#i have another one in mind with the drowning scene but i cant find a proper gif

[fromevertonow]

Art by jmlascar - gif by @loveisalwayswise

[thatsdemko]

the art of attraction (it’s always been you) - p.gasly

masterlist

pairings: Pierre gasly x leclerc!fem!reader

warnings: fluff + some inaccuracies of Pierre and Charles careers + some angst

note: when I do “—“ to break the scene the next scene in this instance is rather not the next day or later that evening(unless specified).

summary: the story of how Pierre and y/n leclerc fall in love.

a/n: just something to lighten the mood❤️

AGE 5 & 7

maybe that’s when you knew.

when he covered your ears while your parents swore at each other, their voices rising with anger and he slipped into your bedroom to distract you and Arthur from the argument downstairs.

you could smell is freshly shampooed hair from behind you, you could hear his heart beating against his chest as he shushed any worries down your throat.

the concerns wash away as you sink against his chest, the words finally died down and his hands come off from over your ears, “Qu'est-ce que tu as entendu?” he asks in concern that you didn’t pick up any new vocabulary that you shouldn’t of heard. pierre was used to it by now with karting, but you were three years younger than him, and you definitely shouldn’t of heard what you did. what did you hear

“nothing.” you lie knowing that’ll satisfy him. he moves from behind you so you can look him in his eyes. his beautiful ocean blue eyes that you could drown yourself in.

“you pinky promise you didn’t hear?”

“I pinky promise.”

when your pinky’s interlace you could feel the electric waves, you could feel your heart pace increase, eyes growing with hopefulness that maybe he feels it too.

“come on, cherie let’s go find Charles.”

and just like that, your hope was gone. but it started a fire inside your chest and butterflies to form. nothing about Pierre gasly would ever be the same to you.

AGE 7 & 9

the most important day of the year for you was always overlooked; your birthday. it end up typically being on a Sunday or a race weekend, which meant the whole family’s focus was on Charles or Arthur and never on you.

you’d pout and fuss about no presents, birthday cakes, or well wishes from family members. but there was one person who was determined to make your birthday matter. Pierre.

“there she is!” his mother, also named pascale, beams with excitement seeing you in the stands to cheer on your big brother, Charles, and of course her son, Pierre.

“just a little gift for the birthday girl, it’s from all of us.” she presses a soft kiss to your cheek handing you the tiny pink bag with tissue paper falling out of the top. you thank her for her generosity and wait to open the gift until after the race. it was common curtesy, but you knew your own mother wouldn’t be pleased for you to spoil the joy for Charles.

it was yet another birthday spent in an hour of boredom and wishing for something better.

this was the time your mind would race of imagination. the world of delusion was limitless, and most of the time you wished of Pierre. you wished for Pierre to be the one to hand you the birthday gift instead of his mother, or wishing for Pierre to kiss you after his race. your mind never seemed to leave the Frenchman out of your fantasies.

—

“p1! congratulations.” you’re lost in the sea of family members and friends, but he finds you first. you cant help but wonder if you stuck out like a sore thumb or just someone he so desperately wanted to see after his win.

“happy birthday.” he engulfs you in a tight hug, you can smell the sweat and lingering scent of his shampoo that takes you back to two years ago when he held you against him.

you close your eyes and enjoy the moment before it’s taken from you. he’s ripped off of your body by Charles, who’s now congratulating him. a frown forms to your lips as you look down at the pink paper bag that was crumpled against his body. somehow it hurts that the only thing you wanted was something you couldn’t have. it couldn’t be wrapped a tiny bag.

but his hug was better than the silver pendant necklace that you knew he and his mother picked out.

it was the one you eyed summers ago at the antique store in southern France. he watched your big eyes shine under the jewelry’s beauty, and you knew it was Pierre who forced his mother to go back.

maybe it wasn’t such a bad birthday after all.

AGE 10 & 12

“you don’t want to swim?”

his brown wet hair drips over his eyes, he takes his hand and pushes the locks back so he can see you straight. you’re in your tankini(a horrible fashion choice as you look back on it) sitting in the lounge chair pretending to be interested in the gossip magazine in front of you.

“not up for it.” you shrug your shoulders and look back at the gossip of brad Pitt and Angelina, two people you could care less about. because right now, you’re chewing the inside of your cheek watching a new girl swim laps with your brothers and Pierre.

she was a girl from school. of course she was, and she had long blonde hair and was wearing bikinis because her chest has developed. you hoped she couldn’t see you glaring at her from underneath your sunglasses as she plays basketball with the boys in the pool. you were trying very hard to be different in hopes that maybe Pierre would notice you and forget about the blonde girl. of course your attempts failed when it was Arthur who swam up to you.

“what? you always want to swim.” Pierre’s shocked, it took your parents hours to get you out of the pool you loved it so much. he was wondering what had changed since last summer.

“she’s in some weird phase leave her alone.” Lorenzo grumbles at your attitude. the boys go back to playing the pool while you attempt to wrinkle under the sun, except every time she laughed you had to make sure it wasn’t at something he said.

this was the part that hurt while being in love, is trying to be okay with them finding someone else.

AGE 13 & 15

it’d been months since he’d last seen you. karting was taking him to new places that he hadn’t been home in forever. he was beginning to forget the smell of the salty oceans, the sound of the seagulls in the morning, and you. all this time away from home, he found himself itching for you.

when he heard the sound of the car door slamming and the mixed chatter coming from the front door, he could feel the sense of belonging again. all that time away, it changed him, and he wondered if it had changed you.

the front door clicks open and Pierre looks away from the television. he watches your family members pile in one by one, he sits in an anticipation that’ll you show, and when you do it doesn’t disappoint him.

your hairs a bit shorter from the last time, your legs are tanner, and you’re wearing mascara, but nothing about you changed. the smile when he made a joke, the shyness you got around him, it all was the same.

it’s his turn to feel the butterflies when he looks at you. and this time when he looks at you, and when your eyes connect you actually feel it radiating off of him.

he was in love.

—

“mind if I join you?” he steps up into the attic. it was a place you five used to play in when you were kids. it wasn’t safe, as there were many holes in the flooring, but it became your quiet place when you needed time alone.

you look over your shoulder to see he has a peace offering, a tiny glass of limoncello that he stole from downstairs.

a smile is brought to your lips as you motion for him to come closer, “you didn’t have to steal to come here.” you chuckle taking the plastic cup from him while he situates himself beside you.

“well you could’ve turned me down. I needed a plan to make you want me to stay.” he nudges his shoulder into yours and watches you swallow the liquor with a bitter face.

he laughs and it’s like music to your ears. you can feel the little hairs in your ears stand up, the chill run down your spine, and the familiar swarm of butterflies in your stomach. it was too easy for him to make you feel this way.

“awful?”

“horrible actually.” you choke out setting the cup on the ledge. you swore you could’ve thrown up then, but everything in you stops when you feel his knuckles against your chest.

“you still wear this?” he holds the the necklace charm against his palm, a soft smile forming against his lips. all you can do is nod. he took the words right out of you as his blue eyes flicker upwards towards you.

“I think I have a birthday gift that might top this one.” he lets go of the charm and finally you can breathe again. you feel your muscles relax as you touch the charm that was once in his hand.

“what do you have in mind?”

“close your eyes and I’ll show you.”

you’d never obeyed faster. your eye’s immediately shut. you could feel the world around you spinning with anticipation as you wait for his whatever it is.

you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body, he must’ve moved closer. his palm rests against your cheek and before you know it his lips are pressed against yours. the kiss is soft and gentle, but his lips fit like a glove. you can feel the sparks, they warm your bodies up as you move closer to him with the exact same energy kissing him back.

“hold on,” Pierre whispers, pulling away. he watches your eyes flutter open in utter confusion, “that was really good.” he whispers, chest visibly rising and falling as you just took the air right out of him.

“but?”

“we’re just kids, y/n. maybe some other time, I just don’t think we should date yet.”

AGE 15 & 17

your first everything was Pierre. at fifteen there wasn’t much you needed to experience besides a crush and kiss, but lately you had noticed high school moved at a much different pace.

half the girls you were friends with had already had sex, boyfriends, or multiple kisses, but you still clung onto that one evening when Pierre not only kissed you but then ripped a bandaid right off your wound. that night still hurt.

and while you were encouraged to move on and find other boys, nobody compared to the beautiful Frenchman.

you’d experimented with other boys, which meant fooling around making out and an occasional nude photos, but your mind never stopped going back to Pierre. no matter how much he had hurt you that night, you still wanted to experience something more than a kiss with him.

it was one sided though, as Pierre had began dating a girl a year older than you and she’d shown up to many of his races. you’d thought you’d have moved on, but that was until it was the first birthday where Pierre had no gift for you. that was when you realized you still really cared about him.

“just move on from him.” your dear friend whispered into your ear as you watch the two walk hand in hand to the track. you could’ve sworn you were about to be sick to your stomach.

“I can’t.” you whisper back pulling your knees into your chest, you watch her pepper his face with kisses, “I need to leave.” you stand up from your spot in the stands and climb down the steps, you brush past the two and for the first time you don’t even look over your shoulder to see if he’s watching, but he is.

—

“you don’t wear my necklace anymore?”

your neck looks bare under the dim lighting of the attic. he wonders when the last time you wore it was, because he hadn’t noticed the last time that it was gone.

“why do you care?” you snap taking a sip of beer from your red solo cup, the contents make the sour look against your face contort, and it makes him laugh. that damn laugh. you could curse him for finding this moment funny, because all thoughts you had cleared of him come running back.

“because you loved that necklace.”

“have you thought about that maybe the guy who gave it to me was an asshole?” you raise your eyebrow and watch the little smile across his lips vanish. he knows exactly what you’re referring to. the night when you were thirteen, he shot you down. he could never forget the look on your face and how you cried into Lorenzo’s arms. the look on the elder leclerc’s face was enough to scare him off.

“I was an asshole, but I’m your asshole.”

the words started that fire you sure was burnt. you could feel the flames ignite in your stomach as you push yourself closer to his body, you can thank the alcohol for that.

“in order for you to be mine, you have to ask me.” you rest your hand against his chest, you can feel the beat of his heart quicken under your palm.

his hand finds your hip, he licks his lips, “I don’t think I need to ask when I know the answer.”

“just ask me, asshole.” you grit through your teeth, he throws his head back laughing and says something in French that you can’t make out.

“y/n leclerc, will you be my girlfriend?”

“yes.”

AGE 17 & 19

the pendant necklace, a beautiful silver promise ring, and silver dangly earrings are the gifts you couldn’t take off even if you wanted to.

he’d made up for the lost time of traveling in Monaco for karting and his transitions into f3. Charles had tagged along, the two still conjoined at the hip despite the new relationship that had unfolded between families.

“you like them?” he asks watching you fiddle with the silver hoops he’d picked out with his first sponsor paycheck. he promises once he can afford it, Tiffany diamonds is all you’ll ever know.

“like them?” you turn to face him from your vanity, “my Pierre,” you get up from the chair and press a kiss to his lips, “I love them.”

he chuckles against your lips, you can feel the vibration run down your body, “good.”

your friends had told you his gift giving was excessive, but you couldn’t have been happier. he made time for you, now with an income he could fly from France to Monaco to visit you for holidays and birthdays, but it did mean he spent a lot more time in the cars than he did with you.

“will you be at the track tonight? I can’t race without you.” his fingers brush your hair back behind your ear, he pulls you into his lap, “I need my good luck charm.” he presses a kiss against your lips.

it’s your turn to giggle against his lips, “you’re awfully needy today.” you say wrapping your arms around his neck, “but I wouldn’t miss a race, p. I’ll be there for you.”

“what about me?! I exist too you know!”

“shut up, Charles!”

AGE 18 & 20

he missed it.

you couldn’t believe it. he missed your birthday for the first time since dating.

you waited by your phone for hours that day. it was one of your very first birthdays where it wasn’t surrounded by karting and formula 1, it was a birthday that everyone was free as a bird and he missed it.

“I’m sorry, Cherie.” Charles peers into your bedroom, a visible frown against his lips, “I really thought he’d call.”

“it’s fine, cha.” you brush him off, but he knows better. he sees the sadness in your eyes that he didn’t call.

“it’s not fine, y/n. he’s your boyfriend now, he’s supposed to remember stuff like this.” Charles comes into your bedroom, he takes a seat at the end of your bed, “next race, I’m going to push him off the track.”

“don’t jeopardize your race for his mistakes, Charles. just play fair.”

“well he’s going to get something don’t you worry.”

AGE 19 & 21

he barely called anymore. life was shaping him into becoming a formula 1 driver and he just never gave you the time anymore.

you’d moved out of your parents house and into a small studio apartment in Monaco that overlooked the hairpin of the infamous Monaco circuit. you’d be able to see his car one day drive that turn and maybe bring home a victory. but right now, Red Bull was taking your love away from you.

the phone on your nightstand finally rings. it’s a miracle that after all that praying he calls. it’d been over two weeks since you’d heard his beautiful voice.

“bonjour,” you say almost instantly when you pick up the call. you can hear the chatter in the background, it must’ve been a mistake, a butt dial perhaps. but you stay on the call in case.

“y/n, you there?”

“yeah I’m here.” you say turning away from your homework that desperately needed your attention, but the man on the phone sounded unfamiliar to you. you knew it was him, but something had changed.

“hey, I’m sorry I have to cancel dinner plans.” he says, the chatter is still on going. was he really doing this now? in front of his team?

“that’s fine.” you exhale a deep long sigh that might’ve been over dramatic, but you were annoyed. it was another dinner you had planned that you would be eating alone.

“what’s wrong?” he shush’s whoever was talking so he can hear you better.

“nothing, Pierre, it’s just I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”

“I’m sorry, you know that right? it’s just training and simulators, I need to focus.”

you sigh. this really is it, huh? becoming best friends with his voicemail box and eating shitty dinners alone. you couldn’t do it any longer. you couldn’t believe this would be the thing that would tear you apart. you could’ve sworn once you were together, there would be no stopping your love. but it turns out formula 1 had its own plan in the making of your relationship.

“well let me help you focus even more, because we’re done.”

AGE 21 & 23

he was driving the cars he’s always dreamed of doing so. he finally was in formula 1. this day couldn’t be better, but maybe it could. after seeing you arrive with Charles for his start at Alfa Romeo, the pang of regret and guilt stings his chest.

he’s reminded of the days and nights he didn’t call, the anniversaries he missed, the celebrations he should’ve been at, but the days he missed were the reason he got the seat in the first place. it came with a hefty emotional price.

but seeing you in the paddock surrounded by his family, and your family, he couldn’t believe what a fuck up he was. it shouldn’t be like this, and he knows it.

“good luck out there, sweetheart.” your mother wraps him in a tight hug, it looks like he’s held hostage, but you believe he deserves it. he put you through an emotional rollercoaster that you’re happy to be off of, but a girl never stops loving her first crush.

because while you should be angry at him, your heart still goes putty over him. your heart still beats to his rhythm despite the torture he put you through. you couldn’t calm yourself down when you looked over at him, his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, his jawline covered in stubby hairs. he looked much better than you did.

he gets podium. his first formula 1 podium and the radio conversation is still buzzing in your ears. he took the time to thank not only his family, but you. it had to have been you, he called you his good luck charm, and you knew it was you by the way his mothers eyes beamed under the sunlight.

you attempt to look anywhere that’s not him. your eyes try to concentrate on Lewis Hamilton and his beautiful tattooed hands as they grasp the lip of the bottle, and just as your eyes were finally settled on him, you felt the spritz of champagne against your skin.

your eyes find the man who’s leaning over the edge with a bottle of champagne pointed towards the crowd. his blue eyes search the sea of fans and team members until he finds you, your body is squished against the barricade front and center.

even if you wanted to hide from him and become just another fan lost in the crowd, you couldn’t. your heart always pulled you towards him even if it broke every vessel in your body.

he moves down the podium steps, you could feel your heart against your chest. he had the capability of doing this, after not speaking for nearly years he had the ability to start a fire in you with just a blink of an eye.

you watch it happen in slow motion. he moves across the barricade allowing fans and other team members pat his shoulder and chest with encouraging words to boost his ego. the smile on his face is irreplaceable, his cheeks are red from the sweat, tears, and discomfort of his own grin, but he can’t pull it off. he’s inches away from you, allowing his mother to hug him and kiss his champagne flavored cheek, he allows Charles to pat him on the back, and finally it was your turn.

you can feel the bodies against your back pushing you into the metal trying to get as close as they could to him. their hands touch his chest, shoulder, or anything they could grab onto as he leans in and smashes his lips against yours.

your fingers pull his face closer to you, as you kiss him with all of your might like the world was going to end if you didn’t. the cheering and whistling becomes background noise as he pulls away from your lips, resting his forehead against yours, “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you so much more, Pierre.”

—

“for you, I’m going to try and make this right.” he whispers, the words stuck against your sweaty skin, kisses peppered against your shoulders, “you’re my endgame. I believe it.”

heat spreads across your face as you attempt to burry your head into his chest, “I want to be your endgame.” you say curling into his body, your ear is pressed against his chest, you can hear his heart pounding against its cavity.

closing your eyes and then opening them, you try to make sure that this is real. the boy you once dreamed of having was fast asleep underneath you, small snores escape his lips, you can’t believe he’s yours again. lost, found, lost again, and then found once more.

this was a love only ever written in novels.

AGE 25 & 27 (NOW)

“I thought I’d find you up here.” he says reaching the final step into the attic. he’s tall enough now that his head nearly hits the roof, he has to crouch to make his way over to where you sit looking out the window of the house.

“where else would I be?” you turn to him, a chuckle escaping your lips as his head bumps right into the roof before he sits down across from you.

“everyone’s waiting for us.” he takes your hand in his, thumb caressing your knuckles. you look up into his eyes, he looks handsome today. in fact, he looks handsome every day but he looks even better in his tuxedo with a crooked flower pinned to the jacket.

“they can wait a little longer.” you carefully move onto his thigh leaning your back into his chest, “I just want to be with you. alone.”

he hums in response, and just wraps his arms around yours. you rest your head back against his shoulder and suddenly it’s like your five again. the smell of his shampoo is a little faint from the cologne, but when you inhale once again there it is.

“you ready, mrs.gasly?”

“I’m ready, mr.gasly. take me home.”

I'll follow you into the park

Through the jungle, through the dark

Girl, I never loved one like you

That's true, laugh until we think we'll die

Barefoot on a summer night

Never could be sweeter than with you

And in the streets you run a-free

Like it's only you and me

Geez, you're something to see

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog

[goatpaste]

Does valentine also changes in your au like scarlet? Does he do the same bad actions to Lucy like in canon or does hot pants fight him and save Lucy similar to when she prevented scarlet from doing things to Lucy like in your au?

so ye no, iv gutted that part out as well. FV is just evil as a campy ass nationalistic president. He was fine with being over the top cartoon American president evil he didnt need the layer of being a rapist and pedophile to lucy

I think most of that initial Tublar Bell shit goes about the same, Lucy sneaking into FV room to find the corpse part, disguising herself as Scarlet, putting FV to sleep, and then getting caught by Tubular Bells.

And while iv removed Scarlet being a creep to Lucy, I still like the idea of her being a crazy ride or die motherfucker for her powerful president husband. So between Scarlet realizing whats going on and Tubular Bell attack, Hot Pants jumps to the rescue for Lucy

But at the end of the fight, when its time to run and HP is faced with the choice to get Lucy out of there, or leave the corpse parts behind. Its the first good choice Hot Pants has made in a very long time, the first unselfish choice. She Saves Lucy and leave the corpse parts behind taking only her spine part (and unknowing to either Lucy or Hot Pants, the heart of the corpse that she got when Mountain Tim died)

From here on out, Lucy is traveling with Hot Pants and Diego. In my mind the rewrite leads to them falling into enemies different (and as well as me inserting another stand user or two of my own hehe)

One of the Bigger changes for them, is that it is Diego, Hot Pants and Lucy who run into Civil War fight instead of Johnny and Gyro. as well as editing the stand from just things you've through away but regrets and fears your holding on to.

Iv envisioned this scene where Lucy has either been told to wait outside or been set into a 'safe spot' by hot pants as their trying to track down a stand user. Diego and HP have both split up to search the building, until Hot pants feels a weird sensation, its getting harder to breath. She falls to the ground gasping for air, and looks to relize whats happening. her brother is attached to her, her greatest regret the source of her guilt is hanging onto her. Looking into the broken mirror shards still stood loosely in its frame in front of her, she swears her reflection is that of the bear who ate her brother looking back at her.

She needs to find Diego, this stand attack is taking the things you've thrown away, the things that weigh you down and make you scared. And if theres anyone who never feels remorse for anything he's done, it would be Diego Brando.

However she crawls to find him in a back room on the floor shaking and blubbering, he looks wet like he's been drowning and she's tightly gripped in his hands is an old dirty blue dress of a woman. Diego is crying for his mother and cannot move.

They think to call Lucy for help with her Stand Tiny Butterfly, but she's too far from them to make it. They cant keep running to this kid, they have to face this themselves.

[jams-sims]

Chatterbox and pretty much all of the clowns rp has been so peak as of late. You know it bad when you have your tv working as a second screen to watch another person point of view. Nakkida has become one of my favorites, her music work makes every scene so intense. Wayne finally pulling himself together and become the youngest child to Tessa.

Chatterbox and Kirk give off mad eldest son vibes. Twinkles refuses to be part of the family so he is designated childhood bestfriend.

As a Chattercups girly, it does feel like we've reached a point where it doesnt really matter if Ray comes back or not. Chatty and Jagger his alt self seems committed to the idea of burning the funhouse down. The spiral may have started with her but it has now become something else. We have like mega plot points like Sooty dead husband, which was just a helpful way of killing a character who was already dead fully off to free the Mun. In short Dick was pretty much never coming back and this just helped the rp, like putting gasoline on a fire. Plus Clowns were never a family, i can write a whole essay on it. They were more like a compound of people stuck together through mutual truama. You cant call yourself a family when the leader hates your guts and doesnt mind if you get killed. But draws the line infavor of others. Your just a group with a bunch of smaller groups with a hierarchy issue.

Idk if I want to believe Cups/Rae are done done rp wise. I think they had a solid plan before the drama happened, which would leave a bad taste in anyone mouth. Then they said "oh once a big update drop she'll be back." But lets be honest I dont think CG is coming back (that just a gut feeling i would be happy to be wrong). An irl Rae is too busy making her own company, staring in movies to crave out time for rp. Especially if she's not vibing with it, plus its unfair to leave other characters in limbo just because of ONE person. So i can see why we're pushing forward as fast and as hard as we are going.

I would love some type of resolution to the ship tho. Besides it becoming," Cups comes back nothing is the same" and we call off the wedding and everything just to end it. Idk maybe its copium, but because the rp is so intense, it feels like she could drop in anytime and it would just explode so much shit. An I think thats what sucks the most because it is prime rp moments, like it is rainning diamonds thats how good it is. An I dont want it to be missed if Rae not gonna do the rp anymore. Just give me an ending that does not just end in "chatterbox gets his mask back" or "chatterbox in his jagger state kills cups."

No I need Ray to come back and knock jagger out and take him out to the beach and drown him repeatedly until Chatty brain becomes a scrambled mess and all his different personsilty mix together like soup. He doesnt get the mask back, I can take or leave the wedding. But I would find it funny if Ray had to tie up this new chatterbox to marry him and then kill him' i just think Ray personailty could scare Chatty back to "normal"

Honestly I got into gta nopixel because of Chattetcups, like legit it took a singke tiktok and I was in. I just want a satisfying ending.

[juni-ravenhall]

Ooh, what kind of horse can Juni's brother turn into? (If you don't mind my asking.)

He intrigues me so...

at the moment im not sure if he turns into one specific horse or if its a more chaotic type of shapeshifting. but it relates to how pandoria = based on the ocean, + my own feelings as someone who both feels drowned and underwater with no way to get onto land and sunshine (the place where others live) in a negative sense (shit life suicidal etc), a dark endless abyss and a different world, but also that i love being in water and feel more comfortable and at peace when im swimming in a lake than i do on land. which i also relate into the feeling that pandoria feels comfortable and at home for him even tho it was killing him, its the only thing he knows - which relates to carrying your trauma and mental illness / ND stuff with you even if things get better (like getting out of pandoria), and, in my case, not being able to relate to normies and not being able to handle being around them, bc their perspectives and lived experiences are so alien to me that i just really cant talk to them.

all that to say, i relate him in some ways to the creatures like bäckahästen / kelpie, even tho hes not intentionally trying to drag anyone into the water. so part of the image is a water-horse.

i think also, that soul horses (in my mind) relate to the rider as their other half in some way, which in juni's horse winterborn's case is an irresponsible horse who just wants to chill and eat - someone who represents juni not overworking herself and enjoying the moment. but for juni's brother, there isnt rly an easy way to give him a chara like this. juni already represents the "version of him" that is mentally healthy and loved and cared for due to having a happy life full of love and support and stability. i think that it might make sense that he *is* his own soul horse, bc he only ever had himself, nobody else to rely on, and that the strength to push through and survive comes from within himself, in lack of any outside help.

this is how i feel in my life since i dont get concrete help from others. everything has to come from inside myself, even healthcare, even diagnosing ppl around me so they can stop abusing me, i had to become a psychologist and doc and dietist and therapist all on my own to save myself, i had to be my own parent, my own teacher. (i'm still not saved ofc. but i survived this far. every day is a struggle.) so i think that his soul horse being himself makes sense in that way, and that maybe, with time, if he was able to start healing and get out of the abyss at the bottom of the ocean, if he was able to start actually living as a person with more of his actual personality shining through and not just a cloud of trauma and horror and emptiness, he might be able to find another half eventually, outside himself. but this isnt relevant yet.

i also have a scene in mind where a strange horse appears on the race track when @yasminewestbank yasmine is racing, and it feels like a strange, dreamlike sequence where this horse is going impossibly fast, but in yasmine's eyes he can see it changing shapes (yasmine being a character who is somewhat between jorvik and pandoria, a connection to both sides). this is loosely based on my childhood memory from a scene in the valhalla series where they compete against strange rivals, but i doubt anyone that reads this will have a clue what im talking about XD

[teenyweenynightghost]

A/n: ALRIGHTY. SO i would like to mention i have not yet written the fic, this is before the mv i just wanted to save time for later. I have no idea whats about to come. I CANT FUCKING WAIT

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @victoriadeangeliswifey @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @electra-phoebe @makeavvish @perfectlyunbiasedobservation @cucciolafaerie @theimpossiblehologramtree @unitersmoonshine @deeavjbes @selenophiliaxx @oro-e-diamanti

The aftermath

Ethan

Y/n watched, shock written all over her face as Ethan’s scene came on. Grabbing Damiano’s neck and pushing him into the water, drowning him. And god, the wink.

The rest of the video rolled by, nothing in her head other than him. Ethan.

And god, he had the afterparty…

Desperate eyes searched around, trying to find a source of relief. The pillow. No thoughts crossed her mind than a pure instinct to fuck.

Y/n threw off all her clothes, roughly pulling at them, until she was completely naked. She grabbed the pillow and got on top of it, beginning to massage her boobs.

God how thankful she was to Vic right now, who convinced her to get a nipple piercing. Tugging at it roughly, she scrunched her eyebrows in pain, as a familiar feeling enveloped her body, and a certain heat spread to her core.

“The things you do to me, Torchio.” She moaned, slowly grinding on the pillow.

Her pace got faster as her body became redder, breath ragged, waves of pleasure washing over here one after another.

The image came back. Blue lighting, his tight bodysuit, the satisfied glint in his eyes as he choked Damiano…

God she was doomed. He told her to wait for him to come back, to give her the night she deserved for having been so patient…

“Well, well, well…”

His deep voice shocked her, sending shivers throughout her body. There was no playing it off. Naked, sweaty and grinding on a soaked pillow? Pretty obvious what she was doing.

“Ethan, please…” She all but begged, feeling as if she could only cum if his hands were on her.

“What is it, you slut, can’t finish?” He asked, sounding satisfied.

A large, warm hand soon enveloped her neck. He only held her for now, making sure she knew how easily he could switch the tables.

“What did I fucking tell you?” His voice was now low, and grave. It’s intended purpose was to scare Y/n, but it only made her wetter.

She bounced against his grip, desperate to finish before he could start teasing her. “You’re not gonna stop? Alright, puppy.” He chuckled. Only now, was Y/n scared.

His grip suddenly tightened on her throat, cutting off her air and making her yelp. He pulled her back slowly, away from the pillow, away from release.

“The only thing making you see stars will be my hands on your ass, my darling little whore. You won’t be cumming for weeks.”

Vic

They weren’t together! Of course not! And that girl was just an actress. Y/n had no reason to be jealous.

Except literal steam was coming out of her ears.

“Oh come on, Y/n, this is her night, can’t you just be supportive?” She whined to herself, hating the vile emotions taking over her.

What calmed her down? Chili, yes, she had to get to Chili. Y/n all but ran down the stairs to cuddle the little ball of fluff she adored so much… but oh who was there.

The blonde spun around, holding the puppy in her arms.

“Oh we did it Chili! Yes we did baby yeaaa” She exclaimed, joy buzzing though her.

“And look! Mommy is there too! Let’s go give her kisses!”

Victoria let Chili down, who instantly ran outside, and hurried over to Y/n.

“Babe! It’s up! What did you think- Y/n?” Her face dropped as she saw the smile Y/n was trying to fake.

“Yeah, I’m right here. How were the others feeling?”

“Don’t switch the topic. What’s wrong?”

Y/n examined Vic’s face as she said it. There was no denying she knew exactly what was bothering her.

“I think you know.” Y/n replied, confirming Vic’s thoughts.

“Oh amore…” She stood in the hallway, watching as Y/n walked away. And that second…a thought came to mind.

***

“Yes?” Y/n answered the soft nock on her door. Or their door. She didn’t even know what they were at this point.

“Puppy, will you come out please?”

Of course, it was Vic. What was she gonna do? Dress up in a onesie and have a movie night? Bake cookies?
Y/n shook her head, preparing herself for what was to come. It was the end, she could feel it in her bones.

“Yes?” She asked again, this time opening the door.

There was no one there. Repetitive, quick footsteps reached her ears, and she soon recognized them as Chili’s.

“Oh god, what did she do to you?” Y/n chuckled, as she saw the rose tied to Chili’s collar.

Nevertheless, she grabbed the flower, gave it a quick sniff and turned around to go back inside, but was interrupted by continuous barking.

“What?”

The dog refused to let her go back, and instead guided her downstairs. Well, it was official. Y/n was following a dog.

“If this is one of your mother’s plan-“

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the view in front her. Dark red petals were carefully laid in two parallel lines, surrounding the couch. Lit candles appeared here and there and with the lights dimly lit, it was the perfect atmosphere.

What truly stunned her, was Victoria. A black latex set hugged her body in sinful ways. A short skirt, barely going past half of her ass was the only thing keeping her decency. A white garter surrounded her torso, leading up to her neck, where a long leash was clipped.

Her hair was wavy, cascading down her bare shoulders, make up still on and a lustful smirk on her face.

“I think there must have been a misunderstanding earlier.” Her husky voice sent shivers throughout Y/n, despite being so far away.

“And is sex supposed to solve it?”

Vic chuckled, and eyed Y/n up and down. They both knew what was about to come wasn’t just sex.

“Well, I was going to say you do have quite an array of choices this time. Wax, your favorite toys, ropes, chocolate syrup” she popped the last p, bringing Y/n’s attention to her painted lips. “Oh and, you also have control.”

Y/n let out a shaky breath, her pupils dilating and legs shaking as Vic looked down at the leash, tugging it playfully.

“Claim me, amore.”

Thomas

“Oh Y/n! And it was so cool! Honestly, what’s better than colored lights and smashing a guitar on Damiano’s head?” He laughed, walking into the room.

“This.”

Y/n closed the lights, a red line illuminating the frame of the bed and the edges of each wall. Pulling on the belt keeping her coat together, she let it all fall as Thomas turned around.

His mouth fell wide open, seeing Y/n. The only thing covering her body were a few strings filled with diamonds cascading down her body like the crystal clear water on a mountain trail.

“You’ve been such a good boy, Thommy. So nice, so excited… but I fear you’re getting pretty confident in the whole bad boy thing. Let’s give you a little lesson, hm?” She whispered, walking closer to Thomas, an infinite slow step by another.

His mouth still hung open, eyes wide as a doe’s, as he took in Y/n’s form.

“What?” He asked, snapping back to reality.

Y/n frowned, breathing loudly out her nose, and softly grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pulling him up against her stomach.

“The polite way to address me when you aren’t paying attention, is -excuse me, mommy?-. You understand that, right?”

“Yes, sorry.” He stuttered, adoration and lust still filling his eyes.

“Such a good boy for me. Go ahead and take your clothes off sweetheart.”

Thomas nodded quickly and began doing what she asked of him. He unbuttoned his shirt as swiftly as he could, followed by his pants and underwear, all while maintaining eye contact with Y/n.

“Good job. Now sit down on the bed. I want your hands on your knees, looking right at me. You won’t be moving, talking or making any sound unless I tell you to. I won’t have to tie you down, will I?”

“No, mommy.” He was quick to answer, doing as she asked once more and fixating his gaze on her.

Y/n hummed in response as she took a seat in front of him. She leaned back, resting against the wall and closed her eyes. A hand traveled down all the diamonds decorating her body, landing on one of her boobs. She began massaging it slowly, softly, letting out sweet, sweet gasps which quickly informed Thomas of what she would do to him.

Y/n opened her eyes and met his hungry, desperate gaze. Oh how she loved seeing him like this. Another hand came up, replicating her movements on her other boob.

Soon, she was a mess of moans, rolling her head back in sync with each squeeze. Patience ran out of her, so she began trailing a hand down her body. Her middle finger was on her clit, rubbing small circles around it, as the other kept playing with her nipple.

“Oh, bunny, you don’t even know how good this feels-“ She moaned, inserting a finger and starting to pump it inside of her.

Opening her eyes temporarily, she saw how hard Thomas was.

“Oh baby, you look pathetic.” Another moan, and Thomas’s dick twitched, aching with need.

She added another finger and began increasing the pace, trembling and squirming, pleasure enveloping her body. Her moans and yelps got louder and more frequent, until she finally came with a loud ‘fuck’.

As she trembled and gasped for breath, she heard Thomas whine, and what she could tell was a tear on his face.

Once calm, she copied Thomas’s position, her eyelids half closed from the arousal.

“Oh bunny, no need to cry.” She cooed him, grinning at how easily she could rile him up.

“You’ve been a good boy. Mommy’s right here. Come to me.” She said, opening her legs, and giving a Thomas a signal.

She would make sure her little puppy would be rewarded for the video.

Damiano

Y/n laughed as she saw the last scene. Damiano getting in a car and driving off with an ill feeling about the song. Well, considering how many times he was killed in that video, she wasn’t surprised.

Looking up from the screen, she saw her boyfriend, frowning at her, arms crossed and a poorly contained smile.

“No fair. I got killed three times. I even got drowned in piss!” He exclaimed, offended, seeking Y/n’s pity.

“Oh amore, aren’t you cute. Come here.” She gestured towards him, opening her arms which were soon filled by his warm body.

He plopped on Y/n’s body, nuzzling his head into her neck and breathing in her sweet scent.

“What can I do so you won’t be this bummed out?” She cooed, playing with his hair and rubbing circles on his back.

Damiano closed his eyes, sighing at the feeling of contact and, well, the answers he could give to Y/n’s question. A weird wave of shyness washed over him, however, and he suddenly found himself burning, cheeks as red as his blood in the video. He had way to many thoughts.

Y/n’s cold hand was pressed below his chin, pulling his face towards her, as she smirked at his evident blush.

“Aw, Dami, embarrassed all of a sudden? Come on. If you sit up on my lap and look me in the eyes while telling me what you want to do tonight, I won’t tease you at all.”

Oo. A deal. And, considering how many times Damiano cried for Y/n to let him cum, it was a deal he wanted to take.

He nodded softly as he stood up, resting comfortably on Y/n’s hips.

“I really missed you, baby.” He spoke, even more nervous than when he was cuddle up against Y/n.

She smiled lovingly at him, squeezing his thighs reassuringly.

“I want to see you in that underwear you wore on my birthday. I want to- I want to kiss you everywhere before taking it off.”

Why was he so red and why was his voice so shaky? He was so good at dirty talking… what happened now?

Damiano gulped loudly, trying to avert his gaze before remembering Y/n’s deal.

“Maybe this will help relax you a bit?” Y/n asked, pressing her hand against Damiano’s grown.

His head rolled back, inhaling sharply before regaining his composure. Oh that definitely helped.

“After that, I want to take it off with my teeth. I want to put an ice cube in my mouth and trail it down your body until I get to your pussy. I want to press it against your clit and push it inside of you. I want to hear you scream my name tonight, amore.” He continued, grinding into Y/n’s palm, which was wrapped softly around his dick.

“How else. Go ahead. Tell me everything.”

“I want to tie you to the bed and and eat you out until you’ll see stars. I want to grind into you and feel my dick bulging against your stomach. Tomorrow morning, everyone will know who’s you are. If the screams wouldn’t have clarified it, the hickeys will.

Y/n chuckled, feeling herself get wet at the thought of what they were gonna do. Deciding she had enough of embarrassing Damiano, she pushed him off, earning a dissatisfied yelp, and began walking up the stairs.

“You’ll find me dressed up upstairs with all we need in five minutes. Grab the ice.”

[tamcitrus]

Fire and moon.

pairing: Benimaru Shinmon x fem. reader

genre: nsfw

words: 3,5 k.

warnings: a bit of degradation, public sexy time, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dom/sub undertones.

tam’s notes: Hi miss @writeiolite​ ! I’m you HQC secret santa! ♥ I was so nervous when I got you omg sjkdhas because I admire your writing so much, you’re so talented and an amazing person so I was a little afraid my writing wouldn’t be good enough. I’m so thankful for meeting you and all the beautiful people in the server. Thanks for being so welcoming, thanks for letting me help you and be a part of the staff and most of all thanks for being my friend. I hope you like this ♥

I CANT BELIVE IT’S YOUR GIF BUT HEY YOU HAVE A CLUE WHAT THIS IS ABOUT NOW dsjfhksldjf

☪ ☪ ☪ ☪ ☪

When you left the Holy Sol Temple and chose to move to Asakusa, you never expected to find a man that attracted you there. The proto-nationalist land wasn't a place where you expected to have fun. You just wanted to keep a low profile and be in peace.

But then you saw this man, flying through the sky and destroying everything on his way down to finally land in front of an infernal and punch right through his chest. And something sparked inside you. It wasn't your pyrokinesis or a fight or flight response. It was something else.

Shinmon Benimaru. That was his name. Fire Force Seventh Company’s Captain. Asakusa’s King of Destruction. The #1 enemy of the Holy Sol Temple, or so they said.

After that destruction scene, you walked through the city trying to get more information on him. But also, just socialicing. It would be weird for a new citizen to ask too much about the same person. More so if that person was the head of the city.

This “king” wasn’t like others you could imagine. He wasn’t unapproachable, living in a castle surrounded of gold and extravagant stuff. He was there, among his people, walking through the streets and greeting everyone by their name. He received gifts, food, and talked to those that stopped him. You could say just by looking that he was recognized as a leader. Even when he didn’t acknowledge that himself.

The stars were on your side because soon after that you met him in the thermal waters. He was there, sitting with his arms stretched by his sides and with his eyes closed. You felt like a sparkle inside you, almost like tickles. You walked in silence to the other end of the pool, going in and sitting very slowly.

Benimaru felt another presence behind him and then felt the water moving as you submerged your body in the warm waters. He opened his eyes for a second to look at you and then closed them again. He preferred to be alone but as long as you wouldn’t talk to him he didn’t mind the company.

You were quiet the whole time you were there. It wasn’t an unpleasant silence. But you were expectant. You tried to not look at him. You really tried but you allowed yourself to observe what was on your eye level.

He was handsome. Not that you didn’t know that, but it was a whole different experience having him in front of your eyes, not even a meter away from your body. And naked. He was naked.

Of course he’s naked, these are thermal waters, you thought.

You were naked too. Suddenly you were self conscious, even when he wasn’t looking. You crossed your arms over your chest to cover yourself and closed your eyes to submerge your whole body underwater and came up again. You sat there in silence again, looking at the moon, the house behind the man, the rocks and everything but him.

Eventually he left. You looked aside but still you noticed he stopped to look at you for a second too long.

You left a bit later, after you were sure he was long gone. You said goodbye to the nice lady in the reception and went home.

☪ ☪ ☪ ☪ ☪

Later that week, you were alone having dinner in a bar and he appeared.

"I don't know you, you're new here," he said as he nonchalantly sat on your table.

"Do you know everyone in this town?" you asked him. 

He sighed. That wasn't the answer he was waiting for.

"I do, actually," he said. 

The waitress silently approached and left him a glass full of something.

"Welcome, Benimaru-san. If there's something else you need you can tell us, the house invites you today," she said and walked away.

"Benimaru-san, nice to meet you," you said, playing fool. You knew who he was.

"And you are…?"

"New in town. I really like Asakusa," you smiled. His face looked more irritated than just a minute before. "You can call me y/n."

"No last name, uh?" he chugged the drink the girl left for him.

"I got rid of it," you said. And that was true.

"That's not a lot of information."

"You'll have to buy me a drink and I'll tell you more about me," you winked at him.

He clicked his tongue and you laughed.

“Just don’t cause troubles in my town,” he said and left.

“I’ll try!” you said as he walked out.

All the people at the bar were looking at you but you didn’t care, you had fun and he came to you.

☪ ☪ ☪ ☪ ☪

Would it be worth it to cause some trouble just to see his pissed face again? As you were thinking of some options for “trouble” you went to the thermal house again. And he was there.

“You again?” he said without even opening his eyes.

“It’s a small town,” you casually said.

“Are you following me?”

“Says the guy who showed up on my table out of nowhere,” you answered as you rushed to get into the hot water.

He remained silent again. It was the same as the last time, you sitting in front of him under the moonlight in a comfortable silence.

Even if you were comfortable, you were itching to bug him some more. Still, you just chose to keep your mouth closed. You rested your back on the rocks behind you and found a comfortable position to rest your head too, so you had to do the minimum effort to hold your body. You opened your eyes again when you heard Benimaru getting out of water, you felt drowsy and rubbed your eyes to force yourself to be fully conscious again.

"Don't drown here, this is my favorite place," he said as he walked away.

You looked at him and were about to give some sarcastic answer but then you saw his bare back and his ass and ate your words.

Holy Sol, that body. It had to be illegal to be so built and so handsome.

Before you fell asleep in the water again you got up and left too.

☪ ☪ ☪ ☪ ☪

"So you did cause trouble."

Same bar, same table, same man appearing out of nowhere in front of you. You huffed.

"I defended myself," you explained.

"That's why you beated up some guy?"

"If someone fights me I'll fight back," you explained.

"Which company sent you here?" Benimaru asked.

You laughed out loud.

"I'm not a fire force member."

"You have powers. The Holy Sol Temple sent you here?" he insisted.

"I left the Temple a long time ago," you smiled.

He stared at you, you supposed he was processing the information you just gave him.

"Well, have a nice day, Captain. I might see you later," you said and left him there.

☪ ☪ ☪ ☪ ☪

That night you were the first one in the thermal house. It was weird to be there without Benimaru's big chest in front of you, distracting you from the beautiful full moon that shone over your heads. You positioned yourself again in that way that let you just be sitting without any effort and closed your eyes.

"You again?" you said when you felt the water moving. You knew it was Benimaru.

"This is my town," he answered, ignoring your teasing.

"Right, I'm sorry, your highness."

He clicked his tongue. He thought about what Konro said earlier. Maybe she just wants to provoke you, Waka.

"Are you trying to provoke me?" he inquired.

"Who knows," you smiled.

"I wanna know," he said and closed a little the distance between your bodies.

"I told you you had to take me out first if you wanna know more about me," you licked your lips.

"I could just make you tell me in some other way," he threatened.

"Maybe if you fuck my brains out…" you battled your eyelashes as sweetly and innocently as you could.

He was over you the next second, his hand pulling your hair and making you throw your head back. His body felt warm against yours, even inside the hot water.

"I know you want it too, Captain~" you chirped. "Just stop thinking for a second and let your body take control…"

Yes, he did want it. It was weird to find someone that didn't fear him or admire him as if he was a royalty member. Then you appeared and you gave him all these contradictory signals. It was frustrating. He wanted to erase that cocky smile from your glossy lips… 

He kissed you. His mouth was demanding and the hand holding your hair guided your movements at will. You locked your legs around his hips, holding him close to you, and tangled your hands on his long hair. His hands went underwater to squeeze your ass and thighs and you moaned inside his mouth. You felt his leg under your body next and with little effort he walked out of the water with you clinging to him. He walked to the changing room and let you down over the bench that was there. You were about to sit and take his erection on your mouth but he pushed you back down.

"Who told you you could move?" he asked. The answer was implied in his voice. The atmosphere changed, he was in control now. Your teasing wouldn't affect him anymore. You rubbed your thighs in expectation.

You observed him as he slowly walked to close the doors -the one that gave you access to the reception and the back door you just crossed- and then he kneeled between your legs. The fact that you two were already naked saved some time.

He started circling your clit with his still wet fingers. You started whimpering after a minute, his calloused hand was doing wonders on your body. He pushed his middle finger inside you and kept rubbing your clit with his thumb. He moved his finger in circles inside you, enjoying your moans and your walls clenching his digit. He added his point finger in and sucked your clit on his mouth one time after another until you were almost screaming.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you whined.

If he just moved his fingers a bit faster you would…

He stopped and pulled his fingers out to stand up. When you looked at him he took his fingers to his mouth and sucked your juices from them slowly and pumped his dick with his other hand, putting on a show for you.

"Suck," he said as he pushed his fingers with precum on your mouth.

You obliged. You hollowed your cheeks and suck his fingers, moving your tongue around so you cleaned them perfectly.

"You'll have to do much better than this if you wanna cum," he said like he was disappointed.

He was over you kissing you again, his tongue took your breath away. You could feel his dick against your belly, it was so hot and leaking a bit. Your mouth watered at the thought of having it on your mouth. Subconsciously your hand moved to grab his dick but he stopped you.

"It seems you don't understand you can't move unless I say so," he said. He took a belt from a bathrobe and tied your hands together with it. You whined at the restriction and pouted at him.

"Bad girls don't deserve a nice treatment," he said. "And you're a bad girl."

"I'll do better next time," you said with a pout still on your mouth.

He pulled from the belt to make you sit. Your mouth was an inch away from his cock but you stood still. You had to be a good girl.

"Suck me off," he ordered.

It was almost a relief to have his dick on your mouth. You felt the bitterness of precum at the end of your throat and the salty taste of the waters you were in minutes ago. You could barely fit it in -it was logical that such a big man had a big dick- but you still tried. You bobbed your head back and forward and twirled your tongue around his length. He cupped your breasts and pinched your nipples, your muffled moans caused a nice tickling sensation on his penis.

"This is what it takes for you to shut up, uh?" he thrusted into your mouth a few times, going deeper each time.

He growled when he pushed just a bit further than the back of your throat. You resisted your gag reflex and deepthroated him as tiny tears formed in the corner of your eyes. It wasn't unpleasant, it felt good and despite his size he was being careful, which only added to your overwhelming sensation of arousal.

You needed some kind of relief. You needed to be touched or to have Benimaru inside you, but considering his dick was still on your mouth that wasn't an option. So you touched yourself, lucky you had your hands tied in front of your body. It didn't take long for him to realize and take a step back. He sighed and looked down to you, his long hair covering most of his face. You froze as soon as he looked at you.

"On your hands and knees," he whispered.

You obeyed and smiled to yourself at his bored tone. Because his eyes were lit up, he was having fun.

You positioned yourself as you could in the little bench and waited. His big hand was over your ass just rubbing it and squeezing. Then he raised his hand and slapped you.

"Fuck," you moaned.

"I thought you would be able to take orders given your past," he said as he rubbed your skin again. "I guess not."

He slapped your ass again and you moaned. He used one hand to rub your abused skin and the other to tease your entrance. You cried at his touch, your walls were clamping around nothing.

"Ple-please," you cried when he slapped you again.

His fingers were on your clit now, circling it and his thumb was going up and down on your pussy but not inside.

"Do you think you're in position to ask something, you slut?" he bent down to talk to your ear and you got chills.

He slapped your ass again and he could see his palm marked on your skin on a little prominence. He used his fingers again to stretch your pussy and you moaned, his fingers felt good but you weren't full, you needed more.

"More, please," you asked for it. You could talk now that you didn't have his huge dick on your mouth.

He made you turn around again so he could look at your face as he finally gave you what you wanted: his dick inside you. Your face and moans were a mixture between pleasure and relief. And he was having fun. Real fun and enjoyment, not like other times he met someone to satisfy his needs.

He felt your legs trembling and your hips were moving frantically, not matching his movements anymore. So he stopped. You whined and wiggle your hips to get him to move again.

"If you don't stay still I'll walk out through that door right now," he warned.

You sighed, tears threatened to fall from your eyes again. He traced patterns on your thighs with his fingers and observed how you put your tied hands over your eyes. It was taking all of your will to not move. He was stretching you so nicely, you swear you could even feel the shape of his veins on your walls, you felt full and almost satisfied. When he no longer felt the insistent clenching of your walls on his dick, he bent down and took one of your nipples on his mouth. You cursed out loud when he took your bud gently between his teeth. You never expected a tough man like him to be so gentle. Your climax was gone again but it wouldn't take much to build it back up. Benimaru put his mouth to work on your other nipple and gave a gentle thrust that caused you to moan again. How could he stay still being balls deep into you? How could he resist the urge to just chase his climax?

He thrusted again and you felt tight, like your pussy was accustomed to him not moving. It felt good, you fit on him like a glove, just like the right amount of pressure to not fall off. He circled your clit with his fingers again and you locked your legs embracing his hips again to have him deeper inside. He kissed you again and put his arm around your waist to hold you up against him and then your back hit a wall. You throw your hands behind his head to use his shoulders for support and adjust your hold on his hips before he started to thrust again. But this time he wasn't so gentle. He was going fast and strong, his tip touched your g spot every few times and you bit his neck to muffle your moans.

"It will take more than that to mark me," he said in an arrogant tone.

You huffed. You would be all marked up tomorrow with shapes of fingers and hands: on your waist, on your thighs, your ass. You heated your wrists enough to burn the belt restricting your movements and scratched his back with force. Your walls clenched when you heard him growl. That much will do to mark him, so you'll do it again.

His thrusts were reckless and he changed his angle from time to time. He held your waist with one arm and the other was on your leg, spreading it apart for him to get liberty with his movements.

"I'm so so close," you cried in his ear.

He knew it, he could feel it. His dick was being pressed hard in your pussy and it felt better than ever. It wouldn't take much for him to cum either. He kneeled and let your body down on the floor in front of him to take your legs and put in on his shoulders so he could thrust in a different position. Your back arched out of sheer pleasure and you moaned his name again. You couldn’t even warn him that you were on your climax before it happened, you just took his arm and scratched him even harder than before. Fucks and oh-s left your mouth each time his dick rubbed your cervix. You notice he was slowing down and you knew what he was thinking.

“Fill me up,” you said in a lustful voice. “Fill me up, please,” you used your heels to push him back to you.

He didn’t doubt anymore. He was back with his merciless thrusts, balls deep into you again. His dick was a bit harder to take after your orgasm but you couldn’t complain. You just wanted him to cum inside you and you even might be able to cum again just from the thought of if it. He found an angle in which both were moaning and he kept going strong. Your legs were trembling again and he felt tiredness on his muscles too. So he buried his cock on you a few more times and the little hold he had on his body snapped. He cummed inside you and you had another orgasm when you felt his semen filling you up.

After a minute he pulled out and collapsed by your side, both of you were struggling to catch your breath. You could just fall asleep there, or maybe in the warm water? As you weighed your options, Benimaru got up and walked outside and back. He kneeled by your side and cleaned you up.

"Oh, aren't you a gentleman?" you teased him. But you were grateful he wasn't a jerk as he looked he could be.

"Shut up," he said.

He cleaned himself and got dressed. You heard him talk with the old lady manager, asking for water and something to eat.

"There's a private room, you can stay here tonight if you're tired," he said as he observed you get dressed.

"Will you stay with me?" you smiled.

"Who knows," he answered and left.

You followed him to the private room where he was already sitting and eating. You took a seat in front of him and ate too. With a bit of teasing and other bit of luck maybe you could get a second round.

☪ ☪ ☪ ☪ ☪  

[flame-cat]

ok one person liked the post so here is

Raz' Mind

the inside of what looks like a massive oversized aquato dome, piled high with bags of all kinds. the floor is damp and the height of the ceiling makes you feel like an ant. hectic and cluttered.

the first time you see raz is immediately, running around sorting bags to go to certain places in his mind. upon reading the labels, they belong to various people raz cares about- lili, the interns, his family, the psychonauts. there are none belonging to raz himself that he carries. when you find one that has his name on it, he quickly throws it against an ever-growing pile stuck against a wall. the pile looks like its barely holding back a cracked brick wall that is leaking water. when asked about it, raz says he will "get to it later." you can see why- the stack he carries is at least three times as tall as him, and five times as heavy by the way he struggles with it.

if you offer to help, he'll say "really? you dont have to, ive got it handled." if you insist, he'll be extremely grateful, showing you a small pile you can start on. its not as hard as it looks, especially with multiple people. there are many shortcuts you can take as you flit around out of the tent into other areas- layouts of all of the places raz has been. its all surface-level and nothing seems wrong. the only caveat is the lack of other people.

the "raz" pile shudders ominously.

once you go through a pile, raz will thank you and give you an item- the item varies based on how many piles youve gone through. each time you sort through a pile, you need to go back to raz and ask to help again. each time he will thank you profusely, still leaving most of the work for himself. however, once a pile is sorted, another will quickly take its place; a never-ending litany of responsibilities and distractions that raz has to deal with all by himself. there is no end in sight. when asked, raz will say hed rather do this than... and trail off as he glances at his own pile.

if you try to go through the pile labelled as his, he'll quickly stop you, shouting that he can take care of that himself later. if you insist, he will be extremely nervous but say you can if you really want to- before youre suddenly accosted by enemies! hes been holding the censors, doubts, regrets, bad moods, panic attacks, and judgements back so they won't attack you, but this stressor has finally let them all out.

once you clear them out, a leak will spring in the pile. then another, and another. the tent is flooding, and raz is desperately trying to plug the holes. at this point he will finally try getting you to leave, because you "dont need to deal with this." the only sure way to move forward is to take one of the bags in the pile and open it. once opened, youre transferred inside, and you get to see whats really going on in here.

Bag #1: the Beginning

the first bag is the memory of when raz decided to run away. you enter in complete darkness, the only light coming from underneath the tent flap in front of you. you hear muffled arguing. if you go out, you see raz and his dad arguing, mr. aquato holding up a flyer. you hear the argument play out, finishing when Augustus rips apart the flyer, saying "youre no son of mine." raz looks stricken and then runs off into a tent, presumably his own.

if you follow him, you see the inside of his tent. raz quietly tells you how much that rejection hurt him, how he tried to just forget about it and move forward. he shifts aside the entrance flap of the tent and shows you a slideshow of himself alone on the road, desperately searching for the camp and eventually making his way inside.

"i made great new friends. i saved the world. i proved him wrong. he even said he was proud of me. so... why do i still...?"

he closes the entrance, and plunged into darkness, you emerge from the bag.

Bag #2: Pressure

the second bag is more of a rapid-fire collection of scenes. it begins in the rebraining room with ford. hes telling raz hes the only one who can do this. raz looks conflicted for a moment before nodding.

the scene shifts, and now we're outside of the asylum with lili. the building begins shuddering and falling apart. a giant piece falls, rushing forwards to crush the preteens-

raz falls through the darkness into the meat circus. his dad is there, much larger, and the room is flooding. if you go up the ladder, a massive chopping knife almost cleaves you in half, wielded by ollie's massive monster dad. he swings downwards again, the knife obscures your vision-

raz opens his eyes in loboto's laboratory in the rhombus of ruin. the water is climbing, hes still strapped down, and no one else is able to help. the camera zooms out, out, out. hes alone in here. the camera goes up, and you emerge from the water...

now youre in trumans grotto. truman is telling raz that he cant tell anyone about maligula. the scenes only alteration are the puppet strings truman holds tied to raz. the boy nods. the camera turns, going behind truman, and he turns into...

ford cruller, this time at green needle gulch. once more telling raz he's the only one who can help him.

raz turns and sees the deluge. he runs into the forest, narrowly dodging water and heavy objects. raz's voice cuts through the cacophany:

"i know it doesnt matter now, but..."

a hand reaches towards him from a cyclone, yanks him in, hes drowning, hes...

the scene fades to black. raz's voice, again, hesitant and small:

"... i was really scared."

and out of the bag you go.

Bag #3: Judgement

the third bag is small and short. raz is sitting alone in a void, curled up, knees tucked close to his body. he looks very small. in the background are voices, all things hes heard before.

"... only problem was YOU..."

"... wouldnt have FOUND you..."

"... betrayed the family..."

if approached, raz says this:

"i have to be better."

and out you go.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Teddy

Notes: This is my entry for @pagesoflauren Prompts:

So, this is love” from “So This is Love” by Ilene Woods and Mike Douglas from Cinderella

“Um, you...you fight good.” from Mulan

“This reminded me of you.”

Warnings: 18 +Only, dark themes, Dubious consent due to alcohol consumption, drunken sex, fingering, out door sex

Summary: a corporate event turns into hazy regret

Dark(maybe more grey) CEO Steve x Reader

🐻

Why they decided to hold a corporate event in the middle of the work week was beyond you. But you could only blame yourself for the alcohol consumption you partook in. Your head and body ached. You had taken a few aspirin before getting to work, but it didn't sooth the pains rippling through your body. Last night was a fog that you could barely piece together, but you weren't worried. You had made it home safe and your office mates had not blown up your phone with anything salacious.

You frowned at the continuous slowed traffic at your cubical when you approached. When you spotted the source you were surprised. A sweet little box with an oversized bow sat on top of your keyboard with a tiny little note. Your coworkers all past your station giggling amongst themselves as they spied it. You felt the heat of all the attention permeate your face as you rushed to stash it away.

Taking your seat before your monitor you hid the parcel. You waited patiently until you felt no one was paying you any mind. Had someone miss placed this? Curious you read the note. “This reminded me of you.” Flipping it over no name.

You untie the bow and opened it carefully.

"Did you like it?" Steve's sudden voice made you bristle.

You fumble with the box, dropping it, spilling the contents as he leaned on your cubical wall.

"Um sorry?" you looked at him confused.

"I was thinking of getting rid of this thing, but now"

he scratched at his beard as you wrinkled your brow at him. His name was called before he could clarify his point. The distraction pulled him away, but not before he shot you a sly wink.

That was strange.

With him away you reached down to pick up the fallen gift. You rose slowly lifting a new coffee mug, turning it you see a yellow cartoon teddy bear smiling at you.

Your eyes grew round as a flood of memories drowned you. Flashes of the night before filled in gaps you had brushed off until now.

🐻

The night before

You were an expert at avoiding company events, but when the email read mandatory you groaned. The biannual event was a must for all employees foreign and domestic.

You didn't hate your company, you actually loved it. Everyone was friendly, it was a stark contrast to the cut throat companies you were used to. It was just that social events made you feel painfully awkward.

The venue was massive. Every odd person asked which office you worked in and what department you belonged to. You smiled and made short talk as you searched for a place to hide until the event was over. It was very draining, being an introvert you could only handle so much social interaction.

The corporate sponsored libations helped get you through the most part. Snatching a drink from every waiter that passed with a tray. It was an easy, trick gulp down the glass then motion to the empty cup before departing the group signaling you are going to find more. An easy out that had you buzzed, but you felt as though you were holding together well. When you found your hiding spot you breathed easier, taking the seat hidden behind a column, you played with your phone until the event whined down.

"Hey your in accounting right?"

You looked up from the phone to find John Walker. He smiled softly, slipping into the empty seat next to you. "Oh no, sorry.."

"Why are you hiding away by yourself?" He cut you off. You reached for your half empty flute and took a big gulp. Swallowing it down before tapping the glass, signaling your exit just as he began to crowd you into the corner space.

"How do you like it here?" He asked you another question stifling your exit. You could feel his breath on your face as you tried to lean away, but his arm stretched out pulling you closer.

A yelp escaped your lips when his other hand found your thigh. You don't want to cause a scene, but you want him to give you space. Your hiding space was too good. No one noticed or cared that you were trapped by a fellow colleague. "I need to-"

John pulled you down when you tried to stand and excuse yourself. "Hey" the scent of his drink finally hit your nose. "You cant leave before we cheers." His grip on you felt so firm that you worried if you upset him, his smile seemed strained and his eyes roamed you uncomfortably. John suddenly lifted the hand from your shoulder and snapped his fingers in the air, signaling a server to bring more drinks to the table. "One more drink huh? Bad luck not to cheers with everyone you know?"

You gripped your phone so hard you felt it imprint on your palm. You just wanted to go home. When the serve dropped the glasses John pushed one at you. To appease him you took it. Maybe he would leave after this. He raised his glass and you did the same. "To a fruitful quarter."

You murmured and repeated him. The glasses clinked before you both took a drink. This drink hit you harder than before, but you chugged it down anyway.

When John finished his glass he cloaked you. His eyes filled with a hunger that had you leaning further back into the back of your chair. He kept coming so close no matter how you shifted in your seat to gain distance. "Please I need to go home" you begged as he roamed up your skirt.

When his eyes bulged you were confused before you felt relief. John fell away from you, hitting the floor hard as a hulk of a man appeared standing over him. John did not appreciate it, hopping to his feet. You tried to stand yourself, but the room spun and swayed with such force you fell back on your seat. John and your savior blurred as you try to focus. You squinted as John pushed back on the stranger only to find his chin connecting with a right hook. His body fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes as you watched everything in slow motion.

It was so surreal seeing John laid out. You looked up to see the founder standing above him. Steve Rogers was the man behind the knockout punch. You snorted, laughing loudly at the ridiculousness. There was no way you saw that correctly.

He turned his attention to you, mouthing words at you, but you couldn't understand them. People began to crowd around John and your table. You were becoming the center of attention and that filled you with an urge to escape.

"I want to go home." You whimpered lowly, as you found it hard to move with so many people around. You reached your limit, there were too many eyes, too many voices, you felt trapped yet again.

"Where do you live?" His voice cut through everyone else. It sounded so concerned yet sweet it set you at ease. You slurred out the destination as he helped you up from the seat.

He felt so warm, firm and safe that you couldn't help, but cuddle into his side as he guided you out.

Your eyes started to feel heavy as your body floated along. “Um, you...you fight good.” you blurted out making him chuckle. "Thank you" you slurred out the complement. Your yawn muffled his response as your eyes closed and you slipped into sleep.

🐻

Your head lolled on the back of the leather seat as a chill nipped at your body. "It's too cold" you groaned missing the warmth that sent you to slumber.

"I miss warm" you whined tilting your head to the side, squinting at the blurry blob that resembled the sun. You reached out to find the source of warmth, but got jerked back by a restraint, you grumbled and frowned when you found a seat belt.

"Hey sleepy head." It sounded like Mr.Rogers. You had heard his voice many times over many corporate calls and monthly meetings, but that was preposterous. There was no way the high powered CEO was talking to you.

"Give me warm" you whined again, your eyes still heavy as you tried to focus on their face. You attempted once more to reach your hand out, this time your finger tips clumsily grazed over a nose before trailing up to gelled hair. "Oop. Watch it you almost blinded me there." He laughed lightly as the car swerved a bit. "Ok ok settled down I'll turn on the AC." The click and whoosh of the heater elevated the chill a bit.

"Sorry I run a little hot. Does this help?"

You hummed with delight as a warm hand reached out to glide up and down your thigh in comforting strokes. Your fingers played in the sleeked geld locks. Your thighs absorb the warmth of his hand as he kneaded your skin.

"You have arrived at your destination" the robotic voice announced.

"Yay!" Clapping your hands together ready to go to bed.

"Don't like parties huh?"

"I like home better." You yawned still very tired.

"Yeah me too" he agreed as the warm hand in your lap left. You whimpered in disappointment as a car door opened and closed. You stayed lazy sat in place too tired to move, closing your eyes welcoming sleep once again.

"Come on let's get you home." He grunted as he reached over you, waking you slightly. The smell of his cologne filled your nose as you heard the distinct click of your seat belt and feel of the strap slide away.

"Who are you?" You genuinely inquired.

He pulled you from the seat and stood you up against the car. Your body sagged, but he kept you standing. "Don't remember me, huh?" He huffed dragging you out. "Steve. Steve Rogers." He told you as he tried to keep you steady while closing the door.

"Your face is soo fluffy" you giggled as you grabbed at his beard. "No! Your not Steve! Your teddy" you dubbed shouting at him, cupping his face as you brought him closer. "You feel so good teddy."

"You think so?" Steve chuckled excepting his new nickname.

Stepping closer he pressed his weight on you and chuckled, boxing you between him and the car. "Fluffy teddy bear man" you giggled again as his cologne once again invaded your nose.

"You smell good too" you confessed as he leaned closer. His lips tilted into a devilish grin as you leaned forward to inhale along his neck. His strong hands held your hips before squeezing when you licked at him. "Tasted good too."

"Bad girl." Steve admonished leaning away from you. "Bad teddy" you frowned, pulling him closer by his blazer. "Keep me warm teddy." You pouted.

"Like that?" Steve questioned as his palms slipped down your waist then road up your thigh. You gasped when he ascended up and under your skirt. You nodded 'yes' allowing his brazened hand to slip into your panties, cupping your mound. The car rocked a bit as he leaned all his weight on you, sinking into you. His bristly beard hairs tickled your neck as you panted wildly into the cold air.

"Do you like how I make you feel?" Steve asked trailing up and over your lips. You moan a 'yes' into his mouth while you pushed into his palm urging him on.

Steve tried to pull his hand from you, but you squeezed your thighs together, not allowing him to retreat. "No teddy don't leave" you begged pouting. Steve smiled at the nickname while plunging deep in your core, curling his digits inside of you.

Your skirt road high off your ass and you felt the chill of the door on your exposed cheeks. You didn't care, you just wanted more. Lifting your leg Steve hooked it around his waist. "I love you teddy" you proclaimed drunk off his touch.

"Oh yeah" he growled in your ear, sending fire down your neck as he kissed you all over. You felt your panties pushed to the side as he pressed his sheathed need on you.

"Ummm mmm" you hummed eager for him to do more. Steve steady you with one hand while his other fumbled with the front of his pants. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your hips pushed forward. Waiting impatiently you bite your lip giving him a pleading look. "Love you so much teddy."

"So this is love?" Steve swirled his cock in your juices, teasing as he pressed hard along your eagerness. "Don't tease" you slapped at him frowning. "You want teddy to love you?" he groaned pressing his tip hard against your entrance. You nod 'yes' and hiss as his cock slowly stretched you open. You welcomed the strain while another warmth burst from your core. Your fingers tangled in his hair while Steve kissed you passionately. You panted wildly as Steve picked up speed, rutting you against the car door. "So this..." Steve stretched out each word, thrusting into you hard and deep, your slick him thoroughly. You chanted 'yes' allowing him to rut you against the car. Steve's thickness made you quiver. Despite being out in the world it felt as if you were the only two left on earth. "This is love" he sighed pushing as deep as he could go.

The warmth of him exploded all around you, melting you into him deliciously. You dissolved into him, slipping mindlessly into ecstasy.

🐻

[kim-monsterlings]

Brae - M Merman x M Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; flirting, merman’s insecurities from his family, blowjob (+ mention of teeth, nothing too explicit), drinking alcohol, NSFW scene involving handjobs by the merman, mention of touching the merman’s slit, kissing, then angst with thoughts of drowning and a fluffy-ish ending

Wordcount: 6539

“Tropemas” Summary: when the mer insisting on befriending you returned day after day, falling for him was inevitable

Notes: this comes at the beautiful request of @nikipuppeteer​ and unfortunately I had already planned a soulmate au, but I loved the idea of a mlm mer fic too much to not do it!! This really got ahead of me and I love my boys, but so much I couldn’t let it go without it being up to my really annoying standards. I hope you love them <3

Masterlist // “Tropemas” Masterlist 

No matter the dangers accompanied by falling asleep on an unanchored boat, lethargy always overcame you. It was only a small rowboat and one swayed by the gentlest of waves, hardly a comfortable place to rest and your neck always ached the evening after, but time on the sea had become like second nature to you now, and the napping was long ingrained in your afternoons out.

Though waking with water dripping on your face was rare.

Only one cloud needed to mar daylight for you to wait indoors for a brighter day. Beyond the threat of losing yourself at sea, a storm would ruin the sketchbook tucked to your lap. Fragile paper couldn’t survive the wind or rain. Scattered scrawls were no works of art, but after hours rocked at sea and memorising the crags of the cove, it was your treasure, one you took to after moving from the cities and finding peace in the small costal town, and the view was the first you’d had not from cramped flats.

Rare enough, another droplet cool dribbling down your cheek roused you to find the sketchbook damp too, tossed open. Pages wettened still from slender fingertips – clawed, tracing your latest landscaping of cliffs, pencil lines smudging into faded lines. Of all sketches, this hardly finished and quickly ruining one was nothing to prize, but the creature tipping you and your boat precariously lower with every breath seemed enamoured by it.

Watching the creature, you were torn from wanting to scare him off – if you could even scare a thing like him, corded muscle trembling with balancing your boat, sharp-finned where saltwater shone on his dark skin – or wanting to feign sleep longer, just to admire how his teal scales shimmered, clashing and darkening with navy and streaks of black. The darkest scales tipped pectoral fins, sharpened points glinting like the narrow slits in his throat, or the ridged scales rising from the curve of a dark back, down to where his long tail swayed in the water.

You itched to draw him. If portraits were your talent, the sloping of his tail beneath the water would be decorating your papers before night, if he hadn’t ruined them.

Each touch of claws almost tore through the soggy paper and he turned the page. Saltwater dripped from hair curling in the heat of the sun when the creature lurched up and the boat jostled. His hand came to your thigh before you rose from the bench, like he had known you were feigning sleep. Where he was so soaked by the sea, you hadn’t thought it possible the slender fingers stroking up your leg could be so warm, pressing against you to trace a more developed sketch – of the same view, but he admired all the same.

Seasickness had never plagued you before in all your time at sea but how the creature rocked it then made your stomach lurch. He had torn through the paper and some noise tumbled free of you, a panicked cry or curse and you reached to snatch it back before he could damage it more. The merman had stiffened. Claws you hadn’t felt before snagged at you bare thigh and the swaying of your small boat only ceased when he rose and clutched the edge tight. In a small way, you were grateful for that.

You weren’t so thankful that it brought him closer.

For the depth of colours in his scales, the sunlight brightening his rounding eyes forced back your bitterness. Equally dark hair shone a hidden navy with his head canting, though he remained as silent as you. His thin lips pulled back and you thought it a threat with predator’s teeth bared, until a black tongue slid against the points of his teeth and he smiled; a macabre smile, but the beauty of it was like the rest of him.

The sketchbook rested on your lap now, cradled, and that was where he lifted a slender arm, down to the book. Pointing to the paper then to himself, and back to you. Again. Once more, before the boat rocked.

“Do me,” he whispered, soft, disarmingly so that he came an inch more from the water and sunk the boat that much lower. “Do me or I may tip your boat.”

He dizzied your head like the boat had your senses. “You want… you want me to draw you?”

“Draw,” he echoed. When he stretched out to the paper, you let him trace the faded pencil lines and bright eyes peered up at you beneath uneven hair tangling along his forehead. “Draw me. Tomorrow at noon. Or the boat tips,” the merman breathed again through a glinting smile of daggered teeth, not entirely a tease. Smaller claws once on your blank sketchbook traced across your bare thigh, grazing up before nudging the hem of your shorts.

The boat tipped without him to held it steady, and only when he began to retreat did you catch his hand. His fingers slid through yours, claws falling to trace the deeper grooves in your palm when you asked, “do you have a name?”

“Don’t you?” In sharing yours – and hoping he wasn’t in any way fae, he smiled wider. “Brae. Noon.”

The waters carried you another hour before the touch of his thumb tracing along your wrist as he had the sketches left your thoughts. It was harder to banish him from your mind completely and he followed you home, the odd warmth of him smothered to the back of your chest where it ached. Wondering how his scales felt against you in place of his claws did you no good.

Noon came and inevitably, you were settled as far out as the day before, though you hadn’t a real choice in whether you were to return, regardless of this being a day you would nap in the sunlight without his demand.

Mer roamed the cove – it was renowned for them, notorious creatures known for luring humans out to toy with them far from land. If Brae had looked before at your art when you napped, you had no way of knowing, of knowing whether any mer had approached you before. If you left the boat moored today and returned tomorrow, you had no doubt that you would be turned into the sea.

Maybe, a little part of you so far hard to smother, wanted to see him. It was curiosity settling you on the bench of the bench, a pencil twisting through your fingers above a blank page. Most mer, those who made their homes at the cove, shimmered brighter; not so much navy but sky blue, softer hues. Brae’s fins were just that bit sharper, eyes smaller slits with less light to them, his body far stronger than any others – the first like him you knew of.

Time passing beneath the sun worked in convincing you Brae hadn’t been anything more than a hallucination. Only the damp blemishes and ripped pages anchored you a little longer – and the memory of his touch was too hard to forget, until a splash of water tipped the boat and lips pulled back into an attempted smile.

You curled the open page from range of where his head canted and saltwater dripped.

With him leaning closer, now was an opportune moment to tell him that, actually, unfortunately, portraits weren’t you specialty, else he wouldn’t need to ask for his, but the words never came when light warmed his rounding eyes.

“When will you start?”

“Start drawing?”

“Start drawing me,” he said, though his stare had risen from the blank page. Like you had only the day before, Brae appraised from your crown to your toes, tongue caught in his teeth the whole time. The weight of it settled in your chest uncomfortably; whatever mer standards were, you doubted you were anything but unappealing to a creature so beautiful, but no comment came. “Now?”

“If I’m to sketch you-“

“You are.” Deep beneath him, the slow swaying of his tail rose through to his arms curling on the boat’s edge. He rocked with every move and his attention flitted from your towels bundled at your feet to your satchel bag. “To draw me. You are.”

“I need you to-“

“On the beach.” Words overrun as you lost your thought. He hadn’t once stopped moving, dipping under the water and rising the other side of the boat, or reaching out to just brush his hand to yours before rushing back. Only his chin rested on the boat now as he said, “we should do it on the beach. Safer. Dry.”

Safer.

Coughing over your laugh couldn’t muffle it when you turned closer. “Weren’t you threatening to throw me out my boat yesterday?”

He frowned. “Not now. Tomorrow. The beach tomorrow.”

“Brae-“

Claws tipped your chin and all breath rushed from you. They were weapons, like daggers poised to cut as the predator he was, but it felt like a caress how he brought your face closer, near enough the cool air from water clinging to him brushed you. “Tomorrow.”

Being so near, the strength to protest waned. How the pencil hadn’t snapped between your fingers was beyond you; it was all that was left stopping you from returning the touch, wanting to feel his scales – were they smooth or rough, how would they feel against you? – and all you knew was that the touch of claws against the tightness locking your throat didn’t feel like a threat anymore.

If this was how mer lured humans out, you weren’t against following.

“Will you lay still on the beach for me?”

“So you can stare at me?” Brae’s black tongue traced along his teeth with a low hum. “If you wish.” he said, a rising smile binding your throat tighter.

The claws now tracing against your top’s neckline bound your throat tighter. “So I can draw you.”

“Why still?”

“If you move, it’s harder to focus. Harder to draw you. I could- can I take a photo of you?” His answer came without a need to verbalise it; his smile was nothing like a threat, far from the twisting of his face and pressed fins beneath his jaw flaring. Under passing clouds, his darkening face harshened. In an effort to calm his growl, you swallowed. “Won’t people see you on the beach?”

Curiosity drove you to again. Before him, you hadn’t seen another mer so close. Flashes of scales glimmered beneath the water but they were a reclusive kind. Why he demanded a portrait yet refused a photography intrigued you, though not enough to outrightly question.

“See me?” Brae’s cheek turned onto his forearm. Beneath the high sun, seawater glistened on his dark skin, the edges of his gills and faint scales almost glowing. “Why would anyone rather look at me than you?”

The truth tingled on your lips. That he was beautiful, and your art could never do him justice nor any photo, but you swallowed it back. Until daylight fell and left a chill, the merman curled against your side, close enough one tremor could tip your boat. Only small talk passed between glances down, and each turn was returned with a small smile until those teeth earlier bared in threat no longer focused in your thoughts. Brae fell away with a lingering run of claws against your hand and the touch stayed with you long after you found yourself retracing the beginnings of his portrait that night. After the fuss of asking, it turned out you didn’t need a photograph to remember him.

Tales of reclusive mer lessened the popularity of this cove, which had been the enticement to it in moving. Finding a shelter of jagged rocks just beyond sight of anyone passing wasn’t hard, nor was it hard to find Brae among the waves when he crept up the beach- rather inelegantly but you couldn’t have done so any better with the huge tail dragging through wet sand.

“I see you sometimes.”

Brae heeded your plea that afternoon, resting not far from reach. Returning to water wasn’t a pressing urge when he only rested, hardly an exertion, but he thanked you for the slight shelter. His knuckles reached to brush you when he spoke and otherwise cushioned himself on his arms while you contented yourself by marking him.

“Sleeping is dangerous.”

That made your pencil slip. “Have you looked at my art before?”

Brae scoffed but turned away, not before his teeth bit on his lip. Shading came easier with the slight warmth in your chest that blossomed. If he had, he must have liked the art to want his own portrait and after a minute, you looked up to find your muse gone.

Not too far but a length of his tail away, the merman dug through hot sand. Looking beyond the way his scales glowed in this light, differently to when they shimmered beneath water, he cradled dozens of pebbles in his arms, face scrunched in looking for more. The pebbles mirrored him: some dark like coal, others among the occasional shell a soft blue. He continued unaware of your standing, muffling the pain of hot sand beneath your bare feet, how it stung like needles until you crouched and kneeled beside him.

“They’re pretty.” Brae clutched them closer. He attempted a sneak at your paper like he had all afternoon, and, like you had all afternoon, you tucked it away faster. This far, so soon, it was nothing of significance, but it had promise; promise from the evening of tending to it and tonight would be the same. “Will you take them back with you?”

“We gather pebbles.”

“Why?”

Brae’s teeth nibbled on his lip. “Mer secret.”

“Pebbles are a… a mer secret?”

He moved in silence, lifting two shades of pebbles before humming. “Yes. Pick.” One pebbled a blotched black, it was no hard choice to pick the softer teal pebble. Brae slotted it in his pile before his thin lips twitched. “Can I see?”

“No.” His smile fell, and his arm trembled beneath the stones. Had they not threatened to fall, the paper would’ve been in his grasp by then. “How will you take them all with you? Do you have something to carry them in?”

On your next afternoon by his side, Brae fawned over the netting pouch with holes just small enough pebbles wouldn’t slip through. He entrusted them to you overnight for safe keeping, had watched you clutch your bag tight as it weighed you down walking along the cove, and was quick to welcome you back, already settled and sprawled against the sand. He hadn’t understood the purpose of snow angels nor sand angels, but his arms turned out in the sand, close enough to snag your shorts, until he left you again.

From that day, your time together crept earlier. Unintentionally, but he always waited no matter how early you came to the cove, and he began returning your questions. Never telling the mer secret of why he hoarded colourful pebbles, but little questions, the most repeated being why you refused to show him his portrait, and you had to swat him away from your paper each time. On hotter days when the rocky shade didn’t suffice, he crept closer until his cheek nestled to your thigh beneath the shade of your sketchbook and when a quiet overcame you, his fingers ran along your forearm, following the twitching in your hand as you drew him laying against you.

Once, he slept on your lap. The running of claws fell low and only then you succumbed, carefully tucking back the dried ringlets from his smoothed forehead. Little scales scattered his jaw and glided beneath your fingers, though you stopped yourself from following them further when he turned closer and against your palm.

You missed him when you were home. On the evenings with only a nearly finished portrait to call company, you missed laying with him.

It hadn’t taken long for you walk down late one night, a half-opened bottle tucked near your supplies. Being near the cove now helped calm you, even if you came now only to settle against the familiar rocks and close your eyes to the crashing waves. Like the swaying of your boat, the faint warmth of sand beneath you lulled you, and you woke only to a soft whisper of your name.

“I drank… I drank this.”

Damp hair fell to your lap, a quiet groan turned into your thighs. The now emptied bottle fell into the sand and rolled down when Brae laughed, at first quietly, before turning and reaching out to your face. The touch of his claws fell to a loose embrace around your neck, where now he swallowed.

This late, you didn’t want to ask why he was here, how he had known – if he had even known, or if he came just like you. You only wanted to enjoy his company, however… inebriated. It hadn’t been much alcohol, and you would only feel slightly lightheaded had you finished it, but with Brae running his claws down your chest, it had to have been a little much for him.

“Wanna see,” he whispered – slurred, trying and failing to lean up on an elbow. “Me. Show… show me.”

Perhaps through pity, you did. Only through pity, and not from the slow rolling of heat in the pit of your stomach from his claws flexing, drawing you down closer as you opened to the page. It had come a long way, far from ever doing justice to the creature gasping, his defined jaw lowering and dark eyes lifting to you, but you welcomed the flush of pride from his growing smile.

“You make me look pretty. Pretty here,” he tapped the unfinished page. “Am not-not so pretty.”

Your voice came out a whisper as you returned the sketchbook, empty bottle with it. “You don’t think so?”

“Me? Pretty?” Brae huffed, a hot breath blowing his dried hair. Falling in long ringlets, your fingers twitched and in the hopes he wouldn’t remember, you reached out to tuck it back. “My tribe. They’re pretty. Pretty. Not me.”

His cheek turned into your palm when you traced the smoother scales scattering his jaw, down to the dip of his collarbones. “Did they tell you that?”

“Always. Not-I’m not them-like them,” he mumbled, losing himself to the alcohol still thick on his breath. “Never one of them.”

The sincerity sickened you. You wished your art could be better, so Brae saw a true reflection of himself but if it couldn’t be, if your work wasn’t enough, then all you could do was say so. “I think you’re beautiful,” you whispered looking out to the calming see, so lost in it you hadn’t noticed Brae shifting closer until he was level with you. “You are. Your colourings and how you lay in the sun and… you’re beautiful.”

You had more to say, so much more, but sand became your pillow. It dirtied your hair with your head tipping further back, a deeper angle to the kiss with Brae’s thumb pressing down on your chin. His parting lips carried a salty tang, a stronger sense of your emptied alcohol, but it fell away with his breaths hastening when his curling tongue tasted you, too.

Those same lips rose into a sly smile when you found the strength to reopen your fallen eyes and found Brae kissing himself lower. Drunken touches only minutes ago felt coherent now, bunching up your shirt for his lips to warm your stomach. Pressed beneath the muscle of his tail, a slow friction worked you into a heat but he fell further with his kisses nesting lower, a pause when he tugged on your shorts.

Every touch made you tremble. Brae settled between your legs and the sight alone was burning through you. He ran soft fingers down, following your stiffened cock as it twitched and ached. His tongue jutted through his lips to the side almost in thought, a breath before his fingers stroked up your length.

“All this for calling you beautiful?”

The merman’s head canted and that curling tongue flicked up the underside of your cock. Brae’s kiss rounded against your tip until he had you hard in his mouth and your eyes rolling back from the heat of him. For a creature of spines and claws and fangs, he kissed you reverently, deeper breaths growing shallow until he swallowed around you.

Through blurring eyes, barely lifting from the sand feeling hotter beneath you, you watched and felt his lips closing around you, groaning with his flattening of his tongue along the sensitive skin. Brae braced a hand on your tensing thigh and when the other stroked lower, a slight touch of claws grazing, you groaned and rolled your hips deeper against his hollowed throat.

Soft hair threaded around your hand. His growl rumbled deep to your hips as he bowed with your guidance, arching up until his throat tightened against you. Heat rushed in your stomach and his thick tongue swirled across your tip. The warmth of his lips fell down to your thighs the longer your body trembled.

“No.” Gentle fingers pinched your jaw until your lips met his. He tasted of saltwater and you and faint alcohol, nipping your tongue. “For… for being you.”

Until the sheen left his eyes, his smile no longer lopsided, Brae rested against you. Passing whispers came beneath the darkening sky and many were from you; with each whisper of his beauty, though you burned saying it, he turned impossibly closer and ghosted lips down your throat, your chest, wherever you were nearest.

“Remind me to call you beautiful more often,” you said, leaning over him. Weak arms ran up to your neck and it felt like a goodbye when he kissed you sweeter. No teeth caught your lips and no claws curled into your nape, only a touch of foreheads before he struggled into the water.

He had told you not to watch – “it’s embarrassing,” he’d frowned, the dead weight of his tail dragging in the sand – but you watched him go, and it was the last you saw of him for almost a month.

Your corner of the cove remained abandoned by the merman. No marks in the sand were left to show if he had ever come and from there, you couldn’t see far out to the waves, not like a mer could. If he watched you where you waited for him with your heavy bag and a nearly finished portrait, he never came.

Floating no longer felt right. Being on the water wasn’t right. This beach was wrong without a glimmer of navy flitting near you and on the sunniest days, the water almost clear, a hint of scales wouldn’t be missed when you stared down. The portrait was finished now; it had been finished for days.

If something had happened to him-

The thought burned in your throat and you swallowed it back.

Worse: if something hadn’t happened to him, Brae chose not to see you.

And if Brae truly avoided you, he couldn’t stop whatever creature had begun bumping under your boat. The surface barely rose with the smallest of waves but your boat rocked again, until water splashed with every jolt, not so different from the day Brae had almost toppled you, but different in every way.

Brighter scales darted beneath you before you ducked back into the – relative – safety of the boat. This wasn’t your merman, but the churning in your stomach made you think it was his tribe. For whatever reason, they taunted you, and at least two were on you now, countering the other’s hits so all you could was curl your knuckles against the bench until they ached.

You were going to be sick.

What could a frail oar do against creatures like them?

You were going to be really, really sick.

Any option was as bad as the other. Shore was too far to swim to if you wanted to avoid a watery grave. Trying to row and lowering the oar into water would be surrendering your only paddle. You couldn’t leave your boat. The portrait bundled on your lap would be ruined; they would ruin it.

It stopped with a heavier jolt, tipping so far water flooded your feet. The jaunts fell away minutes ago but your head swum too much for you to notice anything more than the shaking in your knees, chest braced against your thighs. One final shove to your boat shoved everything against you forward. Your bag skidded, the bench almost giving out beneath you, towels tangling, but the final shove didn’t topple you.

It surged closer to shore.

Only the faintest glimmer of navy disappeared when you looked back.

Water hadn’t felt right because it wasn’t. The rumours of mer weren’t folktale falsehoods. Maybe Brae wasn’t like them, but they tried to overturn you. They tried to ruin you and your portrait and had they succeeded, the promenade steady under your running feet wouldn’t have been something you were likely to experience again.

Leaving the cities had been your distraction. Leaving your family and friends for a calmer life by the beach had always been your dream, to turn to a simpler, less stressful life, yet the beach couldn’t be your solace anymore. Thinking of even your boat made you lurch to your feet in need of something to occupy you, anything but that merman lurking in the sea, anything but the creature you still wanted to see again, the same whose face mocked you from a hidden sketchbook.

After hardly any time at all, the sudden loss almost brought you to your knees. If this was grief, you didn’t want it. If that pang in your chest was heartbreak, you didn’t want it. Flames came so near to the portrait born of hours and sun and kisses it singed, but burning the paper felt like a burning your heart from your chest.

One last time.

One last hope.

Once more, before you burned him from your thoughts. The same taunts that occupied you like intrusions softened at night, when you imagined that in place of your fist was his touch, slender fingers rolling where you cock twitched beneath him. They came in dreams, in moments you lost concentration, and stalked you down to the cove where you settled the bag, the portrait tucked beside a lighter and driftwood.

Whispers of your name from the stirring waves doused the fire in your chest. Brae made it no further than the reach of waves when you collapsed against him, rambling to his lips, “it’s done. I finished it for you but-“

“It will be beautiful.” Brae framed your face in cold and trembling hands. “Like you.”

There was a haste to his kiss unlike before. When he teased you before with light nips rousing your desire, those touches tore back your shirt and bared you to the cold night. Brae wasted not one breath that was better spent settling against you pushed apart thighs, where the hard palm of his hand fell low to rub over your shorts until he coaxed you to roll up into his touch. Slender fingers curled around your hardening cock and stroked how you had dreamed of for weeks, the pad of his thumb following up to tease the seeping slit at the head.

“I want to touch you too,” you rasped. Brae’s laugh softened in the whistles of wind at your grunt when he rubbed tighter to your thick base, but he was soon to gasp with your fingers curling into the rougher scales on his hips until he dragged against you. “Here?”

Not even the crashing waves at his back could drown out the small whine. Where his taut stomach melded with the lightest of his scales, a slick coated them. The touch of it burned against your fingertips, tracing the swollen slit. He pumped your cock in his tight fist how you teased him, arching up when he ground down, his erection rising thick from the slit.

From laying over you, Brae’s trembling lips brushed yours once more. The slow fall of his forehead brushed your hair, his curls loose against your cheek and fluttering with every deep breath. How long he could breathe without struggle on land changed, and the touch of your hips rolling up, rolling against him, clearly took a toll, shorter gasps nestling into your neck. This was an exertion for him; how he trembled at your thumb following where his hand, rolling over the slick on the swollen, purple head.

Grinding his cock to yours came with difficulty as his tail dragged in sand, but a shock of pleasure bolting up to your crown until you strained to rut against him again. The desperation locked in your bodies wouldn't settle for anything less than his cock against yours. Soft blue and deeper navy nearer the tip, your mouth dried. The memory of his lopsided smile after stealing your alcohol struck you, too similar how he slurred you name from curling his fingers and gripping your cocks together. The cry lodged in your throat muffled against the slope of his throat where you kissed the scales there, chasing the rush of his pulse beneath his jaw.

Slick from his slit and hot, it was too much to bite back every moan and curse when he rolled his hips in time with yours. Brae learned fast. His palm rolled your sac slowly, drawing rougher pants, but it was a tighter rub that made you buck up. Your cock jutted against his base, far thicker and swollen, but against the wetter scales and he cried, “again. Closer, please.”

His hot touch stirred you into a delirious high. Brae was twitching, his body rocking hard and harder when you met him faster, arching up to graze the slick, sensitive skin of his slit.

"I want you," he breathed, disoriented kisses slowing when he trembled. "Come. Come for me."

If not for him, you dragged against his waist so you could feel the heat of him yourself. Brae’s fingers locked and he felt it as you did, your cock stiff when you came against his stomach, his scales, rasping when he rutted into his palm and a thicker release came minutes later against your thighs after you traced where his cock thickened at the slit.

In the moment his final gasp left him and Brae fell against you, he ought to be drawn, to be remembered forever. Soft arms wrapped you close to the warmth of him, away from the colder winds in the shelter of the rocks. Hot sweat glistened on his scales. It stuck your hair to your cheeks, where he brushed it away with kisses and closed eyes.

“Do you think anyone saw us?”

Brae's breath caught, but he swallowed past it. His knuckles grazed down your chest and up again. Stray scratches stung beneath the touch and his parted lips kissed it away. "I hope so," he breathed, and the words stirred something in your chest. Something primal and prideful; you wanted to be seen with him, this merman come to you one day, who decided they wanted you. "You were very loud."

Panting to his chest, you smiled. "And you were beautiful."

If there were mer watching, you hadn't noticed.

No head rested heavy on your chest when you woke. Evening had been a blanket to his embrace, but the stars were your only companion at the cove. Sand settled without hint of a trail leading down to the sea and if it had been windy, you might have excused it, pardoned the long-lasting cold on your bare body.

Those questions he had brushed away with a press of his tail to your hips rose to your throat like a fuel on fire. Brae came back. Brae left, after taking you on the beach. He returned to the sea and he left you alone and bare and shivering. He abandoned you where his tribe could see, where they could reach you and your bag-

Your bag.

It had been right there, right on the rocks and wedged firm. No wind could part it from them. No wind had, and no wind would lay it so carefully by the sloping of the beach, the flap resting open. The bag looked deflated, almost like… like it was empty.

“This isn’t funny,” you called out. It was a joke. It had to be a joke. If not a joke then something far, far crueller and each staggering step nearer the waves was a twist of the knife in your stomach. “Brae?”

Harsh water frothed at your ankles. It rose in spitting shivers up to your knees then thighs, where the evening’s memories dried and washed away. The waters this shallow were clear of mer but not of what you prayed was litter. Up to your hips now, stumbling in choppy waves and the cry that tore from you was unholy. It burned up through throat like bile and stung in your eyes. It stung in your chest where your ribs caved, the soaked papers and hours of nights in your lounge wasted in one, cruel jaunt.

Not just his portrait wrecked on the waters he crawled from, but your sketchbook.

How you found your way home was a miracle. You should have stayed in the water. You should have let Brae drown you, too.

Had his tribe done it? Had they been there while he stroked your cheek and lifted your chin in a soft kiss, his scales warming where your thighs tightened? That was all you could think and all you could bear to think. If it were anything more – if he really was so cruel, you’d rather never know, would rather blame it on his tribe for tearing him away.

You could drown your boat like your sketches. That cove belonged to him. It belonged to his tribe and you wouldn’t go near the water again, not willingly and if you saw him again, it would be in nightmares.

The only family you had lived in the cities far from you and too far for them to consider buying your boat, even taking it off your hands. The wood of it was old and would burn on a fire; best to be burned completely than sunken. Brae didn’t deserve anything of yours. He’d drowned your heart with your treasure.

If this was how mer lured humans out, you weren’t against following.

Finding your boat moored and undamaged rose with a sting. The cruelty of his tribe ruined the wood beneath the water from their earlier taunting. You wished they had done more. If his tribe had sunken it, finding a dark bundle of seaweed cradling pebbles wouldn’t have made your legs sway beneath you. Whatever the mer secret behind them was, it wasn’t enough to entice you back. They weighed down your boat as they weighed on your shoulders but in settling into it before setting it alight, you couldn’t help but lift one.

It was the pebble he had asked you of, choosing from two. In your hand it felt like his scales, smooth and cold and wet.

It was still wet.

Pebbles scattered among larger stones as it fell from your hand but you didn’t watch them fall. You watched the fingertips careful on your arm, how they traced down your tense muscles with an unwelcome familiarity.

“The pebbles,” you seethed. “What do they mean?”

His touch softened and both hands rose to stroke against your unyielding fist. “Do you like them?”

Brae yelped as the favoured pebble smacked his forehead; you held another ready, but you hoped not to use it. Not to hurt him. The pain fresh in your chest urged to you but you couldn’t, and the tenderness in his hands slipping through your unfurling fingers held you closer.

His face scrunched. “When we wish to court a mate, we present pebbles. Do you like them?”

Brae never moved so slowly before – before he had wounded you enough to want nothing more than to hurt him; him, with the claws gentle on your palm and sharp teeth behind lips gracing your knuckles. No smile warmed his harsh face. Some satisfaction warmed you in shadows creeping beneath his eyes, where he lifted your palm. Loose tickled your fingers.

“I left my tribe.”

Brae’s whine quieted when you said, not in question, “taunting me wasn’t enough for them to accept you, was it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Will they welcome you back if I take your pebbles?” Water splashed with his surging up and it was then you succumbed, lifting your hand to frame his dripping face. Every whisper and clashing apology fell beneath you, blood rushing in your ears from just his lips turning to your wrist. “I’m leaving, Brae. Pretend I accepted. Say you drowned me if it helps you return to your tribe. Why you would want to is beyond me, but-”

“We mate for life. This is me. These,” he whispered, and beneath the water, distorted netting carrying more pebbles swayed when he lifted another. “These are me. Proposal of courtship.”

Approaching you had to be at their insistence. The threat to topple your boat them, too, and why Brae had insisted on land. Safer, he’d said, but that was where he hurt you more than they ever had. They may have told him to use you or trick you to love him, but it hurt the same, at their tricks or his.

He hadn’t looked up from where you stroked his cheekbones until you asked, “what does it mean to leave a tribe?”

“If I stay, I trespass.”

“What do mer do to trespassers?” Brae turned his face into your palm and your stomach fell. The choice before you wasn’t one you welcomed or even wanted to consider, but you were already reaching for the pebble you had thrown at him and curling it in your hand. “If you follow me, that is your choice. I owe you nothing. Even this is more than you deserve.”

The boat was tipping.

“But if you follow me,” you drew in a sharp breath. “I say when the courting is over and if I accept you. If I refuse, you respect that.”

His breath warmed your lips.

“And I will never draw you again.”

It was a lie. That morning, his face plagued every breath. Every fleeting memory of his touch consumed you. Scatterings of scales covered old papers and already your fingers itched for more, to purge him from you, but when you accepted – if you accepted him, only then would you ever consider sharing your art with him again.

Burning your boat could wait until the water dried from the sloping of scales to your chest, lips soft on yours and apologies sweet on his tongue. It could wait until he followed you wherever you chose, offering pebbles and nights sprawled on warm sand, where you always woke with a head nestled against your throat.

When.

[aadikted]

Winners Keepers

A/N - Ok so until now, I have mostly written on Peter Parker x Reader. But i just had to write on Nick Scratch. I know its Nabrina for life, but a girl can dream, cant she? Special thanks to @darkshadowqueensrule and @miniaturepizzadyedhairfreak​  for helping me and encouraging me! Hope you guys enjoy it! 

Pairing - Nick Scratch x Reader

Enemies to Lovers

W/C - Around 5k!!

Warnings! - Some explicit scenes (no sex) and a lot of snarky retorts!

Enjoy!!

~~~

You and Nick had gotten off to a particularly rocky start. Anyone who knew you knew that you could hold on to a grudge. When you had first met Nick, you had to admit that he was dashing, and you may have developed the tiniest crush on him. I mean, come on, you were a witch after all! But all those admiring thoughts flew out of your head as soon as he had opened his mouth. He was probably the most arrogant and cocky bastard you had the misfortune of meeting. He hadn’t said anything to you, but the way he spoke with the others, you just knew. This was just your first day at the Academy of Unseen Arts, but everyone already knew you. It was quite inevitable, after all, you were Sabrina’s best friend and she was pretty popular here, even if it wasn’t for the right reasons. Sabrina didn’t have this class with you, but you knew you would see her later. Meanwhile, all you could do was marvel at Nick and his big head.

As if sensing that you were staring at him, he turned around and looked at you. He cocked an eyebrow, “See something you like, Y/L/N?”

“Nothing worth seeing here, Scratch.” 

You knew you were treading dangerous waters, but you couldn’t help yourself. Both of you maintained eye contact with each other, as though you were under a spell, and suddenly the moment was broken by the entrance of Lady Blackwood. 

“Now students, I expect that you all have memorized the lyrics of the song?” 

“Good.” She exclaimed as all the students nodded.  “Miss Y/L/N, please sing the first verse.”

You could feel everyone's eyes turn towards you and you decided that it was better to die than being in the limelight. You could see the weird sisters looking at you. They looked like predators, just waiting to hound on the unassuming prey. But what really irritated you, was the way Scratch was smirking at you. Like he knew that he knew that you would fail. This ignited a fire inside you and you decided right then and there, that no matter what, you would never let that asshole have the satisfaction of seeing you fail. 

Taking a deep breath and steadying your nerves, you started singing- 

“It's time we put our love behind you 

The illusion has been just a dream 

The valley of death and I'll find you 

Now is when on a sunshine beam

So bring all the young perfection 

For there us shall surely be

No clothing, tears, or hunger 

You can see, you can see, you can be”

You gave yourself to music and the notes. You were so engrossed in your singing that you didn’t notice that Nick was staring at you. 

~

Nick was enthralled. Your voice had captured his soul and he felt...light, as though he was floating in the air. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that you were a siren, lulling unsuspecting victims into your trap. Nick, would never admit this, but when he had felt someone staring at him, he had totally expected it would either be one of the weird sisters or some guy who didn’t like him. He never expected that he would be looking at you. He was rendered speechless by you. It was not your beauty that captured his eyes, but the way you carried yourself. Your eyes looked as though they could drown someone in its depths. Your stance declared that you would not kneel to anyone and your lips looked like they could kill with just words. He was unnerved by what you made him feel, and in an effort to seem cool he opened his damned mouth and released a string of words. 

“See something you like, Y/L/N?” 

He cursed himself as soon as the words left his mouth. There was no way that that was playing it off cool.

“Nothing worth seeing here, Scratch.”

Ah! He should have expected this. She had a mouth on her. This just made her seem more interesting. He was unable to take his eyes off her and their eyes met, as though in a match to see who would emerge victoriously. Before a conclusion could be reached, they were interrupted by Lady Blackwood. She asked Y/L/N to sing the first verse. 

This is going to be interesting. He thought to himself. He couldn’t help but smirk. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. Guess the confidence was just in her posture. 

Suddenly, she threw a look at him, and then, it was as though another spirit had entered her body. She gathered herself and prepared to sing. She looked captivating as hell and he could only stare at her. He imagined he looked quite ridiculous then. He felt ridiculous. But it was impossible to rip his eyes away from her. She demanded attention, even if she didn’t want it. And then, she began singing.

~

You held your breath as soon as you finished the song. It felt that if you took even a single breath then everything would come crashing down on you. However, Lady Blackwood had no such trepidation.

“Oh my! That was rather...well done.”

You finally allowed yourself to sigh in relief and looked around you. Your eyes caught Nick’s, but you diverted them as soon as they met and in doing so you missed the soft, admiring smile which graced his face.

Fortunately, the rest of the class passed without an incident, and you were practically sagging with relief as you made your way to the Cafeteria where Sabrina was waiting for you. 

“Y/N/N!” She exclaimed as she waved you over. “Survived your first day I see?”

“Hardly. Most of the classes went fine, but Singing was horrible!” 

‘Lady Blackwood? She made you sing too?”

“Yeah, by myself too! As if my crippling anxiety and awkwardness weren’t apparent enough. 

Sabrina let out a laugh and just shrugged as if to say, School can be the worst. You gladly agreed with that.

You both continued to talk about your day but were then interrupted by Nick. 

“Nick!” Sabrina happily exclaimed as you made a face upon his entrance.

“Hey ‘brina.”

“Y/L/N.” he acknowledged you with a nod

“Scratch.” You replied coldly. 

Sabrina finally caught up on the tension between you. Too scared to address it, she continued to talk as though nothing had occurred. However, you were too busy staring daggers at Scratch to even listen to what she was saying. From the looks of it, Nick wasn’t paying attention to her too. 

Sabrina finally gave up and decided to address the elephant in the room. 

“I gather you have both met before?”

“It would be hard to forget that meeting” You replied from with a grimace.

 Nick just ignored her question.

“I see you are just as pleasant as ever Y/L/N.”

“Couldn’t find any other table which could accommodate your big head, could you Scratch?” You casually replied as you turned away from him.

“You know, you should come with a warning label. So that people know that you are just as snarky as you are pretty.”

There was a beat of silence. Sabrina looked like she couldn’t breathe, while Nick looked horrified when he realized what he had just spoken. You, on the other hand, were downright gleeful at this opportunity.

“You think I am pretty, lover boy?” You smirked. 

“No, I just think you are pretty dumb.” He retorts in the most flustered and juvenile manner. 

You can't help the smirk which was growing on your face. You felt evil and you liked that. 

“Are you sure, lover boy? The only one dumb around here would be you. I did beat you in singing today!” You sniggered.

Pfft, please! That was just singing. You are nowhere near as capable as I am and you never will be. 

The way he said that angered you. How dare he insinuate that you were not as capable as him.

While these thoughts raced through your mind, Nick just stared at you in awe. He knew that he was getting on your nerves, but it excited him. The way your eyes flashed, how your expressions changed just as swiftly as the conversation. If you had been any other person, he would have asked you out immediately. But you weren’t any other person, and he liked that about you. What he couldn’t seem to figure out though, was why you were so angry and annoyed with him. He hadn’t done anything when he had first met you. Sure, he had said a couple of things now, but you had been aggravated with him long before that. He knew he would never be able to get close to you the way he wanted. To get you flushed for him. To make you scream his name in pleasure and to make you hot for him. But he knew that you would never allow that. At least, not yet. So for now, he had to be content in just seeing you flush out of pure rage, to hear you scream his name from frustration and get hot and bothered by him. 

His thoughts were interrupted when you stood up and slammed your hand on the counter. Fortunately, it wasn’t loud enough for the other students to take notice. However, you couldn’t care less even if the entire world could hear your proclamation. 

“I warn you Scratch, you will be begging for mercy before the year is through and you will regret ever saying that I wasn’t as capable as you.”

“I assure you, darling, I won't be the one begging.”

If looks could kill, Nicholas Scratch would have been one very dead man. 

“Dream on, lover boy.”

“Is your drama going to have an intermission soon, darling?” Nick teased.

You just gave him an evil smile, 

Oh lover boy, the curtains haven’t even risen yet. 

~

You had meant every word you had said to Nick that day and you were adamant to prove that to him. You studied hard and practised every spell you could get your hands on, even the ones which weren’t in the syllabus. You were the youngest in the school, and Nick had been there for such a long time. You would be damned if you couldn’t beat him. 

Nick knew that you had been perfectly serious and had no intention of losing without a fair fight. He also started studying and revising. 

There was an undeniable shift in the air between the both of you. There was palpable tension and everyone could feel it. The competition between you just continued to grow and everyone was roped into it. Sabrina was shocked to see you so serious, but you were her best friend and she supported you. She became your study partner and you both tackled studies together. 

You and Nick spent most of your time in the library studying, Sabrina had other things to deal with, and you didn’t force her to join you. However, you would have preferred it, especially since lover boy had decided to torture you more by sitting next to you in the library. You never conversed with him, even if he tried to. 

One such day, you were doing your work in the library when you were interrupted by Nick.

“Your solution is wrong.”

“Funny. I don’t remember asking for your help.” you snarked back.

“Come on Y/L/N, wouldn’t it be just easier if we tried to get along?”

“No, and you shouldn’t even be here.”

“Why not,” he asked

“Because I don’t want you here.” 

Nick gave a sigh of resignation and just left the library. He really liked Y/N, and so he couldn’t bear to see her working herself to death.

You felt a twinge of guilt as you watched him leave. Maybe you had been too harsh, but you couldn’t help it. You had to pass. Failing wasn’t an option

The next day, you went to class with a determined stance. You would prove it to him. Your hand shot up in the air to answer before the teacher had even finished asking the question.

Yes, Miss Y/L/N?

You confidently gave the correct answer and turned back to throw a victorious smile to Nick. But you were surprised to see that he had never raised his hand. Maybe he didn’t know the answer, you mused.

However, when the rest of the day passed in a similar fashion you knew that he was doing this intentionally. With each passing hour, you grew more and more frustrated until you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

It confused you, you couldn’t understand why you were so frustrated by this. You should have been happy that he had given up, cause that meant that you had won. But, this felt empty and bad. That was when you realized that it wasn’t the competition you had been craving, but him and his company. The realization that you actually liked that fucker hit you like a bolt of lightning. You suddenly couldn’t breathe and had to lean against the wall to support yourself. How could you actually like him!? He had constantly made stupid remarks and his ego was so inflated that you actually wondered whether he would burst! But, even as you thought that, you started thinking about how he was nice with everyone around him. He helped the slower students and he was always courteous with everyone. Maybe you had been too quick to judge him. Sure, he got on your nerves and constantly rubbed off your wrong side, but he hadn’t been mean to you. You took a shuddering breath as you realized how wrong you had been. You groaned as you realized that you now owed him an apology, but only for being mean to him first.  You would never apologise for trying to best him because that was something he was responsible for. Your feelings for him was something you didn’t want to address yet. It would fuck up your already fucked up life. 

As soon as the school ended you made your way towards the library and waited for Nick. When he started passing by the door you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him inside a secluded corner as you slammed the door shut.

The surprised expression on his face would have been rather comical, had you not been mad at him.

“What do you think you are doing!?” You practically growled at him.

“I honestly have no idea right now”

“Don’t play smart with me,” you snapped, “Why haven’t you been answering the questions?

“Because I don't care anymore!

Any thoughts you previously had about apologising to him flew out of your mind. 

“What do you mean you don't care anymore?” You inhaled sharply, “You started this entire thing!”

“I didn’t know that you were going to make yourself crazy over this!”

Why do you care whether I make myself crazy over this? You started it and you are going to finish it!

Nick just pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled, “I am not doing this Y/N.”

“Why did you start this then?”

“Because I didn’t know how else to get you to talk to me!” He finally shouted.

A queer silence descended between the both of you. He looked at you as though waiting to see your reaction. That was when you noticed how close you were standing to each other. Your bodies were practically touching, and your breaths were intermingling. You couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting to his lips. You lashes fluttered as you looked back up to him, only to see that he was staring at your lips too. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You rose on your tiptoes and kissed him. For a moment he didn’t kiss you back, and you felt like your hopes were drowning. Maybe he didn’t like you that way. But then, you felt his lips move against yours. Your hands weaved through his hair and his encircled your waist. You jumped off the ground and wrapped your legs around his waist, ankles crossed to support yourself. Your mouth never left his as he turned around and you felt your back hit the wall. It didn’t hurt you, but you just held him more tightly. Your tongues clashed and you could taste him on your mouth. His lips then left your mouth even though you didn’t want it to and he placed kisses on your neck. You both were heaving from breathlessness, but you didn’t let that deter you. You placed kisses on his cheek and felt his hands travelling up and down your waist ever so slightly brushing against the underside of your breasts. You threw your head back in pleasure as you felt him getting bolder and travelling further down your neck. His hands brushed against the sleeve of your top, but before he could push it down, the door flew open and you both parted as though struck by lightning. You turned around to see Sabrina staring at you with wide eyes. 

“What the fuck happened here?”

You tried to control your breathing, and you could see that Nick was doing that too. Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to explain the situation. 

Did he regret it? Did you overstep any boundaries? You had practically attacked him and did not even give him a chance to say. With every such thought, you were getting more and more horrified. Your feelings must have been written all over your face, and Nick easily read them, however, he thought that you were horrified at the thought of having kissed him. He felt as though someone had ripped his heart from his chest. In a quiet voice, he answered Sabrina’s question, 

“Nothing.”

Nothing. That word broke your heart. Nothing. That’s what you meant to him. Nothing. That’s what had happened between you two. Nothing. That’s what would ever happen between you two. That word conveyed more than enough about what you meant to him.

“I need to go.” You said, as your voice broke over the last two words.

You rushed out before anyone could see the tears streaming down your face. You could hear Sabrina following you out, asking you to stop. But you didn’t stop until you reached your home, where you finally broke down in the arms of your best friend

~ 

Nick watched in devastation as you rushed off. He thought that when you had kissed him, it was because you had actually felt something for him. But upon seeing your reaction when Sabrina stumble upon the both of you, he knew that it was pointless. With a sigh of resignation, he started making his way out of the room. Before he could do so, however, he was stopped by a hand on his chest. 

Well, well, well. Looks what the cat dragged in. Heard you and Y/N finally decided to fuck the life out of each other.

“You have the rest of your life to be a jerk, Agatha, why don’t you take the day off?”

“Ooh. Snarky! I like that.” Agatha exclaimed as she fingered the collar of his shirt. “Why don’t you forget about her and let me show you a good time?”

Nick’s patience was thinning fast. He grabbed her hands off his body. “I don't have time for this Agatha.”

“Fine,” she said as she smiled evilly. But don’t come running back to me or my sisters when that bitch leaves you.”

She turned around and left the room, leaving Nick alone to ponder about everything that had just conspired. 

~

“What happened Y/N?”

“I kissed him”

There was a beat of silence.

“And he kissed me back.”

More silence. 

“Say something.” You pleaded as you looked at Sabrina. You both were sitting on her bed. You didn’t want to be in your house with your snoopy siblings, so you had begged Sabrina to have this conversation at her home. Sabrina was naturally dying to know what had happened so she readily agreed. 

Finally, she spoke, “I thought you hated him.”

“I thought so too.” You sniffled, “but I guess I got so caught up in the stupid competition that I didn't even realize when my feelings for him started changing. But it doesn’t even matter now. He doesn’t like me back the way I do. I was nothing to him.”

Sabrina felt helpless as she looked at you. 

“You should forget about him. You deserve someone who actually likes and doesn't just use you as a pastime. You deserve more Y/N”

You knew that what Sabrina was saying was correct but you couldn’t forget about Nick so easily. You needed some time alone.

“You’re right,” you said as you stood up from the bed. “I do deserve more, I just need som-some time ’brina. I’ll see you tomorrow, kay?”

Sabrina just nodded as she watched you leave.

Back in your home, you took a bath trying to forget about everything that had happened today. You scrubbed your body as though trying to forget about how he had touched you. How his hands had roamed on your body. How his kisses felt on your skin. The way he had kissed you, the way it felt when you touched him. Needless to say, the bath hadn’t helped at all. You came out of the bathroom more frustrated than ever and as you crossed your room something caught your eye. You turned around and saw your reflection in the full-length mirror. It wasn’t your nakedness that made you feel vulnerable, but the marks that had been left on your body. Love marks, you realized. Your neck was peppered with his love marks and it just served to make you sadder. Your fingers brushed against the marks and you thought that you could still feel the way he had touched and kissed you. You were startled out of your daze when you heard someone say your name. 

“Y/N”

You were shocked to find Nick staring at you and for a moment you were frozen. It was only when you noticed him averting his eyes, did you remember you were naked. Gasping, you quickly wrapped your towel around your body and stared at him

“Nick! What-how are you here?”

“Well, I am not really here. I’m astral projecting”

“Praise Satan! You can’t just do that. I was naked when you came into my room!” 

“I did enjoy the view though.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

You felt your blood boil. He had no right to do that. To joke as though you were the best of friends, as though nothing had happened.

“Stop!” you practically screamed, “You, you can't just do that!” 

“Sorry, I was just trying to-”

“I know what you were trying to do.” you cut him off before you could finish. “But I mean nothing to you. You don’t get to kiss me and touch me and then just leave.” 

“You were the one who left.” He retorted

“Only because you said it meant nothing to you.”

“I didn’t mean that! Sabrina just startled me with her entrance and I said the first thing that came to my mind.” 

“Go away, Nick”

Nick inhaled sharply when he heard his name on your lips for the first time. 

“Why do you care so much about what I said”

“Does it matter?” You said resignedly “Why are you here?”

“To tell you that I don’t want to leave this time. 

You froze, worried that if you moved then whatever trance this was, would break.

“I want to go out with you. I want to kiss you and touch you. And I don’t want all that while we are hiding in the darkest corner of the library.”

You could hardly breathe. He wanted the same things that you did. If this was some kind of cruel trick then you would kill whoever was responsible. As you were thinking about that you realized that he had stopped speaking, waiting for your response

“Y/N, please, say something.”

Do you really want that? you said breathlessly like you couldn’t believe it.

“All of it. And all of you.” He smiled as he continued, “From the moment I met you, I was enchanted by you. Everything you did, captivated me. I wanted to talk to you but I was rendered speechless and somehow the first things that came from my mouth, were insults. Then, I guess you hated me and I knew that you would never talk to me. So, I tried to irritate you and mock you. I never meant to start this stupid competition but it was worth it if it meant that you would at least look at me, so I went along with it. Today, when you kissed me, I was afraid that if I stopped you would leave me. And then you did leave me. But I don’t want to leave now, not unless you want me to.” 

His entire monologue felt like a breath of fresh air. You felt like you could finally breathe again. As soon as he finished, he looked at you with hopeful eyes. 

A small smile graced your face, “I owe you an apology too. I judged you way too harshly, even before I knew you. During the entire competition, my only goal was to make you lose, but I couldn’t help but see how kind you were to everyone else. How intelligent you were and how much fun I had whenever we were competing. Every time I was away from you, I was craving for your snarky remarks and when you laughed that stupid laugh of yours whenever I said something even marginally funny. I don’t want to leave, nor do I want you to leave”. 

You were smiling so much that it hurt, but it was all worth it to listen to his laugh as you talked. There was a moment of silence when you finished speaking. 

“Do you really want all that?” He asked as if he still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“I do,” you confirmed. “I wish I could touch you right now.”

“Me too. Would-would you mind coming out to the academy right now?” He asked in an unsure tone, afraid that you would say no.

Your smile grew, even though you thought that wasn’t possible. 

“Race you to the tree on the boundary?”

‘You’re on!’

Nick vanished, and you gave a disbelieving sigh, still only partially convinced that all this was a real. You quickly grabbed and wore the clothes you had laid out, and rushed from the back door towards the academy. 

You hadn’t expected that you would reach the tree before him and therefore you weren’t surprised when you saw him waiting there for you. As if sensing that you were approaching, he turned around and his face broke into a smile. You rushed towards him and threw yourself on him, hugging him with all your might.

“I was half-convinced that I was dreaming.” You confessed to him.

“Dream of me a lot, do you?” He asked you in a teasing tone. 

You laughed and pulled back from the hug, and instead leaned in, joining your foreheads. “I’m glad you are still the same cocky bastard.”

He smiled at your teasing and grabbed your hand, weaving his fingers through yours.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine.” He said bashfully.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him, “You know...I can kiss better than you, lover boy...!”

You felt him silently laugh against your lips, “We’ll just see about that, darling.”

~~~

Congrats! You reached the end! I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave me comments and send some asks and love!!

[dancingazaleas]

bertholdt hoover | mc donald’s

HELPLPPPP i love he 🥺 i love he so much

sorry if this was trash :-(( i was rlly sleepy when i wrote this. pls enjoy

warnings/notes: cursing, modern au, highschool au, bertholdt, reiner, marcel, and reader are seniors, porco is a junior, reader is marcel’s twin, bert is ambidextrous (my headcanon), hard pining, bert’s a music prodigy, female reader

when you meet him, it was at your house on a friday night.

porco and marcel had decided to have their obnoxious and messy friend group over at the house while your parents were away for the weekend doing god knows what.

you were just annoyed that your mom said their friends could come over.

it wasn’t that they were inheritaly bad people, it was just that they were overly loud and, somehow, always forgot to pick up their shit before they left. you’d always get your ass chewed out by your mom for it too.

you also hated going downstairs whenever they were there. if marcel or porco caught even a glimpse of you, they would pester you to play a round of super smash bros and wii sports with them and the group. whenever the two of them started to pester, usually reiner would join in until you would cave. reiner was annoying when it game to game nights.

so, you sat upstairs in your room trying to go to sleep and drown out their laughter and yelling, but you couldn’t. they were too fucking loud.

you texted both porco and marcel angrily, telling them ‘shut your fucking mouths i cant fucking sleep’. you concluded that they were too distracted to notice your texts when they continued to yell and laugh. you scoffed and decided that you’d just try to scroll through social media and rant to ymir over text.

30 minutes had passed and the group downstairs showed no signs of quieting down and you were starting to get hungry. so with a sigh, you made your way downstairs towards your kitchen with the intention of finding pizza flavored goldfish in mind.

you were glad you weren’t noticed when you passed by the living room, that meant no pizza flavored goldfish. you opened the door to the pantry only to find cereal, protein powder and bars, porco and marcel’s chips, and the food your mom and dad ate.

this meant they had used your food for this get together. you groaned loudly and slammed the door to the pantry shut. the echo of it immediately silenced the large group in the living room, which held your next homicide victims.

you stomped into the room, irritation written all over your face as you looked at your brothers, who were hugging each other in fear.

“first, you ignore my texts asking you to shut your big fucking mouths. then, you decided death when you chose to serve your friends my food.” the two teenage boys nodded wearily.

with a battle scream, you jumped over the coffee table and on top of them on the leather couch, fists swinging. they shrieked in fear, scrambling under your weight to get away as everyone else in the room laughed at the scene.

you sat on porco’s back, the main offender, and held his head up by digging your thumbs into the bones of his eyebrows.

“porco, if you want me off of your’s and marcel’s ass in the next week; you better drive me to fucking mc donald’s, get me food, and pay for it!!! deal?!” you shouted at him, kicking away the hand that was reaching around to shove you away.

he slammed him palm onto the couch two times, “okay, okay!!! deal!! now get your ass off of me!!!”

you let go of his face and got off of him, but not without giving him a hard slap to the side of the head.

reiner hooted and clapped his large hands together, “another wrestling victory for (name)!!!”

everyone laughed a little, and you did a little bow before plopping down next to pieck, a college student you met in junior year while she was a senior who you were actually quite close with.

“how do you always manage to get your ass kicked by (name) everytime we come here,” zeke, another friend you’d met in junior year while he was in his senior year, snickered at the misery of porco.

“ha ha,” porco gave a monotone laugh, “leave me alone old man.”

“porco, where’s my mc donalds,” you sang and watched marcel roll his eyes a little.

“(name), it’s 11 o’clock at night. i’m not going to get you fucking mc donalds,” porco snapped but cowered away when you made the slight movement of getting up onto your feet.

“bertholdt’ll drive ‘em!” reiner piped up and everyone turned to said bert.

you felt yourself getting flustered when you took a look at bertholdt. he was tall and lean guy cowering in the corner of your couch with dark red cheeks as he stared back at you. his hair was a dark brown and he had the prettiest light jade colored eyes with a hooked nose right between them.

“oh...,” you were stunned, which was a uncommon occurrence, and felt like it was just you and him, “yeah... i’m down. i don’t think we’ve met before.”

bertholdt gave a shy nod and stood up for the couch, and you noticed just how tall he was. before you could make a step towards him however, porco jumped to his feet and got between you.

“nope! changed my mind! get in the tr—,” you shoved him back onto the couch next to marcel, who had a small and gentle smile.

“bert’s gonna get some,” pieck teased with a giggle as she poked at your sides from her seat.

you laughed bashfully and slapped her hands away, telling bertholdt that you were ready to leave when he was. pieck seized her attacks when you followed after bertholdt when he made his way to your front door.

“don’t forget to use protection,” annie shouted nonchalantly, the whole room bursting into laughter.

after that, both you and bertholdt hurried to get out of the house and into his car.

which led you to now, sitting in the parking lot of the sketchy and dingy mc donald’s eating and talking.

“wait, so when reiner...,” you chew while laughing, “told you marcel had a twin, you thought it was a prank?”

bertholdt chuckles shyly and nods, “yeah. i just.. i never saw you around cause no one pointed you out when we were at school. reiner would do stuff like that ever since we were kids.”

you shake your head with a smile, “so, why’d you decide to transfer to titan high just a couple weeks ago?”

bertholdt thinks for a second, “better music program. reiner mentioned something about it to me once, so then i did my own research. titan has multiple opportunities for their students to get a chance at getting scholarships to prestigious universities for fine arts by competing. also, all my friends are here.”

your heart swells as the way bertholdt eyes shine as he speaks of the music program, so much that you forget to answer for a second.

“oh! so, what instrument do you play?”

“uhm... i play the cello, violin, viola, double bass,” he pauses, “i’m learning the harp, piano, lyre, and the guitar.”

you gape at him, “so you’re a prodigy?!”

he blushes and gives a small shrug, “i’ve never really considered myself as such... but i guess by definition i am.”

“th-then why the hell are you going to titan high?!”

“i still wanted to be a normal kid. my dad put me in public schools with decent music programs so i could still play. my favorites are the piano and the cello.”

“hold out your hand for a second,” you request, to which he obliges.

you take it into your own hand, eyes scanning over the palm of his massive hand. his fingers are worn and he has a writer’s bump on his middle finger despite it being his left hand. he has a bandaid on his pinky finger and the tips of his fingers are a flushed red as well as his knuckles. his nails are perfectly even and trimmed and you notice a scar on his thenar stretching to his radial longtitude crease. you run the tip of your finger over the scar, ignoring how bertholdt flinches at the contact.

bertholdt’s blushing and he feels like he’s going to pass out on the spot. the only other girls he’s been this close to were pieck, annie and his friend ymir, who all have girlfriends.

but then bertholdt feels the soft skin of your lips gently kissing at the scar on his hand with your eyes closed. his heart races and it feels like it’s beating out of his chest.

bert’s pretty sure he can see black dots in his vision.

you look him in the eyes now, “i know we haven’t known each other for that long, but you’re really beautiful, bert.”

bertholdt flushed cheeks turn pale as he faints.

[maybe-its-micheal]

Like an Orange Spark...

/rp /dsmp

Ghostbur watched as Dream, Tommy, and Techno talked. He was sure he had just known what they were discussing, but now the context seemed to slip through his fingers... he was used to the feeling, though, and shrugged it off. He tried for a few minutes to pay attention, but kept forgetting what everyone was talking about, amd decided to do something else. He turned his back to them, and let his eyes wonder across the snowy landscape.

It was really was a lovely day, the leaves of the spruce trees swayed slightly in the chill breeze, leaving shadows dancing on the ground. A few small bushes peaked up over the snow, dotted with red berries, and the sun sat in the center of the cloudless sky. Ghostbur heard a slight rustle from a near by bush, and spotted a hint of blue from behind it.

"Listen, Techno, you owe me. Im calling in that fav-"

"Friend!" Ghostbur yelled, interrupting whatever it was Dream was on about.

Techno's expression, a mix between anger and concern, shifted to pity as he looked over at the ghost. It was odd seeing the man who he'd once fought alongside like this... he was a capable leader, and a dangerous enemy. But that was in another life...

Tommy was tense, and flinched as Dream snapped his head around to glare at Ghostbur. He grumbled something under his breath before turning back to Technoblade. "Look. I dont want to make this a big thing-" Techno put a hand up to interrupt as he gave Dream a serious look. He turned to Ghostbur, handing him a lead.

"Hey, Ghostbur. Me and Tommy need to talk to Dream, but I saw a patch of blue flowers on the other side of the village. How about you take Friend and see if you can find them?" He asked.

"Ok!" He responded excitedly. Blue was his favorite, he was always looking for more. "You guys have fun!"

He tied the lead to Friend and ran his grey fingers through the soft wool. He turned to go, hearing a few hushed sentences as he walked off.

"He shouldn't have to watch something like this," Technoblade whispered.

Dream scoffed. "Not like he'd remember anyway. But now that he's gone, I want Tommy to..."

And the voices trailed off. Wilbur decided to fill the quiet by talking to friend- that always cheered him up! "Today I've been spending lots of time with Technoblade!" he told the sheep. "We brewed a whole bunch of invisibility potions together, it was lovely. You know, I think they may be his favorite kind of potion, he kept going on about how much he wanted to share them with Tommy." He gave a slight chuckle, then stopped walking. He turned around to look back at the group. "Technoblade seems to really like Tommy. I cant imagine why..." he said with a jokey smile, eyes fixed on Tommy. He was a bit hunched over, still looking at the ground. Every so often he looked up, nervously glancing to Dream with big, glossy eyes, and then looking back down. Ghostbur frowned. "Maybe that was a bit mean to say. I was only joking," he clarified to Friend. "Tommy isn't all bad."

Ghostbur turned back around and kept walking. On his way to the village he got to thinking about Tommy... he could be really annoying, there's no denying that, but he also had a lot of good qualities. He remembered when they were first making L'manburg together; those were good times. Tommy had been very brave, then, and determined too. No matter how grim a situation looked he never seemed to be afraid of Dream, he just kept going. Maybe he was just a naive child, but in the end... the details were fuzzy, but Ghostbur was sure that in the end it was Tommy who did something to secure the future of their nation.

In the quiet he couldn't help but overhear some of the conversation taking place back over the hill. Their voices were getting louder, maybe they were all excited about something. A smile dawned on Ghostbur's face- maybe they'd sent him away because they're planning a surprise party! He stopped walking again, and did his best to listen.

"I am not handing him over to-" Techno's voice yelled.

"... control over... give it to me! Him. Give him to me!" Dream responded.

"You've done enough dam..."

"... never should have trusted..."

"I dont want to kill you."

It was hard to keep track of who was saying what, but it didn't sound much like party planning. Ghostbur went back to walking- he could see the wooden roofs of buildings in the distance, which meant he was getting close to the village.

In all the yelling he wondered why he couldn't hear Tommy's voice. Maybe he just hadn't listened hard enough- that was probably it. Being quiet is quite unlike Tommy, Wilbur thought.

"Come on, Techno... favor... my..."

"I dont want... can't betray him agai..."

"...Im sorry."

"Theseus."

Theseus... he wasn't sure why, but that name lit something up in the back of his mind. It was only there for a moment, like a flickering spark. A memory. Phil had told him and Techno about Theseus when they were kids... it was a bedtime story, he thought. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and shut his eyes, trying to focus on it, and see if he could get the spark to come back. Friend looked at him with a tilted head and bah'ed, as if to ask why they stopped walking.

"... can make a deal..."

"Hand him over... want..."

"I'll never fall for..."

"He's just a kid, Dream. He..."

Wilbur could see the spark in his mind- a little glowing dot of orange bouncing around in an infinite void of grey and blue darkness. Then, all at once, the spark lit up, erupting into a flame that filled his entire mind. Ghostbur jumped backwards with surprise, falling into the snow.

His mind took him back to another time; another life, when he was another person. The war was still going on, the first one with Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy. Eret had already betrayed them.

In his mind, he saw Wilbur- himself- no, Wilbur- standing on the banks of a lake back in Dream SMP territory. An oak path stretched over the water like a bridge, and Dream stood to one side, Tommy on the other. They both held a bow and a few arrows.

Fundy and Tubbo were there with him, and so were George and Sapnap. Everyone was deadly silent, except for Wilbur. He was counting, loud and clear, his voice echoing over the scene.

"...in it for me..."

"...give you... ever want..."

"Fine, its a deal."

"...I'm sorry, Tommy..."

"... Theseus... cliff... the person he took refuge f..."

"...faster."

"... seen it coming."

The talk was drowning out the memory... the firelight was flickering, and peices of the scene were covered with grey darkness and splotches of blue again. Ghostbur was desperate to hold on, he held his head in his hands and pushed his eyes shut tight. "No no no no no," he muttered to himself, hoping for it to stay just a few moments longer. Through the fading light he heard his past self reach the number 10 amd stop counting... Tommy and Dream turned around to face eachother.

"Please, Techno, I dont want to go," Ghostbur heard from back in reality. Tommy's voice was breaking through his memory... it was all falling apart.

"Come on, Tommy. Take off the armor, don't make me do this the hard way," Dream replied.

"I dont want to, Techno. Hes going to kill me, please!"

"I'm not going to kill you if you cooperate. Hurry up," Dream barked.

The memory was almost gone. There was no more Fundy, or Sapnap, or oak path. It was only water as a heap of bubbles disturbed the surface. When they cleared Ghostbur could see Tommy struggling in the water. He was about to reach the air again, but then-

An arrow plunged itself through Tommy's heart, killing him instantly, and it all came flooding back.

He was snapped back to present day, and running back to the three. Friend was left behind in the snow. Dream shot Tommy. That was the memory, how Tommy lost his second life. Dream shot him. "You BASTARD!' He shouted at the top of his lungs as he sprinted back the way he came. "You fucking BASTARD!"

Then the darkness started to come back... Ghostbur balled his hand into a fist. Dream let out a yell... and it all went grey.

Next thing he knew, he was seated with Technoblade in the house. He looked around. "Oooh! You're brewing! Are you making invisibility? Thats your favorite potion," he told the pig. Techno looked up.

"No, its... harming." He replied. "I thought- you know since you're undead it would work kind of like skeletons and zombies."

"Aww, it's for me? Thanks! But why would I need to heal?" He paused, feeling a bit cold. There was a draft- maybe a window was opened upstairs.

"Because-" Techno stopped and looked at the ghost. "Do you not remember?"

Ghostbur paused. "Hmmm... well I know Dream came to visit. And then... something about an arrow? No, that wasn't it... I guess I dont really remember. What happened?"

Technoblade sighed, and set the potion down. "Nothing big. Im just glad youre ok."

Ghostbur laughed, "well yeah! It's not like I could die again!" That draft was getting big- he looked down.

"Oh." He said. There was a massive hole in his yellow sweater, but the grey akin underneath was left unharmed. "How did..?"

"Dont worry about it. Phil is already working on making you a new one, too, by the way. It'll be blue."

Ghostbur gasped. "Oh my god!" He exclaimed with a smile, "thats my favorite color!"

Technoblade chuckled. "I know, Ghostbur. I know."

"I should tell Tommy," the ghost decided. "Where is he?"

Techno's face fell. "He... had to leave."

Ghostbur shrugged. "I don't remember that, when?"

"Just a few minutes ago... he went with Dream."

Ghostbur smiled pleasantly. "Thats nice, they really are such good friends."

"Yeah..." Technoblade replied. "Friends."

[troop52]

do u !!! have any character theme songs for the troop boys? Like any songs you think really fits them (and why u think it fits)?

THATS A GREAT QUESTION!!

Before I get into it Im going to plug this collaborative Troop Playlist on Spotify, feel free to add onto it!! Continuing with my picks

I think a lot of the songs I associate with The Troop in general are just because I happened to listen to them around the same time I got into the book in the first place (So they could only be tangentially related BUT only if you squint hard) Example: Drunk by The Living Tombstone, cant really tie it into the story but in my mind its linked Some better, more fitting songs under the cut (Side note its LONGGG IM SORRY... Also its all YouTube links because some of these arent on Spotify :'^()

Disclaimer -Like 95% of my choices arent really a "These lyrics match up exactly 1 to 1" but more of an overall "the vibe/general idea its trying to capture lines up" type thing. If that makes sense.

Its Alright by Jack Stauber: Kind of self explanatory, I think its a perfect song for these guys. From "It's alright, I'm here, Everything's alright, Feels weird but calm, I wanna hear It's alright" to the whole sound of it- its all great. Equal parts distressing and sad with an almost eerie calmness to it. Despite it all theyre gonna be alright, right?

The Second Little Piggy by Worthikids: Another one that I think is sort of self explanatory- at least with the chorus. "If my brain turns to mush, If the shit hits the fan, Will you be my friend?" Kind of the falling apart of everything, specifically their relationships, in light of the incident.

Poor George by James Supercave: Another case of "listened to at the same time I read the book" BUT I was actually making a Troop PMV script with that song. I never finished it but maybe Ill revisit it... just for you

Cold Summer by Le Matos ft Computer Magic: I dont even think this takes place in the summer but the VIBES and also it came from Summer of 84, which is another good piece of murder boy media.

Treehouse by Alex G ft Emily Yacina: This is a Eef and Max type of song because they are bffs and thats final. Basic song because Im not creative, but I think its a nice heart to heart theyd have (with Eef doing the talking)

Fifteen Minuets by Nick Krol: On the flipside heres a song that goes with Eef and Maxs friendship fracturing, once again more from Eefs side than Maxs. THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGG

As far as songs for the boys as individuals hmmm thats a good one that I havent thought about as much...

MAX + The Ghosts by The Real Tuesday Weld: That survivors guilt... lyrics arent like a perfect match but I think it gets that sort of hollow feeling across. Hes haunted man... + Final Girl by Electric Youth: Ok its a little funny because har har Final Girl Trope but I mean HE IS ONE. ANd dont look at me its a nice song- "Others were gone, and you kept going on, You know they never really noticed, you were always different, One by one, They're all done, And you're the last one standing" + Going Grazy by Lonesome Wyatt and the Holy Spooks: HONESTLY this could go for all the characters but Im tagging it onto Max because hes the one who has to deal with the aftermath of losing everyone (sorry survivors guilt Max again </3) "Everyone's saying my mind is unsound, 'Cause I always see you when you aren't around" "They're gonna wrap me in a jacket of white, And lock me away in a room without light" is what cements it as a Max song for me

EEF + The Existential Threat by Sparks: Once again starting sad, I link this one specifically to his paranoia about the worms- especially with lines like "Can't they see the existential threat is on its way". Kind of exasperated no one else can see the danger (he thinks) hes in. + Wrecking Ball by Mother Mother: I know I know its basic but I cant help it!!! Eef anger issues arc we are shaking hands me too + Haunted by Laura Les: Eef struggles with people seeing him as "just like his father" and I think we can get some good angst out of this track if we keep that in mind. Especially the back half of the song with lyrics like "Do you think I'm frightening?" and "Mirrors shatter when I'm passing, broken glass and crashing" since he is just a reflection of his dad (to others at least). Also song good.

KENT + Goodbye Mr A by The Hoosiers: Mfw the disillusionment with authority sets in. I think the vibe fits when he had that little epiphany about how adults are fucked- not perfect but it gets the idea across me thinks. + I'm Gonna Win by Rob Cantor: Ties into his need to "win" aka be the best at everything, be in charge, all that jazz! Hell do whatever it takes to be successful, even if it hurts. That was a little emo + Toba the Tura by Forgive Durden ft Chris Conley: Not to be emo again but "They say you're gifted, well I just see a scared kid. They must have flipped it, your skills are latent. O, you snuffed the glow. Replaced it with coals. Threw away the throne... This mess that you've made, it's a six-foot grave. It's a home for your lonesome bones that remain. We'll disappear, but you'll stay here to rot" AND SO ON AND SO FOURTH representing his fall after it was revealed he was sick. He was referred to as "the uncrowned king" and was on top of the world but then POOF that all crumbled and it was made out that he basically deserved what happened to him. It would be fun to make a pmv of him with this song (Simplifying my thoughts a bit because Ive already written a LOT)

NEWT + I Earn My Life by Lemon Demon: Ok a little Kentcore but Im actually having a hard time coming up with songs for Newton so here we are, they can share. Newt existential crisis moment time I guess + Know How by The Crane Wives: POV Newt struggles with going through with the plans he makes to keep everyone safe (stopping Max from touching Kent, going back into the cabin, etc) "I am not brave, I am not brave, I keep my focus on what is safe, You drew a line, made up your mind, And now I'm struggling to realize" And also maybe struggling with his place in the group and as a person in general- all that living through his cousin thing. "I gotta wrap my head around, What my heart is telling me, I've been trying to drown it out, Just because I know what I am, I am supposed to do now, Doesn't mean I know, Doesn't mean I know how" + On The Outside by Oingo Boingo: Idk man. Hes on the outside lookin in!! Loner nerd!! Its ok though, we still love him

SHEL + Bad Blood by Creature Feature: The lyrics speak for themselves: "I can guarantee I will do evil things, The only way that you can stop me now, Is if you put me in the ground, Somewhere I'll never be found" + Frontier Psychologist by The Avalanches: Hinges on the fact that the principal or whoever was like "Your sons a freak" and Shels mom was like "HES PERFECTLY FINE" while Shelley was like dismembering an animal or something + Johnny by American Murder Song: The songs good but theres this ONE LYRIC that sucks so the link provided is an edited version and also a lovely Warriors oc video I think you should all enjoy and support <3 Anyway Shel would be Johnny I could see this song being a scene in the book. Field trip to Shels house and they find his murder garden

If anyone wants more for Im not opposed to making another post :^)

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Day 21

Prompt:  Pick your favorites (1 or more) and combine them! Trail of color combined with impossible to lie to soulmate.

Word Count: 2,170

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01,​​​ @spoopy-turtle,​​​ @lizluvscupcakes,​​ @more-fandon-than-friends​, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo, @the-sympathetic-villain, @8-writes, @lizzy-lineart, @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun, sirprplsnail

Soulmate taglist:(Send an ask to be added or removed!) @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, @mikalya12, @8-writes, @lizzy-lineart

CW: blood, mentioned side character death, mention of knife, (just in case) mention of police/detectives.

Logan stepped out of his car and approached the crime scene. “What do we know so far?”

“It looks like a homicide, Detective.” 

He turned his head, glaring at him. “It looks? Do we not know if that’s the case? Surely if this were a homicide, the victim would still be here. So, is the body on site? Or at least on it’s way to the morgue?”

The cop cowered into his jacket slightly. “Yes, Detective, there was a body.”

Roman walked over. “Shoo! I’ve got him, you go get a break.” Logan rolled his eyes but turned to follow the lieutenant as the cop wandered off in relief. “So, what we’ve got is a body, footprints, a murder weapon, and three distinct blood samples.”

Logan nodded. “Two against one, not great odds for the dead guy.”

Roman barked a laugh. “Yeah, you could say that again.”

They entered the house and Logan took his time walking the scene. He examined the almost comical outline of where the body had been found, the placards for evidence, and the splatters of blood. He lingered on certain spots for reasons unknown to those around him. Sometimes, he would pull out his phone to take a picture to look at, his expression neutral. It wasn’t for another hour or two before he left to go back to the precinct.

He drew up a file for what they knew so far and added a personal note of ‘Is my soulmate one of the killers?’ He pulled the file for the victim and found that it was one Patton Hart. The man had been an upstanding citizen who worked at a local bakery. Logan made a note to call the bakery and give the owner a notice of Patton’s passing.

The next day, the call was made and he was off. He knew this was going to be an easy job and he also knew that he shouldn’t have taken it. He thought his emotions wouldn’t get in the way, that he would be able to take this case and not think about the fact that the person he was hunting could turn out to be his soulmate. He tried not to think about the implications of that and how it would impact his decisions.

No, he didn’t think about how he could be on his way to incarcerate someone who could end up being the love of his life if the circumstances were different. He didn’t wonder what that person was like, if they were cruel or soft to those they loved, if they slept lightly or deeply, how it would feel to have them next to him.

He didn’t think about how easy it was to track their path due to the glowing purple trail highlighting their every move, how this was worse than fish in a barrel because the fish at least knew there was no escape while his soulmate, this criminal and killer, thought they were free, thought they’d actually get away with this. They had no way of knowing that their life had been on a timer the second Logan stepped inside that house. No, he didn’t think of any of that. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, the music blasting in the hope of drowning out those thoughts.

He didn’t know how long he drove, only that it had taken him all day before the trail swerved off road. He pulled into a farm area and parked on the side of the dirt road. He stepped out, his service weapon close at hand in case things got nasty. Approaching the door to the farmhouse, Logan tried to look professional or at least laid back, anything other than the bundle of nerves and live wires he felt like.

He pushed through the door of what looked to be a bed and breakfast. “Hello?”

A man poked his head around the corner. “In here, honey bun!”

Logan followed the voice. “I would ask that you refrain from pet names as we are strangers but I can already tell that would be a lost cause.”

The man laughed, pulling his sunglasses down just enough to look over them at him. “If you keep that up, we’ll get along just fine, sugar.”

Logan sighed but sat down in the kitchen. “I’m just here to ask a few questions, I’m not going to be staying the night.”

The man sat down opposite him at the large wooden table with a live edge. Logan took a minute to glance around the large and airy kitchen, the current main source of light being the windows giving it a homey look. His eyes went back to the man before him and he slid out pictures of the people the blood samples matched. “Have you seen either of these people lately?”

The man paused, the towel he’d been using to dry his hands held suspended in his grasp. While he looked over the pictures, Logan looked around the room for any trace of his soulmate and found faint ones but nothing to go on. “The left one's name is Virgil. I don’t know the right. What would a sweet boy like him be doing messing with the law?” The last sentence was said quietly, as if it wasn’t meant for Logan to hear.

Logan sighed. “So, you’ve seen Virgil in the past few days? Could you point me in his general direction?”

The man put his towel down. “I could. What do you need him for?”

Logan decided to just tell a half truth. “I just need to ask him a few questions about something that happened a few days ago.”

He nodded before jutting his thumb over his shoulder. “Emile told me he’s out back chopping wood or something.” He shrugged. “I will never understand him.”

Logan thanked him for his time and exited through the indicated door. He found the trail of purple leading around the side of the building and followed it, coming upon the sound of wood being split by an axe. A purple hoodie in the same color as the trail lay nearby, discarded by the person chopping wood. He traveled around the corner and found the source of the sound.

He cleared his throat to get the man’s attention. The shirtless man startled and turned. Logan knew he was his soulmate based off the trail that led right up to him but he still wasn’t prepared to meet him like this. Putting on a professional face that made his features neutral, he spoke. “Would you mind answering a few questions?”

His soulmate, the man who might be a criminal, Virgil nodded. “Am I allowed to finish this pile first, Officer?”

Logan smiled, sitting on the grass nearby. “That’s fine. And my actual title is Detective.”

Virgil nodded before swinging the axe again, letting it hit and spilt the piece of tree trunk before him. Logan took the time to examine the man. The homicide was committed with a kitchen knife in a stabbing motion and this man certainly seemed capable of it. Logan’s eyes lingered on his biceps, seeing the definition of the muscle and he knew those muscles were practical, not dehydrated for a bodybuilding competition.

The last axe swing hit its mark and Virgil left the axe in the stump, moving to pick up a discarded shirt to wipe his face of sweat before downing part of a water bottle. “So, what can I do for you, Detective?” He sat Indian style in the grass facing Logan.

Logan looked through his notes. “Were you in the city two days ago?” He gave the address for the house as well.

Virgil’s expression was stiff as he nodded. “Yes, I was there. I’m assuming you want my witness statement?”

Logan looked at him as he pulled out the photos from the crime scene. He meant to reassure him but he forgot about the inability to lie to his soulmate. “You’re actually currently a suspect.”

Virgil tensed. “You don’t know I didn’t do it, do you?” He scrambled to his feet, beginning to pace as he ran a hand through his hair that must have been matted with sweat. “I was a victim too!” He reached down, pulling up his pants leg to show a large bandage. Logan noticed a smaller one on his cheek and one that was somewhere between them residing on his nondominant shoulder.

Logan didn’t know what to do. With his soulmate being unable to lie to him, he had to take his word as absolute truth. Still, there was a small part of him that wondered if it was only a one way soul connection and Virgil wasn’t his soulmate. “Okay, I understand.” He swiftly put away the crime scene photos, instead pulling out the random stack of mug shots he’d compiled before he left. “All I need you to do now is help me figure out who did this. Can you do that?”

Virgil’s pacing slowed, coming to a stop in front of Logan. He looked down at the pictures, hand on the injured shoulder. He scanned them as Logan watched his eyes, fear evident in them when they came to one particular picture. Virgil pointed at it. “That one. That’s him.”

Logan looked down to see the mug of the third blood sample staring back at him. “Okay, that will be helpful.” He rose to his knees with minimal effort, gathering the pages up. “I’ll be on my way then.”

Virgil’s hand clutched his sleeve, keeping him there. “Can I ask a request?”

Logan turned to look at his soulmate, the man who wasn’t a killer, the one who was a victim, and his face softened. He allowed himself to show emotion, his face the picture of concern. “Yes?” His voice was soft too.

Steel crept into Virgil’s eyes, turning him into something that looked dangerous. “I want to come with you.” That same steel was in his voice, almost turning it into a command instead of a request.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Why would you deliberately ask to meet your attempted murderer?”

Virgil’s voice remained firm but sadness tinged the edges. “He killed my best friend and I want to watch his face when justice is served.”

Logan nodded, softly chucking him under the chin. “I guess I can stay the night to give you time to shower and pack. Would that be acceptable?”

Virgil nodded, releasing him to grab his things, their arms brushing as he headed inside. They spent the night at the bed and breakfast, Remy seeing them out in the morning with a quick hug and a “Bye, babes!”

They both climbed into Logan’s car, the detective making sure to turn the radio down and off before Virgil got in. Virgil put his bag in the trunk before walking around to get in the passenger side, a sketchbook in his lap. Logan smiled at him as he got in, handing him the aux cord. “How about you pick the music for the ride? I don’t have any preferences when it comes to music.”

Virgil nodded and plugged his phone in. Logan expected him to play rock or emo music but instead a soft ballad was followed by a catchy pop song. The drive was spent in relative silence as Logan headed in the direction the actual killer had run. Finally, Virgil turned down the volume and spoke. “So, what are we doing now?”

“I’ve already communicated with the precinct so they know you’re a witness under my protection. At the moment, I feel no need to inform them that you’re my soulmate. That will be done eventually but I assumed after this was over would be soon enough.” He glanced at his soulmate. “Unless you would like me to alter the timing at all?”

Virgil shook his head. “No, that’s fine.”

“In return, I was informed of the last known location of your attacker. I was told it was close to where you resided, which, at the time, only perpetuated the idea of you working together. However, I am more inclined to think he was stalking you in an attempt to finish the job.”

Virgil’s hand slid closer to the center console. Logan allowed his right hand to let go of the steering wheel, letting it rest near Virgil’s. The purple clad man smiled, holding the hand in a loose grasp, one that told Logan he was free to pull away when he needed to. “So,” Virgil asked, “are we going to arrest him now?”

Logan nodded. “That’s the plan.”

A silence descended that was more comfortable than the one before, one that knew they were on an even footing. So, even as the music was turned up and a song from a musical came on, they both reveled in the companionable silence that came with the other’s hand in theirs. The car sped on, eating up the road easily as they headed off to get justice for Patton Hart.

Maybe one day I’ll give this a second part where they take down the killer.

[bisexualsforprompto]

Miraculous: Reborn (Maribat Injury AU)

AO3

One (Here)            Two

“G-good morning,” a young blue haired girl begun in shakily in English. “My name is M-Marinette D-dupain-Cheng and today I-I-I.” The red haired teacher at the front of the class put a hand on the small girl’s shoulder and spoke to her soothingly in French, “It’s okay Marinette. Just do your best, English is hard sometimes!” Marinette smiled a toothy grin, she was missing her two front teeth like most of the other ten year olds in her class. A blonde girl filing her nails with her hair tied up in two twin braids scoffed, “Dupain-Cheng can hardly do anything right. Just move along to the next presentation!” The carrot haired girl in glasses next to her giggled.

“Now Chloé, not everyone is a natural at English, and besides, Marinette-“

“I can so do things right Chloé! Just you watch and I-“ Marinette stomped as she brought her notecards up to her chest, then she felt a stabbing pain in her stomach. She fell to the ground and covered her stomach. Chloé laughed, “See you cant even stand right!!!” The class save for a young boy in a red cap that was far too big for his head and glasses who was Marinette’s best friend started to snicker. Marinette couldn’t react to her classmates harsh words and giggles, the stabbing pain was back and worse this time. She clutched her stomach and felt panic when she felt something sticky and wet clinging to her shirt. 

Rolling over to lay down on her back she drew her hand away from her belly to be greeted with a sickeningly salty red liquid that smelled metallic. Marinette heard gasps come from all around. She recognized her teacher coming over to Marinette to help and the redhead muttering, “It must be her soulmate.” Caline Bustier started to scream as a long cut was being drawn across her pupil’s throat from an invisible blade, “I NEED HELP IN HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!” Screams erupted as the class saw the blood gushing from their fellow classmate, a small petite blond in pink started to cry as she was shielded away from the scene by a tall black haired girl. Nino couldn't look at his best friend without bile rising in his stomach, this couldn’t be happening! It was all a bad dream! He’d wake up, and Mari would be fine and her happy loving self!

Marinette couldn’t stop wheezing, it was like she her lungs were burning. She was trying to breathe but she couldn’t. She felt something sharp pierce her neck. She felt her blood moving into her mouth. ‘NO NO NO!!’ all her senses screamed at her. She couldn’t think straight, it was as if alarms were ringing in her head but they all kept building louder and louder into a cacophony that gave her a headache. She choked on something and coughed up that same thing. She realized it was blood when she saw her horrified teacher with her blood she previous coughed up standing above her.

The last thing Marinette heard was her best friend shouting, “MARI! MARI NO!” 

The last thing Marinette saw was her teacher’s terrified yet helpless expression.

The last thing she smelled was a metallic salty substance that overused all the other smells she had ever known.

The last thing she tasted was her blood, like she was drowning in it.

The last thing she touched was the first scar she had ever received from her soulmate as she thought of how much she loved them even though she didn’t know them yet, how much she loved her parents and Nino.

Then black.

Sabine traced her fingers on the grain of her daughter’s maple coffin. It had been months and she and Tom were still too heartbroken to bury her. They had given her a proper funeral but refused to bury her, ‘it made it too real,’ Sabine mused. Sure people thought it was weird for parents to keep their dead child’s coffin in the room their child used to live in but people also thought it was weird for a ten year old to die because her soulmate was brutally murdered.

Sabine sighed, she and Tom had prayed so long for a child only for her to be taken away. Oh the resentment that brewed inside Sabine from her daughter’s soulmate… The soulmate bond, like the one she shared with Tom, connected the two hearts through spirit and body. The spirits of those in the bond would gain the injuries that the other had received. Sabine glanced down at the scar which led her to her soulmate. 

She had been in the bakery when a rather klutzy young classmate ran in and crashed into the door. Sabine had giggled and then realized a bruise appeared in the place bruise that the man had run into the door. She cherished it that’s when she had finally met her soulmate, the one she was destined to be with forever.

Sabine had always loved soulmate bonds, only about half the population had one, but when her pride and joy was dead because of the soulmate bond she was beyond angry. She knew Tom felt the same way, but he wasn’t as good at articulating it. 

Everyday she and Tom would find separate times to talk to their daughter. It had been this way since she died, Sabine relished the times she got with her daughter. She just said the little things, how her day was going, how much she missed her daughter, and how Tom was. One day she found herself so sick of missing her daughter, all sorts of parents and their children had visited the bakery that day. Sabine cried more than she ever had and cursed the very day Marinette’s soulmate was born.

Sabine closed her eyes at the memory, it wasn’t her proudest moment but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t stopped resenting. Sabine sat on her daughter’s old bed and straighten out the covers. She felt tempted to open the coffin, she her beautiful girl one last time, but she couldn’t.

She remembered the time when she experienced her first loss, her grandmother. Her father had warned her the day of the funeral that when she saw her grandmother she wouldn’t be looking at the same person she knew for thirteen years. Her father said it was in the eyes. The eyes read the spirit of the soul. Sure enough, Sabine found herself, just a meager teenager, standing in front of the casket of her grandmother being haunted by the lifeless eyes that laid before her.

The eyes plagued her nightmares for weeks.

Choking out a sob, knowing that she had seen her daughter’s lively, bluebell eyes for the last time Sabine clenched her fists. She began to hear the cacophony of emotions calling her.

Anger, for the one who put her daughter there.

Fear, for the daughter who must have had so much before she died.

Sadness, for the girl she had loved so much.

And betrayal, betrayal from God himself. Sabine had never been overly religious but it was easier to have more to blame for the tragedy that befell her daughter. Sabine cursed Him, how dare he choose to take the one thing that mattered from him. Her sunshine, her daughter, Marinette.

Sabine felt her vision cloud, she started to feel her eyes cross over but remembered the trick her therapist taught her, ‘five things I can see: Marinette’s pink bed sheets, Marinette’s desk, Marinette’s window, Marinette’s balcony, Marinette’s...coffin.’

Sabine shook herself, she needed to stay focused, ‘four things I can touch: Marinette’s bed, Marinette’s old sketchbook, Marinette’s favorite dress, Marinette’s...coffin.’

Sabine gulped and took a deep breath as she continued, ‘three things I can hear: the birds chirping outside, the mixer whirling downstairs, Marinette…’

Wait, Marinette?! Sabine shot up. She knew she wasn’t in her best frame of mind but she knew what she heard. It sounded like a whimper and then it disappeared. Then she heard it again, this time a scream sounding like her daughter’s and a pounding on wood. The pounding got stronger and the screams got louder. Sabine held her head as she keeled over. 

‘Where is it coming from?!’ She asked herself, until she realized exactly where it was coming from. It was coming from the place she dared not to open. Sabine had to though, if there was even a small chance that her daughter was screaming. A small chance that it wasn’t Sabine’s imagination, she had to take it.

Sabine Cheng thrust open the coffin to her daughter’s eyes.

They weren’t dull like her grandmother’s eyes, there were rich, gorgeous, and alive. She stared in wonder as her daughter stared back, no longer screaming.

Marinette caught her breath before sitting up in the wooden coffin,

“M-maman?” She whimpered as Sabine wrapped her child in a hug. A now revived Marinette embraced her mother back as all her memories came back. She remembered the biggest memories first: the ones she loved, her favorite days and the moment she died. It was one thing to die, Marinette realized, it was another to die and then realize you were living. 

‘A miracle,’ Sabine cried, ‘My daughter is miraculous.’

And at that moment two souls, two halves of a whole, were gone no longer.

They were reborn.

Taglist:

@persephonebutkore @northernbluetongue @vixen-uchiha @caffeinetheory @18-fandoms-unite-08