#normal people fall sick and sleep i fall sick and start making art

[konbupie]

once again the tumblr people get it first because yall are special

[angel-fics]

In The Room Where You Sleep

Summary: Dalton was just being curious and stumbles upon something he probably shouldn’t have. He then does something he shouldn’t have.

Warnings: Mentions of the Further, mentions of entities, Dalton being a creep, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation (f & m), sexual fantasies

All credit to @glodessa who wrote the imagine that inspired this, so much talent there and you’re feeding my Dalton addiction

Dalton was your friend. His primary art class was in the studio next to the orchestra rooms where you practiced in. He’d wandered in on you playing a section piece on the violin after he’d forgotten that his class was cancelled.

Since you two had obviously seen each other on multiple occasions when going to and leaving from class, he’d felt comfortable striking up a conversation. He usually wasn’t into initiating introductions, but Chris had started forcing him to interact with more people and make friends. You were the first person he had introduced himself to without her assistance.

In a way, he felt a sick sense of possession when it came to you because of that. It made him feel funny, like he was gross and he tried to stomp it down, but it would crawl it’s way up his throat whenever you talked to him. He’d met you all on his on, without a buffer or cleverly charming segue. You knew him for him from the get go, and still liked him. You liked him enough to start waiting for him before classes for a chat. You liked him enough to exchange contacts and let him take pictures of you to save for his own personal enjoyment put into his saved contacts.

You liked him enough to let him walk you back to your dorms every time he had the chance to. Which he did, considering he started walking a different path to insure that he would run into you more often.

He didn’t think he was odd, not really. Lots of friends took secret pictures of each other. For fun, it was funny, like a secret joke. And lots of friends walked together in between classes, it was normal. Even if they didn’t share certain classes. Or if one of the friends wasn’t completely aware that the other friend was nearby.

Dalton didn’t consider it strange that he didn’t like when you talked to Chris, or any of his other friends. Or anyone that might find you attractive. In his eyes, that should’ve meant everyone. You were gorgeous and people should be falling over themselves trying to be with you, in his opinion. But you were his. His friend, at least. And he hated not having your full attention.

Nighttime was the worst, in some ways. You two had met up on occasion to help each other study or wind down from an intense test. But most nights, you turned in early to spend time with your roommate. Dalton hated your roommate, she was so clingy and always convinced you to go back to the dorms, cutting off his time with you. He thought she was off, or at least very selfish, and that she used every opportunity to guilt you and take advantage of your kindness and naivety.

Dalton would never do that, he was lucky to get to be your friend. You were beautiful, talented, kind and accepting. You even accepted his ability of astral projection without hesitation. You were beyond perfect to him, and if he wasn’t with you, he was thinking about you. Constantly, and usually aloud, much to Chris’ annoyance.

“Dolphin! Please, for the love of fuck, ask that girl out already. You’re driving me nuts!” She threw herself back onto the spare bed in Dalton’s dorm in dramatic agony, groaning loudly in complaint.

“No, Chris. She’ll just think that I became friends with her because I wanted to get in her pants,” he dismissed, tossing a dirty t-shirt into his hamper a little too forcefully.

“Isn’t that what all guys do? What’s the big deal?” Chris sat up again to try to convince him. It wasn’t the first time either, but she was almost positive that you liked Dalton back and would rather you keep his mouth too occupied for him to verbally obsess over you. Like he was doing right now.

“I’m not going to do that, Chris. Just drop it.�� His voice was unnervingly firm and Chris snapped her mouth shut before another incentive could fall out. Dalton was usually mild-mannered, at least when it came to anyone but his dad, not really the aggressive type. Anti-social and surly, but not aggressive. Unless it had something to do with you.

Chris thought there was something not quite right about Dalton’s crush on you but she figured his abnormal childhood and resulting trauma made it hard for him properly process his feelings. And she was reluctant to ask in case it set him off.

“I heard her roommate is going home to her parents’ for her dad’s birthday, maybe y’all can hang out more this weekend,” Chris suggested instead, unfettered by Dalton’s tone. “She left earlier this afternoon.”

Something seized in Dalton’s chest. You hadn’t mentioned that to him. You didn’t have a reason not to. Was there someone else? Were you going to spend the whole weekend with another guy? Did you have a boyfriend? Anger and hatred for this secret man clouded his mind and he felt like throwing something against the wall until it broke.

“I hadn’t heard about that,” he replied to Chris coolly. “I’ve got some homework to finish, do you mind?”

Chris nodded slowly, grabbing her bag and quickly making her way to the door, watching Dalton worriedly. She gave a half-hearted wave goodbye and left without a word.

As soon as the door shut, he quickly locked it, tearing his ball cap from his head and flinging thoughtlessly towards his desk, knocking over a small stack of his sketchbooks and a tin of water. Cursing under his breath, Dalton begrudgingly trudged to clean up the mess before the water could stain or damage any of his work.

After mopping up the water, he flipped through his drawings to check if any of it ruined the paper. One of the sketchbooks was relatively new, but nearly full of pencil and ink sketches. Of you.

Most of them took up an entire page of their own. They were innocent, somewhat, just candids that he’d done while or after hanging out with you. You smiling, laughing, playing the violin, biting your lip awkwardly. Gorgeous and sweet.

There were some other ones, smaller in comparison to the rest and done with a light hand. You changing through the window of your room. You bending over at work. You crying to your mom on the phone after you tore your favorite dress right before a date you ended up not going on. Done in a hurry by someone who was sketching without a still reference.

It was not stalking. No, he wasn’t like that. He didn’t threaten you or send you lewd messages. He didn’t get off on scaring you or making you feel unsafe. He wanted you to feel safe around him, did everything in his power to make sure you were always comfortable with him. Plus, he never invaded your privacy, he just looked. Watched. It was friendly, protective even.

Plus, those sketches were nothing compared to the rest. Small enough for three separate drawings to fit on a page, and darkly filled in with a heavy and rough hand.

It wasn’t intentional, not at first. He was a guy. You were his crush. He couldn’t control his own thoughts, let alone his dreams. It happened, and it was completely normal and natural. Not at all creepy or perverted.

He dreamt of you often. He couldn’t keep his mind off you even in his sleep. Of course, his unconscious mind was different than his conscious mind. Mostly, anyway. A lot more eager for you, hungry for you.

The pencil drawings were of you as you appeared to him in his dreams. Bent over his desk, wearing a string of pearls and a sultry smile. You, on his bed with your legs spread out invitingly, your fingers scissoring your slick folds. There was even one featuring him, his lower face dripping with drool and your arousal as his tongue delved into your wet heat from under you. That one was his favorite, even if the drawing itself wasn’t exactly his best work skill-wise. He had a hard time balancing the pad with only one hand, which he was also using to draw.

Dalton sighed and picked up all of the sketch pads, putting them back where they were and collapsing on his back on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he should bring up your roommate leaving and confront you about not telling him. You must have had a good reason, right? It’s not like you were getting tired of him or anything. Right?

As he drifted further and further into his thoughts, the room became darker around him. Standing up to fix his lamp, he caught the sight of himself sleeping in his peripheral. He’d fallen asleep and accidentally projected.

He didn’t do so often anymore, the Further was a scary and dangerous place and he was cautious of bringing something back with him. But it had its advantages, for pranks or finding out things that others couldn’t. Surprisingly, he’d never used his ability to watch you. You were too pure and beautiful to see through the lenses of the Further, he liked seeing you surrounded by light and color, with no potential of evil spirits ruining the experience for him.

But just this once…

No! He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

You trusted him, it would be so easy. And it’s not like he was trying to be a weirdo, he just wanted to see if you had plans that weekend without having to actually ask you. It would only be once, for a few minutes. He wouldn’t mess with you or your things. He would just listen in and leave.

He grabbed the lantern and walked out of his room. He could’ve found your dorm with his eyes closed, but since it was in a different building and he was traveling through the Further, it took him longer than he would’ve liked. But at least he didn’t encounter anyone. You lived on the second floor of your dorm house and yours was nicer and more expensive than his. You had your own bedroom and personal bathroom, not having to share with your roommate and the rest of your floor like Dalton did.

Your door was unlocked and after he entered your dorm, he locked it himself, knowing he’d have to unlock again it in order to leave. Your bedroom door was open and he could see you through it, sitting at your desk and typing on your phone. Silently and curiously, he peered over your shoulder to watch you text your roommate.

He rolled his eyes at seeing her contact but ignored it in favor of the messages being sent. Mostly average, just you being your considerate self and asking about her trip home. She, obviously, sent paragraph after paragraph detailing every insignificant second of her weekend away, not once asking anything about you. The entire conversation revolves around her and Dalton had to bite his tongue to avoid scoffing in your ear, which was inches from his mouth.

Finally she asked about you, specifically your plans for while she was gone. Luckily, she could serve a purpose for once, Dalton thought.

You mentioned work, homework and just relaxing and Dalton was tempted to leave and rid himself of his craving to kiss you. Then, he saw you type his name. You wanted to surprise him by inviting him over for a sleepover. Your roommate responded by teasing you about you and Dalton finally progressing to the next stage in your friendship; a relationship.

Huh, maybe your roommate wasn’t as bad as Dalton thought she was.

Dalton’s heart was racing as he continued to read all of your roommate’s suggestions for extremely sexual twists on common sleepover activities, all in order to seduce him. You didn’t have to try to seduce him, but trying any one of these wouldn’t hurt. He felt his cock hardening in his pants and knew that he probably should’ve left. Like, now.

But then you sighed loudly into the empty air. Your head dropped back, your lips parted and you shifted awkwardly in your seat, your thighs pressing together tightly. Dalton felt his mouth water just watching you and suddenly stopped in his tracks. He decided that he would wait until you either went to the bathroom or fell asleep. If he tried leaving before then, you might catch him.

So he stood off to the side and simply observed you from up close. You seemed more deflated when you weren’t around him, less animated and poise. Less…cheery. You continued to stay at your desk texting your roommate for a while before getting up for a glass of water. It seems like she was going to bed. You paced around the kitchen as you sipped your drink, looking slightly anxious about how the conversation ended. Dalton regretted not reading it along with you and now he couldn’t because your phone was off and locked.

Huffing out a tense laugh to yourself, you marched back into your room, passing Dalton to get to your phone. You continued pacing as you opened up your messages and scrolled until you found a particular contact, hesitating for a moment and then opening the chat thread. Dalton stood in front of you this time and read his own name from upside down. Why were you pausing when it came to texting him? Did this happen often? We’re you inviting him over?

He watched you type out a greeting and began pacing in your room. When the message delivered, Dalton panicked before remembering that his phone was next to his actual body. You wouldn’t catch him over his phone notifications sounding off in your otherwise silent room.

You turned off your phone and sat on your bed, your back straight and your eyes staring out into nothingness. Your leg bounced erratically and you started checking your phone every thirty seconds in case you missed his message. You were waiting for a response from him, Dalton realized. And he couldn’t do that while he was standing here with you.

Now was definitely the time to go and you gave him the perfect opportunity when you started collecting your things to take a shower, muttering to yourself about how desperate you were. It was clear that you were agitated from waiting on his message, and he supposed it was because he hardly ever took more than 20 seconds to start typing back. He only took long if he was busy, and he would always tell you beforehand if he was.

As much as he wanted to watch you undress yourself and shower, becoming aroused slightly once more at the idea, he wouldn’t cross that boundary when you were so vulnerable and unaware. It was completely different from the times he watched you change your shirt or remove your bra from outside your window. He was in your home and you were going to be completely naked. Dalton wanted go reserve that honor for when you would strip in front of him eagerly, at least for the first time he ever saw you naked.

*~*~*

Gasping, Dalton sat up in his own bed, his erection pressing against his sweats and his body feeling sweaty. He immediately opened his messages and read your message asking him what he was doing. Getting his own clothing, he walked to the common bathroom in his dorm house and stripped, sending you a picture of his shower stall with the reflection of his bare torso halfway in the frame.

He’d never been so forward with you before. You’d seen him shirtless on occasion, he wasn’t shy about his body, but never on purpose and he hardly ever sent you pictures instead of just telling you what he was doing. But now that he knew you felt the same way he did, he felt confident enough to give actual signals to tell you that.

He turned on the shower and waited for the ancient water settings to actually heat up the water. As he was about to step in, you messaged him back with a photo of your own.

You were wearing nothing but a robe, tied at the waist, but doing a very poor job at concealing your cleavage, and your hair was soaked. The mirror that you had taken the picture in was fogged and he could see streams of steam swirling in the air around your head. So you liked really hot showers, fuck, that was attractive to him. You smiled shyly into the camera with one of your hands clutching a towel in your hands.

You: “I just got out of the shower, how funny is that?”

God, you were adorable without even trying. He wondered if the placement of your robe was intentional or if you were just that sexy without trying to be. It could go either way, you were as effortlessly cunning as you were absurdly oblivious to your affect on others.

He quickly went through his shower routine quickly, not taking his time to enjoy the water and relax like he usually did. He didn’t want to keep you waiting again. He decided to toe the line of flirtation and idle conversation once more by sending you another photo. This time following your lead with a mirror pic. He was still shirtless and brushing his teeth with an overly wide and sud-filled smile. His shorts hung low on his hips and his entire frame was centered in the photo this time.

D: “What’s up?”

It was a lame line, but he wanted to keep the conversation going and see if you were going to invite him over. He spit out his toothpaste and gargled mouthwash, accidentally swallowing some as you replied back. Coughing at the strong taste burning his throat, his eyes widened as he memorized every pixel of the photo you sent, catching on to his little provocation.

The mirror in your bathroom was still slightly fogged but he could clearly see that all you were wearing was a t-shirt. It was big enough to cover your thighs, so Dalton didn’t know what you were wearing under it and he could see your nipples poking through the material ever so slightly. He dragged his lip into his mouth and bit down hard, hand clenching on the edge of the counter. He gathered his shower stuff and walked back to his room, keeping his towel gathered in a ball in front of his crotch in case he ran into anyone this late.

It didn’t occur to him to read the message you sent until he was about to send one himself. He was so distracted by your selfie that he completely forgot that he was in the middle of a conversation with you. He wondered if it was weird to be more turned on by you in your pajamas than you soaking wet and in a towel.

You: “Nothing much? What are you doing right now?”

He sat down on his art stool, and angled the camera at the mirror that sat in the corner between his spare bed and the wall. He hadn’t gotten the motivation to actually put it up so it laid on its side and only showed from his waist down at this angle. The picture showed his bare stomach, shorts and legs, with one of his feet braced up on the leg of his seat.

D: “Chilling in my room now, you?”

You responded a minute later in much the same fashion. This photo didn’t show your face either, but he could see your hair and the junction between your neck and shoulder at the top of the photo. You were stretched out on your bed, your legs propped up in front of you and you holding the weight of your upper body on your other arm as you snapped a photo of yourself. From the way your shirt rode up on your thighs, you weren’t wearing any shorts, but he couldn’t see your underwear.

You: “Same. My roommate left to her parents’ house so I have the place to myself.”

Was this your way of implying that you wanted him to come over? How does he respond to that information without sounding weird or letting on that he’d already known? Should he tell you that he already knew? He decided that now was the perfect time to reorganize his desk and actually put up the mirror in his room. It took fifteen minutes for him to respond and the guilt ate at him now that he knew how you reacted when he didn’t message back quickly.

D: “Oh, really? Yeah, I kinda always have my place to myself, haha :)Look what I finally did.”

The added “haha” looked so stupid that he wanted to jump out his window. He hoped the selfie he sent to you would make up for it. He was standing in front of his mirror, acting as if he was only trying to show you the mirror you’d been bugging him about putting up. He was still shirtless and a light sheen of sweat made his body glow slightly from the exertion of his impromptu redecorating. He angled his phone to show a grin, but the rest of his face was covered.

You took a few minutes to respond yourself and Dalton thought he understood your anxiety about having to wait for messages. He felt the anxiety was all the more potent now that you were sending each other photos of yourselves. But he couldn’t deny that he liked the tension, the anticipation ate him up and he was beyond keyed up.

You: “I got bored being here by myself so I’m doing my makeup :p”

You: “Oml, finally!”

You were kneeling in front of the camera with your legs slightly spread. The lighting in your room made it hard for him to see what your underwear looked like and he felt like a pervert for being disappointed. Probably not as bad as he would’ve felt before he knew that you reciprocated his feelings. Your hair was put up into an updo so it was out of your face and it reminded him of that Pamela Anderson hairdo that you complained about not being able to do. You looked beautiful, your makeup was darker than you normally had it, more like dark seduction than pretty fairy. Dalton wondered if that was on purpose.

He sent you a closeup selfie of half of his face, his eyes mostly angled down at the phone screen instead of the actual camera and a slight smirk on his lips. His neck, collarbones and one of his shoulders were on display for you as well

D: “Guess I got bored too. Your hair looks like Pamela Anderson’s, btw”

D: “I like your makeup, it looks good!”

You responded quickly and without a photo.

You: “Are you joking me?! The one time I’m not bending over backwards trying to do it right…”

Dalton had to take a minute to recover from the mental image of you bending over backwards, particularly the image of how your breasts would look at that angle when your next message came in with another photo.

You: “Come over?”

This time, your phone was placed close to the floor and angled up for Dalton to see your knees pulled up to your chest and you dramatically and exaggeratedly pouted at the camera, your dark red lips shining in the camera flash. The flash also, probably unintentionally, highlighted the junction between your legs and he could actually see your panties this time. White lace. Son of a bitch!

Instead of responding, he jumped around his room and tried to gather all of his shit to take to your place and was pulling up his jacket when he noticed some papers on his bed. His homework that he had told Chris about earlier and completely forgot about. It was due at midnight and his teacher was a hardass about homework.

“Fuck!” His curse echoed loudly in his empty and otherwise silent room and he slammed his things down on the bed in anger.

As desperate as he was to go to your room and potentially spend the night inside you, he was stuck inside his dorm unless he wanted his grade to tank. With a heavy heart and tense motions, he sat in his chair, a different one from his stool, and faced his mirror. He spread his legs so that he was man-spreading and propped a leg up on the edge of his bed. He held up his homework in one hand above his head and made a faux-angry face at the camera, his expression not even making at dent when it came to showing just how angry he actually was. He gave himself a minute of fantasizing about your lips kissing marks all over his body before snapping the picture and sending it to you.

D: “I was on my way when I remembered I had homework. Fucking sucks! Raincheck? I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning?”

He ordinarily didn’t curse over text, or in general. He wasn’t a prude about swearing, but he just didn’t feel the need to do it. However, he also needed you to understand that he wasn’t blowing you off, and then he genuinely was upset about not being able to spend the night with you. He felt it was probably too risky sending you a picture where he was very obviously at half-mast and worried that he was being too forward and would make you uncomfortable.

Two minutes of complete agony imagining all of the ways that you would dismiss him and tell him to forget about it, or get angry and misinterpret what he was telling you. Now that the conversation couldn’t go anywhere, the anticipation wasn’t alluring and fun, it felt like acid burning his skin.

You: “Oh, please do your homework! Grades are important. Breakfast sounds good! Goodnight x”

A kiss, you messaged him a kiss. And you were completely fine with it. For the first time in his life, Dalton felt the urge to do a chest bump with a bro. He was on top of the world right now. He was tempted to rush his homework and run over to you as soon as possible, but as soon as he sat down to do it, he knew that the assignment required all of his time and attention. Fortunately, the assignment itself was relatively simple, but it was incredibly time consuming, which is why he’d been putting it off.

Two hours later, he took some pictures of his completed homework and sent them to his professor’s email. It was fifteen minutes til midnight and he wondered if he should risk going over to you now. You weren’t expecting him, though, and for all he knew, you were asleep or something. He debated texting you that he was done and seeing if you’d extend the invitation to come over again, but you hadn’t even brought up his last picture and that made him a bit insecure. What if you were trying to just ignore it as a way to say you weren’t interested? Even back in your room, when your roommate was encouraging you to take advantage of having your dorm to yourself, you had only denied all of her sexual innuendos. He knew you liked him back, but maybe sending you a picture of like the one he sent was too much too fast?

Oh yeah, astral projector. He could always just pop in and check without actually having to check. It was fine the first time, right? No big deal anymore. He wasn’t hurting anyone.

He relaxed on his bed and before long, he was picking up that lantern once more and leaving his body behind, making sure that all of his lights were on to protect his body before he left the room.

You had been in your room with your door mostly closed when he came in again. You really should make sure your front door was locked, he thought. He heard little whimpers coming from your room and was immediately concerned, automatically assuming that you were crying. Your bedroom door was swaying on account of the industrial fan that you insisted was the only thing strong enough to keep you cool at night. He had no problem opening your door and putting it back in place, making it look completely natural in case you noticed.

From what he could see, you were looking at your phone and were mostly covered by your blanket. Only one of your hands was holding your phone, which Dalton found odd because you normally preferred using both hands. Finally seeing your face, Dalton noticed that you had no tears on your cheeks or in your eyes. You weren’t crying. What the hell were you looking at on your phone?

Him. You were looking at a picture of Dalton that he’d sent to you. More accurately, you were looking at the second photo he had sent you, the one where he was brushing his teeth. It took Dalton several moments to begin thinking again to put the dots together.

Oh. Oh.

Just as Dalton registered what you were actually doing, you threw your blanket aside in frustration and essentially showed him that he was correct. He watched in rapt fascination as you rubbed your clothed center over your panties with two fingers. You kept focused on your phone, swiping over to the photo of him after he hung up his mirror, as your index fingers slipped beneath your lacy white underwear and into your slick heat. Your breathing was loud and shallow, the occasional moan slipping through as you touched yourself.

Dalton should not be here. He knew that. He knew what was and what wasn’t appropriate, his mom made sure he knew how to respect women, so he knew what he was doing was the furthest thing from okay. He also knew that he would have to be dragged by his teeth to get him out of your room. His cock swelled and twitched from under his shorts as he stood over, watching you masturbate to a picture of him. In the low lighting of your mostly dark room, he could see the shine of your wetness on your fingers and over your folds. He wanted to drag his tongue over your labia and savor every drop you gave him. It was all for him, after all, he was entitled to it.

You groaned in annoyance through your teeth and yanked your panties down your legs. Dalton’s severely dilated gaze zeroed in on them and he made a mental note to grab them before he left when your shirt joined it in the floor. You were completely nude and sitting up on your bed, in a very similar position to the photo where you had shown him your makeup. He’d never look at it again without thinking of this. He wished he had a picture of this.

You looked like a goddess or some kind of celestial siren as you arched your back and groped at one of your breasts and toyed with your clit. The chill of your room and the sudden banishment of your blanket had your flesh covered in goosebumps and your nipples hard. Dalton wanted nothing more than to cover your body with his and discover new forms of pleasure using his tongue, hands and cock. You were everything, you surrounded him and took up so much everything. And yet, he wasn’t actually with you, no matter how much he wished he could be. He didn’t know why he couldn’t try, you were his now. You admitted to it. Maybe not to him directly, and maybe you didn’t know he was there, but it didn’t make it any less true.

Dalton approached your bed and was about to rest his weight on it when you grabbed a decorative throw pillow from the mountain of pillows you had on your bed. You shoved it between your legs and adjusted it so that the woven seams pressed between your folds. You rested your weight on it and rolled your hips experimentally to find a rhythm and angle that felt best. Soon, you were panting and gasping, and Dalton could barely hear you over the stupid fan.

As you rode the pillow, Dalton lost his restraint. He either had to take care of himself now and fully condemn himself as an actual peeping tom and a pervert, or take care of you and risk you freaking out and losing you before he could actually have you. He’d rather hate himself for a little while than you hate him forever. He reached into his shorts, cupping his erection and squeezing lightly. He bit his lips and tried to keep quiet. He didn’t think he would last long, and he didn’t really care to either. He’d worry about that once he was actually inside you.

Dalton started off with slow and trading strokes before working up to the rhythm you set for yourself. You were grinding down on the pillow with slow and long thrusts, lowering your body slightly so that the seam of the pillow rubbed your clit. Dalton imagined his face replacing the pillow and started speeding up the movements of his hand, spitting on himself to help his hand move more fluidly along his shaft. Coincidentally, you started to quicken as well, humping the pillow desperately instead of steadily rolling your hips.

“Dalton! Oh…fuck! Daltonnn…” you cried out softly into the seemingly empty room. As the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, you lost strength in your arms and fell to the mattress, your hips still moving rhythmically as you came. Your limbs felt electrocuted and twitchy, and you could do nothing but gasp and whimper as you came down from your high. Rolling over, you reached down and caressed your soaked folds, moaning softly as your fingers became coated in the stringy remnants of your wetness.

Dalton nearly fell to his knees in his desire to suck your fingers into his mouth and devour your cunt. Luckily, he managed to stay upright and went rigid as he came in his hands, making sure the pearly white spurts of semen didn’t make a mess anywhere in your room, if they could. He wasn’t actually entirely sure how it all worked when he was in this state, but he wasn’t going to risk it.

He waited until you fell asleep to grab your panties and leave your dorm, falling back into his own body and finding it a mess. His shorts were soaked at the crotch with his cum because his actual hands couldn’t stop his real orgasm from staining his clothes. He tore off his shorts and decided to sleep naked, hiding your panties in his pillow case.

*~*~*

You woke up refreshed and well-rested the next morning, still not used to the stillness and quiet in the absence of your roommate, Carla. Usually, she was up by now blaring metal music while she got ready for the day and you would make the two of you breakfast. You went to do just that when you heard a knock at your door and remembered that Dalton was supposed to come over with breakfast.

You told him to wait through a text message and grabbed a pair of athletic shorts, yanking them on as you made your way to let him in. Much to your surprise, the door was unlocked, though you don’t remember leaving it that way. In all fairness, you also don’t remember the last time you had locked it, so it was fair game.

Dalton greeted you with a large smile, showing off his extended canines, and a bag from your favorite pastry shop. It was hard not to blush after what you did when you saw the pictures he sent you, but the food was also distracting. You excitedly took the bag from him and started rifling through it as he guided the both of you to your room. Had he ever been inside your dorm before? How did he know which room was yours?

Before you could ask him, he plopped himself onto your bed and settled onto his stomach. He then used a pillow to prop up his chin. The same pillow you had used last night.

There was something about the way he was smiling at you. The way he was watching you.

“So, did you sleep well last night?”

********

Lemme know if you want a part two or maybe a “What if Dalton hadn’t had any homework?” situation.

This was super fun and sorry if it’s too long

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Angels and Demons (Halloween Special) Part 1/3:  Justice League Dark x Magician!Reader

Synopsis: The Demon that's been preying on Vivian's body has finally found a vessel to use to set his plans in motion. But he's not alone, aiding him is a being that will stop at nothing to kill the threat Vivian poses, and to do that they will need help from a few people who have scores to settle with her.

Note: This story follows Justice League Dark (2017) but with a few twists.

Warning: Please be advised that there are mentions of self-harm in this chapter.

~ Many Years Ago ~

Nineteen-year-old Vivian Pryor has seen Hell, has walked its grounds, but as she looked at the scene before her she doubted that it was Hell at all. Because this was far scarier than any plains of the damned she's seen.

They were called by a local priest in the small town in Essex. The priest was pudgy and old, probably had a head full of hair when he was young, and despite his marriage to God, he keeps a flask of scotch in his coat's pocket at all times. He says it was to help him sleep because he was just like them. Someone who can see beyond the living world and was given more gifts, one that he cannot cope with prayers alone. 

The priest told them that the town started to act weirdly. Weirder than the Sleepy Sickness that’s taken everyone up until a couple of years ago when suddenly, those who have been asleep, having trouble getting to sleep, and sleepwalking just went back to normal after nearly a century. 

“Everyone’s been rampaging, John,” said the Priest who seems to know John personally. Vivian decided to ask him about it when they were alone, but as always John didn’t say much about it. “Everyone – people killing in the streets, their neighbors and their families! All of them claim that they saw demons chasing them. I tried, John, you know I did, but I couldn’t – something’s wrong with the exorcism, John.”

“You smell it in the air. Sulfur,” said John. “Someone has been playing cards with the devil and brought them in. Now, dark magic has plagued this town. Making them see demons. What’d you reckon, Vee?”

Vivian tore her gaze away from the sight of a child’s bloody shoe on the road and said, “I can feel it all the way from the town we were at. Where is she? The girl whose…”

“How did you know that it was…” The priest trailed off.

“Vee has a good gut feeling. So, where is she?”

It was a girl named Isabel, who has been in a psych ward since she was a girl after claiming she’s been seeing things that others can’t. Ghosts and monsters. The things that would have any parents drive their kids to the closest horror institution just to “get them help”. But then Isabel died not long into the possession, she jumped off a building and landed into the pool.

Then the demon decided to take her sister instead. Another powerful psychic, at that time they didn’t know she was the target, and John has been dragging them along trying to figure out what the demon wanted until it was too late. The demon has taken the sister’s body, Angela, and was trying to claw its way out of her in the most horrific way possible.

She told him that they should call someone who knows better. She told him that they were not up for this, but hubris was John’s flaw and at that time he felt like he was the king of the world with all the power he had. With all the knowledge in the Dark Arts he possessed. Hell, he just tricked an angel to fall off from God’s good graces by having Vivian sleep with the archangel and then hacked off his wings! 

John was on the contact list of every priest and practitioner of the dark arts – either as a friend or an enemy. Mostly an enemy.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. omnis satanic potestas, omnis infernalis adversarii in nomine et virtute Domini!” John chanted the prayer as he held out his palm at Angela’s direction. Joining him was Chas and Ritchie in the chant. And Vivian… she was trying so hard to keep the binding and say the prayer but she could feel it – the demon – whispering in her ears. It’s breath –

Vee! A woman’s laughter echoed in the room. Vivian, open your eyes, darling! Come on, I got a surprise for you!

“Mom?” Vivian opened her eyes –

It wasn’t her mother.

The face was not human. It was indescribable but for the word sinister. The demon looked at her with its yellow eyes and bloody-beastly face, it grinned at her and –

Vivian was thrown across the room. 

“Vee!” John called out to her.

“John!” Ritchie called for him to focus.

But John left his post, leaving the two to continue the ritual. Holding down Angela as she thrashed around and the demon’s claws scratching from the inside of her stomach, trying to get out.

John came to Vivian and helped her up. Holding her by her cheeks he tried to get her to focus on him and not the exorcism in front of them. “Not now, not now,” he muttered as he saw her eyes turn gold. “Vee, love, listen to me, I need you to fire all that you got at that thing. Do you understand?”

“John, I’ll burn her!” Vivian argued.

“She’s gone, Vivian!”

“We can still save her!”

“Look at her!” John pointed at Angela’s body twisting and turning. Any more and her neck would snap. “Her body is deteriorating – it’s been days, Vee. She won’t make it. Death is mercy. And only your fire can cleanse her and get rid of that demon inside her.”

“No!”

“Then I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. He placed a kiss on her forehead and stepped back.

“John?” Vivian tried to follow but found herself bound in a circle. She was now part of a spell and it was connected to Angela’s body. “JOHN! DON’T DO THIS, JOHN! PLEASE! DON’T!”

Chas and Ritchie tried to stop him, but John snapped at them and trapped the two against the wall and he continued the ritual. A binding ritual that would have the demon be trapped in her body and with the Spear of Destiny he’ll kill it and her.

“I’m sorry, Vee. But it’s the only way. It’s you or the entire world, love,” he said through gritted teeth.

“JOHN, NO! PLEASE, NO! JOHN! JOHN!”

Bright light emitted from the circle and the last Vivian saw was everything burning around her.

~ Now ~

Vivian wasn’t sure if it was thunder or the dream that woke her from the restless sleep. Opening her eyes, the first she saw was the rain pattering on the glass of the window with the flashes of lightning. It wasn’t a storm, just one of those days where Gotham’s under a heavy rain cloud. The sudden arm wrapping around her had Vivian turn to her husband who slept peacefully. One of the rare nights that Bruce gets to do so and she tries so hard not to disturb him when he was like this. But like the very detective-superhero he was, he felt her awake and pulled her deep to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” He murmured.

“Nothing,” Vivian answered, her gaze on their clasped hands.

“It’s not always nothing, isn’t it?”

She hummed in answer and thought if she should answer him. “Just a dream.”

“What is it about?”

“Nothing important, go back to sleep.”

“I want to know,” Bruce snuggled closer, if it were even possible.

Lighting struck again and in five seconds thunder followed. It rumbled on the ground as the loud sound almost made her jump. Lightning has struck not far, hopefully just one of the lightning rods around to keep it from striking the ground and cause fire. The Wayne Estate was large, and most of it was just trees and fields. 

“I’m not going to sleep unless you tell me,” Bruce attempted to tease but yawned.

Vivian laughed lightly and played with his wedding band, turning it around his finger. “I was a child in my dream, and it’s one of those days when Mom would bring me to church,” she began, Bruce humming for her to continue. “She’s always been a practicing Catholic and tried to get me to do the same… but even I was stubborn when I was little.”

Bruce chuckled.

She continued. “I was in the church and…” her hand reached to her side, under her shirt, where the tattoo was. “I think it was the time when I got this.”

She could feel his brows furrow. “The tattoo? How old are you in the dream exactly?” It was a protection spell, Vivian told him the truth about it after he revealed his identity to her. Rather, she revealed that she knew he was Batman all along.

“I don’t know, but I must be young since I had to look up to see my mother’s face and the priest to — not a priest…” she focused her eyes at the sky where lightning flashed, trying to remember the dream or was it a memory. “I don’t think it was a priest… a shaman maybe? What matters was they made me lie down and they were doing some sort of prayer, and I could hear voices. There were so many, and the next thing I knew was on top of a building holding a baby and I woke up.”

Bruce’s eyes were now open. Though he’s married to a witch, magic is still something that he considers as the very last cause for reasons. Science and logic comes first, Vivian agrees and doesn’t consider magic until nothing adds up in the leads or the clues left behind. But sometimes there are times when he should consider it first, such as now. 

Especially when it involves dreaming about her mother. Madeline Pryor was a secretive woman, even her widowed husband agrees. Adam, despite his love for Madeline, admits that there are things that he still does not know about his late wife. And one of those was her death.

Sitting up in bed, Bruce looks at Vivian and asks, “Is there anything you need?”

“No,” Vivian got up. “I think I’ll just get something from the kitchen.”

“I’ll come with.”

“No, stay here and rest. You were sleeping like a baby earlier and I feel guilty waking you up.”

“Viv.”

“I’ll be back,” she kissed him on the cheek. “Anything you want?”

“You here, beside me,” Bruce answered without hesitation.

“After I get my snack.”

Smiling, Bruce said, “Fine, but make it quick.”

“I will, don’t worry!”

Coming down the kitchen, Vivian went to find Alfred’s biscuit jar, he tends to hide it in places so the children won’t sneak for one in the middle of the night. While doing so, she had the kettle on for the tea. She decided to have tea instead.

“Alfred, I love you, but seriously, where did you?” Vivian muttered as she got on her toes to look for the jar. “AHA!” 

It was at the top shelf behind the soy sauce and vinegar. The boys won’t even think it was there or would try to check that place since they had no idea how to use those for cooking anyway. 

Mission accomplished! She got the biscuit jar –

Vivian…

Vivian froze at the whispering voice, she looked around the empty kitchen. No one was there and the only sound heard was the kettle still heating up.

Must be the a dream –

VIVIAN!

Vivian yelped in shock and almost dropped the jar. There was a face – she was sure she saw a face of something at the corner of her eye, but when she turned there was nothing there. Shaken, Vivian went to the kettle to turn it off but –

“AH!” 

The kettle was hot – even the handle was burning hot. Vivian looked down at her hand and saw it red and raw. 

What’s happening? She wondered.

“Mom?” The sound of Damian’s voice made Vivian jump. He looked like he just woke up. “Is everything alright?”

“Hi, sweetheart, yes, just burned myself,” she opened the tap to cool her hand. Damian immediately ran to her side to check. “Damian, honey, I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he jumped off the stool and went to the fridge to get a bag of frozen peas. His gaze turned to the biscuit jar and then the kettle that was open with steam coming out of the nozzle. “Stay here, I’ll make your tea.”

“Sweetheart, there’s no need,” Vivian tried to stop him but with one look from him, Vivian settled on the seat and waited for Damian to finish making her tea. 

“A splash of milk and a cube of sugar,” Damian said as he made her usual mix. “How does it feel?”

“Feels a lot better now,” Vivian said. “Thank you. What brings you here?”

“I think we had the same idea. The lightning woke me and I thought of getting a midnight snack… is everything alright, Mom?”

Vivian smiled. They’ve come a long way from how they first met, from the tension and how he only calls her ‘Professor Pryor’, then he calls her ‘Vivian’. Until one day, after spending time with the Kents in Smallville, he suddenly asked her if he could call her ‘Mom’. His reasoning: “Todd never really had a mother growing up and he chose you to be his. While Drake and Grayson do the same they opted to call you by your name… but after a while, I’ve come to reflect that Talia Al Ghul may be my mother but I was forged by her to be a weapon, but with you I get to be Damian. Not an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Just Damian. If Todd gets to choose his mother, then maybe I can also choose who I can call ‘Mom’ as well.”

It wasn’t a direct question but Vivian could read through it and hugged him so tight that the boy almost turned blue. That was enough for him to know that he can call her ‘Mom’ just as Jason does.

But  Tim and Dick claim that Damian only does so because he wanted to spite Jason, knowing how close Jason was with her.

Taking his hand, Vivian said, “Everything’s fine, Damian. I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Or maybe you’d prefer Father’s company, I can call him down.”

“It’s fine. I’m heading up there anyway,” Vivian waved her hand and had the tea cup and the plate of biscuits floating. “What about you?”

“I was just going for this,” Damian took the jar with a smirk. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

The memory of the image at her peripheral vision had Vivian insist she walk him to his room before she goes to bed. As they walked through the halls of Wayne Manor, taking the flight of stairs and passing the many doors, Vivian bid goodnight to Damian and went back to her room where Bruce was half-asleep. But as soon as she closed the door, he sat up.

“Go to bed, Bruce,” she told him.

“I will when you’re here,” Bruce patted on the space beside him.

Vivian sighed and went to his side, the plate and teacup floating beside her. Reaching for the remote, Vivian opened the television in the room and turned to a documentary channel but when she saw her face on the television in one of the documentaries she did, she quickly changed it.

“No, we’re watching that!” Bruce took the remote from her.

“No, we’re not! Bruce!” Vivian laughed.

Bruce changed the channel back and hid the remote under the bed.

“No, please, spare me!” Vivian covered her face to not see herself on television. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so embarrassed, you look beautiful here, and you’re doing what you love.”

“I don’t recall talking to a camera, that's one of the things I wanted to do. All I wanted was to read and teach symbols and icons, and history and art!”

“You’re moving up in the world, Viv, can’t be helped,” Bruce teased as he took a biscuit from her plate. “Whenever that would air on the televisions in Wayne Tower breakrooms, I can’t help but feel the luckiest man alive to be married to that woman whose… is that awooden cock you’re holding there?”

Vivian peaked through the gaps of her fingers. “Yes. It’s Pan’s cock… and they would fashion it to lamps for brothels in Ancient Rome. Also, in ancient Rome, there’s this  religion and magic where a fascinum was the embodiment of the divine phallus.”

“That’s a lot of cocks, Viv. And some have wings.”

“It’s part of the job.”

“Well, I feel betrayed.”

Vivian laughed which made Bruce laugh as well and bring her to a kiss. Their night went on with sharing her cup of tea and finishing the biscuits until they fell asleep in each other’s arms with the television turning off on its own, and Vivian free from worry or fear like the one she felt earlier.

Because with Bruce she felt safe.

~*~

“Oh my god! Look!” 

Coming out of the campus with the rest of the staff and students, Vivian looked up and saw a woman standing atop of Gotham University’s Learning Hospital, and was holding something. Taking out her phone, Vivian called for 9-1-1 and told them what was happening at Gotham University.

“There’s a woman at GU Hospital roof, and I think she’s about to jump,” Vivian told the operator as she started running towards the building hoping to save the woman, no longer worried if they saw her use magic. “And I-I hear that she’s holding a baby –”

“Batman’s here!” Someone in the crowd called out.

Vivian stopped in her tracks at the mention of the vigilante. She didn’t see him swing to the roof but she did see his cape. When the operator asked what was happening, Vivian told them about the appearance of the vigilante. That would get them there quickly before this escalates. 

The woman looked like she was talking to Batman but still kept her place on the edge. Batman had to stand back, fearing she would jump. They talked for a while until –

She dropped the baby!

Vivian ran and held out her hand to the spot where the baby could be saved but Batman beat her to it, he came and swooped in to save the infant and returned to the roof just as the woman jumped.

“NO!” Vivian ran towards her, “tlah–” Vivian gasped as her voice disappeared, no it wasn’t her voice. She couldn’t breathe! Something was choking her! There was no air coming in, it’s as if something was stopping her to breathe or made her forget how it –

Screams came from the crowd. Looking ahead, Vivian let out a gasp of horror at the sight of the woman. She was too late. She wasn’t able to save her. And the woman was just a few feet ahead, so she could see the body so close.

“Vivian!” Justin Kirk ran to her side. “Come on, you don’t need to see this,” he was about to hide her from the sight of the corpse but Vivian pushed him away to see. 

“I couldn’t… I wasn’t able to…” Vivian muttered.

“Via, what could you have done? Even Batman wasn’t able to save her,” Kirk said. 

Then it hit her. “I can speak again – I can breathe…” she muttered to herself. 

“What?” Kirk asked, confused. “Come on, Via, the cops are coming any minute now – VIA!” 

She ignored his calls and ran up to the building of the hospital where staff gathered at the doors, looking in horror at the sight of the corpse. She ran past them, bolting up the stairs until she came face to face with Batman who was coming down from the roof, holding the baby.

“Batman,” she said.

Batman frowned. “I couldn’t save her,” though his voice was his usual stoic tone, Vivian could feel the pain he felt of failing that woman. 

“No, I failed… I didn’t save her… I choked on a spell and –” 

The baby started to cry again and Vivian reached out for the child, hoping to calm their cries. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry about your mother…” Vivian told the baby.

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Batman. “It was mine. I wasn’t able to get there sooner.”

“Bruce,” Vivian whispered as she touched his cheek, hoping to take some of the pain away, but she couldn't. “You can’t save everyone.”

“Neither can you.”

Vivian looked away and turned her attention to the baby.

As he watched Vivian try to ease the baby’s cries, Batman thought back to what the woman said while on the roof. The reason why she was there in the first place: “I’ve given birth to the devil.” She kept saying it over and over, and when the baby started to cry, that’s when she snapped and dropped the child from that roof.

Leading her down to the reception, Batman left Vivian and the baby in the care of the hospital staff as he went to look for the medical records of the woman who jumped. Something wasn’t adding up. 

~*~

It wasn’t just in Gotham that it happened. There were cases in Washington D.C. where a woman – a law abiding citizen – ran over people in the streets claiming to see monsters. Then in Metropolis where Superman encountered a father holding his family at gunpoint claiming that they were demons who ate his family, then he later showed that the neighbors were the same and have butchered them in his garage. All law abiding citizens and the phenomenon was happening around the world.

As Superman and Wonder Woman were stating their hypothesis, Batman couldn't help but speak up, “Are you talking about magic?”

“We have come up against magic before, Batman. Circe, Trigon, Felix Faust,” said Wonder Woman.

“Even Shazam's power is based on magic,” said Superman.

“And not to mention Mrs. Bats?” Hal pointed to his own ring finger to make a point. “For someone married to a witch, this really shouldn't be like a shock to you, you know. Can you really rule it out?”

Batman stood up, glaring at Hal and said to everyone, “Despite my relations with a magic-user, we don’t jump to the conclusion that it is magic that's causing the crimes in the streets. The criminally insane don't need magic as an excuse. I recommend spending more time in the streets instead of flying over them.”

He was firm in his statement as he left the Hall of Justice, but as he came home to Wayne Manor, to Vivian, he was starting to doubt what he said. He found her in their bedroom, staring out the window and drawing on the mist. When he called her the first time she didn't answer, so he came to tap her on the shoulder, this time she jumped and was shocked to see him there.

“Viv, is everything alright?” He asked her.

“I… not really,” she muttered. “I still can't sleep without seeing that woman's body.”

“What are you writing there?”

Vivian turned to the window, confused, “I don't know…” Coming near it she blew hot air on the window to see what she's written. They were in runes, ones that he wasn't familiar with.

“What does that mean?” 

“I don't…” Vivian broke down on the ground. “I don't know what is happening.”

“Vivian,” Bruce knelt before her in worry. “Tell me…”

“I feel more sensitive with them – maybe it's because Hallow's Eve is coming, I don't know. It just feels too much – and that woman,” Vivian rubbed her arms to keep away those who kept asking for her attention. The ones he couldn't see. Bruce wrapped her in his arms and held her tight. This wasn't the first time she felt sensitive during Halloween. But this time was different. This was worse than the last time.

“Why did I choke at that time?” Vivian whispered. “Why didn't I…”

“It wasn't your fault, my love,” Bruce kissed her head.

He held her tight that night and didn't let her go until she had calmed and reassured him that she was feeling a lot better. Taking the opportunity, Bruce changed out of the Batman uniform and he called Tim and Damian, who were on patrol that night. They asked about the meeting in the Hall of Justice, which he didn't say much or at all, but when they asked about Vivian he told them the truth. He reassured them that there was nothing to worry about as she was asleep now. Ending the call with the order to get back home, Bruce was about to finish his routine when one moment he was holding the razor, the next he found his wife's lipstick in his hand, all blunt, and on the mirror had the name Constantine written across.

He wrote that, but that wasn't his handwriting.

“Bruce!” Vivian called from the room.

Running to her side, Bruce stopped as they came to the sight of the large name Constantine written on the wall. 

“He got away before I could trap him,” Vivian told Bruce as he joined him in wonder. “Do you want me to come with you on this one?”

It would be helpful but with how she was now it was best if she stayed home with the boys and Alfred. “No need. I’ll head to see Zatanna and see how we can find Constantine. Unless you have his number.”

“He doesn't have a phone,” Vivian shrugged. “Never needed it. And last I remember he's now living in the House of Mysteries, and that's one tricky bugger to find. But,” she placed her thumb on his forehead and her palm on his chest. She whispered an incantation and for a moment Bruce saw a sigil appear on his chest and it disappeared. “A protection spell from bad spirits.”

“Thank you, Viv,” Bruce held her hands and kissed them.

“Just be safe… things aren't well right now outside. I can feel it.”

~*~

“Where’s Father?” Damian asked as he and Tim peeked in the master bedroom, both still in their Robin and Red Robin uniform. Vivian was sitting in bed grading some papers she thought of ticking out of her to do list. 

“League business,” Vivian answered and beckoned them to enter the room. Damian wasted no time and ran to her side while Tim settled on the seat near the bed. “How was the patrol?”

“Captured some Nazi-shitheads,” Tim shrugged. “I made sure the cops and all of Gotham know about it too.”

Vivian laughed and bumped fists with him. “Good one. And you?”

“Nothing too major, some muggers attacking an elderly couple,” Damian answered. “We also ran into Batwoman.”

“How’s Kate?”

“Same old, I guess,” said Tim. “How are you, Viv?”

“Father said you’ve been feeling more sensitive than usual,” Damian added.

Vivian sighed and shrugged. “Halloween’s coming, that’s why. The times where ghosts make it more annoying for people like me because they want to bugger anyone who can listen.” Not exactly a lie but she decided not to mention about the choking incident that day. It’s been bothering her but whenever she tried to tell Bruce about it, she would choke too. It’s as if someone wants to isolate what’s happening to her.

It was why she placed a protection spell on Bruce. If she can’t protect him with simple spells, then let her protect him with a shield. One that would keep the unwanted from him, she can’t promise the criminally insane or the living mages but he’s protected from those that lurk in the darkness.

“Did you two finish your homework before heading out?” Vivian asked them. Damian and Tim avoided her gaze. “Hmm. Alright, get your work and we can have a study session here.”

“I don’t need a study session,” Damian muttered.

“Fine, then Tim and I can have a study session. I’ll get us some snacks too.”

Damian turned to Tim and saw the amused look on his face. “Fine, I’ll join your study session,” he said and went to his room to change and get his school work.

Tim laughed as Damian marched away. “We’ll be back,” he told Vivian and gave her hand a squeeze. “Hey, Viv, I know we’re not Bruce but we won’t let anything happen to you.”

Vivian smiled. “My little detective, all grown up. But no matter how much you grow up it’s still my job to protect you. Besides, I doubt Red Robin has something that can defeat the dead.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Alone in the room again, Vivian felt the suffocating presence of the unknown. It seems to feed off whenever she was alone, preferring it as it kept her paranoid. Fine, they want to play these games, she’ll play. And she’ll figure out who was doing this.

~*~

Batman didn’t know how he was going to explain to Lucius Fox, Alfred, and Vivian about the Batmobile. His concern was mostly his wife, especially when he tells her that a magical tornado attacked them in the middle of the road and it got the car. Either she will discuss the costs of a new Batmobile (which wouldn't be a problem really) or the fact he should have brought her with him that night. Zatanna and Constantine joked about Vivian telling him off about the car when they entered the House of Mysteries, but that laughter ended when Bruce told Constantine all that's been happening around the world.

“And what does the Missus say about this?” Constantine asked Batman.

“Vivian hasn't been feeling so well for the past few days. Her magic is everywhere,” said Batman.

“Figures, she's had the same problem before. Halloween's coming after all,” John shrugged. “It's the time when witches like her are more sensitive. Ghosts are coming to bug anyone they know can listen. It's like being a shrink for the dead.”

“She was also there when the woman jumped,” Batman added. “She feels like it's her fault for not saving her – she said she choked on a spell.”

“Choked?”

“Poor, Viv,” Zatanna whispered. “Is she alright alone?”

“She's a big girl now, Zee. Nothing for you to worry about. I'm sure she can cope, she always does,” John shrugged. But choking on a spell? That was something that felt odd. He's seen Vivian freeze in fear but choking on a spell? That woman would cast spells all willy-nilly and worry about the consequences after. That was before she sealed her magic. Her real magic. And there were numerous times he had to deal with the times she let that consume her. “Now, about that case…”

With magic, John was able to see the incidents as they played out through the eyes of each member of the Justice League that witnessed them. There was dark magic in play here, that he knew, but he needed a closer look, not in the eyes of those who saw the incidents but through the eyes of someone who lived it. 

To do that he needed a tool. And he needed to visit someone who he’s had a falling out with since that night. Someone who was there to witness the true terrors of hell and paid the consequences of their actions.

“We'll need the Keshanti Key.”

“And where do we get that?” Batman asked

John sighed dramatically. “I could really use Vee on this one. She'd make things easier,” Constantine sighed. “She and Ritchie share the same resentment.”

“Ritchie?” Zatanna said. “Have you spoken to him since?”

Ritchie Simpon, Batman guessed. He's heard that name from one of Vivian's stories of her past when she dabbled with dark magic. He was there that night when Constantine was about to have the demon possess Vivian and kill it in her body. He still doesn't trust Constantine fully to leave Vivian with him. The man was the type of person who would do whatever means necessary to do the job and save himself. He would say he and John had similarities, but John had no morals to keep him from going down the road he's in now. 

Reckless was one word Batman would use to describe him.

Survivor was what Vivian said then. And to survive their world means doing things that are even too dark for Batman to ever consider. It was one of the reasons why Vivian left that life and made sure to lock it behind closed doors. She literally bound it with chains just so she can start again.

“I tried,” he turned away to avoid having to explain. “I'm actually surprised he's survived this long.”

“John!”

“Vivian is out of the question on this one,” Batman said. “She's not –”

“I know, the big fire bird isn't feeling so hot right now.”

Fire bird? Batman thought. That was new.

~*~

“You're working overtime today, everything alright?” Vivian asked as she watched the road through the window as Alfred drove them to work and school that day. Bruce has asked the man to do so after Vivian's breakdown before he left, and Alfred willingly handled any sort of insistence that she could drive on her own calmly.

Now, she was in the front passenger seat, with Damian and Tim at the back, both wearing the Gotham Academy uniforms, listening in to her call with Bruce.

Waynes. A bunch of nosy people.

“Everything's fine. We're currently tracking down Gabriel.”

“You gotta be specific with Gabriel, Bruce. Not really a unique name.”

“The one you were well acquainted with.”

Oh. That Gabriel.

“Former Archangel Gabriel.”

That had the two boys and Alfred look at her with an intrigued look.

“When were you going to tell me that you slept with him so you and John could have his divinity taken?” Bruce huffed.

Vivian looked at the rear view mirror and she was sure the boys heard. Their faces said it all.

“Never…”

“Vivian.”

“Alright, I'm sorry. Like I said, I was a really different person then. And Gabriel is kind of an asshold – no, he is an asshole. And John and I needed him for something, so we did that plan to get him off of God's good graces, and so John can…”

“Hack off his wings?”

“Yes… I am not sorry for putting that asshole in his place but I can see the line that I crossed then. But all in the past.”

“How many exes do I have to look out for, exactly?” Bruce sighed. “And focus on the non-human list, please.”

“A couple that shouldn’t be too concerning. Gabriel is probably the only concerning one but I hear he's running a club now… just like Papa Midnite.”

Batman sighed.

To ease the coming headache, Vivian told him, “Hey, it wasn't that good, if that's what you're worried about. The angel was a virgin.”

“VIVIAN!” Tim and Damian exclaimed.

“Not really my concern but glad to hear. Is everything alright in Gotham?”

“Aside from people preparing for Halloween… not much crime, which is surprising.”

“I've asked one of the Leaguers to patrol Gotham tonight in case I don't get back early. Halloween's one of those nights when they tend to go wild.”

“Well, this is Gotham, love. It won't be Gotham unless the criminally insane throws a party on Halloween. It's like they thrive in it. Hey, be careful with Gabriel. He might not have his divine powers now but he's still immortal and has magic.”

“I will. Constantine told me as much. What are you doing heading to Gabriel's club anyway?”

“He attacked Ritchie Simpson in his home.”

“Ritchie? He's still… how is he?” She was surprised when she heard Ritchie's name. She's never reached out to him nor to anyone in their little group before since that incident. With his demon-induced cancer, she thought he was gone a long time ago but here she was, hearing he's alive. 

“He's stable now. John left him in the House of Mysteries to rest. We're almost to Gabriel's club. I love you, Viv.”

Vivian smiled. “Love you, Bruce.”

She hung up the call and hid her phone. She glanced at Alfred's way and said, “We'll talk about it later with a pint.”

“I suppose we will. You seem to have more and more interesting stories, Mrs. Pryor.”

Vivian laughed and turned to the two boys in the back who were looking at her with gaping mouths.”Any questions about the…”

“NO!” Damian said.

Tim raised his hand. “Just out of curiosity. How did you — why did you do it though?”

“He was a complete asshole, but other than that we needed his access to some dimension. He won't give in, so we thought of tricking him to lose his divinity which was by unlocking god's chastity belt on him, and John hacking off his wings to use to control the bastard,” Vivian explained.

“What kind of cases did you take back then anyway?”

“The kind that would have Batman thrown me to Arkham. Good thing I'm married to him though.”

~*~

Battling Gabriel in his dimension took a lot longer than they hoped. After coming out of the dimension pocket that the former archangel created by literally punching out its walls and Batman punching the man's teeth out of his mouth, they were free and were in the shrouds of the night. 

“That punch felt a little personal,” John teased Batman.

“A little bit,” he admitted.

“Don’t blame you. She made it really convincing, the hacking of wings was a little personal for me too. Now,” John picked up Gabriel with his bloodied shirt. “Why come back, Gabriel?”

Gabriel smirked and spat out the blood from his mouth. “I thought," Why not? I did say I was going to settle a score without a lot one day.”

“Really? After almost thirty years? Why wait this long?” When Gabriel said nothing, he raised his hand and prepared a spell. “Hard way it is.”

Gabriel laughed. He laughed like a madman, it brought chills down Bruce's spine. “Doesn't matter now, Johnny. I'm just a distraction.”

“What?” John gasped as the angel was suddenly transforming to something different. Slowly morphing to another being. “Fuck!”

But before Gabriel’s face could disappear he said to Batman, “You're a long way from home.”

“Constantine, what's happening?!” Batman bellowed.

“We were played like fools, Bats. They got us running around their little game. They wanted us away from Gotham. You left Vivian alone. On Hallow's Eve.”

No!

“But why – what do they want?” Zatanna asked.

“To finish what they started years ago,” said John. “They want to bring Hell on Earth. And they found a way to get to their portal. I should have finished it when I had the chance –”

Batman grabbed Constantine by the collar of his shirt and pushed him against the pillar with a fist ready to punch. “I dare you to say it, Constantine.”

“Batman!” Zatanna tried to stop him but even Boston Brand couldn't get the Batman off the occultist.

“You think I wanted to do it?! You think she was just someone I could throw away that time? Believe it or not but I did care for her. But it was necessary, Bats,” Constantine sneered.

“Necessary?! Her death was necessary!?” Batman roared.

“YES! Vivian isn't normal in our standards. The moment she came back from that trip to hell, I knew there was something wrong. Haven't you wondered why only a portion of her magic is gone and all of it? It's because she sealed the very thing that's giving her power.”

“What are you talking about John?” Zatanna asked.

“Vivian's power surpasses all of us or any demon or angel or god – it's the very thing that created all of this. She has the power to create and destroy universes. And I couldn't let that walk around in the body of an uneducated witch.”

“So you planned to kill her…” Batman sneered. “And what?  Take the magic for yourself?”

“Me? No, I'm not mad enough to have that in me. The Firebird will be born into a new vessel – into a powerful psychic witch. That is the reason why they will never stop trying to get her. Because she can destroy and build her body over and over until hell has their army on this plain. She will give birth to thousands of demons.”

“But that doesn't give you the right to just kill her, John!” Zatanna exclaimed. 

“I know that now! Listen, we can argue about it now or we head back to Gotham and get Vee to the House where she can be safe – ”

“The House which you ordered to follow your friend's every demand?” Batman released him. “And the very friend who sent us in this goose chase.”

As realization struck the two magicians and the ghost, Batman reached for his comms and started to call for anyone online. There must be someone now who can pick up.

“Robin, come in!” Batman spoke through their comms. “Robin! I need a status report – where is Vivian?”

No answer.

“Batman!” It was Tim who answered.

“Red Robin, what's happening in Gotham?”

“It's all chaos, Batman. People are going a rampage, it's like they're seeing monsters,” Red Robin reported.

“It's begun,” said Constantine, having overheard the call. “It's just like back then – it starts with Dark Magic controlling the minds of those around the ritual.”

“Yeah, but how come it's not affecting us?” Tim asked, as he heard John's comment.

“Take a big guess, does your mommy kiss you on the forehead goodnight? Or maybe sing you a song?” 

Vivian. She would always come to the boys’ rooms to say goodnight, and when Dick and Jason moved out she would call them just to do the same. Then there was that song she and Alfred would always humm when in the kitchen. 

“A protection spell,” Tim summed up. “Of course.”

“Aye, Vivian has a talent for that. Where is she?”

“That's the problem…” Tim sounded defeated. “Batman, I'm so sorry…”

“Tim, what is it?” Batman spoke.

“We weren't able to… Vivian locked us in the church and we couldn't get out. Someone took her! Some man who's like a Two-Face knockoff and an old guy with a cane. We're so sorry, Bruce. We weren't able to protect her.”

No!

“Balthazar,” John sneered.

“And Ritchie,” Zatanna identified the other one. 

“Call everyone to Gotham, and try to get as many people as you can from the city. Do you understand?”

“We're kind of outnumbered here, Batman!” Kate spoke through the comms. “Even some of the Leaguers are having trouble –”

“GET THEM OUT OF THERE! I'll try to get there as quickly as I can,” he dropped from that channel and tried another. “Superman, do not let any of the Justice League enter Gotham! I repeat, no one in the Justice League should enter Gotham even by airspace! Do you understand? Superman!” No one was responding.

“This is bad,” John said. “By any chance you got your plane with you?” 

“It'll take too long to have the Batplane over, it'll be too late by then.”

“I'll do it!” Zatanna said and got out her wand.

“Zee, don't!” John tried to stop her, but Zatanna had already cast the spell and teleported them from Los Angeles to the chaotic streets of Gotham. In the air, mixed with the smoke from the fires, there was a prominent smell of sulfur.

[fan-of-chaos]

Written for @ft-platonicweek Day 5: prompt "Nobody hurts my friends!"/"Injury"!

Based on this art @pencilofawesomeness did for the same prompt!! I saw it and got really inspired by it, so I decided to do a little fic for it!! ~.~.~.~.~.~.~

tw: kidnapping, mentioned/referenced torture, very mild descriptions of blood. Summary:

It happened during their return from a standard mission. A simple, careless mistake on their part. Natsu was the one to pay for it.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~ Erza let out a sigh, a small smile appearing on her face. Natsu was having trouble with his motion sickness again and everyone laughed it off while helping him in any way they could. It was their routine at this point, making the travels as comfortable to Natsu as they could.

After full two hours of suffering in a train, Natsu finally managed to fall asleep and get a little rest from his illness. Lucy soon followed him, still a little tired from the use of many of her spirits in quick succession she had to do for their mission. Grey was sitting closest to the window and looking out, deep in his own thoughts.

Erza stretched out and lifted her hands behind her head. She was a little tired from all the fighting they did too. She yawned and closed her eyes. A quick nap seemed like good idea and she already could feel the pull of sleep tugging at her. Suddenly, without any warning, the train window shattered and three people in dark clocks invaded their cart with weapons in their hands. “This is for our leader!” screeched one of them, swinging his sword straight at Lucy, who woke up in the commotion but whos eyes were still muddled with sleep and confusion. Erza moved quickly, already moving while summoning her sword. She could see Gray already making something with his magic, focusing on a different enemy and moving In a way that would protect her back. She repelled the sword that almost took Lucy’s head off and positioned herself in between her and the attacker. She charged at him, ready to take him down, when the doors of the cart behind them got thrown off its hinges and more enemies walked in. People around them started screaming and panicking, trying to get as far away from the fight as they could. Erza cursed under her breath. Normally, she would have no problem with defeating mooks this weak but she could not risk hurting the innocent people around them by going all out. Even worse, they were in a closed, small space so she couldn’t use her larger armors or swords. She could hear Lucy summoning Loki behind her and taking out her whip, getting ready to battle.

Even worse, they were in a closed, small space so she couldn’t use her larger armors or swords. She could hear Lucy summoning Loki behind her and taking out her whip, getting ready to battle. Even worse, they were in a closed, small space so she couldn’t use her larger armors or swords. She could hear Lucy summoning Loki behind her and taking out her whip, getting ready to battle, already smacking somebody in the face with it. Erza could see that the tight space they were fighting in also impacted their enemies capabilities. It wasn’t long before ten of their members fallen to her friend’s attacks. Fairy Tail members were winning and everyone could see it.

“Dammit!” cursed who Erza assumed was a leader of the attacking group “Retreat! We got what we came for!!” he shouted and suddenly all the attacks stopped and the enemies took out some weird, purple lacrymas and were gone the next second, in a blink of an eye.

“What was all that about?” asked Gray, looking weirded out and confused at the unexpected retreat.

“Natsu is gone!” suddenly screamed Lucy, waving her hands around frantically at the armchair Natsu was previously sleeping on “They took him!!”

Erza could feel the chill making its way down her back, the helpless feeling of dread mixed with panic making her heart stop for a second. They took Natsu? Was it something they planned from the beginning and the rest was just distraction? She shook her head, her hands clenching into fists. It didn’t matter. She had to focus. Natsu was in danger. She couldn’t allow herself to panic. 

“Lucy, Gray, focus!” she barked out, snapping them out of their momentary panic “Did you notice any symbols on their clothes? Or maybe a guild mark?” Both of them shook their heads, Lucy looking at the verge of tears. 

“I saw something.” Said Loki suddenly, making them all flinch with how cold the tone of his voice was. He emerged out from behind Lucy, his teeth bared and his pupils almost gone with how narrowed they were “I think one of them had the Narrow Void guild mark on his neck.”

“Fuck.” Cursed Gray. They were all familiar with Narrow Void guild. Not even two months ago they were the ones who captured their leader during one of their missions. He was a horrible man, kidnapping and experimenting on helpless children. When they uncovered the depths of that man’s depravity, Natsu almost beat him to death. Luckily, after a month of observation in the hospital, most of the children were let out with clean bill of health. But some, the ones that were in captivity the longest, still had a long recovery road ahead of them. 

And now the guild of that awful man got their hands on Natsu. The thought alone dame Erza’s blood boil. If they even charm one hair on Natsu’s head…  She looked up at the faces of others and could see the wrath in their eyes. 

There would be hell to pay. 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It took them two long, horrible hours to locate the place they thought Narrow Void was keeping Natsu at. It took them another hour to get there. By that time all of them were on the edge of snapping from the worry and ready to annihilate a dark guild until nothing was left of it.

Erza didn’t think she ever saw Lucy looking this murderous, her face distorted in rage and worry. Loki haven’t left her side, his more inhuman features more visible than ever before. Grey had a blank look on his face and the only thing betraying his fury was the shroud of ice surrounding him. She didn’t think she was any better, her own eyes glinting with intent to harm and maim.

They didn’t waste any words when they got there. They immediately started attacking. Erza didn’t care about the terrified shouts of dark guild members as she send her swords to swat them away from her way. She didn’t care how they screamed for backup and attacked in groups. She reequipped into her strongest armor and charged ahead, uncaring of the damage she left in her wake. But soon, the dark guild members were surrounding them and Erza didn’t have time for that.

Natsu was already in their disgusting hands for too long. She wanted to get to him as soon as possible. It seemed that Gray and Lucy felt the same way, because soon, they started to make the way for her to break through the enemy line.

“Go ahead Erza!” shouted Gray while bashing a guy on the head with an ice hammer “We got this! Go find Natsu!”

Erza took a second to look at him and the way his ice attacks were more pointed and aimed to impale and main than usual. Then she looked at Lucy nodding at her and swinging her whip around with a feral look on her face. She glanced at Loki’s not quite human expression full of rage, his hands more of a clawed light blur than ever before.

She nodded, making her decision and rushing ahead to where they thought Natsu was being kept. She swatted away few more enemies who blocked her way, but soon enough she was on her way to the center of their base, where she could already feel Natsu’s magical energy. She ran as fast as he could, until she got to her destination. She kicked the door to the room with enough force to throw it at the wall behind it and entered the room with a shout.

“Natsu! Are you here?”

Her eyes roamed across the chamber, trying to locate her friend. Not even after a second, she could feel her blood freezing in her veins. Sitting in the corner of the room, with both his hands and legs restrained in magic suppression chains, was Natsu. He was covered in bruises and cuts, each one slowly oozing blood. His head was slumped down, his chin resting on his chest, his usually pink hair covered with deep crimson.

He wasn’t moving. “Natsu!” Erza shouted once again, this time alarmed. She ran across the room as fast as she could, holding her breath and fearing the worst. (There was so much blood around him.) But it seemed that her voice reached Natsu, who flinched a little and then raised his head with great difficulty. “Hi Erza.” said Natsu weakly, a small smile appearing on his face “You are late.” “Oh Natsu.” Erza whispered, her heart breaking and her eyes filling with unshead tears “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” “Not your fault.” Natsu huffed and gave her a side eye “No blaming yourself.” he muttered, which seemed to take the last of his strength away as he slumped back down against the wall. It was a push Erza needed to get it together. She quickly checked if he was still breathing and let out relieved sight what she saw his chest moving and that he just lost his consciousness again. She summoned one of her swords and shattered the cuffs around Natsu’s hands and ankles as gently as she could.

(She didn’t think, she didn’t want to think, about what the chains reminded her of. This was not the time for that. She could ponder her traumas later, when Natsu’s life was not in danger.)

Natsu let out a tiny, relieved moan after that, finally able to feel his magic again after many hours without it. Erza then gathered him in her arms, trying to jostle him as little as she could. She carefullyevensettled him on her back, deeming it the safest position for him in that situation. “Hang in there Natsu, we will get you some help soon.” she choked out, one stray tear making its way down her face as she started walking out of the room. She didn’t get far before a group of the members from the black guild blocked her path forward. “You are not going anywhere, Titania!” one of them shouted, brandishing his sword at her. Erza narrowed her eyes, her mouth twisting into an even deeper frown. She didn’t have time for this. She didn’t have time to fight, even if everything in her screamed to mutilate the people who hurt her friend. She wanted to murder them in the most painful ways possible. But. She had to get Natsu to help as quickly as she could. She took a deep breath and steeled her resolve. Natsu’s health was so much more important than venting her rage on those vermin. “Move.” Erza ordered, her voice filled with seething, ruthless rage “If you do, I will spare your lives.” “If you don’t…” Her whole body seemed to tense up, getting ready for carnage, teeth bared in a clear treat, eyes glinting with protective fury “I will make sure you will die in agony.” The people standing before her flinched away, instinctively putting more room between themselves and her, getting out of her way.

With that, she started walking away as quickly as she could while taking care as to not move Natsu around too much. He already lost too much blood. Nobody dared to stand on her path.

[softnoodlesdoodles]

Today it's officially one year since I got the covid infection that gave me long covid. I thought I'd have a lot of feelings about it, but I kinda don't. Maybe I'm also just really tired and sleepy today. It definitely feels like a year with how much it has become my new normal.

It's weird to think back to myself doing that little test. It was my first covid infection. I had just had the flu in December so I was annoyed that I was sick again. I remember hoping it wouldn't last too long. I had a concert in a couple of weeks and I didn't even think about the fact that I might miss that.

I did miss that, just like I missed a concert in July and a concert in September. My initial infection turned from something that felt like a bad flu into pneumonia. I remember 5 weeks in getting antibiotics for the supposed bacterial infection I had on top of covid, and being hopeful that this would finally get me back on my feet just like when I had pneumonia a couple of years ago. It did not. Some symptoms got better and others stayed. My fever didn't go away and my fatigue and breathlessness didn't either. I thought I just needed some more time and to build up my stamina. But week after week passed and all my attempts to exercise were rudely met with even more sickness. I got new symptoms, like dizziness, heart palpitations, sweating, random rashes, digestive issues and brain fog.

For a time I called what I had "middle covid". I was told that for some people it just takes a little longer to recover. Eventually I hit the 3 month mark, and I was told that most people who hit this mark recover within 6 months.

I started occupational therapy and physiotherapy. Both were a mixed bag of helpful and not helpful. My occupational therapist at times treated my condition more like a psychological problem and physiotherapy was often too intense for me.

I got sicker and sicker until I got to a point where I spent whole days in a dark room, unable to move, unable to listen to music, unable to talk to people and sometimes unable to eat. I barely made it to the bathroom a few steps away. These days were the scariest days. I felt like my body was falling apart more and more every day. Sometimes I worried that I was going to die if it kept going like this.

Luckily things slowly got a little better over the next couple of months. Now my flair up days are often less severe and I can spend my days quite well from the comfort of my bed. I sleep a lot. I have a lot of pain. I am tired all the time. But I occasionally get to go outside. I make my way downstairs to have dinner with my family once a day. I try to shower every week. I chat with my internet friends and find a lot of meaning in making art. I once again can listen to music and podcasts.

At this point in time I am grateful for stabilization and not getting worse. The idea of things getting better feels far away and impossible. Honestly, I don't like to think about the future. I don't like to think too much about what I can't do anymore. I try really hard to make my life meaningful, even though it has become small.

So that's a year of long covid. I guess I do have quite some feelings about it after all.

[pbandjesse]

I felt so bad at dinner I felt like I was outside of my body. It was crazy. Today was tough in general. And I am very very much hoping I can fall asleep easy and take up fixed.

I slept alright. I felt like I was made of cement and my body ached when I woke up. It was very very hard to get out of bed. Like my everything was very very heavy and sore and I was sad about it.

But the nausea was not bothering me as much. James would make our bed and give me hugs and kisses and send me off with snacks and food that we hoped would be bland enough to eat safely.

The drive to camp was fine. It was cool out and when I got to camp I would have to put on a hoodie to be comfortable.

I was annoyed that basically everything was damp. And I mean everything. Once I was set up and after I had breakfast I would sit in my car just to have a dry spot to chill for a bit.

I was starting to not feel good though. I went for a walk to the office to say good morning and used the bathroom down there. Chatted with some people. Tried to feel better. But it was tough.

I only had the one morning group. So I made the decision that I would go and lay down in our cabin during my two hour break. This was the only thing keeping me going this morning.

I was also really not looking forward to the project. It's frustrating how much it is draining me. Thankfully the kids do like it but I will for sure be shelving this project next year. It is just to labor intense for me.

The first group was nice though. They had been a bit late so their pieces weren't totally set by the time they were leaving me. Hopefully their councilor remembers to come back.

I would walk down to peeps and after packing most of my stuff into my steamer trunk I would lay down. It was good to be packed and I will be able to grab that after camp is over. My bedding bag smells a bit like mice though so I will probably bring a different bag to pack my blankets in. But for now I just wanted to sleep.

And I would. For about and hour and a half. And it was a really nice rest. With just soft rain sounds. The bed in there is soft but firm and I was wrapped in my blanket like a burrito. I was comfortable.

And it helped. Like for the rest of the day I didn't feel amazing. But I wasn't as exhausted. The rest was very very needed.

I would wander back to arts and crafts. I stopped at the office. I meant to grab my rain coat but it slipped my mind. And so I just walked in the drizzle. It was cold but nice.

The afternoon was still hard. My stomach just hurt. And I had to really put on an act that I was okay. I was for sure low energy. And would have to sit quietly a lot more then I would normally like.

But the kids were kind. A few wanted to tell me everything they remembered of me from last year and how they missed me and it was super sweet. Even gave me hugs. It made me feel a lot better emotionally. I feel very fragile right now, so that little kindness was so nice.

The stockade boys were last. And they made bears bracelets. I knitted. Chatted with Kamal about being an adult and buying a washer and dryer and the boys were like. Wow when I grow up I'm gonna have to buy everything I take for granted now. And it was a small profound moment. The sun came back out and kids were laughing and screaming and I was just so tired. But I was happy.

I went home pretty quickly. I left at 330 and stopped at the post office to get a box to ship the furby. I will pack that very soon. But it just did not happen tonight.

I started feeling very very sick in the car again. I texted James telling them my thoughts about dinner. And they promised to take me to five guys. So that kept me going.

I got home and would lay down right away. I shared a rice krispie with Sweetp. I tried to not fall apart.

But James would be home soon. And once they caught their breath and changed their shirt we would head out.

And while I was really enjoying being with James I was on the verge of throwing up. I was in my much pain and felt so bad. I was basically out side of my body at times. James was trying to comfort me but I was just so frustrated. I just want to be able to eat!! I tried breathing through it. But I was just. So upset.

I still wanted to stop at target to get me a new pillow. It's always hard to find the right pillow but I think I got a good one. Firm and don't make my head so low and hurt my neck. And it wasnt to expensive.

We also got fruit leather because I thought it would be good to have some fruit servings. The target brand is a little wetter then I like but the stretch island is so expensive. Even if I like it better. Maybe when we go to the organic market next I'll price compare.

We also got me calcium. Which has been recommended. I decided on the chewy ones. I hope they aren't gross.

We got home and I was able to eat a little more of my five guys dinner that we brought home. I watched TikToks and laid on the couch and James came and rubbed my shoulders. Sweetp was enjoying being outside and watching the rain. It was nice. I was tired but the pain had passed.

I took a shower and washed my hair and now I am very ready to lay down. I hope you all sleep well. And that tomorrow I feel a lot better. James has promised me blueberry pancakes. I hope I can eat them.

And don't worry. Tuesday is my doctor's appointment. We will get things solved and I will be okay.

I love you all. Sleep well everyone. Talk tomorrow.

[existential-dread-in-the-am]

For personal future reference

Signs of my stress burn out exhaustion brain fog thing starting again:

-vague feeling of poison/weird little ache everywhere

(kinda feel like you should take pain medication all the time but also not really?)

-irritated and/or emotionally numb

(look out for when the emo quotes on pinterest get too relatable. Also: the spooky art. If it makes you stare into the distance while experiencing some kind of unexplainable dark swirl of emotions (you know what I mean), something's going on and you need to remove the stress source or get on sick leave asap.)

-forgetting things

(abnormal frequency or forgetting important memorable stuff, or mid-task) (Shout out to all people with adhd or other stuff that affects focus or memory, you guys are strong.)

-gym routine falls apart

(no energy to maintain it. it's supposed to give extra energy. if that stops happening you need more resting time.)

-"when did I last eat an actual meal?"

(if it's more than a week and not because of work, be at least a little concerned. Two weeks is a reason regardless of reason.)

-can you read a book? Try.

(if you have no time that is a problem. You like reading and it's not THAT time consuming. You're either overworking yourself or too exhausted to function.)

-are you having fun?

(You should be having fun. you are a person who can make even mundane things fun with the power of thought if you are not actively taking psychological damage or recovering from it. It's automatic, the only time this does not happen is when something is preventing your brain from doing it.)

-spending all your time with people

(You are a solitary creature. The only time this changes and you start seeking out other people all the time is when you want a distraction from crushing stress and fear. All other times, solitude = rest and safety.)

-weird dreams

(All my dreams are weird, but nightmares several times a month? A week? Suddenly a lot of dreams out of nowhere? Suddenly no dreams at all? Assess the level of threatening feel in your dreams, if it's a constant theme something is causing it. Also: if you start waking up at night again or notice signs of crying in your sleep, that is a sign.

-randomly want to study 10 new scientific topics or hobbies but managing none

(Normal version: interested in 1 more than others and/or 3 favorites at most, can get started, then get bored. Abnormal version: brain looking for distractions and evidence of usefulness, picks a bunch of new interests, can't focus enough to get anything done about them despite interest)

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary290

7/5-6/24

friday - saturday

it is done!!!!!!!!!!!

i will probably do a proper post for it tomorrow, some time, like in the noon (not that it will get any people to listen really)

but here's the linxx!

and then here's the cover art!

#so funny (if you want to see what's going on, you should probably open it up in a separate tab and look at it zoomed in to see all the junk going on)

i'm glad i did the watermarks on the pics at the bottom there, it makes it kind of look uncomfortable, or like seedy i suppose, which helps a lot w/ what the cover is aiming for.

i think basically it's as good as i could have gotten it, the cover. i do like it, i feel like maybe i could do it better, if i planned it out more, maybe it looks like a mess to anyone else, it's kind of one intentionally but i mean, maybe in a bad way it's one too.

also, on bandcamp i wrote a big-ish thing about the album as it was made, here it is:

likely in progress since october of 2022, certainly in progress since november of 2022, finally complete in july 2024. these are songs about nothing especially. this album has seen: two apartments, one move, two jobs, a cockroach infestation, a mass shooting at the neighboring school of our last apartment, my girlfriend surviving the shooting because she was in a different building and he wanted to kill teachers because he did not get a job, the most traveling i've done in my life, myriad illnesses, various canker sores, working out through being sick, not recovering sooner because i had to work out because it would upset me to not complete the ritual as i normally do, the worst sore throat of my life, an ear infection, the starting of a public diary, the maintenance of a public diary, ants on the windowsill, ants in the flour, long standing friendships growing longer, shedding of irritability, regrowth of the irritability, self disgust of varying levels and varying causes, scrubbing the floor naked, bruising my knees at the melt banana show and bruising my knees doing kneeling squats and bruising my knees doing other things, the uneasy orbit of a sleep schedule (an asteroid almost, in capture, then, crashing), several remasterings, 2 computers, an apartment that's a single room, an apartment of multiple rooms cheaply constructed, inflation, grocery store packages changing graphic design, rotten fruit, eaten fruit, my girlfriend's mother loving then hating then loving us, rabbits in grass, rabbits on concrete, bird corpses and living birds and horses in a field for the rodeo and the bulls kept across from them moaning of a captivity under moonlight, the construction and completion of the las vegas sphere (orb of prosperity), numerous nightmares about being murdered, denver colorado, kyoto, tokyo, takeshita-dori street, all the green, a place where sad old gay men convened and sang karaoke remembering their youth in old mecha anime theme songs, a fashion magazine photographer speaking in english to me (stumbling in a beautiful way) "i hope to see you again one day", arizona and the asu campus, a strange fall fair where a woman told me to hold two pumpkins to my chest so it'd be like i had breasts (she seemed supportive), the strange trump-loving foodtruck that served elote that my gf liked, my most recent live performance with thomas since 2018, my girlfriend learning korean, completion of multiple books, falling in love with foucault as i did when i first read him in college, meeting people for the first time, meeting some for the second, sleeping on a bed in chicago, loving chicago, people staring at me in public, children staring at me, wondering if children hate me because at my root there is something wrong with me and everyone except me can tell, being published in various online journals, the coming first publication of my work in print, in a journal people hold in their hands of flesh, nothing special, everything special, stretches of relative silence, all the meaningless stuff, all the stuff i don't want to tell you because i like it too much. i already gave you too much, most likely. you will not have a sense of any of this as you listen to the record. i put it here, i don't know why. this album is 32 songs, 47-ish minutes long. you can click a button on a web site to listen to it, and you will hear it. 

credits

released July 5, 2024

Girlfriend - let me live, took me places, bought me food, let me cook, let me clean. m.b. ghul + clout jesus - voiceover/narration on track 1. please read his story here:

thomas / me and my kidney - let me use his microphone and audio interface to record extra vocals on panic! at the costco and au naturale. please listen to his music here:

georges bataille - wrote the sentence which i lifted for the album title (letter to kojeve where he begins talking about unemployed negativity) thomas hardy - wrote tess of the d'urbervilles which i quote on the final song. neighbors - let me scream and didn't ever complain or call the police. hospital terrorizer - i screamed and i wrote the songs and i made the cover and stuff.

but since i am on my blog i guess i can get into more detail about the record, and i also feel like anyone who reads this / has been reading this, you have actually seen what it's been like, the hostility of the little bit of writing i did for the album isn't really pointed back here, it's not necessarily a pose it's just like, i dunno, as a thing to make, there's so much time and effort, and most of that's invisible, that's not being said in a self pitying way, it's more about how that's the case for so much music, which makes it interesting, i think.

anyway, there's one song here called 'i didn't think before i started a diary' which isn't really about this diary, i wrote that song prior to even starting this, it's about something weird you can see w/ people who do have diaries on the internet, where some people like, years after they're done being updated, things like that, or even just posts / miniature diaristic stuff, of archiving all that, when really this is more about the practice/act than an archive to reach into history with. it was also inspired by a piece of poetry by a friend though i don't know if i could even find it. it's written from the perspective of someone wanting to archive a person, and i kept thinking about that from the other side. that's really the only song i have so much to say on i think, because the others are either a little more personal or a little more obvious, there's lots of political things, the song hell baby works off of a reference to hideshi hino's hell baby, the manga where a deformed baby is thrown into a dump and she is revived by flaming ghosts and wanders back to her family and then is shunned once again. it's really tragic.

anyway i know i said i'd have more pictures from yesterday to post but i've been busy all day with trying to get everything like ready enough, some songs feel a little odd still but that just seems like how they are, it's only 2 that feel a little odd and idk, if i really hate them eventually i will just remaster them and release them together or something but they sound good to me, i think i'm caught off guard by them because there's a newness about them, because i worked on one up to the last bit here, and another was the product of an error related to a crash where the .wav came out normal but the mp3 came out strange sounding i think, so i had to go back and re export. either way both sound good/cool just unexpected to me, and i am someone who had expectations that were precise about those songs, specific things about what frequencies were blasting when and how stuff sat, and then that's just new now.

tomorrow i have to make like... 3 posts inside the internet world, to make people maybe look at my album, and then it will be entirely/totally out of my hands, it will truly be over then, that's like the advertising period i get, lol, one day.

anyway i am super super tired right now, so i will sleep,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bvannn]

Weekly Update February 2, 2024

I think I’m mostly better. The medicine I take is once a week, and it’s supposed to last me all week. Last week it brought me through about Tuesday, this week I was good until Wednesday, hopefully next week it’ll last the full week. I’m doing fine today too because Fridays are when I administer it. I think I’ll be fine real soon. Unfortunately I am swamped with homework, but I can manage it pretty soon.

This week as far as art projects was mainly me messing with music. I found the trick to getting good electronic instruments, and that is a little free plugin called Krush. I don’t know why music software companies like mortal kombat so much that they spell everything like that, but the ones that do make nice stuff so I won’t judge. I also started fiddling with Melodies for some instrumental themes for OCs, Shaun and Romeo are first up for that, planning to make progress tonight. Cleaned up my other project files as well and found a nice bass and drum line I must’ve made while I was delirious on medicine after surgery bc I don’t remember making it but it sounds nice so I’ll keep it. I’m the process of cleaning up a Zelda medley, I’ll probably post the piano version of that alongside the full instrumental. Finally, another one that’s set for vocals even though I technically haven’t finished the first one. I’m impulsive. The first one is just missing vocals and lyrics really so once I’m in a good headspace I’ll try to lyric out both of these in one go and fiddle with vocaloid after I know what words I want.

I also finally started prodding at Vocaloid 5. I’m going with v5 over v4 because it has a more user friendly UI and I’m under the impression that the attack and release feature is unique to v5, although I may be wrong on that. I’m still not sure exactly which voicebanks I’ll want to use, obviously the Kagamines would be a good choice because having a male and female option packaged together is cool, but the Zolas are also a package deal and have a bit more variation amongst them. I’m not sure how well they do English though, since they’re not built for it. I mean I guess people won’t really care, people still seem to be big fans of the Vflower English songs even though she’s also not built for english *or the genre most of those songs are* and they eat them up anyway. The Zolas are also less marketable than the Kagamines or Vflower, though. Also I guess Miku is an option and probably an inevitability if I do start making vocaloid music but I don’t need to start with her, you know? Idk maybe I’ll keep working on song stuff and consider which vocal fits the best, maybe I’ll draw them a bit too, see how much demand there is.

I haven’t been doing any comic work because I’ve still been sick, plus now I’m waffling since I don’t have a big animation project anymore and I guess I could fill the void by making that project an animation, but I’m still unsure. It might be smart to do both, and at a minimum my thumbnailing out the comic makes sure that everything is paced correctly and the dialogue flows. Tonight I’m hoping to pick back up where I left of before I got sick: I had finished the first third of the first ‘episode’, and was moving on to act 2.

Today especially I’ve been bit by the TTRPG bug again and kinda want to write out and draw stuff for that, but normally I do my best conceptual writing while I’m delirious in bed after my sleep medicine is kicked in but before I fall asleep. I stayed up late last night alternating between chemistry homework and playing ghost trick so tonight should be a good night for writing. Maybe I’ll get more comic outline writing done too, who knows.

And finally I also just really need to get more drawings done. I posted those epithet challenge ones the other day, which people seem to like. And I really want to do a drawing of Lynne, I like her because she reminds me of an OC of mine, can’t say which one or why though because that’s a spoiler for both characters. I really need to do more art in general, so I threw together a wheel of small little doodles to do, but all that still relies on me having free time, which is a lot scarcer now that I’m working. Still, if I get back into the habit of chugging out those comic pages, I can probably do a little more.

I’m still not sure what to do tonight. I keep flipping back and forth over whether I want to do music or drawing, and end up with little in the way of posting. I did find out that I can post audio to tumblr easy now, so I’ll try to do that more often. Idk. I’m exhausted from today specifically, and this past week has been busy, but I’m hoping it’ll die down and I can do more this upcoming week.

[0rionz-belt]

just blocked someone who i regret ever meeting.

(dont reblog, dont interact, dont ask)

[inlovewithhisblueeyes]

Bright and Tiny Spark

Pairing: Dark!Clark Kent x little!Reader

Word Count: 981

Warnings: DDLG relationship, forced regression, inferred kidnapping and brainwashing

A/N: I was inspired by @overr-written and @mianorth 's winter soldier x little reader drabbles. I've been messing around with some dark Clark ideas for a while and they gave me a kick in the butt to start exploring that world. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

Kal-El had been working on his laptop before peering over at his little one sprawled out on the floor. She was enraptured by the world of colors she created on the page before her; her legs were gently kicking back and forth as she worked. Her trusted space pup stuffie, Twinkle, was propped up by the crayon box. All in all, it was a rather eventless Tuesday afternoon in their books.

This unusual calm and quiet unfortunately would not last much longer. A shrill ringing echoed throughout the room and his little one whined. Kal-El gave her a pointed look before answering. She made her way to the table where he sat, curious to see who dared disrupt their special time together. He was quick to stand up in order to keep her grabby hands away as Bruce droned on about where the fight was.

After promising that he’d be there shortly, Clark hung up to phone and his little one was nearly in tears at the news.

“But Daddy you can’t go,” she begged, clinging onto him with all her might.

He gently wiped away the stray tears that stained her cheeks.

“Oh, little star,” Kal-El cooed,” There are people that need-”

“I need you more!”

Clark chuckled softly at her,” Sweet girl. You’ll have Twinkle to keep you company while I’m gone.”

“If you go, then the light will be gone,” She sobbed and he carefully propped her up on his hip, rocking her slowly.

“You know why I call you little star hmmm? It’s because you are the light that guides me home,” He murmured into her hair.

It took a few moments for to her quiet down again. Clark gently tilted her chin to look her straight in the eye.

“How about we make a deal, little star? If you’re good while I’m gone, drink all your juice and watch your toons, I’ll read you whatever story--”

“Goodnight Moon!” his little girl chirped.

“Alright I’ll read you Goodnight Moon as many times as your little head can handle. Do we have a deal, little one?” he questioned.

“Yes, Daddy. We’ve gots a deal.”

“Good. Let’s get you all set up so daddy can go to work.”

He set her down and she ran over to grab Twinkle and her discarded art supplies. She quickly made her way to her special room, knowing the routine well. Kal-El grabbed some fruit salad in her princess bowl, a box of juice, and filled her butterfly sippy with water. When he entered her room, she was sitting on her daybed with Twinkle by her side.

The room was decorated with soft fabrics and pastel shades. It had a daybed for her to take her naps, a table with chairs for arts and crafts, and a princess tv with all her favorite movies and shows. In the corner was a rocking chair next to shelves that housed all her books and stuffed animals. He set her snack and drinks down on the table.

“What would you like to watch today, princess?”

“Octonauts pretty please!”

Clark set up the tv to play her show continuously before turning to face her. There were still remnants of tears in her eyes, but she seemed willing to be on her best behavior.

“Can I have a big hug before you go, Daddy?” she asked.

“Of course,”he replied as he swept her in his arms, giving her a tight squeeze.

“And kisses please?” she added and Clark covered her face in little smooches.

“Remember our promise and I’ll be back before you know it. I love you, little star,” Kal-El remarked as he set her back down next to Twinkle.

“Lub you too, Daddy,” his little one babbled.

He quickly made his way to the door before turning and blowing her one last kiss. She gave him a small wave before becoming entranced by the moving pictures on the tv. The Man of Steel closed the door and made sure the keypad was set so it could only be unlocked with his fingerprint. He then took off towards the fight.

The tv kept her occupied for a little while, but soon the anxiety of her daddy out there fighting bad guys and monsters became too much. She got up and switched off the tv before laying down on the bed. Luckily, her daddy had put glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling for her to count. She busied herself with seeing how many there were, yet was unable to make it past twenty before losing track and having to start over.

At some point during her counting, she ended up falling into a light sleep. She awoke to the sound of shuffling outside her door and scrambled to her feet to greet her daddy. The door was slowly peeled open to reveal him. However, he seemed different than he normally does after a big battle. Clark was propped up on the door frame, almost out of breath.

“Daddy! What happened?” his little one gasped, going to help him over to her daybed.

He sprawled himself onto the mattress with his legs slights hanging off. He was unable to answer her question between his coughs and gasps

“Daddy, I’ll take good care of you. Just like you do when I’m sick,” she promised.

She tucked Twinkle next to him and quickly ran to grab him bottled water from the fridge in the next room. She carefully lifted his head to help him drink a little before settling him back down. His little girl then went over to the rocking chair to grab the knitted blanket hanging off the back of it and Goodnight Moon.

She gently placed the blanket over him and sat down beside him. She opened up the book and began to read.

“In the great green room, there was a telephone and a red balloon and a…..”

[elfrixc]

i love kyu ― painting

some texts and writing underneath!

"who are you so busy texting?" changmin asked when you giggle again over your texts.

you looked up. he wasn't looking at you though, he was busy, drawing dark lines with a ruler in his sketchbook to create what you assumed was a border.

his glasses ran down to the end of the bridge of his nose as he leaned over his word. you were caught in a gaze for a while before you remembered what he had asked you.

the nature of the question seemed suspicious but you disregarded it for the moment.

he has never asked these types of questions. he was normally just so easygoing and...not suspicious?

"oh, just my friends. they said something funny."

"ah..how are you going with your sketches?"

you looked down at your sketchbook to see a blank page staring right back at you as if making fun of you.

he giggled, however.

"i thought we were spending time together doing this."

"oh...yeah, we certainly are!" you placed your phone face down and picked up a sharpened pencil to begin sketching your idea for the portrait you were soon going to paint.

you knew you were going to ace the assignment. you believed you were gifted with artistic abilities, it's always been your strong suit and a way of expression. like how some people write, sing, dance―you liked art, you loved it.

you watched the grey lines etch gently against the paper, mindlessly sketching something as you had no idea yet of what to do. you would soon feel a spark that would carry you to a new level of understanding. but for now, it was just littered lines all over the page.

"don't know what to do?" changmin asked.

he peered over at you, pushing his glasses up as he flicked his pencil between his thumb and index finger. you've noticed that he always preferred to stand up when sketching a first draft. he told you that it kinda helps him. you didn't get it, but went with it.

"it'll come to me."

"it always does." he solidifies with a soft smile.

the eye contact you held was seconds long. however, those seconds lasted an eternity and the twinkles from the light fixtures above expressed the glitter in his eyes.

something pushed you over the edge.

"what did you think when you read my letter?" you asked right away, not expecting the words to fall out.

but the curiosity was killing you. you just had to know.

after the distance you had to endure from your first love with all those overpowering feelings which had to be coveted to avoid any mishaps, you wanted to at least know what he felt when he finally read between the lines.

"i―"

a girl stumbled into the classroom.

"changmin! i am so sorry! i forgot to return your..."

she slowly looked over at you and you felt your dignity being crushed by the pure embarrassment. you'll never know now because you'll never find the confidence to ask him again.

your eyes widen as the girl hands over a neatly folded hoodie.

your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach.

you couldn't believe it.

"thanks, sumin."

"i gotta get back to class. i gotta metaphysics assignment to write." sumin said and she smiled at you slightly before running out of the class.

"it was raining the other day. she had my locker code and needed something to shelter her and i wasn't in school grounds―"

your phone started ringing on the table unexpectedly, making you almost want to cuss out of frustration.

you picked it up, seeing a caller id you were not expecting at the time.

"i kinda need to pick this up...sorry, changmin."

you ignored his worried eyes as you picked up the call.

"hyunjae! where have you been?! we've been worried sick."

"do you want me to spare you the details?!" he yelled through the phone.

"yes please. but, are you safe?"

"HAHAH…that depends. sooo, um...i've somehow ended up on jeju island after accidentally sleeping on the bus. which i found out was the wrong bus, so yeah. please send help..."

you stood there, speechless. "how even? you didn't even think to call us?"

"i DON'T KNOW, I THOUGHT YOU GUYS WOULD BE MAD. PLEASE TRANSFER ME MONEY. I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TO GET BACK HOME."

"you bet i'm mad! just wait a second." you yelled, feeling your heart race.

lee jaehyun was a big problem on your ass if you were being serious. always on something crazy.

you expected eric to be the one who was hard to deal with when you first moved schools. oh, but when you met hyunjae, it was a whole different story.

"get your ass on the groupchat."

you hung up on him and a distressed changmin was gawking at you.

"sorry. i need to attend this. i'll see you another time."

you began packing up, knowing you had to go see find younghoon. he didn't seem like the most mature person on the earth but he was the oldest, there had to be some inner wisdom that was peeking from underneath his inner child.

"y/n..." changmin began quietly when you were shoving everything in your bag.

you knew he wanted to say something about sumin and it was tugging a smile on your face. but you stopped it. hyunjae was stranded.

"yes?"

"nothing. you should go. i'll talk to you another time."

"thanks, changmin." you bid him.

previous | masterlist | next

i love kyu! ― ji changmin x fem!reader

summary: changmin (your ex crush) and you have lost contact since high school after you moved a town over. you meet again at university and you realise that those feelings you felt once are still there. now, you have to find a way for him to reciprocate your feelings.

[dokoni-mo]

She Truly Was || Muzan Kibustsuji x F!Reader

Summary: Enmu helps Muzan remember you.

SFW // Fluff with small amounts of Angst

Word Count: 4626

WARNINGS: *slight Mugen Train spoilers*, slight mentions of implied sexual activity, obsessive(?) behavior, Muzan is soft for one person only, some angst, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, I also barely proofread this lol

A/N: I've had this in my head for a while and decided to write it down. This is largely just a compilation of scenarios I made in my head to fall asleep at night when I was stressing over exams and stuff, all loosely thrown together with a plot. This is my first time writing for demon slayer, so please be patient! I also am basing a lot of my info about the characters on s1 of the anime, some of the manga, and the wiki. I apologize if something isn't accurate. tldr; I just think he's neat.

~~

Despite having lived through thousands of years with hundreds of stormy nights in the midst, Muzan Kibutsuji never learned to appreciate them.

Something about nights like those in Japan just never sat right with the demon. It wasn't that they were too dreary, not at all. Life as a demon was plenty dreary. On the other hand, it wasn't that they were to lively either. No one ever went out on stormy nights; demon or not. Perhaps it was just because the rain was another reminder of the singularity that was being a demon. The poignant pitter patter just seemed to have a way of whispering to whoever heard it, telling them the most unpleasant yet quiet truths of their lives.

After Muzan's bloody meeting with the lower moons, he had told Enmu his task Muzan had planned for the pitiful, weaker demon. Although he had doubts that Enmu could hear him over the sound of the weaker demon's screams of pain from the blood he gave, Muzan was pleasantly surprised when Enmu understood the orders the first time around. Seeing as though it would cause trouble if the lower moon started to go around bragging about his newfound power and job, Muzan decided it would be best to keep a crimson eye on the demon.

This is what led to the scene before Muzan now.

Muzan had taken Enmu back to one of his many properties scattered across Japan, this one being tucked away in a lush, quiet forest in the middle of seemingly nowhere. The lower moon had not said a word throughout the entire journey there, and still refused to say anything now. Most likely out of fear.

Although it had been a long day of wrangling the lesser worms he called pawns (or "moons" if he was generous), Muzan did not want to show any weakness towards Enmu by resting. To busy himself, Muzan decided to do the tedious work the humans have him do in the job he took to please his human wife.

That insufferable woman.

With his bowler hat placed on his desk, Muzan had taken a seat in his large, leather chair, ordering Enmu to stand at the edge of the desk and face the opposite way. And, for extra edge, he was not to say or do anything.

It had been about two hours since then. The room was filled with only the sounds of Muzan's writing and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Although he ordered it to be that way, Muzan was already sick of it.

Peering his red eyes up from the papers scrawled below him, Muzan fixated his bone-chilling gaze upon the back of Enmu's head. Muzan could see the corners of the lower moon's mouth turned upwards as he faced the wall, presenting himself with an expression of dumb content.

Freak.

Enmu was definately a curious specimen. So eager to die, yet so eager to please Muzan. The demon lord would have been confused if he were not who he was.

Perhaps it was his own boredom setting in, perhaps it was because he wanted to feed his already gargantuan ego, or perhaps it was just because he was tired, Muzan decided to speak up.

"Tell me," Muzan said, his deep, smooth voice making Enmu perk up slightly, "Why is it that are you so loyal to me?"

Enmu took this as an opportunity to finally move, but not without some caution. The lower demon only turned his neck towards Muzan, along with a tilt of his shoulder. Muzan noted the disobedience of orders, but decided to let it slide this time.

The rain must have told him to be generous that night.

"Why, Master Kibustsuji," Enmu said, a faint blush adorning his cheeks, "It is because I am so delighted to be in your presence, and have my power be of service to you."

The demon lord felt his jaw clench at this, his red eyes peering up at the lower moon from under his abyssal lashes. Although Enmu had an... odd, way of putting things, Muzan always did like it when someone stroked his ego, even if all they ever said was the same banter over and over again. He was nearly perfection, afterall.

Muzan sat quietly and pondered Enmu's response for a second, before formulating his own.

"Your power, as you put it," Muzan said, his voice firm, "What is it?"

Enmu's grin widened, "Dream Manipulation, Master. I can enter, manipulate, or control anyone's dreams however I want to. I can use it to kill from the inside, eating a person spirit first and body second. I can also put people to sleep."

Muzan wasn't necessarily impressed by this, but he wasn't disappointed either. An ordinary power, really. Nothing that could ever rival his own.

However...

Muzan's gaze flickered down to the surface of his desk. A flicker of a long lost yet not forgotten feeling bubbled deep inside of his being. A mere spark of light, really, a piece of warmth he felt from long ago, lost to the wayside by the vestiges of time.

It was something Muzan thought he would never experience again.

Dream manipulation, huh?

It might be worth a try.

Muzan looked back up to Enmu, sharpening his gaze, "Tell me, are you able to give... pleasant dreams?"

Enmu was surprised to hear this come from Muzan to say the absolute least. He took this as another opportunity to disobey orders and turn to Muzan again, this time fully and whole-heartedly. The lower moon looked right into those blood red eyes, looking for any sign of a rare flicker of humor or joking.

Muzan's gaze was serious, poised as ever.

Muzan was being for real.

Taking a pause to swallow, Enmu allowed his soft smirk to return to his gray, pale face.

"Why," the lower moon retorted, "I can, Master, yes."

Muzan eyed the lesser demon for a good second at his response.

This move was risky. It could damage his image. Yet, if he was to do this with any of his pawns, he would do it with Enmu. Enmu seemed to have no intent on harming Muzan or his image in any way; he was far too loyal for that.

Besides, if someone were to question the might of Muzan, he could just prove them wrong.

Muzan leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and lacing his fingers together, wrapping them around his knee. His icy gaze still on Enmu, he spoke again.

"I wish to see a pleasant dream."

Muzan nearly rolled his eyes when he saw just how wide Enmu's grin had gotten and just how flushed his face got.

It was repulsive.

But, if it meant what Muzan thought it would mean...

It was worth stomaching.

After a breif moment used to compose himself, Enmu's smile faded to normal again. He pulled up the sleeves to his coat.

"I will give you a dream where you will experience the happiest days of your life over again, Master Kibutsuji," the lower moon stated, "Is this to your liking or would you prefer something else?"

"No," Muzan stated flatly, "That is fine."

Perfect, even.

Enmu smiled widely one last time, holding out his arm and pointing it at the demon lord.

"Sweet dreams, my lord." Was the last thing Muzan heard before falling into a deep, deep sleep.

~~

"Muzan..."

Despite his blood demon art being so much weaker than his, Muzan wasn't quite ready for just how Enmu put him into a dream like that. Muzan's headache had grown ten-fold now, and he could feel that his face was scrunched.

"Muzan..."

Slowly but surely regaining his full consciousness, Muzan could first feel that he was in different clothes than what he had been wearing before. These ones were lighter, softer, and much more airy than his normal suit. Squinting open his crimson eyes, he saw that he was in what appeared to be a long, dark, flowing kimono.

The second thing Muzan could feel was that it was rather cool where he was, and that he appeared to be lying on the ground. Sifting his weight slowly, he could then feel that his head was lain upon what felt like two soft, plush pillows firmly squished together.

The third thing, however, took him a little longer to discern quite that it was. At first, he thought it was a pair of chopsticks running across his scalp over and over again. Upon, further thought, however, Muzan was further snapped back into awareness.

Those were not chopsticks.

Those were fingers.

All too familiar fingers.

"Muzan..!"

Muzan felt a stir deep down inside of him. He recognized this feeling, this touch, this warmth. It had been so, so long since he had felt like this. How long was it again? It had to be an eternity ago. An eternity wrapped within all time time in the world.

Muzan was speechless. Muzan couldn't move. Muzan was struck from deep within, and nothing in the world could ever compare to its blow.

"Muzan!"

Although the calling of the demon's lord name had been going on for some time now, he was just now able to respond.

Tilting his chin upwards towards the voice's source, Muzan nearly fell to bits right then and there. If he was someone else, he would have wept deep, earnest tears at the very sight of the being above him. For everything and nothing surrounded him as he studied the bright, radiant face above him, and nothing else seemed to exist other than that smile.

Other than her.

Her.

Oh, her, her, her.

His beloved. His sun, moon and stars. The ground beneath his feet and the air around him. His joy and love, his woes and sorrow. His fears and excitement. His warmth and his cold.

You.

You were really here.

"I was wondering if you were ever gonna wake up," you said, a faint laugh behind your voice, "You were out for so long!"

This scene was all too familiar to Muzan. He had replayed it in his head countless times, as if it were the only record left in the world.

He knew what this day was, and he knew all of your lines.

How could he ever forget?

Every moment he had ever spent with you had been a blessing.

Right now, his head was cradled in your lap, your soft, delicate fingers combing through his hair oh so gently as he had slept. It was deep into the night, and ordinarily Muzan would not be sleeping at this time. However, your touch was just so relaxing to him.

Everything about you was.

Today, you and him had spent the night wandering through the garden of your home together, chatting about anything and everything. It was only about two months into your relationship with Muzan. Muzan had first come to your home with the intention of eating everyone within the residence, but once he saw your face, watched you, saw your heart, your spirit, your you, he just couldn't.

He just...

couldn't.

You were human, yes.

But Muzan didn't care.

He was in love with you.

Muzan had yet to tell you the truth about him, however.

But that could come later.

"Muzan, are you alright?" He heard your voice echo again, snapping him out of his trance. He saw your face painted with worry, making his own features soften.

His darling angel. If only you knew just how much it pained him to see you with anything other than a smile.

Muzan reached his hand upwards, steadily maneuvering his fingers to brush your hair behind your ear and cup your warm cheek. He was shocked at how real you felt, shocked at just how similar it felt to all those years ago.

Perhaps Muzan had to give Enmu a reward.

The demon lord caressed your cheek gingerly with his cold, calloused thumb, savoring in just how warm your flesh was compared to his. For the first time in what felt like eons, Muzan felt a smile adorn his handsome features. Not one put on just to appease the humans around him, but genuine. The type of smile only you got to see.

Only you.

"I'm more than alright, my darling." He responded, his voice soft and warm, without the normal venom he gives to his subordinates. A voice reserved restrictively for you.

Finally, you let a soft grin come over your heavenly face again, making all seven of Muzan's hearts swell.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up," you said, "But it's about to be dawn soon. I don't want you to get a burn, so let's go in the house again, okay?"

Ah yes, the lie Muzan told you. He, of course, couldn't be with you in the sunlight (as much as he wanted to). So he had told you that he had a rare disorder that made him extra prone to sunburns and heatstroke.

Just something to keep you safe from the truth.

His soft smile still adorning his features, Muzan gave you a nod as he slid his head off of your lap. Since you were on your knees, you were quicker to stand than him. Brushing off your kimono quickly, you offered one of your hands to Muzan to help him stand, of which he gladly took. He had long since forgotted just how perfectly your hand fit into his, along with how radiant your kimono made you look.

Once he was back on his feet, Muzan couldn't help but to hold your arms, holding you a few feet away from him to simply admire you for a moment, his crimson eyes doing laps around your face and body.

You were perfect to him.

Every single thing about you was without flaw in his eyes. Not one curve of your body was too shallow or too wide. Not one strand of your hair was misplaced or without poise. Not one feature on your face took away from your radiant beauty. And you had not one bad bone inside of your body.

Muzan was never one to believe in angels.

However, if anyone in any part of the world were to tell him that you were one of them, straight from the heavens themselves,

He would believe them.

~~

As soon as Muzan stepped through the door, his hand in your own, the scene before him changed in one giant, peaceful flash of white light.

Before him now was no longer the house that he had shared with you all those years ago. Now, in its place, was a beautiful, lush springtime garden, all dredged under the cover of the night. It was not devoid of light, however. There were a few lanterns afloat in the water of the stream, as well as some within the structure of the small bridge that went over top of it. Flowers adorned every nook and cranny of the space, and the occasional insect or bird would make a brief appearance.

A small slice of paradise, just for you and Muzan Kibutsuji.

Fearing that you were no longer by his side, Muzan turned his head. His fears were quickly subsided when he saw you there next to him. Your delicate hands were placed on the railing of the bridge, and your eyes were fixated on the calm water below, almost as if it were a window into the heavens above. There was a small smile plastered on your face, and the delicate lights illuminated each of your features so perfectly.

Muzan knew this night.

This was the night he told you the truth.

The truth about him, about his "condition", about where he went for days on end, about why he couldn't walk with you in the sun, about everything.

This was the one night Muzan had ever felt fear.

"Is it really true, Muzan?" You asked, your gaze still fixated on the water below, "Are you really a demon?"

Muzan felt his lips part in small surprise. Even though he had replayed this night time and time again in his mind, it felt as if this were all happening for the first time over again.

Enmu really was good at this.

Muzan wet his lips before responding, setting his gaze on your precious, beautiful face and refusing to move it, "Yes, my love. It is true. I would not lie to you about this, I..."

A pause to collect this thoughts, before he could continue, "I kept it from you to protect you, (Y/N). I did not want any harm to come to you. My darling, I... I love you. My love for you knows no bounds. You are the stars that shine at night, and you are the shining moon above. Each time I look upon you, all I can stand to think of is how deep my love for you runs. I... I need you, (Y/N). I do not wish for you to be frightened of me, my angel. I would never, not ever harm you, nor let any harm come to you."

You still weren't looking at Muzan, yet your smile had yet to falter. Muzan felt a bubble of nervousness in his gut. Although he knew your response to his words already, even thinking of this moment never failed to make his stomach churn. He hoped his words to you were enough. He doubted that he had ever said anything more truthful in his entire life.

After a long pause of silence between the two of you, you closed your eyes and widened your smile. Then, you opened your eyes again, finally turning to face your lover. You looked Muzan right in the eyes, seemingly unfazed that you were standing so dangerously close to the most powerful being alive.

You were so brave.

Your heart was so big.

Muzan felt so overwhelmed.

"Muzan," you said, your cheeks dusting a light pink.

What you said next to him, Muzan could never get out of his head, never forget. No matter how much he tried, he would never not ever forget your words in that moment.

Within that one short, simple phrase, the king of demons fell in love all over again.

"I've always known."

~~

Another flash within his crimson eyes, and the scene had changed again. Nighttime again, of course, but this time within the confines of the bedroom you and Muzan shared. Both you and Muzan were nude, sans the blanket that covered the lower half of your forms. Muzan was on his back, one strong arm wrapped around you, the other cradling the back of his head. Your legs were intertwined with his, and your hair and hands were sprawled out on top of his lean, muscular chest.

Muzan knew this night as well.

It was his most loved night with you, but also his most dreaded.

How cruel fate was.

Stroking your back with the tips of his fingers, Muzan stared up at the ceiling above the two of you. Your body was flush against his, and as warm as ever. He wondered to himself if he was making you cold. If he was, you didn't seem to mind.

After a long period of savoring the silence between you and him, you softly snorted out a cute, soft giggle. This made Muzan angle his chin downward to look at the top of your head.

"What is it?" He questioned.

You giggled again, tilting your head up to look at him. Smiling, you turned your body to lay on top of the demon king, your breasts smushing against his own. Instinctively, Muzan laid his hands on your hips, rubbing small circles into them as he held you in place.

"I just find it funny that even though you profess to have so much stamina, you get tired after only two rounds." You explained to him, a playful mischievousness in your tone and eyes.

Muzan breathed out a smile, reaching up a clawed hand to brush your hair out of your face.

"As I recall it, you were the one complaining it was too much." He quipped back.

You snorted, "As if that ever stopped you before."

The demon let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward to give you a kiss on the forehead. Muzan couldn't remember ever laughing so genuinely before you came along. You truly were the light of his life. You filled his days with the sunlight he had long since forgotten, as well with the warmth no other demon could ever have.

He loved you.

He loved you he loved you he loved you.

And he still did.

He watched as you dropped your gaze to his chest, running your fingers along the flesh.

"Muzan..." you said, your voice more serious than before, "I've been thinking a lot lately..."

The demon king hummed, brushing more hair from your face.

"What has been on your mind, my love?" He asked.

You paused for a second before continuing on. Muzan could practically see the gears turning in your head.

"Well, I... I'm not getting any younger, you know, and I've been thinking. I... I really love you, Muzan. You're the only person I can imagine myself being with for the rest of my life. The other day, I was in town, and I saw the cutest family ever with a husband and a wife and two adorable little children, and it made me think..."

You looked up at him again, giving him a soft smile.

"What if we were to have a family of our own?"

Muzan could feel the same sense of joy, love, and pride in his chest as he did this same moment all those years ago. In this moment, he had never felt closer to you before, nor could you recall ever looking more beautiful.

He wanted nothing more than to be a family with you for the rest of eternity.

"Darling, you know what that would mean, correct?" He questioned you. He had told you long before that demons could only have offspring with other demons, for a demon baby would eat its human mother from the inside and kill her. It was gruesome, and had originally made you cringe at the thought. Muzan had thought your reaction was quite cute.

"Yes, yes, I know," you answered, "and I'd be ready for it. Even if I'm a demon, and even if I can never go out in the sun again or live normally ever again, I'd be happy knowing I got to be with you and our baby for the rest of time."

Muzan gave you a smile in return, his long, white fangs flashing in the light of the night. Leaning forward, he kissed you upon your soft, warms lips, gently pulling you closer to him.

This was one of the thousands of reasons why he loved you.

You were always so sweet, so kind and optimistic. He would admit, he did have a soft spot for you and you alone. But he didn't care. You were worth it. You were worth every single piece of money on planet earth. You were worth the sun the moon and the stars, and all the planets here and beyond. You were worth any injury, any heartache, and any trial or tribulation in the world.

The king of the demons unquestionably, unfathomably, undeniably, adored you.

Pulling gently away from the kiss, Muzan looked deep into your eyes, right past your pupils and looked right into your soul, your very being.

"I would want nothing more, my sunlight."

If Muzan could turn back the hands of time, he would have kept you here with him for the rest of everything and beyond.

For he did not know then that was the last kiss you and him would share.

~~

Another flash, and Muzan was no longer greeted with a visage of the past. Much to his dismay, the demon was now greeted with the sight of his office, with a smiling Enmu creepily watching him from across his desk.

What a fucking freakshow.

Taking in a breath of air through his nose, Muzan sat up tall in his chair again, rubbing the bridge of his nose with this thumb and pointer finger.

You were gone again. You were again nothing up a memory, a whisper of a time from the past.

Muzan could hardly bare it.

He had felt you, held you near him.

And just as fast as you came back, you were gone again.

This was a pain almost too hard to bear.

How long was he asleep for? Muzan really didn't care how long it was.

No amount of time with you was enough.

"Did you have the pleasant dream you wished for, Master?" Enmu asked the demon king. The lesser moon was lucky Muzan was in a somewhat good mood that day.

"Yes." Muzan replied simply, closing his eyes to rub them with his thumb, "Excellent work."

Enmu's smile widened at this, his cheeks turning pink again.

"Why, thank you, Master." He responded, his excitement prevalent in his voice.

Enmu really was a special one.

After composing himself again, Muzan scooted his chair forward up to his desk, fixing his gaze back onto his work sprawled out below.

Muzan just wanted to be alone again after that. He had been alone for years now, but he wanted Enmu out of the room. Although he could have easily ordered it to be so, he again did not want to show any weakness to the lower moon.

Christ on a bike. Muzan was so fucking stubborn.

He remembered all the times you nagged him for it.

Oh, what he would give to have you nag him one last time.

After a long bout of silence, the lesser demon decided to speak up again. He turned his head over his shoulder again to Muzan, trying to sound as naieve and innocent as possible.

"Master," Enmu said, "Where is she now?"

Muzan stopped his movements and glared up at Enmu with a venomous glare. How dare he even refer to you. You were so far above him, how dare Enmu even think to invoke your name.

Though Muzan wanted to kill the other demon right on the spot, he decided against it. He still wanted to see how Enmu would do on his mission. Also, Muzan had to admit that he did feel lighter and more generous after his dream with you. And he supposed it was fair that Enmu had his questions.

Feeling nice, Muzan decided to entertain Enmu's question.

Shifting his gaze back to the papers below, Muzan replied.

"Gone." he said, "The night she asked about a family was the last night I saw her alive. The next day, a group of slayers found her and our house. They knew who she was and that she was human, but killed her anyway. All in attempt to get to me. I found her in a pool of her own blood, limp and cold. The slayers died that same night."

Enmu's smile faded at this, his face taking on a look of shock. Closing his lips into a tight line, Enmu looked away, out of a quiet unconscious respect. Everything made so much more sense to Enmu now. Why the demon king was the way he was, his hatred for slayers, his cold-hearted, murderous nature.

It all clicked into place.

"I... I am sorry for your loss, Master." He said, his voice quieter than normal, "She seemed like a lovely woman."

Muzan peered up at the back of Enmu's head. Through his thick, black lashes.

"Yes..." Muzan said.

"She truly was."

[pbandjesse]

Today wasn't a bad day. I am not feeling incredible but I think I just need to sleep.

I got home last night and James was sitting at their desk. I was happy to see them. We sat in the kitchen for a bit talking. I told them all about the scary things and what I liked and what I thought could have been better. I was in a good mood. I just wanted to hold them so when we were in bed that's just what I did. Even if they fell asleep to fast. I would eventually fall asleep and things were good.

I decided to only take my small vitamins last night and wait until the morning to take the big ones. Ane I'm glad I did. My stomach still hurts last night but it wasn't as bad as it has been and I was a me to sleep.

But in the morning I was a little startled awake and I didn't feel amazing. I got dressed and tried to feel okay. I took the big vitamins and went downstairs to start Cole of ring my frog torsos to close up while I was at the market. And that's when I was like. I'm going to be sick. And had to run upstairs to throw up. And it was violent and scary and I was crying. James ran up and rubbed my back and tried to be supportive. I was very upset.

But we tried to just continue on as normal. I cleaned myself up and brushed my teeth again. And we would head out.

We stopped to get a bagel. James also got me a soda but I swear it was a regular and not a diet, despite them telling me otherwise. I drank it but I didn't particularly enjoy it.

Ann was running late today. So when we got there we were mostly in charge. We had to direct some vendors to their spaces and I got myself set up. James made us a sign letting people know we wouldn't be having a market next week because of the running festival. And we would get a few little baked goods. And got a few more little pumpkins for the window. James would also pick up some greens for Crabcake. And Ann, later after she got there and got her own groceries, would eat me cut the green tops of her radishes and carrots to give to Crabcake too. The Internet said he can have those in moderation which is pretty neat.

I was very productive today. I sewed all 38 frogs shut. And I'm very happy with them. A woman who I chatted with said she likes them without legs, that they were tadpoles. And I thought that was very funny. Maybe I'll do a basket of tadpoles too.

I didn't make any sales but it was so pretty out and I was having such a productive day I didn't even mind. James would come out to get apple cider and got me apples. I ate ones of them while I worked. And while I wasn't making sales I was getting my card out there and telling people about my workshops. It was still a good day.

I'm also exaggerating a little. I did make one sale. When the girl I fixed the bear for in my teddy bear hospital came to pick him up. She would pay for the repairs and then bought a froggie too. She was so sweet. She brought the replacement original I had found the listing for and we had a nice chat about her plan for giving the fixed bear to her brother. She also said she would recommend me to others and it was just really sweet and a lovely way to end the day.

I packed up pretty quickly. Chatted with the arts and crafts table next to me (they do free crafts with the kids) about my wagon and how I only ever want to do one trip. I am looking to upgrade my wagon next season though. I want something that folds smaller. But is still strong. I haven't been doing much research but it's on my mind for sure.

I went inside after I loaded the car. Chatted with Meril and Jordan. James was a little busy but I jumped in to give them a hug before I left. I was really looking forward to going home.

When I got back here I put away the groceries. And figured out the best way to warm up my avocado toast from last night. I put the egg and the bread on a pan on the stove and it actually worked pretty well.

I had my lunch and let Sweetp run around outside. But would bring him in and went to change into a big T-shirt so I could lay down.

I would sleep until 430. And it wasn't the best nap ever but it was something.

When I woke up I would go downstairs and laid outside on the porch swing and waited until James got home.

I was feeling pretty nauseous and was just happy to see my husband when they got back. They would kiss my face and went to make me dinner. They made me stuffing and veggie chicken nuggets. Which was great. I had to really pace myself because I was not feeling great. But I tried my best.

I would come inside and laid on the couch with James. Eventually going upstairs to take a bath. They filled a bucket with hot sink water for me. And it was a nice bath. And eventually we would get in bed together to watch videos and cuddle. My stomach hurt and made me nauseous but James pressed on my ribs and that helped.

Now we are just laying on bed. James just finished taking a shower. I think I'm going to throw up again. But I really just want to sleep.

Tomorrow is a long day. I have the first Baltimore autism society class of the season. And then right after I have a wedding to work at the museum. It's going to be a long day but I'm really hoping it will be fun.

I hope you all have a great night. I love you all. Goodnight.

[chiliiscereal]

Prompt idea: the turtles with a friend or s/o that sleep walks.

Turtles with and S/o that sleepwalks

———-

So I based this off how my cousin sleep walks hope you don’t mind :)

Raph:

-home boy freaked out the first time he saw you sleepwalk

-he was up at night getting some cake but when he saw you walking by HO HO BOY did he jump out of his skin

-no one else was awake and you practically materialized out of the shadows!

-he eventually calmed down enough to realize that you weren’t awake

-I mean, it wasn’t exactly obvious

-you sort of walked around aimlessly a while mumbling

-that wasn’t really something sleeping people did..

-“babe, what’re you doin’ up? It’s 1 in the morning!”

-“I gotta put the salami CD’s in the chicken coop”

-“umm.. what?”

-once it finally clicked he didn’t exactly know what he should do

-was it a myth that you weren’t supposed to wake up a sleepwalking person?

-was there some sort of side affect?

-instead of intervening he just sort of sat at the table and watched

-he didn’t want to accidentally do something wrong but he also didn’t want you to get hurt

-he found himself getting up a couple of times when he thought you were gonna run into a table, moving it out of the way at lightning speed

-Other than that you were fine

-you simply walked back into your room and shut the light off

-he asked about it the next morning and you told him you sleep walk if you’re really tired

-and, sadly, being in highschool meant that you were tired all the time

-apparently you’d done it since you were little and you were used to it by now

-Raph didnt exactly know what he should do about it

-you told him you were fine and that he should leave you be, but he didn’t want anything to happen to you

-he decided the best course of action was to help behind the scenes

-that meant making sure you didn’t stay up late

-if you slept walked when you were really tired then he’d stop you from that state of feeling

-he had an alarm set for when he’d start hinting that it was bedtime

-he’s unplug the WiFi if you didn’t get the message (subtly of course) and then he’d turn around and tell you that the WiFi always got spotty when it was late

-he’d even stay up a little later to see if you were going to sleep walk

-if not then he’d head straight to bed

-but sometimes you still did it

-he’d found the best option was to just pick you up and place you back in your room

-“but the salami CD’s...”

-“they’ll still be there in the morning.”

-he’d pull you close to him and let you snuggle in close, the two of you sitting on your

-he always left before you woke up though

-yet you knew he had been there

-it was hard not to know when you woke up with a huge dip in the other side of your bed

-the two of you had a system and it worked

Donnie:

-Donnies already up and working by the time you start walking around

-the thing is, he didn’t realize you weren’t awake for probably an hour

-you were just walking from room to room and occasionally picking things up

-he was used to you being up late in his defense

-but when you ignored him or started mumbling... yeah that ripped him off

-“babe can you pass me the screwdriver?”

-“no, the radishes aren’t condensed.”

-“...I’m sorry?”

“Radishes.”

“Are you even awake?”

“I gotta go condense the radishes before Mikey finds out.”

-this boy was educated on the sleepwalking in a matter of seconds via research

-he knew you needed the rest so he never woke you up

-instead, he would find wherever you were walking around and have you stay in his room while he worked

-you never broke anything and it was nice to not be alone in a way

-besides your sleepwalking never lasted for long

-often it ended with you wandering over to him and slumping against his shoulder

-that meant he got to hold you while the night was quiet and peaceful

-the next morning you always woke back up in your own bed

-Donnie denied that he ever had anything to do with your sleepwalking

-but all you had to do was test it out to find the truth

-you walked into his room without a word one night and he didn’t even seem surprised

-“you good babe?”

-you chose not to say anything, you just kept walking

-“how are those condensed radishes doing?”

-you didn’t know what that meant but you assumed it was something you said in your sleep

-“you’re awfully quiet tonight. Usually you don’t stop talking.”

-you sit down beside him and place your head on his shoulder

-boy doesn’t even hesitate in pulling you closer and going back to work

-you don’t bother telling him that you know

-it’s nice to have someone looking out for you

Leo:

-oh he found out the first time you slept walked

-even brought it up casually the next morning

-he has insomnia so anything that happens after hours he’s already aware of it

-for the first few nights it was him joking about the cause being something supernatural

-he stopped when he thought you were getting offended though

-he diiiiid however say you were the sleep to his insomnia

-he can’t sleep at night and nothing can wake you up!

-you two balance each other out!

-and believe me, he has TRIED to wake you up to no avail

-doesn’t matter if it’s a loud noise or shaking your shoulder, nothing will wake you up

-unfortunately, since he’s always awake, he gets to see everything you do while wandering around

-AND he gets to see it while recording

-he’s got videos and videos of the random nonsense that comes out of your mouth

-and if he ever finds you cleaning in your sleep heaven knows he’s gonna find a way for you to take care of some of his chores to

-“come on, babe! You were already folding clothes! What’s a few extra?”

-he does find himself having to emergency portal you at times

-like the time you nearly walked off the skate ramp

-he portalled you into his arms as quick as he could

-“who decides to put a skate ramp right where people can fall down it?” He’s mumbling as he carries you back to his room

-having you there helps his insomnia very much

-in a way you’re both helping each other

Mikey:

-took the longest time to realize you sleepwalk

-if took him a whole two months

-usually you stayed in your own room

-he only realized when you walked into his room started picking up his art supplies while he was painting

-usually when he was painting you would plop down beside him and ask him questions (all during the day)

-but now you were picking up brushes and mumbling about how you needed to save the tomato’s before the bear ate them all

-poor baby ran to Donnie, thinking you were sick or delusional

-his older brother casually explained that it’s probably just sleep walking and he calmed down

-he was a little freaked out but grew used to it after a couple more night of it

-doesn’t really understand why you sometimes do normal things in your sleep like cleaning or fixing a sandwich

-still finds himself helping you out though

-he’ll be right next to you, folding clothes or passing you the mayo

-recently he found out he can ask you questions and get pretty funny answers

-“do you prefer hot dogs, hamburgers, or pizza?”

-“soggy bread.”

-“That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”

-always keeps you updated the next morning

-it embarrassed you to no end

-he didn’t need to hear all that stuff!

-one night he asked a less casual question

-“so how do you feel about Mikey?”

-“I would eat a thousand soggy breads for Mikey if he asked.”

-“r-really?”

-“of course. I love him!”

-that was the first time you openly said you loved him

-honestly his heart stopped for a few seconds

-he brought it up that next morning and no, you wouldn’t eat a thousand soggy breads if he asked

-but yes, you loved him to pieces

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

Invective Pain

Alpha Bakugou x F!Omega Reader

Words: 2.4k

Requested by: @goatsenpaiultimate

Hehe, sorry for the wait you guys. It’s been a rough few weeks for me. Also, the song ‘Butterfly’s Repose’ by Zabawa is amazing to listen to while you read this💜

Warnings: harsh language, Bakugou being an asshole, angst

“Get the fuck off me.”

“Alpha, please.”

“I said, get off. What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been too clingy,” you prove his point and cling to his arm.

“I miss you,” you try to nuzzle his neck so he can scent you. With your wolf quirk, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from Bakugou for long periods of time. Your instincts were on hyperdrive, always wanting him within your reach so you knew he was safe.

“Don’t you understand what ‘no’ means?” Bakugou tenses up as you continue trying to climb his body. Due to his inability to express himself, he’s still not used to your affections.

“I can’t help it,” you ruffle your tail to prove your point.

“Well, try harder to help it.”

“But, alpha-“

“No, I’m sick and tired of your bullshit. As soon as I come home, you want to climb all over me. I can’t even take a fucking shower,” you hunch into yourself as you take a step away from him. Looking back on it, he did have a point. You could stand to at least allow him a few moments to himself before you bombard him. But, it’s just hard on you.

Because of your quirk, you’ve always been the type to cling to people and try to protect them. You miss your parents because you considered them to be your pack but, that all changed when you met Bakugou. After a few months of dating, you moved in with Bakugou (your inner Omega told you she’d love to start her own pack with him). However, it’s been a difficult transition.

Bakugou normally takes your clinginess in stride but, it’s been hard for him lately. All he wants to do is take you underneath him and nuzzle you and treat you like a queen. But, he’s been dealing with this case. It’s been stressing him out and he’s never been the type to deal with stress in a correct way.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, I- FUCK! Omega. I just can’t keep doing this. You’re fucking annoying. This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have moved in together,” his words stung in your mind like a swarm of hornets, making you yelp in your mind. Although, no one would ever be able to tell your inner turmoil from the calm look on your face. Why does he have to tear you down with his words? What does he gain from your dissociation? Does it bring him satisfaction to win the argument? Even at the expense of your heart? The same heart he swore to protect when he chose you as a mate.

“I’m sorry,” and you don’t understand why. You just stand there with a blank expression, no longer feeling that your heart is safe in his hands. And, that is worse than losing an argument the two of you have.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. I’m tired of you sticking to my fucking side like a toddler. You’re always hovering over me. I need space,” you intend to give him all the space he needs. “Selfish extra.”

He doesn’t know what his words do to you as he goes to the room you share, bumping you out of his way. You want to cry, you want to chirp, you want to-to-die; without him-without your alpha- what is there to live for?

Your omega crawls to your heart, shriveling up like a raisin as if your soul has been sucked by a vacuum. You feel your heart drop; the first sign of Omega Depression and you don’t tell Katsuki. How can you?

He made it clear how bothersome you were in his life. You never meant to be a burden to him. All you wanted to do was love him and give him the love he lacked from his teenage years. But, it’s transparent that you’re not wanted by the person your soul has imprinted upon.

You sit on the couch, staring into nothingness. What did you do wrong? What was so wrong with wanting to love him? You feel weak. Maybe if Katsuki had someone stronger, someone who could take his invective words in stride, he’d be happier.

As you wallow in your own pain, Katsuki is upstairs taking a shower. Part of him feels relieved to finally have some space to himself and the other scolds him for what said; he barely remembers what he said to you exactly. All he knows that your face is blank so, he assumes it’s not too bad since you weren’t crying.

He walks out of the shower expecting to see you but, he’s greeted with an empty bed. He figures you just want space to be angry so, he lets you stay downstairs.

‘It’ll be fine tomorrow,’ it won’t. As he dozes off to that thought, you were downstairs stuck in your mind. It's your fault for always forgiving him after he’s verbally ruined you You just thought your love for him outweighed anything he said to you. But, your unconditional love has reached its limit.

You wait till he falls asleep before you break the facade (you still want him to get his sleep so he can wake up healthy tomorrow). You heave and whimper as you curl into a ball on the cold living room floor. You shake from the force of your tears, tears falling like rain in the spring. You’re trying to smile to stop the tears but, your mouth ends up in a horrible grimace as you silently berate yourself. Your hands scrape at your arms, nails taking patches of your skin as a way to distract your mind. You don’t sleep that night; you don’t sleep for any of the nights that follow.

When you hear your alpha’s alarm clock sound, you climb on the couch with your face smooshed to the cushions. Katsuki follows his nightly routine, not even checking to see if you’re okay. He just gets dressed for his patrol and leaves breakfast on the table for you, kissing your hair goodbye before he leaves out the door.

You’re once again crying as you just lay there. You don’t bother to call your job to notify them of your absence. If anything, you just lay there, your tail curled around your body as if it’s protecting you from the world.

You feel useless against your heart because you know you shouldn’t have allowed Bakugou’s temper to get to this point. You had suggested therapy and anger management to him many times but, he was persistent in telling you that he had it under control. You knew he thought seeking therapy was weak (as he thinks most things are weak) but, you just wanted him to think before he spoke.

You can tell that he’s tried to do better for you and you appreciate that but, it’s not enough anymore.

This was the last straw. Not because you still don’t love him but, because you’re now in your Omega’s Depression. It’s a fairly new phenomenon. The doctors warned Omegas and Alphas that their second genders could drive them into a comatose state if the genders were met with unfavorable conditions. Your omega has started the process and you can only hope that Katsuki figures that out before it’s too late.

At first, Bakugou didn’t think anything about your attitude. He just thought you were giving him space (which he hated. It feels weird to him to be alone when he was always with you and he’s too prideful to admit that) however, he knows something is wrong when you start to avoid him.

You don’t talk to him like you use to, you don’t cook his favorite spicy ramen anymore, hell, you don’t even come to bed anymore. It’s like two strangers living in the same house (well, roommates would be more accurate). And, he misses you.

“Why are you sleeping on that shitty couch?” He’s standing above you with his arms folded, head to the side so he can hide his blush. You don’t respond, dried tear stains on your cheeks.

“Not gonna answer? What you’re too good to speak to me?” He squats down to eye-level. His breath fans across your face, the smokey caramel of his scent bringing more tears to your eyes. “Omega?”

You still don’t answer. He takes that as you still being angry about the argument; he also notes the change in your scent.

“Tch,” he walks to the bedroom and comes back with a few blankets so he can make a small hammock beside the couch at your side. He slips into the covers, hand upon your waist so he can feel you. “Goodnight, Omega.”

The next day, you’re still in the same spot on the couch above him. He does his routine, this time spending longer at saying goodbye.

“I’ll be back, Omega. Cuddling wouldn’t be the worse thing when I get home,” you stare blankly.

“And, I put some of your favorite cookies on the table,” still nothing.

“I love you,” nothing. And, that’s how he knows that everything is wrong. He spends the day on patrol, withdrawn from his hero-work. All he can think about is that blank look in your eye, the stillness of your home, the taste of failure on his tongue.

‘I fucked up,’ he sure did.

He comes home and you're still in the same spot. He doesn’t even think you got up to use the bathroom. You’re the first thing he attends to when his boots cross the threshold.

“Omega, you need a bath,” you don’t move so he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. Your body is sweating and that stench gets even worse. “Omega, I’m sorry.”

But, sorry doesn’t fix everything. Sorry is nothing when you truly hurt someone. Sorry is when someone feels obligated to correct their wrongs (not because they want to). Sorry is the Black Licorice of apologies.

“Have you gone to work?” No. He knows you haven’t but, he just wants you to talk to him. His alpha cries for his mate yet, she doesn’t respond. “Baby?”

The bath is spent in silence as you sag on him. His hand's card through your (h/c) hair, trying to release some of your tension. It’s such an intimate moment of him caressing your body as though you are a precious work of art. His lips latched onto the mating mark on the side of your neck, reminding you that he cares.

When he gets you out of the tub, he dries you with your favorite fluffy towel. His carmine eyes gaze at you adoringly from your navel, blonde hair resting against your belly. One in a while, he’ll kiss your legs and feet, silently showing how much he truly cares for you.

Night rolls around and you both follow the same routine as before; you’re laying on the couch and he’s laying beside you on the floor. You’re not eating and that terrifies him. Sadly, this goes on for another month. And, Katsuki is growing desperate to have his omega back.

“I allowed my anger to do this to her- to me-to us. And, now, I don’t know if I can help her anymore,” he joined an anger management group (which, coincidentally helped his public image as well) after he realized the argument caused the rift in your relationship.

And, you’re proud of him on the inside, even if you can’t show it. At least he’s trying but, your omega just turns a blind eye to his efforts. You commend Katsuki for not giving up though.

‘It must be hard trying to change and improve for someone and they don’t even acknowledge your existence,’ you do feel bad for him. It seems that your love does outweigh his words.

But, you’re dying. He knows it. You know it. It’s known. He just won’t accept it.

“Omega,” you’re unconscious. He came home from the weekly session to find you unresponsive (well, more unresponsive than what you’ve been). “Omega, fuck-please-I God I, please wake up.”


So, you’re at the hospital now. The antiseptic burns your sensitive nose as you’re propped up on the hospital bed, sheets crinkling under your body. The doctors told Bakugou that you didn’t really have long to live but, he just can’t allow you to go without trying his best to save you.

“Omega, please, look at me,” you look at him but, it’s like you’re not seeing him. Your eyes don’t have the shine they used to. “Omega, please.”

You can’t answer him. What if you said the wrong thing? You were clinging to life by a single strand of fiber, death clinging to your scent. You knew you couldn’t handle it if Katsuki’s words hurt you once more.

“Please, talk to me, yell at me. Hit me. Do anything,” you can’t. Your voice is stuck in your mind. “Get mad. Throw something. Spit on me! Push me away. Shit, anything. Please just please please pleaseeee, fucking, please. PLEASE I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BE WITHOUT YOU. Please stop looking like you want to die.”

“But, I do,” you hope he can understand.

“NO! NO NO! I FUCKING NEED YOU. I LOVE YOU,” he chokes on his words as he gathers your face in his hands. “I’m such a piece of shit. It takes you dying for me to realize how much I love you. But, I do. I love you so much it hurts. I can’t lose you.”

“Wipe your tears,” you brush your thumbs across his cheek to gather his tears. “I’m right here.”

“How can you love me still? Your will to live is fucking weak and it’s my fault! And, I’m sitting here asking you to hold on for me. You don’t even have to speak to me. Just stay here. I promise I’ll stay here with you. You can’t leave me.”

“Bakugou-“

“For fuck's sake, It’s Katsuki to you! I did this to you. I’m so sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for pushing you away when I felt I didn’t deserve your love. I’m sorry for making you feel the pain I felt all these years. I’m sorry for being a shitty alpha,” he cries in your lap as you pat his back. Your omega stores, crooning to help her alpha. You’re not dead; the future may look bleak but, you know it will finally bring you the love you longed for.

————————————————————————-

Tag List💕

@orokayagi @sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess