#liquid smooth fanfiction

[solarstellarstar]

Et tu, mea vita? | diabolik lovers oc fanfiction

Summary: Solar is not immune in her senior’s conquest to trample through all those who foil his glamour. Her rose-coloured lenses of him shatter.

Characters: Kou Mukami, Solar Fumika (OC)

Warnings: Psychological bullying, gaslighting, public humiliation, absolutely no shipping Solar and Kou, oneshot (potential sequel?), very melodramatic, Solar is eighteen years old here, no beta we die like Cordelia Sakamaki, unreliable narrator? (I genuinely am not sure if this counts, I am so sorry for any confusion) Words: 1,309

Love washes over Solar’s complexion as she continues to pat her own face with a compact cushion fastened to her fingers. After ensuring her eyes shimmer with enthusiasm for the fourth time, she struts into the sparkle-adorned building. It had only been eleven hours, fifteen minutes and twenty-one seconds since Solar’s official debut concert, but the taste of success seemed to already be muscle memory for the girl.

As the noirette had finally graduated from a mere idol trainee, the unwritten rule of celeb life could finally be applied. Setsuna had finally been invited to party with the stars of the industry. She could use this chance to further her appeal among her stellar colleagues. But Solar wasn’t stupid. For a freshly “rookie” idol, she already knew to keep herself from stumbling out of line. The ‘people’ present will be actors, directors, models and idols. Successful people that have never been anchored to the abyss of the charts.

But the fresh idol knew that everything will go just fine. How? She isn’t alone, of course! The star of the show (also officially known as Solar’s mind) is here. ‘Senpai’ at work, ‘Kou-kun’ at school but ‘dearest’ in Solar’s eyes (no one knew that but her, duh). He’d consistently been reliable throughout her journey to her debut. What she didn’t know, he taught. He mentored. He… fostered. Accept gifts. Sell dreams at every window of opportunity. Don’t be caught in public with a figure of the opposite sex. Book private rooms at restaurants. Don’t agree to interviews for tabloids. Despite wanting to no longer be coddled under his wing, she always found herself walking back to him whenever the situation called for it. And Kou was happy to deliver.

Was it free? Of course not. With her flaring admiration, Solar didn’t mind at all. She -equally- felt it was fair that Kou be rewarded for all his hard work. She was happy to be unofficially labelled as “his reliable, hard-working pet”, all that effort did pay off in the end. It had only been a few hours and those mediocre, underground wannabes wouldn’t even be able to kill to get a place here- if they wanted to.

And that’s not to say that it was a wonderful stroke of luck that Setsuna had made it. The journey was far from a smooth marble path. Twenty minutes after her debut concert had concluded, peculiar… inconveniences attempted to pester her when she went to go rest backstage. Trinkets located in her purse began to just not show up. Whenever the girl tried to put on a cute cardigan, strange prickly sensations would poke into her back.

It must be that addictive feeling and high of success. Anticipation overshadowed those short-term memories of where she left her belongings and the eagerness to experience all of it again must have made the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen up. Oh, how it hurts to be victorious.

Directors downing drinks on the right, actors passing kisses on the left. Kou wasn’t kidding when he said that these parties’ atmospheres were heavy.

Him. Him. Him. Him him him him…!

He was all she could think about. Solar didn’t dress up in his favourite colour for nothing, after all. She doesn’t intend to cling to his sleeve and be his arm accessory for the whole evening, but using every opportunity to bond with him would be delightful. They had so much in common now! He would still be the respectful mentor to her… but she was no longer a little amateur, trainee A.

After exchanging sugary salutations with the others, the golden shine of his hair reflected into her deep lavender pools. Over at the food table. With a friendly smirk and a high flick of the wrist, he ushers his kouhai to come over to him from afar.

And that enchants Solar like a spell. She contentedly trudges over to him in her two-inch kitten heels. “Kou-kun!!”

“Hey~ look at you! So brave of you to show up here on your first day.” His charms made the air around him more pleasant to take in, god. The blond’s familiar but warm smile is enough to make her go weak in the knees. Kou’s cerulean eyes flickered up and down her appearance. That only put Solar more on the spot as she feverishly averts her gaze.

“It’s mostly thanks to you.”

He tilts his head in amusement at that statement. Curious, he observed, “Feeling extra unsparing with your compliments tonight, are we?”

Too suffocated in the engulfing feeling of flattery, she opens her mouth but her response is delayed too late to the point that multiple of the other attendants already surround Kou. Setsuna watches as they casually interact with him as if Kou had gone out to drink with all of them for years. Her lips curve with contentment, radiant at the fact that Kou’s presence is being appreciated. Not wanting to disturb anything, she directs her attention to a few snacks on the table.

Pudding sits a bit further behind the fruit punch bowl. Her lilac eyes glisten at the sight of it. She reaches over for it and closes her eyes in satisfaction once it reaches her mouth.

“Aha- hey, this is my colleague-” Her temporary ecstasy of sweets is interrupted (very much not to her dismay) by a gentle hold on the shoulder. She is gently pulled to her senior’s side, being shown off to his friends as if she were a trophy.

And to be fair, Solar was quite the achievement for any mentor.

Obviously, she can’t shy away from socialisation at a party so she darlingly beams at the bystanders. A minor ‘squeak’ sound escapes her lips when Kou soothingly pats the top of her hair. It was… kind of patronising? But the idol told herself she didn’t mind. “Solar.” He slightly leans down and fully faces her. Right, she’s only wearing her kitten heels which made her at least ten centimetres shorter than him. “Can you get me a drink, please?~”

Goddamn, that sickenly sugar-rotting tone worked wonders on the girl. With an obedient nod, the noirette turned back to the food stand to reach and fetch a cup for the boy. Kou glimpses over to his companions as if to say, “Look what I’m about to do.”

By the time Solar reached over for a cup, the second she blinked she was arched over the table. Her head immersed in a citrus lake. The flavours flowing into her mildly gaped expression. Before she could even begin to process what Kou had done to her, Solar is yanked up from the bowl by the back of her head.

The muffled waves of voices are soon cleared into a plethora of “oooh”, “aaaah”s, giggles and chuckles. Main instigator? Mister Senior himself.

The woman glances at all the faces laughing with her. She hadn’t even noticed that she was awkwardly going along with all their chuckles and laughs. The woman glances over to the boy holding her by the hair. The grip was firm, but it didn’t hurt. So it couldn’t have been malicious.

“Hehe~ Just a joke, Setsuna-chan.”

He didn’t mean it. It was just a joke. It was just for fun. Why couldn’t she take a joke? It was a joke.

She was a joke.

One last strained smile and Solar then pushes through the crowd, simultaneously taking out her phone. No one would notice she left. They’re all too busy laughing, anyway.

Hhromi csn yu pelase pcik me up?? please??

Nevermind. The world doesn’t wait for people like her. The woman’s nosy and over-protective friend would just be more of a burden than an escape. Time doesn’t slow down. Not even a little bit.

Solar holds the ‘backspace’ button on her unsent message as her chest suffocatingly tenses up.

[stylezxsilvermoon]

thinking abt having a big account and having anons n people hyped up for my stuff coming out💔

[bloodblanks]

one umbrella cover two [mr. scarletella x reader] — chapter xiii.

After being separated from Mr. Scarletella, you meet a mysterious entity and find yourself in a perilous predicament.

note: reader is not player (mc).

author’s note: dead dove: do not eat. this fanfiction will contain dark and explicit content, including heavy dub-con, stockholm syndrome, violence, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

The vastness of the corridors stretched out on either side of you. Towering walls the colour of smoke, bland and austere, made up the entirety of your desolate surroundings. Dangling from the ceiling was a singular lightbulb, attached to a fraying cord. Below it stood a man—or rather, a cloaked figure, in his shadowy hand an axe, of which the blade curved into a cruel, sharp point.

The unassuming brown fabric that formed a hood and draped off his silhouette was tattered at its ends. In combination with his figure—an abyssal mass with no distinct features—and the enormous blade he wielded, you could only think he resembled the reaper himself.

Much like your previous encounters where you faced death, you found yourself transfixed by its gaze, your limbs turning to stone with no possibility of movement. All you could do was stare straight ahead, seemingly captivated by your own mortality, as you trembled in fear.

You could feel the palpitations of your heart reverberating through your chest, your mouth dry and palms clammy as the seconds ticked away, the entity getting closer with each everlasting moment.

It stopped just a metre away from you, standing still. At last, it spoke.

“Hello.”

It took you a minute to register what you heard, and then another to process it. A third minute to formulate a response, the single word taking you much longer than it should’ve.

“Hello,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You human?” the hooded figure asked. His voice was deep, gravelly, yet smooth.

“Me human,” you confirmed. Even without standing up, you could tell he was immensely tall, much like Mr. Scarletella and Mr. Silvair. Despite his towering height and the menacing tool he held, he didn’t appear to be hostile so far, which allowed you to relax ever so slightly.

“I see.” He paused, seeming to be observing you. “You know language.”

You nodded. “Correct.”

“You okay?” he asked. You realized then that he had seen you crying on the floor, which was a rather pathetic first impression. You could feel the heat spread through your cheeks as you scrambled to get to your feet, attempting to regain some decency.

“Correct,” you mumbled, forcing an awkward smile. The hooded man stared at you for a moment longer before continuing to walk, passing by you and continuing down the corridor.

“Ah, wait!” you hastily called out, which prompted him to turn his head around to glance at you. “Me need consume liquid. Possible search?”

You remembered clearly the last time you had asked for help to find food, which had resulted in a rather unpleasant surprise of internal organs. You wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Instead, you thought it would be wise to ask for water. Not only were you quicker to die without water, there was also less room for miscommunication and difference in... culture.

The cloaked man was silent for a minute, appearing to consider what you were saying. You hoped that he would assist you at least a bit. You noticed then that you had gotten too comfortable with Mr. Scarletella’s willingness to retrieve whatever you needed—this was ultimately a stranger, a random resident who had no reason to help you. But it wasn’t like you knew how to say please in this language.

“Follow me,” he instructed, before continuing his path down the corridor. You rushed to catch up to him—his strides were much larger than yours—on the verge of jogging, despite him taking a leisurely pace. You found yourself thinking that you missed being carried by Mr. Scarletella. Though you had walked with the crawling man briefly, he was following you, and you were able to walk at your usual pace. This was the first time you had to keep up with one of them, your empty stomach and fatigue making the task more exhaustive than it should’ve been.

After a few more corridors and some flights of stairs, the hooded man stopped in front of a room, opening it to reveal a sink, its faucet dripping with precious water. Your eyes lit up at the sight, and you rushed to turn the device on, letting the water flow into your mouth.

The water had a slightly metallic taste, highly reminiscent of coins. Under any other circumstance, that would be concerning, but the freshness of cool water was so invigorating to your senses that you didn’t care. You greedily gulped down mouthful after mouthful of water, replenishing your parched body before turning off the tap.

“Thank you,” you grinned, wiping the excess water off your face. The hooded man merely nodded in response before turning around to leave.

“Goodbye.” The hooded man opened the door.

Your lips parted to speak, but this time, you refrained. You didn’t want him to depart so soon, but you had no real reason to keep him around, and you were likely bothering him enough already. You sighed, letting your shoulders slump as you watched the door close behind him.

It wasn’t like you expected him to stay, but you couldn’t help wishing he had. Your crying session earlier didn’t seem to be enough, because pitiful laments of your misery were once again collecting in your mind.

You had absolutely no idea where to go now. There was no one to guide you, nor did you even know where you wanted to go besides the exit to this world. The residents you’ve met so far didn’t seem to know how to leave, Mr. Scarletella being the only exception.

Damn the red umbrella man. If he was here with you, none of this would be a problem. You longed for his presence now more than ever; even just knowing he was coming for you would be a relief.

You came to the realization then that he had without fail, found you every single time before, when you tried to escape. This time should be no different—he should be here any second. That conclusion was of some relief to you, temporarily stalling the tears in your eyes that were just starting to sting at the surface.

You took an unsteady inhale before letting out a trembling exhale as you tried to stabilize your breathing. You repeated the process until your breaths were even. You walked over to the door, deciding to leave and look for a more comfortable place to wait for Mr. Scarletella. You knew it’d be smarter to look for the exit, but you wanted nothing to do with these awful rooms anymore; they were too nerve-wracking to deal with.

However, when you put your hand on the doorknob and twisted it, nothing happened. Much to your horror, the knob seemed to be stuck. You could feel condensation beading up on the surface of your skin, your body feeling much too hot and too cold at the same time as you tried opening the door again.

Calm down, you tried to tell yourself, despite your heart furiously beating against your chest, your collected attempts at turning the doorknob replaced with desperate rattling and pulling.

Curses flew from your lips as you slammed your body against the door in panic, knowing it wouldn’t do anything. You didn’t know what else to do.

Calm down and think, you tried to tell yourself, using every ounce of control you had to try to stop yourself from hyperventilating. You closed your eyes, trying to channel your thoughts into something productive rather than incessant panicking.

You heard a click. The sound caused your eyes to snap open, only for you to realize the room was now pitch black.

Any composure you regained was lost as you shrieked, frantically feeling around for the doorknob. Once you had it in your hands, you pulled and tugged and shook it, praying to whatever god was out there that it would open.

When it didn’t, you sobbed hysterically, loud wails leaving your lips. Any rational thoughts had completely disintegrated, leaving only fear in its wake.

“Mr. Scarletella,” you instinctively shouted at the top of your lungs, hoping he was within the vicinity to hear your cries. “Mr. Scarletella!”

Your yelling was met with silence as you sank to the floor in defeat.

—

How?

He couldn’t understand it. He failed to understand how he was separated from you. The realm wasn’t supposed to transform so often; never before had it changed so many times in such a short timeframe. Not only was his world behaving unusually, the sudden, mysterious loss of his abilities—the ones inherent to his existence—was also perplexing.

Not understand. A lot frustrating.

It was bizarre, the way his mind had so effortlessly adapted to the human language already. Almost as if he already knew it. He did, didn’t he?

In a past forgotten; in memories that echoed a life he didn’t know existed. He was once human.

Troubled. Upset.

Strangely enough, he felt a tinge of sadness wash over him—a forlorn longing for his humanity. There was a dull ache in his chest, causing him to reach towards his thorax. Before his fingers touched his chest, he realized that it was no physical injury, but rather an unmended wound in his heart, of which he didn’t know the origins.

But that wasn’t important. What was vital was that he searched for you as quickly as possible, lest you come across any potential harm.

Need find human.

He looked around for any trace of your existence. He didn’t find any. Realizing then that he would have to search for you at random once again, he frowned. The previous times you had gotten lost, it had taken him far longer than he would have liked to locate you. He hoped this time would be different.

He reached for his umbrella, coming to the sudden, halting realization that it was not near him. He wasn’t holding it, nor was it anywhere in the general vicinity. The room he was in was completely empty; there were no boxes or furniture that his umbrella could be hidden under.

Gone.

He never thought of his blood as particularly warm before, but at that moment, the fluid that ran through his veins had never been colder; he wondered how it hadn’t frozen over. An unprecedented chill permeated his bones, his pulse seemingly coming to a still.

In the midst of the bleak and vacant room, he stood, inanimate. His hands felt terribly clammy, droplets of sweat beginning to bead at the back of his neck, clinging to his undead skin.

A feeling of disorientation washed over him, overwhelming lightheadedness causing him to bring one of his hands to the wall in order to steady himself.

He wasn’t sure of the exact reason, but he was certain of one thing—this umbrella was of irrevocable significance. Dread settled in the pits of his stomach as he tried to process what had happened.

Umbrella disappear. Me lose umbrella.

He never put too much thought into why he had an umbrella. The umbrella was always with him; he had it since the very beginning. He didn’t remember a time before the umbrella existed. He most definitely didn’t want to imagine a time after.

He had been asked once about his umbrella, and he had briefly contemplated the reasoning behind this permanent object. He hadn’t come to any informative conclusions, save for that the umbrella was important, and its significance extended beyond him. He didn’t know anything beyond that.

Umbrella gone. Human gone.

Despite the lack of information or reasoning, he firmly held onto his umbrella. For an instant, he had let go of it in order to take you into his arms, but he had failed at keeping you by his side, and now the umbrella was gone, too.

Troubled.

He didn’t recall experiencing this before, but he recognized the sensation immediately as nausea stirred in his stomach, his guts and intestines twisting into knots.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he tried to fight off the overwhelming sensation of the room spinning beneath his very feet. This was no time to lament the loss of his umbrella. As important as it was, his priority was still to find you.

There was a chance that his umbrella could be with you, too. At the thought of locating his umbrella again, the room appeared to stabilize ever so slightly, allowing him to take his hand off the wall, regaining his footing.

Me search human. Need fast find.

He took a second longer to make sure his balance wasn’t compromised before stepping through the space. Much to his dismay, his abilities had not recovered, and his movements were still slow.

He would put aside his vexations for now. Finding you was of utmost priority; he could investigate the problem he was experiencing at a later time.

Me worry.

With each room he stepped through and searched, only to find that you weren’t there, his anxiety increased. His umbrella was also nowhere to be seen—he had kept an eye out for it, too. In contrast to its inanimate state from before, the organ in his chest was now pulsing at full force, pounding against his ribcage as if it had grown tiny hands and feet. The thrashing of his heart became faster and faster as he continued failing to locate you, worries beginning to trickle into his head.

Body tired. Troubled. A lot troubled.

His body—the stupid, useless thing he was stuck in—began to tire after he had searched a significant number of rooms. Never before had he experienced such fatigue, his muscles seeming to protest his every action. He did his best to ignore the feeling and press on, but the worries in his head started to consume his mind, gnawing and tugging at his brain with their vicious teeth.

Possible danger human?

He couldn’t help but begin to fret that something had happened to you, the very thought alone causing a visceral feeling of dread. But the longer he went without a trace of you, the more he started to consider the possibility of it occurring. His heart was slamming against the confines of his chest in a harrowing, haphazard rhythm, his stomach tossing itself around to the same beat.

He came to a still, cold, quivering hands pressing against the equally stony wall.

Human gone? It couldn’t be true, right?

As his mind wobbled down in a spiral, he heard a muffled sound, which instantly drew his attention. His eyes snapped wide open, his head frantically whipping around in search of the sound, but not seeing where it could’ve come from.

A moment later, he heard the terrified cry of a voice he instantly knew belonged to you.

“Mr. Scarletella!” 

next chapter ->

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[jillsandwhichs]

Our Future Days

Joel Miller x Reader series, Chapter 11, Ellie

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You finally meet Ellie whilst waiting for Maria at the Tipsy Bison and when telling Joel about it, he becomes rather surprised with how the two of you hit it off

WC: 2.6k

Type: SFW

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

You have officially settled into Joel's place. It took you a few days to feel as comfortable as you are now but you've reached that feeling - one you need to feel when you're living somewhere. You've been staying down in the living room but Joel is working on a spare bedroom for you to use until further notice. It's nice and all but it's still very surreal. You're still in the midst of accepting everything.

Joel is currently upstairs, most likely still asleep. It's dawn. Outside it is faintly bright and you know just about everyone is still resting and, understandably so. Once you feel others are up, you'll head out. You're supposed to meet Maria for breakfast to discuss patrol schedules so you're looking forward to that. You feel more comfortable not only with Joel, but at Jackson too. You've even found yourself talking with new people and occasionally going on walks throughout the day.

Although one thing you have been struggling with is sleeping. It's difficult. You toss and turn most nights and often find yourself in situations such as these; Awakening early in the morning and struggling to go back to sleep. It's not a big deal, it keeps you on your feet. Though, you'd kill for some real sleep once in awhile. Maybe once you're in a real bed it'll get better - you hope at least.

You shook the initial thoughts from your head and stood up, stretching out your arms and back and ambling over towards the kitchen. Your throat feels dry and you need a drink. After this, you'll most likely relax until it's time to head out to meet Maria. You hope everything goes well. She's already told you that no patrols are done alone and that you'll most likely always have noon shifts since the rest are all taken up.

As long as you're able to work and help protect this place, you're happy. They took you in and you'll always need to repay them. You just hope this place, Jackson, doesn't go to shit like the others you've been to have. It's like you are cursed and have the touch of disaster. So far however, everything has been running smoothly - you hope it remains that way.

You poured the ice cold water into the small mug and drank all of it as if you were taking a shot. You felt the smooth, cold liquid silky slip down your throat and into your stomach. It felt good. You needed that. Recently, you've been dealing with a sore throat & cotton mouth so it's safe to say you're most likely getting a cold but, you also blame it on your anxieties. Being in a new place is never entirely easy and you've been dealing with jitters. Although with each new day, you feel better and more at home.

Setting down the cup, you let out a loud and long sigh before leaving the kitchen and back out to the living room. You tucked the couch bed back into the couch before sitting down on it, contemplating the day you have ahead of you. After you meet with Maria and the two of you discuss things, you pretty much have the day to yourself. Hopefully nothing too crazy goes down. You do know Joel plans to make the two of you a dinner so that should be plenty good.

Until you have to meet up with her, you suppose you'll read or simply relax. It's about time you've had some alone time like this to think about your life.

-

You started walking to the Tipsy Bison about three minutes ago. You decided to head out due to seeing people out and about so it's safe to think Maria may be amongst those individuals. Joel wasn't awake when you left so you assume by the time you get back, he will be. That's a good thing though, you're excited to speak with him and see what he's up to today.

Things have been a bit awkward between the two of you. Just as you imagined, he didn't thoroughly think out the process of you living with him. Nothing has necessarily went wrong but it just feels different, that's all. The two of you went from once upon a time being neighbors to this, being practically roommates. It has it's pros and cons overall. Joel has been exceptionally kind and full of hospitality. You don't know how you'll ever be able to repay him.

Entering the bar/diner, you kicked the wet snow off of your black combat boots and proceeded to fully enter the establishment. It smelt good already and it only opened a little bit ago. It was full, but not as it usually is. Surprisingly, you could make way without having to mutter "Excuse me." Or "I'm just going to squeeze right on by you." And that saved you some hefty anxiety.

However, you realized Maria isn't even here yet. You should've thought further ahead because in reality, she probably just woke up. It's understandable. There's no point in heading back home, you mind aswell stay here until she arrives.

You took a seat in the back corner and heaved. You pulled your hair out of it's low ponytail before running your fingers through it. You haven't had such clean hair in so long, it is very refreshing. Looking around the Tipsy Bison, you didn't see any familiar faces - you really have some socializing to do. You can't just be a stranger to everyone forever. You looked straight ahead of you and sitting on the floor in the corner with a book in her hand was Ellie.

You and Ellie haven't formally met yet. The two of you are aware of each other but due to never being around one another, you haven't had the chance to introduce yourself. She must be important - she is to Joel, that's for sure. You find it rather precious and special than Joel practically took her in as his own. You can appreciate that. Despite the hurt and anguish Joel endured losing little Sarah, he managed to pull through and eventually find a young soul who he can vicariously accept as his own.

Of course, Ellie and Sarah are two different girls and you're sure Joel knows and accepts that.

You stood up and traversed over to where the young girl was sitting. You stood over her, hovering casually. She glanced up and closed her comic. "Can I help you?" She said in a rather puzzled tone. You giggled and shook your head no. "No, I'm sorry. That was a bit creepy, huh? No, I just wanted to introduce myself to you since I've heard so much of you." You said kindly. Ellie nodded and held her hand out. You shook it quickly before sitting down. "No need for formalities." You chuckled.

Ellie snickered. "You get it, I don't like it either." She set up and set her book to the side. "Whatcha reading?" You decided to ask her in order to keep the conversation flowing. "Savage Starlight." "Oh," you said with a smile, glancing at the colorful, small comic. "That sounds interesting. Its cool that you managed to find the fourth in the series, do you have the others?" "I do. I mainly found them when me and Joel were coming here." "Lucky finds them, huh?" "For sure." Ellie nodded.

This kid doesn't seem so bad. You can picture yourself getting along with her quite well.

"Can I ask you a question?" Ellie said in a low voice, facing you entirely now. "Shoot." "Are you living with Joel? Like, in his house?" Oh... You wanted to run away from that question, only because it was coming from her. You snorted and nodded, trying to come off as casual and not bothered. "Yeah, I am. Just until I can get on my feet, that is." "Oh, that makes sense. It's just that Joel isn't really that type, you know? I think it's nice though... Nice of him." Ellie stated.

Not that type, hm? So he made an exception for you. How sweet; You could blush and smirk at the thought.

"What about you? Where are you living?" "The garage in Joel's yard. It's actually sick! They set up a heating system for me and I've been decorating it little by little. Joel said I should've just lived in the house with him but admittedly, I wanted to feel like I had my own place." To you, that's absolutely adorable and totally cool. "Well, look at you! That's great. I'd be the same way and hopefully, I will get my own place." You smiled at Ellie and she half smiled back at you.

"Actually... I should've mentioned this sooner but Joel mentioned you to me while we were coming here, you know?" "He did!?" This took you by immense suprise. You truly thought he had forgotten about you. You're glad you have been wrong all this time. "I had asked him once about how his life was before all of this and he mentioned you a few times. He would talk about you having a cute dog and how the two of you were neighbors. Honestly, with the way he talked of you, I thought you two were dating." Dating!? Okay, this is getting out of hand.

You laughed and nodded. You tried to seem content overall but hearing that Joel spoke of you in such a manner warmed your heart and oddly enough, made you feel a way you don't believe you've ever even felt before. "That is funny. But yeah, it's true, we were neighbors and I did have a really cute dog. Becker was his name and he was the most precious thing ever." "Is he dead?" Ellie asked bluntly. "Sadly, yep. Died a few Winters back. I miss him." "I bet... I've only seen a few dogs in my lifetime."

Hearing that sentence was so weird to you. You forget she was born during all of this. That is insanely depressing to you. If you were born during all of this, you'd be sad. To experience the life you had before was beautiful and everyone, literally every person took it for granted due to not knowing what was to come. At least Ellie seems fine with all of this... Which is odd to you...

"I'm sure you'll see more along with plenty more animals in your lifetime. How old are you?" "Fourteen. You?" You snickered at her question. No filter on this kiddo. "Fourty three." "Wow! Joel is older than you. He's old, he's like a dinosaur." You laughed at her comment and nodded. "That he is."

You heard the front door of the bar/diner open and you poked your head out, hoping to see someone you know and luckily, Maria was there. She looked tired so it was for sure that she had just woken up. You looked back down at Ellie before standing up. "Maria is here and I have to speak with her but I'll see you around, yeah?" "Okay." Ellie nodded before picking her comic back up and resuming her reading session.

Hands in your pockets, you ambled over to Maria and look of relief washed over her. "So glad you're here, I don't have much time." "Oh? Is everything okay?" "Yes! I just have to help Tommy today so I just want to finish this up." "Sure thing." You understood. You followed Maria to the bar and sat down beside her. She ordered both of you hot chocolates before speaking up specifically to you.

"You will have patrols every three days so basically twice a week. You will primarily stick to the trails and the inner woodsy areas." She stated. Makes sense. That seems good enough for you. "On patrols, we either stay in pairs or groups and for you, it seems you'll primarily be in a pair which makes things easier for me but less for you." She snorted before grabbing her hot chocolate with a smile and sliding yours down to you.

"Two days from now, so after tomorrow, I'll be having you and Joel go out on a patrol together in the woods. It'll be a simple quick one, I'll just have you two scope out the area and you'll be right back. Weapons and a horse will be provided to you, of course." That's a lot to intake. So after tomorrow is your first patrol and luckily, it's with Joel and you will be in the inner woods. Got it... You think.

You gave Maria a nod and sipped your warm drink. "Seems simple enough... Is that all?" "Almost. May I ask a huge favor of you?" Maria questioned you. That nerved you. "Go ahead." "Next week we're hosting a get together because we've finally reached our goal of people in Jackson and I'll need help setting everything up. Would you be willing to provide a hand?" Not a big favor at all. This works for you. "Of course, anything you need, I'll be there." Maria nodded with a smile. "Amazing to hear that, thanks."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment before you officially broke it. "I don't want to hassle you much longer so go on ahead with Tommy. I'll finish this then let Joel know about our upcoming patrol." "You sure? Did you have any questions?" "None at all and yes, I'm sure. Go on ahead!" You reassured her. "Okay." Maria stood up and waved goodbye to you. "I'll see you around! Don't forget to tell Joel." She said before quickly leaving the Tipsy Bison.

Every two weeks, noon shifts, pairs or groups and in two days with Joel. Everything is seemingly working out.

-

Closing the front door behind you, you heard the sound of Joel coming down the stairs as he realized you were back. You turned into the doorway and smiled when seeing him. "Hey." "Hi." Joel replied, walking up to you and removing your jacket and hanging it up. You took off your boots near the front door and chuckled. "It is freezing outside." "I bet." Joel snorted and crossed his arms, looking at you. The two of you haven't had a chance to speak yet.

"Before I forget, Maria wanted me to let you know we have patrol the day after tomorrow." "Me and you do?" "Yep. She said in the inner woods around noon so mid sun rise." "Alrighty then." Joel nodded and leaned against the counter. You remembered to also let him know you finally spoke to Ellie.

"Me and Ellie hit it off really well." "Oh? The two of yous talked?" "We did and she's a great kid." Joel chuckled at your claim and nodded. "She can be a real ass sometimes but yeah, she is." You giggled at his comment. Such a fatherly thing to say. You removed your gloves and stuffed them into your pockets. "She asks a lot of questions." "She really does." Joel laughed aloud and took another bite from his toast.

"Overall though, I like her. She's a seemingly good kid." "Yeah."

The tension is still there. Awkwardness - it is unavoidable. You chuckled to clear the silence and Joel spoke up. "I better get going." "Where are you off to?" "Tommy and Maria needed my help with somethin' so I'll be doin' that for God knows how long." Joel responded with a scoff. "Ah, okay." You leaned against the open, white door frame. You looked him up and down before settling on your feet. The last thing you want to do right now is make eye contact with him.

"I'm still goin' to make us that dinner tonight, alright?" "Sounds good." "Good. I'll be back soon. Be good." He teased as he walked past you. You giggled and shook your head playfully. "I'll be as mischievous as can be." You winked and opened the front door for him. "Bye." "Bye Joel, see you later."

Alone time.

For what it's worth, you'll be all alone with him two days from now.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Let Us Teach You - Chapter Six

Click Here For Story Masterlist

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Description:

"Okay daddy, I trust you" I say. "What will you show me?"

"We'll start with something small, is that okay doll?" I nod to him, wanting him to know I said yes. Steve smiles at me, taking a deep breath, he swallows hard before speaking again.

"Lie back on the bed doll"

(Bucky and Steve have a daughter, and they teach her about sex)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1,942

P.s... This fic is not for everyone, it has incest. That is not a thing everyone likes reading, so if you don't like reading stuff like that, this isn't the fic for you. I'm no condoning any of this, this isn't real life, this is fanfiction :)

Time flew, school was done, and it was finally the weekend of Uncle Tony's party, I loved dressing fancy, Auntie Nat had helped me pick out a wonderful dress, since both my dads were useless when he came to fashion. It was a long dress that showed my back completely, it was a dark green and I loved it so much. I felt like a princess. I put on a pair of simple black heels feeling as if the dress didn't need super fancy shoes with it. I left my room to find my dads waiting by the door dressed in their suits. 

"What do you think?" I ask, spinning for them. 

"Doll... you... you look... beautiful... so beautiful..." Bucky spoke. 

"You think so?" I beamed, stepping closer to hug him. 

"Yeah doll... you... you look so beautiful... we're going to have a hard time keeping our eyes off you..." Steve spoke, joining our hug. They both chuckled and pressed a kiss to my lips. 

"Promise me, you'll both dance with at least once?" I asked, mostly looking at Bucky, Steve would dance with me, without a doubt, Bucky however hated dancing. 

They agreed to dance with me and we left the house, Tony had arranged a car to take us to the party, the three of us scooted into the car, it definitely was not a car big enough for two super soldiers so I was squished between the both of them, not that I minded. 

"I'm so excited" I admitted. "Do you think I'd be allowed one alcoholic drink when we get there?"

I thought they would say no, but to my surprise they said I could, but only one, with their supervision, which was understandable. Finally the car reached the Avengers compound, we walked in together, and Steve made a beeline to Tony, and started chatting away with him, Bucky made a few comments, but this was more Steve's scene. 

"Who wants to dance first?" I ask as a slower song started playing, I waited for both Bucky and Steve to look at one another and then to me, Steve, unsurprisingly took my hand first and led me to the dance floor, there were loads of others dancing, I barely recognise any of them. Wanda and Vision were dancing though, I smiled, I loved them. The song was slow and smooth and when I wrapped my arms around Steve's neck, his instinctively wrapped around my waist, holding me close to him, but not pressing against my body. I rested my head on his chest letting him lead me through the music. 

"You look so beautiful doll" He whispers in my ear. 

"Thank you daddy" I whisper back. 

Once the song had ended we stopped dancing and headed towards Bucky, who was sitting by the bar, along with Sam. "Do you think I could try my first alcoholic drink please?" I asked Steve. He nodded yes. 

"Hi Sam!" I grinned, he greeted me with a light hug. "What drink should I get, I don't know anything about what I like"

"Dad, what do you drink?" I ask Bucky seeing he had a glass of light brown liquid. 

"I drink whiskey darling, I don't think you'll like that" He chuckles. 

"Oh okay"

"I think you should try a Vodka Cranberry, it's sweet and you don't really taste the alcohol, it's the perfect first drink" He explains, ordering me the drink, once made I took it from him and gave it a sip. Both my dads and Sam watched me take a ip, watching to see if I liked it or not. 

"I really like it" I giggle happily. 

I sipped happily as my dads spoke to various people at the party, Finally another slow song came on, so I downed the rest of my drink and took Bucky's hand. "Your turn"

He looked a little stressed, but that was because he didn't think he could dance, he did a good job, I thought. He wrapped his arms around my similarly to how Steve did, and danced with me. 

"The only girl I'd dance with" He whispers, chuckling. 

"I wish I could kiss you right no" I whisper, wanting nothing more than a cute dance that ended with a kiss, Bucky looked at me with a sad smile. 

"I know doll, I wish I could kiss you too" He said as he spun me around, I giggled feeling as if the alcohol had made me a little tipsy. "You look so beautiful in that dress darling"

"Are you going to touch me in my dress later daddy?" I ask incredibly quiet, Bucky's movements stopped for a second and he choked a little on air, I giggled. 

"Doll, you really shouldn't be talking like that, not here" He spoke, his voice a little stern. 

"I'm sorry, I just like it so much" My stomach fluttering as I think of the feeling. 

"No need to be sorry doll... just don't say things like that out loud when there are people around..."

"I'm sorry, I'll behave" I frown a little as the song ended, Bucky and I walked back over to Steve and I finally spotted Peter standing alone elsewhere. I waved to him and told my dads where I was going as I walked away, I reached Peter and we hugged, and started talking about how cool it was to be at a party like this. 

"Your dress is lovely little one" I turned around to see Loki smiling at me, I thanked him and carried on chatting to Peter, Loki stayed and chatted with us, it was nice, he never really spoke to anyone, and I knew my dads didn't like him, but I liked him, he was nice. I looked back to my dads and saw that they looked pissed, worried, I said goodbye to Peter and Loki and walked over to them. 

"Loki said my dress is lovely!" I beamed. 

"Is that so doll?" Steve asked, not matching my smile. 

"Yeah!" I grinned "He's very nice"

"Really?" Bucky asked, his face looked angier than Steve's. "You think he's nice?"

"Yeah I think so" I say quietly. 

They let it go when a few more people came to chat with them, I stayed with them talking with some people, soon the party died down and my dads decided they wanted to go home, it took forever to go home, because they had to say goodbye to so many people, and by that I mean Steve did. Bucky said goodbye to Sam and that was it. 

"Are you ready to go doll?" Steve asked saying his last goodbye and turning to Bucky and myself. We left, leaving in the same car as before and when we got home Bucky carried me into the house.

"Tonight was the best" I smiled as Bucky sat me down on the bed. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself doll" He grinned, he started taking his suit off, I left my dress on, not wanting to be without it just yet, I felt so pretty. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course doll, you can ask me anything" He grinned, he breathed out a happy sigh when he was finally down to his boxers, obviously not liking suits. 

"What else do you and daddy have to teach me?" I ask, smiling brightly up at him. Steve entered the room already in boxers as I spoke, he smirked at me and crawled into bed, sitting behind me. 

"You really wanna learn more?" He asked, and I nodded, looking at them both hopeful. They were both smiling at me as I stood up and undid my dress, I let it pool at my feet, leaving my in just my panties. The dress would of been ruined if I wore a bra, so I went without one. I usually did anyways. 

"God you're so beautiful" Bucky groaned. "Come here" I followed his order and crawled up the bed laying next to him, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, my stomach twisted with excitement and desire, as I kissed him I felt his metal hand move up to my chest, he rubbed my nipples gently, pinching them every so often, each time he did I moaned a little into his mouth. When I moaned Bucky slowly moved his tongue to lick my lips and my tongue, tasting me. Steve's hands were finally on my body, running up and down my thighs, his lips kissing and nipping my hips. 

His hands moved to my hips and under my bum, he lifted me slightly, I was confused to what he was doing, but then his lips came down to my panties and he started kissing me through them, I moaned again, sounding filthy. 

Bucky kept kissing me, but he broke away for a moment to let me moan again, as I gasped for air Bucky smiled and spoke in a soft, slightly breathless tone

"How does that feel doll?..."

"Feels really good daddy" I whispered against Bucky's lips.

"That's a good girl, keep letting us know how you feel" He mumbled back before pressing his lips to mine again, he kissed my roughly, his fingers swapping from each nipple, pinching and rubbing them. Steve's hands moved to the top of my underwear and he slowly peeled them off me, my underwear matched my dress perfectly, they were silky and green. 

Bucky kissed me, his tongue now tracing my lips, exploring my mouth, taking in my taste, his hands were cupping my breasts, holding them tight. It hurt a little but it felt good. Steve kissed everywhere, my thighs, my hips, and then finally he kissed me down there, first at the top, he then used his hands to spread my legs further apart. He kissed lower, near my hole, he then moved up and licked a long stripe along me, my hips jolted up bumping into his face and I whined loudly against Bucky's lips. Steve's hands came to hold down on my hips, keeping me in place. 

Bucky's lips left mine, I opened my eyes to see he had moved to watch Steve lick me, I couldn't see his tongue, his face was covered by me... His eyes were shut and he was moaning as he moved his mouth again me. I was a moaning mess, I didn't care, I was being so loud, Bucky's hand was still on my chest his eyes on Steve. They both looked like they were loving every every second of this, watching me, feeling me come undone. Steve sucked at top, his hand moving down to insert two fingers into me, I sounded wet. 

I moaned loudly, feeling that feeling in my tummy again.

"Daddy gonna..." I start to say as the feeling takes over my body completely, letting me finish over Steve's tongue, my breathing was so heavy, I held onto Bucky feeling as I might fall, obviously I wouldn't, but the feeling that washed over me was so strong, my vision went fuzzy for a second. Steve  slowly stopped licking me, he kissed from my hole up, kissing all the way until he met my lips, kissing me quickly. 

"How was that princess?"

"Amazing daddy, I think it might be my new favourite thing" I whispered panting heavily. 

"I'm glad you liked it doll, we're gonna teach you more things like that.."Steve smiled brightly at me, he moved to laid on my other side, both him and Bucky close to me. 

"I can't wait" I mumbled, sleep taking over my body, I feel both of them press a soft kiss to my head.

[perpetualdaydreamerr]

Upon the Eternal Shore: An EPIC the Musical Fanfiction (Chapter 12)

Snippets of the 7 years Odysseus spent with Calypso.

---

CONTENT WARNING: heavily implied r*pe, non-con, victim-blaming, emotional abuse, PTSD, descriptions of violence. Please consider before reading.

---

Days 2,199-2,224

The raft had afforded Odysseus many pleasant afternoons out on the water. In some contortion of reality, he had convinced himself that the water wasn't really Ogygia. He'd finally gained some semblance of distance from the island sailing around its shallows.

He'd gotten particularly good at using the homemade sails. Although there wasn't ever very much wind to catch, he could now efficiently direct the gusts to push him along in whatever direction he pleased. His raft was far more cooperative than he had expected. He was free to sail- only hindered by the invisible barrier that surrounded the island. One that held still like impossibly thick glass.

Today though, he didn't care for sailing. He merely sat on the wooden planks, feeling the gentle caress of the sun against his shoulders. The rock of the raft, like an infant’s cradle. Gentle and smooth, rolling over every passing wave gently.

A cradle. A rocking cradle.

He closed his eyes, opened them again. He was in Troy, standing before the cradle of a baby no larger than his helmet. Little and innocent, with big brown eyes that caught the blaze of the torches.

He felt a familiar shake enter his hands.

A baby, cursed to die in a cruel test of the gods. Willed to suffer for no true reason. He remembered the screams, the agonizing screams of the women in Troy. One of them might've been his mother. Did the woman who nursed him watch his fall? Odysseus hadn't watched. He'd only heard. He couldn't stop hearing, the wail of the child, the sudden stop. The cries, the smell of the smoke, all of it was back, rushing over him like a hurricane, suffocating.

“Odysseus?”

The boy had trusted him at first. The child had met him with an open eyed look of wonder when he took him in his arms. No older than Telemachus had been, precious in his innocence. The infant didn't know about war, or the gods, or suffering, or death. He could still hear the screams.

“Odysseus, breathe, my love.”

Someone was talking to him. Their voice was distorted, as if extended and muffled. He couldn't think, could hardly comprehend it.

Helen the beauty had been saved, but how many women suffered the brunt of their army? How many other infants had died? Not just one, surely not just one. Infants and women, strewn about the city like debris. He could taste the ash.

“Odysseus, hold on-”

There was water on his face. He shook, and was immediately forced back into the present. He looked around wildly, searching in terror for the torches, for the soldiers. He saw neither, his eyes instead falling on the woman now sitting beside him. Calypso, with concern and confusion knit into her eyebrows. She held a cup of water, presumably what now ran down the sides of his hair.

“Shh,” she murmured, running her hand across his back gently. “You were only dreaming. You're alright, my darling.”

“I wasn't… dreaming,” he managed, his chest still heaving. “It just-” he couldn't explain himself, couldn't force his madness into words. He put his hands onto his face, digging his nails into the aged skin. The pain was something real, something he could ground himself to.

“Shh, my dear… drink this,” the nymph’s delicate words found his ear. She took one of his hands in her’s and moved it aside.

He looked at her, some part of him desperate to find a reprieve. Was that true concern on her face? Was it another mockery? He chose to believe the former, couldn't digest the latter in his current state. His head nodded almost urgently and he took the cup being offered. It was warm to the touch, smelt like citrus and herbs. His hands trembled, nearly spilling the liquid inside.

She put her hands over his’ and steadied them. Together, they guided the cup to his lips. The smooth tea slid down his ragged throat. As it poured, he managed to feel his nerves reel back. He was here, in the present. Troy was but a distant memory. The tea was rich and fragrant. Her hands were soft.

He finished it. “It follows me everywhere,” he whispered. His eyes traced the lines of the wood. “Troy. The war. The boy. The soldiers. All of it. I've lived it a thousand times over, and I'll live it a thousand more,” His head shifted up again. She was staring at him, an inexplicable expression on her face.

Calypso’s gaze lingered on him, long and heavy. She was deliberating something, though he couldn't predict what. Perhaps a goddess couldn't comprehend the madness of war and time. He wasn't sure what he wanted, couldn't strategize a solution to the constant suffering conjured by his own mind. It never ended, never ceased, and there was no tea that would take it away forever.

Calypso didn't speak. She gave no rebuttal to his declaration. She merely opened her arms. A silent offer, warm and free.

A long blink cut through his vision. Odysseus leaned towards her. He sunk into her arms. He began to weep. The goddess listened.

-

Odysseus had found it increasingly difficult to find things to distract himself with. Now that the raft was finished, the only things he truly spent much time on were his figurines and practicing with his bow. It was hardly enough to keep him sane. On some occasions, he would look up at the slowly darkening sky and realize that an entire day had been spent giving Circe nymphs to spend time with or adding sheep to the cyclop’s lair. He'd already manifested dozens of soldiers, people from his childhood. His collection was extensive, increasingly requiring more and more space to display.

At the very least, his figurines required more tools. Tools that had to be made, knives that had to be fashioned. Projects that ate away time and gave his hands something to do.

He was fashioning yet another soldier when she approached. This one had long hair, held back with twine. He was called Diagoras, and he was pinning for a pretty young woman back home. He carried a lock of her hair in a small amulet around his neck. His voice was deep, deeper than it should've been for his age. Odysseus couldn't quite recall if the boy had been real.

“I've made this for you,” Calypso stated, kneeling down beside him. She cast a look at the dozens of figurines around them, before holding forth an item that had been held behind her back.

It was a leather belt equipped with several long, sturdy pockets. An adjustable golden hook kept it latched. It was the sort of thing a sophisticated artisan would have, practical, yet beautiful to look at.

He took it in his hands and examined it. It would be helpful for various tasks. He could carry his tools more efficiently, keep his supplies with him at all times. His eyes darted up to her in anticipation. “It's very nice,” he said, carefully fixating on her features. He'd learned to read her well over the course of their time together. He could tell when something lingered in the back of her gaze. It wasn't wise to accept the gift without knowing its cost.

“I thought it would be helpful,” Calypso mused, holding her hands together in front of herself. She smiled pleasantly. It reached her eyes.

He exhaled. “It will be. Thank you.” He stood up, wrapped it around his waist and clasped it. It fit perfectly well.

“And if you need tools, supplies, or anything at all for it-”

“All I have to do is ask,” Odysseus completed. The rules of the island had been well established. He could have anything, anything at all, except for the only thing he wanted.

-

The air smelt like roasted garlic and onions. A fresh mixture of herbs, mixed with the comforting, earthy smell of lentils. At first, he couldn't believe it.

It took him back to so many years ago. To the shores of Ithaca, after a long day of training. The scent that would capture the air of their home and leave him famished. Lentil stew.

“Is that…?” He asked, approaching the pot with widened eyes. As suspected, the pot was brimming with the dish.

“Lentil soup!” Calypso concluded, her face bright. “How's it smell?”

“Absolutely wonderful,” he admitted honestly, unable to control the emotion on his face. “We used to eat that when I was a boy- how did you-” he shook his head, remembrance captivating him. A week before, the nymph had asked him a string of questions that he hadn't understood at the time. Questions about his life before. What foods he had enjoyed, what he used to do for fun, his favorite parts about Ithaca. He saw the fruit of the discussion now, aromic in the pot.

The goddess took a bowl in her hand and spooned a generous portion into it. “You'll have to tell me if I got it right,” she teased, handing it over to him enthusiastically.

Odysseus took the bowl and sat down, brimming with anticipation. It smelt like home. He took his spoon, blew off the steam, and put it to his lips.

It was hot, all of the ingredients particularly fresh and rich in taste. The goddess was a fine cook, and this was one of her best.

But it wasn't entirely right. The garlic was too strong, the lentils too few. It wasn't precisely like what he remembered. He turned his spoon around in it, trying to decipher whether it was better or worse. Regardless, it was-

“Delicious. Thank you, Calypso,” he remarked genuinely.

-

“I have another gift for you. This one is really special,” she'd told him. Her gifts had become frequent once more, similar to his first year on Ogygia. Whatever this was must've been particularly special, as the nymph was practicing overflowing with excitement.

He hadn't particularly wanted to leave his figurines. He had just started on his old ship. An especially difficult endeavor, given just how fragile the wood could be. Even still, it was nice in some degree to take a break from the work. To go and see whatever gift necessitated a trip across the island.

She led him back towards the palace. At first, a brew of uneasiness had captured him. He absolutely loathed the cascading marble- that was something that hadn't changed in the slightest in the years he'd spent on the island. “I've spent months working on this, my darling,” was what she said that eased him to some degree. It was something tangible. An item. He'd followed along, the slightest bit of curiosity taking the place of his previous anxiety.

She led him down the entryway corridor and to the right. It was a door he'd only opened a few times before. A private dwelling place of her’s, where she presumably spent time working on crafts and other hobbies.

The moment she opened the door, he saw it. Her gift.

It was a woven tapestry. Taller than he was, longer than the side of his raft. It took up a great portion of the opposite wall. The thread shimmered in the sun that poured in from the windows, and he had to squint to make out the details at first. They approached together, and he was able to take in its depiction.

On the top left, a child ran across a vast shore. A boy with dark hair and a beaming grin. He was brimming with childlike enthusiasm, kicking up the sand behind him. Beside him, the same boy, but a bit older, throwing a javelin through the air. To his right, the boy engaged in a wrestling match, successfully pinning his opponent to the ground. The tapestry was woven with such mastery that he could almost see the grin on the child’s face growing at his victory.

“Do you know who it is?”

His eyes continued down, traveling through the story. Next, the young boy, now a young man, was studying books- poetry and statecraft. Expectation had met his face. Responsibility was now etched into his eyes. He had facial hair, wore the clothing of nobility.

“It's… me,” he whispered. He reached forward, touched the cloth. His likeness studied the book in his hands. Younger, less torn by age.

The next depiction was of a wedding. His form beside a woman cloaked in yellow, her face not visible. Penelope. He stared longer than he had at any other scene yet, gazing at her depiction, as though staring would lift the veil, would allow him to see her. She hadn't worn yellow on that day. He could still see the red fabric cascading like fire down her back. His bride, alive like a flame- mellowed here, hidden.

“Do you like it?”

He eventually tore himself away, continued on. To the immediate left, his likeness holding a bundle of blankets. Telemachus, only his dark hair exposed, wrapped in swaddling cloth. He felt the breath leave his lungs. His son. His darling, infant son. He could still feel the gentle weight in his arms, the impossible lightness of the most beautiful gift Penelope had ever given him.

He forced himself to move on after a small eternity had passed. To the side, a large vessel, with himself standing at the mast, sword in hand. Soldiers surrounded him. And then Troy, with the horse, and the fire. The flames flickered in the light, captured the city in a hellish hue.

The cyclops stood beside it, and Circe, and a depiction of the underworld. His story, laid out for him in vibrant thread. He was left without words, unable to vocalize all that he felt. It was like his figurines all over again. A physical, tangible expression of all that had happened. Cathartic, overwhelming relief.

Scylla was next. The goddess had utilized every detail he'd ever told her. Her hollow, black eyes, her mocking smile. He could see her move, could see her approach their ship.

And then the ship again, now outside her lair. He was holding a sword, fighting another soldier. Eurylochus. And then the moment he was stabbed in the back, and then the cows. Zeus.

And then, the island. She made it larger than Scylla, glimmering and idyllic. Its trees impossibly green, the water still and crystal-like. He was washed up on the beach, Calypso knelt beside him. His stomach twisted. The next scene, the pair of them, standing side by side on the island. Twin smiles on their faces, birds flying behind them, everything perfect and alight.

And then the last depiction. It was Ogygia, still Ogygia, with a rainbow cast over it. An impossible rainbow. There wasn't ever any rain. Calypso and Odysseus stood together, hand in hand.

The tapestry ended. He looked over it again, trying to find something he'd missed. It was his entire life story depicted in thread- a complete rendition, and this was its ending.

“Do you like it?”

Odysseus felt his jaw clench. There was no more room for anything else to be added. It was a perfect rectangle, perfectly planned. This was its corner, its conclusion. Ogygia. Calypso. The end of his story.

Because of her.

“I made it just for you, Ody.”

The white sand beaches, spilling into eternity. The rest of his life, the coast of the island. The same waves. The same birds, the same damn sky.

“Don't you love it?”

Because of her.

Rage, scalding and vicious, unlike how he'd ever experienced it before wrapped itself around his body. Gripped his fists, made them clench- manifested in his chest, forced it to heave. So many years had been spent wasted in sunken misery. His eyes darted back up to her portrayals of his family. His boy was a young man now, his childhood shed in his father’s absence. The veil of orange, hiding his wife’s precious face. The veil of time, and distance, and the spell of a goddess, separating them. His wife, a weaver herself, perhaps married to another, perhaps beside herself with grief.

Because of her.

“Ody?”

He lunged towards her, all at once, the crazed madness of ire possessing him. His hands were around her shoulders before he could tell what he was doing. Then they fell, together, collided into the marble floor. He was atop her, murderous, vicious.

His right hand took the knife on the belt, the tool belt she'd made him, the gift, the mockery of a gift.

She was staring up at him, wide eyes filled with horror, not comprehending what was happening. Eyes full of pride, and lust, and insatiable greed.

He drove the blade into her neck. All of the strength he'd ever possessed ripped through her flesh. Hot gold poured forth from the wound, drenched his face. He was yelling, screaming something he couldn't comprehend. He watched her face contort with confusion and agony, relished in it.

He ripped the knife out, pulled it back, drove it down again, this time piercing her heart. A fatal wound, another fatal wound.

In the heat of battle, his instincts had saved his life countless times. But now, they only pushed him forward, ground the knife down again, now into her mouth. Her whorish, deceitful, wicked mouth- gagged her, empowered him, he took the knife again-

And all at once, he was unable to move. His arms hung in the air, paralyzed like a marionette. The knife clattered to the ground. Her shock had worn off. He had no more mastery over his body than he did the rising of the sun.

He hadn't had the ability to consider what the consequences of his outburst would be. Even now, he didn't care. The ire had burned hotter than his melancholic desperation ever had. He watched her slowly shift upwards, waited for his punishment. Some horrible, agonizing pain that would leave him paralyzed for days, maybe even weeks. He didn't care. Years had been spent, what could she possibly do of any consequence now? At least he could hold onto the agony, digest it. It was real, physical, unlike the years that had spilled away like discarded ink.

But as the golden ichor slowly melted away, as the wounds on her body disappeared into nothingness, he saw no retaliation on her face. Not a stitch of anger. Only some meager mixture of disappointment and pity.

“You've suffered so much, my love,” she murmured, shifting out from under him. She took his face in her hands and peered back at him. Her eyes were impossibly silky and warm. He hung still, unable to move, unable to contort even his face.

She took him in her arms. The King of Ithaca couldn't shake, couldn't tremble, couldn't manifest his rage. He hung, delicate as a feather, suspended by the will of an immortal. Another deity, there to break the rest of his will. One of many, perhaps the last.

-

Link to other chapters

[ak-rye-47]

Fanfiction : The Vampire Diaries

Title : " Weddings, Confessions & Conspiracies"

Available one AO3

Relationships: Damon Salvatore/ Lorenzo st.john. Mentioned Stefan Salvatore/Caroline Forbes

Tags: slight angst, wedding preparations, first kiss, love declarations, It gets better i promise, past trauma mentions , hurt , slight fluff , slight OOC

Warnings: past trauma mentions. Authors first ever work( please be kind). English is the author's third language.

Word count : Very long (i dunno just started typin on Tumblr and it's long )

Summary : Damon and enzo are getting ready for Stefans wedding.Damon try and help but that leads to some very interesting turn of events

No of chapters: 2/?

"uhhhh...was it around or?....my!"

Enzo let his hands fall on his sides with a sigh.He had been at this for awhile now but it just won't come to him. It's been a long time since he last fumbled with one of these.

Even then he used to have trouble getting it right. It was always too short , too long,too tight. Besides the fact he had to knot one every damn day during his service as an army official. When there was more sand in the upper part of the hour glass then the lower.

And then the glass broke and the sand was everywhere. Time seemed to have completely forgotten about him. No matter how much he tried to gather it and fill it back up, get it to remember him again , start ticking for him again. The grains just kept slipping away... the shards kept demanding his blood. Never enough thou. It was never enough. THEY never have had enough.

And then he was sent to kill the very man who had left him to die and he couldn't do it, couldn't bring his hand up to hurt him couldn't bear the pain in his eyes which once brought him relief.

How could he?

How could he when his first words after he last saw him disappear behind those hungry flames were

"You are Alive! Good God Thank Goodness you are.."

And then he had hugged him. Touched him for the very first time and he felt , just for a moment, just a little bit, of what he had called him.....alive.

Enzo lifted his gaze to meet his eyes. They didn't seemed to get the memo thou. Lord help him. Was he going to look like that at Stefans wedding? A lifeless corpse at a joyful occasion? It had been a long year for them they deserved some good times. Guess they would be better off without him if he didn't-

"Geez Enzo you still not ready? look at the time!"

Enzo snapped out of the daze.His eyes searching for the clock.

9:30

Heavens! how long had he been standing there? he remembered pulling that damn tie around his neck at 8 somethin.

"Sorry i uh.." He fumbled with the fabric as his eyes roamed everywhere but at him.

He heard a sigh, liquid slushing around in a glass and footsteps echoing towards him and coming to a halt. Damon ducked his head to look him in the eyes he have had fixed to a very interesting looking stain on an otherwise slick floor.

Enzo slowly rolled his eyes up to meet his. Calm as a storm they were. They searched for something.

Enzo lifted the tail end of the black silk up sheepishly. Damon downed the rest of his whisky and set the glass down on the table beside the washbowl.

Cold coarse hands brushed up at the sides of his neck, teasing the ends of his hair. He would love them to crease through them, hold them fast grounding him on the otherwise sinking floor underneath him.

He held the smooth tie between his fingers and expertly twisted it around giving it the shape it was meant to be bent in in the contradiction to whatever enzo had going on minutes-hour? ago?

" A hundred and eighty something odd years and am still doing that boys tie for him even on his wedding day. He's a lost cause. Didn't knew it's two of them in my hands now"

Damon said. Not that he was complaining. He fixed Enzos eyes with his, not needing to look at the tie to know if he was doing it right . He's have had too much practice .

"Well....i guess that's Caroline's headache now, in a moment or two" Enzo remarked at his bitching.

"I severely doubt it" Damon snarked back.

He thinks it's bad with a tie? He should have seen him few months ago when he was having trouble with damn buttons! it was as if he had to relearn every godforsaken thing like a new born. 70 years in a cage. He didn't exactly came out with all his marbles in his head. But he kept shut and let Damon hold his gaze. Keep im here. keep him from going back in their. in the dark. where he had been. For soo long.

As Damon did so,a single flick of his hair from the middle fell on his forehead. Rest of his black tresses combed back and generously gelled. The hairstyle brought focus on his eyes ten times they normally did when they framed his face. His turquoise blue suit and silver studs complementing them further. Holding them dear.

Enzo brought his hand up to his head and creased a gentle touch of his finger along his eyebrow , once and then back from where he started and once again. Then Balancing the rouge strand on its tip he tucked it behind his ear and ran a hand down his nape.

Damons eyes followed his finger as the slight frown his brows had pinched into loosened, his ever so stoic hands faltering in their tracks as his gaze softened and his lips parted as if to say something but was just a reaction.

Enzo hadn't even realised what he was doing until after he did it. Just a reflex. To always take care of people who did the same for him.Which weren't many.Last he checked the list, Damons name was at the top and underlined with maybe a few hearts floating around it. Folded and tucked in the far corners of his mind.

Enzo gulped, his throat bobbing under one of Damons hand which had come to rest on his neck the other resting right on his chest tucked behind the damn tie that had started all of this. Enzo held his breath, the hand on his chest getting warmer by the second. Did he feel his heartbeat rise? ofcourse he did, He's a vampire, he can fucking hear it like listening to a phone call if he damn well pleases. Probably is right now. Enzo's eyes wandered again

"S-sorry was it uhh? purposefully loosened i didn't -"

" No! no it wasn't it was uhhh tucked back" Damon cut Enzo's stammering short with his small excited whispers. His voice light as the feathers. Damon pinched the tie at its knot and pulled its tail. Enzo's breath hitched in his throat and he flinched, his eyes momentairly rolled back into his skull.

All that left a trail of goosebumps along Damon's spine , sending blood rushing throughout his body. His Touch was barely even there, just a finger.Why did it bother him so much?

Damon's breathing picked up as his heartbeat quickened it's pace making a light blush colour his cheeks cause of the mere act. Damn it! He really needs to get a hold of himself.

Why was his body being like that? It had always been a mystery to him. This guy really had some sort effect on him didn't he? maybe it was guilt. He had done countless things to hurt this man. Pulled his heart out and crushed it and kicked it and left it to burn and he was--

( That's the problem Damon!)

Enzos eyes furrowed when he noticed the change.Was he angry? That he had touched him? his face was all red...

--And here he was standing in front of him all preetied up smelling sweet and all, having long forgiven him for his acts and getting ready for a mans marriage who he hates, for his sake, cause Damon asked after Alaric bailed, cause he would be alone...while he should be punching Damon across his face and hating hi--

(I don't wanna hate you!)

"Damon you ok? is everything alright?" Enzo asked, concern dripping from his voice his eyes his damn face!

--why is he like this? always getting up, coming back,never giving up on him, on them. EVERY damn time he lets him down?.While he should be digging him up a shallow one and then spit on it--

(cause if I hate you then i have Nothing-)

Enzo carefully examined his face. Oh! he wasn't angry he was-

"We- we should leave or we'll get late. I'll wait for you by the car, you can finish up" Damon stuttered.

(....left)

--Embarrassed.

heh! that's a funny thought. And all this because of Enzo too.

"Damon!" Enzo held him fast by his wrist pulling him close , and held on to him tight when he had turned to leave.

Damon brought his other hand up in an attempt to loosen Enzo's grip as he avoided trying to twist his arm out.

"Enzo what? what is it?...ok let go you'll ruin the crease of my suit-"

Enzo acted fast and grasped his other one too. Damon first tried to pull then looked up at him with questioning eyes. Damn he was strong. Enzo stared back.

Damon sighed and closed his eyes to ease down his racing heart. Swallowing and with a forced steadiness in his voice he practically all but whined.

Jesus this guy would be the death of him.

"Enzo please.... we need to--Mmphh!!"

Pulling him closer by his wrists to his chest Enzo leaned in.

Smashing his lips onto the older vampires ,forcing his tongue into his mouth past the lips through his teeth and having a good taste for himself.Kissing Damon wasn't enough for Enzo he wanted to devour him. Bite into him and drink his blood, cut him open and live in his skin and become one and whole. He had been holding back for so long , just a few pecks weren't enough to get him by. He wanted- no needed more! anything and everything this man had to offer.

Watch that gilbert girl hang onto his arm, kiss him, have him had set his fucking heart on fire and when she had broken up with him he had felt nothing short of relief even if he had felt a bit remorseful for Damons pained state of mind. He wasn't Damons enemy, he understood letting go people that you love even though they hurt you...hurts.

And now here he was, blushing and heart practically thumping out of his chest, opening his mouth further for him letting him have him how he wanted, all because Enzo had touched his hair, looked at him funny.

The Bitter sweet taste of burboun still on his tongue, the burning sensation of Enzos stubble, the heavy sound of their panting into each other's mouth with each kiss, the mingled smell of their sweat ,their cologne their arousal. All clouded Damon's mind and turned it into mush. And then he moaned. The filthy sound echoing out of him and bouncing off of the walls and pulling him out of his daze made him push back. What was he doing? But Enzo still chased after him, hungry, with his tongue.

"Enzo wait... i - hah!" Damon panted with a hoarse voice.

"What....what do you uhh ....do you not want me to?" Their mouths a hair breath apart, Enzo breathed onto his lips as he licked his own almost touching Damons.Both his wrists still in his hands and were held close under their chins. Their foreheads resting onto each other's Their noses smushed together The burning urge to kiss the other was barely concealed.

" N-no i do but- " This isn't fair to you.

" So whats stopping?" Fuck just kiss me already then.

" you shouldn't" You deserve better, you deserve a lot better.

"why not ?" That don't matter, never cared about that, never will, not if it's you.

"you really shouldn't" I always end up hurting people! All i do is hurt people! I don't wanna hurt you , not anymore.

"But i want to " I'd die if i don't!

" i am not worth it " I am never worth it. i am not worth you.

"you are to me" Oh Darling! if only you looked at yourself through me.

"Enzo i am a dead end !" Why don't you get it!

" Then I'll carve the fuckin road ahead!" Why won't you get it!

"....." Ti Amo....

"....." I love you....

A single tear trickled down Damons face as he closed whatever distance was left between their lips. He has let people down he has let countless people down who dared show a shred of care towards him but not this time. Enzo was too trusting too stubborn too hell bent on loving him even if he don't love him back.

This thing between them had been hanging for far too long right back from those cages but it was still so new and fragile to him. And to hell if Damon wasn't going to give every single part of his pathetic little self to safeguard it and make it work. He can't let Enzo down, not anymore. He was giving him yet another chance and this time....he was going to be worth his while. He will be enough.

They pulled back at the same time and stood panting into each other's mouth. Enzo let go of Damons hands which he enclosed around his neck. The fingers dancing in his hair. Enzo held him by his waist, drawing him in.

" We are gonna be awfully late" Enzo Huffed.

" Oh now you are worried about the time?" Damon scoffed back.

..........*.............*................*...............*..............*....

Would you guys like Part 2?

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hi! I've heard that you like to be told about characters. Well, I've come to give you a good meal! By the way, I sent you my request, but if you deleted it, then everything is fine, I understand you and do not condemn you. Well, let's get started!

(I don't have any art with my character at the moment, but one day I'll draw her.)

Her name is Roxanne Rose. She was born in the UK into a wealthy family. Her parents were scientists and therefore they wanted their daughter to follow in their footsteps, but Roxanne was different. She was more attracted to art than science. (By the way, her parents' names are Richard and Rachel.) Her parents condemned their daughter's interests and called art a "waste of time."

"You'd rather study physics or mathematics than smear paint on paper!" That's what Richard and Rachel used to say. Therefore, Roxanne often painted everything that came to her mind in secret from her parents.

She was a huge dreamer. She constantly dreamed that when she grew up, she would become a famous actress and singer and would conquer the hearts of the audience.

But the ten-year-old girl had a terrible illness. She had schizophrenia. At first, Roxanne did not show this disease, but one day, after injuring her finger when the girl was climbing trees, she saw that not blood was flowing from her wound, but liquid gold. She was not scared, but fascinated by the sight. But after a while, her hallucinations began to intensify. Every time she shed her blood, gold flowed from the wound, and sometimes flowers appeared in the place of the wound.

One day, or rather night, Roxanne killed her parents. Their bodies turned into porcelain, gold flowed from them, and roses and lotuses grew on their bodies. And it was then that Roxanne decided that now the whole world is one huge stage and canvas where she will create and perform.

After that, the girl was sent to an orphanage, and no one knew that it was she who killed her parents, because Roxanne had good acting skills.

Throughout her growing up, Roxanne studied acting, dancing, singing, music and drawing. And when she entered the art institute, she had no equal.

But even after the death of her parents, Roxanne continued to kill, but she hid the murders very carefully.

When Roxanne became an actress, she gained worldwide fame. But not right away! Everyone considered her an innocent lamb and the epitome of art.

She was nicknamed the "Art Demon" for her methods of killing, but no one knew that the killer was a popular actress.

Roxanne soon met Alastor when she came to perform in New Orleans. She often came to his studio and actively communicated with him. It turned out that Alastor adored Roxanne's work. Soon a strong friendship was formed between them, and Alastor began to call her Roxy.

A few years later, Roxanne was caught by the police right in her house. Then her victim was an artist who called the police when Roxanne went to the store to get materials. After that, she was imprisoned for life. But a few months later, Roxanne committed suicide. It was 1931 then.

When Roxanne found herself in hell, she did not understand whether this was reality or her sick fantasy. But it turned out that this was all reality.

Armed with a revolver, she began to create her masterpieces again.

This is basic information at the moment, but I have more information.

And the question is, can I discuss the OC in your chat?

In the meantime, let's move on to the approximate appearance.

The facial features and hair are about the same.

In hell, she's a ram demon. There are ram's horns on her head. Also, her facial features are more sheep-like. She has a white fur, but its structure is more similar to that of a smooth-haired cat.

I also have a multi-part fanfiction with Roxanne in the process.

That's all for now, but you can ask me for more information in the messages.

WE LOVE MULTIDIMENSIONAL WOMEN ON THIS BLOG!! The backstore 👏 The motivation 👏 The demon design 👏 I feel for her and adore her so much already

She could probably kill me but I would die for her

[hauntedandmurdered]

memento mori - A Hannibal Lecter & Clarice Starling fanfiction

teaser:

When Krendler woke up again, it took him a few seconds to figure out what had happened to him in the first place. He was mutilated below the waist, that much his clouded mind could still perceive. By now, however, his physical performance had reached such a limit that he could no longer focus his blurred field of vision. As a result, he was no longer able to judge whether it was dark or bright. One could almost say that he no more lived, but merely existed. He was vegetating like a deer that had been shot and was being watched as it died an agonising death. That was precisely how he felt.

Somewhere in the distance, voices were thundering at him, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. It took too much strength to keep his eyes open. So he let the darkness swallow him up again. He was probably as neglected as a homeless person who had to be swept off the street. Hence, he bet he reeked of piss and filth for miles around.

“Ready for another sip of your broth, Paul?”, an inhumane voice whispered to his ear.

Krendler couldn’t tell if that voice was familiar or not. Broth didn’t sound all too bad, did it? Attempting to nod, he snorted like a slobbering pooch.

“Clarice? Our friend’s a tiny bit thirsty. Let’s provide him something to drink.”

Clarice. Krendler didn’t know a person called Clarice.

“I can’t remember to have invited a lady called Clarice home”, he croaked, then his body was shaken by a coughing attack.

“Don't worry, Paul. Everything is going as it should”, someone answered.

“Fine”, he hummed. “Fine.”

Then his head fell forwards because he could no longer balance its weight. When a straw was pushed between his lips, he began to suck on it. Damn, the liquid he ingested tasted disgusting. He couldn't think of anyone who would drink something like that voluntarily. His idea of broth was far from that. Be that as it may, he and this booze just didn't seem to be compatible.

“Food...may I...have some food?”

“Sorry, the remains of your liver were eaten up by some boars last night.”

“I see. I see”, Krendler softened his tone, leaning his head back with his eyes shut close. White dots were dancing like splendid stars in the black mist that surrounded him. “No food, then.”

“Exactly, Paul”, a velvety smooth voice stirred in the dark. “Memento Mori.”

Next, fatigue caught up with him and he was carried away by a dreamless sleep.

“Good morning, Paul. How are you feeling?”

“Who's Paul, man?”

“That's a really good question. Who is this man who thinks he can take whatever and however much he likes? Who is the man who assumes that the whole world is his oyster? Who is the man who dares to touch a woman against her will? And I especially wonder who this man is who expected to get away scot-free after all his sins?”

“Sounds like he's a rotten asshole, doesn't it?”

“You're absolutely right, Paul. I couldn't have said it better myself. How do you propose to deal with this man? How would you hold him accountable for all his actions?”

“I...I don't know.”

“I would fuck his mind until he literally begs me to let him die.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Doesn't it? Thank you for your candour and advice, Paul. I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

He was woken up with a bucket of water that was emptied over him. A tremor seized his body.

“Starling? Are you still here?”

“I am, Mr Krendler”, she answered monotonously like a robot. He had not the slightest idea whether she was standing in front of or behind him. Maybe she wasn't there at all and his mind was just playing tricks on him. Maybe everything he had experienced down here was just a hallucination.

„What time is it?“, he whimpered. He sounded like a chain smoker who had lost the colour of his voice through years of nicotine addiction.

„Time to regret.“

[demdifferentstories-29]

Scars (Doctor Who (2005) fanfiction)

Story Summary

When being intimate for the first time, the Doctor discovers that Rose has a few scars, and some have stories that the Doctor doesn’t particularly like.

1/1 chapters. For the Tentoo x Rose Microfic Challenge; @tentoorosemicrofics

Prompts: Worry; duel; icy; hospital; war; slitheen.

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

Word Count: 1159

Chapter Content/Tags: Scars/past injuries; hurt/comfort; angst.

Link (AO3), or read below!

Story

Rose was in utter bliss when the Doctor brought her to bed for the first time. It took a little while, having silently agreed to reacquaint themselves with each other and properly, officially develop their romance before getting tangled in the sheets together like that. They couldn’t deny themselves the intimacy and comfort of sharing a bed, being able to hold each other and being reassured that their life wasn’t some wild fantasy. 

As his gentle hands curled around her clothes, slowly peeling them off of her body and pressing featherlight kisses along her silky smooth skin, her excitement was growing deeper and fuller, each touch and caress like liquid fire straight to her core. She encouraged him with soft, tender noises and with the way her firsts bunched up against his back, and the way his breathing sharpened and deepened with each inch of her body that became bare to him, she knew that their intense feelings were mutual.

However, this prolonged and slowly building eagerness and need ceased without warning when the Doctor paused after tugging off her trousers. His lips and hands stilled where they were on her body, his breathing hitched and would’ve stopped entirely if he had retained his respiratory bypass, and when Rose glanced into her lover’s eyes with her hooded, dazed ones, she felt her brow furrow when she discovered that his gaze was filled with pure worry.

“Doctor?” she murmured with a breathy voice, stroking one side of his face comfortingly. Usually, this would draw him back down to Earth, but he was entirely fixated on whatever he had discovered.

“Rose,” he began quietly, “what’s that?” he questioned. Rose followed where his focus had landed and felt her own breath hitch when she saw that he had found one of her scars. 

On the flat of her navel was a puffy, shiny-looking, raised lump of skin that was pinker than the rest of her skin. It melded into her flesh, smoothing out into her untarnished complexion. But it still stood out on the valley of her body and was still a strong sight to behold even after a year or so of existence. 

“Rose?” he asked once more, with heightened urgency, when she didn’t respond. His eyes were more intense with fear now, slightly glazed over. “What happened? Who did this to you?” he demanded with an air of anger in both his face and tone, her silence only encouraging him to theorise the worst-case scenarios. She licked her lips, nervous about discussing this with him. 

“It’s nothing,” she assured him.

“ Rose ,” he insisted, the desperation in his voice clear as tears piqued in the corners of his eyes. She sucked in a breath, drawing her hands into her lap and fiddling with her fingers anxiously, unconsciously slipping one thumb into her mouth and beginning to chew on her hangnails.

“Please don’t get mad,” she requested as quietly as possible, glancing up at him. His brow knotted together and he ran his knuckles over her cheek.

“ Never , love,” he cooed. 

“Well, you know it took a few tries to find you again, right? To get to the right dimension?” she began, and the Doctor’s jaw clenched and body tensed all over as he started to hypothesise what this opening statement implied. He nodded stiffly, still hovering over her. Their arousal was non-existent now, but neither of them cared. This conversation was worth having and prioritising. “Uh, sometimes I found myself in tight situations or in bad locations. And with the wait time for the canon to recharge, things… things could get bad,” she explained with a tight voice. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he encouraged, dropping a soft kiss on her knuckles as he picked up one jittery hand. He rubbed soothing circles into her skin with his thumb. “You can tell me.”

“That one is from when I landed on an ice biome of some sort. It was freezing and in the early days of jumping, so I didn’t have an adequate kit on me. No thermals, extra layers, heat source, or anything—just a t-shirt and jacket on my back. I also landed in some bushes so my clothes got torn, so I got frostbite all over me. I recovered relatively well, but I got that scar,” she informed him. “Mum and Pete didn’t want me to keep going after that, but…”

He sighed heavily. “You insisted.” She gave a small, embarrassed nod. “And… there’s other scars?” he concurred, and she offered a similar nod. His eyes did all the pleading, and Rose obliged. She rolled over onto her stomach beneath him, and Rose heard him suck in a sharp breath as he took in her large scar that traced down her left shoulder blade.

“Would you believe me if I told you I got caught up in a Slitheen war? I tried to lay low as soon as I realised what was going on, but I was found by one last minute. Tried to grab me, we had a duel and… let’s just say I landed in the hospital for a few weeks,” she recounted with a tense smile as she looked over her shoulder.

He looked positively destroyed by her story, one of the tears that had grown trickling down his cheek. She started to turn back over, ready to comfort him, but one hand landed on her shoulder and gently ushered her flat on her stomach again. She gave him a confused glance.

“Just… just let me…” he spoke softly. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to her mutilated skin, trailing tender kisses down the mark that served as a reminder of how dangerous Slitheen can really be. Once done, he guided her back onto her back and kissed the frostbite scar. He looked up at her from where he was kneeling, eyes pleading and begging. 

“Anywhere else?”

She showed him the other marks, some from jumping and others not. He worshipped each scar, murmuring words beneath his breath at times. Once her entire body had been inspected and touched, they shared a few kisses and resumed their earlier intentions. 

They made love as close as physically possible, pouring their entire souls into it. The vulnerability of Rose sharing her body with him earlier added a whole other layer of intimacy and deepness to this exploration of physical need together, carrying them into heavily emotional climaxes that were unionised. 

Afterwards, collapsing into each other’s arms in sated bliss and eventually crawling into a tight cuddle, they drifted off into sleep, his fingers tracing her scars as they did. He loved his Rose for sacrificing so much and putting herself through hell to get back to him, and he would make that appreciation known every day for the rest of their lives together. She loved her Doctor for being her rock and continuing to love her even for her flaws, and would do the same offering for him.

[alakazamboni]

Cosplay

MP100 Fanfiction, Gen, Serizawa Katsuya & Reigen Arataka, ~850 words

Part of WawaWeek Day 2: Fashion/Official Art

Serizawa dresses up like his favorite video game character.

...

Katsuya stood outside the door of the office, fidgeting.

It was important to try new things, he reminded himself. Reigen-san stressed this point all the time. Particularly when it involved rouge non-spirit related exorcisms.

So why was he so nervous? Tugging the corner of his sleeves down, Katsuya smoothed his green tunic and re-positioned the little felt shield over his back. Soon, work hours would be over, and he could go run around in the con across the street.

Surely, Reigen-san would approve, right?

Steeling himself, he pushed open the door and announced his arrival. His announcement was met with an excitable shout from the kitchenette. The bitter tang of instant coffee permeated the air.

Katsuya was never particularly fond of Reigen-san's brand of instant, but he never shied away from the warm familiarity. There was something ritualistic about it. Domestic.

Besides, if he drowned it in cream, he could barely taste the bitter twang.

"I'm almost done in here," Reigen-san shouted.

"Take your time," Katsuya answered, safely kept out of Reigen-san's field of vision for the moment. He put his bag and shield away, and situated himself at his desk.

"Ah," he thought to himself as he self-consciously adjusted his costume. "I never knew how embarrassing this could be. Cosplayers are really amazing people."

His musings were imminently cut short as his boss rounded the corner and promptly yelped and dropped his tray of coffee.

Fortunately, Katsuya had developed something of a six-sense for falling beverages of scalding degrees, and was able to catch them with little issue. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure his boss had fallen into some kind of dress-related shock.

"Uh- Reigen-san?"

His face colored first from pale as a sheet, then to a dusty pink. "Wha- wha-" He stammered.

Despite the nervous tremors in Katsuya's arms, he managed to set the drinks down on the table with practiced ease. Choosing to feign ignorance, Katsuya asked, "Is there something wrong, Reigen-san?"

As if snapped from whatever exception his brain encountered, Reigen-san's eyes widened, and his hands whirled around. "N-n-nothing!" he managed to stutter. "Are you ready for work, today?"

Katsuya bowed his head, happy that Reigen-san decided against bringing up the bright green elephant in the room. "Of course, sir!"

"Good!" Reigen-san collected his mug from the coffee table and marched to his desk. "We have a lot to do. Yes. A lot." He slurped loudly from his mug. "So much, in fact, that I think I need to-" He stood up abruptly. "I gotta go."

Bewildered, Katsuya watched as Reigen-san, coffee in tow, expediently disappeared into the massage room. From his perch at the small reception desk, he could clearly hear the sounds of cupboards opening and closing in rapid succession.

Normally, this would have made Katsuya incredibly nervous. But as time went on, and he got more comfortable in his position as deputy, Katsuya just learned to accept that Reigen-san was going to do what Reigen-san would. His boss somehow straddled the line between a reliable foundation and an agent of chaos.

"Things would just be as they were going to be," Katsuya decided.

Hazarding a sip, he savored the taste of awful instant. Despite all of his complaining about the price of half and half, Reigen-san always dutifully served him a painfully pale beverage. In turn, Katsuya had learned how to prepare Reigen-san's tea. Give and take. Push and pull.

Something heavy fell to the ground and rippled the liquid which could only loosely be described as coffee in Katsuya's mug.

"Are you okay in there?"

"Yeah!" Reigen-san's voice sounded strained through the wall. "I'll be out in a moment."

"Okay-"

"And flip the sign to closed for me, will ya?"

Katsuya stood to do as he was told. "Do we have an appointment, sir?"

"Something like that," Reigen-san answered.

About ten minutes later, an out of breath Reigen-san emerged from the massage room. Katsuya's jaw dropped.

"Heh-" Reigen-san's mouth twitched in a self critical smile. "I guess we had the same plans."

Struck mute, Katsuya could only nod. Reigen-san had donned a similarly green tunic, beige tights, and tall boots. In one hand was a cardboard shield and sword. In the other was a balled up piece of fabric that Katsuya could only assume was meant to be his hat.

"I was going to go after work, but-"

"Do you want to go now!?" Katsuya interrupted, standing up so quickly that his knees smacked into his desk.

Reigen-san nodded sharply, cheeks still red. He pulled the iconic, wind sock of a hat over his blonde hair. "I didn't know you liked the Legend of Ekubo." Two bright red felt circles were on either side of his hat. It's long, stylistic tail slung gallantly over his shoulder.

"I didn't know you cosplayed," Katsuya said back. His head was light, and suddenly, he knew what dress-related shock must feel like. Those tights were awfully revealing in ways that made Katsuya feel like a kid again.

"This is uh- this is my first time," Reigen-san admitted. Then, he struck a heroic pose. "Now, lets go defeat the forces of evil!"

"Yes sir!" Katsuya eagerly replied. They both left the office, laughing and palling around, soon vanishing into a see of other cosplayers.

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

do you have any thoughts on Raven and Trigon’s relationship?

Great gods, do I EVER! And none of them are Good.

Fair warning, I draw the most from the early 80's comics and a fair amount from 2003 cartoon. As a matter of personal choice, I'm going to disregard the Sons of Trigon storyline, most modern comics in fact, and Teen Titans GO. I put some stock in the DC animated movie universe (after all, I roleplay that Raven now and then), but I'm not too fond of the way that the creators, in the bonus content, said Trigon was just a "mad dad". As if what he does to her every moment he's on screen isn't outright abusive.

Because that's what it is.

Trying to control your child and disregard their agency or right to make their own choices is abusive. Threatening them is abusive, threatening their friends is abusive, trying to separate them from their support system is abusive. Calling them names is abusive. The majority of this is coming from DCAMU, but it's present in the comics and cartoon, too.

No, a "power struggle" in itself between parent and child doesn't precipitate abuse, that's normal, but his intentions aren't for her safety, her happiness, or her well-being. They're all for HIMSELF. It was narrated (in New Teen Titans 4 or 5, I believe?) that the reason Trigon pursues her so much is that, if I have my phrasing right, "Even the demon called Trigon longed for family." But wanting a family isn't the same as wanting to LOVE them.

(Adding a cut here because I am Rambling On. You asked me about Raven. That's inevitable, really...)

I do not, in any sense of the word, believe he "loves" her. He wants to control her, he wants to possess her, and that is not love. He wants to use her to make HIMSELF happy. That is not love. He has literally, on MULTIPLE OCCASIONS, intentionally overcome her and eradicated her will, her personality, her desires, her dreams, her love for her friends. He tried to kill her mother and kill her friends. He FORCES her to give into him.

Yes, I believe some kernel of "the real Raven" is there in Demon Raven too, but to me personally, it always reads as Her Will being overcome by His Will. How many times has she said she doesn't WANT that? She doesn't WANT to become like him? She doesn't WANT to do the things he does? She never wants to be overcome by that part of her. She spends every waking moment of every single day struggling to assure That Does Not Happen.

I've explored this in my fanfictions through my OC that's Raven's half-sister by father, how I believe it's a sort of separate entity inside them, and because that story is about 250k words of said OC struggling against it, it's a thoroughly well-developed concept in my head. (That's DDD, for those who have been paying attention.) As it IS fanfiction, I won't claim that specific aspect is rooted entirely in fact, but I do draw heavily from canon to reach that conclusion.

In the New Teen Titans, Raven doesn't describe Trigon's influence as urges or anything she's ever tempted to indulge in. (Again, note my disregard for Sons of Trigon on this point.) She calls it "the part of her that is Trigon". It's Him, as if it's separate from all her other parts, the parts she DOES care to indulge in (her compassion, pacifism, etc.).

Also in NTT and subsequent series: "the part of [her] that is Trigon" is her soul-self, which is quite literally a separate entity, blatantly and explicitly, whenever it's shown.

In "Nevermore" from the '03 series: His influence is compartmentalized separately along with all her other emotions.

In DCAMU, and drawing a bit from the creators' commentary following the first screening at a convention (stating that in Judas Contract, that was Raven using her father's power): Even the power she inherited from him is something she uses as a separate ability. It's in the red vs. the purple, the sort of liquid texture vs. smooth black, her eyes when she uses them.

And then, I know it's (for some reason) really controversial to say Trigon is abusive to her. But how has he ever talked to her as anything else?

In the 80's comics, he seems to delight in calling her foolish, errant, insolent.

In the '03 cartoon, he simply doesn't care about her after she becomes the portal. He doesn't even care enough to, like, know that she's still ALIVE? He calls her "some remnant of my daughter". When she goes after him, he starts calling her "Wretched, insignificant--" And of course, her famous monologue proving he'd never raised or protected* her.

* (Supposedly, the moment with Juris either didn't happen in the cartoon or someone else stopped him from killing her? But that's a rather heavy thing to contemplate with very, very little canon evidence either way.)

In the DCAMU, we don't know how he treated her while she was with him, but the way he treats her during the carnival is enough. It's not in the argument or disagreement, but in the rays he strikes her with, the "batteries" he sends after her, everything he does to force her to comply.

Oh, and that little moment he calls her a disgrace for losing a sparring match? What the fuck.

How many times has he stricken her on screen? It may be magical, but is it any different from physical abuse with one's hands?

And in End pt. I and JLvTT both, he literally BLACKMAILS her by threatening to kill her friends! How could you POSSIBLY see anything but ABUSE in that?!

I have a lot of very strong feelings on their relationship, and while I can respect that other people have various headcanons on how "grayscale" it may be, I feel my interpretation is very firmly supported by canon. (At least, the canon I care most about.) I've seen fanfiction authors take quite interesting angles on it, but it's not something I care to do for myself.

Abuse is simply not something I can overlook.

[earth-ambassador-jim]

Lost Souls: Story 14

Paved with Good Intentions  

Lost Souls Summary: Merlin awakens early from his  sleep. He decides  that he doesn’t want to leaving anything to chance  and kidnaps the young  James Lake Jr. to began training his Trollhunter  as early as possible.

Barbara  is  determined to hunt down the man who kidnapped her son. In her  efforts  to get her son back she finds a strange old radio that speaks to  her in  a woman’s voice. The radio leads her to an underground society  of  shapeshifters.

Mother and son meet again years later as strangers on opposing sides.

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

~~~~

The callouses on Barbara’s fingertips rasped against the rough wall of the canal as she used her hand to steady her descent. When she reached the bottom she crouched down and she surveyed her surroundings, squinting against the glare and heat radiating off the concrete.

This would be guesswork more than anything.

“Third time’s the charm,” She said to the open air.

She reached into her satchel and withdrew a hard black case. When she opened it the light glowed red through the thick liquid inside crystal vials. She held back against the urge to rub the bandage in the crook of her arm. It would be easier to control the spell, she reminded herself. It wasn’t going to be a habit.

Barbara extracted one vial and a brush then returned the case. Next was the thin roll of parchment containing the spell circle.

She paused and scanned her surroundings. A few cars passed by on the bridge but they wouldn’t be able to see her. Still, better safe than sorry. The last thing she needed was the police trying to fine her for defacing public property.

She snorted at the headline that appeared in her head: “Ex-doctor caught creating graffiti canal with blood. More on page A2.”

Of course since she wasn’t creating any lasting marks they’d probably be more concerned about her mental state. She shook her head and returned her attention to the task at hand.

Carefully she began to copy the circle of runes from the paper onto the ground. She finished after about a half-hour and then moved on to another spot and then another.

Finally she stood up and knuckled her back with a grimace. She was definitely going to take some ibuprofen tonight. She looked up and saw that the sun was drawing near the horizon.

Good. There was still time for a little rest before she had to come back.

~~~~

The Arcadian night air was warm causing sweat to trickle down her neck. Barbara shifted uncomfortably, her armor clanking faintly with her movements. She smoothed the ruff of crow feathers down and readjusted the chain mail around her neck. If everything went well she wouldn’t need it. If things didn’t go well…

She shook her head and refocused her eyes on the dry canal before her. It was dark and nearly impossible for her to see anything. The visor on her helmet corrected her nearsightedness but nothing else. She would have to see about changing that. She spent far too much time running around in the dark these days. For the time being she whispered an incantation and channeled her magic to her eyes. Immediately things seemed brighter. Not daylight bright but everything was visible now. A faint blue glow reflected off the inside of her visor.

Below, on the floor of the canal, the dark bulky form of Bular was pacing back and forth under the bridge. There was a faint light on the horizon so he wouldn’t be waiting much longer.

A flash of silver drew her eyes to the other side of the canal. She turned her head just in time to see the silver clad Trollhunter slide easily down the side of the canal. Barbara’s fist clenched at the sight of the amulet. She took a breath and forced herself to relax it. It was not the time.

Barbara glanced back toward Bular and found him gone. A quick scan of the dark shadows under the bridge revealed that he was lurking on top of one of the girders.

The Trollhunter made his way toward the bridge and the hidden entrance to Trollmarket. As soon as he was under the bridge Bular let out a roar. He hurtled violently off his perch toward the troll beneath him. Kanjigar jumped back and let out a challenging snarl of his own, Daylight materializing with a flash of blue. He wasted no time in charging his opponent.

Barbara watched, barely blinking. Her nerves and chest tingled as if her skin was crawling with a thousand tiny ants, sparks of storm blue began to dance around her fingertips. She sent out the magic as nearly invisible tendrils.

Her fingers twitched when she felt one of her traps get touched but restrained herself as it was Kanjigar.

He danced out of the way of one of Bular’s swords, leaving the glorified butcher’s knife to carve a furrow in the concrete.

Barbara felt the beginnings of a headache. This was going to be annoying to clean up. As usual. It was really a wonder that the Janus Order didn’t have to disappear more people than it did with how bad non-changeling trolls were at hiding themselves.

Another tingle raced up her nerves. Bular had stepped on one of her traps this time. Barbara twitched watching as Bular struck blow after blow upon Kanjigar. Sparks flying as he swung his twin swords in a strange sort of rhythm. Barbara suppressed a growl of frustration as he ceased contact with the trap.

There were another two triggers from Kanjigar and five from Bular when…

Kanjigar began raining powerful two-handed blows down on Bular driving him back… Back towards one of Barbara’s traps! Barbara tensed like a viper. Kanjigar brought his sword down on Bular’s driving them into the ground. Magic gathered thick around Barbara’s fingers and…

Bular stepped on the trap just as Kanjigar put all his strength into a particularly powerful stoke.

Barbara’s fingers curled and a whispered word left her lips. Bular tried to dodge but the spell held his foot fast. His eyes widened. He was unprepared when blow fell. Daylight made contact with his skull squarely in the center. There was a blinding flash of blue light and when she could see again two halves of a statue were hitting the ground.

Kanjigar stared in shock at his fallen foe.

Barbara let a small, shaky smile of victory grace her lips. She may have, for all intents and purposes, sold her soul to the devil but at least she could make the town just a little safer.

Good intentions aside, Bular was a huge black hole for the Janus Order’s funds with how much time they spend cleaning up after him and covering up his existence. Eliminating him really was for the good of the Order.

Not that she was ever going to tell anyone that. No, as far as anyone would ever know, Bular was slain by the Trollhunter.

With a satisfied nod, she moved away from the edge of the canal and ready to return to her own personal hell.

~~~~

Kanjigar shook himself out of his stupor and began looking around. Something wasn’t right. Movement at the top of the canal caught his attention.

He snorted and tapped his amulet. With a flicker of white light his armor stopped clinking. He dismissed his sword crept silently up the side of the canal. At the top of the bank he found a depression in the foliage. He leaned forward and inhaled.

Human. It was a fresh scent too.

Whoever it was they had likely been watching him and Bular fight. There was a clanking sound. Kanjigar’s head shot up and Daylight materialized in his hand. He took a step forward, but stopped short as a beam of sunlight materialized in front of him.

A growl of frustration slipped from behind his fangs. Keeping his eyes in the direction he had heard the sound, he leaned down an inhaled the smell again, committing it to memory before retreated back into the canal.

Once at the bottom he made his way to Bular’s remains. He paused for a moment in front of them. He pressed his fist to his chest and dipped his head slightly before moving forward. Taking care to disturb the remains as little as possible he began investigating the ground under and around them.

At first he found nothing. Then…

Kanjigar’s nostril’s flared and he leaned forward smelling again. Yes… It was faint but… -He sniffed- He could smell the same human scent he had picked up at the top of the canal.

There was no way that was a coincidence.

Kanjigar gingerly dropped to all fours and began to track the smell. Honestly he would rather call for Aaarrrgghh to do it for him as the Krubera had a far better sense of smell than he did but day was soon and whoever did this might try to remove any of their traces. That aside it was dangerous to involve others in his job.

Eventually he found another spot where the smell was stronger again. He shifted back onto his haunches and ran his hand across the concrete brushing aside the dirt and leaves.

There was a faint tingle against his fingertips.

It was as he expected.

It was faint and its brown color made it hard to seem but there was a small magic circle inscribed on the ground before him. He mentally commanded his armor to open a small hole so he could reach his pouch. He fished around for a moment before finding a familiar shape. He pulled out the yellow crystal and held it before him. A pulse of magic traveled down his arm from the amulet activating it to record the magic circle before him.

He tucked it away and glanced back at the top of the canal. He didn’t see anything but the sunlight was starting to creep down the sides so he made his way back to the bridge.

It was time to go home. Hopefully Blinky or Vendal could shed some light on its purpose.

He paused for a moment and then snorted. Scratch that. He wasn’t asking Blinky. The Conundrum was a dear friend but he would draw some sort of crazy conspiracy out of this.

No. It was better to show it to the level headed elder of Trollmarket. If he didn’t know what it was he would see if Merlin did. The wizard would probably just give him some sort of vague comment as an answer so he wasn’t too keen on it.

Yes… Vendal really was the best choice.

~~~~

Barabara stepped slowly out from behind the tree she was using as cover. Her heart was beating rapidly as she watched the Trollhunter disappear under the bridge.

This was bad. This was really bad. If Kanjigar started investigating and the changelings noticed, they might find out about her involvement in Bular’s death. If the Janus Order… If Gunmar found out…

Her fists shook as she clenched them. She couldn’t let that happen.

She had to stop him. Whatever it took.

But how could she stop the Trollhunter?

Barbara started pacing. Her blood roared in her ears. She rested her hand the pommel of her dao, twining her fingers in the black silk adorning it.

She was quickly becoming more and more skilled at swordplay but he had centuries on her, not to mention his size, strength, and durability…

She raised her hand from her dao and ran in along the sheath hidden on the underside of her forearm. She found herself thinking again of the glass vials in her bag.

That could certainly work…

Barbara’s stomach clenched and bile rose in her throat.

Even if she didn’t like the Trollhunter, he did keep the town safe. He protected humans despite the fact trolls tended not to like them. Getting Bular killed was one thing, but Kanjigar hadn’t done her any harm. He was basically just a glorified sheriff.

The morning light finally made it to the bottom of the canal illuminating Bular’s remains.

If Kanjigar revealed that someone else was involve in Bular’s death. If the Order…

Barbara’s pacing sped up. Her armor clanked with every movement. It was unbearably hot.

She thought of the amulet on his chest. The amulet made by Merlin from the hand of his apprentice. A very powerful apprentice who wanted it back. Who would be pleased with whoever brought it to her. So pleased she might be willing to offer a reward…

Barbara paused looking down at the entrance of Trollmarket.

The Janus Order was going to kill Kanjigar eventually anyway. It was only a matter of time. Especially now that they didn’t need him to entertain Bular. If she did this she would gain more power too. More power meant she had more resources at her disposal. More resources meant higher chances of finding Merlin.

Barbara inhaled through her nose and the roughly exhaled. In. Out. In. Out.

The Trollhunter was Merlin’s Champion anyway, just as she was now Morgana’s. They were doomed to clash. Morgana would see to it and if that was the case…

Well…

What was one more sacrifice? She might as well get something out of it.

Barbara nodded to herself. If facing the Trollhunter was in her future she needed to prepare.

“Everyone and everything is a tool to get what I want,” She murmured quietly.

And she wanted Jim back.

She twined her fingers together to stop her hands from shaking as she began to make her way to the Janus Travel Agency.

~~~~

~~~~

Author Notes:

Barbara has spent enough time with changelings at this point that she's beginning to internalize their beliefs. Not really a good thing.

I'm trying to flesh out my descriptions a bit and do more show than tell. Please let me know how I did!

[bellakitse]

WIP Wednesday

Needing a little shameless validation. A small excerpt of the original story I'm working on. For context, this is a boss/employee, bar story, with mutual pining. (Also writing in first person is super weird coming from a fanfiction background)

“How goes the battle?” she points at the slew of papers on my desk with the glass before placing it in front of me.

“I hate dealing with invoices,” I grumble as I lift the glass to my lips, letting out a satisfying noise as the smooth liquid hits the back of my throat.

Avery tills her head to the side as her eyes crinkle at the corners from the amused smile she gives me. She pushes her golden locks over one shoulder and I’m helpless as I follow the movement, tracing the elegant lines of her throat leading down to her mostly bare, sunkissed shoulder. She’s wearing her typical bar attire of a black tank top with the word, my last name, Beckett’s written in gold script across the front, paired with a pair of skintight blue jeans that leave my mouth dry at how well they fit her.

“You should just let me deal with them, Kade,” she says softly, nudging the forearm I’m resting on the desk with her knee. “That’s my job after –“

“You’ve been painting,” I interrupt her as my eyes snag on a couple of blue and white pecks of paint just below her jaw. They look like constellations and I want to trace them with my hands, with my tongue. I want to lean in and breathe Avery in, sink into the smell of cherries, paint, and vanilla I get whiffs off when she gets close.

“Yeah,” she starts eyeing me curiously. “I’m working on some new pieces. Having that small gallery over at Fair Oaks display my pieces has been working out, they’ve sold a few already.”

I nod at her, keeping to myself that two of her paintings are upstairs in my apartment right now. Both self-portraits of Avery, they hang in my bedroom where I can stare at them for hours instead of sleeping.

[qotu33]

Simple green smoothie. As someone who hates vegetables but still needs to eat them, my acupuncturist recommended I try making green smoothies and I’ve gotta say, it’s been a game changer!

It’s also super great because I don’t have to think about what I’m going to have for dinner every night. I have a bad relationship with food, thanks to my digestive issues, my strong dislike of many tastes and textures, and being neurodivergent. I hate having to make food choices and spending time cooking and cleaning when I’d rather do other things, like write fanfiction late into the night.

~*~

Below is my basic smoothie recipe. The ingredients that are spelled out to the letter never change for me. The others change only when I’ve used up a bag of something. It will also depend on what’s available at the store. For the bananas, cut them in half, peel them, and store them in a freezer bag or container in your freezer, as soon as you buy them. This is a versatile recipe so change it to suit your needs and tastes!

This recipe does not require ice because most of the ingredients are already frozen and the mini cucumber helps provide liquid along with the almond milk and fresh fruit.

The fruit masks the taste of the vegetables! It’s magic!

~*~

Here’s my basic recipe:

1/2 frozen banana

1/2 cup almond milk

1 mini cucumber

Handful of other fruit (fresh, not frozen) for flavoring (currently using pre-cut pineapple pieces, but berries work really well too.)

(Let your mixer mix these ingredients until liquid.)

Add a handful or two of two different frozen vegetables (currently okra and broccoli, but zucchini, peas, and Brussels sprouts work well too. The key is that the vegetables should be green.)

(Let your mixer mix these until liquid.)

Add a handful or two of frozen spinach or kale (or some other leafy green vegetable.)

As a bonus, I’ve been adding a pinch of turmeric and a pinch of ginger at the direction of my acupuncturist.

(Let your mixer mix until everything is liquid and smooth.)

~*~

Too make this a full meal I will eat two fried eggs or a few fish sticks on the side.

I also like to pair this with crackers. Sometimes my kitchen wizardry doesn’t come out as tasty as I’d like, depending on the ingredients mixed together. Most of the time it tastes pretty good, but I’m a severely “picky eater” that causes problems at times. If it happens, crackers help give a neutral taste in between swallows. And yes, there are times I’ve abandoned a smoothie that just wasn’t working for me. It’s okay. Sometimes kale is too strong a flavor and it overpowers the fruit, or maybe the fruit’s just not quite in season yet. It happens.

Remember to drink your smoothie slowly and use a chewing motion. Supposedly, chewing helps you digest your food better, even if it doesn’t actually require chewing. From personal experience, drinking anything, even water, too fast can lead to acid reflux, which ain’t no fun at all.

This really works for me! As a kid I lived almost exclusively on dairy and wheat because that’s what tastes good to me. Even as an adult, I used to eat macaroni and cheese everyday for lunch. I still hate vegetables, but the fruit and other ingredients helps to hide the taste in a smoothie so I can be a little bit more healthy in what I eat these days.

[pumpkinkingsalem]

Tagged by @magnusbae , thanks for the tag!! :D

Favorite color: Greens!! Porple, black and red :D

Last song/album:

Mitski just-- agh, love her.

Currently watching: Uhhhhh I'm bad at watching shows, but the last thing I was watching was Doom Patrol :) (Larry Trainor my beloved)

Last movie: Deliberately? I think it was the new Puss in Boots movie? I am Equally Bad at watching movies

Currently reading: Men at Arms by Terry Pratchett :D (I have been neglecting it for a long while to read fanfiction tho :,) I really need to finish that book because I have like 10+ other books I have yet to read)

Currently craving: Nothing really, then again I have just eaten pizza and am Pretty Full

Coffee or tea: Coffee, I am an addict and have to at least drink a cup in the morning or else I get a headache xd, I do like tea though!

Rules: please answer in a new post!

Tagging: Anyone who wants to! Also tagging my moots again, and they can play if they'd like :)

@tryan-a-bex @academicblorbo @xx-vergil-xx @dancinbutterfly @ml-nolan @serenailith