#as you can tell from the sketch the neck was suppose to be longer but it looked wrong lol

[fly-sky-high-arts]

Have a WIP of the next adopt tho :)

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

blessings

old man!Joel Miller x reader | wc 1.1 k | fluff mdni | ao3

summary: Joel's body is aching and so is his soul, but you make it all better or a domestic moment with Joel and you.

warnings: fluff without plot, no y/n, established relationship, unspecified agegap (think reader being around 30), Joel having bad joints but hey, he is 62 and alive, kisses, Joel being a cute grump, so many feelings, so much love, petnames (baby, darlin', angel)

notes: this is my attempt of making us all feel better. Joel will outlive me, thank you very much. a big kiss and thank you to my partner in crime fluff @guiltyasdave for writing with me today and beta'ing and being the best person 💛💛💛

The damp cold has been hard on him. Joel won't say a single word about it, he won't complain. But his face will twist when he moves, he will huff when the pain shoots through him, he will rub his knees and wrists and fingers without even noticing it. He'll seek the warmth a little more, when he can. Because the days on the construction sites are long, even longer when he only sits crouched over his desk. The wintery cold crawls closer every minute he broods over sketches or some tiny, tricky apparatus he wants to repair but can't, because his fingers are stiff and cold and he isn’t 40 anymore.

His whole body aches when he finally gets home. And all Joel wants now is a warm shower, a warm meal and your warm body against his. He feels like a burden, these days more than usual. This isn’t like it was supposed to be, he thinks when he hears you humming in the living room, some tune from 2003, a tune he was too old for even then. You are too young. Too kind.

“Hi baby,” you whisper into his good ear and wrap your arms around him. He grunts, frowning, a fake offended expression pronouncing some wrinkles on his face and smoothing others out. Baby. He likes that, likes being called that, likes being loved. A late blessing in his life.

“Don’t…” he mumbles when you hug him tight and burrow your nose deep into the collar of his flannel. He smells like fresh cut wood, dust, sweat, home. You inhale him deeply, sighing happily against his skin before you kiss him there. “I need a shower. Get off of me, nasty thing.”

Yet Joel stays put, his big paws and your arms make sure you keep on holding him a little longer. A week or a year, a decade if he dares to dream really big. He'd die a happy man today if the Lord decided that his time has come. But that doesn’t mean he wants to go. But if he had to, he’d know that he had another big love in his life. Lucky, that's what he is.

“Take a shower, then. And eat, there's soup.” You nuzzle a trail up his neck until you reach the grey scruff adorning his jaw and cheeks. It’s scratchy but soft, grey but virile, just like Joel himself. You kiss his cheek and hold your lips there until he groans again. It’s all part of the game, a game called Joel is grumpy, no really, he is when he is nothing but a loving man.

“Yes, ma'am,” he grumbles but there is a smile painting his timbre. “Thank you, darlin’,” he adds and gratefulness joins the smiley tone of his voice.

You sit with him, watch him eat because you already ate with Ellie. You serve him a side of the latest gossip, some youngins fooling around, breaking up in the middle of the street. He laughs and shakes his head, says something about how young love makes you do crazy things and when he looks at you – with your chin propped up on your folded hands, smiling at him – he is reminded that you are the same age as these young fools. You are more than grown up and an adult, you are a whole woman, have a whole story and lived a life before Jackson, but still, there are decades between you.

Young love really makes you do crazy things, loving an old man like him for example.

His stiff muscles and cold bones got a little better in the hot shower, and when he joins you on the edge of the bed he can feel the siren call of your warmth.

You can tell that he hurts. He never says a single word about it. But he hisses and grunts when he thinks you don't hear him. He curses his old bones and you spend your days lifting those curses, one by one, with kisses and caresses. You take the towel from him and continue drying his grey curls, knowing each one of them by name. You move behind him and dab his back dry, taking an inventory of his scars and spots and blemishes. Constellations, you think, and draw an invisible line to mark the Big Dipper he carries below his right shoulder blade.

Joel groans and shifts, both impatient for you to stop and not wanting you to ever stop. He shivers, the cold crawls over the hardwood floor and nips on his ankles.

“Need to lay down now, ‘m cold.” He tugs at the covers and you move to lift them for you and him. With a sigh he leans back, slowly – because his back is protesting – until he feels the mattress beneath welcoming him. The dips his body has carved into the worn material are hugging him but there is no warmth, just the promise of simple and plain sleep. But when your arms loop around him and your hands skim across his chest and arms? There is warmth. And he knows he will rest and recharge and recover.

His feet sneak closer to yours and his hands slip between your legs. You muffle your yelp against his shoulder and Joel sighs contently when the soft heat of your thighs starts seeping into his aching joints. When spring comes around, he'll be able to use his fingers on you again, differently, like he knows you're aching for. For now all he can do is soak up your care and love for him.

“You deserve better, darlin’,” he whispers between placing kisses on your temple, “Deserve someone your age, who can make ya happy and–”

“--still has a life to live and who can give me what I need,” you finish his sentence for him. “I know, I know. Ever considered that you are who I need? And want?”

Joel scoffs but he's smiling. Blessed, that’s what he is.

“Stubborn thing.”

“Just matching your energy, Miller.”

Another scoff and he's pulling one of your legs between his. Tangled, intertwined, not planning on letting you go, as long as he can manage to hold you by his side.

With your head tucked under his chin and your hand slowly rubbing his back, right where a scar sits and always makes his muscles knot, you close your eyes. He still smells like wood and musk, like what you've searched for for so long and found in his arms.

“Love you,” you murmur, tongue already heavy from the looming sleep.

“Love you the most, angel,” Joel answers and nuzzles the top of your head. Counting his blessings before he falls asleep. His daughters, his nephew. His brother and Maria. The people he loved along the way and still loves. And with you on his mind, as his last blessing, he drifts off.

I hope this could make you feel a little better on this Monday, please let me know know your thoughts, comments and especially reblogs are welcome! 🫶

general masterlist here

dividers: @/diviniyae

[bedoballoons]

Just wrote a Sumeru boys request and when I saw there was another one I got so excited!! AHH I LOVE CUDDLY READER!! Thank you for this request and I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️

{༻~Cuddles, snuggles and warm bundles~༺}

CW: GN! Reader, fluffy cuddles with the Sumeru boys!!

(Includes: Tighnari, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Wanderer, and Cyno!)

𑁍༄Tighnari:

You pulled the blanket around you tighter, the chill of the morning making you want to stay in bed and cuddle with Tighnari all day, feeling his fluffy tail wrapped around you and his arms sleepy holding you against him. Maybe he felt the same way you did, or maybe you both were so comfortable that any other plans no longer mattered, but neither of you ended up moving even after a couple hours.

Even after he fully woke up and just watched you with this dreamy gaze, even after you talked for hours about everything going on in your life that you hadn't gotten to tell him about, even after the two of you started getting hungry. It was just...so unlike either of you to stay in bed and just, enjoy eachothers company. Forget about work and the things that make the days hurry by.

"Hey Tighnari, can we snuggle like this more often? Just take a break and catch up until we physically have to get out of bed..."

"I love that idea. I think, this may be one of my new favourite things to do"

𑁍༄Kaveh:

You watched Kaveh as he sketched out a entire new layout for the design he'd been stuck on for hours now. This one really seemed to be getting to him and even with all the help you could give, he just wasn't having a good time, he seemed stretched thin...creativity all but gone. "Kaveh, why don't you take a break hmm? We can cuddle for a little and give your mind a rest?"

He sighed in defeat and nodded, smiling as you curled under his arm, using his side as a pillow, "I'm not sure why this idea is so difficult for me to get a grasp on...it's just supposed to be a comfy look, but none of what I had in mind originally really fits what I'm going for." He kissed the top of your head as you listened to his troubles, you wished you could do more for him but you didn't really know how to design anything..,"Well, hmm. When do you feel the comfiest Kaveh?"

"When I'm with you. Oh, my gosh that's it!" He quickly grabbed his sketch pad, his pencil drawing cushions and hidden heart shaped motifs into the design...unaware he'd left you with a goofy smile and a dark blush. Maybe you were more help than you thought.

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

You placed a kiss on Alhaithams neck, feeling sleepy after cuddling with him for so long. Usually he'd have work or other things to attend to, but today, today was his day with you and that meant sitting there reading as you snuggled up to him. The room nice and warm, his arms tightly holding you in place and the gentle sound of the page flipping ever so often...maybe others would find it strange to be so quiet, awkward even, but to you two it was like a comforting silence. A time to unwind and not hear the constant chatter of others or things moving, nothing but the two of you enjoying eachothers presence.

His chin gently rested on your head and you smiled, finally letting your heavy eyelids close and nod off to sleep. You wouldn't even wake up when he carried you to bed, but the next morning would feel like a breeze, like all your stressed had just...melted away.

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer grunted as you climbed into his lap, your head resting on his chest and his arms holding you tight so you wouldn't fall. To think you'd ask for such a silly thing...to cuddle in a tree, was it something you'd seen in a romance book or dreamed of? He didn't know...he didn't even know why he'd actually agreed to it...until you were resting in his embrace, the soft flutter of leaves all around you and the branches hiding you from the rest of the world.

"It's nice isn't it Wanderer..."

"Tsk...I guess so." He hid his face in your hair, thinking about you and your wild imagination, he silently thanked you for showing him this type of love. He never thought he'd enjoy it as much as he truly did.

𑁍༄Cyno:

You smiled as Cyno kissed your cheek from behind, his hands intertwined with yours and your back resting against his chest. You wouldn't say it out loud yet, but cuddling with him were your favourite moments. Whenever he pulled you close, wether it be after he's just won a tcg game against one of his friends or after he's had a long day and just needs to hold you for comfort, you loved it.

"You okay Cyno?"

"Yes, just a had a long day and wished to be close to you..."

"Ah, well I'm here. How about I tell you a couple jokes I heard today, they made me think of you." You tilted your head back slightly so you could see his reaction and the smallest bit of a smile had already started to form. "Tell me."

"Why did the invisible man turn down the job offer?"

"Hmm why?"

"He couldn't see himself doing it." You blushed as he laughed happily, finding the joke far funnier than it actually was.

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧

[r-memberme]

every part of you | k.m

⎯⎯You still laugh sometimes, though it costs you. He still touches you like your body is the last truth left in the world. And for a little while, you almost believe there’s more time. That if you just love each other harder, deeper, louder, something might shift. Some forgotten god might look down and flinch.

warnings: death, sickness, grief, angst, no happy ending

You’re not dying.

That’s what you tell him every time his eyes linger too long. Every time he presses his hand to your forehead, to your wrist, to the small trembling spot at the base of your spine that betrays the truth. Every time he watches you breathe like he’s afraid you’ll forget how.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, and he lets you lie.

Because pretending is easier when you both do it.

He brings you tea you barely sip. Carries books into the room and pretends you asked for them. Lingers in doorways like he can ward off death by simply staying near.

You smile when you’re supposed to. Make light of the exhaustion draped over your bones. Bite your tongue when your vision goes dark around the edges. You are terrified of becoming someone he has to grieve in real time. Terrified he’ll see the slow fade, the wasting, the way magic lingers in your bloodstream like a bruise no one can touch.

You used to believe he could fix anything.

But this—whatever it is—doesn’t answer to him. It creeps beneath your skin like a godless thing. And you know better than to name it.

So you don’t.

Instead, you sit on the balcony with him and let the silence stretch. You let him trace your knuckles with his thumb. You watch the wind move through the trees and think: How strange it is, that the world keeps turning.

“Klaus,” you murmur one evening, your voice too soft for dusk.

He turns to you immediately. “Yes, love?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Just... I like the way you say my name.”

He studies you for a beat too long. As if he knows. As if he’s memorizing.

But he doesn’t call you out.

He leans in, kisses your temple, and murmurs your name again—like it’s the one spell he still believes in.

And the worst part?

You start to believe it too.

Like if he just says it enough times, you’ll stay.

༊*·˚

Some mornings still feel almost normal.

You wake before him—sometimes—and lie there listening to the steady breath that no longer belongs to life but something older, something infinite. Klaus sleeps like a man at war with rest, arms around you like a chain he forged himself, forehead against your shoulder like he’s trying to hide from the dream where you disappear.

You don’t move.

Not until the sun starts to find you both, warm and golden and cruel.

He calls those days your good ones. Brings you outside and reads you poetry like he doesn’t know what else to do with the quiet. Sketches in that old notebook of his while your head rests in his lap. You catch him drawing your hands over and over. The slope of your neck. Your mouth when you smile.

He never finishes the face.

Maybe it’s too sacred. Maybe it’s too fleeting.

You still laugh sometimes, though it costs you. He still touches you like your body is the last truth left in the world. And for a little while, you almost believe there’s more time. That if you just love each other harder, deeper, louder, something might shift. Some forgotten god might look down and flinch.

But love is not a cure.

You feel it in the way your lungs seize when you speak too long. The way your limbs drag like shadows trying to detach. The world keeps slipping sideways, and you grip the edges of Klaus’s coat like it will hold you here.

Sometimes you don’t even tell him.

You just whisper his name and bury your face in his chest.

And he holds you like he knows you’re slipping— but he still refuses to let go.

༊*·˚

Klaus never says the word.

Not once.

Not in all the midnight hours spent pacing beside your bed, not in the silence after your body gives out halfway through a dance, not when your hands shake so badly you can’t lace your boots. He never even lets it form behind his eyes.

You’re just tired, he says. It’s just the magic wearing thin. It’s just something that can be fixed, bargained for, stolen from fate if necessary.

He doesn’t understand that this isn't a fight.

It’s a folding.

And you know—God, you know—that he will never let it go quietly. That if you dared to whisper the truth into the space between your breaths, he would turn the sky to ash trying to change it. He would rip every witch apart by the seams. He would sacrifice cities for just a few more mornings with you blinking up at him like sunlight hasn’t abandoned the world yet.

But you don’t say it.

You smile through the pain and let him dream, because his hope is the only thing more unbearable than your truth.

He doesn’t want to believe you’re dying.

So you let him pretend you’re not.

And when he crushes flowers into tea and brings you tinctures that taste of metal and magic, when he sits beside you with bloodstained fingers and says, “This one swore it will work,” you nod and sip it like it’s salvation.

You don’t tell him about the weight in your chest.

Or the way the air has started to feel too thick, like breathing is something your body is beginning to forget.

You hold his hand and say thank you.

You let him believe you’ll stay.

Because you love him. Because you’re selfish, too. Because if he stops hoping—if he lets go—then so will you.

And you’re not ready for goodbye.

Not yet.

༊*·˚

But the nights grow colder, and the silence between you stretches thinner—like a thread pulled taut, straining under the weight of everything left unsaid.

Klaus stays close, the way he always does, but you can feel the tremor in his hands when they find yours, the fragile hope bracing against the creeping dread. He brushes your hair back, voice low and ragged when he finally breaks the silence, “Tell me where it hurts.”

You want to reach out, to give him the exact shape of your pain—how it coils in your lungs, how it drags your limbs down like sinking stone, how it dulls your mind until even the simplest breath feels like a battle.

But the words catch in your throat. You clutch his hand harder instead, nails digging into his skin, and whisper, “Everywhere.” Because it’s true. The ache is everywhere—rooted deep inside, like a vine strangling the last light in you.

Klaus doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours in a fragile promise that seems almost too fragile to hold. “I’ll find a way,” he says, voice thick with desperate hope. “I swear—there’s always a way.”

You want to believe him. You want to believe there’s a war he can win, a spell he can break, a way to tear this shadow from your veins.

But you know better.

The truth is a slow poison, settling like dust on the edges of your heart. You are folding, bending, fading—and no amount of love, no matter how fierce, can stop the tide.

So you close your eyes and let the tears fall quietly, because sometimes love is the weight you carry while falling apart. Sometimes, it’s the softest lullaby you have left in a world turning silent.

In the mornings, you wake tangled in his arms. The light is cruel and golden, washing over you like a reminder that time is not on your side.

He wakes too, always before you, and watches you with eyes full of devotion and a hint of terror. You feel his gaze like a shield—tender and unyielding—and it breaks your heart.

You reach for him then, desperate for a moment where you don’t have to be strong, where you don’t have to pretend.

“I’m here,” he says, voice steady, but you hear the cracks beneath his words.

Sometimes, in the stillness, when the world feels too heavy to bear, Klaus murmurs your name like a prayer, as if the sound alone could tether you to this life. You hear the longing woven in every syllable—like he’s afraid that if he stops saying it, you’ll disappear completely.

You want to tell him that you’re already gone, piece by piece, fading into something quieter, smaller, less and less the woman he once knew.

But instead, you squeeze his hand, your fingers trembling around his, and whisper back, “I’m here.”

And for a moment, it’s enough.

You lie together in the muted light of morning, tangled in the sheets and the unspoken grief that neither of you dares to name. His breath is warm on your skin, a tether you cling to when the cold tries to slip inside your bones.

He brushes his lips against your forehead, and you want to believe he can kiss the death away.

But the truth lies in the silence between your heartbeats—in the way your hands barely hold on, in the quiet surrender you both sense but neither admits.

In the evening, as the sun bleeds out beyond the horizon, you catch him staring at you with a pain so deep it twists your insides. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists as if trying to trap the breaking.

“I hate this,” he confesses, voice raw and barely audible. “I hate that I can’t fix you. That I can’t keep you safe.”

You want to reach for him, to tell him that loving him is the only thing that’s kept you holding on this long.

But all you can do is smile—a small, fragile curve that feels like goodbye.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For making you watch me fade.”

He shakes his head, voice thick with emotion. “Don’t you dare. You are everything to me.”

Your heart breaks at the words—the love, the desperation, the truth that neither of you can fully say aloud.

And when your eyes meet, you know there are no more goodbyes left to say.

Only the quiet promise that even as you slip away, some part of you will stay with him forever.

As your breath grows shallower, your hand in his grows colder.

You press your lips to his palm, a silent thank you for every moment, every heartbeat, every whispered name.

And in that last breath, barely a whisper against the coming night, you say what you never dared before:

“I hope you never forgive me—for leaving.”

༊*·˚

The room tilts.

Colors blur and edges bleed like watercolors left out in the rain.

Your knees buckle beneath you, a surrender you can no longer resist.

Klaus’s arms catch you—desperate, fierce—but even he cannot hold back the tide pulling you under.

Your body, once wild and alive, feels fragile as cracked glass, breaking into a thousand silent shards beneath his touch.

You gasp, a broken thing, caught between worlds—between the last flicker of light and the gathering shadows.

The air tastes sharp, bitter with the weight of goodbye.

You try to speak, but the words dissolve into a fragile breath.

Your fingers curl weakly around Klaus’s wrist, trembling with a love too vast to contain.

“Don’t leave me,” he pleads, voice breaking, raw with unspent grief.

But you are already slipping—slipping beyond the reach of words, beyond the grasp of time.

Your eyes find his, burning bright with a final, shattering tenderness.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper—barely a breath, a fragile thread of sound woven through the dark.

The silence that follows is infinite.

Your chest rises once, twice—then stills.

Klaus holds you as the world collapses around him—every heartbeat a jagged shard of loss.

His tears fall like rain, tracing the lines of your face he will never forget.

In this broken, sacred moment, love and death entwine—two sides of the same fragile coin.

You are gone, but the echo of your touch lingers—an ache in his soul, a wound that will never heal.

The last light fades from your eyes, and Klaus is left with nothing but the silence of what once was—and the cruel, endless ache of what can never be again.

༊*·˚

He cradles you like you’re made of glass—fragile, slipping through his fingers despite every desperate hold.

His breath catches, ragged and broken, as the unbearable truth carves itself into his chest.

“No,” he rasps, voice a cracked whisper, the single word tearing free like a shattered promise.

His hands tremble, fingers trembling over your still skin, memorizing every fragile line, every curve he thought eternal.

The world contracts around him—noise fades, light dims, and all that remains is the hollow echo of your absence.

He presses his forehead to yours, willing his heartbeat to beat yours back into life, but there is only silence—a cold, endless void.

His tears fall unchecked, hot and fierce, streaking down a face hardened by centuries, yet undone by this final, merciless moment.

“I can’t go another day choking back I love you,” he confesses, voice raw and trembling. “I feel it in my shoulders when I breathe. It’s a weight, a wound, a curse.”

He leans into the silence, clutching you close as if holding on could stop time itself.

The ache swells—a tidal wave of loss, guilt, and fury—because he loved you fiercely, enough to burn the world down, yet it was never enough to save you.

And now, all he can do is walk the ruins of what was, carrying the shattered pieces of you—and himself—into a darkness that feels as endless as the love he still holds.

He gathers the shattered pieces of his broken heart and weaves them into words meant to last beyond the silence, beyond the grave.

His voice is rough, thick with sorrow and fierce devotion, trembling like the last ember of a dying fire.

“I vowed to protect you. To keep you safe from the darkness that haunts this world.”

He cups her face gently, as if she might slip away with the faintest touch.

“But I failed you.”

His eyes burn with a storm of regret and unyielding love.

“I promise this—I will carry you in every breath I take, every shadow I chase, every dawn I curse for coming too late.”

He bows his head, voice dropping to a sacred whisper, “I will haunt the places where your laughter once lived. I will chase the ghosts of our moments until the stars burn out.”

His hand presses to his chest, heart aching with unbearable weight.

“You were my light in a world that tried to swallow me whole. And now, without you... I am lost.”

He swears, not to gods or fate, but to the memory of the woman who taught him what it means to love fiercely.

“I will never forget you. I will carry you in the silence, in the chaos, in the endless nights that stretch without end.”

His voice cracks, fierce and broken, “I will love you beyond this life, beyond any hell, beyond any god’s reach.”

He pulls her close once more, his breath hot against her skin.

“And I will wait for you. In every lifetime, every world, every impossible tomorrow.”

i will leave it at that. im sorry.... hope you guys can forgive me

[morganas-pendragons]

Grey | Celebrimbor

something very short to tide you over until i have enough energy to write the rest of the wedding fic (thinking about adding a jealousy drabble and a teasing drabble too...)

tag: @celebrimbormylove @erebusbabylon @ladyoflindon @pentaghasm @thesolarangel @thatlittlered

set during the siege.. will tie into the eventual 3 parter fic

***

A single chain falls from your neck as you kneel to examine Celebrimbor’s injuries. You yourself are injured, a wound inflicted to your arm and thigh that drips blood as you tend to the Elf you love who lays on the floor. No matter. Your pain is nothing compared to that of his own.

Celebrimbor is barely conscious, hanging on to the waking world with one hand on his face while the other ventures across his chest and thigh. He’s been much more oriented to the comfort of touch since meeting you. Craving it, seeking it out from you as a selfish man who takes from a giver.

You are more than happy to provide. It distracts him, which is exactly what you were intending to do.

“You aren’t supposed to have that yet,” He croaks. His throat feels as if he has swallowed sand. What one would not give for the mercy of water. “I had it planned…”

Planned?

You keep him talking to distract both yourself and Celebrimbor from the pain. Your leg aches beneath you, the fire from the wounds inflicted by Sauron’s blade burning down to the very bone as you grit your teeth and persevere.

“What? The ring? Mirdania gave it to me when He arrived. She said I needed to keep it safe. What was your elaborate plan, My Love?”

Celebrimbor confesses to you in the darkness and ruin of his forge that the ring around your neck is a symbol of the proposal he’d been planning for weeks prior to Sauron’s arrival. There had simply just not been time to follow through on it.

He is in the middle of explaining said proposal when he realizes all the arrows are out of his chest.

You grin. His handprint stands proud against your cheek, scarlet contrasting against your skin. He hates to stain such purity.

“I… I don’t… how did you do that?”

The circlet on your head grows warmly as your fingers drift downward to his chest.

“You always did say I was magical.” You muse softly.

Celebrimbor does not remember much after that. He remembers feeling quite warm, warm like the fires when winter falls in Eregion and remains curled on his chaise while sketching for his newest project. Warm like the first time he dared to kiss you in the rain, long and slow like the drawn out notes of a crescendo in the melody that is the song of your love drawn out across the years.

More importantly, he is no longer tormented. He is safe from Sauron. That is the most important part. Now you just have to flee from the city.

Sauron’s screams echo outside of the broken tower as you pull away, thankful that your abilities can at least grant him reprieve from the pain. You’re not sure you’re able to fully heal a wound inflicted by another Maiar.

The stone in your circlet dims.

“How do you… Oh.”

He raises a brow. Ah. There it is.

“What is it?” Celebrimbor asks.

Laughter breaks past your lips as you reach out to run your fingers through greying strands of hair streaked with blood. “I’m afraid I’ve gone and made you grey, love.” You say. “Not intentionally. Although, it does quite fit you. Perhaps to make you look even more distinguished then you did before.”

Celebrimbor holds your hand and spreads your fingers apart to kiss each individually before dipping his head to kiss your wrist. “I consider it a love letter,” He muses weakly. It is still painful to move. Painful to think. “I can tell others it was the first real confirmation that you loved me and I knew it to be true.”

You slowly raise him to his feet and brace your good arm around his waist. Celebrimbor, in turn, presses a kiss to your temple and slowly follows you out of the forge to what will be safety.

Shortly enough, you will both be far away from here, and the worst of it will have ended.

[ririchanva]

Hi! In Tales of Tirumushi and Feline Noire... what about Lila? What will happen when she arrives?

//Huh...I didn't think I'd miss writing this AU but here we are~ We back baby~ Let's goooooooo!

[Previously]

So let's get right to the Volpina episode? How would that play out exactly?

Well, it sorta plays out the same at first.

Izuku and Chloe were coming to school together when they both heard the buzz about a new student joining the school.

"Can you believe Lila knows Prince Ali~? She even flew in his private jet with him~"

"Jagged Stone wrote a song about her? Sounds rad~!"

"Lila know all of the Hollywood directors, she even promised me Steven de Spielgurb himself~"

Izuku wondered who was this Lila girl, and...was she famous or something?

Meanwhile Chloe was stomping her foot and huffing.

"Why would Jagged write a song about some nobody and not me?!"

And then, Izuku hears the most interesting rumour from Alya.

"She gave me an exclusive interview for the TealBlog! Cuz Tirumushi saved her life once~!"

Izuku frowned. He didn't remember rescuing a girl named Lila before. And he had a very good memory.

He may have worked as a superhero for a few months now with Feline Noire, but he made sure to note every citizien that was akumatized by the mysterious villain that called herself Queen Butterfly. He was on a mission to track them down after all.

Not to mention, he saw the interview and he definitely would remember someone that claims that they were 'close as thieves'

Marinette was absolutely crushed about the rumours spreading about The Ladybug Hero having a crush on Lila.

Izuku discovered a month ago that Marinette had developed a crush on Tirumushi the day after she was rescued by him from Stoneheart. Well, at least she doesn't have a crush on Kim anymore. But now it's awkward to know his childhood friend likes his alter-ego.

Chloe didn't give two shits about Lila.

Well...that lasted for ten seconds until she saw Lila approach Izuku.

"WHAT IS THAT SAUSAGE HAIRED WITCH DOING WITH MY IZU-SWEETIE?!"

Adrien, being amused by the hilarious notion that Izuku once again attracted another admirer, suggests to Chloe that they should follow them.

Izuku looks blush-y and awkward of being pulled by the hand towards the library by Lila Rossi, who asks sweetly if he could help her with some homework.

"WHERE ARE THEY GOING?! ADRIKINS! WE GOTTA STOP THEM!" - Chloe

And they weren't the only ones that followed after them sneakily.

Sabrina, Alix and Nathaniel also followed them, and behind them were Marinette, Alya and Nino (who was dragged against his will).

Now here's how things went differently.

With Adrien no longer being Chat Noir, he didn't have a chance to see the Grimoire being in his father's study that day. So...how would Volpina work this round?

Actually, Izuku takes various notes about Tirumushi and Feline Noire.

Alongside with many writings of other superheroes he knows, he uses this as reference for his future battles with Queen Butterfly and her Akumas, making his own sort of Grimoire thanks to the many talks with Tikki and what she knows about possible other Miraculous other than his. own and the Cat one.

Although Izuku always made sure that if his notebook is discovered, it doesn't reveal himself being Tirumushi.

So in short, it's just a fan boy making crack pot theories and such about heroes.

"Now we can get going on our history homework~ It's so much more fun doing it together, don't you think~?"

Lila notices Izuku's notebook.

"What's that?" Lila pointed the notebook of Izuku's sketches and scribbles and snatches it away from him, taking a look with slight interest in her eyes.

Izuku smiled sheepishly, rubbing the side of his neck, "Ah, I-I tend to write down about a lot of superheroes. I-I had a dream of being one one day, even if I don't have super powers..."

A lie. But hey, he's not supposed to tell anyone he's Tirumushi. He promised Tikki that he would keep his hero life seperate from his civilian one.

Lila grabbed his hand gently and squeezed, batting her eyes sweetly at him, "I loooove superheroes~"

Meanwhile, hidden behind some bookshelves, Chloe was steaming and looking red in the face with anger.

"How dare this yuppy hit on my Izuku! That's it, I'm going over there!"

Adrien held her back.

"Chloe, no!"

The two bumped into a trolley of books for a second and froze, thinking they were caught now. When it didn't seem like Lila nor Izuku noticed, they sighed in relief. However, they soon noticed other groups that were in hidden noticing them.

Nathaniel gave a wave at them secretly; he, Alix and Sabrina hidden in the upper part of the Library.

Nino also gave a salute from his hiding place under some tables with a scared Marinette and one annoyed Alya.

Adrien felt himself grin cheekily. Oh, things were about to get interesting.

Lila kept flipping through the pages until she gasped and saw a well detailed drawing of--

"Tirumushi?"

Izuku tried not to react, even though his heart leapt out of his chest thinking she found out his secret identity, but sighed in relief that it seems Lila was reading about him and Feline Noire.

"Oh, um, yeah..?"

"And you wrote about Feline Noire too..." Lila hummed, seeing how this page was detailed too, but there were a lot of drawings of the cat heroine and then grinned, "So? Got a soft spot for the Cat, huh?"

Izuku makes a face at this.

Not that he hated his partner, she was getting better after Stoneheart.

But there were times that she was just too full of herself and sometimes causes some mistakes.

Although to suggest that he might like-like Feline Noire?

He almost laughed.

But he coughed and turned his head away as to not be rude.

Lila, however, took this reaction as a yes.

"You know I actually happen to be very close friends with Feline Noire and Tirumushi~"

This caught everyone's attention.

Alya was murmuring excitedly how awesome Lila was and Nino was doing the same, meanwhile, Marinette whined how Lila was so lucky to be close to her superhero crush...thus going on a tirade on how Lila and Tirumushi was going to fall in love, get married, have a house, have three kids and a hamster named— 

Nathaniel looked indifferent, the same with Alix.

Sabrina felt a quiet brimming jealous, but kept it to herself.

Adrien just looked confused but Chloe...Oh Chloe was peeved.

"She's lying!"

Adrien looked to Chloe pointedly, "How do you know Lila is lying?"

"There is no way some nobody knows great heroes like Feline Noire and the Bug!" Chloe huffed while shaking her head, "What would she know? Oooh, I'm going to smack her back to reality!"

"Can you actually prove that she doesn't really know Tirumushi and Feline Noire?" Adrien asked tiredly.

Chloe paused, remembering she's not supposed to reveal her secret life as a hero, because she promised the Bug that she wouldn't.

Izuku, on the other, narrowed his eyes for a second before he smiled.

"Really now?"

Lila nodded, not noticing the look of suspicion in Izuku's eyes, and she continued on happily.

"We could chat about, if you want~? But not here though~ Why don't we meet at the park after school and I'll tell you everything~?"

Izuku didn't want to entertain a liar, and was even about to decline, but then blinked when he heard a noise and a squeak. He snapped his head towards the sound and saw a trolley of books sliding to the other side of the room, and tilted his head.

Was someone here?

He didn't even notice that he knocked over his books when he stood at the sound, that included his hero notebook.

"So? The Park?"

Izuku blinked as he heard Lila's voice and turned to her, then smiled weakly. Welp, maybe he could talk to her gently about how she doesn't have to lie to make friends and that she could be true to herself and make friends a different way.

And it could be away from the school where she wouldn't be embarrassed to be called out.

"...Sure."

Chloe gasped against Adrien's hand, growling as the male blond with her was holding her back from attacking and staying hidden under the desk. They even witnessed how Lila's boot stepped gently on Izuku's notebook and pushed it behind her sneakily.

"Grrr that witch!" Chloe snapped once they saw Izuku leave after Lila had picked up his stuff and handed his bag back, and Lila taking the notebook secretly as she left while reading through it with a smirk, "She stole Izuku's notebook!"

"...I will admit, that is pretty bad." Adrien whistled, before he saw Marinette, Alya, Nino, Nathaniel, Alix and Sabrina come out of their hiding spots, "So you guys saw that too, right?"

"Absolutely!" Marinette huffed, "We gotta talk to Izuku before he meets up with Lila in the park! He has to know that she's a total thief!"

"AND A LIAR!" Chloe yelled while waving her hands up and down, almost jumping around in anger, "How dare she lie of knowing famous people! Especially heroes like the Bug and Feline Noire!"

Alya folded her arms and tilted her head, "A good reporter always verifies her sources. Can you--"

"Trust me, I've already talked with her about this, and let's just say Chloe ain't listening," Adrien raised a hand up to the journalist with a sigh but then frowned, "But Marinette is right. Izuku has to know Lila stole his notebook."

And so, they approach Izuku and told him about Lila.

Izuku sighs.

"Oh I know. Which is why I'm going to talk to her about that after school and how she doesn't have to lie to make friends."

This surprises everyone, and they wondered how they know she's lying.

"A simple internet search could verify her claims if they were true or not. Not to mention, she just came from Italy. Never been to Paris before in her life. How in the world would she be close to Tirumushi and Feline Noire since the two just debuted?"

Alya felt embarrassed of this, and Chloe felt herself vindicated.

Eventually school ends and Izuku meets Lila in the park.

And Chloe was the only one that followed after them.

The others decided that if Izuku is going to talk to Lila in private, then they should respect that and wish Izuku luck.

Chloe, on the other hand, wasn't about to miss this in case Lila tries and pulls something.

Plagg grins, eating his cheese while Chloe sneakily follows after Lila walking out of the school.

"Man, kid. This is the most entertaining thing I've ever gotten to be apart of~"

"Quiet, cat-rat! I need to concentrate!"

She used her phone's camera as a sort of binoculars as she zoomed towards Lila sitting herself down on a park bench and pulling out some sort of necklace. A fox necklace.

"What...?"

Lila places the necklace on, admiring it before she spotted Izuku and greets him.

"DID ROSSI JUST THROW IZU-SWEETIE'S NOTEBOOK?! WHAT A BRAT!"

Chloe seethes as she continues to watch.

Izuku took a breath before he looked to Lila with a look, "So, you know Tirumushi and Feline Noire, for real?"

Lila noded as she twirled the pendant around her neck shyly, but soon made a grab for his hands, "Not only did they save my life, we've become very close friends. Because, we have something very special in common~ It's...what I wanted to tell you about..."

Izuku quirked a brow, watching her fiddle with the necklace once more and blinked. Was that...?

He remembered Tikki speaking of others like her and Plagg, the Kwami of the Cat Miraclous, and she lamented on how she missed them and it had been hundreds of years since she's last seen them.

And so, he doodled and wrote some theories he had about some of the Miraculous with Tikki's stories in mind, and he knew he has seen this pendant before...

"I'm a descendant of a Vixen super-heroine myself, Volpina..."

"Volpina?"

Izuku murmured with confusion and Chloe hissed this with narrowed eyes.

Izuku's eyes widened for a moment, as if having a revalation, before reaching to his bag to pull out his notebook, "Holy woah! I think I had written a few things about—"

Lila saw this and immediately grabbed for his hands once more to prevent him from digging into his bag and smiled tightly.

"I bet she would be someone that you've written about~ She's one of the most important superheroes. More powerful and celebrated than both Tirumushi and Feline Noire combined. Between you and me? They don't even make the top 10!"

Chloe growled at this. She really was about to lose it.

"My grandma gave me this necklace~"

As Lila was showing her pendant to Izuku, Plagg whistled while impressed.

"She's good. Real good."

And that was the last straw from Chloe.

"I'll show HER who's more powerful and celebrated. And we can't lose Izu-Sweetie! Time to transform! PLAGG, CLAWS OUT!"

Izuku observed the so called Miraculous for a moment.

While it did look like the genuine article, Izuku could tell it was fake.

He even looked into his bag just in case, and the hidden away Tikki shook her head.

Before Izuku could kindly tell Lila that he knows that she's lying, Feline Noire appeared.

"Well hey Lilo, or Lala or whatever your name is, the so called best friend of mine~! How's it going? Long time no see~ I saw your interview in Cesaire's little blog. AWESOME job~"

Izuku is surprised seeing his partner here, and even winced seeing Lila paling in panic.

Feline Noire asserts her dominance.

"OH SURE~! I remember our instant connection when me and MY partner saved your life~ AND we've been REALLY good friends ever since. PRACTICALLY BFFS~! Oh~? Wait a minute~! What's this now? I can't recall when I saved your life, Rossi.?...Oh wait, that's right, NEVER! AND WE'RE NOT FRIENDS EITHER!!!! Miss Show-Off here was pathetically trying to impress YOU and everyone around her because she's a loser that wants to be someone. And she's no descendant of a superhero, she's more of a super liar~"

Izuku mentally face-palmed at Feline Noire's humiliating way of calling Lila out, and he felt bad when he saw Lila genuinely crying.

Before Izuku could say anything, Lila ran off.

"That was...sorta mean?"

Feline Noire huffs with a "I hate lies about me and my partner!" and pole-vaults away.

Tikki pops out once it's just her and Izuku.

"Wow, Feline Noire seems to be wound up about Lila. Almost seemed like she's jealous."

"I highly doubt that, Tikki."

The two eventually get back to school and Izuku manages to find his friends and explain what happened.

That was when the 'meteorite' incident happens.

Transforming into Tirumushi, the Ladybug hero calls a Code Red and meets up with Feline Noire to try and stop the astroid almost making it's way to the city.

That was, until Volpina appeared.

"I am Volpina~ The only superhero Paris needs~!"

With the crowd cheering for the fox heroine, Tirumushi's eyes narrow for a moment in suspicion. It felt too coincidental that a super-heroine named Volpina just magically shows up in time and stops an astroid with Star and Stripes like abilities.

'Wasn't the Fox Miraculous all about illusions? I remember Tikki saying that...'

Feline Noire scoffed, "I could've done better~"

Tirumushi smiled wryly at her, but the two then jumped back when Volpina landed in front of them.

"Hey guys! Glad you dropped in~! I need a hand. C'mon!"

She started running off, confusing both Ladybug and Cat miraculous holders for a second. But they soon ended up catching up to her. The trio soon found themselves hiding behind some chimeys and gasped.

"I don't believe it..." Feline Noire breathed out, blinking, "It's Queen Butterfly in the flesh?!"

Izuku frowned.

There was no way that the super villainess would be out in the open like this.

Volpina suggests that they should take Queen Butterfly down now.

Feline Noire doesn't take kindly to being bossed around.

Suddenly, Queen Butterfly disappears.

"HEY! She's getting away!"

"OH NO YOU DON'T! MY PARTNER AND I ARE TAKING HER DOWN!"

Tirumushi wanted to chase after the both of them, but decided to leave that for later.

"Lucky Charm."

Meanwhile, Feline Noire chases after Queen Butterfly around Paris, until she suddenly vanishes into thin air.

"What...?"

Feline Noire notices she stepped on a blinking target and Volpina appears with a bunch of missles and rockets pointed at her.

"I wouldn't move an inch if I were you, furball~"

Volpina smiles as she stares Feline Noire down with a smirk.

"Don't worry, Feline Noire~ I don't want to be your friend. But at least NOW you won't be able to say we don't know each other~!"

"...Oh great, it's the lying sausage hair." -Feline Noire

Yeah, that line ticked Volpina off for sure.

"Surrender your Miraculous now, you don't deserve to be a hero!" - Volpina

Tirumushi comes swinging by, using his yo-yo to swipe all the illusions away.

"Illusions, lies. That's your real power, eh?"

He hold up his Lucky Charm, which happens to be a shiny popsicle wrapper.

Uses it to blind Volpina, distracting her from making another illusion.

Feline Noire takes this chance to attack, cataclysm'ing Volpina's necklace.

"Woah! Hey! Careful! How'd you know that was even the akumatized object?!"

"I didn't...but you could always use the Miraculous spell to place things back to normal anyways~"

Tirumushi ends up smacking Feline Noire at the back of her head.

Soon, they capture Volpina and Tirumushi de-akumatizes her while placing everything back to normal.

"MIRACULOUS TIRUMUSHI~!"

Once Lila is back to normal, Tirumushi checks on her.

"You okay, Miss?"

Let's just say Lila, for the first time in her life, felt her heart beat faster than usual. Hearts in her eyes and cheeks pink.

Feline Noire notices. Oh no...

"You saved my life~ My hero~"

Tirumushi yelps when he feels arms around his neck and pulled into a squeezing hug, face red to match his suit and eyes wide with shock.

"W-well, I suppose now you can say that I've saved your life for real?"

Lila felt herself flush and move back for a moment with embarrassment, "Y-You heard about that?"

Tirumushi nodded, "I saw what you said on the Tealblog. And while I don't really like people lying about me...I'm gonna assume that you're new around here and wanted to make friends by showing that you are connected and have some sort of dreamy lifestyle to gain popularity?"

Lila frowned, huffing, "O-Okay yeah, I lied. What? You gonna lecture me now? Feeling sorry for me and call me trash and a loser?"

"Well, no? I think you're just feeling lonely." Tirumushi hummed as he took her hand and squeezed, "I was gonna say that people are gonna like you if you be yourself—"

"You're unbelievable, you know that?!"

Tirumushi blinked when his partner started with a pissed off expression, perplexed on why she was acting this way. Even Lila jumped in surprise at the heroine before the cat heroine went on.

"Prancing around pretending to be a hero and being fake about your whole life. Yeah, you're pretty lonely, alright. Lonely and pathetic!"

Lila growled, fired up now, "If anyone's a fake, it's you! You don't deserve to be a hero! And you don't have to worry about ME pretending to be your friend anymore because I...I HATE YOU, FELINE NOIRE!"

Feline Noire gave a sharp grin, almost feral, "Feelings mutual, super-liar~"

"Feline, that's enough!" Tirumushi argued but then saw the angry tears from Lila, "You're gonna create another akuma again if you keep this up! I'm taking her home and don't follow me."

Picking Lila up in his arms, he soon jumped down the building they were on and left a gobsmacked Feline Noire. Honestly, he was surprised how hostile his partner was being.

One step forward and ten steps back with her...

Once he brought Lila nearby Collège Françoise Dupont, Lila then asks why he puts up with a partner like Feline Noire.

"Well, I know she's rough around the edges, but she has her moments sometimes. She just needs someone that could balance her out. A friend that can guide her to a good path...

Lila hummed with a thoughtful look, before she then gave a sweet smile, "Well either way, you are totally better than her. You're so nice and cute."

"Hold on, Lila. I still want to make sure that something like this doesn't happen again," Tirumushi said while placing his hands onto his hips and looked at her sternly, "For one, no more lies. While I get trying to fit in, there are other ways to do that."

"You're absolutely right, Tirumushi. I promise to never lie again~"

Lila also asks Tirumushi to make a video with her as a souvenir and proof that she knows him and that he rescued her.

And yes, she sorta snuck a kiss on the cheek on him before running off happily and posting the video on her social media.

The next day school was hectic with everyone surrounding Lila and asking about her time with the famous superheroes of Paris.

"Tirumushi is very heroic and honestly sweet with me~...And, Feline Noire, on the other hand...?"

Lila went on a slandering spree against the Cat Heroine, even sparking the rumour of Feline Noire being jealous of Lila for being close to the cat hero's partner.

Izuku shakes his head.

'Well, not like I can force her to stop lying.'

He's not mad. Just disappointed.

Speaking of his partner, he hasn't contacted her since he yelled at her, and he started feeling guilty of going off like that. He should talk to her in their next patrol together.

Meanwhile, Chloe was tearing Lila a new one every single time she hears the lies Lila spouts, and Adrien had to always be around his blonde childhood friend from committing murder.

Tags: @jasmine-the-fox , @candiiee, @gachadarklightoficial, @lakama77 @molteninferno

(if you wished to be tagged in the next one, please reply below~)

BONUS CONTENT~! (There are two at the end)

::Bonus Scene One::

"You know, with those kinds of notes, I think it's time that you met the Guardian~"

Izuku blinked as he turned his head to Tikki, stopping his writing on the latest akuma of the day, "The Guardian? Do you mean the one that is holding the Miracle Box that has your Kwami friends?"

"Yes. The very person that brought me to you and brought Plagg to whoever Feline Noire is~" Tikki chirped, flying happily towards her holder and nuzzling against his freckled cheek.

Izuku looked thoughtful, and then smiled, "Okay then~! Let's go meet this Guardian. I have a lot of questions to ask him anyways!"

Tikki soon guides Izuku to the outskirts of Paris, ending up in some sort of run down apartment building. There, he soon steps into a room where an old man sat quietly and with a knowing smile.

"Hello, Tirumushi. I believe we have a lot to talk about."

"...yes. Yes, we do."

::Bonus Scene Two::

"Ahhh, my dear Miss Rossi~ How did you first day of school go~?"

"Everything went according to your predictions, Sir. I managed to get close to the Izuku Midoriya boy you told me about and I also was able to get close to one of the heroes you were eying on...but Feline Noire is a little difficult to get along with. She has a nasty attitude and not worth the time of day. At least for now, I have one of those heroes trust me a bit and will keep working on gaining more of it."

"Good. Keep up with your mission there. Don't forget your other missions as well."

"Don't worry Sir, already doing the other two missions now~"

Lila sighed as she turned off the video call, moving the wig she was wearing then dumping it to the side. She fixed the short pixie cut that she had, making sure it was nicely messy then removing her green contact lenses. Placing the hazel brown contacts on, she fixed up a smile before making another call. And of course, making sure the green screen behind her was set up perfectly.

The video call then revealed a surprised looking boy with his brown haired tied back along with a red bandana plus some shades on top of his head and grey blue eyes.

"Cerise? I thought you said you were busy settling down in New York?"

Cerise smiled and waved at the camera with a soft French accent, "Bonjour, Rody~! Yes, I've just settled down in my new apartment, but I wanted to call and check up on you. How are you and your siblings?"

"They're fine. They miss you though. Speaking of, w-when will you be coming back to Otheon?"

"Hopefully in a few months after I settle the whole thing with my mother getting her special treatment for her hearing impairment~" Cerise pouted, trying to sniff and look sad as Rody stared at her in sympathy, "Anyways, I'm sorry that I have to cut the call short, but I did want to see you and that I miss you guys there~"

"Miss you too, Cer. Call me again when you're free!"

She ended the call after waving goodbye, her smile dropping as she soon wrote something in the journal next to her.

Huffing, she soon changed her looks once more, settling to have a pale make up with a black wig and placing blue contact lenses now. She soon placed some glasses on then changed the green screen background again before she made another call. She waited for a moment until the screen revealed a blonde haired girl with glasses and blue eyes.

"Iris! It's good to see you, it's been a while! How are you doing in Japan?"

Iris smiled once more as she then spoke in an Otheon accent and spoke calm and low toned, "Greetings, Melissa. I'm doing very well! How is Uncle David doing? I'm sorry to hear he's not feeling well~"

As Melissa talked along with some worried sighs, Iris was secretly writing down notes and nodding her head with a sweet smile while listening, but inside her mind she had to laugh. These mission were just too easy. She hopes she made her Boss proud.

Operation Alliance is a go.

[queen-scribbles]

Above and Beyond

(filled the forehead kiss properly with Emiri as requested, but Ves also got 👀 about it, soooo pre-relationship but definite Feelings Are There Ves/Kurt. Somewhere around Close Calls or Assumptions on the timeline, 626 words) ---

Vesper yelped as the needle pricked her finger, instinctively yanking her hand away to jam the wounded digit in her mouth. She glared at the mending project responsible for her trouble.

"You alright there, Green Blood?" Kurt asked, looking up from where he sat on the ground next to her log seat.

"Mm," Vesper mumbled around her finger, though she could taste coppery traces. "Just frustrated. I should be able to manage a simple stitch job; Enlightened knows I did enough embroidery to have practice wielding a needle." She withdrew her finger, examined the pinprick of blood near the tip. "I'm all fumble fingers tonight."

It had been a long day, maybe she was just tired....

"But it never was you favorite, as I understand things," Kurt said with a chuckle, setting aside his whetstone and the blade he'd been sharpening. "You were just moving from embroidery to swordplay and firearms when I started. But to hear your mother tell, you were losin' focus long before then."

"She did always hope I would settle on more... demure hobbies," Vesper agreed with a sign. "Even if she never pushed. And it is a fine skill. I'd much rather collect or sketch real flowers than embroider decorative ones, though." She looked down at the shirt balled in her lap. "You'd think I could handle mending a half-inch tear..."

"Let me see?" He extended a hand.

"You sew?" she blurted, even as she slid the project--needle, thread, and all--off her lap and down to his. She sucked her still-stinging finger as she watched him.

"Nothin' fancy." He barely sounded defensive, examining the rip she'd attempted to mend. "Just enough for basic repairs. After all, it's cheaper to mend your clothes than buy new ones and" --he gave her a wry look-- "not everyone pays as well as your uncle."

She hummed and inclined her head in concession, wondering not for the first time what his life had been before landing at the D'Orsay palace, tasked with ensuring the prince's son and niece could adequately protect themselves. What had made him rough and gentle, blunt and careful. Given him his scars and kind, piercing eyes.

Vesper sucked her finger a moment longer as she watched, before playfully commenting, "You take over doing my mending, tongues will wag, Captain."

Kurt glanced around the campsite; all their companions either turned in for the night or absorbed in their own tasks. "I suppose we'll have to rely on discretion, then, Excellency." He cut the thread and handed back her shirt.

"Or I'll do my own and spare us both the risk." She examined the stitched, the fabric warm from his hands. Just as he'd said; practical and sturdy, nothing fancy or pretty to look at. "I appreciate knowing what you can do, though."

"'Course."

Impulsively, driven by gratitude, or the way the campfire highlighted his profile, or Enlightened only knew what, she leaned over and kissed his forehead.

Kurt flinched in surprise, coughed, and shot her a questioning look.

"Thank you," she said. Heat was creeping up her neck, but hopefully that wasn't obvious in the firelight. Too bold, Ves, she scolded herself. "I'm very glad to have you around."

True, in myriad senses of the words.

"Just doin' my job," he said, one hand idly reclaiming the whetstone.

"This isn't in your job description," Vesper whispered with a soft laugh, rustling the shirt.

Kurt studied her a moment, one corner of his mouth pulled faintly up. "Maybe I don't mind goin' above and beyond once in a while. For you." He pushed to his feet. "G'night, Green Blood."

"G'night, Kurt." She barely had the presence of mind to mumble it, fingers tight in the mended shirt as she watched him walk away.

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 10: Stable

something is sparking between aureia and sidurgu, and they can't seem to see it. but rielle can. sidurgu x female warrior of light (pre-relationship), mentions of aymeric x wol. set during stormblood patches, but after the lvl 60-70 drk quests. rated: teen 2086 words ao3 link

“…when I said you could accompany us back to Ishgard, I didn’t mean for it to become a godsdamned holiday.”

“Resting at an inn is not a holiday.”

“And this isn’t a sight-seeing trip!”

“It’s fine, Sid! It’s one night! Is there something wrong with one night?”

“It’s dangerous, that’s what. For her, for you, for me.”

“Dangerous from whom, exactly? The Empire’s been all but routed from Gyr Abania. Besides, I don’t think many in patrons would consider confronting two dark knights head-on, and those that could would be drunk out of their minds. Please tell me you’re not afraid of a drunkard.”

“That’s not—godsdammit, you can be a right bloody bonehead when you want to be, you know that, eh?”

Rielle sighs and leans forward in her saddle, patting Filo’s neck. The chocobo chirrups, his head tugging on the reins as he leans into her hand, enjoying the feel as she pets his shiny black feathers. The day has stretched on and on, the road getting longer with every step, Baelsar’s Wall shadowing the horizon and somehow never getting closer, the dusty heat growing intolerable in the Gyr Abanian haze.

If she were younger—or travelling alone, let’s be honest—she would have pelted Sidurgu with the oh-so-tempting “are we there yet?” question, but for now she holds her tongue. Though Sidurgu has dragged her from one end of Coerthas to the other, even trekking into Gridania on the rare occasion, this is the furthest from Ishgard she has ever been. Her rear and legs may ache from too many hours in the saddle, but even with Sidurgu and Aureia’s endless bickering, she can’t remember a time she was this happy on the road.

She doesn’t want it to end.

She’s being selfish, she knows. Like a little kid—an actual little kid, thank you very much—asking for another five minutes at their favourite park, or clinging onto a favourite toy that has long since fallen apart. Sidurgu wanted them to return on their own, without company. He didn’t say as much—not aloud—but she saw it in his eyes when tending to his wounds. If he wasn’t stuck leaning against a rock, moaning and groaning and complaining about her fussing over him, he would have taken her and stalked down the road the moment Aureia’s back was turned. So, she struck at the opportune moment, piping up before he could say or do anything, and pointedly asked her—“You’ll come back with us to Ishgard, won’t you?”

She didn’t answer right away. There was a crease in her brow, a downcast turn to her eyes, and in that moment Rielle feared she would say no. But then she brightened, a warm smile spreading across her face, and she said—“I suppose I must. I’m going the same way, after all.”

That was yesterday. They walked for a time, Filo puffing and panting beneath Sidurgu’s weight before it became too much for the chocobo. The poor thing was the runt of his flock—Aureia’s told her the story many times—incapable of carrying an Elezen cavalier let alone a massive Au Ra in full plate armour and with a greatsword to boot.

And so they camped early, finding a spot beneath a single sprawling tree. Leaving Sidurgu to make the fire—he insisted, it was the one thing he could manage without aggravating his wounds—Rielle and Aureia hurried down the slope to the little rippling stream. Rielle wasn’t much help; she splashed in the water, giggling and free, scaring away the fish Aureia tried her best to catch. A waste, maybe, but neither Aureia nor Sidurgu told her off for it. She was too busy enjoying wading in the stream herself, and he… well. Rielle is certain he was looking at her a different way. Or maybe the same way he always has. Or maybe…

They had the last of their rations that night, laughing and smiling around the fire. It did not feel like a rationed meal.

And now today. Aureia suggested she ride Filo instead, leaving her and Sidurgu to walk ahead. Rielle was thrilled—still is, even though she is hurting all over now. She has never properly ridden a chocobo before, and Filo is such a pretty bird. The hands at the Holy Stables call him mean and difficult—he has a legendary grudge against one of the Scions, the Hyur with the white hair Aureia makes weird faces when he’s mentioned—but Rielle thinks differently. Difficult, no. Misunderstood? Maybe.  

She knows what that’s like.

But now the sun is slowly sinking toward the red-brown peaks, and they really are going to have to find somewhere to stay or camp. They’re approaching a crossroads—literally. Up the hill and over the ridge, there’s a little inn with a wide stable for chocobos and warm, soothing lights in the windows. The perfect place for a trio of weary travellers.  

But of course Aureia and Sidurgu can’t seem to make up their minds.

“Happy to be a bonehead, then, if it means someone here has the voice of reason,” Aureia says.

Sidurgu snorts, but Rielle knows better. Even when his back is turned, she can hear him trying not to smile—and his tail is curling. Sometimes she wonders if it’s the same sort of thing as those girls in the Forgotten Knight when they twist their hair around their finger while making eyes at Gibrillont. He only does it around her. Maybe he doesn’t even know it.

No matter how testy their bickering gets, he likes it. He used to bicker with Fray, too.

“You know those are incompatible,” he mutters. “Bonehead. Voice of reason. Not exactly the same thing.”

“What can I say? I’m full of contradictions. A right paradox, maybe.”

“Bloody hells, you can say that again. Here I was thinking you had put aside your greatsword for good when you all but kidnapped us on this little hol…”

“Hm? What was that?”

“Never mind.”

“Oh, good. And here I thought you said holiday for a moment.”

He lets out a long sigh and passes a hand across his face. “Aureia…”

She flashes him a grin.

He glares at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Aureia, please. Don’t make me laugh. I’d rather not bleed through my bandages tonight.”

From their position several paces behind, Filo chirrups and throws a look over his shoulder, his dark, beady eyes staring at Rielle. She shrugs and pats his neck. “I know,” she whispers. “I think they’re both being boneheads. What do you think?”

Filo chirps again and shakes himself from side to side in fervent agreement.

“Yes, exactly.”

Aureia raises her arms, her hands brushing the hilt of her greatsword as she pulls her hair back and twists it into a knot. It’s different from the messy, uneven crop she sported when Rielle first met her, long enough to brush her shoulders. There’s a bit of red in it, too, which Rielle doesn’t remember. She didn’t have that when she first came to Ishgard.

“The inn is a good option, Sid,” she says. “Give Rielle a normal night for once instead of sleeping on the ground again.”

“I know that, I simply—”

He pauses, bowing his head to look at her. The difference in height between them would be quite funny, if only height wasn’t such a sore spot. Rielle huffs, making a face. Aureia may be half-Elezen, but she did not inherit their height. Is it a sore spot for her, too? Rielle hasn’t thought to ask her.  

“All right, out with it. Don’t think I don’t know you, Aureia, this isn’t about the inn or Rielle. You’re hanging onto something.”

“I… am I?”

“You don’t want to go back to Ishgard, do you.”

It isn’t a question. An accusation? Something else?

His voice has dropped low, not quite a whisper. Rielle rises a fraction out of the saddle and leans in, straining her ears to catch the conversation.

“Maybe. Yes. Perhaps.”

“Aur.” He rests a hand gently against her shoulder and their pace slows. Their boots scuff the road, a cloud of dirt puffing around their feet. “What’s going on?”

His voice is calm. Firm. Steady. The kind of voice he has after she has a bad nightmare, but not quite.  

“It’s nothing, it’s…” Aureia lets out a long, sad sigh. Rielle tugs sharply on the reigns and Filo hisses in protest, jerking to a stop some feet behind. “There’s someone I must meet with when I return.”

“I see.”

“And I would… rather not.”

A pause. “I suppose the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords and the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights is a difficult man to ignore.”

“He can be, yes. Especially when you’re…” She pauses again. “Fuck. Let’s not pretend I even know what we are anymore. He asked me to marry him and I couldn’t even say yes.”

“Would it be too much to say that I am glad of that?”

“Sid—”

“Damned if I even want to know what you are to him. And I know all too well—very well, in fact—that this is not my place and not my business, but I will say what must be said if no one else will. If you need to hear it. I do not like who you have become with him. I’m sure—Temple Knight aside—he is a pleasant man in his own right. And it would be unfair to accuse him of anything malignant, I know that is not his way. And I do believe you love him, or have loved him—”

“Sid…”

“Past or present, my point still stands. You have chased something with him. Something that has brought you joy, yes, but also great sorrow. From what I have seen, from what you have told me… I believe you must become someone else to remain with him. And I do not believe you will ever be happy becoming that person. If the pair of you were in different circumstances, if you were different people…”

“If he wasn’t the Lord Commander and I wasn’t the Warrior of Light?”

He meets her eyes, his horns casting a shadow across his face in the glare of the setting sun. “If he weren’t a politician and you weren’t the Alliance’s war hound.”

She inhales sharply. “You didn’t have to put it that way.”

“Someone bloody well should have. There are a dozen places you should be rather than wandering the Gyr Abanian wilderness with a surly dark knight and a teenaged girl. A dozen people who need you more than we do. So what other reason was there for all of this, Aureia? A soul crystal cracked? Or an excuse to run?”

A pause. “I don’t think I can talk about this now,” Aureia says quietly.

Sidurgu lets out a long breath. His hand slips from her shoulder. “I’m sorry, that was… harsher than I intended.”

“Don’t be. You were only saying what you thought. And what I’ve thought for some time. Sometimes I think you’re the only person who makes any damn sense.”

“Oh, so is that why you keep finding reasons to come and find me? You’ve long since outgrown the Forgotten Knight.”

Her hand brushes his. “That’s not the only reason.”

He smiles.

Rielle yelps and tips forward, clinging to the reigns.

Filo chirrups shrilly, wings spread wide as if to catch her. She clutches the reigns and pulls herself upright just in time, her cheeks flushing red as Aureia and Sidurgu turn around, both instinctively reaching for their weapons.

“Rielle!” he calls, releasing the hold on his greatsword’s grip. “Are you all right?”

She steadies herself. “Fine!”

“Don’t test the bird. I don’t want you getting thrown out of the saddle—”

“Don’t test your wounds, Sid, I don’t want them re-opening before tomorrow at the earliest if you can help it.” She smirks, proud of herself for the quip, and nudges Filo with her heels. He trots forward, giving the pair a smug look as he trots by. “Let’s go to that inn, shall we? If I deserve a bed for the night, then Filo deserves a stable, don’t you think?”

Sidurgu and Aureia exchange looks, both of them trying very hard not to laugh.

Grinning with triumph, Rielle tucks her hair behind her ears and leads them up the hill and down the path to the inn.  

[thatoneadhdseabunny]

Meet My OC! (Part Four)

For most of her outfits, she had Yellow as her main color, but I had tons of ideas for her, and lmk if you all want to see what these outfits looked like, I sketched a lot of ‘em, but for now, I'll just kind of describe what each one looked like.

PS: Some did change, some probably will change in the future :)

Pheonix Drop High S1/S2- Obviously, at school, she had her uniform, but she’d add little friendship bracelets to her wrist for each friend she made. (Though she didn’t give everyone the matching friendship bracelets until later, the first one to receive one being Aphmau.)

But outside of school, she tended to wear a brown oversized hoodie with black leggings. White headphones sat around her neck if they weren’t sitting atop her head. She wore white high tops, hand embroidered with little sunflowers on them. They weren’t good by any means, but they were handmade, and she loved them to death.🌻🌻🌻

Falcon Claw University- Her freshman year is rough, mentally and physically, so she just walks around in a black hoodie and some cut off shorts with rips in them. Her feet still clad in those sunflower shoes, though they don’t fit her anymore. You’d never guess she majored in fashion design.💛💛💛

Mystreet- A combination of her outfits for the last few years: The yellow hoodie from high school, though she usually perfers it unzipped now showing off a little sunflower motif on a white slightly cropped T-shirt. She always wears her cutoffs that somehow still fit from college, and will usually be seen in flip flops, and her nails are almost always painted a pretty green, so she can fidget when she needs to, and stop biting her nails like Aaron keeps telling her.

Love~Love Paradise- Kawaii~Chan insisted she pick a two piece. She should’ve listened to her gut. This season, she draws more attention to herself, in a pastel yellow halter Bikini with a white bottom skirt, also seen in flip flops. She’s also constantly wishing she could find a cover up. Although, she does tend to have Garroth’s arm around her shoulder… maybe that’ll warm her up.

Lover's Lane- It was a terrible choice on her part. She should’ve gone with KC and Katelyn. But she’s never been known for being smart. So as she sits, hiding in her room, trying to find a new pair of shoes, to match her of the shoulder yellow sweater and the white skirt that she tends to wear. Her Sunflower ones have been out of commission for a while now. Maybe she should get some new shoes at Mall Day?

Emerald Secret- Wears jeans with one of Garroth’s old sweaters and a white scarf, though said scarf doesn’t stay white for much longer.

Starlight- She finds a blue slightly cropped halter top to wear over her black bikini and she tends to pair it with a pair of dark blue denim shorts and she totally stole her flip flops from Melissa (don’t tell her though.)

When Angel's Fall- She wears Garroth’s Jacket from high school. He gave it to her two years back when she’d come over for a Frozen marathon, and she wears it whenever she’s stressed. She wears it over a pair of white shorts and a black tank top. She misses the good old days when she didn’t have to worry about how durable her outfit was.

[New!]

One Last Time- She has one of Garroth’s old T-shirts, or even jackets on at all times. With everyone still healing from when Angel’s fall, I don’t know what she’s supposed since [Redacted] would change everything for her.

{Side Rant- Tbh. I have yet to put any thought into this one, because season 7 is actually coming? And I'm excited about this, because (FINALLY !!!!!!!!!) I am a normal human being.]

[rosetintedgunman]

LIAM JACKSON

One thing I've always been transparent about is this: the Wilford that's on this blog wasn't supposed to exist in his timeline. William was supposed to die.

For the sake of good manners, I'm putting everything under a read-more.

-

Everything would play out as intended, until William and Abe first confront one another. It's tense, but Abe shoots first. He was aiming for the shoulder to try and disarm William. Knowing the soldier would be able to kill him instantly, he pulled the trigger too fast... and hit William in the neck instead.

William died almost instantly.

Celine wasn't supposed to be there. She was never meant to interrupt the confrontation and distract from the intended scenario. Her arrival meant that others were killed or gravely injured, while the one who was supposed to die survived.

But in this timeline...? William dies. There's another argument, but the Manor's influence has subsided.... And everyone else walks out the front door and into the safety of the external grounds. Alive. Safe. Traumatised, but they survived.

There's no Attorney stuck in the mirror. No Dark. No one driven mad from ten hours of mourning and watching death undo itself. Nothing. Just the missing corpse of the actor, and a dead soldier.

William's body is left alone while the others wait outside for the authorities. A brief investigation is undertaken to confirm what was said was true. But before the body can be taken away, it too vanishes.

The Actor sneaks out stage right in the stolen corpse.

As for William? Well... He was stuck alone in the Void. There's no looping hellscape here. No need for it. Instead, he's stuck in the same space as Mark's corpse. He can leave whenever he wants! Gosh, if only he had the magical skills to do that. But he doesn't! And he has to wait. For months. Until he absorbs enough of the Manor's energy to amplify his own abilities, ultimately claim and reshape the corpse, and push himself back into the world of the living.

His trust is gone. He paid that price to get out (I'll explain that properly for Dante another time). He's a soldier, completing his tasks on his own, getting revenge on those that wronged him - starting with setting the Manor on fire.

This... Is Liam.

He looks a little worse for wear. The bullet went into the side of his neck and out the other side. Though the entry and exit wounds are covered over now, the damage is done. The nerves related to the brachial plexus were damaged, essentially leaving his left arm paralysed and permanently drooped. However, he CAN move it, however wonky the movements might be, and this is solely through using his powers to manipulate his limb to bypass the use of the nerves. He won't tell anyone this unless he learns how to trust another again and let hkmself be vulnerable. Because of this, the only presence of a red glow is in the area from the left side of his neck to his left hand.

He also has no pupils visible. There's no reason for this. They're unharmed, but lacking them makes it harder to read his expression. If they do appear, they're simply black dots. His skin is pale grey, the eyes are essentially dark grey, and the pupils would be black, so there wouldn't be too much overlap there.

His scarf was taken off during the initial examination of the body and was removed from the site. His glasses, however, were dropped by mistake when he was burning the Manor.

The jacket is ripped. Some parts, like the left collar, were torn to try and lessen his pain when he first woke back up. The ends were pulled off when it got snagged. All medals have been ripped off, but he still wears the dog tags.

Liam spent a long time in the Void alone, and then longer after that on his own. Because of this, he doesn't talk a whole lot. If he does, it's to the point. His voice sounds a little hoarse from lack of use.

That's all I can think of for now, and I'm very tired. I'll leave you with this second sketch I quickly finished when I got home a little earlier.

Finally: why "Liam"?

Simply put, it's an alternate way to shorten the name "William", and it's one that no one used in life. People who knew him would be less likely to join the dots if they heard the name "Liam" in passing.

[symphonicsoul]

[ @kazeofthemagun is sketching away... ]

Stretched atop a pile of boxes in the corner of an empty storage room, the Windarian surveyed his territory. There was nobody else there, which pleased him greatly - he enjoyed his silence. An object slipped out from underneath his spacious cape - a notebook of yellowed paper, laid over a leg.

Kaze took out a pencil and began sketching. A picture clear from his memory. There was some form of irony with how precisely he recalled every inch of the sharp sword-creature, when the face of its master remained a blurry mess on the canvas of the life they used to share.

It was almost photographic, even if the rich, dark graphite smeared somewhat. It stained his fingers as he wiped on the page, creating shading. The likeness of the serpentine beast was striking; But then again, how could it not be, when he spent so many years dreaming of its blade skewering his heart?

The truth was one thing, the nightmares seared into his brain - another.

...Ah, and he was no longer alone, it seemed.

He shifted slightly to create space, should White Cloud wish to take a seat beside him on the makeshift summit. He did not hide what he drew, but he also would not speak of it unless prompted. It had been some time since art tugged at his spirit and he answered. In all honesty, it felt.. warm, an assurance that his hand could still create something, even if that something was as insignificant as a projection of old hauntings.

The Sword Dragon's snout was stained with blood - an inky blot of smudged graphite.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He's humming to himself as allows himself to float through the halls of the Comodeen compound. It's been a minute since he's been up. He's been far too tired to do anything and since his last glance at himself in the mirror he knows why. It's been hard to come to terms with but Cid knows now so he needs to explain this all to him in full.

Everything has been so ...quiet... lately. Everyone just leaves him alone and all he can bring himself to do most days is sleep. The curse is spreading faster as the rot infects. It's hard to come to terms with knowing his time is so short now. It was difficult before knowing that eventually his soul would give out but he can feel Death's cold breath lingering down the back of his neck every day and he's terrified of the day she will finally ask him to dance.

Even if he knows every beat and every step, that doesn't mean he wants to dance that pas de deux for eternity. That was not the eternity he imagined when he thought about it. He was supposed to keep going. He was supposed to stay by his side. He was supposed to keep his promise. He was supposed to do ... so much more than this... but he'd be gone before the year was out.

He couldn't keep lying to him about it and he needed to tell him - didn't he? How could he? He doesn't know. The man doesn't talk to him anyway. It's not like he owes him anything. So then, why does it feel like he does? Would it be another lecture? Of course it would be. Why is he even -

Jade is peering deep into one of the storage rooms knowing damn well the doctor he had sat out with the intention of finding wouldn't be there but the likelihood of a far more shadowy denizen residing in such a place so lonely was high. There is a sigh that escapes him as shoulders drop when he sees the man so focused on a task.

Was he ....drawing?

Ah.... he noticed.

He's making space.... and he wonders for a moment how he's supposed to state something like his extreme loneliness so plain to a man who never speaks.

"Ah Sorry." He sounds dropping his gaze to avoid eye contact. "I didn't mean to bother you. I was just ... looking for... Cid. He wanted to talk to me and he's not in his office. I'll - I'll leave you be. Excuse me."

He can't do it. Not now and perhaps with the way his clock was ticking ... not ever.

[sundaysstrawberrykombucha]

ONE NOTE! LET'S FUCKING GO!!! (this is a very long post)

Actually, you'll probably want to know about Belle as I continue the skunk HRT, she's going to show up a LOT. WARNING! This is probably going to be longer then the "do you like the color of the sky" post.

Okay! For those of you who don't know, THIS is Belle!

At least, my artistic rendition of her. please ignore the fifth finger, I've only just been getting back into drawing, so I'm a little rusty on things that I tend to omit

Annabelle Heights: She's an anthro, bi-pedal, striped skunk. She typically wears faded green cargo pants, and no shirt. She HATES shirts, but she also doesn't have anything to really "show off" and most of her torso is covered by a mantel that drops down to the top of her pants. she's two toned black and white, the white being on her belly and her stripes that start on her face and go all the way down her back, joining back at the tip of her tail. She is about 50% tail, as well. We've also, recently, realized that she has some lion influence as well, because her ears, muzzle, and teeth are very catlike, and the mantle of fur she sports around her neck and shoulders is very mane-like. She's was my first headmate, and quite possibly my best friend.

That all being said... We're not sure WHAT she is. I CREATED her. I actively made the decision that, fifteen years ago, I was tired of being alone and so I was going to make an "imaginary" friend, and had a character from a wannabe comic that I could use.

literally the oldest drawing of Belle that I have. probably one of, if not the, first. Belle... Exists. She manifests in the physical world around me. I can "see" her to an extent (the same way one could 'see' and apple they imagine on the table). To some limited degree I can hear her, feel her, interact with her. She is VERY bad at fronting, but is so strong in her own personality that when disruptive thoughts barred me from being able to communicate with my other alters, recently, she was STILL there. She has been through so many emotional problems and through all of my anxiety and doubt, always there to do her best to help me, tell me, things are going to be alright. She also reminds me she's not real, and uses the fact that she ISN'T real to do very not real stuff, like go through walls, levitate, teleport... You know... Things to keep me humble to the fact that she's still completely made up, and completely in my head.

again, at least fifteen years old. Many things have changed, she's lost the collar, and her stripes have changed. She *has* gotten a bit more curvy as well...

So... She's a tulpa? Maybe? Again, we're not sure, but compared to the other alters that have introduced themselves, she is completely unique in her origin, and roll she plays.

just a sketch page of old old Belles, I STILL can't get the forward facing look correct.

So some interesting facts about Belle.

1: She literally told me her name. Me and my mom were driving around one day, and as she was talking about our cat, and how she was named one thing, but Mom had started calling her "Belle," I legitimately heard a voice in the back of the car say "that's my name." I had to look in the back to make sure, but obviously she wasn't there.

2: She was only supposed to stick around until I got a girlfriend... Well, sorry girls, she's staying even after that now.

3: The moment we realized that she had achieved autonomous thinking and a full personality that I KNEW I wasn't in control of was when I was showering, and she made a joke that I laughed at... And then realized I didn't make the joke, she did.

4: Although bad at fronting, like our other alters, we did, once, wake up with Belle fronting. It was a weird situation where when we pushed ourself out of bed, and looked at the arm and hand doing that, we got dysphoric and confused that it wasn't covered in fur. That's something that I hadn't ever felt, and after some thought, we realized it was her that was at the front at the time.

Roy was supposed to be a character in a comic that was going to feature both him and Belle

So to call Belle and alter or even a headmate isn't exactly... Correct. That being said, I can still call myself a system because a few others HAVE introduced themselves to me, and they're the ones who actually act as alters. They have an easier time fronting, they live in our head, they all have their own look, but they can't actually manifest in the physical space like Belle can. It's a very weird situation. Belle, also, has been getting a LOT of "first-child-now-has-siblings" jealousy towards the others. Afraid of being forgotten, or even just so similar to the others. Wondering what her role actually is, and envy that others have been able to get me to do stuff that she has literally yelled at me to do, but hasn't had the ability to do so (again, bad at fronting, unlike the others). It's been a learning experience for both of us, since I'm honestly REALLY new on the whole "system" thing (literally, if we don't include Belle, the first alter actually introduced themself this year after a bad thing that happened with a friend.)

A much newer, and updated Belle that I drew while working at a register in retail. I have a TON of these pen drawings, and this was a VERY favorite pose of mine to draw.

Belle also has some envy on not being able to front like the others. For the last fifteen years, it was something that both of us didn't want her to do to help keep my head appraised of the fact that she wasn't real. That was the big thing that we both agreed on when I made her.

If I ever started thinking she was real, she'd remind me otherwise... And vice-versa.

So we haven't really thought of her fronting, and actually USING the body, instead we focused on how we could take her from the headspace and superimpose her into the real world. I wanted a friend that would stand next to me, not someone who could take control if I couldn't handle something...

At some point I switched from three stripes to two, which is much more skunk-like

I guess that leads to the point. WHY did I create Belle in the first place? And the answer is simple. I was incredibly lonely. I had just graduated high-school, and none of my school friends kept in contact with me. It was before I got into any social media (Facebook was still in its infancy, and I didn't like myspace). I had taken a third shift job, so I was awake through the night and slept through the day, and my job only had me working with three other people!

I literally interacted with NOBODY, and it BOTHERED me SO MUCH! I wanted someone, NEEDED someone. I WANTED SO MUCH for a friend to be there, for someone to talk to, someone who was awake with me. I wanted a friend. I didn't have any, and I was incredibly lonely.

So I did something that a lot of children do. What did it matter if it was childish, why couldn't I do the same thing?!? I created an imaginary friend. We're a little fuzzy on the details, but finding the old drawings makes it seem like I knew her name before I even created her, so there IS a argument that she is, in fact, an alter that was looking for a way to be seen... And boy did she find one!

I just thought this one was cute. Belle has always been a bit athletic and more on the physical side then I have.

I had made her to be a lot of things I wasn't. confident, cocky, ready for physical activity. A lot of things that I had when I was a child, but grew out of. She liked video games, but that's because I liked video games. She was the yin to my yang, a mash of things I wasn't to help fulfill the feeling of her being her own person.

A lot of those attributes have stuck around over the years.

She was also supposed to be slightly shorter then me, BUT SEEMS TO HAVE DECIDED THAT WASN'T FOR HER RECENTLY... It's fine... really... I'm good.

another old pic, this one featuring Roy again. My art has always felt flat to me, and only recently have I been wanting to improve on that.

In conclusion, I love her. She has been my best friend for fifteen years. To think that in five more years, she'll have been around for half my life, that's still a fact that we don't want to get used to.

This is so much more then I've admitted to anyone, it's not quite the easiest thing to bring up to a group of friends. "Oh yea, I have this friend... She's imaginary, but VERY MUCH her own person... She's right over there!" But... That's kind of how it is for me and her. She IS her own person, she has consistently made that fact known to us. She's absolutely unique in how she presents herself, and I do hope that the strength at which I'm able to perceive her only gets stronger.

If you got this far... Thanks. Thanks for reading all of that, and I hope you have a wonderful day. I DID need to put this out there so that I could use it to help answer any questions I get from my Skunk HRT thing I'm going to try to do. If anyone who has read this still has questions, feel free to ask. Otherwise, reader, take care and be safe, alright?

Roy giving Belle a piggy back ride, I really loved this pose for two people. This was about 15 years ago.

Boy what 15 years can do. I redrew it, this time with me instead of Roy. Belle is looking a bit crazed here, but hey, it's been a few years since she's had so much artistic attention, she wants to go a little gremlin mode right now.

Who wants a massive info dump on my headmate Belle? Including

1: old art and new art of her

2: massive walls of text

5: our history together

3: recent developments

4: other misc things I can't predict right now

Would anyone be interested?

[slashersgirlypop]

Grilled Cheese Chapter 13.

TW: NON-CON KISSING

(September 3rd, 1978)

            I groaned, rolling onto my side, away from the blinding ray of sunlight that shone on my eyes. My back ached from whatever the hell Michael laid me on. I knew we were no longer driving, but I didn’t know where we were.

I opened my eyes, sitting up and rubbing my neck. I was in a dirty, bare-walled room with stains on the carpet. There was a small, smashed window, the glass scattered on the ground beneath it. On the ground next to me was a shattered mirror, with bits of my reflection along the floor, a constellation of me. What was the white thing on my forehead?

I reached up and touching the side of my head where it was aching. My fingers brushed along gauze. Taking one of the pieces of glass, I investigated my reflection. There was gauze wrapped around my head clumsily, but with intent. There was a small dark stain on the side of my head, probably from where Michael smashed my head against my headboard. I gently lifted the gauze, grimacing at the wound. It didn’t look too deep, but it was a head wound so it seemed worse than it probably was.

Getting up, slightly wobbly, I made my way to the door on the other side of the room. I glanced back at the makeshift bed I was on. It seemed like a sleeping bag, well, my sleeping bag. Michael must have packed it. I noticed another sleeping bag, maybe a few feet away from mine. Maybe someone left it?

I slowly opened the door, stepping out into the next room. I think I was in some abandoned mobile home. It looked like someone was in a rush to leave, and whoever used to live here had problems. By that, I mean the various amounts of cheap beer bottles scattered along the hallway.

Stepping into the front room, I saw Michael. He was sitting on a broken sofa that was tilted on its side. 

“Hi,” I croaked out, my throat dry from lack of water.

“What time is it, Mikey?” He pointed to a clock leaning against the wall. 2:45.

“How long are we going to stay here, uh, wherever here is?” He didn’t respond, only returning his attention back to the sketch book he had in his lap.

“Okay…Do you still have whatever you wrapped my head in so I can maybe clean the wound?” I asked. He pointed to the bag on the floor.

Retrieving the first aid kit, I went to the bathroom and tried to find a reasonably clean spot on the messy and stained counter.

I hissed as I felt the alcohol sting my skin, gently cleaning the wound. I was surprised Michael had bandaged my head, although it was a sloppy job. It’s the thought that counts I suppose, though.

I gently applied fresh gauze, content with the job I did. I mean, it wasn’t nurse-level good, but when you are virtually alone most of your life, you learn how to treat a wound decently.

As I cleaned my wound on my head, I thought back on the strange and crazy turn of events that led to this moment. It’s been, what, four days since Michael has entered my life? He entered my home one night, demanded I prepare him food, choked me, spanked me, killed my assistant manager in my own fucking home, and then knocked me out and took me God knows where. To top it all off, despite my dizzy head, probably from the wound he gave me, I am relatively calm about the whole situation.

Shouldn’t I be screaming? Begging, pleading for my release? Saying I won’t tell a soul if he lets me go?

Why am I taking this whole situation so well?

“Mra?” I softly smiled as I finished the knot on the freshly applied gauze wrapped around my head, feeling Mrs. Petunia brush softly against my leg.

I guess having something that provides some sort of comfort does keep me more grounded and less likely to act irrationally. Okay, aside from my escape attempts which have ended with me being choked or spanked cruelly.

Exiting the bathroom, I walked back into the living room. Michael was in his same position, only moving to draw more to…whatever was on his sketchbook. Jesus, was that a picture of him stabbing some poor blonde girl?

“Um, so, what now?” He paused his drawing, slowly looking up at me.

“I mean, I’m surprised I’m taking this whole situation well right now, but what will happen from this point on? Stay here forever? Because if it is, I need some cleaning supplies because this looks like some, uh, drug…place,” I finished weakly, looking at the several grossly colored stains along the wall along with the cheap empty beer cans around the room. Why did it smell like…a skunky smell, I wanna say?

He said nothing, only nodded before drawing his attention back to his sketchbook. I sighed, crossing my arms. I jumped, feeling Mrs. Petunia begin to climb up my pant legs and then up my side, perching herself on my shoulders. She began to purr in my ear, content. I reached up and stroked her, my attention still on the silent masked killer who was using crayons to graphically depict the blood spilling out of whoever that poor lady was.

“Mikey, I’m going to be honest with you here. Why me? What’s so important about me that you couldn’t just, I don’t know, leave me at my house, at least tied up so I couldn’t escape to get help and you could get away?” He once again paused. He looked up at the wall, as if pondering his words, or something like that.

It’s really hard to tell what he’s thinking since he always has that damn rubber latex whatever on.

Finally, he flipped to a new page of his sketchbook and his hand flew across the page, writing something.

He got up once he was finished and made his way over to me. As he got closer, Mrs. Petunia grunted and hopped off my shoulder. Soon, he stood right in front of me, making me feeling immensely small and weak compared to his towering and built figure.

He handed me the paper, and I took it.

“Becuse you are m ine,” Is what was messily written on the paper.

“‘You are mine?’ Mikey, what does that even m-“ He grabbed the back of my throat and pulled me close, crouching slightly to my level. The nose of the mask briefly rubbed against mine before he pressed the fake lips against mine. Shock ran through my veins along with fear. It was over as soon as it started, and he walked back to his seat, plopping down on the sofa. It creaked under his form as I stood there frozen.

Well, this just got more complicated than I thought. Fuck.

~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~

WHAT IS UP MY BITCHES????? Yeah, things are now gonna move more into the Michael being his more bad side!!! I'm sorry it took so fuckin long to update. I've had a mental breakdown, got a new job being a waitress, been sick, and am slowly losing some of my best friends. Oh yeah, and I've officially entered the stage of having alllllll level 3000 courses at uni. so yeah. next chapter might be out next weekend. Fairwell, my fellow slasher sluts ;-3

[liquid-luck-00]

Where There Is Change

Last Name Wayne

@maribat-bdbwm

First *** Previous *** Next

Okay so I know I diverged from cannon, but I think you’ll all like this.

~~~~~~~~~~

The moment that Damian agreed, they left.

She immediately placed their phones and electronics into storage, so this game would be a little more fun.

Mari "chose" the first place that they teleported to was Paris. The irony was not lost on her.

The place that kicked her out was the first place that would open up to her. But then again most of the city adored Marinette they loved Lady Scarlet even more, but that wasn't general knowledge.

She and Damian know it is a matter of time before B figures they left the country, but hey. They mostly stuck to going between super cities in the U.S. before. But right now, it mostly was her showing him around the city the museums and then getting really inspired by the scenery.

If she was prepared with several different sketch books and pencils for both of them it was an added bonus.

She knows she subconsciously picked Paris and after a few hours it might be smart to jump again. So, she let Damian decide on a place where he wanted to go. He did warn her that if they were spotted, they need to leave immediately, but she didn’t really see a problem with it.

Because granted they’re both Wayne's, and Wayne's if you know them well enough, they will be able to hand your ass back to you on a silver platter smiling as if it was the greatest thing in the world.

So, they jumped again.

This time it was her turn to be awed by what they saw.

They were in a small alcove completely hidden; in the cave they were in the face of it was covered by bushes. But looking out she saw the mountains in the far distance it appeared to be a lake no it was larger maybe it was the ocean. Right below her was a lush courtyard filled with plant she's only seen and one other place, but the heat here was tremendous, and the sea that she could see was in the wrong direction. Apart from being far, far, far too close to where she originally thought they were.

She was going to lean forward a bit and completely break through the bushes that were covering them when a hand pulled her back. She looks back and sees her little brother holding onto her.

"We have to stay hidden Nettie, are above the League of Assassins." He whispered so quiet she could barely hear him about ten inches away, so she’s not taking this lightly.

She nodded, and they stayed there, silent. The only sound was of graphite on paper.

Then everything changed.

On instinct Marinette shot out her arm, a wooden imperial yo-yo appeared in her hand, with a quick flick of her wrist she stopped the projectile, lodging it within the wood. A quick glance at her brother and she opened up portal behind him and pushed him through without a word, closing it behind him.

She knows that it’s more dangerous if they find him here than her, so she stayed behind.

She removed the projectile and examined it, a blow dart likely with poison, seeing as a liquid was seeping into the wood of the yo-yo. She created a replica of the dart and stored the poisonous one and her yo-yo back in storage.

She took a quick breath and punctured her arm where the dart should have originally landed. And fell to the ground, slumped down.

She kept her face relaxed her body limp and she felt three, four, five separate sickly deathly auras around her. She kept her breathing at minimum, light, almost as if she was asleep. They picked her up and moved her. She realized immediately that she was being taken down the mountain, taken deeper into the League of Assassins.

Five assassins she can take them. But the one thing repeatedly crossing her mind was one phrase.

'How dare these assholes mess with her family! Her little brother! They are going to pay!'

Because she is a Wayne, and Wayne’s protect their own.

She was eventually dropped in a large room, from what she can tell, if the echoes were any indication to what she was thinking the size of the room could be. There were three more auras in this room, aside from the ones she passed to get here. What surprised her was she recognized all three.

Still acting unconscious, she heard a woman’s voice, Talia Al Ghul, speak. "What business do you have to bring this child here?" It was phrased as a question but seemed more like a snarl or demand than anything else.

"She was captured on the grounds. She’s an unknown." Was what was reported by one of the people in who had dragged her down here.

Then she heard a chuckle.

"She’s awake." That voice, she recognizes that voice. Her entire previous plan was now completely out the window. So, she lazily pushes herself up, pulling out the dart once she was on her feet.

"Damn, I thought that would last a little longer." She finally looked up and saw Damian's clone, Heretic, Talia, and Al Ghul. But something was wrong, it was bothering her. Al Ghul, he, he… he wasn’t Demon, he wasn’t her Demon anymore. All she recognized now is his voice, at least that’s what she told herself, nothing else was the same as a person she once knew. The question now is why. "I really shouldn’t have introduced you to the Order, if the result would have been this?" A smirk on her lips and now standing cocky in the middle of a room full of assassins, she is stalling. He is acting like he knows her, but his aura is indecipherable, familiar, but not.

"You should not have, but then I wouldn’t be here today, to thank you, would I? After all you allowed our family to find these pits." ‘Our Family’ she dove into her memories, but now that she needed them, they were far away and fuzzy, God damn it.

"Hmmm, I suppose not. Right now, I really wish I had turned you into a cat permanently. I found the correct spell, so I actually can now." This elicited yet another chuckle from Al Ghul which had everyone else in the room on edge.

"Really now I love to see it, after all I wasn’t able to experience it before you vanished." She quirked an eyebrow at this response, but she didn’t care about his mind games, she was stalling, trying to find out what caused this change. All her mind supplied were the plants outside. Demon wasn’t good with plants, but he was with animals, so how.

"Really you don’t wanna know why am actually here?" She asked, looking so innocent, one might believe that she was there merely an accident or coincidence.

She then turned towards Heretic, death in her blue eyes was all anyone could see, but she didn’t kill him. No, she couldn't bring herself to kill him. He may have killed her baby brother, but he is

Damian’s clone, but that clone was nothing but a poor imitation of her brother. With a snap of her fingers, he transformed into a statue of a panther, mouth opening for a roar. In all accounts looking intimidating, but there’s no way to be scared of a statue.

"That was for killing my little brother." She crossed her arms now glaring daggers towards Talia.

"I wasn’t aware you had a little brother, Lady Cheng." Demon never called her Lady Cheng, no to him she was Malak (Angel), but…

That was when the pieces fell into place. That’s why the older Damian looks like a cross between Demon and Bruce. That’s why Damian turned into a panther cub. Damian is Amir’s reincarnation, the true soul of the black cat. That means, in front of her stood Ra’s, Amir’s older twin brother. That’s why he could read the journal, he is a miraculous soul. And only miraculous souls know the language of miracles, without decades of studying the script. It’s ingrained in them but only accessible after coming in contact with old magic, miraculous magic.

"One, the name is Wayne. Two that’s because at the time that I met the both of you 600 years ago, I didn’t even know I had siblings. So, get this through your head, I don’t care that he is your son or your grandson. He is my little brother. Nothing will stop me from making sure my family is safe." Her voice stayed level, emotion flitted in and out of it, in such a way that it almost seemed inhuman. For more reasons than one, she just sensed one of the Lazarus Pits.

"Scarlet." She heard gasped by the woman next to Ra’s.

"Correct." She glared at them walking closer as she said so. "My name is Marinette Wayne, and you best remember to never mess with creation. I would have thought you would remember that little Lǎohǔ (Tiger)."

By her walk over a sword had appeared in each hand, which she was now holding up to Lǎohǔ‘s neck, while the second was held right at the base of Talia's spine, almost daring her to move. The threat hung in the air, and both knew she was capable of following through.

"Well, I do believe it’s best to catch up over some tea." Lǎohǔ offered, many would have taken his offer. Because if the Demon’s head offers it, it would be your funeral if you refused, but she wasn’t just anyone. "After all we haven’t seen each other, in nearly 600 years, now have we, much must’ve happened to you."

"Hmmm... not really you’d be surprised. By what has become of my life been since meeting you." She decided to put away her blades, for the time being. Seeing as she couldn’t leave without destroying the Pits. The only surviving consequence of the Miraculous wish, cast ages ago. Now time to come up with a plan.

---

"Are you sure about this Pigtails?" Plagg spoke up.

"Ancient magic like this calls for a price." She sighed.

"We know, Marinette, but your little brother." Tikki voiced.

"I'll do everything I can to keep all of them safe." She spoke resolutely.

"But can you live with this?" Tikki asked.

"I have to be able to. Besides I'm pretty sure he is your true kitten, Plagg." She reassured.

Tikki and Plagg united their powers, and were able to destroy the pit, and every other one on Earth. Then disappeared. She opened a gate knowing what is coming.

---

Somewhere in the league of Assassins was the Demon's head and his daughter, looking royally pissed as they watch a timer tick down. Seeing as Marinette decided to freeze them with venom, so she could destroy the Lazarus Pits.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[mochegato]

Jasonette Protection Program

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Marinette pulled her coat closer around her as she made her way from the bus stop to her apartment.  She had made the brilliant decision when she moved here not to get a car because… Gotham.  The likelihood that it would get damaged or destroyed in some kind of attack was ridiculously high.  The likelihood the bus would get blown up or taken over, while definitely still present, was significantly lower.

But today she was regretting that decision.  It meant she couldn’t isolate herself like she wanted to.  It meant she was exposed to anybody and everybody at the bus stop and on the bus and on the sidewalk and any one of them could have been the one to drug her.  She eyed the people around her as she walked.  Okay, maybe not the woman who looked like she was in her 90’s and could barely walk… and dropped her knitting out of her bag.

Marinette rushed over to her and paused right before reaching her. She twirled around and scanned the faces around her.  She could feel somebody watching her.  She could feel their eyes scrutinizing her every move.  She studied the shadows and the windows, but couldn’t find anyone watching her.  She frowned slightly and shook her head.  She was getting paranoid.  She was seeing and feeling things that weren’t there.  

She sighed and turned back to the woman, crouching down to help her put her knitting back in her bag.  The woman smiled in appreciation, which Marinette returned with a shaky one of her own.  She walked the remaining few feet to her apartment building and took a cautious look up and down the dark street before turning into it.  She made sure she heard the click of the door latching before continuing up the stairs, not that it would do anything.  Logically she knew that, but her anxiety still demanded it.

She kept her eyes on the stairwell as she made her way up to her apartment on the top floor, eyes hyper vigilant for any movement, her ears hyper sensitive to any sounds from the stairs.  She got to her floor and paused for a few moments waiting to see if any sounds or movement indicated someone behind her.  She let out a relieved sigh when there was no noise and turned to her apartment before letting out a muffled screech.

Jason jumped, dropping his phone he had been scrolling on, in his rush to hold up his hands in a placating motion.  “Just me.  It’s okay. It’s just me.”  He watched her for a few seconds.  She was starting to breathe hard, her eyes were boring into him. “Although I just realized you may not remember me.  So this was actually an incredibly stupid plan.”  He took a few steps away from her door, his hands still held up to let her know he wasn’t a threat.

Marinette continued to stare at him for a few more seconds, forcing her breathing to slow.  “You… you’re Tim’s brother, right?  You… you were…” she squinted at him, “you were in my bedroom?”

Jason grimaced and looked down to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yeah… that doesn’t make me sound too good, does it?”

She eyed him suspiciously.  “What are you doing here?”  

He perked up slightly and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing today.  It can hit a day or a few days later sometimes.  And I’m a security expert.  I consult on it for people and companies.  I wanted to offer to check your security for you so you’d feel safe, at least when you’re at home.”  He turned to her door and knocked on the doorframe.  “I can already tell that you need better locks.  I could have broken in easily, but I didn’t think you would appreciate finding me in your apartment.”

She raised an eyebrow at him but let out a quiet chuckle and looked away after a few seconds.  “You would be right.”  She looked back up at him and tentatively walked over closer to her door.  “But, I don’t think I can afford to hire you.”

Jason waved off her concern.  “I wouldn’t let you.  I’d charge Tim for it.  He can afford it and he’s worried enough that I’m actually kind of surprised he hasn’t contacted me already, but I suppose that has something to do with him not wanting you to meet me in the first place.”

Marinette quirked her lips to the side and studied him.  The longer she watched and talked to him the more memories came back and the clearer they became.  She was slowly starting to get bits and pieces of the night before, not enough to create a coherent picture, just incredibly short scenes, a word here, a smile there.  Regardless of what she could remember though, this was Tim’s brother and although Tim didn’t want them to meet, he trusted him, not that she would ever be allowed to say that out loud to either of them.  

She finally nodded and pulled out her keys.  “Well, I can at least offer you dinner while you’re here. If you’d like.”  She gave him a small smile as she passed him into the apartment taking off her coat and dropping her bag on the small dining room table.

Jason raised his eyebrows in surprise.  After the way she had reacted when she saw him, he honestly didn’t think she would talk to him let alone let him into her apartment.  He was starting to understand how she could have gotten drugged so easily if she was that trusting.  But then again, Tim had said they all were being careful. Her even more so than the others. So why was she so trusting now?  “I would never turn down free food,” he said slowly.

He closed the door behind him with a quick glance at the inside part of the lock, confirming his original suspicions.  Standard issue, not particularly secure.  He could have picked it in all of three minutes when he was only eight.  He didn’t have to lean down to study the doorknob to know it was in worse condition. One good kick and the door would be wide open.  He sighed. If anyone wanted to get into her apartment, it wouldn’t take them very much effort.

He turned back to the apartment, letting his frown morph into a smile.  Her apartment was cozy and lived in and very much her.  There were touches of her everywhere along with some touches that he wouldn’t have expected.  He shook his head at the condition of the apartment.  It wasn’t terribly messy but it also wouldn’t count as anything close to clean.  He could see why she and Tim got along so well.  Neither could clean up after themselves to save their lives.  

There were bits of fabric and half completed sewing projects scattered around along with random pages of scientific reports.  He raised an eyebrow at that.  Odd combination.  His eyes caught on men’s shoes by the door.  He scrunched his forehead in confusion.  If she lived with someone, where were they?  Where were they last night?  Why hadn’t Tim mentioned him?  “You live with someone?  A boyfriend?”

Marinette looked up from the refrigerator.  “No.  Well, yes, but no.  I live with my best friend,” she explained quickly, “but he’s visiting friends this week.”

Jason nodded.  That was good at least.  She wasn’t living alone.  There was someone else with her usually.  That makes it less likely someone could just break in and attack her.  He moved over to the window and sighed again, more deeply this time.  It was worse than the door.  “No curtains. You should probably get some, preferably lined ones.  This lock is ancient too.  It wouldn’t take much to jimmy it.  We’ll get you new locks for your windows and your door.”

Marinette looked at him wide eyed as she set a bunch of grapes and a jug of filtered water from the refrigerator on the counter.  She hadn’t been expecting the locks to be that bad.  She knew it wasn’t amazing, but then again, she hadn’t really been too concerned about being specifically targeted here.  Nobody really knew who she was, or rather used to be.  She was just an average citizen here.  

She stared at the window for a few seconds, her head cocking to the side and her eyes unfocusing as her mind wandered through the possibilities of what could have happened and what still could.  She was no longer safe, not even in her own home.  But then again, she never really had been had she?  She had just thought she was.  She thought she was safer after they’d defeated Hawkmoth, but she’d just traded one danger for another.

Jason watched as her face morphed from one expression to another, her eyes distant.  Her face clearly displaying each and every emotion she was going through, no matter how flitting.  Jason could guess where her head went.  When her eyes started shimmering, he opened his mouth to bring her out of it when her phone rang.  She jerked back violently, knocking over the jug of water.  

She cursed as she tried to stop the jug’s descent only to knock it further away, further spreading the water.  She gave a defeated groan and grabbed a towel from a nearby drawer to start sopping up the water.  Jason jumped to grab a few more towels to help.  It took a few minutes, but they were finally able to clean up the water with a minimum of damage to papers left on the counter.  Luckily, none of Marinette’s sketches were on the island anymore but Adrien was definitely going to have to reprint some of his papers for research.

Marinette gave Jason an appreciative smile and threw the papers in recycling and the towels in the sink.  She let out a deep frustrated sigh as she leaned against the counter.  After a few seconds, she ran her hands through her hair and laughed.  Jason frowned at the sound.  It was short and mirthless and sounded utterly wrong coming from her.  He could see her starting to spin but didn’t know her well enough to know how to help.  God, he really hadn’t thought this through.

Jason very slowly started reaching for her so she could see his hands coming.  Shen she didn’t shy away, he set a hand on her arm to ground her.  She looked up into his eyes, panicked eyes meeting concerned eyes. They both jumped when her phone started ringing again.  They both chuckled quietly at their reactions.  

“Sorry…” she started but was cut off by another ring.  She shook her head at herself.  She hadn’t even noticed the original call had dropped.  She checked the caller id and smiled at the phone. “Hey Tim.”  She paused to listen to him.  “No, I’m fine.  I just… I knocked something over and was cleaning it.  Sorry for scaring you.”

She gave Jason an apologetic smile as she listened to Tim.  “I’m doing okay, I guess.  I think I’m just jumpy… and getting paranoid.  I could have sworn someone was watching me walk home, but when I looked nobody was around or rather nobody was paying attention to me.” She missed the slight grimace Jason shot toward the floor.  “No, thank you though.  Actually, your brother is here already.”  She smiled at Jason again and put Tim on speaker.  

“…that so.  That’s very thoughtful of him,” Tim quipped in a clipped tone.

“Yeah, he’s checking my locks,” Marinette continued, seemingly oblivious to the tension in his voice, or attributing it to his concern.  “Apparently my door and window locks are pretty bad,” Marinette frowned at the thought.

“Uh huh.  Well it’s just so great that he came over then,” Tim gritted out.

Marinette did a double take when Jason’s phone dinged repeatedly with an extended series of text notifications.  She blinked at it a few times before looking questioningly at Jason. He rolled his eyes and turned his phone off.  He met her eyes with a shrug and a wink as he sat at her island.

“Tell him I say hi and remind him he has plans with Bruce soon,” Tim continued tightly.

Jason huffed.  “Tell him to tell B, I'm not going on patrol until Demon Spawn calms down.  And tell him I’m sending him the bill for this.”  He motioned vaguely around them.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Tim conceded easily before his voice turned harsh again, “And tell him…”

“You two do realize you can hear each other and you two both know you can hear each other and I know you can hear each other and I’m not an owl!” Marinette admonished them sharply.

The room was silent for a few seconds before Tim started chuckling.  “Sorry, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Harry.”  She nodded at the phone even though he couldn’t see her.

“Hey!  That makes me Ron?  What the fuck?” Jason objected raising up from his seat in offense.

“Oh come on, you’d look good with red hair,” Marinette teased him lightly.

“You better fucking not be Ron,” Tim growled.   “You’re more like Draco anyway,” he continued flippantly.

“Fuck you, Pretender,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, this is making me feel better,” Marinette sighed, leaning against the counter.

There was a guilty pause as the men took in her words.  “Sorry,” Jason finally spoke up after a while.

“What?”  Marinette gave him a curious look until realization set in.  “Oh!  No, I was serious.  You two remind me of my friends.  It feels comforting, normal.”

Tim waited a second before speaking up cautiously. “So… you’re okay for tonight?  You feel safe?”

Marinette smiled at the phone again.  “Yeah, Tim.  I’m okay.  Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course.  Let me know if that changes.  I’ll be over in three minutes flat,” he promised.

Marinette grinned mischievously.  “Do I get a free pizza if you take longer?”

Tim huffed out a laugh.  “Absolutely.”

“Sweet.  I might test it just for that,” she teased him.  “Night, Tim.”

“Night.  And tell Jason to turn his phone back on before I do it for him.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Still not an owl,” she singsonged before she hung up.  She looked over to Jason with a concerned smile. “Do you have to go?  It sounded like you already had plans?”

Jason waved her off and took the battery out of his phone before leaning against the counter near her.  “I have plenty of time.  Like I said, if I show up now De… Damian is going to attack me.” Marinette’s eyes widened in concern but Jason waved her off again.  “It’s fine. He isn’t as tough as he thinks he is. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me, but Bruce would yell at me for it and Dick would give me his disappointed in you lecture.  It’s better for everyone if I stay away for a few days.”  

He grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tim just doesn’t want me stealing his friend away with my superior looks and charm.”

Marinette scowled lightly at him.  “Tim is very handsome and charming,” she insisted defensively.

Jason shot her a devilish smile.  “But not as much as me, right?”

Marinette scoffed at him and rolled her eyes.  “You certainly seem to think so.”  She rinsed some grapes and set them in a bowl between the two of them. “But he’s the only reason you’re here right now.  If you weren’t Tim’s brother and we hadn’t met last night when you were fairly respectful of me in my… state…”

“Fairly!?” Jason squawked.

“I’d have called, well, not the cops, but Tim, to take care of you,” she continued over him.  She grabbed a grape and chewed on it while she watched him appraisingly as she leaned back against the counter opposite him.  “Do you make a habit of stealing his friends?”

Jason shrugged and grabbed a few grapes.  “No, we generally move in different…” he searched for a nice way to phrase it, “circles.”

She hummed in response.  “And yet here you are, willingly entering in a circle with one of his friends.” She eyed him pointedly.  She quickly broke their eye contact to look down and cross her arms over her chest protectively.  “Thank you for breaking into this particular circle to help me out. Last night spooked me more than I want to admit.”

“Did you want to talk about it?  Or pretend like it never happened.  I can help with either,” Jason offered.

Marinette stared at the grapes for a while without talking. Jason was certain she was about to start spiraling again when she spoke up quietly.  “I was keeping an eye on my drinks.  I only took my eyes off of them when I was around people I trusted and we weren’t exactly close to other people for someone to just slip something in.”  She frowned and looked at nothing in particular. She poured herself a glass of water and held the rim of the glass against her lips without drinking it as she remembered the night before.  “I don’t know which scares me more, that someone was that good to get it in with all of us there or…”

“That one of the people you trust might be responsible,” Jason finished for her after a few seconds of silence.  When she looked up to meet her eyes, she looked so shaken and uncertain, he wanted to pull her into a tight, reassuring hug, but after the night before, he wasn’t sure a virtual stranger’s embrace would be the most reassuring.  He settled for moving to lean against the counter next to her so their arms were almost touching, but she still had her personal space.

“Yeah,” she said wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her arms.  

“You think you were the intended victim?” he asked curiously.  He and Tim had already discussed the night and decided that she had to be, but he was curious what her thoughts were.  “You don’t think it was just opportunistic.  You think whoever was with targeting you.”

She shook her head and looked down, frowning at the floor.  She gripped her arms tighter.  “I don’t know.  I was never alone and I only drank with my friends at our own table away from other people.  I mean someone at the bar could have drugged it before it was brought over when the waitress brought drinks but…”

“How would they know who it would go to,” Jason finished again.  “Seems unlikely they’d risk the drug like that if they didn’t know who it would go to. If they didn’t have a plan to get the person out.”

Marinette looked up at him anxiously and nodded.  She studied him for a few more seconds before she shook herself out of her daze.  She looked up at him with a fake smile.  “So what are you feeling for dinner?  I can make some pasta.  I can do stir fry.  I can whip up a casserole.  What do you want?”

“I’ll be happy with whatever you feel like having tonight,” he assured her with a smile.

“I don’t… really… feel like eating,” she mumbled, looking away again. “This is more something for me to focus on instead of last night.”

Jason gave her a gentle smile and lowered himself to her level, trying to gain her attention.  “Look, I know you don’t know me but why don’t we order take out and we can watch a movie, or if you want to be alone, I can leave.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she answered quickly, instantly looking over to him with a desperate look in her eyes.

Jason nodded slowly and gave her a gentle smile.  He rested his hands lightly on her arms to reassure her he was there and not going anywhere unless she wanted him to.  “That’s understandable.  I wouldn’t want to be either.  Do you want me to call Tim over?  I know you probably feel safer with him and when he can’t be here in three minutes, you get a pizza.”

She gave him a wan smile.  “No, I trust you.  And I’m not really feeling pizza right now.”

Jason smiled back.  “I want to joke and say that’s a terrible decision, but now doesn’t seem like the best time.” She gave him a deadpan look that made his grin widen.  “I’ll save that for later,” he finished with a wink. His expression quickly turned serious as he watched her.  “You should eat though.  What kind of food do you want to try?  There’s a good Indian restaurant around the corner.”

She looked away.  “I don’t want to order out.  I don’t want food that I…”

Jason nodded and moved closer again.  “Yeah, that’s reasonable.  Let’s make something together, yeah?  I saw some eggs and milk in your refrigerator and there’s bread on the counter.  How do you feel about breakfast for dinner?  French toast sound good?  I think you call it Lost Bread?  And how do you feel about Clueless?”

“The movie?” she asked confused.

“Yeah, adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma.”

“Fan of Alicia Silverstone or Jane Austen?” she teased weakly.

“Both,” Jason answered with a wink.

Marinette snickered and nodded.  “That all sounds amazing.”  She moved away to start getting the pan and bowls out, watching him while he got the ingredients prepared.  “Thank you, Jason.  You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“No problem.  We’ll get things figured out so you can feel safe, or at least as safe as you can feel in Gotham,” he assured her, and himself.  They were going to find who drugged her and make her feel safe again.  Whoever it was messed with one of Tim’s friends, one of the few he really trusted, that means whoever it was messed with his family and nobody messed with their family.

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @aespades @demonicbusiness @read-fantasy-to-escape-reality @jayjayspixiepop

[insufferablelust]

Cockwarming Don Reid with his men in the next room

Warning : Cockwarming, mob boss! Spencer, Mean dom!spencer, mention of killing, degrading name calling, filthy.. so fucking filthy, exhibitionism, literally almost fucking in front of people, mention of sub space, d/s theme obviously, and yeah.. 18+ please.

MASTERLIST HERE.

“Princess, come here.” Spencer pat his lap with a burning gaze directed to the cute little thing sat ontop of his office couch like a queen. Work days usually means no playing around, for Y/N it’s one of those days where she’d usually spend at her apartment doing her tasks or paint something for the young don.

But on rare occasions such this, where all the workload of responsibilities upon responsibilities piled on his shoulder, he’d bring her in, he’d tell her to sit all pretty, and continue to study unless daddy calls and that’s exactly she has been doing for hours now, sketching the wooden figurine on his shelf with her legs up the table and her back rests against the couch. She looks prettier than usual he thought, not that his butterfly never look anything less than amazing but she just radiates that softness, that gentle and tender touch which he often depraved himself of— being in the mob especially as the leader, he has to be on the rough rugged edge all the time, he cannot be tender and soft but he can certainly have you as his own personal reminder that not all things in life is as bad as what he has seen.

Y/N, the darling butterfly happily obliged as she stood up after placing her sketchbook down the table and make her way to where he sits on the large chair— colored burgundy red. The soft knitted knee high socks that clad her feet anxiously drags her to the edge of his desk with her fingers fumbling on the hem of her flower dress, no matter where and when, or how and why— he always intimidates her in ways that seemed to flutter her insides with pure wanton yet desirable lust, all for him.

Encased in a black suit, he sat up straight as he holds her hips before placing her down atop his lap with her back against his front, his perfect little princess. “Dressed so prettily for daddy. Haven’t seen this one before pet, did you buy them just to impress me hm?” if it were any other man, talking to you like you owe them you would flip their asses off and beat them to pulp— but when he says it, demands it, caress your soul with it— you couldn’t refuse nor deny.. not that you would ever want to anyway because yes, yes you did buy them to impress him, to make him as weak as she is for him.

She nodded shyly with a small “yes daddy” before squirming gently ontop of his lap whilst Spencer caress her inner thigh— calloused rough fingers brushing up and down her god glowing skin, intensifying all the tension that builds inside of her. Her skin prickled with heat as he inches his sinful fingertips up up up creeping upon her clothed dripping wet cunt, causing her to mewl lowly in frustration, grinding her ass back against his growing crotch.

“Daddy has so many things today pet, so many fucking things to keep you happy, to buy dresses like this one.” He whispered onto your ear, his lips pressing against your temple with his curls gazes against your heating cheek as you nod and shut your eyes tight— feeling his knuckles graze right against your clothed aching swollen clit, making you buck up your hips as he laughs behind you, chest rumbling with triumph.

“Jesus petal, haven’t done anything and you’re soaking my pants already? are you always this needy? fucking hell.” He shook his head as he keep on laughing condescendingly, whilst you writhed and squirm on his lap, your face nudging against his neck. “Please d-daddy..” Oh how he loves your mewls, your sweet sweet moans just sent all the blood from his head rushing down toward his cock— making him all dizzy and dying to feel your clutching heat.

“Shh you want Morgan to hear you, is that it? want my men to hear your filthy moans, bunny?” His words sent tingles up your spine, through your bloodstream as his fingers skillfully tear your panties apart, with you gasping— eyes as glassy as ever and mind absolutely mush with tension and pleasure. “Daddy asked you a question.” He growled, before slapping your bare wet soaking cunt few times which you respond with loud cries and squirm on his lap.

“Sorry daddy! f— please i... oh mmh!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you feel his thumb grazing innocently to your little nub of pleasure numbing nerves, flicking his thumb up and down it focusing on the rhythm as he might as well play you like his favorite instrument. “All needy and you can’t even get a proper word out, such a mindless baby.” He scoffed before slapping right on your clit multiple times.

“Ah! Ah oh! daddy!” You screamed, having no care in the world if his men heard— you knew in the back of your mind that they heard and that alone sends a new surge of adrenaline throughout your body, leaving you pliant and in need for daddy— daddy’s cock, fingers, anything just anything. “Here’s what you’re going to do, pup. You’re going to keep daddy’s cock warm whilst i do my job, if you behave like a good little girl then i’ll let you cum, but if you decided to think with your cunt and move i swear to god i’ll edge you six fuckin ways to sunday, you hear me?” You felt him fumbling with his zipper as he took his cock out, with you whining— babbling ‘yes yes yes daddy’ against his skin, eyes all droopy and fucked with your neatly applied mascara drip down your cheeks.

“Up you go pet, slide daddy in.” You shakily stand, bunching the hem of your dress on your hips before you straddled his thigh and looks down to get ahold the base of his well endowed cock— pulsing with need and heat. “Fuck, go on.” He urged you as he grab ahold of your hips before you lined him up with your sopping wet entrance and sink down slowly— down his massive throbbing length that has you moaning, panting.

“You can do better than that slut”

Smack!

“N-no! daddy please help! please i— ungh you’re too big!” You shook your head as you tried and tried to take him, all of him but everytime you sink another inch— your body felt like it’s been penetrated into a whole new level as if it hadn’t this morning or the night before, “Fucking helpless baby, look at you, pathetic and needy.” He growled before thrusting up inside you at once, forcing his thick length to slip fully inside your pumping dripping heat causing you both to moan out.

“Oh! oh mmh daddy.. shit..” You felt him deep, deep deep inside you, the tip of him grazing against your spot oh so deliciously, whilst you pant and convulse against him, clutching his cock like a vice. “Perfect little cunt, such a perfect doll for me.”

—

You’re convinced that if god was real, at this moment god must hate you for existing, must hate you so much that the universe sent you this adonis of a man to torture and blur the line of sanity and lunacy for you, torment your pleasure in mockery and sarcasm of how he stayed calm with you perched on his godly lap, panting like a puppy in heat as his thick length penetrated your insides as if it belongs there— forcing every bit of your self control over the teetering edge. You’re loosing your mind, that you’re sure of.

It has been no longer than 30 minutes but your toes have curled and uncurled themselves for eternity, your walls grew slicker and slicker each time he ‘shift’ accidentally, as you mewl and bit the skin on his neck, by the last minute of the long 30– you were trembling in order to resist yourself not to move, for the last bit of your working mind still recognized how severe the punishment would be if you were to move, the don is not one to fuck around with— oops.

Just as he stretches his hand, the knock of the door sent you into a spiraling mess, looking up to Spencer with wide eyes— all glassy and doe as you shook your head, “Daddy, d-daddy n-no..” Shivers runs deep and thrumming lively on your bloodstream as you saw his devilish handsome smirk.

“Be good and quiet, pup.” He whispers

“N-no! no daddy please! i—“

“Come in.” The sound of his voice and door cracking open has you shutting your eyes as tight as you could, face buried on the crook of his neck as he grips onto your thigh. You took a peek at the tall standing figure on the middle of his office, recognizing so clearly that it’s in fact Hotch not only that Emily and Morgan were also present, fuck— you’re fucked as you clenched hard causing the don to hiss and slap your thigh.

“What did i tell you about behaving hm? are you going to behave or should i let them deliver your punishment for you little one?” He growled in your ear, making you let out a pitiful whimper, trying as best as you could to resist the need to look at your patrons and to stay still. “No please, i’ll behave.” you muttered meekly, panting at the raging burning release that has been coiling inside your body.

“No please what? you know better, minx.” He shook his head before grasping your neck with his palm as he take a look at your messy figure. “No daddy p-please..” you bat your eyelash at him as he went in to kiss your lips with a small ‘good girl’ before getting back to his business.

“What is it?” He muttered coldly, one hand on the whiskey glass that he took a sip off every once in awhile and the other secured tightly around your lower tummy— you knew what he’s doing, the game is clear, you knew he likes to feel how you can feel him inside of you, pressing against your sweet spot and your slick canal tried so hard not to clench at the thought.

“The shipment hasn’t arrived yet to midtown, it supposed to days ago but we just heard from Garcia that the Kingsley’s hadn’t even reached out to her in weeks.” Although confident, you could tell there’s a hint of fear and worrisome latched behind Hotch’s voice, one does not fuck with your dom, one does not absolutely delay the shipment of his drugs— no no those cannot do.

“Have you traced it back to them?” The voice that rumbled against your back was eerily calm and deeper, resisting every urge inside his body to lash out— you know that very well. His fingers tighten and tighten its hold onto the glass which you could clearly see his knuckles turning white, you just hope that the poor glass won’t break.

“Yes don, Walker and Alvez went to their base and it was empty, looks like they left in a hurry.” You could feel it before you even see it, heard it, the way his blood pumps just even faster before a lound cracking of the wood sent fear and adrenaline through everyone’s bloodstream, “I don’t fucking care how many, and who’re you going to kill, but i want that fucking shipment arrived to midtown by dawn or i’ll pluck their own eyes myself.” His voice somehow rise and fell deeper at the same time, rumbling deep inside his chest which send shivers on everyone’s spine as they nod with a small uniformed ‘yes don’ before heading out hurrily— no one questions him, no one dared to speak against him, even if they know they’ll have the bloods of people (though bad) on their hands by nightfall.

His threat lives like a venom that stuck on their throat as they pursued their mission— one don does not get his hand dirty let alone going round plucking some low life mob’s eyes— or the end result could be.. would be catastrophic. These Kingsleys have one hell of a problem heading their way.

and you.. you have one hell of a raging frustratingly mad Mob boss in your hand.

—

Y/N’s head couldn’t even process the whole thing before she screamed in absolute pain when he pulled out harshly and bent her over his desk, knocking his whiskey glass onto the floor, clattering with no care in a world. Your mind begs for you to soothe him, soothe his anger yet your cunt aches and throbs with the need to let him use you— take the anger out to you, and ruin you for eternity. You’re his, and you’re ready.

“Stay fucking still.” Spencer slapped your ass harshly, causing you to jump in the position, your legs curled up for a moment as he gripped your hair tightly and grasp your neck with his unoccupied hand, “You’re going to stay still and be a good cocksleeve for me, i’m going to use you like you’re my toy and i won’t stop unless you say your safeword, got it?” His breath fans over your heated skin as you shake and tremble, your mind fuzzy with needs and mush of pleasure— blurring your absolute senses and submitting yourself fully to the mercy of his hand— his cock.

“Use your words, dumb little slut.” He hissed, choking your neck even tighter, with much force and you cried out, “Yes! yes sir, use me, i.. i’m yours..” just as you muttered out, your walls involuntary clenching at the intrusion of his cock plunging deep deep deep inside of you in one go, making you scream out in absolute pleasure and pain.

Spencer might’ve seen red— but when he delves deep inside of your tight heat, he saw the absolute heaven on earth as he begins to thrust in and out of your cunt in a brutal space, knocking his desk toppers off, and making you mewls and screams.

“Fucking tight little cunt— mine huh? isn’t it fucking mine pup?” He slammed into you over and over again as his balls hit your clit in an antagonizing pleasure whilst you writhe below him, forcing your eyes to stay open with all the power in your body looses control. “Its— mmmh ngh fuck! it’s y-yours sir! yes yes yes!” Your moans filled the entire building but neither of you care as Spencer drove his cock home everytime he sinks inside your tight pussy.

“Being such a good whore, letting me use you as my personal fucktoy, just to let my anger out.” He laughs maniacally, pistoning his hips as you clench your walls tightly to elevate the pleasure for you both, causing the room to tremble as you moan and cries out loud, “ungh yes! yes yes your whore daddy— mmh fuck me!” You could feel all the drool drips down your lips as he fucked you stupid atop of his desk but neither of you care nor have the patience to even pay attention because in his mind— the messier the better.

“Won’t be able to walk for days, pet. Fucking cunt going to drool for me everytime you see all the marks i fucking left on you.” He growled, bringing his palm over your ass before giving it a smack over and over again as your body lunges forward trying to get away with how all the friction is causing you to went into over sensitivity. But being the mean dom that he is, Spencer laughs as he pulled you back towards him by your hips. “Where are you going, bunny?”

“Please p-please let me cum, sir... ah!” You arched your back perfectly when the tip of his finger move down down down to where your swollen sensitive clit was, rubbing quickly in a fast pace just to send you over the edge, testing you, daring the orgasm out of you. “Wanna cum petal? hm wanna make a mess on daddy’s cock?” He whispered, one hand continues to rub your clit as the other focuses on holding you against him whilst his hips drives up deep— so deep that the tip grazes against your cervix.

“mmhh ah uh uh uh!” Your eyes lolled back trying to find a cohorent sentence— anything you can say to him but no matter what you’re trying to say was rendered to sinful moans and cries instead as you were right on the brink, “You can do better than that, c’mon bunny, beg daddy to cum.” he stills for a second, pressing in deep as he slaps your cheeks not once but twice— bringing fresh tears flows from your eyes.

“I.. ungh please daddy please! let me cum! been so good for you, please— want you to fill me up too.. fill your baby up, daddy!” Your high pitched voice rang an alarm through the circuit of his lust and anger laced mind, you’re slipping into your space and you’re slipping fast with your eyes just glazes absolutely flying through the realm of pleasure sensitivity.

“Good girl butterfly, such a good fucking girl, wanna cum? c’mon cum..” He whispered, before thrusting his hips in and out slowly, feeling the bliss of your overly wet and tight cunt engulfing him— milking him to cum inside, “Cum for daddy, princess, that’s it.. ohh... that’s it baby, good girl.” You cried out silently as you cum hard around his cock, muscles clenching so tightly that you sent him to release himself inside of you, thick ropes of cum paints your inside as you both moan and tremble.

“My good girl, shh thats it— best cunt ever.. that’s it, so so good for me.” He whispered softly, backing down to where his chair was pushed aside, bringing you with him before sitting down. You groaned out a loud scratchy, “daddy..” As you feel his cock shifted deeper inside of you, your eyes closed as he holds you and calms you down.

“Shh shh princess, just stay here like this. such a good girl, gonna keep me warm while i wait for them aren’t you?”

Although your cunt practically ache and scream for you to not say yes, your love and lust filled mind fogged with utter desire— just nods whining an agreeable mumble— just for him.

This will be a long long day and even a longer night.