter evasively.

You feel his eyes lingering on you, and it feels as if he can read the dark thoughts that live there, shadow where sunlight should be. But if he can read your mind, he doesn’t say so, and he doesn’t pry further.

Instead, Barbatos does something that you do not expect. His hand covers yours, untangling your fingers from your tightly clasped palms that sit in your lap. His touch is warm, warmer than you thought it’d be, and you can’t help but wonder how different his body really is from yours when it feels so human.

You watch as Barbatos twines his fingers with yours, a simple but shockingly intimate action. It’s surprisingly comforting, fulfilling a longing within you that you didn’t even realize you carried so heavily until just now; an anchor of companionship, unwavering in its simplicity, gentle in its unassuming nature. There’s a lack of expectation in Barbatos’s touch, a quiet acceptance of the here and now, of the you of this moment, rather than the ‘you’ that you always present to others, or the ‘you’ that others expect of you.

It makes something within you surrender. It forces the dissociation from your mind, pulling you instantly back into reality, into your body. Barbatos’s tenderness, given freely without price, carves a space for itself within your chest, and it hurts, the sudden sharpness of vulnerability an open wound. That vulnerability is unfamiliar, raw, terrifying. It calls forth your fears, makes the voices of wrongness sing louder than ever, listing all of the ways you are undeserving of this moment. And you’re angry, angry at their presence, and their ability to ruin even this for you, to taint something peaceful and beautiful with something so ugly.

The tears finally come, blurring your vision and spilling over silently onto your cheeks. More come immediately after, and you sniff, your nose starting to run as you wipe at your face. A handkerchief appears within your view, and you take it, your heart too shy and embarrassed to look at Barbatos properly or even offer him a mumbled thank you. But he shows no discomfort or disdain for your tears or lack of manners. Instead, he sits quietly with you, waiting patiently as he holds your hand securely within his own, his thumb rubbing soothing strokes on the soft skin between your thumb and index finger.

Quietly you cry, and quietly he waits. Each second longer that you cry is a confession of your imperfection, your brokenness, and each second longer that Barbatos stays by your side is an acceptance, a forgiveness. And so, without even speaking to one another, the very act of this shared moment provides a cleansing of your heart that you’d never felt before. Each drop of salty water is a purge, a release. There’s an amusing irony to it; an exorcism of sorts in a place where God isn’t welcome, supported by a creature who’s existence came from darkness.

The catharsis brings release, and the release brings fatigue. The rigidness of your spine gives way to something more pliable, and you lean your head against his shoulder as you continue to weep, albeit gentler now that the worst of it has passed. Barbatos lets you, his thumb barely missing a beat in its strokes against your hand. He makes no effort to increase his physical reassurance; no arm around your shoulder, no leaning of his head against the crown of yours. You’re grateful for it, not quite ready to be touched so completely. Maybe soon... after all, the thought does entice you... but not yet. Not when your heart is still raw and tender.

No, this is perfect. It’s just enough.

Finally, the floodwaters of your heart recede, and you wipe away the last traces of wetness from your cheeks with his silk handkerchief. It’s damp with tears and snot now, and you know you’ll have to wash it before returning it to him. You fiddle with it with your free hand, your thumb tracing along the cursive B that is sewn into its corner with dark thread, the color muted to black in the dark.

Your hands are still intertwined with each other, your head still resting against his shoulder, and you’re grateful for it as you find the courage to finally speak, your eyes still trained on that cursive B.

Your voice is quiet, hushed by hesitancy. “Barbatos...I have a question...”

“Hm?”

“When I die, and my soul leaves my body.... does.... does that mean that the mental illness won’t be there anymore? Does that part get left behind?”

“Ah,” Barbatos says softly, his voice rich with understanding. “I see.”

You sit up, although his hand still holds yours; after all, you haven’t pulled away yet. But your eyes... your eyes are downcast, the shame of your breakdown too heavy regardless of Barbatos’s tenderness.

Now that you’ve finally confessed your fear it becomes easier to speak, and the words come more freely. “I’m just... I’m tired of being this way. Feeling this way, thinking this way. It’s always there, like this big, lurking monster that I can’t escape from. Except it’s a part of me. I don’t know who I am without it. And I’m—” tears choke your words, but you force yourself to continue even as your eyes once again brim and sting. “I’m just so afraid that it’ll never go away. Even when I die, and my soul is separated from this broken fucking body—”

A long, slender finger covers your lips, halting your impending tirade of self-loathing. It forces you to finally look at him, and you’re surprised to see how deep the concern goes within his dark gaze.

“Shh,” he says. “Don’t say such things. It does the richness of all that you are a disservice.”

His words stun you into silence, and you stare at him wide-eyed. He holds your gaze for a moment longer before taking the handkerchief from your clenched fist. You start to protest, embarrassed at the state of it, but he ignores your concerns and uses a relatively clean spot to wipe away your new tears.

You fall silent as he cares for you, and in that silence, he begins to speak.

“You humans so often like to label and categorize things, an attempt at making sense of the world around you when you’re forever doomed to know so little. Lines of comparison drawn on a beach, not realizing that in the end, it’s all made of sand.”

You frown. “I don’t understand.”

“What you’re speaking of is a sickness of the mind, correct?”

“Yes, that’s one way to put it...”

Barbatos takes your palm in his hand and turns it face up. “I’ve heard you humans often use the term ‘mind, body, and soul’ as if they are all separate. Back when I spent time in the human realm, humans treated the soul as synonymous with the heart and the mind as synonymous with the brain, both housed within the body.” With his finger, he draws one large circle, and within it, places two dots vertically spaced from each other.

You stare at your palm as you ponder his words. “Yes,” you say, “that idea still lingers... sort of...”

You take his hand in yours, and draw your own circles – a small, a medium, and a large, all inset within each other like a target.

“I think... I see the soul and mind as synonymous of each other, in way, that they depend on each other. Or...”

You hesitate, your fears surfacing again as you stare at Barbatos’s open palm.

“I think...” you continue slowly, “I think I’m afraid that they’re the same thing. That the soul only exists because of the mind. If that’s true, then if my mind is broken, then so is my soul, and I’ll be carrying that brokenness with me forever. It’s like... trying to forge something using a metal riddled with impurities. The integrity will always be compromised, no matter how beautiful the shape in the end.”

Barbatos’s open hand closes around yours, cradling your fingertips that still rest against his skin. He turns your hand over palm up again.

“Imagine this” – he draws a large circle – “is your body. And this” – he draws a smaller circle within it – “is your mind.”

You wait for the third circle, but it never comes. You frown.

“Where is the soul?”

“Everywhere,” he says.

Your gaze lifts from your open hand to his eyes. He smiles back at you in quiet mirth, then drops his gaze back to your hand. His fingers retrace over the larger circle he’d first drawn into your palm.

“Your soul,” he repeats, “is everywhere.”

Confusion once again surfaces in the contours of your face. Barbatos stares at you for a moment as he searches for the words in a way that you can understand. His eyes sink deep beneath the surface of you, and it makes you shift beneath his gaze. After a moment he blinks, his amusement returning.

“Perhaps it is my choice of words that is unclear,” he says. “Allow me to try again.”

He pokes your forehead with his index finger. “Your mind is not the same as your soul the way you fear. It is simply consciousness, self-awareness provided you by your biology,” he explains.

“You mean my brain.”

“Yes.”

“So my mind is just another part of my body.”

“Precisely. Your body is merely the medium through which you experience this life, whether it’s through your senses, such as sight and touch, or through your consciousness.”

He returns to your hand, his fingers tracing the invisible large circle for a third time.

“Your soul, on the other hand, is a different thing entirely. It isn’t something that can be contained to one organ within you. Not your heart, not your brain. It’s deeper than that, richer,” he says quietly, as if sharing a secret.

His touch travels, his fingertips gliding feather-light across your palm, up your wrist, following the tendons and veins to your forearm where goosebumps begin to awaken across your sensitive skin.

“It’s energy. It’s life,” he continues. “It’s eternal, and it’s woven into every fiber of your being, a golden thread holding you together like the universe’s most exquisite tapestry.”

Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers curve around your forearm until he holds it within his hand, his thumb rubbing gently against the soft skin where your veins rest beneath. His words enrapture you, his touch enthralls you. If there was ever a moment in your life you could stay trapped in forever, it would be this one.

But the moment is short-lived. Barbatos’s soothing touch halts mid-motion, his expression turning blank, as if he suddenly remembers himself and realizes the growing intimacy of the exchange. He withdraws his hand, and it leaves a cold emptiness where his warmth had been.

You ponder his words, but it only leads to more questions.

“My soul is everywhere...” you mutter. “But Barbatos... if it’s woven into my body, then how...?”

“How does your soul pass on after you die?”

You nod.

Barbatos holds his chin in his fingers thoughtfully. “You are thinking too literally. Perhaps it is my own failure to find the right words. Human speech doesn’t offer enough nuance to fully describe something your kind still struggles to understand.”

He ponders a moment longer, his brow knit together in concentration. Finally his head lifts and his gaze meets yours. “Ah. Perhaps we can describe it as such. Your body is made of matter, correct? And if you look deep enough, you know that all matter is made up of atoms. But not even atoms ever completely touch.” He takes your hand in one of his and holds it up, your palm facing him, as he brings his other hand within a hair’s breadth; close enough to feel the heat emanating off of him, but not actually touching. “There’s a negative space, ever present yet so infinitesimal that you’d never know it’s there.” His hand finally touches yours, his fingers aligned with yours as he splays them out. “It is this space that your soul exists, interwoven, encapsulating every atom of what you are.”

You’re staring at your touching hands, wide-eyed now, as you take in what he’s told you. The scope of it feels nearly too vast to properly comprehend, despite how hard you try.

“It’s all very... complicated...” you mutter as you finally lower your hand back to your lap.

“Hm, is it?” Barbatos replies with a curious tilt of his head. “Here then, another example, but simpler. If you were to lose a limb, would it damage your soul?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re separate.”

And finally, it clicks for you.

Barbatos smiles. “Precisely. So, if a lost limb will not damage your soul, then why should a damaged mind?”

The weightlessness of relief begins to spread from the center of your chest, and you release a long, deep breath.

“I see,” you say. “So when I die...”

“When you die, your soul continues on, transformed, as your body decays.”

The balloon of relief breaks and you do a doubletake. “...transformed?”

Barbatos nods. “Yes, by your experiences and choices in this life.”

Once again that despair rears, the dark void opening beneath your feet as you cling to your dwindling hope. You once again wrap your arms around yourself protectively, as if you are the only one who can keep yourself from falling, despite the presence of the demon directly in front of you.

“But... Barbatos,” you protest, “sometimes mental illnesses can cause people to make bad choices. Wrong choices. Hurtful choices. If those can impact the soul, then wouldn’t that mean the soul does get damaged? Or tainted?”

Barbatos falls silent for a long moment, and you avoid looking into his eyes, your gaze downcast. His hand reaches out and covers your forearm reassuringly, but your arms remain crossed.

“As a demon, I cannot attest to how just the Celestial Realm’s rules are. I, for one, find them to be rather suffocating and arbitrary, lacking in nuance. But even I would be shocked if such things weren’t taken into consideration when it is time for a soul to be set upon the scales of judgment.”

Scales of judgment... the idea makes you nauseous.

Barbatos’s touch to your forearm is replaced by both of his hands on your arms just below the shoulders. You can tell from the way he moves that he is ducking his head lower in an attempt to catch your avoiding eyes, but you keep yourself hidden lest your tears return.

“MC....” he says softly, “are you worried that you will be judged unfairly when your time comes?”

It takes a moment for you to find your voice, and when you do it’s thicker, heavy under the weight of emotions. “Maybe... or maybe I’m worried I’ll be judged fairly.”

“If you do not go to heaven when your time comes, then the Celestial Realm truly is run by fools.”

His words surprise you, and you finally catch his gaze, amusement beneath a raised, sarcastic brow. Your skin grows hot and you avert your eyes for a different reason, your shoulders lifting slightly in subtle retreat.

“Well,” you continue, “you said yourself that the soul gets transformed during this life. I’ve made some not-so-great choices, so far. I’ve done things I regret; hurt people I’ve loved and even people I didn’t. What if my soul is not as good as I hope?”

Barbatos gives a soft scoff of amusement, his brows pinching up in the center as he stares at you in wry amusement. “My dear, the very idea that your soul is anything but good is quite literally an impossibility.”

Your tension loosens slightly. “How do you know?”

The corner of one side of his mouth quirks up slightly. “Well, to start, I am a demon. And as one of the oldest demons, I have devoured countless souls across my lifetime. If anyone is to be an expert on the quality of a soul it would be me.”

Something about the way he talks so simply about his violence, combined with his intimate kindness, makes you feel lightheaded.

It takes an extra heartbeat for you to find enough air in your lungs to speak. “And, uh...what does a demon such as yourself consider high quality?”

Barbatos stares distantly, and for a moment he feels ancient. When he speaks, his voice seems almost otherworldly, holding a resonance to it that wasn’t there before. “It varies from demon to demon. Some enjoy the flavor of corruption upon a soul, some prefer the sweet, crisp freshness of innocence and purity... but all human souls possess something that ours lack, something that makes us crave. We’re drawn to it, in the way your human realm plants are drawn to sunlight.” He pauses and shakes his head. “No, perhaps that analogy is too mild. It is more how the Devildom’s Succubus’s Kiss lures its victims into its choking vines with the sweet promise of fruit.”

You swallow for a moment, your throat suddenly dry as you stare at your now empty palms where your longing for him sits abandoned.

“You make it sound as if humans are the dangerous ones,” you chide.

A half-hearted attempt at a joke, but Barbatos chuckles nonetheless.

“Yes; perhaps you are.”

You can’t tell in this moment if he’s referring to ‘you’ as in humanity, or ‘you’ as in something far more personal. It only makes the curiosity sharper, honed on the whetstone of your pining.

“And my soul...” you continue, “what do you sense, Barbatos?”

Dread immediately follows your bold and vulnerable question, fearing what he must inevitably see in you. Is Barbatos the type to enjoy the flavor of corruption, to find value in broken things? Or is he more of a purist, always a keen eye for perfection? You fear you already know the answer as you take in his crisp RAD uniform, his perfectly smooth features. Your gaze falls downward, an attempt to hide what you’re sure he already knows.

One heartbeat, two. Then your chin is being tilted up by his thumb and forefinger until your eyes are forced to meet his. There’s a hint of luminescence in them, the green noticeable now where it wasn’t before, pushing against the dark monotone of night that previously washed his irises in near-black. His eyes are searching, seeking, finding, and you can feel the magic, the power that unravels every defense, every barrier. Finally, his gaze settles, the green quiets to a deep, sleeping forest of pine in winter. It’s peaceful; soothing.

If Barbatos’s earlier release of your arm was to provide distance from the growing intimacy between you, then the attempt was in vain. Because now the affection in his gaze is unmistakable, the deep shadowy green cradling you the way his fingers cradle your chin. It weakens you, makes you feel like putty in his touch.

“You glow,” Barbatos whispers, “like sunlight trapped in ripples. It’s blinding, and yet so beautiful I find it impossible to look away. I can feel it in you, emanating like heat from a hearth, and it makes me long for a home I’ve never had.”

The hum of his voice makes you shiver, goosebumps forming across your skin. The adoration in his eyes falters briefly, the lingering green fading to black, giving way to a dark, ancient sorrow.

“I think,” he continues, “it’s a glimpse of what heaven must feel like. A small piece of divinity passed down to you from your ancestor.”

His fingers release your chin, but the vulnerability remains, if not slightly muted due to the distance imposed by the lack of physical contact.

“I am different from Lucifer and his brothers in that I was never an angel. I came into existence exactly as I am, and as such I’ve never known divinity. And yet... despite never knowing it, there is still a strange... hunger for it. It is a peculiar thing to miss something you’ve never known.”

“You... long for Heaven?” you ask him.

Barbatos tilts his head thoughtfully, his gaze absent somewhere past your shoulder. “Not so much Heaven the place. It’s more so the purity, the grace, to feel that sense of wholeness that the divine offers. It’s why we are drawn to human souls. Angels, you see, are far too potent. Too much divinity hurts a demon; it can even kill them. But you... you humans have just enough of both worlds within you to allow us a taste. It can be rather addictive, especially for younger demons who have not yet had enough millennia to control their hunger.”

His pupils dilate in the dark as he refocuses his gaze. His eyes meet yours and linger for a moment before slowly drawing down to your parted lips. “You are a rare case indeed. More potent in your divinity than the average human, but not enough to hurt.”

You quirk a smile at him. “Barbatos, are you saying I’m irresistible?”

It is a joke, one you feel comfortable making because of its ridiculousness. But then he gives you a smile you’ve never seen before that makes your stomach drop and your body awash with heat. There’s a directness in it, a challenge presented in a wry upward turn of the lips and the glint of teeth in the faint starlight.

“Perhaps,” he says.

You try to brush him off with a scoff and break eye contact, feigning interest in the shape of the black leaves that arch over the both of you in the darkness.

“Now you’re just teasing me,” you mutter.

“Oh? You don’t believe me,” he comments. “Perhaps there is more I can do to convince you then.”

Your heartbeat falters, tripped by hope, and you keep your eyes above and around lest you combust right in front of him.

“Convince me?” you question.

You’re attempting to feign indifference, to protect yourself from the inevitable rejection you know is coming, because surely he’s not... he doesn’t mean.... he wouldn’t... that look in his eyes earlier... affection yes, but that can mean anything...

Barbatos takes your chin in his fingers and pulls gently until you have nowhere else to look but directly at him. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, into him. There’s a flicker there, a glow of swirling green, like nebulae trapped within his vastness.

“Indeed,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath upon your parted lips. You realize he’s closer than you anticipated, closer than ever before.

Your lightheadedness is returning, and your genuinely afraid you’ll faint, so you force yourself to keep speaking.

“What kind of convincing?” you ask.

He smiles that smile again, the one that turns your insides molten. “The kind that doesn’t require words, since you seem to doubt them so fervently.”

His thumb draws gently across your lower lip, his half-lidded gaze transfixed. “Would you like to be convinced?” he mutters.

You swallow and answer honestly.

“Yes.”

Barbatos’s eyes return to yours and his lips curl into a soft, genuine smile. He closes what’s left of the distance, his warm lips capturing yours as his fingers release your chin in favor of gently cupping your jawline.

You close your eyes and reciprocate, your hand resting against his chest.

It’s gentle, soft, and for all of his heavy flirting just a moment ago, it is as unassuming as when he’d first held your hand. It washes away the last dredges of worry, calms the ever-present unease that always lingers. The clouds of your mind finally part, even if just for this moment, and for the first time in a long while, you feel feather-light as a peaceful warmth spreads from head to toe to the tips of your fingers.

When your lips part, Barbatos keeps his hand on your cheek and plants a gentle peck to your forehead.

“Now, believe me when I say you are beautiful. Believe me when I say that you are good. And most importantly, believe me when I say that I am always here for you.”

Your choked by emotion, your eyes once again burning, but this time for a different reason entirely.

“Even when I’m being sad and pathetic?” you ask, your voice cracking slightly.

Barbatos puts his forehead against yours as his lips curve into a tender smile.

“Especially then.”

#om barbatos #obey me barbatos #obey me #obey me fanfiction #barbatos fanfiction #barbatos x mc #barbatos x reader #tw: mental health

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magics-neptunes-things · 1 day ago

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Mockingjay - Part 10

Hello :)

Once again sorry for the delay, but here is the next chapter for Mockingjay!

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Death or mention of death, blood, injury, suggestive, fight

Chapter before

After their mutual declaration and several (a lot of) kisses exchanged, Lucy finally falls asleep, exhausted by her fight and her injuries. Ona didn’t ask Lucy what happened exactly during the fight, she keeps her questions for later.

Ona was awake all night, looking at Lucy. Just in case she wakes up with pain or something bad happens. But Lucy’s sleep seems peaceful, she only winces from time to time, while changing position. We must say that maybe the ground of a cave isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world.

Being in that position is strange for Ona, she’s not used to being the strong one. It’s usually Lucy who took care of her during their moments together, not the other way. She likes the idea of Lucy being at ease enough with her for it, but of course Ona hates the fact that Lucy is hurt.

They never heard the cannon, so Ona assumed that Tony must be alive somewhere. He doesn’t seem to have any allies, unless they’re all dead already. But the weapon he had was probably from a sponsor. Ona doesn’t know if she will receive more things after the attack she did against her compatriot.

But she stands her ground. Between Lucy and Tony, there she has not a single hesitation.

While Lucy sleeps, Ona lights the fire again and puts some wet tissues on Lucy’s forehead to ease her fever. It seems to work; Lucy’s forehead seems less hot with time.

Ona makes herself more arrows too, she used almost all of them during their fight with Tony. She wonders briefly where the man is, before deciding that she doesn’t care. He might be Joan’s friend; she still has to fight for herself. And the girl she’s in love with.

Talking about Lucy, the girls finally stir for good, but groan in pain while turning on her back. Her face is clenched and Ona hurries to come closer to her.

“Where are you hurt?” she asks softly, removing some hair from her face.

“My head”

“Your head? You didn’t say anything about your head yesterday!”

Ona tries to make Lucy move a little to see which part of her head is hurting. The latter tries to fight against Ona at first, but it was before seeing how determined Ona was. Lucy sighs softly, finally turning on her side.

“Lucy what the fuck”

Lucy doesn’t answer anything and it’s maybe better like this. Ona is mixed between worry and anger against Lucy. There is a wound here too, one that Ona didn’t clean yesterday because Lucy didn’t say anything.

“You couldn’t have done anything anyway” Lucy finally mumbles.

“I still could have cleaned it” Ona answer, her gaze burning.

Lucy chooses widely not to answer anything and crosses her arms when Ona starts to look at the injury. It seems less important than the one on her stomach, but still less superficial than the ones she has on her arms.

Ona cleans Lucy’s head, wondering how she missed the dry blood in Lucy’s hair, before making the girl roll on her back to clean the injury on her stomach.

“How did he manage to attack you by the way?”

Lucy raises her eyes on Ona’s face. The brunette isn’t looking at her, concentrating on her work in Lucy’s body. Lucy sighs softly before answering.

“He took me by surprise. I was looking for food when he jumped on me from behind. He hit me with his weapon. I didn’t hear him coming. He smashed me on my head and from then it was hard to fight back.”

Ona nods softly, wondering if the noises she heard while she was alone in the forest was actually Tony. She hasn’t mentioned it to Lucy until now.

“I think I heard footsteps when I was waiting for you. At that point I was thinking it was you, but when I turned around there was no one. I wonder if it was him.”

“Maybe” Lucy answers after several seconds of thinking. “If it’s him, it means that he chose not to kill you.”

“Yeah…” Ona says slowly. “Or that I could have save you earlier”

Ona was finished with Lucy’s tape since several minutes, so Lucy takes her by her arm to take her closer.

“Don’t reflect like this. You saved me. If you came earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have been able to shoot him like you did. Great aim, by the way.”

Ona rolls her eyes and smiles, snuggling against Lucy as much as she can while being careful not to hurt her more. She smiles when she feels Lucy sighing from well-being, softly kissing her jaw.

“All of those trainings’ session are finally paying off. Looks like training his force wasn’t as useful as he thought.”

“Looks like listening to your mentor was a great idea” Lucy teases.

“It was. It’s because of her advice that I’m still alive”

“I’m glad Alexia Putellas is a genius then.”

Ona hums, stroking Lucy’s neck with her nose. She doesn’t know how much time they will have for themselves, she’s decided to enjoy it as much as she can. She loves Lucy’s scent and how hot and soft her skin is here.

“You know that he’s in love with you right? Tony?”

“I don’t care” Ona answers, kissing Lucy’s neck between her two sentences. “I’m in love with someone else.”

Lucy smiles at this, grabbing softly Ona’s chin between one of her hands.

“Look at you, you little flirt” she says with a smile, before taking Ona’s face against her to kiss her.

Ona smiles against Lucy’s lips, deepening the kiss quickly. Lucy lets her access to her mouth and Ona kind of forgets where they are. All she can think of is Lucy, Lucy’s hand, Lucy’s skin against her, Lucy’s touch. She still remembers not to hurt her, but when Lucy gently tilts them so that Ona is on her back, Ona can’t help but break the kiss.

“Your stomach…” Ona begins.

But Lucy smiles again, putting a finger on her lips.

“I’m fine” she whispers.

She looks in Ona’s eyes again before leaning in for another kiss. After two seconds of hesitation, Ona kisses her back, passing her arms around her neck. Ona is pretty sure that she could kiss Lucy all day long without being used to it. Or tired.

She shivers when Lucy’s fingers slide under the tissues of her clothes, stroking her skin with her fingertips. The sensations are even better than what she remembered or imagined, but when Lucy starts to suck her neck, she feels heat waves in her body and especially between her legs. Under the pleasure, Ona’s fingers (who were under Lucy’s clothes too) sink into the skin of Lucy’s back.

Lucy is very respectful about what Ona told her while still in the Capitol. Ona is sure that Lucy remembers that she never has been intimate with someone else like this. When Lucy is satisfied with her work on Ona’s neck, she kisses the skin lovingly here.

But Lucy seems to come back to reality for real when Ona tries to remove Lucy’s shirt.

“Ona, we don’t have to – “

“No. I want it”

Lucy hesitates for several seconds, looking deep in Ona’s eyes. But Ona only smiles at her, letting her hands run on her back and on her hips.

“I’m sure” she adds, seeing hesitation in Lucy’s eyes.

“Just… Tell me when you want to stop, please”

“I will.”

Ona wanted to answer that she won’t have to say it, because she was certain of what she wants. But she doesn’t have time, Lucy leaning another time for another kiss. Ona doesn’t wait any second to kiss Lucy back. She wants it, she’s sure about it. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they might be dead in several hours, but there isn’t another person in the world she would do it with.

Ona’s clothes are suddenly too much on her skin, but Lucy’s hands manage to smooth her skin with their strokes.

There is no rush between them; they both take their time to discover each other and to remember each other at their fingertips.

And some time later, Ona is pretty sure that she never felt so blissful than now. When she looks up at Lucy who is holding her close against her body, she thinks that Lucy feels the same way.

Lucy feels Ona’s gaze on her because she looks at Ona back, offering her one of her perfect smiles.

“How are you?”

“Pretty great” Lucy smirks at Ona over the fire.

“I was talking about your head” Ona chuckles.

She’s still a little mad at Lucy for having kept that injury away from her. But Lucy shrugs, still adding another branch of wood into the fire. The night is here now, and they had to leave the cave for several hours during the day. It has been their refuge and Lucy is a little scared that the leaders of the Games will try to make them get out of it.

“Can I see it?”

“Will you take no as an answer?” Lucy arches an eyebrow.

“No” Ona smirks.

Lucy rolls her eyes but turns around to let Ona have a look. The younger girl doesn’t wait a second and kneels behind Lucy, gently looking at Lucy’s wound. She hums when she sees it. It doesn’t look very good, but it seems to heal as best as possible.

“It looks okay” Ona whispers. “Are you still in pain? Honestly.”

“It’s okay. Pounding sometimes but I will survive.”

Ona bites her bottom lip, preferring not to remember that they are in a Game fighting for their life. She stays silent and Lucy doesn’t seem to catch what she is thinking about. She starts to talk anyway, taking Ona’s mind away from there.

“We need a plan now. To know how to fight against the others.”

“What do you have in mind?” Ona asks, going to sit in front of the other girl.

“First, we have Camden and Kayla. Camden is hardly injured, but Kayla doesn’t have any injury as long as I’m aware. It would be a hard fight if we were crossing their path. The best thing would be to have them separated. They were near the starting point until now, but they might have changed now.”

Ona nods. It would make sense; Lucy is now with her, and she knows where they were staying. Plus, one of them is hurt and they would probably want to hide him as long as possible.

“Then we have Tony. You hurt him pretty badly.”

Ona nods once again. She doesn’t know if it’s pretty bad, but he wasn’t able to stand up for several minutes at least. It’s still something.

“How would you feel about fighting against him again?” Lucy asks. “I know he’s a friend of your brother but…”

“I’ll do it as many times as I need if it means you will be safe” Ona doesn’t hesitate to answer.

There is a moment of silence, during which they share a look. Ona is determined and very certain of what she just said. She would give her life for Lucy, so she doesn’t mind a single second fighting against her district’s partner.

Lucy, on the other hand, gives the impression to Ona that she’s looking for something special in her eyes. But Ona let her look, not having anything to hide from her. After a moment, Lucy finally talks again.

“And then the two girls. We don’t know if they are together, but we can guess they are.”

“Haven’t you seen them at one point?”

Lucy shakes her head to answer no.

“They might be hidden somewhere. They haven’t killed anyone for now.”

“Could they be in the desert? That’s what we wanted to do with Teagan, we were almost sure that no one will come for us there”

“Maybe…” Lucy answers slowly, looking by the entrance of the cave. “I know there is an oasis somewhere, if they found it it’s probably the safest place in the arena.”

“How do you know that?” Ona frowns.

“I went to it at the beginning”

Lucy shrugs and Ona frowns. Lucy asked her a lot of questions about her adventure until they met again, but Ona sometimes feels like she doesn’t want to talk about hers. Which is a little strange in Ona’s eyes.

Ona stands, pretending to be looking for something in their bags. She doesn’t like that feeling in the bottom of her stomach. And it has nothing to do with the kick she received during her fight.

“You never told me”

Lucy shrugs one more time before answering, still sitting on the ground.

“I went with Declan. We just wanted to see what was there.”

Ona hums only, her back turned to Lucy. The brunette catches easily that something is disturbing Ona, only by the other girl’s behavior. Ona usually never hides her eyes to her, or even her face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lucy asks.

“Nothing.”

But Lucy knows better. Rather than letting it go and talking about something else, she gets up to press her front against Ona’s back, passing her arms around Ona’s waist. Her chin is on Ona’s shoulder when she talks again.

“Ona, what’s wrong?”

Ona sighs softly. She knows she’s probably stupid about her reaction and she’s a little bit ashamed, to be honest. But Lucy is waiting patiently for her answer, and she finally opens her mouth again.

“It’s just… Sometimes I feel like you are hiding something from me. I don’t like it.”

She knows she’s right when Lucy bites her bottom lip before answering. Ona turns her head as good as she can given their position, looking for Lucy’s green eyes. When Lucy stays silent, Ona talks again, whispering this time.

“What happened?”

Lucy sighs at her turn, letting Ona go. The younger girl doesn’t like the way her body suddenly seems very cold without Lucy’s embrace. She squeezes her arms around her body, looking at Lucy.

“It’s just that I have to do some things. And I’m scared that if you know them it will change how you see me.”

Ona tilts her head, searching for Lucy’s eyes. Lucy seems so tense that it scared her. Suddenly she’s not a tribute at the Hunger Games, she’s just a girl waiting for the love of her life to admit what fault she did when they weren’t together.

“Like I told you, I had to do things and play a role at the beginning. I needed people to think that I just wanted to win and that we weren’t even friends you and me”

Ona nods, waiting more or less patiently about the end of Lucy’s confession.

“To show people that I was really into it, I had to kill. A lot of people. In fact, after killing Seth, I’m the one with the higher number of murders.”

“Oh…” Ona breaths.

She wasn’t expecting this to be honest. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, to be honest. But Lucy is still looking at her feet, not able to look up at Ona. So, the younger girl approaches her, kneeling a little bit to have their eyes at the same level.

“Lucy, it’s okay. You did it for us. You didn’t have the choice”

“I didn’t” she repeats. “If I had… I just needed to be with you again.”

“We are now”

“Yeah”

Ona smiles softly at Lucy, who smiles almost shyly back. She doesn’t like to be seen as weak or something, but the way Ona cups her face to kiss her makes her feel lighter than ever. She still doesn’t understand what she did to find a girl as sweet and kind as Ona.

The morning after, they decided to sort out their things to know what to take with them in their backpack and what to leave in the cave. They let some food they know would be damaged in their bag during the day, for example. Ona is never leaving her hoodie under her jacket, loving the soft feeling against her skin.

They take their weapons of course, the medical kits and the most important things to survive.

“Okay, let’s go” Lucy says, looking at the fire behind them.

Ona is looking at the cave with a little pout. She feels like they won’t come back, and it makes her a little sad. It’s once again a memory of her history with Lucy where she probably won’t be able to come again.

Easily understanding what Ona is feeling, Lucy smiles softly and passes her arm around Ona’s shoulders.

“Come on, Love. It will be okay”

She kisses Ona temple before taking her to go down the mountain again. Ona let her do, blushing softly at Lucy’s surname. It’s the first time she calls her something like that. Of course, she loves it.

They decided to go to the desert, Ona hoping not to cross someone else’s path during this. Or at least someone they can kill easily. They walk silently, just in case. Ona asked Lucy if she saw the wolves too, but the older woman answered negatively. But it seems to her that one of the tributes died because of the wolves. The idea made Ona shivers.

Lucy is walking first; Ona really closes behind her. She has to fight against Lucy to prevent her not from carrying all the heavy things. Ona is really scared that Lucy’s stomach will start bleeding again. She changed Lucy’s bandage before leaving, putting the old one in the fire.

The walk is pretty long, it seems that there is only one bridge to cross the breach. And that it is far away from where they are.

“It’s weird that we haven’t crossed anyone’s path” Ona mumbles at some point.

“Yeah” Lucy answers. “I think they used the fog to make people come closer to each other, I wouldn’t be surprised if they do something similar soon.”

Ona hums. She doesn’t really like the idea. The last time she had time with Teagan to leave, but it wasn’t the case for Lilith. Her death might have been harsh If Ona remembered correctly the screams of pain that she lets go before dying.

When they finally reach the bridge, Ona takes a last look behind her before crossing it, still behind Lucy. As soon as they arrive on the other side, the heath strikes them hard.

“What the fuck” Ona says, instinctively tying her hair.

Lucy smiles when she hears and sees Ona. Then she looks around, trying to remember where she went with Tony.

“I’m pretty sure the Oasis isn’t that way” she says, pointing somewhere right in front of them. “That’s where we went with Declan. Maybe we should go there?”

Ona nods, not having anything to say. She never came here before. The heath and the sand everywhere are very impressive, to be honest. But if they find the oasis, they could have something very interesting to have.

Still walking, Ona looks at Lucy’s neck and the drop of sweat running slowly on her skin. The sun is still high in the sky, which is a good thing because it means they still have a lot of time before the night. But they are still very hot because of the sun too.

“Are you okay?” Ona asks Lucy for the thousand times since they left.

“I am” Lucy answers patiently. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

They walk for some time more, seeing nothing around them other than sand and blue sky, until…

“This is the end of the arena”

Ona raises her head to look where Lucy is pointing. She doesn’t see anything at first, until she finally sees something looking like mini light blue lightning running in front of her eyes.

“We turn around?” Ona proposes.

Lucy bites her lips, thinking for several seconds before answering.

“I don’t know. If we do that, we will lose time and maybe we won’t find the oasis. But at least we know where we are exactly.”

“We were coming from the east to west. We just had to look at the sun to know where to go back” Ona shrugs.

There is a moment of silence, Lucy looking at Ona blankly for some long seconds, before answering.

“You know how to find your way with the sky?”

Lucy’s amazement is easily audible in her voice when she asks that question. But Ona just shrugs before smirking.

“I thought you would be able to do it too, aren’t you the one coming from the best fisherman’s family of Panem?”

Lucy rolls her eyes and smiles.

“I have nothing from the Bronze. And we have a compass and that kind of thing.”

They are walking next to each other now, softly bumping into each other from time to time while talking. There is nothing around them and they would easily see if someone else was here.

But they have to admit at some point that finding the oasis is harder than they thought. The sun is now hiding behind the horizon, gradually plunging them into the night.

“Do you want to take the torch?” Lucy asks Ona.

“I don’t know. Is this not going to draw attention to us?”

Ona looks at Lucy for several seconds before answering, not wanting to scare the girl.

“Are there not scorpions that come out of the sand at night?”

Lucy froze and looks at Ona, her eyebrows softly frowned. It’s something they learned during the survival courses, but to be honest, Lucy completely forgot about it.

“You are right…” Lucy answers slowly, before opening her eyes wide. “Wait, what is on your arm?”

Frowning at turn, Ona looks at her arm. A scorpion. There is a scorpion on her arm.

Next chapter (Coming soon...)

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy and ona #lucy bronze x ona batlle #lucy bronze imagine #woso x hunger games

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iiotic · 3 days ago

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─── જ ‎` ‎𓂃 ‎ ticci toby general headcanons

𖦹 ‎ quick disclaimer: the slendermansion doesn't exist in this universe, did i enjoy reading it some years ago? yes, i loved it and i still enjoy reading it from time to time, but would i want to write about it? naah.

english is not my first language, i apologize for any grammar mistakes.

masterlist | nav.

practically isn't homeless but is? he made himself a little apartment in an abandoned butchers house. he has his mini fridge in there, some mattress, pillows and a blanket left behind so he thought, why not make it his?

collects mugs and cds!! even though most of the time he isn't drinking from the mugs nor listening to music 24/7.

whenever his tics get really bad, he likes to listen to the cds he collects, it calms him down.

cannot drive for the life of him.

knows the forest like the back of his hand, knows every shortcut, every trap, where every lake is, where other creeps might be located; like the rake.

the gash on his cheek is fully healed, but it doesn't really look pleasing to the eye. basically there's still a hole in his cheek but the meat around it is healed and sorta dry? i dont know how to describe that.

because of that when he is in public he wears a bandage over his cheek to not scare the shit out of people. its not like he gets weird stares for his tourettes from intolerant people or pity stares from those empathetic ones already, but there's also his favourite type, the normal i don't give a shit one.

is easily irritated by loud chewing, someone breathing though their mouth or slow walkers.

hear me out, his style is something between midwest emo, grunge and a slight touch of fairy core.

loves tim burton movies! doesn't have a favourite.

tries to get his hygene under control, showers at hotels or in the lake as he doesn't have water in his hut. he really doesn't want to stink like one of his fellow individuals *cough cough* jeff.

cannot stand pure black coffee, thinks its disgusting.

wants to learn how to play the guitar but doesn't know where to start.

visits lyras grave at least every two weeks, he misses her deeply.

touch starved, but feels uncomfortable if anyone who isn't really really ckose to him touches him.

sometimes spends his time with tim and brian (he sees them as a father figures, WHO SAID THAT??)

has friend-hatred relationship with jeff.

canonically was in a relationship with clockwork but shit happened and they broke up. i like to think that they broke up 'couse clockwork came out as lesbian and the chemistry between them wasn't chemistrying, yk?

is closer friend with BEN and ej, no questions asked no questions needed.

is heavily manipulated, brainwashed by the operator to kill people.

he's on team samsung, thinks iphones sucks.

#ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons #toby headcanons #tobias erin rogers #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x y/n #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta headcanons #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby yapping

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anyalasagna · 2 days ago

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I am so deeply DEEPLY obsessed with this episode, Haru knocked it out of the park with these dialogue decisions! While we were discussing the themes I started going off on a tangent about how well-done the visuals are this episode, and they suggested that I do a post about it when the translation released. So here I am!

So! First thing’s first, this absolutely INCREDIBLE shot:

They’re finally drawing the visual connection between Akio’s tower and the dueling forest! There’s been a subtle connection in some of the previous episodes, like in episode 1 where an establishing shot of the dueling forest cuts directly to a shot of Ohtori Tower:

But with this shot they’re shoving that connection in your face: the dueling forest seems to grow out of the tower, and the implication that the dueling forest was an extension of the tower all along (more specifically, Akio’s nasty ass bachelor pad). I love seeing just how early this parallel was seeded into the episodes, and this one marks a turning point in how the audience is supposed to interpret the magical duel symbolism in terms of Akio’s actions in the tower.

2. Next up: Anthy’s been gone, and she left Chuchu behind with Utena. I’ve seen a lot of people analyze Chuchu specifically as a manifestation of Anthy’s suppressed emotions, and that’s really hammered home when Utena asks Anthy where she’s been:

I swear this shot haunts me. Everything about it is so meticulous: the audience is positioned outside the window looking in, separated from the action by both the window and the screen. The inside of the room is warmly lit, and the outside is cast in greenish-grey darkness. Chuchu is on the same side of the action as us, hanging on for dear life. The comedy of the previous shot (him knocking over a cake and falling down) is immediately subverted with the literal heaviness of Chuchu - look at how he’s positioned as the largest object in the foreground, grabbing the windowsill at the exact line of Anthy’s skirt. He’s pulling the entire scene off balance, and this bizarre emphasis layered with Utena’s question shoves Chuchu’s (and therefore Anthy’s) desperate dissociation from the scene in your face.

Meanwhile Anthy and Utena are seemingly positioned in their own separate boxes by their placement in front of the doors: Anthy by the door between their shared room and the outside world, and Utena by the closet doors (psychologize that Freud). The camera keeps this truly insane vantage point for the duration of the scene, as Anthy closes the door and talks to Utena, and Chuchu notably does not move the entire time. Even after it zooms in for close-ups Utena and Anthy don’t move outside the bounds of their little “boxes”! The audience’s screen takes the place of the window! It’s so brilliant I swear I’m going to lose it if I think about it for too long.

3. Moving on! The show cuts to a similar shot of the tower and dueling forest as before (just to beat you over the head with it even more), and the elevator doors open with a ding revealing Anthy and Utena again. You can make it a little game to find all the connections between the elevator and the dueling arena gate (the roses, the elevator button shape, the archway around the doors, etc):

But I want to focus on the elevator motif itself. You might have noticed that I didn’t mention the opening scene of the episode with Mamiya and Mikage (which panned down from the building, through the ground, and into whatever weird chamber they’re in with an elevator swoosh and ding):

That’s because this shot doesn’t get any context until the elevator scene with Anthy and Utena. The ding of the elevator as they arrive at Akio’s place contextualizes this weird room-thing in retrospect, and the opening scene provides a sense of familiarity to this new elevator. There are more visual parallels here: the lighting resembles a shaft in the ground, the red of the tank mimicks the red interior of Akio’s elevator, hell even the water is echoed by the shiny reflectiveness of Akio’s concrete floor. It’s a clever way to create thematic unity between all these different settings, even though the show’s introducing new things at a dizzying pace.

4. The light projector threw me off, I gotta admit. It’s such a bizarre un-projector-like shape - it comes off as figurative at first glance, and Utena even jokes about it being Anthy’s brother to emphasize the weird life-likeness of its shape. (I’m gonna go crazy for a second and point out that the shape of the projector mimics the silhouette of Dios sitting on the globe. Mileage may vary on that one but it was my first thought after staring at this shot for a while):

While Akio is bullshitting about how much he hates students fighting, Utena is thrown in relief against the mass of the projector, and their positioning in the frame makes it appear to weigh down on them, almost crushing them in the machinery:

I hope I don't have to point out how on the nose this is, but I thought it was a very funny decision to set them to cheerful xylophone music.

5. It's finally time to talk about Kanae! Here's her introductory shot:

The thing that immediately sticks out to me is her character design’s color scheme. Her hair is so platinum blonde it looks greenish, which is further emphasized by her slightly-reddish skin and bright orange dress. It subtly makes her look sickly, like she’s constantly under fluorescent lights even in a sunlit room. The white scarf feels out of place and creates a harsh line across her throat. If anything it feels more like part of the couch, which itself is draped in a white furniture cover. The white drapery brings to mind those white sheets that people cover furniture in when someone dies or abandons their house, and its visual connection to Kanae’s scarf makes it seem like Kanae is also draped in the sheets, being slowly strangled to death. The metaphor makes sense; Kanae has been functionally abandoned by her father and shunted into marriage right after high school, and we later find out Akio's been drugging and raping her. (Before anyone tells me I’m overthinking this drapery detail, here’s official artwork using the same motif in a similar way):

6. Gonna skip ahead to another one of my favorite shots, now featuring Mikage and Mamiya:

This is the scene that establishes the direct significance of the 100 murdered students to Mikage and Mamiya’s role in the story. Mikage is literally put in the shoes of the dead children, immediately after (presumably) fucking Mamiya. Similar to the Chuchu scene, the frame is sharply divided between light and shadow, with Mikage right at the edge of the line. His pants visually draw the bright white of the light into the darkness, but in a jarring and somewhat artificial way. Meanwhile Mamiya lit with bright overhead lighting, quite literally putting him in the spotlight. There’s this weird visual push-and-pull between them; Mikage is the immediately recognizable figure as the camera pans across the shoes, but then Mamiya is thrown into focus, contextualizing the wall of shoes and drawing attention to his separation from it. But! you can see that he is wearing the exact same shoes as Mikage and the dead children. He may seem to have agency and even power through his positioning as a Rose Prince/Bride, but at the end of the day he is just another kid buried alive by Ohtori.

For what it's worth, my take on the whole Mikage/Mamiya arc is that they embody the flaws with homonormativity and attempting to legitimize queerness through proximity to straightness. Mikage has been searching for a way to achieve The Power To Revolutionize The World outside of the established rules (you want the power, you have to marry the female Rose Bride). But the way he does this is by researching AT OHTORI ACADEMY, under Akio's direct jurisdiction (and with his approval, as he mentions in one line this episode). The point of the show is that all struggles for power over other people end up reproducing abusive systems, no matter who it is or what they’re trying to save. So for example, even if it’s a gay teenage boy-who’s-also-a-ghost searching for a way out of his childhood purgatory through his relationship with a more idealized, innocent teenage boy, if he refuses to move on from the power-based mindset that ultimately killed him, he will end up projecting the exact same misogyny and racism onto the person he’s supposedly changing the world for.

The visuals do an incredible job of portraying this double-bind; having the core symbols and colors of their scenes “rhyme” with Akio’s subtly reflects just how inextricable they are. At the same time though, their aesthetic differentiates them from the fantastical fairy-tale-like aesthetic of the heteronormative dueling system. I’m inclined to think their purpose is to “say the quiet part out loud” about the consequences of the dueling system for the queer protagonists. Mikage and Mamiya are quite literally shoved underground, desperately plotting their legitimization in the eyes of the system even as they're surrounded by the bodies of the kids who didn't survive. They weren't given a path forward to grow up so they repeat the only one they have, even though they destroyed any concrete way to save Mamiya's life in the process. They're stuck in purgatory, haunting Ohtori Academy's power structure even as it haunts them back.

((This got waaaayyy longer than I expected and I have a headache, so part 2 coming soon!))

Fansub Release + Analysis of Utena Ep 14

This is a big one!!

My fansub release posts aren't usually like this, but this episode is so jam packed with stuff I want to talk about that I had to write my translation notes as a series of essays. It's longer than usual so strap in!

First, a word on “The Mikage Seminar”

I’ve always found the translation “the Mikage Seminar” very strange. In English, a seminar is an event — a lecture. Yet “the Mikage Seminar” is discussed as though it’s not a recurring lecture, but a society or a school of therapy, or a cult (like scientology). In fact I did a bit of reading about scientology to try and find an alternative translation, and discovered that the origins of scientology, namely a set of ideas and practices called Dianetics, bears a lot of similarities to “the Mikage Seminar”. Both involve a type of therapy where one person looks into their mind and talks to an “auditor”.

The auditor coaxes the preclear to recall as much as possible. — Wikipedia

This in particular stood out to me! Mikage often says 「深く。もっと深く」 during his interviews (”Deeper. Dig deeper.”).

The Japanese word ゼミナール doesn’t actually come from the English “seminar” but the German “Seminar” (capitalised). According to Wikipedia, in Germany, and often in Japan, Seminar/ゼミナール is used to refer to a university course that includes a thesis project. So ゼミナール refers to a course of learning, rather than a talk or lecture. And it would make a lot of sense to call a system like Dianetics a “course”. Almost like a “course” of medicine — a “course” of psychological practices that you can join but never complete.

So it would make sense to translate it as “the Mikage Course”. But “course” has more meanings in English than just this, and in the context of a university this makes it sound more like a mundane teaching course. So I tried some other words: the Mikage Sessions, the Mikage Method, Mikage Psychotherapy, Mikage Therapy, the Mikage Movement. None seemed quite right. Until I remembered this post. ゼミナール is a foreign word in Japanese, why not find a foreign word for the translation? And so I settled on this:

The Mikage Seminarium, AKA The Society of the Black Rose…

Seminarium is Latin, and is where both the German and English derive seminar from. Its original meaning is “seed plot”, but it’s also just the Polish word for seminar. I really like how the Latin makes its meaning ambiguous — it kind of sounds like a location, kind of sounds like a society, and kind of sounds like a learning course. Because it is all of these things.

Anthy: では、香苗さん。失礼します。 Kanae: ね、あたしの事、お姉さんって呼んでいいのよ。もうすぐわたしはあなたの本当のお姉さんになるんだから。

A more literal translation:

Anthy: Thank you for having us, Kanae-san. Kanae: Please… you can just call me “sister”. I’m going to be your real sister soon enough anyway.

The translation I ended up going with:

Anthy: Thank you for having us, Miss Ohtori. Kanae: Please... you can just call me Kanae. We're going to be family soon. There's no need for the formalities.

Japanese honorifics strike again!

In English, sisters-in-law don’t ask to be called “sister”. That would be super weird in most scenarios, and this scene is trying to evoke a particular familiar feeling of closing a distance gap in a relationship. The audience is meant to relate. Changing how Anthy addresses Kanae was pivotal to this scene working properly.

わかりました。あなたは世界を革命するしかないでしょ。

I understand. Your only choice is to force the world to change around you.

This line is translated as “Your only choice is to revolutionise the world” by basically every other translation. The reason is clear — the Japanese is the same as when Utena pulls the sword out of Anthy, or when any of the other characters talk about “revolutionising the world”. However, in this context, I don’t like it. The nuance of the English phrase is quite different to the Japanese phrase. In English, it’s often used to describe new commercial products: “This new device will revolutionise the world!” It comes with an implied “for the better”, but has used to describe technological developments so unexciting that it can also feel hollow. When the student council talk of revolutionising the world, they sound like revolutionaries — the context makes it work. But in this context, it comes out of nowhere and doesn’t have any of that fervour, which makes it sound hollow and flaccid when it should sound sinister and manipulative.

I think a pervading throughline for all the Black Rose duelists is that they see their problems as caused by other people, with themselves being blameless. Rather than change how they approach their situation, Mikage tells them they’re in the right.

Your behaviour will set you down a path. If that path leads to your goals, well done! However, if your path does not lead to your goals, there’s only two ways you can achieve them.

The first is to change your behaviour so that it does align with your goals. The second, impossible way, is for the rest of the world to change such that your current path DOES end up leading to your goals. This second way is not possible in the real world. But it is possible in Utena.

Also I’ll just leave this here: “around you” → “revolve” → “revolution” 👀

Kanae tried to build a relationship with Anthy in a passive, non-confrontational, extremely Japanese way — the way she has been taught to behave, the “proper” way, a mechanical following of the social scripts. We don’t see a lot of their relationship, but the way she behaved and spoke of behaving towards Anthy is very very similar to the way my Japanese grandmother has behaved towards my and my brother’s partners.

It was unthinkable to her to change this pattern of behaviour. Her only choice was to change Anthy, change the rest of the world, so that her behaviour would lead to the outcomes she wants. You could describe this forceful bending of reality to be “revolutionising the world”.

この黒薔薇のある限り、私はこれから嘘の私を演じなくて住む。

As long as I have this Black Rose, I'm free from the lie I was living before.

Besides gender, growing up, and resisting change (which exist as separate themes but also all intertwine as one), another major theme present in Utena is the self and subjective reality. The self is explored within those first major three themes, but also in terms of how the self dictates reality with the Black Rose duellists.

Black Rose Kanae says that her past self was a lie.

It reminds me of all the times when I’ve been going through a personal trial and I’ve looked back on my past self and thought “How naive I was. I understand things better now.” And then after a while I realise I was wrong, and my first self was more right. And then later still, maybe I re-realise that the second self was more right! And so on! The reality of truth (or to use Kanae’s language, “lies”) is so subjective.

Who dictates knowledge production? Who decides what is true; what is valid knowledge? This is a question of sociology - and at the moment that answer is "science does, kinda". But science and academic systems are supported by capitalist structures and tainted by capitalistic incentives — needing to be published in a journal, issues of replicability, the barrier to entry into academia in the first place, etc, etc. In the future we may find our current way of organising knowledge to be archaic and primitive in the same way we look back at medieval scholars.

But what about organising self-knowledge? Knowledge where the only one who can really decide what is true is yourself. And the only one that can decide what yourself even IS is yourself. I feel like I have looked back on my old ways of conceptualising myself many times (not even counting the gender-based revelations) and thought it primitive and archaic, and NOW I truly understand who I am and how to think of myself and how my thoughts interact with my other thoughts. But I have no doubt that I’ll look back on this current self of mine and reject their way of thinking too.

After their heart is replaced by the Black Rose, the duellists themselves frame this change as a moment of self realisation, of clarity. Once the rose is inside them, they wake up from themselves, like I have countless times. Kanae says herself, “This is the true me.” Honestly, I don’t doubt it. I think that version of Kanae was her true self at that moment, given the things influencing her. Being brainwashed doesn’t make you less of a person, or less yourself. It just makes you organise your reality differently.

心を凍結させて作っただけの間に合わせのデュエリストでは、彼女は破れないな。

We won't be able to defeat her by simply freezing someone's heart and forcing them to duel.

Anya and I discussed this in depth. I originally translated 心 as “mind”, because that was the first thing that popped into my head and I thought that was the simple part of the translation. However, Anya pointed out that it didn’t make sense with the themes of self and subjective reality, and I strongly agreed, so I changed it to “heart” instead.

Anya suggested “conscious mind” instead of “heart” but I think heart is more accurate. 心 (kokoro) can mean heart or mind in Japanese (I find it interesting that those two things are portrayed as opposites in English), and that kanji is found in the word for biological heart, 心臓 (shinzou). When they say of the Black Rose "This is your new heart" they use 心臓. They also say "Your new 命 (life/lifeforce)" which I translated as soul since it sounded more hardcore and because "your new life" is a set phrase in English meaning a new chapter in your life rather than your life force. I think the idea is that they're freezing the duellists' ability to love and feel empathy, which in my opinion is necessary for them to commit to the unbelievably selfish act of revolutionising/reconstructing/bending the entire structure of the world for their own convenience.

A very special thanks to @dontbe-lasanya for being there to talk through all these themes and ideas. I'm incredibly proud of this episode's translation and I wouldn't have been able to do it without them.

If you want to see more analysis like this, let me know! And also follow this blog to see episodes of the fansub as they're released. You can find all episodes released so far here:

Rose divider taken from this post

#revolutionary girl utena #rgu #shoujo kakumei utena #sku #utena #visual analysis #utena fansub #revelation apocalypse

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scar-lie · 2 days ago

Text

Crazy Love Pt. 3 Ver. 1 {Natasha}

Summary : Natasha finally have the love of her life

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader

Warning : Nightmare, sad/depress Natasha, happy ending, death

Word count : 7,657

Crazy Love Pt. 1

Crazy Love Pt. 2

Crazy Love Pt. 3 Ver. 2

Cherrylemontober

NO one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

It's been half and a month since they found her dead in her house, a whole half and a month didn't do well for the team

After your funeral Tony, buried his himself in the lab and drink alcohol, the only thing he can get out in the office is when he needs to go back to his and Pepper bedroom, and Pepper sometimes try to at least get some fresh air with him, but Pepper is having a hard time moving on, in your tragic death but she stay strong not just for herself and Tony but for the other Avengers too

Bruce always outside in the middle of the forest so if he turn into Hulk, he will hurt no one, plus the forest reminds him of you, you loved animals, well except spiders and you loved the fresh air and water in the forest

Bucky go back to Wakanda, he can't bare to stay in the compound even a day after your funeral, the compound just reminded him of you, whatever she look in any parts of the compound, so he go back to Wakanda

Sam burying himself by running over and over again, then he will go to you both favorite coffee shop, sitting in your spot and ordering your favorite coffee or tea, even if he didn't like the taste of it, he still drinking it

Clint, he always with his family cause this reminds him of you, specially with Nathaniel, you always play with him and he always in your arms, you spend most of your time with Nathaniel is because you always teasing Nat that it's Nathaniel, not Natasha and you don't have to get up and play with a toddlers, you will just sit and have him in your arm but you love Clints kids so much

Thor, he's in Asgard, once they found you, Thor quickly go back in Asgard and just comeback to your funeral to say goodbye for the last time and go back to Asgard, remembering how you're so amaze when you first go in the Asgard, well Thor didn't get tired seeing you like that every time you visit Asgard, you never get over how beautiful Asgard is

Rhody, He spend his time in the military and constantly checking the Avengers, specially Tony, cause he knows that he's over working and drinking a lot, he manage to visit you tho, yesterday when he got the chance, it hurts him but he's slowly learning to accept the bitter truth

Vision, well he's still Vision but he got more quiet and stay by Wanda's side all the time, comforting her and reassuring her

Wanda, she spend most of her time in her room, crying, mourning of your death, she still cooking but not as delicious as before, considering that all she feels is sorrow, there's no joy in her body so the foods she's making, making it a little bitter, plus it remind her too the times when you two cooking

Steve, he's been uneasy, sure he's mourning in your death but he can't lour himself of your death, knowing that saving people doesn't have a break and he stay strong for Nat, even if it's breaking him, he still reminds strong

And Natasha, to all of them, Natasha is the one who have a most impact to all of them, she move out of Steve bedroom and go back to hers which is besides your bedroom and she’s isolate herself in her bedroom, she didn't dare to take a step out of her room since after your funeral

She only eat 1 times a day but mostly she didn’t eat anything, and she mostly eat is junk foods, every day and night she cry herself to sleep, blaming herself and feeling guilty that she didn't saved you, she didn't protect you while you always protecting and saving her no matter what the circumstances

She just lay in her bed spending all day and night there, she just stand up when she needs to go to the bathroom and take the food the Steve leaving in her door, her life is fall apart, for her there's no point of living when half of her already dead, when the one person, the only reason she keeps fighting, having hopes, making her happy and guiding her in a right direction are already gone

But she can't bring herself to kill herself, cause she knows you will never want it and she don't want to waste your effort, the sweat, and blood you lost just to make sure she's safe, protected and alive

Her world turned to dark grey with storm, she's losing hope now, the only think it makes her to go on in life is The Avengers, Yelena, Melina and Alexie, she can't just disappear knowing you just leave them all

And now here she is again, crying in her bed with the pillow you always used when you spend time with her in her room, you always in her room tho, and she's laying in your side of her bed when you will sleep in her room

"I miss you" she mumbled burying her face in the pillow, smelling your scent that left in the pillow that is now slowly fading, until she fall asleep again, remembering the worst day of her life

She wake up with a smile on her face, she just had a dreamed of you last night, a good one that she thinks it was real

-THE DREAM

Natasha wake up with the sounds of birds chirping and the sound of water running and falling, she open her eyes and cover the sun that was hitting in her eyes

Natasha frown when she wake up in a different room, it was all wood, the chairs with a pillow, book shelf, night stand, the bed and it's look like a rooms in one of the resort in the forest but this is more comfortable and more relaxing

Then she frown more when she see a beautiful Paradise outside the window, there's a waterfalls, tress, flowers, and fruits are around her, animals scattered doing there own business and having fun, the sun was hitting the water that makes it sparkle, big or small rocks form into a beautiful places and the cold and fresh air hitting her whole body

"Where am I?" Natasha mumbled to herself and stand up, and start to go out

She looks around, scanning the place while taking a step forward, mesmerized at how beautiful the place is. She found herself in peace and for once in a half of the month she feels safe, protected, relaxed, free and happy? she feel a little bit happy

Natasha take a deep breath with close eyes, this is the first she felt this, since Y/N change to a crazy person and it felt forever for her, she missed this feeling, like she's in your arms and nothing matters only you and your comfort that matters to her

But that stop instantly, getting alert and ready to kill someone when she heard someone humming a song, it was a relaxing one but she could never trust it even if it's relaxing her

She look around and grab a branch with a sharp edge, then she start to look for the person who held a beautiful humming voice, she's stepping in the ground carefully, making sure she will not gonna make any noise

Until she come close to the waterfalls and she see a girl who have a Y/H/C hair with a basket with some fruits and the animals surrounded her, the girl is sitting in a plain white blanket besides her is her basket and she's wearing a beautiful white dress with some details, she also have a white handkerchief tied in her head that compliment her wavy Y/H/C hair then she have a white flower resting in her lap

(The outfit but no sandals)

(Like this, I can't find a good one with the front showing so we will stick to this one)

(The hair, white handkerchief and the flowers)

-NATASHA

I frown at it, then the girl started to laugh with the animals around her, she's like talking to them but as soon as I recognized the laugh I froze on my spot that the branch I was holding is back in the ground again

Then she look on her left side to look at the squirrel and I see her half smile face, and it's her, Y/N, my heart beats faster, my knees are getting weak but I still manage to stand still, and my eyes are getting watery

I can't believe of what am I seeing, Y/N is in front of me, just a few steps from me and she's happy, have a sweet cheeky smile on her face, my Y/N who's like a child for the small things she loves

I missed this, her smile, her face, her eyes that sparkle with so much joy, her cheek specially when she's blushing in my remarks and small things, and.....and-gosh I just missed her so much

"Natty?" I bring out of my trance when I heard her voice again and my eyes snap at her beautiful Y/E/C ones that held so much passion and joy and she stand up and starting to walk towards me with her basket

"Finally you're awake, sorry I wasn't there when you wake up, I just get us some frui-" she stop when she got closer to me and notice the tears slip out of my eyes that I didn't know

"Are you crying?" then she cup my face and her thumb brush over my cheeks, wiping my tears

"Why are you crying my Natty?" then she pout with eyebrows connected to each other

But this just bring me to more tears, this is real I can feel her, her hand, the warm of her hands, I can hear her, and she's here in front of me, I missed this so much

All I can do is sob, bringing her in a tight hug, I hug her as tight as I can, afraid she will leave me again, and I don't want that to happen, now that she's in my arms again

"You're here, you're here, this is true you're here........oh my god!" I sob, burying my face in her neck and cry there, while her hands goes to my back and head

Her hands running up and down in my head and back calming me down while she keeps kissing my head and reassure me that she's here with me, in my arms

"Shh..... Natty stop crying, your gonna make me cry too" she whisper and I push my head off of her just to look at her gorgeous face

I chuckled when I see her puppy eyes, frown lips and eyebrows like she's nearly crying, I wipe my tears while chuckling and kiss her cheeks that makes her blush, that I missed and love the most

“I’ll stop crying” I whisper and sniff, look at the side and wipe my tears and look at her again with a smile on my face, one that reach on my eyes and full of joy

“There’s my favorite smile” Y/N said with a smile and a blush on her face

This is the only chance to have a full view of her, what she’s wearing and how beautiful she is, I sigh and look down to her while stepping one backward to look at her from head to toe

She get what I’m doing, so she give me a spin for me to have a better look on her and she look magnificent and this makes me in tears again, so I bite my lower lips to prevent my sobs and to try not to fall down my tears

She’s wearing this beautiful white dress with a details and the handkerchief in her head that I give to her, this is the last gift I give to her, I love spoiling her with gift and this, this dress is the last gift I give to her

And this is the first time I see her wear this, well she didn’t wear this since I give it to her since I’m so busy going out with Steve, having date nights and just spending time with him

This is the dress I want to see her wear cause i know she will look magnificent, I remember when I was out with Steve and we come across to a shop and see this beautiful dress, I quickly pull Steve inside the shop and I buy this for Y/N and I don’t care if Steve teasing me of how so soft I am to Y/N

Even if he’s my boyfriend, I still build some boundaries and a little walls but with Y/n I let all my guard and walls down and be vulnerable in front of her

“So how do I look?” she asked, bringing me out of my trace and I smile at her then a single tears slip out of my eyes so I quickly wipe it off

"Magnificent………..you look magnificent as always” I said softly then she lightly jump and squeal of happiness, I chuckled at it then I noticed something

I frown at it, her feet is bare, she’s not wearing any slippers, shoes or anything to cover her foot from the dirt or possible spinlers in the ground and I don’t like the idea of it and seeing her bare foot in the ground it set something off of me

“Here wear this” I said and give her my slippers and she stop jumping around and look at me down since I already in my knees waiting for her to wear my slippers with my help

I look up when she didn’t move her feet and I see her blushing more and she cover her face with her hands, i chuckled at it and stand up, taking her face off of her face that makes her whine

“You’re cute when you’re blushing” I tease and she slap my arms playfully with a groan, I chuckled at it and soon after she chuckled too

“But I love it” I add and kneel my one knee again and take her right foot and slip my slippers on it and I did to her left one too

After that I stand up, brushing the dust off of me knee, stand beside her, taking the basket on her hand and put my other free arm over her shoulders

“So, what did you get? And where have you been?” I asked her and we start to go inside the house again

“Fruits and other ingredients” she said ignoring my other question but i just shrug it off

Once we’re in the house she quickly pull me in the kitchen, making me sit in one of the stool and she go in front of the stove and put her apron on

“Just stay still there, I’m gonna make you the delicious breakfast you will ever taste” and she smirk with a wink and ‘tsk’ making me laugh a little

With that she start to cook but not before she put some music on, with that there’s a good ambiance and she’s starting to dance and sing with the song while cooking

I’m giggling and watching her doing her thing, this is the one I always admire to her, and I will never get tired of seeing this and I will do anything to see this again and to see her

After she cook we eat in a delicious breakfast and full of laughter and now here we are in the fall

“Natty come on” Y/N shout and pull me closer until my feet is in the water

I look in my front and I see the fall sparkling and making a calming sounds, this place is beautiful and when I look at Y/N she’s already in her bra and underwear, putting her clothes where they will never get wet

“Come on, Natty, you stings so…let’s swim” she then whisk a water in my face

I heard her giggle while I wipe my face and then she splash a water in my face then splash a water on me wetting my shirt and shorts, I gasped at it but she laugh and swim away from me

“Oh you wanna play that game, you better be ready!” I shout stripping and leaving me in my underwear and bra, I throw my clothes beside her and swim where she was

When I was near at her she go down so I stop and look around, getting more aware in my surroundings but then I got pull down making me yelp

When I open my eyes under the water I see Y/N smiling and she go up so I follow her, I gasped for air when my head is finally out of the water and I heard an angelic giggle and laugh that was coming out of Y/N mouth

I look at her and giggle at how she act so I splash a water to her, making her stop

“I’ll get you back” I threaten and she just shrug and swim away from me

“See if you can catch me!” she shout

This goes on for a few minutes, just us playing around the fall until I finally catch her and hold her waist

“Gotcha” I whisper making her startle and I start to tickle her making both of us sink down

After that we go back in the ground and sit in the rock and she start to hum a song again, one by one the animals starting to surround us, the squirrel even so to her lap, looking up at her, I smile at it and close my eyes and relax at her beautiful humming voice

————————————————————————————

-NO ONE’S POV

When Nat open her eyes again, she’s back in her room in the compound again, once she recognize her ceiling she quickly shot up and look around, looking for you, she got panic when she see you nowhere

“Natty are you ok?” Natasha heard a soft voice that she loves the most and she quickly snap her head where the voice is and she see you at the door the only person she wants

“Oh my god, I thought you leave me again” Natasha quickly jump out of her bed and run to the girl she loves and missed the most, Y/N

Then she quickly put you in a tight hug, afraid you will disappear if she didn’t held you enough, and she don’t want that to happen and go back to her routine which is bed and crying til she fall asleep

“Please, promise me you’re not gonna leave me again …….. You will stay, right?” natasha asked with tears streaming down her face

She stare straight through the Y/H/C head woman eyes in front f her white she cup her face, her eyes are begging for Y/N to said yes

“I’m not leaving you silly, plus I’m always right there…….” then she poke natasha’s heart with a smile

“In your heart” then she look up to Natasha with her bright smile

For Natasha that was an enough answer as long as she know Y/N will never leave her again, that all matters to her, to have Y/n back in her arms again

And this time she promises and make her mission to protect and save Y/n in any situation and any harm, she will do everything for her to make Y/n stay

“Thank you” Natasha whisper and kissed Y/N’s forehead

Then Natasha pull Y/n in her bed making Y/N to sit in her bed, then she put the covers in y/n’s lap, grab the remote, getting in the bed too behind Y/N

Now Y/N is between her legs and she pull her to lean her back in her front, then she quickly wrapped her arms in Y/N’s waist and open the TV

“What movie?” Natasha asked going to the Netflix

“You choose” Y/N whisper getting comfortable

Natasha smile at it and put Y/N’s favorite romance movie, even if she don’t like it, she still watch it cause Y/N loves it and by the time being, she learn to like the romance movies too

With that they watch in silence, just savoring this moment, the moment that Natasha have been craving for, and missed, she then rub her thumb in Y/N’s stomach, knowing this makes the Y/H/C head girl relax

Until half in the movie, natasha’s hand goes to Y/N’s hair and start to comb it, then she reach to the drawer of her nightstand and get out an elastic and comb

Then she start to comb Y/N’s hair that makes the Y/H/C girl hum in satisfaction

After Natasha comb her hair, she start to section Y/N’s hair into two to make a double french braid

“Stay still, потница” Natasha mumbled and y/N just nod, letting Natasha braid her hair with a humming song of a Russian song that Y/N loves

“And done” Natasha whisper after she finished and she give Y/N a mirror, but she didn’t take it and look at Natasha with a smile

“I don’t need a mirror, I know I look good whenever you do my hair” Y/N said with a cheeky smile and Natasha hug her

“You always look good even in your morning hair, you’re gorgeous потница” She whisper and Y/n giggle at it until Y/N stomach grumbled making the red head look down on her stomach and Y/N look away while whistling

“You’re hungry” Natasha tease and Y/n just whine

She get out of bed and pull Natasha with her, then they both slip their slippers on and then Y/n’s stomach grumbled again and this makes Y/N whine but Natasha chuckled to it

“Come on, let’s eat breakfast, I’m starving” Y/N said with her cheeky smile and Natasha chuckled at it

Y/N always hungry so Natasha always making foods, only the one she knows to cook, like fried foods, toast bread and of course her favorite, peanut butter sandwich that Y/L loves too, and if y/n get tired of her fried foods, they will go out to buy foods

“Come on, I’ll make you a breakfast” And Nat hold her hand and they go out of her room down to the kitchen, but they just take a few steps Y/N whine

“What?” Natasha asked worried

“Don’t be mad but…..” Y/N bite her lower lips

“I’m not gonna get mad, what is it?” Natasha clearly concern and worried for the woman in front of her

“I’m just….uhm my stomach don’t want some fried foods of yours” Y/N mumbled looking down in her slippers, which is natasha slippers you stole from her 2 years ago, this makes Natasha chuckled and make you look up at her

“Don’t worry, I’ll cook other food, and I know you’re not sick but I know how to cook soup, you want that? And maybe I can make both of us a peanut butter sandwich?” Natasha said egear to cook for her favorite girl and person in this world,

This makes Y/N squeal from happiness, whatever Natasha learn something new from cooking she always gets so excited to taste it, knowing Natasha will allow only you to taste it first, and Natasha loves to learn new recipe for you to eat

“Yes, yes yes yes…..now come on, I want to taste that soup of yours” Y/n quickly drag Natasha to the kitchen and this makes Natasha chuckled

Once they got in the kitchen Natasha quickly but gently pick Y/N up and rest her in the counter beside the stove and Natasha quickly get all the ingredients she needs

Natasha can't let to take the risk of you getting out of her sight, she can't take the risk cor you to just fade away when she take her eyes off of you

“Mmmhh it smells good, I can’t wait to taste it” you said rubbing your hands together and swinging your feet, this makes Natasha smile

“Just wait…” she smile at you so you both go on in a good conversation, like you always used too while she’s cooking the breakfast

She set things up and go back to you and pick you up again and place you down in the bar stool and sit across to you

“Mmmhh yummy” you said eager to taste the food she cook for you, Natasha smile

“Go on taste it” you smile widely and take a spoonful of the soup

You will eat it without blowing it so Natasha quickly stop you, cause she knows you will burn yourself if you just take that spoonful of a newly cooked soup

“Woah, woah woah slow down, blow it first, it’s still hot, you will burn yourself” Then Natasha lean in and began blowing the soup in the spoon while you giggle in embarrassment

“Sorry” you mumbled and bite you lips

After Natasha blow it and make sure it’s not that hot she lean back with a smile looking at you with loving eyes

“Nothing to be sorry, Y/N/N, there you can eat it” your eyes lit up and you quickly take the spoon in your mouth

“Mmhhh” you hum with close eyes and slum back down in your seat, savoring the delicious soup

“Yummy” you said when you the soup is already down in your stomach and you lean in again and start eating the soup

This makes Natasha giggle and start eating with you, for the first time since you dead this is the happies, relaxing breakfast she have

The have a good conversation, remembering the old time and telling the hilarious scenarios in their life while only natasha and y/N just listening to her, but mostly Y/n is the who always tell stories while Natasha is listening but now, Natasha is the one who’s telling stories and y/N just listening and laughing with Natasha

“And oh I remember when you just trip after you defend a lady in the park with 5 boys, that’s hilarious, you look badass walking away then suddenly you trip” Natasha said between laughter

What she didn’t know that Avengers with Pepper and Clint’s family just got in the living room, they agree last night that they should help one another to get through this and mostly help Natasha, knowing is is the most damage one

“Is that Natasha right?” Sam asked frowning, when they all heard her laughing, this is the first time they heard Natasha laugh loudly like she’s the only one in the world

“Ye-yeah, I guess” Wanda said, she clearly still have a red puffy eyes and a big eye bags under eyes

“Why is Lady Natasha laughing?” Thor asked and bring her Mjolnir in the corner

“There’s only one why to find out” Tony said and they all go to the kitchen

“And oh Y/N/N maybe we can visit Lene, she missed you too” Natasha said and this makes all the Avenger froze in their spot, looking at one another

“She probably will be ha-” Natasha cut off by Bucky

“Ah Nat, who are you talking with?” Bucky asked and Natasha look back since she’s facing her back to them, and they see a big smile plaster on Natasha’s face, the one they never seen before

“Oh Hi guys, come on Y/N is here, I know you all missed her too” Natasha said and stand up to go to them

All of them have a question look, at this point they got more worried to her cause they see no one besides Natasha, the soup in front of Natasha is untouched, the spoon besides the hot soup is still laying down neatly, the peanut butter sandwich is still laying down in the left side, without a bite, only Natasha’s foods is the one who's not untouch

“Uhm, Nat is dead” Bruce bring the news that Natasha forgot since the dream happened

This makes Natasha stop in her track, she just take a step when she stop and she frown looking at them

“Wha-what…?” she asked chuckling not believing what Bruce said

“Y/N dyed half and a mont-” she quickly cut Pepper in her sentence

“I head what Bruce said” she snap, getting angry

“She’s not dead! I just talked seconds ago to her!” she yell in angry looking all of them with confusion

Laura quickly take the kids away from the kitchen so they didn’t hear or witness Natasha’s sorrow, this kill Laura and she don’t want that to witness so so they get out of the compound and go to the nearest park

“What are you saying? She’s not dead” The Avenger sigh and look at one another, breaking at what Natasha’s saying

“Nat Y/N dyed, Half and a month ago, she took her own life” Rhody softly said

“We see her hanging in her bedroom ceiling, you and Wanda first saw it, remember?” Steve softly said and go to natasha slowly

“I told you I just talked to her, look she’s right th-” Natasha stop when she point where she see you, and when she look at it, you’re already gone

“There” she whisper confused, and tears starting to whelm up of your her eyes

“Nat, st-” Tony said but natasha didn’t dare to listen

“She’s just here, I’m just talking to her, laughing even” then she go to your seat and touch it and it was a cold seat

“Nat, she’s dead” Wanda said

Natasha’s tears starting to fall down, one first follow by one again until numerous tears are falling

“No, no no no no no no no no no, yo-you’re lying” she said looking at the food she made for you and it was untouched

“Nat we’re not lying, you saw her dead, we ev-” she cut Tony off

“SHE’S HERE, IN MY SIDE, I EVEN TOUCH HER, WE TALK, EAT, AND I CAN FEEL HER IN MY ARM, I-I…..I EVEN…..-” Natasha sob shout getting weaker, that she just wake up to a reality

“We even buried her Lady Natasha” Thor said softly and this makes natasha go weaker, collapsing in the ground and thankfully Steve quickly catch her

“No, no no no no no, you-you’re……..you-you’re just lying” Natasha keep mumbling that sentence over and over again while sobbing

Steve bring her to a hug and Natasha try to get him off of her but Steve didn’t budge it and continue to hug Natasha even if she’s punching her

“AAAAHHHHHH NO NO NOOOOOO, NOOOOOOOO” Natasha scream out, it was agonizing, the pain and sorrow, it’s like she just seen you hanging in your bedroom ceiling just a few minutes ago

And all of the Avenger look away from Natasha, crying too, this makes even harder for all of them, seeing Natasha like this, killing them over and over again

“Natash-” She cut Steve off and push him away

“NO, YOU’RE LYING, SHE’S ALIVE. Sh-she’s alive, I touch her, I even braid her hair…..sh-she’s alive, you-you all ju-just……. Just lying” She back away from them until she stop

“She’s dead nat” Clint said, in the whole ordeal, he spoke with seriousness and pain, then he step closer to Natasha

“Don’t you fucking said that Clint, I told you she’s just here, I see her, believe me” Natasha said through sobs

“Nat-” Clint whisper and the Avengers just looking everywhere that’s but Natasha, they can’t bare to see natasha like this

“No, don’t you dare sa-” she cut off by Clint grabbing her arm and harshly shook her a bit and grip her arm tightly

“She’s dead Nat, she killed herself” Clit said harshly, he hates doing this but he have too as long as his best friend wake up to her illusions

“No, no no no no” Natasha whisper looking at Clint’s eyes, who also crying

“Accept it, what you see is just an illusion Nat, Y/N is dead!” with that Natasha didn’t fight and let her body weight on Clint, that he catch and bring Natasha in a tight needed hug

Natasha just cry there, she feel like someone pour a bucket full off ice on her, but the feeling and the truth is killing her, this is more painful than the torture she went through before

And she don’t want this to feel, she’s so tired of it, she’s so tired of mourning and the pain is unbearable, she just want this to stop

This went on for a few days that turn into a weeks and months, Natasha lost her mind and getting crazier by the time being, she keeps seeing Y/N everywhere and this drives her crazy

She also killed someone, when she get out of the compound cause she see Y/N outside, she just follow Y/N until someone disrespect her

And this bring back everything and when the night comes she killed the guy like what Y/N killed the previous guy who disrespect her

This go on for one to two, then three until numerous guy killed by Natasha, she continue what Y/N started

Until One night she dream of Y/n again, like the other nights, but this one is different, this is not just only making memories

-THE DREAM

She wake up again in the beautiful paradise but this one is different, instead of a fall it was a clean lake, instead of a house it’s just a blanket with pillows

The place is beautiful, this more brighter and calmer, trees everywhere, birds chirping around, butterflies and other animals are here, and the water are sparkling by the sun hitting the water

She feel at peace here and all her worries and pain are gone here, she feels like she’s in heaven

“Gladly you’re awake, talia” a soft voice ring in her ear so she quickly snap her head to see the Y/H/C head girl

“Потница” Y/n smile at her and sit besides her, Natasha got mesmerized by your beauty, you are wearing a white dress with gold details

(Your outfit)

“Welcome to my paradise, my love” Y/n said looking around but Natasha eyes is on you

“You look magnificent as always, потница” you smile at her and thank her for that

“Finally catch up on you” Natasha said and will gonna hug Y/N but she just went through her

“Wha-what?” she frown confused and she try to hug you but she went through you again

“Y/N?” she look at you waiting for an answer

“Oh my love, I’m sorry but you can’t touch me” Y/N said softly and give natasha a small smile

“Why? I can touch you before” Natasha said and try to touch you but she can’t

“You know what, let’s explore my home, shall we?” Y/N stand and wait for Natasha so she stand up too

“Ok, whatever you want, потница” Y/N smile at it

“Follow me” and they start to go around, Y/N showing Natasha her favorite part of her home, and telling her what she have done to them

She tell stories and have a good memories, but behind all of this is a message for Nat to have, that Y/N want to tell her

Until it’s time for Nat to wake up, in the reality where no Y/N, where the pain and sorrow will come back

“Nat it’s time” Y/N said softly stopping by the lake and look down in the clear water who have their reflection

“Time for what?” Natasha asked and look down in the water too and have eye contact to Y/N

“For you to wake up” The she face Natasha, this make Natasha eyes water

“Wake up?” Natasha asked looking at her with confusion

“Yes, wake up to reality” Natasha just look at her to Y/N smile softly at her

“This is just a dream, my love I’m not real” Natasha’s tears starting to fall, even if you want to wipe it, you can’t

“No no no no, you’re real………you are real” Natasha sob at it trying to hold you but she can’t

“No, my love, this is just a dream, this is my home now and you have to wake up, you can’t stay here” you said softly

“I don’t want to wake up, it hurts there, and I don't want to feel it anymore, please………please I don’t want to wake up, please” Natasha plead but you shook your head and take a deep breath and with a flick of your fingers you cup her face and wipe her tears

“Look Talia, I’m not here to distract you from reality, I’m here to make you realized something, the Y/n you keep seeing is not me, the y/n keeps appearing in your dreams is not me, it’s just your illusion” Y/N said softly rubbing her thumb on Natasha’s cheek and wipe her tears

“Wh-what?” Natasha look at her confused

“Look, I know what I did back in earth is wrong, and my brain eat me, poison me and be a crazy person bu-” Natasha cut you off

“No you just did that because you love me and I know you didn’t mean it” she said and Y/N smile at her and Nod

“Yes, I didn’t mean it bu-” again she cut you off

“And because of me you did those and and because of you you took your own life, this is my fau-” you quickly cut her off

“No, Natasha, this is no ones fault ok, it’s my decision to killed myself cause, I know I can’t stop myself of killing people” Y/n take a deep breath

“Look, I saw myself to you because I want you to wake up from the reality where I’m no longer there, and I want you to keep going on your life and live happy with Steve, have yi=our own family, I know you can’t pregnant but I now Tony and Bruce will fixed that but that’s not the point….” Natasha look in your eyes sowas you to hers

“I want you to stop, what you’re doing is wrong, stop continuing what I started, you’re not that person Talia, you are a hero not the Villain” you said softly

“Maybe I already became one……look if you’re not there, I will lose my mind, i can’t live another second without you so please I don't want to wake up, please” Natasha sob pleading and she hug you tightly

The comfort she’s looking for is now here, she’s getting it, the real comfort not the comfort that her illusion making

“Please, please I don’t want to wake up” Natasha plead burying her face in your neck and you rub her back up and down

“But if you don’t wake up, you will die, and think of the people down there, the Avengers, Wanda who is counting on you, having hopes that you will go back to your normal self, Steve who loves you the most with all of his heart, Lena who still needs a sister, your love, Melina and Alexie who still wants to see you and make it up to the years of pain they cause, they still needs you down there Nat, so you need to wake up” you said softly but she shook her head and pull away

“No, it’s unfair” she sob looking at you

“It’s unfair, Y/N cause Wanda need you too, so was Lena, Steve, Tony and all of us, especially me, I need you but you just left us” Natasha broke of her voice

“I know but it’s for the best but you, the world still needs you” You said softly

“Please, I don’t want to go back there, I have already done enough, I always put everyone before me….please at once I wanna be selfish…..” natasha soc holding your hand firmly

“For once I wanna put myself first, I wanna be selfish, I wanna stay here with you…..cause if I go back there knowing you will not gonna be there, I can’t go on life, I can’t save a life and it will drive me crazy so please…….” then she cup your face and kiss your forehead then rest her forehead to yours

“I want to be selfish and stay here with you, please” she said softly

At that moment you know you can’t change Natasha’s mind, what every pursue ow whatever you say, she will stick of inseasting to stay here in your home, in your paradise

Cause you know she’s a stubborn one but you love it, so you sigh, holding her wrist and rub your thumb at it and nod, leaning in on her comfort you missed too

“Ok” you whisper and she sob bringing you in a tight hug

“Thank you, thank you” you smile at her and hug her too

————————————————————————————

Meanwhile in the compound, the team are losing hope, they can’t help Natasha and it makes them frustrated especially Wanda, Steve and Lena

“I’ll go check on Nat” Lena offer and they all hum at it so all hum in agreement and lena go to her sister’s room

“Nat?” she whisper and enter her room, she see a peaceful Natasha laying in her bed

Lena frown and got happy cause for the first time of 8 months this is the only times she see her sister peaceful

“Nat?” she said softly and shook her but the redhead assassin didn’t wake up which is unusual cause she always wake up even if you just open her door

“Nat” lena panic and shook natasha violently but the redhead still didn’t wake up

Lena try for a few times but it still didn;t wake her up and this broke Lena, sobbing in her sister’s body and she put her two fingers in her pulse in the neck and she felt nothing

“Natasha” Lena whisper and sob knowing her sister already passed away

“FRIDAY tell everybody to come up here

“Yes, ms. Belova” with that FRIDAY tell everybody to go to Natasha’s room

At that time Lena broke the news and they all broke down especially Wanda and Steve, this isn’t easy for them, first you tragic death and now Natasha’s tragic death too

————————————————————————————

The last moment of Natasha, her funeral, everyone is wearing all black mourning of Natasha’s death, Doctor Cho announce that she died of cardiac arrests

In the rainy day, everyone have an umbrella and in front of Natasha’s casket and slowly putting down in the hole

They will buried her body next to your, her death is uneasy too but they accept it, knowing that she’s know with you, that Natasha always wanted since you dead

They know that it’s hard to move on knowing that still didn’t move on on your death and now Natasha but they know they will accept the truth someday and move on and be happy

“ Я знаю, что ты теперь с Т/И/И, и я знаю, что вы оба теперь счастливы, Т/И/и, пожалуйста, позаботься о моей сестре, Ты тоже Нат, присмотри за Т/И/И” (I know you're both happy now Y/N/N please take care of my sister, You too Nat, look after Y/N/N) Lena said with a smile

“I always will люблю вас обоих” (Love you both) Natasha whisper and throw a white roses

“I am happy and will look after her, I will always love you too сестра” Natasha said from above

You and Natasha watching everyone from your now both home up, Natasha feel bad for leaving them but she didn’t regret it, she knows that she will just make a bad decision and do something wrong if she go back to earth

“I will don’t worry Lena, I always love you too” Y/N said with a smile, she understand and speak Russian too, Yelena and Natasha teach her

“Let’s go?” Natasha asked and stand up taking the dirt off of her dress and offer her hand to Y/N, that she gladly take and Natasha pull Y/N up

(Natasha’s outfit)

(Natasha’s hair)

“Let’s go” Y/N said and Natasha help Y/N take the dirt off of her dress, Y/N still wear the same dress tho

(Yout outfit)

(Your hair)

(And you both didn’t wear anything to cover your feet, you both just go aroun bare feet)

With That you walk away hand in hand and happy to be with each other’s arm again

This is what happiness and a life you both wanted, a peaceful yet you both are together like a love birds, that whenever the one leave, they always come back, when one love birds die, the one will follow soon

And you both are happy that this is the ending you both have, you might have a traumatic pass, have a worst life in earth but at least you both do everything to have purpose in life and didn’t let your past affect your presents

And how here you both are happy with your new lives so was the people who loves you both in earth, they are happy that you both are now in peace, they know that someday you all will reunite, in the afterlife

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanova #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #black widow 2021 #natalia romanova #natasha x you #marvel black widow #natalia alianovna romanova #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha and yelena #natasha deserved better #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romonova

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nanamineedstherapy · 3 days ago

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Velvet Sin & Clandestine Vows - Getting *ahem ahemed* by Nanami in a bathroom at a billionaire's party!

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Minors DNI/Implied Cheating/Shameless Smut/My First Smut

Summary: Nanami X F!Reader Porn with plot if you squint Nanami at a bougie party? Weird. Nanami getting dragged into a bathroom with a woman who isn't his wife? Even weirder. What’s hotter than luxury, mystery, and terrible decision-making? Spoiler: nothing. Let the chaos (and a closet with better taste than Gojo) ensue. Or Getting Railed by Nanami in a bathroom at a billionaire's party! This fic started as a joke & spiraled into a mix of billionaire aesthetics, deadpan sass, & unhinged party vibes. Buckle up—it’s classy, messy, & totally Nanami-approved. 💅 #Rewritten since I hated the first draft. TW: Maybe Cheating

A/N: This is my first time writing smut of any kind so let me know if it hits the spot ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖) Y’all, I swear, Nanami is loyal as hell, but who doesn’t love a little tension and mystery? If you’re living for the luxury or just here for the smut, drop a comment or a kudos—your chaos feeds mine. Cheers, besties! 🍸

The road twisted like a serpent through a dense forest, the towering pines stretching skyward, their shadows merging into a dark canvas under the fading sun. As Nanami’s Aston Martin DBS Superleggera glided past the last cluster of trees, the view opened into a scene pulled from the pages of an expensive dream.

The estate stood by a tranquil lake , its surface a sheet of liquid sapphire, mirroring the golden hues of the evening. The mansion, impossibly grand, didn’t merely rise—it commanded the horizon, almost otherworldly.

Towering walls of smooth stone enclosed the property, their minimalist design interrupted by intricate wrought-iron gates that whispered exclusivity rather than screamed it. AI-quipped security cameras, seamlessly embedded into the structure, blinking like mechanical sentinels, their presence a silent testament to caution wrapped in discretion. Guards in impeccably tailored suits patrolled the perimeter, some with guns, some with drones, some with androids, some with canines, their demeanor more akin to that of secret service agents than traditional staff.

The driveway stretched before him, a sleek ribbon of obsidian stone that gleamed like polished onyx under strategically placed lighting. The circular courtyard at the end was a gallery of excess : a Koenigsegg Jesko , a Bugatti Chiron , a Maserati Folgore , a Mercedes-Maybach S-Class , a Cadillac Celestiq , and a Rolls-Royce Phantom sat gleaming among other cars, their black, forest green or electric blue flawless exteriors reflecting the golden glow of vintage lampposts.

The lawns rolled outward like an emerald sea, interrupted by marble fountains with sculptures so detailed they seemed to breathe. At the edge of the estate, a private dock cradled a yacht —a floating palace that promised indulgence on the water. Above, the faint hum of helicopter rotors signaled rooftop landings, where multiple sleek, futuristic aircrafts waited in perfect formation.

The mansion itself was a contradiction brought to life. Its towering facade bore sharp lines and elegant curves, an architectural ballet where glass and steel met aged stone and brushed brass, each material woven into a seamless tapestry of power and refinement. High ceilings soared above, the kind that made you feel small without making you feel insignificant. The structure breathed genius—an intellect so vast it had turned ambition into reality.

As Nanami pulled up, the double doors opened before he even stepped out, as though the house had been expecting him. Inside, the ambiance shifted into a warm, inviting opulence. The grand hall shimmered under crystal chandeliers that fractured light into golden rain. Polished marble floors reflected the glow, amplifying the sense of space, while floor-to-ceiling windows turned the lake into a living painting framed by midnight silk drapes.

Walking in, he adjusted his Tateossian 18K gold cufflinks out of habit, the gold gleaming briefly in the chandelier light. The fabric of his Tom Ford silk Charmeuse shirt cooled against his skin as he rolled up his sleeves neatly, a testament to effort without indulgence. His tailored Mohair trousers—his entire outfit, his wife’s suggestion—fit him perfectly, a fact he acknowledged with a silent nod to her exquisite taste.

He knew she had spent more time selecting them than he ever would. She had an eye for these things, a maddening precision that made him trust her implicitly. He'd let her spend a good amount on tonight's party outfit to blend in with his office crowd, even though price tags were the least of his concerns. His wife, however, was a different story. Her taste was so particular that she rarely found anything worth buying at a store. But once she did, if it was casual, it would likely be inexpensive. However, if it was anything work- or party-related, it would undoubtedly carry a hefty price tag

The party coursed through the mansion like a heartbeat. In one ballroom , laughter mingled with the clinking of glasses as soft jazz played from hidden speakers. A smaller, more intimate space pulsed with energy, decked out like a private nightclub , where a few couples swayed to Spanish music under the prismatic glow of lights. Staff moved seamlessly among the crowd; their movements choreographed perfection, while their uniforms—a balance of practicality and haute couture—highlighted the wealth that surrounded them.

Each corner of the estate exuded thought and precision. From the soft, ambient lighting casting shadows on minimalistic art pieces to the way every surface seemed untouched yet lived in, the house wasn’t just a home; it was a living entity—one that whispered of brilliance, extravagance, and untold secrets.

Soon, before he knew it, corporate small talk had already grated on him; he’d barely resisted the urge to check his watch. Conversations about ‘exciting’ fiscal projections felt like sandpaper on his nerves, but years of navigating boardrooms had honed his stoic armor to perfection. He tilted his head just enough to feign interest in a junior analyst’s enthusiastic recounting of how they saved 0.5% on operational costs last quarter.

“Impressive,” he muttered, his voice so flat it was unclear whether he meant it or not. The analyst beamed anyway, oblivious.

His whiskey remained mostly untouched, a mere prop for these tedious rituals. He glanced down at the gold trim of the glass and thought fleetingly about hurling it through one of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows—not out of anger, but for something more stimulating than listening to Steve from Compliance recount his golf trip.

“Nanami-san!” Steve called out, loud enough to turn heads. “What’s your handicap? Bet you’re deadly on the green.”

Nanami turned slowly, blinking once as if the words needed extra time to register. “I don’t play golf, Steve,” he replied, deadpan. “I have a job.”

Steve’s laugh was loud and awkward, his ego crumpling in on itself. Nanami allowed himself a flicker of satisfaction before turning back to the entrance, silently daring someone interesting to walk in and save him.

A marketing executive drifted over, a glass of champagne precariously balanced in one hand, their other already extended for a handshake. “Nanami, old sport!” the exec crowed, as though they’d survived war trenches together instead of working in adjacent departments.

“Hardly,” Nanami said, shaking their hand briefly before folding his arms, an unmistakable signal that the conversation was over before it began.

Then the intern appeared like a fly buzzing near a fresh wound, her enthusiasm bordering on suffocation. “Nanami-san, you look great tonight,” she gushed. “Is that Tom Ford? I could tell from a mile away!”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes the moment he saw her making her way towards him from the other corner of the room. Her extremely short gold dress barely covered anything, highly inappropriate for co-worker parties. Where was HR when you needed them?

He regarded her with the kind of cool detachment that made people second-guess speaking to him in the first place. His response was little more than a nod, a gesture so dismissive it might as well have been punctuation. “Yes,” he replied curtly, sipping his whiskey for the first time just to end the interaction. The burn of alcohol was preferable to enduring another comment.

“I’ve never seen you in anything so... relaxed ,” she added, eyes wide as though he’d arrived in a Hawaiian shirt instead of a $25,000 ensemble.

Nanami considered a sarcastic remark— yes, I’m positively unhinged tonight with my gold cufflinks and tailored trousers —but decided against it. “Enjoy the party,” he said instead, his tone as warm as a January morning.

Her persistence, however, was unwavering, her enthusiasm grating on his last nerve. She was the type who delivered coffee he never asked for, lunches he didn’t need, flushed cheeks, and doe-eyed stares he couldn’t unsee. What he had initially dismissed as professional eagerness was now so obviously a crush that even the office ficus had likely noticed. He didn’t mind admirers so long as they kept their distance, but this one was suffocating. Tonight, he had a plan: feed her to his wife .

He let her ramble, tuning her out while his colleagues began their usual background drone: glowing self-praise about the last quarter’s financial performance. Occasionally, Nanami nodded, just enough to seem engaged while maintaining an expression that screamed, I’d rather be anywhere else .

Then a peer from Finance leaned in, his smirk as oily as his hair gel. “You’re quite the magnet tonight, Nanami. What’s your secret?”

“Competence,” Nanami replied, without missing a beat.

The peer’s laugh faltered into a cough as he quickly excused himself. Events like this always managed to sap what little energy he had left after work. First, they stole every waking moment with deadlines and deliverables, then they expected polite socializing in his so-called free time. It was, in his opinion, borderline sadistic. He took another sip of his whiskey, wishing—not for the first time—that he hadn’t shown up. He didn’t much care to mingle, despite appearances. These events were breeding grounds for insincerity, where pleasantries masked ulterior motives. His colleagues jumped him, juniors seeking advice on everything from office politics to investment strategies, while his peers probed for weaknesses under the guise of camaraderie.

Then, previously flanked by armed bodyguards, she walked in.

He felt it before he saw it—the slight shift in the room’s energy, the way conversations seemed to falter for half a second. When his eyes finally found her, it was like everything else dimmed in comparison.

Time didn’t stop—not in some romanticized way, but it slowed just enough to emphasize her entrance. Classy, confident, and untouchable. The sound of her heels on marble cut through the hum of conversation, subtle but commanding. The red rubies on her dress flowed like molten lava, catching the chandeliers’ light with every step. The slit revealed long, toned legs that seemed almost deliberately designed to catch the attention of every person in the room. Her movements were languid but purposeful, as though she were fully aware that the entire party had turned their focus toward her and didn’t mind in the slightest. The siren-like glint in her eyes warned anyone brave enough to approach.

Nanami’s grip tightened imperceptibly on the whiskey glass, his chest rising and falling in a controlled breath. His gaze locked on her instantly, though he couldn’t pinpoint what drew him first—the way her dress hugged her or the quiet authority in her stride. One moment, he was half-listening to his coworkers drone about quotas; the next, he was captivated .

“Who is she?” The intern whispered, her tone laced with poorly concealed jelousy.

Nanami didn’t look away, his gaze steady and unreadable. “Trouble,” he murmured, his voice low and even.

She didn’t need to seek attention—it sought her. Women flocked to her, showering her with warm greetings and effusive compliments. She reciprocated their affection with gracious smiles and her charm disarming even the iciest socialites. The men weren’t as brave, unsure whether to admire her or cower under her gaze—her siren-like aura daring any man to try their luck.

Except for one idiot.

Fucking Gojo.

Nanami’s jaw tightened as his white-haired colleague made a spectacle of himself, wrapping his arms around her from behind like an old friend reunited. Her face scrunched in irritation, a flash of disdain that Nanami couldn’t help but savor. But then she turned, her expression softening as she saw who it was. To his dismay, she hugged him back.

Nanami’s fingers curled harder around the glass of whiskey, the gold trim biting into his palm. Jealousy wasn’t his style— not like he wasn’t already married . But Gojo was a different story. The man had a knack for testing limits, his arrogance as boundless as his charm.

She, on the other hand, was the embodiment of contradictions: sharp yet soft, fun yet untouchable, her elegant demeanor veiling something far more dangerous. As if on cue, her eyes scanned the room lazily, not in search of anyone but allowing people to search for her.

And then their gazes locked. Her lips quirked into a knowing smirk, a silent dare.

Nanami’s breath hitched. Her smile—a challenge, a tease, a warning. His pulse quickened, a subtle betrayal against his otherwise calm exterior.

The intern beside him shifted uncomfortably, clearly feeling the weight of the unspoken connection between the two. Nanami almost pitied her. Almost. Definitely not.

His focus remained on the woman; she approached the bar with the kind of confidence that made the world rearrange itself around her. Even the bartender seemed to straighten his posture, offering her a champagne flute without so much as a question. Her long fingers, adorned with a curious glove-like jewelry piece , brushed the glass as she murmured her thanks, her tone effortlessly polite but laced with disinterest.

He didn’t notice the minutes slipping by; time blurred under the soft hum of chandeliers and the muted conversations he was no longer part of. Her every movement consumed his attention, the sway of her hips in that red silk dress a calculated provocation.

When she slipped through the gilded archway leading toward the bathrooms, his decision was already made.

Keeping his drink down, Nanami barely registered the figure stepping into his path until he heard the familiar sing-song voice that grated worse than nails on glass. “Nanami! Where’s your wife? Haven’t seen her yet tonight,” his rival cooed, wearing his trademark smug grin that Nanami fantasized about erasing.

“Still at work,” Nanami replied smoothly, his tone devoid of emotion but cutting enough to silence further prying. He didn’t slow, leaving behind muttered speculations about his sudden interest in someone other than his wife .

The hallways had the richness of the place amplified. The further he moved from the party, the quieter it became, the noise receding into a distant hum. The mansion’s grandeur became starker in the silence. High ceilings arched above, their ornate crown moldings gilded with gold that caught the soft light of sconces. The black marble floors shimmered under his polished shoes, stretching endlessly toward the private quarters. Staff passed like shadows flitting through the ethereal glow of this labyrinthine estate.

He paused in front of the bathroom door, glossy black with intricate gold fixtures, left slightly ajar as though inviting him in. The faintest sliver of light spilled out against the marble.

Knock. Knock. Two taps. Firm. Purposeful.

The response was immediate. The door cracked open, and before he could utter a word, her hand shot out, grabbing his shirt and yanking him inside with a force that surprised him.

The door closed behind them with a soft thud as he was shoved against it, followed by the decisive click of the lock. Her scent lingered in the air, both grounding and intoxicating, cutting through the bathroom . Then her mouth was on his, hot and demanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Not even a hello?” He murmured against her lips, his tone low, strained, yet laced with wry humor.

“Hello,” she whispered mockingly, her voice syrupy sweet, before pulling him back down. Her nails grazed the nape of his neck, sending an electric jolt through him.

Oh, she was definitely a siren. He thought as she drew him in with effortless ease, leaving him half-convinced she could drag him into the ocean and he’d thank her for it.

Her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, deft yet impatient. When one refused to cooperate, she let out a soft growl, yanking hard enough to send buttons scattering across the tiled floor.

“They’re custom,” Nanami deadpanned, his voice thick with effort. “My wife chose them.”

“No wonder they’re ugly,” she shot back, her smirk as sharp as a blade. “Send me the bill.”

Her sass drew a low chuckle from him, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. She was cutting through his composure so easily, leaving him disarmed in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

In a swift motion, he flipped their positions, pinning her against the full-length mirror. Her front hit the glass with a muted thud, the chill drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. For a moment, he held her there, his gaze sweeping over her—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, pupils blown wide with a mix of defiance and desire.

His reflection caught his eye in the mirror—a man undone, his hair disheveled, his usually sharp expression softened by raw hunger. He barely recognized himself, and for some reason, that didn’t bother him.

“Temptress. You’ve already got me obsessed,” his voice dark as he leaned down to press his lips to the curve of her ear.

“Stop talking,” she countered, her tone dripping with impatience. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him groan softly.

He obliged.

The kiss turned feral, finesse abandoned in favor of raw, unfiltered need. His hands roamed, the fabric slipping against her skin like water.

Once she turned in his arms, more of his buttons clattered to the floor, the sound echoing in the small space as she ran her fingers on his chest then abs. The room filled with their gasps and whispered curses, the sterile luxury of the bathroom a backdrop to the pandemonium unfolding. She took off her handpiece, chucking it on the counter just to feel his skin against her fingertips unhindered.

Her scent was everywhere now, filling his lungs, embedding itself in his memory. It was familiar in a way, like déjà vu dancing on the edge of recognition. Unsettling, magnetic, and impossible to ignore.

“Careful,” she murmured against his lips, her voice teasing. “You might just fall for me.”

Nanami pulled back slightly, enough to meet her gaze, his expression a mix of annoyance and reluctant amusement. “Highly unlikely,” he replied, deadpan, though the corner of his mouth betrayed the faintest smirk.

“Your loss,” she quipped, her voice light, but her hands circled around his shoulders, pulling him back toward her.

Whatever this was—whatever dangerous game they were playing—Nanami knew one thing: he didn’t want it to end.

The bathroom’s air carried a subtle mix of sandalwood, bergamot and cedarwood, understated yet lingering—a scent that seemed designed to make every breath feel curated, the kind of understated opulence that whispered money rather than screamed it

Yet for all its grandeur, it wasn't the decor that took center stage. It was the mess unfolding next to the countertop, where passion replaced polish.

Nanami now had her pressed against the large, mirror-backed counter, its polished surface now marred with the aftermath of their urgency—smudged fingerprints, scattered toiletries, and the faint condensation of their mingled heat. The cool marble against her back seemed to amplify the fire between them.

His grip was firm yet restrained, one hand steadying her thigh while the other trailed upward, tracing the daring slit of her dress with deliberate slowness. His fingers paused at the neckline, the silk sliding under his touch like water. His hold spoke of possession, but his eyes, half-lidded and burning, betrayed something deeper—curiosity, defiance, and a hunger he rarely let surface.

She kissed him again, her lips a demand he had no intention of denying. Teeth scraped against his lower lip, the sting pulling a soft groan from him that melted into a low chuckle. His hands roamed with precision, finding her waist, her hips, her breasts—each touch firm, unapologetic, and met with a sharp inhale or muffled moan. Every touch was a battle for dominance, each moment teetering on the edge of control and disarray.

He lifted her with ease onto the countertop in one fluid motion. The chilled mirror behind her elicited a gasp as her dress slid higher at her thighs. Her legs tightened instinctively around him, pulling him closer.

“Not bad,” she teased breathlessly, her voice a mix of amusement and provocation.

Nanami’s lips quirked into a rare smirk as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “I aim to impress.”

Her laugh was soft, intoxicating, and far too knowing. “You’re getting there.”

Her scent enveloped him now—a crisp, briny ocean breeze tinged with something wild and woody, a sharp contrast to the muted, earthy warmth of the bathroom. It was a siren’s scent, designed to disarm, to enthrall, and it worked far too well.

The sounds of their frenzy filled the room, chaotic yet rhythmic. Her nails dragged along his back, leaving faint crescent imprints as if marking her territory.

Then, with a devilish smirk, he dropped to his knees, his large hands splaying across the backs of her thighs.

“On your knees already?” She started, her voice faltering as he pushed the fabric of her dress higher. His lips ghosted over her inner thigh, his breath warm and teasing.

“You talk too much,” he murmured, his tone flat but edged with mischief.

Her laugh turned into a gasp as he tore through the delicate lace of her underwear with his teeth, the sound of ripping fabric punctuated by her sharp intake of breath.

His mouth found her core, hot and demanding; his tongue moved with deliberate precision, drawing broken whispers from her lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, long nails digging into his scalp as she arched into him, every nerve alight with sensation.

Each touch was a battle for dominance, each moment teetering on the edge of control and chaos. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her steady as she raised her head, her eyes wide at the sight of him.

When his fingers joined the fray—one, then two, then three—she let out a muffled cry, her hands trembling as they gripped his hair tighter. The rhythm turned torturous, each stroke a ploy to keep her teetering on the edge.

“Quiet,” he murmured against her, though the command was half-hearted at best.

Her laugh, shaky and breathless, cut through the haze. “Make me.”

He obliged, taking off his shirt & shoving it into her mouth to muffle her moans.

The room, a masterpiece of design and decadence, bore silent witness to their undoing. The perfection of its lines, the care in its curation—all of it had melted away, leaving only raw, unbridled chaos in its place.

When she finally collapsed against the mirror, her breath came in uneven bursts, fogging the glass behind her. Her flushed face, her dress still bunched at her waist, chest rising and falling as aftershocks wracked her frame left her looking like Mayhem personified. Still, he didn’t stop, his tongue lapping up every drop of her release like she was the finest wine.

Her body trembled, hips bucking against his mouth. His tongue and fingers were moving in perfect harmony. Her mewles grew higher in pitch, her body arching further as the tension began to pool in her belly.

Nanami’s grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her hips to hold her steady as her body trembled beneath him. Her moans, muffled by his discarded shirt, vibrated against his chest as he felt the waves of her release pulse through her. She clawed his scalp, a claim he wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t enjoy.

Few moments passed, & Nanami stood, brushing the back of his hand against his lips, catching the faint taste of her. He was the picture of disheveled restraint—his hair tousled, his chest bare, and his trousers hanging low on his hips. The hunger in his eyes, however, was anything but restrained.

His gaze lingered on her as he reached for the straps of her dress. Tugging them down, he exposed her bare chest, the fabric sliding away like water until it pooled uselessly at her waist. Her breasts bounced with the movement, drawing a low growl from him that rumbled deep in his chest.

“Perfect,” he muttered, his voice gravelly as he leaned down. His lips closed over one breast, flicking her nipple with his toung, while his hand found the other, his touch alternating between firm and teasing. She gasped, her back arching off the mirror as he bit gently before soothing with his tongue, leaving her gasping & mumbling incoherently, her voice ragged but threaded with laughter—the kind that would have thrown a lesser man off balance. “You’re enjoying this way too much.” She spoke against the fabric in her mouth.

He paused, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “You started it.”

She smirked, sharper than the edge of the counter, biting into her legs. “And I’ll finish it.” She gestured.

Her hands fumbled with his waistband, still trembling but determined. The flicker of impatience in her eyes was oddly endearing, though he’d never admit it. Nanami stepped back slightly, watching as she struggled with his belt, her fingers clumsy but relentless, then the same belt clattered to the floor, the sound echoing in the small space.

When she finally freed his cock, her hand paused holding it, her eyes widening as her lips parted slightly.

“Cat got your tongue?” He teased, his voice dropping into that smooth, sardonic tone.

“Shut up,” she muttered, voice muffled by the shirt.

He bit down lightly on her neck, one hand busy kneading her breast, while the other left faint crescent moons in the flesh of her ass.

Despite her reservations, her hand moved, slow at first, tentative strokes exploring him with a curiosity that bordered on reverence. The low "fuck" that escaped his lips emboldened her, and her fingers became bolder—squeezing at the tip, letting her thumb tease the slit, earning sharp hisses from him.

His control, usually ironclad, wavered, catching himself before her touch unraveled him entirely.

“Enough,” he growled, his hand wrapping around hers as he guided his cock to her.

She braced herself, her legs parted further instinctively as Nanami growled, guiding his cock toward her slick entrance. She mewled softly as he deliberately didn’t push in, instead teasing her, the thick head of his cock gliding against her swollen folds. The wet slide was maddening, the tension building as he refused to give her what she wanted. Her breath coming in shallow bursts as the tension coiled between them like a spring wound too tightly. Her eyes flashed with impatience, and the look of anger made him smirk through his own restraint. Then she hissed something, muffled, her voice low and threaded with irritation.

Nanami’s smirk was infuriating. “Patience.”

That patience didn’t last long. With a sharp thrust, he pushed inside her, his jaw clenching as she clenched around him, her walls tight and pulling him deeper. He moved slowly at first, letting her adjust; the intensity of the moment mirrored in their matched gasps and muffled curses.

Once he was fully sheathed, the restraint snapped. He withdrew almost completely before slamming back in, forcing a loud, uncontrollable moan from her.

His pace turned brutal, his hips slamming against hers with a force that made the marble countertop tremble beneath them. Her cries morphed into curses, each one sharp and biting, and directed at him with a venom that only fueled his hunger.

“You—oh my God—” she let out a muffled gasp, head falling back against the mirror as he drove her higher.

Nanami leaned down, yanking the shirt from her mouth as he captured her lips in a messy, heated kiss. Her teeth immediately bite his lower lip, drawing blood, but he didn’t care. Their tongues clashed, the kiss more battle than affection, each one pushing and pulling, neither willing to yield.

Breaking away to catch his breath, Nanami's thrusts didn’t falter.

“Still talking?” he muttered against her lips.

“Shut up,” she replied, biting him again, the taste of him & herself lingering on her tongue.

His hips slammed against hers, forcing cries from her throat. Her nails raked down his back, desperate, as though she needed them to fuse on a molecular level.

Despite his relentless pace, his lips softened, trailing kisses along her jawline, down her neck, and finally to her breasts. He nipped and sucked at the delicate skin; his attention split between breaking her apart with his cock and worshipping the parts of her he loved most.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room—a brutal rhythm that matched the pounding of her heartbeat. His hands roamed over her body, his nails leaving faint crescent moons in her thighs, her back, wherever he could reach.

Her body arched into him, trembling & walls tightening as another wave of pleasure threatened to overtake her. He knew she was close; his hand slid between them, his fingers finding her clit and circling it with a precision that left her gasping.

Her reaction was instant as she came with a sharp, keening cry, muffled when he cupped a hand over her mouth, entire body clenching around him as her nails dug into his shoulders.

“She’s sucking me in... so tight,” he murmured, voice hoarse, as his control finally broke. Movements turning erratic as he buried himself deep, his groan muffled against her neck. His eyes fluttered shut as his own climax surged through him, leaving him breathless and trembling. He barely managed to catch himself before collapsing onto her as the aftershocks rolled through him.

Two forces of chaos colliding. Neither of them moved, just staying for a bit; she rubbed his back as they caught their breaths, the occasional tremor running through her as she adjusted to the lingering sensitivity.

The bathroom was a battlefield of indulgence and chaos. Perfume bottles lay toppled on the black marble counter, the delicate crystal shimmering under the ambient lighting. A faint mist lingered in the air, clouding the oversized mirror that stretched from floor to ceiling, capturing distorted reflections of disheveled hair, flushed skin, and heat that had yet to fully dissipate. The mingling scents of bergamot, cedar, and salt—the sharp tang of the ocean—clung to the air, layered with the undeniable intimacy of their aftermath. Despite the mess around them, the silence between them felt clean, untouched by the outside world.

Soon her fingers were idly tracing patterns on his back, grazing over faint red marks she’d left moments before. When she finally broke the silence, her voice was teasing but warm, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Your technique hasn’t changed.”

Nanami froze, the words cutting through the lingering haze like a cold blade. He pulled back just enough to study her face, his brows furrowing. “What?”

“You heard me,” she replied, her tone deliberate and light as she brushed her fingers along his jaw. Her touch was deceptively soft, almost disarming.

Before he could spiral into overthinking, she laughed—a sound both melodic and cutting, slicing through his composure with surgical precision. “Relax, Mr. Nanami,” she teased, her lips curling into a smirk. “I’m just grateful for the first million you invested in my company when no one else would even hear me out.”

The tension in his shoulders eased as realization dawned, corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest smile. “Mrs. L/N,” he said dryly, his voice laced with equal parts amusement and exasperation. “Should I prepare my chequebook again?”

“Always,” she quipped, her smirk softening as she leaned up to kiss him. Her lips brushed against his with a familiarity that belied the game they’d been playing all evening.

“You’re still mine, Kento,” she murmured against his ear—almost biting them, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down his spine.

Straightening himself, hand lingering at her waist, he pulled her closer to hold as the reality of her presence grounded him. When they finally pulled apart, her tone shifted. “Nice house, by the way.”

“Thank you, Mrs. L/N,” he replied, his thumb brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. The simple gesture felt intimate, grounding, a contrast to the disarray they’d left in their wake. He arched a brow, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Though I do have to ask—what was the dress for?”

Her smirk deepened, her silence deliberate.

“Y/N,” he pressed, his voice carrying a mix of affection and exasperation. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“I was informed that you looked miserable out there,” she said simply, shrugging with nonchalance that only made her look more self-assured. “Your coworkers are vultures. I couldn’t just stand by and watch you suffer.”

His exhale was slow, measured, but his forehead dropped against hers, his voice softening. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me plenty,” she countered, her hands sliding over his chest with a teasing confidence. “But I’m not done yet. My company just hit a billion-dollar valuation, which means—"she smirked, her tone mock-serious—"you can finally quit working for those corporate overlords. Effective immediately.”

Nanami blinked, her words settling in slowly. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off with a single raised finger.

“And don’t start with the ‘backup plan’ speech,” she added, rolling her eyes in dramatic exasperation. “I’ve secured enough for the next fifteen generations to sit around and squander. You’re free, Ken. ”

He let out a long exhale, relief washing over him like a tide pulling him out to calmer seas. His hands tightened gently at her waist as he pulled her closer, his forehead brushing hers again.

“I can finally retire,” he mused, a rare chuckle breaking the steady timbre of his voice. “What a dream.”

Her grin was wicked and teasing. “Don’t worry, I’ll deck you out with butlers, drivers, private pilots—the works.”

He shook his head, laughing softly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” she said, her voice lighter now, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before stepping down. She fixed her dress, the fabric shimmering under the soft lighting as if it had never been touched. After quickly rinsing & drying her hands, she shuffled for something in the drawer below the sink counter, then gestured Nanami to turn around, who obliged and then winced as she sprayed antiseptic healing spray on her nail scratches on his back. Then, putting it back with one hand while she rubbed his shoulder with the other, soon she adorned her handpiece again.

“Now, pack your bags. We’re going on a month-long vacation. We’ve barely seen each other this quarter.” Her tone practical, though the playful glint in her eyes was still sparkling while Nanami, who knelt on one knee to zip up her askew heels with a gentle touch. This was a stark contrast to his usual stoic demeanor; he radiated a quiet eagerness to serve her, even if she had never asked for it—or even forbade him from kneeling—for anyone, including herself. His care for her was unwavering, as he found joy in these small devotions.

Raising up to his full height, Nanami tilted his head, arching a brow. “When do we leave?”

“An hour.” Her smirk was maddeningly smug, the kind that always made him want to both kiss her and roll his eyes. “Don’t worry about clothes—we’ll buy what we need when we get there.”

His frown deepened slightly, his gaze flicking toward the door. “The house is still full of people.”

She waved a hand dismissively, her confidence unshakable. “The white-haired menace can handle it.”

As if summoned, a sharp knock echoed against the ornate black and gold bathroom door.

“Nanami,” Gojo’s unmistakable voice called out, muffled yet infuriatingly cheerful. “I know you told me not to disturb you, but if you want to leave on time, you should probably come out now.”

Nanami groaned audibly, burying his face in her hair. “I hate that he knows us so well. Or worse, that he was probably hovering outside.”

Her laugh bubbled up, light and unrestrained, as she turned to press a soft kiss to his nose. “Good thing no one will know,” she teased, her tone laced with mischief as she nodded toward the party still raging beyond the door.

“Small mercies,” he muttered. His hand reached down, scooping up her ripped panties. He shoved them into his pocket—a gesture equal parts practical and ridiculous. Housekeeping didn’t need to discover that.

He reached for his ruined shirt & still-ok belt while his cufflinks were probably lost to the similarly colored lines in the bathroom floor’s marble. Sighing, he shrugged the shirt on. With most of the buttons broken, the fabric barely clung to him, but he managed enough to appear vaguely presentable, then did his belt & washed his hands. Before stepping out, he winked at her, his rare smirk making her laugh again as she leaned on the counter, ogling him.

Walking out of the bathroom, Nanami was immediately engulfed by the sheer scale of the mansion. The vaulted ceilings soared above him, an intricate lattice of brass and black lines reminiscent of sharp geometry. Recessed lighting cast a warm, almost ethereal glow over the polished marble floors, their obsidian surface streaked with veins of gold that seemed to shimmer with every step.

Security was seamlessly integrated into the decor—discreet cameras nestled within decorative sconces, motion sensors hidden within the intricate carvings of doorframes, and biometric panels that blended effortlessly with the black lacquered walls.

Gojo leaned casually against the wall near the bathroom door, his smirk as sharp as the lapels on his bespoke electric blue suit. “Well, well,” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. “Looks like someone had a productive break.”

Nanami cast him a withering glare, brushing past him without a word.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo called after him, clearly undeterred. “Your secret’s safe with me. Well Mostly .”

Nanami strode into his bedroom, its absurd luxury understated yet undeniable once he unlocked it’s door with his thumb. Warm recessed lighting bathed the space in a golden hue, highlighting the polished marble floors and the California king bed draped in silk sheets that whispered decadence with every subtle fold. The walls were a study in contrasts—one side a sweeping expanse of black glass overlooking the estate, the other adorned with minimalist art deco patterns in gold and dark maroon.

A walk-in closet occupied one corner of the room, its glossy black doors sliding open with a faint hum. Rows of designer suits, pressed shirts, and tailored trousers moved along tracks, neatly organized by color, fabric, and season. It wasn’t just a closet—it was an AI-driven sartorial fortress.

Gojo trailed behind Nanami, Martini glass in hand, his ever-present grin practically glowing under the warm light of the bedroom.

Nanami shrugged off his ruined shirt, revealing faint nail marks trailing down his back.

Gojo’s exaggerated gasp was immediate. “Knew you were freaks,” he declared, grinning like a cat who’d just discovered a fresh bowl of cream.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nanami replied, his tone dry as he waited for the first shirt the AI closet presented.

The automated system whirred softly, its sleek black panels sliding open to reveal a neatly arranged selection of tailored clothing. The closet’s AI chimed in, its voice smooth and masculine: “Good evening, Mr. Nanami. May I suggest the Maurizio Miri blue Sam Arold , double-breasted blazer for optimal sophistication?”

“No, a white shirt will be enough for now. Thank you.” Nanami replied smoothly as the closet handed him the shirt.

Gojo’s eyes lit up. “Hold up, your closet talks?”

Nanami buttoned up the crisp white shirt, the fabric molding to him like it had been made yesterday, which it probably had been. A subtle reminder of how far he—and this house—stood from anything resembling average. “Of course it talks. Everything here does. Wife is particular about it,” he muttered, casually pulling out a certain incriminating piece of fabric from his pocket & tossing it into the hidden incinerator bin while Gojo eyed the AI.

Then Gojo leaned closer to the closet; his curiosity piqued. “Hey, Mr. Closet—do you take orders? I need something that makes me look like a billionaire without actually trying. Extra points if it comes with a holographic logo of the Gojo Clan.” Gojo didn’t have such bad likes; he just enjoyed being a menace.

The AI responded without missing a beat. “My name is Winston, & I’m sorry, sir. My services are exclusive to Mr. Nanami. While I assure you, no attire could enhance perfection.”

Nanami’s lips twitched as he fought back a smirk. “Even the closet knows you’re insufferable.”

“Hey, I like this guy!” Gojo shot back, pointing at the sleek black panel like it was a long-lost friend. “At least he has taste.”

The AI, apparently more than willing to engage, added, “Taste, sir, is precisely what you lack.”

Nanami turned away, struggling to suppress his laughter, as Gojo gawked. “Traitor! I’m officially boycotting this brand,” Gojo declared, though his curiosity kept him glued to the closet. “Btw what brand are you.”

Nanami smacked his arm. “Do you forget my wife invents AIs for a living, among other things?”

Gojo shrugged, “I didn’t know it was one of hers.”

As Nanami folded his sleeves up again, Gojo shot one last look at the closet. “You’re lucky I’m a forgiving man, Mr. Closet-Winston. Once I babysit this house, bet you’ll miss me when I leave.”

“I highly doubt that,” the AI replied, its tone impossibly smooth.

Gojo huffed, muttering something about finding an AI closet with better taste, while Nanami finally allowed a small smirk to surface.

Once out of the closet, Gojo chirped, “Aren’t you going to thank me for organizing this amazing party?”

Nanami took the whisky glass Gojo handed him, savoring a slow sip. “Thank you, Gojo, for organizing this party,” he said, his voice flat. “It’s not like we paid for it or anything.”

“Fair,” Gojo replied, recovering quickly with a shrug. “But I still expect to cash in the favor someday.”

Nanami nodded, flooding his sleeves with practiced precision before striding back toward the party.

Gojo followed on his heels like an overenthusiastic puppy, Martini in hand. Then looking back at the sentinel closet, he mused. “I need one of these. Think the wife will help me place an order?”

“She’s not your wife,” Nanami deadpanned, savouring the whisky burn as he sipped.

Once they had stepped into the grand ballroom, Nanami’s gaze swept over the room. Gojo, meanwhile, leaned in conspiratorially.

“So,” he began, his grin as infuriating as ever, “how was she?”

His gaze immediately found her. She stood along the far wall; an expansive bar carved from obsidian and gold stood like a centerpiece, its surface laden with bottles of rare vintages.

He didn’t falter in his reply, expression flat. “She’s a woman, Gojo. Not a secret.”

Gojo smirked as Nanami ignored the conspiratorial knowing smirks and whispers that seemed to surround him.

His gaze lingered as she laughed warmly, her head tilted slightly, the sound unguarded and genuine. She was speaking to two women he vaguely recognized as the CTO and CFO of her company, their expressions a mix of respect and admiration. For a moment, he simply watched. Despite himself, Nanami felt a rare sense of pride.

Just as he was about to make his way to her, a voice sliced through the moment.

“Nanami-san! There you are!”

The same intern with an unfortunate crush on him had caught sight of him again, waving over one of her equally annoying cohorts, a smug backstabbing bitch of a coworker Nanami didn’t even bother to remember the name of. They approached like vultures, the intern’s over-the-top enthusiasm clashing painfully with the coworker’s grimey smirk.

“Nanami-san!” she chirped, clasping her hands together. “This house is incredible! You must feel so inspired here.”

“I feel inspired to have another drink,” Nanami deadpanned, raising his glass slightly before taking a sip.

The coworker, clearly fishing for gossip, leaned in. “Yeah, no kidding. So, where’s your wife we’ve all heard so much about?” He practically sang the last part, his tone dripping with mockery. “Must be so busy to miss an event like this.”

Listening to this, Gojo moved closer to Nanami’s side like chaos incarnate, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Oh, you haven’t met her yet?” he asked, his grin practically weaponized. “Tsk, tsk, Nanami, keeping secrets from your best friends .”

The coworker scowled at the jab.

The intern blinked, momentarily stunned into silence. Nanami bit back a smirk, swirling his whisky lazily in his glass.

When the intern finally recovered, her tone turned defensive. “Well, he’s never mentioned her to me!”

Nanami’s expression darkened, his patience stretching to its breaking point. One thing he wasn’t—had never been—was unfaithful. And this implication, no matter how cluelessly delivered, crossed a line.

Yet Gojo wasn’t finished. He turned his full attention to the intern, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper loud enough for everyone to hear. “You know, he does talk about her all the time. But I guess you two must not hang out much, huh? Just acquaintances, then.”

“Excuse me?” Nanami’s voice was sharp, each syllable cutting.

The intern, oblivious to the shift in tone, pressed on. “You never mentioned you were married—”

“Please,” arching a brow, he interrupted, his expression one of detached amusement. “Do not imply that I’ve hidden my marriage. I’ve been married for years and have never avoided speaking about my wife when asked. If you’re unaware, perhaps that says more about you than it does about me.” Each word measured and sharp. It’s not like he cared to keep his job anymore anyway.

The intern blinked, stunned into silence.

Gojo erupted into laughter, clapping him on the back. “Kento, you’re killing it tonight. Who’s next on the chopping block?”

Without waiting for a response, Nanami brushed past them, his focus already shifting back to her. Gojo, naturally, wasn’t done yet. Turning back with a smirk, he delivered one final dig.

“He talks about her all the time with his friends. Trust me, I’d know since I’m his best friend. I know all his secrets ,” he said lightly. “Guess you’re just colleagues.” Nanami could hear the mockery directed at his coworkers, with a hint of possessiveness over their friendship in Gojo’s voice, along with the intern’s sputtering, behind him.

Once he approached, his hand slid around her waist, the gesture subtle yet unmistakable. It wasn’t a public claim so much as a quiet reassurance, a tether grounding him in the chaos of the room.

She turned to him, her smirk softening into something more intimate as she acknowledged the unspoken exchange.

“Hello,” he murmured, inclining his head with a faint smile toward the women she’d been speaking with. They were better than his coworkers; hence they were hired.

As Gojo approached them behind Nanami, she introduced him smoothly, her tone warm yet commanding. “Ladies, my closest friend, Gojo Satoru.”

Gojo’s professional smirk slipped into place with practiced ease. “A pleasure,” he said simply, his arm resting on Nanami’s shoulder again.

The conversation progressed for a bit before the sound of glass clinking drew their attention.

“Everyone!” Gojo’s voice rang out, cheerful and uncontainable. He was sitting atop the bar, manspreading, grin wide enough to rival the chandelier’s glow. “A toast to the lovely couple!”

Heads turned toward them, though many had already been stealing glances at her all evening while others were glaring daggers at Nanami.

Nanami cleared his throat, voice steady, effortlessly commanding the room. “Thank you all for coming to our housewarming party,” he began, his tone formal but with a warmth that felt uncharacteristic. His hand rested securely on her waist. “For those of you who don’t know, this is Y/N L/N. She’s my wife. She’s the one who bought us this house.”

A ripple of polite claps followed, though Nanami wasn’t finished.

“She hasn’t visited my office because she’s been working tirelessly on her company, Curse Cop, which, as of today, has officially reached a billion-dollar valuation.” He paused, his voice softening as he glanced at her, unguarded admiration flickering across his face. “Please, drink to your heart’s content, because starting tomorrow, I’ll be on vacation with her—and I’ll also be stepping down as Finance Director to spend more time with my wife, as I promised her.”

The room erupted in applause and a few ‘awws’ from mostly female guests, though Nanami barely noticed. His focus remained on her as she looked up at him, her expression a blend of amusement and affection.

From somewhere behind them, he heard whispers, envy poorly concealed.

“How’d he even get with her?” one muttered.

“It makes sense,” another replied begrudgingly. “He’s the kind of man every woman wants.”

But none of it mattered. Nanami leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips, as if the room around them didn’t exist.

For him, in that moment, it didn’t.

Soon the evening had progressed—Nanami was comfortably leaning against the bar, whisky in hand, Gojo, still on top of the bar, flanking him as usual, when the intern caught sight of Y/N between them.

She stumbled her way toward her, clearly drunk, with newfound boldness, her barely-there dress doing little to enhance her sense of professionalism. Nanami’s lips twitched as he watched the scene unfold, hiding his amusement behind his glass. He wasn’t much for unnecessary public fights, but he was waiting for this one since she had really become a nuisance for him over the months, hence the reason she was invited today.

“Y/N,” Gojo whispered, sidling closer to her as she inquired about the launch of their latest multiplayer game with the COO of her company. “See that girl over there?”

Pausing, she glanced over, her brow arching slightly as she clocked the intern making a beeline toward her.

“That one’s been after Kento for months,” Gojo murmured, his grin wicked. “Unrequited coffee deliveries, surprise lunches... the works. You’re about to have front-row seats to her grand finale.” He had noticed it all while visiting Nanami’s office, along with Nanami’s look of frustration when she wouldn’t take the hint and leave him alone.

Y/N didn’t miss a beat, her expression remaining poised as she turned fully to face the intern. The air around her seemed to shift, her unapproachable aura sharpening to something razor-edged.

The intern, blissfully unaware, extended a hand, her confidence teetering on arrogance. “Hi! I’m Nat. I work closely with Nanami-san in finance. It’s so great to finally meet you.”

Y/N’s gaze flicked briefly to the outstretched hand before returning to the intern’s face, her expression neutral but distinctly unimpressed. “Oh?” she said coolly. “And what are you to him?”

The intern faltered, her hand dropping slightly. “I... like I said, I work with Nanami-san! He’s been so helpful to me in the office. Such a great mentor.”

Turning his head from his vantage point, Nanami’s smirk widened as he took another slow sip of whisky. He had actively avoided helping her since he discovered her hidden agenda.

“Is that so?” Y/N replied, tilting her head slightly. “And what exactly have you learned from him?”

The intern brightened, eager to elaborate. “Oh, just... everything, really! He’s so dedicated and focused. I can see why you married him.”

There was a pause—a beat of silence that stretched just long enough to become uncomfortable. Then Y/N smiled, and it wasn’t kind.

“I see,” she said, her tone dripping with polite venom. “And yet, here you are, at a party in our house, introducing yourself to me like you’re a stranger. How odd for someone who claims to work so ‘closely’ with my husband.”

The intern’s expression wavered, a flicker of panic breaking through her confident facade. “Oh, I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean what?” Y/N interrupted smoothly, her smile widening. “To sound presumptuous? To overstep? Or to assume familiarity where there is none?”

Gojo, now openly laughing, gestured to Nanami, “Remind me never to piss your wife off.”

The intern stammered something unintelligible before finally scoffing & retreating, her confidence crumbling as she melted back into the crowd.

Y/N turned back to the COO, now flanked by CTO and CFO without so much as a backward glance as they dragged her off to introduce a potential investor, the conversation resuming as if nothing had happened.

Turning straight, Nanami finally let his smirk show, raising his glass toward Y/N in a silent toast.

She caught his eye, the faintest curve of her lips betraying her amusement, before she returned her attention to her companions.

“Worth every penny,” Gojo muttered under his breath, clinking his glass against Nanami’s.

“Agreed,” Nanami replied, his tone calm but his eyes glinting with mirth.

A/N: You thought Kento would cheat huh ☜(ˆ▿ˆc) Thanks for diving into this tangled mess of lust & love. If you caught the twist & liked it (or even hated it), drop a comment. I live for your chaos & crave your feedback like Nanami craves his wife. 🖤

Masterlist

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formylovetodaryldixon · 18 hours ago

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"The truth - Part 2." Daryl Dixon imagine.

(Not my gif)

Alone in the place she always loved, Daryl finally tells her the words he always wanted to say to her. Will he finally be able to propose to her?

You can read part 1 here "The truth - Part 1." And if you want to read about their daughter, you can do it here "My everything." and "For life."

A/N: For my part, my stories will always have a happy ending, so you know what to expect hehe sorry to use she again! (This is probably really cheesy, but what can i say? I love cheesy things) Also, i used the word cockblocker, sorry!

A younger version of (Y/N) sat in the bar, leaving her backpack on the floor before asking for a drink: but because she was ignoring the world around her, lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the curious gaze of the young man a few steps away.

Daryl blinked taking in all of her, because she was pretty, like, beautiful, and so interesting to look at with her gaze in her open book, part of her hair covering her face with an attractive concentration on it. He squinted: because in that part of the country there were only mountains, forests and miles of open countryside —Not to mention the occasional crime, so it was strange for him to find someone like her in that boring but dangerous place.

But she looked like a mystery, like a piece of art in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Every now and then, Daryl turns a little bit to steal glances at her.

The open road is about to end in a few minutes, and Daryl, in the company of his thoughts, feels a certain sadness for having to wake her up. With her arm resting on the window, her cheek pressing against her hand and part of her hair covering her face, he can't help but imagine her back as that person, only younger, that he met at the bar that night. Despite the time, she was still the same, maybe with some monsters in her mind and a slightly heavier backpack to carry on her shoulders, (however, everyone had them), but, even so, (Y/N) hadn't lost her essence, always being the same strong but caring person.

When those minutes alone are over, Daryl turns off the car's engine and turns to her.

“Peach? Hey, we're here.” He moves her gently, his voice deep but full of affection. “Open yer eyes, sweetheart.”

His voice brings her back to reality, and (Y/N) opens her eyes slowly. It is not yet dawn and the shadows of the night are not yet swallowed by the bright sun, but when she looks to her right, the unmistakable sound of the waves roaring and crashing against the shore immediately attracts her attention. It is then that she realizes where she is: near a beach that smells of salt —of salt, freedom and of inner peace; because for her, the beach had a unique and wonderful feel, because it was wild and noisy, and in a way she always thought it was a good rest for an exhausted body and a cornered mind.

“Hey, you’ve got to be kidding me.” (Y/N) says softly and smiles breathlessly at him before looking out the window again, her eyes filling with life.

At that small gesture that fills his world, his chest swells with joy, with a nervous tickle reminding him that he’s still alive, and that she’s still alive too. Daryl smiles a little, and his features soften like when he’s not scared or angry, but deep down, he’s clear that it’s all because of her.

“C’mon. It’s almost dawn.”

He grabs his backpack and crossbow from the back seat as (Y/N) opens her own door, waiting for him to be by her side to walk, their boots gently sinking into the sand. The shore is clear, he made sure of that. When they reach the place close to the edge where the waves end, Daryl makes a bold move and takes (Y/N)’s hand, the hand where the ring would be if she said yes, just to help her sit down.

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” She teases him, making him snort. But once there, waiting for the sun to wake up and shine on them again, (Y/N) looks in his direction. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I did.” Daryl replies quietly, looking into her eyes as well. “It’s been years since I took ya to the beach.”

For (Y/N), when her fears and insecurities overflowed the edge of her life and turned against her, suffocating and dangerous, her heart and mind searched for the nearest beach, if there was one nearby at that moment of anguish, because she would always found a warm refuge in the landscape that seemed to protect her like an umbrella every time a storm fell over the sky of her life. And he knew that, because he was the only one she told it to.

“…besides…” Daryl clears his throat, hoping not to sound as nervous as he is. “I hope ya know I will always care about ya, peach, that I will keep ya safe, even if ya can do it too.”

But in order not to fall too deep into silence, he takes something from his backpack and hands it to her, making her chuckle. (Y/N) looks at the fruit in her hand for a moment, and then her gaze turns back to him.

“You know? At first I thought you were making fun of me when you started calling me peach.”

Daryl chuckles, too.

“Have I ever made fun of ya? But to be honest with ya, I thought that if I did, ya would threaten to shoot me like ya did with ma brother.”

(Y/N) laughs.

“Him, maybe, but never you.” She looks away from him, focusing on the horizon that is about to change color.

Her heart races, innocently wondering if those words were somehow an attempt at flirting. But (Y/N) tries to let her nervousness dissipate when the first rays of the sun reach freedom, shining in the distance. For her, it is beautiful to witness that spectacle again in a world where beauty had been lost in the passage of time, the constant danger and deaths, but what (Y/N) ignores at that moment, is Daryl's gaze on her, observing her profile, part of her hair that frames her face, because for him, she is the true spectacle there, worthy of being admired with devotion.

“Ya miss it?” Daryl asks after a while, making her look at him. “Ya miss the life we had? The old apartment we shared?”

For a moment, the best times flash before her eyes.

“Yes, I do. Believe it or not, I liked the place, but I like the memories we made there more. You offered me a new life without knowing anything about me, a chance to start over, so, I felt like I had it all. But, you’re still here with me; maybe that’s why that feeling hasn’t changed.”

Daryl tries to say something, the beginning of a monologue he had prepared all the way there, but the moment her gaze leaves him to look back ahead, cruelly, the words threaten to die on his lips. His chest falls in defeat as he gives a deep exhale, which makes him question if he will be able to say it all.

Strike one.

After a while, she speaks again. However, she is nervous and unsure of bringing up that topic now, at that moment, but the thought is like a thorn in her finger, making her feel uncomfortable.

“Do you remember when we were at the prison?” (Y/N) looks back at him, trying not to laugh, and Daryl raises his gaze from the sand until he meets hers. “When Sean started… flirting with me I guess, and when you called me out on it, I told you that you were being a cockblocker…” (Y/N) lets out a small laugh, but she sees that he doesn’t find it that funny, so she tries to keep her composure, even though the memory and that word amuses her. “Do you think… you could do it again? This time for real.”

It doesn’t take long for Daryl to realize who she’s talking about: Spencer.

“Is that asshole giving ya trouble?” His brow furrows instantly, and a murderous look floods Daryl’s blue eyes.

“No! It’s not that, it’s just that…” (Y/N) frowns as well, as a thoughtful expression takes place on her face. “I don’t know how to turn him down without hurting his ego or something. I don’t know him that well, but he seems like the kind of person who’s pretty insistent until he gets what he wants, and somehow, Spencer thinks that…”

“He can get ya too.” Daryl says bitterly, but, even though in a few seconds he manages to calm down, a part of him can’t help but speak his thoughts out loud, with a somewhat accusatory tone. “I thought ya were interested in him.”

(Y/N) frowns.

“What gave you that idea?”

Daryl can’t help the jealousy on the tip of his tongue as he looks her straight in the eyes before answering, with that cold gaze he used to hold to protect himself from the pain.

“Dunno. Ya seemed very friendly with him these months since we got there.”

That accusatory tone doesn’t go unnoticed by her, and for a moment, (Y/N) is incredulous, as if his words weren’t real, but she knows they are. After so many years by his side, even though they weren’t together, (Y/N) had learned to read him like the books she used to read in the past. And although Daryl was and still is like a mystery, with that reserved personality of his, (Y/N) was able to see through him.

Jealousy is a powerful force.

“Are you accusing me of something, Daryl? Because as far as I remember, being friendly with the neighbors isn’t a crime.”

She’s challenging him, Daryl can see it clearly, because she knew very well that she hadn’t done anything wrong, that it was all in his imagination, that she had nothing to be ashamed of.

“No…” It’s then that his gaze softens, only because he knows he’s acting irrationally, because it’s his fear of losing her completely that drives him to behave like this. “Jus'… sorry. Jus' forget about it.”

Now it’s his gaze that abandons her.

Strike two.

After a long while, like an hour or two maybe, (Y/N) feels that the sea, which she had always believed to be therapeutic, had managed to take away all the bad and sad things that lived in her, the bad thoughts, the guilt, the losses, the deaths, leaving her only with a renewing feeling. And although (Y/N) knew well that that feeling would go away at some point, she is at peace with it lasting at least during the way back home.

If she could call it home.

“We should go now…” (Y/N) stands up, not looking him directly in the eyes this time. “I told Denise that we wouldn’t take long and we still have medicine from the last run that we have to organize.”

In that instant, Daryl feels that his only opportunity slips through his hands, like the sand that slips through his fingers, but he feels that something has changed in her, about him, something that only he could perceive. This time, (Y/N) takes a few steps forward as he gathers his things before standing up, walking behind her, watching her hair as it is swayed by the gentle morning breeze.

His heart beats with an overwhelming force, as if it threatened to stop at any moment, and his worst fears take shape before his eyes. Daryl was always a strong man, physically, but his insecurities were his weak point, a detail that he knew how to mask well until she came into his life, and then the incessant fear of feeling insufficient for her ate away at his soul, taking away the little sleep he once managed to get.

But Carol was right, he had to do it now, before she really lost hope in him, before she undertand it was time to move on.

It takes Daryl only a few steps to reach her, and his free hand catches hers, at the same time his body sticks to hers to prevent her from turning to look at him, dropping his things to the side. For a second, (Y/N) is startled, and her body flinches slightly as she feels his face hidden in her hair, something he used to do all the time since they were together.

“Please, jus'… listen to what I have to tell ya, okay? But don’t turn around yet. And if after that, yer answer is no, I want ya to know I always loved ya. Back then, now, and for the rest of ma life. I’m sorry I never told ya that before.” Daryl pulls away a little, his hand still holding hers. His voice is low, somewhat nervous, and maybe even unsure, because the constant fear still appears in front of him, more fearsome than a walker. “Ma life before ya was a fuckin' mess, I lived part of ma life without a purpose, jus' survivin' one more day, but when ya came along… ya were like that first ray of sunlight when it rises on the horizon, like that first breath after being submerged in the water for too long. With ya I felt alive, but I could never tell ya that I loved ya 'cause I always felt that ya deserved somethin' better than me. Hell, I still believe that, but the idea of losin' ya is worse. I want to be with ya for as long as we can be alive in this world. I love ya for who ya are, peach, for yer stubbornness, for yer strength, but also for how sweet ya are, with our family, n’ with me. I want to hug ya, kiss ya, hold yer hand n' be able to be at least a little bit of that man that ya always saw in me…”

Daryl lets go of her hand, and (Y/N) waits for a moment, for something, she doesn’t quite know what, some hint that tells her she can turn around maybe. And when his voice calls her again, she turns slowly, with fear in her racing heart, but in the midst of that immensity that used to steal her breath, seeing Daryl with one knee in the sand and a ring in his hand has the same effect on her, in a totally different way.

“What are you…?”

Daryl’s hair covers part of his eyes, but she can see the nervousness and sincerity in them.

“Marry me, peach, I can’t promise ya a fairy tale, but I can promise ya that I will love ya for the rest of ma life.”

His words travel through her, right to her heart, and (Y/N) fights back the sudden tears that she refuses to let fall at that moment, overwhelmed by his sudden confession just when she had thought that they would never, ever be together again. Her thoughts travel at the speed of a train, but she knows well that there is only one correct answer.

Then, (Y/N) nods and a soft smile appears on her lips.

“Of course i will marry you.”

It was a truth that Daryl didn’t smile much, because unfair adversity never played in his favor, so he hadn’t had many real moments to do so, but in that instant, as he stands, he finds it easy to lift her into his arms, her legs around his waist and her warm hands on his cheeks as she leans in to kiss him, and he, responds with the same fervor.

In that moment, Daryl feels, for the first time in his life, what it’s like to be truly happy.

“I love ya.” He says between kisses. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

“It’s okay. You’re lucky I’ve always been way more patient than you.” (Y/N) chuckles still close to his mouth, giving him another kiss before saying the words he’s dying to hear. “I love you too.”

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon

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tv-ajax · 13 hours ago

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prick. /affectionate fuck blue hair and pronouns, grey hair and pronouns is in. took some inspo from @ kyynas lovely Joxter design please go look at their incredible art please please please

I really like the idea of Joxter having a nautical vibe. it's also a fun contrast to Snufkin's forest goblin energy. I did leaves instead of flowers in his hat for the same reason. Just tried giving him a sort of chilly vibe, like a sea breeze idk. I also tried my best to make him look like a rat but like a well dressed rat.

tried something w adding a watermark I made for school. is it something I'm gonna continue using? idk. makes me feel professional though. [I am not].

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m4rs-ex3 · 2 days ago

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(even louder) trailer screaming part 2

the adrenaline i've had all day is making me crash hard so i'm tired so idk if i'll actually be screaming louder but like. internally i am

well starting off strong

oh fucking boy

first i'm gonna say i love the way he said "however ~vile~" like slay

and then i know that like. this feels like such an obvious/lame explanation but i do not believe this is "real". like of course there's the fact that the cube. yknow. isn't like that in real life that's just how it looks in his fever dream. a lame ass reason for sure but honestly my real reason for not believing this is that there's no way they'd put THIS reveal in the trailer. there's a distinctly lower number of new clips in this trailer then there has been for seasons past, which could be them building hype for the end of the arc(s), but still i have a feeling that there's only so much they were willing to put out (which excites me btw), so i doubt this would be one of those things, yk? i don't know anything ok im tired

could be another dream, could be hallucinations, could be anything

i do find it incredibly interesting that he's clearly in a xadian forest surrounded by giant mushrooms tho (zubeia?)

i will say this i believe

fuck she relapsed. but. b-ut also..ooo..w..

iiiiiiiiiii

we're all fairly certain that's human aaravos (which didn't even occur to me until i read one of the comments that shows you how observatory i am) and............... well i suppose it was inevitable. i've personally never really thirsted for aaravos; of course i get it but just can't relate. and now.............. oh my god this is the hottest person i have ever seen in my life. i've been awoogaing from the minute i saw him and damnit you can't make me stop

considering the following shot (also because it makes sense) that this is the spell that brought back all the spirits, but it makes me question the shot of aaravos standing in the valley of the graves cackling as the spirits surround him, because that just gives me very "mwuahaha we've just unleashed them" so idk. this is me trying to convince myself that that's not actually aaravos so i can drool over him without a little shame

ohoho this is exciting and fucking petrifying. that is a freeze spell if i've ever seen one, so it seems we have soren, TERRY !!, and allen rushing to presumably stop them, and then aanya kneeling over lujanne's body!!! yippee!

may i just say that the location zip zapping is hurting my brain. like callum and rayla both go from the nexus to katolis and everyone in katolis goes to the banther lodge and then callum ends up in a random xadian forest but also akiyu's grotto for some reason meanwhile rayla goes to the silvergrove but she also ends up in lux aurea with soren and coruvs who were with ez and aanya in the crystal cavern but ez and aanya were also at the valley of the graves but soren and aanya are also at the nexus where claudia and aaravos and terry are but before/after that they were/are first at the valley of the graves and also a xadian forest but then terry was in a different seemingly not-xadian forest and i need to lie down

in addition to the Cave Fuckers we also keep seeing this mf with BAT WINGS??? HELLO????

ok i know i sound like an edgy middle schooler but i'm sorry this is the most exciting shot in the trailer for me. what can i say blood excites me. my favorite characters covered in blood? even better. short king ram with that sickass head tilt? fucking hell to the fucking yeah (i'm choosing to ignore the way he literally went rawr XD immediately after)

this is another one where there's so much to process like as aforementioned we're in a xadian forest and terry's here looking perfectly content so assuming that he is abandoning ship (which is supported by the nexus shot) this is before that??

also as aforementioned callum in akiyu's grotto which is SO out of left field but whatever

and akiyu is also here. on the ground perhaps. good sign

this is irrelevant but. look at that lil face. hehe

ALSO AA IM STUPID AND AM ONLY JUST NOW REALIZING THIS BUT THE FIRE IS CLAUDIA'S YOU CAN SEE FROM THE BG OF HER DRAGON TRANSFORMATION SHE DEF THERE TOO AAKSDHFKJAHSKJDFHIASDHFLJKHSDKLFHKJSAHDLFK IM FO FUCKING EXCITED YOU HAVE NO IDEA HWO LONG AND HOW BADLY IVE NEEDE A PROPER CALLUM V CLAUDIA SHOW DOEWN EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

also it's giving

#im sorry the long awaited p2 took so long #i would apologize for the amount that i say fuck in these posts but i am not sorry #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp spoilers #tdp s7 #continuethesaga #giveusthesaga

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socra-time · 3 days ago

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Socra’s Naruto liveblog, Ep 51-60

Ep 51:

-I really like Team 10 actually

-Choji’s human ball attack looks so slow lmao, the animation probably doesn’t do it justice

-welp rip Choji

-I can’t really take Kabuto seriously, idk why but I think it’s because his character design is so… underwhelming? Like his outfit is lame-looking (yes, I know it’s because he’s a spy or whatever) and he lacks any kind of intimidating or mysterious aura

-I fully believe that Naruto would get stomped by any one of the others who made it to the third round (except Dosu and maaaaybe Shikamaru depending on how hard he tries. Oh and also Temari because from what I’ve seen so far, I don’t believe the writer would let Naruto lose to a girl). I already know Naruto beats Neji, but I’m expecting a MAJOR asspull for that to happen

-Naruto says that Gaara took down Lee “without breaking a sweat”, which is like objectively untrue. Gaara definitely broke a sweat. He literally broke his fucking FACE

-oh my fucking god Konohamaru’s trainer is back???? I thought he was a one-off character lol

Ep 52:

-Kakashi I love you but the bar for being a better teacher than you isn’t that high

-Ebisu’s pompous-ass voice is so funny, it kinda reminds me of James from Team Rocket

-also Ebisu’s explanation of Naruto’s lack of chakra control has made me wonder again how the fuck Naruto mastered Shadow Clone jutsu in the first place. Like I get that he has inhuman levels of chakra, but that doesn’t matter if he doesn’t properly know what to do with it, right?????

Ep 53:

-d-did Naruto just stick his fingers up Ebisu’s butt

-we stan Naruto calling Jiraiya out on his bullshit

-I do like Jiraiya’s voice tho

-rip Ebisu

-instead of making a hundred comments about Jiraiya’s perviness, I’m just gonna say this: ew.

-oh Naruto you sweet innocent child

-NEVERMIND JIRAIYA GOT WORSE EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

-I never want to see the fucking sexy jutsu ever again, Jesus fucking Christ

-so I realize that Naruto’s seal isn’t always visible, but how the hell did he never notice and question it before he was told about having the Nine Tails within him

Ep 54:

-oh Dosu is attacking Gaara? Yeah Dosu is about to die isn’t he

-Gaara’s voice is extra edgy in this episode lmao

-aaaaand Dosu is dead. Bro fucked around and found out

-I still can’t take Kabuto seriously as a villain

-damn shit is getting real

-I am so fucking uncomfy with these Jiraiya scenes

-Naruto summoning a tadpole was kinda funny ngl

Ep 55:

-literally all of Team 7 needs to go to mandatory therapy, INCLUDING Kakashi

-I love that Sakura is fully supportive of Lee after he defended her in the Forest of Death; her buying him a flower along with Sasuke was nice

-I’m not a fan of Ino’s bun

-Lee my poor sonnnnnn

-see Naruto and Jiraiya’s dynamic has funny moments sometimes but it’s hard to enjoy them with all the pervy shit thrown in

Ep 56:

-watching this is making me crave ramen

-Naruto going like 👉👈🥺 was really cute

-Jiraiya says that Naruto’s body is “too small a vessel” to contain the Nine Tails’s chakra, almost like they SHOULDN’T HAVE SEALED IT IN A FUCKING BABY

-I feel like we’re supposed to like the Hokage, which is making me doubt my distrust of him

Ep 57:

-I like the big toad’s voice

-ah yes gotta love having ninja child soldiers

-Naruto was gremlining so hard at the end of this episode lol

Ep 58:

-why is Gaara turning this episode into a whole-ass horror movie

-Naruto saying he has a demon inside him as a show of power while threatening GAARA of all people was pretty ironic

-Gaara really is just trauma dumping all over the place

-Naruto basically instantly recognizing the tragedy of Gaara’s situation speaks a lot to his empathy and was a surprisingly mature moment for him

Ep 59:

-I want ramen so baddddd

-I don’t know what Shikamaru’s mom looks like but her genes didn’t even try

-also shoutout to Ino’s dad and his slay-ass ponytail

-Naruto please learn some tact

-Akamaru continues to be the cutest little bean

-I feel like they only included the Konohamaru side quest to pad out this episode’s runtime

Ep 60:

-I’m glad that Kiba, Ino, and Sakura all don’t seem too bummed about the results of their preliminary matches

-welp Naruto is fucking pissed

-the Byakugan veins look so painful

-why doesn’t Naruto just summon the giant toad and make it squash Neji

-respectfully Naruto needs to learn another way of fighting besides just “spam clones”

#naruto #socra’s naruto liveblog

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year ago

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this is so absolutely adorable. love me some good old witch x werewolf romance. love me some whipped, goofy jisung

[2.22]

― pairing : Han Jisung x fem! reader ― content warnings : angst, fluff, implied smut, wolf au, reader is a witch, soulmates, medieval settings as always, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ; for the witch hunter part I kinda got inspired by the Merlin and Freya story but without the tragic ― word count : 2.670

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

Branches roughly scratched your face and your arms, the sound of the dry leaves breaking under your feet as you desperately ran through the woods, trying to save yourself in what had started as a quiet and cool autumn morning.

Gritting your teeth as every limb in your body started to ache, your left hand was tightly pressed on the bloody wound on your right side, disheartened by the fact that you couldn’t use magic to heal your wound. You felt your own blood wetting your trembling fingers, and you wanted to cry, both by the pain you were feeling and both because you didn’t even have time to rest for a few seconds.

So, you kept running, a hunter following you close behind. You have been hearing rumours spreading through your village that the King had called for a hunter to investigate presumed supernatural events that started to happen at the court, but you had never thought that said hunter would have chased you as soon as he arrived. You did not have anything to do with the alleged magic episodes happening in the Castle, but you have heard from your mentor witch that hunters never stopped in front of anything.

Witches, werewolves, shapeshifters; the hunters would hunt everyone, trap them, and execute them on a public square. Therefore, their weapons and methods of capture improved through the years and adapted easily to every need.

This was the reason why you could not use your magic to defeat him, nor to heal yourself; your wound was caused by an enchanted blade, which would neutralize your magic unless someone else healed you.

A small clearing opened in front of you, and your heart sank at the view. Two wolves, one with ginger fur and hazel eyes, and the other with white fur and blue eyes immediately snapped their eyes towards you, both alerted and wary at your state and sudden appearance. Your eyes met hazel ones, and between all the pain, you felt a confusing warm sensation invading your senses.

«R-run,» you tried to say, but it came out as a raspy, weak whimper, «hunter.» you managed to add, pain clouding your senses, feeling as you were about to faint. You saw the wolves sharing a look, before the white wolf stopped the other from walking towards you, pushing him towards the woods behind them instead.

This was the last thing you saw before darkness enveloped your senses.

The dark night sky met your eyes as you woke up feeling sore due the metal bars against your back. Pain immediately shot through your side as you tried to move, blinking few times to gradually take in your surroundings as you weakly managed to breathe. Large, heavy metal cuff adorned your wrists, connecting them to the metal bars of the small cage you were trapped in. You were in one of the streets of the village, so that cage must have been the one that the hunter carried along with him, pulled by his horse; you hesitantly looked around, but did not find any trace of the hunter. With slow movements, the shackles rattled as you lifted the hem of your skirt, noticing that at least, your ankles hadn’t been tied up as well.

Tears blurred your vision, realizing that, that was it. You would have died like that, since you did not know any other witch who could heal you, let alone someone who could save you. Judging by the pain you constantly felt, the effects of the enchanted blade were still active, and you suspected that the handcuffs were enchanted too, if not the whole cage, meaning that you could not save yourself.

Basically, you were doomed. You closed your eyes as the hunter exited the tavern, leaning against the cage bar with a gloved hand.

«I hope you’re not feeling too cold, witch.» he spat, with an obnoxious and gruff voice. «They’ll warm you up soon enough.» with a merciless laugh, he walked away from you, and your heart sank even deeper.

“At least, for now they’re both safe.” You thought, your mind briefly recalling soft hazel eyes and fur as white as snow pushing him away.

You most definitely lost count of days; you could not stay awake, and you could barely sleep. You were stuck into an impasse. Night fell once again, hasty and sneaky whispers suddenly catching your attention, along with few low growls. You tried to identify the shadows approaching your cage, trying to help yourself with the light the full moon provided, wondering if the hunter changed his plans for you.

Fear spreaded through your body and the shackles rattled loudly as you attempted to press yourself even further against the metal bars, the desperate attempt to somehow save or shield yourself even if you were helpless and trapped. A boy around your age with white hair and long white eyelashes suddenly jumped on the carriage, in the front of the cage’s locked door, his index fingers in front his lips signalling you not to make any noise. You nodded at him, still trembling, just to notice another boy with light brown hair effortlessly climb on and kneel next to him.

«How’s it, Lix?» the boy asked the one with white hair, as they both studied the padlock.

«It’s a piece of cake.» the boy’s deep voice startled you, and he started picking at the padlock with what you thought was a thin fragment of sharpened iron. «Let’s say I expected more from a hunter’s cage.» he smiled to himself as the padlock opened with a soft “click”, and they both opened the door of the cage with slow movements, in order to prevent any squeaking noise from the rusty iron.

«We’re not going to hurt you,» The boy with light brown hair smiled warmly at you, two dimples appearing to corner his smile. «I’m Chris, and he’s Felix.» he gestured to the white haired boy which was now picking at the locks of the heavy handcuffs around your wrists. Felix looked up with a soft smile at the mention of his name. «There are others outside the cage. Me and my friends are here to save you.»

«Let’s save the introductions for later,» Felix mumbled, placing the handcuffs on your side, away from you, and your first instinct was to rub your red and sore wrists, «we’re running short on time.»

Chris nodded, and with a gentle «I’m so sorry for this.» he leaned towards you and picked you up as gently as he could, as you tried to suffocate another wave of pain running through your side. Chris effortlessly jumped down the carriage while holding you tight, and you noticed that “the others” which he was referring to were indeed a pack of wolves.

«Han, Seungmin, get her home. We’ll take care of him.» Chris said, and obediently, two large wolves slowly walked towards you. Your eyes met hazel ones, and the ginger wolf you saw few days earlier was looking at you as he was feeling your own pain.

«You’ll be fine now, your mate is here.» You heard Chris say once again, his gentle voice reaching your ears distant and muffled. The last thing you remember was being helped climbing on the back of the ginger wolf, which partially leaned down to help your movements, and you caressing a small fraction of his soft fur, feeling somehow as safe as you have never felt. You let yourself trust your saviours enough to close your eyes, and darkness once again enveloped your soul.

The feeling of dizziness was the first thing that welcomed you as soon as you woke up. An unfamiliar wooden ceiling met your tired eyes, and you realized that you have been laying on a soft mattress, instead of a metal cage.

Feeling an unfamiliar sensation of warmth around your right hand, you glanced down, just to see an asleep boy sitting on the floor with his head on the mattress, as he was still holding your hand. A strange sensation of familiarity pervaded your senses as you saw his delicate features cornered by long blondish hair.

You tried to sit up, but pain shot through your side again, and you whined, collapsing back on the bed, involuntarily waking the bow up. You were confused by the pain you were feeling; it was definitely different from the one generated by the enchanted blade. Could it be that your saviours found a way to heal you?

The boy blinked twice before noticing you were awake, and his eyes widened immediately.

«Here, let me help you.» he offered, his hand hanging in mid-air, waiting for your approval. Due to a strange pull you felt in your chest you found yourself nodding, and he delicately helped you sit up, your back lying comfortably against the fluffy cushions.

«I’m Jisung,» he smiled, reaching out to your nightstand to offer you a glass full of water, which you gladly accepted. «I’m part of the group that saved you last week.»

«Last week?!» you shrieked, your voice hoarse and your throat burning due to not having spoken with anyone not having drank anything for apparently, more than a week.

A sad smile adorned Jisung’s pretty lips, «We’re very lucky to be both alive.» he said, confusing you, but proceeded before you could ask. «There are other witches in the pack, they’re my friends’ mates.» you nodded, recalling Chris’ saying the same word that night. «They healed you, and took care of you.» due to you still dizzy state, you noticed only in that moment that you had been completely bathed and you weren’t definitely wearing your clothes anymore. You nodded, slowly taking in everything that happened and everything he said. You most definitely owed them your life.

«Thank you,» you offered Jisung a sweet, sincere smiled which he immediately mirrored. «But… How did you know I had been caught?» You furrowed your brows, waiting for Jisung to confirm your thoughts.

A pack of wolves mysteriously showed up after you’ve warned two wolves you randomly found on your way, and coincidentally, one of them had human features which reminded you of the white wolf you saw, so, this meant that-

«You told me yourself,» Jisung’s soft voice intruded your thoughts, and for some reason, your heart sparked up at the confirmation to Jisung being not only the ginger wolf you’ve seen but there was a probability of you being his mate. «I was going to pick you up immediately, but Felix convinced me it was probably better to alert the others and to come up with an actual plan to save you.»

«How am I even supposed to repay this debt.» you mumbled to yourself, throwing your head back and meeting yet another fluffy cushion. Jisung chuckled softly at your reaction.

«Come live with us, with me. I mean-us.» he said, blushing as he stuttered on his sentence and you softly giggled at him, rubbing your eyes with one hand.

«Whose house is this?» you asked, weakly, feeling yourself getting drowsy once again. «Mine.» Jisung said, taking away the empty glass from your hands. «Okay then,» you mumbled, «I’ll move in.» «I’ll be here when you’ll wake up.» was the last thing you heard Jisung say, before you fell into a peaceful sleep.

You have been falling in and out of sleep few more times, and Jisung had always kept his promise. Sometimes he would be awake, sometimes asleep, but as soon as you woke up, he would be the first thing you would see.

Something brushed against your shoulder, and you woke up to find Jisung laying on top of the blankets and cuddled on your side, his forehead brushing against your shoulder as he tried to occupy as little space as he could. Following your instinct, you turned on your side to face him, happily noticing that finally your side stopped hurting, and scooted closer to him, so that you would fall asleep once again with your forehead against his.

You woke up few hours later due to the feeling of Jisung’s fingers delicately brushing few strand of your hair away from your face, his eyes burning into yours from up close. During sleep, you managed to intertwine your hands, and neither of you tried to move from the contact now that you were both fully awake.

«Jisung?» you mumbled, and he hummed in response. «Why did you say we were lucky to be alive?» you saw his eyes soften, and his hand reached out to gently caress your cheek.

«You and I are mates,» he explained, «if one of us dies, so does the other.» Jisung’s voice made your heart sank in realization that you unknowingly almost killed your mate and, feeling your emotions, he re-adjusted your positions so that he could hug you close to his body.

«I’m sorry it took us a while to come and get you but, everything is going to be okay, now. We’re together.»

You quickly adjusted to your new life. First of all, you were happy you could use magic once again, and consequently, to finally have friends with the same gift you had.

The pack welcomed you, but they simply acted as you had always been there, nothing changed in their routine, neither in yours, and you felt home and safe with them accepting you so easily and making you feel one of the family. Jisung was the goofiest and most caring mate you could ever have. His loud personality always made you feel at ease, and so did his natural desire for contact and skinship. Despite the two of you acting like a lovesick couple for the whole day, you and Jisung shared your first kiss a month after your arrival.

Due to what happened, he spent the day walking you around the woods, both in his human and wolf form, showing you that there was no more reason to be afraid, since the hunter had been taken care of and from now on, he would have been there to protect you.

And so, your first kiss was shared under an old oak tree, after you’ve been playing hide and seek all afternoon, and finally, you felt one with the nature and you were no more afraid of the dangers that it could hide.

«Found you!» you excitedly jumped in Jisung’s arms, which held you up immediately, his hold unwavering.

Jisung chuckled. «You did, again.» you inched down, closing the space between you and capturing Jisung’s lips in a soft kiss. Effortlessly keeping you up with his right arm, his left hand reached up to tenderly cup your jaw, gently angling your head to have a better access to deepen the kiss. You kissed him back with equal fervour, feeling as your souls were now connected at a whole, different level.

Eventually, Jisung carefully laid you down on the soft grass, peppering your body with sweet kisses as you made love under an old oak tree, shielding you from indiscreet eyes, as you were lost in each other’s touch. Jisung’s hands and the promised of undying love he whispered against your skin made you feel like you were on fire, as you both tried to adapt to the new sensation of completeness that inevitably came as your bodies rocked and grinded together, chasing your release while tightly intertwining your hands together. Jisung’s left hand intertwined with yours and his right hand cupped your jaw once again to kiss you as you came together, absorbing each other’s moans with a tender kiss, your left hand hanging loosely around his right wrist.

«I think I really love you,» Jisung mumbled in the crook of your neck as you both shared the bliss of your post orgasm state, and you felt your heart soar. «And I’m really glad you found me.»

«I love you, too.» you mumbled back, feeling Jisung’s hammering heartbeat right against your skin, «And I’m really glad you found me right back.»

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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#and love me some love making in the forest #i'm glad they found each other #even if it was under less than ideal circumstances #skz fic #jisung x reader #ficrec #werewolf au

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starry-bi-sky · 1 month ago

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finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.