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blackynsupremacy · 3 months ago

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THERE’S SOMETHING

ABOUT YOU.

CHAPTER 1

pairing: smallville!clark kent x blackfem!oc

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

guest starring: aaliyah haughton as lyric james

summary: ever since lana lang has moved in with the sullivan’s, clark kent’s nightly telescopic views of the galaxy and daily glimpse of the sunrise tend to get lonelier. that is until a moving truck, a wandering amicable feline, and her frustrated owner, lyric james, makes her debut in his life as her family are the new owners of the old potter house next door. things between the new neighbors start to shift as clark is tasked as her personal tour guide at her new school. one little slip is all it takes for her to learn he’s more than meets the eye in this small town.

contains: lots of words,neighbors to friends, slow burn, martha lowkey being the hookup, snarky teens, some swearing, fluff, friendly banter, a bit of angst. lyric’s thoughts. clark’s thoughts.

taglist: @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez @sabrinasopposite @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @zombiehe4rt

next: CHAPTER 2

it was around 8:30 PM on a friday night as clark kent gazed at the stars through his telescope in his “fortress of solitude”. it was just his loft in the barn, but he never forgot how lana lang coined that term for this sacred space of his. lana was known as the typical girl-next-door and the cheerleader dating the captain of smallville high’s football team, whitney fordman, and clark’s first love. well—it’s crazy how things can change so rapidly. lana quit cheerleading to own the talon, whitney was killed while following in his late father’s footsteps to serve this country, and she wasn’t the girl-next-door anymore. she had to move in with one of clark’s best friends, chloe sullivan and her father, gabe because her aunt nell’s new husband wanted to move the family out of smallville, but lana refused to leave it all behind. one thing that didn’t change was clark’s love and admiration towards the girl.

the loft wasn’t just his space where he’d go to think or look into space. he also shared it with her. whether it’d be using the telescope to admire her from afar, having late night talks, or watching the sunrise together. you’d think with this much time spent with someone, clark would finally have the gusto to officially ask lana out. he has tried, but between the obstacles of figuring out his heritage, keeping his abilities a secret, not wanting to hurt others feelings, and his cowardice of opening up to his loved ones, his chances with her all went to hell.

lana’s tasks at the talon were getting busier by the day and she still had her load of class work to tend to, so her visits to the loft for sunrises or meaningful conversations weren’t as frequent. it’s been getting quite lonely here. a deep sigh escapes from clark’s chest as he takes a step back from the telescope, both hands tucked within his pockets. his blue eyes peer at the dark sky that was softly lit with luminous stars that goes beyond this planet he’s come to know and love. his longing for the answers concerning his heritage grow stronger and impatient as his thoughts trail back to the aircraft that’s hiding in the cellar. he wished that this burden wouldn’t have to be so much. he understood that his parents, jonathan and martha, didn’t want to lose their miracle child if he found out where he came from or if the world knew of his powers, they would experiment, exploit, or worse, treat him like an outcast. it’s already hard enough on clark that his best friend, pete ross, knew. they’ve worked it out once he’s sworn his secrecy to the kents and their friendship seemed to be stable, but deep down he knew that pete would never really get used to that. clark just wanted someone—no, anyone to understand his intentions. whether they’re a human or not. why did i have to come down to this planet? what happened on my planet that was so bad that i literally crashed into the quiet lives of this town? why—

clark’s train of thoughts came to a halt and his heightened sense of hearing caught the sound of revving engines and purring wheels coming into the direction of the neighborhood, but not directly to his home. both of the vehicles make a stop and park at their destination. one of the vehicles is a u-haul moving truck the other, resembling what might be a white honda civic. this stop wasn’t an ordinary stop either. it seemed that the destination was—the old potter house. was it possible that nell had changed her mind? did lana know about this? could things go back to the way they were? clark had to pause for a second because he didn’t recognize the car at first, so he looks back into the telescope to investigate further.

it was pitch dark outside to see who exactly were operating the vehicles, so clark knew what he had to do to find out. his eyes focused on the closely on the u-haul, he could clearly see the boxes and luggage near the rear end before his x-ray vision travels towards the front. in the driver’s seat, he could see the outline of a human skeletal figure, stretching their arm muscles and reaching for the seatbelt. his pupils shifted to the car parked behind the truck. there were three figures this time. one sitting in the drivers side, the other in the passenger with their head leaning against the window, and third that seemed to be curling up on the passengers lap which clark assumed to be a pet. the driver taps the passenger’s shoulder to signal them to wake up before they open the doors.

with the low quantity of streetlights near kent farm, it was still difficult to see clearly, but clark was positive he saw three different silhouettes with three different voices as he watched them exit the vehicles. the tallest silhouette was definitely an older male with a deep voice muttering as he made his way to the front door before fishing the key out of his pocket to gain access to the house.

“come on now, girls! this house won’t be moved in by itself. let’s at least get what we need for the night and start fresh in the morning, alright?” he commands before stepping into the house. the next silhouette was slightly shorter than the first and the soft, alto voice was of an older female followed by the final silhouette who had a similar voice to hers, but it definitely sounds like a person of around clark’s age. she appears to be holding a bundle tucked securely in her arms. her own sigh resonates in the night air, her posture deflating with exhaustion.

“man, if i have to move another muscle, i swear i’ma fall apart.” the youngest of the three groggily protested as she dragged her feet forward.

“your father’s right! the faster we get things done, the faster we can go to bed, get some rest and greet our new neighbors in the morning. i’d suggest you put that cat down somewhere and pick up those feet, young lady. we don’t have time for all that whining, now.” the older female firmly responds as she beckons the younger to follow her into the house.

“yes, mama. just—let me put the princess in my room and i’ll be right down with ya’ll. god knows i’m beat.” all three figures trudge their way into the now lit house and close the door.

clark lets the conversation cut there before he takes some paces away from telescope.

it looks like we’re getting new neighbors. i’ll make sure to tell mom and dad in the morning.

he turned off the light switch before descending down the stairs to retire for the night.

lyric james huffs out in relief as her spine finally makes contact with her lavender comforter set delicately draped over the air soft mattress of her new bed, in her new room, of her new house, and in a new town. the bare walls were illuminated with the amber glow of the ivory bedside lamp she recently installed. her closet was about a quarter full and the drawers had the essentials like undergarments and socks, but there were two things she couldn’t live without for one night: grandad’s record player and noir. speaking of noir, lyric could hear the soft patter of paws treading on the hardwood floors and an audible mew of the feline. she got the strength to lift herself upright to look down and find noir staring back at the girl with those large round, yellow-green eyes and her fuzzy,black tail swaying across the floor as if she were waiting for her owner to carry her as she did before they stepped into the new house.

lyric chuckled at her cat, shaking her head. although it was a tired smile, her dimples made a prominent appearance within her toffee skin. “girl, i know i got you spoiled rotten—can’t even get up on the bed without needing an escort.” she reached her arms below to scoop noir up into her bed before laying vertically with her head against her plush pillows and a fair number of stuffed animals. lyric adjusted, so that one hand was underneath the white, paisley bandana wrapped to protect her hair and the other, tenderly stroking noir’s dark coat of fur as the cat nuzzled on her torso. her brown eyes shifted to see the red glowing digits of the time set on her alarm clock. 10:30. i really need to sleep, so i can move all of that junk tomorrow. thank god it’ll be a saturday. her chest raised slowly to deflate as she sat alone with her thoughts. i miss new york already. what’s so interesting about this itty, bitty hill billy town anyway? what does a place like smallville have to offer?

let’s rewind that real quick. lyric james was a born and (formerly) raised native from new york. she’s currently a sophomore with a love for old vinyl records, talking junk, eating sweets, going out with friends (well the ones she had back home), impulsive shopping, and documenting core memories with her digital camera.

her voice was soft as rain and calm as her mother’s, one might say a sound like a voice of reason, but one shouldn’t get that confused with her being a pushover. when it comes to meeting new people, she’s not shy per say, but before opening up she needs to observe certain people. observe of how they speak, their body language, and just how they are as a person in general. if the vibe’s good, that’s what’s up! she’ll crack jokes, speak in fluent sarcasm, and maybe a bit of flirting when she gets the balls. if not, she’ll be cordial and respectfully keep her distance. she’s had moments of naivety in the past when it came to friendships causing her to get burned, but hey— she lived and she learned. that was her just her outlook on life: to live until you die. she was only a teenager, so she’s expected to screw up every once in a while, but when it came to having that common sense her parents instilled in her during childhood, she knows where the line should never be crossed.

her parents, crystal and joseph james, were suitable guardians and they supported lyric as well as nurtured her to be a well mannered young woman, but one thing that got her tight was their demanding work schedules. joseph worked as a firefighter and crystal, an er nurse. don’t get her wrong, she loved that her parents saved lives for the love of it and kept their lives afloat financially, but it also made lyric anxious. as an only child, she’s been with her parents for so long and she couldn’t imagine if something happened to one or both of them. hence why she had a curfew, even back in her hometown to make sure she’s home and near the phone just in case. the main reason why her parents decided to move to smallville was that it was safe. it wasn’t like smallville didn’t have crime going on, but it wasn’t as bad as new york. crystal and joseph knew that their daughter was left alone most of the time and they’d allowed for her to go out with friends and come back at a certain time, but the risk was too high for them to stay ever since—omar. fortunately, they had some colleagues recommend that smallville had some opening positions for their professions and that’s how they got here to get away from their past.

lyric felt her eyelids drooping lower as a yawn escaped from her mouth and reached over to the lamp switch to cease the glow in her room. careful not to wake noir, she shifted her body as carefully as she could to conceal herself under the sheets. she turned on her side, her knees curling up slightly in a fetal position as her bare feet rubbed against each other. her arms wrapped loosely around noir. the sounds of the feline’s low snores were enough to send lyric into a peaceful, calm slumber.

the rising sun of saturday crept in at around 7:15 AM. clark was used to being up this early. that’s farm life, but this was part of his daily routine to wake up, get dressed, and head to the loft to watch nature simply take its course. as he leaned his elbows against the window sill, his eyes of blue soaked up the harmonious mixture of the sky’s color palette of lavender, pink, tangerine, and gold. the clouds resembled the fluffiness of the cotton candy that was served at the fall festival every year. it was silent, but the wind hummed as it lightly tickled clark’s face and fanned his raven tresses with a breeze so gentle at just the right the temperature that he couldn’t help, but to close his eyes and inhale the morning within his lungs. he was sure this weekend was going to be the same: do some chores, hang out with his friends at the talon, run into lex luthor, or maybe fight off people who’ve been poisoned by those cursed green rocks like he’s some sort of superboy. you know, the usual. clark then had that sinking feeling within his stomach and that tiny weight of heaviness in his chest with visions of her.

i really wish lana was here. maybe she’d find some time to at least catch the end of this.

his eyes then traveled back to the house next door. the two vehicles and the “SOLD” sign out in the front yard confirmed to clark that the kents having new neighbors wasn’t a fever dream like he’d hoped. he didn’t really get to see the family clearly, but he remembered a father, a mother, and perhaps a daughter with a pet of some kind. he pondered on the details of where they came from, what they looked like, what were their personalities, and most importantly, were they prepared for what kind of town they’ve moved to given its bizarre history? well—clark, felt he was to blame for the bizarre part, but his parents reassured there was nothing no one could do to prevent it.

after the sun took its rightful place in the heavens, clark decided it was time to get a head start on his chores for the day. that was until he felt something nuzzle itself against his ankle and his ears picking up on the soft mewling sound that filled the silence of the loft. well—that’s new… he thought knowing that it was the norm for animals to be on the farm, but not this one. clark peered down to find two wide eyes of yellow-green that reminded him of the glow of a firefly in the darkness of july. they were attached to a tiny, furry head with a pink button nose, whiskers, and pointed ears all surrounded by onyx fur. one of clark’s brows raised and a grin curved on his lips as the feline continued to wrap around his or her tail around his leg some more. with blended knees, he squatted down low enough to meet the cat’s level to slowly, but gently reach his hand towards the nose first, so the cat could detect clark’s scent properly before giving him the green light to go any further. a dark paw stretches to lightly touch his hand before leaning a fluffy cheek in forward to nuzzle clark’s knuckles, indicating that he can proceed with his touch. clark couldn’t help, but to smile before taking both hands to enthusiastically pet this friendly little, black cat’s face.

“now, i wonder how you got yourself in here, huh? your owner must be pretty worried—“ he paused to check to see if the cat had a collar of any kind in which he came up short. geez, he at least wanted to know the feline’s gender without catching them off guard by picking them up. as if the cat read his mind, they rolled over on the hardwood floor to reveal the underside of their body. after a quick observation, clark figured out this feline was a female before she rolled over again to her original position on her belly.

“don’t worry, girl. you can stay up here until your owner comes back. for now, i’ll take care of you.” he simpered as his palm soothingly descended down the cat’s spine. noir couldn’t help, but to respond to this boy’s touch by filling the room with a satisfied purr as if she were in paradise. clark sighed with content before he realized that he now has to let his folks know about the new visitor. he ceases his petting and his tenor voice softly urges, “i’ll be right back, girl. you stay right here, okay? if you’re good, i’ll come back with a little treat for you. how does that sound?” he coaxed. she responds by mewling and laying on her stomach, tail swaying back and forth across the floor as she watches clark walk away and descend down the stairs of the barn and out to his home to find his parents conversing at the breakfast table in their kitchen. his father was sitting at the table reading the newspaper while his mother was preparing breakfast.

“morning dad! morning mom!” he hurriedly greeted his parents, jogging to the cabinet to retrieve a plastic bowl and the refrigerator, for some fresh milk.

“mornin’, son!” jonathan responds, his eyes still skimming the headlines. martha repeats the phrase back to her son, her eyes glancing up to see to him getting the items needed for cereal, but no spoon nor cereal. martha squints in curiosity as her mother’s intuition urges her to ask clark what he’s up to.

“hey, clark, if you want breakfast, i’m putting something together. are sure you just want cereal, dear?” she questions.

“nah, mom. i’m good just…uh, getting started with my chores. hey, did you know that a new family moved into nell and lana’s old house? i saw the truck come in late last night while i was in the loft. you guys were sleeping by then, but i didn’t want to wake you.” clark spoke, pouring the right amount of milk in the bowl and putting the carton back in the fridge. he didn’t instantly want to stall on the fact of the feline, but he definitely wanted keep his parents in the loop of their new neighbors first.

martha’s face responds in awe, her head nodding with a smile on her lips as she resumes to cooking and jonathan lowers the paper to get a better insight on the topic of the discussion.

“ah, right! i noticed the truck still parked when i looked out the window this morning. at first i thought nell had changed her mind for lana’s sake, but i saw a different man walk to his car. either way, it’s exciting to see some fresh, new faces around smallville, right jonathan?” martha inquired to include her husband. jonathan nodded in agreement,

“oh, yeah. they’re likely a friendly, hardworking family with good old fashioned values that happen to live right next to another average family: a farmer, his wife, and their herculean son with the strength of 2,000 men!” jonathan wise cracked, earning some laughter from his family.

clark’s infectious smile crept on his lips before he takes the bowl off the counter, careful not to spill it.

“very funny, dad! in the case of meeting fresh faces, the new ones i’ve met so far are covered in fur and whiskers. i was out at the loft just now and this black cat just snuck in.”

“oh, a cat? so that explains the bowl with no cereal. well, do you think it’s just a stray?” martha questioned, wiping her hands clean with a plaid, hand towel.

“where’s the cat now?” jonathan chimed in.

“ah—not really, she’s actually very friendly. i’ve tried to look for a collar, but she didn’t have one. look, i’m not saying i’m keeping her, but i think someone would be coming for her soon. she should still be waiting in the loft. until then, i want her to be taken care of before they come.” clark utters, gesturing to the bowl in his hand.

“that’s sweet of you, clark! i’m sure they would appreciate that. oh! just milk won’t do, sweetie. let me see if we have a can of tuna in here somewhere.” martha inwardly beamed as she turned to rummage through the pantry to retrieve a can of tuna. as she fetched a can opener, spoon, and a bowl, her heart couldn’t help to swell at her son’s benevolence. his desire to care for all species on a foreign planet made her feel more content of what happened in the fall of ‘89. sure there was some destruction, trauma, and long lasting negative outcomes, but clark would never fit in those categories. out of the can she scooped the meat into a bowl and handed it to clark.

“thanks, mom! i’ve learned from the best, you know.” he leant down to tenderly kiss the auburn head of his mother and made his journey outside to fulfill his promise to the amicable fur ball that was still waiting on her treat. once inside, he places the two bowls in front of her and it wasn’t a second later before she indulged in the food and drink.

little does this sneaky kitty know that her owner is about to cross paths with smallville’s main attraction.

lyric’s grogginess was short lived after waking up to find noir missing. she quickly sat up to look underneath the comforter to see if the onyx feline was at the foot of the bed. lyric knew that noir liked to sneak away and hide in other places of their old house, so what makes her think noir wouldn’t give this house a test drive for that same purpose? lyric moved the comforter to free herself and swung her feet to the side of the bed. she rubbed the sleep from eyes to get a clearer vision in order to see the red digits on her clock. it was approximately 8:00 am. as soon as the bare soles of her feet touched the floor, her knees followed suit to search under the bed.

“noir?” she called as her brown eyes searched and her head moved from left to right and vice versa, but noir was nowhere in sight. feeling a tad irked with her pet’s usual shenanigans, a huff erupted from her chest and her brows furrowed. lyric stood up to her feet and made her way to the closet only to find just her clothes on the hangers, no noir. lyric checked all the usual places upstairs where she would hide. bathroom? no. linen closet? nah. the den? negative. not even her own parents room provided lyric with the answer she desired.

“now, where the hell could she be?” she muttered lowly to herself under her breath. lyric knew better for her parents not to hear any type of profanity slip from her mouth. her ass would be grass, but so would noir’s if she didn’t pop her fuzzy head out in the next few minutes.

she was such in a tizzy trying to find her cat that she didn’t notice her mother, crystal, calling out for her from downstairs. lyric brought herself back to earth before she made her way down the steps and into the kitchen where she found crystal to be unpacking an open cardboard box and placing dishes, bowls, and cups in their respective cabinets. each item making a clanging sound as they were maneuvered out of the box.

“good morning, mama! where’s dad?” lyric hastily greeted and questioned as she also noticed the absence of her father. her doe eyes perused areas such as the floor, near the refrigerator, and under the tables. damnit, no such luck.

“good morning, honey! your father’s out at the station to settle some final paperwork before monday and running some errands for the house, but he should be back in time soon. we still have so much unpacking to do and meet our new neighbors, so get a move on to get dressed!

“hold up, don’t the ones living here already usually come to meet the new ones?” lyric’s nails reached to scratch her scalp as she raised her arched brow, piqued by the statement.

“yes, usually, but the unusual doesn’t always do harm.” crystal responded to her daughter before she turned around to see her still clad in her nightly attire. lyric hastily nods, her thoughts still running laps around her head.

“you sound like you’re in a rush. what’s wrong, baby?” she placed the items she was unpacking on the counter before she approached lyric.

“ma, have you seen noir? i’ve checked her usual spots and i can’t find her nowhere. i know she likes to sneak out my room every once and a while, but she stays in the house hiding and i keep coming up short— you’ve been down here for a minute, so maybe you’ve seen her tryin’ to get somethin’ to eat?”

“mmm—no. i’m sorry, i haven’t. it don’t help that we barely got any food to start with, my guess is noir went to search somewhere else for that. one thing about her, if she can’t get food here, she’ll get it somewhere else and you know how greedy she is the way you got her spoiled.” crystal chuckled as she heard lyric sigh out a defeated “if that ain’t the truth.” even though noir can be a handful, she adored her due to antics like this because let’s be real, a girl’s gotta eat!

“i just hope you remembered to put that collar back on her neck when we got here.”

lyric froze. her lips tighten as her eyes shut, inhaling and huffing out a breath of deeper frustration with herself before she realized that she didn’t put noir’s collar on when they settled in last night. she was so worn out from going back and forth to move in her essentials to her room, that it slipped her mind completely. now, she knows noir likes to wander a bit, but damn it! she never expected that cat to venture out in a whole new area. crystal took lyric’s silence and that pout on her face as a signal of negligence to complete the task, but she understood that it was late and the whole james family were even dead tired to get the rest of what they needed. a sympathetic smile rose on her full lips and her palms find their way to reassuringly massage the tensed muscles of her daughter’s shoulders.

“don’t worry. you know noir always finds her way back home, she wouldn’t dream of getting into some trouble without you, especially not too far away, so she may be closer than you think. now, i bet you’ll do the right thing and put that collar on as soon as you get her back?” crystal inquired with a playful tone, so lyric’s pout transformed to a lopsided grin, the dimples she inherited from her mother protruding as she giggled. in return for her mother’s wisdom, lyric pulled her into a bear hug and rested her chin on shoulder. this reminded her of the moments in her childhood when crystal would console lyric, whether she was taking her accountable or not.

“yes, ma’am—and i’m sorry for not handling my business. it won’t happen again, i swear.” she murmured near crystal’s ear and pulled back to face her again.

“you live and you learn. i’ll tell you this, instead of looking around in the house, how about going outside? you might find what you’re looking for. you can worry about unpacking the rest of your things later.” after giving lyric her cue to get started, crystal’s kissed her daughter’s cheek and ceased the embrace before finally disposing of the box that was emptied of its contents.

departing with a smile and nod, lyric rushed upstairs to her bedroom and opened the closet door to locate a presentable outfit that was not too laid back nor over the top, but something that was comfortable and fashionable enough to locate the missing noir. no matter what the occasion may be, lyric wasn’t gonna be too flashy nor look like she just rolled out of bed! she settled for an aqua blue top that was slightly cropped at the bottom to expose a bit of her abdomen with a mural of a geisha patterned with black, white, gold, and salmon. she paired this one pop of color with black cargo pants, black bomber jacket, and a classic pair of black chuck taylor’s. she placed the ensemble on the bed and left her bedroom to perform her hygienic ritual in the bathroom before returning to don her outfit for the day. lyric removed her scarf and adjusted her dark, long, natural hair to her liking with the heat of her straightening iron, the stroke her detangling brush, and the spritz of the heat protection spray to ease the guilt of damage. there was no harm in the addition of her signature eyeliner, mascara, and lastly—the brown lip liner and gloss combo painted on her full lips that were the icing on the cake of her everyday look. as for accessories, her ears were adorned with the cherished pair of golden hoops she was gifted for her 13th birthday, and the simple, black crossbody satchel that was her go to for whatever she needed for any journey.

“alright, ma. i’m going out to get your fast tail granddaughter back home!” lyric’s voice echoed out after jogging downstairs to wait by the front door to her crystal respond, “okay, honey! be safe and i love you. don’t stay out too long, now.” lyric reciprocates the farewell before bolting out of the door and into the front yard. it was a sunny day with a moderate fall-like temperature, not too hot nor too cold. her legs moved like clockwork as the falling leaves made a crunching sound beneath her sneakers. lyric squints and furrows her brows as she starts to look around the perimeter of the house, her mind started to go into overdrive mode, thinking of what that sneaky ass cat is up to. god, i just pray she’s not lost in a cornfield or behind a barn getting knocked up by some stray. now, i know i raised her better—but then again, i ain’t get her fixed.

after frantically searching all around the front and backyards, lyric made one more final decision before she could take her search further out into town: the next door neighbors. the chances were low, but never zero. besides, she was going to have to cross paths with them anyway. she took another deep breath and placed her hands in her jacket pockets as the autumn breeze picked up with her feet leading her to the home. it was a brisk 2 minute walk. she stopped and her head leaned up to read the hung up wooden sign that read, KENT FARM— and she wasted no time to walk on the property. to say it was just big was an understatement. as lyric ventured down the dirt path of the driveway, her eyes perused the land that possessed animals such as horses, cows, and pigs. she attempted to not contort her face at the new, pungent smells that filled her nose.

i don’t wanna be rude to these people, but ugh! this is nothing short of a farm. i’d better get used to this though.

the abode itself resembled the classic farmhouse with the white picket fence aesthetic. it was a vibrant, lemon yellow two story house with white trimming on the windows and a welcoming porch with white, wooden steps that creaked as lyric’s feet gingerly ascended before approaching the door and checking to see if any cars were parked that indicated the presence of her new neighbors. once she spotted the parked red pickup truck, she took that as her cue to knock on the front door. in the brief time she waited for someone to come to the door, her head turned to the left to find a colossal, vibrant red barn. it seemed to have an open window and what looked like to be a telescope protruding. lyric’s mind began to wander again, but instead of panic, it was serenity.

that looks like a dope spot to stargaze and listen to some stevie. ain’t nothing like your own personal quiet place.

her thoughts were halted at the sound of the front door hinges creaking opening to reveal a couple around her parents age, they both greeted lyric with a “good morning” and benevolent grins which gave her a warm feeling. the wife was a few inches shorter than lyric with auburn hair, blue eyes, and rosy lips. as for the husband, he was towering over both of the females with sandy, blonde curls, sculpted jawline, and blue eyes as well. lyric regained her focus and introduced herself.

“hey—good mornin’! my name’s lyric james. my family and i just moved in last night in the house next door. it’s very nice to meet you mr. and mrs.—“ she paused to lead them to their names to politely address them like how she was raised. with a smile, she held out her hand to give each adult a handshake before the husband reciprocated the salutation on their behalf,

“well, lyric, it is certainly a pleasure to meet you and welcome to the neighborhood! mr. and mrs. kent will do, but when you feel comfortable, my name is jonathan and this is my wife, martha.”

“lyric—what a lovely name. we definitely look forward to meeting the rest of your family very soon and welcome to smallville. is there anything we can help you with, honey?” martha enthusiastically chimed, that sunshine smile reappearing that compelled lyric to return a dimpled simile of her own as a result of that welcoming compliment.

“ah, thank you both so much! first, i just wanna let ya’ll know you have a lovely home. second, if it isn’t such a bother— did ya’ll happen to see a black cat with these big, yellow eyes, no collar, and sneaky? i mean—she has a collar, but because i was so tired, i forgot to put it on her last night. her name is noir. she likes to wander off sometimes and i was wondering if ya’ll seen her around here? i understand if you haven’t, i was making sure before i start putting her face everywhere in town.” lyric’s face heated with embarrassment as she dumped her predicament on these lovely folks, she takes her hands that were previously tucked in her pockets and fidgeted with them. who knew that one kitty could cause this teenager this much stress and chaos? lyric knew, but in this circumstance? give a girl a break.

after lyric drops the cat’s exact description, realization set in martha’s mind and the gears started turning in her brain.

lyric. what a friendly and polite girl! she must be the cat’s owner. the same cat that snuck into the barn and the same cat that clark was currently caring for. not to mention that she’s a sight for sore eyes! this girl could use a trusting and kind first friend in a new place. who better than clark? maybe this was the fresh face that could bring him out of this lana funk.

an invisible light bulb popped out of martha’s head, her smile never ceasing at her clever thinking. it was now martha’s turn to respond to lyric.

“oh, no! that’s unfortunate. we have a son who’s he’s about your age. his name is clark and he would definitely be of service to help find what you’re looking for. he’s actually in that barn right over there.” her auburn bob sways as her head tilts in the direction of the barn, a nonverbal signal for lyric to take a look.

“are you sure about that, mrs. kent? i don’t wanna bother nobody with my problem.” lyric questioned, using one of her hands to brush a piece of hair out of her face.

“i’m positive, lyric! one thing about clark kent, when there’s a call for help, he’ll answer. i’m sure he’d be happy to assist you!” martha said with a reassuring grin.

lyric reciprocated with a grin and nodded her head in approval.

“by the way you’re hyping him up, he sounds pretty cool. alright, mrs. kent, you got a deal. i’ll take you up on that! again, i really appreciate your help! you said that barn over there, right?” lyric pointed to the left.

lyric took the kent’s nods as approval to give them a wave, walk down to the porch steps, and make her brief trip to the red barn with the telescope in the window. the entrance was already opened, giving her easy access. she looked around to see the piles of hay and various farming tools and machinery. her head turned to one side, then the other to see if she could spot the mysterious clark. her gaze then shifted to the beige, wooden staircase that led to the next level.

“here goes something.” she mutters under breath, her legs carrying her to the staircase to get the next lead in finding the missing noir.

“hello! is anybody up there?!” she called out as she ascended.

clark was still in the loft. he was lounging on the sofa with noir comfortably laying across his lap, softly purring and snoozing the day away after a snack and some playtime with a laser pen that clark found. he was now waiting for lyric’s arrival to retrieve her furry companion. his heightened sense of hearing and open window worked in his favor when he heard the recent conversation between the girl and his parents in the distance. that soft voice he heard last night confirmed the match for the voice of the new girl next door. last night, her tone conveyed raspiness and exhaustion, but while conversing with his parents, it was soothing and pleasant to the ear, sensitive or not. he was content in knowing that the feline, noir (now that he finally knew her name) had a caring owner and home. he also couldn’t help, but simper bashfully at hearing his mother’s compliment about his willingness to help others. his cheeks glowing red when lyric enthusiastically agreed and the two were only seconds from meeting. she already thinks i’m cool even though we haven’t met. that’s—interesting.

clark’s thoughts came to a halt when he hears footsteps and that same voice calling out for another human— well, being in his case. him and noir perked up and glanced in the direction of the footsteps that were approaching closer to his exact location. noir let out a mewl that louder than normal.

“noir? noir! is that—“ lyric gains speed at the sound of a “meow” that belonged to the onyx kitty she’s missed so dearly. once she made it to the top of the stairs and rounded the corner, her movements ceased to find a boy sitting on the couch. clark turned his head in her direction. a kind smile that revealed his pearly canines appeared as he gingerly scooped noir in his arms and approached lyric. silence filled the room as they inspected each other’s features for a moment before speaking.

as clark was standing, lyric could tell he was in the 6’0+ range of height. his hair was dark like hers, but he had ivory skin, benevolent aqua blue eyes, sculpted jawline, and rosy lips. he resembled the prince in that little mermaid movie that lyric always enjoyed as a child—after some years, she’s realized it wasn’t just the songs that drawn her in.

clark curiously gazed at the girl before him. she was at average height. he noticed her medium earthy skin tone complimented her deep brown eyes, long, natural dark hair, and shimmery, full lips. he knew that it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that she was pleasant to the eyes. the teen’s conscious’ brought them down to earth before they awkwardly stammered their introductions in sync,

“hey! i’m—“

“hi! my name’s—“

“sorry—“

“my bad—“

they both respond with a brief chortle before clark chimes in,

“ladies first.”

“oh, right! um, my name’s lyric james aka, your new neighbor and owner of that fast tail cat you got.”

lyric gives the boy an amicable grin and playfully glares at noir. she holds out her arms towards clark’s and he instantly takes the cue to hand noir back in lyric’s awaiting arms. he beams as she embraces the feline, her knuckles nuzzling between the ears and pecking her head.

“god, don’t you ever do that to me again. i’m too young to have a heart attack, but i’ve missed you, girl!” she affectionately murmured.

“i’m clark kent by the way! it’s really nice to meet you, lyric.” he holds out his hand and patiently waits as she shifts noir into one arm, popping her on her torso like an infant and reaching her hand to grasp his in the friendly exchange.

“nice to meet you! your mom talked a good game about you helping those who need it. it looks like you really came through and i appreciate that, clark. this is noir and i’m sorry that she snuck over here disturbing your peace, but i forgot to put her tag on, so that’s on me.” lyric confessed, looking at her cat with the expression of a disappointed mother before gleaming in gratitude towards the farm boy.

“hey, it’s no problem, really. this sounds a bit embarrassing, but i’m relieved she snuck in. i was feeling kinda lonely up here and she cheered me up. plus, i got the chance to meet you and get out of doing my chores for a while.”

they briefly laugh before lyric chimes in,

“hey, there’s nothing embarrassing about that! trust, when i’m feeling down, i can count on this gremlin to bring some excitement to my day. even if she get on my everlasting nerves with her shenanigans, wandering off being the biggest issue—now, that you said it, she got me out of doing my chores too!” they laugh again as she playfully rolled her eyes before quickly spotting two empty bowls on the ground. she snickered to herself at her what her mother referred to this morning and it didn’t go unnoticed by clark.

“care to let me in on the joke?” clark wittingly quizzed.

“i think it’s funny how when i was looking for noir this morning and told my mom about it, she said it was because noir was just looking for a snack and that i got her spoiled. it looks like you gave my baby the royal treatment, huh?” lyric chuckled and gestured to the empty bowls.

clark reciprocated his own laughter before he replied,

“i just wanted to make sure she was taken care of before her owner came back. it’s the least i could do for her after she cheered me up! i’m just glad that she has a good home. even though it hasn’t been very long, i think i’ll miss noir when she goes.”

“well, clark, if you want to see noir again, you can! that’s if—you let me kick it with ya’ll. i won’t lie, it’d be nice to know someone when i start at smallville high on monday. you cool with that?” lyric proposes, raising an arched brow and a smirk playing on her lips. inwardly, she didn’t want to put the pressure on by dropping the “f” bomb on him just yet. not until they get to know each other better. lyric wasn’t opposed to it and she got the vibe from clark that he felt the same, especially with the way they hit it off.

the infectiousness of the action caused clark to smile and nod in agreement.

“i’m cool with that. ah! i’m such an idiot.” he jokingly pinches the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. “i’ve probably kept you waiting here all day when you’ve got stuff to do at your place. i’ll walk you home?” that was always the gentlemanly thing to do and clark wanted to make a good impression on his new neighbor who would hopefully want to join him and his small circle of friends starting monday. as they walked down the stairs and out of the barn towards her home, they continued to their small talk for the brief duration of the stroll. he asked the basics of where she was from before moving to smallville, what her life was like there, her family, school, and how she’s adjusting to the new house so far. clark felt a sense of nostalgia. he hasn’t walked down this path towards that house in months, it was refreshing.

they stopped and reached their final destination. clark took it upon himself to walk lyric up to the door while still keeping a safe distance behind her. her father had yet to get extra keys made, so she had to knock on the door. as they waited, lyric turned her body to face his with an appreciative expression and broke the ice,

“hey—all jokes aside, it was really nice of you for taking care of noir until i got her. thanks again! i get a good vibe from you, clark kent. there’s just somethin’ about you. one day, the whole world will see it and they’ll appreciate it like i do.”

clark couldn’t count on his fingers how many times this girl has made him laugh or smile within these several minutes.

“it’s no problem, lyric. it doesn’t hurt to give back to others, whether they’re covered in fur or not. i’m just happy that i can do some good in this world.”

clark reaches over to pet noir on her head one last time before the door swings open to reveal an older african-american woman that looked to be about the same age as his mother. it didn’t take clark’s x-ray vision to see where lyric got her looks from. her mother’s skin tone and eyes matched with lyric’s, her straightened shoulder length hair was dark and shiny. she smiled and greeted the teens with full red lips and the familiar dimples that clark once saw on her daughter’s face. lyric introduces her mother, crystal, to clark and vice versa. crystal was immensely impressed with the farm boy’s manners, politeness, and small town charm. in smallville, chivalry would never die.

after they both make their acquaintance, crystal leaves the two alone to finish unpacking. lyric urges clark to stay put for a second before heading upstairs to her bedroom to put noir’s collar on and places the cat on her bed. she digs into one of those household junk drawers where one could find the items needed at the right time. she retrieved a pack of her mother’s post-it notes and a pen before she power walked to still find clark waiting patiently on the porch, standing with his hands in his jean pockets.

“like i said, if you want to see noir, don’t be a stranger, alright?” she handed him the packet of notes and the pen, “you know what to do, clark.”

“you got it, lyric!” he took the pen and wrote down the digits of the kent’s landline before giving the items back to her.

“when we get our phone in order, i’ll hit you up, so you can save mine. until then, if i’m not doing anything moving-wise, would you like for noir and i to swing by the barn tomorrow? i mean, that’s if you’re good with—“

“i’d love to see you both.” he interrupted her with the same enthusiastic tone. both teens nod with a smile on their faces to confirm their meeting the next day. clark watched and waited until lyric was safely in the house before he traveled back to his own.

maybe this fresh new start wasn’t so bad for the both of them. life will always come with change whether we want to or not, it’s all about what one is to do with that change. how could they adjust? for clark and lyric, they adjusted by the absence of a sneaky, onyx feline. this could be the beginning of a refreshing new era of friendship between the farm boy and the new girl next door.

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novaenocyon · 3 months ago

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We need a Wonderlandian word for Princess! Help me out...

As someone who loves the idea of there being a Wonderlandian language (or at the very least, a pseudo-language) that they speak in throughout the Underland, I think there needs to be a word for "princess".

I mean, just think about it---Red is always calling Chloe 'princess' and 'boo', so Chloe needs something to call her as well! And I mean, I know Bridget's title 'Queen of Hearts' is more an ode to her whole cards theme, and she's actually the Empress of Wonderland. While that would make Red an heiress more than a princess, I still think there would a word for it! Plus, Ella might have called Bridget by this term at some point, so it can be used in that way too.

If you look below the cut, there's a few words I've collected (some are canon within the Alice In Wonderland world, others are my own ideas which you can feel free to nab and use yourself). Use those as inspiration and use those beautiful brains so we can think of something cute for Chloe to use to refer to Red as!

I also have a hell of a lot more hc ideas so @ me or reblog this if you want more (BEG FOR IT MWAHAHA /j)

• Regions ~ Witzend (Hatter Land, mountainous), Queast (a brimful land to the East), Snud (Southern land, home to Grampus Blues/Trotter's Bottom), Salazen Grum (aka Desert of Crims), The Tulgey Wood (Tove/Jabberwocky/Jubjub /Bandersnatch territory), Gummer Slough (viscously muddy swamp), Iplam (SW near Tulgey), Caterpillar Bush (within Cheshire domain, near Iplam), Bramble Bay (on the other side of Tulgey Wood), Looking Glass Mountain, Vorpal Mountain,

• Language (Outlandish) ~ Tulgey (Twisty), Wanderer/Wonderer (Any Wonderlandian visiting Auradon), Futterwacken (joyous dance), Futterwack (one who is excitable) Brillig (almost supper; a time), Ezel (all that way; "You want to go up ezel?"), Fairfarren (farewell), Frumious (filthy/smelly), Gallymongers (crazy), Guddler (theif), Guddlegud (grabby hands; nickname) Gyre (spin), Klotchyn (Listen up), Mimsy (flimsy & miserable), Noge (get/go down), Nunz (not yet), Orgal (to the left), Stang (to the right), Outgribe (bellowing whistley sneeze), Saganistute (sage/astute person), Scut (vulgar word for butt), Slithy (lithe/slimy), Yadder (past/beyond), Zounder (behind/behind you), "Naught for usal" (no use in it), "Slurking urpal slackush scrum" (bad word of the most worst meaning), Temmut/Temnut (hero), Temsil (liberator), Gordazzlous (gorgeous/dazzling), Futtertitilles (butterflies), Titilleskips (palpitations of the heart), Titiller (flirt), Crims (grasp/hold or center/heart depending on context), Gnasher/Gnawer (Social terms for fanged Wonderlandians that act differently during teething season; One tears things to ease the ache in their gums, the other prefers to gently hold things in their mouth), Chumbler (A durable & bulky teether for gnashers), Grawnib (A delicate & intricate teether for gnawers), blockspade (blockade),

• Plants ~ Prank Rafflesia (long tendrils, hangs people upside down), Fluttneb nuts (an unusually unimpressive nut with a sweet, caramel center), Nerghumfop poppies (explode with a sticky red dust), Pippernuttle (vibrant & colorful sticky-burrs), Besifentuc root (an ingredient in the WL fever medicine), Chawgritt trees (Grow in the Crims of Salazar Grum; Shed tough, high-nutrience bark that is often used in teethers),

Also a little extra thing, here's a little idea dump on the different card types:

~ Hearts = Status, (telethesia*) ~|~ Diamonds = Protection, (invulnerability) ~|~ Spades = Influence, (teleportation) ~|~ Clubs = Labor, (telekinesis)

*telethesia = the ability to know that something has happened or is in a place without the use of the five main senses. This can be used to slightly predict an outcome or stay in touch with Wonderland when on the surface (Auradon), often in the form of calls or a looking glass.

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vyainide · 6 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤthree–legged deerㅤ౨ৎㅤ4.3k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

educate yourself. 🍉

synopsis. trafalgar law is uselessly sympathetic to a vampire without a sire— he suffers as he learns that a monster without a mother is an animal without a leash. injured or not, it has its fill.

tag(s)&warning(s). afab! reader, nsfw 🤗, modern au, fledging vampire! reader, surgeon! law, reader nd law are both crazy switches, violence, blood drinking, biting, vampire/human relationship, don't ask ab the dynamic cause i have no answers for you, dub–con, non-linear narrative, law is a freak (for lack of better term) and likes being in control; he obviously is not in control...., blood, gore, cumming in pants (law you freak !!!!), cannibalism mention, pwp

from vyon. i've been listening to sir chloe's "i am the dog" album too much recently... i'm not sorry, i love law and i love freaks and i love the devotion that comes with devouring. UNHINGES MY JAW AND EATS TRAFALGAR LAW WHOLE. sorry, this was supposed to be quick and easy but i started ovulating sooo... might be cross–posted onto ao3 if i'm feeling up to it :3 honestly had to stop myself at 4k words cause realistically, i could have gone on and on and on and never ended up releasing this as it'd just end up as a neverending wip

don't repost / copy / translate.

“Even if you ask nicely, I have nothing for you.” There’s a mean lilt to Law's voice that makes you twitch, curling closer to your knees as you pressed down harder on the open wound to the side of your abdomen. It doesn’t take an idiot to know that he's enjoying the view— getting to see you crumpled over and laying at his feet, a hand on your side, the other clutching his pants, your head on his knee. Law’s eyes flicker from your hunched form, whimpering, to his fridge. His hand falls on the bicep closest to him and he pulls you up, “I’ll fix you up now and, in the morning, I’ll get you blood.” There's a dragged path of dirt from his door to where you're sat; handprints of grass and blood marked into his previously clean floor. He'll force you into the bathtub after this.

It’s bad practice, keeping an undomesticated vampire by you but Law can’t help the itch that crawls up his spine when he finds you laying by his feet; the satisfaction that unfurls inside him and brushes up against some depraved part of him that’s gone undetected for so long— it’s much too good to pass up on. Plus, you’ve always been the docile kind— the absolute horror that marked your features when Law had caught you on the floor of some old car, hunched over an open abdomen, hands deep into the heart comes to him at night sometimes. The widening of eyes, lips parting to threaten a scream like you’d caught him eating a man. The memory pushes him to amusement, his head rolling to the side as his hands fall onto your waist.

You let out a pained groan as Law forces you into your feet, he soothes you off your weight with his hand on the side of your waist that isn’t bloody and drags you to the island in his kitchen. Setting you down, he steps back to trace eyes over you— he clicks his tongue when he finds out, you don’t look as nice when you're at his eye–level.

There's a vile weight to your wound when Law moves away from you. You don’t feel him anymore as his footsteps round the island, then you hear some cabinets opening and then closing; when he rounds back to you, he’s fixing gloves onto his hands. Your eyes flicker through your lashes, a sharp snap resounds as he lets go of the rubber and it bounces back onto his wrist. Your breathing stutters, a burn behind unblinking eyes; you trace the curves of the veins that colour against tanned skin and everything else blurs. There’s suddenly a rhythmic beating in your head that drowns out Law’s voice and brings an itch to your gums, your side burns when your fingers tightened down around the wound— blood splitting through the cracks of your fingers and ruptured flesh, blood dripping down onto Law’s kitchen island, blood staining your hands, blood, blood, Law, blood. Your heart beats in twos. Blood. Law. Blood. Law. Fucking Law full of— you hiss in pain.

His features are impressively unmoved as he moves your hand away from your side and uses his other hand to push back at your shoulder, so you’re no longer curled into yourself. He peels away the shirt clinging to your skin and his expression scrunches around a mid–point of his face when he sees it. “Stay still, don’t be stupid and move.” He's awkwardly bent down to study the details of the wound and ponders on things like how it'd need to be treated; there’s no reason for him to be so close, his breath near heavy on your flesh. There’s a vague sickness haunting your gums, an itch deep-set in the holes beneath every tooth, a dryness to the saliva on your tongue as Law’s head tilts and you’re suddenly given a view of his neck.

There’s a quietness to you that’s stifling as Law pokes around your wound to assess nerve damage, he makes an attempt to nod his head up for a moment but is ultimately stopped by your face suddenly burrowing under his ear, your paced breathing suddenly brings his heart to life when it’s on his skin. “What are you doing?” His voice is oddly strained as a low hum sounds in your throat.

“Dizzy,” you mumbled lamely, and he sighs, almost relieved for a reason he doesn’t know. Right— of course this amount of blood loss has you weakened.

You push your head further in, close enough that he can feel your eyelashes dragging slow with each blink across his collarbone, your nose brushes away the collar of his shirt, and dried lips scratch his skin as your head moves up, so your mouth is sat at the base of his neck, your head under his jaw.

Law’s face scrunched up, a taste of annoyance at his mouth, “straighten up, I can’t see what I’m working with here.” And when you don’t move in accordance with his words, he's jerking back, anger flaunts his face, and he shoves at your shoulder to straighten up your back. An unperturbed gaze stares back at him, a pitfall trap awaits him when he meets the lens of your eyes, a deep cavity coloured in an eerie pink— near bleeding into red that almost makes Law dizzy, something sweet sits at the tip of his tongue as the face of a sheep cracks wide open. Its mouth rips open clean, skin splitting across the end of its mouth straight to its ears, as if it was made to unhinge that way, like there’s a threading you could pull out to allow its disconnected head to flop back onto its back like a puppet made for play. The forehead of the sheep knocks against the top of its shoulders; a wolf stares back at Law, and it mimics a mangled cry, sounding like a bleating of a sheep.

“Law, please.”

His bones lock into place and he feels a rupture of panic drown him, his senses dulled with a sweet nectar that'd urged him to you; you’re still sat where Law had placed you, too afraid to move in case you crossed too many boundaries, your eyes begging and pleading like you were still stood outside the threshold of his apartment, waiting for his permission to enter. There’s something in him that tells him to get away, run, anything to put some space in between you two and he finds the voice distastefully familiar—it brings about memories of pink feathers and his face scrunches up first in fear and then in amusement. Because it’s you, the weak-willed, spineless vampire that’s grown overly dependent on a human to supply bagged blood for it instead of hunting for its own lunch, and he was comparing that to an existence that knew nothing but cruelty and hatred. It takes one word, a twitch of his eyebrow, the pull of a frown to get you to retreat— he knows that well. But there’s a compulsion in him that wants to see where this takes him— an intrigue that’s always had its morbid way with him, stroked by your sudden insistence.

It's by choice that he allows you to push this further, duck your head neatly into your chin and gloat your pretty eyes up at him through flickering lashes, Law lets you intrude into his sense of personal space— there’s nothing stopping him from stepping back, forcing you away from him once more, telling you to wait, you’ve given him the power to do these things to you after all, but he doesn’t. His breath is a sharp exhale; Law’s body tenses and his face contorts— into an expression you’re sure you’ve seen before. You suddenly find it odd that you’re looking down at him; you expect a scream as your teeth drags deeper than the comical two holes you’ve seen in movies. Your incisors drag through flesh like bulldozers as you bite down, his skin rips and tears under the collar of his white button; you can still smell the lemon air freshener hung around the rear-view mirror, tangy as it hangs on the iron of his blood— it makes your nose itch and the blood taste weird on your tongue. You hear his mumblings about daughters and a wife, and you have to wonder which one of them you caught him at the hotel at; either way, it would be bad you think. If his wife was that young, if he was taking his daughters to hotels.

Law’s hand tightened on your shoulder, the memories of the night in the car park escape you again but they linger on your tongue; Law’s face, when you look at him, is all pinched together, a burdening mess and his hold turns harsh, for a second you think there’s a violence that’ll meet you tightened in his fist but he merely shoves you back onto the counter. It’s cold but it’s not uncomfortable. Hovering over you, Law is close enough for you to hear his fascinating heartbeat— this too is familiar, but you recognise it a little earlier into that night, when your eyes caught that man’s and you saw him stumbling into the hotel with the girl under his arm. A constant, steady hum. So, you push. Eyes stubbornly on Law’s face, his pinched eyebrows and his bottom lip hooked under his teeth, you watch as, fraction by fraction, his face relaxes when you finally lay your lips on him. It’s salt and it’s sweat and it’s warm; it burns the hunger in you alive when you stop kissing his neck, parting your lips over his skin to nip at his flesh.

It's all you do until he’s purposefully pressing his hip down on your thigh, pushing your lips against his neck in wet kisses until he’s delirious enough to chase after his own pleasure. You feel his hand drag up your thigh, pulling along the flesh until it stretches no longer and has to give up to tighten his palm against a new expanse of skin. Law, when you turn your head to look at him, has a hunger so vivid in his eyes that you think you’re looking into a mirror. You didn’t know you were laughing until Law has a hand around your cheeks, pulling your face away from his neck, “what’re you laughing at?”

The glare in his eyes doesn’t do much to stop you from laughing, only spurns on a more unforgiving pitch of laughter as you bend your knee, “this.” Law winces, his body doubling over yours on his kitchen island when you push against the obvious bulge behind his tight jeans. His head falls onto your shoulder and your lips are back to his neck, teasing with your canines; there’s no rush to your actions, like you know that it’s in the flesh to want to be torn, like it’s in man to be devoured.

You hear him curse, pretty, under his breath and his skin burns hot— it reminds you of the blood swimming around under his flesh as he goes back to kneading the plush of your thighs. He drags higher and higher until his hand disappears under the stained ruffles of your skirt and you feel the warmth of his palm over your underwear; for a second, as his thumb presses experimentally around in a certain perimeter until he gets that little gasp from you, you think that this is fine. You think you’d be okay with being underneath Law for a little while longer, just until he works you through that specific high you know he’d be mean about but when you shift your hips upwards to meet his touch, you feel a burn shoot through your side. Wincing, you remember that you’re still bleeding out and your tongue feels obtrusive in your mouth. With the reminder of your injury, you falter momentarily.

You might regret this, but your hand reaches out for Law’s wrist, tightening around his skin and urging for a stop; he looks to you in obvious question. “W–wait,” you huffed, a layer of sweat shining on your forehead. In hindsight, it was a horrible idea to grab Law’s wrist. You feel his unsteady pulse right in your palm, his neck is right there, and there’s some kind of buzzing that leaves your head heavy and awkward.

Law notices something wrong when your hand tightens impossibly hard around his wrist, when your breathing turns heavy and staggered. In his line of work, he’s never been a stranger to vampire victims. Unlike in the movies, there’s nothing romantic nor clean about being bitten by a vampire in reality; real vampires don’t just drink, they eat. Panic rapidly blossoms in his chest, branching out to his nerves and urging all his muscles with a simple task: move. If it were that simple, he’d never had been faced with so many corpses, all mangled and maimed. Law swears he sees your jaw unhinge around his neck, a whimpering ‘sorry’ break through your mouth before your jaw clamps down on his neck. He’s dead, Law thinks, you’ll bite right through all the meat and tear off the flesh from his body and then eat the rest of him as he’s bleeding out and his heart beats louder than its ever done before as he’s imagining his death.

That doesn’t happen.

He feels your cheeks bulge against his jaw twice as you draw the blood away from his body, gulping down hungrily; his body weakens against your ravenous embrace but, as the dots blur into his vision and his eyelids weigh down, you pulled yourself away from his neck. Your tongue presses flat against the comical wound (two clean dots, just like in the movies), and he feels the muscle trail a line of saliva from his neck, across his jaw, and then around the shell of his ear. He doesn’t know what he expects but you press a kiss against his ear awkwardly and then, “you’re still hard, pervert.” When you work up your knee once more, he finds that you’re right. You trail your hands over his arms and hook your finger over the end of his gloves, snapping them off his fingers.

Shame burns through him as embarrassment forces his cold cheeks to warm, but Law’s body is in no position to listen to him right now. Though he has to wonder, if he wasn’t so terribly weakened right now, would he even have it in him to pull himself away from this? You keep pressing your lips against his neck as if you’re trying to wear away the skin, alternating between simple pecks and sucks; lips part and he feels your tongue warm and he braces himself for a prick that never comes. With how reckless you are now, with your arms tightened around his back, the constant movement of your knee against his only growing erection, it's not a reach to assume that Law's blood has healed you up enough.

His hands tightened on your shoulders; aggrieved groans mixed with whimpers spill out of his throat at an alarming rate as you begin to get more precise with your knee. Your hands slowly trail down his back until they reach the waistband of his pants, then they tuck upwards under his shirt and you're pressing down on near the bottom of his back to keep him pressed against your grinding. Law doesn’t think it can get any worse, and it doesn't. But you do press your lips against his, wide and devouring, and your damned tongue is pushing and pushing. It doesn’t get worse. Only Law ends up opening his mouth to let you curl your tongue upwards, flicking up against the roof of his mouth, he can taste his own blood on his tongue, iron heavy between his teeth, and then he’s chasing after the taste.

His hands fist onto the collar of your shirt and pulls you up closer to him. Despite himself, he flinches at the taste of his own blood— smooth — on his traitorous tongue; a taste branded against the depths of his mind like the heavy cloud that clings to the horizon, it's bitter and metallic. A ringing in his head accompanies the soft ‘mmf' that betrays him and gets swallowed up greedily by you some more as you worm your tongue into his mouth, Law shakes and trembles in your grasp; it’s strange, you're raw and starved and governed by an altogether different hunger. He chases after you when you pull back, that makes you stifle a laugh too; his face is furious, his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed like a stroke of thunder, his jaw clenched and tense, hands still tight on your collar. You think he's about to burst, all the creepy, weird things he's wanted that were stuffed down, bottled in his throat; he's going to shatter and take you with him. Your thigh burns from the constant movement under him, hands still weighing him down but then you stop and he's left hanging. He's desperate enough to press himself down without needing prompting, his hands fall onto your hips and he straightens up a little, enough to get a better grasp and to stabilise himself as he tugs your body down the island.

You watched Law, almost in amazement. He fixes his position against your thigh and seriously starts rutting himself against your thigh; you can only watch, a breath stuttering in your throat at how sloppy his movement is and at the fact that he needed no prompting. Men are the dupes of their desires; you’ve seen that quote somewhere before— you didn’t know that you'd one day find Law to be a part of those men. His hair hangs awkwardly over his face as his lips part, and his eyes flutter shut, a shudder works up his spine as his hands tightened on your hips. It's not embarrassment that makes his skin crawl. No, what's eating away at him is the realisation that he's little care for what he looks like and if you end up thinking less of him after this. Vaguely, he feels his fingers press under the hem of your shirt and tightened down on cold flesh as he comes to the dreadful realisation that he's enjoying this. He's harder than he's ever been in his life and all he's done is fucking hump your thigh and kiss you a bit— he, without thinking about it too much more, dials it down to the fact that there must be some kind of aphrodisiac side effect to being bitten.

Thoughts are decisively turned away from him. He's nothing, empty, a marionette on its strings, a vessel to be filled, and for every moment you spend watching and observing and pulling back from his lips, instead of doing anything to help, his frustration builds. It's frustration that builds in Law, a kind that digs deeps into his bones, it’s fury and rage, a desire that eats away at rationale in his mind. “Fuck,” he curses, his head drops onto your collarbone and his pace becomes more purposeful, pressed even closer to your skin for leverage. There’s no room to breathe with how close he is, his head turns up and you can feel his lips against yours, a certain wobble in his upper lip as his tongue parts your lips. His hands drag up the side of your body and his hand bumps against the side of your chest. He grappled with the bra, his shaky hands doing nothing for him you can imagine, you arch your back upwards, your hands joining him to mess with the bra until the hooks and clasps separated.

The grip he has on your tit is unforgiving, grabbing the fat with his hand and squeezing without a care, Law arches off your thigh with a groan.

“I think we're past the point of you grinding on my thigh,” you mused, voice tinted in amusement. You move to straighten up but Law presses you back down within the second.

His eyebrows furrow, jaw clenched. “Don't move, I'm so—,” he trails off into a sigh. The realisation that he's worked himself close enough to an orgasm on your thigh brings an ache that almost as similar to hunger; your teeth itch and you wish you could take them out for a moment.

“Kiss me,” you murmured before you know what you’re saying, your voice throaty and thick. Law doesn’t let you dwell on it much; his lips are fucking searing against yours; your hands fall onto his cheeks and you feel his heart beat so loud just from kissing him, you're surprised that the room isn’t shaking yet. You're aware to the point of discomfort that your underwear is sopping, stained in obvious desires when Law's hand comes back up your thighs.

The flip of your skirt is fumbling, hasty; his hand pushes up your skirt, dragging his palm over the skirt as it covers your stomach and then it turns its attention back to your underwear. His knuckles brush against the hems of underwear, barely catching it as he pushes away the other thigh he'd been neglecting. “Shit,” he breaths when his thumb presses against the cotton material, “you’ve been this wet the entire time?” He presses his bulge back down onto your thigh, “gonna take care of you, promise.”

You nod as his finger drags against you, slow and teasing. His pace staggers, both his hips and his fingers momentarily as his hand moves to stabilise over your thigh; a shudder works through his spine and he's folding over, head falling onto your shoulder as he works through ‘fucks', each one louder than the last. True to his words, after Law has his own numbing taste of pleasure, he turns his attention onto you. One hand fumbled with his belt, undoing it as best he could with his other hand occupied with your pleasure.

Law is no stranger to sex, he's had his own share of lovers, but this, the way he grabs at you and the way he discards any acts to play nice, how he usually proceeds in these moments a mystery to himself— no warm–up, no teasing, no building you up until you're wired and squirming, vibrating. Just a man you've turned lost to his arousal. His hand digs into your flesh, the roughness of the touch chafing against the soft skin of your inner thigh; his eyes blurry and unfocused as he grabs at your underwear and pulls it to the side.

Guttural— the sound that leaves Law is breathed deep out of his nose, gasping against your skin and he, without second thought, sinks a finger right into you. His eyes are stubborn on the hand that’s enviably close to your warmth, watching the change of his skin from tan to pale as your hand goes to grasp his wrist again. Your legs fold upwards, feet finding purchase on the island as Law curls a single finger against the walls of your cunt. Pulling back gives you temporary reprieve— the next thrust comes with Law working a second finger into you. He's methodical with it. He watches. The tightening grip you had on his forearm, the way your head tilts back, lips part open with breathless gasps, everything; there’s little sympathy in how Law watches you— no hesitant strokes, no gentle caresses. This is the Law you'd been egging on, focused on the now, the here, the immediate, the tangible. It's not what he wants, rather what he needs. So, he forces a third finger into you and watches as you yelped, head turning from side to side as your thighs tighten, knees hitting each other.

He finishes tugging down his zipper and the hand moves to atop your knee, Law’s thumb and pinky finger press deep on the side of your knee. “C’mon,” he taunts almost, “how can I take care of you if you’re hiding from me?” His eyebrows raised, urging you sweetly when you turn your gaze to him, lips hooked under your teeth and eyebrows furrowed— you oblige. The reward you get from listening to him is ruining; all three fingers curled up inside you, pulling a shriek from you when you feel his blunt nails drag slow against you. His attention is offered to you in ways that turn your head numb, his finger still fucking into you at that gruelling pace, his body bent down between your legs to gaze down at you. Corners of his lips tug up into a smile, “still hungry?”

You’re not sure, your teeth had been grinding ever since Law’s fingers found their home in you, since you’d found a doghouse at the threshold of his entrance, but you’re not foolish enough yet to deny whatever Law was willing to offer to you so you nod. “Yes, yes, so hungry, yes.” All you see is starbursts, kaleidoscopic flickers that splinter at every angle as Law turns his head, offering you his neck once more. His hand grasps the back of your head, pulling you up gently to his neck; you feel as though you’re drinking from his cupped hands, licking up water before it falls through the gaps of his fingers. You press your dull teeth against his burning flesh first, then you urge your fangs to grow, prodding through his muscle.

You’re hungrier than you’ve ever remembered, even before you became a vampire, it’s reminiscent of a hunger from when you were first born; there’s hunger that isn’t quelled as your mouth attaches to Law’s neck, as you suckle on his blood, as you chafe yourself against his stubborn, moving fingers. There’s an ache in you that reminds you of the day you were born, once covered in blood and twice covered in dirt, Law becomes, to you, a necessary evil in the face of your single, insatiable hunger.

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that-random-outsider · 2 months ago

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Okay so allow me to explain my unbridled hatred for King Beast

For starters it is said that the barrier along with Auradon was formed 20 years before the first movie, then add 2 because their 18 in the 3rd movie, and then another 6 I believe for rise of red (Don't quote me on that this is just an approximations) that leaves you with 28 years, Red and Chloe travel back in time 30 years which leaves them to meet there moms at age 16.

That leaves everything that happened to happen when they were 18 and I'm pretty sure it's assumed that Beast is in fact older than them by a few years. My educated guess is that he was about 21-24 years old based on what I remember from the original movie. Now understand that would this 24 year old forced an 18 year old Fay to trap every villain and their kid on a purgatory (most of whom she grew up with may I remind you) And if you really want to go there how many times can you think of the line "We used to be friends" appeared in a dcom because I can name a lot so there's a very real chance she used to be friends with a lot of them.

Just something about forcing a barely adult to lock away all of her childhood friends seems wrong to me but hey maybe I'm crazy. Now secondly BRIDGET poor sweet Bridget was going to war at 18 and no really think about that. She was ostracized for two years after castlecoming assuming that she could even make it to graduation between all the bullying and having no friends. Because yes she lost her only friend so she's been living in isolation for 2 years. And her mom is apparently gone. (I know this fandom has their own opinions but good or bad she was still her mother. ) Because at this point she is queen which means that her mother either stepped down or died and I really don't think Wonderland monarchs believe in stepping down. Either way she’s leading completely alone at this point and all she has is this country and now Beast wants to take that too!

The only thing left that's hers, her home, her safe place. The place where Bridget grew up, not the Queen of Hearts. And he just expected her to hand it over! Like he was entitled to her home, her kingdom. Just this random white man decided he should own this land because he wants it, and that sounds too familiar so ofcourse Bridget fights. 18 years old fighting for the right to her own home by herself and you expect that not to break her? It's no wonder she acts as if kindness is weakness people have been taking advantage of hers all her life. She's such a protective person but it manifest in the worse ways. In her mind She's protecting her people, her daughter from getting hurt by hurting her first and that's always my thought process for her. Not an excuse but an explanation.

#descendants rise of red #bridget of hearts #king beast #queen of hearts

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lovecla · 4 months ago

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OCEAN EYES | connor bedard

chapter two.

➴ warnings: swearing, underage drinking.

➴ word count: 2.8k

➴ author’s note: thank u to everyone who read the first chapter. it's insane for me. thank u thank u thank u. hope u like this one too :))

CONNOR didn’t speak to you for the rest of the night.

You knew he still was at your house but no matter how many laps you and Chloe walked, you couldn’t find him for the love of God.

And honestly, it made you feel sick to your stomach. Lying to him was just the worst and all you wanted to do was call him and apologize.

But you couldn’t do that with Chloe, could you? You already felt like the worst friend of all time because the truth was: you didn’t want them to date. You didn’t know the exact reason for that but you still felt that way.

You decided to call it a night and go back to your room, saying goodbye to Chloe— she said no when you asked her to sleep over— and going upstairs. You removed all of your makeup and clothes, putting on your favorite pajamas, trying to find some comfort in them.

Trying to sleep was useless, the downstairs noise not helping at all. So you just grabbed your TV remote and accessed your Disney+ account, pressing play on the first Marvel movie you saw.

It was going to be a long night.

—

“YOU look like you had a long night. Too much partying?”

Alex’s voice sounded too loud and too annoying for your taste, but it was probably due to the fact that you only managed to sleep two hours last night.

“I fucking swear to God, I’m gonna punch you in the face right now,” you mumbled, grabbing the cereal from the counter and pouring a large amount into your mouth.

“No, I’m serious! And you look crazy as hell with the Spider-Man hoodie and the sunglasses. Did you join a crackhead community in which you have to dress like that to be a member?”

“Alex! Fuck!” You yelled, annoyed as hell. “Go play some Hockey! Do some research on fucking cancer! I don’t know, just leave me alone.”

You knew you were being difficult for no reason. It wasn’t Alex’s fault you hadn’t slept well— or that Chloe was trying to make Connor her newest prized possession. But somehow your stupid, sleep deprived brain thought otherwise.

“Boo, you’re no fun today. Hit me up when you leave The Crackheads.” Alex smiled, leaving the kitchen after grabbing his gym bag.

Gym. Hah. He’s probably going to work out with Connor.

The thought made you want to crawl out of your skin. You actually missed Connor a lot. It was almost the end of the season and they travel a lot for the games, so you didn’t get to see him or Alex for a long time. And now that he is back, what did you do? Kind of forced him to go on a date with your friend and lied to him? Yeah. Can someone give me the award for being the worst person ever? Thank you.

You laid on the couch, thinking about your situation. Sure, maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe Connor would hate Chloe or maybe Chloe would hate Connor.

But what’s there to hate? Sure, he can come off as a cold, awkward king to everyone and his smiles almost always look forced (even if they aren’t) but Connor has so much to offer.

In these two years you’ve been friends, he never let you down, not once. Whenever you had movie nights with some of Alex and Connor’s teammates, he would always sit beside you and vote for the movie you wanted the most. He’d always let you rest your head on his shoulder, and even sit on his lap if you wanted to take a nap.

He buys you gifts and takes you to the movies at every chance he has, besides buying you tons of Marvel merch and different candies from the states he visits. Sometimes he sends chaotic photos to you, looking like a mess after a game or practice.

Besides checking on you at every chance he got, whenever he was away.

He was everything you could ask for and then some more.

Truthfully, it had been a long time since you had someone who cared as much as he did. Yeah, you have Alex and your parents, but besides them? You only had Chloe. And also Madi, but you weren’t sure if she considered you as a friend like you did her.

So Connor liking you was unexpected but so welcome. Maybe that’s why you were feeling so down about this whole situation.

You don't want to lose him.

“Fuck,” you whispered, still laying on the couch like a starfish. “I need to get a fucking grip.”

A second after you finished your sentence, your phone rang in your hand.

You smiled for the first time that day. Frank was just another one of Alex’s teammates and he was funny as hell. Usually he just wanted to see you whenever he fought with his girlfriend and needed someone to comfort him.

You groaned. Men are so weird.

You got dressed anyway and exactly an hour and a half later, Frank was at your front door, waiting inside his expensive ass car.

“I’ll start charging you since I’m basically your therapist,” you said, as soon as you got inside his car. “How is Josie still dating you, that’s the million dollar question.”

He smirked. “I can name a few reasons.”

“You’re gross. Where are we going?”

“That one Irish pub everyone loves. Hopefully no one will be able to recognise us and I’ll be able to drink my ass off.”

“Not happening, big guy. I can’t carry you while sober, much less while drunk. You’re like twice my weight.” You smiled, feeling a little bit better.

“Stop fat shaming me and be quiet.”

The rest of the drive was cool, Frank talking your ears off about Josie and how in love with her he was.

It was fun to see such a young guy talking about a girl like Frank talked about Josie. He wanted to marry her and be the father of her children, completely ignoring the fact that he’s only twenty-one years old and she’s still in college.

The pub was half full when they arrived but thankfully no one recognised them— or if anyone did, they didn’t say anything.

“I’ll get myself a beer. For you, a Diet Coke, right?”

Usually, you’d just nod and say yes. But you were feeling really shitty. And even though you absolutely hated the taste of alcohol, you wanted your mind to shut the hell up about Connor and Chloe, who were probably having the time of their lives on their little date.

And yeah, what would a little bit of beer even do? It’s not like you’ll get drunk with just one beer. Nah.

“Actually, I’d like the same thing as you.”

Frank smiled. “Ooh, feeling brave today? I see you, girl. Don’t let Alex know that I gave you beer though. He’ll beat my ass.”

“Aye, aye captain.”

—

TURNS out that one beer can get you drunk.

You don’t remember how it happened. If it had been the beer you drank or the several vodka shots you took afterwards.

The only thing you knew was that Backstreet Boys were really good and you totally had to get on the table to dance.

Only if Frank hadn’t stopped you.

“Frank, come ooon,” you said, not really sure if your words were coming out the proper way. “Let’s sing everybody: I want it that way!”

“Tell me why!” Some people answered, or at least you think they did. You’ll never know.

“No more singing, dancing or drinking for you,” you heard his voice from afar, which was really weird since you were sure he was holding you. “Gosh, I didn’t know you couldn’t handle your alcohol. I need to call someone. Wait here.”

He left—probably— and you stayed there, singing Backstreet Boys with your new friends. You were having the time of your life, really, and turns out that drinking is super cool and you probably should do it more.

“I want it that way…” you mumbled, feeling sleepy.

Some time passed before Frank returned, saying something about someone sober picking someone up. You started to wonder who it could be, and came to the conclusion that it was probably Alex since Connor was busy.

Busy with your best friend who’s probably on her way to fuck him like she did with half of their school.

No. That’s just… mean. You shouldn’t think that of Chloe even if it is true. She’s your friend. Just because she and Connor were probably on each other’s throats it didn’t mean she wasn’t your best friend anymore.

“I really like him,” you whispered, or at least you think you did. Your lips felt like moving but no words reached your ears.

After snoozing for half an hour, you felt a hand on your hair, caressing it gently. It felt so, so nice. It reminded you of Connor, because he usually did the same thing to you before you fell asleep on him. And maybe this beer was Bedard induced because you were actually smelling his perfume too.

And… hearing his voice?

“Why did you give her beer? You know she doesn’t drink, asshole.”

“She asked for it! What the hell was I supposed to do?” Frank sounded funny. Like Rugby in Regular Show. Or was it Rigby? Maybe Ragby.

“I’m taking her home. How are you getting home?”

Frank answered something but you couldn’t hear it, since you were really busy trying to get your head up. Why does it weigh so much? Actually, since when does it weigh so much?

You felt two cold hands on your hips, making you shiver. They felt too familiar.

“Come on, El. Let’s go home.”

You finally managed to open your eyes and stare at the man holding you.

Connor.

"Con," you heard yourself saying, not trusting yourself to say something as complicated as Bedsy in that moment. "Hi." You whispered.

His eyes softened and he smiled a little at you. "Hi, El. Why did you drink so much?"

"Dunno," mumbling, you leaned forward, resting your face on the crook of his neck. "Wanted to forget."

"Forget, huh? We'll talk about that later." He said, starting to move your body around until you were out of the pub.

Frank forgotten somewhere else. You didn't really care.

Connor smelled too good for you to think of anything else.

—

SOMEHOW, you ended up at Connor's place. You knew it was his place because 1) he had a 98 Bedard jersey plastered on the wall and 2) he was the only one to buy an apartment instead of a house.

It was nice and cosy and you actually loved coming here, but you limited yourself to only visiting when Madi visited him too. You didn't want to seem needy or anything like that.

Even though his place was a lot nicer than Alex's.

"I'm gonna give you one of my hoodies and sweatpants so you can change. I'm not sure if you can wash yourself so you'll have to sleep without showering. I hope you don't kill me in the morning."

Something inside you wanted to talk back and tell him that he could wash you if he wanted to, but you had a feeling future you would absolutely die at that so you just nodded once, regretting it immediately because it made your world start spinning fast.

"I wish the world would stop spinning," you confessed.

Maybe drinking isn't that cool.

"It will soon. You just need to change, eat and sleep." True to his words, Bedard did give you a change of clothes-his clothes- and food; plain black coffee and plain toast, but, yeah! Food.

You were still feeling like you had done a hundred cartwheels in a row but now you were only seeing one Connor and you could talk without sounding like a three year old.

"Thanks for picking me up." You say, after eating the last bite of toast.

"It's fine. Why did you drink?"

You shrugged.

"El," he got closer, frowning. "I know you. You hate drinking."

He was right. You did. And usually, you'd be happy with your diet soda. But forgetting about Connor's date with Chloe seemed like a good reason.

Oh my god. Connor's date.

"Connor," you started, voice quiet. "What about your date with Chloe?"

"I left."

Your eyes doubled in size but you couldn't help but feel a bit... happy.

"But... what do you mean?"

"Ellie, I only went to that thing because you wanted me to."

Oh.

"Because apparently, you had a super important date with a guy— Frank— and couldn't make it tonight." He sounded hurt. Maybe you were just too drunk.

"I didn't have a date with Frank. It was a lie," you whispered, eyes starting to feel wet. You took a deep breath. You weren't going to cry over this. "M sorry I lied to you, Con. It's just that—"

"We can talk tomorrow, El. Let's get you to bed." He got up and started pushing you towards his bedroom.

But your heart still felt heavy on your chest. And your eyes were still wet.

"No, Con, I need to tell you—” you stopped him, both of your hands on his chest, your eyes focused on his. "I didn't want to lie to you. I swear— I would never lie to you willingly because I lo—” you stopped yourself and swallowed down your words. Is it okay for you to say you love your friends? Yeah it probably was. Fuck that. "I love you, Con, and I would never hurt you on purpose. It was just that—"

"El, you're drunk and you're going to regret all of this tomorrow." He tried to stop you once more, his hands on your waist as he forced you to start walking again.

You snapped. "No, Con, please, fuck," Great. Now you're crying. "Just listen to me, please."

"Come to bed and I will."

You frowned but nodded. Despite all of your visits to his apartment, it was your first time in his bedroom. It was all Connor-like, neat, clean and tidy. Some pictures of his family and some trophies adorned the walls and shelves. You caught yourself smiling. One of the pictures was of the day their team won some championship, in which you somehow ended up in the Bedard family picture beside Madi.

He made you lay down on his extra large bed— why would he need a bed this big?— and put the duvet on top of you. It was a chill night and the warm it provided made you sigh happily.

"Are you going to sleep with me?"

Connor stared at you for what felt like a year. Those blue eyes awkwardly staring at you and you felt yourself cringe, just now realising how you worded the phrase.

You both had already slept together, but on the couch and in front of everyone. Never alone and on a bed. But you didn't want to sleep alone, not really.

"Well," he finally said, taking his shirt off and laying down right beside you. It wasn't long until you moved, so that your head was on top of his chest and his arm around you, holding you close to his body.

"Chloe likes you," you mumbled, looking at his chest going up and down, calmly. "At least she thinks she does. I don't think she really likes you. Not like I do, anyway."

He chuckled. "Like you do?"

"Yeah," whispering, you started to draw little patterns on his left peck. "She asked me to introduce you both and I told her that it wasn't a good idea, because you're you and... well. You're not much of a people person."

You heard his soft laugh.

"That I am not."

"She didn't care. She wanted it either way. I didn't know she was going to put you right on the spot like she did. I swear."

"I believe you. And it's fine."

"It's not," you sniffed and stopped moving your hand, trying to wipe your own wet face. When did you start crying anyway? Being drunk is weird. "I shouldn't have lied to you, even if it wasn't on purpose. I didn't have a date and there isn't a guy. I just wanted Chloe to be happy. And even if I don't want to admit it..." you bit your lips. "You guys would look awesome together."

You felt his body stiff underneath you. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well. She is your perfect girlfriend. She's blonde, gorgeous, rich and looks good as hell on cameras. It'd be good for your image." Your own mouth felt bitter after saying those words, but sometimes the truth felt like that.

He took a while to answer, and just when you could feel your whole body falling asleep, you heard his voice saying, softly:

"Yet she's not the one laying on my chest right now."

#hockey #connor bedard x oc #connor bedard x you #connor bedard fic #connor bedard x reader #connor bedard

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mc-lukanette · 1 year ago

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It was the day after the class seats had been swapped around, Marinette having since resigned herself to being moved to the back. She wasn't happy about being alone, but everyone else was with their own seats and the last thing she wanted to do was stir up a fuss again just to have it turned against her.

Making a case would've been less of an issue had she told everyone that she was actually no longer into Adrien and had an entire boyfriend to show for it, but Alya was too unpredictable in how she might react to that and the others hadn't seen her and Luka together long enough to understand. She loathed the fact that an infatuation of less than a year was what people were basing her character on - nowadays, she looked back on it like an artist who grimaced at their week-old work - but her private life was no one's business but her own. If she had to reveal it to convince people that she wasn't an evil person going after a "perfectly innocent" girl over a crush, then—

Well, normally she would say that it was her fault, but Luka had been firm about her not blaming herself for everything under the sun and she was really trying to stick to that.

Maybe being in the back won't be so bad, she thought, attempting to calm her mind. I feel, um... taller? That's something.

It wasn't helping.

"Alright, class," Miss Bustier called out, clapping her hands to earn everyone's attention, "before we start today, we have a new student who just transferred to our school and I'd like you all to give them a warm welcome."

A new student? Marinette shut her eyes and held back a groan, thinking that the current "new student" was already more than enough. If it was another Lila or Chloe, she might have to seriously consider bribing Master Fu for the fox miraculous so she could Mirage herself into class to avoid them altogether.

Also, as she was quickly realizing, the only available seat was next to her. This was a disaster, an absolute disas—

"Luka?" Juleka blurted out, uncharacteristically loud in her shock.

At the name of her boyfriend, Marinette's head jerked towards the classroom door, seeing him standing next to Miss Bustier like he belonged there. She blinked, glancing out at the hall as if the real new student would come in, but nothing happened. Even when she looked back at Luka, he met her gaze as if to wordlessly tell her that yes, he was there.

Just to make absolutely sure, she dropped her arms to her lap and pinched her forearm until it hurt.

After giving a general introduction that Marinette processed none of, Miss Bustier turned to Luka to ask, "Would you be alright sitting in the back next to Marinette?"

He nodded, not waiting to start heading up the stairs. Eyes, either curious or puzzled, followed him as he went, but he had his own eyes on his decided-upon seat.

Marinette could only continue gaping at him, even as he sat down and made himself comfortable. He eyed her, smiling softly, then reached out and slowly closed her mouth. The cheek caress that followed was so subtle and quick that no one could've caught it even if they were looking, but it finally brought her back to life.

Leaning towards him, she whispered in a panic, "Luka! What are you doing here?! How are you here?!"

He took a single glance at Miss Bustier, who was turned towards the chalkboard, then leaned in and whispered back, "I didn't want you to have to do this alone."

"But—!" Her face scrunched, mind racing in an attempt to understand. She'd told Luka about what happened with Lila, but that was only yesterday. For him to have found a way to transfer between then and now was—was— "That's crazy!"

He shrugged, unphased.

She gripped the table, as if it would give her the mental support needed to juggle the thoughts in her head. "You didn't have to go through all this for me! It's too much!"

That finally got a reaction out of him, but not in the way she suspected. He frowned disapprovingly, leaning in further and raising a hand between them to further muffle his words to others' ears. She felt his breath against her ear as he explained, "You're my girlfriend, Marinette; my girlfriend and my best friend. It's not 'too much' if it's what I wanted to do."

He left it at that, straightening up again and putting his focus towards the front of the class. She could only pout at him, hoping no one saw the blush on her cheeks.

It felt wrong, somehow. It was Ladybug who was supposed to swoop in to save people, not the other way around. She was the one who had to make choices on the fly to help others.

She could already hear Luka's voice in her head, shooting that idea down: "Ladybug can't be the savior all the time. Someone has to look out for Marinette too."

It was almost frustrating, losing a battle of words in her own head, but she'd be lying if she said that it didn't make her feel relieved to have someone who would back her up no matter what. Whether she chose to go after Lila or not, he'd be behind her the entire way.

She couldn't help herself. Checking to confirm that there still weren't eyes on them, she leaned up towards Luka and imitated his gesture, raising her hand between their faces. He'd seen the gesture out of the corner of his eye and tipped his head to listen better, but she kissed his cheek instead.

Pulling back quickly to look normal just in case the pecking sound had been caught, she dared only a single peek at Luka to catch his reaction. He was trying and failing not to grin, probably looking as if he was just very interested in the lesson to any outside eyes. It occurred to her then that, had they been in the front or middle rows, it would've been impossible to not be seen by anyone behind them.

Letting an imaginary Marinette in her mind cheer and jump around for her due to being unable to do anything even close to that in class, her thoughts screamed, Being in the back is the best!

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #type: salt #episode: Chameleon

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 10 months ago

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The Many Failures of Lila's Writing

There are three main issues with Lila Rossi (or whatever her name is): she was introduced too early, she doesn't fill a unique role in the story, and her lies are too over the top for her to feel like a good villain. Let's go through that list in order because the issues build to create the show's most annoying character even though her setup could have led to a legitimately great character who we would have all loved to hate.

Issue 1: Lila Shows Up Three Seasons Too Early

Lila is introduced in the final episode of season one and then essentially disappears from the show for a full season. The only time we see her in season two is her brief appearance in season two's finale where she takes on the role of Volpina again in order to help Gabriel fake Ladybug's death. That's also the episode where we learn that Lila has been "in Achu" for some unknown amount of time.

[image: a list of Lila's season two appearances (source)]

Season three sees Lila show up with reasonable regularity (8 episodes, none of which are two-parters) and we get a real conflict with her, truly establishing her as a villain who lies like crazy and who wants to destroy Marinette.

Then season four comes and Lila is once again forgotten about. She shows up more than she did in season two, but only as a background character and most episodes don't see her at all. She doesn't have a single line until the final three episodes of the season and her role in these episodes is exceedingly minor. She does a few petty things to remind you that she's awful, but she's not the focus of the plot. She's just there to remind you that she exists and to establish her and Chloe as coconspirators of some sort.

[image: a list of Lila's season four appearances (source)]

Then season five comes and Lila is back to being an active antagonist. She shows up in almost every episode and we even get her very lackluster defeat.

This is some of the worst pacing that I have ever seen. It's honestly impressively bad. I hope the issue speaks for itself, but in case it doesn't, you don't chop a story up like this without a good reason and, frankly, there isn't one. Lila's introduction, villain setup, and defeat should have all take place over the course of a season or two, forming a mini arc.

Just in case you don't know what that is, most stories have a main conflict that drives the whole narrative (ex: getting the butterfly miraculous back) but within that story you have lots of mini stories. Things that get resolved so that it feels like things are moving forward and so that the audience stays engaged. If you don't get any satisfying resolutions until five seasons in (or more), then the audience will start to get annoyed or just stop watching. It's also a good way to keep expectations from getting built up too high. If every season or every other season has a satisfying conclusion to some big conflict, then you don't leave everything riding on the big finale.

By chopping Lila's story up, you made the audience spend four seasons dreaming of her defeat. Expectations were sky high. She's more hated than Gabe! If she's been introduced mid season 4 and had the exact same story arc, then her lackluster take down would be a mild disappointment and not a major issue for most of the fandom.

Issue 2: Lila and Chloe Should Never have Coexisted

When it comes to story telling, characters fill roles. Ladybug is the lead. Alya is the plucky best friend. Gabriel is the big bad. Etc. Etc.

Generally speaking, you only want one character in a given role. Having two or more characters in the same role leads to character bloat where characters are fighting for screen time because they don't have a clear place in the story. This is especially true for key antagonistic roles. It's a lot easier to balance two best friends than it is to balance two big bads.

Enter Chloe and Lila.

I've mentioned before that I thought that Chloe was going to be redeemed. The reason I thought this was not because of anything to do with Chloe. It was because the show introduced Lila and, narratively speaking, Lila and Chloe are the same character. They're both petty school bullies whose main job is to cause trouble for Marinette while she's at school and to give setups for akumas.

However, in terms of perceived threat, Lila is the bigger badder Chloe. No one but Sabrina likes Chloe. Everyone but Marinette likes Lila. Chloe doesn't make plans. Lila lives to manipulate and plot. If you're going to get rid of Chloe, Lila is who you'd replace her with. That's just how this works.

One of the most well known examples of this type of setup is Zuko and Azula from Avatar the Last Airbender. Zuko is the main antagonist of season one, but season two sees him step out of that role as he starts his journey of self-discovery and redemption. And who is introduced at the end of seasons one? Azula, Zuko's evil, more powerful sister. In season two, Azula fills Zuko's former role, but also makes things feel more serious because she's a bigger badder Zuko.

This brings us back to a big part of issue one. Namely, Lila's ongoing disappearing act. She only does that because of Chloe.

Chloe is a much easier villain to write. She doesn't have to hide anything. She is openly petty and evil. So if you're going to pick a character for a petty conflict, you're going to pick Chloe. The only time Lila gets pulled in is when the drama revolves around lies because Chloe is actually a strikingly honest character. She rarely lied prior to her "friendship" with Lila because, for the most part, Chloe doesn't care if everyone hates her. She only cares about the opinions of a chosen few. (Or, at least, she acts like she does.)

For Lila to work, Chloe needed to be redeemed or written off the show. The best proof of this is season five, where Chloe straight up becomes Lila's minion because the writers had to force that relationship if they wanted to have both characters involved in the plot. It's also why season four saw Chloe suddenly obsessed with Marinette when, prior to that, Chloe bullied everyone. The only way to team Chloe and Lila up was to give them a common goal and that didn't exist in the first three seasons.

So, building off of point one, Lila should have been introduced much later and she should have stepped into Chloe's shoes after Chloe either switched roles or completely left the show.

Issue 3: The Lies

I think that we can all agree that Lila is a terrible liar. Even a toddler could see through the BS that spews from her mouth. There are multiple satisfying Lila takedown fics that don't involve clever plots to beat her. They involve Alya or someone else doing a google search because - even with the declining quality of that tool - that's still all that it would take to prove what Lila is.

This is a really bad way to write a character who is supposed to be a master manipulator. Especially when she's going to be the next big bad. They desperately needed to tone her down.

For example, DON'T have her claim to be Ladybug's best friend. Have her claim that Ladybug saved her. That would still go up on the Ladyblog and, more importantly, it would be a lot harder to disprove. I doubt that Ladybug remembers everyone she saves so no one would fault Alya for just taking that at face-value, but Marinette could still instantly peg Lila as a liar.

Tinnitus from saving Jagged Stone's cat? How about tinnitus from being too close to the speakers at Jagged Stone's latest concert? The concert where Lila even got to meet him because she had back stage passes. Once again, hard to disprove. Jagged meets a lot of fans. I doubt he'd be able to tell you that she was lying.

And definitely don't have her openly state that she's a liar. The fact that she did that and was STILL able to manipulate the adult characters is abysmal writing. Especially because it comes right before Lila disappears for a season, giving the impression that her confession essentially defeated her, only for the show to go PSYCH! No one cares about her confession, it meant nothing for the Lila conflict.

I've had someone tell me that they think that Lila's lies were suppose to be a joke and, to be fair, that's plausible. The show relies on a lot of ridiculous humor. If Lila had shown up later, then this might have worked. But because Lila has been around for so long, we've all had time to think about her lies and build up the expectation of how they'd be handled.

I don't just mean Lila being exposed. I mean the fallout of all of her "fans" having to deal with the truth of who Lila really is, an issue that I won't go into here because this is already super long and I think that the issue of how her lies effect characters like Nino and Alya is pretty well understood.

There's also the Chloe thing. Chloe is very over the top, so replacing her with a character who is over the top in a different, more terrifying way would have made some sense. But Chloe's still here and she's more ridiculous than ever, so Lila matching that ridiculous just makes them an annoying duo that we all have to suffer through. Their team up was one of the most forced elements of seasons five. I just do not buy that Chloe would ever subject herself to being someone's minion. When it comes to that team up, the hand of the author is glaring.

Conclusion/Final Thoughts

Manipulative characters are fun. They make for fantastic villains and Lila could have been one of these fantastic villain, especially if Gabriel was played as more sympathetic. If there were lines that Gabriel wouldn't cross, then Lila getting the butterfly would be terrifying. As-is, I don't see how she's any worse than the dude who created Chat Blanc. Plus I'm not even sure why she needs the butterfly. She could already get anything she wanted with minimal effort because her lying powers are so OP. Like, why should I care about that twist? What has changed with the passing of the butterfly? The stakes have not been raised. If anything, they've been lowered.

Lila is just your generic evil villain who is evil for evil's sake. The heroes already hate her. Finding out that she's the big bad is not emotionally devastating. If anything, Marinette should be thrilled that she finally has an excuse to punch Lila.

It's possible that the writers will give Lila an interesting back story, but because she's been around for five seasons, I don't have any faith that they will. I mean, what was the point of introducing her all the way back in season one if you weren't going to use that to set her up in a satisfying way? I've seen people say to just wait and see and wait for what? They couldn't manage to pull off Gabriel's defeat or Chloe's defeat/redemption or Lila's first takedown in a way that was narratively satisfying. Why should I give them a chance to disappoint me with Lila's next take down? Three strikes and you're out!

@tallwriter as requested, there are my thoughts on Lila. As with every character in this show, I think she deserved better. She could have been great. She's one of the worst examples of squandered potential because everything about her was done wrong.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt #Lila salt #Lila Rossi salt #Lila Rossi deserves better #She's got everything she needs to be the kind of character we all love to hate #Instead I see her and I just go “oh no not her. The writing is so bad when she's around.”

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otomelavenderhaze · 1 month ago

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Can we stop for a minute and think about Candy's perspective during that whole situation between Rayan and Marina?

I don't talk enough about the feminine perspective of our female lead when I talk about Rayan's route, but today I was reflecting.

Ok. I won't even get into much of "did he actually and unknowingly give the wrong idea to Marina and maybe even was too trusting of others, more than he should?" cuz, come on, we all know from Marina's mouth that it was all in her head and she was the one trying super hard to hook up with someone's else man, saying that if Candy got hurt or not in the process, that was none of her concern (well, the black eye me and my girl Candy could give to Marina was also none of our concern, but we didn't so), let's leave this on the side right now.

But let's actually talk about Rayan's behavior outside of it, like when the shit went down and we got a glimpse of what he looked like (probably) when Chloe died.

Candy was a true warrior through and through, honestly, she didn't break down enough during that process (couldn't be me, I would have gone crazy).

Why do I say that?

We saw before Candy being understanding, showing empathy and loyalty to her friends, even to her significant others, but Rayan's unwillingness to share what was happening with the death threats, the kinda stalking nature, and the prossecution, all to not put a burden even bigger on her shoulders, BUT THE PATIENCE SHE RETURNED WITH IT, she asked, she didn't really know what to do or give what he needed at the moment, but she was there.

She never stopped being there, no matter what curve ball the situation gave her. And it was more than many would do in such situation.

And okay, the restaurant moment, trying to make him go with her, was a miss. My girl was delulu there. No discussion.

But who could've thought Rayan would SIMPLY runaway like a scared teenage boy that crashed his mom's car? Nobody. The answer is nobody. Even thou, after he had done it I was like "oh, I saw something like this happening before on his route".

Even when he communicated to her that he wasn't even in town anymore, she was simply devastated. But never stopped trying to understand his side. And later when Eric was pointing out (kinda rightly so, I give him that much) and she got to actually defend DEFEND the man who bolted on her, that got unceremoniously into a train and was GONE, she showed that her loyalty was real.

Like Eric didn't know Rayan at that point. Candy could've so easily (and some answers were, to be fair) talked badly about his behavior to Eric as a moment of anger or hurt, she had every right to, but choosing not, is to her merit for sure.

And we all know how hurt she must have felt, because she was ready to fight the situation head-on with Rayan, however, Rayan was NOT ready to face the situation head-on with her

(not because he didn't trust her, I read as that's his defense mechanism, he runs. When he caught himself having feelings for Candy? He ran. When they kissed and it was coming real? He ran. He knows how to be brave, but first, my man bolts, that's his thing).

AND STILL, when he came back, she received him with open arms!! With love!! Forgiveness even!!

Some of us cheated on Rayan with Eric, but honestly, honestly?? No judgments here.

And later when Chani asked Candy to talk to Marina about what happened and Marina admitted all of those things, after everything that she saw that whole situation from Rayan's perspective, how hurted and out of himself he was for weeks and Candy didn't jump on Marina at any point???

Even when Marina was like "if you did get hurt by it in the end it was none of my concern" sociopath shit. Truly, what a bad person. Toxic. Selfish. Naive. Sociopath real shit.

Through it all, that damn war, Candy made it work.

And I daresay, they only survived that one because of her, because Candy did not give up.

I don't think it was very realist like, we at least should've sit with Rayan and have a conversation about that whole shutting us out of the situation that him at times did, at the very least, and pretend it didn't happen, shouldering it alone, always so forgiving, couldn't be any of us, let's be honest here, just Candy with her never-ending loyalty.

And maybe, just maybe, that arc with Marina could've been better if we saw more of Candy's feelings and her expressing them to Rayan in a justifiable way (not like the restaurant thing, which was pushing a situation that didn't have to happen) but actually giving out a real moment.

A moment when we could actually express our feelings and even justify kissing Eric if some of us wanted to. But at once, actually seeing Candy getting hurt by Rayan's attitude, understandable getting upset, and expressing it to him to then he apologizes. Not having him just magically understanding what he did wrong and apologise without any of her input.

Just as I take my imaginary hat off for how adult and loyal Candy was in that whole situation, I also missed having the hurt she felt expressed properly to Rayan and I know he would understand and even grow from it. Another missing chance to improve Rayan as a character.

#my candy love #amor doce #corazon de melon #personal #Rayan Zaidi #it's been what two years?#kkkkkkkkk #I blame everybody who finds still my screenshots and make me go back to read those y'all bring it back to me

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dalekofchaos · 3 months ago

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We should've learned more about Max's parents

One of the things that annoys me about Life Is Strange is we never get any substance about Max's relationship with her parents.

She never answers her mom, but has no problem replying to her dad. Despite her dad dragging Max away from a grieving Chloe.

There's really no evidence to support Vanessa Caulfield is a bad mother or was harmful towards Max in any way shape or form. For all I know she could be a controlling mom over her neurodivergent child(I should know, my former friend is in that situation)

You could paint it as Vanessa is more outwardly abusive(control freak, domineering over Max's life), but Max’s dad Ryan is a pushover like Enid's dad from Wednesday and does whatever she tells him to (like, for example, “Time to go from William’s funeral, grab Max and make sure she comes along”) but she encourages Max's dreams. But since he doesn’t seem as bad as Vanessa on the surface, Max thinks of him as the one she can trust more (which is something she’d need to unpack in therapy at some point, cause in this scenario they’re both awful parents/people).

Maybe in a proper rewrite or a sequel that doesn't do a fucking 10 year timeskip, we could see some insight into Max's family life and why Max cut her mom out of her life.

You could add this during episode 3 or 4. Ryan and Vanessa return to Arcadia Bay after hearing all the crazy shit that's going on. A kid trying to commit suicide, freaky weather, a girl gone missing and their daughter caught up in the middle of all this. Ryan at first nicely asks Max to come home. Max insists that she's needed at Blackwell and she can't leave Chloe again. Vanessa then puts her foot down. She demands that Max come home and refuse to give Max a say in the matter. Chloe and Warren are defending Max from her mother. Vanessa tells Chloe "I don't know what the hell happened to you Chloe, but you will not drag my daughter down to your level, unlike you she actually has a future" then depending on who you choose between Chloe and Warren. With Chloe "Max I didn't sacrifice everything so you can go out and claim to be gay" with Warren "I don't know who you think you are, but you are nowhere near good enough for my daughter" and then Joyce shuts Vanessa down and defends Chloe and stands up for Max. If you sided with Chloe in episode 3, then Max gets the courage to finally stand up to Vanessa. "NO! I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU! You don't get it, do you mom? I didn't just come back to Arcadia Bay for Blackwell and Chloe, I came back to Arcadia to get away from you. You suffocate me. I was practically dragged from my grieving childhood best friend at her father's funeral when she needed me most. I know well enough to know pop wouldn't have done that without your say so. And maybe I never contacted Chloe for 5 years, because I was scared how you would react. You kept telling me "don't bother worrying about Chloe, you'll make new friends" meanwhile Chloe was going through hell, did you even bother to reach out to Joyce after William died, because it sure seems like you were in such a hurry to leave them behind and didn't care how it would affect Chloe or me. I was grieving too, William was like a second father to me and I needed the support, me and Chloe needed each other and you took her from me. God, I am sick of your need to control EVERY aspect of my life. My best friend tried to kill herself, Chloe's girlfriend is missing and there's a serial killer and a practical end of the world storm coming and I need to help stop what's coming. So please leave me be and just maybe, I will come home when all this is done and we can talk. But until then, just trust me and learn to respect my boundaries and me as a person mom. Vanessa laments and apologizes to Chloe, Warren, Joyce and most of all Max. Ryan smiles and wishes his daughter good luck and wishes Max happiness with Chloe or Warren. If you sided with David, David surprisingly stands up for Max and order Vanessa to leave their house or he would call the police.

but there is no evidence to support that as all her texts seem to be a supportive and worried mother. Max does give vague responses as the episodes go on, but leaving a parent in the dark like that but giving more to her dad more just makes you wonder...

Max and her mother sewed a cushion together, and thinking of the day they did that makes Max smile. She brings the cushion with her to Arcadia Bay and it is on her bed in her room. Max's mother sends Max a $200 dollar gift certificate and a box of chocolate coconut bites for her birthday. She and Max's father also send Max a birthday message. and Max mentions Vanessa is into true crime. So it might not be as bad as I made her out to be, but the complete lack of context and Max's lack of response to her mother just makes more to be desired.

I always thought this was because Max was just distracted with the investigation and finding out she has powers but she has the time to text other people. So it's weird.

And there doesn't seem to be a hint that we will get more answers about Max's family in Double Exposure. She ignores Vanessa like nothing ever happened and there is very little to suggest we'd ever see them.

I mean if we could actually see Chloe's family, house, William and her deteriorating relationship with her mom and her hatred of David. Hell, we get insight into Victoria's parents as she's pressured by her gallery owning parents. We know the horror story of the Prescott family and we see Kate having a doting father, but a domineering religious mother and a zealout of an aunt. We actually know nothing about Warren, but I chalk that up to DONTNOD being lazy and I know SE has no plans to revisit his character. But I choose to see Warren as the male Matilda. He had neglectful parents, so he found comfort in science, sci-fi and a lot of obscure but retro stuff. They were neglectful when he's young, but learning to be harsh/strict as he's shown his potential as a genius. But of course anything of substance for Warren's character is asking too much..

We should have seen Max's home life and even her childhood home in Arcadia Bay. We should have seen Max's dynamic with her parents whether it's a fucked up dynamic or not. we really should have gotten more of that explored in game.

#Life Is Strange #Pricefield #Grahamfield #Max Caulfield #Chloe Price #Vanessa Caulfield #Ryan Caulfield #Joyce Price #David Madsen #Warren Graham

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imthepunchlord · 2 months ago

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on one hand i feel like it’d probably be better for balancing to give marinette a miraculous since there’s currently so few calamitous and it’d probably be best to give those to the villains so there can be multiple antagonists, HOWEVER i adore the concept of marinette having a calamitous because it’s so interesting!! like how did she get it? why does she have it? so many questions that could end up having a cool backstory behind it, and i also just love the idea of marinette having to prove herself to the team and work to earn their trust. the concept is just fascinating to me tbh

If it happens, it would be interesting to see. And could be quite tense with what I'm initially thinking so far for how Miraculous and Calamitous work.

Both work off having deals made.

For Miraculous fairies, it's a contract that's to be upheld. They offer to grant a small wish for their humans (very small stuff that won't effect too many others, just their human), but in return that human is expected to step up as a hero and help others or their agenda. And that wish will stay granted so long as the human does as the fairy wants them to. These fairies are fine terminating their deal when the human wants to, or it's time to move on, though humans are to be aware that the continuance of the wish stops (which depending on the wish, may not effect much).

Calamitous fairies though, it's more a deal with a devil that entirely works off that fairy's benefit. They'll grant any wish, big or small, they'll "work" for your agenda, so long as you throw the world into chaos. And the humans that do wind up with a Calamitous, they technically get what they want, but not exactly what they want. And any human that tries to terminate their deal usually have an ill fate given that they're no longer "partners".

Calamitous fairies typically prefer to go to the worst or those that are at their lowest so they're easier to manipulate to play off that low emotional state, so IF Marinette did get one, she'd be a rarity. Most likely, it's her finding one by sheer accident as they like to "latch" onto humans and immediately strike that deal. Most likely was aiming for Chloe and she unknowingly got in the way.

And as I prefer comedy over angst, Endurr/Arrdor are going to find it's not so easy working with Marinette.

Endurr would try to intimidate Marinette into submission, only to get pillowed into submission himself or will wind jarred until he stops being so mean or is ready to leave her alone! Cause she didn't ask for this! Only Endurr is too proud to just up and leave... that's admitting defeat. If Weeve ever found out, he would never live it down. She would stalk him, cackling over his failure for centuries...

So he stays to try and make this work. He'll pressure her into doing bad. To be chaotic. She thinks she's unlucky, he'll make it worse!

Doesn't matter how much she picks up herself, or how much she rolls with the punches. She has to break sometime.

Chloe and Lila are terrible to her. Surely she wants revenge? To get back at them.

No?!

By Oberon, he's so irritated, he wants to take it out on these two girls for daring to harass his human. She's his to try and mess with. And if they're not going to help in their battle of wills they shouldn't bother!

And can she stop offering him cookies!

They're delicious and he hates it.

Arrdor would try to manipulate Marinette emotionally, but he works best over selfish-possessive-toxic people. And Marinette at the core is a selfless, empathetic, and compassionate person. She's going to challenge him on some of these points. She's going to drive him crazy with her need to help others cause no! We're here to cause chaos! We here to upset people!

Ok, yes, yES. Stealing your crush's phone! Now we're talking! Go through it! Discover his secrets! No! Don't just delete the voice mail! At least trash! Throw it in the Seine! DON'T GIVE IT BACK!

And what's worse for Arrdor is that, sometimes, he feels... colorful. He feels... pink.

It's the little things that cause this. They're what's at fault.

She doesn't like him. But she still brings him food.

She made himself a mini gothic dollhouse to haunt.

She'll ask his opinion, wanting a genuine opinion to the topic and not him arguing for arguing sake. And the few times he humors her, he feels heard.

And he... he feels.... warm. Tranquil. Pink.

But he's not pink. He's gray. He's gray. He's gray. He's gray. He'sgrayhe'sgrayhe'sgrayhe'sgrayhe'sgr--

#ask Punchie #bugettes au #marinette just killing them with kindness

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ilikekidsshows · 3 months ago

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I'll never forgive this show for how outright emotionally toxic they made Marinette. She's like an abusive boyfriend who tells his girlfriend to always tell him if something is wrong and then makes everything about herself and tells the gf what to "truly" feel because HE is so "mature and experienced" unlike the gf

Didn't Marinette do exactly that with Shadybug when she dared to say that Marinette has a great life in comparison to her? Marinette outright told her "you're wrong" and acted as if she's kind for invalidating her opinion and feelings because she thinks SHE KNOWS BETTER and doesn't have anything good in her life

Anyone who thinks they know pain thats bigger than Marinette's is "wrong" and Marinette a kind martyr for telling people how to be and what to feel to be "correct like her". I despise how Marinette treated Shadybug, but no one talks about that. Marinette as good as bullied Shadybug into giving in jn shame and do whatever Marinette says is the next right thing for her to do and be to be "better". Marinette should have a restraining order against her, she treats people like playdoo in her hands to validate her hero and victim complex.

That's all Marinette ever does in s4 Ladynoir too. When Chat speaks up about not liking something Ladybug "teaches" him that his feelings and perspective are wrong and petty and that he has to get over it cause she's right and a benevolent goddess and he's just some pathetic cat who needs to be taught how to exist "right" cause she cant ever be truly in the wrong. Didn't she scream in his face in Glaciator 2 as Marinette that HIS feelings don't exist, and it's all about her? That's textbook definition of emotionally abusive. Telling others their feelings and perspective doesn't exist and it's all about you. It's crazy that Marinette is being supported for this by the fandom, I hope her fans aren't in relationships...

Or in Revelation, Marinette decides for the whole class that Chloe doesn't get to have a chance and effort anymore because SHE says so due to HER experience. And the others were made out to be naive backstabbers for not instantly falling in line with Marinette making it her class president speech to make support now conditional on HER opinion of the person. Cause that's not fucked up at all, no no no. Let's hope she's never truly angry with a friend cause she might just decide that they're unworthy of the whole support system she rules "cause she says so" (funny, isn't that what she did to Chat?)

She did not ask anyone WHY they think Chloe still deserve a chance, she just decided that SHE knows better and must teach everyone what to feel and think again.

And then she was pissed when that didn't work.

---

It all boils down to the same thing I keep saying: Marinette is always the one whose problems are the most important, and her minor grievances are more important than whether or not other people die. Of course she's going to tell Shadybug she has it just as bad as her, if not worse, just because she doesn't instantly get everything she wants every day of the week and sometimes some ineffectual mean girl says bad things about her. The most popular girl in school with all the local super celebrities as her friends and a loving, well-off family, who's also a superhero with a 100% approval rating sometimes has to be inconvenienced and she isn't constantly macking on her desired boytoy, so she's just suffering so much, it's unbearable for her. We should feel sorry for her.

Marinette is the icon of any dissatisfied little girl with no real problems who's just frustrated at still being a kid with little freedom and takes it out on her friends by giving them the silent treatment because they didn't agree with her over something. Marinette is the fantasy of being the single most special and important person in the universe, where everyone else is little more than an NPC that exists to praise you or serve as a minor obstacle that you can easily overcome in order to feel good about yourself. The thing about this kind of fantasy is that you have to be completely uncritical in order to enjoy it, the instant you start to wonder if perhaps someone else deserves some glory too or if the other characters should get to have priorities outside of the protagonist's wants, the game is lost. That's why Marinette stans only think about her actions in terms of how they can excuse them. It's about enjoying the power fantasy.

A lot of power fantasies get defended with the claim that such protagonists aren't meant to be emulated, that it's purely cathartic. But kids try to emulate everything they see on TV, sometimes even when it's something they “should know” shouldn't be applied in real life. This is why you don't see punches connect in children's cartoons, the impact shot instead gets cut away with a jump cut or replaced with an impact graphic or flash. Kids will see the characters they relate to punch people and it being a good thing, and the next thing you know they'll be punching someone for real as part of a game of make belief. There's a reason kids' power fantasy media usually involves harmless scenarios like your belief in the Easter Bunny and Jack Frost saving the world from the Boogeyman and not the kind of stuff you see in an isekai harem anime or the stuff you'd expect from the villain of a school story.

Marinette constantly treats the people around her as unimportant, and she really does act and talk like she thinks their concerns are nonexistent in comparison to hers. The one time Marinette can be bothered to think about others it's when she has nothing going on first, and even then she just forces her ideas on what others need on them like, you know, a power fantasy isekai protagonist. She also does act as the leader of the friend group. I know she's the class representative, but that doesn't mean she should be giving orders to her friends and telling them what to think, but, as of the retool, that's exactly what she's doing. She's literally the Queen Bee archetype, and it shows in how she gets away with committing a literal crime at school in 'Confrontation'.

I don't think a protagonist for a kids' show should be shown consistently treating the people around her like shit, simply because showing and addressing such a storyline over several seasons takes so much time that it makes it harder to connect cause and effect. It's just a hard lesson to teach in such a format. Kids would see something being shown uncritically/as not that bad for potentially years before the show turns around and says it’s bad, actually. The fact that the narrative doesn't even go for this, but instead expects us to side with Marinette is more annoying, though, than if they’d just been that incompetent. Now the actual point is to be uncritical of Marinette’s self-centeredness.

This is why the target audience for Miraculous being so unclear annoys me so much. Do they expect the audience to see Marinette as a role model or is the audience meant to see that what she's doing is actually bad in real life but to also enjoy it as a fictional fantasy of being the most important, specialest person ever? You can expect the latter kind of more complex thinking from teenagers, who enjoy power fantasies possibly the most out of any demographic, but that means that Miraculous’ target audience jumped from preschoolers to middle schoolers because they decided they’d rather be uncritical of Marinette’s personality flaws. But the biggest part of merchandising for this show is still toys aimed at preteens, and even the toys reflect the new “The New Adventures of Ladybug and Ladybug Alone” approach of the show with the latest, insanely overpriced, Magic Heroez Transformation Surprise toy line being nothing but Marinette with the other characters’ Miraculouses. “If you like any hero other than Marinette, fuck you, you stupid kids!”

#ml salt #ml writers salt #ml merch salt

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bibiwrld · 1 year ago

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Nerdy loser Anakin Skywalker!— Turned Bad Boy!

Pairing: Nerdy loser Anakin! x Black fem oc!

Author’s note: I honestly thought this was a cute and funny idea. Kinda short, but I’m thinking of a part 2, idk.

Bad boy! Bad boy!

Whatcha gonna do?

Can’t run away from ‘em

💋!

They weren’t girlfriend and boyfriend, that’s what they agreed on until Sydnee was ready and he was fine with that. Anakin thought what they had was special and he wouldn’t want to ruin it, but he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous when he’d see Sydnee talking to other guys around campus. They didn’t look like Anakin, they looked cooler— wearing fashionable and darker clothes, messy dark hair, piercings, always had a cigarette between their lips and they spoke with such vulgars words.

Was that allowed? Talking to other people?

Even if he wanted to, Anakin couldn’t, no other girl caught his eyes quite like Sydnee did. She was the only one for him.

He paced his living room with his phone to his ear, listening to it ring. “Pick up, pick up—”

“Anakin, it’s late, this better be some type of emergency.” Obi-Wan, his older brother, groaned.

“I-it is!” Anakin interjected, standing in place. “I met a girl.” His voice now a little more hushed.

Obi-Wan almost choked. “A girl?!”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” He said with rolled eyes. “I just need..a–a little advice.”

“I’m your older brother, that’s what I’m here for.”

“Do you think girls like edgy bad boys?” He plopped down on his couch.

“Some girls do, yeah. Girls think they’re cooler, more attractive, assertive. They like laid back guys, very nonchalant, guys who just don’t give a shit, y’know?”

Anakin was none of those things.

“I should just fake it, huh?” He adjusted his glasses.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Little did Obi-Wan know what he told his younger brother, was the worst advice ever.

Right after that phone call, Anakin went on a shopping spree. Buying a new wardrobe that consisted of dark tees with cool graphics, dark long sleeved shirts and baggy jeans. He also stopped at Target and bought black and blue hair dye, fake piercings and contact lenses.

He stood in front of his mirror, listening to the audiobook of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, with a patch of blue in his hair.

He couldn’t believe he was going through with this. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling.

His arms grew tired as he dabbed a section of his hair with a hair dye brush coated in black hair dye. He prayed this came out good, finally putting a clear plastic cap on his head.

💋

“I was thinking of hitting up this club tomorrow night, I heard they got male strippers.” Lilian slowly scrolled on her phone giggling.

“Wait for real?” Chloe leaned all the way into Lilian trying to look at her phone. “Oh my God, they’re hot.”

Sydnee didn’t really care to look, she had other things to worry about, like where Anakin was. He didn’t send a good morning text like he usually does every morning, as he’s always up before her, she hasn’t seen him around campus and it usually doesn’t take long for her to see him walking around.

“What’s your problem, Sydnee?” June asked with obvious attitude, chewing her gum obnoxiously as her nails clicked against her phone.

Sydnee doesn’t know why she still hung around this girl, she was so rude and annoying. “I’m just wondering where Anakin is, that’s all.”

“Now that you mention it, I didn’t see him in Physics today.” Chloe rested her chin into her palm, suddenly thinking about Anakin.

“Seriously girl?” June scoffed. “You’re still hung up on that guy? It was one thing to fuck him, but to actually give a shit about him is crazy.”

Sydnee’s fist balled up, slowly turning her head towards the obnoxious snob. Before Sydnee or Chloe could say something in defense of Anakin, Lilian cut them off.

“Is that..is that Anakin?” Her tone was a mix of surprised and a bit of disbelief.

Sydnee quickly turned around, searching the busy cafeteria for the boy with glasses, but she didn’t see him at all. She squinted, then noticed a tall guy in an army green tee, baggy ash jeans, grey converse and black, messy hair, sluggishly walking over to them.

She could only stare in awe, her eyes just following him as he got closer. She noticed he had on black eye shadow, messily smeared on his lids.

He dropped his bag on the floor, sitting beside Sydnee. “Hey doll face.” He removed the cigarette from his lips, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Doll face?” Sydnee silently muttered to herself. He’s never talked like that, ever.

“Sup girls?” He nodded to the 3 girls.

“Uh..hey?” Lilian rose a brow.

“What’s with the look?” Chloe asked.

He focused hard on every word, trying not to stutter.

“Can’t a guy express himself?” He snapped, slouching and spreading his legs.

“I think he looks better this way.” June gave small nods.

Of course she did.

Sydnee rolled her eyes at June, then brought her attention back to Anakin. She reached her hand out to fix his hair . “You have bed head, Ani—”

He corrected her, moving his head so she couldn’t touch it. “Anakin and that’s just how my hair is.”

“Well Anakin, you missed Physics class.” She narrowed her eyes at him, taken back by his actions. “And you didn’t text me, I was worried.” Her voice softened, a pout on her lips.

He took a small drag from his cigarette. “Woke up late.” It took everything in him not to choke.

“You never wake up late.” Her brows furrowed.

“Are you wearing eye makeup?” Chloe leaned over, examining him.

His voice was a bit shaky, trying to maintain that dominant tone. “No…?”

“Okay, liar.” Lilian chuckled.

Sydnee looked him over and over again, noticing every detail about him. She didn’t hate the look, but she was a bit confused.

“What’s with the cigarette? You don’t even smoke cigarettes.” Sydnee felt like she was losing her mind. “And your hair…did you dye this yourself? And when did you get all these piercings?”

Anakin shrugged. “I’ve found myself, y’know?”

Sydnee knew something was up, but she didn’t know what. “Where are your glasses?”

“Don’t need em.” Smoke escaped his pink lips.

“Can you stop with the smoking? We’re indoors.” She screwed up her face.

“Whatever.” He took the cigarette from his lips, smushing it at the heel of shoe, then flicked it off somewhere.

June then jumped in. “Why don’t you stop complaining and appreciate that your boy toy looks hot?”

That was it.

Sydnee grabbed her bag and abruptly stood up. “Go fuck each other.” Looking June and Anakin in the eyes before storming off.

Anakin internally panicked, this wasn’t going how he planned it was.

“What’s her deal?” June screwed up her face.

“You obviously don’t know what the deal is because there is no fucking deal.” He spat before grabbing his bag to chase after Sydnee.

Sydnee hustled down the hall, stepping harshly with arched brows.

“Sydnee!” His voice called out. “Sydnee!”

She rolled her eyes and stopped walking, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. “What is it, Anakin?”

“Y-you’re mad.” He frowned, standing in front of her.

“Well duh.”

“I-I’m sorry.” He breathed out. “I thought you’d like m-me..like this.”

“I don’t hate how you look, but the way you’re acting, why would I like that?” She looked away.

“B-Because I saw you talking t-to guys…that l-looked like this.” He breathed out. “I-I thought i-if I–uh— if I looked and acted like them, maybe you’d l-like me more.” He hung his head low.

Her arms gradually unfolded at his confession. “Anakin, what?”

“I-I know, it’s sooo em-embarrassing.” He groaned. “I-I hate cigarettes!” He then tugged off one of the fake earrings. “Th-these aren’t even real!”

Sydnee couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re too cute, Anakin.” She cupped his face, bringing it down to hers.

“Call me Ani, plea-please, I like it when you call m-me that.” He nuzzled his face into her hands.

She couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t ever change yourself, I like you just as you are.” She brought her lips to his, tasting the cigarette he smoked, but she didn’t care.

His hands found her waist, bringing her in closer.

The smacking of their lips were the only things heard in the empty halls. She softly tugged on his bottom lip, making him moan out.

“So cute.” She muttered before pulling away. “You do look really hot though.”

“Really?” He beamed.

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “How about we go back to your place and fuck with your little bad boy cosplay on, hm?”

He covered his mouth in excitement. “Oh my God, y-you’re so insanely a-attractive.”

She giggled, holding his hand. “Come on, bad boy Anakin.”

💋

#my works💌🌷#anakin the nerd💋!#college anakin skywalker #nerdy anakin skywalker #sw anakin #college anakin #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #nerdy anakin #soft Anakin Skywalker #star wars anakin #modern anakin #bad boy anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker smut

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venusvity · 7 months ago

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CHAPTER ??? : THE DEVOTEE

STARRING ... CHLOE LEE & JUNG JUYEON WORD COUNT ... 3K SUMMARY ... The hopelessly devoted comes face to face with their idol only to find she is not as kind as she seems. TRIGGER WARNINGS ... Self-harm. Abuse of power. Blood. Manipulation. Mentions of past sexual abuse and abusive relationships. Fan x Idol relationship. Juyeon is kinda lowkey a sasaeng, but that's neither here nor there. Mentally Ill Characters.

“I know everything about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

Juyeon nods like a dumb dog, with wide eyes yet a stoic expression, making Chloe smile brighter at him and tilt her head.

“What’s my favorite color?”

“Purple. Lilac.” He barely even needs a second, causing Chloe to give him an impressed look, nodding. Her eyes scan him slowly as if she’s a snake watching her pray nussle his way through the garden so unaware, so unexpecting.

Chloe hums, inching closer to him. Juyeon’s breath caught slightly at their knees, barely brushing as they sat on her bed. He hopes she doesn’t notice, but she does. Chloe notices everything. She has to. Bad things happen when she doesn’t pay attention. At least that’s what she tells herself, hoping never to repeat her past mistakes.

“What’s my mom’s name?”

“Kimberly. She’s a lawyer. And your dad’s name is Jeff. He’s also a lawyer. He adopted you when you were six.” Chloe is so intrigued by how someone could know so much about a person they never met. Sena is like that with her little celebrity crushes, but Chloe thinks Sena is a loser. She tries not to view Juyeon in such a harsh light, but it’s hard with how he is. He’s a kind loser, though. A kind loser dedicated to her and only her. That makes him different.

Chloe reaches out and puts her hand on his knee. Juyeon blinks down at her hand like he can’t believe she’s really there. Chloe wonders what he’s thinking as he sits in her room in the middle of the night. He looks like a small and fuzzy animal that Chloe can’t think of the name of right now. She bets his heart is beating like crazy, and his mind is racing trying to rationalize how he got here.

He’ll never conclude because there is no rationale behind it. Nothing Chloe does when it comes to men is rational.

“You’re so special, Juyeon. You make me feel safe,” Chloe tells him in a sickly, sweet voice, smiling at him. Juyeon smiles proudly at her words, looking as if he has gained an ounce of confidence right in front of her. Chloe likes that. She likes that a lot.

“Good,” Juyeon nods. “You deserve to feel safe, Chloe.”

Those words strike something in her that makes her lips twitch. It’s true; she deserves to feel safe, so why didn’t she get that liberty years ago? Why did she go through what she did? Why can she still feel the crisp air from that night? Why doesn’t she actually feel safe years later and in the privacy of her own home? Chloe has so many questions she can’t answer and knows no one else can either.

The only person who could give her maybe some closer is dead. A pile of ash remains in the dirt. It’s not like Hyojin would’ve given her the relief of a reason anyway. He wanted Chloe to suffer for as long as she could, and she has.

Chloe inhales deeply through her nose, trying to get out of her head as she looks at Juyeon, who stares at her with nothing but awe and admiration. Chloe tilts her head, reaching out and touching his cheek. He gives that same look of shock as he did when she put her hand on his knee just a moment ago, making her chuckle quietly like she’s endeared.

“Juyeon,” Chloe sings playfully as she leans in closer to him, “Have you ever been touched like this before?”

He’s a grown man, but Chloe isn’t naive. He’s been her fansite for three years. She can’t imagine many women throwing themselves at him, even with his cute exterior. Juyeon is awkward and at times off-putting, but not to Chloe—No, to Chloe, it’s endearing because he only wants her. No one else could want Juyeon because he only wants her. That’s what made him special. That’s what made him safe.

Juyeon shakes his head with a sheepish laugh.

“N-No. I study a lot, and when I don’t study, I…” He motions towards her, tilting his head slightly to lean into her palm, obviously liking the touch. “I’m taking pictures of you…I don’t really talk to girls like this.”

Chloe rubs her lips together, smiling.

“Why not?”

“Hm?” Juyeon raises his brows. Chloe hums. She wants to hear him say it.

“Why don’t you talk to girls? You’re a really handsome guy, Juyeon. Girls probably throw themselves at you.”

Juyeon genuinely laughs at that, shaking his head.

“Oh no. No…Not me. They don’t–Girls don’t notice me.” Chloe pouts almost mockingly at Juyeon’s confession, clicking her tongue with a pitiful ‘aw’ as she drops his hand from his cheek. For a moment, he looks disappointed until Chloe climbs in his lap, a surprised expression taking over his face, and her hands find purchase on his shoulders.

“Why don’t girls notice you, Juyeon?” Chloe asks with a voice feigning pity as she situates herself in his lap. Her smile slowly turns into a smirk the more she watches his face. She can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows audibly when their hips touch, keeping his eyes locked with hers.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, leaving them hovering awkwardly over her hips like he’s not allowed to touch her. Chloe likes that. She likes touching him without asking, but he wouldn’t dare do the same to her. Chloe likes being in control.

Juyeon shrugs his shoulders, causing Chloe’s hands to slide to the side of his neck. She can feel his pulse racing beneath her fingers. It makes her nearly giddy that she is right about that.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Do you want them to notice you?” Chloe asks, voice soft like they’re sharing secrets. She supposes they are. At least, Juyeon is.

“Not really,” Juyeon answers swiftly, almost sounding eager. Chloe hums, taking his face into her hands and running her thumbs across his sharp jawline.

“Tell me why.”

Juyeon blinks up at her, gulping quietly.

“Because…I only…” There’s a long pause, but Chloe waits, knowing she’ll get the answer she wants if she lets him work it out in his head. Juyeon reaches up to where her hands rest on his face, hovering over Chloe’s but not touching her.

“I only want you.”

It's like a switch was finally flipped in Chloe’s brain. She smiles proudly, nodding at him and leaning forward to press her forehead to his.

“You’re such a good boy, Juyeon.” Chloe kisses his cheek at that, leaving behind a pretty pink lipgloss mark as she does so. Juyeon makes a small sound when she kisses his skin, hands still awkwardly in the air as they ball into fists, unsure how to cope with the emotions inside him. Chloe looks at his hands, taking his wrists into her palms and guiding him to where they should be on her waist. His breathing stops for a second, taking a second before fully holding her in his palms for the first time. Juyeon looks up at her like she’s an unspoken God, his full lips parted like he’s about to say something, but the words just don’t come out. He’s so pathetic, Chloe thinks with a coy smile.

“Jueyon,” Chloe whispers like a soothing siren call, taking his chin between her fingers to keep him looking up at her. “What would you do for me?”

“Anything,” Juyeon answers with an ounce of hesitancy, making Chloe bite her bottom lip with a low hum. She smiles, her eyes darkening slightly.

"Anything?" she asks again, her voice warm and inviting. Juyeon nods, his heart pounding in his chest.

Chloe leans in closer, her breath hot against Juyeon's ear. She whispers a single question, barely audible but laden with promise.

"Want to prove it?” Her words are taunting and even daunting, making Juyeon’s throat tight. He nods regardless, waiting for her word to move. Chloe easily crawls out of his lap, moving swiftly towards her desk.

She’s had this planned before she invited Juyeon over—the ultimate test of his devotion. It’ll prove not only how loyal he is to her but how far he’ll go for her. Chloe likes pushing people, especially men, even sweet ones like Juyeon. She figures she likes them more when they’re sweet like she’s preparing them for how cruel and harsh the world is, something she wished someone had done to her before she collided with Hyojin.

Often, there are days when Chloe sits in her room and stares at the floor, remembering who she used to be. People talk about the person Chloe once was with sorrow, mourning her despite her still being alive. Chloe was sweet, Chloe was kind, and Chloe had a light inside her that burned brighter than a thousand sunsets, but that Chloe died in a field at the hands of several men who didn’t care how hard she cried and pleaded for them to stop touching her. That Chloe was so decomposed by this point she was not even bones; she was nothing but dust in the dirt, waiting to be blown away by a gust of wind that never came.

Chloe puts out a pink boxcutter to Juyeon, pushing up the blade with her thumb, filling the room with several clicking sounds. She raises her brows at him, smiling warmly at Juyeon’s widened gaze on the blade in her hand.

“I want my name on you.”

Juyeon takes a deep breath through his nose, shaky and uncertain, before his gaze lifts to Chloe’s face. He still looks like a dumb dog to her, eyes wide and full of something Chloe can’t pinpoint, but she thinks it’s fear. It feels like she’s holding her breath in the best way, her head feeling light and her stomach in the tightest knots. She raises her brows at his look, letting out a hum of disappointment that makes Juyeon quickly shake his head before she can even voice any discontentment.

“Where? Where do you want your name?” His words are choppy, overthinking each one as his eyes dart around before deciding to settle on the carpet where Chloe stood. Chloe smiles, striding towards him, causing Juyeon to lean back slightly to stay out of reach of the blade. Chloe’s dark brown eyes scan Juyeon’s body, taking in his near-perfect posture. Her eyes linger over his chest, puckering her lips as her gaze rakes over his arms like he’s a piece of meat she’s inspecting at the market for dinner.

Chloe jabs a pink polished nail into his bicep, nodding as an excited smile grows on her lips. Juyeon’s head follows her finger, thick lips curling in, but he says nothing. Slowly, he reaches for the box cutter in Chloe’s hand. Chloe can see his hand shaking as it extends in midair, reaching to meet hers. Her eyes widen in excitement, flicking up to watch his face as he wraps his hand tightly around the tool.

Chloe knows he doesn’t want to do this. She can see it on his face, how his body tensed, and how hesitant he is to roll up his sleeve, but she doesn’t care.

The first cut is too shallow for Chloe. He barely breaks the skin but still hisses at the sensations. Blood barely beads from the cat's scratch, making Chloe shake her head disapprovingly.

“Don’t be a bitch about it,” Chloe tells him gruffly, grabbing the hair at the crown of Juyeon’s head, shaking him by it as if to physically shake out the worries and doubts filling his head. Juyeon lets out a pathetic sound that Chloe can’t decipher if it’s a moan or not. Either way, she smirks, letting go of his hair to smack the side of his head like she’s hitting a beach ball. “Do it right. I want to see you bleed. That’s the point. You’re supposed to prove how much you like me–”

“I love you,” Juyeon corrects, breathing heavier than Chloe thinks he should, so she smacks the other side of his head, laughing at how he just takes it, moving in every direction Chloe pushes and pulls him. Chloe coos at his whiny words, grabbing him by the hair again and pulling his head back to look up at her as she leans closer to him. He smells like oranges and cedar. It makes Chloe hum, tracing the bridge of his nose with the tip of hers.

“Then prove it,” She whispers, pulling his head back with a final tug before letting go of him. She stands in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest in refusal to touch him until he gives her what she wants.

Chloe proves to be a bloody name to spell into the skin.

Blood drips and pours from the cuts on Juyeon’s bicep, running down his forearm and tangling in the hair. The arm with her name now forever etched into it twitches and shakes as she runs a wet washrag over the wound. He takes shaky breaths with every swipe, eyes wet and dripping with tears that run down his high cheekbones. Chloe thinks he looks cute like this, a gentle smile on her lips as she tends to his wound. There’s blood on her sheets, but Chloe doesn’t care. There’s a sick sense of pleasure winding inside her at the sight of the crimson staining her once spotless pink sheets. They’re now like her, she thinks, like Juyeon too. Juyeon is forever marked with her, a mark he can never get rid of even if he tries.

He’s tainted. No one wanted tainted meat.

Chloe leans in to kiss the side of his head, feeling Juyeon lean into her touch almost instantly. He keeps leaning in, ducking his head down to rest on her chest with tightly shut eyes as his not-injured arm wraps around her waist to keep her close. Chloe smiles at that, running a hand through his silky black hair.

“I love you, Juyeon,” Chloe tells him because she knows he wants to hear it. She isn’t sure if she really does love him, more so she’s obsessed with him but not like he is with her. Juyeon moans quietly into her skin at her words, holding her waist tighter before loosening his hold. Chloe looks down at him before turning her head to look at his arm.

He’s still bleeding. Chloe figures it won’t stop until she puts a bandage on it. She stares at the cuts, a dull buzzing taking over her body as she reaches out and swipes her finger across the cuts, pressing down so the skin drags and rips further beneath her touch. Juyeon groans, wincing against her, but doesn’t lift his head, wanting to stay as close to her as possible. Chloe looks at the blood covering the tip of her finger, tilting her head at it like she’s never seen anything like it before. She presses the digit on the pad of her tongue, dragging it down to clean herself of Juyeon’s blood, leaving a streak of red behind.

Chloe hums at the taste, puckering her lips as she thinks about what to compare him to. He tastes sweet but metallic, reminding her of a not-yet-ripe grapefruit.

“So sweet,” Chloe hums, rubbing Juyeon’s back as a reward. Juyeon lifts his head just a bit to press into her neck, taking a deep breath, causing goosebumps to rise on Chloe’s arms. “You really would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

Juyeon only nods, the wetness of his face smudging against the skin of Chloe’s neck. Chloe’s eyes stare ahead of her, smiling as her fingers card through the man’s dark hair, soothing him and her. She pulls back, taking his strong jawline in her hands. Juyeon’s eyes are wet, still dripping with tears, but he looks at Chloe with unwavering love and devotion. She smiles at him like nothing is awry, leaning down to press her forehead to his.

“I love you, Juju. So good to me,” Chloe whispers, nuzzling her nose against him, watching as his eyes shut in bliss while a tear rolls down his cheek. Chloe thinks he’s had enough for one night, earning what he’s probably been dreaming about for years. She dips her head down, pressing her lips to his gently for a moment before pressing deeper, hearing a moan leave his throat and vibrate against her lips as she does so. The kiss is warm and still, Juyeon barely moving an inch as Chloe presses her chest against his for a second then pulls back, a small smacking sound filling the room.

Juyeon looks up at Chloe with hazy eyes, blinking up at her like she’s some kind of magical being that shouldn’t be visible to the human eye. He reaches up, holding her cheek in his hand with the arm that now has her name engrained forever. Her breathing catches, looking down at Juyeon with wide eyes. She expects violence, prepping for a strike that never comes. Instead, his thumb runs over her cheekbone and then drags down to run across her plump bottom lip. Juyeon could overpower her if he wanted to. Most people could. Chloe is small and frail, her hands bony and real nails brittle. It’s always been hard for her to put on weight, but that’s not a real issue in the industry in which she works. Juyeon isn’t violent, though. There’s not even anger in his gaze, only love.

“Anything for my Chloe,” Juyeon whispers like an oath. Chloe hated admitting it, but her heart skipped a beat at that, her hands delicately resting on his bicep. Her eyes fall down to the bloodied mess on the inside of Juyeon’s arm, rubbing her lips together at the messy sight before looking back at his face. She doesn’t say anything, only leans in and kisses his lips again. He tilts his head up to return the kiss, initiating a deepening, but Chloe pulls back before either of them can.

“Need to bandage you up,” Chloe hums, kissing his cheek as a parting gift as she moves off the bed to get the first aid kid from the same desk she got the boxcutter from. Even now, there’s a smile on her face.

#╰ * VENUS : scenarios ⧽ burn it to the ground .#fictional idol group #fictional idol community #kpop fanfic #idol oc #kpop oc #fake kpop oc #kpop au #idol au #kpop addition #idolverse #oc girl group #bts addition #fake kpop girl group #fake kpop idol #oc kpop group #stray kids addition

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