#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.

[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.

[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!

[titleleaf]

Experiments In Early Victorian Skincare: A Soft Pomatum, Mk. 1 🍊

Recipe from H. Gifford's General Receipt-Book, or Oracle Of Knowledge, 1824. (This one seems to have done gangbusters in reprints, and other receipts collections ripped off its contents fairly freely… oh well.)

This was easily the most straightforward of the recipes I chose, but with one wrinkle. My first test batch was fairly small, about two ounces of shea butter (my meatless lard substitute, for now) and a corresponding amount of rosewater. It all melted together like a dream in my DIY bain-marie, but perhaps due to the fat substitution, I didn't have the advantage of the rosewater imparting its fragranced elements and then rising to the surface as the fat cooled. I was effectively skimming off the semi-liquid shea from a pool of rosewater (and spirits of wine) as the shea butter cooled and then rose to the surface.

I'm looking forward to trying this one with animal lard, but I have real apprehensions about how shelf-stable this recipe would be given the unavoidable residue of water left behind. I have murky plans to sell the proceeds of this project depending on how the results turn out, just to offset the cost of my tinkering and share a weird craft with fellow fans/historical cosmetics people, but I'd be a lot more uncomfortable slinging weirdly moist pomata via the postal service, spirits of wine or no. While this dismayed me, at least I'm not the first person to encounter this problem with early Victorian skincare recipes.

(From Henry Beasley's The druggist's general receipt book, 1850. you're telling me a nonbinary person wrote this footnote???)

The extremely unscientific poll I did on Twitter wrt the use of animal fats in this project came back fairly inconclusive -- more people in favor of non-animal fats than animal fats, but more people saying they didn't care or just wanted to see what other people voted for than either. I'll give both options a try, but both tallow and lard -- presuming "top-quality lard", which many receipts books specify outright, and not a big block of hydrogenated Armour lard -- are pricey enough that I'm holding off for now. In my quests to source lard and tallow for future experiments, I found out a lot of people are getting back into using animal fats for skincare, which weirds me out a little but encourages me that I won't be the weirdest person buying animal fat at the butcher's this month.

I will say, this one is ludicrously moisturizing -- I would definitely cherish this stuff like gold in a polar climate. It's heavy enough that I'd be more comfortable using it as a moisturizing salve for dry bits like hands and elbows, but I don't think it'd be likely to harm hair at all, and for fanfiction purposes only, it seems like it would be fine to use to lube up a butthole. It's firm at room temperature, but warms up easily if you rub it between your hands.

The fragrance of rosewater was absolutely negligible, not sure whether to chalk it up to an inferior rose water (might try this with a bottle I got years ago from Nielsen-Massey that smells like an absolute ass kicking) or the qualities of the fat involved. In lieu of wasting my precious otto of roses, which I'll need for Fitzjames reasons later on, I opted to fragrance this with a few drops of benzoin gum after warming the bottle in a hot-water bath. (I'd describe benzoin gum as… technically liquid in this form, but extremely viscous, unlikely to comply with a Euro-style essential oil dropper. I've got hard crystals for use in incense, but I didn't need to bust them out in this case. Overall the smell is a very smooth, almost gourmand incense note, not at all dank.) Benzoin resin is used as a fixative for other fragrance elements, and it's innocuous enough to be widely-used in cosmetics and confectionery; a few drops added a subtle fragrance here that I enjoyed.

If the rosewater route doesn't work out, there's always another option from Gifford. I really think I need to play around with the relative melting temperatures and consistencies of different fats here, but the comedy value of making a hard pomatum bar is not lost on me. IIRC there's a recipe for hard pomatum in this style in one of the American Duchess books (not surprising given its earlier publication year) and they use a Star Wars-themed silicone mold, which gives me great joy.

[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

[bloodblanks]

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

After falling unconscious in the Ghost Apartments, you wake up in an unfamiliar environment.

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

Blood. Pretty blood. A lot stain ground. A lot pretty.

He had sensed a disturbance in his space, in the liminal space where his world and their world converged. It wasn’t the first time; people have wandered there before, though he didn’t know where they came from. He didn’t know much about their world, save for the desolate building he resided in. He possessed little knowledge of the apartment, as well, but he knew that the space belonged to him.

Human appear here. Two human. One gone.

When he stepped out of the elevator, he was greeted by the sight of a collapsed human, pitifully lying on the ground. He wasn’t sure if you were dead or alive. Your closed eyelids and the small puddle of scarlet surrounding your head indicated that you were likely dead.

There had been another one. A woman in a raincoat. It wasn’t the first time he’s seen her; she appeared here twice before. Both times she had left a body for him—battered and bloody. He didn’t know why she did it, but he knew that the bodies were for him. Much like how he understood the building, he concluded that the bodies belonged to him as well.

Pleasant.

While he was satisfied by the previous offerings, there was something different about this one. You didn’t resemble the other humans that he’s received. You appeared softer, more delicate. As if one small touch would cause you to shatter. He would need to be careful with you—you weren’t alive anymore, but he still wanted to preserve your body and keep it in good condition.

The crimson liquid trickling down your face was awfully pretty. As if the glistening fluid was a decorative ornament, he found himself thinking that it somehow accentuated your elegant features.

Want touch.

He took a step forward, skipping the unnecessary space in between to get closer to you. You had just opened your eyes—pretty—with a smile—pretty—on your face, but your expression quickly changed into one of surprise upon seeing him.

His own features mirrored yours, his eyes widening as he stared at you in stunned silence. Perhaps that brief spike of emotion was too much for you, because your eyes shut and you fell back down as soon as static emanated from him.

Human dead? Alive? Not know.

His uncertainty didn’t stop him from approaching you, crouching down by your side as he reached out to touch your cheek. It was softer than he had imagined, your skin inexplicably smooth and startlingly warm. His thumb brushed over your cheek a few times, smearing more of the sticky sanguine across your face. With the rest of his fingers wrapping around your head, he noticed just how small you were compared to him.

Want.

One of his hands found the small of your back, and the other slipped beneath your knees. He effortlessly lifted your motionless body off the ground, scooping you into his arms and carrying you away.

Grateful.

Out of all the humans given to him, this one was his favourite. He silently thanked the raincoat woman for the gift.

As he took the elevator back down to his world, he found himself thinking that it’d be better if you were alive. He hoped you’d wake up soon.

—

You’ve never had such an unpleasant awakening before.

Even with all the times you stayed up late doing assignments and had to wake up for class with barely a few hours of sleep taken into consideration, this was easily the worst experience you’ve had waking up.

The first thing you noticed was that your head hurt. Both a dull ache through your entire skull and a sharp pain stabbing through the side of your head pulsated down your spine in sync. It was almost as if you’ve been clubbed, though you supposed being crowbar-ed was similar enough.

Upon recalling the previous events, your eyes instantly snapped open. Right, you had brazenly walked into the Ghost Apartments, where a strange lady in a raincoat attacked you.

But this wasn’t the Ghost Apartments.

The interior of the apartment complex was a memorable sight; dusty off-white walls and barren rooms devoid of any furnishment. A striking contrast to the seemingly clean, creamy grey walls that surrounded you, and the bed upon which you were laying.

This wasn’t a place you recognized, but despite its dingy appearance, it resembled an infirmary closely enough to ease your panic. Someone had likely found you and brought you to the hospital. It was a relief to know that you hadn’t bled out and died in the abandoned building. That would’ve been an extremely depressing way to go. You’d have been known as an idiot after your death, your legacy reduced to that one stupid decision you made.

You carefully pushed yourself up into a sitting position, hoping to leave the room and locate a nurse, but the piercing pain in your skull had you wincing before you could even get off the bed. You put your hand to your forehead, lips pressed into a frown.

“▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮.”

The sudden sound startled you, your muscles involuntarily tensing, before you relaxed—it was probably a hospital staff, which meant you wouldn’t need to go looking for one. That was a good thing. The voice had come from behind you, but you hadn’t been able to make out what they were saying, so you turned around, about to ask them to repeat themselves again.

A shrill shriek ripped itself from your throat.

The small glimpse of him you saw while disoriented was nothing compared to having him before you up close. It didn’t help that you were sitting on the bed, but he nonetheless towered above you, standing at a menacingly tall height. You hadn’t ever met someone of his stature before.

He was as red as the myths depicted, if not more, a long scarlet cloak draped over his form, and in his hand an umbrella of the exact same hue. Since you were far from level height with him, you were able to see beneath the umbrella—ruby locks framing skin the colour of smoke, and peeking out from the messy garnet strands were sunken eyes black as coal.

There was no life in those eyes. They were reminiscent of those belonging to the dead fish you’d see in the market.

You opened your mouth to say something, but no sound came out. You remained on the bed, as inanimate as you had been, when the raincoat lady attacked you.

“▮▮▮▮?” His voice was rough and gravelly, the sound alone causing your hair to raise on end. “▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮. ▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮.”

You came to the sudden and dreadful realization that you could not understand a word of what he said. He appeared to be speaking in a language foreign to you.

“Can you understand me?” Your words were so hushed that you could barely hear them over the sound of your own heartbeat, slamming against your chest with the force of thunder strikes.

The entity merely stared at you, his dull raven eyes unblinking.

A long moment passed, the weight of the silence becoming too heavy for you to bear, his gaze too horrifying for you to continue staring into. You glanced away from him, instead focusing your sight on the wall beside you.

You lacked the time to form half a coherent thought before the very air in this room seemed to fracture, the space where he stood shattering and his form materializing directly by your side.

He reached down, his much larger hand cupping your cheek like a baseball glove, tilting your face up to meet his gaze once more.

“▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮,” he stated, his tone firm. “▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮.”

You could only assume his words were related to your lack of eye contact, but you had no way of knowing for sure. Nonetheless, you tried to keep yourself from looking away.

Hot, salty tears pricked at your eyes, barely restrained by your waterline. Your lip quivered and your chest heaved as you took in sharp, shaky inhales in an attempt to prevent yourself from hyperventilating.

—

Human troubled? Afraid? Not know. Not understand.

The sight of your watery eyes and terrified expression was a mystery to him. He rarely saw any of the residents from his world upset, and during those rare occurrences, it would always be for a discernable reason.

He hadn’t hurt you—in fact, he had taken good care of you by bringing you back and finding you a bed, even watching over you while you slept. He hadn’t done that for any of the other humans gifted to him, though the other humans had been visibly dead. Not that it would’ve made a difference—had they still been alive, he would’ve killed them himself. He had no interest in them.

But you were different. That was why he had taken extra caution not to hurt you. So why were you looking at him like that?

Hurt. Human hurt.

He concluded then that it must be your injuries from before. He still vividly remembered the beautiful scarlet that spilled down the side of your head. It was a lovely sight; the mental image now branded into his mind.

You looked good in red. Red, like him.

Head damaged.

He took his hand off your cheek, moving it to the side of your head in search of the injury site. As soon as his fingers brushed over a swollen protrusion, you tensed and squirmed away.

“▯▯!” You vocalized something, but he didn’t quite understand. “▯▯▯▯ ▯▯▯▯▯.”

Not understand. Human speak another language?

Now that he thought about it, he had never conversed with someone from the other world. All the bodies left for him were just that—bodies. The woman in the raincoat didn’t interact with him; he wasn’t even sure she knew he existed. He had only watched her from afar. He hadn’t felt the urge to see her up close, not like he did with you.

You raised your hand, hovering it just over your head as if you were shielding yourself from him. There was some moisture on your cheek, having dripped from your eyes. He didn’t fully understand it, but he could tell you were upset.

Hurt. A lot pain.

He thought of petting you to soothe your pain, but you didn’t seem to want any contact with your head. He settled for your back instead, sitting down on the bed—it made you flinch again—and carefully placing his palm where your shoulder blades were. He tried to be as slow and soft as he could. He didn’t want to frighten you.

“You not need worry,” he even tried to explain. “Me not hurt you. Me take care you.”

Despite his efforts, you were still tense, the muscles underneath his palm feeling rather stiff. He reasoned that you must not understand him, like how he failed to comprehend your speech.

Human not understand me. Not understand my language.

He mulled over the fact in silence, pondering just how he could communicate with you. Things would be so much easier if he could simply convey his intentions. That way, you wouldn’t be so scared.

He continued caressing your back. It was very small, his hand easily covered over half of it. After a long moment, you finally broke the silence with yet another sentence he was unfamiliar with.

“▯▯▯▯ ▯▯ ▯▯▯ ▯▯▯▯?”

The way you enunciated it made it sound like a question, but beyond that, he had no idea what you were saying.

Troubled.

Frustration was not an emotion that he frequently experienced. The feeling was almost foreign to him. But in that very moment, it consumed his entire being.

—

Communication wasn’t possible. You had realized that much by now. Each of your attempts to speak with the red umbrella man was met with an undecipherable response. It seemed that neither of you was able to comprehend the other, making this already stressful situation even more perilous.

So far, he hasn’t hurt you, which offered you the slightest bit of relief. He appeared to be trying to comfort you, his much larger hand lightly touching your back in a rhythmic motion. While it didn’t do much to ease the general fear you felt, after some time, you could feel your shoulders slumping and muscles going slack in acceptance of the physical comfort.

While the red umbrella man made you uneasy, he hadn’t technically done anything wrong. His act of forcing eye contact was a bit intimidating, but maybe it wasn’t seen as such for him. You didn’t know anything about the customs of inhuman creatures, so you tried not to jump to conclusions yet. Panicking wouldn’t help you; you needed to figure out your current situation with as clear of a mind as you could possibly have.

You tried to gather the information you had so far.

You took a deep inhale. The breath you let out was steadier than before, your nerves seeming to calm down at the lack of any immediate danger.

Okay, you thought to yourself. What do I know about this current situation?

You had made the asinine decision of entering the Ghost Apartments. There, you had been attacked by an unknown woman with a crowbar. The man with a red umbrella appeared, and then you passed out. You woke up here—but where was here?

You had already shut down the possibility of this being a regular hospital in your area, with the red umbrella man just visiting, seeing as you had screamed earlier without any reactions. If this were a normal hospital, the staff would have surely come to check in on you. Not to mention, the more you observed this place, the more you noticed the cracks in the walls, chipping paint, and the thin film of grime coating the space. Definitely not up to hospital standards.

This implied that the red umbrella man had transported you to a neglected, desolate building in god knows where. The change in location was a cause for concern, your eyebrows knitting together as you warily glanced at the man. Your eyes narrowed at him in suspicion.

“Where am I?” you questioned. He stared at you with a blank gaze in response. A sigh left your lips; you weren’t sure why you had expected anything else.

You could try to navigate if you had your phone, but the absence of weight in your pocket notified you that you had likely dropped it during the encounter with the mystery woman.

The only choice left was for you to leave the room and figure it out yourself. You stared at the man for a few seconds longer before sighing once again, pushing yourself off the bed and getting up to your feet. You wobbled a bit, struggling with your balance as you tried to ignore the still pulsating pain through your skull.

There wasn’t any reaction from the man at the sight of you getting up. You thought about asking him what was outside this room, but with the language barrier, there would be no point.

You steadily walked towards the door. As soon as your fingers touched the cold steel of the doorknob, you felt the space behind you distort.

A much larger hand was placed over yours, halting your movement.

“▮▮▮▮.” Another word you couldn’t understand. “▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮. ▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮ ▮▮▮▮.”

Taking into consideration the context clues, he was telling you not to leave. Am I being held captive here? You couldn’t help but fear this situation was more sinister than you had initially assumed. Perhaps you were just a moron for thinking anything to do with the paranormal could be harmless.

You frowned as you weighed your options. You could either ignore him and try to force your way out, or you could stay put and come up with a plan. The first option would require you to physically struggle your way out of the room, which—judging by the fact that while standing, the top of your head didn’t even reach his shoulders—didn’t seem too probable. It would also risk angering the monster, something you wanted to avoid doing at all costs. The only thing worse than being trapped with an inhuman entity was being trapped with a displeased inhuman entity.

You let out your third sigh of the day, walking back to the bed and sitting down on it. Presently, your best option was to remain here.

Stay calm, you tried to instruct yourself. Stay calm, and try to find a way to escape.

If you were lucky enough, perhaps you could get home with all your limbs fully intact. 

next chapter ->

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.

thank you everyone for reading and supporting my work! (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[violetryst]

Ok ok bet

Who was your first fictional crush?: The first one I can remember was Ash Ketchum…… I was like seven.

What's the first colour you think of when I tell you to think of a colour?: mustard yellow lol

Which fanfiction emotionally scarred you and still makes you shudder to this day?: LFLS, and many others. Would you like a list in alphabetical order numerical form

I'm coming to your house for dinner, non-negotiable, what are you making me?: Costco chicken nuggets. They’re buss, everyone likes them, and idk how to cook anything else

Do you prefer lions or kangaroos?: lions. I’m a cat person

Which fictional villain do you brush past the glaringly obvious issues for because you really like them?: Doc Ock 😭

What would accompany your picture in the Burn Book in Mean Girls?: “sped” or idk… fuckin “so attractive she’s in my burn book now”

How many days would you last in the universe of your favourite fandom?: dude you’re making me choose a favorite?! How about this; the longest I’d last in my current fandom would probably be a few weeks at best.

Have you heard of Mischief Theatre?: No

Do you feel sorry for Medusa?: Yes!!

Which song makes you think of your OTP?: Liquid Smooth (Mitski), Line Without A Hook (Ricky Montgomery), All We Have Is Now (Royal Blood)

Which song makes you disassociate and daydream the fastest?: Sea, Swallow Me (Cocteau Twins/Harold Budd)

Taggin my buddies!

@cotton-candy-918 @nameissmile @aquabian @raphieartz

My own get to know you game:

Who was your first fictional crush?:

What’s the first colour you think of when I tell you to think of a colour?:

Which fanfiction emotionally scarred you and still makes you shudder to this day?:

I’m coming to your house for dinner, non-negotiable, what are you making me?:

Do you prefer lions or kangaroos?:

Which fictional villain do you brush past the glaringly obvious issues for because you really like them?:

What would accompany your picture in the Burn Book in Mean Girls?:

How many days would you last in the universe of your favourite fandom?:

Have you heard of Mischief Theatre?:

Do you feel sorry for Medusa?:

Which song makes you think of your OTP?:

Which song makes you disassociate and daydream the fastest?:

Tags: @weltato, @snarky-wallflower, @feathertru, @barclaysangel, @fanficwriter284, @silvershewolf247, @shadowbrightshine, @luxury-nightmare and anyone else who wants to have a go, feel free!

[golden-barnes]

𝓛𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓢𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 I : ‘𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓲𝓽’𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: Spencer always gives her a warm smile, despite being a stranger but he never imagined that their meeting would be like this.

Word count:1.3k

Warning: Mentions of the case they are working on, suicide, and stuff involving the investigation

Author’s note: I am very excited about this. It’s my first Spencer story, so let’s see how it goes.If anyone want to be added to my taglist, send me an ask. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed.

“Order for Spencer!” The barista shouted. Spencer grabbed his satchel and his papers and rushed to get his food and coffee. He was waiting for his next class to start and decided to get a snack to clear his head and revise his notes. 

He thanked the barista and went to add the insane amount of sugar he likes to add to his coffee.

That’s when he saw her again.

Spencer saw her everywhere. At the coffee shop. On the university campus. At the library. At his favorite bookstore. She was there but strangely it didn’t worry Spencer. She didn’t look dangerous or that she was a threat. She intrigued him. She looked like a normal University student, so it never raised any alarms in Spencer’s head. 

She seemed lonely though. That’s what always struck Spencer as interesting. Most college students travel in groups but she was always alone. Reminded Spencer of his time in college.

 Spencer bumped into her, carelessly. This was the first time he had seen her up close. 

“Oh, are you okay?” Spencer said to her, grabbing her forearm to stabilize her. The woman only nodded. Her eyes were focused on the door of the shop. Spencer looked in the same direction to see a man with short, brown hair standing on the other side of the street, looking at the two. Glaring at the woman. Spencer felt her shiver in his arms. 

“Uhm, thank you, sir.” She mumbled under her breath and walked out in a hurry. The man Spencer saw was gone. Spencer frowned at that. She walked to the street where the man was and just like that, she vanished too. Weird way to start the morning.

And things got weirder when Emily called him after his last class ended. 

“Hey, Reid. You are done with class, right?” She asked. 

“Yes...What’s going on?” Spencer said, packing up his things from his desk. Usually, Emily wouldn’t call him while he was on a sabbatical. Unless it was for some team activity or some dinners at Rossi’s that they plan at the last minute. 

“There’s this case and I know you are on sabbatical but we need your help,” Emily stated, trying to convey security. But her voice faltered at the end. This case had to be extra bad for Emily to call him and for her voice to be like that. 

“How fast can you get here?” She added. Spencer could hear Luke in the back talking. Spencer walked out of his classroom and started jogging to his car.

“I am on my way.” Spencer said and hung up. 

Spencer has only seen the BAU in a total mess only a handful of times. And today was one of them. Penelope was running to Emily’s office, where JJ and Emily were talking. All of them looked stressed. Rossi and Tara were talking to some agents. Rossi looked tired. The older man noticed the young doctor’s presence and called him over.

“That’s all agents. Wait for further instructions.” Tara concluded, and the agents went to their places. She let out a sigh of frustration. 

“Oh, Reid. Thank God you are here. Come on let’s get you up to speed, kid” Rossi exclaimed, signaling to the younger man to follow him.

“For the past 2 weeks, we’ve been investigating a string of murder-suicides all over Virginia and Maryland.” Matt started. Spencer looked at all the pictures of the crime scene. 

“10 men killed themselves. 5 of them were family men, and they killed their entire family before killing themselves.” JJ explained, her gaze was stuck on the photos of the families. They were happy and looked like normal, wealthy families.

“And there are no signs of foul play?” Spencer questioned.

“None, boy-wonder. But this is the weird part, none of these men had suicidal tendencies before their deaths. In fact, they were living the life. They were rich beyond all definitions of the word. They had several houses in different parts of the world and traveled to them a lot. They woke up one day and chose violence. Hell, Mark Holland, the 3rd victim, had plane tickets to Dubai.” Penelope answered. Spencer gave her a confused look. It seemed strange but nothing that the team couldn’t handle without his help. They’ve done this multiple times. Why was he called in?

Emily looked at the doctor, noticing the confusion in his face. 

“These men have no connection except being rich, privilege, and white. But their paths have never intersected. M.O is different because every suicide wasn’t carried out the same. There’s no suspicious phone calls or messages. There’s no threatening emails from one sender. There’s nothing. Only the victimology.” Matt continued.

“It’s like the puzzle from hell because everything is missing.”Penelope snorted.

“We’ve been 2 weeks on this, and we only have one lead. The fiancé of the last victim overheard him murmuring a name for days. Y/N Y/L/N. Luke is bringing her to the interrogation room.” Rossi said, looking directly at the doctor. The rest of the team turned their attention to him. There was a silence in the room. It was uncomfortable, so much that Spencer shifted in his chair.

“Reid, we need a fresh set of eyes with this woman and this case. We’ve been too invested with no rest.” Emily finally explained. Spencer just nodded and grabbed the case files and headed to the interrogation room.

As if it were a joke, Spencer saw her again. Being dragged by Luke into the interrogation room. Spencer opened the files and saw the name Y/N Y/L/N and the picture. The same woman he has been seeing everywhere was the only lead in this impossible case.

“She hasn’t said anything?” Tara asked Spencer and Luke. Y/N was staring at the glass, bored. But for the past 30 minutes, she has been silent. Not even looking at the photographs of the crime scene that were around her.

“No. I’m gonna talk with her now, I think she has had enough time to think.” Luke said. Tara nodded and left the room. Something in the back of Spencer’s mind was telling him that she wasn’t going to budge. 

“Hello, ma’am. My name is SSA Luke Alvez.” She huffed and crossed her arms. Luke smiled at her, trying to see if the nice guy approach would help.

“Do you know why you are here?”  Y/N rolled her eyes. Maybe not.

“Probably to waste taxpayer money.” She retorted. Luke let out a soft chuckle but took out the photos that were in the files.

“Do you recognize any of these men?” Luke asked. Y/N glanced at the pictures. She looked bored still but there was no sign of recognition.

“So you want to waste taxpayer money.” She laughed. “No, I don’t know who any of them are. Now can I please go?” 

“Do you know this man?” Luke asked, pulling out the picture of the last victim. She rolled her eyes again and leaned back in her chair. 

“If you are gonna keep showing me pictures of men I don’t know, at least give me some water or something.” She joked. Her body language hasn’t changed. If she had anything to do with these murders, she was a great liar.

“How about a hint? His name was Nicholas Mclain.” Y/N stiffened. Her gaze was stuck to the door, similar to the way it was at the café. 

She recognized the name but not the face? Weird. Spencer thought

Suddenly, Tara ran into the interview room. Spencer couldn’t stop her, so he entered the room with her. 

“There’s been another suicide,” Tara announced, out of breath. Luke stood up and looked at Y/N, whose eyes were trained on Spencer. 

This case wasn’t going to be easy.