#paradox live one shot

[hebimoonlightwrites]

I love your para live writings! I would like to request something With a female s/o who is a rapper as well with reo-chan! You know s/o would be really badass outside but inside she is struggling a lot and have phantom effects and nightmares a lot. And you know some angst with happy ending? Hope its not too much to ask for and thank you so much!

Writer's corner: Wow! I totally screamed happily when I read this!! Well.. I've decided to write a one-shot for it. Also I hope you'll enjoy it! If you do not like it, please let me know and ask for something else so I'll write another one for you! Enjoy~

Warnings: phantometal effect, serious content and trauma (please, read with respect), angst (happy ending)...

⋆"𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒"⋆

"No...! No!... It's not my fautl!! It's not my fault!!... I DIDN'T KILL HER!! I didn't!!"

This was what mc yelled in the middle of the night, sitting on her bed after having a nightmare. It was the umpteenth bad dream she had. Her heart was beating faster than before and her eyes were open wide, looking around that room which was supposed to be hers. It was like if her gaze was trying to run away from those traumatic images which haunt her, forbiding her to sleep properly.

Her left hand's fingers ran through her own hair, while her right hand was looking for her smartphone in the dark of that room. She found herself wondering if her room was as dark as her past.

She had lived with Akan Yatsura's members for a few months now, but yet none of them had ever asked her about her past. It was like that even they had some dark shadows behind their backs and nobody had enough courage to uncover them.

4:50 am..

It was still early and her breath was already tired, as her body was. She was going to have a performance later in the early afternoon with the other AKYR guys. But yet, she felt like her body wasn't ready to step on a stage again. Her strength, her passion in music, her badass look...

Everything was just collapsing just like a cards castle.

Mc didn't have enough time to think more, that someone knocked on her room's door. A soft and young voice whispered behind it.

"Mc...! It's me, Reo... Are you okay?.. I heard you screaming in your dreams again.. You want to talk about it?"

Mc smiled softly hearing her friend's voice, so she decided to let him in her room. The young guy had sleepy eyes. He was probably sleeping well, but being woken up by that girl's voice. Of course he was worried! They were close friend, but yet Reo was feeling like Mc had something hidden, something terrible which haunt and scare her to the core. He really knew well her external being, her badass rhymes, her passion, her determination, as well as her sweet being towards him and the other AKYR. He wanted to help her. He really wanted to.. And. Yeah.. It was 'cause he had understood after a while that he actually loved her.

"You had a nightmare?", Reo asked, rubbing his own eyes. Mc looked down to her hands and, especially, she gave an intense look to that bracelet her dear mother had given her before.. well...

...before the accident.

Yeah... The accident...

...Her trauma.

"You can tell me, mc.. You know I.. I care about you... We're.... friends, no?", Reo tried to look at her eyes in the dark of that room of hers. He held her hand softly.. and yes.. it was exactly the hand with the bracelet. It was strangely rough... Not as the usual soft hand of Mc.

Mc's eyes lived that day, again, even if there was actually only the darkness of her room in front of her eyes. Her mind went to that terrible and damned day. She heard those people screaming... she felt the asphalt on her skin and darkness... after that, she opened her eyes and.... she saw again her mother smiling but a second later there... lying beside her. Her mum's eyes open but empty.. Her father had never loved her mother... And now? Reo was trying to convince Mc that he really cared about her? He would have abandon her, just like her dad did with her mother..

"NO!! NOOO!!! LET ME BE!! GO AWAY!!!", Mc yelled again, wrapping her own hands around her head. It was a torture!! Why did she have to feel that way!! It wasn't her fault! It wasn't!! It wasn't ...

...right?

Maybe it was.

Among all those screams she felt something strange, like burning on her wrist, exactly the one where she held her mother's bracelet, her phantometal. Reo tried to calm mc down, panicking seeing how she was feeling.

He didn't know that mc hadn't told anyone about her metal erosion.

And he wouldn't have discovered it. Mc tried to hide her hand in the darkness of her room and push Reo out of her room. He wouldn't have betrayed her like her father did to her mother.

Later in the early afternoon each AKYR members and mc got prepared for that performance of theirs. They all were excited of rapping in front of hundred, probably even thousand, of people! Zen had just finished training and said he felt so strong and ready!! Also Iori, Satsuki and Hokusai were, but Reo seemed so worried. His mind was still focused on what had happened that night. Why had mc behad that way?

But what about mc? Was she going to perform even if she was feeling metal erosion and nightmares?

Of couse she was!

She wore a different and oversized hoodie that day. It was unusual seeing her like that. Her face was paler and her eyes were sleepy. The others noticed it and tried to know what had happened.

"I don't think you should perform today, mc. Look at yourself! You don't look well at all.", Iori said, approaching mc who jumped slightly and covered more her arm at the sight of that man.

"Don't tell me what I have to do or not, Iori... I'm able to take care of myself."

What a lie, mc!.. That was definitely a lie...

...and you knew it.

And now here they all were, standing in front of thousand of people, holding those mics among the audience's happy screams and waving. The music started. All the hearts were focused on it, in order to make that day unforgettable for those people. They all started rapping their emotions. Some illusions appeared on the stage: Hokusai's tiger, followed by Satsuki's fireworks and Reo's confettis. People cheered, trying to grab those confettis. But Reo wasn't feeling well at all. His eyes were constantly pointed to Mc's figure. She hadn't sung yet. Her arms were weakly falling beside her body, wrapped in that oversized and colourful hoodie she had never worn before.

It was her turn, now.

Mc put that mic near to her mouth as she started rapping with the same aggressive and badass look which characterized her. But... Where was her illusion? Where were her blooming flowers? Where was her "rebirthing nature"? The stage was covered in fog, behind that fog.... a bunch of dead flowers. Their petals brought to the audience by the wind. Something was changing and Reo understood it immediately.

Mc started coughing. Suddenly a stabbing pain in her right arm, the one where she held her phantometal, made her yell in pain. She held her arm, falling on her knees and, then, onto the stage's floor among the audience panicked screams. Reo ran to her immediately, while Zen grabbed a mic only to say to the audience to calm down, that nothing had happened and that she was fine.. oh, well.. he hoped so.

"Stupid! I told you not to perform!!", Iori yelled, approaching mc, while Reo was trying to figure out what had happened to her. He was totally panicked, some tears started falling down his cheeks when he saw mc's face that pale, like if she was dead.

Hokusai decided to call an ambulance and, well.. the concert had been deleted, of course. They couldn't go on without her. Reo would have been too worried, as well as the others.

Mc was brought to the hospital immediately. Doctors were clear: she had metal erosion caused by her phantometal and her trauma. Her nightmares had been caused by that thing too. Now everything was clear enough for Reo.

He ran to mc's hospital room immediately, without even asking the doctor for permission. Behind his back he let Iori calling him: "Reo!!! Reo!!! Wait!! You can't-!!"

He didn't care. He didn't care at all!

He wanted to see her. He needed to see her. He was terribly afraid of losing her. He couldn't. Not now that he had understood how he loved her. Yeah.. he did.

Reo's running steps echoed in those white and clean corridors. His breath was as heavy as it had been Mc's one the night before. Why didn't she tell him how she felt?

That stupid!!

Ignoring all those doctors who wanted to stop Reo entering Mc's room, the young boy ran and kneeled down beside that girl's bed. He sobbed, keeping his eyes to her paler face, her eyes closed... Her arms... they were...

"She's fine.. We managed to help her.. just in time.", a nurse said softly smiling, putting an hand on Reo's shoulder. He was crying because.. He hated seeing mc that way!! It was his fault. If he had opposed and stayed with her the night before, then that wouldn't have happened and she would have been just fine!

Reo gently reached Mc's hand, the one with metal erosion. Nurses had removed her phantometal, which was on a near table. He looked at it, kinda cursing it for being the cause of Mc's pain, but... he didn't know Mc's trauma yet.

As he saw Mc getting better and opening her own eyes, Reo jumped to her, hugging her figure tightly. He cried loudly.

"You idiot!!! Why didn't you tell me about it?!?! Why did you push me away?!?!? I was so scared to lose you!!! Yes, I was!! Because I love you, Mc!!! I love you!!!"

He... He does?

He actually does?

As Mc heard those words, a tear let her right eyes and fell down her paler cheek. He... He loved her. She had been a fool not to trust Reo enough to tell him about all those nightmares and phantometal's consequences and... well... her traumas. She should have told him..

"Promise to trust me next time, mc! I don't want to see you like that again...!"

"I.... I do.", Mc quietly said hugging Reo rightly.

They would have been together from that moment on... Always.

[nayushikisses]

the paralive community should start a trend or something where we all say our favorite characters and our favorite verse of theirs. for me it’d be shiki and his part in mercy on me

[seangelfish]

#Sil300Special hii I hope there is still some space ay, I was wondering if I could request headcanons for cozmez with a s/o fem who is a children's entertainer ^^ well that would be all jeje tkm and congratulations *hugg* <33

Here's the first request for the event!! Thank you so much for your request for my 300 followers event! ♡(>ᴗ•) Your request is ranked 8th, so there isn't a gift this time around, but thank you for participating nevertheless~ 💕

THEIR S/O AS A CHILDREN'S ENTERTAINER

Featured characters: Kanata Yatonokami, Nayuta Yatonokami

♡ Tags: Headcanons/bulletpoint fic, fluff, casual romance, established relationships, fem reader

♡ Word count: 559 (Kanata), 467 (Nayuta)

♡ A/N: I loved writing this. It was the sweetest thing. I hope everyone enjoys! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )♡

Kanata doesn't care how you make your money, but he does get intrigued when you would always come home to him with candy and confetti in your pockets.

"Look at my haul today, Kanata!" you exclaimed, dropping all the candy onto his lap. "Let's try some–"

"Oi..." he said, annoyed at the fact you just dumped all your sweets on him. "We can't eat these until after dinner, y'know?"

You were always so happy whenever you'd show him what the kids had given you that day, describing how the parties went that in the end, it made Kanata want to attend these events to see you in action too.

He had never seen you working before because your usual gigs were children's parties, but there were times you'd work at public events that were usually hosted in the middle of the city.

You had informed him about your current event beforehand, so he went to visit you after working his own jobs set by Iori.

But when he arrived, he didn't see you anywhere. Sure, there were balloons and kids everywhere and that big, fluffy bunny mascot that you couldn't miss, but you, his girlfriend, wasn't there.

"Ehhh... where is she?"

Kanata stayed for a few minutes, eyeing the happy faces of kids who were given balloons by the bunny, but he came here for you, not some middle-aged man in a rabbit costume.

He was about to leave until the bunny ran over to him. It took his hand and tried giving him a balloon.

"Argh... No thanks, I'm fine," he uttered. He was kind of embarrassed that the bunny went over to him and made him the centre of attention. "No, seriously. I don't want it."

But the bunny was reluctant. You were reluctant. Urging your boyfriend to take the balloon was hard when he was being so stubborn.

"Just take the balloon, Kanata!" you cried under the layers of fabric and foam. You jumped up and down in frustration as the balloon followed your movements.

And for some reason, this was what got Kanata to accept the balloon. "Okay, fine..." he sighed, but a smile appeared on his face. "Thanks... (Y/N)."

You had told him you were going to be working as a mascot this time around, but it seems that Kanata didn't take that information in until the last second.

But you were content that he finally accepted your balloon, so you continued to do your job of entertaining the kids.

When your shift was over, Kanata was waiting for you with the string in between his fingers. He looked adorable sitting there with the balloon you gave him.

"Kanata, I'm done!" you said, engulfing him in a hug. You had changed out of your mascot costume so you were free to talk to him normally. "I'm glad you came!"

With his other hand, he hugged you back. "Yeah... I didn't expect that mascot to be you though," he confessed. "Not until you started stomping like that, haha."

"Was that how you recognised it was me...?" you questioned in offence. But you laughed as you linked arms with him, ready to go home. “But I was a cute bunny, wasn’t I?”

“Mm, the cutest,” he agreed. “Do I still have to hold onto this balloon though…?”

“Of course! I gifted it to you after all!”

Nayuta thinks it’s pretty cool that you’re a children’s entertainer. But to be honest, he always thinks you're cool.

Since he can't see you at work, he's still content with the fact you can show him pictures and videos of you performing. He always has something cute to say about how you dress or the way you speak to the kids.

"Your outfit's really... interesting... but you look adorable, haha."

But he does want to see you work in person one day. The two of you don't know how that is possible though, but an opportunity arose when one of the kid's parties was held at the park.

"Nayuta, you can help me set up the activities," you said. "It'll be fun!"

"Sure, but do I have to wear those costumes too...?"

"Of course you do! It's part of being a children's entertainer!"

Nayuta barely wore such absurd and bright colours, but you thought he looked adorable. He looked like a little kid in his primary-coloured outfits and polka dots.

"Hehe, smile!" you chirped, taking a pic of your boyfriend.

"H-Hey! Delete that!"

"No way! You look so cute! Plus this is something to be remembered."

Nayuta scoffed under his breath, but he didn't press on further. You did look really happy.

"Fine," he breathed as he flicked your forehead with a small smile. "Just don't show anyone else, okay?"

When it was time to entertain the kids, Nayuta helped you out with the activities you had planned for them beforehand. He was exceptional when speaking to the little ones and it surprised you a little.

But he was terrible at making balloon animals, so he just sat there and watched you do it.

For most of the time that he was there, he admired you, watching you in awe and in love that you could be so energetic and humorous.

At home, you were the complete opposite. Sure, you were energetic, but this was a whole different level. The kids loved how entertaining and fun you were that the atmosphere Nayuta was occupying felt so cozy and warm, something that he didn't get to experience when he was a kid.

"Thanks for helping me out, Nayuta!" you exclaimed. "Did you have fun?"

Nayuta nodded as he carried a little party bag filled with candy in one hand whilst the other carried yours.

"Haha, yeah I did," he said, but continued softly. "I'm glad I got to experience that one way or another..."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing~"

Despite helping you out that one time, Nayuta concluded that he just wasn't fit to be a children's entertainer, but he loved that you were one, so that was all that mattered.

And yet he still loved hearing your stories and watching videos of you performing. He'll never get tired of those.

Intro page | Paradox Live masterlist | #Sil300Special!

[asbestieos]

paralives great except they shoulda had everyone dive into kanatas trauma and save that bastard like bae did for hajun like cmonnnn you cant show a life-threatening last-resort action and NOT do it for the season finale

[jalapenobee]

one day kenta will find out that reo told kanata (and by extension, nayuta) that they were rivals and there will be violence

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Throw A Tantrum

Mafia Boss!Lizzie Olsen x fem!reader

Summary: Lizzie won't stop asking you to marry her, it's become a game between you two now, but when Lizzie doesn't handle a situation right you blow off and go on a little shopping trip with her card

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Lizzie and you have an argument

A/N: This is based off of this post

You always knew there was something different about Lizzie. Growing up together in the quiet suburbs, she always had this aura of command around her, even as kids. But you never imagined that one day she would become the head of the mafia, and you certainly didn't expect her to want to marry you.

Living with Lizzie in her sprawling, luxurious penthouse was an experience in itself. The place was a stark contrast to your childhood homes, filled with top-of-the-line furnishings and an almost intimidating level of sophistication. But despite the opulence, there were small touches that made it feel like home—photos of the two of you over the years, your favorite books on the shelves, and the cozy blanket you always curled up with draped over the back of the couch.

One evening, you were curled up on that very couch, reading a book, when Lizzie strolled into the living room. She leaned against the doorframe, her presence both comforting and intimidating, a paradox you had come to accept.

"Marry me," Lizzie said, for the hundredth time, her tone half-serious, half-teasing. Her dark green eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked at you.

"No," you replied with a smirk, not even looking up from your book. It was a ritual between you two by now, a game you both enjoyed. Despite your refusals, Lizzie never stopped asking, and you never stopped saying no, but it was all part of the dance you two shared.

"You know," Lizzie began, walking over to sit next to you on the couch, "you'd make a perfect mafia queen. You've got the attitude for it."

"And you have the persistence of a stalker," you shot back, finally meeting her gaze. Her eyes softened, a look that made your heart race.

"I just know what I want," Lizzie said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "And I always get what I want."

You rolled your eyes, though the fluttering in your chest was hard to ignore. "You can't just go around deciding people's lives for them, Lizzie."

"Maybe not everyone," she conceded, a sly smile playing on her lips, "but you? You're different."

"Different how?" you challenged, leaning in slightly.

"Different as in, you're already my wife in every way that matters," she said softly, her fingers grazing your cheek. "I spoil you, protect you, and love you more than anything in this world."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words. Despite your playful refusals, you were deeply in love with Lizzie. You just couldn't admit it out loud, not when her life was filled with danger and uncertainty. But every touch, every glance she gave you made it harder to resist her.

"You're delusional," you teased, trying to keep the mood light, but your voice betrayed your true feelings.

"Maybe," she whispered, her lips now inches from yours, "but I wouldn't have it any other way."

Before you could respond, she closed the gap, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. It was a kiss that spoke of years of friendship, unspoken feelings, and a future you were too scared to embrace.

When she finally pulled away, you were breathless, your resolve crumbling.

"One day," Lizzie murmured, her forehead resting against yours, "you'll say yes."

"Maybe," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But until then, enjoy the chase."

Lizzie chuckled, pulling you into her arms. "Oh, I am, darling. I am."

And as you nestled into her embrace, surrounded by the familiarity of your shared home, you knew that no matter how much you teased or resisted, Lizzie would always be there, loving you in her own fierce, unwavering way.

================

Lizzie's penthouse had five bedrooms, each more lavish than the last. Yet, from the moment you moved in, Lizzie had insisted that you share her bedroom. "For your protection," she'd said, her tone brooking no argument. You had reluctantly agreed, knowing that her insistence came from a place of love and concern.

One night, after a particularly trying day, you found yourself lying in bed with Lizzie. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over the plush bedding and elegant décor. Lizzie's arms were wrapped around you, her hands roaming over your back in a soothing, familiar pattern. Her lips found yours, and you melted into the kiss, feeling a mixture of love and frustration.

You loved these moments and hated them all in one breath. The intimacy, the warmth of her touch, the way she made you feel safe and cherished—it was intoxicating. But it also made you painfully aware of how much you wanted to submit, to be hers completely. And that terrified you.

Lizzie's kisses grew more passionate, her hands exploring with a hunger that mirrored your own. You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in her hair as you deepened the kiss. Yet, in the back of your mind, a voice whispered that you couldn't allow yourself to fully give in. Not when her life was filled with danger and uncertainty.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes searched yours, as if seeking answers to unspoken questions. "What are you thinking?" she asked softly, her breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated, struggling to find the words. "I... I love you, Lizzie. You know that. But I can't—"

"Shh," she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You don't have to explain. I understand."

And she did. Lizzie knew your fears, your doubts, and the reasons behind your resistance. She respected them, even if it meant enduring the ache of unfulfilled longing.

"I just want you to know that I'm here," Lizzie whispered, her fingers brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. "Whenever you're ready, I'll be here."

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. Nestling closer to her, you allowed yourself to bask in the comfort of her embrace, even if just for a little while longer.

=================

It started out as a minor disagreement, something trivial about the way Lizzie handled a situation with one of her lieutenants. But, as things often did with the two of you, it quickly escalated.

“You never listen to me, Lizzie!” you shouted, frustration boiling over. “You just do whatever you want, without considering how it affects others!”

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed, her calm demeanor cracking just a bit. “I always listen to you. But sometimes, there are things you don’t understand about my world.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” you retorted. “It’s your world, not ours. You always have to be in control.”

The argument continued to spiral until you stormed out, grabbing your keys and slamming the door behind you. You needed space, a chance to cool down and clear your head. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of retail therapy.

Hours passed, and you found yourself at the most luxurious boutiques in the city. Every swipe of your card felt like a small act of rebellion, a way to assert some control in a situation where you often felt powerless. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, anything and everything caught your eye.

Meanwhile, back at home, Lizzie was dealing with the aftermath of your fight. She knew she had pushed too hard, but her pride wouldn’t let her admit it. That is, until her phone rang.

“Miss Olsen,” the bank manager’s voice was cautious. “There’s been an unusual amount of spending on one of your accounts. We wanted to verify—”

“It’s fine,” Lizzie interrupted, a wry smile on her lips as she realized what you were doing. “Just my future wife throwing a tantrum.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a tentative, “Understood, Miss Olsen. Should we impose any limits?”

“No,” Lizzie said firmly. “Let her buy whatever she wants. She’ll come home eventually.”

And she was right. Laden with shopping bags and feeling a mix of satisfaction and guilt, you finally returned. Lizzie was waiting, her expression a blend of amusement and exasperation.

“Had fun?” she asked, eyeing the mountain of bags you set down.

“Immensely,” you replied, though your tone was softer now, the anger having dissipated.

Lizzie stepped closer, taking your hands in hers. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I do listen to you, and I do care about what you think. Sometimes I just get… carried away.”

You sighed, leaning into her touch. “I know. And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

Lizzie pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “It’s okay. Just promise me you won’t run off and bankrupt me every time we argue.”

You laughed, the sound muffled against her shoulder. “Deal. But only if you promise to actually listen.”

“Deal,” she echoed, pulling back to look into your eyes. “Now, let’s go through these bags and see what my future wife bought.”

As you sat together, sorting through your extravagant purchases, you took a deep breath and decided to take the plunge. "Lizzie," you started, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Yes?" she looked up, her eyes full of curiosity and a hint of apprehension.

"Ask me again," you said softly.

Her brows furrowed for a moment before realization dawned on her face. A slow smile spread across her lips as she took your hands in hers once more. "Will you marry me?"

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Yes, Lizzie. I'll marry you."

Lizzie pulled you into a kiss, her arms tightening around you as if she never wanted to let go. And in that moment, surrounded by shopping bags and the remnants of a heated argument, you knew you had made the right decision. No matter the ups and downs, you were ready to face them together, as partners, as lovers, and now, as fiancées.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

A Little Paradox Never Hurt Nobody (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Tenth Doctor x Eleventh Doctor x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: It's been six months since Eleven joined you both, and it's safe to say things have escalated a little.

CW: smut, threesome, filthy stuff im so proud of this

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

See, the thing about Time Lords is that they are notoriously competitive. Particularly Time Lords of different regenerations in the same place at the same time. Particularly Time Lords of different regenerations in the same place at the same time who both had (or was it has?) the same companion. Said companion was you. Said Time Lords were the Tenth and the Eleventh regenerations of the Doctor. 

When the eleventh Doctor had spouted his way out of a portal and into the tenth’s console room, there had been rather a lot of shouting, a lot of confusion, and a lot of use of the word ‘paradox.’ Quite frankly, if you never heard that word ever again it would be far too soon. 

After that, there was a lot of discussion around Eleven not being able to be there because he already knew how all this was going to go. All the things Ten had yet to live, Eleven had already been through and while it was general knowledge that one should not attempt to change one’s own past- one was not always able to control oneself if that particular opportunity should arise. 

They’d tried pretty hard at first to figure out how to get him back. There was some ‘timey wimey’ reason as to why they couldn’t just use the TARDIS, and that had been about the extent of time and space travel knowledge you had, so you didn’t put any other suggestions in after that. 

And so, Eleven was still with you six months later. 

You didn’t know, of course, that Eleven still had you with him after Ten was due to regenerate in the future, not that you knew when that was, but what you also didn’t know until about a month into Eleven���s presence was that your relationship with Ten continued on with Eleven after a brief adjustment period. Fair enough. 

And then Ten found out, and as they were both technically (but also not really) the same person, you ended up sleeping with them both. It had been their idea, though you were pretty sure that it had just sort of happened and they decided to take the credit. 

Anyway, all this to say- Ten and Eleven knew how to play your body like a violin, and when they worked together it was as if they moved in tandem. It’s own kind of chaotic different to when they were feuding. They did that a lot too, to be fair. 

Today it seemed as though they wanted to work as one. Riling you up every way they knew how. Lingering touches in bed, a hard squeeze on the way past you, whispered words of desire in corridors and spare rooms. Ten had rutted himself up against your thighs at some point and had unfortunately had to leave before he or yourself could finish- some urgent TARDIS thing. 

Eleven had you pressed into the wall of his bedroom and had you grind yourself silly on his thigh. You’d not been able to get off, and Eleven had tutted when you’d whined that you needed more. You’d practically begged him, but he’d said no- “later, Petal.” 

Things had continued on like that, teasing and close calls where whomever it was teasing you had to run for whatever reason. 

Of course- they’d been planning it that way. The two of them, working together to get you as desperate as they possibly could so that when they finally had at you, you’d succumb to the pleasure with no thoughts left in your pretty little head. 

“Oh, look at that,” Ten said from behind you, pinning your legs open with his own. You made some sort of sound- you weren’t even sure it sounded human. “Haven’t even been fucking into you for that long yet- already fucked dumb, love.” 

Ten’s hands were wrapped around your waist, squeezing comfortingly as Eleven laid one hand on your knee and the other on your breast, flicking at the nipple while he fucked his hard cock into you over and over without mercy. 

“Mm- she does, rather, doesn’t she?” Eleven commented, taking the hand on your breast to grab you by the chin and turn your face side to side. With your muscles so lax, you didn’t fight the motion, and Eleven wasn’t being rough with you anyway (yet) so it wasn’t a big deal. You whimpered, eyes screwing shut and head lolling against Ten’s shoulder. “Desperate little thing, aren’t you, love?” 

You could barely form a response, tears welling as Eleven found a particularly good spot and rammed his cock into it repeatedly. Your muscles were non-existent by this point, having been eaten out twice and fingered to completion once on top of that as well. Ten had to keep your legs spread with his own, and he did so without complaint. Getting to see Eleven fuck you silly over the top of your shoulder was more than enough of an incentive for him. 

On top of barely being able to form a response to anything your boys were saying, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so cockdrunk that nothing was registering for you except the deep thrusting of Eleven’s cock into your g-spot over and over like a mantra you never wanted to end. 

And because you were unable to keep your eyes open for more than two seconds at a time, you didn’t notice Ten’s fingers trailing over your hips to rub at your clit. You felt it though, and Ten had to tighten his muscles to keep you from snapping your legs shut around Eleven’s hips. 

“Oh, my darling,” Ten cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “I know, darling. I know, love. It’s so much. It’s too much. You can do it, oh yes, I know you can. You’re such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” It was all you could do to not start crying with the overstimulation. 

And it wasn’t to say you didn’t feel good. You felt fucking amazing, so so good, but it was so much. So much pleasure firing through your nerve endings. You could feel how puffy and swollen your lips were stretched around Eleven and it only served to make you cry out louder. 

“Hush now, dear,” Eleven said, pressing his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. You didn’t argue, whole body limp against their whims. Whatever they wanted, you would give it to them. Anything at all. 

Eleven grinned breathily, and fucked up into you harshly, not seeming to care how fucked out you were in the slightest. You wriggled against the fingers on your clit, and clung to Ten as though he were your lifeline. 

“There there,” Ten said softly, fingers rubbing tight little circles. “Oh, darling, oh yes, I know. He’s so mean to you, isn’t he? Mhm. Oh yes.” 

Eleven grumbled though it evened out into a moan when your cunt fluttered around him. His head dropped forward, already mussed hair falling into a curtain in front of his eyes. He gave his hips a few especially hard rolls, and your eyes fazed out onto the ceiling above you. 

“Oh, look at that, Doctor,” Ten said, cooing and shushing you comfortingly. “We thought she was fucked out before. Look at her now. Maybe we should give her a break, eh?” 

Eleven grunted, hips rocking softly now for a moment, giving himself time to think on it. 

“Nah, don’t think so,” Eleven replied, getting back into his rhythm. 

Ten’s fingers revived their assault, rubbing against you with such ferocity that you were afraid you might actually combust. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your body forced you to climax again, the pleasure bordering on pain with how intense it was. Your clit almost felt like it was burning- and yet you didn’t want it to stop. Ten shushed you gently, rubbing his nose along the shell of your ear and pressing kisses to your sweaty hair as your body spasmed between them. 

Your cunt contracting harshly around Eleven forced him to cum, ropes of his seed painting inside you. The heat of them- warmer than a humans- filled you up so nicely that you were genuinely concerned under the foggy waves of pleasure that you might start crying. 

Eleven rode his high out with your body, no care given for your poor overstimulated cunt, and finally when the last rolls of pleasure were done with him, he pulled himself out. He did so slowly, and you grimaced slightly at the tug of your puffy walls around him. 

Eleven cooed and pressed a kiss to your cheek to placate you. 

Ten let his legs slide down the bed, and yours followed accordingly, unable to hold themselves up for even another minute more. God, you were well and truly fucked. Literally, not figuratively (at the moment, anyway). You lolled back against him, nuzzling your cheek into his neck. 

You hadn’t even noticed Eleven leave, but you definitely noticed him returning, towel in hand and water dripping off his face. Ah, he’d gone to clean up. 

“Now, Ten, dearest, are you planning to fuck her before we all retire for the evening?” Eleven asked without much charm. He was just like that. You didn’t take offence. In fact, his crass command of language was one of the things that made you love him more. “Only asking in relation to clean up, of course.” 

You could feel Ten hard against your backside, and you gave a half-hearted attempt to grind up against him. You were quite sore, but you wouldn’t say no if he wanted to use you.

“Can fuck ‘er tits if you like,” Eleven added, noting the way your legs subconsciously closed themselves. The ache was intense, but you considered it an added bonus to the pleasure you’d just been subjected to. 

“Oh, big load of charming you are,” Ten scolded. “Blimey, you’re lucky I was there to lay the foundations for you both or you’d have had no chance.” 

“Now, now, boys,” you said- the first words in a fair while to come out of your mouth and it was to stop them bickering. Even your voice sounded as though it had been thoroughly ravaged. 

“Can I?” The Doctor asked, turning his attention back to you. One of his hands squeezed at your tit, and you swore you could feel the lust rolling off him in waves from that one action alone. You nodded tiredly. Of course, he could. 

Ten leaned you forward so he could escape from behind you. Eleven took his spot without issue, pulling you up to sit against him rather than lay against him as you did with Ten. 

Eleven brushed the hair behind your ear as Ten positioned himself in front of you. You looked up at his eager face, running a hand over his chest and down over his tummy to wrap around his upper thigh. 

Just as you were about to let go and hold your breasts together for him, Eleven’s big, warm hands took their place, pressing against your skin, one forefinger flicking at a nipple quickly just to tease. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Ten breathed, dribbling some lube onto your tits. “So brilliant, love. Just like that- oh, yes- f-fuck.” 

“Look at him,” Eleven whispered hotly into your ear. “Not even started yet and already stuttering.” 

You let out a giggle of a whimper, and Ten’s hips started to rock against you. Your tired arms wrapped around the backs of his thighs, giving his ass a little squeeze. 

Ten groaned, fucking your tits desperately. He wasn’t going to last long after having been teasing you and therefore himself as well all day, and it was barely another two minutes before his cock was starting to twitch and he started to moan with that lilt that he always did when he was close to spilling. 

“Please,” you whined, head dropping back against Eleven’s shoulder. “Ten, please- Doctor-” 

“Well, you heard the lady,” Eleven tutted, pushing your tits together that little bit harder to create a touch more friction for him. “You’d better cum then, shouldn’t you?” 

Ten groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his gorgeous neck to you both. Eleven nipped at the tip of your ear, causing you to gasp. 

“Cum on me, please- I need it,” you whined, brows drawing inwards in desperation. Ten seemed to finally hear you, and he let out a desperate little ‘o-hoh, yes, fuck-’ and he was cumming, spilling over your tits, rolling his hips back and forth to make sure he got the most out of his orgasm. 

You groaned pleasurably as Eleven let go of your breasts. A drip of cum dribbled off the curve of your tit and onto Eleven’s hand, who deftly and without hesitation licked it up. 

You were so fucked out and so busy thinking about how covered in spend you were that you barely noticed as Ten decided to collapse softly on top of you both. He snuggled close, not caring about the fact that he was now also covered in his own cum as well, and you huffed out a grunt. 

“Oh, that’s just lovely,” Eleven said sarcastically, now being crushed under two grown people. “Now I’m trapped. I suppose you’re both happy, aren’t you?” 

You giggled out a nod, and you could see Ten trying to contain his laughter as well. 

“Alright,” you say, yawning tiredly. Wow, that came out of nowhere. Suddenly you were oh-so-tired. “Ten minutes of cuddles and then it’s group shower time, yes?” 

“Maybe fifteen,” Ten replied tiredly. 

“Yes, dears,” Eleven added, and you could hear the affectionate roll of his eyes. 

Was it wrong, perhaps, to wish that Eleven would stay forever? Possibly. Was it going to stop you from wishing it quietly to yourself anyway? 

Absolutely not.

[noneorother]

Oh my god, season 2 is The Tales of Crowley Hoffmann

I guess this has to be a series now too. Part 1 l Part 2

When Aziraphale wants to perform a show-stopping magic trick in S2E4, he is shown the "Professor's Nightmare," a rope trick, and references "Prof Hoff himself" at the end of the minisode.

Because we love double meanings so much around here, I decided to actually watch the Powell & Pressburger epic opera film "The Tales of Hoffmann," assuming it was the another P&P easter egg and the other Hoffmann (not the magician) that was being referenced.

One, this movie is unhinged. Two, this season IS The Tales of Hoffmann. Allow me to explain...

There are shot for shot quotes literally everywhere throughout the season.

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Hoffmann watches Stella perform) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Clerk in Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia, Hoffman & Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Crowley & Aziraphale"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Giulietta Banquet scene) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Banquet scene" *By the way Hoffmann wears a goatee for this tale

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue "Dragonfly dance") & Good Omens Season 2 Prologue "Before the Beginning" *This is Stella and un unknown devil drangonfly, NOT Hoffmann

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (End credits through Hoffman's glasses) & Good Omens Season 2 end credit scene.

Stella & Aziraphale. This one makes me laugh.

There are SO MANY MORE, but tumblr has an image limit. Seriously, it's nuts.

2. It seems simple and straightforward, but it's not at all

" Why would ambitious filmmakers simply film an opera? Many admirers of the work of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger have assumed that their decision to make The Tales of Hoffmann (...) was in some way an admission(...) that they couldn’t go on making their edgy, over-the-top melodramas after the rejection and interference they’d suffered (but) there’s a case for considering The Tales of Hoffmann as one of the finest and boldest works that Powell and Pressburger produced, so far ahead of its time as a wholly “composed” film, combining visual and musical elements, that it has still not been fully appreciated... Late in his life, Powell himself said that he thought it was one of the best films that he and Pressburger had made. What makes the film so remarkable is a series of paradoxes: the fact that it virtually reinvented the freedom and fantasy of silent cinema while making full use of Technicolor and a stellar cast of dancers and singers..." - Criterion, The lives of marionettes

3. The structure of the story is the same as the show

Here is the story of the Movie** (Not really the Opera that inspired it) In the prologue, we see the dance of the dragonflies onstage at a ballet. Count Lindoff (very bad dude) is spying on both the principal dancer Stella, and the audience member Hoffmann (who's admiring her). Lindoff is behind the scenery. During her dance, Stella passes a love note to her assistant for Hoffmann. The bad dude intercepts it out of jealousy. During the intermission, Hoffmann goes down to the tavern next door, watched by his sort of buddy in red, Nicklaus. People ask him to tell stories to while away the time, and so he tells 3 stories (actually four but we'll get back to that).

We launch into 3 tales/minisodes in other times and places : 1. The Tale of the Ball of the Automaton where he falls in love with a robot. He is humiliated. 2. The tale of Venice (Giulietta) where he falls in love with a courtesan/double agent who crosses him. 3. The tale of Antonia, where he falls in love with a girl who feels trapped by her living dad, her dead mom and a mysterious bad dude (Lindoff). She is murdered in a ring of fire, but becomes a ghost and is resurrected and sent back to earth. At the end, we snap back to the tavern in the real world. Hoffmann reveals that these three women are all metaphors for how he feels about Stella, his true love. He's drunk and depressed now, thinking she never sent for him after the show. Stella arrives in the tavern looking for Hoffmann, ready to run away, but now accompanied by Lindoff (dressed as an angelic figure) who followed her. She looks to Hoffmann to save her, but he's too blinded by the fact that he doesn't think she loves him back to pick up on the signal. He gives up, and she goes back up the stairs guided by Lindoff. Her assistant (who was bribed by Lindoff at the beginning) is given the go ahead by Lindoff to go back to the tavern and taker over. They close the door to the tavern, while she walks up ethereal stairs with the bad dude. THE END.

The one story that doesn't fit into the minisodes and is told in the real world is Kleinzach. We understand by the end of this one that this is Hoffmann's self loathing about never being good enough for Stella, because Stella is perfect and Hoffmann is ugly and deformed. The main love interest attempts to steal Kleinzach's essence through a mirror by the end. 4. Powell & Pressburger recast four actors in new roles In The Tales of Hoffmann, P&P decided to recast four of the principal actors/dancers from the film The Red Shoes in new roles, wanting to recreate the magic that they brought to the first ballet film. Sound familiar?

5. Crowley is Hoffmann

"The Tales of Hoffmann" original 1881 costume concept for Hoffmann & Crowley costume sketch for S2E3 1827 Edinburgh. Glasses are a really important aspect for Hoffmann in both the opera and the movie versions of The Tales of Hoffmann. Hoffmann is gifted metaphorical magic glasses that he wears to be able to perceive his love in a way they aren't really in real life. In the opera, he wears dark glasses to shut out the real world, not just as a metaphor. Check out a modern day version of the opera's Hoffmann costume :

He's french and slamming a beer but you get it. Crowley also canonically loves watching movies. It would make so much sense that his minisode recountings with him and Aziraphale would resemble different styles of movie that he loves. Seeing as we see him drive away at the end as the last character, an argument could be made for him being the ultimate narrator of the story in season 2.

6. The original American release of The Tales of Hoffman had 14ish minutes cut out of it by the studio. So we all know by now that whole debacle about having the clocks jump 14-15ish minutes during the kiss?

"The Tales of Hoffmann found an audience far wider than expected, despite Korda’s misgivings about the movie’s running time and his decision to cut 14 minutes out of the film for its American release." - Criterion, The Tales of Hoffman

I have been unable to unearth what the difference between the American & British versions of the P&P Tales of Hoffmann is, if you know let ME know. I want to know! _____________________________________

And I HAVE SO MUCH MORE. This is long enough already so I'll save the more detailed stuff for a new post.

**The opera is a whole other beast. You can read about it here, but basically there's a lot more going on in the opera because the composer died before finishing it, and multiple versions exist after the original uncompleted score got lost IN A FIRE. Anyway. Here's part 2

[666writingcafe]

Feeling a Bit Tense?

A (Mildly NSFW) Text Conversation Between Barbatos and MC

Barbatos: *waving emoji*

MC: *gif of someone waving tiredly*

Barbatos: Rough day?

MC: *gif of someone shrugging*

Barbatos: Do you need or want to talk about it?

MC: Should I?

Barbatos: If it will make you feel better, yes.

MC: *keeps typing and erasing messages*

Barbatos: Does this have anything to do with Solomon? If he's been messing with you, I'll be more than happy to talk to him for you.

MC: No need.

Barbatos: Do you genuinely feel that way, or are you just trying to get me to back off?

MC: Regarding this particular issue, he hasn't done anything wrong.

Barbatos: Okay.

Barbatos: So, what sort of "issue" are you dealing with?

MC: I'm not sure how to put it delicately.

Barbatos: Don't worry about sounding prim and proper. Just tell me what's on your mind.

MC: Here goes nothing...

MC: I'd like to get laid.

Barbatos: I see.

Barbatos: And you're worried about doing it with someone from this timeline, aren't you?

MC: I mean...wouldn't that cause a paradox?

Barbatos: Isn't it a bit late for you to start worrying about paradoxes, considering that three of us know your true identity?

MC: You, Diavolo, and/or Thirteen would have figured it out one way or another. We just figured it would be easier to be open about it with you guys than risk ending up dead or in prison.

Barbatos: Fair point.

Barbatos: Anyway, as long as you don't produce something that's not there in your timeline, you should be good to proceed.

MC: Except I don't trust many people here.

Barbatos: Understandable. I feel the same way.

MC: This is probably a pointless question, but have any advice?

Barbatos: I would say take care of it yourself, but that's not going to help much, is it?

MC: I mean, it's taken the edge off, but nothing I use is going to be quite the same as having another living, breathing person with me.

Barbatos: So you're looking for a physical connection.

MC: Kind of?

Barbatos: My next piece of advice would be to arrange a meeting with an escort, but as you've already stated, you're rather wary of most people here, and personally I don't like dealing with them. They ask for WAY too much when they realize that they're servicing the Young Master, and that doesn't just apply to money.

MC: *whistling crow sticker*

Barbatos: Maybe ask one of the brothers?

MC: *no sticker*

MC: We're not NEARLY that close for me to successfully get away with that.

Barbatos: Is there anyone else who lives here that you had some sort of a relationship with in your timeline?

MC: Yes, but they're out of the question.

Barbatos: Not necessarily.

MC: Trust me.

Barbatos: They're members of royalty, aren't they?

MC: *eyes emoji*

Barbatos: Interesting.

MC: Good or bad?

Barbatos: Not bad. Actually mildly impressed.

MC: Thanks?

Barbatos: So...

MC: *questioning sticker*

Barbatos: If you will allow me to be blunt for a moment, how would you like me to fuck you?

MC: *gif of someone spitting out water*

Barbatos: Simply being practical.

Barbatos: I'm not sending you back to Solomon.

Barbatos: The prince is too busy to help with this, sadly.

Barbatos: And I don't trust any of the other royals to not harm you. I want you to be able to return to your timeline in one piece.

Barbatos: Unless you don't trust me?

MC: It's not that.

Barbatos: Then what is it?

MC: In my timeline, I was your first.

Barbatos: Then that's perfect. We'll still keep that part of it accurate. It'd just happen sooner, which isn't a super big deal.

MC: If I didn't know better, I'd think this was your intention all along.

Barbatos: What, to get in bed with you?

MC: *nodding sticker*

Barbatos: I'd be lying if I told you that hasn't crossed my mind once or twice during your stay here so far.

MC: *gif of someone saying 'i knew it'*

Barbatos: What can I say? Like it or not, I'm a creature of desire.

Barbatos: Also...

Barbatos: Your scent has given you away a couple of times, so I figured that I'd had a fair shot if I ever DID want to indulge.

MC: *blushing emoji*

Barbatos: We'll talk more when you return to the castle.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Knightmare In Toronto

Chapter 2: Portal Paradox

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

There was a distinct pain in your head when you rose from your slumber, laid on the couch like a drunkard. A blanket had been draped over your prone form, though you chalked it up to an unusually proactive action you'd taken before your nap. Your perfectly normal, fever-dream nap starring medieval men without food allergies who broke into houses.

That is, until you saw one of those men–a new one with dirty blonde hair, a dark green tunic with tan pants, and... were those face tattoos–sitting in your armchair and your fears were realized: today (at least, you think it's still today) was real and there were more strangers in your house.

Ignoring the pang of discomfort in your neck, you shot up, ready to square up to this new threat. "Who are you?"

"Oh! You're awake," the man smiled, which was incredibly weird for a home intruder. "I'm Twilight."

Twilight… why was that familiar? It almost sounded like a gang name, but you highly doubted the aforementioned situation was even remotely affiliated with gangs—though the odds that he had been watching you sleep were a bit close for comfort.

At your lack of response, Twilight's expression shifted to one of concern. "You alright–?"

"I don't want drugs!" You blurted.

"I repeat, we don't have drugs," Four's head popped in from the kitchen, expression a perfect deadpan.

"Only people on drugs talk about portals!" You shot back as black spots danced in the corners of your vision. "Ain't no portals in Toronto!"

"Toronto?" Twilight looked puzzled in the shrill wake of your outburst. What was this guy, a saint?

"Canada," you finished. He stared at you with a baffled expression and you deadpanned. "How do you not know where that is?"

"Because we are not from your world," another, deeper verse answered. You watched in disbelief as yet another man stepped out of your minuscule kitchen. He was tall, wearing a long silver tunic and black pants. Two crimson stripes lay perpendicular beneath his right eye, and there was another blue marking on his forehead.

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again.

"Drugs."

"That's not–" Four sighed, running a hand down his face like a tired dad. "You need sleep."

"You need Jesus."

"Excuse me?" Asked the tallest man, and you wisely shut up.

Twilight, who had been silently observing the exchange, piped up. "About that, sorry for falling on you."

You blinked. So that's why your head hurt like you chugged some bourbon and fought a moose for territory. "Oh, naw, it's fine, you should see what I deal with at work."

"When you say it like that, I don't think I want to."

Your laugh surprised even you, bubbling up your throat like soda. "Smart."

The newcomer cleared his throat, bringing silence back to the room. "Miss..." he looked to Four, who mouthed something suspiciously close to your name. "(Y/n), I know this may seem impossible to you, but this situation is very much real. I can assure you that no one here is under the influence of… substances."

Damnit, you were hoping you could make that joke a few more times. "Okay, well, he," you pointed at Four. "materialized in my living room and that man," you pointed even more aggressively at Twilight, who had the decency to look sheepish. "apparently fell on me. Speaking of, how are you here?"

"The door was unlocked," the tall man said, and you nearly fell over. "About your garden..."

Your expression turned to one of terror. "Not my petunias..."

"I'm afraid you'll have to direct me in finding replacements as none of us are familiar with this world."

Wait.

"Us...?" You parroted, trying and failing to hide your apprehension.

"About that–" Four began, only to be interrupted when yet another crash rang out in your kitchen, followed by a series of loud whoops, and your greatest fear was once again realized: there were more of them.

"Just how many more of there are you?" You asked in horror.

"Currently five, as we are waiting on Legend, Warriors, Sky, and Hyrule."

Oh god, was your first thought, followed by: who the hell names their children that?

"We got Wild!" Wind introduced. "Five down, four to go!"

You could handle this. You would handle this. Like an adult.

"So... you're not from this world?" You asked the tallest of the three, which seemed to be the leader of the current group.

He nodded sagely "Yes, we are from a land called Hyrule."

...Hyrule? Why was that familiar? It certainly wasn’t a place you knew of, but you didn’t think they were lying.

"You seem conflicted," Four observed dryly.

"Quiet, I'm having my midlife crisis," you said, despite the fact that you were nowhere near your fifties. "You try having medieval men poof into your living room like it's a regular Tuesday."

"Gee, that's oddly specific."

Your eye twitched.

"Four," said the tallest man, effectively regaining control of the situation. "Our apologies for causing you strife, but this situation is quite unique."

"No kidding," you muttered, but being upset wasn't going to solve anything. "Okay, what's your plan then?"

The tallest seemed to hesitate, so Twilight took over. "We were hopin' we could wait here until everyone passes through. For safety."

You couldn’t argue with that; they were a long way from home if your suspicions were correct. "Alright, I can do that."

"Much appreciated," he looked like he wanted to say more, but purposefully chose not to.

You would have said more, but Wind chose that exact moment to appear with yet another man in tow. He was lanky and tall, with yellow hair that reached his midback. His tunic was also blue, though considerably shorter than Wind's, and he had various belts criss-crossing his chest. His most defining feature, however, was the large pink scar marring his left cheek and ear. You tried not to look too hard.

"This is Wild," Wind introduced. "Wild, this is (Y/N)."

'Wild' nodded politely. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," you responded, feeling a bit sheepish. You glanced at the clock and realized it was now past five. "Geez, I really slept in, huh?"

"It was for the best," Twilight offered a wry smile. "Better get so"

You waved him off. "You're fine, I'm alive."

"That is good."

"Wait, what's happening?" Wild cut in with a confused expression. "Where is everyone?"

"They haven't appeared yet," Four responded, though his voice was slightly uncertain. He gestured to you. "They've agreed to let us stay until everyone comes through."

"That's so kind," Wind exclaimed. "I knew you were nice."

You couldn't hold back a soft scoff. "I wouldn't be so trusting, l could be an axe murderer."

"Are you an axe murderer?" asked Four.

"Naw, I prefer maces."

"Well, I'M a pirate," interjected Wind, laying a hand on his chest.

"Oo, shiver me timbers," you said on instinct. Wind laughed raucously, and you caught a few others chuckling along. Maybe this wasn't as bad as your reptile brain had made it out to be...

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out for inspection, missing the curious glances from the other occupants of the room. In the time it had taken to come to terms with this insanity, you'd managed to miss six messages from your bestie, Brianna, who had invited you to an after-work party a few weeks from now. After typing a quick response, you shoved your phone away and stood up. "So, who's hungry?"

This chapter fought me tooth and nail, so I’m glad it’s finally out there for you all! Enjoy and don’t forget to tell me what you think in the comments!

[cellophaine]

Chapter VII: DROP SHOT

Masterlist

Pairing: Art Donaldson x F!Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I'm so so sorry for the late upload! Your girl has been in the trenches mentally and creatively lately 😭

GIF Source:@/birdmans

2007. Stanford.

New year, new semester, and what came with it was a promising fresh start. Despite the mental toll from the disastrous few days spent with your parents, you chose not to address it. You could never get the time you cried over them back, and it was time to move on. Your focus was swiftly redirected to something much more pleasant and exciting: you had started drafting for a new project. 

An inkling of an idea bloomed from the paradoxical of your life. Being on the verge of entering your 20s, you were aware of your inadequacy when it came to love. Yet, you couldn't keep the feeling of knowing and understanding its inner workings and mechanisms from rising above your insecurity. Being a child of parents who weren't very loving and born into the belief that everything was transactional, you thought you knew everything there was about love. There needed to be a form of reciprocation so the relationship could thrive. Love wasn't an infinite resource that you could take and take because, eventually, the other person would grow tired of you and leave. This belief was built into your foundational core, and its development intertwined with yours as you grew up. 

But Art confused you. He gave up his vacation in Vermont to spend time with you and make sure you were okay without the constant reminder that you owed him something. He'd made you feel like you deserved to be cared for without conditions attached. The dismantling of your guarded exterior was slow, yet he had been so patient. You realized you didn't need it when you were with him. 

The connection you shared was something different. It passed the point of infatuation but not quite there at love. Unknown yet so unanimous in its nature that you didn't have to say it out loud. A beautiful thing that was nameless, yet its existence was tangible and real. It lived in the vigorous beats of your heart every time he was close. It ran wild in your bloodstream every time he smiled at you. Its cadence rose and fell with the touches of laughter you shared. 

In a way, Art had become your muse. You started to write about the way Art made you feel, about the way your perception of love had changed, and what it was like to be on the receiving end of it. You would often feel the itch to write, to grasp onto one of the many loose threads that swirled around your mind and follow it to wherever it'd take you. The wandering then materialized on the pages of the notebook he gave you, glistened in the fine ink. Pages after pages, and he knew of none of them. You felt like it was fitting to immortalize him with your words, within the scope of your ability in the only way you knew how. The more you filled the notebook, the closer you came to realizing that you were falling for him, with each walk to the tennis court, with each minute he spent with you at the coffee shop, and outside of that, too. It was scary to be so smitten with him, but you didn't care. He was your only friend, your most trustworthy companion, and no one could compare to that. You declined invitations to go out with Grace and Ashley so you could spend more time with Art. Your world revolved around him like he was the most important person in the world. What else did you need?

You accompanied Art to practice whenever you could, and during late hours, when the soft white lights lit up the court, he taught you how to play. He fixed your stance, adjusted your grip, and showed you the basics. After a few weeks, you could rally with him. You came to every match and cheered him on. You came to Tashi's matches, too, just to spend more time with Art. You never failed to notice that distant look in his eyes as he watched Tashi play, almost like a longing, a hopeless yearning for something he couldn't quite reach. Was it wrong that you wanted Art to look at you that way? Was it selfish of you that you wanted his longing gaze to be on you and only you? Even though when he looked back at you, he would flash you a smile that made you temporarily forget about the pestering question. 

/

The sun was warm on your skin, staving off the brisk wind, but you didn't want to move from your spot in the corner of the court. With the notebook on your lap, you were writing while waiting for Art to finish practice. He was with Robbie, and you could hear his grunts from where you were sitting. In your bag were two admissions to the movie Art told you he had been wanting to see but didn't have the time to check it out. Your excitement and anticipation were barely contained; you had looked forward to surprising him all week.

The gate rattled, and then, a voice called out.

"Let's go!"

That made you look up from your notebook. You watched as the stranger sauntered over in Art's direction.

"Come on, Donaldson, big serve. Big serve!"

Art went to serve but gave up halfway as the newcomer called out again in a teasing tone. Art angled his body to face the new guy, finally acknowledging him. 

"Finish it up, Donaldson. Come on."

Art went for a serve so quick that Robbie couldn't catch on. He turned towards the guy, and the racquet fell limp in his grasp. The stranger opened his arms and walked toward Art, who then walked away and playfully dismissed the gesture. You could see a genuine smile on his face, highlighting the boyish charm in his features. You watched as they started to chase each other through the courts, jumping over the net and other boys on the bench. 

You waited until their chase came to a stop, when they were standing face to face, talking to one another in an effervescent manner. You noted to yourself that this was a new side of Art that you hadn't seen yet. 

Art waved at you as you approached, drawing the newcomer's attention to you. He looked at you up and down as Art introduced the two of you. His big hand enveloped yours in its warmth and callouses. Patrick's eyes had a spark of recognition the moment you told him your name. He smirked, still holding your hand.

"It's nice to finally meet the girl Art's been 'hanging out' with."

He glanced cheekily at Art. 

"What do you mean?"

"Art wasn't being very clear on that, so …"

You looked to Art to see him glaring at Patrick. Your brows furrowed as understanding dawned on you. Your heart thumped harshly in your chest. 

"Oh, right."

Patrick didn't seem to catch onto your confusion. He drew you closer by tugging on your hand, which was still wrapped in his.

"I don't get it. If I was him, I'd waste no time."

Art elbowed Patrick lightly.

"Dude, what about Tashi?"

"Dude, I said if I was you."

You interrupted before Art could say anything.

"You're not wrong. We're just casual friends."

Art looked at you, his gaze inquisitive, but you pretended that nothing was wrong. You put on a cheery voice, hoping Art would overlook what you'd just said.

"Anyway, it looks like you'll be busy. I'll… see you later."

Without waiting for an answer from Art, you turned to Patrick.

"It's nice to meet you, Patrick."

Patrick's reciprocation fell on your ears as you turned around and walked away. You didn't make it too far before Art got a hold of your wrist. 

"Wait, didn't you say you wanted to ask me something?"

You thought about the tickets in your bag, but you shook your head.

"No, it's nothing."

"Are you sure? I'm sorry, but I didn't know Patrick were stopping by today. I haven't seen him in a few weeks as well ..."

You understood his implication perfectly. You patted his forearm. 

"I'm sure. Don't worry about it. Go hang out with your friend."

You made a move to leave, but Art didn't budge, holding you in place.

"Will I see you tomorrow? Tashi's match?"

You nodded without hesitation.

"Of course."

This time, you were able to leave without Art's intervention. Almost immediately, your mind started to whirl, hurtling headfirst into overanalyzing what you had witnessed. You knew that Patrick was Art's friend from the academy. From what Art had told you, they were very close. But you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. 

Each step was heavier than the last as you felt the increasing disappointment weighing on your mind. Instead of going home or to the theatre, you pivoted in the direction of the library. Choosing the most private spot in the computer area, you looked up Art and Patrick's names. A list of articles unfolded themselves before your eyes, inviting you to click on them, with most of them reporting on their victory at the US Junior Open last year. You read through the articles, and your eyes studied every single photo attached. Art and Patrick posing for pictures, kissing their cups, and celebrating their victory. 

But pictures could only tell so much. Opening a new web browser, you went on YouTube and searched for their names. You clicked on the first one you saw, which highlighted their best performances throughout the tournament. They played so well together. They fit like two pieces of a puzzle. What one person lacked, the other would make up for it. They were unstoppable, and it was hard to look away from their exquisite dynamic. 

You watched as the camera zoomed in on the two of them celebrating in the final, clinging to one another as they went down to the ground. You replayed the moment over and over until you could recount it as if you were there. You clicked on another video, then another, going from the beginning of their US Junior Doubles tournament to the very end. You were fixated and only left the library late into the night when fatigue took over. The night went by as you sat by your phone, assignments on your desk, waiting for a call or a text from Art. You went to bed that night disappointed, with a spark of indignation simmering in your mind.  

/

Even though your class ended at 12, and you could've gone home to study, you went to Tashi's match anyway. You hadn't met the girl yet, but you had been to her matches as if you were a Duncanator yourself. But you went because Art would be there, and you wanted to spend time with him. Even though he'd spend most of that time looking at another girl. Despite going to the match of your own volition, your anger still felt justified somehow. 

You came in, and the bleacher was already half filled with people. You looked around to find Art. He saw you first, his long arm reaching up and waving at you. You didn't wave back; instead, you looked down, pretending to watch your steps as you made your way to him. He beamed at you as you inched closer to his seat.

"Hey."

"Hey."

You took the seat next to him without making eye contact with him. Art seemed to catch onto your mood. 

"Look, about yesterday–"

"Where's Patrick?"

He took a brief moment before answering. 

"I ... don't know. I texted him, but he hasn't answered."

"Oh. I was looking forward to seeing more of him today."

Still refusing to look at Art, you trained your gaze toward the court. At that, he sat up straight. 

"What do you mean by that?"

"I like him. He seems like a fun guy."

You turned your head to look at him. You could almost see the thoughts written on his face, and your tense moment was interrupted by an onslaught of cheer as Tashi made her appearance. You used that moment to look away, to direct your attention to Tashi and clap for her. But it didn't stop the heat from spreading through your skin and burning your cheeks. You knew what you were doing was petty, but at that moment, all you cared about was getting back at Art. 

The match commenced with bated breath and tension so heavy you could feel it in the air. Tashi's usual assertiveness was replaced by a nervous energy. She usually met each volley with precision and confidence, but right now, it was because she had to. You had watched her play enough to tell the difference. And in a blink of an eye, you almost missed it. The air shifted with Tashi as she went down to the ground with a sharp cry. The sight and sound were so visceral that you sprang from your seat, your mouth parted in shock as you watched Tashi writhe on the ground, hugging her knee. Her cries were piercing in the dead quiet of the court, and before you could say anything to Art, he took off. 

You followed his blurred movements and watched as he jumped over the net to get to Tashi. Your eyes glued on them as Art put Tashi's head on his lap; his mouth moved, whispering things you couldn't hear over the rising whispers around you.

The audience dispersed after a while. You stood outside of the rec centre where Tashi was taken, debating whether you should go in or not. After another long moment of consideration, you sucked in a breath and entered the building. After asking for directions, you went down the corridor and looked at each room before you found Tashi on a bed with her arm on her forehead. Art sat on a chair next to the bed she was resting on and was partially shielded by her, but he saw you. He squeezed her arm, telling her he would be right back. You instinctively stepped back from the opening of the door, not wanting Tashi to spot you. Even with what she was going through right now, you doubted that she cared. It was purely from the fact that you weren't ready to be confronted by what you'd been suspecting.

"How is she doing?"

You whispered. Art shook his head, his lips flattened into a grim line. 

"Not good."

"What can they do for her?"

"Not much. They can't tell until they can get the x-rays from the hospital. We're waiting for the ambulance right now." 

You nodded. Behind the outline of Art's body, you could see Tashi. Crestfallen, scared, if the impatient shakes of her uninjured leg were any indication.

"Is there ... anything I can do?"

You didn't even know why you offered. Still, you felt like you needed to do something, to be useful even though nothing in this situation pertained to you. 

"No, nothing. I'll stay with her to make sure that she's okay." 

You resigned with a nod. 

"Alright. Call me later, okay? Let me know how she's doing."

He inclined his head in agreement and went back to Tashi without sparing a second glance at you. Your heart chipped a little at that, but you brushed it off. Art cared about her, and there was nothing wrong with that. They were friends. You'd do the same for Grace and Ashley. To feel jealous was to be irrational, and you didn't want that. But was your inkling of doubt really unreasonable?

You were about to round the corner when Patrick almost ran into you. He murmured an apology before taking off. He stopped in front of the door you were at just moments ago. You were frozen in place, hearing Patrick's desperate pleas, Tashi's angry cry, and, at last, Art's thunderous shout echoed down the hallway.

"Patrick, get the fuck out!!"

You had never heard him like that. Angry, with a territorial edge to it. You forced yourself to walk away; the need to withdraw into yourself once again overwhelmed your mind despite your conscious effort not to think about what'd just happened. But you couldn't help it. 

Later that night, there was no phone call, not even a text. Art's silence was a knife that dug deep into your heart, but like always, you ignored it, even though you knew it had never been a good idea.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! I'd love to read your thoughts on the story!

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[inferno-0]

King Ghidorah x Kaiju!Reader /Headcanons/

────────────────────────────

Sorry for my English

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* Although he was banished from the so-called throne on the volcano, he was still looking for a territory to live in. (unfortunately for Godzilla). But he didn't expect the presence of another Titan at this place.

* The three-headed Kaiju was really shocked that you didn't challenge him. It's just that he accidentally wandered into your island, where you lived your days in peace. It was strange that Ghidorah didn't sense your presence in this place.

When they met, all three Heads were ready to attack, but instead received a rhythmic growl as if they were invited.

* Ghidorah was still alert when he was asleep or didn't "pay attention" to you. But you continued as you did your business.

No screaming, no assault.

Monster Zero believed until the end that you were up to something, given your quiet behavior around it.

But the more they analyzed you, the more they learned and understood.

* Still, it has dawned on the Kaiju that you are not one of those who will fight to the end for the land or at least part of it.

You'd rather share it to avoid slaughter. But this silence that was between you is very tense and you had to make contact with the Alpha Titan.

* If in the first days they avoided it, now they themselves need communication deep down. And it seems that an unknown person heard them, sending you with a fish in your mouth.

All the food you brought them, Ghidorah carefully examined and sniffed.

But there was nothing.

Regular food, fresh and large.

* Kaiju understood this time that you want to establish contact with him for further life on this island, so that there are no paradoxes.

All the Three Heads were happy in their own way, but only Kevin showed it, the others hid it behind a mask of neutrality in your direction.

* For a while, you just shared a growl or a nod of your head with each other. Later, it grew to a deeper level. From soft rumblings to poking heads in the neck. Due to the fact that Ghidorah is a rather large Titan, he has to bend down to get body contact from you.

Ichi and Ni are reluctant to do this, unlike Kevin, who is eager to come straight to you.

* The middle and right head (Ni) can only give you peace when the entire area is asleep. After all, they have their own authority, which must be adhered to.

* On normal days, you often fly above the clouds, trying to stay out of Godzilla's sight.

* If you're an underwater Titan, it's much harder to navigate the seas without being detected. Of course, you've made it clear to the others that you're on the path of peace, but Ghidorah has to prove it somehow, or take to the skies again from prying eyes.

* Your relationship has greatly affected the Monarch, who has reached the two of you as well. Of course, they didn't go unnoticed, receiving lightning in the face and your loud scream, which tried to stop the attack from the Titan.

* Actually, it was considered a symbiosis, but with you it is something more.

* Going back to your interactions, Ni and Ichi love to complain. Unlike Kevin, who just stares blankly at your reaction, or even into the distance.

* Your gentle growl calms them down to some extent. Especially the praise that boosts the Titan's ego.

* Ichi was of course planning a second attack, after hearing very nice phrases from you, which motivated him to do it again, but your hard paw slap on the face made itself felt.

* Ni, partly silent next to you. He doesn't really want to show his true nature in front of your eyes. Sometimes he can't control his irritation at anything and everything.

*And San... , it's just San. He's glad it's all gone, and he doesn't have to obey his "mindmates" and get bitten by the horns.

───────────────────────────

Initially, I wanted to lay out one shot with Rodan. I think he'll wait until the next day.)

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

🎵 Whoooo wants a nice little short 'n sweet post-Prime one shot with Sonic and Tails and some angst and also fluff and cuddles and nightmares and sadness and cuteness and the implementing of that one headcanon from the post I made about Sonic getting more cuddly and clingy when he's hurt or upset??? 🎵

Sonic Prime - Healing Hugs

Something had happened in the cave with Sonic. Tails was absolutely certain of it.

At first, it had just been pleasant changes, pleasant surprises. Sonic had suddenly switched to being a 100% team player, had started paying attention to each and every thing Tails instructed, and seemingly communicated with Shadow just as the Ultimate Lifeform arrived out of nowhere to Chaos Control the Paradox Prism to who-knows-where.

Then there had been the more weird changes.

Every time Tails opened his mouth, Sonic would drop everything to listen to every word with laser focus, even if it was about something as simple as what he was going to get for dinner or some cool comics he'd read. He was giving a lot more hugs, too, far more than usual. Sonic used to be a lot more selective about physical affection, but now, Tails couldn't seem to get through 30 minutes of a day without his older brother scooping him up in an embrace, however brief. Not that he was complaining, it was nice.

He kept catching the hedgehog lying around in the grass, fingering the green leaves with utter delight in his eyes. Once he found him on the beach, sitting in a palm tree and singing some kind of pirate-y sounding song. Another time he found him wandering slowly around the woods nearby, talking to the flickies about how pretty the trees were.

Something was off, but Tails couldn't put his finger on it. From his perspective, he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary happen during the battle in the cave, but Sonic's change in behavior made it painfully obvious something had.

Especially when the more negative changes started manifesting.

Not negative in a sense that Sonic was doing anything wrong. But he seemed . . . a little rattled. Some of his hugs were far more than just quick side squeezes. Sometimes he'd stare at Tails with an oddly pensive, faraway look in his eyes.

In bed, one night about a week after the cave incident, Tails found himself tossing and turning. These thoughts were driving him up the wall with how often they'd been occupying his mind lately.

He wanted so badly to sit down with Sonic and ask him what happened. He knew something had happened. But whether Sonic was willing to talk about it was another question entirely. He knew something was different, but he also knew his brother. Sonic didn't like uncomfortable conversations. If he felt unsafe, he would run.

Tails knew better than to confront him with questions that Sonic would likely not want to answer. If he'd wanted to tell Tails what was going on, what was different, he probably would've told him already.

With an exhausted sigh, Tails gave up trying to sleep and sat up in bed, casting a quick glance at the digital clock on his nightstand.

3:47 a.m.

Great. Even when I'm not working on a project, I STILL end up sleep-deprived. He smirked. At least Sonic can't get ticked at me this time, it's not my fault.

Speaking of the Blue Devil, he was right down the hall. Conked out on the couch, where he often slept. In fact, he'd been sleeping there every night for the past week.

Since he couldn't sleep, anyway, Tails slipped out of bed and crept down the hall, having memorized which boards creaked and which ones didn't. He half-hoped Sonic was awake so he'd have someone to talk to, but as he emerged into the living room, he saw his brother sound asleep, half-curled on his side.

Tails blinked and looked closer.

Sonic was asleep, but . . . he was also clinging extra tightly to his pillow. And he looked . . . incredibly stressed.

Was he having a bad dream?

Tails took a couple steps towards the couch until he stood right beside it. In past experiences where he'd found his brother having a nightmare, talking it out rarely helped. Sometimes even waking him up didn't help, either. He usually just wound up disoriented and panicking, and sometimes even ran off to deal with his feelings alone out in the wilderness.

Tails really didn't want him to leave. He also didn't want him to be alone.

He reached out and ever so gently placed his hand over Sonic's clenched fist, both ungloved.

One thing he had discovered about his brother during hard times like this was that he became more clingy. On the rare occasion he was visibly upset, he'd sometimes come up and just hug Tails without a word. When he was sick or injured somehow (and actually allowing himself to be taken care of), he tended to snuggle more. If he was in enough pain, he'd hold onto Tails as tightly as he could. Sometimes he'd do the same with their other friends, but Tails was always his go-to.

Not that it happened very often. Tails only knew these things because he'd known Sonic for most of his life. Sonic had raised him. He'd seen more of Sonic than anyone else had.

Now, he rubbed a finger over his brother's fist for a moment, then very carefully tugged the pillow out of Sonic's unconscious grasp. He set it softly on the floor, then carefully clambered onto the couch next to him, lay down, and hugged him tightly.

Without waking up, Sonic wrapped his arms around him in return and held him close, burying his face between Tails's ears with a barely audible whimper.

Tails could feel his brother's heartbeat racing, so he snuggled in closer and softly began to purr.

And, with time, he felt Sonic start to calm down.

A couple minutes went by, and his heart rate slowed down just a bit. The tension coiled throughout his entire body started to unwind, and his spiked-up quills lowered slightly in a more relaxed position. His ears were still kinda droopy, but he seemed a lot more restful than he had a few minutes ago.

Tails smiled, still bundled up tightly against Sonic. And his smile only grew wider when he felt his brother start purring, too.

There was something infinitely comforting about being held, about snuggling with his brother, the person who loved him to the moon and back. The person he loved in exactly the same way. For those moments, the very problems that had been keeping Tails awake half an hour earlier seemed to fade. He was here, Sonic was here, no words were spoken or needed, and they would be okay.

Tails slept soundly for the rest of the night.

-

The sound of flickies singing from the treetops woke Sonic the next day. He blinked blearily as his eyes came into focus, and he realized that Tails had joined him sometime during the night.

Once upon a time, waking up to find him right there had made him jump. It didn't anymore.

He smiled, carefully adjusting one hand so he could stroke his little brother's bangs and give him a tiny scratch behind one ear. Tails mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, and snuggled closer in Sonic's chest.

He grinned wider. Tails hadn't been snuggly to this level in a while. Granted, he'd always been the more snuggly one of the two of them, but still. It kind of reminded Sonic of the first couple years he'd been taking care of Tails, when the kit was between 3 and 4 years old.

His smile faded a little as he thought of Nine at that age, still alone, still being bullied and hurt, with no one to save him and show him the love and care he deserved.

He could only hope that the other Shatterverse variants were showing him such kindness now. The thought that he would never get to see him again made his heart ache in a way he couldn't quell.

Sonic studied Tails's sleeping face, noting the intense similarities and differences between him and Nine. He wondered whether Nine had always existed even before the Shatter event, as a part of his little brother that Tails would never bring to light. Was it the same with Mangey and Sails?

A tiny snort escaped him against his will as he thought about whether Mangey's existence was an implication that a part of Tails just wanted to go a little feral. Sometimes he couldn't blame him.

His suppressed laugh had Tails stirring, blinking open his big blue eyes. He looked back at Sonic, grinning sleepily. "G'morning."

Sonic ruffled his bangs again, smiling as Tails giggled. "G'morning, little buddy."

Stop calling me that!

He froze at the memory of Nine's angry shout, and Tails clearly saw it.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a gentle, inquiring frown, slowly sitting up.

Sonic sighed as he sat up as well, leaning back to stretch, then pulled his little brother close again. "I've got a story for you, bud," he admitted, deciding it was about time to open up about what had really happened in the cave.

Tails gazed up at him with surprise, but then smiled and nodded.

"I'm listening," he replied quietly.

AO3 version

Did I come up with this while hugging a giant pillow during my nap earlier today? Maybe :3

I also maybe just really wanted to implement that headcanon somewhere teehee

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

Soldat’s fairy

~ Chapter 2

pairing: winter soldier x reader / bucky barnes x reader

general warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Dark Elements!! HYDRA!! (Dub Con implied but not really and NOT FROM BUCKY), Winter Solider, Mind Control, se-xual in-tercourse. forced relationship forced procreation (HYDRA!!), ANGST - (this is my first time writing something like this so please let me know if I should more warnings)

chapter warnings: mentions of crying, mentions of blood, gun shot, bullet injury, suggestive, nothing graphic but hinting at smut, mentions of virginity (+ general warnings)

words: 1.2k

a/n: hi everyone, i really hope you liked the first chapter, things accelerate in this chapter, thank you for your support, hope you like it. please please read the warnings before continuing.

<- Previous Chapter

-> Next Chapter

DO NOT COPY MY WORK!!

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Your room, no matter how nicely decorated, it was a prison, you were being held against your wishes and you were all alone.

Since Soldat left your room, you had no idea about time passing, there were no windows in the room you were kept in, no clocks, only food and water was given to you. You screamed, cried, but no use.

You were on lying on your bed, tired and scared. The door opened and your alarmed body grabbed the nearest thing you could to throw at whoever entered.

A pillow won’t be much of use against the winter soldier. The man was standing in front of you but no words were spoken, the door was closed behind.

All of sudden, you looked at him, really looked at him, that was when you noticed the bruises and cuts and marks on his body, his metal arm, his hair, his face. Some of the bruises were we very fresh, as if…

“What happened? Are you hurt?” You asked the man, with a shaky voice. But you didn’t get a response.

“Those bruises…” You bravely took a step towards Soldat. The seemed like a living paradox to you, his hard exterior but his eyes… his eyes were dying to tell a different story. You took another step closer and the man finally broke his silence.

“Don’t” He looked down at the floor and clenched his fists. Was he angry? “Don’t come near”

“You’re hurt-“

“STOP!”

You took a step back when he yelled. Soldat was fuming, his metal hand clenched so hard it screeched. The air got thicker in the room.

“I have orders to…”

“Yeah- yeah I know” you answered feeling your heart beating faster.

“I cannot refuse orders”

“Please…” Soldat looked into your eyes to notice the pain, fear and helplessness. He wasn’t supposed to feel emotions, but your eyes… it reminded him of- of himself. Or maybe some version of himself, not that he remembered.

The man wanted to fight, not you, not anyone else but himself, wanted to fight his instincts, fight his sudden want to protect you.

“Do they hurt you? Those men? My father?” He didn’t respond but his silence spoke louder.

“I didn’t follow orders.” He informed.

“So they- so they hurt you?”

“I always follow orders, I have to”

“They why didn’t you? Last time when you were here… why didn’t you follow your orders?” The question seemed to have stir something in the man. He didn’t know how to respond. That was the question he had asked himself when he left your room, when your father’s men tortured him, he kept asking himself that same question. Why didn’t he follow orders.

“I…”

“Why don’t you run away? Do you support my father? Do you want to help him?” The man gave you no reply and you continued “They are holding you here aren’t they? Run away.”

“I can’t, I can’t escape, I- I had tried”, the man told you

“Maybe I can help you, maybe we can help each other?” At that he moved closer to you. Why were you being kind to him? No one was kind to him. Soldat grabbed your arm, pulled you closer. He stared into your eyes as if trying to get a look into your soul, those usually rageful eyes had something else in them.

“Why? Why will you help me?” You didn’t know how to answer him

“These people… they hurt you, they- you should not help them” He sighed

“I have to comply”

There was a knock on your door as you gasped. Another knock and then the doors opened to an emerging figure of your father, followed by few of his men.

“Daughter, I see you’re being stubborn, do you not understand your purpose yet? You have to bear the soldier’s child”

“I won’t, you can’t do this to me”

Pierce nodded to one of his men who took out a gun and you felt your heart stop. Would your father order to kill you? Well after everything you had no trust left in your body, at least not for Pierce. Then something strange happened, the man pointed his gun to the winter soldier who tried to attack the man but Alexander Pierce stopped him.

“Do not move Soldat” Pierce ordered. He motioned at his men to hold Soldat down. The winter soldier could easily overpower them if he wanted to but he was bound by Pierce’s orders.

“Now daughter, do you want me to blow this man’s brains out?” Everything was happening too fast, it was all too much you could hardly process anything, all you knew you didn’t want this man to be harmed. You took a deep breath.

“You wouldn’t kill him father, he is too precious for you, you told me yourself he is the key to your victory” Pierce laughed at that.

“Looks like you’re smarter than I thought, still not smart enough” Your father gave his men a signal to shoot and in an instant he shot Soldat’s leg. You screamed. There was blood, actual blood in front of you.

“I won’t kill him, but I sure can break him, do you want that?” Soldat wasn’t looking at you, he was staring at the floor. He was used to torture, it hurt but he was used to it.

“Don’t, don’t hurt him” your voice was shaking. “Please father- I- I’ll do it”

“That’s better” Pierce had a satisfied grin on his face. “Right then, hope you do what’s needed daughter, we’ll take Soldat to the med bay and then when he comes back, you better keep your word, or I have other methods, because this time the blood won’t be his”

At that Soldat looked up at you, he could understand the meaning behind Pierce’s words and he didn’t like it one bit, Soldat himself was used to torture but you… you seemed soft, untouched, he didn’t want you to get hurt.

The men took him away for now and one of them did a lousy job of cleaning the blood from your floor. Soon you were left alone in the room and you broke down into tears. You were terrified and disgusted.

After a while when soldier returned, he found you sitting on the edge of your bed looking defeated. You didn’t look at him, and he kept standing beside you.

“I guess, you were right, we can’t run from this” You looked up at him finally and then to his wounded leg. “Does it hurt?”

“It will heal soon” He replied with a gravelly voice. You nodded and gripped your bed sheet tightly, thinking what was about to happen.

“I… I don’t want to hurt you” Soldat confessed. “But…”

“But there is no way out.” You gave him a sad smile, tears welled up in your eyes.

“I have… I have not done this before, I mean, I- I haven’t been with someone” you told the man as you got up from your bed and stood in front of him. “Please um- please be gentle” your lips wobbled as you uttered those words. Soldat moved closer to you and held your face with his flesh hand.

“I don’t want to hurt you” He repeated his words “…and that is why I have to do this- or they will hurt you.“ You looked into his eyes, there was softness in them “I won’t hurt you” He promised.

Even though you felt you were being surrounded by darkness, the man in front of you gave you hope. You didn’t understand why but you didn’t feel like you were alone anymore, and neither did he.

———————

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taglist: @vicmc624 @floralwsloki @cjand10 @420-hun

[divineerdrick]

Homestuck: Beyond Canon Upd8 for August 11, 2024

So I've heard we have an upd8 today! And we've got a news post too! Right off the bat, we'll have another chapter "a little later in the month." Guess I'll have to keep my ear to the ground. Not sure there's an extension out there that can determine when the team upd8s a Ren'py game attached to their website.

I haven't been able to support the Patreon for a bit, so I'm unaware of the music previews James mentions. His little spiel makes me worried he might go Grimdark at some point . . .

We've still got another collab in the works, but we don't have the details yet. And yeah, I've been experiencing heat where I live that definitely slowed me down a peg.

On to the upd8!

Holy crap! Year 4!

Even with the realizations she made before, apparently this is still really slow going.

Nanna!

Oh wow! She's literally growing up! Wherever she is, she's physically aging in what is probably real time. Here's a shot from the last blog for comparison.

Her hair and horns are both longer, she's taller in frame, her neck is longer, and her eyes and mouth sit smaller on her face. Somehow though, she's still fitting into her outfit. Wonder if they're letting her alchemize new clothes?

Oh man! We've apparently missed some reconciliation with Eridan, John, and Kanaya! I feel especially robbed about missing out on the Kanaya portion. But we all know who the "HER" is. Though it would be a hilarious fake out if it was Nepeta or Feferi!

Hah! We apparently have both Nannasprites here!

Vriska does not say no to cookies!

We get another callback to Vriska's previous adventures as she remembers talking to John about their relationships with their ancestors. But she apparently doesn't understand how humans can have family ties. At least she seems more curious about it now.

Of course Nanna would have to describe having a child as having "novelty". It's nice to see a little bit more background on this version of Jane.

Vriska just cannot get past the idea why anyone would put up with a baby given the unavoidable accidents.

Nannasprite has apparently seen everything Jane has accomplished and is, at the very least, curious how things might have turned out if she hadn't settled down.

Wow. That had to really suck. Nana never felt loved or even wanted before she settled down. That might have been why finding someone who did love her and want to start a family with her caused her to change all her plans.

This is another attitude that Vriska previously would never have considered. She was always certain she had to be best, had to surpass every expectation, and very much felt she had a destiny to fulfill. The idea that someone would just "give up" on all that and do their own thing is more alien to her than humanity itself.

Wow! Vriska was actually mindful she might have lost her cool and genuinely apologized! She is learning!

And some genuine affection here too.

Wait! That's broken Paradox Space! Is Vriska facing Game Over Terezi?

And these are Vriska's typing quirks! Wait! Does she have to come to terms with Game Over Vriska? AKA (Vriska)? Does she have to reconcile with herself?

Wait! Mindfang? Does she have to come to terms with her relationship with Mindfang? If that's the case, no wonder she's not getting anywhere. Everything else has probably been about figuring out what the other person wants. But Vriska's problem was she was always trying to live up to Mindfang, an extremely poor example and role model. In this case, she almost certainly need to stop caring about what Mindfang might want.

Oh! It's not Mindfang! It's Vriska's idea of her, all wrapped up in her relationship with her lusus. It's basically both of Vriska's parental figures rolled into one.

She definitely needs to not give a shit about what this entity wants! While there is value in understanding who her lusus was and who Mindfang was, there is no value in engaging with them. This is all about Vriska learning how trying to live up to their needs and expectations, instead of living up to her own desires, caused her so much pain and heartache.

Heh! "Momfang."

Wow! They really are wrapped into one!

Also I can't decide if this reminds me more of the Venom symbiote or Conceptual Hair.

It is important that Vriska recognizes that these two entities were formative to her. But I really feel like that's all there is here. Understanding who they were and the impact they had on her life. The next revelation is that this doesn't need to define her.

Momfang's words echo a lot of Vriska's own thoughts and words on death and murder. Whether she, or indeed we, like it or not, Vriska does need to forgiver herself for her past. But not by accepting the violent environment as justification. She needs to understand that while she has extenuating circumstances for what she did, Vriska still did those things. She has to come to terms with that and forgive herself for it.

Vriska has learned from Vrissy! Suffering is not what makes you strong. Just as the muscles of a body builder tend to be weaker, more limited, and even useless compared to those of an athlete, suffering often comes with just as much that weakens you. Strength always has to come from within. Someone's strength who gets there through finding something or someone to be strong for is just as valid as someone who gets there through pursuit of an ambition is just as valid as someone who gets there through hardship is just as valid as, well, any path that gets you there. It's a bitter pill if you're the one who's suffered. But it is the truth.

Even on Alternia, none of this was ever fine. Even by their standards, her childhood was full of abuse and violence.

Man! The team is determined to make Momfang's twisting form as creepy as they can for mostly still images!

I don't know if Beforan Lusus could be like this, or if this quirk was part of Scratch's work. But we clearly see that some Lusus just weren't good guardians, despite coevolution. "But so are some parents!" I hear you cry! That's still different. While it's possible in the vast variety of humanity to be raised by a true monster, most abusive parents are still human. There are paths victims of abuse can take to find comfort or even peace and understanding because of this.

Vriska's "mom" is literally a spider, an animalistic predator. "HUNGRY. KILL. FUCK. EAT. FEED." On earth, even when spiders demonstrate sentience and intelligence, it is from an entirely different evolutionary path. We could not relate to the mind of a spider. And neither can Vriska.

There are many reasons why a parent may become abusive.

Vriska's was abusive because that helped it find prey.

Yep. This is not about what Momfang wants. It's about what Vriska wants. "And wasn't considering it now, to 8e clear." Again. Spider!

Huh! But that doesn't stop Vriska's image of Mindfang from being curious.

Vriska knows part of what's wrong. But as most of us know all too well, knowing what a problem is only the first step in fixing it. All you can do is try to catch yourself when "you're doing it again," while also trying to not make that become something you're constantly on guard about.

"Oh my god. Tavros was right!!!!!!!!!"

As was Nannasprite! You're supposed to learn form each of these "sessions" and use that to help with the next.

Now I'm sure that "h8r" is talking about Terezi.

We've often believed that what we read of Mindfang's journal was tame. Homesmut Mindfang is apparently canon.

No Momfang! No! You do not get to use Mayor callbacks!

"What will you do?"

Vriska knows what she wants. How does she prove it? Killing or being eaten seems like it's just more of the same. This could just be as simple as walking away.

Only way to win is not to play. It was always a false binary. There was always another option, it was just a case of seeing it.

Happy Vriska is best Vriska!

Yep! Just walk away!

Yeah, no! No hug for you!

Can't decide if I like "Gestalt of Rivia" or "Hierarchy of Arachneeds" more!

Let's not stop there though! I feel like we know enough now about how this works to start making some predictions.

So the Cueball suggests Scratch. He also played a great role in Vriska's life and actions. How Vriska needs to grow past him is trickier. Scratch was only ever using her, and I'm pretty sure Vriska knows this. Now she's dealt with Momfang, though, I don't think she'd get hung up on him. He is considerably cannier than Momfang, but this still feels like a misdirect. It could potentially lead to Rose. She's the other Hero of Light after all, and she and Vriska have both Scratch and the Cueball in common. I'm willing to bet Vriska didn't take enough advantage of Rose's presence on the meteor. This might create a scenario where she just has to learn from her fellow Hero.

Then we have a feather. This is probably the hardest to draw any conclusions from. The only character in Homestuck connected to feathers is Dave. Another potential hero to learn from. It's just hard to imagine not having to reconcile with Terezi, and I'm pretty sure she's not the 8ball. But I also can't think of how the feather connects her to . . .

Scales! It's a bit of a reach, but scales and feathers do have a connection. Also, why would Vriska have a feather? Maybe it's a quill that she used in her FLARPing days? Either way, I'm gonna say the feather is Terezi. Mostly because it's what I want.

The 8ball will be (Vriska). Vriska needs to come to terms with her Game Over self. She needs to realize that it not only was she wrong to look down on her, but that (Vriska) was always right to just look for happiness. (Vriska) was always valid and deserves to lose those parenthesis. Even if they are really convenient.

[nykuna]

THE IRONY OF FATE

Chapter 1 : The beginning of the end.

pairing : Ryomen Sukuna x fem reader

cw : angst, mention of drugs and alcohol, slow burn, romance

synopsis : After leaving all your bad memories behind in your homeland, you leave the country with your best friend to start afresh. The ghosts of your past seem to keep haunting you, but when you finally get your life back together, your new-found stability seems to be shattered when you meet this mysterious stranger one night.

Is he a blessing or a cruel joke of fate?

jjk alternate universe : no jujutsu sorcerers, everyone is human.

The sun starts to set when your alarm goes off, 10PM, working nights really starts to take its toll on your health, but it's not like you have a choice anyway.

Staring at the alarm on your phone, you feel unable to get out of bed; you worked a double shift the night before and only got a few hours' sleep, plus a strange feeling is tormenting you. Something in your guts is telling you that today’s gonna be a bad day, but whatever, you’re used to them now.

You work as a barmaid in one of the city's fanciest clubs, and your boss has always insisted that you come to work dressed, since it's not unusual for you to serve celebrities of all kinds.

~

Once you're ready, you finally emerge from your room to find your roommate Lily. She’s your best friend since childhood, and you've both decided to move to another country to start afresh after a series of unfortunate events in your native land.

You've barely had time to get to the living room when she rushes from her room to show you her phone.

[boxing championships in tokyo, professional fighting…]

You could only read the first sentence when she explains her excitement seeing that you're having trouble keeping up.

« It was yesterday y/n!! They might still be here today, i’m ready to bet they’re gonna go to your club tonight… » she chirps, now you understand where she’s going, she has the biggest crush on one of the fighters hence the excitement.

« Let me guess, you're coming tonight and waiting for him to arrive to shoot your shot am i right?" You laughed, she pouts at you while you put your shoes on. « , i could use a pretty boxer to change my mind, if he does come, better hope he brings a friend » you wink before leaving the apartment.

~

You finally arrive at work a little early. You decide to sit at the bar and watch the show unfold before your eyes. The lights are dimmed and you're watching a group of men who seem to be chatting away, when something catches your eye.

You must have missed the news, but a group of traditional dancers perform fire-wielding choreography to music that seems to send the audience into a kind of trance.

You don't know if it's because you're tired, but the whole thing seems almost unreal to you, and you lose yourself in your thoughts, watching the sparks fly over your head.

You used to love that kind of performance, especially fireworks, that was his thing. It had become your tradition, whenever something went wrong, you went to light fireworks on the beach and laugh till you dropped. Fire had always been paradoxically comforting for you, but now that he's gone, it seems the bright lights have nothing to offer you anymore.

You're still reminiscing about all those precious memories when your colleague pulls you out of your thoughts.

"You should go and get ready y/n, your shift starts in 5 minutes!" Suguru tells you, smiling gently.

Back in reality, your eyes open wide as you realize you've been in your thoughts for 20 minutes, you hurry to join Suguru behind the bar, then into the break room to change and finally start your shift. But the foreboding you've had since waking up doesn't seem to want to leave you in peace, something hovers in the air and you're unable to put your finger on it.

For the next few hours, you'll be making drinks and chatting with customers, and even though you don't like wasting your time on trivia, you know that by doing so you can guarantee yourself a generous amount of tips.

Your night finally brightens up when you see Lily walk through the door, thanking the bouncer and walking towards you with a big smile.

« Y/n !! How’s your night going ? Seen anyone…? » she asks, looking around in the hope of finding what or who she's come for.

"If he's here he's not in the main room, i would’ve seen him, but suguru told me there was a table upstairs that had ordered a huge amount of drinks, and that a lot of girls seem to be milling around..." you explain while cleaning glasses.

« oh my god so it might really happen…I'll wait for you to finish, and then would you come upstairs with me?" she asks, making sweet eyes.

« Obviously, I'm not going to let you into the lion's cage on your own," you smirk and go back to serving your customers.

~

Finally finished with your shift, you head into the break room to find Suguru slumped on one of the sofas.

"Do you want to go for a smoke? I can't stay longer tonight..." He says, handing you a cigarette.

"Hell yes, I've been looking forward to this all evening" You tell him as you untie your hair and put on your jacket.

You head for the rear exit to avoid the chaos of the main smoking room, as you pass through the door, the cold wind engulfs your lungs and wakes you from your emerging fatigue.

You walk with your coworker to the nearest bench and ask him how his evening went.

"Not great, the boss is really becoming unbearable. I wonder if I'm going to start looking for a new club to work at to be honest." he says with his head in his hands, looking really exhausted, depressed even.

"What has he done now for you to come to this? And if you leave, I don't know how I'll cope, you're the light of my nights" you try to cheer him up by making him laugh, but there's some truth in what you say. You've been working here for two years now, it was Suguru who helped you get hired, and he's now one of the people dearest to your heart, no longer just a colleague but a true friend.

Even so, you couldn't help noticing that his mental health seemed to be plummeting lately. He's not the type to rant about his feelings, but you think it might have something to do with his ex-girlfriend who left him a few months earlier for another man.

"I'll be honest, it was never my dream to work here, I had bigger plans but I met her and dropped everything for her, she wanted someone stable so I took the first job that came along and now here I am, she's dumped me after I sacrificed everything for her, and I have to put up with an abusive boss who only increases our hours without paying us of course."

You sit beside him in silence, this being the first time you've heard him confide in you so much. You're grateful that he feels comfortable enough to tell you all this, but part of you can't help worrying. How much was he repressing his feelings, and for how long?

"I don't know the whole story, but what I am sure of is that you shouldn't stand by and watch your youth and dreams slip through your fingers, by staying here you're letting her steal a part of you. I know that whatever your dreams are, you're capable of making them come true and-" before you can finish, his phone rings.

He looks at the name on the screen and apologizes sincerely, but explains that he must take the call at all costs. You tell him there's nothing to worry about and that you'll see him the day after tomorrow as you're off tomorrow. He kisses you on the cheek and thanks you for your words before leaving for his car parked a little way off.

Now you find yourself alone in the dark night, lit only by the club's neon lights. You realize that you've never smoked a cigarette and decide to have a quick one before joining Lily, your thoughts continuing to orbit around what suguru has told you.

You reach into your bag and pockets for your lighter, but it's nowhere to be found. You realize Suguru must have left with it.

You wander around, hoping to find someone who can lend you one without having to go to the smoking room.

After a good 5 minutes wandering around without success, you spot smoke around the corner of the building. amen.

You move towards the figure, but can't help realizing just how imposing he is, as you gradually see him appear through the fog.

You just stand there, maybe it's the sizzling red lights that plunge you back into the memories you're trying hard to forget, or maybe it's this tall, mysterious stranger standing alone, upright with his back to you. Your mind is probably playing tricks on you, but you can't help feeling some kind of attraction to him. Your foreboding is tormenting you more than ever, and it doesn't bode well.

"You're just going to stand there?" A deep, stoic voice forces you out of your thoughts. When you look up, you realize that he's now facing you, but he doesn't even deign to look at you. His aura is intoxicating, the attraction you felt earlier almost unbearable. He's wearing a black hoodie and matching jogging pants. Your eyes trace his body back to his face. Tattoos can be seen out in the darkness on his face, and seem to run down his neck, maybe even further.

"Shit, sorry, I got lost in thought, do you have a lighter I could use?" you ask, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. But your voice is probably shaking, because no matter how intimidating and obviously unpleasant he can be, he's extremely attractive and it's been a long time since you've felt that way about anyone.

He finally lowers his head to look at you, you do your best to hold his gaze, but it's hard to remain impassive. You must really be going crazy, but you could swear his eyes are sparkling red. again, it's probably just the combination of the lights and your twisted mind making you hallucinate.

"A lighter? only if you come and have a drink with me afterwards" he smirks. You can't help but notice a sparkle in his eyes, almost like a predator cornering his prey. Unfortunately for him, you could see right through him, as you yourself are used to this game, this hunt.

Besides, you were meeting Lily for drinks anyway, so a little male distraction wouldn't hurt.

"That's fine with me, you can go back inside if you're done I'll join you." you say as you turn to lean against the wall, hoping to breathe one and pull yourself together.

"pretty girl, I doubt you could join me on the VIP floor dressed like that, no offense." he says, lifting your head by the chin.

"I could go in my pajamas if I wanted, I work here dumbass." you escape from his grip and throw your still lit cigarette at his feet. "find someone else to piss off, I have to join someone anyway." That's all you say before moving towards the entrance.

~

You were a little annoyed to say the least, for once you'd felt really attracted to someone, and he turned out to be an asshole. But as you walk back into the club, you can't help but smile again at the thought of finding Lily.

Heading for the stairs, you stop to greet Shoko as she starts her shift, grab a couple of drinks for you and Lily and continue upstairs.

Once you're upstairs, the atmosphere is completely different. Unlike the people downstairs, who indulge in socializing and fiery dancing, everything is more subdued here, with bottle girls taking turns to serve customers who treat them like dirt.

You spot Lily at the back of the room, scanning her surroundings. She's sitting in one of the booths, laughing with a group of people who have obviously spent an obscene amount of money on alcohol.

As you walk towards her, your eyes widen, she was right. You immediately recognize the tall, white-haired man she's spoken of so often, and see that she's wasted no time in talking to him. You smile as you imagine how happy she must be, especially as he seems to be enjoying her company.

Lily's eyes light up when you arrive at the table, and she jumps into your arms. She introduces you to everyone and you finally sit down next to her.

You tell her what happened a few minutes before at the back of the club, she can't believe her ears and starts insulting the stranger, laughing along with you.

"If you don't want to go home alone tonight, you're spoilt for choice" she chirps, and she's absolutely right. Everyone around this table is particularly beautiful. But you wouldn't expect anything less from a group of top athletes.

"Mind if i borrow her ? I'm gojo satoru by the way, but since you're close to Lily, you can call me satoru" the white-haired man steps forward to greet you. Not really your style, but you do understand Lily's interest.

"no problem she's all yours, y/n delighted" you smile as you watch them go downstairs to get drinks, which seems strange given that VIPs are served at the table, but seeing the wink Lily gives you as she leaves, you understand that they probably want to be alone for whatever reason.

You find yourself alone, so you look around hoping to find a familiar face, and how disappointed you were to realize that the only face familiar to you was that of the asshole from earlier.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles sideways, stands up and approaches you. There it is, the attraction, the lump in your stomach, maybe it's the alcohol you've ingested, but he looks even more handsome in the light, the color of his eyes still blood-red to you and you can't look away.

"missed me too much baby?" he says, sitting down next to you, much too close.

You take a breath, for some reason the air is almost unbreathable in his presence. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, but why? You weren't likely to find out any more tonight, after his question, you finished your drink in one gulp, it was going to be a long night.

more updates on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/56234707/chapters/142859620

nyc <3