#but very happy i decided to give the novel another shot after at i decided to shelve it indefinitely back in 2022

[5eraphim]

[c-optimistic]

Hi there! Are you still open to 100 days of fic prompts? Wondering if you'd take a stab at Lena worrying that she and Kara are too different to be together romantically and Kara insisting that they complement each other

this is a very old prompt, from back before my relationship ended and i was trying to impress my ex with fic everyday, but i am trying to write more so here’s a little bit of angsty fluff for funsies

When she finally had the presence of mind to pull the knife wedged between her shoulder blades, the remnant of the shattered trust between herself and Kara, she’d come to an all-encompassing conclusion: there was no such thing as love.

There couldn’t be.

(Because if there was such a thing as ‘love,’ then she rather thinks Lex would’ve stayed sane, her mother would have treated the girl she raised as her own, her friends wouldn’t have left her, and Kara…Kara wouldn’t have lied.)

But as the months dragged on and forgiveness became less of a long shot and more of a question of when, her thoughts on love began to evolve. Now, Lena is a scientist. And so, after careful consideration and thorough research, she decides that the thing people call love is merely chemical reactions in her brain, associating Kara’s presence with feelings of happiness and safety. A drug, really. And like any drug, the best way to cut her dependence is to remove the drug from her life and consistently remind herself why the drug is so dangerous to her health.

(She had not reckoned for the fact that this particular drug can advocate on its own behalf, and is very much not on board with the notion of ‘quitting.’)

“I don’t really understand what you mean,” Kara says, standing in Lena’s living room in her skin tight blue suit, red cape hanging listlessly behind her, leaving very little of Kara’s curves to the imagination.

Lena has to physically shake her head, blinking furiously in annoyance at the chemicals in her brain.

“What’s so confusing?” she asks, a question she really wishes sounded angry and hurt, but comes out as confused as Kara looks. Because if she’s honest, she’s not sure she knows what she means either. Just that she can’t think with Kara so close.

“I said I love you,” Kara says, voice clear and unafraid, those three words ringing in Lena’s ears, momentarily making thoughts hard. “I said that it’s been a while since I worked my back to being friends with you. But that I want more.” She steps towards Lena, who takes several steps back, causing Kara to huff but stop. “I asked how you felt, and all you’ve done is list all the possible reasons we’re not good for each other. But that’s not an answer, Lena.”

“But listen,” Lena says, swallowing. “Have you considered that you love potstickers and I don’t?”

“I don’t really care, that just means more for me when we order in.”

Lena’s eyes narrow at the easy solution. “Okay. Fine. What about the fact that you don’t like my taste in novels?”

“Lena, I want to go out with you, not the trashy romance books you read. What does that have to do with anything?” Kara asks, clearly exasperated.

“Right, but those books give unrealistic expectations of love and romance and I—”

“—then I’ll read all your favorites and will show you love the way you want to be loved.”

Lena’s heart hammers away, and she makes the mistake of looking away briefly, trying to come up with another excuse, unsurprised when Kara is approaching her slowly—like she’s a spooked deer or a cat with trust issues—giving her ample time to move away or tell Kara off.

She does neither.

“Lena. I love you,” Kara says in barely a whisper, now only inches away from Lena. “Can you please tell me what this is all about?”

“Everyone I love and who was supposed to love me has let me down. And I…” She trails off, closes her eyes, and presses her forehead to Kara’s strong shoulder, gripping her wrists as tightly as she can. “And I don’t know if I’m broken and am unloveable or if love isn’t real and—it was hard enough after finding out you’re Supergirl. I can’t do it, I can’t lose you again. Not you too.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of Kara’s breathing intermingled with Lena’s struggle to avoid breaking down into sobs. Then, strong arms wrap around her and hold her tight, enveloping her in the scent of flowers and sunshine and warming her from head to toe.

And embarrassingly, Lena’s chemicals send a single thought through her brain: home.

“I know I let you down,” Kara says, a gentle hand shifting and then fingers threading through Lena’s hair. “And I can’t promise I’ll never let you down, because I’m not perfect. But I do promise you will never lose me. As long as you’ll have me, in whatever form that is, I’ll be right here. Okay?”

And there’s so much more to say, so much more to figure out. Lena desperately wants to say those three words back, wants to pull away just enough to kiss Kara hard enough that she can feel the way those chemicals in Lena’s brain have altered her being, wants to confess every single dark thought she’s had from the moment she found out Kara’s secret and all the lies she told.

But instead she lets out a watery laugh.

“But you have a preference in what form I’ll have you, right?” she asks, knowing the answer, knowing that her answer is the same, knowing maybe forgiveness alone isn’t enough yet for them to take that next step.

“Oh Rao, obviously I have a preference,” Kara whines as she pulls away, grinning when she catches Lena’s smile.

And Lena’s pretty sure that next step will come sooner than either of them think.

[clairedaring]

Hello!!

Hmm after watching ep 7, I’m not sure I want Kan and Thiu to end up together 😅😅 I can’t believe Kan severely injured then killed Boss so that Thiu doesn’t find out the truth about his mum. I’ve been empathetic towards Kan’s perspective about euthanasia but I feel killing Boss goes against his own view.

While I enjoyed the few sweet and domestic moments between Kan and Thiu, a relationship with a foundation of lies realistically won’t last. They’re both gonna be hurt, especially Thiu. I do hope Kan decides to tell Thiu the truth in ep 8 though. I didn’t read the novel and I’m wondering if Kan admitted the truth about Thiu’s mum to Thiu in the novel?

on a side note, I’ve been really impressed with JJ and Tor’s acting and have enjoyed their chemistry. I know this might be unlikely but I hope they pair up again in another series, preferably a rom-com so I don’t get stressed on a weekly basis 😂😂

hope you have a good day ahead! 💛

Hi nonnie (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Right!?!!??!??!1 I totally get you nonnie. I really hope you don't mind me spoiling the novel below the cut with you.

Soooo where we at in the series is very similar to where Kan and Wasan were at the end of Book 1, Kan is still hiding secrets from Wasan - Wasan finding out his mom wasn't 'killed' by the serial killer but he's ignoring that anyway to live his life blissfully with Kan -> leading to them being boyfriends but still having that huge wall of secrecy between them (both hiding things they know from each other) and Book 2 addresses that by having Kan faced legal consequences for some of his actions and there's a really dramatic arc where Wasan finds out about Kan euthanising his mom and Kan begging for his forgiveness.

The series has adjusted so much, taking some things from Book 2 but then not adapting some stuff. I really can't tell you if they'll be able to adapt that dramatic scene where Kan begs for Wasan's forgiveness because he's still hiding secrets from his boyfriend in this ep.

Your feeling of not wanting them to end up together is exactly correct because they shouldn't be together yet. How can they be happy together with all these lies between them ಥ_ಥ I think the novel did well in having them end up together but it's after many other events that the series has yet to covered and when they have undergone massive character development and mindset changes.

I too sincerely hope Kan tells Wasan everything in EP. 8. Like Mr. Doctor do you know that you have only have ONE episode left sirrrrrrr 😭

Yea I think it's unlikely that we'll meet Tor & JJ in another project soon since they're independent actors but I'm very glad they came to deliver this work because it's so rare to witness Thai series touching controversial topics, much less for it to be a primetime series with an excellent cast.

The writing for SMYM may not be perfect with obvious illogicalities or flaws here and there but the design of the characters and certain details have been almost immaculate and I must thank the strong cast for salvaging this script and keeping me absolutely hooked each week.

EDIT: because I completely forgot your OG question is about the ending of SMYM. I think One31 has had a streak with giving their OneD originals sad endings this year so I'm actually very mentally prepared for the ending of SMYM since it definitely can't be as bad as the two last ones I've seen (re: the leads dying from being executed or being shot dead) from One31. At most, Kan and Wasan will break up and you know what I'm also fine with that, serves Kan right for keep lying to man you wanna date.

[tellnotalespod]

TNT S1 E1 - Not For Long came out on 2nd May 2022, which means Tell No Tales turns two today!

(and if we're being honest, TNT being in the terrible twos explains a lot about how emotionally fraught it's been recently)

Going ahead with this show is the best decision I've ever made, and it changed my life for the better. I'm so incredibly grateful for this community for welcoming me in 💜

I got a little nostalgic and found an old voice note (from almost three years ago!) that's posted under the cut. I sent this to Michaela (one of our ghostie VAs) almost immediately after having the idea for the show. It's edited a lil to keep it down to a reasonable length, because much like Leo Quinn, I sure can Yap.

[Image ID: A whatsapp voice note sent by me, followed by another message by me that reads "oh I think I've decided the name of the main character is going to be Leo, bc hell if I'm going to do this completely self-serving project for no other reason than the enjoyment of creating it then I'm damn well gonna use the name I'd use if I ever decide to change to a more masc sounding name." The following messages sent by Michaela on 4 July 2021 are sent in quick succession, "omggggggggg yesssss" "I want to listen to thisss" "I am 100% happy to help" "I love this idea" "so much" "pls do it" /.End ID]

Note: audio quality changes around a lot because I was, I think, dyeing my hair at the time

Voice note transcript:

 I have a… an idea. And it might be really stupid and it will probably never come to anything. However, I'm really excited about it. So... hear me out (LAUGHS). My idea is, uh, I want to write a podcast about an ex-employee of a ghost hunting company, and the- the basis of the podcast is... I literally just had this like half baked thought like five minutes ago, so bear with me while I talk this through. This character works for a quite renowned institute, company, whatever, organization that hunts ghosts. Uh, they destroy the ghosts whenever they're called to it, but the main character is starting to get suspicious of the fact that some of the ghosts that they're called to don't necessarily seem violent, and some of them are completely harmless and they just want to exist and so they have been working on a recording system that can capture the voices of ghosts. And they start off as an assistant to like the head of this company, but they're already starting to feel complicit in what they're becoming kind of more and more aware is potentially a very evil operation. And it's gonna alternate between like their their notes and the recordings of interviews with ghosts that they are sent to hunt, but don't. They sit down and they get their life story instead and then either leave them be or try to help them move on peacefully or whatever. And there's gonna be a bit of a, like a, an overarching plot in that the organization that they work for is corrupt, but not in the way that they think. And I'm thinking the main character is trying to, like, capture enough evidence, basically, before they can quit this organization- t hat's, that's, that's their intention, is they want to make sure that this recording system is completely functional. They want to capture enough evidence of completely harmless ghosts. They want to have like a huge backlog of stuff to use against the head of this company, and to do that, to have access to ghosts and all of that kind of stuff, they have to continue working for it, which they hate, but that's the only way that they see themselves being able to achieve good in the long run. So, the first season is going to be them, like, trying to work on this project in secret while you get glimpses of the boss doing some, like, shady shit. And like... who's to say that I need to finish my novel this month anyway? You know?? But fuck it, this is... I'm really excited about this, so I'm gonna give it a shot.

[pragnificent]

Tagged by @tina-mairin-goldstein! Tagging whoever else wants to play.

1.How many fics do you have on AO3?

78.

2. What's your total word count on AO3?

934,933. Wow, maybe I can break a million this year....

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just HANNIBAL right now (and for like the last seven years or so). Been vaguely thinking about picking up a second but nothing has caught my interest strongly enough.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Attachment - 7,592

The Fisherman and the Beast from the Sea - 4,565

Sashimi - 2,807

Hungry Ghost - 1,585

Identically Different - 1,382 <- This is my best series and yall should give it a shot <3

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to, and I enjoy doing so, but sometimes the brainworms win and I don't get stuff done even when I really want to.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Breathless

I don't love this story, but "Hannibal is effectively braindead after the fall, but Will keeps caring for the body and feels that Hannibal is there with him, up until the body dies and Will turns himself in because there isn't any point anymore" probably counts as the most angsty? If you are in the market for a "Hannibal receives a brain injury and he, along with everyone else around him, has to cope with that" story Tina's For Remembrance (Holes in the Floor of the Mind) is a much better pick. And as I continue to think about it, Means of Influence has a pretty angsty ending.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my stories have slightly bittersweet but still mostly happy endings. Part of the thing about that is I think it's really hard to envision a situation where Will is like 100% Happy Happy, his own mind hates him too much and every little scrap of happiness needs to be fought for and then vigilantly guarded. But I put both him and Hannibal through so much that I always want them to be as close to content as they each can be.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have gotten two flavors of Fic Hate. 1.) People calling the five year old kid OC in ATTACHMENT slurs like "r*tard" and saying "he belongs in jail" and etc.

Every time Hannibal or Will fuck someone who isn't each other at least one person decides to Yell At Me.

I think I've gotten the old "you didn't tag for bottom Hannibal!!" nonsense once or twice too, but who hasn't?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

A little. I actually started Hannishark bc I was really intimidated by sex scenes and wanted to see if I could pull off a short monsterfucker story. I feel like I've gotten better at writing these but am generally more comfortable leaving them sparce on anatomical details and big on feelings/conversations.

10. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one?

I've got a WRONG TURN crossover series that I'm very proud of here: Bear Mountain Road AU. You don't need to have seen any of the movies to read it, or anything, the movies' premise of "a clan of inbred mountain cannibals waylays travelers" is really just an excuse to put Hannibal (and Will and D, as child members of the cannibal family) In Situations. If I counts as a cross over, I've got a universe swap between the novels and NBC HANNIBAL here: Shiloh

I also have a vague idea for a SAW / HANNIBAL crossover but I've been sitting on that for so long, who knows if it'll ever happen?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not so far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several times.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yep, a couple of times.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Hannigram and Reba/D (guys we need a fuckin ship name).

15. What are your writing strengths?

Character, emotions, dialogue.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sex scenes, pacing.

17. Thoughts writing dialogue in another language?

Fine by me, tho I only think I've done it one or twice.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

FARSCAPE.

19. Favorite fic you've written?

Identically Different AU !!!! This it the best thing I've ever written and probably the best thing I will ever write.

[yasemints-blog]

Poor Things: An Anti-Fairytale

“Poor Things is a fairy-tale-like movie set in a Victorian-esque setting. This made me wonder how much of the movie is inspired by the concepts of actual Victorian Era fairy-tales.

“Fairy-tale motifs enabled writers to enhance their heroines’ beauty, and above all to encode a patriarchal ideology: as in fairy tales, the conventional happy endings of mainstream literature demanded that the heroines be married and securely locked up in their homes.” (Laurence Talairach-Vielma “Moulding the Female Body in Victorian Fairy Tales and Sensation Novels”)

At the beginning of the movie it is clear that Godwin’s intentions are to keep Bella locked up and oblivious to the outside world by marrying her. However, she breaks free of these limitations and discovers the world, ending up a free and independent woman in the end. In this perspective, “Poor Things” resembles a reversed Victorian fairytale where the heroine starts out confined but is free and discovers the world later on unlike the fairy tales where the heroine embarks on an adventure later to lead a boring, standard life of a housewife.

I also think it’s an important element that Bella never gets married in the movie. When Bella decides to marry Max I started thinking that this would be the ‘happy ending’ of the movie, however, very cleverly this wedding is interrupted and she decides to discover the world a little more but after she escapes her stay with her father she decides not to give the marriage another shot.

“Such writers often profess to believe in the imagination, fairy tale, and liberated possibilities for children; yet they give in finally to explicit moral didacticism.” (Anita Moss, “Mothers, Monsters and Morals in Victorian Fairy Tales”)

Some other quotes to think about in relation to the movie:

“Zipes's exploration of the changes made to the tales convincingly brings to light how social pressures and norms, which may vary with time, weigh on fairy tales.”

“Moreover, such revised tales impose standards for sexual and social conduct that hinge on "inhibiting forms of socialization"

(Laurence Talairach-Vielma, “Beautiful Maidens, Hideous Suitors: Victorian Fairy Tales and the Process of Civilization”)

[twopoppies]

Hi! I don’t often come here to ask a question, however I’ve been around your lovely blog for a while and figured it’s a place full of amazing people and amazing writers so I might as well start here and give it a shot! So after years of writing purely fanfics, I don’t know what came over me, I decided to write a novel. I used to write a lot in my native language, mainly for writer competitions that I saw online or stuffs like that. Many people encouraged me to release things, I never did. Then I stopped writing and discovered 1D which well, obviously led to me writing fanfics, this time in English. I quickly got very comfortable writing in that language and started sharing my work which always was and still is a wonderful experience. I’ve been on a bit of a writer’s block for some time and thats when I decided, maybe I’ll give it a try and write a novel like I used to? I don’t know if it’ll ever make it anywhere, maybe it’ll just end up being another one of my works saved on my computer. I want to give it a try though and I would love to learn more about writing as I’m only an amateur after all. Whew, there it finally comes, sorry for the long backstory. I’m looking for a nice soul who is a native speaker and would like to be my beta reader. I think that would also help me stay motivated to write and I wouldn’t abandon it out of laziness after a few weeks. If somebody out here would be interested, I’ll be more than happy and grateful to get in touch! It definitely wouldn’t be anything major, please don’t feel pressured. I just want somebody to point out any mistakes I make, things that can be changed and well, be in general, my beta, perhaps sometimes help me edit some minor mistakes, share some advice, etc. Any details I’ll be more than happy to talk about in private messages so if you’re interested, please feel free to reach out in my DMs or write under this post, I can totally write to you first. Thank you so much for sharing this in advance Gina and maybe you or anyone who’s reading it knows someone who would like to help me! Have a lovely day, take care! 🩵

Hi, sweetheart. I'm so glad you're feeling inspired and are taking the leap to get back to writing! Have you checked the beta list linked in my bio? Those are all people who've volunteered to beta for fics. I'm not sure how they'll respond to doing it for original fiction, but it's worth a try.

Other than that... is there anyone out there who'd like to connect with @strawberryjamlover to beta for them?

[freedomfireflies]

Hi! I’ve been around your blog for a while and figured it’s a place full of amazing people and amazing writers so I might as well start here and give it a shot! So after years of writing purely fanfics, I don’t know what came over me, I decided to write a novel. I used to write a lot in my native language, mainly for writer competitions that I saw online or stuffs like that. Many people encouraged me to release things, I never did. Then I stopped writing and discovered 1D which well, obviously led to me writing fanfics, this time in English. I quickly got very comfortable writing in that language and started sharing my work which always was and still is a wonderful experience. I’ve been on a bit of a writer’s block for some time and thats when I decided, maybe I’ll give it a try and write a novel like I used to? I don’t know if it’ll ever make it anywhere, maybe it’ll just end up being another one of my works saved on my computer. I want to give it a try though and I would love to learn more about writing as I’m only an amateur after all. Whew, there it finally comes, sorry for the long backstory. I’m looking for a nice soul who is a native speaker and would like to be my beta. I think that would also help me stay motivated to write and I wouldn’t abandon it out of laziness after a few weeks. If somebody out here would be interested, I’ll be more than happy and grateful to get in touch! It definitely wouldn’t be anything major, please don’t feel pressured. I just want somebody to correct any mistakes I make, point out things that can be changed and well, be in general, my beta, edit some minor mistakes, share some advice, etc. Any details I’ll be more than happy to talk about in private messages so if you’re interested, please feel free to reach out in my DMs or write under this post, I can totally write to you first. Thank you so much for sharing this in advance and maybe you or anyone who’s reading it knows someone who would like to help me! Have a lovely day, mwah!

Hi love!! So proud of you for exploring something that brings you so much joy!!

Unfortunately, I don't quite have the time (or really the skill HAHAHA) to be an effective beta reader, but I hope those that are down maybe see this!! Writing is so fun but so hard, and I'm so proud of you for pursing this and wanting to get better!!!

Endless luck to you babe!! 💞 YOU CAN DO IT!!!

[thestaredown]

The Comic Verse Ending ....it was all written by  Jughead...maybe

Posed situation. Jug is writing as the last shot of the show in some capacity implying the whole show has been written by him. Not a theory that has been uncommon in these parts we’ve certainly seen it batted around though for the most part we all think its a huge cop out.

Lets take the posed situation again we come upon Jug writing one of these abominations( Betty is there in my version but hey choose your own destiny while you imagine it), as comics not books...and that is very important as it is the magic “a wizard did it” moment that will make things have reasons.

This is just a  take of the possible series of events that could have taken place to create all of these AUs if in fact we find out Jughead is behind it.

We should know I’m wordy by now...hope you enjoy this explanation for what could possibly be.

After the success of his first book ,which ends up being a fictionalized YA retelling of his and Betty's love story in high school, as per the show; Jug struggles to write as he has always drawn from the craziness of his life. (To give it nuance perhaps he’s still working on the more autobiographical version of the original novel but isn't ready to put himself out there like that. )

Regardless there is the somewhat dicey part where we aren't sure if anyone outside of Riverdale knows that the book is a fictionalized account of real events or not ( considering some more ...interesting events could have some legal consequences if not kept under wraps) however the town we are told went to shit cause of Hiram not cause Jug made them look bad in a  book, so lets say  as far as people know it’s not a true story.

This leaves a lot of interesting, shocking and downright outlandish content for Jug to have that can easily fold into his existing book universe. So he decides hey there's stuff I didn't add, but no one knows it’s real so lets make it a comic book extra.

It turns into a comic series based on his novel, however the novel is limited in that it has an open yet happy ending, danger gone and two people waiting on the future with a little epilogue and all. But the comic is popular and he is pressured into more ( and under a contract) but leaving Riverdale helped make life much less dramatic and he was at a loss so when he was pressured to write more, he ended up just coming up with the craziest stuff he could and they ate it up before he could say just kidding.

Being involved with life in general and attempting to write another novel to get out of the universe he created ( spend bulk of life trying to get out of Riverdale....end up in several different versions of Riverdale) because of this ghost writers were brought in, or rather secondary writers to create and continue working on the comic universe. Jughead,adamant that he needed to fix the comic universe from the death spiral he put it in ( pretending to loose Betty and succumbing to his fathers failings was tough for him to parse out on paper) didn't want the help.

So they tell him....don’t you know how comics work? Think of your part as world one. We can keep cranking out some comics with these characters in different universes. Diversify the story, give some fantasy elements, shake things up by rearranging couples. Drop the readers into a new version of the world. Create something bigger than it started that can last for a long time in 5 different ways if we play it right. DC and Marvel do it all the time.

To a Jughead who is relatively young, having pressure put on him to produce and a life outside of his writing....financial security seemed worth loosening the reigns. It’s your property, it’s like they are playing with dolls, they can tell you the story and you can contribute.

He thinks the stories are insane and hates how shallow the characters seem out of their original story.He asks them to give the female lead a new look so she looks a little less like the person shes based on.

 In the end he contributes sarcasm and it’s taken seriously.

When asked how do we segue into a new universe while the old one is on pause he posits...Just blow it all up and then have the main character announce it, make it obvious its a new universe. Thus Narrator Jughead is born.

He writes the special anniversary issue himself and hopes he brought some levity to people waiting on the original story to continue.

But the new worlds multiply. There’s an straight cult AU, there's superheros, witches, all tenuously “connected” but also their own entities.

But he’s done, it needs to end. He got out of Riverdale once and needs to do it again so he begins finishing the original story, then he picks up and finishes the others for good measure. It’s imperfect, the new universes feel like incomplete puzzles and the usage of characters baffles him but saying anything about characterization that implies real life counterparts is a big no, though plenty have figured that the characters looks are inspired, enough changes were made that real life has not been dragged into this.

But its over the chapter can close Frankenstein's monster defeated and they can continue to live happily ever after.

As we close Jughead lets his harshest editor take a look.

Betty says time to finally create some original characters, I think we’re all tired of looking at ourselves.

....He never sells movie/tv rights.

Find the beginnings of a more detailed fic version of this here.

[baileytomkinsviscomblog]

'Intersections' planning & experimentation - Pt. 2

I initially spent a while researching deeper into the comic book design process. I watched several YouTube videos that helped improve my knowledge about the different stages involved in creating a comic keyword as well as tips for saving time. Talking to Utku was also helpful. One crucial piece of information that I learned was the importance of planning, spending a while on concept art, developing character designs, and then creating thumbnails. Thumbnails are small sketches created by comic book or graphic design artists that give them the ability to get a basic overview of the narrative as well as the final format and structure that they'll be following. All that's needed after this step is filling in the final lines and details.

Another aspect of the comic book story format that I learned about is the establishing shot. Similar to in movies and TV, the establishing shot in comics is often used at the start of a scene to give the reader some helpful visual context about the story, for example, the setting in which the scene is taking place. These establishing shot panels are usually a lot larger and more detailed than standard panels.

After deciding that I would be creating a short graphic novel, I began experimenting with the concept art and character designs. I wanted to create a style that wasn't too cartoony or bold but also wasn't too complex, especially since I learned from my comic book art research that when creating character designs, you should aim for simplicity because it will make the process of redrawing them multiple times a lot easier and quicker. When examining the style I ended up with, it's clear that it has been influenced by the work of Bryan Lee O'Malley; in fact, it was even mentioned to me by a peer who saw the similarity. I found that I tend to gravitate towards a specific approach when it comes to character design; this is something that I believe happens to most artists. Trying to break away from this habit and draw in different styles was very difficult for me, and it's something I will need to work on a lot more since I believe that versatility is an important aspect of working in the creative industry.

Once I had found the look I was happy with I started experimenting with the format and layout of the pages. I went into this without any particular plan, starting by creating a two-page spread and then using random shapes and border styles for the panels. Once I had created the borders I began creating a loose story structure that would fill the pages. Although this process was helpful in developing the mood and visual narrative that I would be using, I found that jumping straight into creating detailed panels without a plan or a properly organised structure was also somewhat detrimental to the design process since it was very time-consuming. Despite not being overly beneficial, this experiment did help me to realise the difficulties of working small scale and also that creating overly detailed panels was unnecessary and potentially distracting from the flow of the narrative.

At one stage of the design process, I decided to experiment with a negative drawing style. I did this as I was looking for ways that I could make the piece more exciting and unconventional. In addition to this, I thought that it might be an interesting idea to have one side of the story completely negative, not only to further differentiate from the other story but to reinforce the themes of negativity and hopelessness that the character was imagining in his head. This look was achieved by using black paper and a white gel pen. One of the main issues I had with this style was that it's very difficult to create rough sketches on black paper, meaning I had to go straight into applying the final lines. This meant that I was very anxious about making mistakes, which increased the time that it took to complete the drawings. One solution I found was using a black sharpie to cover over any mistakes, which was somewhat effective but not overly practical. Despite being a fan of this effect, I decided that the cons of creating several pages in this style, such as the complexity and time-consuming factor, would far outweigh the pros. However, I did decide that I would still create one page in this style.

After these initial experiments with style and formatting, I decided to do a bit more research into the comic book structure and the steps to take when creating a comic book or graphic novel. I looked at some articles, YouTube videos, and even spoke to a comic book artist on Instagram. I learned a lot about how to effectively plan your piece, including the importance of thumbnails and rough sketches. In addition to this, I found out more information about page layouts and how to make your narrative flow from panel to panel.

Another important decision that I made at this stage was to shorten and simplify my piece, limiting the number of pages to six per story and making the layout of my panels a lot more basic and consistent. I began by creating a rough layout of all the pages and then proceeded to add the thumbnail designs. Finally, I added small dialogue notes that gave me an idea of what the characters would be thinking or saying in each scene.

After creating the thumbnail images, I started drawing out the panels on the A5 pages, using 6 panels per page apart from pages that would include larger panels for important things such as establishing shots and ending scenes. Unfortunately, the style I chose was largely symmetrical, with specific details that had to remain consistent throughout the piece, meaning that adding the final designs to the panels ended up being a lot more time-consuming than I had originally planned for. Another factor that led to this final stage being so difficult was the fact that I was working at such a small scale, meaning that adding the small details was a fairly complex task that required a lot of focus and patience.

One solution that I came up with was duplicating some of the panels; not only was this useful in recreating scenes that were exactly the same, but it also offered me a good starting point for the scenes that had the same point of view and characters but with certain differences, such as the body language and facial expressions. I initially thought of this as I decided that it would be interesting to change the format of the piece so that the stories were more like mirror images of each other, emphasising the similarities between the two rather than intentionally making them different from the start. An example of this would be the scenes in the Edgar Wright film "Shaun of the Dead." In both of these scenes, Shaun is performing his usual morning routine of walking to and from the local shop; both of these scenes are shot more or less identically; however, Shaun's second trip to the shop is following an outbreak of zombies. The genius and hilarity of this scene is in the fact that Shaun is completely oblivious to the changes around him, such as the general destruction of his environment, bloody puddles, and handprints, as well as multiple zombies roaming the streets. I took a lot of inspiration from these scenes.

Once I finished the final designs I gathered them and took them in for scanning. Unfortunately when examining the final pages I found quite a few blemishes such as smudged ink and creases, however, I found out that these could be removed with some digital editing.

[marjaystuff]

Wendy Walker Interview

What Remains

Wendy Walker

Blackstone Pub

June 13th, 2023

What Remains by Wendy Walker is part procedural, part domestic suspense, part mystery, and a cat/mouse thriller between a policewoman and a stalker.

The story opens with Cold Case Detective Elise Sutton stopping at a department store to buy her children a gift. She hears gunshots and is confronted by an active shooter. One man is about to shoot another, so she decides to make the choice to take one life to save the other. Elise is very shaken having killed someone, even if it was necessary to save other lives. As a detective who works cold cases, she has little need to fire her weapon in the line of duty. She is hailed as a hero, but she doesn't feel like one. Steeped in guilt, and on a leave of absence from work, she's numb, even to her husband and daughters, until she connects with Wade Austin, the tall man, whose life she saved. She asks him if it was a good shooting, which saved his life.

But this meeting will put her life in turmoil even though Wade, known as The Tall Man, hails her as a hero.  She is guilt ridden that she took a life and tells him more about herself than she should.  The problem is Wade is not his real name and when she tries to find him, he   becomes a ghost. 

This is where the story takes a turn and deals with the psychological aftermath of a shooting. Elise comes to grip with letting her guard down with a total stranger who is hellbent on ruining her life unless she gives into his demands of spending their life together.  He begins stalking her and threatening the people she loves including her husband, daughters, and police partner. It now becomes a dangerous, twisted, and deadly game between Elise and the man she saved.

This is an edgy, intense, and chilling novel where readers take a journey with Elise. Readers will not be able to put the book down.

Elise Cooper: How did you get the idea for the story?

Wendy Walker: I was listening to the news years ago and heard about a shooting in Boulder Colorado in a grocery store. Listening to the bystanders interviewed it was so clear they suffered a trauma. I wondered what happened to them.  This is where the title, What Remains, comes from. This was a sudden acute trauma and I wondered what happens to people emotionally.  This is where the character was born and from there, I decided to make her a police officer, Elise. 

EC:  The steps of trauma?

WW:  I found it interesting to find these stages.  In the research, some had seven stages, some six, some five.  Someone’s brain goes through this process of what happened. I put in the books these steps: shock, denial, pain, guilt, anger, bargaining, depression, then an upward swing toward acceptance and hope. I had Elise, obsessed with finding one of those caught up in the store to try to put her mind at ease about the shooting. She feels isolated and alone because she has stopped herself from going through these stages. 

EC:  How would you describe Elise, the police officer?

WW: She has an internal conflict after being hailed a hero, yet she has tremendous guilt and doubt about the shot she took killing the shooter.  She tends toward having anguish, is a puzzle solver because she can control it, vulnerable, and a risk taker. Before the shooting she is confident and happy with her life. 

EC:  What about after the shooting?

WW:  What happened really shakes her and changes her.  As a police officer she second guessed herself. She is strong, tough, capable, and protects herself.  I do not see her as a victim. She is kind of a bad ass because she decided to use her weapon to save people’s lives. She feels tormented, puts herself in danger, feels alone, and has secrets. Elise feels isolated, which comes from the shooting because she sees life darker. There is a disconnect from her emotional brain and thinking brain. The book has a scene where the psychiatrist tells her, ‘The worst kind of loneliness is to be with people you love and feel that they don’t see you, then to be alone.  It is more painful.’

EC:  Readers understand what a stalker does?

WW:  Stalkers are irrational. The like to target, humiliate, create fear, and the victim feels helpless. They are compulsive, torment, play a game of wits, and love the control. If they cannot have someone in their life this is the way they do it. There is no end game because the victim will never be with them. They need to have it in that moment, a connection with the person being stalked. It is just in the moment. They crave power over that person.

EC:  How would you describe Wade, the stalker?

WW:  He is fragile and is in a compromised emotional state when he enters the store. In the store his behavior is less than heroic. His self-esteem is shattered.  The focus on Elise is because he has “rescue worship,” which is based on obsession. He believes that the shooting was meant to be to connect him with Elise. He did not see it as random. Being connected to Elise is essential for Wade’s emotional survival. He is also ruthless and violent because he is desperate and loses control. 

EC:  The role of her partner and husband?

WW:  Rowan is her police partner and is meant to be someone who witnesses what she is going through. He ends up helping her and keeps her secrets. He is the other man in her life even though there is no romance but is protective of her.

Mitch, her husband, had an affair that they are trying to overcome. With this dynamic it makes it easier for Wade to torment her and to get at her because of this vulnerability. What they managed to rebuild is challenging and being exploited by Wade. What Elise loves about Mitch is that he is protective, strong, and supportive. He is trying to understand what she is going through but does not. 

EC:  Next books?

WW:  American Girl was an audible original in 2021. It is coming to print in October. There is a TV option for it. An autistic 17-year-old in a small town witnesses a crime, the death of a wealthy business owner. It is a fast-paced thriller. It was inspired by the Tom Petty song, “American Girl.” 

Next year there will be an audio play called Mad Love. It is a psychological thriller.  A con man is married to a wealthy widow and is found murdered in his bed and she is shot and in a coma.

Also, next year there will be a new novel coming out in 2024 titled Kill Me Softly. It is a play on the song, “Killing Me Softly.” It is about a serial killer who is targeting middle aged women and making it appear like suicides. A young feminist researcher comes to believe there is a serial killer.

THANK YOU!!

[triviareads]

This month was all about contemporary romances for me. I got some excellent ARCs like Tastes Like Shakkar by Nisha Sharma (which pleasantly surprised me; review forthcoming) and Tessa Bailey's Unfortunately Yours (here's my review). I read a rather entertaining novella called Hard Wood that put me in my lumberjack era for a hot second. There was another book that tried to sell me on a hero named "Martin" (tbh his cardinal sin was eating mangos off her vaj, which is only topped off in terribleness by eating tiramisu off someone's vagina— Enzo you monster, cages are not where I draw the line, but the tiramisu is). Also read Dana Islay's Rules We Break which had me pondering why it's so hard to find dommes in romance novels (and rarer still to find well-written ones). All in all, a good month, and here are my favorites:

Looking by Katrina Jackson

This was recommended to me by @monarchies-history after I was asked for a list of diverse contemporary romance recs. Darren and Nadia are a married couple with twins. They want to open their marriage and arrange to meet with Jourdan (sidenote: all the mcs are Black; Katrina really does the most for diverse romances), who is very into both of them right off the bat, and the feeling is mutual (there is a park trail sex scene lolol). What I loved most about Looking is that it's such a joyful book. The dialogue is funny and clever, the sex is very hot in all its configurations (Darren and Nadia get to know Jourdan separately before they all get together— it's actually kinda "slowburn" in that sense; each of them gets their own POV section), and the three of them are just so happy to be together, you can't help but smile.

Serving Pleasure by Alisha Rai

@jeanvanjer was trying to get me to read Glutton for Pleasure for the longest time (which I did, and it was good; another throuple book), but I latched onto Serving Pleasure more, not only because I enjoyed the way the sex was written more, but also because the emotions REALLY got to me. It's also a pretty unhinged premise: The hero Micah is a recluse and an artist, and Rana lives across the street from him and like... constantly watches him, and even follows (stalks?) him at some point. Lucky for her he's very into it, even jerking off purposely at his window (out of spite, but then he stops midway out of guilt lolol). He asks her to pose for him and they began a no strings-attached fling.

Also, I really liked Rana's characterization: she's perceived as a "party girl" with no serious ambition compared to her sisters so she has to grapple with her self-perception vs. what outsides see, which was really quite novel for me to read in a South Asian heroine.

Compromised in Paradise by Samanthe Beck

This book is fun, light, and quite literally a beach read since it's set in a resort in Hawaii. Arden is a stressed-out heiress looking for a fling, but when the hero Nick catches her faking her orgasm, he decides to give her orgasm lessons. Like, what a saint amirite? With a premise like this, it can go a lot of ways but I appreciate Nick's dedication to centering their sex lessons around her and her orgasm, and then it took an unexpected but welcomed turn towards the end with the rare contemporary romance anal sex.

This book also made me read like three of Samanthe's other books on one shot, and they're all full of great banter and solid dirty talk. Would absolutely recommend this book, this series (called "Compromise Me" which should totally be the name of an HR series), and this author overall.

Salt in the Wound by Sierra Simone

Sierra Simone is back at it, y'all. Salt in the Wound is the (free!) prequel to Salt Kiss, which is coming out this fall. It's set in the same universe as the New Camelot series and Sierra's criminally underrated Sherwood (ft. female!Robin Hood/Maid Marian/Sheriff of Nottingham with a side of a hushed mention of bogeyman Mark Trevena). It centers around how Isolde gets engaged to Mark Trevena, former assassin, current BDSM club owner, and Man Who Never Stops Telling You He's A Bad Bad Man. Isolde wants to be a nun (she also learns martial arts at a nun dojo), but is put in a position where she needs to learn how to fake being Mark's sub in public. Cue kink lessons, and as it turns out she's very into it, and Mark is SHOOK (the way he flees at the end because he can't handle Feelings and masks it with a show of "I'm sooooo Bad you should have expected me to be a bitch about this"..... bravo. Couldn't have set up Salt Kiss better).

My favorite thing about Sierra's characters is just the level of zeal they have... for religion, for sex, for power, and this short story is no different. I am eagerly awaiting the Lyonesse Trilogy.

You Can Follow Me by Jo Brenner

This book was shilled in both Sierra Simone and Mila Finelli's newsletters in a span of a week so I knew I had to give it a shot. Another wild premise: Kara hooked up separately with three SEALs who were actually lovers (two of the three did *not* happen upon her by accident...) and now Circumstances lead to them kidnapping her and holding her captive. Listen, I fully admit I came here for the sex (fun sex, angry sex, manipulative sex, spite-because-she-won't-sleep-with-you-so-you-fuck-your-bros-in-front-of-her sex... you get the picture) but I stayed for the *journey* ok. Specifically how Kara deals with this insane loss of freedom even as she wants to jump all of their bones, and starts to catch Feelings.

Scorching to the Touch by Ofelia Martinez

Another excellent recommendation by Sierra Simone, this one is a somewhat toxic (until it isn't!) romance between a telenovela star (and she's plus sized) and a rockstar. Listen, sometimes all you want to do is read a romance with two hot people who know they're hot shit and also deeply messy individuals. Revenge oral 4% of the way into the book? Check. Stalking Tracking each other long after they've broken up? Check. Breaking up each other's engagements? Check. Him crying on his knees because he bruised her during sex even if it's probably him overreacting? Check. Obsession-induced erectile dysfunction? Check. It's fabulous. Would recommend.

Forbidden Harmony by Elizabeth Kelly

I feel like this post sums up the plot of this one excellently; In addition, I know Elizabeth is writing a series with exclusively older couples which I might try soon.

[pinkarachnia]

Lesbian Anime Review #4 - Otherside Picnic

I picked this one to watch after I read the interview with Iori Miyazawa, who wrote the source material novel. I would have a beer with Iori.

The setup here is that there are two girls (great start). They’re adults who drink beer. Both of them have, through different circumstances, found gateways to another world that they call The Otherside (urasekai). I don’t think this anime is an isekai though. The Otherside doesn’t function like your usual isekai fare with the expected suite of fantasy tropes. It’s a dark reflection of earth populated with monsters that just want to kill you or make you go insane. The girls meet up and then decide to make a living from going to the Otherside to fight monsters and then sell the spoils to a researcher they know back on normal earth. Then they start falling in love because why else would I be here

I’m happy that the characters aren’t in high school. Huge plus for me. I don’t think they ever say exactly how old they are but I think they’re university students. They must be at least 20 because they drink alcohol. I like that they use very mundane methods for fighting monsters. The method is guns! These girls are carrying weapons around that they would for sure get in trouble for if someone found them out. Good for them, you love to see some crime in your gay anime.

I think the Otherside is cool. It gives me kind of a dark souls vibe because all the creatures there are extremely hostile and it looks like an ancient version of earth that’s fallen to ruin. I don’t know if they explore any more of it later in the story, but it seems so far like the monsters can’t be communicated with and they always turn to violence immediately. The protagonists never seem to question whether it’s right or wrong for them to shoot to kill, but then they’re usually attacked first. It might be cool to see them do more with that if they animate more of the novels.

I don’t have many criticisms, but a few things stuck out to me that could be improved. The show is presented from the perspective of one of the two girls, the one that’s presented as being plain looking and introverted. Her love interest is outgoing and spontaneous. Kind of get manic pixie dream girl vibes from her.

I don’t think they do a good enough job of letting the main character be her own character. She has a backstory that I won’t spoil, but it’s not a happy one. Despite that she just acts like a normal person aside from being an introvert and not having any friends. She’s practically an audience self insert character, which feels disappointing to me. If you’re going to give your character some kind of trauma, maybe let that define them just a little bit? I feel like I don’t know anything about this character as a person.

My second and more major gripe is with the CGI. I don’t have an issue with anime that uses CGI where appropriate. I get that if you want to animate a crowd of people or complicated machinery or combat scenes it can be a lot more convenient to use 3D models, but I think they use them way too much in this show, and what’s worse is that the models just look bad to me. It’s really easy to spot when it changes from 2D to 3D and they do this for any shot further away than medium distance when the main characters are doing a physical activity. It makes for mediocre looking scenes and really breaks my immersion.

I’d love to see another season of this. Since it was only 2021, I'm still holding onto some hope. While I have my issues with the quality of the presentation at times, I still liked this enough to recommend it. The yuri elements are present through the whole narrative since the main character is only really subjecting herself to horrors on the reg because she has a crush.

If I can find a way to read the books for this, I'd be interested to see where they go with it. I might come back to this review once I can do that. Or I might not.

Pros

ADULTS

Be gay

Do crimes

Dark Souls

Cons

Bad CGI

Main character too bland for me

And I’m giving this one a 7/10

[visceravalentines]

I wish you would write a fic where….

Sinclair bros. gang bang tbh

Alright Nonnie, here we are. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while but the maximum number of people I've ever had sex with at the same time is one (1) so it was kind of daunting to tackle three at once (heh). It got away from me a little bit on the buildup but I hope you like it! Happy to write more like this in the future so if you want me to give it another shot, lmk.

The Sundress

Poly!Sinclairs x Hinge!AFAB!Reader

Smut, group sex, oral, voyeurism, praise kink/dirty talk, no pronouns used but reader wears a sundress, gets called "doll" and "pretty"

This morning you decided to wear a very particular sundress.

You found it at a thrift store on a solo venture into town. It was cute, had a tiny floral print and ruffles on the straps. It wasn’t completely your style, but there was just something about it. It fit your frame perfectly and at the same time, it was both scandalously short and devastatingly low-cut. You wondered if it was too much as you gave the skirt a little twirl in the dressing room mirror. There was a time when you wouldn’t dare wear something like that out of the house for fear of the attention it would attract.

Now, however, the only attention that existed in Ambrose was much more than welcome.

You went ahead and bought it. The thought of each of your boys’ reactions made you giddy and a little smug. You hung it in your closet and waited for the right day to come along to bring it out:  a day when you felt especially sexy and particularly devious. A day when things had finally calmed down after a long and busy week in which you all barely saw each other and most definitely had not spent any quality time together.

That morning, you took a few extra minutes getting ready. The stars had aligned for your little plan. Your hair was gorgeous. Your skin was glowing. You looked like a snack and felt like one too. You practically pranced down the stairs despite admonishing yourself to play it cool.

Bo and Vince were at the breakfast table, enjoying a leisurely morning after the hectic week. Bo had his nose deep in a Clive Barker novel, absently sipping his coffee. Vincent was chewing on toast and sketching.

“Good morning,” you say cheerfully, pulling open the fridge and leaning forward just a little to see if there was any orange juice left.

You hear Vincent stop chewing. Casting a glance over your shoulder, you watch him hit Bo in the arm, his eye glued to you.

“What the hell d’you – oh my.” Bo’s eyebrows shoot up and he immediately places his book facedown on the table. “Well good mornin’ to you, doll.”

You flash them a sugary smile as you pour yourself the dregs of the juice. Vinny’s eye is wide as a saucer. Bo is actually licking his lips. “Did you guys sleep well?”

“Sure did,” Bo says. “What d’you have planned for today?  Anything…in particular?”

You perch on the edge of the table, skirt sliding up beneath your ass just a little bit. “It’s supposed to be real hot today, so I figured I’d go through and water all the flowers one more time.”

Vincent is scribbling absently back and forth over his half-finished sketch. “Good plan,” he signs. “Need any help?”

“Nah, I think I’ll be alright. I can manage a hose, you know.”

“Yeah I bet you can,” Bo murmurs.

You smile at him. “What do you have on the list today?”

Bo talks and Vinny signs at the same time.

“Nothin’ much – ”

“Basically nothing – ”

“ – just gonna clean up around the station a little – ”

“ – probably going to do some inventory of art supplies, super boring – ”

“ – definitely gonna be, y’know, a little bit lonely….”

“ – could use some company for sure….”

A giggle almost escapes your lips. “Well, maybe I’ll catch up with you later.” You hop off the table, adjust your skirt, flounce to the doorway and then turn around. All eyes flick back up to your face. “Hey, when does Lester get back?”

“Lester?” Bo says flatly.

“Late, I think, very late,” Vincent signs.

“Oh, okay. Good to know. Bye guys.” You give them a little wave.

The morning passes with a shocking number of chance encounters. Something is broken in almost every building you visit, and Bo simply must fix it today. Similarly, Vincent informs you he needs to do a spot check of wax figures to make sure they’re holding up alright, and wouldn’t you know it, there are flowerbeds nearby every single one.

Watering flowers is hard work, and you can’t possibly be blamed for the sheen of sweat that glistens on your face and arms, nor the number of times you are required to bend over a planter box, nor the fact that you filled the watering can too full and splashed a little water on your bodice and Bo missed his aim with a hammer and smashed his thumb.

When the heat of the day rolls around in the mid-afternoon, you decide to break for lunch and head back up to the house. The twins are nowhere to be found. You are halfway up Main Street when the rattle of a familiar truck engine reaches your ears.

You turn around and beam at Lester, who is quite literally hanging out the driver’s side window. “Hey stranger!”

“Hey yourself,” he says, parking the truck in the middle of the road. “You look – well, now – that is a mighty fine dress.” He blushes.

“Thank you!” You give him a twirl.

His mouth is actually hanging open. He quickly closes it and swallows hard. “Y’know, I would…I’d offer you a ride, but…how ‘bout I just walk you home instead?”

“I would love that.”

Lester climbs out of the truck and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. He is remarkably clean, nothing but a few bloodstains below his knees. He offers you his arm, which you gladly take.

“Don’t you need to move the truck out of the road?”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Nobody comes here anyway. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, just watering flowers. It’s hot today.” You toss your head, fan yourself.

“You’re damn right. Been workin’ up a sweat, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Geez.” He cannot take his eyes off you. “Where’re Bo and Vincent?”

“I’m not sure. They’ve been hanging around all day, but I haven’t seen them for a minute.”

“Yeah I’ll bet they have. You’re prettier than a field o’ phlox, honey.”

You squeeze his arm. “Thank you, Les.”

He stops at the edge of the yard. “Hey listen. Lemme go change outta these clothes, then why don’t you and I sneak over to that lil meadow on the east side o’ town?  Do a little catchin’ up.”

“That sounds lovely.” You start towards the house.

“Ah-ah, why don’t you wait here?  I’ll just be a minute.”

You frown innocently. “But Lester, it’s hot.”

“Well I’ll grab you a drink and bring it back out with me. I jus’ don’t want you gettin’ sidetracked is all.”

“Okay I guess.” You shrug your bare shoulders.

“Be right back, sweet pea.” Lester kisses your cheek, immediately turns bright red, and practically leaps up the front steps and into the house.

Today has been quite the success so far, you think as you kick at the edge of the lawn with a sneakered foot. You’ve been in Ambrose and involved with the Sinclairs for a good while now; it’s nice to know you can still fluster them when you feel like it.

You wait around for a fair few minutes before the front door opens and Vincent steps out, beckons you. “Hey angel, why don’t you come inside?  I’m almost done with lunch.”

“Aw Vinny, that’s so sweet of you. But I told Lester I’d wait for him to finish changing.”

“C’mon, you know he’ll be a while. He’s got no concept of time.”

“You’re right about that. I am pretty hungry.”

You climb the stairs, step inside. Vincent shuts the door. Your eyes fall on Lester, who hasn’t even changed yet, standing next to Bo, who has his arms crossed over his chest. Vincent comes up behind you, weaves his strong arms around your waist, holds you against him. You furrow your brow in mock bewilderment. “What’s going on, guys?”

“You’ve been a regular little cocktease all day, that’s what,” Bo says.

“Me?”

“Yeah you.”

“It ain’t fair,” Lester pipes up.

“Prancin’ around all day lookin’ like that.”

You can’t help but smirk and shrug. “Sorry.”

Vincent drops his hands to your hips, pulls you a little closer. You feel a half-established erection pressing against your ass.

“Well, lucky for you, we’ve all come together and decided on a solution,” Bo announces, moving leisurely toward you. “You wanna put on a show, darlin’?  We’ll let you put on a show.”

A thrill shoots through you. “Well I suppose that’s only fair.”

“More’n fair, I think,” Bo says as he squares up in front of you.

The first press of Vinny’s lips to your neck sends chills down your back. Bo takes your chin in his hand and bends to capture your mouth. You feel Vincent suck at the thin skin behind your ear, relishing the salt of your sweat.

Already your brain begins to fray with the input of so many sensations at once. You put one hand over Vincent’s, grip Bo’s shirt in the other, and have almost forgotten there are three Sinclair brothers when you feel a gentle brush of fingers on your left thigh, then your right, and then Lester’s hands are beneath your skirt and sliding your panties down. You wonder where he can possibly fit in this arrangement for only a second before you feel his tongue on your sex.

A hopeless moan escapes your throat and Bo breaks your kiss. You open your eyes and note with satisfaction that his face is flushed beneath that smug expression.

“I sure do love seein’ you flustered, darlin’.”

“Right back atcha, sugar,” you say.

Oh, but he does love a spitfire. He seizes your lip with his teeth, running his thumb over your collarbones. Vincent slips the straps off your shoulders and continues his adoration of your skin. Lester, ever the dark horse, already has you unsteady on your feet with long, slow licks. You weave your fingers through his hair and arch your back as Vinny’s deft hands slip beneath the fabric of your dress to cup your breasts.

When you cannot possibly hold yourself up any longer thanks to Les’s ministrations, they disentangle themselves for a brief, heartbreaking moment so you can weave to the couch. You ease yourself back against Bo’s chest, let him hold your wrists in place around his neck, all but trembling with anticipation as Vincent positions himself at your entrance.

“Now darlin’,” Bo murmurs in your ear, “I don’t want poor Les feelin’ all left out here. So why don’t you keep your eyes on him while Vin makes you feel real good, alright?” You nod desperately, lock eyes with Lester, who winks at you. Bo cups your jaw, thumbs your lip. “An’ I’ll be right here, makin’ sure you know what a good job you’re doin’, what pretty sounds you’re makin’. Does that sound okay, doll?”

You open your mouth to respond and Vincent, ever the opportunist, picks that moment to ease himself into you, all the way, an inch at a time. The whine this elicits from you is positively wicked and you hear Bo chuckle against your temple.

“Goddamn, baby, you’re so much fun.”

As Vincent picks up the pace, hands running over your legs, you do your best to keep your gaze fixed on Lester, whose hungry expression leaves you feeling a whole new level of naked. All the while Bo pours a steady stream of praise and filthy commentary into your ear, rutting against your backside as his twin draws a series of sinful sounds from your lips.

Eventually Vincent trades Bo and Bo trades Lester, and you have the unique and genuine pleasure of experiencing the techniques of each one of them in quick succession. Somewhere along the way you are lost in oblivion, your body electric, lavished in kisses and caresses and admiration from all sides.

When at last you are spent and so are they, Bo brings you a glass of water, Lester plants a tender kiss on your brow, and Vincent carries you up to bed.

And that sundress sits in a heap on the floor, forgotten for now, until the next time you decide to capture your lovers’ attention.

[artemiszy]

THERE IS NO HAPPINESS | Kokushibo X Wife!Reader

Kokushibo x Wife!Reader | One-shot

"Kokushibo was a man who made a lot of mistakes during his life, but loving his wife certainly wasn't one of them, even if she too made the same mistakes."

WARNING. angst, abandonment, weird relationship(?), swearing, death, light gore(I think), manga spoilers. FEMALE READER

The Toyosaki clan was known and prosperous thanks to its reputation for possessing the most beautiful and sweetest women. Sons were kept in their own clan, while daughters were promised to powerful leaders and strong samurai.

And with (Name) it was no different.

As the third daughter of the current clan head and his wife, (Name) was only ten years old when she was betrothed to the firstborn of another clan. It was to be expected, one of her older sisters was already married and the other was engaged too, (Name) just nodded when she got the news.

At least her future husband would be kind. (Name) shuddered to remember that one of her cousins ​​was unhappily married to a cruel, older man, but he was rich and had a reputation, and that was what mattered anyway...

(Name) was a silent child whose expression was always neutral towards everything around her, but she felt relieved when she was informed about the age of her future husband. A boy who was only two years older than (Name), a future samurai and leader. Until she was very curious to meet him.

It took about three or four months for (Name) to meet him in person, the day the clans got together to do business with each other. (Name) stayed with her eldest sister, the second daughter of Lord Toyosaki, who was fourteen years old, was the closest sister to (Name).

— "Nervous?" — Yuri's low words rang in (Name)'s ear.

(Name)'s face rose from her hands clasped under her folded legs above the mat, and she looked at her older sister. — "No."

Maybe it was a lie, after all, (Name) was in new territory, one that he would now live with more often.

— "I can see your little hands trembling, dear sister." — Yuri laughed as he tucked one of (Name)'s (h/c) behind her ear. — "Don't worry, I felt that way too the day I met Yoshimatsu-kun." — She smiled. — "You'll soon realize that things are going to work out for the best."

(Name) remembers that day, it was a year ago when during spring her sister Yuri went with her father and clan companions to officiate her engagement to Yoshimatsu of the Tanifuji clan. (Name) has yet to meet him as at that time she decided to stay with her mother, who could give birth to her younger brother at any time.

According to Yuri's words, Yoshimatsu was like one of the princes of the novels read by her sister, a kind man and a lover of the arts. (Name) still expected her future husband to be kind.

Now it was spring again.

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Her future husband's name was Michikatsu Tsugikuni. (Name) first saw him while walking through the engawa with her sister and other ladies, she saw him training with a master in the estate's garden. At that moment she didn't know it was him, although her eyes met and they both stared at each other for a few seconds before they were brought back to reality.

(Name) only found out a few moments after she was finally alone and overheard a conversation between handmaidens.

— "I feel bad for the Toyosaki girl." — One of the servants whispered to the other within a region of the residence.

(Name)'s footsteps stopped at these words. Wait, were they talking about her? The girl looked into the room carefully so as not to be seen thanks to the half-open door.

— "So it is." — The other agreed. — "How did Lord Toyosaki allow (Name)-sama to marry second choice?"

Those servants seemed not to want to be heard at all.

Second option?

— "Hey! Watch your words." — The first handmaiden gave a whispery cry.

— "But it's true, the stronger son fled and what was left for the Tsugikuni was to entrust the clan to the weaker son!"

— "But look on the bright side." — The other chuckled mischievously. — "With the arrival of the Toyosaki maybe we can meet some handsome boys from the clan..."

The servants laughed and talked to each other about trivial matters now, outside, (Name) was sitting on the floor leaning against a wall now a little far from the room, thinking about what she heard.

Strongest son? Weakest son?

She remembers only once hearing around that Michikatsu had a twin brother, but she ended up putting that aside as she wasn't interested.

— "What are you doing there?" — A boyish male voice caught the attention of (Name), when she looked at him she realized it was the same boy as before, until he widened his eyes when she looked at him with those big confused and beautiful eyes. — "(Name)-sama?!"

(Name) quickly got up and covered the boy's mouth making "shhh", then looking back to make sure the handmaids didn't hear, and seeing that they didn't, she grabbed the boy's hand and pulled him out of there.

— "What were you talking about there?" — The boy asked with a slight distress and concern in his voice.

— "I overheard a conversation and…" — (Name) looked right at the boy. — ...Hmm? Wait. Michikatsu-sama?"

— "Y-Yes..."

(Name) blinked. — "Oh."

The two were silent.

— "..."

— "..."

— "...So, you are my future wife...?"

— "...I am."

— "Oh."

— "..."

Michikatsu scratched his cheek and looked away with a faint pink blush appearing on his face. — "You... you're beautiful..."

— "..." — (Name) gave a small smile of happiness. — "Thanks."

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It was clear that (Name) wanted a love match, so she was happy when she was able to spend more time with her future husband thanks to certain meetings. Friendship became love in a matter of just a single year.

At sixteen, (Name) married Michikatsu. A year later she had her first child, Tsukihiro.

During this period of time, (Name) watched her husband become a stronger and more skilled man, she admired this, his dedication and talent, although she felt that sometimes something bothered her.

Two more years passed before Michikatsu approached (Name) with news.

— "(Name)..."

— "Hmm?" — (Name) looked at him as her finished feeding little Tsukihiro boiled rice.

There was also a small bulge in (Name)'s belly area below her kimono, indicating that she was expecting a baby in the next few months.

Her husband sighed and sat down on the mat beside her as Tsukihiro's face rejoiced to see his father.

— "My brother is back..." — Michikatsu informed her.

(Name) had a surprised reaction, she had already heard about Yoriichi, her husband's talented twin brother. Michikatsu talked about him in more detail at certain times, such as when Yoriichi had to live in a cubicle room and never said anything to the point where the twins' mother thought her youngest son was deaf.

Or when he ran away just so his brother wouldn't be left out.

— "(Name)..." — He began. — "Have you ever heard of demons?"

Demons. (Name) remembers hearing stories as a child of hungry beasts that fed on humans after sunset. Once, at dawn, Yuri approached (Name) in the dead of night and whispered about having heard around that a beast had torn apart a group of men in the southern mountains, it had been a terrible damage to be the work of animals.

Demons. That was the answer given by people considered crazy.

— "Once... when I was a kid... my father yelled at me and my sister when we mentioned demons." — (Name) whispered, looking down at the small bowl in her hands of nearly finished rice. — "He said we shouldn't talk nonsense."

— "They are real."

— "I know. I believe."

— "I was attacked by one."

(Name)'s eyes widened and she nearly dropped the bowl. Thanks to his samurai duties, Michikatsu often spent days and even weeks away. But (Name) could never have imagined that something related to demons would have happened this last time.

Wait, is that why Yoriichi came back?

— "I lost all my men in a demonic attack, that's when my brother arrived in time and saved me..."

— "What?" — (Name) dropped the bowl on the chabudai table as Tsukihiro was too busy playing with his father's hair to finish eating or even think about listening to the conversation between the adults. — "How did he do it?"

Michikatsu sighed as he felt a slight tug on his ponytail. — "He used a sword with a nichirin blade and... a breath."

— "Breath?"

— "You won't understand if you start to explain... but know that it's something powerful that helps to kill demons." — Michikatsu explained. — "There is a corps of swordsmen who hunt and kill demons, my brother is there and taught the other men derivations of his breath." — He seemed a little hesitant to continue. — "And I decided to join them."

(Name) was speechless, kept her gaze calm. That was dangerous, her husband would be at risk if he went. No…he was strong, one of the strongest she'd ever seen. He could manage, after all, he wouldn't be alone, his brother and companions would be there.

He's going to be fine... or at least that's what (Name) deeply prayed for.

— "I... I..." — (Name) tried to start a sentence.

— "From your reaction I don't think it's something you liked very much." — Michikatsu took a deep breath as he relaxed his body and tilted his head up.

— "I won't deny it, I didn't like that idea very much." — (Name) pulled her adorable restless son close to her so he could finish his meal and then sleep. — "I worry about you..."

Michikatsu tilted his face towards her, gave a small smile and approached her. — "Do not worry, I'll be fine." — He held (Name)'s porcelain face and placed a kiss on her lips, hearing an "eeew" from Tsukihiro. — "Don't you trust me?"

— "I trust, of course I trust!" — (Name) seemed to hesitate a little. — "B-But..." — She felt her baby move in her womb, perhaps because she was a little nervous to imagine her husband in the midst of demons, enemies much more dangerous and powerful than humans.

— "I'll be fine." — Michikatsu leaned his forehead against his wife's while still caressing her face.

— "You'll be back all right, promise?"

— "Promise."

The moment Michikatsu left, (Name) felt a tug on the fabric of the kimono on her shoulder.

— "Okaa-san!" — Tsukihiro exclaimed with a mouth full of rice. — "Where Otou-san is going?"

(Name) laughed and wiped her son's mouth, finding it adorable that he is so playful and already knows how to speak several words, even if he sometimes misses the pronunciation.

— "Work, dear…" — She smiled and hugged her son. — "You're going to miss him, aren't you?"

— "Uhm..." — Tsukihiro grumbled with his face buried in his mother's kimono.

— "Me too..."

Even though she believed in her husband, (Name) didn't feel a good feeling.

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Her husband's presence became less frequent, (Name) received news about Michikatsu's status at the hunters' headquarters and felt relieved that he was well.

However (Name) was furious and devastated when Michikatsu failed to attend the birth of Tsuyami, her newborn daughter.

It didn't take long for her to realize that something was really wrong. Michikatsu's gaze and the way his lips seemed to spit out his twin's name... (Name) recognized that this was not normal, and her suspicions were reinforced when she found her husband in a grueling training session during the night.

— "Michikatsu?" — (Name) strained her eyes to see under the rain her husband soaked by the drops but not letting go of the sword he used to slash the air.

He did not answer.

— "Michikatsu... what are you doing there at this hour?" — (Name) sighed with concern. — "Please... go back inside, I don't want you to get sick."

Again there was no response.

— "Michi--"

— "I have to become stronger..."

— "Hm?"

— "My brother... I have to get over him..." — Michikatsu growled in a mutter.

— "...What?" — (Name) squeezed the handle of the intern. — "...Michikatsu, go back inside." — Her voice was more serious.

Again there was no response, and the samurai continued to slash at the non-existent opponent with his blade.

(Name) dropped her flashlight on the engawa floor and walked quickly across the wet lawn to her husband in the rain, getting wet in the process, but that was not important.

— "Listen me!" — She grabbed Michikatsu's wrist. — "Stop it! You're already crossing the line! I don't want you to harm yourself!" — Her look was incredulous for that situation. — "How long have you been doing this, huh?!"

— "(Name)... go back inside." — He growled.

— "No!" — Her voice was raised as she brushed strands of wet hair from her face thanks to the rain. — "Look at you! Your training is too intense! It's going to end up hurting you!"

— "Fuck!" — Michikatsu turned to face her. — "I need to become stronger than my brother!" — He yelled.

(Name) blinked with a confused face, before her writhed in rage again. — "So that's it?! You'd die if it made you better than your brother by any chance?! What's on your mind?! You're obsessed!"

Michikatsu's jaw clenched.

— "This... this is madness..." — Now (Name)'s voice was one of sadness, melancholy. — "I don't want you to keep hurting yourself..."

He was hurting himself… gnawing and eating away at his blood and sweat and even his last hair to make himself stronger. While his younger brother didn't need any of that.

He was already strong without even training.

That thought was a reminder, and it made Michikatsu furious.

(...)

Days passed, Michikatsu left on a mission and no further news. (Name) feared the worst.

Until when a whole week has graduated, he comes back.

— "Michi?" — (Name) wept with relief to see her husband appear in the doorway.

Tsukihiro rejoices and tries to hug his father's leg, but the grown man walks in a specific direction, ignoring both his children and his wife. The now four year old boy stands static in the same place where his father was before, his face surprised and even in shock at how rough Michikatsu was when he passed by.

— "..." — (Name) looked in the direction Michikatsu had gone. — "Michi! What was that?"

No reply.

— "Otou-san!" — Tsukihiro ran after Michikatsu, disappearing from (Name)'s sight.

(Name) looked down into her arms and saw her daughter fidgeting and whimpering. Before she could get up and go after her son and husband, both of them appear, Tsukihiro trying to call out to Michikatsu and being ignored by him.

— "Michikatsu, why are you ignoring him?" — (Name) asks with concern, feeling the sadness in her son.

He ignores her.

— "Hey!" — (Name) gets up carefully so as not to disturb Tsuyami. — "Why do not you speak?"

— "Otou-san!" — Tsukihiro tries to get his father's attention by pulling on his hakama pants, but the boy just fell back when Michikatsu opened the shoji door without even looking back.

— "Goodbye."

Michikatsu Tsugikuni disappeared after that night.

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Everything was in chaos. Michikatsu's disappearance and his alleged family abandonment had thrown everything into chaos.

Tsukihiro couldn't stop crying and asking where his father was, and his crying resulted in Tsuyami crying. (Name) didn't know what to do, of all there she was certainly the most broken. Her husband left her without a word, left her and her children.

Things got even more tense when Yoriichi showed up at her house to let her know what happened.

Michikatsu abandoned his humanity and was now a demon. (Name) couldn't help but cry, Yoriichi gave her a shoulder for it.

And things got even worse when at the door of her property appeared other slayers demanding that (Name) commit sepukku with Yoriichi thanks to what Michikatsu have done.

(Name) thought about it, but who was she kidding? She wouldn't have the courage.

Two months passed. Two months of pure pain and conflict. During this period of time things became tense internally, Tsukihiro was supposed to become the next head of the clan as Michikatsu had been presumed "dead" and Yoriichi... well, Yoriichi was no longer an option. Tsukihiro was still too young for that, a child barely five years old, so much trouble.

(Name) just couldn't handle the whole situation, the pressure of her "new" clan and the abandonment of her husband, to make matters worse, she still had to live with the comments of people who found her situation funny.

Sometimes (Name) wished these people would die.

Her only hope now was her children, her only joy, though Tsukihiro was still upset and Tsuyami was too young to even understand what was happening. (Name) was doing her best to keep them well.

(...)

Things changed again a few days after the arrival of spring, this time in a much more drastic and intense way.

— "Nice night, don't you think?"

The unfamiliar male voice made (Name)'s eyes widen. The voice had a soft tone but there was still something about it that made its owner scream danger.

(Name) released the flower from the mansion's garden and turned her face towards the subject. He was a man much taller than she was, a handsome man she had never seen before. Curly black hair and eyes the brightest blood red.

How did he get in here?

— "Who are you...?"

The man smiled, a smile that despite looking friendly was still an evil smile. — "I am the one known as the Demon King."

Muzan Kibutsuji.

Silence. Total silence with only the noise of crickets and owls.

A wind hit (Name)'s face before she could say anything. — "...Why are you here?"

— "Your husband misses you." — The man's laugh made her shiver.

(Name) felt her chest tighten at the mention of her husband, but she tried to remain steadfast in the face of the whole situation. She knew how dangerous the Demon King was, Yoriichi had warned her.

— "That... that doesn't answer my question."

Still looking satisfied with the situation, Muzan took a few slow steps forward with the intention of getting a few meters closer to the woman.

— "Why don't you become a demon?"

— "What?"

— "I've been watching you for a while after I got Kokushibo, and I have to admit... you would be a great demon."

It was as if there was venom in his voice, those words were mean and there wasn't an ounce of genuineness in them. He was trying to manipulate her. After what Yoriichi did to Muzan, it was clear that he would need allies.

— "..." — (Name) stared at him without reaction.

— 'Think about it, you will be strong and fear nothing more." — The man's voice was strangely anxious. — "You will never grow old and will remain young for all eternity."

(Name)'s face lowered, her gaze fixed on the lawn as her hand trembled slightly, squeezing the hem of her kimono.

She knew she had no choice, by the time the Demon King appeared before her she was already doomed. Muzan wasn't the type to take a "no" and walk away. No... (Name) was smart enough to understand what would happen. He would kill her and then annihilate everyone on this property.

Including Tsukihiro and Tsuyami.

And it had been almost a month since the last time Yoriichi showed up, he wouldn't be able to help anyone in that situation.

It was the moment (Name) felt Muzan's hand enter her chest and pump his blood that she realized that maybe she wasn't that different from her husband.

She blacked out.

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A again everything has changed.

(Name) did not have the courage to appear to her children after that night, she was afraid that they would fear her or that she would hurt them. So she stood in the shadows watching everything, shedding tears at the loss of the sparkle in Tsukihiro's eyes after losing his mother and father in such a short period of time, before such a joyful and full of life child.

Like Michikatsu, (Name) was also presumed dead. It was at her "funeral" that (Name) saw her sister Yuri for the first time in so long.

She had to walk away after that day.

Meanwhile Michikatsu, no... Kokushibo, now the demon who craved more and more for power to overcome his brother no matter what, his vision was clouded by hatred and rancor that only realized that sixty years had passed when he found his brother again.

A old man, but alive, and even stronger than his brother.

Kokushibo was furious. Why was his brother still alive?! He should have died years ago for the mark!

He got even angrier when even old, his brother managed to hurt him. Nothing changed.

But his mind became even more clouded when the attack that would kill him never came, as Yoriichi had died standing up with his sword still in hand. That's when he realized that not even that man could defeat him, no one could even hurt him.

He made his older brother feel pathetic.

Kokushibo's mind screamed in rage as he cut the other twin's already dead body in two. But his mind was cleared when he saw the flute fall to the ground.

— "I think of that flute you gave me... as if it were you, brother." — A young Yoriichi smiled at the flute in his hands.

— "..."

— "I made a flute for my brother a few years ago, you know?" — A thirteen-year-old Michikatsu smiled at a (Name) of the same age as he practiced with his wooden sword.

— "Serious?" — She smiled. — "How cute! You really love your brother, don't you?"

Yoriichi... (Name)...

— "What did you do?"

That familiar voice... The man felt as if his body had stopped working for a moment.

He looked back over his shoulder and his six eyes widened at the sight of that familiar figure beneath the red moon. There she was, just as he had last seen her. The same simple yet beautiful kimono; the soft skin and delicate face; the same hair (h/c).

She looked at him with an emotionless face but at the same time there seemed to be surprise in those eyes. Those eyes that now distinguished that she was no longer human. The whites of her eyes had been replaced by black and the iris of her eyes were now white instead of (e/c).

Despite everything, she still remained the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

— "...(Name)..."

She did not answer. Instead her eyes were empty but not from sadness or melancholy, it was as if she had forgotten what it felt like to feel something. There was nothing in those eyes.

(Name) just passed by Kokushibo to see Yoriichi's body. — "Bury him, at least give him a decent burial."

Yoriichi was his brother after all.

He could feel it, that woman was a strong demon, something that had killed so many people.

During the short period of time that both of them got together to bury the dead man's body, neither of them said a word, although Kokushibo felt the burning in his chest to confront her, even though at no point did she look at him in the face.

The two buried Yoriichi in the same spot that his now-deceased wife had been buried. Then (Name) disappeared along with a mist that was probably part of her kekkijutsu.

Now husband and wife were two strangers.

(...)

About fifty more years passed. Things change again. Kokushibo, who now held the rank of "upper moon one" received the information that there was a demon rising very fast in the hierarchy, and that he was currently in the rank of "upper four".

Another year later and the demon has risen to "upper three".

Another year and the demon has risen to "upper two".

Afterwards Kokushibo received news that this demon had now become powerful enough to share the rank of "upper one" with him. And that left him seething with hatred.

Who was the bastard who was able to match his strength with his?

His bad thoughts faded and were replaced by surprise when Kokushibo was finally introduced to the demon.

And there she was again. With the same emotionless face and empty eyes.

— "(Name)..."

She didn't answer, but she blinked.

— "When did it get so strong?"

— "Just like you."

The more they feed, the more powerful the demons get. And by how quickly (Name) rose through the ranks it can only mean that she killed a lot of people at once.

You could see in the depths of those soft but opaque eyes, (Name) was a demon that craved power, a blank crockery, there was no emotion on her face other than the desire to have more strength.

And despite being his wife, Kokushibo would not allow (Name) to surpass him as a demon in the same way that Yoriichi surpassed him as a human.

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— "Ara ara~ (Name)-chan is always so serious!" — Douma's irritating voice rang out.

— "Shut up, worm." — Akaza growled.

(Name) just ignored the fight of those two annoying demons in the distance and remained with her eyes closed and an ethereal posture sitting on the mat.

The emergence of Muzan's presence made Akaza and Douma settle down before they lost their heads. (Name) opened her eyes when she felt him close by.

— "Any news on the blue spider lily?"

The demons' negative responses seemed to irritate Muzan. So long and still nothing.

He continued. — "You good-for-nothings are useless." — Muzan growled. — "I should eliminate them once and for all."

The upper moons present at the place felt as if their cells were going to explode, and that hurt a lot, (Name) had to admit, even though she had already gotten used to it thanks to Muzan's temper. When the man seemed to calm down the pain left.

That situation was already common. Muzan would come and ask about such a flower, and when the demons didn't bring answers that pleased him then he would get angry saying things like "I will destroy you all".

Kokushibo looked to the side so that she could see (Name), whose eyes were fixed on the ground. Despite everything, she was still beautiful.

When the noise of the biwa sounded, Kokushibo was now in the middle of a forest in front of an empty rice field. Next to him was (Name) sitting on a large boulder. It was rare for them to be alone together, and for the first time, (Name) didn't leave. She sat there with her eyes closed feeling the cool breeze hit her face.

— "Do you feel it?" — She muttered with her head tilted up.

— "..."

She silenced him by opening her eyes abruptly and leaning her face forward again. — "Shh."

The two were silent, until Kokushibo felt something too.

— "Humans. Nearby." — And then she disappeared again in her mist kekkijutsu.

A few meters away was a group of slayers who seemed to be looking for demons, they didn't look more than twenty years old.

— "Yeah man!" — One of them yelled and scratched his ear. — "I saw a demon pass this way!"

— "Are you sure it wasn't just a boar?" — Another rolled his eyes, tired of the whole situation and wanting to go back to the old village in the interest of seeing some pretty girls.

— "Forget it!" — Another one exclaimed, already irritated. — "Leave the demons alone!" — He snorted. — "Let's go before this mist intensifies!"

— "Wait, mist?"

By the time they finally realized that there was a dark fog surrounding them it was too late. The texture of the mist was similar to clouds, but it seemed to contain twinkling stars, until the mist covered them completely until it looked like the slayers had been transported to a "dimension" of a starry night sky.

— "What the hell is that...?" — One of them looked like he was going to get his pants dirty.

— "A demon!" — He took up his sword. — "Keep alert!"

The darkness mixed with the mist was extremely dense to the point that no human would be able to see anything. The last thing they saw was the flash of a sword's blade cut.

When the mist stopped, the slayers returned to the forest with lifeless bodies.

— "I could have done it without you." — (Name) muttered.

— "Hm."

She just sighed and approached the bodies, there were six in total.

— "Marechi..." — Kokushibo threw one of the bodies in front of (Name). — "You can... you can have this..."

(Name) blinked a little in surprise, as demons didn't usually share their dead prey, let alone marechi. Even if they were the targets of (Name) and Kokushibo he had just meddled.

It was okay, after all… he still had a lot to redeem himself if he wanted her forgiveness. If he ever had.

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Things got weird for the demons when the upper moon six died and shortly thereafter upper five and four as well. For the first time in a hundred years things have changed again, not in a good way for the demons, apparently.

Now only Muzan and his last upper moons remained, Nakime had become the upper four and Kaigaku - a boy who was turned into a demon after his encounter with the upper moon one, felt intimidated and realized he wouldn't have chances to win, knelt in front of Kokushibo accepting his blood while (Name) watched everything from behind. - It had risen in rank and was now in the upper moon six position.

Either way, they've kept to the shadows since discovering a demon that can beat the sun. Who knows what Muzan was planning.

In the sprawling hall full of columns was the spot that (Name) chose to think a little, not long before he came across her ranking companion.

Her husband.

— "Do you feel it?" — He asked in his usual distant voice.

(Name) raised her face and looked at him in silence.

— "It started." — She said.

The slayers were in the infinite fortress. It was only a matter of time before they reached the upper moon one.

Things were changing, now it was fate's turn to decide whether the last upper moons would live or die as their "companions". And if fate were truly merciful, no demons would make it through this night.

Despite keeping in mind that it was one of the strongest demons, still, deep down behind his neutral face, (Name) feared for a moment. Kokushibo sensed this and looked straight at her.

— "(Name)..." — He called out to her, and she looked at him again. — "Before... this all started... I wanted to ask you... why did you become a demon..."

She didn't respond right away, instead looking down at the floor.

— "I... I don't know..." — She replied. — "At first I was scared... I didn't want to accept the change and I even thought that things could be different but... it wasn't worth it. In the end, I just didn't want to die."

Kokushibo listened in silence. — "I see..." — He also averted his eyes to another direction other than the woman beside her. — "I allowed all my hatred for my brother to blind me to the point of leaving for more power…" — Pause. — "My biggest regret... was not coming back for you that night..."

In the end, there was nothing to complain about after all, they weren't that different.

The conversation of the two demons was interrupted as a human presence grew closer and closer.

The moment a young slayer fell from the shattered ceiling and stopped in front of the pair of demons, (Name) felt a strange sensation as her laid eyes on him.

— "You're here... demon slayer..." — Kokushibo started and put his hand on the katana bar, until he finally realized the same thing that (Name) had felt. — "Hm...? For some reason... you look very... familiar..."

(Name) agreed, still in a certain trance thanks to that feeling.

Kokushibo's six eyes narrowed with a calm expression. — "I imagined... now I understand..."

The slayer was silent as if there was a conflict in his mind. The presence of the demons was intimidating, the boy tried to pull his sword but he didn't stop shaking. It was as if there was a dangerous aura in that place.

Very dangerous.

— "What is your name...?

— "...Muichiro Tokito."

— "Right then... the name Tsugikuni must have disappeared then..." — The six-eyed demon looked thoughtful.

For a moment, (Name) felt like her body was going to fall, that feeling...

The female demon stopped her gaze in the direction of the young slayer meters away. That face… it looked like a face she'd long since forgotten about.

No... it can't be...

— "...Tsugikuni? Who was it?" — Muichiro seemed to notice the tension in the demon woman.

— "It's been centuries after all... it was inevitable... my name when I was human was Michikatsu Tsugikuni..."

Michikatsu... it had been ages since (Name) had heard that name out loud...

— "And she remained (Name)..." — The six-eyed demon continued. — "You... are a descendant of a member of the Tsugikuni family that we left behind..."

The Tsukihiro's descendant.

"Okaa-san!"

Muichiro was in shock, trying to process everything he had just heard from the male demon, who remained motionless and unsurprised. The woman on the other hand, despite trying to stand her ground and stoic like the other demon, was clearly just as surprised as the young Hashira, even looking bewildered as if she was going to fall.

As if she was going to cry.

Her mind must have been in a mess. But (Name) tried to put her emotions aside to focus on what was to come.

And the fight began.

The boy's breathing was similar to (Name's) kekkijutsu, so it wasn't that difficult for her to adapt, even if the woman had no intentions of attacking.

At least not yet.

When the mark appeared on Muichiro's face, his attack seemed to get stronger, but it still wasn't enough to defeat the pair of demons. And the moment Kokushibo played his own blade, one of Muichiro's hands flew away.

The next mist was not from Muichiro, but from that woman, who surrounded him preventing him from seeing anything. In the next moment Kokushibo threw him against a pillar keeping the boy there trapped by his own sword.

The mist cleared and (Name) approached the boy standing next to the other demon.

— "Our descendant..." — Kokushibo began. — "Allow me to turn you into a demon... so that you can be of use to that man."

— "It is surprising that you are our descendant…" — (Name) sighed. — "I feel even... happy about it. I'm glad you were born. So there's nothing to fear..."

Kokushibo agreed. — "Let me stop the bleeding... humans are so fragile."

(Name)'s eyes closed a little in anger as she noticed that the hidden slayer really thought she and Kokushibo hadn't noticed him there.

Genya tried to shoot the demons but his arm fell off.

— "GENYAAA!" — Muichiro yelled and tried to break free.

— "Be silent…" — (Name) scolded him. — "Screaming will hurt your vocal cords..."

Despite keeping his eyes fixed on Genya, Muichiro seemed to be listening intently to everything the woman said.

— "You know... you really remind me a lot of someone..." — (Name) sighed, watching Kokushibo practically slash Genya's body. — "Your face is so...familiar to me. It makes me feel strange. Even though I appreciate you being here...it makes me sick to my stomach, makes me feel angry."

The woman's voice was comforting as if she were an angel singing a lullaby. If that situation wasn't catastrophic with Genya's life hanging by a thread, Muichiro could peacefully fall asleep with that voice.

Before Kokushibo rips off Genya's head, the Wind Hashira arrives and saves him at just the right moment.

As Kokushibo was thrown backwards at the moment of impact, (Name) took a deep breath and closed her eyes as her hair and kimono fabric swayed with its dense mist appearing as if it was coming out the back of her body and the ends of her hair.

It's time.

(...)

Despite being stronger than Douma and Akaza, (Name) was still weaker than Kokushibo. After all, she wasn't really a fighting demon.

Her abilities were similar to Nakime's, she was able to create an environment that she was sure humans could not on their own. Her mist had created the same starry night sky, the slayers present there knew that this was bad as the new environment was the work of the female demon, which would clearly favor Kokushibo in the fight.

During the fight, Sanemi seemed to enjoy having an opponent worth killing according to him, even if it was giving him trouble.

Thanks to the mist, neither the female demon nor the other two slayers could be seen. Though Genya seemed to be close and both he and Muichiro could feel the intense battle between Sanemi and the six-eyed demon.

After an attack by Kokushibo, in the midst of the mist pieces of sliced ​​pillars began to fall and Genya's eyes widened in terror as he saw his older brother standing, bleeding.

— "Aniki..." — He gasped.

The wreckage of pillars began to be "absorbed" by the mist. This is bad.

— "Hm... you held on for a long time... but it's over." — Kokushibo observed. — "If you move... your organs... will split..."

The six-eyed man felt his body go weird as he noticed his pulse change. Not only that, the mist seemed to get a little more unstable. Whatever is happening is also affecting (Name) too.

The white haired Hashira started to laugh. — "Rare blood to demons is like catnip." — He took the chance to attack Kokushibo, who staggered backwards. — "Oops man, what's the problem?! You look a little dizzy and this mist looks like it's going to dissolve!" — He laughed. — "The scent of my blood intoxicates the demons! This is the rarest blood among the rare! Feast time!"

(Name) needed to stay focused so that the mist field wouldn't dissolve, so she would take advantage of Kokushibo. She took a deep breath and the mist intensified as she regained her composure after the marechi scent faded, and she felt the demon and the slayer struggle.

Until a new presence appears in the territory and (Name) soon pull him into the mist as well.

— "They keep showing up..." — Kokushibo looked annoyed, despite remaining neutral in that situation.

The Hashira of the stone had joined the fight. Kokushibo was surprised to see a body as perfected as that in three hundred years.

The mist seemed to become a little restless again, but this time not because of (Name) but thanks to Gyomei's fighting moves.

When the chain wrapped itself around Kokushibo's neck - he was able to escape. - he realized that his flesh sword would be destroyed even before he broke Gyomei's weapons.

Despite everything, the mist still favored him making things difficult for Gyomei, who clearly realized the situation.

Meanwhile, Muichiro tried to escape from the wall, with great effort, but managed, falling to the floor panting. And after making the bandages he ran to help Genya, who asked him for the lock of hair ripped from Kokushibo.

— "I want to... fight until the end... I will protect the aniki... I don't want to let him die..." — The boy with the severed body said.

Muichiro nodded. — "Alright, let's fight together until the end. Now... we have to find and kill the demon woman."

"Kill me? How cute..." (Name) mentally chuckled.

Kokushibo and Gyomei clashed and Sanemi did her best to stop the mist from doing anything to itself while he fixed his injuries. Rising with hate in his eyes now with his mark activated.

— "It doesn't matter..." — Kokushibo counterattacked Gyomei. — "Even if we stay here... fighting for hours and hours... you will die anyway. After all... (Name) will absorb all of you through the mist little by little..."

So they had time. Gyomei thought along with Sanemi, who returned to the fight.

— "(Name)?" — Gyomei whispered, it must probably be the other demon he sensed, but he wasn't able to locate it thanks to the mist.

— "It's the wife!" — Muichiro's voice sounded close by. — "She must be killed for the mist to disappear! Genya and I will take care of her!"

Gyomei and Sanemi seemed to agree, even though the woman was nowhere to be seen.

Sanemi smiled and positioned. — "Good thing we did that training, huh Himejima-san?!"

— "Uhm."

"Kokushibo, (Name), how many hashiras have you two defeated? Don't let them get here yet."

Muzan's voice was heard by the demons. And (Name) tried to intensify her mist even more to help Kokushibo finish it soon, which required more concentration.

Whatever they were, it was the first time (Name) had seen such skilled hunters since the sengoku era.

For a moment she felt her pulse tremble, but soon she regained her composure as she felt that the real fight was only beginning after Kokushibo's sword extended absurdly.

Meanwhile, Oyakata-sama's sisters tried to observe the situation, but it was impossible thanks to the mist. But it was still possible to feel the tremor of the intense fight that was taking place.

Muichiro was trying to sense the presence of the other demon, looking for it through the mist behind some trail and even using the mist of his own breath to notice certain differences.

That's when he finally found her standing in the distance. (Name) was motionless and her hair was extremely taut, swaying and floating as if wind was blowing at it. Soon Muichiro noticed that strands of her hair were connected and fused with mist, which seemed to form from the ends.

The young Hashira tried to attack her as quickly as possible, she showed no reaction when Muichiro's blade was almost slicing through the woman's neck. That's when she opened her eyes and the boy felt chills as she stared straight at him.

— "Very slow."

Muichiro's blade slashed through (Name)'s neck as if he had tried to cut through a cloud. Muichiro fell to the ground not far away but tried to reposition himself again.

"I lost an arm and the bleeding is getting worse. I don't have much time." He thought.

Despite this, (Name)'s neck remained intact.

— "Stop looking at me, your face brings back memories, I don't want to remember..." — (Name) sighed, looking away.

Again Muichiro tried to use his breath to try to injure the woman, but to no avail, his blade continued to pierce through her body as if (Name) was made from the mist itself.

— "Your breathing... is quite interesting... matches my kekkijutsu."

Before (Name) could counterattack Muichiro, she felt her body being pierced by something small.

— "Hmm?" — She looked down and saw a small, round-shaped hole in the region of her right forearm.

Soon her body was trapped by roots.

"My body isn't going through this fucking tree..." (Name) mentally growled.

When she looked up she saw in the distance the same severed boy from before, who had consumed some of Kokushibo's hair and sword. The next moment he disappeared from there to help the Stone Hashira and Wind.

That feeling…she didn't like it at all.

Thanks to the conflict with (Name) the mist started to become unstable again, to the point that Muichiro was now able to see the fight involving the other male demon with the other three slayers.

The moment Kokushibo screamed, (Name) could feel that he felt the same way.

The woman glared at Muichiro and tried to make her mist rip him apart once and for all, but the boy managed to counterattack at the last moment with his own mist breath.

— "Your..."

"Okaa-san!"

— "...Huh?"

— "I..." — Muichiro stood up panting after (Name) was able to escape Genya's kekkijutsu. — "I didn't say anything… — He gritted his teeth.

That slayer's face... it was so familiar. It was identical to--

— "Okaa-san!" — The little boy laughed as he hugged his mother from behind.

— "..." — (Name) shivered. — "Stop looking at me..."

Muichiro advanced.

(Name)'s face seemed to fill with hatred and a wave of mist went towards Muichiro. — "I TOLD YOU TO TURN YOUR LOOK, TSUKIHIRO!"

Muichiro was able to dodge the attacks again, but one of them ended up ripping his leg off. But at the last moment his blade managed to reach (Name)'s neck as it turned red.

That face...

It's been over four hundred years... and for the first time, she remembered her son's face.

— "(NAME)!"

Half of Muichiro's body was severed, not by the mist, but by Kokushibo's blade.

The boy's body, still alive, fell to the ground, just as (Name's) head separated from her body to also fall to the ground.

The mist began to disappear definitively along the body of (Name), who was looking at Muichiro with tears in her eyes.

— "Tsuki... hiro..." — She whispered.

Muichiro used the last of his strength to drag himself to the woman's body and placed one of his hands under her back, silently. (Name) accepted this act.

Despite still being under threat from the other three slayers, Kokushibo watched (Name) disappear with silent tears welling up in his six eyes. The woman he loved was dying, and he couldn't change that.

The last thing (Name) saw before her head totally disappeared was Gyomei's destruction ball destroying Kokushibo's head, but instead of disappearing, he turned into a monster.

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(Name)'s eyes opened in a dark place that she knew was not her mist.

She turned her face in all directions in an attempt to find something or someone. Oh wait, that's right... she died. Is this the afterlife?

(Name) felt her arms get heavy and when she looked down, her eyes started to water as she saw what she was holding.

— "Tsuyami..." — The woman smiled in a whisper and hugged the baby.

Tsuyami... Unlike Tsukihiro, (Name) didn't see the baby go past the age of a newborn, which hurt her a lot just thinking about it. She must have aged and become a beautiful woman, (Name) prayed that she had found a good husband with children who loved her.

— "Okaa-san!"

This voice...

The four-year-old boy came running towards (Name) happily, hugging her by the legs.

— "Tsukihiro..." — (Name)'s tears began to stream down her face.

Tsukihiro's merry laughs and Tsuyami's babble filled that dark place.

The boy from before... Muichiro, was a descendant of Tsukihiro. Your lovely son, who must have grown into a gentle boy as he grew older.

— "We missed you!" — Tsukihiro smiled.

(Name) looked at him with sad eyes. — "Me too..."

The woman started to feel her arms become lighter as Tsuyami and Tsukihiro's bodies disappeared into a mist, leaving her there alone again. (Name) knelt down and leaned her face down with her hair falling over her and hugging herself. Now the sound of her tears and wailing was the only thing that could be heard there.

Of course, the woman would go to hell for the things she did. Her children were kind souls who should be kept in heaven.

Then she would be alone, all right… she would accept that.

— "(Name)...?"

Kokushibo's voice made the woman's face rise again.

If he's here... it means he lost too.

Her husband was in front of her, not Kokushibo, but Michikatsu. Now both of them are human again.

— "Michi..." — (Name) cried.

The man was quick to kneel in front of her and pull her into a protective hug. — "I'm sorry…" — He also cried. — "For everything... I'm sorry for everything... please forgive me..."

— "It wasn't your fault... you never forced me to do anything... everything I did for the last four hundred years was because I wanted to do it..." — Her head was against Michikatsu's chest, hugging her husband back.

— "If only I had never done that… if only I had never allowed all that hatred and envy to consume me…" — The man's embrace tightened a little more. — "Maybe you could have watched our children grow up! If only I hadn't made so many mistakes... maybe we both could have been happy..."

— "..." — (Name) held her husband's face and wiped away his tears. — "It's okay…" — She laughed even though her eyes were still sad. — "I think we were both idiots..."

Michikatsu was silent, but then he also gave a melancholy short laugh, and leaned his lips against his wife's forehead, pressing her even more against him in the embrace.

Then everything was covered by flames.

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There wasn't much to do, after all, from the very beginning happiness had already been denied to the two demons who were looking for power.

"CAW CAW! UPPER MOON ONE DEFEATED!"

In the infinito fortress, inside the huge cocoon of flesh, Muzan can't help but close his eyes and give a short laugh.

— "How pathetic."

8574 words

[mhysa-leesi]

му вℓσσ∂у ναℓєηтιηє

{Gif Source} {Gif Source 2}

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers 𝒳 (femme) Reader 🩸.

Summary: "Steve Rogers is madly in love with you and he'll do anything for you to see that--no matter who gets in his way."

Word Count: 4,765 (Sorry, this is a long one!)

TW‼: Non-Con, Smut, Stalking, Yandere Themes, Murder (Description of Side-Character Death), Blood, Description of Gore, and Strong Language. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI‼

AN: This story contains adult and dark themes, please do not proceed if you are under the age of 18 or if ANY of these warnings upset you! I am not responsible for your media consumption–you and only you are. Also, I used one of the prompts from (@the-modern-typewriter) to describe a character's death, ALL CREDIT GOES TO THEM. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

AN Cont.: If you or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual violence, please reach out for help. I do not condone ANY of the actions described in this story, this is merely a work of FICTION.

The first love letter was delivered on a gloomy Friday afternoon. The clouds above the city were dark and full of frigid torrents of rainfall. Gold and scarlet autumn leaves whispered against the chilly winds as acorns scattered about; rolling and cracking underfoot as you made your everyday walk to work. You had chosen to stray from your usual route that day, deciding on a new corner coffee shop instead of your normal stop.

You remembered that day clearly, as if it had happened just yesterday. The new coffee shop was a small, hole in the wall with plastic vines of ivy and fairylights rimming the framework of the inside. You ordered rich and dark coffees, with creamy oat milk for you and your coworkers, and an apple pecan oatmeal cookie for yourself.

Your workday was seemingly the same as any other. Pam was gossiping with Susan, and Scott was hiding from Mark, your manager, in the breakroom. You remember you were seated at your cubicle when things turned, staring at the rain against the window, and tapping your pen against your notepad, when you were startled by the mail carrier. He handed you a single, pink envelope with a heart stamp on its flap and left with a mumbled “you’re welcome”. You frowned as there was no return address or other name besides yours. You had opened it anyway.

You remembered how your frown had deepened as your stomach dropped. The paper trembled in your hands as you stared at the small heart sketched at the bottom. You frantically looked around the office for any sign of a joke, hoping to see one of your coworkers giggling at your shocked reaction. But everyone had their noses deep into their screens, typing away at their work. You turned the letter over, looking for a name or a clue as to who had sent it. But it was blank.

And you remembered how you had crumpled up the letter and tossed it as you refocused and finished the rest of that workday.

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Weeks passed before you got another mysterious love letter delivered to your desk, a small bouquet of roses and baby’s-breath with it. And again, you crumpled it up and threw it away; leaving the flowers in the breakroom. You had made a mental note that day to talk to the mailman about the delivery of these letters.

For a time they stopped and you thought you were out of the woods or thought your secret admirer had lost interest at the very least. But you were wrong. Your third envelope had been waiting for you in your mailbox when you had gotten home from work one Monday evening. You didn’t bother opening it as you sent it straight to the garbage.

You were growing paranoid and antsy as you constantly looked over your shoulder. You’d freeze every time you came across an envelope, even if it was just your monthly rent notice or bank statement. You had refused to live like this, in a constant state of anxiety and fear, so, that’s how you found yourself moving into a new apartment across town.

You were met with months of peace, you were finally readjusting to life before the letters. You had even moved in with someone you had been seeing from your new job, Chris. He was perfect, someone straight from a romance novel; tall, dark, and handsome, with a taste for adventure and romance. You were happy with him--you were in love and had long since decided that if Chris were to ask you to marry him, you’d say yes in a heartbeat.

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Today was your anniversary with Chris, and the two of you had an entire evening planned. Dinner at your favorite restaurant, a surprise showing of your favorite movie at the corner cinema, and then home, where you’d give him his gift. A red lacy lingerie set with fuzzy handcuffs, and a silk blindfold to match.

Your heart skipped and your stomach alighted with butterflies as you touched up your makeup in the bathroom mirror. The evening had been absolutely perfect and it was about to get even better. You stepped out into the bedroom, dressed in nothing but red lace and a bathrobe. A spritz of perfume here and a mint there, and you were ready to go surprise your man.

You walked out into the living room and seductively leaned against the wall, watching as he poured two glasses of red wine. He turned and froze, swallowing hard as he abandoned the drinks on the kitchen counter. You smirked as he pulled you to him by your hips, instantly locking his lips to yours. He looked down at you through his eyelashes, his deep brown eyes darkened with lust, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips once more.

Your eyes closed and moaned as he peppered kisses along the curve of your neck, tilting your head back to give him better access. His hands roamed your body hotly, squeezing and caressing your dips and curves. Chris entangled his hands in your hair as he moved you to the counter, lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. He pushed your robe down your shoulders to reveal the red lace hidden underneath, and with a groan, he bent to trace the rosette lacework that covered your breasts with his tongue. You hummed and wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands running down his back to toy with the bottom hem.

Chris gently pushed you down to an angle as he kissed down your body, stopping just below your navel to wink up at you. You bit back a laugh as you wiggled your hips impatiently as you leaned back on your hands. With your fingers splayed against the wooden countertop, your touch met something smooth and waxy--like the waxy seal of an envelope. You reached behind you and grabbed a pink envelope, with a wax stamp of a heart on its flap. Your heart seemed to stop as you stared at the envelope in your hands.

You vaguely felt Chris’s lips on your inner thighs, kissing and nipping at your skin. When he heard no reaction from you, he looked up, his brows furrowed and eyes full of questions.

“What’s that?” he asked, “You wrote me a love letter, too?” he winked as he reached for it.

You jerked it away from his grasp, your heart hammering in your chest as you ripped open the flap; ripping the waxy heart in half.

P.S. You should really lock your windows, doll. You jumped off the counter and ran to the windows, each one was locked--except for one. You locked it and double-checked its strength, fighting against the lock as you tried to open it.

“Babe? (Y/N),” Chris said sternly, snapping you out of your trance.

You looked at him now. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t think of how to form the words. You wanted to say everything was fine and okay, but it wasn’t--it was far from it. Whoever had been writing and sending you these knew where you lived now, and that scared you. After months of trying so hard to move on from this, you felt as if you were right back at square one again.

The rest of the night was unclear to you. You moved like a zombie, your brain on autopilot as you crawled into bed to hide under the covers until the morning sun rose. Chris asked questions, of course. But you had no answers for him. You had no idea who had been writing them and had absolutely no clue how they had found you again.

Chris had suggested going to the police, but what could they do? No one had physically harassed you, and although creepy, the letters weren’t threatening. And not to mention, you had thrown away most of your evidence. You were at a loss. Chris was supportive, always there to comfort you during the night when you were restless, but that never kept you from feeling alone.

Your paranoia increased tenfold by the end of that week. You changed your daily routine every few days, hoping that’d throw your stalker off your trail, but it never did. They always seemed ten steps ahead of you, whereas you struggled to even think to keep up with them. Your breaking point was reached on Sunday evening as you met with one of your old friends from high school for breakfast-dinner--an old tradition you two had decided to revive for the night.

Things were going good, and you even dared to forget about your own issues as you cut into your syrup-soaked pancakes. Madison was telling you about her newest fling and how good he was in the sack, and you genuinely found yourself happy to listen to the vulgar details. After painting you a vivid picture of her sex life, Madison excused herself to the restroom; leaving you alone with your pancakes and empty cup of iced coffee.

You saw a head of electric blue hair and you perked up. Your waitress came with a smile and handed you a paper cup of steaming coffee and a single napkin.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” you said with a polite smile.

“A gentleman ordered this for you,” she winked before walking away.

You frowned as you looked at the writing on the napkin. Refusing to even acknowledge the cup of coffee in front of you.

Your mouth went dry as you stared at the familiar handwriting. Brown dress, he knew what you were wearing--he was here. You shot to your feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, as you looked around frantically, ignoring all of the judgemental looks and hushed whispers you were getting.

“You okay, (Y/N)?” asked Madison, her brows knitted in concern.

“Yeah,” you lied, “I just… I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ll call you later, Mads.”

You dug through your wallet and gave a twenty to your waitress on your way out, only stopping to yell over your shoulder for her to keep the change. You practically ran home from the restaurant as your anxiety started to settle in your bones, making you heavy with unease. You called Chris, but were only met with his voicemail. The elevator ride up to your floor was tortuous as you watched the floor numbers slowly light up one by one until finally, they stopped at your floor. You panted as you slammed the door shut behind you, sliding the lock and chain in place as you dropped your head to rest against the wooden frame.

You sniffled as the words from his letter were seared into your eyelids. You just wanted him to leave you alone, you didn’t know what you did to catch his eye, and worst of all, you didn’t know how to make it stop. You choked on your hiccupped breaths as tears streaked down your cheeks. When you finally calmed down you switched on the lights and finally turned around…

You stared at Chris in horror. Blood drenched the entire living room, his corpse sat limp in a chair like a broken, bloody doll. His throat and wrists had been slashed. You tried to hold your hand over the open wounds as you screamed for help, but no matter the pressure you applied, the blood still gushed and seeped through your fingers, oozing down your arm, and dripping from your elbow. The gore of it all brought waves of nausea that went beyond physical retching, the sickness you felt was indescribable. But the smell, the smell was something much worse. Metallic, iron, copper… Your ears started to ring. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe. You could only stare at the bloodstain on your hands and scream.

You left that following weekend, abandoning the big city to move back in with your parents and younger sister. You spent most of your days locked in your room, hiding from the world under the comfort of your blanket and drawn curtains. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. You’d look at yourself in the mirror and cry as you no longer recognized yourself as the woman you once were. You knew it was time to move on, but you couldn’t, not when you’d see Chris’s bloodied body every time you’d close your eyes.

You started small by taking baby steps toward your recovery. It started with family meals, then a cashier job at your local supermarket, shopping trips with your mother and sister. Then you eventually graduated to therapy, where you’d stare at a forest green ceiling as you reclined on the chaise longue. Therapy helped and it was admittedly one of the better moments of your monotonous days, you felt heard, seen, as you walked through your own thoughts and nightmares. Your appointments even inspired you to reach out to Chris’s parents for closure, to go with them to visit their son’s grave. It was bittersweet, leaving behind a bouquet of roses for the man you had loved so deeply instead of a kiss goodbye; but it was something you knew you’d have to come to terms with. It wasn’t your fault, that was the mantra you’d tell yourself when you’d catch glimpses of his blood on your hands.

Before you knew it a year had passed since the incident, and in that year, you had not received one letter. You had made a resolution for the first time that New Year’s Eve as you waited for the midnight ball to drop. You told yourself you’d forget, to start fresh, and become an even better version of yourself. You were a flower that was fighting against all odds to blossom.

You cut your hair, got bangs and highlights. Saved up for a brand new, off-the-lot car. And moved into a cozy apartment with your sister. Things were looking up for you and you truly believed that you had finally found your way out of the woods. But life had a habit of playing cruel tricks on those who were naive enough to believe such a thing.

It was mid-February, just a few days before Valentine’s Day, when things started to go to shit. You had just come back from the gym with your sister when you saw it. A pink envelope with no return address or any other name besides yours, with a wax seal in the shape of a heart on the back flap, sat on your pillow. It felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as you held it in your hands. You debated on throwing it away, on pretending you never received it. But you wanted to know what more this twisted bastard could have to say. You ripped it open and read.

You didn’t hesitate as you ripped the letter to shreds, throwing the pieces into the garbage with an angry grunt. Delusional piece of deranged shit, you thought. You raked through your brain for the millionth time since your first letter, trying to figure out who the fuck could possibly be the sender, but you came to the same conclusion you had been coming to for years--nothing. It was agonizing, not knowing who your torturer was. It was your shadow, how could you not know who was living in it? But, no matter how hard you thought, you kept drawing blank after blank.

Your sister comforted you with a glass of wine and dumplings from the takeout place up the street. She was going out tonight, but offered to stay home with you instead.

“No,” you shooed, “I’ll be fine, I’m a big girl.”

“You sure?” she frowned, “It’s no big deal, Girls Night is every Friday night, I can always go next week.”

“I’m fine. Go and have fun for the both of us,” you said as you waved her away.

She left a few minutes later, dressed in heels and a short skirt. You ate the rest of the dumplings and finished the bottle of wine before calling it a night. You undressed down to your underwear and threw on an oversized t-shirt and plopped down onto the bed with an unceremonious bounce. The wine coursing through your system made it easier than usual to fall asleep, and the next thing you knew, you were in a deep sleep, dreaming of a life with Chris--of a life without the letters. It was one of those good dreams you wished you’d never wake from.

Which was why you were so annoyed when a loud noise startled you awake. You looked at your phone and the time read “1:00 AM”, you frowned, it was too early for your sister to be back already. You padded along the hallway, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you called out for her, worried she might’ve passed out drunk on the floor or something. You stopped as you reached the front room--the very empty front room. Your heart started to pound as you stood frozen, staring at the empty room before you. A shuffling from behind caught your attention, then. And against your better instincts, you turned around slowly to see a shadowed silhouette of a man standing at the end of the hallway.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, just staring dumbstruck at the man. With every step he took toward you, you took one back. Inching closer and closer to the front door with every backward step.

“Doll, don’t,” he warned, his voice striking you with fear like a bolt of lightning.

Without a second thought, you ran toward the door, fumbling stupidly with the locks in your panicked state of mind. The man was on you in a flash, easily dragging you away from your pathetic attempt at escape. His arms slithered around you like snakes, their hold constricting as he locked an arm firmly around your neck, silencing your screams as you struggled to breathe. You slapped and clawed at his forearm as he pulled you back to your bedroom.

“Please be a good girl for me, (Y/N). I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he said against your hair.

With his arm still wrapped around your neck, he threw you down onto the bed, quickly straddling you before you could scramble to your feet. He pinned your arms above your head with one hand and forced you to look at him with the other. His face was illuminated by the moonlight. The silver shine highlighting his familiar eyes through the holes of his helmet. You froze as he pulled off his blue cowl.

You were beyond confused, to say the least. You stared up at Captain America, your brain working overtime to try and put the puzzle pieces together. What was Captain America doing in your apartment? And why had he called you “baby”? What the fuck was going on? Were you lucid dreaming? You must’ve looked as confused as you felt because he smiled down at you, gently promising you answers to the questions that you hadn’t yet asked.

“You’re even more beautiful up-close, doll,” he said as he brushed away hairs that fell in your face from your struggle.

Your eyes widened. Doll. The nickname sent chills down your spine as the word flashed against the pink color of the envelopes, against the red of spilled blood.

“You…”

He ran a finger down your cheek and nodded, “Me.”

You paled under him, your bottom lip trembling as you shook your head in disbelief. He frowned and hushed you, caressing your cheek and wiping away the tears that fell.

“Shh… Don’t cry, baby,” he cooed, “I’ll take good care of you, you don’t need to cry.”

“W–Why?” you hiccupped through your sobs, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you, (Y/N),” your stomach dropped as he answered you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, “No. No! You’re Captain America. You’re supposed to be a hero!”

You fought against his grip, flailing and kicking wildly as you tried in vain to get away from him. You trashed against him, kicking against his thighs with all of your strength, but it was nothing to him--nothing but an annoying inconvenience.

“Stop,” he said, his jaw ticking with simmering anger.

But you refused to stop. You whined and fought against him.

“Stop,” he repeated, his anger coming to a rolling boil.

You shot up and headbutted him. He reeled back and glowered down at you, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared.

“I said stop,” he shouted as he finally stilled you with a sharp slap.

The sound was as sharp as the feel of it. You sobbed as the pain stung your skin, the right side of your face becoming numb from the harsh impact of it.

“Why are you doing this, Steve?” you asked again.

“Because I love you,” he answered again, “I know you love me, too, (Y/N).”

“No,” you exclaimed, “I don’t love you! I don’t love you! I don’t love you!” you sobbed.

“You will,” Something seemed to change within his eyes. No longer were there hints of green in his blue eyes, but something much darker… Something more sinister. You swallowed as you shrunk under his intense glare.

You exclaimed as he forced his lips against yours. Squeezing your jaw until he could slip his tongue into your mouth. You pushed against him, beating on his shoulders as he shoved his tongue further down your throat. He pulled away, breathless and flushed, a ghost of a content smile on his face. You gasped and tried to wiggle away once more, rolling onto your stomach as you did so. A yelp escapes you as you feel him grab your hips, pulling you back under him.

Steve puts his weight on you, trapping you underneath him as he begins to undress you. You try to roll onto your back, but his knee keeps you in place. You fight to keep your shirt on, knowing you wore nothing but your panties underneath it. But you were fighting blind. You kicked up, the heels of your feet hitting the backs of Steve’s strong thighs. He manhandles you easily as he rolls you onto your back, finally ridding you of your cotton shield.

Your hands went to your chest before he could. He pried your arms away, baring your breasts to him with a jerked jiggle. He licked his lips as he cupped and squeezed your breast. You flinched as if his touch had burned you, and in some sense, it had. Your eyes widened in shame as Steve blew on your nipples, the skin hardening into pointed peaks. He brings his lips to them, circling them with his tongue. Sucking, licking, pinching. You press your lips together to keep you from whimpering, and you close your eyes in hopes you can will him away. But your feeble defense attempts don’t last long.

Your eyes snap open as you feel his lips leave your breasts to trail kisses down to your navel, stopping at the band of your underwear.

“Please…” you beg. You bite your lip to keep it from trembling as fresh tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes.

Steve smiles against your skin, “I’m going to make you mine, (Y/N). ‘M gonna make you feel so good, doll.”

You stifle a sob as you feel him slide your panties off past your ankles, his fingers scorching your skin as they explore back up between your thighs. Instinctively, you try to close your legs around his hands. But he doesn’t stop. Steve digs his fingers into the soft skin of your inner thighs as he forcefully spreads you wide. Your pussy on full display to him. You stiffen under his gaze, your face burning with shame as he stares in awe at your spread folds. He runs a finger from your clit to your entrance, dipping knuckle-deep into your channel. Your thighs flex as your body tenses at the intrusion. He adds another and languidly pumps them in and out, curling and scissoring them. You fight against the blossoming heat within your belly. Your shame grows as you hear the squelch of your wetness around his pumping fingers.

Steve presses a firm thumb to your clit and you cry out before you can stop yourself. He pumps his fingers into you harder, faster, as he pulls more moans and cries from your lips. You sob as you feel that coil deep within your belly begin to unravel with every stroke and pump. You fight against your own body as you keep yourself from teetering over the edge of pleasure, refusing to let yourself submit to him. But Steve had other plans for you. Suddenly, before you could register his movements, you felt his tongue against your most intimate area. You mewled and curled your toes as he fucked you with his tongue, his thumb never stopping their firm and fast circles against your clit. You sobbed as your body convulsed with white-hot pleasure, and before you could stop yourself, you came on his tongue with a loud, dragged out moan.

You sniffled as you cried, but whether it was from the intensity of your orgasm or your shame and fear, you didn’t know. The lines were starting to blur for you.

Steve gently kissed around your folds before crawling up over you. He held your face and forced your lips to his once more before he began to undress, leaving the taste of yourself on your tongue as he pulled away with a wet smack. He unclothed himself, then. Stripping himself of his spangled-stars and red and white stripes. He looked down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes, and a breathless quirk of his lips.

You were limp as he folded you to his needs. Bringing your bent and spread knees to your chest as he took himself in his hands. His length stood tall and proud, the tip swollen and leaking down this thick shaft with anticipation. Your legs flinched as they tried to close on their own. You choked on a sob as he wrenched them apart. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him tap your pussy with his cock, running the tip up and down your folds as he wet himself with your soaking arousal until finally, he pressed himself into your entrance. You let out a strained whine as he slammed into you.

Steve’s eyes were shut and mouth slightly agape as he hisses at your tightness. His hips thrust in excitement as you clench around him. You whimper again as he slides out, just to slam himself back in. Your body jolts with every lust-driven thrust. He slides his hands under you and brings them to hold onto your shoulders, bringing you down to meet his every forceful thrust. The sound of skin slapping and lewd moans fill your bedroom, your sweat sheen bodies glowing under the moonlight. Steve speeds up, mercilessly hammering that hidden sweet spot that makes you scream and clench around his cock. You spasm and shake as Steve forces another orgasm from you.

“Tell me you love me,” he pants.

You shake your head, pushing on his shoulders as the realization of your situation comes crashing back into you.

His hand wraps around your throat as he pounds into you harder than before, “Say it, (Y/N).”

You scratch at his hand as your vision begins to dot and blacken, “I–I love you…”

“Louder,” he demands, “‘I love you, Steve’, say it, doll, I wanna hear you say it.” he moans.

“I love you, Steve,” you choke out.

He releases his grip on you then, and you cough and gasp for air. His rhythm becomes erratic as his hips drive into you with renewed vigor, “Again.”

“I love you, Steve,” you moan.

His body jerks as his hips stutter to a stop. Steve comes with your name on his lips, and you whined as you felt his warmth flood inside of you. He panted above you, his hips languidly thrusting as his abdomen clenched with his drawn out release. He pulled out of you and collected the spunk that leaked from your weeping cunt on his fingers. He brought them to your lips and forced you to suck them clean.

“I love you, too, doll. Forever and ever,”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*тαgℓιѕт*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧: @hoosier-daddi