#my art is all stiff and i can not do full body to save my life BFNBSNDNS

[dormiloncito]

i wish i could draw well

[princess-of-the-corner]

Was reading stuff on your Duchess Noire AU and had an idle thought. Chloe does discover Tikki but doesn't tell Marinette cos she fears Marinette won't trust Duchess anymore & will get hurt. This also feeds into her sneaking around & watching Marinette with her family and that whole… Everything but like even worse now cos she's full on putting Marinette on a pedestal which only serves to know her lower.

"Sooo, its a little weird that you're sneaking around my house spying on my family, but given you've kind of saved my life a few times by fighting Akuma, I figure I owe you the benefit of the doubt."

"The benefit of the doubt..." Duchess chuckles, no snickers into her paw like gloves like its some joke, but there's a sickeningly tight sort of wheeze to the sound that makes it feel like... Not a laugh.

Marinette swallows, and forces herself forward with the words, "So what brought you here, Akuma hunting maybe?"

Marinette watches as Duchesses stiff half poised to jump frame slacken and she simply plops down on the roof, staring at her. This drags on for nearly a minute as the heroes mouth slowly opens then snaps shut over and over as if she cannpt findf the words before finally she sags.

"I'm trying to figure you out."

"Me? I'm nobody special-"

"HAH! Are you for real?" There's a sort of wide eyes look to the heroine, words spilling out so fast they almost tumble from her fanged maw.

"Of course," She snaps back, not quite angry but increasingly worried about her partner and identity. "I mean you're a super hero-"

"I'm a wrecking ball who happens to make a decent damage sponge when Ladybug needs it. I'm not good for anything but hurting and breaking and being a punching bag, not really, I just happened to be pointed at things worse than me Marinette."

She looks her in the eyes and then away again, all the energy sapped from her frame as she murmured.

"I'm nothing like you, and that's the problem, that's what was always the problem I think. No one worthwhile whose met you has anything bad to say about you, in fact they adore you."

Se stood up and began pacing, tail swishing as her hands gesticulated wildly. "You have that creative brilliance that all truly exceptional artists should that lets you create things other people with more resources and time never could. Your parents don't just live with you they actually love you!"

Those last words seem to rip themselves out of her throat as she turns to look down at Marinette, still staring up at the heroine from her balcony as a sick, heavy dread settled in her stomach.

"Your parents love you," She mutters, practically collapsing atop the roof, a violent shudder running through her body, "And mine don't... So I must... I have to be doing something wrong... I just need to figure out what it is." She chokes whatever she was going to say back.

Marinette's mind races between options and explanations; sickness, akuma, maybe a fight? She knows Duchess can be dramatic and overreact at times, but then... Her parents don't live with her? Is it because they travel for work maybe-

Her thought process stops, Duchess is looking like she wants to run away, body tensing, feet beginning to pivot. Only them does she notice her parents making for the roof through the ladder in her room.

NOTES:

I recall hearing that Chloe just lives in a hotel suite and her dad has his own so while technically in the same building she's functionally on her own.

Also I always figured a lot of Chloe's hostility to Marinette was rooted in jealousy. Both seem to be in the same general 'tracks' at school, even art.

I always like ot HC the first two years of their relationship was more of a rivalry but a very harsh one given Chloe was stll chasutic but not as bad.

It, or more Chloe in general, worsened when they were twelve & Audrey came back for her birthday which Chloe was heavily involved in organizing down to the last detail to make her happy.

The party received no compliments, and Chloe was constantly sent away any time she tried to speak to her mother with some new insult about her clothes, or make up until essentially dismissed.

Locking herself in the bathroom she looked for what was wrong, missing or broken in her before finally losing it and just attacking the mirror, seriously injuring her hands and setting her art skills back to beginner levels.

After that she gave up on being better than Marinette and instead focused on tearing her down. Adrien may be aware of the mirror & party stuff but not how much it led to Chloe going from "Brat with a temper" to "Obsessive campaign against this one person who has everything she wants" that steadily spilled out into wildly direction-less antagonism at basically everything.

OOF YEAH THIS IS

Yeah it's.

I've written before on how while Chloé's overall behavior is a mirror of how her parents treat her and how they taught her to treat others.

Her focus on Marinette is because Marinette is so beloved by everyone despite the fact that she's 'lesser' and doing things 'wrong' (according to Chloé's template for 'Exceptional' given by her parents). Marinette has this perfect life with friends who genuinely like her and parents who do more than the bare minimum.

And there's jealousy and frustration. Chloé wants that life, and is confused why Marinette gets to have it.

[camellia-salazar]

Even more ponified Ed Edd n Eddy. Almost done (until I draw more).

Double Dee did a spell on her, the same one Twilight put on everyone but Rarity on that one episode of MLP. Just so she can hang out with Kev in the clouds.

(And yes I'm a stinky Kevnazz shipper, a multi shipper, and yes this is my second favorite ship or tied to first I can't decide).

Personally I think he's not that cool. Mid character. (Lies in sees potential).

The Cul De Sac kids because I want to see them and the Eds in the same page. Also the more I draw these guys the less stiff they feel idk.

Oh and kevin quoting that same laugh that I took from the game Mis Ed-ventures whenever you lose your life or get caught in said game.

The Kanker Sisters about to throw hooves. Idk what they're fighting about and I doubt they know either. Also May cutiemark reveal.

The Eds and the Kankers. Just to see all of them together, full body.

Transparent and more undercut:

Almost done with pony Peach Creek for now. Here are some things about ponified Cul De Sac kids.

Sarah: her and Jimmy wishes to be alicorns someday but are otherwise content with just being themselves. Pretty much close to match her brother's strength.

Her cutiemark is kinda hard to explain. It's a heart that's loud if that makes sense. Sarah can be caring to those who she deemed deserves it and she can be a loud mouth. (I might change it into something better but idk if I should save it for some other character).

Jimmy: A pegasus who's dream is to be a fashion model. He can't fly but only because he wasn't taught how to, but after a while like in season three or something idk I'd make a fan ponified episode where Kevin teaches him how to fly and Eddy joins in somehow. Not explaining it all here but I've been thinking about it.

Jimmy's cutiemark is meant to match Sarah's, which is a heart with a halo. (Not too sure about that one but as long as I gave them sort of matching cutiemarks then I guess I'm good).

Jonny 2x4: he's the only spotted pony in the Cul De Sac. Sometimes the others can't tell if his spots are dirt marks or actual spots. For the most part they are legit spots but at times there are dirt spots too. This version loves playing in the dirt as well as climbing stuff.

He doesn't have a cutiemark yet. Too occupied with Plank to try and get one. (When he gets one tho idk it might be an acorn. Or a melon. Maybe both. Maybe even two acorns).

Plank: speak of the devil. Plank is as mysterious in the pony world as much as he is in his original one. He only ever really hangs out with Jonny and pretty much tells him what to do most of the time. They're inseparable though.

Plank is as much of a blank flank as Jonny. Tho Jonny might draw him one eventually. (He just doesn't know what it should be yet).

---

It's crazy how I'm unsure about Sarah's Jimmy's Jonny's and Plank's cutiemarks despite two of them not having cutiemarks yet.

Thanks for reading and viewing my fan art, have a great day/night! 👍🌟✨

Edit: oopsies did I forget to post this? My mistake original gangsta.

(this was in my drafts)

[clown-stripe]

So like. I got diagnosed with *yet another* chronic illness two days ago. Doctor says I have fibromyalgia, which is what has been causing the constant full body pain that makes me feel like every inch of my skin is a bruise being pressed on 24/7

Which makes sense, and I’m glad to know that I’m not just crazy, because I’ve been in pain literally since I was born, to the point that I don’t have a single memory where this pain wasn’t present, at least in the background. So I really thought it was normal, and that everyone felt like this until it got a lot worse in the last few years that I’ve been dealing with flare ups of Crohn’s and lupus, but neither of those can explain the constant pain I feel underneath every inch of my skin

It’s a relief to get a diagnosis, because for a couple years now, since it started getting worse, I thought this feeling was just what people talk about when they say you reach your late 20’s and can’t neglect good habits anymore without feeling it. That this pain was just bundled alongside the feeling of getting sore + stiff from not exercising/sleeping well enough. I have wondered on several occasions how the hell everyone lives full lives with this kind of pain, or why more people don’t kill themselves upon finding out that they have to feel like this for decades??? Because sometimes I can’t bear the thought of feeling this pain every day for the rest of my stupid little life. I’m not strong enough to bear that burden when I’ve already lived 28 years with it and I feel tired all the way down to my fucking bone marrow from carrying this pain with me everywhere I go, even in my sleep, in my dreams I feel it because I’ve never *not* felt it and I have no idea what it feels like to not be plagued it.

But now that I know what’s wrong and there are treatment options to try? Maybe I’ll finally get to know what it’s like to not be in pain.

So the doctor gave me a new medicine for it to try that will hopefully make my nerves feel less, and I can actually do things again instead of just being in bed thinking about how bad the bed hurts against my skin and how gravity is a curse because I can’t just float so nothing is touching me and making my skin hurt. And all the ideas for various art to make I’ve been saving up for when I’m capable of sitting up and holding a pencil again can be worked on. I can finally take the drive out of my old busted laptop to get all of my concept drafts off of it because I only managed to save the most important/almost finished artworks on it before the battery swelled (and my fav version of photoshop too, because I’m an idiot and don’t commit which one it is to memory so I can just pirate it again, I just keep transferring the program files to install it again lmao)

Maybe I’ll actually get around to coming up with a permanent pseudonym to start posting my art under, and finally start sharing it outside of Snapchat where it disappears in 24 hours

[aristocratic-otter]

Hi folks! Well, first of all, I'm out of my mind. Just sayin. I decided to sign up for NaNoWriMo with only ten days left...and I'm going to try to finish it. Why? Because I've got too many WIPs and I just signed up for the Discord Secret Snowflake exchange, so I'm about to get another. I need to wrap these up, and I've got a week off, so what better time?

Second of all, y'all have got to see the lovely art my husband commissioned from my friend @frjsti for my birthday. See below.

Isn't he brilliant? And isn't my husband the absolute best?

Ok, on to business. First, thank yous. Then snips under the cut. Thank you to @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @erzbethluna, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @confused-bi-queer, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe and @hushed-chorus. I'm always astonished at how creative and diverse you all are and I'm thrilled to know you!

Six sentences from:

Playing With Fire, Treading Thin Ice

When I emerge from the ensuite, I’m a little unsettled to find Simon still nude. How am I supposed to question him about his magic when there’s so much gorgeous skin on display? But before I can ask him if he’d like to get dressed so we can talk with a little more dignity, he blurts, “What fucking right do you have to judge me, Baz?”

I just stare at him. 

His eyes are flashing and his hands are drawn into fists like he’d like to punch me. It’s disturbingly attractive.

From: Raising Dragons

I move to the door, and, out of long habit (Simon’s always had a few dark creatures hunting him), I glance out through the peephole. What I see makes me go stiff.

“Simon!” I hiss through my teeth, which have once again sprouted fangs. “Go lock yourself in the room with the children!”

“What? Why?” he asks, craning his neck as if he could see through the peephole from where he’s at. 

“It’s the goblin king!”

From: Xanadu AU (Unnamed right now)

Simon is staring around himself, open mouthed. “What is this place?” he asks in an awed tone. 

When Fiona showed me around, she told me, “it’s a settings room. We try out different backgrounds, lighting patterns and sound blends before we send our artists out on tour.”

My mother had a different answer, the one I give Simon today. “Music is magic, little puff,” she’d tell me. “And like all magic, it sometimes needs a little bit of inspiration to get going. This place exists to give our musicians their magic back.”

From House AU (gift fic for @yellobb-old)

The Universe must really be mocking me for me to find myself in Baz’s hospital. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Child of high birth and privilege. My former roommate. A brilliant scholar and a bullying arsehole. What gods did I piss off to land me here?

From Saving Simon Snow:

“Show me how I can trust you,” I say, my voice softer than it has been during the duration of this call. 

“Meet with me? Somewhere public, your choice,” he says. “I’ll let you cast whatever truth spell you want on me.”

My eyes widen. That is a dangerous offer, and Basilton must know it. 

“Meet me at the McDonalds in Hounslow in one hour,” I say. 

And finally, from Westward Son:

I start back, my hand over my mouth. Did the demon take over Simon? Is my best friend…gone?

Baz is feverishly casting healing spells over Simon, and, as a precaution, I take up the demon exorcism chant again. I hope that if Simon’s body is hosting the creature, it will vacate as soon as the chant finishes, even if I don’t have the power of the full circle behind me. 

I’ve just started naming off the demons again when Simon’s eyes flick open.

It's actually not too late to post for Sunday, so I'm just gonna tag some west coast peeps (and a few friends from farther away just to say hi) in case they want to share what they're working on.

@fatalfangirl, @palimpsessed, @annabellelux, @basiltonbutliketheherb, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @facewithoutheart, @giishu, @frjsti, @krisrix, @larkral

[generous1ty]

Gundham, Nagito and Hajime with a s/o that has a duck army? (A surprisingly strong duck army) they say they’re gonna take over the world with it-

Also they probably throw bread crumbs on Kazuichi so the ducks attack him.

hihi!

i really love this prompt, not only because it’s so random, but because i love ducks and having a strong duck army sounds amazing. i suppose we’re the Ultimate Duck Army General? hahahsjjskds

don’t bully Kaz too much pls--

also, you didn't specify whether you wanted headcanons or drabbles, so i did drabbles for them! hope you don't mind. :)

lots of love! <3

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Gundham, Nagito and Hajime reacting to their S/O who’s a General of a strong Duck Army!

genre: fluff warnings: none besides...bullying Kazuichi... </3

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Gundham Tanaka (0.6k words)

to say that this day was like any other day would be undermining the situation at hand.

currently, unbeknownst to Gundham Tanaka, the Forbidden One, you had been holding an army of your own and kept it hidden from him! an army of ducks, at that!

it was so surprising that it had baffled the man from his ice cold persona to his power to call his Four Dark Devas.

i mean, a mere mortal has the ability to handle an army of ducks?! absurd!

you must be... more reliable than he thought. surely you were of the same caliber as him. after all, not just anyone can become a general of an army. a duck army especially.

"[Y/n]... have you conquered the demon that speaks to the ducks?! is that why you have claimed such immense power over armies and armies of such strong opponents?!" his voice rattled your ears as you simply smirked, crossing your arms in wait for his speech to be done.

"Gundham, the Forbidden One," you called his name, grabbing his own attention as a cold bead of sweat fell down his face, "I have been sustained to years and years of training to be able to master the art of creating this massive duck army!"

while you had a bag of crumbs still left in your hands, you decided you'd enjoy yourself a bit.

"with this army, i will take over the world! everyone will know my name as [Y/n], God(dess) of the Flying Creatures!" you boasted, as Gundham let out a strained noise.

"you surely have enough power to defeat me, [Y/n], God(dess) of the Flying Creatures. HOWEVER! Gundham, the Forbidden One must stop you in your tracks! To let a mere mortal wander with such power is blasphemy! so i shall put a stop to it,"

you readied your bag of crumbs, your hands already inside of the paper before he could even cast a spell or draw a summoning circle. more so, before he could start anything, you had already throws the crumbs at him, yelling the iconic line almost anyone wants to say,

"ATTACK!!"

. . . .

he... had lost..?

surrounded by calm ducks that had once been feral to him, Gundham was laying on his back. the floor had never felt so cold...

"to think... i would lose to such as the likes of you..." he let out a bitter chuckle, his eyes fluttering shut, "i guess this shall be the end of Gundham, the Forbidden One, right?"

"Gundham," your voice was strong and stern, enough to shake his own eyes open once more despite his quick and shameful defeat, "your purpose is not to defeat me, but to befriend me in defeating the Demon King of hell, and to restore peace across the lands."

your outstretched your hand, waiting for him to accept the help off on his back, "so befriend me, and i shall help you conquer the demon realm."

you were a worthy opponent indeed... to defeat him and then accept him, no wonder you were leading such an amazing duck army. truly, you were a leader; someone worth following.

his hand had fallen into yours, mesmerized from your skillful nature.

what had you done? had you cast a spell on him? a spell that made his heart pick up speed, or make his face light on fire?

despite this, he could not utter a word. he simply hid behind his scarf, admiring you from the distance you had placed.

"now, let's go bully Kaz," you suggested, his hand still in yours as you both travelled away to faraway lands to throw breadcrumbs and magic spells at Kazuichi Souda.

<3

Nagito Komaeda (0.5k words)

Nagito's hands were filled with breadcrumbs and his body flocked with different kind of aquatic birds.

of course, it was just his luck to be hindered when something lucky happened to him. that was just the cycle. even so, he smiled at the ducks gently pecking at his hand for the bread. the ducks were so cute, and full of a beautiful kind of hope.

before this, he had to deliver some bags of bread crumbs to you. he didn't ask why, nor did he need to. he was just happy you trusted and depended on him to even ask for a simple favor from him!

but sadly, on the way to you he was attacked by a large group of ducks. now, with no way out but to feed the ducks, he stay sitting on the ground, feeding the ducks either by hand or by throwing some crumbs out.

any passerby would think he was some crazy lunatic or something.

you, however, had tried to meet him halfway since... well, since he didn't show up with your bags of bread crumbs.

"hey, what are you guys doing? i told you to stay in--" with a few ducks in your arms, your eyes spotted Nagito. he had heard your voice from your general direction, and his eyes had met yours.

"Nagito?!"

"[Y/n]!"

. . . .

"wow, [Y/n]! you really commanded those ducks as if they were your own army! such talent..! nothing less from an Ultimate, I suppose," he praised you for helping him get away from the flock of ducks that were, as said, your own army.

"i really am lucky to have had you save me, huh?" his question made you smile as you picked up on of the ducks from the nice, straight line behind you.

"from my own army, yes. very lucky, i'd say," Nagito's face seemed to flush a bit, shoving his hands into his pocket as he looked away from making eye contact.

"your army, huh..? then i guess i got it right," he boasted, chuckling to himself.

"well, they don't call you the ultimate lucky student for nothing," with your back turned to him, arms outstretched wide with enthusiasm as you began your speech.

"i shall dominate this world with this very duck army! ducks will be the new indoor pets, they'll be fed and appreciated everywhere.. they'll be a new trend! and once i take over this world..." you turned around, taking the bags with breadcrumbs from Nagito, "you'll be my second in command."

you waved goodbye as you trotted along with the many, many ducks following behind you.

his hands that were released from his pockets had covered his mouth, his mouth that let out small chuckles and giggles.

the hope you gathered inside of you to say that you'd take over this world infested with despair and fill it with hope by a duck army! it was splendid!

and to be your second in command...

he supposed that maybe just once, he could be a little bit selfish.

<3

Hajime Hinata (0.7k words)

it had been a simple outing to the park.

Hajime had no idea why you insisted to go somewhere else, as the park was a nice way to get some soft exercise and the scenery around the park nearby was beautiful.

he was fine with it if you didn't want to go, though.

despite all your protests, you both went anyway.

you two had only been in the park for a small while, but you were so stiff and observant. it was kind of concerning to him, so he decided to ask.

"hey, [Y/n], are you okay? if you don't want to stay here we can--"

"NO! i-i mean, no. i'm okay, i just-- i have something to tell you after we're done with the walk, okay?" you insisted that you both finish this walk.

you also thought that the scenery of the trees and the lake was beautiful, especially since the sun was so bright today. the weather was good for a walk, Hajime knew what he was doing when he suggested the outing to be today.

he scrunched his nose up a bit, but agreed nonetheless, "alright.. if you say so. if you ever need anything, you can always just ask."

he was so reassuring just AGGHHH I LOVE HIM

anyway

ducks.

all you saw were your ducks everywhere. if you hadn't trained them to understand your signals to stay away, you swore Hajime would have been swarmed and pecked by many, many ducks by now for even being near you.

thank goodness you had thought of things beforehand.

other than you spotting ducks everywhere, you were also graced by Hajime's smile the whole walk. just looking at nature and taking in the beauty of it-- Hajime loved being outside.

but most of all, he loved being with you during all this. if he was honest, he hoped that the thing you had to tell him was a confession-- but he wasn't lucky like Nagito. to get his hopes up would be silly, so he just needed to be logical.

maybe it was about this park, or something that had happened to make you so...

"Oh hey, a duck," his voice startled you. but that wasn't the only thing that surprised you.

a duck?!

he picked the small duck up and-- oh god.

"HAJIME!!"

. . . .

shooing a few ducks away from the brunette, you dusted him off, a sorry expression on your face.

"agh, i'm sorry--"

"why're you apologizing?" he gave a soft laugh, "it's not like you knew i'd be attacked by ducks."

as ridiculous as it sounded, after he picked up the small duck at his feet, he was knocked over by a multitude of others in hiding.

now that he thought of it, why were there so many ducks nearby..? he didn't see any on the lake, either. it was... odd.

"so hey, do you know why..?-"

"Hajime," you helped him get up on his feet, taking his hand and pulling him up from the ground.

his face flushed a bit as he grabbed your hand, and he gave his attention to you, "yes, [Y/n]?"

"those ducks were mine," you told him, a hand on his shoulder as you gave him the same sorry face as before, "i'm sorry."

...what?

what did you mean by-- what?? those ducks were yours? why-- no, how did you get those ducks? how did you get them to be so well trained to hide in bushes and trees??

"i know it's probably confusing, but-- i've had them for a long while. i promise i'm using them for the good of the world," you told him, as his confusion only worsened.

"good of... the world..?"

he could see your expression darken as you smiled, grabbing his hand and raising it to intertwine your fingers.

"world domination," you told him, your face brightening up once more.

he was baffled-- speechless. world domination?! he had to stop you--

"well, that is, if you can conquer the world with ducks," you chuckled, which had cancelled out your past claims.

"but i really did train those ducks. they're like my own mini army,"

he chuckled, almost finding this amusing. his chuckle turned into a small laugh before kissing your forehead, "world domination sounds like a good goal."

your face flushed a bit, letting go of his hand and backing away.

before conquering the world, it'd be better if you conquered the feeling inside your chest first.

[mayans-sauce]

Break Up, Make Up (2/3)

Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, cursing, vulgar words, dirty talk, oral (male/female receiving), face fucking, face riding, vaginal fingering, teasing, spitting, orgasm denial, choking, cum feeding, degrading, hint of sir/master/pet kink, some daddy kink (obviously), hair pulling, slapping/spanking, slight anal play, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids and I think that’s it! There is some sweet and caring Bishop at the end to make up for all of this!

A/N: thank you @benshapirosdrybussy and @everyhowlmarksthedead for listening to me and my ideas to encouraging me to write and post this. I love you both so much❤️ Sorry if there are any mistakes. I hope all of you reading enjoy this second part💦

• Part. 1 • Part. 3

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You waited patiently for him to take off his clothes and tell you what he wanted. Once his kutte and shirt were off, you couldn’t help but lick your lips at his toned abs coming to view, and you just needed a taste. You leaned forward to run the tip of your tongue from the hem of his jeans and as far as you could reach up. His whole body shuddered at your little but powerful move.

As much as he would love for you to continue to worship his upper body, he needed something else right now, and so he pushed your head away from him a little, making you sit still and looking pretty while he got off the rest of his clothing.

The belt buckle being undone was like music to your ears, and the excitement was getting to you. It showed the way you were lightly bouncing up and down on your knees, “please hurry, Bishop! I need to taste you.”

Without warning, he gently wrapped his hand around your pulse to keep your full attention on him, “did I say you could speak?” “N-no, sorry.” “That’s right. Only speak when you are being spoken to, sweet girl, behave yourself, and I might go easy on you tonight, you understand?” “Yes, Bishop, I understand.” “Good, now work your magic on me.”

His cock was fully out and erect for you only, and you needed a minute to admire all of him. Even though the man was short and small, he was packing big and heavy in his pants. His mushroom tip that you loved to suck as you did with a lollipop on a hot summer's day. His thick and protruding vein on the underside of his shaft that you ever so lightly loved to trace with the tip of your tongue. His thick girth that stretches out your pussy oh so heav- “it’s not going to suck itself, no matter how long you stare at it,” your train of filthy thoughts was interrupted by his voice.

“Huh?” You forgot where you were for a second. “I said it’s not going to suck itself, sweetheart,” he traced your lips with his thumb, and you allowed him entrance into it. You sucked and swirled your tongue on his digit, making him groan out, “let’s put that mouth to good use.”

With one hand, he held himself, and the other went to the back of your head to push you on his dick. Your lips wrapped around his tip as you suckled on it, swirling your tongue round and round until he had enough, he needed more, and he needed it now. “You can do more; take all of me.”

Pushing himself more and more in your mouth until your nose met his base, your tongue teasing as you took him in. The feeling of him so deep in your throat made you cough around him. The vibration of the cough made him shiver down his spine, and he just needed to feel more. With one of his hands at the back of your head, his hips thrust quick and sharp into your mouth, experiencing all that your mouth had to offer. He kept his dick deep in your mouth, fucking it to his liking, bruising and abusing, “you take me so well, doll,” until you showed signs that you needed a break, and he was kind to let you have a breather. He couldn’t help but to hissed at the loss of you around him.

Your lips were swollen and your eyes watery. The saliva from your mouth was trickling down his length, and it made you even more hungry to taste him again. His cock twitched at you when you looked so innocently up at him, and he couldn’t help but wrap his fist around himself, making quick strokes to hurry up the process of reaching his end.

“Show me your tongue.” Sticking it out as far as you could, he laid his head on it, switching between tapping his head on it and making strokes on himself. You looked up at the God in front of you. His head was thrown back as far as it could go, and his mouth open with no sounds coming out of it. The image of him made your clit tingled in delight, and you were so tempted to reach down with your fingers and relieve some of it, but you didn’t dare in case he got angry.

He didn’t start moaning again until he showed his cock in your mouth, thrusting just like he did before, then his vocals kicked up, and he let out moans, grunts, and all the sounds that made your legs close in need of some friction. He was going to cum; you could see it, feel it. He twitched in your mouth and his muscles tensed up in preparation to let himself go, but he didn’t. He pulled you off him, and you were disappointed because you had been eager to taste him.

“Go sit on the bed.” You had to do as told, so you got up and moved to the bed, sitting down to wait for further instructions. He moved slowly towards you, “get your legs up and spread them; show me that pussy, baby.” You rest your weight on your elbows as you pick your feet up off the floor and spread them nice and wide for him, your feet resting just at the end of the bed.

He’s now standing in front of you, and the sight of you all wet and glistening makes him let out a groan like an animal. He pumps his stiff cock in his hand, the saliva from your mouth helping him to glide effortlessly.

“Let me see, let me see what belongs to me.” You knew what he wanted, and you happily obliged. Spreading your lips so that he had a view of your fuckhole that belongs to him, his personal fuck toy.

“Fuck baby,” his pace on his shaft increasing upon the view in front of him. You smirked at the power you had over him, just one look, and he was already fucked up. “Are you going to cum all over me, Bishop? All over this pussy that belongs to you, baby?” All he could do was nod his head, the pleasure taking entirely over him.

You take one of your fingers and tease your entrance, hopefully, the image that will help him reach his end. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” “..no.” “No, I didn’t. So be a good girl and hold yourself open while I cum on your pretty pussy.”

His words made you pulsate, and you just needed him to fuck you raw, but you need to be good and listen. So you did as told, spreading yourself so he could see his favorite sight in the world, and you tried your best to encourage him with your words.

His muscles tensed up again, a sign that he was toward his release. His movements were much more focused on his red and sensitive head. “Fuck I’m gonna-“ he didn’t get to finish his sentence before his tip shoots out ropes and ropes of his cum all over your pussy. Moans, swearing and your name falling from his lips like a chant, his eyes shut tightly. “That’s right, querido. That’s right cum all over me just like that.” He didn’t let a single drop of his cum go to waste. All of him was painted on you like an art piece at a museum.

After a few seconds of calming down, he opened his eyes to admire his masterpiece. “Look at that work. It would be a shame not to take a picture of something so beautiful. Stay right there.” He fetched his phone from his clothes on the floor and took a picture to save to his gallery containing many of yours and his NSFW photos. He tossed the phone somewhere to the side, not caring where it landed; his focus was only on you.

“Touch yourself. Start with your clit.” You didn’t think twice. You were excited that it was your turn now. Your fingers found your pulsating and needy clit in seconds, your wetness and his cum helping you to glide your fingers all over. You were a little bit too eager, rubbing at a fast pace to bring you faster toward the release you sought so much. “Uh uh,” he gave you a little slap on the inside of your thigh, “not so fast. You aren’t allowed to finish yet.” You slowed down your hand, “sorry.”

He helped you to keep yourself open with his two hands at the back of your thighs. “Push a finger inside yourself… slowly.” You teased your entrance, tracing your slit up and down before you ever so slowly pushed in with your middle finger. The feeling of finally having something inside of yourself emitted a satisfied sigh that you’ve been holding in. It felt good, but just one finger wasn’t enough; you needed more. “Another one.” Your prayer had been heard, and you pushed in the index finger to join the other. The stretch made you lean your head back some. Your fingers were brushing against that spot that had you nearing your orgasm.

“That’s a good girl. Does it feel good, baby?” His voice was low and sensual as he spoke to you. “Y-yes, it feels so good, Bishop.” He spits on your clit so that his movement on it with his thumb went smooth and effortlessly. “Ah fuck, that feels so good! Don’t stop.” The thought of a mixture of his cum and his spit covering you as well as his and your movements bringing you closer to the finish line had you laying down and back arched till its limit. Your eyes were fluttering close, and the only thing leaving your mouth were moans, whimpers, and pleas for him not to stop.

“Add a third one.” You added the third one. The painful but pleasurable stretch was too much for you to handle, and you were going to cum in a matter of seconds now. You forced the fingers in and out at a rapid pace. Your other hand pinched and pulled your nipple for added stimulation. You couldn’t help to scream out a little as the pleasure was taking over your senses.

“S-so close… Bishop, please, I’m g-gonna,” but you didn’t get what you wanted, he stopped his hand on your clit, and with it, he pulled your hand away from yourself. You clenched around nothing as your hole was seeking desperately to be filled again. You whined at the loss, and you pleaded for Bishop to please let you continue, almost tears in your eyes, “please… I was so close.”

“I don’t care. You're not in control tonight. I am. You understand?” “Y-yes,” your voice lowered as you spoke. This time when his hand went around your throat, he squeezed hard, as hard as he felt like you could take it. The slightly lowered oxygen you were getting made your head spin. “What was that? I can’t hear you, baby. Speak up.” “Yes, you’re in control tonight, and I’m just your fuck toy to use.” “Yeah, you are.”

With his hand still on your throat, his other went down to your most sensitive parts. His fingers scooped up his cum and your arousal, and he made you take it into your mouth to clean yourself up. His hand on your throat loosened up bit by bit as he fed you. You moaned at the taste each time his fingers went in your mouth like you were tasting a five-course meal. “That’s a good girl taking my cum like that. Does it taste good?” “Mhm… taste so good.” You licked your lips to show him that you thought it was delicious.

Once you were squeaky clean, his hand clenched hard again on your pulse, making you close your eyes. His other hand went to his stiff cock to bring him some pleasure. “What should you call me tonight, little one? Hm? Sir? Daddy? Master? All of them?” “D-daddy, please.” “Of course you will, you little whore. You are daddy’s whore aren’t you?” “Yes, I’m daddy’s whore.” His hand squeezed even more, demanding on your throat now; the pumps of his hand on himself were music to your ears. “Will you let daddy fuck you like one?” “Y-yes, d-daddy, please. Fuck m-me like the dirty whore I am.”

His hand that was on himself moments ago went to your hair to pull your head backward, making you strain your neck. “But first, open your mouth and show me that tongue.” Opening and sticking your tongue out for him, you waited for what was to come. What he did next came as a surprise, but you thought it was the hottest thing that ever existed.

He spits on your tongue, and not a second later; he crashed his mouth to yours. Tasting your tongue with all his flavors. “Such a good girl taking my cum and spit.”

He let you go, which made it possible for you to breathe more naturally. Before he lined himself up with your entrance, he glided his cock up and down your wet folds, stopping once in a while to give your clit a few taps with the head of him. “So wet for daddy,” he said low, more for himself than for you.

He lined himself up with you as his eyes gave you a look asking if he could continue. As much as Bishop was in control tonight and being dominant as he had ever been, he still wanted to be sure that you were comfortable and wanted to continue. “Please,” your voice was so low that it sounded like the wind, “I need you inside of me.” Your walls were pulsating in need to be filled up with His goodness.

When he started his slow journey filling you up to the brim, you wanted to close your legs so badly, but Bishop wouldn’t let you. He kept his hands on the inside of your thighs, holding you open for him. “Fuck, querida, so fucking tight.” Your breathing hitched in your throat each inch he got inside. The feeling of being filled with cock made you moan out like the whore you were.

Once he was entirely situated inside, you brought your fingers to your abused bundle of nerves that was begging for attention. “Fuck me hard, daddy, please.” You didn’t need to tell him twice. He pulled himself out till only his head was inside before he quickly and roughly fucked you for his liking. “You take me so good, sweetheart.” His skin slapping against your skin, his and your grunts and moans were filling up the room. You focused on his dick separating your walls so deliciously each time he filled you up. Your hole and your clit getting the attention it needed had you again arching your back and your head spinning.

Bishop kept one hand on your thigh while his other was placed just underneath your bouncing breast to keep your arched back down on the mattress. All of his pent-up frustration and anger was being taken out on your body tonight, and you didn’t mind one bit.

“B-bishop…” “What do you want? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.” “I-I… please, I’m so close… I need to cum so fucking bad.” You were on the brink of tears from both the pleasure and the thought that if he denied you again, you would lose it. He removed your hand from your clit to replace it with his one that was just holding you down. “Whenever you're ready. I got you, baby.”

It was all him that was giving you pleasure now. His thumb circling your clit and his cock pounding you was too much for you to bear, and you came hard and fast. Your whole body was shaking with no control as the euphoria took over you. Pleasurable sounds you’ve never made before escaping your mouth like a broken record. Your hand keeping his hand on your clit so that he wouldn’t dare to move it. Your other grabbing your bouncing boob to hold onto. Your back arched up to the skies.

Bishop was in awe watching you lose it, “that’s a good pet, just like that.” He kept fucking you through the intense orgasm. With your fucked out state and your pussy clenching around him, begging for his cum almost had him spill his seed inside of you. But he wasn’t finished with you yet; he still had a long journey for you to go on. So he kept himself composed no matter how much he wanted to give in.

He gave you some time to calm down, which you needed after the state you were just in moments ago.

He pulled himself out of your sensitive hole, and you winched at the loss of him inside of you. His head came level with your pussy, and he licked a broad stripe up your slit to the top with the tip of his tongue flicking your sensitive bean. His movements made your breath hitch in your throat. “Taste good,” he said, smirking at you.

He slapped your sensitive pussy with the palm of his hand more than once, which made you let out a series of high-pitched whines. It wasn’t too hard, just enough to get a reaction out of you. “You're so cute when I slap your pretty pussy, and you whine for me.”

You weren’t sure what fucked you up the most. His deep and raspy voice that made you clenched around nothing or his big dick that had your head spinning. Both. It was a mixture of both, no doubt it.

“Come ride my face.” He laid down on the bed, waiting for you to sit in him. You were giddy as you got up from your position. You always loved to ride his face. His expert tongue making you come undone in a matter of minutes as his mustache and beard added some delicious stimulating as well with the way it burned in the best feeling ever against your skin.

He could see the excitement all over you as you hurried to be there. “Someone’s excited.” “I need your tongue, Bishop.” “Come here then and soak my beard.” Your clit was tingling at the image in your head.

You were always a little afraid that you would crush Bishop when you sat on him, but he always ensured you that you would never do such a thing. He was a strong man, and he could take whatever.

Your legs were placed on each side of his head. Your hands were holding onto the bed frame; it was needed for what Bishop was going to do to you. His hands held your hips tightly to keep control of you.

He licked his lips at the meal he was seeing. He hadn’t eaten for days, and he was hungry. He lowered you till your core was just millimeters in front of him. He kissed everywhere but your needy pussy. His beard tickled slightly with each kiss. “P-please don’t tease.”

Out of nowhere, a harsh slap was landed on one of your ass cheeks, which echoed through the room. The power of it made you let out a satisfied but painful sound. “Quiet! Let me enjoy my meal.”

He teased you some more, and you tried your best not to squirm in his grasp. Finally, after minutes of torture, he wrapped his lips where you needed it the most. He switched between licking and sucking on your pulsating nerve.

He let go, but you didn’t need to fear because he continued to lick, suck, bite, slurp and moan all over your core like a starved and dehydrated man. His beard added that extra something that had you climbing your release.

One of your hands tangled in his locks as your hips moved against his face. Both of his hands held your ass tightly to help you ride him. “Fuck… just l-like that d-daddy.”

“Let go. Let me taste you.” The vibrations from his mouth on your was what you needed to let yourself go. Your orgasm was again earth-shattering, and you held yourself up with the little strength you had left. You were almost sobbing with how spent and sensitive your whole body was.

He helped you ride your high while your whole body convulsed on top of him. Each kiss and lick to your now overstimulated clit had you spasm and whine each time.

When you looked down on him, he looked full and satisfied from his meal. His beard was glistening with your juices, and he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. “Best meal I’ve ever had.” He licked his lips to get all of your taste.

“Get on your hands and knees.” Your legs closed at the thought that he was going to fuck you hard and good now after you’ve already had two orgasms. You didn’t think you could make it. “I’m so sensitive… I don’t think I can, Bishop.” “It wasn’t a suggestion. It’s a demand. Do as I say, and I promise no more after.”

You lifted yourself from him. Legs wobbly as you moved in a doggy position. You rested on your elbows as you waited for him to do as he pleased. He got behind you in no time, and you could feel his hardness resting on you. He pushed you, so you laid completely down, only your hips and ass in the air for him; that was all he needed.

He spread your cheeks with his hands so that your two tight holes were on display for him. He spits his saliva on both of them, watching with hungry eyes as it trickled down on you. “Hmmm… which one should I take today? This one?” The tip of his cock teased your puckered hole, “or this one?” He asked, teasing your other hole.

“Whichever you want, daddy. They're both yours.” Your answer made him grab your ass hard, leaving nail prints on it. “I’ll take this one,” his head entered your quivering pussy, “I’ll save the other one for another day.”

You expected him to slam himself into you with no mercy, but even though Bishop was his dominant self tonight, he still cared about your well-being. So in his sweetest voice, he asked you if you were ok with continuing. “Do you want to continue, sweetheart? His hand softly caressing your bottom, waiting for your answer. As much as you were sensitive, you wanted to continue. To please Bishop but also yourself. You had one more in you. “Yes, I’m ready, Bishop.”

He didn’t need more than a confirmation from you to slam his hips hard against you. All traces of sweet and caring Bishop were out the window; your hungry predator was back. His roughness took you by surprise, and the force of him made you jolt forward.

You clutched the sheets in your grasp. The feeling of his big cock fucking you fast and hard had you screaming like the cock slut you were. With each stroke, he hit your sweet spot that made you see stars.

Your mouth was open, but no sound was coming out. Bishop, on the other hand, was praising you for being such a good slut taking him so well. “Atta, girl.”

Your head was buzzing; your hands were gripping the sheets for dear life to keep yourself grounded from his thrust. The only sounds in the room were intense clapping and his animalistic grunts and groans.

“Please, Bishop… please don’t stop… feels so good.” He took a fistful of your hair and pulled your face up from the mattress. You couldn’t help but bite your lips at his rough and dominant actions. Bishop was taking you like never before, and you were on cloud nine.

“You like this, huh? You like when I fuck your tight little pussy, don’t you? Take what belongs to be ah?” “Y-y-yes… all yours.” “That’s right. All mine. My fuck toy. Don’t forget. And don’t worry baby girl, I will never stop.” He pressed your face down into the mattress again so that his hands could grab onto your hips to fuck you nice and good for his liking. The palm of his hand leaving hard slaps on your ass once in a while, making it sting.

Your pussy clenched around his hardness, getting ready to let go any time now. You had no sense of time or place anymore as he fucked you. Your vision was blurry, and your ears were ringing. This orgasm may be the one that destroys you.

His dick violently twitched in you, begging to have its release. “Are you close?” You could only let out a weak sound indication that you were right on end. His fingers adding extra stimulation to your other hole and your clit was what brought you over the edge.

You blacked out from the intensity of the orgasm. Your body shook as your pussy violently convulsed. It was like no other thing you had ever felt before like your soul left your body. It was a mixture between pain and pleasure.

Bishop came right after you. His warm seed coating the inside of your walls as he filled you up completely. His mouth emitted whines like never before as he fucked your abused hole to the limit.

“Suck. A. Good. Pussy,” he growled in between thrusts. His hips didn’t stop moving until he had milked you both thoroughly.

Loud breathing was the only thing that could be heard as you both tried to calm down. His cock still deep inside your warmth. Both of you sweaty and warm at your activities. Your heartbeats trying to get back to a steady beat.

Once down from your highs, he pulled himself out. Both of you hissed at how sensitive you were.

He watched with satisfied eyes, his cum seeping out of your pussy. “Look at that.” He collected it with his cock and pushed it into you again. You squealed out at his dick, entering your overstimulated hole. “T-to much,” you tried to get out, trying your best to push his hips away from you.

He thought you had been a good pet tonight, so he did as you told, pulling himself out of your quiver flower. He kissed and caressed your bottom in hopes that it would help to soothe the pain he had inflicted upon you tonight. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You heard him shuffling somewhere. Most likely to the bathroom to get something to clean you both. You took a moment to reflect on what the hell had just happened tonight. This was the first time Bishop had gone all out like this. You didn’t mind it one bit. Sure it was tiring as hell, but you would like for this to be a thing once in a while.

He came back in two minutes. A warm washcloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other that he sat down on the nightstand.

He cleaned you both up. You winced once in a while when he brushed against your sensitive area. “There, all done.” Your body was too sore, so he helped you with laying on your back. A content sigh left your lips at your body, finally relaxing.

He came to your side immediately. Pulling you almost on top of him as his hand was caressing and loving your back. Your ear laid right on his heart, listening to the steady beats of it. A shower would be needed for both of you in the morning and a change of sheets, but right now, neither of you had the power to move.

“Bishop I-“ “Shhh… don’t say anything. I know you’re tired. We can both talk about it in the morning.” He was right. You were both so tired to have an important conversation like this. To talk about your relationship moving forward and interrogating him where in the hell that beast he was tonight had come from. It was better to wait to talk about all of this after a good night's sleep. “I guess you're right.” A yawn was proof that you were tired and ready for bed.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’ll keep you warm and safe.” His hand on your back, as well as his lips ever so softly lingering on your forehead, was what put you to sleep. Bishop followed soon after when he had made sure you were sound asleep.

To Be Continued...

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[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 19

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CHAPTER 19: ATTACCA

Music glossary:        Attacca - "To attack at once"; used as a direction in music at the end of a movement to begin the next without pause

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(Mood music: "The Conversation" - Pearl Django)

Being mere months away from graduating lycée meant that their group of friends didn’t have as many classes together, due to their diverse individual interests and talents. However, they always made sure to make time to hang out after school before their extracurricular activities began.

And thus, Adrien, Nino, and Alya made their way to the classroom where the art club gathered to meet up with Marinette. From there, Adrien would make his way to either fencing lessons or Chinese, depending on the day of the week. Marinette would join him on days when he had Chinese (as she’d become determined to master the language ever since her uncle visited from Shanghai a few years back), Alya would go to her journalism club, and Nino would travel to his part-time internship at the local recording studio.

“–and the backlogs just keep piling up!” Alya spoke as they walked, voice full of vigor and excitement. “I’ve had to recruit yet another mod to help me keep order in the forums! Especially since the Ladyblog has started going international and we’ve had to organize servers in different languages. You wouldn’t believe how crazy it’s gotten in there recently!”

“Dang, babe,” Nino interjected. “Sounds like things are super rough for you right now.”

“Not really, more busy than anything. Especially because I have that big research article due next week, there’s just not enough hours in the day to try to read everything that goes on in there. But I have my mods report to me daily, ‘cause I always like to stay on top of everything that goes on in the chats!”

“What’s gotten everyone so riled up in the Ladyblog lately?” Adrien chimed in. “I don’t recall it being nearly this busy last year.”

The trio entered the art club’s classroom and settled down at the table where Marinette sat, getting her various sketches organized. The art teacher was quite easy going, so they didn’t have to talk in hushed whispers and could come and go as they pleased.

“Well, to be honest, it’s because of Chat Noir,” Alya replied.

Adrien tried to contain his surprise. “R-really? What– uhhh, what do people have to say about him?”

He winced inwardly. He knew he shouldn’t ask. But curiosity got the better of him today. Maybe learning the news through the filter or Alya’s paraphrasing instead of reading the negative comments firsthand would lessen the sting of what people said about him.

Marinette whipped her head around at the mention of his alter ego. “Wait, what about Chat Noir?” she inquired.

“Girl,” Alya replied, her voice filled with renewed exuberance. “You would not believe how much we’ve had to censor and moderate all the inappropriate things people have been saying!”

Adrien flinched in his seat. “Wow… do people really hate him that much?” he asked, trying to conceal the dejection in his voice.

Alya busted out into loud guffaws. “Hate?! Dude, most people don’t hate him; they LOVE him! By ‘inappropriate’ comments, I mean the kinda stuff you wouldn’t want your grandma to catch you reading! There’s a whole giant section dedicated to his new fan club!” she said as she removed her glasses so she could wipe away the tears of laughter.

“WHAT?!” Adrien squawked in confusion, his face feeling hotter than the ovens back at the bakery. “A fan club??”

Marinette burst into uncontrollable snickering. “Has it really gotten that bad?!”

Nino joined in, “Bro! Adrien, I can’t believe you haven’t heard Alya rant about these rabid fans before! They call themselves the ‘Noir Nation’, and the kind of things they’ve been writing would make adult romance authors blush like schoolgirls!”

Alya nodded, thoroughly amused. “And that’s not including all the fanfiction people have been writing.”

“Wait– the WHAT?! There’s fanfiction?!!” Marinette gaped in shock, as if she’d been hit in the face with an enormous pie. “Alya, how come I never knew about this?!”

“Why? You wanna read em? Girl, you’ll get no judgment from me. If you wanna check ‘em out for yourself, just go check under the hashtag ‘Ladynoir’.”

Marinette stammered as her arms flailed in her bewilderment, accidentally knocking her phone off the table and onto the floor, her eyes bigger and rounder than Adrien had ever seen them. “They have a ship name?!” she screeched.

“Just mind the ratings though,” Alya advised. “Some of them can get pretty steamy. You wouldn’t want someone to catch you reading those in public,” she added with a wink.

Marinette continued to sputter incoherently. “NO, I am NOT gonna read it!! It would be different if they were fictional characters, but I could never read fanfiction about real people!”

Alya raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Mm-hmm… Sure.”

Marinette’s hands flew to her face, trying to hide how red her entire face had gotten, and released a long squeak that resembled a hamster on helium. As shocked as Adrien was about these rather unexpected news, seeing Marinette’s over-the-top reaction brought a wide grin to his face and he busted out laughing.

He bent over to retrieve Marinette’s phone, since she was too busy being mortified to notice it had fallen to the floor. As he was about to hand it back, the screen lit up and Adrien saw the lockscreen wallpaper: it was the same photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir that he himself had saved earlier that day. He smiled, not exactly sure what to make of it, but finding it adorable that she’d liked the photo enough to set it as her lockscreen.

He tapped her shoulder, waiting for her to respond. She emerged from behind her impromptu hand shield and turned her head, then her eyes widened once again as soon as she saw what Adrien was showing her. She jolted straight up, stiff as a board, and her eyes met his, cheeks turning tomato red. He winked at her, amused about this little secret between them, and handed back her phone without a word.

Marinette accepted it with a meek-sounding, “Thanks,” looking like she wanted to explain the photo, but not able to do so unless she wanted Alya and Nino to find out that she was potentially a… ahem– “Ladynoir” shipper.

Switching the conversation to something else (which Marinette seemed to be eternally grateful for), the group chatted until it became time for them to scatter to their next destinations.

With a wave, Adrien exited the classroom and headed towards fencing practice, one of the few activities he decided to stick with despite not being forced to participate. Fencing, along with Chinese lessons, were not only enjoyable, but were also quite useful. Sadly, he didn’t have access to a piano anymore, so he wasn’t able to pursue that hobby for the time being. Hopefully later down the line, when things had settled down and he’d found his own place to live, he’d be able to finance one.

Thinking about the future had become an exciting pastime instead of an anxiety-inducing one, and it was all thanks to his friends and those he cared about. He smiled as he reached the door to the locker rooms, continuing to daydream of what was to come.

(Mood music: "Recollection 3" - Shirō Sagisu (BLEACH OST, "The Diamond Dust Rebellion")

Adrien finished getting dressed for fencing, his head still blissfully floating in the clouds. He stored his belongings into his assigned locker, shutting it with a loud clang, which echoed through the empty room.

Huh...? Empty?

He swiveled his head around, surprised that there was no one beside him. He stood up and began walking down the large room, peeking down the other locker rows looking for his classmates; but there was nobody.

Where was everyone? There’s no way that every single one of them was running late. Had his lessons been cancelled and he’d somehow missed a text message or email? He began heading back towards his locker to check his phone for any schedule changes.

Before he reached his destination, however, heavy thudding footsteps broke the eerie silence. Adrien whipped his body around to greet whoever they belonged to.

The owner of those footsteps was one of the last people Adrien expected to meet here.

“Gaspard?!”

Adrien stood agape, face to face with his old bodyguard, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years; not since he’d resigned and moved out of the country. Nathalie had mentioned that in his resignation letter, Gaspard said that he’d become involved in an overseas business venture involving the market of rare action figures. Nevertheless, Adrien couldn’t help but suspect that his father’s ill temper and poor treatment of their employees was the true reason for his departure.

Adrien’s first reaction was surprise and joy, and he rushed forward to greet and embrace him. However, as he approached and got a better look at the man’s face, Adrien’s mood instantly morphed into confusion and apprehension. There was something odd about his eyes.

Something wasn’t right. Why was Gaspard here? And why now?

He came to a halt about a meter before reaching him. An oppressive weight seemed to press in all around him, and he had to suppress a shiver. “Wait. Gaspard, did–” he gulped, “–did my father send you?”

His old bodyguard did not reply, but took a heavy step towards him. Adrien stepped back.

“Please… I can’t go back. I live somewhere else now, and I’m very happy there. Whatever he told you about the situation, it’s a lie.”

His bodyguard continued to approach him, his stare vacant and unsettling.

Fighting the urge to panic, he pleaded, “You don’t have to do this. If he’s offered you compensation, I can match it; it’ll just take me a bit of time. But we can work something out, right?? For old time’s sake?”

He continued walking backwards until he bumped into something firm, but it wasn’t a wall; it was another person. Before he could turn around, they grabbed him by the shoulders, detaining him and preventing him from running away.

He was about to shout for help when something sharp jabbed him on the side of the neck, injecting a cold liquid. Adrien’s eyes grew wide in terror.

Shit.

Adrien swore as he jerked away, elbowing whoever was behind him and managing to break free. Rubbing at the spot where the syringe had stabbed him, he glanced back to take a look at his other assailant, only to see... another Gaspard?

Why are there two of him??

This was wrong. Gaspard didn’t have a twin; he knew that for a fact. He’d worked for the Agrestes ever since Adrien was a toddler and was too young to even pronounce his name correctly (hence the nickname “Gorille”, which stuck around for years afterwards). Additionally, there was something uncanny, otherworldly, even, about the way these two men looked and moved.

He shook himself out of his stupor. He didn’t have time to contemplate any possible explanations. He had to get out of there fast.

He sprinted towards the exit, but only managed to travel a few paces before he lost his footing and tripped. He fell to the ground hard, almost hitting his head on a nearby bench. As he struggled to get up, he realized that his fingers and toes had already gone numb.

Not good.

Time was running out. Adrenaline coursed through him and, with a grunt, he hefted himself to his feet and scrambled towards the exit, as fast as he could despite a heavy limp. Though his heart was hammering and his legs felt like they were filled with sand, he pushed himself, concentrating on reaching the door.

After taking a few steps, however, he realized that even if he did manage to exit the locker room, the area beyond was an open courtyard. Meaning he wasn’t going to be able to reach someplace safe before getting caught. He had no choice but to transform into Chat Noir, and hopefully Plagg’s powers and strength could help him escape and find somewhere to hide.

He’d scarcely uttered the first syllable in the transformation phrase when he was tackled to the ground. A giant hand swiftly covered his mouth and Adrien felt his hands get bound together with thick zip ties behind his back. A muffled scream of writhing frustration made its way up his throat as his limbs became more and more useless by the second.

No… This can’t be happening! Please, this can’t be how it all ends!

Just when his life had finally gained a semblance of normalcy and he’d found happiness again, it would get ripped away and he would disappear without a trace, leaving everyone to wonder what had happened to him. Leaving his friends to think that Gabriel had pulled him from school and they would never see him again. Leaving Ladybug to wonder if Chat had abandoned her forever. Leaving her to fight Hawkmoth alone. Again.

He couldn’t let that happen. He thrashed and struggled as furiously as he could, fighting the feelings of overwhelming helplessness that threatened to consume him. Nearing despair, he was too distracted to notice Plagg phrasing through the wall, away from the skirmish, in search of the only person who could save him.

(Mood music: "Run" - Ludovico Einaudi)

Marinette fidgeted with her pencil, her feet wiggled and bounced under her desk. She didn’t understand; when she’d arrived at the art club, her head had been filled with inspiration and ideas that she’d been excited to draw and execute. However, at the moment, her mind was filled with noise and disquietude.

Having had enough, she excused herself to visit the restroom. Once she’d walked far enough from the classroom, she opened her purse to talk to Tikki about her current dilemma.

“It’s the same feeling as last night, Tikki! Except that would mean one of three possibilities. Option A.) It’s nothing and I’m going crazy. And— don’t give me that look, Tikki! I can see what you’re thinking and I don’t have time for your cheeky sass right now!” The kwami snickered while Marinette cleared her throat and continued, “Option B.) that Chat is here, at this school, which is impossible because his school’s on the other side of the city, that’s why he always leaves the house super early for his long commute.”

Tikki opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something, but then didn’t (...or couldn’t?).

Marinette resumed, “Or, C.) that my–– what do I even call it? My ‘Spidey sense’??–– that it’s got a long distance mode, and Chat is all the way across Paris and he’s in trouble! But what am I supposed to do about that from here?! I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking!”

Tikki shrugged. “Follow your instincts, Marinette. There’s no harm in taking a quick look around the school, right?”

Marinette groaned. “UGH! It doesn’t make sense!! Am I going to get interrupted like this all the time from now on?” She shook her head resolutely. “No. I can’t just go off on random field trips every single time I feel a random fit of anxiety. I’m sure it’s just leftover jitters from last night. I’m supposed to call Master Fu after school anyway; he can help me figure everything out. I’m just gonna go back to class and forget about it.”

Tikki frowned, not quite convinced, but deciding not to press further.

Marinette made her way back to the classroom in a frustrated huff. But as her hand reached to turn the handle, the feelings of danger and urgency multiplied tenfold. Without a word, she sprinted away in the opposite direction, not even knowing where she was running to, only knowing she had to get there immediately.

She reached the large common area of the school downstairs. Her head whipped around, frantically searching for something, anything. In her haste, she didn’t notice a small black creature zoom into her open purse.

A few moments later, she felt a frantic tugging at her shirt from below.

“Marinette!! Over there! Check the locker room, quick!!!” Tikki whisper-screamed as she peeked outside the purse, her tone uncharacteristically frantic.

Marinette nodded, then sprinted to the locker room.

“Wait! You should transform first!” Tikki added.

No time!

“Marinette, wait!!”

Despite Tikki’s protests, Marinette raced towards the double doors, tackling them open.

Three sets of eyes landed on her as she skidded to a halt, but only one pair consumed her entire attention. She gasped in horror, hands flying to her face as she stared at what was occurring in front of her. Adrien let out a desperate, muffled scream urging her to run.

His panicked voice snapped her out of her dazed shock; but instead of running, she stood her ground, eyes darting back and forth across the area searching for something useful. The room was remarkably barren except for a lone broom a short distance away from her. She grabbed it and leaped towards the closest attacker (the one holding Adrien down), swinging it like a baseball bat.

The man didn’t even try to avoid the hit; the broomstick merely bounced off the side of his face where Marinette had hit him. She frowned in confusion, then tried hitting him again, bringing the stick down on the top of his head like an axe.

SNAP.

The end of the broom flew off, and Marinette stared in shock at the broken broomstick.

“What the hell are you?!” Marinette exclaimed, shifting her grip on the shortened wooden stub.

She pounced at the second bodyguard, bringing her weapon down in a stabbing motion; but he swatted at her hand, disarming her. She yelped in pain, leaping backwards to get some distance between them.

She was outmatched. The only strategy available was to use their own size against them. With a feint to the side, she shot at his legs for a takedown, hoping to catch him off balance. He called her bluff and shoved her backwards with his giant palm, then kneed her in the stomach.

Winded from the impact, Marinette doubled over with a gasping wheeze, fighting with all her might to keep herself from collapsing onto the ground. She forced herself upright and attacked again. With a clumsy jerk, she lunged forward, swinging wild punches at her opponent. The shots connected but his expression barely changed; it was like beating a breathing punching bag.

The bodyguard backhanded Marinette across the face. Pain shooting across her cheek, she staggered, almost losing her balance. In her daze, she watched helplessly as the man reared his arm back. There was no chance to dodge. His fist connected with her abdomen, delivering a liver shot that shut down her entire body. She crumpled to the floor as if boneless. She tried to call out Adrien’s name, but her mouth merely opened in a silent scream.

Marinette could hear Adrien’s distressed screaming, but it sounded distant, like they were underwater. The edges of her vision grew black and fuzzy, the entire room dissolving around her. She had to consciously force her lungs to inhale, but couldn’t fill them all the way, as if a boulder had been placed on top of her chest.

Faintly, she felt herself getting picked up off the ground and carried away over someone’s shoulder. Disoriented and semi-blinded, the sudden movement and rough jostling made her head spin and gave her vertigo. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out.

A few moments later, they stopped moving, and she heard a door burst open. Where were they? Before she could gather her senses, she was in the air, thrown several meters away, landing with a hard thud. A sharp pain traveled down her body as she rolled into the wall across them. The shriek that tried to escape her throat emerged as a strained, shallow whine.

The man stomped out, leaving her alone in the room. “Stop…!” she rasped out, managing to tilt her neck upwards, head pounding.

The bodyguard slammed the door shut, followed by a bang and a clattering sound that could only mean he’d broken the doorknob of whatever room she was in.

Marinette's vision became more and more blurred. At the verge of losing consciousness, she fought to keep her eyes open as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

No, she couldn’t pass out! She had to save Adrien! Stay awake, Marinette, stay awake!!

She bit down on her lip hard, focusing on the sharp sting, on the swelling that was already forming around her right eye, forcing herself to feel the pain her body was in. At this moment, feeling pain was better than falling unconscious. She concentrated on her breathing, slowly regaining her senses.

She reached down to open her purse and get Tikki’s help… only to be met with emptiness. Panic settled in her gut as she realized that sometime during the skirmish, the purse had slipped off her shoulder. She sat up, slowly, so she wouldn’t risk feeling faint again from the change in positions.

She squinted, adjusting her eyesight to the darkness of the room. It seemed to be some sort of supply closet. After a failed few attempts to stand, she crawled towards the door instead, careful not to bump into the crates and shelves that filled the area.

The girl eyed the broken doorknob wearily. She was pretty proficient at lockpicking and breaking into things, but not as good at breaking out. Her only hope was that Tikki would be able to find her… if she was even nearby.

She swore to herself. Why had she rushed in and attacked two grown ass men (who, incidentally, may or may not be supernatural to boot!) instead of hiding and creating a strategy?! Now she was useless, Tikki was gone, and Adrien was surely on his way to get auctioned to the highest bidder in the criminal black market and ransomed off for an enormous sum. Great job, Marinette. Adrien’s been abducted and it’s all your fault.

Gathering all the determination she could muster, she tried to call out for help. But her voice was still too hoarse, and only a weak croak came out. She clenched her fists, grumbling irritably. Time for a different approach. Somehow, she needed to make noise.

After a brief search, she found a hard, metallic object that she could use to hammer on the door. She tested it out; it was surprisingly effective. She doubled her efforts, making as big a racket as possible. Hopefully, it would only be a matter of time before somebody heard her, let her out, and she could go find Adrien.

She couldn’t let anything else happen to another loved one. Not again.

–––––

I'M REEEAAAAALLY SORRY FOR THAT CLIFFHANGER JSHDKFJHSKDF ᕕ(╯°д°)ᕗ  I tried splitting up the sections differently but it didn't really flow as well.

But the next chapter is almost done, so I'll have it ready by next weekend!!

[rvspberry]

Idk if I’m gonna end up posting this on AO3 because it’s very different from what I usually write.

But below the cut is some Johnny Lawrence sexuality crisis angst with a happy ending if you feel like it. (Heavy Christian themes and Lawrusso ending ahead.)

He was righteous, on high, the Almighty personified. Forgiving, and gracious in victory, and good through and through. Set his mind to something and he could make the whole world come alive.

That’s how Johnny felt at the Tournament, at least, when the entire crowd swarmed the floor and lifted LaRusso onto their shoulders, and Johnny snagged the first place trophy. Handed it up like an offering, a sacrificial lamb — all that Johnny had at stake, all that he’d lost, given freely and openly to this holy being.

The crowd grew louder. Johnny called out, “You’re alright, LaRusso. Good match.”

Got a pained, “Thanks,” in return.

He’d touched someone holy and lived to tell the tale.

~

Once Johnny is at Bobby’s house that night, since Sid and Laura flew to Miami for the week before Christmas, he asks Bobby to pray with him.

“You okay, Johnny?”

Johnny glances up to find worried blue eyes looking over at him, sizing him up — no, not quite. Measuring him, trying to gauge Johnny for what no one could see. Bobby’s eyes are such a different blue than Johnny's, clear and crisp but never cold. Johnny wonders if Bobby sees anything, if Johnny shows anything.

“I just…” Johnny rasps, gripping the glass of water in hand again and taking a hesitant sip. They told him at the hospital that he’d have to rest. Asked if he wanted to press charges, but Johnny just shook his head. “I need some guidance.”

“No better place to look to than to Jesus,” Bobby agrees, reaching out to take Johnny’s hands. He closes his eyes, and Johnny pauses for a brief moment, body going stiff, before he follows suit. Takes a deep breath as Bobby begins. “Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.”

Daniel.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” Bobby continues.

Johnny squeezes his eyes tighter and tries not to let his grip tighten, too.

“Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Please forgive me. Please. Daniel. I’m sorry.

“And lead us not into temptation—”

Daniel’s eyes. His grin, his mouth, his lips. Daniel’s body. The confident smirk when he gets up into Johnny’s face.

“—but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory,” Bobby finishes, squeezing Johnny’s hands. Johnny blinks his eyes open, jaw clenched, to see Bobby giving him a small smile. “Forever and ever. Amen.”

“Amen,” Johnny repeats weakly, clenching his teeth against the urge to cry. To sob.

To throw himself onto the floor and mourn the loss of a life he’d had for years now, the life he’d fought so hard for. The life of a champion, of a winner, the life of a kid from Encino Hills. The life of someone normal, a leader, head dog even though he came into this life late, no rules established, flying blind and feeling his way into his place.

“You’re sure you’re okay, man?”

“I’m not,” Johnny chokes out. Hangs his head.

There are too many thoughts in his head, too much guilt and shame, and he can’t focus on one without the other flaring up to take his attention. Back and forth, back and forth, between Kreese almost killing him and Daniel’s sensei saving him and Daniel winning the match, to needlessly tormenting Daniel all semester and making a bigger ass of himself each and every time. Over and over, like it was on a loop.

“Do you want to pray again?” Bobby asks, voice dropping lower. “Sometimes it helps. The… repetition. Try to focus on the words this time. Focus on God. Let the spirit take you.”

Take me where? Johnny thinks, but he just tightens his hands around Bobby’s and nods.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…”

~

When Bobby leaves at the end of the summer to go to college in Oregon, a special school for religious studies, he leaves Johnny with his new number and a prayer book.

“If things get hard, turn to God,” he reminds Johnny. Pats Johnny’s back while they hug tightly. Johnny hasn’t been apart from Bobby since they became best friends at thirteen, both newly enrolled in Cobra Kai. “God has a plan for all of us, and you can find all your answers in the Lord, man. You just have to be open to hearing them even when they’re not the answers you want.”

Johnny keeps the prayer book. Says a prayer every night. Calls Bobby once a week, like clockwork, and stops drinking. He gets kicked out of Sid’s house when he turns 18 in July, gets a job as a handyman, then starts apprenticing for a carpenter, then starts working construction. It’s hard work but it’s honest work.

~

Every time his eyes turn to one of his coworkers, when they catch on the sweat and grime smeared over their muscles, or the curve of their ass, or the line of their jaw, Johnny recites one of those prayers in his head.

Dear Lord, please give me strength when I am weak, courage when I am afraid, love when I feel forsaken, wisdom when I feel foolish, comfort when I am alone, hope when I feel rejected, and peace when I am in turmoil. Amen.

Every time he gets asked out for drinks by his well-meaning colleagues, he politely declines and spends ten minutes praying in his car after his shift is over, hands blistered, muscles aching.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among sinners and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Every night, Johnny lays in bed and freestyles his prayers. God needs to know, he probably already knows, but he needs to know that Johnny doesn’t want to be like this. He wants to change. He wants answers. He wants to be open to them, just like Bobby told him.

~

“Go out tonight,” Bobby laughs when Johnny calls him on a Saturday at his usual time. “Just get out and have some fun. Go to a movie. Buy yourself dinner, whatever. Go meet someone. You’re just working and sleeping. You need to live a little, Johnny.”

Is that what God wants me to do? Johnny thought to himself. To go out and find a woman to settle down with? Is that God’s plan?

It’s what Johnny’s supposed to do, right?

“Okay, okay,” Johnny groans into the phone, ready to slam it back onto the receiver when Bobby whoops in elated triumph. “Some good, clean fun. Fitting for the best friend of a pastor’s son.”

~

Johnny goes to the movies. The new sequel to Alien, aptly titled ‘Aliens,’ looks halfway decent. Definitely not a good clean movie, but Johnny can live a little. It’s on its last leg, only playing the earlier showings, so Johnny snags the ticket since he figures he can be mostly alone that way. He loiters in the lobby trying to decide between popcorn or an overpriced box of candy to go with his soda. The bored teen behind the counter pops her gum and rolls her eyes as she waits for him to make up his mind.

He doesn’t fidget as he looks in the glass case, even as much as he wants to. It’s been conditioned out of him.

“Back straight, shoulders down, chin up, Mr. Lawrence.”

“Hey, can I get a large popcorn please?” comes a voice from beside him.

Johnny glances over, shaggy hair whipping around his face, and spots the one person he thought he’d never see again. Daniel LaRusso looks the same as he did before — a little taller, maybe, his long limbs filled out a little more, but still the shrimpy kid who kicked his ass.

Same eyes, same voice, same body.

Same mouth.

Dear Lord, please give me strength—

“Johnny? Johnny Lawrence?!” Daniel’s words cut through his prayer.

Johnny inhales sharply. He has to control himself. Give me the strength when I am weak, courage when I—

“Holy shit, man, look at you,” Daniel laughs, tapping Johnny’s bicep tellingly. A year-plus in construction had done wonders for his body, and his arms in particular. “Like a brick shithouse. Are you on steroids?”

“No, I work construction.” Johnny doesn’t know why his voice sounds so rough. He clears his throat and tries again. “Hi, LaRusso. Small world meeting you here, I guess.”

“Yeah, man! You here with anyone?” Daniel glances around, as if trying to pin someone else in the lobby to Johnny, but there was no one to match him up with. No one to match up Daniel with, either.

“No. You?”

“Flying solo today,” Daniel croons, running his hands down his chest. Johnny blushes and looks up at the ceiling.

Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee—

“What movie are you seeing?” Daniel asks, taking the tub of popcorn from the teen and passing a bill over the counter. He snagged a handful and popped a few butter-soaked pieces into his mouth.

“Uh…” Johnny glances down at his ticket. “Aliens.”

“No way! Me too!” Daniel says around chewing the popcorn. He pauses and looks at Johnny with his head cocked curiously. “You wanna watch it together?”

~

O, my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You. I detest all my sins because of your just punishments, but most of all because they offend you, My God, who are all good and worthy of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen.

~

The movie theater is empty. There’s butter on Daniel’s bottom lip, shining in the dimly lit room. Johnny licks it off in the black silence of the end credits.

Kissing Daniel feels like coming home. It feels like touching something divine, and Johnny’s stained gold in all the places they touch.

Is this God’s plan? Johnny asks himself. Daniel’s fingers tug at his hair, nails scraping gently over his scalp. Johnny pulls Daniel across the seat and into his lap as he swallows Daniel’s moan.

Below Johnny’s hands, Daniel feels like an answer.

[k-s-morgan]

Will’s vs. Hannibal’s Ways of Expressing Love

The fact that Hannibal loves Will and is in love with him is openly stated in the show several times. Will’s feelings, on the other hand, are more ambiguous, which is why some viewers often doubt whether Hannibal’s love is reciprocated. I think that exploring the ways these two men experience and react to love can explain the varying degrees of their openness about it.

I’ll put TLDR right here: Hannibal is more open about himself and his feelings, including love, hence he doesn’t have many challenges with admitting it. Will is closed off, stiff, and emotionally repressed, so he expresses his feelings in a much more subtle way.

Let’s start with Hannibal. Details about his past are scarce, but we know that he admits to loving two people throughout his life, his sister and Will.

E3 of S3.

*Bedelia: What your sister made you feel was beyond your conscious ability to control or predict … I would suggest what Will Graham makes you feel is not dissimilar. A force of mind and circumstance.*    

*Hannibal: Love.*

Undoubtedly, Hannibal’s love for Mischa was traumatic and unhealthy. He loved her so much that he ate a part of her body after she was killed, devastated by this loss. But it was still love that made him feel all the related emotions, so Hannibal has some experience with it. From what we know of him, he has a very broad mind. He despises limitations and overcomes them, and he is not ashamed of who he is. He isn’t embarrassed to cry in the opera or to be the first to stand up and applaud; he delights in stereotypically ‘feminine’ hobbies like cooking and clothes selection; he draws fan-art and openly expresses his admiration when it’s due. For this reason, Hannibal doesn’t have many problems with expressing love either.  

Upon meeting Will, he is immediately drawn to him. He sees him as his potential partner and decides he wants to try and build a family with him as early as E2 of S1. That’s when he starts planting the idea of Abigail being their shared daughter in Will’s mind. He does the same to Abigail, urging her to see him and Will as her parents, even giving her shrooms to evoke the desired associations (unsuccessfully since Will doesn’t come to dinner). So, Hannibal acknowledged his pull/infatuation with Will from the very start, and he acted on it right away.

It’s not 100% love at this point, but Hannibal still easily follows his emotions. He doesn’t stop to consider how strange it is to want a family with a man he just met; he doesn’t agonize over the idea of how his life has more risks now that he allows another human being to know him. When these feelings progress at the end of S1/start of S2, Hannibal is finally taken aback. While he never planned to leave Will in prison and it was a part of his plan, he still didn’t expect to miss him so much — he admits it to Bedelia, looking forlorn, in E1 of S2. He repeatedly pines for Will by sitting in front of his chair at the time of his supposed appointment, glancing at the clock despite knowing Will is not going to come. This is a shift to an actual love, but Hannibal still doesn’t fight it. On the contrary, he embraces it, and he spends the entire S2 doing repeatedly romantic gestures for Will. Namely:

1) Protects Abigail to reunite Will with her later.

2) Shares a part of himself he doesn’t seem to have ever shared with anyone else. He talks to Will about Mischa, reveals his views on murder and God, acknowledges he cared about Abigail, and shows vulnerability. He shares his teacup ritual with him, which is something precious and deeply personal.

3) He digs up fake Freddie’s corpse and decorates it as a way of courting Will (as directly said by Alana).  

4) He draws a fan-art of himself and Will as Achilles and Patroclus.

5) He is ready to abandon his well-established life in Baltimore and reputation to run away with Will. In Hannibal’s view, no one truly suspects him and there is no evidence against him, but Will is in danger. So he’s willing to discard everything he’s been building for 20 years for him.

Finally, he calls Will a loved one more or less directly in E13 of S2 (in fact, he implies that they both love each other).

*Hannibal: Do you know what an imago is, Will? … An imago is an image of a loved one buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.*

*Will: An ideal.*

*Hannibal: The concept of an ideal... I have a concept of you, just as you have a concept of me.*

Will hurts him with his betrayal, and Hannibal still finds himself unable to kill him. He is openly crying in the finale, admitting how Will hurt him, breaks his (and his own) heart by killing Abigail, and flees to Europe to start a new life. But things don’t go as he hoped they would. Bedelia is not a worthy substitute, and Hannibal is increasingly slipping into a self-destructive state because of his love for Will. He kills Anthony, who was an improved copy of Will, and turns him into a Valentine heart for him. Again, this is a very explicit and open emotional action. Hannibal doesn’t hide his feelings. He’s an emotional wreck with Bedelia in E3, and as they are talking about Will, he admits he’s in love with him.

*Hannibal: You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.*

Bedelia points out his self-destructiveness.

*Bedelia: You're going to get caught. It's already been set into motion … I know exactly how I will be navigating my way out of whatever it is I’ve gotten myself into. Do you?*

After Hannibal keeps spiraling and kills Sogliato, she adds: *You're drawing them to you, aren't you? All of them.*  

Hannibal gets so self-destructive over Will that he lets Jack beat himself almost to death, not even attempting to fight him. The first words he says to Will after they reunite in E6 are:

*Hannibal: If I saw you every day forever, Will, I would remember this time.*

He’s a romantic. The courtship, the Valentine heart, the romance — Hannibal did have some struggles, but overall, he accepts these feelings and isn’t afraid to act on them.

When Will pulls a knife in E6, Hannibal classifies it as another betrayal. This is where he decides to kill and eat him in the hope to put an end to this misery (which is what he and Bedelia discussed back in E3). However, even blinded by another heartbreak, Hannibal tries to save Will at the same time. He knows the police are coming and he puts off the moment of sawing for as long as he can, first fussing over Will and his wound, then waiting for Jack, then doing everything slowly as hell.

Everything changes in E7, when Hannibal faces the real risk of losing Will and comes to terms with the fact that a hope of life with him is better than life without him. So Hannibal carries Will home bridal-style, takes care of him, waits for him to wake up and writes formulas to reverse time. He directly tells Will that Will won, and that he, Hannibal, is at Will’s mercy.

*Hannibal: Your memory palace is building. It's full of new things. It shares some rooms with my own. I've discovered you there. Victorious.*

He gives himself up, sacrificing the freedom he’s been fighting for back in E2 finale, in the hope that one day, Will is going to come back to him. After this, Hannibal is all about Will, with all his heart. Throughout the second half of S3, he says things like, *“I gave you a child. You are family, Will. Was it good to see me?”*, etc. He agrees to risk his life by agreeing to Will’s plan, knowing he’s planning something but not knowing what and if he’d die in the process. In E13, Hannibal says:

*Hannibal: "No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend"* and shields Will from the bullet. Later, he allows Will to push them both down, and he stays with him afterward.

Conclusion: Hannibal is very accepting of himself, so he doesn’t undergo severe challenges on the path to acknowledging what he feels for Will. He knows what love feels like because he felt it for Mischa before, so he embraces loving Will pretty quickly, even though he doesn’t know how to best approach it at times. That’s why we get direct and explicit confirmation of his feelings several times.

Now, on to Will.

Unlike with Hannibal, there is no evidence that Will has ever experienced love before (at least love for people). We know he had a father and was lonely as a child.

E4 of S1.

*Will: We were poor. I followed my father from the boat yards in Biloxi and Greenville to lake boats on Erie.*

*Hannibal: Always the new boy at school? Always the stranger?*

*Will: Always.*

His choice of words indicates that his relationship with his father wasn’t all that good (for instance, *I followed my father* instead of *My father and I had to…*). So, it doesn’t look like Will ever had meaningful connections. More than that, he says:

*Will: There’s something so foreign about family. Like an ill-fitting suit. Never connected to the concept.*

We can suggest that he doesn’t know what love is or how it feels like. From E1, we know he isolates himself because he hates himself for who he is: he understands he’s different, that there is darkness in him, but he desperately tries to subdue it and deny this fact. He’s rude, twitchy, and unhappy, but like Hannibal, he understands the extent of his loneliness only upon meeting him. That’s when he tries forming relationships with others.

Will’s relationships with Alana and Abigail are a good indication of his problems with love. He wants to be with Alana because he needs to feel normal. In 99% of cases, he remembers about her only when she comes to seek him out first. He kisses her for the first time at the moment of particular vulnerability, fearing that he’s finally losing his mind (in E8). When Hannibal calls him out on it, Will doesn’t deny it and semi-nods. He actually had to agree with it verbally according to the script.

*Will: I feel unstable.*

*Hannibal: That’s why you kissed her. A clutch for balance.*

*Will: Because I’m losing mine.*

So, it’s not that Will feels romantic love for Alana — he uses her because he desperately needs to feel like everyone else. Alana is a pretty, smart, normal woman who fits this goal perfectly. He doesn’t allow himself to be genuine with her unlike he does with Hannibal, to whom he opens up.

Will confesses to Hannibal that he loved killing Hobbs in E2, which got him down and made him panic. Hannibal supports him, and Will keeps coming back to him. He talks about everything important with Hannibal, opening parts of himself that he guards from everyone else. Will asks Hannibal to look after his dogs as early as E4 — he doesn’t have other friends, and he’s already focused on Hannibal. He buys into an idea of having a family with him and Abigail, which is amazing for Will, who has just said he could never relate to the concept of family.

When Will buys a gift for Abigail in the same E4 and freaks out, Hannibal asks him:

*Hannibal: Feeling paternal, Will?*

Will’s reaction is instant and defensive:

*Will: Aren’t you?*

Hannibal easily says “yes”, which disarms Will. This is a great contrast between them: Hannibal isn’t afraid to talk and acknowledge his feelings while Will is embarrassed of them and shies away from them. In fact, this is a repeat of their conversation in E2.

*Hannibal: You saved Abigail Hobbs' life. You also orphaned her. It comes with certain emotional obligations.*

*Will: You were there. You saved her life, too. Do you feel obligated?*

Again, Will deflects. He’s wary of emotions, especially of admitting them out loud.

Will shows a hint of romantic interest in Hannibal in E7. He brings him a bottle of wine out of blue, but unfortunately, he stumbles upon the party Hannibal is preparing. Hannibal invites him to stay, but Will says he won’t be good company. He’s shy and awkward, smiling nervously and dropping his gaze in embarrassment. Then we have this lovely line:

*Will: I’ve got a date with the Chesapeake Ripper.*

So, in S1, Will makes considerable emotional progress. He realizes he wants a family after all, and while he makes several half-hearted attempts to court Alana, he’s mostly focused on Hannibal and Abigail. He opens himself up to Hannibal, receives official guardianship over Abigail with him, arguably flirts with Hannibal (like in the wine scene above), and covers up murder to protect their family. But then Hannibal betrays him. Will doesn’t know his reasons yet, but this betrayal plunged him into darkness, bitterness, and new stage of emotional repression. It’s worth mentioning another point of Abigail here: in the end, Will doesn’t know her. He spoke to her only several times, and even fewer times were genuine. He loves the idea of her, and this idea was introduced by Hannibal, not by Abigail’s presence. It’s Hannibal who forced Will to confront his need to love and be loved.  

In S2, Will is incredibly conflicted. He acknowledges to Hannibal that he hurt him, tries to kill him via Matthew, but when he recognizes that Hannibal wants him as a friend (as spoken in E7), his attitude changes. Will doesn’t plan to forgive him, he’s still angry at Hannibal for killing Abigail (which is his biggest conflict, as evident from his talks with Hannibal himself and Freddie), but now, he can’t bring himself to harm or betray Hannibal.

He gets his first chance in E7, after being released from prison. He threatens Hannibal with a gun and has a perfect chance to make him pay, but he doesn’t. Instead, he conspires with Jack and decides to cultivate co-dependency, creating an environment where only he “and the fish exist” (E8). What does Will do to start? He makes himself physically attractive, grooming and dressing prettily. It’s a seduction on all levels, and Will plans to use emotions to hurt Hannibal back. At the same time, Will admits to being confused over what he feels for Hannibal.

E8 of S2.

*Will: I envy you your hate. Makes it much easier when you know how to feel.*

E9 of S2 (talking about trying to kill Hannibal with Margot).

*Margot: Did he have it coming?*

*Will: What do you think?*

*Margot: I can't say that I know.*

*Will: Neither can I.*

He spends the rest of the season lying to both Hannibal and Jack, unsure whose side to choose, too lost in his own feelings to make sense of them. At the same time, he has a dream where Hannibal calls him beloved in E9. It shows that Will contemplates the idea of love in relation to Hannibal. In E10, Will tries to fantasize about Alana as he’s having sex with Margot. However, he sees the image of Wendigo near the fireplace, Wendigo who he’s used to associating with Hannibal. Two interesting things (copied from my other meta): first, Will actually sees Hannibal’s room and consequently, he sees himself in it (or he sees their rooms united). Second, he sees the Wendigo near Hannibal’s fireplace. Fireplace has many meanings, including passion, sexuality, home, family, and resurrection. It emphasizes the sexual and romantic subtext of this uniquely shot scene, where people destined to be together have sex with the wrong partners. Will’s vision begins to contract, focusing on Wendigo: he is having an orgasm at this very moment, imagining the Wendigo’s face very close, approaching him. Still through the misty eyes, he tries to focus on Alana again, but his gaze moves up to Wendigo above her, as if he can’t help himself. He and Hannibal reach orgasm first, with Alana and Margot following them. So, Will dragged Hannibal into his sex fantasy. It’s both symbolic and physical: he tried to imagine Alana just like he tried to have a relationship with her before, in S1, out of his desire to be normal. But his attention is inevitably drawn to Hannibal, who’s his “real deal”.

Based on this scene, it’s underlined once again how Will struggles with emotions. Even in the safety of his own mind, in his own fantasy, he tries to think of Alana but still ends up with Hannibal. Will is always fighting himself and who he is. He refuses to accept his darkness just as he refuses to admit he loves Hannibal. It’s the essence of who he is, denial is his second name.

Among the important moments, there are Will’s words to Hannibal:

*Will: You are right. We are just alike. You are as alone as I am. And we are both alone without each other.*

So, Will accepts the bond with Hannibal, and at this stage, he even has the courage to voice some of his emotional thoughts. His progress is slow, but it’s there.

In E11, Will has a nightmare. He sees a burning corpse of ‘Freddie’ in a wheelchair, a symbol of his betrayal of Hannibal, and he hears his own increasing screaming. It’s easy to interpret, knowing the context: Will feels guilty for lying to Hannibal.

When Margot loses her child, Will feels renewed anger at Hannibal. He fantasizes about killing him and gets to realize his fantasy with Mason’s help in E12. But at the last moment, Will changes his mind and chooses Hannibal. He does the same thing in E13 by calling him. When he sees him, he doesn’t even try to point a gun at him: he asks why he didn’t leave as he was supposed to, and he even leans forward to accept the knife, accept the punishment for betrayal.

So, Will chooses Hannibal over Abigail, for whom he wanted justice; over his and Margot’s child, for whom he wanted revenge; over Jack and Alana, who were his only semblance of friends; over his own confusion and desire to be normal. For someone as emotionally stunted as Will, it’s huge. It proves that he loves Hannibal and is willing to compromise all other relationships he has formed as well his own beliefs for him (while Will is dark, he tries to fight it because he doesn’t think people like them are normal). Is it romantic? Will’s dream with the word “beloved” and his sex fantasy, as well as his acceptance of the idea that he and Hannibal were Abigail’s fathers (which makes them partners) imply that yes, romantic feeling is a part of it.

Hannibal’s romantic feelings became explicit in S3, and so did Will’s. But since Hannibal is more open and self-accepting, his were discussed out loud while Will’s were mostly portrayed silently, implied, and alluded to.

Will builds a boat to sail and find Hannibal, which is pretty romantic by itself. He spends his time in Hannibal’s house, in the kitchen where their bloody break-up happened, imagining Abigail near him. When Alana comes to find him, he asks her to leave. He’s cold and indifferent toward her — she’s not what he wants, and he’s not interested in even friendship with her. All he wants is to mourn his lost family with Hannibal and Abigail. Again, Hannibal is Will’s priority.

Will imagines his perfect world as the one where he and Hannibal killed Jack together. This scene is intercut with his Mizumono memories, namely, with Hannibal's face that emerges every time he moves yet another part of the engine. This is a vivid demonstration of Will trying to repair what is now broken. When Jack asks him why he called him, Will is indifferent and genuine:

*Will: I wasn't decided when I called him. I just called him. I deliberated while the phone rang. I decided when I heard his voice … I told him to leave. I wanted him to run … Because he was my friend. And because I wanted to run away with him.*

That’s a big admission for Will. This is the first time he openly acknowledges Hannibal as his friend in front of another person. Chilton calls Will and Hannibal’s interactions a “flirtation” in this episode, which once again points us in the romantic direction.

The entire E2 of S3 is dedicated to Will’s love for Hannibal, where he argues about it with himself in the form of imaginary Abigail. This is another proof of Will’s problem with emotions in general and emotions for Hannibal in particular. He can’t just think to himself as normal people do — no, he can’t admit how much he loves Hannibal this. Instead, he imagines Abigail and talks to himself through her to make it easier. He berates himself for lying.

*Will/Abigail: We were all supposed to leave together. He made a place for us. Why did you lie to him? He gave you a chance to take it all back, and you just kept lying.*

Will is reverent about Hannibal; he keeps talking about him over and over again.

*Will: This isn't Hannibal, it's just where he begins. Beyond this, far and complex, light and dark, is the vast structure of his mind. A thousand rooms, miles of corridors. Everything he remembers, wonderfully and fearfully reconstructed.*

Will goes as far as lies at the place where Hannibal’s Valentine heart for him was, reconstructing this image and trying to feel close to him. The heart comes to life the moment Will touches it, which is romantic. Will says:

*Will: A valentine written on a broken man … I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I would be without him … He left us his broken heart … He misses us.*

He looks on the verge of tears, so Hannibal’s gift touched him. Will is overcome by emotions. At this very moment, his more frightened side suggests that Hannibal is also playing with him.

*Will: Hannibal follows several trains of thought at once without distraction from any, and one of the trains is always for his own amusement.*

We know it’s not the case, especially here, but Will has trust issues and a low self-esteem. He’s worried that Hannibal’s feelings for him aren’t as strong as he thinks they are, which is why he’s not sure how to react himself. He asks himself, *“You still want to go with him?”* and replies, *“Yes.” He wonders about what life they’d have if they left.

*Will: What if no one died? What if we all left together? Like we were supposed to. After he served the lamb. Where would we have gone? … In some other world.*

Pazzi comes and tells Will that he hopes they’ll catch Hannibal together.

*Will: What makes you think I want to catch him?*

Later, Pazzi says:

*Pazzi: He let you know him. He sent you his heart.*

E2 ends with Will scaring Pazzi and telling him, *“You don’t know whose side I’m on.* Then he tells Hannibal he forgives him, which is also a huge step in his direction.

This entire episode proves that yes, Will loves Hannibal. Considering how he isn’t awkward from receiving a Valentine or hearing that Hannibal gave him his heart, Will shares the romantic aspect of Hannibal’s feelings for him. He regrets not running away with him and their daughter, he places himself on the floor where the heart was to feel closer to him — this is such a rich romantic subtext that it’s practically text. Especially for Will, who remains so conflicted and emotionally restrained all the time.

Will’s attitude changes after seeing Chiyoh. He becomes more bitter. Considering how dark he is in these scenes and how he constantly compares himself and Chiyoh, he likely sees her as someone Hannibal was supposed to love but easily abandoned. It makes Will draw the parallels between them, and he starts to doubt that Hannibal loves him, that his “broken heart” has any authentic meaning. That’s where he starts thinking about killing Hannibal again. He still says:

*Will: I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I’m with him.*

This line also speaks volumes. Hannibal gave Will a precious gift of understanding himself; he showed that he could accept him, and Will is drawn to it. Will admits the depth of their connection to yet another person. Then he makes a firefly from Chiyoh’s prisoner, a tribute that is clearly done with Hannibal in his mind, considering the style and the central topic.

Chiyoh sees right through Will’s emotional constipation. She implies that he should “kiss” Hannibal rather than keep being “violent”:

*Chiyoh: I told you, there are means of influence other than violence.*

She kisses Will then, thus showing him what others means exist. He doesn’t get it, though, since he responds to her kiss despite not feeling anything for her, and she pushes him off the train, likely admitting he’s a hopeless case.

Meeting Jack, Will tells him that a part of him will always want to leave with Hannibal. This is yet another declaration from him. Will isn’t scared of the consequences — he speaks of his feelings openly now. It’s a great development of his character.

But the feeling of doubt about Hannibal likely resurfaces further after Will sees that Hannibal replaced him and Abigail with Bedelia in E6 (hence his hatred for her since that moment). He mocks her alibi and then leaves to reunite with Hannibal. The following moment was deleted, but it still discloses some of Will’s romantic feelings:

*Will: I looked up at the night sky there. Orion above the horizon and, near it, Jupiter. I wondered if you could see it, too. I wondered if our stars were the same.*

From the words that did get into the episode:

*Will: You and I have begun to blur ... We're conjoined. Curious if either of us can survive separation.*

Will doesn’t just admit the bond between them, he elevates it the level of soulmates, implying they are one and the same. It’s also a declaration of love in his language. But love doesn’t stop Will from being vindictive, hurt, and angry, so after meetings with Chiyoh and Bedelia that affected his perception, he pulls out a knife as he and Hannibal are walking together.

There is a brain-sawing disaster after this and E7, where Will looks done and tired from the madness and his constant attempts to figure Hannibal out. He does bite Cordell before looking at Hannibal, seeking his approval; he uses “we” pronouns when speaking about Hannibal with Alana. One example:

*Will: You helped Mason Verger find us.*

So, he still sees himself and Hannibal as a team, but he’s still tired and bitter, so after everything is over, he hurts Hannibal by saying he doesn’t share his appetite and by attacking him emotionally.

*Will: I miss my dogs. I'm not going to miss you. I'm not going to find you. I'm not going to look for you. I don't want to know where you are or what you do. I don't want to think about you anymore.*

This is all personal and emotional. It sounds like a break-up, which is exactly how Bryan Fuller and others referred to it. When Hannibal leaves and Jacks arrives, Will puts on his glasses, an indication that he’s hiding again.

Fast-forward 3 years. Will is married now, but from the very start, we see that this marriage isn’t all people usually expect it to be. The first scene shows the family apart. Molly and Walter have gone fishing, which is something Will loves. He had dreams about teaching Abigail how to fish, but he doesn’t go to do that with his family, preferring to stay alone instead. It’s the first hint that his heart isn’t in this relationship, that he’s too hung up on the past to move forward and make new happy memories.

Jack came to drag him to Dragon’s case, and Will makes it look like he’s reluctant. At the same time, he doesn’t send Jack away, even though we know from the past that he has no qualms being frank when he wants to. More than that, he asks him not to show pics to Molly, but when they have dinner, Will deliberately leaves the house with Walter, leaving Jack and Molly together. At night, when Molly’s asleep, he crawls out of bed and goes to read Hannibal’s letter. He doesn’t tell the truth to Molly about himself and his dark urges, about everything he has done – Molly clearly has no idea who he truly is, considering how she jokes about his ‘criminal mind’ in later episodes and how Will immediately closes himself off from her. He never initiates physical touches with her; he doesn’t return her “I love you”, which is an even bigger indication of his lack of commitment. Will is emotionally stiff with Molly for the most part, and the only times he laughs with her or shows any emotion is when they are talking about superficial stuff in the former case and when he’s furious after Francis’ attack in the latter one. Other than that, there is no closeness or honesty.

Another point of Will’s inability to express or even give his love to someone is in his scene with Walter in E11. This child, his step-son, has just been attacked by a serial killer with his mother. His mother was hurt and they barely escaped. Will doesn’t hug him or offer him paternal emotional comfort; he’s very awkward. All he says is, “You're both safe here,” which is something an officer might say but not a father. Will was much more emotional in his fantasies about Abigail.

This is what Will says about Walter’s reaction to Jack:

*Will: He read about me in a Freddie Lounds article. I had to justify myself to an eleven year old.*

He’s resentful and not emotional. He doesn’t say, “I had to justify myself to my son!” – he distances himself from him. Will is cold. He has expressed his feelings for Hannibal at this point in rather poetic ways, but he can’t be bothered to do this for his wife and his son.

He treats Hannibal in a very reserved fashion too, in comparison to how he acted 3 years ago. However: first, there is the fact that he came to visit him in the first place. Will didn’t need his help, we saw very clearly how he managed to easily reconstruct the crime scene the night before. It proved that his mindset is in a good shape, so he didn’t need Hannibal’s assistance. But it’s Hannibal he requested to see right away.

Will distances himself from him by calling him “Doctor Lecter” and insisting that he’s more comfortable the less personal they are. His eyes glisten, though, and he can’t look away from Hannibal. The impersonal approach doesn’t last very long, too, and soon, they are talking like they always did. Hannibal accuses Will of marrying for false reasons.

*Hannibal: How did you choose yours? Readymade wife and child to serve your needs. A stepson or daughter. A stepson absolves you of any biological blame. You know better than to breed. Can't pass on those terrible traits you fear the most.*

Will doesn’t bother to deny it, though any man would have been offended, particularly if he truly loved his family. In Will’s case, from the experience and all the precedents, silence = agreement.

In E10, Will seeks Bedelia out. He acts catty and jealous, targeting her personal connection with Hannibal.

*Will: You didn't lose yourself, Bedelia, you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn't be bothered.* - personal, targeted against Bedelia's attachment to Hannibal.

*Will: You hitched your star to a man commonly known as a monster. You're the Bride of Frankenstein.* - personal, attack with romantic connotation. Bedelia catches up on it and mocks him:

*Bedelia: We've both been his bride. Have you been to see him?*

*Will: Yes.*

*Bedelia: Haven't learned anything, have you? Or did you just miss him that much?*

*Will: Have you been to see him?* - personal again. Will wants to know if Bedelia is keeping contact with Hannibal.

*Bedelia: I've seen enough of him. I was with him behind the veil. You were always on the other side.*

*Will: Something we should talk about.* - again, personal. It's all personal, which is why Bryan and Hugh called them Hannibal's jealous bitchy exes. Will is palpably jealous and he shows his resentment to Bedelia openly.

Later, we have some more romantic references.

*Bedelia: My relationship with Hannibal is not as passionate as yours. You are here visiting old flame. Is your wife aware of how intimately you and Hannibal know each other? … Your experience of Hannibal’s attention is so profoundly harmful yet so irresistible, it undermines your ability to think rationally.*

So, there is romantic text, parallels between Hannibal and Will’s wife, and Will doesn’t deny any of this again. He keeps coming to Bedelia because she’s the only person he can talk about Hannibal to without being watched.

After Hannibal sends Francis after Molly and Walter, Will spends about a minute being angry with him. Then he accuses Hannibal of staging a competition between him and Francis. It is startling: Will spent months, years mourning the loss of Abigail who he didn’t even really know personally, yet he forgets the gravity of what happened to his wife and won very quickly. He leaves Molly and Walter and tells Bedelia that they are finished. One traumatic event, and Will left. It coincides with something very important that happened here: after this, Will finally figures out Hannibal is truly in love with him. So he goes to Bedelia to discuss it with her.

*Will: Is Hannibal in love with me?*

*Bedelia: Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you, and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?*

Will is predictably silent. Obviously, if the answer was no, he would have said no. But he struggles because like we established, he has issues with expressing emotions. He only managed to start referring to Hannibal as his friend openly in this season, opening up about some of his feelings, but he’s not ready to go this far. It would be absolutely out of character for Will to say, “Yes, you know, I’m in love with him! Thanks for helping me see it.” Every confession Will makes is preceded by struggles and heartbreak. But he’s going to reply to Bedelia’s question, only not explicitly-verbally.

Will sets up Chilton and then comes to allegedly say good-bye to Hannibal. He lies several times in their conversation (about Chilton and Molly with Walter), so all his words are automatically suspicious. Regardless, he destroys Hannibal emotionally and walks away. Personally, I believe he was already planning to break him out, so he was playing it up for cameras and also taking a chance to hurt Hannibal for everything again. But whatever his plan was, what happens next is that Will conspires with Francis against Jack, Alana, and the FBI. They agree to break Hannibal out together. Will lies to Jack and then gets to ask Hannibal for help. He’s being flirty and manipulative in this scene.

*Will: I need you, Hannibal … You're our best shot, Hannibal. Please.*

He’s smirking, he leans close to Hannibal, he sends him a flirty look from under his eyelashes. Will is thoroughly enjoying himself, and he does it best when he has some excuse to hide behind.

Later, he lies to Jack and Alana again, leaks info to Francis (who nearly killed his wife and son), and gets many officers killed by proxy. He tells Bedelia the truth that he doesn’t “intend Hannibal to be caught a second time.” He also implies that he’s going to let him go free, which is why Bedelia should pack her bags.

*Bedelia: Can't live with him. Can't live without him. Is that what this is?*

This time, Will agrees, although in his way.

*Will: I guess this is my Becoming.*

For Will, Becoming was always connected to his feelings for Hannibal because accepting himself and his darkness meant being free to escape with Hannibal.

*Bedelia: You found religion. Nothing more dangerous than that.*

In E3, it was stated that love is a God (you can find more here https://www.reddit.com/r/HannibalTV/comments/7w54dg/lovegodreligion_s3_parallels/), so it’s possible to say that religion = love in this context. It certainly makes sense. Will is accepting himself and his emotions, and the trigger was establishing for sure that Hannibal is in love with him.

Will and Hannibal drive to the cliff house. When Hannibal asks Will if he intends to save himself by killing them both (Hannibal and Francis), Will replies:

*Will: I don't know if I can save myself. And maybe that's just fine.*

This is the first time he confesses that he might be incapable of killing Hannibal. Predictably, when Francis comes, Will can’t handle seeing Hannibal killed, so he reaches for his gun.

Will and Hannibal work as a unit and protect each other. Hannibal is shot, nearly strangled, thrown onto the ground, and he is still weakly holding on Francis' leg to prevent him from going after Will, even though it leaves him in an open and vulnerable position — Francis does kick him in the face with his other leg. There is fierce determination on Will's face as he stands up despite the pain and runs to save Hannibal. They act in synch, consummating their relationship.

Then, Will admires how blood looks on his hand and repeats Hannibal’s words:

*Will: It really does look black in the moonlight.*

He remembers the words Hannibal said to him weeks ago in one of their endless interactions. A bit earlier, he perfectly recalled the words Hannibal told him *years* ago, back in the middle of S2.

*Will: I understand that “blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel your Radiance." Hannibal said those words. To me.*

So, Will remembers everything Hannibal told him. He stores these memories. It’s a small but still important proof how important Hannibal is for him.

At the cliff, Will finally accepts the truth.

*Hannibal: See. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.*

We know what Hannibal wanted: a Murder Husband. What does Will say to this?

*Will: It’s beautiful.*

This is a loud “yes” to Bedelia’s question about his feelings. Will acknowledges, accepts, and admires them. He doesn’t feel awkward, as he would if he knew Hannibal is in love with him but didn’t feel the same. No, he reaches forward to embrace him, and such physical contact from Will is mind-blowing because he almost never does it. He clings to Hannibal, puts his head on his shoulder, touches him as if he wants to melt with him. Then he gives the fate a chance to stop both of them or to set them free. They fall into the ocean under the Love Crime song, another romantic element.

Water symbolizes reborn, and post-credits scene indicates that Will and Hannibal have paid a visit to Bedelia and are in the process of eating her while she’s hiding the fork to stab one of them as he approaches. The deleted epilogue to the series shows that they are in perfect harmony now.

**Conclusion**: Will has passed through a long, painful journey. He went from hiding from emotions and deflecting to not denying and carefully acknowledging them. We don’t hear words “love” or “in love” from him in relation to Hannibal because Will is not that kind of person. He doesn’t use these words freely, and for him, every small emotional step is a struggle. He tried to deceive himself and other numerous times; he tied to deny the truth and manipulate his own mind, but with each season, his feelings for Hannibal became more and more explicit. Will reaching out for physical contact, Will saying “It’s beautiful” are his way of saying, “I ached for you. I love you.”

This is a story of mutual love and obsession, about soulmates, about unique type of connection that few people share. It’s not about Hannibal falling in love and Will not feeling the same. Their feelings are equally strong, but they express them differently, particularly as Will’s are tied to the acceptance of his own darkness.

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

- PART THREE

Summary: You had your first show at Zeke's club, but things begin to complicate. Pairing: Zeke Jeager x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: language, Floch is a creep Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: as always, make sure to read parts one and two to understand just what the hell is happening. the songs reader is singing in this chapter are flickers and easy by son lux, which i've linked down below if you wanna listen to it as you read

For five long days you switched between training with Mikasa and practising with the band. The deadly assassin made you work hard, teaching you various techniques of martial arts, as well as how to load and unload guns, how to aim, how to use knives and even how to use crossbows. You were no match to anyone else in the family, getting your ass kicked even by Armin, the bookkeeper, but you were not going to give up. Your will to survive fuelled you. What you weren’t expecting in those five days was to get to know Mikasa and Armin, and realise that they were just as normal as you were — with the added benefit of being properly trained in marksmanship and combat. And they were surprisingly nice to you, but there was a hint of reluctance in their actions and words.

Friday night you had your first show and you found yourself in the backstage, a knot in your throat as you did your makeup. The idea of Yelena blowing your brains out was a lot more pleasant than having to perform in front of so many people. Posters had been put up all over Paradis City announcing your first show at Wings Club, and you knew lots of undercover policemen would be there, perhaps even undercover Marleyans. But for some odd reason, you wanted to please Zeke, make him proud of sparing your pathetic life. Onyankopon told you to be ready in five minutes, and your heart sank, wiping your sweaty palms on the crimson dress.

"You'll do fine." He told you, but you had a bad feeling. There were guards everywhere, so you felt somewhat safe, but stage fright settled in your heart, and you couldn't even reply anything back. All you did was remain stuck in a trance.

The band was ready, the microphone was on, and you waited for the curtain to rise. Someone announced your performance, and the violinist began playing the notes of the first song as the spectators waited eagerly. There were no original songs, only jazz covers, and you felt every single pair of irises burning into your skin. You closed your eyes, imagining no one was there but you and the band, everyone else disappeared.

"And with my opened mouth I join the singing light..."

There was no turning back now. You'd done it. The spotlight was on you and you alone. Soon the pianist joined, and you felt a bit more confident.

"I can see the flickers, over me the lantern raised... Lift me up, lift me over it. Show me what you're hiding, take me out into the sea... Lift me up, lift me over it."

Somewhere upstairs, Zeke was watching over you, door wide open to hear your beautiful voice hypnotising every man and woman in the club. Indeed, he made the right choice.

"And with my opened mouth I join the singing light..."

You were in a trance. Nothing mattered anymore but the music, the vibrations, the thrill of the show. It was giving you a sense of importance and belonging, and in that moment, you knew it — you were thriving off of the attention, the way no one dared to move while you sang. You captivated the spectators with your voice, you captivated Zeke with your voice.

"I can see the flickers, over me the lantern raised... Lift me up, lift me over it. Show me what you're hiding, take me out into the sea... Lift me up, lift me over it."

You finally opened your eyes, drinking in the way everyone was silent, the only sound resonating being the final notes from the musical instruments. The next songs came so much easier to you, some were more upbeat and you stopped being stiff, your hands moving up and down the microphone pole, hips swaying, head tilting. You ended your performance with another emotional song, and even you had goosebumps on your skin as you began to sing.

"Easy... easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy..."

You saw them, the two cops from the files. They were watching you like hawks, sending chills down your spine. But you were a distraction, so you looked them in the eye, a smile on your plump lips.

"Easy, easy... You break the bridle to make losing control easy, easy... Crushed what you're holding so you can say letting go is easy, easy..."

The song was coming to an end. You wrapped your arms around yourself to emphasise the emotions you were so gently transmitting, voice echoing in the club.

"Oh, easy, easy... Burn all your things to make the fight to forget easy, oh, easy... Burn all your things to make the fight to forget easy, easy..."

You weren't just transmitting an emotion, you were feeling it, too. The song resonated with your life, your struggles, your issues. You were alone most of your life, save for Historia and the children. But now... now you had someone, albeit being forced to work for the mafia. But you weren't alone anymore.

"Easy... easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy..."

You bowed in front of the crowd as a round of applause replaced your voice and music. It was exhilarating, the adrenaline not wanting to leave your body. You mumbled a soft thank you in the microphone before leaving the stage, tripping on the last step. Onyankopon was waiting for you with a large bouquet of peonies and daffodils, your eyes widening at the beautiful flowers and sweet scent.

"This is for you, miss." He smiled, but his smile was hiding something and you couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.

"Thank you, but you didn't have to!"

"Oh, it's not from me." Onyankopon pursed his lips. There it was. You looked at the card attached to the bouquet — You are as radiating as the sun, but as cold as the moon. E.S. The message was written in perfectly neat calligraphy.

"E.S.? Any idea who that might be?" You tucked the card between the flowers as you walked with the mobster in the dressing room.

"I know exactly who that is." He sighed, eyes narrowing at the bouquet. "Inspector Erwin Smith, chief of police. He handed me the flowers personally."

"Isn't he working for you?" You removed the heavy earrings from your earlobes.

"He is. It appears he likes you." Onyankopon folded his arms across his chest and a man with strawberry-blond hair entered the room, earning disgusted looks from all the half-naked girls there.

"Boss wants to see you." He sneered at you, goosebumps dotting your arms.

"We'll be upstairs soon, Floch."

"No, not you. Just birdie. Chop chop." Floch left the room and you got up. Onyankopon grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks before giving you a concerned gaze.

"Be careful around him. He's... strange."

"I'll keep my guard up." You tried to smile. There were lots of things you didn't know about the men you were working with, so you made a mental note to ask Sasha and Connie about Floch.

"So, I hear you're a prostitute." He bluntly stated, and you flinched at his words. The audacity of this bitch!

"Was." You corrected him. "Besides, it's none of your business."

Your shoulder blades met with a wall and you let out a whimper at the impact. Floch eyed you up and down, his hands holding you in place.

"Everything you do is my business." He sneered, his face leaning closer inch by inch, closing the gap between you. "Ah, you even smell like a whore."

You feel disgusted by that creep, the way he sniffed you twisting your lips into a frown. Onyankopon was right to warn you, and so you slap his face, hard.

"Don't touch me again." You lifted your gown above your ankles and walked up the stairs, with Floch behind you. Fucking pervert.

"Ah, little bird, you've been fantastic!" Zeke greeted you, cigarette between his fingers. "I heard you even received flowers."

"Yes, from Erwin Smith." You nod, eyes on Floch's shit-eating grin.

"Good. I want you to meet with him after your show tomorrow." Your boss smiled and your eyes drifted to the healing wound in your left hand. You knew you caouldn't say no. "I suspect he'll want to recruit you as a double agent."

"Do I accept?"

"Of course, but you'll be telling him exactly what I tell you."

"Understood."

"You may go. Don't forget to take your pay from Armin."

"Yes, sir." You gently bowed your head in respect and left. Floch whispered whoreas you passed him and you gritted your teeth.

"Say, Connie, can I ask you something?" You watched your roommate unbox some bottles of fancy liquor.

"Sure! What's on your mind?" He asked, focused on his task.

"What can you tell me about Floch?"

Connie almost dropped the bottle, his eyes finding yours. "Just that you should stay away from him."

Sasha walked in with what you assumed to be a bag full of drugs and that's when it clicked — they were going to put the drugs in the boxes and ship them. Clever.

"Floch is insane." The brown-eyed girl scrunched her nose. "He's obsessed with Eren and thinks Zeke should step down and let his brother take his place. Why? Did he do anything to you?"

"Yes and no." You proceeded to explain what happened back at the club to your roommates and the look of disgust on their faces only confirmed what you assumed.

So far, you decided to only trust Sasha, Connie and Onyankopon, and hope that Zeke wouldn't give up his title. Otherwise, you'd end up dead in a ditch, and the one who’d put a bullet between your eyes was Floch himself.

tagging @mxhi

[cower-before-power]

Penny For Your Thoughts: Part 1

Summary: You’ve been harbouring feelings for your mighty squad captain for months. When you’re forced to share a bed during a mission, will you finally get the courage to tell him how you really feel?

Pairing: William Vangeance x GN Reader

TW: forced bed sharing (if that isn’t your thing)

PART TWO UP NOW HERE

A/N: I originally was writing this for a different fandom but abandoned it, when i found it again I thought why not use it for Black Clover? “There was only one bed” is one of my favourite tropes SO I WROTE IT. There will be part two when I get around to finishing it. Enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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Sleep is dancing far out of your grip tonight. 

It’s not surprising, considering the less than fortuitous circumstances you find yourself in. It’s cold, almost absurdly so, and the curtains are far too thin to obscure the waxy shine of the full moon. Your body is stiff, unable to relax, lest you accidentally touch the softly snoring man beside you. 

He just had to accompany you on this mission. It had to be a double bed. It had to be the only room left. It had to be just your luck. 

Of course, you couldn’t predict the only inn for miles being so crowded.  The staff couldn’t predict your bottled up feelings. He couldn’t possibly predict how tortuous it would be for you when he said sharing the room would be fine.  He was smart, perceptive- but you’d shrouded yourself painstakingly, and he’d never seen past the protective haze. 

You were always good at hiding. 

You roll slowly onto your side, eyes falling on his relaxed form as he slumbers peacefully beside you. The moonlight throws every feature of his face into sharp relief, and the beauty of him hits you like a punch to the gut. 

Did angels ever find their way down to earth? Because you were pretty sure you were laying beside one. Even with the scar covering half his face, he was pure art come to life.  Something so breathtaking it just couldn’t be of this world. 

And it wasn’t just his looks. His insides-heart, soul, mind- were just as dazzling. He wasn’t perfect of course (you still sometimes found it hard to believe he a actually a certified criminal), but he was atoning for his sins and he never stopped trying to be more, be better. He was kind, supportive, gentle, humble. 

He was everything you wanted.

You hadn’t had much of a relationship with him when you first joined his squad, but then again, he was mostly someone else back then. In the months since the elves left, he had opened himself up to his Knights a great deal more. He stopped wearing his mask around the base, started up random conversations with those below him, attempted to get to know you and your squadmates more personally. And to your surprise, the two of you got along very well.

Before you knew it, the two of you had struck up what could be called a friendship. You often would walk in the garden, talking about everything and nothing all at once.  He was more human when he was just William, not Patri in disguise or the stoic Captain Vangeance. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, something about his calm aura that allowed you to be more candid with him then you were with anyone else. He listened to your worries, your fears, you problems. He laughed with delight at your stories of childhood antics. He offered advice when you asked. He even shared bits of himself, little by little peeling back the layers until you could see the wonderful soul shining underneath. 

He had captured your heart without even knowing it. It was pain to stand beside him and not spill the truth, but some piece of him was better than nothing at all. If you weren’t so scared of losing him, of having him go back to just being your aloof Captain, you’d tell him how you felt. 

But fear was an iron cage, and you couldn’t escape it. 

“You should be sleeping.”

You gasp, nearly jumping out of your skin. He cracks one eye open, his lips tugging softly up into a sleepy smile. 

“I thought you were asleep!” You place a hand on your chest, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“I was,” he rolls on his side to face you. “But then the incredibly loud sound of you thinking woke me up.”

You blush furiously. If only he knew what you had been thinking of. “I’m sorry. I....just can’t sleep. It’s too bright and cold in here.” And I’m in love with you and sharing a bed is proving too much, your brain adds. 

He hums, squinting his eyes at the offending lunar orb outside the window. “Well, I can’t do anything about the moon. But...I can help with the cold? If that’s okay.”

There’s a faint blush on his cheeks, and you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. What he’s suggesting is wildly inappropriate. He is your captain, your superior. Surely warming up another is a duty saved for a life or death situation. And a  prolonged time so close to him might prove too painful once it was time to pull away. 

But you’re a glutton for punishment, and so you find yourself nodding at his offer. 

He pulls you to him gently, arms wrapping around you as you come to rest against him. Your legs automatically slot with his, his chin settling comfortably on the top of your head. His skin is warm, so impossibly warm, and you can’t help but burrow closer, eyes closed and heart pounding. 

It’s heaven and hell all at once. 

“Better?” He asks softly, and you simply nod, not trusting your voice to work. You lay in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of quiet breathing between you. His heartbeat thumps steadily beneath your ear. It’s a lovely sound, so full of vitality and a glorious reminder that he is alive. He’s alive and he’s here with you, and in the end, no matter how much it stings, that is really what matters. 

“You’re still thinking very loudly,” he breaks the silence, and you feel the words reverberate through his chest. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. Not worth even a penny.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, and you can practically hear him frowning. “I value every single thought that comes out of your head. If something is bothering you, I’m here.”

How can you tell him? Tell him he’s the one making your thoughts so noisy, that he’s the reason you can’t sleep? It’s been eating at you so long, dying to break free, but you just....

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “You might not like what’s in my head.”

“Hey, look at me,” his voice is gentle but firm, and you pull away from his chest to meet his eyes. “You know you can always come to me with any problem, any thoughts, any thing that’s eating at you. I’ll always be here with an ear to listen and a shoulder to rest against, no matter what it is. You’re important to me.”

The sentiment sets butterflies fluttering in your chest, but you know he doesn’t mean it the way you want him to.  

“I know,” you drop your gaze away from his, unable to look any longer into the kind depths that are resting upon you. “I know. I mean, we are friends right? That’s what friends do.” The words choke you, constrict your throat and burn like yesterday’s stale cigarette smoke 

“Yes, we are friends,” he echoes, and a thick silence comes to rest over the room. It feels heavy, dense; an enormous pressure bearing down upon you. You suddenly feel like the room is closing in around you, everything feels hot and prickly and uncomfortable. There’s a volcano in your chest and it’s never been so near eruption. Everything you’ve ever wanted to say, every word you’ve ever wanted his ears to hear, is threatening burst from your mouth like a river finally free of the dam. 

Maybe it’s his closeness. Maybe it’s the way he looks in the wane moonlight. Maybe it’s the barely perceptible tremor in his voice as he spoke the word “friends”. But you’ve never been so close to bursting.

“I don’t want to be your friend,” it slips out before you can stop it, and you bite your tongue so hard it bleeds. 

“What?” He stiffens against you.

Your tongue tears itself away from your teeth. Everything is bubbling up so fast, your will to keep your heart in darkness is fracturing and you scramble to patch up the leaks. 

“I don’t-I mean- I,” you babble, pushing yourself away from him. It’s the wrong move- the look of confused hurt painted across his face crushes everything to dust and the spring finally bursts forth.

“I don’t want to be your friend, I want to be more!” you cry out, the weight of what you are doing hitting you square in the chest. “I want more and I can’t have it and it hurts, it hurts so bad but it would hurt worse to give you up. That’s what I was thinking earlier, thoughts not worth even a penny because they are stupid, useless, hopeless. Tonight has been one of the worst nights of my life, being so close to you but feeling like you are a million miles away.”

You’re sitting up beside him now, the space between you feeling like a vast ocean. His mouth hangs open slightly, violet eyes wide with shock as you continue your rant. 

“I know these feelings are inappropriate. I shouldn’t be thinking of my Captain this way. But I can’t help it. I wasn’t even thinking about love and then you-the real you, this you-stepped in front of me and just...just....just reached out and took it. You took my heart for your own and you didn’t even know it. I....I’m in love with you and it’s tearing me apart that you don’t feel the same!”

You finish, chest heaving, breath puffing like you have just run a race. You can’t even bear to look at him. Those soft violet eyes, the idea that they may be filled with pity and reproach at your words makes you sick to your stomach. You sit with your head hung, waiting for him to break your heart even further.

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Stay tuned for Part 2!

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

Pairing: Suit Saeran x Non Gendered Reader

Description: A little fic based on that gorgeous Suit birthday title screen CG we got this year. Go on, put on that dazzling outfit. There is one problem here with Suit’s plan though…you don’t know ballet to perform for him. Guess you’ll just have to dance together </3

Little note for readers who don’t identify as female: On stage, EVERYONE wears makeup (lipstick, eyebrows, all of it) in order to emphasize features for the audience to see. And costumes are also very important, including ones with glitter! Suity here doesn’t discriminate, everything here is following performing arts rules. Feel free to think of the costume in any way you like as it isn’t referred to as a dress! It’s anything! Local theater kid here isn’t a lier promise.

I wrote this pretty much exactly after the CG was revealed :3 so it’s older

————————————————————

“Perfect...what a well behaved doll~”

Saeran crossed his arms in front of him, showing you his signature smirk in a smug look of victory. He studied you, traveling down from your face to the outfit you so graciously modeled for him, admiring the way it hugged your waist and fell with such a poof at the bottom, black feathers adorning the soft silky material. He coughed upon noting the exposed bit of skin the outfit left in your chest area, and he made it painfully obvious that where his glance landed up was the cause of the tiny loss of composure.

You couldn’t help but feel rather flustered under his gaze, relief washing over you as his eyes finally met yours again.

“So...it took it being a special day for you to finally listen to me? Well? Did you enjoy the show at least, toy? Wasn’t it cute? The little dolly made of my little doll finally doing what you’re supposed to do. Entertaining me! That is your purpose! And today…,” he huffed through his nose with laughter. “You’re finally going to do that properly! That wasn’t just any old puppet show...but a demonstration of how today is going to go. You’re going to dance for me as I sit back and enjoy my cake in front of you...and if the performance is good enough, you can have a bite. Aren’t I generous today?”

He snickered as you tried your hardest not to sigh tiredly, not necessarily completely annoyed by him but…needless to say this wasn't something you’d have planned. There was a short pause as he tapped his foot a few times impatiently. Clearly you weren’t getting his message.

“So then, toy? Dance for me! And dance for this sugary treat~”, he cackled, sliding the small plate in your direction before pulling it back, taunting you much like a toddler. Perhaps waving a reward in front of your face would light a fire under you.

It was moments like these where you found yourself wondering what good you initially thought you’d get from blindly following a complete stranger to a hidden location in the mountains. Truth be told, today you were mainly humoring his whims because of the sheer amount of detail and effort he put into this charade, and because you were curious to try on that exquisite costume. Birthday boy or not...this couldn’t become a regular thing of his.

“Oh..oh oh oh and one more thing.”

Saeran rather excitedly crouched down for the blue present box underneath the table, easily popping its lid off and pulling out the final piece of your outfit; the same feathers and golden crown worn by your doll.

“Aren’t you excited? You get to be royalty for the day...my prince(ss)..my birthday present to play with! Why else did you think I’d instruct you to wear your hair like that before I came?”

Sending someone in to do your hair for you that evening and pamper you was the proper explanation for what actually went on. It wasn’t like it would be an easy feat to add such a lovely jeweled hair piece to your do alone. The timid believer who assisted you even brought you a perfume sent by him...so you, according to the note attached, “wouldn’t smell so awful”. On the bright side, you really did feel dazzling, the pearls in your hair matching the ones on your new attire.

“Well...come closer so I can put it on you. I won’t bite...as long as you listen,” he teased, bringing himself forward to close up more of the gap between you two.

You bowed your head slightly in response as he fiddled with how the headpiece sat, occasionally feeling his hands smooth down and readjust little parts of your hair. Once he was confident the job was done, he took a step back to admire his work of art. He seemed proud of his accomplishments; his ability to get you to play dress up for him and how the puppet show went so perfectly after so much practice...and now was the time for his hard work to pay off. He expected you to make every bit his birthday fantasy come true, which was evident in everything from his expressions to body language. But there was a problem. You didn’t know ballet.

Saeran took his birthday hat and placed it upon his head grumpily before plopping in the seat you once previously enjoyed his performance in. He sat with a slouch, bringing his plate of cake to him, noming down on a small bite before speaking again with his mouth a bit full.

“Come on, toy! I’m waiting now that you’re all ready!”

He tapped his foot impatiently again.

You decided to address your concerns slowly.

“Uhm...Saeran..? The dance you made the puppet do was ballet…”

“Yes, aren’t you clever? So do some ballet for me.”

“That’s the thing...I haven’t done ballet since I was practically a baby. I’m not sure how to...and you’d have to turn on the music-”

Rational thinking interrupted your nervous attempt to reason a proper way to do this. “And hey...why am I dancing for you anyways?”

He tilted his head, raising a brow in disapproval.

“Because I say so, and because you value your life and your stomach. Remember? I can toss you out at any time,” he puffed, “and this cake will save you from your misery of having an empty belly. You will work for your food and convince me you deserve it!”

“...Ok..? But again...I don’t know how to do ballet anymore-”

Saeran cut you off with the sharp screeching of his chair’s legs dragging backwards against the ground, standing swiftly.

“Did I ask for excuses..? Hahaha...most people would be more pleasant on their birthdays..”, he stepped towards you. “...Is that what you’re expecting from me? Hmm? To be all sweet and sappy because it’s my big day? Extra nice to you? I still won’t tolerate disobedience...in fact, I have less patience today!”

He finished his march to you until he could make certain his dominance was well established through a face-to-face threatening scowl, towering over you best he could. He cupped your chin, tilting it up so you were forced to meet him in all his fury.

“You’re going to dance today. You’re going to dance today because I ordered you to do so, little airhead. Even if I have to force you!”

Releasing his hold on your face, he then grasped your left hand, intertwining your fingers, giving you a good yank forward into him. He caught you on his chest as you gasped in slight shock, the feeling of his hand making its way to the side of your waist; the unexpected cold touch making you shiver as you felt it through the fabric of your outfit.

There was an awkward pause as the two of you stood together in silence for a moment, Saeran just watching you with bated breath. The quiet was eating at you, feeling your heart clamoring against your ribs as you waited for him to initiate something. Your stare drifted down to his chain which sat within your outfit’s front feathers before moving back up. It was cute that he’d pick out a gold one for his birthday. You piped up as you heard him finally swallow saliva.

“We uh...need music..if you want to dance together. I think this is a good solution, actually.”

You gave him a smile, the same gentle look he’d cursed dozens of times before for making him feel so gross in the stomach. He kept quiet this time, but your expression made him feel no different than usual, if not more so.

“I knew that. Obviously we can’t dance to nothing. Tch, don’t get smart with me…”

Sure he knew that.

He let go of your hand to reach out and press play on the little radio he’d tucked away behind the little stage, contorting himself to stay close to you before returning to your old ready to dance position. He pulled you to the right with a shuffle together away from the set to a clear space in the room, closer to the window, the glow of the soft moonlight catching on the intricate glittery details of your costume.

Saeran stared for a mere moment, stiff as a statue as you placed your free hand on his shoulder. You could tell from the shifting of his eyes he was trying his best not to gawk now that he was getting a solid look at you up against him, clearing his throat with an “akhem” to collect himself. He’d never admit the tips of his ears felt hot to the touch.

Finally, with your prompting, the inviting melody which drifted through the room allowed the two of you to begin swaying together; Saeran watching your feet to understand the 1-2-3 step movements you did. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, grinning confidently as he took more lead and a firmer hold on your waist. It was a simple dance, rocking a tad and moving in a circle, the expression you showed him sweet and caring as he peered into your reflective (e/c) pools, (and perhaps it was flustered and nervous too). He, on the other hand, wouldn’t allow his mask of cocky satisfaction to be taken off so easily, despite the rosy hue his pale cheeks took on.

“My my...such a warbled little smile I’m receiving from you~ are you enjoying this, doll? Don’t lie, I can see just how red you are..pfft- is dancing with your prince something you’ve day dreamed about before? You and your delusions-”

You decided to outright call him out. He can’t just tease you like this when he came up with this whole plan in the first place, now can he?

“Says the one who made a detailed puppet set of the building we’re in. And two dolls of us. And got me a costume. And got me ballet shoes, which my whole outfit matches the doll’s exactly, by the way. And you even put on a whole show, plus made me do my hair the way you like...who’s day dream are we actually living out? Oh and don’t forget...you’re the one who took my hand to dance too~”.

You winked at him, eliciting a low growl which rumbled in his throat. His face grew redder, perhaps with rage.

“Hey...I never said I didn’t like it. The detail is incredible, and I’m being honest. I’m not sure how much work you put into it all...but I can tell it was a lot. You, sir, have a hidden talent. I’d like to see what else you can do with more free time for yourself….”

He sneered, “I’m not going to keep humoring you with more stuff like this, if that’s what you’re implying. Maybe with more free time, I’ll only find myself coming up with new ways to make you bend and break! But, I will take your compliment as you can at least appreciate this all as a work of my geniusness. I’m a busy busy man, but I found free time to set up a playdate with my toy. So stop pushing my buttons! You should feel lucky I graced you with my presence! It’s my birthday...and I’m stuck looking at your stupid face!”

“Hmm...again, with all that planning I think someone wanted to see ‘my stupid face’. And I do feel lucky, because I get to spend your birthday with you, although I wish I could have organized something myself. And what I meant was...Saeran this is a work of art. The dolls look hand crafted and painted, including the outfits which must’ve been sown for today in order to match perfectly. I also noticed the pearls on my costume match the ones on your birthday hat. And the set...some of the paint even appears as if its liquid leaf...which it might not be but still. Once we’re finished dancing, I want to go and admire your efforts. Especially the cute little replica of yourself you made~!”

Saeran sputtered angrily.

“You….are certainly an A grade weirdo. Don’t you hate this, even a little? Isn’t it sucky for you? Having to be my puppet today!”

“I’m no one’s puppet. I’m enjoying myself because I get to dress up, dance with you, and learn about a new skill of yours.”

He stopped your swaying with a halt, and you could feel his once icy hand in yours growing hotter by the second. His grip tightened as if to warn you he might hurt you with a squeeze, but within a second, it softened, and he let go momentarily to run it through his poofy locks. He grumbled.

“I don’t know why I even bother with an airhead like yourself. You didn’t even use the stamps I left so clearly out in front of you.”

You grinned at the opportunity suddenly presented to you. You hadn’t given him a birthday gift yet, and here was the chance to give him something small, but memorable.

“Hey Saeran...do you like the shade of lipstick I’m wearing today? It’s kind of purpleish..you know, a combination of red and blue. Like your stamps if the ink is mixed.”

He gulped, furrowing his brows.

“What are you getting at? I don’t care about your silly stage makeup I instructed the believer to do...”

You faked a sigh, “Sorry, sorry. I’ll make sure to get on that last bit right now about the stamps, since we’re no longer dancing.”

Without hesitation, you took him by the open sides of his striking suit jacket, pulling him to you to turn and plant a quick but firm kiss on his cheek. You then let him go, drinking in his wide eyed blushy appearance, raising his hand to touch the prominent lipstick mark you left on him. He wiped the area as if to show he didn’t like it, only to look down at the swipe of purple on his fingertips.

“See there? A stamp! And there’s more where that came from~”

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.

Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.

UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.

•

Of Ice and Blood

Part 1

Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.

It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.

When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.

Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.

Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.

She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.

Selkoth, the city of marvels.

Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.

[Start of the actual work]

I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.

Monday, the first day of my college life.

I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.

Time management is key.

I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.

Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?

I looked over to my mirror and it was—

Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.

'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.

"Yes mama, I will.”

With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.

I eat fast okay

Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.

Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?

I snickered.

As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.

My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!

I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.

Dramatic.

Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.

The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.

I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.

They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.

Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.

I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.

High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.

But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.

Which is kinda problematic.

I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.

Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.

Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.

I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.

I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.

*************************************

The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.

Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?

We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!

I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.

Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.

That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.

I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.

He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.

Beautiful.

The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.

I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.

“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.

Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.

Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.

Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.

I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.

There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.

"Are you...alright?"

I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.

“Uh…yes?”

The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.

“You were pushed earlier.”

Oh. He saw that?

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.

“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.

He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.

“Tai'chi.”

Interesting.

“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”

He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.

“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."

***************************************

Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Check pinned post for latest chapter updates💕

[thewildomega]

Feral Red Dog ch. 1

 A/N: So I will say this again Trigger Warning. Also this Awesome Fan art of young Sakazuki is not mine, the artist to what I understand deleted their account so I hope they won’t mind me using their work. Anyways I hope ya’ll like it and if you could leave me some feedback it would make my day. 

Sitting on the cold, hard stone you winced at the ache of your backside and the burning pain of your wrists. Looking down at the cuffs binding your wrists together you noticed the red stain to your skin and tilting your head, you bit your lip at the sight of your now raw flesh, patches of flesh rubbed away by the rough metal. Sighing you pulled your knees up to your chest in an attempt to get more warmth to your near freezing body. The cave- like place those disgusting pirates deemed as a good hiding place was damp and cold, seeming to seem into your very bones. It had been days since you had seen the sun and even longer since you had eaten, you were pretty sure your body had given up asking for food at this point. You felt so weak, even if a chance to ever escape came you doubt you would be able to make it far in your state. Glancing up to the man currently posted as your watchdog you saw him sitting on the crate, his own eerie black eyes lifting from where he had been sharpening a blade to look at you. Dropping your head to your knees you let your heavy eyes slip close and took in a shallow breath, your broken ribs making it hard to get the air you needed.

Sleep almost had you under her spell when a loud boom filled the air and then the cave shook. Cannons. Snapping your eyes up you saw the man become alert as well, standing and holding his long blade in his hand while his other moved to his pistol on his hip. Men shouting and yelling echoed through the tunnels of the cave, one word making your blood turn to ice, "Marines!"

Scrambling to your feet you started towards the male, "Hey, hey come on you have to let me...Ahhh!" A hard smack to your left cheek sent you falling to the rocky floor, blood dripping from your lips. 

"Quiet girl!" He huffed. 

"JET, KEEP THE BITCH ALIVE! SHE'S WORTH A FORTUNE!" Another male voice rang from down the tunnel. 

Breathing heavily you could only listen as the marines began infuriating the cave. Gunshots and yelling bounced off the cave walls. The high pitch clash of swords and screams of those being injured or killed filled your ears. Your heart was soon to beat out of your chest like that of a cornered animal about to be slaughtered. Swallowing hard you felt your body begin to tremble as the heavy boots thumped on the cave floor. They were coming. Seeing the male that had been keeping watch of you yell out and charge forward you tensed. A blood curdling scream was heard before a body fell into your line of sight, a young man dressed in marine whites that were quickly turning red. The sound of a gun went off, a bullet ricocheting off the rock walls and more yelling. It was now or never. Either way you were most likely going to die, you wouldn't go down without a fight. Hurrying to the side you looked around the large bolder to see the man who had been watching you battling a marine. Snapping your eyes in the other direction you saw shadows of men on the walls. Licking your cracked lips you hear a gasp and looked to see 'Jet' cut the other man in the abdomen, the male falling backwards. Watching as the pirate lifted his gun, pulling back the hammer and aiming at the young male you saw a fallen sword laying by the dead male and acted quickly. Grabbing the blade you ran towards the male and shoved it through his shoulder blades as hard as you could. Watching him fall dead beside the injured marine you met the young beta's eyes for only a moment, shock filling his grey eyes before you took off down the tunnel. 

Skidding to a stop as more fighting broke out in front of you, you opted for running around them. Hearing what sounded like the captain of the pirates yell for someone to grab you, you kicked the man who went to grab you in the groin as you ran for the exit. A sharp pain in your thigh made you stumble, your leg falling out from under you and a broken cry leave your throat as you rolled to the ground and out of the cave entrance. Whimpering you grit your teeth and forced yourself to stand, your right leg now barely able to hold your weight. Seeing an open grass covered plain in the full moon's light you began limping as fast as you could for it. As the sound of the battle seemed to grow more distant you thought you may be in the clear before something was sending you falling towards the ground again and hard. Whimpering you let out a huff though your nose as you tried to push yourself up again. 

"Give it up, Pirate scum." 

Hearing the extremely deep male voice you pushed yourself up to your knees, the male's shadow falling over you as he came to stand in front of you.

Looking over the what he now knew to be female he watched as she struggled to get to her knees in the tall grass. Walking around to stand in front of her he looked down at her and noticed imminently the iron shackles around her wrists that were not marine grade. It was hard to tell in the moonlight but she looked like she had been through hell. As her tired eyes met his he scanned over her beaten face he quickly came to the assumption that she was not in fact one of those pirates but more likely a captive of theirs. Still though there was something wild in her eyes. Crouching down to get a closer look of her he was hit with a strong scent that made something primal in him purr with delight. he now knew why she was being held captive by them, this young woman was an omega. Reaching out to grip her jaw in his large hand dodged her attempted bite and dug his fingers into her skin a little as he tilted her face to each side, looking for any signs of pervious claim, seeing none he raised one brow. 

You knew him, oh God why did it have to be him? Vice Admiral Sakazuki. Fear, all you felt was fear and it was made worse by the overwhelming scent of his alpha hormones. How, how did it come to this? With you on your knees, wrists chained, with none other than the most feared vice admiral staring down at you with his hard, brown eyes, seeming to burn a hole straight to your soul. Holding the alpha’s stare you grit your teeth, "Well get on with it." you growled. If he was going to kill you you wished he would hurry it up. But to your surprise the male only let out a small huff of amusement before the corner of his lip lifted up, his next words changing the rest of your life.

"You'll do." he huffed. 

Furrowing your brows you felt your heart hammer in your ears. Watching him stand back to full height you wanted to ask what he meant but the world started spinning and other muffled voices were growing closer. Feeling very lightheaded you blinked your heavy eyes and saw him no longer focusing on you as he spoke to whoever else was there. Weakly you tried to move, pushing your body up to your wobbly legs but fell to the ground shortly after. Looking up at the stars as they twirled around the night sky you saw something dark block your view. Deep muffled voices sounded like thunder in your ears and then you were being lifted from the dew covered grass and an immense warmth was enveloping you. Trying to keep your heavy eyes open you parted your dry lips to speak when a deep voice cut through the darkness evading your mind. 

"Sleep omega." he told her and felt her small form fall limp in his arms. Carrying her back to his ship he made his way straight to the med bay and barked out for one of the doctors to come attend to her. Now in the light of he ship he saw she was small, frail even. Her dirty and matted hair looked to be a Crimson red and she was very malnourished, her torn and bloody clothing doing nothing to hide how skinny she was. Stepping back as the doctor went to work on her he crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Who is this woman Vice Admiral?" the doctor asked. 

"That is something I intend to find out. Treat her and keep me updated on her condition." he spoke deeply, leaving no room for discussion. 

"Yes sir." the woman said and heard the male's heavy footsteps grow faint as he left them alone. 

.............................

Hushed voices. Warmth. Pain. Groaning you felt your brow twitch and the extreme dryness of your throat. Attempting to swallow just to get some kind of moisture you flinched when something touched you. Feeling your head get lifted some and another pillow get moved behind your head you whimpered at the stiffness of your body. 

"Shhh, it's alright, you are safe. Here drink." 

Feeling something touch your lips you obeyed and swallowed greedily at the water the unknown woman was giving you. Once you had had your fill you turned your head slightly and felt her pull the glass away. Cracking your eyes open you instantly closed them again at the light that blinded you. Flutter your lashes open slowly you felt your eyes adjust and then blinked a few times before finally being able to look at the woman, the nurse as she was so obviously dressed. Casting a glance around the room you saw what looked to be a hospital room. White walls, white floors and white ceilings. It smelled clean as well. 

"You are in the hospital on Marine headquarters." she told the woman in a kind voice. 

Snapping your eyes back to the beta female you tensed at the information. You could only stare at the brown haired woman as she went about telling you how lucky you were to be alive and how Vice Admiral Sakazuki had been the one to 'save' you. 

Noticing the woman's breathing pick up she reached out to touch her and saw her instantly recoil. "You are okay miss, you are safe here, no one is going to hurt you." She told her. "Can you tell me your name?" she asked but the woman wouldn't answer. "Are you hurting at all? I can adjust your medication...."

"No." you spoke, your voice cracking a bit. No you didn't want her to put you back to sleep, you needed to find a way out of here. 

"Well you must be hungry. I will go get you some soup and inform the Vice admiral that you are awake."

"Time..." you croaked out, glancing to the window and seeing little to no light. 

"It's almost dawn. He is likely not up yet but he was very clear that he was to be told when you woke." she spoke, adjusting the woman's blankets. "You just relax and I will be back shortly." 

Watching the woman walk out of the room, closing the curtain behind her to give you privacy you looked down to your body and saw you wore nothing but a simple grey gown.  Lifting your arms you saw your wrists wrapped in bandages along with a small one over the cut that had been on your forearm. There was an IV line in the top of your hand. Following the line up to the stand you saw two bags, one most likely fluids and the other medicine of some sorts. Taking a deep breath you bit your lip as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, your muscles aching along with your side. Hooking a finger in the neck of your gown you saw your upper half wrapped in bandages as well. Pushing the blankets from your legs and lifting the gown up your thigh you saw a thick layer of gauze wrapped around your mid thigh, the gunshot. That would pose a problem in your escape. Turing to hang your legs over the bed you eased off the side and had to quickly catch yourself from falling to the floor. Panting you took a few minutes to adjust, pulling the IV out of your hand and tossing it to the bed. Stumbling to the curtain you peeked out and saw another bed on the other side, a sleeping man there. Noticing a neatly folded pile of clothes on the table you narrowed your eyes. 

After painstakingly pulling on the man's marine uniform you sun your hair around into a ball on the top of your head and tugged on the cap, tucking in any stray hairs. Walking to the opening the nurse had left through you peeked out and saw as another nurse, an older lady moved behind another curtain across the room. With a deep breath you started across the room and out to the hall, keeping your head down. Looking left then right you saw no one either way but could hear voices coming from the right so you chose left. Walking for some time you saw people coming towards you, two doctors by the looks of it. Panicking you grabbed the vase of flowers from the nurse's station counter and kept walking, holding the flowers over your face. 

"Morning officer." one of the doctors spoke. 

"Morning." you muttered, making your voice as deep as possible. Hurrying down the stairs you continued holding the vase until you got to to the main front desk and placed them down. Walking out of the hospital you started going down as many side streets as possible until before long you had no idea where you were and the sun was up in the sky. More people were out on the street now, marines and what you assumed were their families. Seeing a woman walking with two small children you swallowed hard and moved to her. "Excuse me miss..." When she turned to look at you you licked your lips, "I was wondering if you could help me out, I'm new here and well I'm a little lost. Could you tell me where the docks are?"

Smiling she tilted her head. "Of course, I was the same my first few months here. If you go down this main street you will see a sign that tells you to go right and you just follow that the whole way down to the docks." 

Nodding you gave her a small smile and thanks before following down the way she told you. Feeling your leg throb you bit the inside of your cheek and pushed on. If you were lucky you would be able to slip aboard a leaving ship and then play marine until you could slip away on the next island. Turning right like the woman said you were passing a storefront when something wrapped around your waist, a large hand coming up to cover your mouth before you could say a word. 

................................

Walking down the halls of the hospital, people moved out of his way per usual. Getting to the wing she had been in for the last four days he saw a nurse carrying a tray of soup and other small things towards her room. The young woman looked up at him and grinned politely. "Good morning Vice Admiral, I was just about to bring her something to eat." 

"So she is awake then?" he asked, moving to help open the curtain for the nurse so she wouldn't spill the omega's food.

"Yes sir she..." 

Hearing the young woman stop short and seeing her face turn to one of shock he quickly looked to the bed to see it empty. "WHERE IS SHE?!" he roared. 

Shaking at the alpha's loud roar she felt some of the soup spill to her front and quickly looked up to his eyes, shaking her head. Opening and closing her mouth a few times she swallowed hard, "I.. I don't know sir, she... she was just here. I only went to tell someone to inform you and then walk down to the dining hall to get her something to eat. I don't understand how she..." 

Moving into the room he saw the IV line on the bed and her discarded gown on the floor. Narrowing his eyes he pulled back the curtain of the next room and saw a male laying in bed, his head wrapped in bandages. Looking to the table he saw the man's clothes gone. She had taken them, she was impersonating an officer. Growling he walked past the nurse and out to find the omega he planned to make his. 

Marching through the streets he snapped his eyes ot every officer he saw, scanning their face. She was injured so she shouldn't have been able to get far but truth be told she shouldn't have been able to even get out of the hospital. It had been almost a week since he had found her and since then she had been out cold. The doctor on his ship had told him she had been lucky to be alive. Along with a gunshot wound to her thigh that had caused her to loose much blood she had many broken ribs and the wounds on her wrists from the cuffs had already begun to get infected. She had been kept on antibiotics and pain medication to help her catch up on the rest her body obviously needed. With all of that he couldn't lie that he was impressed by her determination and will but that changed nothing, she would be his. 

Continuing to look for her for sometime he was beginning to get frustrated when he heard his name being called and turned to see a petty officer running towards him, the young boy stopping to salute him. 

"Vice Admiral Sakazuki, you are to report to Fleet Admiral Kong sir." the young boy said. 

Sighing he nodded his head and watched the boy make his leave. Giving one last look around he grit his teeth, he hoped she wouldn't find her way off the island before he got finished attending to Kong. He still kept a look out for her the whole way but to his disappointment she was no where to be found. Knocking on the Fleet Admiral's door he heard the male's deep voice and opened the door. What he saw made him freeze. Kong was sitting behind his desk, his large arms crossed and his face as serious as always. Occupying the long couch in front of the desk was none other than Vice Admiral Garp and Admiral Sengoku. Between the two large males, sitting with her arms crossed over her chest and a hard glare on her face was none other than the little omega he had been looking for. Meeting her eyes he saw a fire in them that was willing to battle with his magma. 

"Take a seat Sakazuki, we have much to discuss." Kong spoke and watched the male close the door. 

Walking over to sit in one of the two chairs on either side of the couch he looked again to the omega and saw her give him a heated glare before she turned her head and looked towards the window. 

"I will take it this is the 'surprise' you encountered while on your mission?" Kong asked. 

"Yes sir." he spoke. 

Humming he looked to the girl. "Would you like to tell us how you became a captive of pirates... Y/n?" he asked, noticing Sakazuki's brow twitch just the slightest amount. 

Remaining silent you continued looking out the window until you heard Sengoku speak from beside you. 

"Go on Y/n, tell the truth." 

Sighing stared out at the sea, "Got caught trying to sneak off their ship." you grumbled. 

"What the hell were you doing sneaking on a god damn pirate ship girl?! Didn't I tell ya to stay on that island and behave yourself?!" Garp yelled, smacking the girl in the back of the head. 

"Ow! I told you I didn't want to stay there! It was boring as all hell!"

"That was the point you little shit. We put you there because you would have been safe..."

"Safe my ass old man the slavers started coming around more and more. If I hadn't left when I did they would have found sold me to the dragons then and there!" 

"So you thought that you would do what y/n, hitch a ride with pirates to the next island and then go along your way? What then? What was your plan then?" Sengoku asked in that disapproving voice of his. 

"I don't know, just keep moving I guess." you shrugged, looking down to your lap. 

"Well look how well that turned out?" Garp scoffed. 

"You should be grateful Sakazuki found you when he did, if not then those pirates would have no doubt sold you to the highest bidder by now." Sengoku added. 

Continuing to ignore them you opted for looking out the window. "So what now, you all just drop me off at some island again?" you growled. 

"No." It had been the first time he had spoke through all of this and he saw as the omega....y/n's eyes snapped to him, a confused look on her face. 

"Sakazuki?" Kong asked. 

Looking over the omega he felt a strange pull towards her and blinked before directing his attention back towards the Fleet admiral and raising his chin. "I choose her, she will be my wife." he spoke in a deep voice. 

Shocked by his sudden claim you felt your mouth fall open a bit before an anger filled you and you let out a growl, "Go fuck yourself asshole!" you snarled. 

"Y/n! What have I told you about using that kind of language. Ladies do not.." Sengoku started but you cut him off. 

"I ain't no damn lady!" 

"Well that's for damn sure..." Garp grumbled

Listening as the three on the couch went on bickering Kong held the young vice Admiral's eyes for a moment, reading him. Taking a deep breath he looked back to the three and blinked. "Go wait outside with her. Sakazuki and I need a moment alone." 

Seeing Garp and Sengoku stand on either side of you and feeling them grab your arms you shook them off and stood on your own, stomping out of the room. 

Once they were left alone Kong leaned back in his chair and looked to Sakazuki. "You still have time you know, to choose a wife. Your promotion to an admiral has already been decided but it will not go into effect until the end of the year that gives you plenty of time to look around." 

"I do not need to look any further. I choose her." he said affirmably. 

Closing his eyes he thought on the matter. "You found her Sakazuki, by law the omega is yours to claim but I will warn you that she will not submit easily." 

"What is her story?" he asked. 

"We don't really know. When Rocks was defeated ten years ago Garp found her chained up at the bottom of on of his ships, she was just a child. She was badly beaten and half starved. She doesn't remember anything about her past other than the fact that Rocks had killed her entire village. From what we figured he took her as a pet or trophy of sorts. She hasn't ever opened up about her time on the ship and from the shape she was found in she may never. Once she was treated here for a time and her body healed she started to show signs of an omega and we made the decision to hide her away. I am sure you are aware of the Celestial Dragon's obsession with Omegas, most are taken from their families as soon as they show signs and sold to them. Given her past we knew she would never make it if subjected to that kind of treatment." 

"Do you know how old she is?" he asked. 

"No. We guess she was about eight or so when Garp found her and from what she could tell us Rocks took her when she was around five."  Kong told him. 

Grunting he saw Kong open his eyes and look to him. 

"You are certain, you know you will not be able to change your mind once you claim her?" The fleet admiral asked. 

"Yes sir." 

"Very well." he said with a sigh. 

Watching as Kong called for Garp and Sengoku to come back in he saw Garp currently holding onto Y/n's forearm as she hit and kick at him. 

"Let me go you geezer." you growled. 

"Geezer?! Keep on and I'll..." 

"That's enough." Kong spoke. Looking to the young woman he saw her giving him a hard glare. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly, "Y/n, you will marry Vice Admiral Sakazuki."

"Like hell I will!" You roared. 

"It is not up for discussion!" he yelled, stopping her and both other men from speaking again. 

Breathing heavily you looked to the Fleet Admiral and then to the large alpha male sitting in the arm chair with his arms crossed. When he stood and walked over to tower over you, you lifted your eyes to actually look him over. The hood of his white hoodie was still drawn, a cap still on his head and a deep scowl on his face. 

Looking down at the omega he rose his chin and smirked at the look she was giving him. This would be interesting.

@lawlerek​

[weathergirl8]

Master of Deflection - Part 3

Writing sometimes helps....

This is for you @ak47stylegirl and anyone else who enjoys Alan whump/smothering. Of course, there will be some extra Virgil in there too, because I just love the big guy.

@gumnut-logic You had every reason to be wary and suspicious...

As a friendly reminder, I originally came from the TOS and TB 2004 era. I’ve tried to write a few TAG point of views, but my comfort zone is the previous. This will take place with Gordon as the redhead, and Virgil as the middle bro. Sorry!

Summary: Being the youngest of five is always hard, especially when they pounce at the slightest hair out of line. Sometimes the art of deflection can sting.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

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Alan tried to remain calm as the Captain’s grip on him became almost painful. The husky man forced them forward as Alan desperately tried to get his brother’s attention. Virgil was grabbing extra thermal blankets and hand warmers from the corner. The field medic was so engrossed with his task, and Alan loved his instincts for anything medical, but this was one time he needed his older brother to sense something was up.

Almost on cue, the chestnut-haired Tracy paused in his work and turned around slowly. Virgil felt his chest almost drop into his stomach as the sight of Alan helmetless being held at gunpoint met his eyes. He subtly activated his watch and coms before approaching the situation. “Captain, what’s going on?”

“There’s plenty of room to place some of that coal aboard here. You’re going to load it aboard your craft now!” the greying man screamed, tightening his hold on Alan as the gun pushed farther into his neck.

“Easy, Sir. We can talk about this,” Virgil tried to reason, fear for his baby brother pounding with every second. “We don’t need the gun. Can you please put it away, and we’ll talk about it?”

“Virgil, what the hell is going on?” the middle Tracy heard Scott’s concerned voice in his earpiece.

“I’m dead if at least a quarter of that shipment doesn’t survive,” Captain Sterns sneered. “I’ll kill your operative if that’s what it takes to get the message across that I mean business!” the man screamed as he cocked the gun, causing Alan to cry out in pain at the pressure against his neck.

“Virgil, I’m coming down there,” Jeff spoke next.

“No!” Virgil cried. “I hear you, okay? We’ll take the platform down now and get what you need.”

“That’s more like it. You’re both coming with me,” the Captain ordered.

Virgil led the man back onto the rescue platform. The middle Tracy took in a steadying breath as he heard Alan hiss as the Captain yanked the teen forward. “Captain Sterns,” Virgil hesitated. “I have to radio our team that we are going back down to the ship, or they will wonder what is going on. It will only take a moment.”

“If you tip them off, your man is as good as dead,” Sterns warned, his finger playing with the trigger.

Virgil held up his hands. “I won’t, I promise. Please don’t hurt him.”

“Be quick!”

Virgil nodded as he met the determined but fearful eyes of his baby brother. Alan remained composed on the outside, but those baby blue orbs that always expressed so much emotion screamed how scared Alan was. Virgil knew he had to find a way out of this that would not only save his little brother but the passengers on board. “Commander, do you read?” he asked, pretending to press his coms for the first time. “Please advise, we have a crew member unaccounted for and are returning to do a quick search.”

“F.A.B. Virgil, be careful.”

“F.A.B,” Virgil responded as he fidgeted with an item along his belt. The middle Tracy never took his eyes off his little brother. “We are clear, Captain.”

Alan watched Virgil, studying his movements. Out of the Captain’s view, Alan could see his brother reaching inside the small pouch that typically contained medical supplies. The youngest Tracy met Virgil’s now stern gaze; the field medic’s body was stiff. Virgil moved toward the two slowly. Alan could feel Captain Sterns growing uneasy behind him.

“What are you doing?” the older man asked.

“I have to press the control manually,” Virgil said, keeping calm. “You are standing by it.”

The Captain turned his head, looking for the so-called switch. Virgil knew it was now or never. “ALAN, DROP!” the middle Tracy shouted and lunged toward the crazed Captain, plunging a syringe into the man’s neck. The two wrestled, causing the gun to go off. Virgil punched the man, knocking the Captain out cold as the fast-acting sedative took full effect.

Virgil leaned back, breathing hard, his honey eyes immediately searching for his baby brother. “Alan!” he cried as he worked his helmet off and rushed toward his prone sibling. “Allie, are you okay?”

Almost in shock, Alan looked up at him before returning his gaze to a hole along the platform that resided just a few inches to his right.

“Alan, talk to me. Are you hit?” Virgil asked as he frantically began searching for a gunshot wound.

“I’m okay,” the blonde finally answered, pushing himself to his feet allowing Virgil to place his arms around him. “I’m not hit. Are you okay?”

Virgil hugged his baby brother fiercely. “I’m alright.” An unspoken thankful prayer lingered in the air between them.

“Virgil! Alan!” they heard their father’s voice yell as Jeff entered the room. “Are you boys hit?”

“We’re okay, Dad,” Virgil said, not letting go of Alan. “Knocked the Captain out with a sedative.”

Jeff calmed himself as he hugged his two children. “Situation is contained,” he said across his earpiece. “John, notify authorities to meet us at Prudhoe Bay. Gordon, prepare for retrieval. Scott, give us a few minutes to secure and restrain Captain Sterns and then follow us to Prudhoe.”

They each acknowledged their orders, leaving Jeff to look after his middle and youngest sons. “Are you sure you’re both alright?”

Alan looked at Virgil for a moment before looking back at Jeff’s uneasy gaze. “I’m okay, Dad. I promise.”

“Might have a few new bruises to nurse in the morning, but all good,” Virgil said with a smile.

“Okay,” Jeff said, relieved. “Virgil, help me take care of the Captain. Alan, I want you to change out of that soaked uniform and then meet me in the cockpit. No arguments.”

Alan paused but then nodded and headed toward the front of Thunderbird 2.

Virgil watched Alan walk away with worry, his hazel eyes finally catching where the stray bullet had landed. It had been so damn close….

-TB-

Tense energy filled each of them as they returned home, making the radio waves eerily silent. Pulling Thunderbird 2 into the hanger, Virgil tried to erase the memory of his baby brother being held at gunpoint from his mind. Turning from his seat, he met Gordon’s concerned gaze as the two noticed Alan was out cold. Alan had only mentioned his headache had increased after the incident, but otherwise, he was fine. Not wanting to cause an argument, Virgil let it go. “Go on, I’ll wake him,” Virgil told Gordon and their father. “Alan?” he called, as he gently shook his baby brother awake. The eighteen-year-old slowly opened his eyes. “We’re home, kiddo.”

Alan nodded and tried to return the smile his brother gave him. The teen fought against the exhaustion that seemed to overwhelm him. His head fiercely pounded as he felt chills running throughout his body. “Thanks,” he replied hoarsely.

Virgil eyed him with unease. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alan answered quickly and stood up from his seat. “I’m going to go take a shower, and then I’ll be down for debrief.”

Virgil hesitated but decided to give Alan some space. Now was not the time to push. “Good idea, Sprout. We’ll see you in a bit.”

“Don’t call me Sprout,” Alan grumbled lightly.

“Fine, Squirt,” Virgil smiled.

Alan rolled his eyes and headed toward his room. That warm shower sounded better and better with each passing second.

Gordon watched Alan as he entered the elevator that led to the main living quarters. “Is he okay?”

Virgil sighed. “I think he will be.”

Gordon nodded, looking in the direction Alan had gone once more before returning his attention to his immediate older brother. “What about you?”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked, confused as they exited Thunderbird 2.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Virg,” Gordon paused. “If someone pointed a gun at Alan in my presence, I would be furious and probably have nightmares for a while.”

“Yea…,” Virgil stammered. “I’d rather save the details for debrief. I only want to tell the story again once.”

“I get it,” Gordon nodded, leading them toward the elevator. “It sounded so scary over the coms.”

“It was. It was so damn close, Gordon,” Virgil admitted, his voice tight. The horror still replaying over and over in his head. “That stray bullet missed Alan by a few inches.”

“Glad you knocked that Captain a good one then,” Gordon said. “You don’t mess with a Tracy.”

Virgil smiled, catching the mischievous glint in his younger brother’s eye. “Indeed.”

“Anyway,” Gordon said, leaning against the wall of the elevator. “If you need to talk about it after debrief, I’ll be around.”

“Thanks, Gordo. I’ll keep that in mind.”

-TB-

Alan slowly dried himself off from his warm shower as exhaustion threatened to overtake him once more. The warm shower did nothing to ease the ache in his body nor to warm him. He felt chilled to the bone.

Stepping out of the shower, he cleared his throat as a tickle threatened to make him cough. Looking at himself in the mirror, Alan couldn’t help but frown as he noticed dark circles hooded his eyes. His head pounded, its return the result of the likely growing bruise on the back of his neck from Captain Sterns’ gun.

Another shiver ran through Alan’s body as his mind replayed the events of the previous rescue. It could’ve ended so differently, but Alan was ever thankful for his quick thinking older brother. Sighing, the teen reached for a t-shirt from his dresser and a thick pair of lounge pants that he hoped would help get rid of the chill in his body.

Reaching for his watch from his nightstand, Alan had to steady himself against his bed as a bought of dizziness overwhelmed him. “Okay, so maybe this isn’t just a migraine,” he said aloud to himself. Maybe it was just the effects of the day?

“I just need to sleep this off,” Alan said to himself. How to get his brothers and father to give him some space? Alan knew just what to do.

Turning the light off in his room, Alan sat down on his bed and called his father on his watch.

“Alan?” Jeff answered, concerned.

“Dad, is it okay if I skip debrief and eat dinner later? I’ve got a pounding headache and really just want to stay where it’s quiet and dark.”

Jeff frowned, the events of the day weighing heavily on his mind. “Are you okay, Alan? I can send Virgil up.”

“No,” Alan sighed. “I already took another Excedrin. I think I just need to sleep it off.”

Jeff studied his son’s shadowy features for a moment before finally answering. “Okay, get some rest, and I’ll check in on you in a little while.”

“Okay, thanks Dad,” Alan smiled gratefully and disconnected the line. Taking in a deep breath, he groaned as he laid down in the bed. Alan prayed sleep was all he needed. Pulling the covers over his body, he tried to relax as his head pounded once more.

TBC…