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jiaoqiu-s-bitch · 2 years

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I like to think that Ayato is a very gentle and generous lover, but in bed he can be quite selfish and rough. So I would like to request Ayato taking his female s/o on an extravagant date being sweet the whole time and then spending the night together at the kamisato estate with a complete personality change 👀

Hey hunny, thank you for the ask!

I agree with your hc for the most part, tho I do feel like he would still always make sure you’re ok and being "selfish" would still mean spoiling you in the end lol, but anyways: hope you enjoy~

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Kamisato Ayato || gentleman in the streets, rough in the sheets (sfw & nsfw)

• as the Yashiro Commissioner and head of the Kamisato clan, Ayato is a man that is used to keeping up appearances under all circumstances

• he knows his responsibilities and honors them meticulously, which results in him rarely (if ever) being able to really let go

• as his partner, you were one of those responsibilities, and Ayato would always make sure to take you out on a proper date once a month minimum to make up for at least some of the time he’s spent working

• and when the Yashiro Commissioner takes his love out on a date, you can bet your sweet ass it’s gonna be fancy

• you mean the world to him and he wants you to feel appreciated in every way possible, so he only ever gives you the best of everything, treating you like a queen throughout the whole evening

• the restaurant he takes you to is fancy and expensive enough as is, yet he’s additionally arranged a secluded room for the two of you to dine in

• he holds the door open and pulls your chair back for you like a true gentleman, his every movement, no matter how simple, deliberate and graceful - years of training having shaped him into this form and making it hard for him to ever really unwind

• with a pleased smirk gracing his features, he compliments you on the fine dress you are wearing tonight (that he had gifted you the day prior for this occasion), the intricately laced fabric bearing witness to its quality

• "Indeed, I wonder just what drove me to wear this particular one today… I guess I just have immaculate taste" you flash him a playful smile that earns you an amused chuckle, Ayato slightly lifting his glass of wine towards you with a "Touché"

• despite his distinct exterior formality, Ayato certainly hadn’t forgotten that it was you he was dining with, not some business partner of his

• so after the two of you had received your orders and were left alone, the commissioner was finally able to loosen up just a little, enjoying some playful banter with you but mainly inquiring about and patiently listening to how and what you’ve been doing recently

• the two of you rarely get the chance to really catch up with each other, whenever he finishes work in the evening he’s usually not in the mood to talk much, his body aching for some well-deserved rest

• but on this fine evening, it seemed like both of you had all the time in the world and neither of you was gonna let that go to waste

• and remember, it’s not only your needs that more often than not go unfulfilled due to his demanding job: Ayato himself has to cut down lots of his own as well, which obviously also includes spending some quality time with you

• despite his usual polite and calm manner, his wandering gaze and lingering touches throughout the evening did not slip your attention

• and how could they? you were absolutely basking in them, hungry more like STARVED for his undivided attention, leaning forward to grant him a good look down your cleavage every now and then to make sure his attention stayed on you (as if that was necessary lmao)

• you eventually finished up your dinner and made your way home (why do I feel like this man would order you a carriage-), which is when you thanked him for taking the time and going to the trouble of taking you on this date

• Ayato sighs heavily in response "My sweet darling.. after all this time we’ve been together, you still believe anything I do with or for you classifies as "trouble" to me?"

• his piercing gaze didn’t falter as he gently lifted up your chin to make you look at him, clearly expecting an answer from you

• "I… guess not" you reply after a short pause, I mean how could you genuinely think it was with the way he’s been treating you? even a blind man could see that he clearly enjoyed spoiling you

• in spite of your previous efforts of getting his facade to crack just a bit by using your charms before getting home, the head of the Kamisato clan did not break character until the bedroom door was closed and safely locked behind you

• this was by far not the first time you’ve seen this switch with him, yet it would never get old

• and you know this man’s bedroom eyes hit different

• he’s sitting on the edge of your shared bed, beckoning you to come sit on his lap with a mere flicker of his eyes

• and just who were you to refuse?

• while kissing and biting at your neck, his nimble fingers quickly find their way up your thighs and eventually sneak under your dress, the man below you licking his lips in excitement when he finds you wearing no panties underneath

• "My naughty little girl…", he whispered right next to your ear, and next thing you know you’re sprawled out on your back, hands tied above your head with a silky ribbon

• you’d been together with him for quite a while already, and the two of you had long established the do‘s and don‘t‘s for the bedroom

• yet every time you got intimate, Ayato made sure to ask you whether you still remembered your safe word, not proceeding until you’ve repeated it for him

• there’s very few ways for him to let out his pent-up frustrations, and you always loved being the one to help him unwind even if just for a limited time

• you knew how badly he needed it and honestly… you felt no shame admitting you did too

• at times like these, he would constantly manhandle you into different positions, indulging and relishing in the soft warmth you’re so willingly offering him

• and gosh did he love you for this (not only for this ofc but you get my point)

• he often ended up spanking you quite a lot in the process, fascinated by the distinct handprints of his forming on your ass cheeks

• meanwhile his thrusts are quick but precise, his muscle memory allowing him to hit just the spots inside of you that made you see stars in record time while simultaneously rubbing your clit

• after all, the closer you got to your climax, the more you tightened around him and the better it felt for him as well

• this was a rare occasion where he could fully let himself go and let his carnal instincts and desires take over, using your body for his pleasure

• but you most definitely didn’t mind in the slightest, in fact, you were enjoying yourself to the fullest as well

• merely being able to do this for your man made you happy, but it wasn’t like you were being neglected either

• Ayato made sure you didn’t need to do much of the work at all, it was more than enough for him if you just did your best to be a good girl and hold still for him

• but even so, he would only ever allow himself to be selfish for so long

• once his most urgent needs were satisfied, it was always your turn

• he does prefer fingering you over giving you head, simply due to the fact that it allows him to properly monitor your facial expressions the whole time and whisper dirty little things to you, taking note of what made you moan louder or clench around his digits harder

• well it’s not like he doesn’t already know, but he still enjoys playing around and experimenting a bit with his favorite (and only) little fucktoy

• he definitely takes immense pride in being able to satisfy you, besides - like I mentioned before - he genuinely enjoys spoiling his darling, so there’s no way he would ever turn around and leave you wanting

• so needless to say… both of you would be absolutely spent and blissed out by the end of the night, and you already couldn’t wait for the next date night to come up~

#for some reason I struggled a lot with this #but it’s finished so here we are #my writing stuff #genshin impact #genshin ayato #kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #genshin hcs #genshin x reader #genshin lemon

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sovhina · 2 years

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I wanna thank the rest of my commissioners for being so patient I promise I am toiling away between schoolwork. I think there’s like three left and two are kind of a doozy so I work slow generally but I’m also working slow bc I want them to come out as good as possible <3 anyway yeah just thank you <3333 I promise you’re not forgotten and just a reminder that I give updates whenever you want! My dms are always open on both my tumblrs and discord! Please don’t hesitate to contact me! <3

#update #comms update #so close to the finish line #it’s bittersweet cuz a break is gonna be great but I also really do love drawing peoples ocs and bringing their visions to life #it makes me so happy to make others happy with my art and do their ocs justice I hope #I’ve done like 10 comms idk why I’m acting like I haven’t been doing anything since July SKSKKS #I’ve been very busy

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arenabreadandbiscuits · 3 months

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Me rn because I accepted a writing commission that I will in fact finish but annoying me a bit because

1. My cycle decided to start so my mood is up and down

2. The story has been changed like three times right now (as of typing this...), mainly due to misunderstandings (most on my side I guess but my commission list LITERALLY has rules though after this commission I see I'll have to highlight things)

3. The story has a character that's supposed to be from a whole other fandom so basically this is a split fic which wouldn't be an issue except for the fact that the other fandom is a manwha that I've NEVER heard of...

I know this really makes me seem like the one not prepared but this is why I have my posts, so that everyone can actually read through them and know what I'm all about. Bonus note: commissioner seems to be in a rush for the work though I mentioned that 10k words could at least take a week. At least. It's only been a day..

I'm having to continue off a story that was already started but not finished which I also wasn't expecting.. I don't mind finishing work other's started but let's just say that none of this was expected because I had assumed my commission post said everything it needed to. I'll have to make tweaks later...

One being that if you ask for a fandom that I DON'T have listed I will tell you to be just a bit more patient than someone who did pick off the list. I write commissions yes but ANY commission wasn't noted. Two being that I'm serious about taking in consideration my timing on posts, I don't like feeling rushed and I don't mind people checking on me but have mercy. I am still disabled and out of school for such with major levels of depression and mental health like that so not being rushed definitely helps me. I don't mind being checked on but breathing down my neck makes this harder for both of us.

Finally, I don't mind you ASKING about fandoms that's not in the list but just assume it'll be better if you just commission what's on the list.

Anyway, the list is HERE!.

Edit:

Hi! I'm pissed off! :3

So they said that basically what they asked for wasn't included in their story and decided to report me to PayPal. (I'll have to delete it because of course I don't have that money to give back.) PayPal isn't even letting me give my side of the story which was total bullshit.

You gave me a story that had already been started by someone else and based off of how you responded I can see why it wasn't finished. Especially if you were as needy for things as you were with me.

2 you ADDED A FANDOM IM NOT IN and though that's more on my I sent you a template! I asked you questions! And not once until up to the point of later in the story did you mention anything wrong with how it was going. I say in the original COMMISSIONS POST what fandoms I write for and though I'm nice enough to accept other fandoms I wasn't even aware that you were mentioning a second fandom until AFTER I had the money transaction with you.

You rushed me the first couple days which made me feel like I had to get everything done at a certain time.

I also didn't like your tone and I would have liked you to say something sooner if you weren't liking the story and no not things you prefer but instead things you WANT. It's like you've never done a writing commission before.

To this person I hope you have the day you deserve and I hope you're reading this rn even though I got your silly ass blocked. All I could think while working on your commission was how GRATEFUL id be once I got it done and over with and boy was I right. I mention my situation, I mention my case and the last thing you choose to do is be understanding. I have NEVER had an issue with a customer before you because the ones before you knew how to LISTEN.

Finally having you gone is the slightest my shoulders have been in a week, since the moment you showed up in my life and my dms. Thank you for finally leaving me alone. I don't even wish you any bad will or anything like that, I just wish you never came to me to begin with.

Edit2:

They made it a claim. I take back not wishing ill but ffs. Ugh this is why I if you want a commission to read the commission rules. I'm actually frustrated, I'm not dealing with this tonight. Imma go smoke and call it a day. 😒

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euthymiya · 5 months

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“we’re just friends but…” ft. wriothesley, neuvillette, alhaitham, and kamisato ayato

aka the moment genshin boys realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not “just friends” and maybe, just maybe, they’d like to be more. perhaps some day in the future they’ll tell you. part two of confessions here!

contains: female reader in all (nicknames such as madame and my lady), fluff, pining and realizing of feelings, wriothesley: mentions of fighting, blood, and injuries (pankration ring), reader is a doctor, neuvillette: mentions of being a mother figure to melusine’s (lots of melusine features!), reader works at the palais and can bake, alhaitham: drunk alhaitham, reader can cook, ayato: implied assassination attempt (canon typical yashiro commissioner life lol), reader wears a dress in and is very minimally attacked by an assassin while with him, ayato is as unhinged and low key crazy as ever, these all end with unresolved pining but they’re all very fluffy and hopeful i pinky promise

“we’re just friends, but when i see her touch anyone else, it makes my skin crawl. shouldn’t she only touch me?” — WRIOTHESLEY

you’re just doing your job, he tries to tell himself. wriothesley knows that with your line of work, not touching anyone would be next to impossible. the fortress is blessed to have such a dedicated and knowledgeable doctor to help out the head nurse, and it’s admirable that you’ve given up broad daylight and a position at any respectable hospital in fontaine to tend to patients down here.

it’s admirable, and wriothesley appreciates it more than anyone else.

but the mind thinks what it thinks, and his can’t help but think how wonderful it would be if the only shirtless man you had to cleans wounds of was himself. not that he gets many wounds—he prides himself in his ability to knock an opponent out before they land a hit, but if someone were to be shirtless on the examination table with your delicate hands dabbing at small cuts, it should be him.

he stares daggers into the small gash his gauntlets seem to have made in his former opponent, watching as you gently clean the blood with careful precision. a part of him faintly registers that he should feel bad—as the duke, it’s his responsibility to make sure he never injures anyone in a good natured tournament, but this time was an accident. and he does feel bad. just not worse than the unexplainable weight at the bottom of his stomach that makes him feel almost nauseous. why does he feel nauseous?

“you’re all good to go,” you hum softly, “i would tell you to be careful next time, but i don’t think this has much to do with you as it does with other factors.”

you shoot wriothesley a pointed look as the man shrugs on his shirt, a dazed look on his features as he thanks you over stumbled words. wriothesley’s jaw tightens—it’s clear as day this patient of yours appreciates much more than your talents as a professional.

“it was an unfortunate accident,” wriothesley mumbles, “i’ll have to be more cautious next time, my apologies.”

“all good, boss,” the man waves off, and with a polite nod to you, he’s off. finally—wriothesley doesn’t think he could’ve left any faster.

“how can you hope to lessen patients in here if you’re the one sending them over?” you turn to him, making wriothesley fight back a small frown.

it must show anyway, because you giggle and poke his cheek as you walk over, speaking in between those melodious laughs as you tell him to stop pouting.

“i’m not pouting,” he scoffs, like the sentiment is preposterous, “and it was an accident. honest.”

“yes i know, your grace,” you tease. hearing such a title doesn’t usually do anything to him, but hearing it from you makes his heart flutter a tiny bit, in a way that makes the ends of his nerves tingle and the palms of his hands sweat just a bit. “but you should be more careful with those gauntlets next time, you know.”

and then, against his every expectation, there’s a gentle and steady hand on his face, cradling it ever so slightly as you tilt his head and inspect the small bruise forming on his jawline.

“you’re hurt too,” you say in concern.

wriothesley, if he wasn’t so busy trying to still his beating heart, would have laughed at the way your face seems devastatingly worried. he would have teased you at the way the sight of blood didn’t manage to crack your steady and firm composure, but somehow, the sight of a small patch of discolored skin has.

“nah, it’s just a small thing,” he waves off, “he caught me off guard after i noticed the blood. nothing i can’t handle.”

“let me ice it,” you insist, “i don’t want it swelling.”

“i’ll be fine, doc,” he chuckles—but he finds himself pausing when you look at him almost upset. has he really upset you? he’d never want to, especially not over something so trivial.

so he sighs, walking over to the table before letting himself take a seat.

“you should take care of yourself more,” you sigh, “i see now what sigewinne means when she says you don’t look after yourself like you should.”

“ah,” he grins, trying to avoid your knowing look when he winces a little at the action when a dull ache builds in his jaw, “i suppose my refusal to drink her…unique beverages have caught up to me.”

you laugh, a sweet and innocent sound that makes something under his ribcage tickle. your hand is back to gently cradling his cheek as you tilt his head again, angling it to hold a small ice pack to the small bruise.

“you seem tense,” you say thoughtfully, “don’t feel so bad. i’m sure those guys give themselves worse in the ring here and there.”

wriothesley feels bad, he really does. he would never purposely injure someone when he’s meant to be the warden that keeps things peaceful. the memory of you tending to the man sitting in his place just a few moments ago brings back another wave of bitterness, one that’s much more fleeting this time when he tells himself that now that he’s replaced the man with himself, things aren’t so bad.

it hits him then—with your hand on his cheek and an ice pack to a comically small bruise that you fuss over, that something in him craves more than just your touch when he’s injured. it hits him that anyone can be in his position, sat in front of you as you treat minor wounds with delicate care. he doesn’t want to be like anyone, he thinks.

he wants more—something he can only have for himself. something that’s crossing the line of this comfortable friendship you’ve seemed to build.

“hey,” you say softly, pulling him from his thoughts. your thumb traces the scar under his eye as if to ground him. something tells him you don’t do that for other patients, something a bit more intimate than a doctor would be with a normal patient. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing, doc,” he hums lowly, eyeing you softly before he closes his eyes and lets out a soft breath. “you think my injury will be okay?” he asks with exaggerated concern.

you snort, shaking your head as you quip, “you’ll live. i hope.”

he chuckles at that. one of these days, when he’s a bit braver and a touch more in tune with his emotions about you, he’ll tell you how he feels. maybe he’ll have your touch outside of the clinic that way, something more personal, something more intimate.

“we’re just friends, but she makes me wonder what it’s like to have my own family with her. is that normal?” — NEUVILLETTE

melusines are beautiful creatures. innocent and kind by nature, and certainly small enough that it only makes them seem that much more fragile. neuvillette has always had a soft spot for the species, from the way they cheerily call him monsieur neuvillette, to the way they happily skip over to him each time they approach him.

the people of fontaine are fond of melusines too. he’s happy with the sentiment—he knows more than anyone else that things weren’t always this way. but somehow, watching you like this, smiling endearingly at the melusines in front of you as you let them pour more water into your cup, he can’t help but find more solace in this moment than any other one.

“madame,” sedene calls, “it’s lovely you could have joined us today.”

you chuckle, sweetly petting her head and taking a sip from your glass as you murmur, “it’s certainly a pleasure. though, i hope i’m not intruding, monsieur,” you look at neuvillette with a polite smile.

“no, of course not,” he returns the gesture, “on the contrary, we’re delighted to have you today.”

neuvillette regularly allows the melusines in his office in the afternoon. it starts one day when they insist he take a break, entering his office and pulling out sweets and tea to enjoy (he only drinks water, but they happily finish what he does not have.) the tradition is born ever since, a daily routine to allow himself a short break, one filled with the excited chatter of small creatures he so fondly looks over as they snack away surrounding his desk.

you happen to walk in today, with files in your hand meant to be dropped off to the iudex, pausing as you take in the sight of tiny paws reaching over his desk to grab madeleines as they chat happily. suddenly, there are one too many small voices insisting you join among the chief justice himself, and soon, you find yourself with a chair pulled over for you, sitting between sedene and neuvillette.

it’s nice, he thinks, having you join. your company is refreshing to witness as you happily indulge the melusines in their chatter.

“madame?” blathine calls, pulling a soft hum from you as you turn your gaze to her, “would you join us tomorrow as well?”

you giggle fondly, taking a small bite from a madeleine as you think for a moment. “perhaps if my schedule is free and monsieur neuvillette is not too busy…”

“i assure you it’s of no trouble to me,” he insists, “this is a bit of a…routine activity,” he chuckles as he eyes the gathered crowd around his desk.

“then i’ll certainly make time,” you grin. he feels himself soften, an unrecognizable twinge of excitement settling into his bones at the words. of course, neuvillette looks forward to the company of the melusines daily, but the added news of you joining seems to make his heart swell in a way he doesn’t normally find happening.

before he can ponder why that is, another voice captures his attention.

“madame, will you make macarons again if you join us? it’s been a while since we’ve last tried them,” kiara asks excitedly.

neuvillette watches as something brightens in you at the question, your lips tugging into a wide grin as your eyes crinkle at the edges. you nod, looking affectionately at the little heads surrounding you as they stare at you hopefully.

“if you would like, of course. i’m happy you enjoyed them.”

“you’ve baked for them before?” neuvillette asks curiously.

you open your mouth to speak, but it’s hardly possible to utter a word when so many excited voices cut in before you can.

“oh yes, madame brings us sweets whenever she makes them!” aeval chirps.

“the strawberry ones are simply divine!” he turns to elphane as she tugs his sleeve, “you must try them, monsieur.”

“the chocolate ones are my favorite. madame, would you bring those too?” liath looks hopeful, brightening as you nod sweetly.

“i hope it’s not too much trouble,” sedene looks up at you, and with another chuckle, you pat her head once more as you shake your head.

“of course not,” you say fondly, “it’s a wonderful pastime, in fact. i’ll certainly bring them tomorrow.”

“be sure not to bring too many sweets yourselves then,” neuvillette says seriously, taking a sip of his water, “you don’t want to have too much sugar and make yourselves sick. and drink plenty of water. it’s good for you.”

you look at him amusedly at his words, tips tugging wider as you say, “it seems as though you’ve taken over a fatherly figure, monsieur. it’s unexpectedly endearing, i must admit.”

“madame! madame! would that make you like a mother figure too, then?” veleda’s words make you choke on the sip of water from your own glass, pulling a surprised blink from neuvillette himself.

you both fleetingly stare at each other from the corner of your eyes before you look down, chuckling nervously as he clears his throat, hoping the flush he seems to feel coating his cheeks is not too apparent.

“well, if you would like to consider me as such, i don’t mind,” you say carefully.

the melusines giggle—for such endearing creatures, neuvillette finds they can be mischievous in their own right as well.

“monsieur, what do you think of madame being a mother figure?” blathine asks innocently, blinking up at him through doe eyes.

“i, well…it’s certainly wonderful you find comfort in her to feel—”

“does that make madame your wife?” aeval squeals, “oh, monsieur, i thought you’d never find someone!”

this time, he’s certain there’s a dust of red coating his cheeks as you laugh softly, eyeing him in a mix of sympathy and amusement.

“now, now,” you call, “monsieur neuvillette and i get along, but our relationship is strictly professional.”

he watches as the melusines giggle behind their tiny paws. he’s certainly aware of their playful schemes, but perhaps…perhaps a small part of him doesn’t mind the thought of you in a romantic light—he’s certainly not practiced in such emotions, but there’s a squeeze in his heart as he thinks about how easy it is to feel like a family with you.

his hand itches to reach and squeeze yours under the table as you laugh happily with the creatures, and faintly, he wonders if this is normal—your words are true, are they not? the relationship between you is strictly professional isn’t it?

he takes a sip of his water, unsure of what the rapid beating of his heart indicates anymore.

“we’re just friends, but i show up to her house every time i’m drunk. that doesn’t mean anything though, does it?” — ALHAITHAM

you open the door before he can even knock. his muddled brain should register that he should be embarrassed by that, but he’s too busy trying to keep his balance as he looks at you.

“oh haitham,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “i was wondering when you’d show up.”

“’m late?” he slurs, making you look at him in amusement as you gently grab his wrist and pull him in.

“did you have fun? you never stay out this long even at the tavern,” you murmur, gently helping him settle down on your couch.

there’s a glass of water waiting for him, one you delicately place to his lips and help him drink from as you sit next to him. even drunk, alhaitham can feel the searing burn of your thigh pressed against his—a heat he doesn’t mind, but it fogs his senses even more than they already are.

“beat cyno in tcg,” he says between sips, “i won.”

“good job,” you snort, “did he take it well?”

“no,” he laughs—it’s a giddy thing, one he lets out a bit more freely than his normal self would.

alhaitham is like that when he’s drunk: free and loose and something on the edge of vulnerable in a way you never get to see him. you smile at him, watching as he slumps back and sighs softly, rubbing his eyes.

“’m hungry,” he murmurs, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“i know,” you nod in amusement, “you practically eat my fridge whole every time.”

in the morning, alhaitham will be embarrassed. he’ll wake up on your soft couch and register that he’s done this again (most couches break his back, but yours somehow feels homely. soft and warm and smells like you to the point that he thinks it’s better than his own bed). he’ll tell himself that it won’t happen again next week, and that he’ll drink in moderation and force kaveh to bring him straight home—but somehow, just like the week before, he lands himself on your familiar couch, waking to the smell of coffee hitting his nose as you make it the way he likes.

it’s not a bad thing to get used to, in all truthfulness. but he’s no fool, he knows exactly what’s slowly developing in his stoic little heart, and he doesn’t think this build up of familiarity is helping his case any further. he doesn’t know if the build up exists for you either—maybe you’re just a nice enough person and good enough friend to let it all happen every week. just happy to give him a safe place to sleep the alcohol out from his system.

if he had a rational thought in his brain, maybe he’d ask you. blunt and to the point as he always is. but then again, even blunt and rational alhaitham gets bested by emotions every once in a while. especially the kind of emotions that are dangerously possible of being unrequited.

but regardless, rational alhaitham is out of the equation for now. right now, drunk, tired, hungry, and irrational alhaitham has taken over. he’ll have to worry about what drunk alhaitham does tomorrow when he’s sober, not right now.

“did you make my favorite?” he asks hopefully, almost childlike in the way his eyes peer at you as they wait for your answer.

they brighten when you nod, grinning as you say, “yes, i did. i always do, don’t i?”

“yeah,” he sighs contentedly, closing his eyes as he pulls the soft blanket you keep just for him over his body, a half-hearted attempt at covering himself as you slowly rise from his side.

the phantom linger of your thigh against his makes him realize he misses the touch, even if it clears his mind from the fog just a little to not be so near you.

“wait,” he says suddenly—you pause. he doesn’t know what’s compelled him to say that (he doesn’t know what compels him to do anything he does around you, but he’s here in this situation for that very reason, so there’s not much to be done there).

“yeah?” you say softly, waiting for him to speak.

“just…” he pauses. why did he stop you? is it because he has something to say? or is it simply because he knows as soon as you feed him dinner, he’ll pass out on your couch, and you’ll retire to your room for the night, and there will end the fleeting moment of having you all to himself? “just stay, that’s all,” he ends up saying.

archons know he’d never say that sober. it’s surprising enough as is when he’s drunk, but you don’t let the shock settle for long—endearment is quick to take over.

you snort before shaking your head, settling back down beside him as you whisper, “you’re the one who said you’re hungry.”

“i’ll eat later,” he frowns. you’re laughing at him, aren’t you? he should be embarrassed, maybe. but that touch of your thigh is back, and he can’t think straight enough to keep his sense of humility in tact.

“you know,” you murmur, delicately pushing back slightly sweaty hair from his flushed forehead, looking at him with enough care, he might think you feel the same if he wasn’t so drunk—but he’s simply too out of it to really understand what emotion your gaze holds. “if only you were as bold sober as you are drunk.”

he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and pressing into the warm embrace of your palm against his skin. it lingers—you don’t pull away any quicker than him, and the result is just a step closer that will only be two steps back by the morning.

still, the both of you enjoy it all the same.

“i’m bold all the time,” he insists.

“i wouldn’t say that,” you huff in amusement. “you don’t really speak your mind around me.”

“i do,” he argues, “i like coming here to you. you’re warm. and so is this couch. and your food’s good.”

“yeah?” you giggle, letting your fingers brush over his hair some more. he hums, nodding as he closes his eyes, yawning.

“mhm,” he barely gets out, “it’s the best part.”

“of what? drinking?”

“no,” he shakes his head, “of…of…i don’t know. just the best part.”

it’s the best part of my week, he’d tell you, if only the words could form on his tongue. he’s too blanketed by the embrace of your warmth and sleep to actually say them.

“tell me all this when you’re sober,” you whisper, tracing a thumb delicately over his cheek before you pull away, pulling the edges of the blanket along to cover him properly. he protests at the loss of your touch with a quiet sound, but sleep pulls him into its clutches quick enough that it doesn’t last too long. “maybe then, i’ll believe you when you say you’re bold all of the time.”

“we’re just friends, but i’d kill just about anyone for her if they so much as look at her weirdly. i can get away with it, can’t i?” — AYATO

ayato thinks if anyone manages to assassinate him one day, then they should be allowed to get away with it with no consequences. by now, he’s confident enough that he’s honed his abilities to be sharp. so sharp, that anyone who manages to so much as touch him is an opponent who has earned to get away with their crimes.

you, however, do not apply to this sentiment.

anyone who so much as touches you, in his eyes, is worthy of far worse than just consequences. he thinks the shogun herself could not hope to save them from his blade.

but for now, there are other pressing matters than to pursue the individual who has managed to attack you on your evening stroll with him—he’ll have the shuumatsuban swiftly investigate and handle the culprit accordingly. for now, he’s more concerned with you.

“are you alright?” he asks gently, helping you stand as you slowly take his outstretched hand. there’s a small quiver in your hand as it clasps his, and his jaw grits slightly at the fact.

“yes,” you breathe quietly, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. ayato can detect it instantly, however. he’s good at reading anyone, but especially you. “i’m alright, my lord,” you reassure.

he frowns, for more reasons than one. “ayato,” he corrects, “no need for formalities.”

“oh, ayato,” you chuckle softly, despite the earlier distress in your features, “as much as you don’t care about appearances, i mustn’t be caught addressing the yashiro commissioner so…improperly. what would people think?”

“that you’re deeply familiar to the yashiro commission,” he says simply, “as you are. it’s only the truth.”

you hum, dusting off the dirt from your dress as you inspect your clothing of any tears. ayato keeps his hand securely on yours, and it doesn’t seem as though he’s looking to let go in the current moment—you don’t necessarily take it upon yourself to remove yourself from his grasp, either.

“well, that was quite the surprise, wasn’t it?” you try to poke fun at the situation, a light attempt to diffuse the clear tension in his brows and shoulders.

ayato doesn’t answer, only taking you in carefully himself, running his eyes up and down your figure as if to make sure there are no injuries for himself. he’s still as pristine as ever, you note—although, it’s not as though the attacker was even close to touching him. he’d retaliated faster than you had even registered there was someone else in your vicinity.

the thought makes you realize how accustomed he must be to assassination attempts—a thought that makes your face drop.

and it must be apparent too, because he asks, “why the long face, all of a sudden?”

you flush in embarrassment. he’s cunning as always, that one. always one step ahead and so good at reading you, you might think he himself holds the pen that writes your every move in crisp, clear scribbles.

“nothing,” you mumble, sighing softly as you shrug, “i suppose it only just dawned on me how effortlessly you evaded such a fate. it must be a normal occurrence for the yashiro commissioner if you’re so…prepared.”

“ah,” he grins, slightly amused as he chuckles, “i suppose it is, yes. nothing to concern yourself over, on the contrary. i am very well prepared, indeed. however, i hadn’t prepared well enough for this stroll it seems, my lady. you must forgive me—next time, i’ll have the shuumatsuban keep an eye out as well.”

“i feel safe enough in your company alone, my lor—ayato,” you correct yourself as soon as you notice the smile drop from the corners of his mouth, “but i can’t help but feel regretful that it’s normal for you to assign additional help to ensure the safety of those close to you. it shouldn’t be necessary for you to be so cautious simply for holding people dear.”

“and do you feel as such?” he teases, “that i hold you dear?”

your face feels hot to the touch, you think, heat creeping to your ears as you look away and clear your throat. ayato is a quick witted man, his words as sharp as ever, meant to apply pressure to the weakest of points.

you’re no exception, it seems. though, he has a bit of a softer approach with you.

“w-well, we’re certainly not strangers,” you huff, “if someone as busy as the yashiro commissioner sets aside time to take an evening stroll with me, i would hope it’s safe to assume we’re quite dear friends.”

friend is starting to seem like a generous word. ayato is a good man, respectable and compassionate enough that he can maintain such a powerful position free of any corruption. but he realizes that respect and compassion are difficult to maintain when it comes to someone harming you.

he wonders, for a brief, fleeting moment, if he could be trusted to keep a calm composure if he were to come face to face with whoever attacked you in the future.

he thinks there’s a large chance that the answer is no, and he’s oddly not bothered by the idea at all.

“i do hold you quite dear,” he says kindly, voice softening an octave, “it is why i must ensure your safety. rest assured, events like today’s won’t happen again.”

“i hope you put as much energy into your own safety,” you counter, “i think inazuma would suffer more greatly if anything were to happen to you, rather than me.”

“i would disagree,” he says with an amused grin, “what disarray the nation would befall if the yashiro commissioner was grief stricken, don’t you think? unable to perform his duties.”

“would you grieve me so deeply, ayato?” it’s your turn to tease, stepping closer as you eye him with playful mischief, “would my absence alone call for the downfall of the nation? then it would only be proper of me to look after myself more carefully, if that’s the case.”

“yes,” he says softly, hesitant for a moment as though admitting as such is enough to admit the more…complicated feelings in his heart. “there is nothing i wouldn’t do to ensure your safety.”

he says the words a touch too seriously—it shocks even him. surely, if limits simply don’t exist if it comes to you, friend is not a term deep enough to truly describe what you are to him.

he wonders if friend feels as much of an injustice to your relationship to you as it does to him.

“i would grieve you too, ayato,” you admit, squeezing the hand he never pulled away, “would you keep yourself safe just for me?”

“do you doubt me?” he chuckles, raising an eyebrow, “i’ve never failed thus far, have i?”

“perhaps not,” you hum, stepping closer, “but just to be sure.”

“then for you,” he carefully pulls you along, falling back into step with you as his hand keeps yours still firmly in his grasp, “i will ensure my own wellbeing just as sacredly as yours.”

someone revoke my access to the word “fond” this instant. i think i got whiplash from how often i used it but i literally don’t know what other word describes “fond” as good as “fond” 😭 anyway!!! kamisato “i would draw my blade to the shogun herself for my love” ayato!!! what a man!!!

#writing tag #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #alhaitham x reader #ayato x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley x you #neuvillette x you #alhaitham x you #ayato x you #genshin x you #wriothesley fluff #neuvillette fluff #alhaitham fluff #ayato fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

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oomles · 2 years

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Hey guys, I'm sorry I’ve been so quiet on... pretty much everything lately. I genuinely apologize for not saying much until now, it’s just been.. A Time. So here’s a kinda long / kinda bummer life update.

For those who don’t know, I’ve been attempting to move out of Montana for the first time to pursue broader horizons in California. And long story short, it has been the most stressful and mentally taxing times I’ve experienced in a very very long while.

We started applying to places weeks ago, and have probably sent in apps to over 60 properties in 8+ cities by now. As of the time of typing this post, not a single landlord has accepted our applications. We were expected to be leaving two days ago, but we were able to beg our current landlord to extend our lease by a week.

The biggest deterant we’ve experience is that none of us have secured a “real” job in Cali yet. We’ve applied to so many locations in 3 hour radius to just try and get ourselves out there, but we can’t be employed when we don’t know where we’ll live and we can’t live where we don’t know where we’ll be employed. So a lot of landlords straight up won’t consider us even though we have plenty saved up / am self employeed.

I truly apologize to all my commissioners who have been put on hold because of this. I had fully intended to be caught up on everything before I caught covid last month, but then, well, I caught covid. Your patience has been more than appreciated. And to all the people currently in the queue waiting on their plush commission, I’d be more than willing to toss in some free art / merch to make up for it. I normally pride myself on my quick commission process, so not being to work on anything while I apply / pack has been super demoralizing...

In all honesty I’ve been having an extremely hard time keeping my chin up. If we don’t get a place confirmed before the 20th, we might have to just drive down to Cali anyway and hope we can find a place in person. Full stop - that terrifies me. It’s already scary enough moving out of my hometown, let alone leaving without a place secured. If it does come to that, I might have to give my axolotl up for adoption and it just... breaks my heart. I can keep her if I know where we’re going, but if we still don’t have a solid place to be it’ll be too hard to care for her...

I’ve spent most of my nights crying out of anxiety and stress, and it’s been just... so incredibly taxing. I was on top of the world earlier this year, and now my mental health has plummeted to scary depths that I haven’t felt in years. It’s been hard to do pretty much anything these days. (Shout out to the suicide crisis line, yall are real ones and genuinely helped me a few nights ago).

So uhhh. Idk. I just wanted to tell everyone what’s what. I’m sorry that I haven’t been social or been sharing anything of value, I just wanted to share what I’ve been up to when I’m not online. I’m hoping and praying for the best, but trying to prepare myself for the worst. Thanks for being so patient with me everyone, it’s genuinely really appreciated. I’m sorry if I’ve let any of you guys down...

#long post #personal junk

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wandawiccan60 · 2 years

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“Black Rose” A Bane/OC Story

Part 2: A New Spark

A/N: Hello guys its me again and thank you guys for reading my first chapter of Black Rose. And yes I know it took me a long time to take out part 2 but I finally got it out now so yayyy!!!🙂🙂🙂. I hope you guys enjoy this next part and again thank you to @jarvisrocks I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the first part. And I want to also thank to @kittycatcait219 for wanting this story to continue and I appreciate the support and feedback it means alot to me as a writer. Again thank you for requesting part 2 and I hope you enjoy enjoy the long awaited chapter. Please as always enjoy everyone!!!

WARNING!!!: 18+ ONLY!!! Some cursing, and some violence

Word Count: 3,782

Present Day:

The sound of Alina’s alarm clock next to her nightstand went off. She groaned and shifted to the side, and turned the alarm off with a small sigh. She wasn’t a morning person, but today was an important day to think about, not knowing what awaits.

Her door to her apartment room was knocking, and she stood up from her bed while putting on her pants and made her way to the door. As she opens the door, Talia, her adoptive sister, smiles at her.

“Hey Talia, please come in. Did you get the chance to talk to Bruce the other night about your investment project, as you call it?”

“They told me he couldn’t be present that night. He didn’t want to speak to anybody seems like he wanted to be left alone. But anyway, did you get the job as a journalist at the GCPD Headquarters?” said Talia while they both sat down on a brown table next to a window looking out through the city.

“I got the job just really nervous if any of these coppers try to get under my skin, that’s like the last thing I want to worry about the most really from this destructive city,” Alina said not liking how this will go down in the next couple days.

“Alina, you’ll be fine. I know you will. Remember what Bane and I have taught you? Trust nobody and take whatever it is necessary to do and show no mercy, you understand?” Talia said, placing a hand above Alina’s hands.

“I understand sister, I just want to get this over with I would rather be there with him out there doing more than just being a ridiculous person going around and making up nonsense stories or whatever people read nowadays,” Alina said in an annoyed tone.

“Alina, please trust me, it’ll be for just a few days until the time comes. I promise you that Bane would want to see us out there together. We all will rise once this city is under our hands. Remember what your purpose and destiny is when you joined us in The League of Shadows. My father’s legacy depends on you, me, and Bane. It is our purpose.”

Alina just nodded her head, knowing very well she had to be patient, knowing that her time to rise will come sooner than she thought. She just has to deal with a lot of cops, which Alina knows some of them are corrupt themselves, but she knows there are still the good ones out there, like Commissioner James Gordon. She knows he is one of the good cops in Gotham. Alina has heard him talk in the news, knowing that he is a man who finds justice and meaning to stop criminals that deserve to be in chains. She did to a certain level agree with the commissioner about what he says and does for this chaotic city.

“I know Talia. I know what my protocol is. I know my position, and I know your father will be proud of you once we have this city under our control in the end.”

“I know he’ll be proud of all three of us you’ll see and before I go, Bane is asking for you. He didn’t tell me why, but he wants to see you tonight.”

Alina got anxious whenever Bane asks her if it was for a task he wants her to do or just another training exercise for her to do. Both Alina and Bane rarely had any time together like father and daughter ever since he took her in. But ever since his mindset has been focusing on taking over Gotham and bringing down Bruce Wayne with it, she felt as if he doesn’t care about her as before. Like she means nothing to him anymore. It’s like being ignored once again, just like her old family.

But the times she had with him while she was being trained by the League, he will always talk about his younger years before he met Ra’s, his time in The Pit, helping her sister get out from prison, and also he would tell Alina about how grateful he is to have her as his daughter. But her most favorite moments were when he would teach her how to knit and take long walks in the wintertime. It was one of the best moments and times that she felt alive once

“Well, I wonder what he wants me to do this time. But thank you, Talia, for letting me know I’ll see him tonight. Just know I don’t sometimes like it when he asks for me.”

Talia just chuckled under her breath, which she knows about Alina’s relationship with Bane. She also before would spend most of her time with Alina while he wasn’t around. The things that the two would do is talk for hours about anything, her time in The Pit while Bane looked after her, stories of her father, and most of all Talia was like the big sister Alina never thought she would ask for in a long time.

Alina always wished for a big sister back when she was in Maine. Since she was the only child, she always wanted to have some company and have someone to at least talk to and feel safe whenever she felt scared or just need a shoulder to cry on. Which she never had the chance to experience, but now that she has Talia in her life, Alina felt lucky to have her around. Even though they aren’t blood-related, it still feels as if Talia was the sister she could have never had.

Now that she is 24 years old, she never thought for a moment about wanting to have a normal life. She never had time to have some friends or even think about dating boys. She knows that deep down if anybody knew about her true identity, she knows people will get hurt or get killed. That’s why she always kept to herself throughout her teenage years and only had Bane and Talia as her only loyal friends and family to talk to and trust the most. Which she is grateful to have, but at some points when she is by herself, she sometimes wished she had a friend or mostly someone to love at least.

“Very well, my dear. And Alina, just know that I love you and I care about you always I'll never stop worrying about you I know we all haven’t had time to talk just the three of us alone but just so you know that Bane also loves you very much. Just know that we are still here for you and if there’s something you need to talk about or need don't hesitate to talk to me or Bane ok?"

"Yes, sister I know I love you both as well just miss seeing and talking to you both that's all but I know how our plan to take over Gotham is important to us three just hope that once this is over we could maybe get away from Gotham and start a new life just the three of us, I don't know if you ever thought about that before," Alina said which Talia then nodded her head which she has been thinking about that for a while.

"I would like that as well I do. After Gotham is down to ashes we will go somewhere far away and leave forget about this city completely I promise you on that and so will Bane it'll be just the three of us I cross my heart," Talia said as she cross her heart with he index finger.

"And hope to die?" Alina said both sisters chuckled at the same time.

"Alright you silly girl, I'll see you later please be safe out there tonight, and remember don't trust anyone and go straight to Bane after you get out of work, understand?"

"I understand sister it was nice seeing you again and you be safe out there too, I'll reach out to you if I need anything."

Talia then just nodded her head and then she made her way to the door but before she open the door she then remembered about the necklace that she brought for Alina.

"Alina I almost forgot as well, I found this in your old room before we went to go train with the League," Talia said to which she then handed her a small black squared box to her sister.

Alina then open the little box and inside it was her old necklace that was given to her by Nancy. She forgot about this old necklace which she still remembered that devastating day and it still haunted her.

"My old necklace, thank you Talia I thought I lost it forever but thank you," Alina said to which she then hugged her sister.

"Your welcome little sister, again please be safe and I'll see you again soon," she said, and then she made her way to the door, and then she was gone.

Alina was now alone in her apartment to which she could just only hear the sounds of the city outside of her window. She then looked back at her old necklace which she then placed around her neck feeling the cold silver chain on her skin. A small smile now spread on her lips seeing the piece of jewelry on her neck feeling in a good way complete once again.

__________________________________________

5 Years Ago Somewhere Outside of Gotham:

“Again but with more speed,” said the head trainer who Alina then placed herself in her stance position for the 8th time.

As she raised her sword out in front of her opponent, the man older than Alina then also placed himself back in his stance position, raising his sword towards her as well. As they both were in their ready forms, the trainer then yell out fight in another language to which Alina then took the first move.

After circling and clanking their swords twice, her opponent then tried to stab her in the chest, but Alina was quicker. As she then blocked the sword and twirl a bit and hit him in the face with her right elbow making him stumble back a bit and without warning she crouch kick his legs and tumbled down to the ground and placed her sword on top of his neck while catching her breath.

“Enough Alina, well done. You have quite the spirit. I am impressed. However, we will continue with your training tomorrow morning before the sun rises. You are all dismissed.”

Alina then nodded her head toward the head trainer, who then put away her sword in a wooden black box that was given to her on the first day of training.

“You have done well today my Alina, you have a gift in handling that sword of yours I am very surprised with the way you put down your opponent to the ground, which has never been seen in years until now,” said Bane to which he then stood next to Alina while she finished putting away her weapon.

“Thank you father, I never thought I would have that in me. It just came out of me naturally like as if I must have known this before in a past life.”

Bane then placed a hand on Alina’s right shoulder, which was a way of showing her how proud he was of her. Bane has seen Alina grow progressively since the first day she joined The League. He knew that once she picked the sword up; he saw something in Alina that he knew right from the start she would one day she will become let herself get put down easily before anything else. Since the night he took her in, he knew that teaching her the ways of The League would strengthen her,

“Come with me. There is something that I want to show you and you should know about,” Bane said while he took her left hand in his huge right hand. They made their way out of the training room into a long, dimly black corridor.

When they reached the bottom of the building, they then approached a dark red door with the Leagues’ symbol in the middle of it, and then Bane opened the door. And inside Alina saw what looked to be a knob sword cane that was displayed on top of an elegant black table while next to it was a black uniform displayed in all of its glory while the smell of dragon’s blood surrounded the dimly lit room with red and white candles. And above the items stood also a portrait of a man who she believed to be behind The League of Shadows Ra’s Al Ghul.

“You may wonder what is this place and who is that man in the picture. That man right there, Alina, is Ra’s Al Ghul himself. A long time ago, I protected and saved your sister Talia from The Pit, and after that, he then trained me, but we both didn’t see eye to eye, so they dismissed me from the group. He thought my beliefs were too extreme for his agenda, but that’s when he left for Gotham and it changed everything.”

Alina then stepped forward and placed a hand on the sword that belong to the great mercenary. She could feel the power and spirit of Ra’s Al Ghul like he was calling to her.

“What happen to him after he left for Gotham?”

“The Batman happened, Ra’s once trained him when he brought him in, but he then betrayed his master thinking that our ways about justice were wrong and that’s when he killed him that day. But now Talia and I have taken Ra’s place and we will continue what he started. We are the start of a new era for The League.”

Alina then looked up at the man on the portrait, who she couldn’t understand why would Ra's would come here to Gotham and for what was the purpose. Then she walked next to the black uniform that was worn by him and that is when Bane told her something that she would never forget.

“I brought you here for a reason, my little rose. I see potential in you, and so does Talia. She and I think you are the one who Ra's has been looking and been waiting for that The Batman couldn’t be. His successor, once when I and Talia aren’t here anymore, you will guide the group to continue following in the footsteps of your sister, me, and Ra’s Al Ghul. you will be the next leader and the new master of The League of Shadows and always remember this Alina. It is your destiny, your purpose, and your calling for the future of The League that is in your hands. I know you might not understand right now what I mean, my love, but once the day you are ready, you will know what I mean.”

Alina then raised Ra's sword in her hands. It felt somewhat heavy in the palm of her hands, which then Bane helped Alina bring the sword a little higher, and guided her to do some swings here in there. This made Alina smile up at her father to which underneath his mask a smile spread through his face, even if she couldn’t see it with her own eyes.

Bane then placed the sword back on the black table, which he then bent on one knee and bowed his head towards the portrait of Ra’s Al Ghul. Alina watch her father confusingly do this, but she then walked next to him and made the same gesture as he did. This made Bane look down at her daughter and place a hand on her shoulder, not knowing what the future will lie ahead for his little Alina, his little rose, her future inside The League.

______________________________________

Alina was trying her best to come up with a story relating to the disappearance of The Batman. She has heard the stories about the vigilante hero who, as the rumors go, killed Harvey Dent, the White Knight of Gotham, and that they blamed The Bat for murdering him with his bare hands. Or so they say. However, as she is part of The League, Talia and Bane have told her about who The Batman truly is. And that is when the first time she was told about Bruce Wayne who was the same man who killed Ra’s Al Ghul his student who was trained and was supposed to be Ra's successor. But he instead became the creature of the night and stopped bringing Gotham down to its knees, which then made her realize who the real enemy was.

As Alina tried her best to finish up this last page, she made her way to the small kitchen that was across from her desktop to refill her paper cup with coffee. As she made her way inside, she accidentally bumped into someone she didn’t see and got a bit of water trenched in her black long sleeve shirt.

“Oh, shit I’m so sorry miss, here let me get you a napkin to dry that off,” said the person who was making his way to get a couple of napkins from the small kitchen counter.

“It’s fine don’t worry the watermarks don’t. show please, it’s not a big dea-,” said Alina, to which he looked up from her shirt to the person who spilled the drink at her.

Alina couldn’t let any more words out of her mouth, since the person she was seeing in front of her was handsome. He was wearing his black uniform clothes,

“Are you sure? I mean, since it’s a pretty chilly night, you wouldn’t want to freeze yourself out there more. Again I’m sor-,”

“Look I said it’s fine it’ll just dry off by itself but thank you it’s unnecessary and I’m in a hurry to finish this stupid article I’m writing about and I want to go home soon,” Alina said which she made her way around the man and went to the coffee stand behind him.

“Hey no problem, I was just being helpful. Sorry for getting in your way,” the young officer said while he defensively raised his hands.

Alina sighed underneath her breath, trying her best to keep herself relaxed. While she finished filling in her cup with coffee, she then made her way back to her desktop but on the corner of her right eye. She saw the young officer talking to one of his other cop buddies about some case he has been working on for a while. She tried her best to get this story done as much as she could, but every time she tried to think of something, her mind would go back to the guy she bumped with. All she could see in her mind was him, not knowing why she felt some type of vibe towards this man.

After what seemed about an hour later, she then made her way out of the headquarters and off to see Bane down into the deepest depths of the underground sewers of Gotham. As she made a turn around the corner at the end of the street, she then, to her surprise, ran into the same young cop from earlier.

“Sorry mis-, oh hey it’s you again, well what a coincidence isn’t it?” said the young cop to which Alina. She shrugged her shoulders, trying her best not to make eye contact with him.

“Yes, what a coincidence, hmm,” Alina said while they both stood there. An awkward silence fell upon the two, and then he finally spoke a moment later.

“So umm, I guess have a good night since you told me you wanted to go back home quickly but I guess I’ll see you around,” He said while making his way towards one car that was parked behind him.

“Wait, um, I wanted to say I’m sorry for acting like a straight-up bitch earlier to you. It’s just that I sometimes have a hard time not talking to other people outside of my bubble, and I don’t socialize much either, I sometimes keep things to myself but I wanted to say again that I’m sorry and I have just been feeling quite uneasy lately too.”

It surprised Alina to hear herself say sorry to a stranger that she had just met tonight. It was such a big step for her personality that it made her feel embarrassed and weak at the same time. They taught her to never feel remorse or forgiveness for anyone in particular, especially for someone who worked for the law.

“Hey, it’s alright. I know what you mean. I sometimes have those days too, believe me. You don’t need to apologize, and...damn, it’s getting cold out here. Umm if you don't mind me asking but if you like I can give you a lift, I insist?”

Alina wanted to decline the offer at first, but he was right it was getting chilly out here since it’s already winter here in Gotham. While she tried her best to make up an excuse to say no to the young cop, but deep down she really would like to get out of the cold. As the young man waited for a response, she then just then gave up and in her mind, she said fuck it.

"That's very kind of you and I appreciate it I guess we should get going then," Alina said while the young cop nodded in response both of them walking towards the black car together.

"By the way, I didn't catch your name, what's your name if you don't mind me asking?" said the young man to which Alina thought for a moment if she should either use her real name or her fake name. Knowing that she has to be undercover but something about this cop she in some weird way could trust him.

It is quite rare for her to even be talking to someone that she knows works for the GCPD but this one was different from the others.

"It's..., Alina, please to meet you, and what about yours?"

"Blake, John Blake, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said while he opened the door to Alina to which she smiled to him and made her way inside the car.

And just like that Alina and John drive off into the cold night not knowing that both of their lives will be drastically changed forever.

____________________________

A/N: Thank you so much guys for reading my new chapter. I know that there wasn't as much in this chapter as the first one and I decided to also spark a relationship between Alina and Blake but I guarantee you guys that the next chapter will be better promise!!!😅😅😅 Again thank you guys for the support and sticking around as always and I'll catch you guys again very soon. See Ya!!!🥰🥰🥰

#bane fanfic #bane #tom hardy #john blake #John Blake X OC #Batman the dark knight rises #tom hardy fanfic #fanfic

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yandere-society · 4 years

Text

Moonlight

Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

Synopsis: Taehyung was a man of many things: handsome, young, rich, the reigning lord of the Kim manor. He was a man adored, a man respected. But beneath the studly exterior, he held a dark, demonic secret that floated towards the surface once every full moon. It was this secret that would unknowingly entangle you in his claws until there was no way out.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Yandere themes, Possessive Tae, Werewolves, Kidnapping mention, Sexual assault, Murder, Death, also it’s unedited cause I hate myself

Headline: Beast Of The Night Strikes Again! 2 Dead, Several Injured

Admin: @roses-ruby

The town suffers through another full moon of terror as the one described as the ‘dog beast’ struck again late last night. Lawmen are baffled at the carnage, describing the victims torn limbs and missing hearts as an act- “most definitely inhumane.” Townsfolk have stated that they heard the creature growl and moan for hours on end until it seemingly disappeared near the Kim manor. As for the owner of the manor, Kim Taehyung - an attractive bachelor who inherited his great grandfather’s land - refused to comment and dismissed the claims of such a being as “ludicrous and delusional.” Whatsoever it may be, the fact of the matter is that there is someone or something raging with bloodlust every time the moon shines its brightest and it might just be out for your heart next.

“It is truly incredible how some of the most credible news sources have begun to sound so half-witted these days… ‘attractive bachelor?’ Seems like you’re up for auction in the middle of this tragic incident…”

“It is a small town with unusually large tales…they’ll do anything to sell their trashy story…” He runs his fingers through his long black locks, a small huff of irritation leaving his lips.

“A story that will keep children up past midnight I’m sure…” The older gentleman places today’s paper back on the table and walks up to where the younger stood, matching his distant stare out the window. “The flowers were exceptionally beautiful in this year’s bloom. Such a shame they’ll be dead soon.”

It was a passive observation, one he didn’t have to respond to; however, it was his nature to always hold a firm stance on even the slightest of interactions. He hums in agreement, gazing out towards the colorfully green garden that his study overlooked. But rather than admiring the beauty of the large field, his eyes were instead hooked on a small figure bustling about the grounds in a long black dress.

“Master,” A calm voice interrupted him from his trance, “Shall I adjust your schedule in case you were to head into town today?”

His long-time butler, Seung, bowed quietly in his direction.

“No need.” He replies mindlessly.

“Now, now,” His uncle next him chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening, “It would do you good to show your handsome bust among the public. Your presence as Lord might provide some comfort…”

As if he should be the one comforting weeping mothers and terrified children.

He was about to decline the smiling face of this man who bore him nothing but animosity, but he was interrupted by his uncle’s careless gaze suddenly modifying into something additionally sinister.

“Or is it that you’re too tired for such a simple task? You look as if you have not slept in ages. Are you doing alright, perhaps?”

Other than the shiver that ran down Taehyung’s spine at his foxiness, he was unfazed by the weighty question. Usually, his feigned concern would make him chuckle, if he wasn’t so emotionally exhausted from last night’s events.

“I’m fine.” He turns to Seung without missing a beat, “Uncle is right. Get the carriage ready, I will be heading into town today.”

“Yes, Master.” Seung bows, but before he could quietly leave the room, Taehyung calls for him again. “And get my Uncle’s carriage ready for departure as well. I am sure at his age he would love nothing more than to be resting at home this very moment.”

There was a small confrontational silence between the senior and him after his loaded remark. But it vanished the very next second when his Uncle began to chuckle loudly, as if there was nothing but mirth between the two of them.

“You are right on the mark, young lad. As sharp as ever I see.” He spins around, walking back to the table he once sat at “I shall be out of your hair soon.”

Taehyung watches him as he picks up the paper he had been scrutinizing before he commences his departure from the chamber.

“Are you perhaps interested in the dog beast?”

“Why, not at all,” He responds calmly, turning to the younger with the same somber expression as before, “I just need some entertainment for the road. Surely, you don’t mind?”

He did not. For now, he desired his uncle’s departure the most. It was not as if he could see his own forthcoming demise stained in the ink of that paper.

Autumn’s cool breeze surrounds your body as you tend to the large grounds of the Kim manor, trimming off uneven stems from a massive rose bush.

“___,” A frantic voice suddenly calls your name, capturing your attention as your gaze falls down onto a petite figure dressed in a similar maid’s uniform running towards you, “___! Did you hear?”

“About?”

“Today’s paper!” Seulgi spoke out of breath, like it was the most obvious thing, “Those men…aren’t they the same lads who-”

“SSHHH!” You hiss, blocking her loudmouth with your palm. Her whines against your hand were similar to that of an adolescent as you whirled your head around the garden, making sure no one was near your vicinity. “I told you not to speak a word of that!”

Seulgi successfully tugs you off of her, “I know! But is it not bizarre? That beast attacked those men!”

“There is no beast!” You growled, “Everyone in town was aware that Wan and his men were good-for-nothing hooligans! They probably wandered into the forest late at night, drunk and belligerent, and attracted a bear!”

“Hmm, perhaps…” Seulgi pouts, “But what about the articles? All those farmers who lost their cattle the same exact way… with their hearts missin-”

“I’m sure those are nothing but carnivorous rodents.” You huff in irritation, picking up the sheers to return to your work. The girl besides you threw a tantrum using her feet, and you wonder when exactly it was that you befriended such a child. “Are you even done with your station or will I have to do that for you again after the Housekeeper is done scolding you?”

This manages to scare her off, and you watch her retreating figure in slight humor before turning back to the rosebush. As you snap another set of leaves, you manage to take a glance at the window of the lord’s study, apprehensively watching his back disappear further into his room.

All you’ve wanted from this manor and its lords was a chance to toil quietly – in peace. Your simple servant status does not offend you, rather it provides you security in relations with the world. You were not interested in meddling with anyone’s affair, especially with those who lived in powerful and dangerous realities. So, it does not matter.

What you saw last night, near the clearing behind the manor does not matter. It had nothing to do with you, and you were planning on keeping it that way.

Lord Kim was annoyed.

Really though, when was he not? As the carriage decelerates into the gates of his estate, his exhaustion only multiplies. Faking a straight face and an empty gaze took its toll on him, even if he had been playing theater his whole life. It was hard enough to keep up with this perfect charade as the lord of the manor, but it had just gotten worse with time…and with the incidents.

He was reluctant to head into town, leer over dismembered bodies and chat with the commissioner, but did so anyway thanks to his uncle’s instigation. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice - any sign of weakness would invite his extended family to sink their teeth and claws into him, wringing him dry within a matter of minutes. His father died too early and Taehyung did not bear a successor yet, so whoever would be the first to either exhaust, kill or seduce him would eventually take his place as lord. After being unfortunate enough to witness countless amounts of cruelty from them since age eight, he knew he had to keep his farce strong.

Common folk would think he was protecting his blessed birthright. But in a deep, hidden corner of his mind, the reality loomed that neither this life nor this manor was blessed in the slightest.

“We’re home, my lord.” His thoughts are interrupted as the carriage stops, the door opening to reveal a flawlessly still Seung waiting for him to disembark.

As he exited his carriage, his shoulders drooping and head spinning, his eyes managed to fall on you in the distance. You stood far away, underneath the stone canopy of the servant’s quarters, next to that bumbling friend of yours with your head bowed as the housekeeper shouted herself silly at the both you. It seems that you have once again found trouble thanks to the petite nitwit by your side.

Yet still, even with your gaze downcast, he could sense the poise in your stance. An aura of composure and self-confidence that has never left your being no matter where you stood, or who stood over you. At first, he just happened to relate to you and the notion of keeping together a tough act. But over time, he came to realize that you weren’t acting at all – that you, a mere servant, were as perfectly assured as you seemed.

It made him envious.

“Master?” Seung pulled him back to reality.

He turned away, scuffing his expensive shoes amongst the gravel to head into the direction of his manor. Yet still, after the small sight of you, he couldn’t help but smile to himself for the first time that night.

“Dinner is served.”

A tray was lifted to reveal a large pot of thick, saucy white soup. He had wanted something light ever since the previous night, and the chef had delivered quite nicely. Taehyung sits patiently, waiting to be served as the maidservants walk into the room with the housekeeper. His eyes immediately land on you out if habit, and he wonders if you were to tend to him tonight. But to his surprise, it’s your friend who comes up to the table to oblige him his dinner instead. She takes a ladle and dips it into the soup – just a minute, she forgot to pick up his soup bowl?

Realizing she forgot the bowl; she looks startled for a bit before she hovers a hand underneath the ladle and walks closer to his direction. He has to try really hard not to burst out into a fit of laughter as he witnesses you shake in fear at her antics. Seems like he was not the only one distracted because the very next second your friend trips over her own foot on the way to his bowl and loses her grip on the soup-filled ladle, which flies towards him.

And in an instant, his whole head was wet and runny with his dinner. It was quiet for the first minute – which appeared to have stretched out into hours for the servants – until many different voices began shouting at once.

“Y-young Master! T-Towel- I shall fetch a towel!”

“MY LORD!”

“My lord! I-I-I apologize I-!”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Your face was stiff in horror as you watched the creamy soup drip off his hair. Seung ran back into the room with a towel in his arm as the housekeeper bellowed at your friend.

Before Seung could wipe his hair, Taehyung held his wrist and took the towel into his own hands. Then he stood up, surprising the whole room, even the shrieking housekeeper, shut. He lightly wiped the edges of his bangs for a minute in silence, feeling the wet soup drool into his shirt before he turned towards your friend.

“Well, what a mess…” He stated absentmindedly, watching the girl shrink under his gaze until she became as small as a pebble. She seemed to be trying her utter best not to cry.

“Lord…” A soft, but confident voice interrupted the dead silence of the room. You stepped up next to your friend, your head down as you cleared your throat, “It…It is my fault actually…”

Your friend turns to you in shock. Everyone in the room was now glancing at you; the servants with petrified eyes and Taehyung with amused ones.

“Explain yourself.”

“Th-that…I spoke about the dog beast who was in today’s paper to miss Kang and…and I seem to have frightened her which is why she’s been a bit distracted…b-but it is my fault, so I deserve the punishment.”

“N-no!” You friend suddenly cries in a strained voice and you elbow her to keep shut. She opens and closes her mouth like a fish, before complying to your implication with her eyes squeezed shut tight. The servants all held their breath, waiting for the lord’s next move. They all seem to flinch when he sighs,

“…I see…” Taehyung holds in a chuckle, “You’re right miss ___, this indeed seems to be your fault…”

Seulgi quietly whines in her throat and you wish she could for once read your mind and jam her loud trap.

“…Well then,” Taehyung’s deep voice captures your full attention, “Meet me in my room an hour before midnight. I shall decide on your punishment by then.”

No one said anything further, but they all seemed to be thinking of the exact same thing. Even Seung appeared disturbed. But…it just couldn’t be… The lord has never even taken an interest in women much less bed with one. You, too astonished to remember your place, straightened your posture and stared at him straight in the eye for the very first time. There wasn’t any hint of jest or error, which left you further baffled at the Lord’s request.

No, perhaps it was just you who misunderstood.

“Y-yes Lord.” You manage to spit out.

At your approval the lord smiles, which startles you out of your insolence. You return to your humble position as the Lord begins to walk away from the room.

“Seung, prepare my bath.” Taehyung calls out in glee.

“…Yes, master…”

You sigh, standing in front of the thick wooden door of your Lord’s master chamber.

“Well, there goes the goal of keeping from trouble…” You whisper to yourself in defeat. And thanks to that gigantic fool Seulgi, you were late to your own punishment trial. She would not stop crying and apologizing, even though you told her it was now your problem, so she has nothing to be sorry about.

Still, the main dilemma for you in this moment was not her, but your current circumstances. Why were you called out to the Lord’s chamber an hour before midnight? The sensitive time frame would provide anyone the wrong impression, not just you. If he really were to ask you to…bed with him…what then?

You quickly shake your head no. It was not healthy for you to have such thoughts about your Lord. Since adolescence, you had been a reasonable girl who was guided by logic. There was no rationality in this idea and you’re sure Lord Kim had a good excuse for calling you out so late – an excuse that has nothing to do with...whatever you were just thinking. After pulling yourself together with a deep breath, you knock on the wood three times.

“Come in.” You immediately hear, which allows you to nervously turn the handle and push open the door.

There stood Lord Kim, by the end of the bed, in his sleepwear. His hair was a mess of slight, drooping curls, possibly the aftermath of his bath, and his stare was a lot more lax than normal. You gulped quietly under his gaze, stepping into the room and letting the door shut behind you.

“You’re late, miss ___.” His voice was deep, but soft. It felt as if he was trying to jester you.

“I-I apologize, my Lord. I was held up by the housekeeper…”

It was a lie and you did feel guilty, but it would also be immensely satisfying to witness that old witch being chided.

“My, my, it seems like she is always after you and that friend of yours,” You could hear what sounded like mischief in his tone, “Which reminds me, she came to speak to me.”

“The housekeeper?”

“No, your friend. She told me you lied for her.”

That was the last straw. You were going to kill that idiot.

“I…I…S…” What were you to say now? Should you apologize for your dishonesty?

“I think it’s commendable.” You were interrupted from your thoughts by your Lord’s words. When you meet his eyes, you see him smiling gently in your direction. “You tried to protect your friend. It takes a good heart for that.”

“Thank you, sire…” You weren’t sure how to adequately respond - if he really was complimenting you. Your uncertainty stemmed from your upbringing; rather than a trait to compensate, behaving and caring for your younger siblings was regarded as your duty. It was also why maid work came so easily to you. And Seulgi, with her childish nature yet endearing personality, reminded you of those you tended to back home, so you considered looking after her a mere responsibility.

“I do like that nature of yours.” He proceeds casually, making you blush. “But I still have to punish you for your dishonesty.”

You nod your head, eyes falling to the floor. Even without gaping at him, you were aware of how strong his gaze was. It was only natural to get disciplined as a servant, but for it to come from Lord Kim himself made you fearful.

“Miss ___, sleep with me.”

Your head whirls up to meet his stare, shock painting your face.

“W-”

“Please don’t misunderstand me.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “Although you’re quite beautiful, I only desire your lap.”

…

What?

“I-” Your Lord stutters, facing away from you and crossing arms in embarrassment, “I just…these days I have been having some trouble sleeping. Many peers have remarked on my dark circles and laxing attitude. This won’t do! As the Lord of the Kim manor, I have to appear fully rested and in the best condition at all times or else.”

He turns back to your direction,

“W…when I was a young lad…I would sleep on my mother’s lap. It was the most comforting of places to me and sleep was never a cause for concern back then. Which is why…I wanted to seek that same comfort once more…so that I may be able to rest heartedly and prepare myself to face the world of politics tomorrow. I just…I was wondering if I could borrow your lap for a few nights?”

It was quiet after his explanation. Your mind gradually processing all the information in his tale. He appeared to be immensely nervous, as if waiting for you to decline. You had to hide your amusement.

“I am ready for my punishment, my Lord.”

The young Lord smiles, which has your heart racing. Surely, he was a beautiful man.

“Thank you. Please sit on the bed, near my headboard.” He orders bashfully.

You swung another sheet over the clothing line.

Days had passed since your initial ‘punishment,’ and today would mark the first whole month of you lending your lap to your Lord. Your nightly time with the Lord had become an occurrence you cherished. There was so much you managed to learn about the man who rested on you – like how he scrunches his nose when he encounters a nightmare or how he moans only when he is in his deepest of slumbers. He was different than how you originally imagined; his cold exterior was nothing but a farce. In reality, he was so childlike and so innocent.

So different from other men.

Yes, that’s right, he was nothing like Wan. Remembering that scoundrel had you shivering in your legs from disgust. You usually didn’t have the most pleasant encounters with the men in town, but Wan had been a special case. Although you did not wish to think ill of the dead, there was nothing ever good about that man, and frankly you’re not very upset that he’s gone.

You remember the day much too clearly; it was a week before he would meet his demise. The housekeeper had sent you and Seulgi into town on a shopping errand – she wanted you to pick up meat and vegetables for dinner. It wouldn’t be the first time you went into town for a chore, but it would certainly be the most unpleasant.

As you and Seulgi stepped out of the farmer’s store carrying a load of groceries in a paper bag you held with both arms, you spotted Wan and his friends walking towards you from the opposite direction. They were cackling loudly, drunk in the middle of the day and out of their minds. You paid them no attention, ready to head back to the manor but your unwitty friend stared straight at them until Wan eventually made eye contact with her.

“Well, well, well,” He slurred in your direction, catching your gaze, “If it isn’t the whores of Kim manor!”

Because of his brash nature, everyone’s regard fell on the two of you. You tried to look unfazed by his disgusting behavior, taking Seulgi by the hand and leading her around the men. But Wan interjected your path as his friends laughed on.

“We need to get back. Leave us alone.” You stated calmly

“Why, we won’t keep you for long,” He grinned, and you recoiled from the alcohol in his breath, “Besides, they won’t miss you- them rich folk. Isn’t that right, fellas?”

His friends began to shout and woo, enclosing in on you almost completely, and you could feel Seulgi shaking behind you.

“We need…to get back.” You say once again, cursing at yourself when your voice cracks. Wan throws his head back and laughs as hard as he could while the townsfolk just observe the show. Anger begins to well up alongside the fear and you purse your lips, picking up your feet and tugging Seulgi along.

It didn’t matter if you had to bulldoze through him, you were going to get back to Kim manor no matter what. So you step close, ready to collide into him before he suddenly sidesteps. Thinking he was distracted; you weren’t prepared for his swift movement and you certainly weren’t prepared to feel a hard thwack on your backside. A breath of surprise leaves your throat and the feeling in your arms disappear, which lets the paper bag fall out of your grasp, spilling its contents along the street. You stare at the ground, paralyzed by shock as Seulgi meekly cries out your name.

“Wan, you mad lad!” Someone from his group yells, clasping their hand into his in jest while they all express their amusement at your humiliation. The group aggressively howls, making perverse remarks before eventually continuing down the road, fully disregarding your presence. They left, without any consequences. As if they didn’t just horribly disgrace you.

“___...” Seulgi steps up to your side, crying her eyes out in worry. If this was another time you would console her – scold her for being a crybaby – but at the moment you could think of nothing. You had been a maidservant for almost a decade now and even then, you had never been treated so awfully. What’s worse is that they all saw…they all saw and said nothing.

Not wanting to waste a minute further, you fall to your knees and start gathering the vegetables that fell about. Seulgi calls your name again but you focus on your task. You have to stay composed, you have to stay composed – you repeat it to yourself like mantra. But that sensation of emptiness returns, and you freeze. Before you knew it, you were trembling on the floor with tears streaming down your face and everyone still watched on.

“___.” Seulgi wrapped herself around you tightly. For a moment your fortitude was shattered as you cried in her arms on that dirty street.

Wan was most definitely scum, you conclude with a huff as you finish straightening the laundered bedsheet. But still, you halt, dying the way he did…it’s something you wouldn’t wish on anyone. Your mind wanders back to that paper, torn limbs and missing hearts. Could it possibly be related to what you saw that night on the previous full moon? With a frown, you stare up at the sky, watching the whiffs of white clouds swirl through the blue fabric.

“___!” You hear the familiar shouts of your name and turn to see Seulgi running towards you. “___, there you are!”

“What is it this time?” You sigh as she encloses in on you

“___, is it true that you are consummating with the Lord?”

Dropping the sheet out of your hands, you spin towards the loudmouthed idiot, “W-w-w-where did you hear that?”

“The other maidservants were whispering on it,” She replies with an innocent grin, “Is he as good as the rumors say?”

“A-a-a-as the w-what? What rumors- what- consummate- a-are you out of your mind?” You were blushing from head to toe.

Seulgi looks dejected at your response, “So it isn’t true?”

“Of course not!”

“Ohh,” She groans sullenly, “But I guess it would be impossible for a lord to take interest in maidservants like us.”

Your bashfulness vanishes in an instant. She was correct, there is absolutely no reason for you to find yourself special. Lord Kim had made it clear that he has no interest in you, he just requires a lap and is too proud to ask someone close. This was originally a punishment for you and nothing more – you shouldn’t become too attached.

“___?” Seulgi’s voice was low, “Are you alright? You seem down…”

“…I’m fine.” You mutter, composing yourself, “But more importantly…why are you here to ask me about baseless gossip? Are you done with your station? Remember you have to use the right tools- just scrubbing vigorously doesn’t work-”

“Oh my god- yes, yes, yes!” She responds by childishly covering her ears, “I have to use the coil sponge not the foam one, I get it!”

You begin to scold her as she laughs, prancing around the grass without a care. But soon the humor dies down and it was time to return to work. Before she leaves for her station, she makes a passive comment.

“Tonight’s another full moon. In the night of Samhain.” There was something dim about her tone as she gazes up towards the sky. You join her, wondering if she somehow had the same bad premonition as you did.

While you were chatting with your friend, Taehyung was having tea with a man he’d rather throw into a river.

“What brings you here?”

“My, do you sound cold.” His uncle chuckles, taking another sip of his tea, “Am I not allowed to visit my nephew out of fondness?”

“Well, after twenty-so years, consider me surprised.” Taehyung deadpans, which only further humors the elder.

“Perhaps I do have a motive.” He grins for a moment before all signs of amusement vanish from his expression. “I could not help but toil my mind over that paper from before. The townsfolk swore they heard the dog beast growl late into the night before fading behind Kim manor.”

“I thought we agreed the paper was nothing more than gossip fodder.”

“And perhaps that’s all it is.” His uncle’s smile was innocent but held such contempt. “However, as a gentleman who resides in the city, I find myself quite inclined by the mysteries of small towns such as this.”

“What nonsense,” Taehyung scoffs, “Are you saying you wish to investigate this supernatural rubbish the townsfolks gripe about?

“Indeed! The dog beast is nothing but rubbish!” The elder’s laughter was hearty, “But then, there is the question of who killed those men?”

The room was silent, drowning in the animosity the two men felt for one another. Neither one spoke – his Uncle because he had nothing more to say and Taehyung because he felt his throat clogging. He wanted to decline, desperate to splurge words of refusal, but then the fact that he had something to hide becomes too apparent.

“Surely, you won’t mind me staying? Just for one night?”

“Stay as you wish, uncle.”

You were already situated on his bed when your Lord swung the door open.

The sound made you jump, and you immediately rose to your feet to show respect. He began walking towards you in a fast, heavy pace with his feet striking the wood. His face had you unnerved – anger in his frown as well as what you could only describe as dismay in his eyes. Before you could open your mouth to react, you were taken into his arms in a sudden and swift motion.

It left your mind blank.

He squeezed himself onto you, his chest colliding with yours as his scent surrounded your senses. Your arms were hovering his back while your fingers curled into themselves, unsure of your position at the moment. Lord Kim hugged you tight, as if he was afraid.

“M-my Lo-”

“Tonight.” He interjected, muffling into neck as he laid his head on your shoulder, “Do not let me go tonight, whatever you do. Hold onto me as tight as you possibly can, do you hear me? Do not let me wander, I beg you.”

His tone broke your heart. He sounded so frightened – so desperate and you had no clue on how to help him. The Lord has always been the strength of this household. No one had ever witnessed him so distressed, not even at the previous Lord’s funeral. Hesitantly, you placed your fingers against his vertebrate and sat back on the mattress, guiding him gently down with you.

“I won’t let you go, my Lord.” You didn’t know what else to say.

He placed his head on your lap, arms still clinging onto you like a child. His mind seemed to be in the middle of a warzone against himself. The memory of a young man sitting in front of his father’s casket, immobile and silent as a rock, was still so vivid to you. You had only been at Kim Manor for a few months back then, and you remember being disturbed by his attitude – wondering if he had any feelings at all. But after learning about how often his extended family plotted against him, to the point of kidnapping him as an eight-year-old, you began to view that tearless boy with pity.

Watching him tremble in your lap has you reaching out to him. Your digits tread into his soft hair and you slowly move them about to calm his tremors. He seems to respond; his quivers coming to a slight halt at your touch.

You don’t know for how long you rubbed his head, listening to him breath.

You don’t know when you fell asleep.

His whole body was aching as he walked towards the grass, trying to ease the sharp pain in his head.

He had been taught that the best place to alter was out in an open, murky environment. Somewhere you could feel the air on your skin as the patches of hair slit through your pores like needles through fabric. Yet still, somewhere impenetrable through the naked eye. There was an area like so behind Kim manor – a clearing that was connected to a large acre of uninhabited woods. And among those acres laid several swamps and bogs, which formed a thick layer of fog around the grounds of the manor – most prominent on the night of the full moon.

It was the perfect place for him, who had been poisoned with this modification.

With his mind as cloudy as the fog, he thinks back to the first time he witnessed his father alter. He was far too young, a month away from ten, when he was brought out to this clearing and visually counseled on his dreadful future. More than anything he wanted to look away, he did not wish to see his beloved father become this monster, but Seung held his hand tight and told him to hold witness for his very own sake. And he witnessed – witnessed his father thrash about as if he wanted to claw his own brains out and he cried.

He cried along with his father. But there was never any other option for him than to tolerate the dread from his place as heir to Kim manor.

It was always painful, every moment his heart pumped blood into his body, he moaned in agony. While the night raged on, he noticed his panting grew deeper by the second – tone sinking to a gruff growl which rips through his chest. His eyes and sense of smell grew keener, large nails grotesquely rip through his skin and his teeth began to enlarge. The image of the moonlight basking on his skin was the only thing offering him refuge.

If he had a choice, he would have chosen to stay inside with the warm you, stare enchantedly at your resting face like the many instants he’s done before. But his changes weren’t just physical. In this state he was bigger, louder, hairier, teethier – more aggressive. His desire for blood was intense but ever since he met you, so was this raw lust. As a rational man with a sense of morals, this perverse craving ashamed him, yet the beast inside did not care for his customs. It wanted to possess you, every ounce of you, thoroughly. To mate with you in a way that wasn’t meant for humans. Being around you in this condition would break the mental leash he chains this deviant with.

Although every time he alters, he feels it loosening. There was something wrong with him – his father and grandfather were able to restrain the beast from rampaging throughout town. But he, on the other hand, had been consuming the town as his sole hunting grounds for some months now. Which is why the “dog beast,” once a mere legend mentioned every decade, was printed in previous months paper.

It is as if the creature wishes to mock him and the slipping control.

Drenched in sweat and agony, he knew the transformation was almost complete when he suddenly heard a small noise. He immediately spun around and met the petrified eyes of his uncle.

Neither of the men spoke – both gaping at each other with pure, unfiltered fear. The chill of the night establishes its presence in the worst moment possible. Taehyung was afraid for reasons too many, none he could not lucidly list. He recalls what occurred the last time the beast was enraged by someone and he desperately wishes not to hurt anyone ever again in this form.

Opposite from him stood his uncle, wondering just one thought out of an infinite. How does a normal man, one untouched by the knowledge of this being, react in this situation?

A normal man would run. A normal man would cower in fear. A normal man would beg for his life. But he, the rightful heir to the manor, declined to let this young bastard trample him in such a way. It wasn’t that his uncle was a man without fear. And it wasn’t that he held great courage either, but rather, the very oxygen that burned through him was fueled purely by his stubbornness. He has spent the majority of his life trying to crush first his brother and now his nephew, so when this chance has presented itself so deliciously, he refuses to let it slip through his fingers.

“Y…” His voice was hoarse, throat achingly dry, “What are you?”

Taehyung stands there quietly, unresponsive to the question. Although he was the larger one, he felt so scared and so small. No one had ever spoken to him in this form which is why he was unsure of what to do. He had been a fool, he thought if he could sleep in your arms and you held him tight, he would be able to stop himself from altering tonight.

But now he understood, there was nothing that could.

“You killed those men.” His uncle continues, all on his own. As if he’s suddenly reached enlightenment.

“You do not…understand…” Taehyung shakes his head like a child about to be punished. He didn’t mean to kill anyone. He’s never hurt someone in his whole life. That night, on the previous full moon, it all occurred without any of his own authority.

Taehyung was a despicable man. Wan had hurt you, and he saw it. But rather than step in and intervene – rather than protect you from that scum – he instead just stood by and watched it transpire. No matter how many times he thinks back to it, no matter how often he racks his brain for an answer, he still does not understand why he did nothing. Perhaps he was paralyzed from his own traumas and forced himself to retain his composure – however the beast did not care for his pathetic reasons. It taunted him the whole week leading up to the full moon. Hurt him with insults he knew he merited.

“You’re weak.” It growled, “Weak and puny. I shall protect her myself.”

And then, for the very first time, Taehyung took the life of another human being without any cognizance. What’s worse is that he enjoyed it. That thought alone petrifies him.

“No, I do not understand you. And I do not wish to.”

“Please…” Taehyung begged as he held out his deformed hand to plead with the elder. Did this man think Taehyung desired this life? Did he think he desired this hundred year old curse - originating from a place long before his time - that was forced upon him and on any man who dared to reign over Kim manor. Perhaps despicable, but Taehyung was still softhearted. The reason why he tried so hard to keep his title as Lord was so that no one else would further suffer this abomination, even if it concerned his bastard uncle.

And it’s also the reason he made peace with dying alone, without a bride and without children. He was meant to stand alone. That is...until he met you.

“How dare you. How dare you grovel to me, you servant of the devil.” The disgust and venom in his uncle’s tone made him recoil.

“No-” It was only a matter of time before the beast consumed him whole and he was certain, like before, it would not spare any mercy. The adversity is something Taehyung direly yearns not to repeat.

“I shall bring the priest and the commissioner. I shall tell them what you did. You shall be brought to justice for what you did to those men. You shall suffer in hell when they burn you at the stake!”

“Please- uncle- please listen TO ME-” He clasped his claws against his mouth when his voice became utterly inhumane. The beast was crawling out of his throat and his sanity was slipping. No longer was he able to see what was in front of him and once again he began to fade, like he did all those times before.

“Run!”

Taehyung with the last of his conscious tried his hardest to warn the man and take a dash for the woods but it was far too late.

The last thing he heard was his uncle’s shrill scream, and then all silence for him.

You woke up to a thump.

Or at least you were certain that was what you heard as you sit up on the bed. Your vision was groggy, mind still half asleep as you look in the direction of the sound’s origin. For a minute it was soundless, and then there was another thump. You weren’t sure what it was, but you stood up nonetheless, slowly walking towards the door. Still unaware of your surroundings, you stop in front of the wood, distracted by your own dizziness.

In the tranquility of the room, you caught a noise so faint, you thought perhaps you were still in your nightmare from before. It was immensely faint, but you heard it. The rapid breathing behind the door. Unhurdled by emotions such as caution and reasoning for once, you swung the door open in confusion. And as soon as you did, your own awareness came back to you at full force.

A clothless man stood before you, covered from head to toe in blood and gore. Your breath was stuck in your throat, eyes widening into saucers once you saw the length of his fangs. It took you a full minute realize that it was Lord Kim.

“W…what…” You step back in horror. Perhaps you were still dreaming.

The fear had snuck up around your waist and grabbed you by the throat, leaving you without the ability to move. He gazed at you with eyes that were a bright yellow, yet darker than any man’s you have ever looked into. Your orbs travel down his body as you absorb in his abnormal height, his ripping muscles, his long fingernails and…and his hand.

There was a heart. In his hand, he gripped a fleshy and large organ and you knew it was a heart.

Missing hearts.

“Nooo…please.” You quiver, crying without him ever speaking a word. All signs of alarm were raised in your mind and you don’t even remember what it was for that you came here. Only Seulgi’s words about the dog beast reigned in your ear. The world was spinning as your Lord…as he began to walk towards you. Your life started to flash by your eyes, and you closed them shut tight, so you would no longer have to witness this terror.

“Shhh.” You heard a deep growl before you felt cold and abnormally large fingers on your face. A gasp escapes your throat as he caresses your cheek.

The next thing you knew, you were floating. Your eyes flew open and you saw yourself being carried by him. There was no moment for you to react, as you were subsequently placed upright onto the bed. No longer restrained by his arms, you shifted about in a frenzy.

“Ah…uh…”

“You are mine.” He states as if it was a fact.

Then he comes over you – wrapping his enormous, dirtied limbs around you as you squeak. He lays his head in your lap and you feel the tears leave your eyes as he yet again resembles your Lord. What you had thought of as just a hallucination from the fog was actually reality. That night, on the previous full moon, you woke up and strolled the grounds to clear your head of Wan. It was then that you saw the most horrid of things – you saw a giant dog shrink into a small human who resembled the Lord.

And you had told yourself lies. Told yourself it wasn’t true and told yourself to forget. But all logic was failing you now as a creature from hell winds down on your very own body. You muffle your cries and fear – too afraid to awaken the beast.

Taehyung laid peacefully in your arms; his mind detached from every other thing that did not concern you. The heart he held in his hand had stopped beating a long time ago, but he could still feel it slipping through his fingers. He is not sure, even as a beast, as to why he takes the hearts of victims. Perhaps it has something to do with how it’s his heart that hurts more than anything else each time he alters.

Well, it did not matter now, he thinks as his perception starts to drift. Nothing mattered at the moment – not the heart, nor his uncle’s body, not even your reaction. For this moment, more than anything, he just wants to rest.

To sleep, in your lap, under this cold, beautiful moonlight.

________

A/N: Okay so I really hate this I apologize. I had intended for it to be longer but well :) October has officially been 2020′s busiest month for me...but I hope you enjoy this garbage lmk what you thought!

#bts #kim taehyung #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #taehyung x reader

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closedspeciesteahouse · 2 years

Note

(I guess it wouldn't be too hard to find out who I am but I'll remain anonymous to try to keep what little anonymity I can get) I'm extremely dyslexic so I'm sorry if the formatting is weird! I had an experience recently that really opened my eyes up to how toxic the cs community is and I thought it was worth sharing. I'm a pop cs moderator and I typically thought I had a good standing with my members. I wasn't perfect, moderating is a hard job and a very opinionated job at that, I was going to mess stuff up. A bit ago I made a big purchase on an adopt, a good chunk of change. I'd never really spent this much before, but it was enough to where it made headlines in other cs vents. I knew I could spend this type of money, I had sold multiple pop cs designs off as vouchers to make it, so it wasn't like it was coming out of pocket. But of course when cs vent has something to complain about they'll latch onto it... Someone made a post where they went through my trello claiming that I was lazy because rather then finishing my commissions in my trello I was wasting their money on an expensive adopt. The moderator agreed, chalking it up to "cs behavior". I was mortified. I'd never been the target of this sort of thing and quickly went to the two commissioners who were waiting on me. I was worried one of them may have been upset and said that. The thing is, I had informed both of them before I went on hiatus that 2 family members were in the hospital, and 1 was dying. I was taking a break because doing customs was not helping my grieving process. Both of them were good friends and assured me that they understood and were being patient (one even went on the blog to defend me which I feel really bad about,,,) But it was all so weird. Nobody cared I had the money to spend on the purchase, nobody cared about my dying family members, nobody cared I was grieving. I was a pop cs mod, my feelings didn't matter to these people. As soon as I had gotten to position, no matter if it was for money or for passion, I became as bad as all the worst of my peers. This may be heard on deaf ears but I encourage you all to remember these mods, they are people... I know not all of them are great or outstanding at their jobs, but not all of them are horrible either. The absolute violation I felt to have someone digging through my stuff to find my trello (it is very out of the way) to find something, ANYTHING to complain about. It was horrifying. I can only imagine the mental state of the people who are targets of cs vent chats constantly such as Darci or Kid. Not to say I'm a fan of either of them, but if such a small thing affected me so badly, what are they going through. Maybe I'm just soft... Anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk,,,!

Hello mate, Mod Earl here.. I do have several things to add. Have a seat and a cult of tea if you’d like!

Firstly, I do apologize to hear of this. And in all honesty I would encourage you to do your best to void from looking at such sites if it causes you much stress and uneasiness.

The stuff that I’ve learned from within the internet is.. well, can’t please anybody. People can be crude and not empathetic. Even if you’re doing your darndest, there’s always going to be a few that got something to say! And to be a mod of this popular CS, I would say.. it’s to be expected. Adapt and overcome is what my Gramps would say! Got to get some tough skin, angry people from the internet should be the least of your problem to deal with. They just tend to find something to complain and gotta vent out their frustration (hence the vent in the name of ‘csvent’).

Also to go through the lengths to pick on something so small and enlarging it into an argument does feel a bit much… but again, if things are online and available for others to see, it’s there for others to drop a say in things.

Shame on the anonymous venter for running off to a gossip sight if they intend to instigate things.. the silliest of the twats.

Also it’s your money. You do you. I’m sure many others online do the same thing too. They have money, they spend it on what they want. (Wow! What a bloody shocking discovery!) Just do you mate. Learn from this mishap and simply do your best to filter out the nonsense.

But that’s just my say in things. Cheers mate, hope things lighten up!

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dottiechan · 3 years

Text

Tempest (Pt. 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Read on AO3

Pairing: Ava Du Mortain x f!Detective

Wordcount: 4048

Warnings: mourning, mentions of death and torture, smoking

Summary: The private detective must work through the sudden and unexpected disappearance of Ava - quite literally, as she embarks on solving her greatest mystery yet. But she is not the only one who's been busy...

A/N: This chapter is a rather long one as there's much to unpack at this point of the story, and there is much to explain. Sorry for the long wait, and thanks for being so patient and supportive of me!

The Private Detective’s Office, London, 1898

5 months after Ava’s disappearance

The key turns in the lock with ease. The door creaks as it gives way to the dark office. The lights flicker in the corridor outside, and the entrance gapes like a mouth ready to swallow her whole.

She steps inside, unaware of her fingers skittering across the glass pane that has the name of her detective agency painted on it. Some have great bloodlines to look back on, and nobles and kings to proudly call their ancestors. Her legacy is this stuffy little office, her sigil is a hand painted business logo. But her ancestor - her father - was a warrior too, noble of heart, even if not of blood.

She hangs her coat and hat, and proceeds to smooth down her hair before locking the door and switching on the lights. The old pieces of furniture that would have been regarded fashionable 20 years ago are dimly illuminated, and the sight of them makes her heart ache. They belonged to her late father, and in a way he lives on through them. The dent in the cushion of his chair where he always used to sit, the scuff marks on his desk he carelessly carved into the polished surface with books and folders, the medical and law tomes he hoarded lining the bookshelves that hug the dark green walls... As a child, she was afraid of coming here in the evenings - something they often did after her mother passed away and her father tried his best to raise her alone. The heavy nailhead leather armchairs looked like hunched monsters in the dark, the looming mahogany desk with its long curving legs resembled a giant spider, and the serious wallpaper enveloped this macabre scene like some sinister forest. “The real monsters are in here, my darling,” her father would ruffle her hair affectionately, pointing at the files he came to pick up.

It is late, but the office no longer feels scary. Her rational mind knows she should have gone home to her empty bed and her unread books and the cold supper awaiting her. And yet she’s here because hardly anything matters anymore. Because no place ever really feels like home ever since her father left. Well, her small house felt like home for a while when she was still here. But she left as well, and with her she took the last tattered shreds of joy the detective had somehow managed to cling to. She is submerged in saturnine reticence now, and ironically it helps her stay focused, even though it makes her more and more like the person she tried to thaw out. More and more like Ava.

One should only embrace the iciness of a statue if they’re willing to risk turning into marble themselves.

The Commissioner would be lucky to have a detective such as myself, she thinks bitterly as she glances down at the neatly kept files piled on her desk. Most are petty cases, even she has to admit - cheating husbands, unanswered invitations and letters, and the likes. But she takes all the work she can, and she prides herself on her ability to solve them with the proficiency of a man. Ava used to praise her for that. Now she whispers praises to herself even if the words turn sour in her mouth, because she will not let anyone ruin her. She will not. (Even though Ava has, because the world feels different without her in it.)

Her sudden disappearance left her on the precipice of panic at first. Ava, along with her partner Nate, simply vanished into thin air as if they never even existed at all, as if they were a pleasant reverie she used to lull herself to sleep at night. No trace, no item that belonged to them was left behind. If not for the spare key to her house being gone - the one she gave to Ava - she wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between reality and her mad suspicions. But oh, she was here. She was. Missing her is a malady burrowed in her heart, but it is also the testament of her existence.

She opens the file on top, and hums in bitter satisfaction. Right. The aching of her heart isn’t the only testament anymore. It took her months, but she’s finally one step closer to the solution, planting her foot firmly and holding her crumbling sanity together with a determination she didn’t know she had. Ava was probably never meant to be in the background of a photograph taken during the opening night of the National Gallery of British Art.

But she was. And it really only takes one mistake.

The private detective picks up the photograph gingerly, giving herself one second to lose herself in the whirlwind of emotions Ava’s angular silhouette awakens in her.

One step closer.

She leans back in her chair, her gaze gliding over the photograph and landing on her personal little project. The blackboard is filled with dates, locations and places with a map pinned to the middle of it - by now, it is practically a blueprint of Ava’s and Nate’s every activity over the past two years. The deeper she digs, the more unknowns she unearths about the people she once thought she knew.

But there’s still time to get to know them - first impressions are overrated anyway.

Train station, Wayhaven, 1899

7 months after Ava’s disappearance

January quickly set to work and changed the countryside. It swooped down from the heavens and gently buried the forests and the hills under a heavy blanket of snow, concealing the detective’s childhood home from her as she exits the train, the handle of her heavy bag already digging into her gloved fingers. The shapes are still visible though underneath all the snow and ice - she sees the old station with the crumbling roof, the road leading into town, the bell tower of the small church peeking out just above the treeline. She recognises them all, though she sorely wishes she didn’t.

Because with the recognition comes the inevitable sting of her memories. Faces emerge in her conscious she hasn’t seen in years. The kindness of her mother’s eyes and the curve of his father’s lips, both lost forever now, never to be seen again, cutting deeper than a knife ever could.

An old woman is prating about her insufferable nephew, a business man is constantly checking his pocket watch with a disdainful look from across the station, three young women gossip, a man is rubbing his hands together in an effort to stimulate his circulation in the cold weather. The detective tunes out the comfortable commotion of the small town station, imagining she is still in London and not here. Anywhere but here. People brush past her, the train whistles and whirs to motion, and before she knows it, she is alone, paralysed in one spot, snowflakes catching softly on her fetching ensemble of a royal blue travelling dress and matching hat.

She takes a shaky breath, almost already on the verge of tears.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

No.

“Of course,” she turns with a slight smile. “Just admiring the view. I used to live here.”

“Ah, then the gossip about you was true,” the man nods, his eyes glinting intelligently under his bushy brows. There’s an apologetic smile sitting on his lips, and a twinge of regret spoiling the beauty of his otherwise handsome square jaw and bold features. “I apologise, I couldn’t help but overhear some women on the train talking about your father. About you.”

“I didn’t know our name carried such weight,” the detective admits cautiously, one hand reaching up to fix her hat self-consciously. The man seems to notice the way her fingers linger over the hat pin, and he almost cracks a grin. It would be a highly inappropriate moment to joke, and besides, he’d rather befriend this interesting person than anger her to a point where he’d end up being skewered by the hat pin in question. After all, her friendship and assistance is why he’s here.

“Your father served in India with Sir Edward Bardford, the current Police Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police,” he adds gently. “You were betrothed to Montagu Edward Bradford.”

“How do you know about that?” the woman asks, her eyes widened by shock as she takes a step closer to him.

“Who didn’t Montagu tell?”

The strained grin the stranger allows himself seems to put her momentarily at ease. Montagu did tell everyone, God rest his soul. In a way, she could never really begrudge him for the betrothal - it was their fathers’ scheming, even if Montagu really didn’t seem to mind. She always wanted a way out, but she never wished for his death. He was in India when it had happened, and she was in London. In a way, even 9 years after, it feels surreal. She never saw the body. For years afterwards, she sincerely thought he would turn up one day unexpectedly as if nothing had happened.

He never did.

“How awfully rude of me to not even introduce myself!” he exclaims suddenly, sheepishly sticking out his hand. “Dr Van Helsing. Abraham Van Helsing.”

“I believe Mont had spoken about you,” she nods as she shakes his hand, deliberately squeezing his fingers with more force than a mere handshake would warrant. Yet another trick she learned from Ava.

“I hope so. We were... we were quite close. I know it’s been a while since he...” Van Helsing pauses as he withdraws his hand and waves it in the air before drawing it up to his ginger curls. “Please accept deepest my condolences.”

“Thank you, Dr Van Helsing.”

Her tone signals the end of the conversation, and she nods her head stiffly before turning. She knew coming back here would unearth the loss of her parents, but she is not ready to speak of Montagu yet. She bared her soul once regarding the matter, and only to one person, but she will not repeat the experience again. As liberating as it had been to tell Ava everything, she wishes to leave this heartache and guilt where it belongs - in the past.

“Please wait. We got off on the wrong foot! I didn’t come here to ask you personal questions - in fact, it is a disappearance that I was hoping to discuss with you.”

“You are a physician, not an inspector, correct?” she asks over her shoulder, not bothering to slow down her steps as she strides towards an unclaimed hansom.

“Yes, but-”

“Are you here to hire me?”

“No-”

“Then we have nothing to talk about, Dr Van Helsing. Good day.”

The driver, smelling a wealthy client who’s just arrived from London, clambers down from his seat quickly to open the door for her to get in. Just before she could disappear inside, the physician speaks again.

“I’m trying to find Miss Ava Du Mortain and Mr Nathaniel Sewell. I was hoping we could help each other out, but more importantly, I was hoping to warn you.”

“Warn me?” the detective pauses, looking back at Van Helsing with genuine shock on her prepossessing features.

“They’re not who you think they are - what you think they are.”

There’s a stretch of silence between them as her eyes assess the tall, lanky man as he stands just before the hansom, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his breath fogging in the chill air as he looks back at her expectantly. The nerve on this man alone is making the private detective want to leave him high and dry in the snow, but her insides twist and her pulse quickens at the mention of Ava’s name. She’s all but given up hope - for months now, she could find nothing regarding the woman and her partner, or the Agency they claimed to work for. She knows virtually nothing about this man, but her need to find Ava outweighs her better judgement.

“Are you hungry, Dr Van Helsing?” she asks, scooting further down the seat to make room for the man.

“Is eating and working on disappearance cases simultaneously a habit of yours, Miss?” the physician asks as he climbs in next to her.

“And here I was trying to be nice. I suppose I will not offer to pay for your lunch then.”

“I take it all back! I am positively famished.”

Meanwhile, across the train station

Lucille Licht twirls her cane, lips pressed into a disdainful frown. Cities at least have crowds upon crowds of people to distract her, but small towns such as Wayhaven hold no entertainment value whatsoever. She isn’t here on pleasant business anyway, she thinks to herself as she sighs, pulling her fur coat tighter around the expensive suit she’s wearing. No, she is here on ghastly business indeed, even by demon standards. But the prophecy was clear - though irritatingly vague too, no doubt to account for the rather large margin of error witches have these days in their prophecies. They’re more lawyers than soothsayers by now, their profession diluted by those who hunger for nothing but profit and security, and who are willing to sacrifice quality for those two aforementioned gains. Lucille finds sordid business such as this distasteful, even in her line of work. Falling from grace is one thing, but living in the Agency’s ever growing shadow is no excuse not to have honour among thieves. Or rogues. Or both, when it comes to the social circles she frequents.

A small voice in the back of her head whispers sadly, poisoning the faux assuredness she’s lulled herself into on the train. She’s just like I was, in a strange way. Before it all happened. And now I’m about to do the same horrible things to her that were done to me.

But the private detective is the one she’s been waiting for. She has to be. It all fits - the dead father, the career, the place where she was born. Lucille can’t smell anything strange about her blood yet, but she is sure she can bring about the power that was promised to reside in her veins. She has her ways, and her old magic, and her knife. And most importantly, her determination.

It was centuries ago, when she was stripped and bound and the curse was carved into her flesh. Strange, how vividly one can remember a single terrible moment, even centuries later. Even though the ancient magic rendered her undead, she can still feel the searing pain all over her body, red lines raging like fire in the form of symbols and Echolian text. It made her immortal, but it also bound her to her creator. He is the reason why she’s on the hunt. Why she is desperate to gain power beyond what she could achieve alone. Even as a human, as a meagre farmer’s child, she was roaming the fields of her father as she pleased. She was free. It was so long ago that she can’t even remember the name her parents gave her, but her freedom she remembers.

And nobody enslaves Lucille Licht and gets away with it.

Her slow burn vendetta must be coming to an end soon. There’s only so much of the supernatural underworld she can bring under her control - what she has will have to suffice. She already runs a widespread rogue organisation, with its key leadership positions held by her loyal Daughters, as she eloquently calls the women she’s bound to her service over the centuries the same way she was bound once. A necessary evil. Pawns in the game she plays with the Ancient One. There is nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure her victory in the coming battle. I will not be outwitted again by that Echolian bastard, she thinks, whacking away at a nearby bush with her cane. Specks of snow and ice glitter where her hits land. And yet she always finds herself hesitating before turning another human.

The abhorred feeling of helplessness always comes creeping back. As well as the pain, and the panic of thinking your life is about to end. She has to push it all down. Grit her teeth and get it over with. Months of preparation leading up to the final act that barely lasts ten minutes. And then you wait, and 3 days later their pain and mortality will be but a distant memory.

But she’s slipping. She no longer only hesitates before, now the intrusive self-doubt catches up to her after the rituals too. The Ancient One is still the centre of her nightmares, but the dream has changed. She is no longer the helpless little lamb brought to the slaughter. She is one with the Ancient One, his hand is hers too as it raises the knife, their voices merging together as they chant the same curse together.

She knew this victory would cost her everything. But she never imagined the real price to pay would be stepping up to fill the void the Ancient One’s death will create.

Lucille never wanted to be like him. She only ever wanted to kill him. But it seems those two things are one and the same.

She awakens from her thoughts when the man joins the private detective in the hansom. An annoying little man, that Dr Van Helsing is, though harmless in the grand scheme of things. It doesn’t matter that he’s taken care of a Transylvanian rogue vampire with his entourage, it would take far more to stop her plans now. Lucille focuses on the woman instead, letting her will force itself into her mind. All too easy, she raises her eyebrows in an unimpressed fashion as she flicks through her thoughts as if she were reading the latest issue of The Times. She thought she would be more difficult to read. To control. But alas, she is just like everyone else, aside from the love that seems to seep out of her every thought for none other than Agent Du Mortain.

She grins, remembering her failed attempt at getting to the private detective earlier. She’s learned several invaluable lessons in those two years. One, you can’t trust dark elf mercenaries, no matter how much you pay them. Two, it’s better to divert the attention of the Agency first before you try to kidnap someone who has important connections in the London Metropolitan Police. Three, love makes people do really, really stupid things.

Thankfully, Lucille Licht is a smart woman, and an even better strategist - not to mention a quite powerful demon with telepathic abilities and her boot firmly planted on the supernatural underground’s neck - and this time, she has learned from all three of her mistakes. This time, there will be no Agent Du Mortain rushing to the rescue. (But that doesn’t mean she can’t use her name as bait, yes?)

Cemetery, Wayhaven, 1900

1 year and 8 months after Ava’s disappearance

He doesn’t appreciate being jerked around the way he has been lately, but he isn’t a man to grumble too much either. He was closest to the backwater little town, he gets to check out the possible supernatural case. Everyone draws the short straw sometimes, and he’s learned to cope with it. He has certainly lived long enough to do so.

The wind shifts, and suddenly Agent Fuller’s nostrils are invaded by the stench of magic. Things finally start looking up for him, and that thought alone is enough to make him pick up his pace, excitement coursing through his body. He lights a cigarette to conceal the smirk threatening to overtake his lips when he sees the pallid looks of the constables as they pass him by. One stops him to ask what his business is out here, but the Agency has already notified the meagre Wayhaven police force, and he is soon on his way again to the centre of the commotion. Cemetery of the commotion would be a more accurate description though - the little town was as dead in the mid-February frost as a place could get, and aside from the bored stationmaster who gave him directions, these men are the first living beings he’s encountered since his arrival.

“Name’s Agent Fuller. What can you tell me about the crime scene, constable?” Fuller asks as he exhales a lungful of smoke, turning to the least disturbed looking man surveying the scene.

“Welcome to the middle of nowhere, sir. Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

A handshake and a suppressed grin later Fuller follows the young man down a row of tombs. They take a sharp turn to the left, and immediately it is clear why he was called here. The sight is confirmation enough, but the smell of potent and ancient magic is the real giveaway.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a walker,” Fuller snorts as he crouches down, picking up a piece of the crumbled marble.

“The poor woman was buried only 3 days ago,” the constable mutters, rubbing his hands together before bringing them to his lips and blowing hot air onto them, desperately attempting to revitalise his frozen fingers. “Who could do such a monstrous thing?”

“Indeed, who could...” the agent mutters, too focused to really pay attention to the human on his right. The tomb was torn open, the coffin deserted, the body missing. It coincides with many reports made over the centuries - it’s unfortunately not rare for the dead to be taken and repurposed again for magic, but this particular pattern is characteristic of demonic rogues having too much time on their necromantic little hands. He will need to consult a few colleagues to confirm it, but the 3 days and the apparent magic hanging in the air is all the evidence he needs right now.

He stands, the lapels of his dark coat flapping in the chilly wind ominously. There’s a page typed up about the busy life of his missing body in his pocket, crumpled around the edges from being handled carelessly, but he takes it out to skim over it again. That’s when he spots the little detail about the private detective’s history with the Agency that he seemed to have missed the first time around.

‘1896-1898: under Agency protection

Threat: classified

Agents on the case: A. Du Mortain, N. Sewell’

The Agency gossips like there’s no tomorrow, and ever since Lady Ashbury’s return to the main facility, the gossip about the ‘Ice Queen’ and her pet detective have been the most fashionable thing to blabber on about. And since Fuller has been to the scene, it will be him who will have to provide all the answers when Du Mortain comes with her demanding questions, no doubt breaking down doors in the process as it is in her nature. Fuller is by no means a man who shies away from conflict or hard work, but he’s never been particularly good with emotions. Explaining to a lovesick elder vampire that her alleged lover is now very dead, and also quite probably the plaything of a very bored and elusive demon who likes to play with necromancy is not a task he would gladly carry out.

“Well, shit.”

Fuller shoves the page back into his pocket and sighs. He should retire and buy a house in the wilderness. Get a cat. Maybe try some cocaine - he once saw Heinrich Quincke use it for spinal anaesthesia before one of his surgeries, and have been meaning to try it out ever since. But he does none of those things - he never does.

He walks back the way he came, trying to prepare himself for the most awkward conversation of the century.

Needless to say, he couldn’t prepare himself for what was to come. But for once, he couldn’t feel mad about a messy situations. He just felt a little more hollow afterwards. And then he got another case as this one was closed and the woman was declared dead once more. And he moved on.

But, like with all his cases ending in death, he never forgot.

#dottiechan writes #ava du mortain x detective #a du mortain x detective #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc detective #ava du mortain #a du mortain #a lot to unpack here #i know a lot might still appear strange but i promise it will all make sense soon haha

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dramarising-replacement · 4 years

Text

i have a pwyw lore shop and legit ive been sitting on this lore commission for 2 months now bc SCHOOL. but ive still been semi-active on fr bc its my hyperfixation. the commissioner is actually paying An Amount (not a lot, but its nice of them to) and they don't seem too bothered by my inability to function but I still feel so bad... school please get off my back so i can finish their funky story~. anyway. to the person who commissioned me: i know you're waiting, i am too. i hope whatever i do end up writing is something you enjoy and you're also getting a full refund <3 thank you for being patient

#Praise #Rant #Flight Rising #Lore #Confessions #submission

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debu-neko-kun · 4 years

Text

Brand New Moo

A brand new story, idea courtesy of the ever-excellent commissioner (https://www.deviantart.com/doom7951) I really really liked working on this for ideas that may be obvious! Stay tuned for more flubby boys soon-ish! Contains: male weight gain, ssbhm, male lactation, human to boy-cow, cute fat gay stuff

James slumped down in the seat. It felt so wrong to be waiting here, he thought, thinking about what his boss would say if he saw him sitting here… he tapped his foot on the floor, hoping that would make him feel busy, but it just earned him a dirty look from the receptionist, so he opted to just slump deeper into his chair.

“James Rode?”

He sat up, smoothing out his button-up shirt. “Yes?”

“The doctor is available to see you now. Please enter the door to the left.”

James entered the office, expecting to see a sterile hospital room with gurneys and little jars of tongue depressors… Instead, he found himself in a carpeted room, the walls all wood paneling and decorated with diplomas and woodsy paraphernalia like bundles of herbs and wooden carvings.

Perhaps he knew less about this therapy stuff than he thought.

“Hello, Mr. Rode. I’m pleased to see you’ve made it; have a seat, if you’d like.”

James hesitated by the door. ‘I would *like* to go home…’ he mumbled, but stepped his way to the wide couch situated in front of the desk. He gently lowered himself into it, feeling more than a little small with his slender frame surrounded by so much empty seat.

“A little introduction, if I may.” the therapist smiled, tapping the plaque on his desk. “Dr. Maxwell Sweet. I used to own Sweet Farm Dairy, if you can believe it.”

“Never heard of it.” James spoke.

“Ah, well, can’t impress every time.” he chuckled, continuing on about his schooling, but James was already zoning out, sizing him up in his head. Dr. Sweet was slim, pale, well-dressed… probably didn’t spend too much time outside anymore, if the dairy story was to be believed. He wore glasses, making him seem bookish, and the clean-shaven face and well-kempt part in his smoothly combed brown hair made him seem concerned with appearances… not much to go on yet, but James felt like he’d make a respectable adversary in the boardroom regardless.

“…but I felt genetics wasn’t as fulfilling by itself. Are you okay, Mr. Rode?”

“Hmm?” James snapped out of his focused expression, taking a moment to rub his sharp blue eyes. “Sorry, a little tired. Late meeting yesterday…”

“Do you have a lot of late meetings, Mr. Rode?”

“James,” he corrected, “But yeah, I suppose I do. It’s the only way to stay ahead out there, you know?”

“I understand.” Dr. Sweet smiled, scribbling something on a pad on his desk. “Would you say this is the main source of your stress? The pressure to succeed, that is.”

“I, uh-” James stammered. “Are we starting already? I thought you would say when we were starting.”

“Just building a picture, that’s all. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to let you know when we get into the real stuff, if you’d like.”

“Okay, well… thanks.” James wilted a little. He wasn’t used to this, showing his cards so openly…

“Stress is the main reason you’re here, correct?”

“Yes… I mean, well, I’m here because of my boyfriend… I didn’t notice anything, but my boyfriend Kriss says I’ve been acting stressed.”

“Stressed in what way?”

“Distant… angry, sad, stuff like that. He says I haven’t been eating either, but I mean, when do I have the time? There’s just a lot to do, and nobody gets that. Nobody understands how hard it is to keep doing the same damn thing day after day, never getting a moment to just stop and relax. It’s not my fault I have to stay a few hours over every day, it’s not my fault I miss the train, it’s not my fault I have to stay with this job or else-”

James stopped, noticing the psychologist watching him intently, a furrowed-brow intensity in his expression.

“Sorry.” James sighed, folding his arms over his ribs, his gaze drifting back to the dried lavender on the wall. “Yeah. Just stressed.”

“I see,” Dr. Sweet said, underlining something on the pad with a quick scratch. “Well, I’m very glad you came to see us, James. I think this treatment will be very helpful in getting you into a better state of mind.”

“Yeah… that’s what Kriss said, too. What is this treatment, anyway? Are you just going to ask me about my past and… give advice, or something?”

“Oh, nothing like that, no. You see, I specialize in a sort of blended treatment. It’s quite ahead of its field, really. Good for people with a lot of stress and little time on their hands.”

Dr. Sweet drew a pile of papers out of his desk, dozens of forms and documents all neatly compiled into a novella of legalese. He set it gently on the desk, in front of James, and extended a pen out for him.

“…Provided you’re willing to participate, that is.”

James took the pen and the papers, sitting back to read over the front page. It was mostly filled out with his insurance information and medical history, employment information from his company, current address… everything except his name. He flipped it over, just finding more information about liability and “understanding patient responsibilities.” Just thinking about pouring over fifty sheets of legal information outside of the office, and for free, made him flip back to the front.

“Alright… well, whatever gets me out of here faster, I guess.” he murmured, scribbling his name at the bottom of the paper.

“Excellent! If you don’t mind, I’d like to get started immediately.”

Dr. Sweet’s drawer slid open, and out he pulled a small bottle of milky white fluid and a syringe.

“W-What is that for?” James asked, shocked at the sudden development. The therapy scenes in movies certainly hadn’t mentioned needles.

“Just something to help you become a little more pliable. We need you like putty for the hypnotherapy to take hold; don’t worry, it only lasts for a few minutes, and it’ll keep you relaxed for the rest of the day. That’s not so bad, is it? I promise you won’t have to keep up with any medication from here on out.”

Despite the cold sweat forming on his brow, James rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm. Dr. Sweet drew some of the liquid from the bottle with a casual precision, stood up, and slowly approached the nervous patient.

“Hold still, and…” James felt a small pinch, followed by the dull ache of the injection. “That’s it. You’ve done wonderfully already, James.”

“Hmm… thank you, I guess.” he grumbled, letting out a heavy sigh.

“The medication should activate momentarily. While we wait, why don’t we pass the time with a bit of word association?”

The room around them was already starting to feel a bit… warmer. Familiar, even. He adjusted his collar a bit, leaning back against the couch.

“Do you know how this works, James?”

“I just say the first thing that comes to my head?” he asked, stifling a yawn with his palm.

“Correct. Alright now… your first word is “barn.””

“Tractor.”

“Good.” Sweet smiled. “Your second word is ‘pasture.’”

“Uh… grass. No, hay.” He muttered hazily. He felt like laying himself down on a soft patch of land, sunlight warming his pale flesh,,,

“Very good, James. Don’t think too hard about them. Now, your third word… ‘milk’.”

“Moo…” he spoke dreamily, still thinking about the sunlight and the field. A bubble of lucidity popped to the surface suddenly, bringing a blush to his face. “N-No, I, uh, I mean cow. Cow, that’s it.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Sweet continued, scribbling more notes on his pad. “And when you think of cows, what are some words you think of?”

“Big… u-uh, soft? I don’t really know…”

“That’s fine, James. Imagine a cow standing in a field… what do you think it’s thinking about?”

A warm, electric tingle trickled down from the top of his head, flowing into his spine and down his back. He tried to focus on the words… what does a cow really think about?

“Uhm… eating? How nice the sun is on its back?…”

“And how do you think it feels when it’s warm and fed? Do you think that would make a cow happy, James?”

The tingle turned into an odd, pulsing sensation, coming from somewhere in his core… or maybe deeper than that. A warmth in his cells.

“Y-Yeah… doctor, this feels… weird…”

“The medication can be a little strong, especially the first time. But just focus on my words… would that make you happy, James? Softness, warmth, food… nothing to think about but being tended to? I like to think so.”

“Hmf… y-yeah, that’d be nice…”

Soft… warm… hungry…

“Good,” Sweet began, suddenly dropping his pen. James jolted upright, forced free from his mental drift as quickly as the pen hit the desk. “That’ll conclude our session. Remember what we’ve talked about today; it’s always good to stay in touch with that simple, wholesome part of yourself. Try and slow down a little, and indulge it; I think you’ll be feeling a lot better if you do. See you again in a week?”

“Y-Yeah… yes, that’d be fine.”

“I look forward to it. Be well, James.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was just beginning to set by the time James arrived home. Warm wafts of sweet and savory air swept around him as he shuffled through the threshold, inviting him straight through the living room and into the kitchen. There, a tall, clean-shaven man with swept back blonde hair stood, whistling to himself. The creak of the floor alerted him to James’s entrance, the apron-clad gentlemen turning to greet him.

“Oh, hey! I thought for sure you’d be running a little late, I’m not totally done with dinner yet. How did your appointment go?”

“Mm, that smells wonderful…” James murmured, slumping into one of the dining chairs. “God, I’m starving….”

“Here,” Kriss, his boyfriend of two years, spoke, setting a dish of buttered buns in front of him. “But don’t fill up before you get to the ham. I worked really hard on it as a nice reward for you finally going to that clinic. Speaking of…”

Kriss sat down in front of him as he stuffed a bun into his mouth, propping his face up on his hand. “You didn’t say how it went.”

“The appointment? Right, sorry… it was okay. Good, actually. It was good. It was kind of weird, and I didn’t think I’d need a shot for psychotherapy, but… it was nice. I feel all calm and… gooey? I can’t really explain it… really hungry, too. Mostly hungry, actually.”

James reached for another bun, nibbling on it gently.

“Well, I guess it’s working already. I haven’t seen you eat like that in… well, ever. It’s nice, honestly.”

The oven alarm beeped as James polished off a third bun, absentmindedly chewing while Kriss got up to retrieve the ham.

Soft… warm… hungry… the words bounced around his brainstem, burying themselves somewhere in the middle of sub and thoughtful consciousness. He remembered saying them, but the meaning was mostly detached… regardless, they just sounded so right.

His ruminations were interrupted by a loaded plate being placed in front of him, also interrupting his roll supply. He breathed in the delicious scents of brown sugar in the ham, cinnamon in sweet potatoes. It was like nothing he’d ever smelled before; it was comfort, it was calm. It was… “Mmf, Kriss, this is incredible. Is this a new recipe? I could eat this forever!” he lit up, happily nibbling on the ham slice with gusto.

“Oh, uh… we had it last week, actually. Whatever they gave you sure made you hungry, huh?” he chuckled, looking a little confused, but relieved at the new development. After all, it was healthier than watching him starve himself on coffee and the occasional stick of gum. In only a few moments, James had the entire plate polished off, and returned to munching on bread rolls. “Want some more? I made extra in case you wanted to take some to work, but-” “There’s more?”

Kriss hadn’t seen him this happy since he’d said yes to their first date.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“A-Ah, Kriss-!”

“Shh, we’re almost there.” Kriss cooed, shouldering the bedroom door open, his boyfriend carried bridal-style in his arms. Normally, this would be like carrying a bag of flour, but after his uncharacteristic gorging, James felt more like a sack of potatoes. Or, perhaps, one large sack filled with one very large, round, painfully full potato in the center.

“I’ve never eaten so much in my life…” James whispered as he laid out on the bed. He immediately curled onto his side, holding his stomach in his hands. “I can tell… are you sure you’re okay, babe? You can tell me anything, you know.” “I-I’m fine, honestly… just ate too much.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” A familiar silence crept out of the dark now, cutting into the dim room between them. Finally, James spoke, “Kriss, I just- well, I’m not good at this, I haven’t… been there, like I should have. We’ve been together for a long time now and I still haven’t really… opened up.” Kriss sat down on the bed next to him, looking at the sheets next to James. James reached out, grabbing Kriss by the hand. “I’m sorry. Really. I’ve been too into my job and I want to spend more time with moo-”

He hiccupped, covering his mouth in sudden embarrassment. “You! God, I’ve had cows on the brain lately…”

“You certainly eat like one.” Kriss smiled gently, poking his stomach. “H-Heh… so, uhm,” James said, “Will you give me another chance? To show you the real me… not the work me. Actually me?” Kriss leaned over, brushing the tousled hair out of James’s face. “Of course, sweetpea. You know I’ll give you all the time you need to get back in your own head again. And while you’re still trying…”

Kriss cupped his cheek, and leaned in to plant a little kiss on his soft lips. “Maybe I can do something to keep you motivated.”

“C-Careful, my belly’s still sensitive…!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kriss woke before James-- given his “work early, work late” schedule, this was an uncommon occurrence, but not an unwelcome one. He liked the way James looked peacefully slumbering; it reminded him that he could still stop and relax, that at least he wasn’t hard-wired to run until he dropped. That the hamster wheel didn’t spin forever. He snuggled up closer to his slumbering partner’s back, looping his arm around his side in a gentle embrace. Kriss’s fingers brushed his chest, expecting to feel cool, taut flesh on ribs… instead, his hand touched soft, plush breast.

“H-Huh?” he muttered, startled, his hand recoiling instantly. He knew James, and had never known him to be any more than twiggy at best. Panic rising, he threw off the sheets and flipped on the bedside lamp, exposing the tubby imposter. There, on the bed, was James-- or, at least, he thought it was… same messy black hair, same little blotchy brown birthmark on his shoulder, same pink underwear. This James would have been a perfect replica, if it weren’t for one big thing:

This James was fat.

Well, fat was pushing it, but he definitely had a lot more of it than when he went to bed. His back, once a bony map of shoulder blades and ribs, was now a padded mat of pale pudge, the vaguest hint of love handles forming at his sides. Butt fat pulled his briefs tight, the waistband receding back to squish the tops of his cheeks into two blubbery cupcake tops. His thighs, once slender and toned from his constant jogging around the office building, smooshed together like gently dimpled bags of thick jelly.

“Mmmn?...” he stirred, sitting up. His round face squinted against the harsh light, and he raised a chubby hand to shield himself from it. Kriss’s green eyes darted up to his rounded arm, down to his puffy chest, back up to his cutely dimpled chin, back down to the subtle dome of his belly.

“Kriss?... Oh no, did I oversleep?”

The words clogged in Kriss’s head; what could he say? James was nervous, prone to panic at the slightest change… “You’re… you-” he choked quietly, staring in disbelief. James, following his line of sight to his belly, let out a little yelp of surprise.

“W-What happened to me? I-I didn’t eat that much, did I?...” he stammered, poking the peachy flesh of his abdomen gingerly.

“Impossible…” Kriss whispered, stepping back towards his boyfriend. “Maybe it’s just… water weight? Temporary swelling? Are you allergic to anything?”

Pressing the gentle swell of his arm, it was impossible to think this could just be temporary. “I don’t think so…”

“Well, in any case, I think we should call a doctor.” Kriss said, stepping over to the dresser. “If I can find my phone…”

“Just… use mine.” It took a moment to tear his eyes away from his freshly-plush body long enough to reach for his cell, thumb tapping the home screen. The time-- 5:55 am-- appeared on the screen.

“Oh! No no no, I’m going to be late!”

“James, the doctor-”

“I’ll go after work! I need to get ready; how did I forget the early meeting? I never forget!”

James scrambled to his feet, butt bouncing in his underwear as he bounded into the bathroom, the door shutting quickly behind him. “Kriss, can you find a white shirt for me, please? And my good watch!”

“If they still fit…” Kriss mumbled with a sigh, shuffling to find his clothes. So much for the fast-track relaxation therapy.

‘Give it time,’ he thought, ‘Nobody changes overnight.’

But as he pulled out the obviously too-small button-up from the closet, he suddenly began to doubt these words.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

James rushed into the office, speed-walking his way through the lobby to the elevator. He barely managed to squeeze by in time for the doors to shut, his belly bumping against the metal as he slipped in.

“Ouch…” he murmured, regarding his sensitive new softness with a little rub. It was only with this did he notice how stressed the buttons were on the shirt, or how a thin sliver of belly fat was drooping out of the bottom. He quickly pulled his pants higher to disguise it, tucking in the shirt like he wasn’t covering for a freak medical condition. Not like it helped much… the fabric was still ungodly tight against his chest, outlining his newly-blossomed moobs like half-filled water balloons in cloth, and similarly highlighted the uncharacteristically pudgy belly beneath. At least his pants had always been a little big for him… they, at least, did a little better at preserving his modesty.

He waited impatiently for the ding, and squeezed through the doors before they’d fully opened, managing to narrowly avoid two coworkers on his way to the meeting room. They said something he didn’t quite hear, but he heard the word “wide”, which was enough to make him flush gently. No time for that, he thought, walking as fast as he could muster with what felt like fifty extra pounds bouncing on his frame. Sweating lightly, he finally arrived at the meeting room, slipping in just before the last coworker. They scoffed at his speedy entrance, but upon seeing his unusually rounded face, decided that it wasn’t worth starting a fight over-- he was clearly suffering enough if he looked like *that* after just one day.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen…” James’s boss began, addressing the crowd. And so it was, James thought, letting the voices around him whisper out into the back of his mind. He’d wait until his name was called, he’d give his report, and then he’d be back to hammering out the numbers until home time. The daily routine… though, there was nothing ‘routine’ about today, as the chair was quick to remind him. Where he used to sit at the edge of the seat, he now filled it out plentifully; so much so that the chair arms touched his sides if he fidgeted an inch or so in either direction. It was an alien feeling, being so plump- he couldn’t even bring himself to say it, but the words hung there in his mind.

Round. Chubby. Soft. Thick. *Fat.*

He grabbed his thigh amidst his anxious ruminating, fingers squishing pliable blubber beneath the trouser fabric. The sensation sent warm, pleasing tingles across his flesh, rumbling deep into his core. It felt… nice?

He scanned the room, making sure nobody could read the feelings passing through his mind and body, but everyone else seemed to be knee-deep in their own happy places too; zoning out to cope was half of the job, after all. A sudden, deep gurgle bubbled in his belly, his hand shooting up to grab at his belly. Where his thigh had been plush, his belly was absolutely pillowy… the silky smooth glob of fat oozed around his fingers where he pressed, sending out another wave of delight across his body. As if to respond to his pressing, another gurgle rumbled against his palm, and he could feel his stomach rising like slow baked dough with his breaths. In, out… warm, soft. He couldn’t help but smile, sucked into the world of squishy comfort. Even as his belly rose in the *out* breath. Even as the chair began to press into his sides ever so softly. Even as the buttons stressed and strained, struggling to keep up with his widening form until-

*PING* The first button on his shirt reflected off a steel mug, snapping everybody out of their stupor with a jolt.

“What was that?” the boss asked. Everybody looked around, but thankfully James’s airy belly was covered by the desk.

“Hmm… well, in any case, that’s the long and short of it.” the boss shrugged, shuffling some papers in his hands. “James, you’re up.”

James looked up, half-lidded in a relaxed daze. “Huh?...”

“Your numbers. You *do* have your report, don’t you?”

Like an apple in a cauldron of caramel, the thought of the report slowly bobbed back to the top of his focus.

“O-Oh, right, yes sir, I uh…”

He reached for his briefcase, grasping at air beneath the desk.

“Is everything alright, James?”

Everybody in the room shuffled, slumped, retreated back to the comfort of the sounds and sights of desert islands and snowy cabins. Meanwhile, he was out in the open, and floundering.

“They’re, uh… late. Late client.” he smiled nervously. The boss looked at him, eyes narrowed in confusion, but simply shook it off.

“Just have them on my desk by tomorrow, okay? Now, who’s next?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at his desk, (and with his pants hiked higher than ever) James let out a deep sigh, wincing as his buckle pinched sensitive belly fat.

“Just keep it together, James....” he whispered to himself. He tried to bounce his leg, but found that it just made the rest of him bounce too, and stopped. He logged into his computer with one hand, the other squeezing the stress ball on his desk, but it only reminded him of how much softer he was…

Throwing the ball in the trash can by his foot, he decided his best bet was to focus on his work. Not on the fat ass threatening to blow out the seat of his pants, not on the small overhang his belly would surely be creating if he wore his pants correctly. And not on the strange warmth rushing to his head… just financial information, market watches, and emails.

Five minutes later, and he was still staring at his home screen, unable to bring himself to start working. There was just something at the back of his mind, something creeping up on him; a deep hunger that swelled up inside of him like a consumptive balloon.

“That’s it… just hungry is all…” he assured himself, pushing away from his desk. All he needed was an early lunch, and it would be back to work as usual. Something light…

Before he knew it, he was sitting down at the cafeteria with three hefty cheeseburgers and a heaping plate of thin fries drowned in cheese.

James took a thick, mouth-filling bite of a burger, losing himself in bliss.

“Mmf, so good…” he moaned to himself, prompting a blushing intern to speedwalk to the exit. One hefty gulp down, he sucked down a glob of sugary vanilla milkshake, chasing it with a handful of fries and another bite of burger. Not only did it chip away at the hunger, but his worry too. Suddenly he felt okay; eating like this felt *right*. He absentmindedly rubbed his belly, the gentle touch enough to rip away another button and rub cheese onto his shirt. He didn’t care; why should he? The belly beneath his hand was soft, fat, and jiggly, and it was fun to pat and wobble. And the more he ate, the more he was able to wobble it. One burger down-- and another button popped-- he felt twice as comfortable. Arm fat billowed out in his shirt, small rips forming that pushed dollops of fat through. Pant fibre finally reached capacity, pulling back from his pudgy calves as his thighs claimed ever more real estate within them. Fingers and toes chubbed into cute little sausages. Wrists, ankles, and neck slowly became less defined. Cheeks chubbed, chin flubbed; his masculinity was smudged by the heaps of fat, androgyny taking the wheel.

But still he munched, a happy grin on his face as he grazed the haystack of fries. The warm feeling in his head turned hot, two points burning the warmest… but two points on his chest gained his attention the most. His chest-- rather, his breasts-- ached terribly, prompting a whine from the freshly cherubic gentleman. Pudgy fingers pawed at the last button left on his shirt, but it was simply too tight to be undone. Instead, he opted to just rub at his moobs beneath the fabric, gulping his shake heartily. Finally, the button popped, and he let out a sigh of relief as his fat breasts plapped onto his belly. The sudden motion forced milk out of the little pink nipples in small rivulets, drops running down the curve of the swollen mounds and dripping onto his belly.

“G-Guh…” he groaned, scooping the last of the food into his maw just as his belt buckle burst off. He was exhausted, but sated… for now. Already, his mind was feeling clearer, and already he was starting to regret the sudden gorging… he was huge! And was that… milk?! “Sir, if you’re going to be in here, you need to put on some clothes-”

The security guard looked taken aback as James turned and unsteadily rose, his pants open and his shirt hanging free. His ass fat rose behind him like two fat pumpkins squeezed into a pair of briefs, rising up with plentiful flesh visible.

“A-Are you okay?...”

James huffed, wobbling on his feet as he attempted to center himself. “I’m- *bruuuarp* o-oh, sorry…”

The guard just stood, watching him slowly lumber out of the cafeteria and off towards the elevator.

“They don’t pay me enough for this…”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The slow drive was filled with a quiet anxiety, wondering if Kriss was right: what if he had just gone to the doctor in the first place? Why didn’t he just go to a real hospital to see why he was dripping milk all over the upholstery? That was it, though. He knew why he was like this… where else could it have come from?

Doctor Sweet.

Sweat dripped from his apron of a belly as he squeezed in through the front door. The receptionist simply buzzed him through, and he waddled straight into the pastoral office.

“Aha, James! Right on schedule. Please, have a seat.”

James panted heavily, taking the time to rest on the doorway before he entered.

“What… did you do?” he huffed, continuing on towards the desk. “Look at me! This… has to be some kind of reaction… to that medicine!”

The doctor smiled, unfazed by his bloated appearance. “I’ll say. I’d be more than willing to explain it, if you’d just have a seat.”

James stopped, the exhaustion he felt quickly overtaking his urges towards aggression. “F-Fine…”

The massive boy collapsed in the seat like a falling boulder, nearly taking up the whole couch with his bulk.

“Excellent. Now then… you said there was a reaction, yes?”

James gestured to his body.

“So… chills, fever…?”

“I’m fat! I’m huge! I’m… l-leaking!” he burst out, wobbling in anger. Try as he might to seem imposing, he felt like a bowl of pudding.

“Oh. Oh dear, I see the problem… you must’ve skipped the waiver.” Dr. Sweet sighed, shaking his head. “Well, too late for take backs now, I’m afraid.”

James put his hands on his belly in worry. “W-What do you mean?”

“Well, if you’d read the waiver… you’d see that this therapy involves a permanent genetic alteration.”

“G-Genetic?...”

“Yes. We force a mutation-- I won’t get too deep into it now, there’s really no use-- to shave off the rough edges, essentially. I felt it would be important in your case to emphasize the potential for softness, and it seems your body agreed. Surround yourself with soft, and become soft.”

“That… that’s-” James struggled, trailing away quietly.

The doctor continued. “You see, I was like you at a time. Angry, frustrated, stressed, upset at life… but my time as a dairy worker gave me new insight. Being surrounded by gentle docility at all hours of the day taught me to be gentle and caring myself. But this process took years... once I started in medicine, I spent endless hours trying to find how to distill this process into a formula, to turn the experience into a chemical.”

James watched him with confusion, hands gently kneading his fat to keep himself calm.

“Well, I discovered it alright. It’s a bit unwieldy, but with a little guided thinking, it works wonders. Really brings the farm experience home, wouldn't you agree?”

James looked down at his belly, at his nipples streaming milk onto his bellybutton. “Y-You’re saying I’m turning into…”

“A cow, yes. You’re well on your way, in fact. Here, take a look.”

The doctor withdrew a handheld mirror from his desk, and held it up for James to see. He felt like he was staring into a barber mirror, only instead of finding himself with a new haircut, it was fuzzy cow ears and a set of tiny, nubby horns on his head. And somehow, it didn’t feel wrong… in fact, he felt pretty cute.

“Oh… woah…” he murmured, poking the ear gently.

“See? Nothing to worry about! And just as stated in the forms, you’ll be paid a weekly sum for participating in this new therapy. I doubt a cow would be acceptable in an office building, aha.”

James patted his cheeks, a smile forming on his face.

“And if you’ll allow me…”

The doctor set down the mirror, and withdrew a familiar milky white bottle.

“...I’d like to finish what we started.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kriss waited in the kitchen, checking his watch every few minutes, waiting for James to get off of work so he could take him to the hospital. He shouldn’t have even let him go to work… what if he was more sick than he thought? What if it wasn’t just swelling? What if-

*Thud* The front door shut, and Kriss sprang up from his chair, scrambling into the living room.

“James-”

The breath caught in his chest as he took in the full scope of his boyfriend. The 200-and-change chubster who had left that morning had blossomed into a wide, easily 600 lb. wall of blubber. He stared up at his polished, nubby horns, at his furry ears, down at his absolutely shirt-shredding tits… blood rushed into his face so fast he stumbled, nearly falling forward.

“Oh no, are you okay?” James asked, bright blue eyes full of worry. He waddled forward, belly rippling against the front of each knee as he slowly walked like he was wading through waist-high waters. His chest swayed back and forth, barely contained by a tiny stretched-out tee. Despite being more than three inches taller than him, Kriss suddenly found himself pressed face first into warm boy cleavage, peachy flesh enveloping him. James’s flabby, pillowy arms pressed around his back as he cuddled him in an embrace.

“What… happened?” he breathed, head spinning as he tried to process the changes in his boyfriend.

“O-Oh! Right… it’s part of the therapy! Dr. Sweet made me into a big cuddly cow, and I really like it!” he smiled, clasping his chubby hands together. “Though, we may need to get some new clothes… these shorts are kinda tight on my butt.”

For added emphasis, he slowly turned around, revealing the skin-tight shorts had all but retreated into his huge, bare ass, the rolls of his back flab sagging down to nearly meet the top of them.

“A-Aha... “ Kriss said, woozy once more. He clutched the wall to keep from falling over.

“Do… do you not like it?” James asked, timidly pushing his fat thighs together. His ears twitched gently, sending an arrow straight through Kriss’s heart.

“When I read the waiver, I didn’t expect it to be like, well… all of this. Babe… you’re so adorable my head is going to explode. ”

A happy smile brightened his face once more, and James let out a little laugh. “G-Gosh, don’t scare me like that!”

Headrush fleeting, Kriss managed to push off the wall and back into the arms of his lover. He pecked at his blubbery neck, giving him gentle kisses up and across his cheek.

“O-Ooh, these are nice…” Kriss murmured, squeezing his arms around his chest. “You’re like a big stress ball, I love it.”

“H-Hey, careful, they’re still a little full…”

Kriss moved in for a kiss on the lips, pulling away to give his chest another little squeeze. “Full? Like… with milk?”

James nodded. “You’ll have to milk me until the pump arrives, otherwise they’ll get too full and I’ll start to ache… that is, if you want to. I can still just go to the clinic-”

Kriss tugged at his shirt, freeing one of his blubbery boobs. His thumb traced the nipple gently, practically melting James into a puddle.

“A-Ah, god, have you done this before?...”

“No…” Kriss said, bringing the breast to his mouth. Sweet, creamy milk flowed onto his tongue, which he swallowed down. “But I can learn.”

#male weight gain #fat male #male lactation #ssbhm #boycow #moo

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lowritesthings · 4 years

Text

Resonance

Part 8 of ?? (Part One) << Previous

You’re helping to serve everyone dinner when Biggs appears downstairs for the first time, pale and groaning in pain but trying to smile through it for the kids. He’s wearing nothing but his shorts and bandages, and he’s gripping his battered ribs.

“What are you doing out of bed?” you ask, scrambling to his side to help take the weight off of his injured leg.

“Can’t lay around up there all day like a slob,” he quips, though his jaw is tight with pain and there’s still a raw look in his eyes that worries you. He must see your concern because he tries to give you a reassuring little squeeze. You help him to a chair and grab him some food.

All through the meal, he talks with the kids. He comforts the ones from Seven that have lost their homes, and he tries to lift the spirits of them all, knowing that the orphans from Five are scared too, even if they haven’t lost as much as the kids from Seven. You and Folia have to remind the younger children more than once to be gentle or else they’d all be trying to hug him. He’s patient with it all, even when they jostle his hurt ribs or get loud while his head no doubt still aches.

When the meal is over he grabs you before you can disappear back into the kitchen to wash the dishes.

“Is there any...any news? About Wedge or Jessie?” he asks quietly.

“No, I’m sorry. The search and rescue crews are still combing through the debris and the news is all about President Shinra’s death and what happens next for the company.”

Biggs clenches his jaw but nods. “In that case, what can I do to help around here?”

Your lips quirk into a half-smile and you shake your head. “Rest and heal.” He opens his mouth to protest but you cut him off with a wave of your hand. “Whatever comes next, you’ll want to be as close to full strength as possible. The staff can handle the kids. You focus on regaining some strength.”

“I don’t want to be in the way,” he says. You can see how frustrated he feels to be injured and trapped while the fates of his loved ones are unknown.

“You won’t be. Especially if you rest up at my place,” you tell him.

“But what about—?”

“I’ll be here most of the time anyway, so you’d be doing me a favor keeping an eye on the place. I’ll take you over there tonight once I’ve helped clean up a bit.”

He hesitates, then he nods and retreats to his chair, groaning again as he sinks down onto it. You head into the kitchen to finish working.

It takes a while to wrap up all your duties at the Leaf House, but at last you’re free to go. Biggs is half asleep when you return to his side, so you give his good shoulder a gentle shake. His eyes snap open and focus on you, instantly softening at the sight of your face.

“Let’s get you home,” you say, helping him to his feet. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and your arm slips around his waist to help support his weight, careful not to put any pressure around his midsection that might make his ribs hurt worse. Once you’ve positioned yourselves, you set out. He’s definitely not comfortable, but he doesn’t complain as you begin the short but slow trek to your flat.

“Do you think Jessie’s alive?” he asks.

“I don’t know. She’s incredibly tough and she’d never give up her will to live, so if anyone survived it would be her,” you say.

“But?”

“But...I watched skyscrapers fall on top of a shanty town made out of scrap metal. It’s hard to imagine many people walking away from that.”

“I did,” he reminds you.

“You did,” you agree, “and I’m grateful for that, more than you know. I can only hope she has some of your luck.”

“And Wedge?”

“Disappeared when he realized that Tifa, Cloud and Barret had gone topside. No one’s heard anything since.”

Biggs lets out a long sigh. “I don’t suppose those three are coming back any time soon?”

“I don’t know. If they had a hand in President Shinra’s death, I don’t think they could come back even if they wanted to. I’m sure the Turks are already after them.” You glance at him. His face is drawn with pain but still so handsome in the low light. Suddenly you wonder if he’ll disappear too, off searching for everyone else. The thought is painful enough to bring the sting of tears to your eyes, but you blink them away before he can see.

At last you reach your front door. Your heart starts to pound as you let him inside. For a moment you picture swinging him around, pressing him against the door and kissing him senseless. You have to clench your hands into fists and remind yourself he’s hurt in order to control the urge. Still, you can feel your cheeks heat as you try to get the image out of your mind.

“I’ll take the couch,” he says, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s very gallant but your ribs and shoulder aren’t up for it. The bed is yours; I’ll be sleeping on the couch,” you reply.

You gesture for him to follow you down the hall and he gives you an exasperated look. “Is arguing with you gonna work?” he asks.

“Not in the slightest,” you reply with a sweet smile, and he smirks a bit and shakes his head before following you back into the bedroom.

The room is dominated by your bed, though there’s a night table and a dresser in there as well. Your favorite items are neatly arranged around the room and your bed is covered in soft sheets and a fluffy comforter. You’d splurged on your bedding since you’re so busy that most of your time at home is spent sleeping.

“Well that looks comfortable,” Biggs comments when he sees it.

“I...may have spoiled myself a bit. But now you get to reap the benefits,” you tell him. You turn down the covers and then help him lower himself onto the bed. He’s watching your face as you make sure he’s not positioned in a way that will make his injuries worse or cause him more pain than necessary.

“Do you need anything?” you ask once he’s situated.

“Just one thing,” he replies—and then he catches your wrist and tugs you down onto the bed next to him.

Carefully, you tuck yourself against his left side and rest your head on his chest. The steady thump of his heart is reassuring even though you’re listening to it through bandages. You feel the gentle pressure of his chin on the top of your head and close your eyes, trying to memorize every sensation.

“What will you do?” you ask.

“I want to find Wedge and Jessie.” You feel his throat work a little as the full tragedy of the situation hits him again. “Then I guess it will be time to find a new home.”

Considering the fact that his home is buried under the remains of a city block, that’s a completely logical answer. But you feel a pang at the thought of being separated again after you’ve just gotten him back from the dead.

“You know you're always welcome here,” you tell him. You feel his fingers toy with your hair.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment. You can hear the deep gratitude in his voice and it makes you burn to say more, to confess your feelings for him. But that would be selfish in the wake of all he’s lost, especially if he doesn’t feel the same.

There will be time, you think. He needs to heal a little first. I’ll get my chance.

Eventually he falls asleep and you pull away from him to make yourself a bed on the couch. But you can’t resist kissing the corner of his lips before you leave him for the night.

——

A couple days later and you’re starting to find your new routine. Biggs is still too hurt to spend much time up and about, but you can tell that he’s only going to tolerate bed rest for another day or two. The Leaf House is beginning to gather enough supplies to care for all of its latest additions. Life is quietening down again, even if it will never be the same.

That’s when you spot the phalanx of Shinra guards moving through the street. In the center of the formation, one tall man with eyes like granite is taking in the slums, studying everything he walks past. You exchange a look with Folia—what does this mean?

It isn’t long before you (and everyone in this corner of Sector Five) find out: the tall man is named Julian Pierce, and he is the new high commissioner of the undercity. All the slums are now under his direct command.

“What’s a high commissioner?” one of the little girls whispers to you as he stops to introduce himself to the House Mother.

“He’s...kind of like a president,” you reply quietly. “He’s the one in charge of all of us.”

“No one’s in charge of me!” the girl insists, but you shush her gently and watch High Commissioner Pierce speak with your boss. He seems calm, polite, even cordial—but his eyes are glacier-cold as they sweep over the old brick building and all the orphaned children in the yard.

“You will be provided with what you need to care for these children. Furthermore, I will appoint a proctor to assist you with their education. My office will contact you with further information,” he says to the House Mother. Then he continues on, moving through the streets with his guards and leaving a chill in his wake.

Rufus Shinra is clearly consolidating his hold on the city and sealing off the power vacuum left behind by his father—and he’s starting off by closing his fist around the slums. Something sinks into the pit of your stomach.

This can’t be good news.

#biggs x reader #ff7 biggs #ffvii biggs #ff7r #fic: resonance #lo writes things

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venuscommissions · 4 years

Photo

heyooo guys ! so , last four months were literal hell for most people worldwide, me & my family included ! shit sucked balls , but thankfully i’m proud to announce that we’re slowly but surely getting back on our feet . a lot of you were genuinely concerned , & i received a ton of asks inquiring about my well-being & sending words of encouragement / hope / well wishes my way ... which even though i wasn’t in the right frame of mind to answer back then, they still warmed my heart & gave me some much needed strength. since , many asks are asking similar things, i thought it best to make one faq sorta post rather than answering each individually and clogging people’s dashboards.

so, basically a lotta third world bullshit happened, food stuff, medical stuff, etc. as my government implemented a very strict ( read : brutal ) lockdown that lasted more than three months. i don’t want to get into, because many people have had troubling times recently & i’d rather not make anyone upset / sad or even trigger them in any way. Know this though, after few months of me trying to just survive & not fucking starve, one of the main reasons of my not being active or doing anything was my laptop constantly breaking down, the issue with it being very simple, my ram slot had some carbon gunk on it, but alas. the first time it crashed in the beginning of may, the call center got me doing some tests on the phone via keyboard keys ( because laptop wasn’t opening. ) & they diagnosed that the issue was that my ram needed to be replaced. & since i wasn’t an essential worker ( i.e government or hospital worker ) they weren’t allowed to give me priority service or machine parts. it took them a month for them to ship the ram to my cities service center & to get a guy to my house to put it in. & when he did, the guy was either so overworked or stupid enough that he didn’t notice that there was some carbon gunk inside the ram slot & not just on the old ram chip. my laptop worked fine for some days, but crashed again. this time around, they once again put me on a waiting list, & it took the guy almost three weeks to come back around. this time though he finally fixed it, & i was able to start working again. so , yeah, i’m ok now guys, mostly lol ... but it really meant a lot to me that you guys cared enough to ask !

no, i’m not opening commissions right away, hopefully by the end of this month though. if you do wanna commission me though, & wanna be the first ones I inform when i do open, SEND ME A MESSAGE ON THIS TEMPORARY SIDEBLOG : @vc-neworders . please mention what you are planning to order & for which character, etc.

yes, even though my laptop was fixed at the end of june, & i’ve been working nonstop, i’ve only been able to finish half of my pending orders. this is partly due to me having 1500+ ims about stuff like psd recommendation & other general questions that people ask commissioners in my i.m. chat box that have accumulated during my four month absence & i’m having trouble finding pending orders as i have to deal with each chat one at a time & the shitty little chat box refreshes after every message i send. & also partly because this weeks of monday was a deadline for a ton of term end assignments & essays that i was supposed to have done over the summer but couldn’t because no laptop. IF YOU HAVE A PENDING ORDER THOUGH, PLEASE SEND ME A NEW MESSAGE. this will help me find our chat & subsequently your order & finish it. you will also be gifted various freebies from my side as an apology for the huge delay & for being so patient & understanding during these shitty times.

firstly, let me say how touched i was that so many people wanted to know if their was anyway they could help me, it made me all melty inside omg. and since i still won’t be able to open commissions for a bit, it is a very good question lol.... so, here’s how you can help support me till i’m able to open commissions :

BUY PSDs , ETC. FROM MY DEVIANTART SHOP ! all the stuff available can also be bought via PAYPAL , just DM me .

ALSO , THESE SALE DISCOUNTS ARE STILL AVAILABLE UNTIL I SAY OTHERWISE !

BECOME A PATREON ! this month i’m offering two exclusive psds for the price of one, to celebrate me surviving the world almost ending. THIS MONTHS PSD PREVIEWS !

BUY ME A KO-FI !

ONCE AGAIN , thank you so much for bearing with me, being patient with me & for just sending me some love when i needed it the most !

#I LOVE U GUYS

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iggy-of-fans · 5 years

Text

Part 6, here we are! Also, I hope nobody thinks I don't like Raven. She's literally my favorite TT ever. Hopefully I didn't lose too many of you to her turning. She does get a redemption, I promise!

Now, we're going to have the conclusion and the epilogue and then I'm done this one.

What is will always be

Damian had seen several of the magic users take to corners in the ballroom, and so when Jason returned fully costumed he took the Cat Miraculous and ran to the cave. He found Tim about to transform and stopped him.

"Take this one and transform instead" he said, "the weapon is a staff anyways. Give me the fox. I have an easier time hiding the eears under my hood. And my costume is brighter. No one will look twice at orange thrown in."

"That is…. Brilliant…. No One would believe you switched to a baton, and I don't know if we can switch weapons… Not that a flute is all that… Useful." Timothy said, handing the fox tail to Damien. They transformed quickly and threw on their costumes, finishing just in time for the others to start making their way down. Timothy tried to make it look like he was hiding something much larger than the little black triangles that blended into his hair, while Robin made sure his hat stayed securely on.

"The situation we find ourselves in today…."

When the JL saw that they had two missing teens Alfred decided to step in. He was out of practice, but he was sure he could help the teens. He looked to Oracle and begged the Miraculous box to open for him. It seemed his prayer was heard, at least somewhat, as the butterfly Miraculous fased up through the box.

"Oracle, take this. I will need your help to save those kids" Alfred handed her the Miraculous. Noroo awoke and looked at the woman, sitting patiently in a wheelchair and he gasped.

"oh my poor fairy! Who hurt you so?! I was hurt before too, do you want to help each other heal?" Noroo was quite young in comparison to the others in the inner circle and had very little experience out in the world. But he was eager to redeem himself in the eyes of the world. Barbara was shocked, but nodded. When the light faded, she sat in her chair with new purpose. A butterfly was born from her good intentions to help and landed on her hand. "Magic is so weird" she mumbled, before she thought of how to help the kids. She'd seen the fear in the shorter boys, but the taller one was determined to do the right thing. Him then. She powered up the butterfly, watching as Alfred concentrated hard as well. With a wave of his fan, the butterfly and feather took off to Metropolis.

… "Here's the plan, everyone. I need Tim to create an illusion of Robin to get close to Adrien and Alya. Then-"

"Sorry to interrupt Angel, but I don't fight with a staff" Robin stated, lifting his hood slightly to reveal the long fox ears. He dropped it and Guardian Angel looked shocked for a second.

"You brilliant, brilliant man!" she called, "Okay, new plan. We need a comm from their end. Can anyone do an impression of someone? Like Bane or something?"

"That would be me!" Red Hood called through the comms, shooting another assassin between the eyes.

"Perfect! Robin, use the mirage to create a ring under your left glove, make it real. You will have to be able to fake a cataclysm midway through, can you do that?" Robin just nodded his head, pulling the flute out from under his Cape and creating a perfect Bane replica. The battle still raging produced the perfect cover for them.

" Now, make it look like he's dragging you, don't fight too hard, or your illusion will vanish. Superman, get the real Bane and at least break his comm. Take the nerve toxin from Red Robin. Someone get the Red Hood the enemy communicator. Wonder Woman, assist Superman. Supergirl and Superboy. Are you recovered enough to take the ground troops out? Perfect. Remember Robin, you'll have to make an illusion of the ladybug earrings too. Tikki knows to run and hide as soon as he's distracted."

In Metropolis, Max had long since gone from scared to catatonic. Barely breathing and too terrified to speak. He'd been separated from Nino after their message was discovered. He was as good as dead.

Nino on the other hand kept tugging at his binds. There is a way out. Ladybug and Marinette would've found one. By Wayzz he hated himself. Why the hell had he let Lila get in the way of years of friendship? How had he believed the utter crap that came out of her mouth?

Luther had decided it wasn't worth the trouble to kill them since Adrien planned to just resurrect them with his wish, so he left them tied (and beaten and bloody) in a couple of offices on the top floor.. Nino glared at the door, anger coursing through him.

"Justice, I am Fairy Oracle, from Gotham. I can help you and your friend escape from not only this maniac, but away from the ones you once called friends."

"And I am Påfugl. I will lend you a companion to aide in your escape. If you accept our aide, unlike when you were Akumatized, you will remember and have ultimate control of your actions. What do you say?"

"I accept" Nino whispered. Immediately a green light overtook him. He felt the new powers coursing through him, but looking down he didn't look like his outlandish Bubbler form, but rather a bit like the American heroes, with a simple green spandex suit. He flexed his muscles. He didn't look too different from usual, didn't feel too different. But the binding broke from his muscles like glass. He wondered what the power up was hidden in. He hadn't seen the butterfly… Shrugging he looked to the door. He knew roughly that Max was in another office to the right of his own door. He also knew he had a minimum of four guards to fight through. He looked around for the companion he was supposed to receive.

"Look outside" a voice whispered through his head. He looked and saw a falcon flying in the distance, "when you're ready, jump. We will catch you."

Oh… Okay. He looked at the door and checked the slit to see if it was locked. Of course it was. Okay. Let's see how strong he really was. He yanked the door with all his might, pulling the door clear off the wall. Oops. The guards turned to look at this unknown and lifted their guns. Well, so much for stealth, Nino thought as he threw the door at the two guards. He saw the two that had take Max running down the hall from his right and he quickly picked the door back up and threw it at them too before taking off towards the rooms at the end of the hall. He broke three doors before he found Max, gaping at him like he had two heads.

"Let's GO!" Nino yelled, breaking the rope on Max and jumping out the nearest window.

"OH please dear God if I rot in jail, please just get us out of here" he whispered as he and Max fell fifteen stories and counting. Suddenly they abruptly stopped falling, claws closing in on their shirts as a giant falcon swooped over them and lifted off towards Gotham. Distantly Nino still heard the shouts from guards to shoot, but they were out of range.

With Bane subdued with Neuro-inhibitors, the assassins placed into bullet proof glass boxes, Scarecrow on his way to Arkham, and a quick Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, the heroes were left with a passed out Adrien and a cuffed Alya. Commissioner Gordon wanted to have Adrien brought to the hospital for treatment and Alya to the police station for questioning. But the heroes wouldn't be left out. Batman insisted he and Wonder Woman head to the hospital with Adrien. Red Hood nodded and asked Supergirl to accompany himself with Alya. Nightwing nodded to the passed out Raven, being held in cuffs by Star fire. Robin took hold of Guardian Angel and offered her a ride home on his Robin Bike. She smiled and was about to nod when a bird cry was heard from above. Looking up, everyone saw a giant falcon landing with two boys in its claws. They recognized them immediately as Max Kantê and Nino Lahiffe. Commissioner Gordon took them into custody as well, to decide what to do with them after, giving the heroes not joining for the Interrogation a rest. Guardian Angel thanked Comissioner Gordon, and went with Robin back to the batcave.

Once there, along with several other heroes who were recovering, Marinette tuned in to the screen where Red Hood and Supergirl were with Alya.

"Miss Cesaire, I am curious about what led you to follow Mr Agreste to Gotham" a translator sat in the room, turning her head to Alya.

"Lila Rossi is not a liar! I'm a journalist, I know this! She can't be a liar. That means Ladybug is and I just wanted her to admit Lila was telling the truth!" Alya screamed in frustration. The translator frowned as she spoke to Comissioner Gordon.

"What does that have to do with this incident?"

And so Red Hood gave the run down of Paris and what happened to Rossi, including her deportation and multiple lawsuits she was facing currently. The translator explained to Alya that the lawsuits were from both individuals who'd been lied about, including Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, as well as the city of Paris on behalf of Ladybug. Alya paled with the words, shaking her head frantically.

"Did you or did you not lead the planned attack on a former classmate on behalf of Lila Rossi?" Red Hood asked. But Alya was mute. She wasn't wrong. She wasn't wrong.

" Marinette was just jealous" Alya whispered. She wasn't wrong! "Marinette was just so jealous, she bullied Lila!" she finally screamed, "Ladybug could have fixed her!"

"Has the girl mentioned, Marinette, ever shown bullying tendencies before? Been outwardly cruel or antagonistic when provoked or jealous?" Comissioner Gordon broke in. Alya froze. She thought about Kagami and Chloe and all the girls involved in Adrien's life and tried to come up with an example. She lowered her head and shook it no.

" Has Ladybug ever been able to bring back a deceased that was killed outside of a magical attack by these Akuma?"

"She cured Lila's tinnitus!" she exclaimed.

"the same Lila that lied about being bullied, and has lawsuits against her from multiple sources? You believe this to be a credible source? Let me ask this, has she ever cured anyone else of chronic illness?" Gordon asked. Alya shook her head.

"So you came here with the intention of what… Using Ladybug, aka, Guardian Angel, to bring back all those you and your partner killed?" Gordon looked skeptical.

"you can wish for anything with the jewel of creation and destruction. Even for life to be breathed into the dead" Alya said clearly.

"Is that a fact?" Gordon turned to Red Hood. He shook his head.

"The consequences of making any wish can be destructive. A wish for peace might kill half the population, simply because less population means more resources. The law of Alchemy states that everything must remain in balance. To bring back a dear friend, you have to lose another dear friend first. To bring back 14 innocent people, 14 other innocent people would have to die. From my understanding, they planned on not only resurrecting the people they themselves killed, but also the classmate who committed suicide. On top of this, they also planned on creating a "perfect world" in conjunction, to make sure no conflict happened in their class specifically" Red Hood played the video on his phone of Nino explaining this before he was caught. Gordon frowned. He glared at Alya, who was pale. They couldn't bring them back. They couldn't bring any of them back and that meant Marinette was dead and she'd never be able to see or hug or apologize or…. Alya puked on the floor. The realization that even limitless power was in fact limited. Gordon nodded and told an officer to put her in a cell and call Paris.

When Adrien awoke, he was cuffed to a hospital bed, his head was bandaged down past the right eye, and his torso was strapped to the bed with a warm blanket. In the room with him were Wonder Woman and Batman. He frowned.

"Mr Agreste. Do you know where you are?" Wonder Woman asked. He tried to shake his head but he opened his mouth anyways.

"Gotham City" his voice was scratchy and dry.

"Do you know why we are here?"

"I tried to get the Ladybug and Cat mirculouses."

"Why?"

"Because Ladybug should've healed Marinette. My Princess should be here with me. Ladybug was jealous and let her die and sent Lila away and took my ring and my family from me! Everything was ruined because of her!" Adrien shouted. Batman looked at him. This was going to be a long day.

"Tell us what happened from your perspective?"

And Adrien did.

Okay, so.... Here's part six. Seven will be really short but I couldn't find a way to include it in this.

@bookreader20003

@mooshoon @artxyra @spicybelladonna @northernbluetongue @kuroko26 @mystery-5-5 @2sunchild2 @iwantswifttoblessmysoul @zelladane @ellerahs @thedarkwhiteangel @resignedcatservant @scribblinggraveyard @alexzandria-747 @nyctamaximoff @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @sapphiraazure2708 @tinybrie @dudet @thatrandomfandomsgirl @lunar-wolf-warrior @zazzlejazzle @zebrabaker @constancestruggle @unabashedbookworm @ginamarie1512 @mindfulmagics @bitterheart12224 @captainmac6 @blue-peach14 @enduskdragon @multishipper1needshalp @abrx2002

@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen

#daminette #damian wayne #marinette x damian #marinette dupain cheng #maribat #marinette deserves better #maridami #Batfam #justice league #Lex luthor #Wonder woman

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