#my own bitterness comes out a tad in this lol

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 4

(No gif today since I can't find one that fits)

Synopsis: Reader has a small mental breakdown over her developing feelings for the Doctor.

A/n: yall are the realest bitches I ever met for enjoying this. I love you. Also, I'm going to keep some things mysterious for now. But hey, I got a vague plot and I pound out these to keep the scaries away.

Stupid, stupid and foolish! Pig-headed! Dumb! Childish! Total Moron! You chastised yourself as you went into the women’s restroom and locked yourself in a stall.

Where did you get off developing feelings for a professor? Where did you get off by allowing yourself to get yourself to even begin that? Especially this fucking fast? You knew how men were! You knew that even the good ones weren’t ‘good’ in an empirical sense!

They lie, they cheat. They steal. They manipulate. They go on their phones and take hundreds from “Timmy’s uni fund” and transfer it to their private bank account (often that their poor, downtrodden wives didn’t see or have much access to!) to get their dicks fucking wet. They refuse to shower and they bullshit their way into places they really shouldn’t be.

But him? His smile? His poetry? The way he adored his wife even from a few sentences. Like every cell of his body belonged to this dead woman? The deep Scottish brogue? The way he was tender and cared for every single student? Including your dumb ass? The arch of his nose…and his hands?

It got inside you so quickly.

You continue to internally scold yourself, breaking down into tears.

It borderlined on cliché. Hot for teacher. Daddy issues. One man made you feel special so you got giddy and went and got yourself a crush. You truly were exhibiting what people called “Fatherless Behavior”!

You sobbed deeper into your arms, bringing your legs against your chest. Trying to keep balanced on the toilet, you gently banged your head on the wall beside you a few times. You had to meet with the accommodations people in about forty-five minutes. You had to pull yourself together. Even if it would demonstrate a point. You still had to retain some of your dignity.

Plus, you thought quite pathetically, what if he was out roaming and saw you like this?

You banged your head on the wall about it some more.

You let yourself cry for a few more minutes. Just to exorcize whatever was in your system. You weren’t going to allow yourself to cry over a man, even if that was exactly what you were up to!

After that little emotional outburst was over, you scraped yourself off the toilet and back into the general restroom area. You had to put yourself back together.

Splashing your face off with cool water in the wash basin, you noticed that your skin was inflamed and you had some pimples on your forehead.

“Oh, that’s attractive.” You muttered and started on trying to find the willpower to not pick at them. That’d make it worse. And would affect everything. No amount of makeup covers a sucking wound in a visible area.

You didn’t have much on you except for a medicated chap stick and some concealer, so you made do.

You really regretted listening to him and not smoking now…

Deep breaths, you told yourself. Just keep breathing. Healthy stuff. Plenty of people had told you before. 1, 2 3. Hold, longer 1, 2 3 release. Wash, rinse, repeat.

It worked a bit.

You didn’t work tonight, or tomorrow night. You could afford a bit of a drink. Tonight. Tomorrow would be too late and you’d have dry skin for Thursday night.

That’s what you needed. A night of shit TV, skincare and most of a large bottle of coconut rum drowned in a can of Coke Zero.

Would help remove the feelings coiled in your chest a lot.

Reset the system.

Remove ‘it’, whatever ‘it’ truly was…

You steadied yourself and went to the Disabilities Office and sat in the waiting room after signing in for your appointment.

You pulled out your phone and started flipping through a familiar social media site. The memes perked you up and put a smile on your face. Helped you keep composure. You even replied to a few mutual’s messages and congratulated the one on their new job.

Your meeting came and went. Apparently you could go to student-lead tutoring from people who already took the classes. You got signed up and thanked the councilor, taking the emails for the students to message them and get more in-depth about the struggles you were having

You’d do it later, once you got home…

Speaking of which, you stopped at the store and got a can of Coke and a bottle of rum before trudging inside of it.

You started studying and sending out the emails to your new tutors. Truly a task from hell.

You stopped yourself from having thoughts of another type of tutoring.

The drink you mixed was strong. Perhaps too strong. The show you put on in the background was harshing the vibes so you closed the tab it was on. You checked the site for your place of work. You scoffed at your photos and wondered how little you could pay to get a professional update to them.

Back to school work. Back to projects. You couldn’t afford to let yourself have a stray thought.

The liquor highlighted the slight soft pain you had on the side of your head from the pounding you gave it. You touched it gingerly and gave up.

You weighed your options, you could drop the class and take the failing marks. Or you could be brave and normal. And take the class, just skate by. Hardly ever speak. Take the lowest grade and still fail.

It was a matter of what left you with the most amount of dignity, but also didn’t waste your money or time.

Or heart ache.

Could you really spite yourself like that?

Or just cut off contact for good.

What would not break your heart nor your bank nor your ethics? Was there any option that left all intact and unscarred? Let alone your precious, stupid dignity?

You had too much on your plate as is, now this stupid crush?

And disposing of it?

You drained the rest of your glass and did the bare minimum in the shower. Mainly just let the hot water spill over your head while you stared at the wall.

You put even less effort in on your skin care and teeth brushing.

Just climbed in bed and let sleep find your semi-drunk body and fully-fucked up and over brain.

Your alarm shot you out of bed, leaving your heart racing and your chest heaving. You just didn’t go to get up, let alone do anything. You sent in a mass email from your phone saying that you were sick. You’d let yourself go to work tomorrow night. But you didn’t want to set foot on that campus until you had a better, more stable grip on yourself.

You had a hangover and a sore throat anyways, so it wasn’t a total lie.

Responsibilities be dammed. You chose to rot in bed and doomscroll on social media. It was your mental breakdown and you chose to make it worse. It was your right! And entirely your fault!

You kept yourself in that ball of blankets far too long. Going in and out of consciousness, phone in hand.

Before you knew it, it was Thursday. Late afternoon. You sighed and got up.

You were quite dehydrated and famished. Hardly leaving the bed and relying on the cups that littered the side of your table for your main sources of water for well over twenty-four hours had left you weak and you fainted upon leaving the coil of your bedding.

When you came to, you thanked your lucky stars and any God that may have been paying a half-lick of attention to you in that moment.

You kept it simple and reheated some Chinese takeaway you had in your fridge. It was edible. That’s all you could ask for at the moment. Edible and got you through the waking world…

You went into your bathroom and started not only the long ritual you did to prepare yourself for work, but also repair work for the past two days of neglect. It was hard work. Your face was inflamed, your left side had creases in the skin from the corners of your blankets bunched up.

You stretched out and did a bit of a warm up exercise.

After all of that malarkey, you started chugging a bunch of cold water. Then you started to get your work bag together.

This, this, that, that other thing there, you kept mentally chiding yourself. You were out of materials, hopefully one of your coworkers would be able to lend you some. Just enough to get you by until Friday when the shops would be open. You were pulling a double shift anyways, so what was a sneak out and in. Maybe you’d convince the owner/manager to let you work when you’re usually not on during Friday. Whatever little cash you would make would certainly be welcome, and certainly wouldn’t hurt. You could sleep between appointments or walk-ins!

Maybe you would break your promise to Professor Smith and get yourself a pack of cigarettes and to hell with the entire engagement!

You stretched again and got into street clothes.

You repeated to yourself that you had to keep your mind on money and money on your mind. That it came naturally. Whatever all those dorky manifestations you occasionally saw said. Anything. Just to keep your spirits up and get your mind off other subjects.

Money on your mind was a whole lot healthier than a certain silver-haired professor being in there. And his class you were skipping today…

Who knows, maybe something bad would happen to you and you would be sworn off men in any way except the bare minimum to survive this world for good! You thought catastrophically.

You slid on your street shoes and your coat, slung your work bag over your shoulder and made your way out your door.

What was that one song? And how did it go?

‘So for once in my life

Let me get what I want

Lord knows, it would be the first time…”

Yeah, like that.

[fukia]

Fionna & Cake final thoughts , opinions and nitpicks lol

This will be unorganized and random and stinky, sorry

• great pacing first 2 eps

• good ideas

• ignoring multiverse saturation, is p decently done here!

• I miss Neil Patrick’s take on Gary/gumball- he sounded so freakin princely :(

• marshall sounded kinda less mischievous than he used to? Like vocally more down or something- I’m super glad he had the same actor tho lol Donaldddd

• I miss old Prismo voice too but I know why these didn’t work out

• Hunter’s voice either could’ve gone for a deep gravely stoicism or could’ve just been w/ the same actor as Huntress Wizard

• Scarab is ehhh- decent design but feels kinda out of place for adventure time- voice is similarly the same offness too, reminded me of kinda bad anime dub voices, it doesn’t feel intentional to the right extent —- either make a more surreal villain or a funnier one, his presence was rather generic

• the spooky faces and scurrying beetle of scarab was kinda funny

• lemongrab. Why justnonce roiland.

• I will end my life a million aeons over for Orbo - bluey’s dad: “say goodbye to your legs!”

• mmmarceline dress

• bubblegum mmmmilitary

• I wish we saw the fucking MOON vampire

• MOON vs STAR (super cool naming if the uh tarot thing is carried on here I legit don’t know if star is an actual tarot card lemme check)

• ORGALORG WHYYYYYY

• marshall n Gary was sweet- but I really wished they played up the bitter exes part before they did just the fluffy dating, bring a bit of parallel consistency

• fionna was good acting! The crying bit made my heart ouches- Character herself was a tad frustrating at times admittedly

• cake is great still - cake and vampire king hilarious

• why no “the star”’s actual dad :(

• BETH SHERMY GIBBON YES YES YES- back to old adventure time: I love the intro theme for Beth and shermy, it’s so melancholic and desolate, cold, with backgrounds that make this so fascinatingly depressing a turn for the land of oo (happy endings impermanent- life goes on kinda deal, so cool, so consistent with adventure time’s own concepts & “everything stays”)

• Simon and Betty made me emotional

• uhh how old was Betty when she starting dating simon? Just offhand lol I’m sure it was fine

• Golbetty had beautiful scenes

• way better simon and Golbetty than that weird adventure time published comic I’m sure some of you read

• the animation is great on some places, other times while well made, feels out of place for adventure time; like it’s trying too hard to be pretty (not the Ice Prince song, stuff like that made sense for adventure time)

• like some bits reminded me of Steven universe’s inconsistencies (same bits that made me really really dislike some of adventure time distant lands’ execution)

• [funny nitpick incoming] like there were points where the characters had really big eyes even tho they r supposed to be dots (not when exaggerating certain emotions cartoonishly, I meant prolonged); adventure time’s deal is keeping them small and kinda hard to decipher

• some bits were just a tinnny too anime that it bothered me, just some! Anime is cool!!!

• I was really expecting or hoping for a Korra styled multi-season just with lesser episodes

• the resolution was… kinda haphazardly handled

• same with some of the final themes, like w/ simon n betty

• adventure time is kinda known for being almost ambiguously optimistic so the whole super happy thing was kinda strange to me

• I know like it shouldn’t have to be the same as adventure time obviously, but that was the general identity of adventure time; the cosmic ambiguity with absurd humor delivered nonchalantly

• like I think of patience st pim’s ice domain during elements and the melancholic quietness of it - also PATIENCE ST PIM WHYYYYY I LOVED YOU (patiencevstheempresscough)

• ORGALORG COME BACK TO MEEEE

• yes it was a great thing to have this miniseries I enjoyed many parts

• the music was fucking fire!!!

• where was the dr two brains reference ? -3-

[morgana-ren]

Ooh, building on your comment about subtle manipulation... We know Astarion probably subconsciously wants to be what Cazador represents in his mind: utterly powerful, which means in control, which means safe from anyone else's predation because he's the predator.

A thought: a smart Tav would pick that up pretty easily. A wise Tav would know that such a path would lead to the inevitable destruction of this man they care for deeply- they're going to destroy Cazador for him, after all, they love Astarion and want to keep him from hounding their friend-or-something-more, but if Astarion becomes like Cazador... Someone will come to kill Astarion to protect their loved ones from him. Someone already has- poor Gandrel. A monster you love is still a monster.

A clever Tav would ask him... "Do you want to become Cazador? Do you want to chain yourself to him forever? Or do you want to stay my Astarion, and be free of him when he's finally gone?"

After all... Tav warns him that though they're helping him without expectation of any reward or even 'good' behavior, they will not let him become their own Cazador; just because they will not force him to conform to their way of living, they also will not let him make them worse... And all the while presenting it in a way that doesn't make him think he's doing it out of pity or guilt.

... Can you tell I love the delicate balancing act between a paragon and a walking corruption arc, where goodness and innocence is not synonymous with foolishness or guilelessness lol

That's what I utterly adore about Astarion's story. I think he's quite literally right on the precipice of it. He's still getting his bearings here, dipping his toes into the freedom he's dreamt about for so long. The vengeance is still ripe within him, and it very much guides his decisions.

I think it's highly possible that it could go either way, because whether he likes it or not, he is influenced equally by the actions of those close to him as he is his own thoughts.

A rotten Tav? Now that could push him over the edge easily. Encourage him to indulge in his wretched instincts, his more base, awful desires, all of it. Help him claim that power he thinks he needs so damned desperately and abuse it to the fullest extent.

However, I think that his growth was somewhat stunted during his time with Cazador. We don't know much at all about who he was before he was the Astarion we know and love, but I get the feeling that while he wasn't a good person necessarily, he wasn't rotten to the core either. Probably just a bit selfish and self serving. So technically, it's also possible that he could become better.

It's all still fresh. He's still bitter as hell. He thinks he wants these things, but does he truly?

It's entire possible that he could become a better person... or at least one not hellbent on abusing everyone around them. A delicate touch and a tad bit of manipulation and it's possible he could come to see things in a new and different way.

In a strange way, he seems a wee bit confused. He really thinks he wants power, but I think what he actually wants it to protect himself and keep from ever being put in a position of such vulnerability for the rest of his very long life. He wants to make good and goddamn sure that no one can ever do anything like that to him ever again. But power breeds corruption, and he openly admits he's susceptible to it.

How Tav interacts with him and their own personal morals and alignment will probably have a decent impact on how he proceeds.

[xplrvibes]

katelyn's new tiktok....is definitely not something i was expecting. it's honestly funny...and not in a 'yes, you should totally sneak in, this is so funny' way. it's sad she can't get their names out of her mouth or stop wearing their merch. i mean, at least she's getting the clout and views she wants.

Combining asks since they are about the same topic. Go watch Katelyn Dunkin's latest tiktok for context.

Yea, I definitely wasn't expecting to open tiktok on a Saturday morning and see that, gotta tell you. I kind of forgot she existed for a while, up until the best friend tiktok. And now she's back and...weirder than ever lol.

Here's my thing with ol' kdunks: I can almost sympathize to a point with her, because she did appear to have been blindsided (no pun intended) by this sudden breakup and has since lost a life long friend in the fallout. This relationship she was in was never officially made public and yet the fans of the guy she was seeing despised her from the jump and cast her in the role of the villain, and she had no chance of ever turning those tides. None. No matter how hard she tried, every foot she put forward was the wrong foot and made things infinitely worse.

So she gets dumped by him, rather suddenly from the looks of it, and he's out living this great life and she's left in the dust and is still getting hated on by the internet even though she wasn't even dating the guy anymore. She does dumb shit out of being petty, he claps back in his own petty way and his fans who were just waiting for him to give the 👍, go nuclear on her.

She's bitter. Bitter people who feel they were ganged up on and unfairly villainized do crazy shit sometimes.

Do I like her? Not really. Always found her a tad annoying, honestly, so this is not coming from a place of loving her and wanting to defend her cause I don't care lol. But I can see how this happened and why it continues to unfold the way it's unfolding.

At the same time - she isn't winning any contests by continuing to do this weird petty shit. It's just giving these fans more of a reason to hate on her, and is making her look more unhinged. It's funny in that way that odd drama is funny, but it does absolutely nothing to ease her reputation as the crazy ex because, well now she's talking about breaking into their Halloween part(iful). She can claim that it was a joke all she wants, but it wasn't. She's bitter. She wasn't invited but lots of people she knows is....and they're probably going, too. She's hurt by that. It's a hurt that is compounding with frustration because she feels alone and isolated because nobody is definitively taking her side*. So yea. This is all the result of bitter frustration. Screaming in silence, if you will.

I said this about another situation recently, but everyone has the right to tell their life story if they so choose....to a point. If she wants to be out there saying, "hey, I feel abandoned by my friend," or, "Hey, Sam dumped me out of the blue and left me to hang with his fans and it was really hard to deal with," then that's her story and she's valid to say her peace, I suppose. But there's a line with this type of stuff, and she's crossing the line into a weird territory where it's no longer something she's well within her rights to be doing/saying.

*to clarify: I'm not saying her side is the right side to take, cause I have no clue what she did or what sparked this breakup between her and Sam or her and Malia. For all we know, she could've done something to deserve the absolute ice cold freezing out that we've seen here. This is merely me saying that from her perspective, she probably feels alone and abandoned and ganged up on and embarrassed and is coming to terms with the fact that she was doomed to fail in this whole mess from the start. And she's not handling that with grace and class. 🤷‍♀️

Edited to add: the thought of her trying to get into that party and summarily getting the Uncle Phil/Jazz treatment does me chuckle, not gonna lie.

[purplesurveys]

1612

How much did your senior prom dress cost you? We had prom in junior year and if I remember correctly it only cost somewhere between ₱2000-₱3000; I can’t recall the exact price. I didn’t care for prom and even just brought my cousin to it, so I didn’t see the point in shelling out so much for a dress that I was only going to wear once. 

What dreams have stuck with you since childhood? There was one where I found myself at the balcony of the hotel we used to frequent and I suddenly saw this cradle with an abandoned baby in it. By instinct I went to the cradle and carried the baby who for some reason felt oddly...mine? Like there was definitely a connection of some sort the moment I put them in my arms. That’s all I remember from the dream.

Have you ever been in a serious romantic relationship? Yeah, I have.

Did you ever take your dog to school? I brought Kimi once during college because I included him in my grad shoot.

If you had had a baby in high school, what would you have named him or her? I was dead set on April Kathleen in high school (April after AJ Lee, Kathleen after Audrey Hepburn). Tbh it would still hold up today as I continue to love both girls and the name objectively isn’t bad either.

If you had a baby now, what would you name him or her? I’m into unisex names for a girl these days, so I’ve been loving choices like Elliott, Stevie, Frankie, Arden. For some reason I remain traditional when it comes to boy’s names and still prefer names like Seth, Noah, Lucas, etc.

Have you ever seen someone throw up on a plane? Nah, I’ve only ever seen that happen in that one Mr. Bean episode lol. I’ve heard people puking at a cruise ship though.

Do you get motion sickness? Yep. It’s at its worst during car rides.

Has God ever healed you of anything? If so, what? No, I have a very bitter relationship with religion.

What is the most boring church you have ever attended? Every single church service I have attended since I was 4.

What is the most lively church you have ever attended? I don’t really go anywhere else other than Sunday masses.

Do you find church fun or boring? Boring and a tad bit condescending at times.

What do you hate the most about summer? The fucking weather. Which part of your body is the most muscular? I don’t exercise lol but if I had to cite something, probably my arms. I do a lot of heavy lifting for work.

Did you ever take Latin in school? Not Latin but I remember a very brief period when my school attempted to make French classes a thing (the founder was French). It lasted all of like three weeks when I was in Grade 1 and then I never heard anything of it again.

Which major holiday is closest to your birthday? Usually Easter Sunday.

What is your favorite Japanese name? Keiko or Naoko, for a girl.

Have you ever ran a cash register? Nope, only toy ones lol.

Did you collect Bratz dolls when you were younger? I was never into dolls but I did like Bratz, and had a lot of non-doll Bratz stuff. My preschool lunchbox was Bratz, I had a backpack too, and a bunch of tops that had the girls in it hahaha. The giveaways at my 7th birthday party were also predominantly Bratz.

Do you think your mom is attractive? She is and also looks far younger than her current age (51).

What was the last thing that disappointed you? When I went down after work hoping to still catch some of the nachos my dad made earlier in the afternoon, only to learn that everyone had finished it off.

Do you like the feeling in your stomach on a big drop on a roller coaster? I hate it more than ANYTHING in the world, so I never get on rides.

Skeletons or scarecrows? Um, skeletons I guess. 

Do you own pumpkin earrings? Nope.

What computer game did you used to play all the time? I never was a big PC gamer.

When was the last time you read a book? Last weekend I read a chapter of Around the World in Eighty Days, which was a gift from Kat.

Would you allow your children to date prior to 16? (assuming you want any) It’s so hard to say. Deciding parenthood stuff when you aren’t is so much easier said than done. The way I’d answer now is that I guess I would, but given that they would be minors I wouldn’t hesitate to be a bit of a helicopter parent until they turn 18 (Asian mom instinct, soz). They wouldn’t be allowed to be alone in a bedroom, they’d have a strict curfew, only hang out where I can see you, things like that.

What was the last restaurant you made a reservation at? Hmm, can’t remember, I don’t typically make reservations. Probably at Sundays with my parents nearly a year ago?

Which app on your phone do you tend to get the most notifications from? Counting out Viber which I use for work and by default gets the most notifs in a day, I’d go with Messenger.

What is something you gave up on after many failed attempts? Learning how to ride a bike.

Do you watch political shows? The Crown has to count, right? Haven’t continued it in ages, though.

Do you play any fantasy/roleplaying games? What? No, not into that.

Do you like salami? Eh not really, I’m not into that kind of meat so much. Cold cuts is what you call them I think? Not super prevalent in our culture and I’m not a fan in general.

When was the last time you ate meat? Last night; pork belly.

What was the last hot drink you drank? Coffee.

Have your parents met your boyfriend/exes? They’ve met an ex but they didn’t know we were dating. She was always the “best friend.”

How about your boyfriend’s parents? Met them? I don’t have a boyfriend.

Do you know how to say I love you in at least 4 languages? Mahal kita, te amo, saranghae, je t’aime.

Do you find the sound of a cat’s purr relaxing? Depends. Most of the time I tense up.

Do you know your mum’s first pet’s name? Good question, but I cannot for the life of me remember it right now. I know the name was drawn from the dog’s black color though; it was like Charcoal or something like that.

Would you ever want to be famous? If so, for what? I mean I think it’d be kinda cool to at least be the best friend of someone famous LOL but I’d never want to be famous on my own. Too much pressure and and too many eyes on you, and I know I’d buckle almost immediately.

Would you ever get a heart tattoo or your back? Naw.

What fruit can’t you stand? Bananas.

Do you know anyone autistic? Not personally. It’s always a friend’s sibling, a work contact’s son, a family friend’s son, etc.

How about someone bipolar? Yes. What do you consider private to you? I’m such an open book that I’m finding it hard to answer this, haha. I share everything at some point.

Name somebody you know who deserves a better life than they have: Dev.

Name something that you’re good at but don’t like: I don’t like being too nice sometimes because it usually ends up putting me in a difficult situation. But I can’t help it and most of the time I will go out of my usual damn route to drive someone home hahaha.

Name something that you’re bad at but DO like: I have weaknesses in my line of work, but I enjoy the general gist of what I do if that counts.

Name somebody who has tried to help you and ended up hurting you: My mom will sometimes say things she thinks is advice but is actually pretty insensitive.

Name a date that has a lot of significance to you: June 13th.

Name something in your life that was a blessing in disguise: I don’t believe in blessings.

Name something that you’ve done that would be considered rebellious: I uhhhh did some weed while out of town, away from my family.

Name something you wish you had enough money to do: Traveling whenever I feel like it.

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Wait wAIT WAIT DID I ACTUALLY STICK THE LANDING?!

So, in the case of Caliban getting to cause chaos of his own: did your friendo deliver, or did she deliver??

Of course Snare gets in on the action! He's Cal's Little Buddy, and Cal trained him well!

Honestly, part of the reason this fourth snippet took so long was the fact that I was so indecisive about how to write how Cal and Ness' response to your latest comic. (No shame to you at all. The comic was great, and I'm happy with what I wrote. There was just a BIG left turn to work with, lol.)

So, I ended up just taking a semi-slapstick option and running with it. I just figured, "Okay, I NEED to show more of Caliban's unhinged energy here... and if grabbing your enemy and dragging him alongside your car as you speed through the night isn't one of the most frighteningly chaotic things someone could do, then what the hell is??"

Hey, Mad has been a bully ever since the very first FNAF Musical. While he's a damn good villain, every villain needs to get a taste of their own medicine at some point. And that particular medicine is BITTER.

Well, obviously Cal needs to chomp down on his enemies. That's a huge part of his reputation in the underground, y'know? Whenever I picture my scrungly in my head, I always imagine his teeth looking pretty normal at first, but just a tad too sharp. Then again, if you're close enough to really look at them...

(Also, kudos to you for the trivia! The human body is a horrifying thing; not even stuff as simple as saliva is safe!)

Oh hell yes: whether he's putting on a high, giggly tone or dropping down deeper, irl Matt's voice just has SO MUCH POTENTIAL for SO MANY CHARACTERS.

I actually got some of that cannibal-addiction trivia from one of the Cannibalism Week episodes on Food Theory! (Lol, I was so hopeful that Matt would do one more before he retired. Oh well...that's what I created Cal for!)

I couldn't just NOT give Ness a chance to get his own hit in! Bro deserves it after everything the wacko-in-a-bear-suit put him through!

I was honestly super nervous about writing Ness and Mike's little scenes; as much as I love the movie and their characters, it's still hard for me to write out couple stuff in general, so I'm very happy that you liked what I did here!

Also yES YES YES AHAHAHAHA, CALIBAN IS MOST CERTAINLY AWARE OF LSOH! Don't be fooled by all the hitman stuff--part of his heart is reserved for theater, just like any other EgoPat! And LSOH just combines some of his favorite things: gore/murder and acting/music! How could he not enjoy it?

Yeah, fight scenes are always tricky. As much of a tough-cookie as Cal is, he ain't invulnerable. But hey, I'm a writer; I hurt my characters because I love them.

(Plus, just so you know: I've been planning for him to improvise with a broom as a makeshift spear even before the third comic. Some things just come to me naturally and refuse to ever leave, lmao)

HEY LISTEN CAL'S JUST BEING THOROUGH, OKAY? HE WARNED NESS FAIR AND SQUARE AT THE BEGINNING.

Yep, that's one of the things I really like about Mad as a character: the sheer determination. Even when he goes down hard, he just refuses to go down quietly (funny how that's the very thing to lead to him getting his ass beat over and over and over again.)

I really loved your little explanation on Mad's view of Ness; I hope I did it justice here!

And OF COURSE Caliban had to make one last joke. The day he doesn't make morbid jokes/puns is the day he's suddenly not Caliban.

I'm super glad the ending scene went across cleanly! I was so uncertain about it; like, I wanted to be all vague and slow things down just to drive Ness' exhaustion and relative relief home, but I couldn't stop questioning my own details, lol.

I'm so excited for your next comic, buddy. (And I appreciate your enthusiasm for the epilogue!) Let's see how this whole thing comes to a close...

HEY HEY HEY IM HERE IM HERR WITH THE NEXT PART @wouldntyou-liketoknow I GOT IT

Jack is a good roommate and babysitter, I say as he takes Abby to shoot a killer in the head (like I said, good babysitter lmao). Abby feels regret for being threatened and not being able to help her brother, but like Jack said, she’s only ten. Finally, Mike connected the dots and out he goes to save his family. @crazy-obsessed-enby @iswmperson @lexusinsannus

(Don’t worry, I’m not going to expose Caliban, that’s why his headlights are off) Meanwhile, Madpat got exposed (by a taxi)

Madpat proceeded to lose it even more and ran away again, there’s a hole in Jack’s car, Mike is filled with adrenaline and big brother instincts, and Ness and Caliban are silently driving in the darkness.

Shit will go down and I will await for your snippet, hope this doesn’t change what you had in mind 😭

[mirahuyooo]

The Necklace | jjk

The Necklace

— Once upon a time, that necklace was everything. It’s what changed everything. How did he find it?

Word Count: 1,304 Content/s: angst, fluff (if you squint), exes au, there be some tension in the air, vague historical setting? (somewhere in the 1700s); you’re both vampires, Vampire AU (but its not really noted much yet lol) Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

[masterlist] | read more of [The Undying]!

A/N: VAMPIRE JUNGKOOK VAMPIRE JUNGKOOK VAMPIRE JUNGKOOK AHSdhASHD i’M keeping my plans this time and make a drabble only, bUT i have gotten more ideas for this vampire universe thing (???) and i thought i should make a drabble series!! Let me know what you guys think! Anyways, enjoy!!!

The moment you entered your apartment, you knew something was amiss. Your humble abode may get cold at night, but you didn’t have to worry about heat. This, however, brought a different sort of chill down your spine. 

In that instant, you knew just who it was. 

"I must admit, Jungkook, I'm quite disappointed that you've forgotten your manners," you drawled as you shut the door behind you. His name, though a familiar memory to your lips, felt a little off from lack of use. 

Even in the dark, you could make out where in the room he was, sitting in the worn armchair you had posed in the corner for a little book nook—perfect for quiet days like this if he weren't here to disturb it. Though you must give credit where its due, seeing as he surely came prepared to ruin your night in style. Compared to your simple blouse and skirt ensemble, he's dressed like a fine gentleman, different from what you once knew him to be. His hair was swept back away from his face and his frame was clad in fine fabrics with jewelry that glinted at you faintly. 

With precision, you navigate yourself through your kitchen to retrieve the matches. After a strike or two, the flame sparks onto the candles you fed it to, and you realize he's come much closer towards you, standing to his full height to loom over you with a glare. "That makes the two of us then," he sneers, a statement that catches you off guard. 

Under false identities, you've been living a quiet life among mortals for centuries, keeping out of the way of your kind and the cruel sadism they tend to wield. That's all you've been doing and all you plan on doing. 

So what have you done to offend him when you haven't seen him in two hundred years?

Your own brows knit together in a furrow, bearing a hateful glare that rivalled his. "What on Earth are you going on about?" you cross your arms as you take the candlestick you lit to place it on the dining table. "We agreed not to cross each other's paths, didn't we?"

Jungkook scoffs in a bitter tone. "We did," he huffs, as he watches you open the windows and draw the curtains to let some midnight moonlight in. "That's not what I'm cross about…"

His voice fell a tad bit softer in the latter part of his statement, one that peaked a hint of curiosity in you. "Then what is i—"

Words die in your mouth as you nearly choke at the sight of what he pulled from his coat. The necklace—one that brought on so many memories for you both. 

As if calling for your attention even more, the ruby shone brightly when the moonlight hit it. It looks better than when you last saw it—more refined, more polished. How did he find it? 

Jungkook's eyes pierced through your soul—if you had one. "Care to tell me why I found it on the neck of a presumptuous countess?"

Eyes still on the necklace itself, you find yourself missing the sight of it. Still, you had a front to uphold. "What were you doing with the presumptuous countess in the first place?" you retort back with a tilt of your head as you clasp your hands behind your back to appear indifferent. 

It's but a jab, of course. He would've been approaching her with the intent of feeding from her—likely killed her for having the necklace itself. That's the sort of being he became. 

There's a break in his glare—offended by your implications—but he sighs as he looks down at the necklace he stole for you centuries ago. "I understand you despise me, jagi," his voice walks a thin line between emotionless and rage, "but to throw this away?" 

The endearment he used to call you draws butterflies from within you on instinct, even if it did hurt to hear it in such a tone.

Your former flame sets it gently on the dining table, a manner in contrast to his pre-existing attitude. "I'm hurt, jagi," he spat at you with a tight-lipped smile as his eyes flash red for a moment. "Really, I am."

In hindsight, you probably should've kept your mouth shut; should've let him walk through that door—let him think that you really did abandon one of the things that embodied what you had. There'll finally be a more profound reason to not have him and his presence in your life. 

Alas, you didn't have enough reason in you at the moment to think of it. 

Perhaps, it was pride—you refusing to be assumed doing something so heartless like that between the both of you. 

Perhaps, it was nostalgia—you wanting to save the precious memories that necklace held from losing to a misunderstanding.

Perhaps, it was foolishness—you simply not thinking at all, simply letting that foolish part of you resurface. 

"I didn't throw it away."

It was soft, barely audible, but Hell knows he's not a mortal anymore to not hear it. Jungkook halts in his steps, his back still turned on you but he moves his head just the slightest bit. He's listening. 

"I fled to the Americas after what… happened," you tell him, as you approach the dining table. "After a few decades of relative peace, I was accused of being a witch while staying in a town," you shrug, tracing the ruby gem with a finger. 

"They hanged me and buried me in an unmarked grave," you say, your hand reaching around your neck as the memory of the rope tightening around it lingered for a moment. Thankfully, they thought you the wrong kind of supernatural. Otherwise, a stake through the heart and you really would've died. "When I came to, I found my cottage ransacked—the necklace gone, among other things."

You look at the necklace, wondering since when you last really saw it before everything that happened. After Jungkook turned—that wretched day—you buried that necklace under your other belongings, ignoring it existed even if you didn't have the heart to get rid of it. 

"I tried looking for it, but to no avail," you say, a hint of a sheepish smile on your lips attempting to break the somber atmosphere. "You know I've never been good at finding things."

Looking up, you see that he has turned towards you, nostrils flared and his fists clenched. For someone who's been human more recently than you were, Jungkook definitely held distaste for mankind. Reasonable, of course, but you knew he didn't like the way you were so pliant with them. 

Something unpleasant settles in you—guilt, perhaps over losing the necklace, and then some. "I'm sorry," you say before you can help yourself. 

Gathering ahold of yourself, you straighten yourself and turn your attention back to the object of this discussion.

Perhaps, it isn't meant for you. 

Perhaps, it's destiny that you lost the necklace and it lands back to his graces. 

Perhaps, it is meant to be the last of your goodbye to Jungkook. 

"You can take it back," you tell him, picking the necklace up in your hands and turning towards him, but Jungkook takes it from your grasp before you can even hand it over properly. For a moment, your heart shatters, thinking he does think you unworthy of the necklace and all that it entailed. 

Suddenly, however, you see him effortlessly unclasping the thing in his hands. "Nonsense," Jungkook refuses, icy but well-meaning in a way that flutters your unbeating heart as he gingerly drapes the necklace around your neck. His touch is cold—as you vampires are—but the warmth it incited in you was the same as it had been two centuries ago. 

Jungkook's gaze tantalizingly raked over you, drinking in the sight of the ruby gems once again twinkling across your chest. Eyes as red as the rubies on your neck soon pinned into yours, and for a moment you think there's some fondness behind that smirk he gives you. 

"You best not lose it again, jagi," he tells you, a warning and a tease.

And he's out the door. 

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 : @mwitsmejk​ @dreamamubarak

[superbattrash]

What Happens on Nereid... part4

....I know what I said, okay, don’t come for me. This is the SECOND to last chapter. Hopefully. (let’s all cross our fingers lol) My apologies for the cliffhanger, guys! 

Here are part 1, part 2 and part 3. 

Enjoy :D 

There’s something in the water, Bruce is sure of it. He can’t prove it, of course, but he doesn’t have to. He can tell – from his actions to his words, to his damn thoughts. There has to be something in the water. Because there is no way he would be this careless without outside influence, and Clark being… Clark doesn’t count.

Clark being Clark is an issue though. Not big enough that Bruce can’t handle it – he hopes – but still. It’s enough that he’s considering if they should try to go for a spaceship before Clark has his powers back. If they stay on Nereid much longer Bruce isn’t sure what other idiotic things, he could end up doing. Or sharing. Or wanting.

He tries really hard not to think about how good, how right it felt. How perfectly Clark fits between his thighs. The second the thought crossed his mind he made sure to put distance between them. At least Clark has the decency to look away from Bruce’s face as he tries to compose himself. He shouldn’t have done that, should’ve come up with a better solution than grinding against Clark. It didn’t matter how nice it felt, how much more he wanted, how long he'd wanted to feel Clark underneath him…

As he said, something in the water. That has to be it.

Bruce makes sure they leave the cabin soon after that. He can’t stand being cooped up in the small room alone with Clark. Even his cowl feels tighter than usual and forgoes his Kevlar when they leave. He’s not sure he would be able to breathe through the several layers. When Clark takes his hand, he nearly jumps out of his own skin. He’s being stupid.

They walk to the large table but this time it isn’t packed with aliens, it’s just Adeim and Genevivre sitting with another alien. They look up when Bruce and Clark approaches and Bruce has to remember to school his expression into one of head-over-heels-in-love instead of grimacing at all the eyes staring at him.

When Clark looks at him, he’s pretty sure he’s not doing the best job at the in-love look, so he just tugs Clark closer and very much does not take joy in the fact that he can do that right now because Clark doesn’t have all his powers. If he’s got any left at this point. He seemed rather vulnerable yesterday, when he fell over his own legs in a haste to participate in a silly dance. Bruce can’t really explain why holding a piece of cloth to Clark’s nose and telling him he’s an idiot while stroking his hair has his stomach twisting up even hours later, but it does. He really should take the time to examine the food they’re eating.

Clark doesn’t seem to be behaving differently, so maybe it’s something that only affects humans. Bruce isn’t sure the aliens would take kindly to him asking for a sample to take home. It might be considered a tad rude.

“Greetings,” Adeim says.

Bruce nods while Clark jumps directly into the conversation like he was born to do so. He probably was. There’s a reason the League goes to Clark when they have problems or want to talk. He’s easy to open up to; Bruce would know. He’s only been alone with Clark for a mere two days and he already knows more about Bruce than anyone outside his family ever has. It should leave Bruce with a bitter taste, or paranoia in the back of his mind, but all he feels is the need to share even more.

He squashes that feeling as they sit down at the table.

Another day, another fruit. At this point there’s no reason not to eat it – he needs the strength and he’s already been exposed to their nutrients – but Bruce still hesitates.

“You want some of mine?” Clark asks quietly. His is a fruit with a hard shell, the color a pretty lime green. It looks… less worrying than the pink mess that’s in front of Bruce. He nods minutely and Clark breaks a large piece off and offers it to him after removing the outer shell. Ever the gentleman.  

Bruce nearly reaches for the fruit before he notices how Genevivre is looking at them. Their eyes seem narrowed and they’re sitting very close to Adeim. Bruce knows it’s idiotic – there’s no way they can tell that he and Clark aren’t actually a bonded couple – yet he still makes a split-second decision to open his mouth and take a bite of the fruit from Clark’s hand.

Clark, thankfully, doesn’t flinch or drop the fruit. He barely even looks surprised, if anything he looks… pleased? Bruce isn’t sure he’s reading the expression right and he doesn’t have time to wonder about it because the next bite he takes has juices drip down his chin. He pulls back to rub his sleeve over it, but before he can get that far, Clark has reached out towards him. He swipes a thumb through the mess on Bruce’s chin and without breaking eye contact he then puts that thumb into his own mouth.

Bruce’s brain short-circuits.

There’s no way Clark just did that. He must’ve noticed the aliens staring too. Right? That’s the only viable explanation as to why he would do something like that. Bruce’s brain eventually reboots, and he just hopes nobody noticed. It would be bad if Adeim and Genevivre saw it, but what really has Bruce’s blood pump is the possibility of Clark seeing. Bruce has never been happier that he kept the cowl on. It’s one thing to feel these things but it is quite another to have Clark witness them before Bruce has the chance to prove that it’s the water – or the food – or anything else on this planet that has his heart skip a beat and his blood thrum in his veins. He's certain the flutter he feels in his stomach when Clark looks at him must be because of these factors as well.

Bruce has always been a big fan of denial.

He’s sure there’s more conversation, words leaving his mouth, but he could not tell you what they were even if you put a gun to his head. The entire time he’s trying not to stare at Clark’s mouth, and when has this become a thing? Bruce can’t exactly shake his head to clear it of thoughts with both Clark and the aliens so near, so he’s stuck with in a whirlwind of his own making. Since when has he been this obsessed with Clark? He doesn’t want to look too closely at it, afraid he’ll see his own obsession spanning back weeks or months, maybe even from the first moment he laid eyes on Clark.

When he takes a fifth bite from Clark’s hands – handfeeding, who would’ve thought they’d end up here of all places? – his lips brush over Clark’s fingers and Bruce finds himself on the end of a very intense pair of blue eyes. It wasn’t intentional but the way Clark’s eyes are trailed on his mouth makes Bruce believe Clark is either a) a much better actor than he thought or b) affected by whatever it is that has Bruce’s nerves all wound up.

He finds an excuse – a bath, they’d like to bathe together, like yesterday, and that has the aliens’ eyes light up, and Bruce has no doubt in his mind that they watched them and isn’t that a thing he’d rather not ever have realized – for them to leave the table. Clark follows him willingly, but really, what else can he do when they’re practically attached by their hands?

Now that he’s aware though – he instantly notices the many eyes looking at them as they walk through the village and beyond. He can’t see them, but he can feel their presence even as he tugs on Clark’s hand, pulling him close.

“What is it?” Clark asks and instinctively shields Bruce with his body. The gesture has the butterflies in Bruce’s stomach flutter wildly, but he ignores them. Now is not the time. There isn’t ever a right time for butterflies but least of all when they’re stuck on an alien planet.

“Can’t you feel them?” he asks, instead of acknowledging how close they suddenly are. If he breathes in deep enough, his chest will touch Clark’s. He keeps his breathing shallow but even.

Clark doesn’t seem to notice as he looks around discreetly. His free hand comes up to rub soothingly at Bruce’s arm and it takes all of Bruce’s willpower not to yank his arm away or even worse, lean further into Clark. He’s getting closer and closer to something he can’t turn back from and he’s not sure if he wants to run screaming in the other direction or just jump directly off the ledge. For now, he’ll stand still.

The hand on his arm is what drags Bruce back to the present. He got lost in his thoughts. Again. He hasn’t had any water today, hasn’t drank anything. Maybe he should take a closer look at that particular feeling in his chest. Not now, though.

“They’re staring,” Clark whispers. There’s no way he can actually tell where they are, there’s still at least another twelve hours until the suns will be high in the sky, even if they’ve started rising. His powers haven’t magically returned for no reasons. At least Bruce hopes not; he doesn’t want to explain the many times his heart has skipped a beat this morning.

“They’re waiting for something,” Bruce says, pulling his mind back to the conversation at hand.

“Probably an encore,” Clark mutters but Bruce hears him clearly.

“From this morning, perhaps?” he can’t help but say. He knows Clark can’t see it, but he raises his eyebrows even as he tries not to smirk. They did give a great performance although it wasn’t the smoothest plan Bruce has ever come up with.

“You were rather convincing.”

“I wasn’t the one who convinced them,” Bruce reminds him. There is no way in hell he’ll ever be able to get the sound – or visual – of Clark choking out that breathy noise out of his head. It wasn’t the sound as much as how he looked, to be fair. Nobody sounds sexy when the moan is punched out of their chest by an ass on their dick. Still, the way he’d looked… The way his eyes had rolled just slightly, the way his stomach contracted underneath Bruce. The hands coming up to grasp at Bruce’s hips as if to keep him there. As if Clark had wanted to pull him down again. And again. Grinding against each other until…

He nearly misses what Clark says next because of the haze in his mind.

“Well, this might seem a tad tame compared to this morning,” Clark says with a soft chuckle.

“This?” Bruce asks because he’s honestly not sure if Clark has already told him what ‘this’ is. He could’ve told Bruce the way home and he wouldn’t have been able to recall.

“Holding hands is a bit…” Clark trails off. He looks to their hands, still laced together. It isn’t even a conscious decision at this point, even though Bruce knows logically that they’re only doing it because they’re being watched.

“Small thinking?” Bruce suggests. He’s not trying to be an asshole and he’s more than okay with them just holding hands. Or well, he was. He is, he is, he’s just- also maybe not as opposed to whatever else could be done to convince the aliens of their romantic involvement. If he’s really honest with himself, he wouldn’t have minded from the start, although he knows himself well enough to know he’d never admit that out loud.

“Well, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and since you don’t like being touched-” Clark starts to babble and Bruce tugs on his arm, stopping the useless words flowing from his mouth. It’s sweet, really, that Clark thinks about Bruce so much, but he really doesn’t have to. They’re both adults, they can set boundaries and keep them.

Bruce has no idea where his boundaries are right now.

Probably at the bottom underneath the ledge he’s tiptoeing on.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “When it’s you.”

“Oh.”

Bruce can’t remember ever seeing Clark this speechless. He’s just staring at him, something akin to surprise on his face. He doesn’t seem repulsed, which is always a nice sign, even if Bruce didn’t mean it as intimately as it came out. He really doesn’t mind Clark touching him; he’s not sure if it’s just because he’s gotten used to it or if it’s always been like that, but he feels safe with Clark.

“So?” Bruce prompts when Clark doesn’t look away but doesn’t say anything either.

“So, what?” Clark asks.

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” Bruce says, speaking slowly enough that even without his super senses Clark can tell that he isn’t lying. His heartrate is picking up though as he keeps speaking. He doesn’t know where the words are coming from, but he doesn’t stop them from spilling over his lips. “Can you come up with something better than holding hands? Something that might make them stop staring?”

“It sounds like you’re challenging me here, B,” Clark says, the corner of his mouth tugging up. There’s a playful glint in his eyes and Bruce takes the bait without a second thought.

“And if I am?”

Clark looks surprised for maybe half a second before his expression changes into one of determination. He reaches out and cups Bruce’s jaw. The tips of his fingers brush against the cowl and Bruce knows he shouldn’t – it doesn’t matter that the aliens won’t know who he is, he shouldn’t take it off – but he nods minutely. Clark is careful in his movements as he pulls the cowl back. Bruce blinks a few times, getting his eyes used to the natural night. Clark looks at his hair with a soft smile and then runs a hand through it. Bruce lets him.

Then Clark locks their eyes together, searching for something – maybe waiting for Bruce to tell him to stop? That’s never going to happen. Bruce’s heartrate may have sped up, but it isn’t because he doesn’t want this. Oh no, he does. It’s all he can do not to throw himself at Clark and smash their lips together. Luckily for Bruce he doesn’t have to make a move, because whatever Clark searches for in his eyes he apparently finds, and he closes the distance between them.

Jumping off the ledge it is then.

Clark’s lips are warm and slightly damn as they press against Bruce’s. He’s just run his tongue over them, and Bruce finds himself wishing he’d do it again, just so he could taste him properly. He’s very gentle, cradling Bruce’s jaw in one hand, while still holding onto Bruce’s with the other. Bruce tries to keep his eyes open, to be vigilant, but they’re fluttering shut as Clark pull him closer by the hand. This time their chests do touch and Bruce regrets not doing this earlier. Clark tilts his head a bit to the side and sucks gently on Bruce’s lower lip for a short moment. Bruce’s entire body feels like it’s on fire.

Clark pulls back and Bruce tells himself he doesn’t sway a little to follow him.

“How was that?” Clark asks and if he didn’t know any better, Bruce would say he’s a little out of breath.

“Pretty sure you can do better than that,” falls out his mouth before his brain has a chance to keep up. It kickstarts and tries to come up with a valid reasoning, which thankfully he finds rather quickly. “They’re still looking.”

“Oh, well, why don’t you come up with something then, Mr. Full-of-ideas?” Clark’s teasing tone has something snap inside Bruce’s mind. Something that he doesn’t want to look at, doesn’t want to think about, but now it’s here. Now it’s out in the open.

“Gladly,” he says.

He really shouldn’t be doing this. There has to be a reason why he’s doing this. He knows the flutter in his stomach has to come from somewhere other than his own feelings, there has to be a reason why it’s so easy, why it feels so natural to grab Clark’s shoulders and push him onto the sand. But even as he follows Clark down and settles on his lap, his mind is blank. He can’t come up with any sort of excuse as to why he’s doing this, except… except that he wants to.

“What are you doing?” Clark asks, a mix of laughter and surprise in his voice. His hands settle on Bruce’s hips and once again he’s hit with how natural, how good that feels. He’s certain it should feel weird, off-putting even, having Superman’s hands on him but it isn’t, not in the least.

“Coming up with a better plan,” Bruce mutters, because it’s the only excuse he has, even though he knows exactly how thin an excuse it is. He doesn’t believe it for a second and he doubts Clark does either.

“And that plan involves you…” Clark trails off, hinting at Bruce to finish his sentence. He squeezes Bruce’s hips, not really guiding them anywhere but not moving Bruce off his lap either. It’s like he’s trying to get a feel of Bruce underneath his fingertips and the thought has Bruce squirm a little. His brain is one step behind, again, but he tries his best to figure out what his plan actually is.

“I’m not fucking you if that’s what you’re thinking,” he says and doesn’t hide his face in Clark’s neck even though he wants to. What is with his choice of words today? There’s a more delicate way to say, ‘I’m just kissing you’, he’s certain of it. He just can’t really get it past his lips before it’s too late.  

“Could’ve fooled me,” Clark says with a low chuckle. He rolls his hips up to meet Bruce’s, pulling him down at the same time, just once. The movement – and friction – makes Bruce acutely aware of the fact that he is very much getting hard. Harder, he should say. Oops.

“Natural reaction,” he grumbles, because it is. He doesn’t have to be in love with Clark to find him attractive. Wait-

“Aha, it’s nothing to do with me, right?” Clark is grinning like a fool now and Bruce’s head is spinning a little.

“Right,” he says.

“Just trying to make it look real for them, right?” Clark prods. He slides his hands further up Bruce’s sides but doesn’t move his hips again. Bruce wishes he would and then instantly hopes it doesn’t show on his face.

“Right,” he repeats, although less confident this time.

“Let me help you out there.”

Clark reaches up to cup the back of Bruce’s head before he flips them around as easily as if he was moving a child around. Bruce does his best to cover up the shiver that runs down his spine. Even without all his powers Clark is ridiculously strong and agile. Maybe not as much as Bruce but it’s close. When his back lands on the sand Bruce looks up at Clark’s grinning face.

“See? Teamwork-”

“If the next words out of your mouth are makes the dream work, I will bite off your tongue.”

“Alright, okay, geez,” Clark laughs. He still has one hand behind Bruce’s head while the other is planted in the sand.

“Powers are coming back nicely, I see,” Bruce comments when all Clark does is stare at him. He’s looking over his face, taking in the little details and Bruce wonders what he’s seeing. The crow’s feet, the near-permanent dark circles underneath his eyes? The speck of brightness around his irises other lovers have pointed out, if he’s let them stare at him long enough?

“Slowly though,” Clark says. He’s a little out of breath, this time Bruce is sure of it. “Probably shouldn’t use them up too fast.”

“How long before you’re back to full power?”

“Not sure.” Clark shrugs. “At least another few hours. The sun- the suns are only starting to rise.”

Bruce looks at the way his lips are glistening when he pokes his tongue out to wet them. They’re a little red, not enough that anyone would be able to tell that he’s just been kissed, but enough that Bruce knows.

“Perfect,” he says softly. He’s not nearly as careful as Clark was when he flips them back around. Clark looks a little stunned when his back hits the ground. If they keep this up, they’re going to roll all the way into the nearest lake. Bruce wouldn’t mind; the cold water might help cool his head down enough for him to be able to think. For now, though…

“Is this okay?” he asks, just to be absolutely certain. It’s one thing to want to kiss Clark but to do it in public like this – even if it isn’t their public. They’re still being watched, and although that’s the last thing Bruce wants to focus on right now, he has to make sure Clark is comfortable with this.

“It’s more than okay.”

“You’ll tell me if-”

“I have not been able to think about anything else since this morning,” Clark says as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. It brings his face even closer to Bruce’s.

“Ah.” Bruce is not sure what else he can really say. Except maybe the truth. There’s a beat and then: “Me neither.”

Bruce can feel Clark grin against his mouth when he kisses him again and he’s pretty sure it’s pulling a smile out of him as well, but he doesn’t think too hard about that. Instead, he focuses on the feel of Clark’s jaw underneath his hands, his warm lips pressed again his own. The way his hands find their way back to his waist, squeezing and running over his sides, like Clark isn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Bruce can relate to that feeling.

Clark kisses Bruce like he needs the air in his lungs, like he simultaneously wants to swallow Bruce whole and preserve him like he’s something special, something precious. He’s gentle but firm in his movements, he doesn’t stutter as he pulls Bruce closer. He’s confident and calm even as he pants against Bruce’s lips.

Clark tastes divine. Bruce knows it’s probably all in his head, but he doesn’t care, he can’t care anymore. All he wants to do is disappear into Clark’s arms, hold him tight and never let go. The feelings wash over him like a tsunami, and he grabs onto Clark tighter, pulls at him stronger, more out of control. Clark takes it all; takes all Bruce wants to give him.  

Apparently even aliens on Nereid have limits when it comes to public display of affection because it doesn’t take them many minutes to disappear after Bruce has settled on top of Clark again. Not that Bruce or Clark notices right away.

At some point though, even Batman has to come up for air – Bruce is pretty sure Clark doesn’t need to breathe, so it’s really on him to put an inch of distance between them while he tries to get air into his lungs. The air coincidentally reboots his brain, at least enough that he can think things that don’t include ‘more’, ‘yes’ and ‘please’, and he untangles himself from Clark’s body as non-panicky and politely as he can. He feels the heat in his cheeks and it’s only then he realizes how much of an idiot he is.

His cowl. He took it off, just because of a kiss. Damn it.

When he looks at Clark, his dazed expression and the dumb little smile on his lips, Bruce can’t really regret it. The flutter in his stomach has settled down but not disappeared completely and he tries his best not to cringe as the words ‘in love’ runs through his mind.

Bruce stands and brushes the worst of the sand off his knees. God, this is embarrassing. He couldn’t keep his urges in check for two more minutes, so they could’ve at least made it to the cabin? He looks to Clark, who is still a bit dazed but there’s uncertainty in his eyes now as well. Bruce refrains from rolling his eyes and offers Clark a hand up. They just had their tongues down each other’s throats and Clark already thinks he’s messed up somehow, even though it’s Bruce who has to adjust himself in his pants discreetly.

Bruce lets go of Clark’s hand the moment he’s standing and then he bends down to retrieve the cowl. There’s no reason for him to keep wearing it now, but some habits die hard and he tugs it on – if nothing else then to hide at least some of the blush on his face. Shit, he’s too old to feel this… this… He can’t come up with a better word than silly. At least not when there are a few phrases he’s trying very hard to avoid, even in his own mind.

“Should we talk about-” Clark asks as he follows Bruce towards their cabin.

The cabin, not their cabin. God, Bruce really needs to get them off this planet before he completely loses his mind.

“No,” he says instantly. There’s a pause and Bruce turns to look at Clark. The wounded puppy look on Clark’s face has Bruce sigh so he tries again, gentler this time: “Is there something you would like to say?”

“Yes,” comes immediately and Bruce’s pulse races. “I’m sorry.”

Even though he’s expected Clark to regret it, to think it had been too much, it still sends pain shooting through his chest. He knows Clark doesn’t see him that way. Someone as honest as Clark would’ve said something by now if that was the case. This has just been... a heat of the moment thing and that’s all there is to it. He opens his mouth to tell Clark that it’s alright, but he doesn’t get that far.

“For taking your cowl off,” Clark continues. “I should’ve known better than to do that.”

Huh. That was not the apology Bruce had been expecting. He’d much rather have this one though.

“I could’ve just said no,” he says with a shrug. Or he could’ve turned away, walked off, done anything besides throw himself at Clark with all the feelings of a teenage girl in love. He’s pretty sure Clark gets his point, so he doesn’t have to point those particular things out.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. Maybe he wanted to look Clark properly in the eyes? Maybe he wanted to kiss him as Bruce and not as Batman. For once he doesn’t have a complete answer to his own actions.

“Do you regret it?”

Bruce can’t tell if Clark is referring to the kiss itself or removing his cowl. Either way his answer is the same.

“No,” he says. “Do you?”

“No,” Clark responds and there’s a softer smile on his face now. “No, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Bruce nods and turns back towards the trail when Clark quietly says: “Even if there weren’t any aliens around.”

This time when Clark takes Bruce’s hand it feels different. There’s a warmth there, a closeness that Bruce didn’t realize was missing before. He looks into Clark’s brilliant blue eyes and wonders if perhaps being taken to Nereid was a blessing in disguise, even if it was technically a kidnapping.

What’s a little kidnapping if this – if Clark – is what he gets for his troubles?

***

They meet Adeim and Genevivre for another meal later in the day. Even if being kidnapped is what brought these feelings to the surface, Bruce would much rather explore them back on Earth. They need to find a way to get home. A delicate way to ask to leave the planet without insulting their hosts.

They’re doing an alright job of asking, if you ask Bruce. Clark sits close to him – closer than he’s been allowed the past two days – and Bruce takes comfort in his presence. He plasters his best smile onto his face as he enquires about borrowing one of their spaceships. Clark isn’t back to full strength yet, but they’re both prepared in case the aliens take offense and attack.

“Oh, I do apologize,” Adeim says. “Our pods take at least-” there’s a static as the translator converts their time. “A hundred years to charge. And we can’t very well let you have one of our battleships.”

“A hundred-” Clark splutters next to him.

“That’s fine,” Bruce interjects quickly. They don’t need the pod to be fueled and fully charged; they just need a vessel for transport. “S- my partner can fly us back.”

“I can?” Clark blinks a few times.

“He can?” Adeim echoes.

“I chose the strongest man on Earth,” Bruce says, lacing their fingers together as he looks at Adeim. He hopes he’s been reading this alien right when he leans a little closer into Clark’s shoulder. “As I’m sure you can understand.”

Bruce isn’t sure aliens can blush, but he is certain that the lewd look in both Adeim and Genevivre’s many eyes doesn’t need translation.

“All we would need is one of your pods,” Bruce adds, hoping he sounds innocent enough to be believable. “Would that be acceptable?”

“Well now that you have shown how much-” Genevivre sucks in a breath and shudders. “Passion humans can possess; we shall allow it.”

Bruce wants to smack himself, because of course they were watching them too. It couldn’t just be a bunch of the other inhabitants, no, of course it had to be the two leaders getting their rocks off by watching him and Clark make out. While Bruce tries hard to swallow his embarrassment, Clark’s smile is bright enough to light an entire city. The idiot. His smile has hardly hit his face before Genevieve continues: “We will be back for those minerals, though.”

“You-” Clark balks.

“Not for another-” more static. “Hundred years, obviously, but still. Be prepared to greet us.”

“Of course,” Bruce is quick to respond. There’s no reason to agitate them any further. By the time they’ll come back to Earth, Bruce will have come up with a proper plan of defense even though he’ll be long gone by then.

“Then you shall have one of our ships,” Adeim says. “Although we are sad to see you go.”

“We have-” Bruce struggles to find the right words, but Clark is quick to finish his sentence.

“We have children and friends waiting,” he says. “Family at home. We would like to go back and be with them.”

“Of course,” Genevivre says with a small smile. Several of her eyes trail off to the side, towards a group of smaller aliens and Bruce suspects at least a few of them are their offspring. “You must remember to keep us informed of your ceremony.”

“Ceremony?” Bruce frowns.

“The wedding,” Clark says as he wraps his arm around Bruce’s middle. “Of course, we’ll find a way to let you know.”

Great. If this thing actually works out between them and they end up wanting to marry each other, Bruce is going to have to make sure the venue is alien friendly. Clark and his big mouth. Bruce pushes the thought away, primarily because he feels his cheeks heat up at the image of marrying Clark. Too soon, too soon. He doesn’t want to get married either way. Probably.

They talk back and forth some more – it’s mainly Adeim and Clark doing the talking, while Bruce and Genevivre eats – and in the end they agree to let them borrow a spaceship the next day. It’s later than Bruce would’ve wanted but he knows Clark needs time to recover as well.

It doesn’t take Clark the full thirty-four hours to be back to full strength. As soon as the suns have started rising on the sky, he keeps getting stronger by the minute. It’s a good thing, Bruce knows, but he does like that Clark stays by his side even though he can technically fly wherever he wants to.

Come nightfall Bruce doesn’t build a wall of pillows between them, and he doesn’t tell Clark to keep to his side of the bed. By the looks of it, Clark is surprised but also pleased by the change of their sleeping arrangements. He’s grinning like an idiot when Bruce intentionally lays close to him. He’s about to change his mind when Clark wraps his arms around him, pulling him even closer.

Clark’s embrace is warm, it’s safe. It’s as close to a feeling of ‘home’ as Bruce has felt outside the manor in years. He grumbles a little but ultimately settles against Clark’s chest. He lets his hand trail through the hair on Clark’s chest and sighs. He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to sleep alone when they get back home. Perhaps he can convince Clark to stay over… He feels like there’s something he’s forgetting, but his eyes are getting heavy and the hand tracing pattern on his back isn’t helping. His foot bounces a few times to rid him of the last excess energy and he can’t help but smile as he feels Clark’s foot wiggle in response. He falls asleep with his head on Clark’s shoulder, listening to his breathing.

Although he’s been wanting to get off Nereid since they landed, Bruce can’t help but feel a little melancholic as they walk to the breakfast table for the last time. He knows he can’t exactly go around Gotham hand-in-hand with Clark on a daily basis so he enjoys the feeling while he can. They’ll have to have a proper talk, of course, but for now they need to get home first.

The fruits are still a tad too bitter, and the consistency is not something Bruce will miss, but seeing as this is the last meal they’ll share, he makes sure to savor it. He doesn’t want to seem too eager to leave, after all. He does dream of eating a regular apple once he gets to the manor. He’ll have his hands full explaining where he’s been for three days, but he’s sure Alfred can make time for a grocery run too. He needs normal, human food. Safe foods to be exact. His teeth are itching to feel bread again.

Adeim and Genevivre show them to the pod they’re borrowing, and Bruce’s eyes widens when he sees how big it is. He’d thought it would be a small vessel, but apparently their hosts have prepared a larger one for them. He doesn’t particularly mind. They have also fueled it as much as they’ve been able to on such short notice, Genevivre explains. It might be able to take them back to Earth – it’s only a few lightyears away, right? – but in case in doesn’t, are they sure Clark will be able to take them home?

They absolutely are.

When they go onboard the ship, Adeim hands him a small vial of liquid and even though it’s physically impossible for them, Bruce still swears they’re winking at him.

“If you need a little help when you get home,” they say.

“Help?” Bruce asks with a frown. It looks like regular water to him, like the lake they’ve bathed in, the liquid they’ve been drinking for days. The way Adeim hands it to him though and their words… there’s something off about this. Bruce holds the vial in his hand carefully.

“The water here on Nereid is… special,” Adeim tells him and once again smiles like they’re sharing a little secret. “Passion isn’t always easy to come by.”

Oh.  

Bruce feels like he’s been hit by Doctor Freeze’s Cold Gun.

So, there was something in the water. It wasn’t his imagination. They’ve been manipulated from the start. He feels like his throat is closing on him and doesn’t hear what else Adeim tells him. There’s a buzzing in his ears and he can’t breathe properly.

Has any of the things he’s felt – they’ve felt – even been real? He looks to where Clark is smiling at him from inside the spaceship. Waiting so patiently for him with something akin to love in his eyes.

Shit.

[t0wnspersonb]

Better Off As Lovers (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)

Word Count: 5,076

Warnings: SMUT, oral (female receiving), bad language, my shit writing

~~~~

salty4tsukki

said:

hello! i luv ur blog sm!! can i pls req a scenario (or hc if that’s easier) of tsukki and reader going from enemies to lovers? perhaps reader ended up doing tsukki a solid that saved his ass and that marked the turning point of their relationship? sfw+nsfw if that’s oki!! tysm in advanced :-)

~~~~

Here is some spice for you guys. I hope you like it, I had a lot of fun writing it lol. Tsukishima is such a fucking prick, I absolutely love it. @salty4tsukki​ I hope this was what you had wanted, also thank you so much for your support! Requests are closing tomorrow! I’m slowly but surely making my way through all of the requests and writing stuff up. I should probably be focusing on school but ya girl is avoiding responsibilities right now lmao. I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend!😚😚😚

~~~~

“You’re literally the fucking worst.” you hissed; eyes narrowed into slits. “I bet hell gave you back to earth because you’re worse than Satan himself.”

 All you got in response was a raise of a blonde eyebrow and an ignorant smirk.

 “You want to get hit? Is that what you’re asking for?” You threatened, holding your fist up for emphasis.

 You had never been more upset; in all honesty you probably wouldn’t have been this annoyed about the situation if it was someone else. 

 But because it was him, you knew that it was intentional, it wasn’t an accident as everyone else was making it seem.

 “Now, now…” Koganegawa said, stepping between the two of you. “Tsukki didn’t know that was your dessert. It was an honest mistake.”

 “That’s not an honest mistake Kanji!” You screeched. “I literally told everyone how excited I was to finally get my hands on that famous strawberry shortcake from that bakery! I got the last slice and he went and ate it!” you pointed at the tall blonde accusingly; who’s smirk was growing wider and wider as you wailed about the unfairness of it all.

 “Can’t you just go get another one?” Kyoutani huffed, rolling his eyes from his spot on the floor.

 “They’re famous for a reason Kentarou! I had to get up super early to stand in line! And even then, the line was super long! I waited for hours! You think I’m going to do that again!?” You were all but hysterical now.

 You might have already been having a rough day though, and your missing cake was the cherry on top to it all.

 The soft huff of a laugh caused you to whirl around, your tiny fists coming up to hit Tsukishima on his chest repeatedly.

 “You’re the fucking worst!” you huffed out, frustrated tears springing to your eyes. The tall blonde was full on laughing at you now, much to your embarrassment and anger.

 You couldn’t lie, it was a tad bit irrational to get so upset over a missing slice of cake. But it was a long sucky day, you were looking forward to that delicious morsel of strawberry goodness after practice, and it wasn’t fucking there.

 “You’re so weak,” Tsukishima mused, easily grasping your hands in his large ones, preventing you from hitting him further.

 Despite his rude words, his grip was surprisingly gentle. 

 You still ripped your hands away from his in anger. 

 “Don’t touch me, you thief.” You growled, cradling your hands against your chest, eyes glaring into the tall male.

 “You’re so annoying. I already apologized.” Tsukishima said, stretching his arms above his head. 

 “An apology won’t bring back my cake!” You snapped, grabbing your stuff from the floor. “You’re the worst Tsukishima. Let’s go already, Kentarou.” You huffed.

 The said male rolled his eyes before saying goodbye to his teammates, following you out of the gym.

 You were still fuming quietly as you two walked home together.

 Funnily enough, you had developed a close friendship with the small male, which resulted in him walking you home since he lived close by. 

 “I hate him.” You whined, tugging at the bottom of Kyoutani’s team jacket.

 He swatted your hand away, causing you to whine again, reaching for him once more, he sighed in irritation but let you hold onto his jacket this time.

 “You guys just need to fuck already.” He said.

 You stopped walking; causing Kyoutani to be yanked back since you were holding onto his jacket. 

 “What the fuck Y/n?” He growled.

 “I would never in a million years have sex with someone like him.” You said, face twisting in disgust.

 Kyoutani had definitely lost his mind with that comment. Tsukishima was your enemy, your opposite half, the worst person that you have ever met, there was just no way.

 “Are you serious?” He asked deadpanned. “It’s so disgustingly obvious you two like each other.” 

 You rolled your eyes at him, releasing his jacket from your grasp as you guys continued walking. “You’re blind Kentarou, we hate each other.”

 “I think you’re the one who’s blind Y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow for morning practice.” he said waving goodbye to you as you entered your home.

 The rest of your night was plagued with thoughts of Tsukishima, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth despite the fact that you had brushed your teeth.

 There was no way that Tsukishima liked you, nor you him. You did find him incredibly attractive, but who wouldn’t? He was tall and muscular, incredibly intelligent, and he was a good volleyball player. 

 Of course, people would find him attractive, but his personality was anything but, to you at least.

 Your first ever interaction with him was entirely unpleasant, his mocking attitude and sarcastic comments left you with the worst impression of him, and it resulted in how you felt about him now.

 But then… What did Kyoutani mean about you being blind?

 You screamed loudly into your pillow.

 ****

 “You look terrible.” Tsukishima raised his eyebrow at you, taking in your disheveled form.

 “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” You muttered, rubbing at your eyes tiredly. 

 Tsukishima was actually quiet for once, somehow you had missed the flash of concern that shot through his eyes.

 That didn’t go unnoticed by Kyoutani, who rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath how dense both of you were.

 Practice ran smoothly, there surprisingly wasn’t any sarcastic comments directed at you from Tsukishima. For the most part, he left you alone today, much to your relief.

 Now you were currently in one of the history classes you were a TA in. Between managing a volleyball team, and being a teaching assistant, it was no wonder you were always stressed out.

 Funnily enough, Tsukishima was one of the students in that class. 

 “We’re going to hand back your midterm essays now.” The professor announced. You grabbed the papers from your folder and started walking around the class handing them back to the nervous students.

 Your brows furrowed as you had realized that you only held three more papers in your hand, you hadn’t even given Tsukishima’s - oh. Your eyes widened slightly as you looked over at the tall male, he looked irritated, his eyes finding yours, there was a slight shake to his head.

 He had never turned in the essay. 

 That’s right, the essay was due around the same time that volleyball practices were incredibly strenuous in preparation for some important matches.

 But the midterm essay counted as a large portion of the grade, which meant that if Tsukishima received a zero, then he would fail the class, which meant that he wouldn’t be allowed to play volleyball any -

 “I seemed to have made a mistake Professor.” You said. “I think I lost Tsukishima’s paper…”

 What were you doing?

 Shit, you could get in big trouble for this so why were you doing this?

 “It’s not like you to be scatterbrained like this Y/n.” the Professor shook his head. “I swear you take on too many tasks, between this and being a team manager… Tsukishima, do you mind turning in the paper again to Y/n? Let us say… by the end of the day?”

 “It’s no problem sir.” Tsukishima said quietly, eyes glancing over to you as you finished handing out the last of the essays.

 “I’m sorry Tsukishima, I hope you can forgive me.” You said sweetly, bowing at him slightly.

 What the fuck?

 What the actual fuck were you doing?

 Tsukishima was taken back by your tone and your show of respect towards him, that was new. 

 That was… shit was he blushing? He ignored the creeping heat in his face and the slightly quicker thump of his heart. He pushed his glasses up slightly. “It’s not a problem.” he said quietly.

 You nodded at him once more as you made your way back towards the front of the room, ignoring the rising blush in your own face and the racing of your own heart. You got lucky that the professor really took a liking to you as his TA, you could get away with murder when it came to this class.

 Tsukishima was incredibly lucky as well, he was the top student in this class, never missed any assignments, always participated in class, so of course the professor was going to be more lenient with him.

 No one would have ever guessed that he had never turned in his midterm, except you.

 That was something that you didn’t understand, why would you help him out? 

 It was because he was just part of your team, right? You were doing this because you wanted your team to succeed right? He was one of the best players you had, so if you lost him that would hurt the team… that was why, right?

 Or maybe… maybe Kyoutani was right.

 Maybe, just maybe, by chance you actually did harbor a small attraction to the tall blonde.

 ****

 The rest of the day was seemingly uneventful, and you found yourself wrapping up the evening volleyball practice.

 “Hey.” an all too familiar voice called out, a sudden shadow being cast over your small form as you began picking up the volleyballs on the floor.

 You glanced up to see Tsukishima looking down at you, curiosity clear in his gold eyes.

 “What is it?” You asked, ignoring the quickening of your heart. What was wrong with you?

 “Why did you do that?” he asked, beginning to pick up the balls.

 “What do you mean?” You sighed tiredly, you just wanted to go home. You had no energy left in your body to argue with the snarky male before you.

 “You knew that I didn’t turn in the paper… why did you lie to the professor like that?” He asked quietly.

 “Well…” your eyes slid over to him before looking down at the ball in your hands. “I knew that the professor would cut you some slack since you are one of his favorite students… plus… it would be bad if you got a zero, right? You would’ve failed the class…” You trailed off, your eyes glancing back up at him, taking notice to the small smirk that began to cover his lips.

 “- and we can’t afford to lose one of our players! You’re tall and stupid but you’re a decent player so that’s why I did it! I didn’t want to hurt the team just because you were being stupid and forgetful!” You said, voice annoyed as you all but slammed the volleyball into his arms. “Hurry up and put those away, I want to go home.” you huffed, stalking away.

 You hadn’t noticed the small smile that overtook his face as he watched you walk away.

 “Are you ready to go?” You asked once you guys had finished cleaning up, Kyoutani nodded, grabbing his bag from the floor.

 “Hold on.” a hand grabbed the back of your jacket, yanking you back into a warm and broad chest.

 You blinked up to see Tsukishima peering down at you, eyebrows raised. 

 You could feel your face burn at his proximity and as you stumbled away from him. 

 “W-What is it now?” You stuttered out.

 “Here. Professor said to give it to you by the end of the day. I just had to reprint it out.” he said, handing you his midterm.

 Your eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you actually did the assignment?”

 “It was already done, I just forgot to submit it.” he said, shrugging.

 “And I thought you were just lazy and didn’t do it at all.” You said in awe, eyes skimming through the papers.

 “Don’t put me in with the likes of you.” he snorted, eyes rolling, although there was an unseen fondness swimming within those golden orbs, unseen to you at least. It was entirely apparent to Kyoutani who seemed to have a larger scowl on his face.

 “Shut up stupid! I’m going to grade your paper harshly now!” you hissed, glaring at him.

 “You can try,” he drawled out. “But I did the assignment perfectly. I shouldn’t get anything less than an A.”

 “We’ll see.” you snapped.

 ****

 “Stupid Tsukishima. Does he have to be perfect at everything?” You grumbled to yourself as you finished grading his paper.

 He was right.

 He did the assignment perfectly.

 You shouldn’t have said anything to the professor, especially if he was going to be so smug about it.

 Why was he so infuriating? 

 You could see the flash of his smirk behind your lids when you blinked, it caused your heart to race, your fist to clench tightly together. You just wanted to slap that stupid smirk off of his stupid gorgeous face and -

 Damn it.

 It seemed like recently your thoughts were completely consumed by him. 

 “Speak of the devil.” You muttered to yourself when you noticed who was calling you.

 “What do you want?” You hissed.

 “Oh, good you are awake.” His rang smoothly through the speaker.

 “Yeah because I stayed up late to grade your midterm, so I didn’t have to worry about it over the weekend.” You huffed, sitting back in your chair.

 “Well what’s the verdict?” he asked smugly. 

 You could feel your nostrils flaring in anger at his tone. “You got an A. Which is surprising to me since you’re the biggest moron that I know.” 

 “I already told you not to lump into the same category as you.” 

 “I’m hanging up now.” you announced, your blood boiling at his comment.

 “Wait. Go open your door.” he demanded.

 You frowned. “Why would I do that?”

 “Just do it and hurry up.” you could all but see his eyes rolling.

 You huffed angrily, stalking over to your front door, and yanking it open to reveal the blonde male smirking at you.

 You could feel your brows furrow as you tried to register what was happening.

 Tsukishima, your enemy, was standing at the front of your home, cladded in his team jacket and joggers, and he was holding a bag.

 “Took you long enough.” he said, removing the phone from his ear and stepping past you into your home.

 He was already removing his shoes and placing them on the shoe rack near your front door, heading towards your kitchen.

 “Are you just going to stand there all night?” he called out, never looking back.

 That comment snapped you out of your confusion, you quietly closed the door, following after the blonde that was beginning to make tea like he was in his own home and not someone else's.

 “What are you doing?” You asked quietly, eyes following his every movement. 

 “Just be quiet and sit down.” he said simply, and for some reason… you actually listened.

 You wracked your brain for all the reasons as to why Tsukishima was in your home this late at night, using your kitchen.

 You snapped back to reality when he placed a plate and a mug in front of you. 

 Your eyebrows raised slowly, but you couldn’t help the twinkle in your eyes as you gazed at the treat before you.

 A slice of cake, but the strawberry shortcake from that bakery to be exact. The sweetness of the strawberries and cream, along with the earthy scent of the tea, caused a delicious warmth to swell up in your body.

 “How did you -”

 “It’s a thank you.” he cut you off, pulling up a chair across from you, tea and cake sitting in front of him. “For helping me out with the paper.”

 You couldn’t help the smile that began to stretch across your lips, Tsukishima seemed shy almost, embarrassed maybe? Whatever it was, it was a pleasant change from his usual scowl and smirk.

 “Did you wait long?” you asked quietly, carefully cutting into the cake. “They aren’t even open at this hour…”

 “No, the line wasn’t too bad, I went after practice finished.” he said, glancing over at you. It was a partial lie, Tsukishima did wait a long time, but he did go after practice had finished.

 “Why did you wait this long to come over then?” you asked, sighing in pleasure as you took a bite.

 There was a reason why this bakery was so famous for their strawberry shortcake, it was the best cake you had ever had.

 “I thought you might’ve been too busy in the evening, since you promised coach you would hand in those data forms tomorrow… and the in class activity we did today… you said you would grade tonight and get it back to us Monday…” he trailed off quietly, cutting into his slice.

 You blinked at him, the thumping in your heart increasing.

 Since when was he so observant with you?

 “Since always. You’ve just never noticed.” he said, gold eyes boring into your own.

 You could feel your face heating up, shit, did you really ponder that aloud?

 What was this feeling bubbling up in your gut? It burned and turned pleasantly the longer you stared at him.

 A sudden shyness washed over you as you broke eye contact, eyes casting back down to the cup of tea that was now resting between your hands.

 “O-Oh.” 

 It was silent again, it wasn’t awkward, but there was definitely something lingering heavily in the air.

 You just couldn’t place your finger on it.

 “You have something…” Tsukishima began to say, suddenly reaching over, his strong fingers gently grasped your chin, tilting it up, thumb beginning to brush at the corner of your lips.

 Without even thinking about it, your tongue darted out, swiping across his thumb, tasting the saltiness of his skin and the sweetness of the cream that had lingered at the corner of your mouth.

 Tsukishima’s eyes darkened considerably; air rushing out of his nose as he exhaled deeply. His thumb rubbing against your lower lip. 

 Your eyes glazed over, lips parting slightly, inviting him entrance to your mouth. Tsukishima’s thumb pushed past your lips, resting on your tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut, your tongue gently running along the pad of his thumb.

 You could feel the blood roaring in your ears, your stomach twisting in arousal.

 “Fuck.” he whispered, the sound of a chair being pushed back, his thumb leaving the wetness of your mouth.

 It all happened so fast, by the time you had opened your eyes Tsukishima was hauling you out of your chair and up on the counter. His large hand grasped your face firmly before slamming his lips against yours.

 You gasped, allowing his tongue to snake his way in, exploring every inch of your wet cavern.

 You couldn’t help the moan that tore through your throat, your arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders, fingers sliding into the blonde locks at the back of his head, your legs wrapping around his hips.

 Fuck, you couldn’t get enough of this. He was everywhere, warm and solid against your body; all you could smell was him, all you could taste was him and fuck did he taste good. You could still taste the sweetness of cream on his tongue, the tartness of the strawberries, and him.

 It was intoxicating.

 You were drowning in everything that was Tsukishima and fuck did you like it. The way his big hands gripped at your face, your waist, pulling you closer, kissing you deeper, it was too much.

 But it also wasn’t enough.

 “What are you - ahh - what are you doing?” you whimpered out, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he trailed his hot lips against your throat, sucking and biting at every inch of it.

 “What do you think I’m doing you idiot?” he breathed against the shell of your ear. He grinded his hips against yours causing the loud moan to escape your lips, he was hard against you.

 “I don’t…” you whined softly as he grabbed your hips, pressing you tightly against his crotch, grinding against you sinfully. “I don’t understand… Tsukki… Kei.” you whined again, hips bucking up on their own, aching for more friction.

 Fuck you were so wet, so hot and bothered, you needed him to touch you more.

 “Fuck.” he hissed out, eyes squeezing tightly together as you whined out his name. “Fuck… you’re so infuriating. You still don’t get it do you?” he growled out, nipping at your lobe as his ragged breathing increased. 

 You couldn’t muster up any words, all that escaped your lips was a drawn-out moan as one of his hands reached up and massaged one of your breasts harshly. 

 “I like you, Y/n. I’ve liked you since the very beginning. But you never… fuck…” he hissed as you slipped a hand under his shirt, nails dragging against his smooth skin. You could feel the muscles of his stomach flexing beneath your touch, the pace of his hips increasing against yours.

 “You never noticed.” he finally growled out, reaching up and yanking your shirt off your body. “The only time you ever paid attention to me was when I made you mad, you simple minded woman. It’s so easy to get you riled up…” he kissed you harshly now, teeth knocking together before he bit into your lip harshly, causing your nails to dig further into his chest.

 “But then in class when you lied straight-faced to the professor… and then when you looked at me with that sweet expression, and those wide eyes… I couldn’t help but wonder what other kinds of faces you can make for me.” he finished quietly. His breathing was labored, and his lips were swollen but the intensity of his gaze caused your body to squirm.

 “What do you say?” he asked, his voice deep and rough, his grip on you was still tight, but his hips had stilled, he was pulled back slightly from you, allowing you space to breathe.

 “Please.” You whimpered out, tears springing up in your eyes, you were too riled up now, body too hot and aching for release.

 You needed him. You needed Tsukishima to touch you more, you needed him to whisper filth into your ear, you needed to feel his skin sliding against yours, and most of all, you needed him be buried deep inside of you.

 “I need to hear you say it Y/n.” He grasped your jaw, angling your face up to his as he stared down at you. “Say it.”

 You could feel your lower lip quivering, you were aching for it, aching for him. “Kei please! Just - just fuck me already!” you wailed. “What are you waiting for!? Just fuck m-” he yanked you off of the counter, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he carried you to your couch, dropping you down haphazardly before his hands were everywhere, ripping the clothes off your body until you were completely bare.

 He stared shamelessly at your nakedness, eyes running over every curve of your body. His hands rested on your bent needs, pulling them open and staring openly at your glistening cunt.

 “Don’t look.” you whimpered, moving one of your hands to cover yourself up. He easily knocked your hand away.

 “Don’t hide yourself from me.” he said as he moved to remove the rest of his clothing. 

 Tsukishima was beautiful, long, and lean, his muscular frame exposed to your greedy eyes as you scanned his body.

 Your lips trembled at the sight of his stiff member, leaking precum and standing painfully tall.

 He grasped his cock lazily, his hand easily sliding up and down his shaft as he gazed down at you. His other hand reached down to gather the obscene amount of wetness that was gathering between your legs.

 “You’re soaked,” he moaned, eyes flashing dangerously. “You want me to fuck you? Or do you want me to taste you?”

 You could feel your mouth run dry at his questions.

 Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed slightly, his large hand coming down to swat at your thigh. You gasped the stinging sensation, your arousal spiking dramatically.

 “Answer me.” he demanded.

 Your lips trembled, eyes glazing over with unshed tears, you were so pent up, you needed something, anything that would provide you with some kind of release. 

 It was only for a moment, but there was a flash of gentleness, the hand that had swatted at your thigh rubbed at the skin tenderly. 

 “You’re so beautiful.” he said quietly, and then he was moving to situate himself between your legs, grasping at your thighs before his head ducked down and his hot tongue licked a strip up your soaked slit until it rested on your clit.

 You moaned loudly; your head being thrown back as your body trembled with pleasure.

 His tongue lapped lazily against you, flickering up and down against that swollen bundle of nerves, occasionally dipping further down, sliding into your entrance, tasting you completely before sliding back up.

 It didn’t take long for you to get close to your orgasm. Your body was taut, aching for release. It was too much almost; your fingers tangled tightly in his hair, you couldn’t tell if you were pushing him away or pulling him closer.

 All you knew was that he was giving you everything right now. Tsukishima pulled your clit into his mouth now, sucking hard, his front teeth gently brushing against it.

 Your legs were tense, thighs quacking as you approached your release, the quiet room was filled with your drawn out moans and pants, wet slurping noises escaping your lower half as Tsukishima all but devoured your cunt completely.

You came with a cry, body convulsing against the cushions of the couch, thighs trying to close together, squeezing tightly against Tsukishima’s head. You whimpered brokenly as you tried to wiggle yourself away from the blonde that was still sucking at your clit, but his grip was tight, refusing to let you go, forcing your over sensitive cunt to produce another orgasm.

 In the midst of it all, he yanked himself away, lining his stiff cock against your swollen entrance and then snapping his hips forward, sheathing himself inside of you completely.

 A loud cry tore through your lips, you were still in the middle of your orgasm when he entered, your slick gushing out around him and spilling onto the cushions below.

 “Are you gonna cum again?” he breathed watching you in awe as you struggled to adapt to his size.

 “Fuck you are.” he moaned, your tight walls fluttering around him as your third one ripped through your body. “I can’t believe you came again just from me entering you.” he breathed out, hands resting on your hips.

 Tsukishima gave you no time to adjust, his hips snapping forward harshly as he set a brutal pace.

 You could feel your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your fingers gripping at the couch, needing something, anything to hold on to.

 His cock rubbed against your walls perfectly, your body having no time to keep up with his movement, the stretch burned, the pleasure toe curling. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper, keeping him closer.

 Suddenly your world shifted, Tsukishima hauled your body up, forcing you to sit on top of his thick member. You cried out loudly, this new position caused his cock to rub up inside of you at a new angle.

 He never stopped, his large hands gripped at your hips now, forcing you up and down as you rode him, his hips snapping up to meet the downwards roll of your hips.

 All you could do was grip at his broad shoulders weakly, struggling to keep up with his pace, struggling to adjust to the new depth that he reached within you.

 But you couldn’t. You could hardly breathe, you couldn’t think of anything except for Tsukishima and the pleasure he was giving you.

 “Look at you.” he groaned, eyes never leaving your face. “You make the sweetest faces when I’m inside of you.”

 “Kei…” You sobbed. “Please.”

 You weren’t sure what you were asking for at this point, the pleasure was mind numbing, the room was filled with sounds of your moans and his grunts, the wet squelching noises of your cunt as it was being stuffed over and over again was something that might’ve embarrassed you if you had the time to even think about it. 

 But you didn’t, all you could think about was unraveling again, all you could think about Tsukishima Kei. Your enemy, the most annoying man you had ever met, but he was also the most intelligent man you had ever met, the most beautiful man you had ever met, and now he was the only man that you ever wanted to receive pleasure from. 

 You came again with a loud sob, gushing around him, dripping onto his upper thighs, body trembling against his as you collapsed on top of his chest.

 He groaned your name loudly, thrusting up sharply into your cunt once more before spilling himself into your hot center. 

 It felt like time had stopped around you as you struggled to catch your breath. You weren’t sure how long it was that you guys stayed like this.

 But you have never been more tired, more comfortable in your entire life than right now.

 You could feel your eyes drooping down, your face buried into the crook of his neck, his long fingers gently tracing delicate patterns into the skin of your back.

 Tsukishima shifted, easily picking you up, your legs wrapped around his waist, his member still buried deep inside of you. You vaguely remember answering his question about where the bathroom was and soon you found yourself perched up on the bathroom counter. 

 You could feel his cum slowly leaking out of your swollen cunt, trickling down your leg as he gently cleaned you up. You didn’t even remember how you ended up in your bed, but now you were curled up against the tall blonde, wrapped up in the security of his arms as he rubbed your back gently.

 “I still hate you Kei.” you mumbled against his chest, sighing softly before pressing your lips into his smooth skin.

 “I know.” he smirked against your hair, pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. “Go to sleep. We’ll go and get breakfast tomorrow.”

 Okay maybe you didn’t hate him, but he was still infuriating to you. 

[trackingthehuntress]

Who is James Cooper? A synopsis:

So I’ve been meaning to make a base post on this for a while, so here goes. Helena’s adopted child, forgotten by comics: James Cooper! Apologies if my image descriptions aren’t great (was planning on putting more panels when I said that, but that didn’t get in, sorry). WARNING - many spoilers ahead for Helena’s first solo. (please send an ask or a dm if you want content warnings for any of the listed issues.) 

Overall, this kid has it rough. However, through it all, he’s smart and caring. 

First appearance: The Huntress (1989) #9

[image description: a close up of a woman hugging a child. they are both dark skinned with black hair. the woman is wearing earrings. the child is wearing thick framed glasses.]

Because, see, we first meet James’ mom, Melinda. One reason I enjoy the first Huntress solo is that a good percentage of it is focused on civilian characters. This issue opens with Melinda narrating. She is a writer for a newspaper column, and the comic’s narration is the article she is working on, expressing how though her neighborhood is unsafe she feels a responsibility to stay. She expresses it better than I do, what can I say, I’m no writer. Anyways, she comes home to James being bothered by his little brother’s distractions. It’s cute.

Anyways, next we have James at his science fair. This year, his project is on “the issue of nuclear proliferation”. He explains how it would actually be pretty easy for anyone to build a nuclear bomb, given how much material would be easy to hijack. Once he explains this, someone pulls a gun on him and kidnaps him. Cut to someone telling Melinda her son was taken right from the science fair. 

Huntress (1989) #10

Here, we find out that James was kidnapped by a gang that wants people to know they mean business. They threaten and hit him in attempts to get him to agree to build the bomb, but he only starts to cooperate when they bring his family into it. Tragically, they kill his mom and little brother without telling him, because she had been putting up missing posters and organizing efforts to look for him. 

Huntress (1989) #11

The narration of this issue is that of a close friend of Melinda’s finishing her article. We see her funeral. However, no one knows where James is still, and he is almost done with the bomb. 

Huntress (1989) #12

Things have been awful for James. The gang is consistently violent towards him, and he is living in fear of their usage of his bomb. However, remember that Helena Troy post? That’s right, our favorite master of disguise has gotten a tip about what happened to him and is coming to rescue him! Back to James, though, they’re already telling him they’re keeping him alive so he can build a second bomb. yeah. So James is huddled with some members who are keeping him away from Helena, who has gotten ahold of the bomb, when she delivers her own ultimatum: “Let him out unharmed, or I detonate it and kill us all.” This doesn’t work, but her next threat does, so they send James out and he gets safely to Helena and her friend’s van. She’s tipped off the cops to the nuclear material still at that base, but knows the gang will probably get away. They drive off into the sunset.

And now that that’s resolved, we don’t see James again... for another four issues. 

Huntress (1989) #17

Now here, we get James’ pov. We open with him about to meet with a potential adoptive family, but he's a tad jaded and bitter about them, and his lot in life, feeling unfairly trapped and imprisoned while the gang that killed his mom and brother gets off scot free. He escapes the adoption center via climbing out of a window. He sees happy families and mourns his own. Walking on, he goes to their old apartment and recovers their belongings. Then, he hatches a plot... via robbing an atm (hadn’t noticed til now lol) to get the supplies, he figures that if he can hit enough of the places the drug dealers frequent, he can bring peace to his neighborhood. 

Huntress (1989) #18

“They took everything from me. That was their first mistake. Because now I've got nothing left to lose.”

So yeah, he’s in a bad place right now. Tl;dr, a guy named Rage has managed to unite New York’s gangs in search of this bomber. Batman and Huntress are hoping to find James first, though. They see him holding a small box, and pursue him to an underground... sewer system, maybe(?) where he reveals his home. He’s got a bed, pictures taped on the walls and pipes, and jars and boxes of various foodstuffs. He shows them that his package wasn’t a bomb, but a microscope his mom had given him for Christmas. Now, batman says it’s time to bring him to justice, but Huntress is defensive of James and not too keen on this idea.

Huntress (1989) #19

Huntress and Batman have a little debate over what to do with James, who you’d imagine would be going, “guys, I’m right here?”. However, they resolve this, by having Batman pose as the bomber to give the gangs a scapegoat. James’ last bomb goes off before he can defuse it, but Batman manages to keep himself and Rage from harm. Then, we cut to our epilogue, complete with Helena looking over at James and her landlord, thinking, “I guess family is where you find it”. But yes, it ends with Helena and James packing up to move out. This is the last issue of the Huntress (1989) series. 

But wait, there’s more!

Justice League International (1987) Special #2

Helena gets this special in the spotlight, and it’s used to be a sendoff to the above series. It is set three months after the above issue, and Helena Bertrand has set them up in their own little white picket fence house. It’s a cute opening, with one of James’ inventions, a woodcutter named the tin woodsman, knocks over helena as she’s chilling in a hammock. Basically, she’s trying to give him a good childhood. It’s unclear how they define their relationship, as they seem about 6-10 years apart. I think Helena might call him her son, don’t think James would be calling her Mom or anything, though. 

Back to plot - Helena’s got to come out of retirement to take care of a loose end, so she drops James off at the Justice League for them to babysit him, which is pretty hilarious. You can see how protective he is of her here - he dumps a  chemical solution he made on Blue Beetle, who was using the cameras on the suit they gave her to eavesdrop and spy on her confrontation, and uses the distraction to mess up the controls. Then, he gets to ride with Blue Beetle in the beetle to as he goes to give Helena backup. The issue ends with Helena concluding she needs to be on her own again, incinerating the Huntress costume, and moving her and James to a new apartment. Presumably they’ll be laying low for a bit. 

And then... gone forever. That was my attempt to sum up all of James Cooper’s comic appearances. I just think he shouldn’t have been forgotten after that, what do you think?

[the-midnight-feline]

¤¸¸.•´¯`•¸¸.•..>> So this piece is actually part of the Piliin mo ang Pilipinas Collab event hosted by @lumpiang-toge, you guys should seriously check this out since the works posted there are such good reads ❤️️<<..•.¸¸•´¯`•.¸¸¤

this is the first time i've joined a collab, (ngl i thought i was waaay in over my head lol) i'd like to thank a friend of mine, Dylan, (won't tag his blog just cause, loves you for reading it !) thanks so much for the encouraging words ❤️ and of course Mama Rae (@hq-girl-next-door) for the advice on the banner**❤️

**For the banner I did, I took the image from pinterest, if you guys know who the artist is, please let me know so I could properly give credit to them :)

Tags/TW: Mutual pinning-ish, friends to lovers, fluff to angst, Cheating, swearing (I think theres one or two in there)

(A/N: Please don't get too confused /-\, the italic parts is you recollecting the past, it comes and goes (。♡‿♡。))

WC: 3.8k ;-; didn't know it get that long

Pairings: Tendou Satori x fem!Reader

Summary: It all started with a simple crush, you wouldn't have guessed that it'll be more than that, It was a dream come true to loved and be loved by the person you loved, but not all dreams end good, some end as a nightmare.

“You like the Guess Monster, like THE Guess Monster?!?!” your friends shouted in unison, looking at them frantically as you’re in the gym watching the guys warm up for a practice match and the way they shouted had the sounds of balls hitting the floor just below where your group sat, you willed yourself to look at the who were the people below you guys trying repress the blush you feel creeping on your cheeks, swallowing that lump on your throat as you peaked just a little over the ledge and saw his red hair. Internally cussing out your so-called friends, you tired to act like you calm and collected as he was looking up at the bleachers, maybe trying to guess which one in your group, who was also looking over at whoever heard them, liked him, shaking his head, chuckling toward Ushijima and Semi who was already making their way to the court to get this warm up started.

A single tear began rolling down your cheek as you remembered how it all began, your friends’ sudden outburst in the gym gave you the opportunity to talk to the guy you’ve been crushing on when you first saw him in the opening ceremony just something about him drew you to him and you were adamant on getting to, at the least, know him. Sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, opening the memory box you and your husband made a few months after you started dating.

Semi knew your friend, he actually liked her and from that outburst of theirs at the gym, he 89immediately thought of a way to hit two birds with one stone. “hey, y/f/n, I heard you guys at the bleachers, sooo” scratching he neck out of shyness “which of your friends like our Tendou? Maybe we could setup a date or something?" He really liked your friend and would honestly do anything to get her on a date, she pointed to you, the quiet in of the group, usually the source of rationality and guidance, the one that acts like the mediator of the group. You really always kept to yourself, didn’t really want to attract attention towards yourself. Semi was skeptical at first, you the quiet, shy girl of the class liked that loud ass friend of his? Maybe y/f/n was pulling his leg, she can’t be serious.

A bitter laugh escapes your lips as the memory of your first date comes crashing on you as see the pressed flower from the little hole in the wall café near the school, Semi was the one that found that café and planned every detail of the date.

As you and your friend were walking towards the café Semi told her about, you were itching to just keep hitting your friends back “why the hell did you fucking agree to this?!!” you hissed at your friend, you were practically shooting daggers at her for saying yes on your behalf and you didn’t even know what she agreed to but she told you to get dolled up, silly you, thinking that it’ll be just a girls day out, but peering over her shoulder as your guys walk out of the dorm, you see her texting Semi, thinking maybe it was him asking for notes since they were in the same class. She led you to this small café and you guys sat at a corner booth, making you sit inside by the wall, you really thought nothing of it, until you saw that distinctive red hair bounding towards your booth. Your palms got a tad sweaty, nerves getting the best of you, a million thoughts racing in your mind that you didn’t notice that the Tendou Satori was there taking the seat opposite of you in the booth, the ever infectious smile directed towards you and you alone. Seeing as you and Satori were basically having a silent conversation with just your smiles, Semi and your friend made a discreet exit and left you two be. Little did you know, he often saw you around, he knows you like shounen jump as much as he does since he sees you go to the store he usually goes to, he knows what snacks you liked since he usually goes out at the middle of the night to get some snacks of his own at the convenience store around the corner. He sees you in the library with your nose buried in some book when he follows Semi there just to annoy him. Tendou didn’t tell anybody about the girl he liked from afar, he knew he’d scare you off, no one wanted to date a Monster, or that’s what he thought.

Looking back, that impromptu date was what started the relationship with Satori, a soft sob escapes your lips as tears gently fall on the first picture you have together, he suddenly rang you up and asked you to go to the mall with him. In the picture, he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder while you were hugging his waist tightly, seemingly scared that being with him was a dream you don’t want to wake up from.

Getting out of the shower, you hear your phone ring from under your pillow, confused as to who might that be since it was an unknown number calling you, curious you answered it. “hey y/n! I know it’s kinda out of the blue but, you wanna go to the mall with me?” shock was evident in your body, it was Tendou! Your thoughts was scrambling, you know you didn’t get a chance to give him your number before you guys parted ways on your first meeting since Coach Washijo made Ushijima contact both guys for a weekend practice. You knew the coach was a hot head and would make anymore run 50 laps if they were late and that was a few weeks ago, a worried Tendou called out to you again “uh…y/n? If you have other plans I totally under-“ blinking back to the present “I’d love to go! Lemme get ready and I’ll meet you down” you cut him off midsentence hearing a small chuckle at the other line “don’t make me wait too long ok?” he said in a teasing tone which made you giggle on the line “yes, yes Satori, I’ll hang up so I could get ready ok? See you!” it took every ounce of self-control to not shriek the whole conversation, once he hung up you were practically jumping on your bed out of pure joy, but then you remembered that he’ll be waiting, you quickly snapped out of it and looked through your dresser for a decent outfit for going out with Tendou, you quickly settled with a simple get up of a long sleeved shirt and pants with some sneakers on, you excitedly exited your room, to meet up with Tendou, hoping you haven’t made him wait too long, turning the last corner you see him outside your dorm, almost wearing the same thing as you, even the color of your shoes match, biting your lip to stop a stupid smile from taking over you walk up behind him, gently poking his side, his sudden jump made you giggle as he took in all of you, a smile makes its way on his lips and eyes as he himself lets out a chuckle. “y/n? Are you copying me?” shaking your head, letting a small laugh out “Satori, please you’re the one copying me here” he just shook his out of amusement when he saw the glint of teasing in your eyes before he offended his arm to you like a gentleman would, the small action made you faint blush.

You two spent the day just walking around the mall, just browsing from store to store, having just a blast at all the random comments he makes, the last stop you guys make was the arcade, you guys played all sorts of games, air hockey, tried your luck at a pachinko machine and Tendou even tried the basketball game, which he surprisingly good at that he won a lot of tickets getting you a small rubiks cube, but near the back of the arcade something caught your eye, a purikura, Tendou saw where your eyes went and with a small smile he took your hand and walked towards the machine, and ushered you in the booth, he felt at comfortable around you, he would’ve never guessed that you were a crack head like, random outbursts of ideas and thoughts spouted from you made him laugh as you spent time together. He quickly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him, a flash went off, that was the first shot, with the blush creeping on your cheeks you hid your face under your hair and hugged him another flash went off, that was the second shot, he tipped you head up, making you look at him, his infectious smile directed at you as another flash went off, and the last shot was of him kissing your forehead. You were left speechless after that whole scenario, seemingly in a dazed as he guided you out and grab the prints of the photos. That’s how you guys ended the date, he held your hand in his all the way back to the dorms, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek as you parted ways.

Rummaging further through the memory box, you see all the mementos you both kept from your dates, a few fallen leaves, a couple of pretty rocks, stickers, napkins, flowers, pictures, the cork from the bottle of champagne you drank at your wedding. More tears fell from your eyes as you dug through all the stuff in the box, who knew you both collected a lot of things in just a couple of years. What made you sob so hard was the acceptance letters you both got when you were selected as the few students for the incoming year.

A few months before graduation, you both got accepted into a culinary school in Tokyo, you were ecstatic as this means you and Tendou could get a place together since your parents already gave you two a small amount to get a place near the school so you two could still practice and create new dishes together, it was really no surprise to your friends or the whole volleyball team that you two would get into culinary school, you’ve always had a thing for cooking, you’d often come their practices with some bento boxes for all of the guys so they don’t have to go out and spend for food, on the weekends, the kitchen was his domain he’d let you watch him bake and oftentimes let you help him out. It’s often that the whole group get together during the weekends, you cooking for them while Tendou makes that dessert. For some reason, they got jealous of how your relationship started, it was as if all the pieces just fell into place at the right time, you two together just seemed right like you two were always suppose to be with each other. There’s always been a carefree air around him, it calmed you down so much that it helped you be more open or that’s how you saw it. You were the opposite of him always worrying, always, over thinking, being overly critical of your actions and how you overwhelmed with everything so you turned to anything that’ll help you divert your mind but once he was in your life it just got easier. He voice would immediately calm the voices spewing negative thoughts I had your head.

Looking around your room, you see pictures of you together, your graduation picture, the picture of you guys on the front of the school, the picture of your guys graduating culinary school, a photo of you two at the restaurant where you two both apprenticed and next to that was the candid shot of his proposal there, a mix of joy and hurt shoot through you as you the memory come rushing back to you.

The way he sheepishly confessed that he asked the manager if he could do his proposal there and invite your family and friends for that surprise. “Hey y/n, come with me, a customer just complained about the sauce you made being too salty, I’m not taking blame for that!” an angry chef came shouting at you, shocked and anxiousness dunning through you, you timidly follow behind him, thinking how you could screw up a simple sauce like that, your thoughts were everywhere, but once you stepped outside the kitchen you noted that the dining area was dimmer then usual, but maybe that’s because you’re used to the bright lights of the kitchen, you hear a soft melody playing, it’s one of your favourite songs ‘I Choose' you’ve always related that song to your relationship. On the far wall you see photos of you together, looking around you see familiar faces, his and your parents, your friends, the Shiratorizawa boys were there even the coach came!

The euphoria you felt from having everyone who had been part of your relationship through the ups and downs just had you in tears, your head was fuzzy with the mix of a dozen emotions swirling in you, through a blur of tears you see him kneeling in front of you, he let out a huff of breath to calm his nerves before asking you the question “y/n, my love, my baby, my better half, my paradise. You’ve stuck by my side through my highs and lows, loved me unconditionally, took care of me whenever I got sick, urged me to follow my dreams, guided me into being a better guy, especially with my chocolate making you supported my dreams like no other can, you, you made my world complete, you made me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, you gave me your heart to cherish and protect. You made my life whole” the words flowed out of his mouth so freely, every word making more tears come out of you, every word so heartfelt, with shakey hands we presented you a pear cut yellow emerald ring “My Paradise, would you do me the honor of being my paradise for eternity?” no words could express how happy you were nodding your head, trying to stop happy tears from falling a hushed ‘yes’ slips past you lips as he stands to slip the ring on your left hand, pulling you in for a tight hug, whispering endless I love you’s and thank you in your ears as the people around you cheered for the newly engaged couple.

Biting back another sob, you feel fresh tears streaming down your cheeks as your eyes land on your wedding photo above the bed, he loved you enough to marry you, he was yours and you were his, you can’t help but stare at the framed photo, he had that infectious smile of his that made you fall from him the day you saw him. He has you up in his arms as your arms were wrapped around his neck, pecking a sweet kiss on his cheek. You asked him many times if he’d like to blowup another photo from your wedding, he simply shook his head and wrapped you up in his arms “you’re perfect in any picture of us, but in that one you look like the most perfect human being in existence and I’m just lucky to have you in my life” you basked in his love and affection on those simple words pulling him closer and burying you face on his chest, inhaling his sweet scent “I’m lucky to have you Tori, lucky to be called your wife” placing a chaste kiss on his chest as you look up to him with love-struck eyes. This was it you guys moved countries after your wedding to France since Tendou was offered a job at a famous pâtisserie there, all you wanted was your husband happy, wherever you guys may be.

You never really cared where you two were, as long as you were together, you could get lessons on the French cuisine as Tendou works, that was the plan before you guys flew out. You worked hard to learn the basics, you’d often have Tendou taste test all your creations and you’ll you the same for him since he likes to experiment with different flavor combinations, things were great the first few months of moving cross countries, you enrolled in a cooking classes there to build up your repertoire and after a few weeks of learning a few new techniques you've decided to look around for places you could work at just to keep your body busy again. You've decorated the apartment the way you liked it and how you think Tendou would like it, just adding different odds and ends giving it a familiar vibe. This place was your starting ground.

When you got a job at the nearby bistro, Tendou didn’t really mind it, since he’d often come home a bit later then usual saying something along the lines of making things in the experiment lab with the other chocolatiers at the shop to have something new for the upcoming season, in turn you thought nothing of it since you do work nights after getting a gig in a restaurant in town as well, it also means you could still have time to make his dinner and keep it warm for when he gets home. You two actually got into an argument when you got that gig since Tendou was adamant about keeping you in the apartment after the morning shift at the bistro so you don’t work yourself too hard, he wanted to start thinking about getting a kitten to keep you company when he’s out working but you argued back that you didn’t wanna feel like mooching off of him even though he said it was fine, he loved coming home to a warm meal that you made with love and gets more time to spend with you, but he did cave in after a few bats of your eyelashes.

It was perfect, you both were doing what you were passionate about, you two scheduled your offs near each other’s so one could take care of each other after a long day. But there was this weird feeling creeping in you but you simply don’t know why it was there, you and Tendou always kept communication open since you two do work different shifts and that itself puts a strain in the relationship but you two made it work. You loved him. So you would really sacrifice anything for him, he had have a rough childhood, he was bullied cause he looked different, acted different, but he wasn’t like that for you, he never was, even though he had a wicked sense for things which really surprised you, you can’t even hide a gift from him cause he knew what you’d get him or more likely sense what you’ll give him.

You don’t tell him that you swapped shifts with someone so you technically have a day off so you decided to drop by the pâtisserie where Tendou worked with some home made Pan Bagnat since it was nearing lunch, as you were close to the shop you saw his figure near the window placing new confections on display, but something made you stop, another person, a female chocolatier, was hugging him from behind and not in a friendly way, there was familiarity to it, it looked as if she’s been hugging him for so long, like she’s always hugged him, you didn’t notice that you’ve dropped the basket you were holding on the sidewalk, the glass bottle shattering on impact, the sangria spilling on the pavement, the sandwich you made, making a mess, the fruits you packed rolling in every direction. People around gasped at the scene, some tried to help in picking up the fruits that escaped, your mind in thought again, maybe you just interpreted it wrongly they’re just so so close, like a brother and sister kinda way, since they both work in the shop, you simply jumped to conclusions too fast, those thought completely vanished as the next sight you saw.

She kissed him. SHE KISSED HIM!! Your mind played that in your head like it was a song played on a loop. That was what made your heart break, that was the tipping point, he didn’t push her away, it was the opposite, he pulled her closer, the way he held her mirrored how he would hold you when he came home from work, people around you were asking you things trying to snap you out of your trance but you paid no mind to them, your legs moving on their own.

It was as if you were on autopilot, you got home, your mind racing with so many thoughts, how long had that been going on? Is she why he’d come home later than usual, is she the reason he had woken up earlier to get to work everyday? Did he spend his days off with her when you suddenly get shifts? Walking into your apartment, you didn’t know what to think, how to feel, how to make sense of things more questions come into your mind. Does he bring her here? Did they do anything sexual in the place you called home? What places were safe? Did she please him better than I did? You walked into your bedroom where the memory box laid in the middle of bed. It was your first wedding anniversary, did he really forget? Your anniversary was engraved on your wedding rings with your initials on it.

A scream of agony escaped your lips as everywhere you looked at it was all you and him the very place you thought was the safest of all was not. It's tainted with infidelity, your heart broke even more as you took the box from the bed with shaking hands contemplating on whether to open the box or not, he loved you with every part of him didn’t he? You were enough weren’t you? You made sure he was satisfied right? You gave him all the love you could and even more right? Didn’t he promise you that he’d protect your heart? You're still his paradise right? He loves you right?

Maybe opening the box, and finding something that you both placed in there would make him rethink his choices right? With broken sobs and uneven breathing, your fingers shaking as you pulled the pretty red ribbon that held the lid shut, looking at all the things that you both collected that reminded you both that you loved each other you broke even more. Every one of them held the promise of love, of fidelity, of trust. But now, a part of you is doubting every word that passed his lips, every kiss that landed on your skin made you feel dirty, every I love you's he uttered seems like a lie. You didn’t want to feel that way, you love him with every part of your being, you’re THE Mrs. Satori Tendou, no one else but you had that title, just you, it was only you right? You were his paradise for eternity right? Right?

★──────────★───────────────★─────────★

I hope you guys liked this, I actually really liked working on this one(played my brokenhearts plays it nonstop for it) , but I do have another one coming so...yeah!

Song inspiration :Anong Nangyari Sa Ating Dalawa by Aiza Seguerra

Song used in the proposal I Choose by Alessia Cara

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Madness

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Blaeja

Summary: “I was wondering if I could request an imagine where the reader is a princess and Ivar travels to England with his brothers & thinks the princess is beautiful but he gets teased by Sigurd and his brothers but she can understand their language and decides to flirt with him in front of everyone?”

So I made her Kwenthrith’s daughter because why the fuck not, and Blaeja (Aelle’s daughter) is on this cause again, why the fuck not. Also the Reader might be a tad insane, but at this rate all my Reader characters are idk what to tell u

Word Count: 4.7k (I’m sorry lol)

Warnings: Mentions of rape and child abuse, mentions and allusions to violence and death, my horrible writing

A/N: Idk how I feel about this, I hope I don’t dissapoint the anon that requested it lol. Hope you enjoy, thank you for reading, and ily! <3

Also, I kinda went a lil overboard :/

The handmaid is fixing the coronet over your head when you hear the doors to your rooms open, so she turns to demand propriety from whoever entered unannounced, but seeing Aelle’s daughter with a devilish smile on her lips stops her on her tracks.

“Your Grace.” The woman bows gracefully, and steps back, letting Blaeja take her place.

“Are you ready?” The girl whispers to you, adept hand working at the tresses of your hair to make sure it is carefully hidden under your veil that showcases the delicate circlet on your head.

“You are the one that will be sent off to be married, my friend,” You remind her, chuckling, “To one of those…”

“Lord Sigurd is not that bad,” She interrupts, what for a second sounds like girlish infatuation on her tone. You are opening your mouth to quip on how she refers to one of those brutes as a ‘Lord’ but she clears her throat, and continues, “He played some music for me, the other day.”

“You have nothing to fear then,” You mock with a roll of your eyes, “Maybe he also played music for your father before they executed him, made all of it a much more lovely affair.”

Blaeja tugs at your hair in warning, and you steal a glance at the handmaid that looks carefully at the floor. As if she needed eyes to hear you, as if you didn’t know how she’ll gossip about this with the others.

“Careful, or I’ll ask that you come with me,” She laughs, “I’ll have you sold for two gold coins.”

“You are talking to the heiress to a broken and war-torn kingdom, Lady Blaeja, you better remember that!” You tell her in jest, and she laughs, with that laugh you two share, that laugh born out of despair and loss and uncertainty.

“How could I? Judith never lets me forget what a might Mercia continues to be.” She replies with no little disdain in her tone. After a breath of hesitation, she orders with curt words for the servants to leave you two alone, and once the doors close, the Princess of Northumbria kneels in front of you where you sit, grabbing your hands tightly on her own.

“You are scaring me.”

“There’s no reason to fear,” She tells you even as tears fill her eyes. With a tremulous smile, she whispers, “I heard my sister talking with her husband, about you.”

“Me?”

“Alfred would benefit greatly from having a Mercian Princess as wife,” She states, and though she smiles you feel only cold settling over your heart, dread. “With your mother dead…”

“Dead when King Ecbert, blessed be his memory, took control over Mercia, Blaeja! They already own my kingdom.” You remind her lowly, leaning down so your faces are closer to each other, but this doesn’t dim her smile.

Your heart aches at the reminder of your mother, for her, in all her sins and her scars, was the only family you ever had. The only protection you had, in that palace filled with monsters.

If you think about it, if you sit surrounded by all your sins and your mistakes and your faults and think about it, you know it was the sight of her shaking hands as she looked at them expecting to see blood and told you of the death of her brother that made you stop having faith in your God.

It wasn’t the death of a would-be king at the hands of his sister what made you realize the bishops and priests and deacons and saints were all full of lies, no. It was the emptiness in her gaze as she spoke of walking out of that room a Queen and realizing it wasn’t enough to make up for the pain he -the last remaining alive in the long line of monsters that made up your family- caused her.

It was the hoarse voice of the proud and ruthless Queen of Mercia telling you of the barbarity that took place right under her father’s willfully ignorant gaze, it was the shaking hands that clasped your own and begged for forgiveness that she didn’t need to ask for, it was the severed heads brought in by the Vikings that weren’t enough to heal her, it was the realization God, if he was ever there, looked away most of her life.

You shake those thoughts off, and focus on the Princess before you that smiles in a mix of joy for your fate and bitterness for hers.

With shaky breaths, you insist, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“They would have Mercian blood on their lineage, it would strengthen their claim.” She states, and the disgust it fills you with makes you feel shame. You should be ecstatic at the chance of becoming Queen, at the prospect giving Wessex strong sons to prepare for ruling and beautiful daughters to…to exchange like broodmares, like Blaeja, given to a Viking of all men, breakable daughters to fail to protect, like Kwenthrith, raped by her own brother and uncle.

You remember your mother’s pain. You remember her whispers about the court being filled with snakes, you remember her stories about the women with swords and loud voices.

And you remember King Ecbert’s lessons. You remember his tales about the land where his Ragnar Lothbrok came from, you remember his bitterness at the strange land that captured the heart of a man of God such as Athelstan.

You meet her brown eyes, and force a smile on your lips, because may the earth part underneath your feet and drag you down, you will not wed Alfred.

____

They introduce you to the sons of Ragnar, and you will admit, Blaeja looks positively smitten by the easy smile the blond man gives her in greeting. Lovely.

Judith makes a point of having you be sitting next to Alfred who, blessed be his soul, attempts to strike conversation with you only to be stopped by his own shyness.

You still offer him a few courteous smiles, and thank his kindness when he offers it so. When the Vikings talk amongst each other, mostly about the strange food and customs, you notice the King looks at you to gauge your expression, as if he knows you also know their tongue.

You worry about how much King Ecbert shared with him for a moment, but say nothing.

“So, the one that walked in with your bride,” One of the sons of Ragnar starts, and though you decide to pay attention you keep your gaze on your food and the entertainment going on around you, offering one of the performers a small smile. “Who is she?”

“Princess of Mercia, I think. The crazy queen father fought for with Uncle Rollo and the others, that’s her daughter.” A man with hair that you thought first was short but realized later falls down his back in a thick braid, his blond beard unkept, but his eyes those of an experienced man as they look over the room.

“Let’s hope beauty is not all she shares with that crazy bitch, huh? I would love to fuck a Saxon princess again.” Mocks a man you weren’t introduced to, so not a son of Ragnar, with ink on his face and long dark hair.

You realize too late you have lifted your gaze and set your eyes on him, what is sure to be affront and embarrassment showing on your face.

You lower your eyes again to the table before you, clenching your hands into fists on your lap, but you feel like someone is looking at you, and from the other end of the table, when you peek carefully, you catch the eyes of the one they introduced but whose name you can’t remember, the one with short dark hair, the one whose legs seem to be broken.

He looks at you with a silver of surprise, but there’s something else there. Regardless, you know he knows, and it makes fear settle on your stomach like acid. You wonder if this is what Burgred felt when he was poisoned.

“You’ve been staring at her all night, Ivar,” Blaeja’s betrothed starts, voice sickly mocking. “Are you hoping she’ll look back? Take your cripple ass to her bed?”

“Sigurd…” One of the elder brothers grumbles, clearly tired of it all.

“I’m just saying, he’d have more luck forcing a thrall to touch him than hoping a free woman will.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you, brother? Fucking your slave so she can’t even say no.”

“Who out of the two of us will bed a princess, hmm? It surely isn’t the cripple that can’t even please a slave right, is it?”

You and Alfred exchange a look, no longer pretending either of you don’t understand, as the youngest, Ivar, snarls some threat at his brother, voice and temper rising alike.

Refusing to be spoken of like some sort of cunt with a crown, you speak up, though your gaze remains on your plate.

“Princess Blaeja asks you to play that awful lute to keep your paws off her, so I fear that arrogance is unfounded, my Prince.”

Alfred chokes on his drink as he tries covering a startled laugh with a cough, and you feel wide eyes from the end of the table where the Vikings seat settle on you.

“What did you say?” One of the men asks slowly, and with the madness your mother left you with, you lift your gaze and meet the eyes of the man you recognize as Bjorn Ironside.

“My mother wasn’t crazy,” Is all you reply with gritted teeth, before turning to the blonde that Blaeja is to marry. You don’t know what it is that makes you open your mouth again, but you do, “And I was indeed looking at your brother. I feel for you deeply, my Prince, if you can’t recognize want in a woman’s gaze.”

Alfred clears his throat, what you could swear is a smile -the youthful smile of a boy witnessing chaos- shyly settling on his lips, and stands up to propose a toast and dissipate the atmosphere.

“With this being one of the last nights our dear Blaeja, daughter of the late King Aelle, blessed be his soul, spends with us, I-…”

You don’t listen anymore, taking a sip from your wine and catching over the rim of your goblet the eyes of the youngest son of Ragnar -Ivar, you remind yourself- on you, studying you with a mix of mistrust and curiosity.

You keep your gaze on his, and as you lower your cup from your lips, you offer a smile. His own lips tremble in what was sure to be an instinctual reply with a smile of his own, before he schools his features.

Regardless, he takes his eyes off yours and in his whole posture embarrassment is written. Managing to fluster a Viking of all men fills you with a thrill, a heat, like no other.

The men toast and you gesture your goodbyes as the dinner is dispersed. Before you can make it out the door, Blaeja stops you with a hand on your arm.

“What did y-…do you speak their tongue?”

“I do. King Ecbert taught me a lot before he died,” You state, before frowning in confusion and thoughtfulness, “Before he died at the hands of these men…Blaeja, my friend, don’t you ever stop and think about how strange it all has become?”

Blaeja only narrows her eyes with a growing exasperated smile on her lips.

“I care about what you said to my future husband.”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” You pat her cheek in friendly jest, making her roll her eyes. After a moment of consideration, you tell her, “Though he may not play his lute as often anymore, I fear.”

____

You wait impatiently by the window to your room, wondering over and over if this is the wrong choice, if you are making the worst mistake possible, if you are walking into the wolf’s den.

Before you can think yourself out of this, Blaeja, with her head covered by a dark cloak, makes her way into your room.

“I didn’t think your betrothed would agree.” Is all you state, dryly, as she motions for you to get your own cloak.

“Oh, I can assure you Prince Sigurd despises you, but luckily, he seems to adore me. Go, and don’t make me regret this.”

With a light laugh you kiss her cheek and dart out of the room, ready to follow the familiar path to where you asked Prince Sigurd to arrange a meeting between his brother and you.

“So it is you.” He says, dragging himself up a couch in front of yours. You clasp your hands together to keep them from trembling, and try to remember all the logic, all the strategy, you’ve put behind this stupid plan of yours.

“I told them to let you know.” You reply curtly, but the Prince shrugs.

“Sigurd could be mocking me. Make the cripple think he is meeting with the Princess?” He shrugs, but it is not nonchalant in the slightest. In all of his fame and vitriol, you notice, now only remains a man uncertain, unmoored, braced for rejection or mocking like you’ve scarcely seen before. The knowledge that you, or the combination of you and his older brother, seem to be a vulnerable point for him is a knowledge you don’t truly know what to do with. You say nothing in response, and with a movement of his head, after settling in his seat, he insists, “Why did you want to meet with me?”

“You norsemen have a reputation,” You start carefully, plucking at a lose string on the sleeve of your dress. “And the crown needs the allegiance Blaeja’s marriage with your brother gives them, so no mat-…”

“I don’t like your roundabout ways,” He states brusquely, and it stops you on your tracks, your eyes wide and lips parted as you stare at the Prince. He gestures with one hand, a frown starting to mar his face, “Just say what you want, Princess.”

“I want you to take me with you back to wherever it is you come from. I want them to believe I’ve been stolen.”

The Prince looks at you like you have grown a second head, and to be quite frank, once the words have left your lips you realize you might as well have. This is foolish, and dangerous, and...crazy.

That’s what they called your mother, not only these norsemen but all of them. Because she admitted what many didn’t dare to: that if she had been born with a cock they all would have bowed and given her the crown she deserved, that the earth would have been easier to walk on.

You refuse to think madness is a bad trait.

You don’t have to ponder whether the Viking will see it as such, for you notice you have piqued his interest, you notice the curiosity at the madness in your request.

“Are you sure you aren’t the mad Mercian princess?”

You offer a humorless laugh at his taunt, and retort, “I don’t want to be here anymore. And…I can prove useful to you.”

“If you say a wife…”

You don’t let him finish, leaning closer and whispering,

“They want me to marry Alfred.”

“And you don’t want to.”

“His grandfather took Mercia from me, I will not be used as a broodmare so they can hold on tighter to my kingdom.”

The Viking starts to smile, wild and yet calculating, the ruthless and intelligent man his fame says he is.

“But you don’t want revenge.”

“They can fight for the scraps of what once was a mighty kingdom for the rest of time for all I care,” You offer honestly, “I do not want to be caught up in between. I will have to give him children if I marry him, and I refuse to let a child of mine suffer like my mother did, like Blaeja did.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, and his tone grows cruel, mocking, like the cat that plays with the poor mouse before eating it, when he insists, “I could make you a slave, sell you. If you annoy me, I could torture you. If you betray me, I would kill you.”

“I told you I was of use to you, though,” You insist past the fear that makes your hands tremble, “I will not be of use in pieces. You and Alfred played chess before, haven’t you?”

He loosens his posture, his expression is no longer so guarded and venomous as he asks, “And what is this use?”

“I’m a pawn they want to make Queen,” You state, and the Viking starts to smile. You knew he was smart; you knew he was aware of how he could take advantage of ‘taking’ you as a prisoner for his own gain. You have a feeling he wanted to know if you were aware of how your position could be played. Like chess, you ponder. “Surely you could ask for a lot in exchange for my safe return home.”

He considers your words in silence for a few moments, eyes travelling between yours as if trying to read your response to the words he has not yet uttered.

“And if I don’t want to return you to your home?”

You shrug, “Then they’ll have a rallying call for their war against your people, and I will be free from these…these nobles and their fucking priests.”

The Viking breathes a laugh, surprised and a little enthralled it seems, but you find yourself smiling back.

You keep careful eyes on the moon that travels the skies, watchful over the time that you will have to return to your rooms before anyone notices your absence. But in the meantime, you enjoy with easy smiles and a light heart the company of the Viking, surprisingly enough.

____

And the few extra days Blaeja can buy you do almost nothing for the plans of your escape -a part of you is certain the Viking has a plan he won’t share with you- but it does let you get to know the man you are asking to kidnap you. A giant brute like the others, that’s for certain, but he is smart, and cunning, and his dry humor never fails to make you laugh.

You find yourself intrigued, captivated, much more so than you could have thought when you made the choice to speak out against his brother during that first dinner. It is no secret to you he is no longer a pawn in the game you decided to play, but you cannot help but think you still are merely a pawn to him.

One of the nights you meet under the guard of the moon, he starts, “I cannot take you from this city, not without an army.”

“I know.”

His eyebrows raise, “And you have thought of a way around that.”

“Haven’t you?” You reply with a small smile, knowing he has.

“If you could go closer to York…”

“Or you closer to Tamworth.”

“We’d have no way to leave by sea. I can’t exactly walk through the wilderness with you, Princess, as you can see.”

You roll your eyes with a smile on your lips, but eventually acquiesce with a nod.

You sigh, “Then I don’t know, Ivar.”

You notice it is the first time you have said his name instead of his title, and you raise startled and apologetic eyes to him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though you notice his gaze lingering on you for a few moments longer than it should.

It gives your still young and innocent heart a shock of hope that you feel all the way to the tips of your fingers.

“One way or another, I will steal you, Princess,” He insistes, and you only lift an eyebrow in response. He crosses his arms, “I promise.”

____

“They leave tonight.” Blaeja starts from her place sitting at your side on the garden bench. You turn to her.

“You leave tonight,” You remind her, “Aren’t you forgetting your lovely husband to be?”

But she shakes her head, “Prince Sigurd and I will marry if he returns,” Her voice wavers, and you realize with a mix of dread and joy she has learned to care for the Viking. She straightens her back and continues, “When he returns from the battle they depart today to prepare for.”

“Against Alfred?”

“Against the woman that murdered their mother. He says they are to take back their Kingdom from her.”

“Your Prince trusts you with all of these things.”

“His brother tells you things too.” She states without hesitation, and you look at her but stay silent, not denying Ivar has told you of Queen Aslaug and her murder already. Many things actually, just as you have told him many things too.

“So it will be a while before you see him again, if ever.” You muse, not only talking about her. It would be foolish to feel pain, loss, fear; you tell yourself. It doesn’t stop the prick of tears on your eyes, or the pit of pain on your chest.

“I will depart to Bamburgh in three days to await word of the outcome of the battle.”

You lay your head on her shoulder, releasing a shaky breath, “I’ll miss you.”

_____

Judith hounds you like a dog and it is starting to get on your nerves. You feel you are being judged and considered carefully for the role of Alfred’s wife, a role you do not want to be in and, if you were to ask him, you don’t think he’d want you in either.

The talks start of having a royal wedding soon after Blaeja weds the Viking Prince, who seems to have survived the battle for Kattegat. You tried asking around, bribing a servant or two, to figure out the fate of Prince Ivar, but you are too close to bearing the crown for them to feel comfortable trading secrets with you, it seems.

You catch sight of Alfred’s eyes on you during a dinner one night, and he offers what you swear is a soothing smile even if his warm eyes shine with regret.

Judith grabs onto her son’s arm and a tired-looking Aethelwulf stands up from his throne, calling for the attention of the clergy and nobles alike.

They announce you as Alfred’s betrothed after a few words you don’t bother with listening to.

As a gift for his bride to be, Alfred arranges for a few soldiers to escort you to Bamburgh, apparently at the request of Princess Blaeja that you accompany her on her wedding day. And barely with time to pack, almost three months after you last saw her, you are in a carriage on your way to the North.

____

She looks radiant, that’s the first thing you notice when you see her awaiting for you by the gates to the royal home. Bright smile and even brighter eyes, rosy cheeks and excitement and joy written all over her posture.

It gladdens you, to know she will be wed to a man she can care for, a man that can care for her. That maybe, just maybe, like in those tales your mother used to mock, there’s love to be felt before the Lord is to bind them together.

And once the ships arrive you will not lie and pretend you don’t feel disappointment, maybe grief, at the absence of the vitriolic yet captivating prince you met what seems so long ago.

You heard them talking about a son of Ragnar becoming King of Kattegat, and you have no doubts as to who bears the crown now. In another world, you may have left, he may have earned a kingdom in what used to be Mercia or Northumbria in exchange for the safe return to Wessex you’d never make.

But you will not let it stop you from finding a way out of this arrangement, of this…this marriage.

The possibility of asking Blaeja to claim you as a permanent resident of her land is there, of course, but you don’t think she has enough leverage against the crown itself to be able to keep you more than a few months. You could simply run away, but you are not stupid, you know you’d die or be found before you can spend a moon in the wilderness.

Still, you are a smart woman, you tell yourself, you will find a way out.

While the dinner -feast, they call it- in celebration for the wedding takes place, a man you recognize as one of the eldest sons of Ragnar approaches you while you sit alone.

You cannot help the pang of fear that runs through you at the sight of one of those giants looming over you, but you still offer what you hope is a courteous smile.

“You have to come with me.” He tells you, and you frown.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Follow me.”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, turning his back to you and slithering effortlessly between the dancing and feasting guests. After a moment of consideration, with a small smile on your face as if it were a thrillingly dangerous game of hide and seek, you chase after the Viking.

He leads you all the way down to the docks, and since the moon is high up in the skies, the streets are almost deserted and you are left forced to guide yourself in the darkness or thanks to the rare and dim light of a faraway lantern.

You still push on, your heart beating on your ears and fear and thrill bubbling under your skin.

“This is where I leave you, Princess,” The son of Ragnar says, stopping abruptly and turning to you. You frown, but he doesn’t step closer so you have nothing to fear. “We will see each other again.”

The man with the blondish and long hair gestures a mock of a formal goodbye, and walks confidently back to the royal home where the party -feast- is still taking place.

You are left dumbfounded and alone in the darkness, and instinct makes you want to chase after him and demand answers.

“Following a strange Viking into the darkness,” A familiar voice starts from behind you, stopping you on your tracks, “No wonder people say you are as crazy as your mother, Princess.”

You turn around with a frown and raised chin, ready to retort, “My mother was not c-…”

But you realize halfway as the words leave your lips whose voice it is, to whom the familiar pale blue eyes belong to.

Ivar stands now, and his hair seems longer and braided in some strange style, even his armor looks different. It seems like years have passed even though it has scarcely been half a year yet.

“You’re alive.” You whisper, and the Viking frowns, affronted.

“Of course I am,” He replies arrogantly, and you cannot keep the smile from your lips. He extends a hand, “And I’ve come to…steal you, was it?”

You don’t answer, even if a part of you is thrilled at him remember that first conversation. You only look at him with wide eyes.

“You’re a king now.”

“Hmm, and I was offered a queen, was I not?”

It startles you back to reality, back to your senses, and you notice the three ships with dim lanterns and silent warriors docked at the sides of the dragon-headed ship Ivar -King Ivar now, you suppose- stands in.

“That’s…not what I meant.” You say, but still your hand grasps at the skirts of your dress to lift it up, and you walk closer.

“Have you decided to stay with them?” And the sudden steel underneath his words, a promise of what you could be at the other end of if he is to believe you’ve fooled him, or gone back on your word, makes a thrill of fear go down your back.

“No, but…”

“Usually stealing a bride doesn’t involve this much talking, Princess.” He interrupts, and extends a hand, and you look at it with wide eyes.

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“I-…” You look into his eyes, pale blue eyes that you saw more than once when you closed your own in these past months, and a breathy laugh leaves your lips, “This is madness.”

Ivar says nothing, but his hand is still stretched between you. You take it, and jump into the ship.

___

So, that was it :/ I have a feeling it’s pretty boring but I’ll hope that’s cause I wrote it lol

Thank you for reading! I would love to know what you think, and if you wanna rquest anything go right ahead, I promise to try my best lol

Thank you, I hoped you enjoyed <3

[imagine-that]

Torn

Warnings: mentions of injury/abuse (Umbridge)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

AN: sorry I’ve been missing for a while!! First few weeks at a job, it gets kinda hectic lol. But I’ll try to write more as often as I can!!!

You walk nervously down the hall towards the office of the woman you loathed so much. Much to your dismay, you had to spend the evening in her vomit inducing office, writing lines.

Of course you weren’t stupid. You’d heard all about what writing lines actually entailed with the wench. You just never thought you’d be one of the students being forced to do them.

Though they didn’t particularly like your relationship, the Weasley twins had found out about your upcoming detention and they’d apparated to your side, scaring you half to death while they were at it.

“You two are relentless. She’ll catch you doing that someday you know!” You scold, giving them a stern and concerned look.

“And what? Make us write more lines? It barely hurts anymore for us.” They argue.

You suck in a breath at the mention of pain.

“You’ll be fine y/n. It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as people say it does. And when it’s done, the pain mulls over quickly.” One of them assures you. You nod absentmindedly, knowing you’ve probably gone completely pale in the face.

You’d never thought you would have to do this horrid punishment. Sure you misbehaved sometimes and used magic when you knew Umbridge would yell but that wasn’t even the reason you were there to begin with.

The night before, filch had found you and your boyfriend Draco sneaking off, snogging each other. Of course being the kissup he was, Filch ran directly to Umbridge, shouting “students out of bed.” On repeat as he went. She came with that sickly sweet smile and, basically completely ignoring Draco’s presence, she’d given you detention for tonight.

“This form of punishment is completely barbaric. I’ve heard several professors say so as well.” You mutter, a frown etched on your face.

“We know.” The twins chorused.

You laugh faintly, their talking in unison all the time cheering you up a bit. Finally you hear the disgustingly familiar ahem and turn to her office door to see her gesturing you in.

The twins squeeze your hands and tell you it’ll be ok as you get to your feet, slowly making your way into her office.

“Sit.” She orders as she walks around her desk.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and take a seat, biting your tongue to keep back any nasty comments you have.

“You will be writing lines for me today.” She hums, the smile you’d like to slap off of her perfectly in place.

“And what will I be writing today professor?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“I would like you to write I will act like a lady. Just enough times for it to sink in.” She instructs, giggling to herself.

You scoff, looking to her with anger and frustration. “Professor, that seems a tad bit sexist, does it not?” You ask.

“I did not give you permission to speak miss y/l/n. Now please do your punishment. It’s good for you to learn.” She says.

You sigh, picking up her stupid special quill and beginning to write, wincing as the words etch into your hand. At first it isn’t so bad, only breaking through the surface. But as you continue to write over the course of the next hour, you resist the urge to cry out in pain.

Every nerve in your hand is begging you to stop, the burning irritation making tears start in your eyes but you quickly hold them in, refusing to let this foul woman see that she’s gotten to you.

Finally, she tells you to stop, letting you put down the quill as your hand throbs, the surface of the scar a vibrant red.

“That should be enough for today. I do hope I don’t have to see you in here again miss y/l/n.” She warns.

“Yes Professor, lets hope.” You mutter, walking through the door and giving a sad smile to one of the nervous looking third years sitting outside her office and waiting to be summoned.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s over before you know it.” You promise him in a whisper, walking away before Umbridge has the chance to try and discipline you again.

You see Draco leaning against a wall, watching you but you ignore him, quickly brushing past and walking in the direction of your common room.

“Y/n!” He calls after you, running to catch up with you.

You continue to ignore him, getting onto one of the staircases as it starts moving.

“Darling what’s wrong?” He calls, finally catching up to you as he runs up the staircase.

You scoff at him, tears in your eyes. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong you ask!? Of course, you wouldn’t know. Why don’t you just go back to the inquisitorial squad, I’m sure they need you to help catch people breaking the rules.” You say through your tears, staying facing away from him.

“Y/n, what’re you so upset about?” He asks, reaching out to hold your hand. You yank it away, instead holding it up for him to see the scarring.

“Blimey, what is that?” He asks, grabbing your hand to examine it.

“That is what you and your bloody gang are sentencing people to.” You growl.

“Y/n- I had no idea.” He says softly. “But those people are breaking school rules! They must be punished.” He adds.

You stare at him with wide, hurt eyes. “Do you even hear yourself anymore?! The Draco I know and love would never put anyone through this.” You say, your bottom lip trembling at this point.

When he doesn’t speak, you decide you should. “Was I breaking some kind of rule for kissing my bloody boyfriend? Did I deserve for this to happen then?” You ask, looking over at him pleadingly.

“No, of course not love. You could never deserve anything like this!” He exclaims, holding your hand carefully in his.

“Then neither does everyone else.” You sigh, tugging your hand away and walking up the stairs, going to your common room and straight to bed.

——————————————————————

The next morning, you wake up with a sigh, glaring down at the words on your hand until you will yourself to get up.

Your roommates had already gone down for breakfast but you, having had a lousy evening the day before, had opted to stay in bed for a little longer and eat quickly.

You’d felt torn and distressed all evening. You loved draco with all your heart but the idea of him condoning such actions as those of professor Umbridge felt like a betrayal to you. You didn’t know what you could do, thus the stress resulted in a rather fitful sleep

Once you got dressed, you finally made your way to the dining room and ate a rather small meal, your appetite having disappeared.

“Y/n, wait up!” One of the Weasley twins shouts, trailing after you down the hall.

“Hey George, what do you need?” You ask, recognizing him as he approaches.

“I was meaning to give this to you. It’ll help with the scarring.” He explains, putting a small purple container in your hand.

“Wow, thanks. Where’d you get it?” You ask, worrying about if you ever had to do the lines again.

“Fred and I came up with it. Mostly me of course, I am the brains of the operation.” He says and a smug smile, making you laugh.

“Of course. Well it’s brilliant, thank you.” You reply with a smile of your own. He nods, quickly walking back to his brother to cause more mischief no doubt.

“So, I piss you off once and now you’re off snogging Weaselbee?” A voice says from behind, startling you enough to turn around.

“Draco, I was not snogging him, don’t be so daft and jealous.” You groan, giving him a knowing look.

“Sure looked like it to me.” He mutters with a shrug.

You sigh, looking back over at him. “It’s you I love you ninny. Even if you’re being a complete arse.” You promise, a frown still on your face.

He avoids your gaze, looking guilty. “I’m sorry about what I said last night. I didn’t mean it, honestly!” He apologizes, looking at you sadly.

“Draco, I can’t be with someone who would defend something like that.” You start, your heart aching at the idea of breaking up with him.

“I know you can’t.” He interrupts. You look over at him in shock, thinking this was what he wanted.

“That’s why I marched into Umbridge’s office this morning and quit the inquisitorial squad.” He adds, making you somewhat surprised. You never thought he’d quit something that his father put him up to like that. It was intriguing.

“Sure you did.” You mutter sarcastically, not fully believing him.

“I did. Do you see the badge anywhere here?” He asks, spinning in a slow circle to show you. Sure enough, the badge is no where to be found on him.

You blink, unsure what to say.

“Y/n?” He says a moment later, a gentle hand on your arm and his face etched with concern.

“I’m just- what about your parents?” You ask worriedly. He gives you a soft smile, pulling you into his chest.

“I will deal with their wrath, don’t fret baby.” He says, placing a kiss on your head.

“I promise I’ll be there with you every second of the conversation-.” You start promising, but his bitter chuckling stops you.

“You shouldn’t be there for that y/n. Merlin only knows what would happen.” He sighs.

“Which is exactly why I should be there Draco.” You groan, pouting your lips up at him. He shakes his head, sighing a bit more.

“Who cares what they think anyway? It’s our choice not theirs.” He complains and you nod firmly in agreement.

You wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing him for dear life.

“You’re too good to me.” You murmur into his chest.

He takes a second to hug back, his shock at the sudden show of affection evident in the way his body tenses up.

As he relaxes into your touch, a faint smile comes to his lips. “And you’re too good for me darling.” He whispers, his face one of sadness and regret.

The two of you stand like that, in each other’s embrace, for what feels like an eternity, caring far too much for each other to ever truly let go.

[galvanizedfriend]

The Wolf Outtake

This is a little outtake, if you will, of The Wolf universe. It actually fits within the post-TW2 headcanons I've been writing to keep myself happy, so somewhere in S3. It's something that would never fit within the actual story because it's pure domestic fluff. lol I wrote this for @recyclingss, baby Eve's number one fan who yells at me when the child doesn't make an appearance and who’s also the biggest cheerleader this story’s ever had. 💖

This is set much later in the future, and you will notice baby Eve is actually more of toddler Eve here, but I've removed any specific context to make it so this would fit into any point of The Wolf post S2E14, I guess.

Summary: Just random KC+baby moment in The Wolf. It's fluffy, domestic, features the child and Klaus' bitter feelings for Bayou wolves. Nobody asked for it, but I figured, after the WEEK we've all had, maybe people could use some fluff? Hope you guys enjoy it! :)

______________________

Klaus doesn't even realize it's morning already until Caroline stirs next to him, making a lazy hum deep in her throat that pulls him out of his idle reverie. He blinks his surroundings back into focus; the fluorescence that had been filtering in through the windows last time he checked has now been replaced by warm sunlight. He didn’t even notice so much time had gone by.

Caroline rolled onto her side and was quickly lulled into blissful sleep after their late-night exertions. Klaus was distracted by the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest for a long time until his mind was ensnared by its usual culprits, thoughts trapped in the latest batch of torments and woes to take over the Mikaelsons’ lives. 

 When Caroline opens her eyes and offers him a slow smile, Klaus feels himself touch ground again.

 "'Morning," she slurs in that husky voice, still thick with sleep.

 "Good morning, sweetheart," he replies with a short grin.

 Caroline yawns as she stretches out her body under the thin sheet covering her modesty.

 "Did you sleep at all?" she asks, blinking sluggishly at him.

 "I'm well-rested, if that's what you're asking."

 "It's not." Caroline props herself up on one elbow to stare levelly at him. Some of that drowsiness in her eyes dissipates, disappointment panging through him for bringing her back to the harshness of reality so fast. This is why, sometimes, especially on those not-so-rare nights when he ends up not getting any sleep, he'd rather not stay in bed. It allows the reprieve that slumber offers Caroline to last a little while longer. "Is it about Elijah?" she inquires, a knowing look on her face.

 Klaus' eyes wander away from hers. "It's about everything," he states vaguely, but not untruthfully. 

 Caroline hums unconvinced. "While I know you don't need to sleep, I also know it spells nothing but trouble when you can’t. It’s never good when you spend the whole night thinking."

 "Well, not the whole night," he says with a suggestive leer. "I did spend a good portion of the time engaged in far more pleasant activities."

 She rolls her eyes at him, but her smile is more than a little satisfied when she leans into him. "You're not as smooth as you think, Mikaelson."

 "I beg to differ." Caroline chuckles, shifting under the sheets to press herself against his side, placing a kiss on his shoulder, then his neck, his jaw. Klaus snakes a hand around her back, pulling her closer still, feeling the familiar stirrings of heat in his underbelly. "Shall I prove my point?" he all but purrs.

 Caroline smirks against the corner of his mouth, her palm coming to rest on his chest. Klaus covers her hand with his, angling his face to take her mouth into a kiss. Her breasts pressing against his skin sends a tingle shooting through his body, and his other hand is already sliding down her spine, ready to guide her to straddle him, when lively conversation in the next room makes them pause.

 "Oh-oh," Caroline mutters. "I guess that means Mr. Wolfy is up early today."

 Klaus lets out a disappointed sigh.

 Eve doesn't cry so much when she wakes up anymore. Now, she either stays quietly in her crib until someone sees to her, or she starts playing with her toys. A social butterfly like her mother, she loves to engage in complex conversations with that hideous stuffed wolf Jackson gave her and her absolute favorite toy, the wooden knight Klaus carved for Rebekah when they were children.

 When he started to wake up to the sound of her talking to herself, he became worried, thinking maybe she was seeing things they weren't - which, in New Orleans, could mean a number of horrifying deals. But Caroline assured him that it is perfectly normal for young children to talk to inanimate objects, especially one who lives exclusively amongst adults.

 Apparently, it's good exercise for her imagination, or something.

 When Klaus is watching her, he will make a point to take part in her debates, always highlighting Mr. Knight's grandeur compared to Mr. Bog Scum. 

 "Sweetheart, this filthy dog here is the enemy. He wants to shroud you in flannel, carry you away to the swamp and bore you to sleep. Mr. Knight is here to save you from this stinky animal's claws."

 He's convinced one day she'll understand what he means.

 What’s most troublesome, however, is that Eve has started to attempt to climb out of her crib on her own. They always lock the other door to her bedroom when she's asleep, but the door connecting her room to Caroline's is always left unlocked for safety reasons. One of these days, Klaus thinks, their little wolf is going to catch mommy and daddy in very compromising positions. The idea mortifies him, especially because he and Caroline can get a tad carried away. They are a hybrid and a near-hybrid, after all. Too much energy and whatnot.

 "No rest for the wicked," Caroline speaks around a sigh before peeling away from him. Klaus watches her naked form with wistfulness as she climbs out of bed, his prospect of a lovely morning enterprise disappearing alongside the shape of her beautiful breasts as she shrugs on a fleece robe.

 Caroline vamps off to the en suite bathroom to freshen up a bit and then follows to Eve's room.

 "Good morning, sweet cheeks!" she greets their daughter sunnily. "Good morning to you, too, Mr. Wolfy!" Oh, for goodness' sake, Klaus curses inwardly. "And Mr. Knight!" Much better.

 Minutes later, Caroline returns with Eve, comfortable in fresh diapers, right on her heels, carrying Mr. Inconvenient and Mr. Knight.

 When she sees Klaus, she takes off towards the bed, her little legs getting more and more agile by the day. He pulls the sheets and covers up to his chest while she tries to hoist herself up. With ease, using just one hand, Klaus lifts her up and puts her sitting on his stomach.

 "Good morning, my littlest wolf," he says. "Where's my kiss?"

 His daughter leans down and smacks a loud kiss on his cheek, and then holds Mr. Fleabag close to him for a kiss as well. Klaus makes a face. "Not the dog, Eve."

 "Seriously?" Caroline says with a bored air about her. "You're antagonizing a stuffed animal now?"

 "This thing is a health hazard."

 "That thing has a cute little name, Mr. Wolfy, and your daughter loves him."

 "I refuse to treat a swamp dog as though it were a gentleman. Besides, I'm sure she loves Mr. Knight way more, don't you, love? Where's Mr. Hero?" She shouts something that sounds like Miter Nigh before pushing it onto Klaus' face. He cracks a proud smile at her. "There you go." He attacks her with tickles, and Eve bursts with sweet laughter.

 Caroline shakes her head at him, but he notices she's quite clearly biting back on a smile. "You're impossible."

 "I’m quite possible, I assure you," he replies smoothly. "Where are you going?" he asks when she starts tying her hair into a ponytail and taking clothes from her drawers.

 "Running with Marcel."

 "Oh, for goodness' sake," he protests. "Can you believe this, Eve? It's not even seven in the morning and your mother is willingly stepping out of the house to run. I sometimes fear she might be a psychopath."

 She scoffs loudly. "You would know, wouldn't you?" While she walks by him to go into the en suite, she slaps him lightly across the legs. "Stop telling my child that I'm a psycho, psycho."

 "How else am I supposed to explain this insanity? What kind of person runs for pleasure when there is an infinite array of far more gratifying activities to invest your energy into? Just now we were about to -"

 "Not in front of the small child, Klaus!" she chides from the bathroom.

 "She doesn't know what daddy is talking about, do you, love?" Eve giggles while he lifts her up above him, holding her like a flying superhero. "Blissfully clueless."

 Caroline steps back into the room, already in her exercise gear. Klaus lets out an infinitely despondent sigh. He would love nothing more than to get her out of those.

 "It's inappropriate conversation to have in front of the toddler," she remarks, putting on the smartwatch she bought recently to exercise with and measure her sleep patterns or whatever the bloody hell that is. She showed him all of this gizmo’s functionalities, swearing it’s the best thing ever invented by human minds. Klaus thinks it’s adorable, however incomprehensible, that someone with such close ties with the supernatural world would still be so impressed by technology. There’s literally nothing that cannot be sorted through magic. How is a watch that counts steps supposed to awe you once you’ve seen someone brought back from the dead? Caroline’s attachment to her humanity goes way beyond her empathy. "Besides, it was gonna be a quick activity because I'd go meet Marcel anyway,” she adds after a beat.

 "I can make you see stars in five minutes," he leers, a smirk growing on his face.

 Caroline whips her face at him with what is clearly an attempt at outrage but turns into something else when she can't hold her own smile. She can't deny him when his point was proved just the night before. Several times, in fact.

 "Shut up," she retorts simply. "Can you give her breakfast? I left chopped fruits in the fridge. You can wait about an hour after the bottle and give it to her as a little treat - not Fruit Loops."

 "She loves that thing."

 "Of course she does, it's pure sugar. That's exactly why we don't let her have it all the time. She needs to eat real fruits."

 Klaus rolls his eyes, sitting up in bed and putting the baby beside him. "Honestly, sweetheart, your mother sometimes..." 

 Caroline narrows her eyes at him. "You really love to make yourself out to be the cool parent, don't you?"

 "I don't have to make myself out to be anything, love. I am the parent who doesn't deny her the little joys of sugary treats. If that makes me cool, then you’ve only got yourself to blame." 

 "You're the parent who'll spoil her rotten, that’s what. Let's see how you'll feel when she's 16 and her boyfriend is climbing the balcony in her room in the middle of the night because she never learned how to take a no."

 "Oh, I would love for her suitors to climb her window in the middle of the night. It’ll be the last thing they do,” he says, smiling innocently at Eve.

 “You’ll be such a ray of sunshine when she starts dating.”

 “As per usual," he says with a bite of arrogance. "Hold the child so I can get decent, will you?"

 Caroline picks Eve up and keeps her looking firmly the other way while Klaus flashes out of bed and into the bathroom. He hears Caroline teasing her with “Where did daddy go?” and laughing at what he knows is Eve's extremely confused but astonished face. She thinks they're magicians. It's one of her favorite things, to watch as Klaus makes full use of his vampire speed to all but vanish right before her eyes. Modern technology has got nothing on him.

 There's something extremely heartwarming about his daughter's innocence. One day, she'll be old enough to understand why he can do the things he does. When that day comes, Klaus will cease to be a creature of magic and wonder, to become what he truly is: darkness made flesh. 

 He has never been ashamed of what he is, hardly ever had any qualms with filling the villain shoes, quite glad to do it, in fact, but he suddenly finds himself dreading the day when his child will figure out what it means to carry the Mikaelson name. When their family’s history will weigh down on her shoulders as it does on theirs.

 While making people cower in fear at the mere sound of his name has brought him an obscene amount of satisfaction and pride over the centuries, Klaus has to admit he's fascinated by the pure sparkle in his child's eyes. She's the first human being in a millennium who does not see even a fraction of monstrosity in him, no shadow, no taints, no mortal flaws. Not yet, anyway. All she sees is a funny man who makes her laugh and can hold her up with his finger, tells her stories about evil werewolves and keeps her safe and that's enough for her to adore him. Sometimes, he feels unworthy of such love. As though he's a fraud, deceiving his own daughter and taking advantage of her innocence.

 It still astonishes him that he should ever be capable of making something as pure and bright as that little girl. In a thousand years, Klaus Mikaelson has only ever brought misery and pain into this world. Eve is the first genuinely good thing he's ever done. Then, of course, she inherited all of that from her mother, who holds herself open for compassion and kindness even though she is herself in a symbiotic existence with her own beast. Caroline has taken control of her darkness in ways Klaus doesn't think he's ever seen a vampire as young as her do before. She truly is extraordinary, and every day he hopes, from the bottom of his withered heart, that Eve will turn out to be every inch Caroline's daughter more so than his.

 Klaus can still smell last night’s sex all over himself, so he takes a quick shower and puts on a pair of denims and a shirt and vamps back to the room again, just to surprise Eve. She gasps when he materializes next to her, flinching, and then starts laughing like a little maniac, reaching out to him. 

 "Remember," Caroline says as she lets Eve slide over to Klaus' arms. "Bottle, fruits. No Fruit Loops. I'll tell your other child you said hi."

 "A child who enjoys running has clearly learned nothing from me," he grumbles. “Hopefully I’ll do a better job with this one.” 

 “Start by not feeding her Fruit Loops,” Caroline remarks with a grin before she smacks a loud kiss on Eve's cheek and then one on his.

 When she’s gone, Klaus turns to look at his little wolf, watching him with those dark blues of hers as though she's studying her father. Sometimes he wonders if toddlers know more than they let on.

 "Do you want to do magic?"

 "Yes!" she practically screams, her face splitting with a wide, toothy grin.

 "Get ready, then. Are you ready?" She gives him an exaggerated nod. "Keep your eyes open. One, two..." And then he flashes out of the room with her.

______________

✨ Thanks for reading! :) If you’ve enjoyed this silly thing, please drop me a comment! Your reblogs are also much appreciated to help this reach more people. ✨

[brideofcthulhu10]

I promised you guys I'd whittle something out before the end of the day! (Currently its 11:30 here, so I made my deadline lol) So here's a bit of drama and fluff. Every couple fights, even vampires, but the most important thing is to take responsibility for your actions and communicate. With that in mind, I give you: 

Lost Boys Make Their Fem!S/O Cry During a Fight

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Themes, Possible Triggers, Topics of Physical and Verbal Anger

David

David is not known to mince words in any scenario, so you can bet that means he chooses an s/o who can handle his bluntness. The same could be said for your fights. Unlike Dwayne and Paul, David rarely yells anymore. Instead he's harsh, cold, and what he says often hits very hard. He doesn't tip toe around when he's calm, you can damn well bet he isn't going to be considerate when you tick him off. He can be quite jealous at times, but often it doesn't lead to a fight. Admittedly he can be a tad petty as well, but getting genuinely enraged towards you is not as common. A spat is one thing, but a serious fight can get ugly fast. He is almost jolted when he hears a sharp breath muffled under your hand. Hell he's only ever heard you make that sound during sex, and this was definitely no time to be turned on. He'll turn around and see you with your hand over your mouth trying to hide your shame and feel ungodly levels of guilt. 

David's words are harsh, and when you turn out of the room he's still sitting there utterly flabbergasted that you had such a tearful expression. After all, you had to know he didn't mean it..right?

David will definitely sulk, he hates admitting he was wrong. Not necessarily because he thinks he's in the right for being cruel, but rather he's sure you just need space and then things will get better. He'll expect you back any day... So when you don't, he kind of goes into denial and will wait, and wait… and wait... 

The guys stopped asking about you because every time he hears your name mentioned he grows more pissed off. Eventually he explodes in a rage, which is extremely rare for David.

"So uh.. about Y/N-"

"Why isn't she back yet?! This is stupid, she should know that I don't mean it!"

"Hey, David, man why don't you go talk to Y/N? I sure if you-"

"No! If she wants to stay away, fucking fine! Good riddance!"

Truthfully he's upset. Beyond that, really. He feels awful for making you cry, he's afraid you might hate him now, but he doesn't know how to approach the situation. Apologizing is difficult, to David it's a form of defeat and a part of him doesn't want to face that it's his fault you're gone. 

Eventually he caves in after a week and a half. He misses you like crazy! The guilt gnaw at him to the point that he can't sleep, he can't think straight. Even blood begins to have a bitter taste to it. 

It'll be a late night, closer to 3 am when he just silently appears in your room. If you're asleep he'll just stand there and watch you for a moment. Mostly trying to build up enough willpower to do what he's about to. 

Expect his apology to be kind of crappy. At least, at first. It'll come off as angry, even a bit misguided just because he really hates admitting he fucked up. But when he does, it's the most sincere, heartbreaking moment of your relationship. He may have to turn away from you and shut his eyes before any tears tempt his cheeks. You can't see him like that. Tears means he's getting emotional, that means he's growing attached, and attachment… it's a weakness. When he's weak and attached, people die. 

He lost a love before because he couldn't protect her, he's lost his brothers once because he got careless and underestimated his enemy, he can't lose more. 

Once he apologizes and you come back to him, he's a bit more attached to you physically. He'll hold you from behind with his chin on your shoulder while sitting on his bike, have you sit on his lap at the hotel, even on the boardwalk he's become more open by holding your hand. He isn't ready to say the big "L" word just yet, so this is the most he can muster. Whenever he's too harsh now he'll apologize by hugging you to him. David is still scared of getting close, but he's more afraid of pushing you away from his lack of filter.

Dwayne

It takes a lot to ruffle Dwayne's feathers, so already he's not one to be careless with his words. Unfortunately once he's pushed to that point all bets are off. This usually dismissive vampire of little words becomes an eruption of rage. A lot of it is physical. He'll throw a table or punch a hole in a cement wall. He doesn't mean to scare you. When he gets that worked up he becomes unbelievably tense, almost his body's way of warning you not to push him. With fangs out, standing in the wreckage of his rage he'll pause to see you failing to hold back a mess of tears and immediately stops.

At that point he's exhausted. Rage takes a lot out of him, in the end he just feels flustered and a bit ashamed for losing his cool. The longest a fight lasts is maybe a day or two, usually you give each other space but once he's made you cry that's a different story.

Even if you started the fight he recognizes he shouldn't have done what he did. Temper or not, that's not an excuse to blow up at you. He'll be frustrated with himself for losing grasp of his emotions, and he'll probably take some time to think over his words before trying to solve the issue. It's hard to look at someone else's point of view when you're pissed off at them, he knows that better than anyone. Especially since he grew up with siblings before becoming a vampire. When he's got a good grasp on himself he'll probably try to settle things with you so that you two can get things back to normal.

"Y/N… come here, please," he'll say softly, patting the seat next to him on the couch. As soon as you do, he slings his arm around your shoulder and yanks you into his chest. He doesn't look down at you or say a word, he'll rest his chin on his fist looking straight ahead searching for the right words. If it was a mutual argument he'll explain his own point of view after apologizing for losing his temper, and when it's your turn he'll listen quietly. If it was on him, he's even more remorseful. He's reaching almost a hundred years old by now, he should know better. Truthfully he had the same issue when he was alive, but he never meant to drive you to tears. You'll both sit quietly together on the couch, Dwayne rubbing your back until you've calmed down. After all is said and done he'll tell you how much he loves you, he doesn't want to leave any negative feelings still in your heart. Relationships are a pain, he knows that, but he cares about you more than his own life. 

Paul

Oh when you two go at it the gloves are off! Paul is the most emotional of the group, so when he gets mad all he sees is red. There will be a massive amount of yelling, he may even be fighting back some tears himself. He'll get physically frustrated, punching walls, throwing furniture, kicking things over. Yes, he might get in your face, and you can definitely expect him to bare his teeth at you. Especially if you're in his face too. By now it's not scary, just even more infuriating that he's trying to make to back out using intimidation. 

When you cry it can go one of two ways. It really depends on the context of the fight.

If you started it, or it was a mutual argument he may storm off somewhere in the cave. To him crying can be a cheap tactic to make him feel guilty, so if you've done it when you've done something wrong it upsets him… even more so because he feels like crap! He hates fighting with you! You're his kitten, his babe, regardless whether or not you started the fight he feels terrible seeing you like that. He's just so damn frustrated! After mellowing out with a thick ol' stick of the devil's lettuce he'll sulk out with his hands in his pockets. If you're still there he'll plop next to you and explain why he was so ticked off. Granted, it isn't exactly eloquent the way he puts it. After all emotions are tricky, he doesn't always know how to express himself verbally. If you've already left and it's still night, he'll fly over to your place and try to settle things with you. He doesn't want to go to bed angry at you, and he definitely doesn't want you going to bed upset with him.

If the fight was started by him, or if you're genuinely upset he'll stop. Especially if your tears are from him hurting you. Then it's all love. He sets aside his temper, and pulls you into his arms. It'll take a moment for him to calm down, but it's just a plethora of tender apologies while he holds you.

"I'm sorry kitty-cat," he coaxes you, holding your head to his chest. "Don't cry, okay? I hate it when you cry." 

If you aren't emotionally drained there'll probably be a lot of make-up sex in either situation. Once you two have made up, he wants to do everything he can to be close to you. Plus, he needs a release as well. Afterwards, he'll snuggle up to you still wearily mumbling apologies under his breath. 

Marko

Anger isn't a common emotion for Marko. Well, unchecked rage that is. He can get a little irritated, but it really takes a lot for him to lose his temper. Even still it's closer to David's methods than Paul. Again it's the context. If you've done something wrong or started the fight he'll be more prone to outbursts. 

While you're screaming at him, in his face he'll just watch you silently with a blank stare. On the surface he's calm. There's not a lot of yelling, but there can be some physical rage if you really push him. Marko would punch the wall and leave a crumbling chasm in his path, reminding you what happens when he's pushed too far. Truthfully he'd never put you in harm's way, but when he gets like this it's hard for him to stifle his predatorial rage that tends to poke through the cracks. 

If he's the one who's upset with you, even if it's on him, he probably won't let on at first. While not petty, he'll seem distant from you. In public he'll yank you to him like a wolf warning others to stay away from his mate, but alone in private won't touch you as much. You may try to ace your hand on his shoulder and he'd immediately excuse himself from the room to sulk. If you really get clingy he grows even more agitated and will have very rough angry sex with you, his fangs may even come out in the process. Especially if he's jealous.

 When you cry, it sucks. During a fight, after jealous defiling, when he intimidates you, it just sucks. If you step away from him he knows he's messed up. 

Part of him doesn't want to cave in so easily to your displays of emotion, but if you're legitimately hurt by his actions he'll just let out an exasperated sigh. He may excuse himself verbally for a moment to try and gather his thoughts, or he'll sit you down and try to explain his reasons for being so enraged. If it's on him he'll carry you to the couch and hold you to him. 

"*sigh* Look.. I'm sorry for going overboard the way I did, baby girl. I shouldn't have done that…"

If you cry after sex he'll feel like an utter asshole and hold you tight to him. He'll pet your hair, rub your back, even offer to let you smack him for being such a jerk. He may try to nibble your neck over kiss you until you start to giggle then give you his signature smile.

"There she is. I'm sorry I made you so sad, baby girl."

In all honesty this isn't a common occurrence. Marko still rarely ever gets mad at you, most of the time he's very laid back. So losing his temper is a bit jarring for him as well. He's never sure what will come out when he loses his temper, which is a huge reason why he does everything he can to keep himself in check. You may be a pain in the butt sometimes, but so can he. And above all, you're his pain in the butt. He still loves you more than anything at the end of the day. 

[wonderland-in-bloom]

if only

[malleus draconia x reader]

@geodraconia asked: Hey there ! Love your writing ~❤ Can you write a piece for Malleus and a s/o who dies protecting him? They both loved each other but never confessed it and were always struggling.

good angsty fics for a good rainy day. also i wrote the whole fic on paper cuz i didn’t feel like typing it out on my laptop. it just gives me different vibes lolol~

♡

THE grueling memories ate at him. it clawed at him. it hurt him, demanding to be felt. he would spend the cold, lonely nights leaned against the fence of the ramshackle dorm. the place where he and the love of his life first met. he reminisced on the bitter yet sweet memories of him and his love. why did he even go back to that broken down dorm even when he knew it was no longer abandoned? why did he even go back every night to meet the human who would soon steal his heart? why did he even help them when they were in need? why did he even fall in love..? his love’s soothing voice still rung in his ears. “malleus...” how his name would gracefully escape their lips and be heard as a blissful melody to his hears.

you were his world. and he was yours. he would give anything and everything he had to be able to have you be beside him once more. after all, he never got to say the three words to come out of his mouth. those three word beings a declaration of admiration and affection, “i love you”. tonight however, was different. tonight had been a night of dread. a night where he got reminded who’s fault it truly was that you were now gone. 

“malleus please listen to me! it’s all too suspicious! do you not see?” you pleaded him to stay. malleus had received a letter from an anonymous sender. the letter consisted of an invitation for him to meet this anonymous sender at 5 pm in an unknown location to malleus.  “(y/n), please. there’s a possibility it might be something important.” he replied. you didn’t agree with decision. you knew he practically had a target painted on his back. you knew the many enemies he had as it came with his infamous title. “it’s worrying! the letter told you not to take lilia, silver, or sebek with you! please! how does this not sound suspicious at all to you?!” you grabbed his hand, trying to pull him back and hopefully just make him listen to more of your words. he thrashed his hand and pulled it away from you.

“(y/n) why do you even bother?” although he didn’t raise his voice, you were able to tell from his tone that it was cold and menacing even. because i care about you, those words almost slipped out. “well...it’s because...” you really couldn’t answer. you really didn’t know what to answer. “if you don’t even have an answer then why should you bother?” malleus hissed as he left the room. tears pricked the corner of your eyes. your suspicions still stood and you took it upon yourself to run as fast as your feet could take you and chase after malleus. malleus stood there in an unfamiliar are which was a clearing surrounded by trees and a dark forest. he examined his surroundings while waiting for the anonymous sender to show up.

“draconia.” a hooded figure stepped out from the shadows and presented himself in front of malleus. he recognized him. of course he did. he would recognize that face anywhere. it was his fated enemy, a student from royal sword academy. “i want nothing to do with you.” he started to turn away before the figure cleared their throat. “this rivalry has to end.” malleus stopped in his tracks. “excuse me?” his rival stepped forward towards malleus. “this has gone on for far too long!” you popped your head out from the trees to be able to witness the scene unravel in front of your very eyes. “i propose peace. i want this rivalry to end. what good has this rivalry brought onto us? it has brought both our sides nothing but disaster. i want that to stop today. please. i don’t want to see anyone suffer.” 

the first thing that came up in malleus’s mind was you. he could imagine the smile on your face when he’d tell you how the rivalry had stopped. how happy you would be. now he felt guilty for treating you the way he did earlier. “so, what do you say? allies?” malleus hesitated. no matter how much he hated him, he wanted to do this for you. his precious (y/n). oh how you’ve made his heart gone soft. he turned around to gaze into his rival’s eyes. you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. finally, the day arrived the stupid rivalry between the two of them was about to stop. while lost in your own thoughts, you could hear a click coming from a nearby distance to where you were standing. you were aghast to see the sight of many students from royal sword academy wielding crossbows with a red liquid coating the sharp edge of the arrow. you learnt well enough from professor crewel’s alchemy class, that the red liquid was one of the deadliest poisons which was able to kill anything, no matter how strong they were. an agonizing, painful death. 

your breath hitched as your body was filled with the rush of adrenaline. you realized that the signal was going to be when malleus and his rival would shake hands..! malleus had already extended his hand to shake hands. you took off running in their direction as fast as you can. however it was too late. the arrows were released and you didn’t have enough time to warn him. “malleus..!” you stepped behind him, shielding him from the incoming arrows. your back faced the tree-line as you slowly started to feel a sharp, hot, piercing sensation on your back. he failed to comprehend what was going on as when he turned around, your back was covered with arrows, piercing through your skin and coated you in a layer of dark red. “(y/n)!” he caught you in his arms. blood trickled from your mouth but alas you kept a smile. “b-before...i do ha..have an answer....for you.” it was hard for you to breathe, let alone talk. 

“i bo...bother...because...i...i care...about you, m..malleus!” it pained him to hear your words as you struggled to engulf large amounts of air as you could. it pained him to hear your usual sweet, alluring voice become so hoarse and lifeless. it pained him to hear you like this. a lump formed on the back of his throat, suffocating him. “no..no..! (y/n)! stay with me! please...” you felt yourself getting weaker and weaker, slipping away from life’s grasp by the second. “malleus...” with your weak, blood stained hands, you reached out to touch his face, for the last time. “i...i...i lo--” your eyes were struck with lifelessness as your hand grew limp, falling out of malleus’s reach and onto the ground. your final breath left your pale lips. you were gone. physically there but in all other aspects, missing. malleus had just witnessed his whole world crumble. tears streamed down his face. this couldn’t be real! this must be a nightmare! malleus held you close to his chest, sobs erupting from him. 

all those who wielded the crossbows retreated, afraid what would happen to them. malleus growled as his eyes glowed a dangerous green laced with malicious intent. “some alliance..!” green flames erupted and burnt everything around him, getting rid of his rival and al his goons in the process. there was no end to this flame, there was no end to this pain. there was no end to this grief. there was no pain to this guilt. lilia, sebek, and silver arrived moments too late as the three saw his suffering figure which cradled your dead body in his arms. if only he had just listened. if only he didn’t let himself but so full of himself. if only he was able to admit to you and himself that he truly cared about you. it’s all my fault. if i just listened to you, none of this would have happened. (y/n)...i’m so sorry my love. 

you were always ravishing in his eyes. both in life and in death. your body was encased in a glass coffin adorned with an array of flowers. malleus had cast a spell to prevent your body from ever decaying. even in your state, you still had a smile visible on your face. that was the same smile which you had when you parted with your love. malleus stood in front of your coffin placed in the middle of a secret garden he built just for you. in the past, he hoped that one day the two of you would spend time with each other in this secret garden of his, but now the circumstances were different. now one was lost in the depths of death while the other was roaming the living world however not feeling alive. “(y/n) my love...i’m so so so sorry.” he placed a blood red rose on top of your glass coffin. he bent down and kissed the coffin. “i’m so sorry. if only i wasn’t so dense. so stupid. so full of myself.”

“if only i realized sooner....things would’ve been different. if only i was able to tell you how much i love you. if only...”

♡

ok that was a tad bit angsty ehehehe. all that aside, i miss the comfort of writing in a proper notebook lol. i’ll make the drafts for all these fics in my book first i guess eheh

love, a♕