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mrs-gucci · 3 years ago

Note

There seems to be a darker, more violent take on Clyde floating around right now and I LOVE it!! I’m working on one for him too!

Since you say open for darker requests, I’d love to hear your take on a more violent Clyde! He could be saving you from a stalker. Clyde can show him what a real bad ass can do and then show you how well he can treat you too lol! He could be protecting you from someone at the bar. He could be showing you his special forces skills after some gets aggressive. You name it lol!

Secrets of the Blood Moon {werewolf!Clyde x Reader darkfic}

author's notes: helloooo! my friend shannon, thank you for this request!! I am also a fan of the darker take on Clyde and I hope I did it some justice!! I worked really, really hard on this one, and I’m super pleased with how it turned out.

**PLEASE HEED THE DARKFIC WARNING!! THIS FIC INVOLVES SEVERAL VERY HEAVY AND VERY DARK THEMES, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!**

warnings: angst. smut. hurt/comfort. a minor car crash. mentions of alcohol consumption. rut. knotting. breeding kink. werewolf stuff. attempted mating bite. murder coverup. clyde feels guilty.

tw's: noncon touching (not by clyde). involuntary attempted sexual assault (werewolf clyde pins her down & dry humps w/o consent, but human clyde doesn’t know he did it nor would ever intend to do it). blood & gore. graphic depictions of murder and violence. human-hunting. depictions of human body consumption (is it cannibalism if he’s technically a wolf when it happens?). werewolf sex.

**this is a work of FICTION. the author does not attempt to condone the actions/behaviors of the characters written.**

word count: 5.9k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

Last Night

Stepping out of your car, you’re instantly suffocated by the thick humidity of the West Virginia evening. The sun paints cotton candy across the sky as it sets behind the trees on the mountainous horizon, the almost full moon hot on its tail, slowly rising on the other side of the sky.

The blood moon comes tomorrow, and from the old folk tales your mom used to tell about the deep West Virginia countryside, some weird shit goes down under the crimson moon. You never really believed her. What all could happen in lil ol’ Boone County, anyway?

The moment you step into the refreshing, air-conditioned Duck Tape, you’re immediately greeted by a loud call of your name.

“Y/N!” You smile and wave at Jimmy.

Clyde looks up and smiles at you as you come and sit down at the bar next to Jimmy. He serves the customer before coming over to talk with you and the eldest Logan.

You lean over the bar to give him a kiss, earning a couple hoots and hollers from the bar crowd, which made you both laugh as you pull away.

“How was work, buttercup?” He asks, wiping off some glasses. “Weren’t ya doin’ that one presentation today? How’d that go?”

You’re always so flattered that Clyde actually pays attention when you talk about work stuff. Most guys just smile and nod, but Clyde actually listens and remembers. He even remembered your one year anniversary at the company you currently work for, sending you takeout from your favorite place along with some flowers.

“Yeah, it was alright. Boring as hell, but the partners seemed pleased, so that’s all I can really ask for at this point.”

Both he a Jimmy give a small chuckle, nodding before Clyde mixes your favorite drink, setting it down in front of you a few minutes later. You thank him, and the three-way conversation continues before the bar door swings open.

Something about the man’s entrance makes you look over, already smelling trouble as he steps over the threshold. His eyes are glued on you, a smug smirk etched on his expression.

A hush falls over the patrons for a few seconds, all eyes on the leather-clad man. Clyde’s hackles are immediately up, body tense as the mystery man saunters over, plopping himself down onto the vacant stool next to yours.

Things on the floor continue as normal, the chatter picking back up, and you subtly scoot a little closer to Jimmy.

“Bartender?” A thick New York accent calls.

Clyde walks over, plastering a fake smile on his face, seemingly the epitome of southern hospitality.

“What can I getcha, sir?”

The man gives Clyde a once-over and snickers. “No, seriously, where’s the bartender? I’d like a drink.”

Your grip clenches around your glass. You absolutely hated it when people were dicks about Clyde’s hand.

“Seriously, I am the bartender.” He states firmly. “So, what can I get ya?”

His tone sends a chill down your spine. Normally, Clyde just shuts down whenever someone starts poking fun at his missing hand, but tonight, there was a certain air of frustration, of dominance.

You just thought he’d finally cracked, after years of dealing with this bullshit. But as you would learn, there was an alternate explanation for his sudden outwardly alpha-like behavior.

The guy seems to back off a little bit, just asking for a cold Coors straight from the bottle. You startle a bit when Clyde slams the bottle down on the counter in front of him, and you could swear his eyes turn a light grey for a second before returning to the dark brown pools you’re familiar with.

Everything’s quiet for a little while, the man sipping his beer in silence, before he turns to you. He doesn’t say anything at first, simply allowing his eyes to drink in your seated figure.

“What’s your name, baby girl?” The beer smell of his breath is strong as he leans in. “You lookin’ for someone to keep you company tonight?”

You roll your eyes. Douchebag. “Nope. I’m perfectly content just sitting here, thanks.”

Clyde’s watching the interaction like a hawk as he makes someone’s drink. It’s a wonder he can concentrate on the drink when his thoughts and eyes are glued to you.

His slimy hand touches down on your bare thigh, just above your knee, and you jump in your seat. He grins, trailing it up as he leans in even closer.

“Are you sure? I could show you a real good time...”

Glass shatters from behind the bar and then, Clyde’s grabbing the man by his biker jacket, tossing him onto the floor with an almost superhuman strength. You stand up, appalled, as the man on the hardwood scrambles to get up.

An icy grey begins to frost over his sweet chocolate irises as Clyde clenches his fists by his side.

“Don’t ya dare touch ma girl, ye pervert.” He growls, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. “Someone ought to show ya what respect looks like.”

The bar has fallen pin-drop silent, all sets of eyes focused in on the developing scene. He cocks his fist above his head, snarling as he readies to pounce on the helpless man.

It’s then that Jimmy hops up and puts himself between the two men, holding his hands up in front of Clyde. “Don’t do this t’ yerself. Ye know what’ll happen if ya do.”

This seems to bring him back, the warmness flooding back to his irises. His shoulders slump as he huffs softly, pushing past his older brother angrily, storming into his office and slamming the door behind him.

Shakily, the man stands and puts a twenty down on the table before running out of the bar, bell jingling against the wooden door as it eases shut after him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rare blood moon hangs in its place against the pitch black sky as you pull up to the Logan’s trailer home. There aren’t any stars in the clear night’s sky, despite it being the dead of summer, but you don’t think much of it as you approach the shadowed porch.

Moths flutter around the dimly flickering porch light while you peek through the windows, which were as black as the night. Not a single light was on.

Odd. The Pontiac’s parked in its normal spot outside.

You flip the threadbare ‘welcome’ mat up, revealing the rusting gold key beneath. Sticking it in the lock, you turn until the door pops open, an eerie creak accompanying it.

"Clyde?” You say, looking around the trailer’s living room as you flip the living room lights on.

You call for him again. Maybe he’s just taking a nap. “Clyde?”

Still no response.

Now, you’re getting worried. There’s no note, nothing noticeably out of place; in fact, it’s almost all too still. It gives you the creeps, how still and quiet it is in here.

The scent of suspicion thickens the air around you, and you just get the most awful feeling in your gut that something bad is happening or is about to happen.

Adrenaline begins to pump through your veins as you quickly walk around, peeking in the kitchen, and in the spare room. The air seems to thicken again the closer to draw to Clyde’s room, and you push the door open with bated breath.

You’re absolutely mortified at the sight before you.

Shreds of carpet, fabric, and mattress stuffing is scattered the floor, and giant claw marks have torn straight through the drywall. The blankets and comforter, at least the remains of them, are disheveled where they lay across the clawed-up mattress.

His vanity mirror is almost fully shattered, and the products that once sat atop are now tossed across the floor. The chilly summer’s night air flutters the curtains on the opened window above the bed.

The first thought that comes to mind is a bear attack of some kind. Now fully freaking out, you’re wondering how in the world a bear got into the trailer, and why it only seemed to attack Clyde’s room. You scramble to grab your phone from your purse with shaky hands, dialing Jimmy’s number in haste.

Was this one of the blood moon enigmas mom warned about? No, no, bear attacks are pretty common around here.

It takes a few rings before he picks up.

“Y/N?” He sounds out of breath, exhausted.

“Jimmy, hey. Do you know where Clyde is? I’m at the trailer, and--”

Something that sounds like a growl rips through the speaker, followed by a woman’s voice.

“Is everything oka--”

“Mellie, I can’t help ya right now! I’ll be there in a second!” He yells in the background. “Sorry Y/N, you were sayin’ somethin’?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just at the trailer, and I peeked into Clyde’s room...”

“Ya didn’t touch anything, did ya?” His voice is rushed.

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, no, but--”

The growl comes again, louder this time, and it almost sounds like it’s...a voice. A very deep and very animalistic one, but a voice nonetheless. And it was saying something, although you couldn’t really hear clearly enough.

“Jimmy, do you know where Clyde is?” You’re getting a little impatient.

“Don’t worry ‘bout Clyde, he’s okay, he’s, uhh, here with us.”

“Oh, uh, o-okay.”

But tonight was supposed to be your special night together.

“Y/N? Listen real close, now. I need ya to get outta the trailer and go home, right now. Don’t linger, and refrain from touchin’ anything in the trailer. Lock all yer doors n’ close all the windows when ya get back home, okay? ‘N don’t go outside for the rest’a the night.”

Okay, now you’re starting to get fearful. “What--”

“Jimmy!” Mellie’s panicked voice comes through the phone speaker again, this time a bit clearer. He curses under his breath.

Her cries clearly rattled the eldest Logan, and he quickly tells you to just do what he said and then hangs up in a frantic state.

You’re frozen for a moment, but then you quickly scurry outside to your car, frantically looking around as you scramble to fit the key in the driver’s side door. By some miracle, you hold your hand steady enough to unlock it, quickly shutting the door and turning on the engine, peeling out of there like a madwoman.

Suddenly, as you go to pull out of the driveway, a strange apparition appears at the edge of the wood across the street. You squint, trying to figure out what the hell it is. Whatever it is, though, it’s panting heavily and looks...inhuman.

It’s standing on two legs, but its large, probably almost seven feet tall if you had to guess, and must’ve had some type of black fur or skin since it almost blends in with the darkened forest.

The reddish light of the moon is the only light that reflects upon this mystery creature, before it seems to notice your car idling in the driveway. The crisp light grey pupils seemingly glimpse into your soul as the creature looks upon you.

Clearly, now, you can decipher what exactly it is, although you’re in utter shock and skeptical to think it real: A werewolf.

You quickly put the car in reverse, slamming down on the gas, flying backwards for a few seconds before colliding with the trailer’s tin wall. Your head slams forward onto the steering wheel, trickles of blood dribble down your forehead and nose as your consciousness is lost.

When you come to, only a few minutes later, you groan as the welt forms on your forehead. You look around, groggily, seeing that your car is in drive but isn’t moving. Surely when you’d passed out, your foot would’ve come off the brake and you would’ve rolled away...

Stepping out carefully, you find that some bricks have been placed in front of all four tires, effectively keeping the car at a dead standstill.

Who in the world did this?

Then, you turn your head and walk slowly around to the front of your car, seeing the remnants of sharp teeth marks on your bumper. You’re frozen, a lump slowly crawling up your throat as the realization hits.

A low growl comes from behind you, and your worst fears have suddenly been realized. You slowly, carefully spin around on your heels, afraid that one wrong move may make you tonight’s surprise entree.

Your eyes meet the soul-piercing grey’s of the werewolf, the one you’d seen at the edge of the forest minutes earlier. The one that seemingly saved your life, but...how did a werewolf know what to do?

As you continue to gaze at the large being before you, you’re struck with a sense of familiarity, almost as if you’d met them before. Strange, because you can’t recall ever encountering a werewolf. Hell, you’ve never even seen a wolf before, other than in pictures. Surely you’d remember coming into contact with a seemingly impossible biological phenomenon such as this one.

His presence is scarily comforting, and you find yourself briefly wondering what it’d feel like to be enveloped in his woolen arms. Well, arm, technically speaking. This particular werewolf seems to be missing the lower half of his left paw.

Then, your mind connects the dots, and you’re shocked to your very core. It wasn’t a bear that attacked Clyde’s room, it was Clyde. This werewolf that’s standing before you is Clyde. That’s why Jimmy and Mellie sounded so frantic and breathless on the phone; they must’ve been trying to keep him contained.

But why? Werewolves usually recognize the important people in their human lives...right? That’s why he’d saved you from rolling off...

Your headlights’ reflection was speared by your figure, creating a shadow that covered most of Clyde’s form, except for the very tips of his paws, which had enormous claws emerging from beneath the thick layer of fur.

“Clyde?” You whisper, and he seems to soften for a moment, falling down on all threes.

Just as you swallow the lump in your throat and begin to cautiously approach the creature, hand outstretched to allow him to smell you, his eyes suddenly darken, the once snowy grey now more like the color of storm clouds.

He snarls, white teeth shining in the moon’s moody crimson-tinted reflection, and you immediately backtrack. Oh god, I’m fucked.

Your bottom collides with the front of your car, the engine thrumming lowly as it idles happily, grille warm from the machine inside. The headlights are now fully shining on the creature, fur shining under the bright lights as he approaches, lines of drool strung between his sharp fangs.

“C-Clyde, please,” You plead with the creature. “It’s m-me, Y/N, your g-girlfriend. You know m-me, you don’t w-wanna do t-this...”

It doesn’t seem to do much to dissuade him, the animal within now overshadowing the kind, gentle man you know and love. No, this creature is something else. This isn’t your Clyde.

The wolf stops short of the hood, where you’ve crawled up onto and are laying back, raising his nose up in the air, sniffing. You’re perplexed by this action, but it becomes evident when his ear prick and he says, in that same deep, animalistic voice that was in the background of your call with Jimmy,

“Mate.”

And then, he’s pouncing, trapping your hands above your head with his one arm while his legs scramble to find a good grip on the metallic surface of the car, hips rutting frantically.

His muzzle dips down, wet nose running along your jawline and neck, teeth scraping dangerously against your thin skin. He quickly settles on a spot behind your ear, growling as his pink tongue darts out to begin lapping at the spot.

You’re completely still, both physically restrained and unable to bring yourself to even try to move as the creature drags his fangs across the skin behind your ear. Your car is rocking back and forth with his hips’ violent movements, dragging his enormous cock against your lower stomach.

He pants into your ear, breath hot as he prepares to sink his sharp fangs into your tender skin, marking you as his forever...

“CLYDE!”

Jimmy’s voice pierces through the still of the night. Crickets stop chirping for a moment, and Clyde’s body stills. His head whips around, snarling at his brother.

Mellie’s right behind him, and she peers around him, trying to look at you. “Y/N, are ya alright?”

“YYYeah,” You manage, somehow. “I-I’m o-okay.”

Clyde hops down, all three feet planted on the ground, hackles up as Jimmy takes a step forward. “Mate.”

“She ain’t yer mate.” Jimmy says, calmly. He points to you. “Look at whatcha done to ‘er, Clyde. Would a mate look like that, huh? Look at ‘er, Clyde, she’s all beat up and scared outta her damn mind.”

The wolf visibly stands down, slowly turning his head to look back at you, seeing the scratches on your wrists and the marks on your neck. He sees the bit of wetness on your shirt and shorts, from his slick.

He hangs his head and begins to cry, whimpering and whining as he sprints off, surprisingly agile and quick for a wolf with three paws, across the road and back into the woods.

His blood’s boiling, he’s angry that he couldn’t defend you against Jimmy, mad that his alpha instincts had failed him. Even as a werewolf, one of the most powerful beings in the forest, he was still weaker than and overshadowed by his showboat older brother.

Loud barks of anger rip through him as he masterfully maneuvers through the forest, weaving through the trees, dodging thorns, leaping over the fallen tree trunks.

The sky suddenly begins to empty down onto Earth, the cool summer night’s rain a welcomed refreshment on Clyde’s fur. He looks up at the blood moon, huffing softly as he silently curses the orb for bringing this condition to him each full moon, as he did every single moon before this, and will continue to do with every one after.

He reaches his cave a few minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks when he smells smoke coming from inside. He’s on high alert, now, as he moves to peek into the cavern.

There, he finds a lone man sitting by a very small fire, rubbing his hands together over the heat. He’s clad in head-to-toe tree camo with a shotgun laying just out of arms reach.

This man’s scent feels awfully familiar, Clyde thinks, but it takes him a minute to figure out why. And, when he does remember, Clyde is suddenly not so sympathetic for the unwanted visitor in his cave.

The wolf’s mind falls to a certain memory from last night at Duck Tape. This is the jackass that thought he could get away with feelin’ you up. The one that poked plenty ‘a fun at his missing hand.

Clyde’s still-hard cock presses up against his furry stomach in excitement, tongue licking over his razor-sharp fangs. He couldn’t protect or avenge you last night, again due to Jimmy, but maybe he can now.

Jimmy ain’t gonna get in my way this time ‘round.

He can’t just come running into the entrance, no, that allows him too much time to grab the gun. He thinks, and thinks, until he remembers the connecting cave that he’d recently found on the last full moon. He bets he can get in there and creep up behind the man, do a sneak attack.

He’s salivating in anticipation as he bounds down to the opposite side of the cave, paws padding lightly against the soft gravelly dirt floor, trotting along carefully.

The man is none the wiser to the wolf’s presence, and the hum of the loud rain certainly wasn’t hurting. A loud crack of thunder suddenly rips through the forest, vibrating the ground. Clyde freezes briefly as the young man curls up further, chin resting in the gap between his knees.

Predatory instincts pumping through his veins at an all-time high, he crouches down as he stalks closer and closer to the unsuspecting body by the small fire. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, now right behind the man, moving in slow motion so as to not alert his victim.

When the time is right, just as the next clap of thunder rumbles the rocks, Clyde pounces. He grabs the man’s shirt, dragging him out of the cave with an unprecedented swiftness. The fire is extinguished with the tussle, leaving the cave shrouded in darkness, the shotgun laid abandoned on the ground where he’d put it.

He struggles against the wolf’s grip, fabric ripping violently the further his body’s dragged along. Clyde throws him out onto the forest floor, pawing at the ground like a wild stallion as the disheveled man scrambles to his feet.

His hands are shaky as he holds them up in front of him, as if trying to calm the creature like a domesticated dog. “E-Easy, easy.”

If he could, Clyde would’ve rolled his eyes at the man’s pathetic attempt to talk down at him. He snarls, watching in amusement at the way he startles and stumbles back.

Clyde’s got the man backed against the trunk of an old oak within seconds, and he stands up on two legs, glaring at the much smaller figure. He bares his teeth, a wolf’s version of a devilish grin.

“Run.”

It seems like the man is caught in between being shocked that this wolf just spoke English and being chilled to the core by his word. He sputters for a moment, brain smoking as it churns on overdrive, before his legs carry him as quickly as they can down the mountainside.

The wolf casually trots along after him, in very little rush to catch him. He’s throbbing hard now, the excitement translating into pure arousal. Clyde knows these woods like the back of his hand; there’s no where for this man to hide from his inevitable fate as the wolf-man’s next meal.

His head continuously whips around, meeting the grayish-white orbs tucked behind a thick coat of jet black fur. In a frenzy, he tucks himself behind a large tree, catching his breath.

Twigs snap in seemingly all directions, his breath heavy as his eyes flicker all around the dark, damp wood, the only light coming from the crimson-tinted orb above. He reaches back and wraps his arms around the tree’s trunk, panicked.

A low growl rattles his eardrums and he looks to the side, seeing the black creature right at his side. Clyde’s head snaps to the side, looking directly at his victim.

Crying out in fear, the man leaps forward to make a run for it, but is quickly taken to the dirt by the wolfish creature. The man squirms and screams out for mercy, for God, and Clyde knows what he has to do now.

He quickly sinks his teeth into the back of the mans neck repeatedly, effectively severing the spinal cord, leaving the man completely limp and defenseless. A quick and effective manner of disabling a victim, he’s learned through hunting animals, but keeps him just alive enough to see what’s being done to him.

Clyde flips the limp form over, now on his back, and his eyes are wide as he watches the wolf above him, black fur now stained red around the mouth, stare down at him with a hungry gaze.

His mouth opens, probably to beg for his life, but it’s too late. Fangs sink through his shirt and into the flesh of his chest, just above where his rapidly beating heart lay.

The thump-thump rhythm slows, then stops, the life leaving his body. Sweet copper tang coats the wolf’s tongue as the body is drained of its remaining energy.

There is little feeling better than watching the life slowly and steadily drain from the eyes of a victim, and suddenly, Clyde’s throbbing arousal has reached an almost unmanageable point.

But, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to devour his freshly-caught prey, especially while it’s still warm. So he digs in immediately, carving further into the hole over the heart he’d already created, ripping out the vital organ.

He holds it triumphantly between his teeth for a moment before setting it aside. His craving is more for the meat, he’s never been much of a fan of organs, so he gets to work separating the good meat from the corpse.

Once he’s done, he lifts his nose in the air, howling loudly. He’s never been this hard before, he swears it, and there’s only one person that can satisfy this urge:

You.

For a wolf on three legs, he reaches your house in record time. He can already feel the wolf-ness fading steadily, the human beginning to peek through the cracks. But, his rut doesn’t give at all, and he bounds up the steps and scratches at your door.

You’re startled by the noise, already a gut feeling you know who it is. When you open the door, Clyde’s wolf figure is sitting politely on your doormat. Should you let him in?

He pushes past, whimpering as he does so, before you can make a decision. You shut the door slowly before turning around to face the creature. He seems a bit different than when you saw him earlier, seeming a bit more human.

You stand against the door, back pressed up against it, looking down at the wolf in your living room.

“Y/N.” He breathes, huskily, attempting to ignore the hardness pressing up against his wooly stomach. “N-Need you. Please.”

He’s ashamed as he stands up on his hind legs, wrapping a clawed hand around his oozing cock, jutting his hips out as if to show off for you. The alpha in him needs to show you how suitable of a mate he is, what strong pups he can give you.

“It hhhhurts, b-buttercup.”

The battle going on inside him, animal versus human, is painfully evident on his expression. Your hearts been ripped in half as you watch him struggle with himself, the human trying to overpower the animal, and the animal trying to fight off the human. He doesn’t even know what he did to you earlier.

“What do you need from me, Clyde? I’m here to help you, honey, I’ll do whatever you need.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but its quickly replaced by a look of what can only be described as pure, primal hunger.

“Floor. A-All fours.” The wolf-man manages, desperately humping his hand to offer some relief. “G-Get the lube, ffffuuuck, I mmuhhmight hurt ya without it.”

You rush to get the lube, placing the tube next to you as you pull your leggings down, exposing your bare cunt. Clyde watches with an eager anticipation as you spread yourself for him.

As soon as you’re into position, he practically falls over on top of you, hips rutting uncontrollably as he smoothes lube over his drooling cock and lines up with your entrance.

“B-Buttercup, I...I’m sssorry ‘bout what’s ggon’ happen. This ain’t me, ppuhpplease remember that, mmkay?”

You nod, tearing up at the pure agony in his voice. “I w-will, Clyde.”

His hips shove forward, a choked howl escaping his lips, balls tightening. You cry out, the burn of your walls stretching to accommodate his girthy length more prominent than usual.

Veins bulge out of his neck, jaw clenched as he begins moving, mercilessly plowing into you from behind. He plants his clawed hand next to yours, loud and desperate scratching noises accompanying the wet squelch of your joined torsos.

The carpet is shredded, hardwood floor scratched permanently by his feet as he humps you with a desperation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. This really wasn’t Clyde, but you soon realized that you exactly mind this side of Clyde, this primal instinct, this roughness. It was arousing, bittersweetly so.

When you look over your shoulder at the wooly mass moving behind you, your eyes widen. You didn’t notice the shiny substance from a distance, but now that he’s up close, you see that it coats his snout and has even dripped down onto his breast.

A gripping fear bubbles in your stomach. But then, you rationalize immediately, before you find yourself too deep down in this rabbit hole of worry. He probably just hunted a deer or a rabbit or something. He’s a fucking wolf, remember?

You almost sigh out loud in relief, but you keep it in, instead moaning along with each of his thrusts.

“D-Did ya like muhmmahhmm--ma w-wolf cock?” He asks.

You nod. “Y-Yeah, ohhh god, I liked it.”

“Gonna gguh-give ya real nice p-pups.” His muzzle rubs over the spot behind your ear, the same one that he’d been after earlier, smearing some of the crimson across your skin. He licks it with as much consistency as possible, considering the speed and intensity of his hips. “F-Fill ya u-up, knot ya gggood ‘n deep.”

You’re almost positive he’s talking pretty much nonsense at this point, his rut brain having completely taken over. You know you’re not gonna cum, but it doesn’t really matter; you’re doing this for him, after all.

“Oh g-god, I’m cummin’, I’m gonna--”

He pauses his hips, howling softly as he cums. But this time, something else begins to swell, and you cry out as it does so.

“M-Ma k-knot,” Clyde breathes in explanation. “Keeps it a-all inside y-ya.”

You nod, not really knowing what all he’s talking about but not really caring for an explanation right now.

“‘m gonna h-havta stay inside y-ya fer a lil while. S-Should be ‘b-bout 30 minutes or so.”

His tongue begins moving over your cheeks and neck, something that makes you smile, that helps you remember that your beloved boyfriend’s in there somewhere.

The half hour waiting period passes, and as much as you’ve loved snuggling with your boyfriend (who’s wolf counterpart is relatively cuddly, despite previous reservations), you’re happy to have him off you.

After wishing you a final goodbye, citing the need to ‘clean up his cave a bit’, he trotted back out the door and galloped like a madman (wolf?) back out into the shadowed wood, leaving you alone once more.

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It’s all over the news when you flip on the TV a couple days later. Hunter Found Slain in Boone County Woods, Bear Attack Suspected.

You have this awful, sick-to-your-stomach feeling that what happened the other night, when Clyde came to your house still in wolf form with a snout and chest covered in blood, had something to do with this.

When the picture of the victim came up on the screen, you audibly gasp, recognizing the face. It’s the guy that was feeling you up at a few nights ago at Duck Tape.

Oh god, no.

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Clyde’s panting as he rushes in and shuts it behind him. He looks pained, bottom lip trembling. “Have ya s-seen the ne--”

“...Police are still investigating the scene...foul play has not yet been ruled out...”

His entire demeanor falls, and the tears fill his eyes. He’s visibly shaking. You stand up and rush over to him just as he collapses on the floor.

You’re freaking out, trying to confirm what it is you’re pretty sure you already know.

“C-Clyde, did you...?”

He looks up at you from where his head now rests in your lap. “I c-can’t quite remember, b-but I think...I think I m-might’ve.”

Sobs wrack through his body as he cries hoarsely. You’re in shock, somehow hearing the words makes the reality suddenly hit like a damn semi-truck. You run your hands through Clyde’s slightly matted mane, soothing him as best you can.

“Clyde, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright, it’s not your fault.” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah it i-is, though. I k-killed ‘im.”

You try to stay strong, for Clyde’s sake, but the tears are swelling in your eyes at an uncontrollably fast rate. “But you d-didn’t do it o-on purpose, h-honey.”

His face seems to drop even more when he sees that you’re about to cry. He sits up shakily, pulling you into a big ol’ bear hug.

“Oh, buttercup, oh god, ‘m sorry. I didn’t m-mean to drag y-ya into all ‘a t-this.”

You sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. It’s hard to believe that this man, this kind, gentle man, could’ve done something like this on purpose. Clyde would never hurt a fly.

From what he’s told you, which granted is very little, the line between werewolf and human for him is quite a blurry one. He seems to only be able to remember parts of what happened, and his subconscious is only there for part of the time.

Which means that he’s technically innocent, since he can’t remember nor could he control his canine impulses or instinct. As far as you’re concerned, werewolf Clyde and human Clyde are two different beings.

“I-If anyone ever f-found out ‘bout ma c-condition...”

You pull away and look up at him, holding his face in your hands. “Clyde, I-I’m not gonna turn y-you in.”

“What?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he’s surprised to hear your words. “Y-Yer not g-gon’...?”

Shaking your head, you swing your leg over his lap, hugging him once more while your face settles into the crook of his neck.

“No, of course not. I know you’re a good p-person, and like I said before, it’s n-not you. Your w-wolf side is not really you, Clyde, at least not entirely.”

Clyde looks down at you with an incredibly grateful expression, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tilts your head up with one of his meaty fingers, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is relatively short, just a showing of his gratitude, of his love for you. When he pulls away, you maintain eye contact.

“Okay, so most of the solid DNA evidence will have been washed away by the rain and tampered with by the elements over the past few days that the body’s been outside. Plus, they aren’t looking for wolf DNA, and even if they somehow knew, your wolf DNA wouldn’t lead to your human identity, at least I don’t think so...”

Hours and hours of watching countless true crime shows, movies, and documentaries are finally paying off.

“But, do you remember leaving anything, anything that could indicate foul play? Really search your memory.”

He puts his metaphorical thinking cap on, closing his eyes as he tries to recall anything of use from that night, but nothing comes to mind. His eyes swell with tears as they blink open and he shakes his head. “I can’t ‘member anythin’.”

“That’s okay, Clyde. They won’t find out, I promise, they won’t.” You kiss his neck. “For now, let’s just try to relax and we’ll keep an eye on the news. Will you come snuggle on the couch with me?”

Clyde smiles softly, nodding as you pull away and stand up, extending a hand to him. He takes it, standing up seconds later. As you walk into the living room, he says your name, causing you to turn around with a slightly perplexed expression.

“Thank ya.”

You smile brightly. “I love you, Clyde.”

“I love ya, too, darlin’.”

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gotnofucks · 4 years ago

Text

Protected

Paring: dark!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: How were you to know who’s a monster, who’s a savior when they all hide behind a mask

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: violence, manipulation, dark themes, language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Aged up Peter Parker (obviously). No smut in here, even I surprised myself.

MASTERLIST

+++++

You stared in the mirror, hands clammy as you tried to angle the phone right. The lightening was not perfect, and you twisted, trying to see if you’ll need to turn on the flash. Just as you thought you’d found your position, your phone chimed and you jumped. Clicking on the notification you opened your messages and found another text from the private number.

Be quick

Just above this was the text you’d received 20 minutes ago that had you running into the bathroom and taking your top and bra off within minutes.

Send me a pic of your right nipple

It had started a couple weeks ago with the kidnapping of your boyfriend, Sammy. You didn’t realize he had been kidnapped at first. He worked as a driver for a rich family and they took him away without preamble overnight for visits into next town. You only noticed something was strange when all your calls and texts remained unanswered for two days and you finally made a call to his employers to figure out if everything was okay. It was a shock to realize that the family was in town and hadn’t seen him for two days too. You had jumped into action, barely making sure you were appropriately dressed as you made your way to the police station to report a missing person’s report. You had parked down and were just about to open your door when the first message pinged. You almost didn’t check your phone, but the notification said private number, so you clicked on it. Your world came crashing down.

It was a picture of your boyfriend tied to a metal chair in what looked like a warehouse with blood caking his hairline and mouth gagged. Tears were streaming down his face and you covered your mouth in shock. Another message chimed, this one reading:

Don’t even think of going inside. Turn around and go back to your home

You had whipped your head around, looking out of the window with terrified eyes as you tried to see anyone who looked suspicious or was paying attention to you. Nothing struck you out of the ordinary and you were more determined than ever to go in and file a report when another message popped up.

Go home or I can send your precious lover’s head to you in a parcel

Maybe you should have gone inside, maybe you should have told someone. But when someone is holding a gun to the love of your life, you do what the fuck they say. Common sense doesn’t come into play. Last minute solutions don’t play in your mind. It was real life, not a movie. You drove back to your house in tears, hands trembling. Your boyfriend was not missing, he’d been taken by someone. The drive back home was a blur and you barely made it without hitting someone or yourself. You parked outside and entered your home, locking the door behind. The moment you were in, another text alert:

Good girl

You locked all the doors and windows, the curtains drawn shut. You sat down in the living you, finally finding the nerve to text back.

Who are you? What do you want?

You waited for a reply, your eyes darting around your house. Did the person have camera’s in your house or were you simply followed? Would they really hurt Sammy or was that an empty threat? Should you call his parents? Your parents? Your phone dinged and quickly swiped up to open the text.

I want you to send me picture of your little toe

What the fuck? This had to be some sort of a joke. You were shaking in fear and anger, your hand clutching the phone in a dead grip. You should have gone and made the complaint. It was dark outside now, but you’d go to the police station first thing tomorrow morning. To hell with this person, you will not be scared of them. You took a screenshot of the messages and made sure your house was secure before retiring to your room with a knife. Sleep came late and restless, your worry keeping you from having a sated sleep. Horrible scenarios ran across your mind, each worse than the last.

You woke up early and dressed up. You needed to be at the station as soon as possible, Sammy was in danger. Whoever had him seemed addled in the brain. You were just pouring your coffee in your travelling mug when the doorbell rang. Your heart beat in your throat, your body seizing up in terror. You got your knife from the kitchen, creeping to the door on all fours trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. You leaned up slightly to peep out the peephole and saw a delivery man. He looked normal enough, cranky from an early delivery. You cautiously opened the door a few inches, hiding the knife behind your back.

“Y/n Y/l/n?” He asked and you nodded. He held out a small parcel to you along with a form to sign. You opened the door a few more inches and quickly scribbled your name across the form, taking the parcel with tentative hands. The man walked away without a goodbye and you sighed. Not everyone was out there to get you.

You placed the parcel on the table. It held only the delivery receipt, no other marks on it. It was small, almost like a jewelry box. You looked at the time and thought to open it first. You didn’t wanna deal with sleep deprived officers who refuse to take you seriously at the station. Getting out you scissors you cut the brown paper off and opened the plain carboard box. Inside was a jewelry box like you had expected, but who would send this to you? There was no note and you opened the flap.

It fell out of your hands as you screamed, your hands rushing to your mouth in horror. The thing that had been perched inside like a ring rolled out and fell on the floor, resting at your feet. It was a little toe. A severed, human little toe. And if your hunch was right, you knew who it belonged to. Your phone chimed at that very moment and you swallowed back the bile in your throat when you swiped up.

Next time, listen. I have no trouble sending his head to you.

P.S. Drink that coffee, looks delicious. And be a good girl and forget about the police if you give a damn about your piece of shit boyfriend.

P.P.S I’ll like a pic of your pinky finger

You send him the pic with shaky hands, tears falling down your cheeks.

This is how it went for a few weeks, them asking for pictures of different body parts. Each with a threat of the same part being chopped off Sammy’s body if you don’t comply. Whoever they were, they didn’t call you and you couldn’t call them. You rarely texted, only asking if Sammy was okay and you’ll get vague texts in reply saying, ‘that depends on you’.

The pictures were seemingly innocent enough at first. Your fingers, your knee, your shoulder, hair braided, hair in a pony. But then they got dangerous. The inside of your things, your ass in a pink pair of panties, your nipples. You gave them what they wanted. As long as Sammy was okay, but you didn’t know how long you could continue this. Something had to be done

+++++

You were probably making a big mistake, but you had no option. Police was out of question, but they weren’t the police. Not entirely.

The kidnapper could for some reason follow you everywhere, even look inside your home though you had scoured every corner and found no cameras. You needed people more powerful and they were the only ones who could help. You know they didn’t have time for something this small as they dealt with world endangering events, but you had to try. You entered the Avengers Tower, making your way to the front desk. The lady sitting behind looked kind enough, greeting you politely.

“Hello, how can I help you?” She asked with a practiced smile and you nervously smiled back.

“I uh, I want to make a complaint.” You winced as you said that, your eyes darting around. The lady however gave you a sympathetic smile, slipping you a form to fill.

“You can fill this one, but it may take a while to get to them. They can be very busy” She said, and you nodded, taking the form and going to sit on a couch to fill it out. You gave all the necessary information, adding in that you had picture proof. You hoped it reached someone here who could help, if not the avengers then someone from Shield. You got up to submit it when you bumped into somebody, making them drop their papers along with yours.

“Oh, I am so sorry” you apologized, bending down to gather their stuff as well as yours. A hand reached out to help and you looked up in the eyes of Sam Wilson. You blinked and then stammered another apology that he waved away. He got the papers from your hand, looking over and found your form.

“This yours miss?” He asked as he looked over the paper, his brow furrowing as he read on. You nodded and bit your lip. He turned it over and then looked back at you. “Do you have the picture evidence?” He asked tapping the paper and you nodded quickly. You showed him your phone, with the messages and pictures. He frowned, his handsome face pinched.

“Can you help me? They sent me his severed toe. For all I know he isn’t even alive now.” You croaked and Sam looked at you with kind eyes.

“Y/n, isn’t it?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, this looked very creepy and bad. I’ll take it up to the team okay? See if someone can spare sometime on it. Here, take my card. Call me if they approach you again.”

You almost sobbed with relief, glad that something seemingly good finally happened. You thanked him and pocketed his card, hoping you made the right call. It didn’t matter now anyway. You were in deep. Either the kidnappers find out and threaten you, possibly killing Sammy. Or they piss their pants and leave you the hell alone. You just wanted this to be over.

You returned to your flat with a lighter heart, having a full dinner after ages. You had the avengers on your case. The avengers. The guys who took down aliens and planet-wiping asshats. They will put an end to this, you were sure. You slept better that night too, heinous dreams not plaguing you for a change.

You went to work early that day. Usually your shift at the local clinic didn’t start until an hour later, but you were feeling hopeful. Helping people through the day by stitching their wounds or giving a kid a cartoon bandage took your mind off things. It was a smooth day, almost normal. No more texts from the kidnapper today and if Sammy were home, things would be perfect. You were only just leaving when another person walked in your station, a cut bleeding over their lip. You recognized the boy and gave him a reproachful look.

“Peter, again?” You groaned, your hands automatically reaching for the antiseptic wipes. He came in once every few weeks, battered from one thing or another. You were sure some gang was beating him up, but he never confided. He was your age, studying some cool physics stuff while you nursed here. He was a very regular patient.

“Hey Y/n, can you patch me up. Again.” He said, ruffling his hair awkwardly. You tended to him, being careful not to hurt him even though he barely flinched. He had tremendous pain tolerance and you didn’t wanna know how he built it up. He was a great guy, pretty cool and respectful.

“There you go, all done. Maybe listen to me for once and don’t do whatever it is you do.” You advised, and he sent you a bashful grin that you knew meant your words went in one ear and out of the other.

“Thanks. You look good today, happier. Something good happen?” He asked and you smiled a little.

“I think so. I’ll get to know soon enough. You look after yourself, mkay?” You say and pack up your stuff. You saw him lingering, feet shuffling around so you raised an eyebrow.

“Um, I was wondering if you’d wanna go out for a coffee or something?” He asked and now it was your turn to shuffle uneasily.

“Peter, I’m really flattered. But I’m in a relationship already.” You told him and saw him frown.

“You have a boyfriend?” He asked confused and you nodded. Sammy was still your boyfriend, regardless of everything. You weren’t going to go around dating behind his back. He will come home. You were sure he will. Peter’s face fell and before you could say something he nodded and left. You felt horrible, but you hoped he will come around.

You got a call from Sam right before you went to sleep.

“Hey, did the kidnappers contact you?” He asked and you said no. He hummed and spoke to someone in the background. “Can you come over to the tower tomorrow? We’ll have a look at your phone, try and track the number?”

You agreed to meet him there at noon and a smile spread on your face. Things seemed to be progressing. Maybe the kidnapper was too scared of the avengers to make any move. You hoped you’ll get Sammy back soon.

You reached the tower with ten minutes to spare. You had taken trouble dressing up today as you didn’t know if you’ll meet more avengers. It was a blessing to have them and you prayed things will turn out okay. Sam met you in the lobby, waving at you.

“Hey, come on up. We’ve got a tech team waiting” He said, and you followed him to the elevator. It seemed to rise up and up, and you got nervous. You were glad you hadn’t deleted anything from your phone but worried what they will say about it. You had after all sent nude pics to a stranger.

“Hey, don’t worry. It’s a safe space.” Sam promised you and you tried to force a smile.

You exited with him in what looked like a huge office space, with cabins and sleek furniture everywhere. He led you to the cabin at the end and held the door for you to enter. You took a step inside and almost stopped short. When Sam said tech team you didn’t know it would mean Black Widow and Tony Stark.

“Come on in, we don’t bite.” Tony teased you, waving you forward and you stumbled. They both shook your hands and offered you a seat where you sat gobsmacked. You kinda sat like a goldfish until manners and mobility returned and you greeted them with a high pitch hello.

“Hey kid, you don’t need to worry. We got a free day today and Wilson said a young lady needed saving. Romanoff loves the ladies you know.” Tony winked and Nat threw a stapler at him that he caught. You nervously smiled and then they got to business. You explained everything to them, showing them the texts and pictures.

“Hmm, it’s a private number. Let’s see if we can do something about it.” Nat said and connected your phone to her laptop, clattering away on the keys. As she did, her brows drew together and she huffed. “Oh, this one is good. Not good enough for me though.”

She kept at it for a few minutes and when her device beeped her mouth parted a little. She moved her head away and blinked before passing the laptop to Tony who looked baffled. He started his own clattering and you tensed. The laptop beeped again and just then the door opened. You looked up to see…a man wearing the spiderman mask.

“Hey kid, you know you can take that thing off in here.” Sam said.

“I’m good. I need to leave soon anyway.” The voice behind the mask said and it almost sounded familiar. He looked at you and waved and you returned the gesture. Of course, Spiderman’s identity was a secret. You were probably the reason he was wearing the mask in the first place.

“This doesn’t seem right.” Tony mused and he and Nat exchanged a look.

“What is it?” You asked and Sam echoed your question.

“Well, the signals of the phone trace back to this tower.” Tony answered and he seemed as bewildered as you.

“What? Like a shield agent? That would explain how they could spy on her without too much trouble.” Sam mused.

“You mind if I see Mr. Stark?” Spiderman asked and Tony passed the laptop to him, leaning back in his seat.

“I’ll have Friday run a scan all over the tower. We’ll have an identity soon. But damn, this is disturbing.” Tony said and you felt anticipation rise in you. You’ll have the name of the kidnapper soon, and after that Sammy can be home.

“Uh, Mr. Stark, something is going on here. I – I swear I didn’t do anything.” Spiderman called out in a panicked voice and Tony and Nat crowed around him.

“What the fuck? How did this happen?” Nat scowled, her face almost buried in the screen as Tony did whatever he did there. “This…this can’t just happen. Tony!”

They looked up at you genuinely confused as you stared back with wide eyes.

“It seems like someone just deleted all the data from the number, including the trace. That shouldn’t have been possible.” Nat explained and you willed your tears away. All the proof you had gathered was lost, including the only lead you’d had for months.

“Hey kid, don’t cry. We’ve got you, okay. We know its someone from inside the tower. We’ll keep a watch.” Tony assured you, patting your shoulder in a fatherly way. You sniffled and shifted in your seat, all the hopelessness coming back.

“I think someone should keep a watch with her.” Nat suggested. “Whoever they are, we know they are good. Must be some top shield agent. A stakeout at her place, that should clear shit up.”

The others nodded and you cringed. You didn’t want to trouble them or have your privacy invaded this way, but if that was what it took to get Sammy back, you’ll be okay with it. So, you agreed.

“I’ll see if Wanda is free.” Sam suggested when Spiderman stood up and waved goodbye.

“Now wait here Wilson, we got our friendly neighborhood hero right here. Kid, you look after her. Your people skills are depressing and maybe you’ll cheer up a bit.” Tony said and you saw Spiderman wring out his hands.

“Mr. Stark, I’ve got college.”

“She’s got work.” Tony looked at you and you nodded. “See it will be perfect. Go on, pack an overnight.”

You gave out your address and went back home, aggressively cleaning before Spiderman arrived. You felt kinda bad for him since you knew he didn’t wanna be here, but well, job’s a job. He arrived just as you’d finished shoving your stuff under the bed and you opened the door to him still wearing the mask.

“Hey, make yourself at home. I’d give you a tour but its only one room, bathroom and kitchen.” You said awkwardly, his red face looking around.

“It’s chill. I’ll make my bed on the couch. You don’t need to worry. I’ll keep you safe.” He promised. His voice wasn’t very rough, and you thought he must be somewhere around your age.

“You can uh, take your mask off if you wanna. I swear I won’t tell anyone” You promised but he shook his head.

“I’m fine. Please, don’t bother. Go about your day as usual. I’ll make myself scarce.” He set his bag on the coffee table and took out his books. Some complicated physics stuff. Well, Tony Stark wouldn’t just have a stupid rookie in his team.

You and Spiderman (Seriously, you can just call me Erek Trapper) had a simple dinner. You knew he’d given you a fake name, probably just an anagram but you didn’t push him. You valued your privacy too. He wasn’t too much trouble, always polite and never in your way. Only once you found him in your doorway watching you sleep, but he very embarrassedly told you that he needed an extra pillow to sleep. You gave him one after which he didn’t appear again.

He stayed for a week before shit happened. You were alone at home when your phone buzzed. “Erek” was still not back from his classes and you were making dinner. You picked up your phone and almost dropped it in fright. A private number.

Such a silly dumb girl you are.

Another buzz

You’re not good at taking orders, are you? We’re gonna work on that

Buzz

And here I thought you cared about this pathetic boy

Buzz

I should have really sent you his whole leg instead of the toe

Buzz

Look in your kitchen drawer

You turned around, sweat running down your neck and tremors hit you as you pulled out your drawer. You screamed, bloody fingernails inside a cup greeting you. You stumbled back and your windows started rattling all at once. You sat huddled in the kitchen, screaming with your head between your legs as knocks echoed around your apartment, multiple doors and windows banging. You sniffed and suddenly looked across the hall where a fire burned in your room.

“No!” You couldn’t get up, frozen in shock. The doors kept banging, smoke filling the house and your lungs, blurring your vision. Your throat was hoarse and dry and you coughed, trying and failing to stand up with support of the counter. You knocked against the drawer, the cup of nails tumbling down over you making you flail and howl.

You crawled away on shaky feet, feeling more exhausted than ever. Your lungs burned and you coughed, losing feeling of your body. The door was banging louder than ever and you shut your ears, tears making their way down your face.

It opened with a bang, a man nearly flying inside and to your side. Cool hands gripped your face and tapped your cheeks, urging you to keep your eyes open. You were in his arms, being lifted outside from your home.

“Mr. Stark, no, I got there in time. Yes sir. Taking her with me. Bring her to the tower? Yes sir. She’s okay – I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. Gonna be swinging with her.” He spoke to someone.

Air rushed against you and you barely opened your eyes before shutting them again. You were flying from building to building, only one arm around you keeping you safe. You hugged him tight, pressing your face into his neck.

“We’re almost there, Y/n. Damn it! I knew I should have controlled the drugs.”

You didn’t understand what he said and as the swinging motion grew frantic, your eyes shut.

+++++

Beeping of a machine greeted you and your eyes opened to the view of a hospital room. A tube was in your arm, a tv playing softly in the background. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and as your memories flooded you, you stood up. The beeping increased and a door opened to let in a man in middle age, with soft salt and pepper curls.

“Hey hey, its alright. You’re safe. You need to lay down.” He said. He looked so familiar and your eyes widened as you recognized him as Dr. Bruce Banner.

“I – what happened?” You asked. Before he could answer, Spiderman walked in and took the seat by your bed.

“I’ll let you guys talk. I’m going to be with Tony, Pete. Call me if you need something. And for god’s sake, take this goddamn mask off.” Bruce chided and left.

You looked at Spiderman who slowly took off his mask and your mouth dropped open. These brown eyes and hair.

“Peter?” You gasped and he nodded, abashed.

“I’m sorry I had to hide like this. I was going to let you know.” He explained. His eyes widened like he really really wanted you to understand.

“You’re Spiderman? So that’s where you got all those cuts from” You said, and he nodded. You raked a hand through your hair and winced when they tangled in some knots. “Thank you, Peter, for saving me. The fire, I – I don’t know what happened.”

Peter took your hands in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. You frowned, trying to take your hand away but he resisted.

“Of course, I saved you. Sammy would have killed you otherwise.” He remarked and you started.

“Sammy? He’s here?” You almost jumped out the bed and Peter pushed down on your shoulder.

“Y/n, you don’t understand. Sammy was the kidnapper. He…he faked it.”

Peter was speaking but not making any sense. Why the hell would Sammy do that? You saw his bloodied pictures, you saw his torn off toe and fingernails.

“You’re mistaken.” You whisper but Peter shook his head.

“No, of course you’ll believe that. Sammy worked as a temp here last year. He got into Shield’s database and has been using that information to torture you. He faked it darling.” Peter said and pressed another kiss on your hand.

“That’s a lie. He never worked here! He was working for a family downtown!” You shouted and Peter nodded at you.

“Yes, but Friday’s data can be manipulated, and people paid off. They will never testify to knowing him.”

It took you a ridiculously long time to come to terms with what Peter said. His fingers were caressing up and down your arm, lips pressing soft kisses on your palm and wrist. You tried to wiggle it free, but he squeezed hard and you cried out.

“Don’t struggle, I don’t wanna hurt you anymore. I almost added too much hallucinogen to the smoke. You really scared me baby. Don’t do that again.” He scolded you and your eyes brimmed with tears. He wiped them away, cupping your cheek and you turned your face away.

“You?”

Peter nodded, his other hand playing with your hair.

“You were always so sweet Y/n. So nice to me, never asking too many questions. Being kind to me when I was beaten up. I have wanted you for months but then you kept talking to your friends about Sammy and it made me so sad. So, I took him away, kidnapped him. I tried to give you a closure, stage it properly. I would have killed him and sent you a picture, consoled you after his death. I asked you out, remember, and you still turned me down. But then you came here, to Mr. Stark. That day I barely managed to corrupt the filed on his laptop, they were so close to finding me. And well, I didn’t even have to manipulate him into sending me at your place. That worked out so smooth. Now, all the evidence is in play. Sammy will be indicted for conspiracy and attempt to murder. And you and me, we can be together.”

You opened your mouth to shout and his hand was promptly there, blocking all sound.

“Shh, don’t baby. I know you’re scared. I know. But Sammy is still with me. I can do anything. Right now, I’ve only cut off a toe and his nails. He’s still breathing. I think he’ll have a way better life in prison than in a grave, yeah?”

Peter leaned down and kissed your tears away, and when he removed his hands only sobs escaped your mouth. He cupped your face, looking so kind you doubted if whatever he said actually happened.

“No one will come between us. You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.”

He pressed his lips to yours and you closed your eyes in surrender.

+++++

Taglist: @shooting-star-love @what-is-your-wish @littlegasps

Taglist is open

#dark!peter x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #dark!fic

447 notes · View notes

heelmcmahon · 4 years ago

Text

Ring Games ♛ Adam Cole

fem!reader x adam cole

18+ readers

warnings: just smut lol

word count: 3337

- The daughter of Shawn Michaels, Y/N, is a wrestler in NXT. She currently feuds with NXT women's champion, Shayna Baszler in a storyline. Her good friend, Finn Balor is the #1 contender for the NXT championship, currently held by Adam Cole. A mixed tag match has been set up for NXT Takeover: Atlanta, winner takes all, no DQ with both titles on the line.

----------

You do your final stretches before having to walk down the ramp to the ring. This would be the biggest match of your WWE career thus far. You and your tag partner for the night, Finn Balor were hoping to win your respective titles in a hard fought match in the main event. This would be his 3rd title reign and your 2nd. You previously held the title for 89 days before losing it to Shayna Baszler in a ladder match. Your rematch had finally arrived.

You feel a hand on your shoulder whilst shaking off any nerves you may have. You turn your head to see one of your opponents for the night, Adam Cole. Adam was never really a friendly guy to you. He loved to tease you and make sarcastic jokes and snarky comments. There wasn't really any bad blood, he's just an annoying guy to be around. Also, everyone knew how much of a flirt he was. You couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of tension between the two of you. He knew it too. You two are always flirting with each other, you more subtle than him. Your most common form of flirtatiousness was nicknames.

"Hey, Michaels. Don't wine too much when you come up short tonight, it's not easy facing a guy like Adam Cole Bay Bay.", he says. Your ring name is Melody Michaels, after your dad, the Heartbreak Kid, Shawn Michaels. It was hard at first to make a name for yourself in this business without being compared to your dad all the time, but soon you realized you could embrace it and be your own person at the same time. You take a lot of inspiration from him with your moveset. Hopefully tonight will really take your career to the next level.

"Sure, Cole. I'll do my best, just for you." you replied back with a fake smile so he clearly knew you were being sarcastic.

"This outfit you've put together tonight is really something different. I've never seen you wear something like it." He's clearly checking you out since you catch his eyes on your thighs. He was right though. Tonight you had new gear made for the special occasion of main eventing Takeover. You wear a dark purple set. It consists of a top that cuts off a little bit below your boobs with thick straps that cross across your back like an X. The top is sparkly and is lined with rhinestones. The bottoms are high waisted and reach just under your butt. They are super tight and lift a little above your thighs on the sides. They are also coated in glitter and lined with rhinestones. You wear your normal black fishnet tights, black knee pads, and your wrestling boots. You also decide to do your makeup a little heavier than usual. Nothing too extreme but still flawless and noticeable. You're also wearing your signature black leather jacket with a broken heart on the back to carry the legacy of your father. Your hair is curled and hangs low to the middle of your back.

"Yeah well I want to look good when Finn and I win our titles back". You don't look at him when you respond; you stay focussed on your warmup.

"Whatever you say, babe. I'll see you in the ring then." He walks past you but not before sending a wink your way. You simply roll your eyes and dismiss it.

----------

"And his tag team partner, from Chandler, Arizona: Melody Michaels!" The crowd roars as your name is announced and theme song plays. Finn stands by the end of the ramp waiting for you. You share a quick look, nod to each other, and then proceed to the ring. Shayna and Adam stand in the back corner of the ring eyeing you down. Finn walks up the stairs and holds the ropes open for you. You step in and walk with confidence to the front of the ring, facing the hard camera. You hold your arms out and yell words to pump up you and the crowd. You do the same for the right side of the ring and then turn your back to the camera to acknowledge the fans behind you. Finn waits in the ring for you to finish your entrance while Shayna looks around at the crowd with an annoyed face as they chant your name. Adam however can't keep his eyes off you. He has a sly smirk on his face. Your music dies down and you go stand next to Finn, across from Adam and Shayna.

"The following contest is a Mixed Gender Tag Team Winner Take All Extreme Rules Match! And it is for the NXT Women's Championship and the NXT Championship! Introducing first: the challengers. Melody Michaels and Finn Balor!

You and Finn step forward and acknowledge the fans cheering for you. You turn your head to yell in your opponents faces. "Better say goodbye to your title reigns because those championships are coming back to where they belong." Shayna simply rolls her eyes but Adam responds. "Not a chance, babe. Now backup and let the champs get introduced." He says.

You take a step back and think about his words. He is such a flirty jerk, but you couldn't help but feel butterflies when he called you babe this time around.

When Alicia Taylor introduces Adam and Shayna, you watch Adam take a few steps forward and yell at the crowd. Shayna does her signature "Queen of Spades" pose. They turn back around and hold their titles up to the ref. Adam sends you another quick wink, but before you can process it, the bell is rung.

----------

You're about 15 minutes into the match. Finn and Adam lay outside the ring trying to regain some strength after they both went through tables. You and Shayna fight in the ring. You hit her with a fisherman suplex and go for the pin. She kicks out at 2. Before she can get back up, you grab her and put her in her own submission, the Kirifouda Clutch. She is slowly fading, but she reversed it and somehow gets your shoulders pinned to the mat. You also kick out at 2. You both get back to your feet. She charges at you and you use her momentum to send her over the top rope. Shayna now stands on the apron. You run to the ropes to gain momentum and spear her through the middle rope. She hits the floor hard. You throw your hands up and taunt to the crowd. However, when you turn back around, Adam Cole stands in the ring.

"What is it, Cole? Are you gonna punch me?" You ask in a fake pouty voice with a puppy dog lip. You hold your hands around your back in an innocent way.

"I could never hit you, babe. You know that." he says looking down at you.

You find a wave of confidence come over you as the crowd cheers. You respond, "Well, what is it that you want, handsome?" Your hand now rest on Adam's bare chest as you get a little closer to him. His face shows that he is surprised by the nickname you've given him.

"Come on now, Michaels, you know what I want." He takes a step closer to you with a seductive look on his face. Now it's his turn to place his hands on your body. He rests them low on your waist.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Finn start to make it to his feet again. You play along with Adam while you see Finn slide into the ring. You also take a step closer to Adam and lift your head up a bit (if it's even possible to get closer). Your mouths are just inches away from touching.

"I'm not sure I do, Cole. But I do know one thing, maybe you should turn around."

He looks confused as he turns around. You get out of the way so Finn can hit Adam with a sling blade. Adam lays on the ground and you look down at him, "Sorry, handsome, I guess that's just what happens when you aren't paying attention." You send him a wink.

Finally, Finn Balor climbs to the top rope and hits Adam with the Coup de Grace. Before he goes for the pin, you see Shayna get back in the ring. With your quick thinking, you tune up the band and kick her square in the face with some Sweet Chin Music. You and Finn both go for the cover on your opponents.

3! The bell rings.

"Here are your winners, and new NXT Women's Champion and NXT Champion: Melody Michaels and Finn Balor!"

The crowd is going crazy. You pull Finn in for a hug and then clink your titles together in a celebratory fashion. Shayna looks beyond pissed. Adam on the other hand, has a look of pure anger, but yet a look of lust is written on his face. You blow him a kiss and display a smirk as you and Finn exit the ring. You walk up the ramp with your backs to the titantron as Adam Cole is still staring you down.

You and Finn walk through the curtain and arrive backstage. You two are greeted with hugs, congratulations, water bottles, and towels. You place your titles down on a road case.

"I had such a great time tagging with you tonight, Y/N", Finn says, "Hopefully we'll get another mixed tag match soon."

"I couldn't agree more, Finn! You seriously killed it out there. I'll see you tomorrow for lunch?" you say.

"You know it. See ya then, Y/N". He gives you a long hug and walks towards the men's locker room.

It isn't long before Adam and Shayna come through the curtain. Shayna shakes your hand and you two have a quick and casual conversation about the match and working together. Then, Adam walks your way. With no warning at all, he grabs your hand pulls you out of gorilla. He drags you through the halls of the arena until you reach his private locker room that he shares with the rest of the Undisputed Era. The room is empty since the Kyle, Bobby, and Roddy left after their matches earlier in the show.

Adam pulls you into the room and quickly shuts the door. He wastes no time before pushing you up against the wall. His left hand is placed on your lower back, pulling you close to him so your lower halves are touching. His right hand is next to your head, resting on the wall. Your faces are extremely close together, but there is still a few inches in between you.

"What the hell was that out there? Huh? Explain to me what that was all about?" Adam says, clearly extremely annoyed.

You decide to act dumb and play innocent. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, babe." You stare into his blazing blue eyes.

"Don't play dumb with me, Y/N. You distracted me in the ring and I lost my title because of it. So, now you're gonna pay for it." Adam has an intense and serious look on his face but his eyes long with lust.

You reply to him, your faces now closer than ever. Your hands roam Adam's chest and slide over every part of his abs, quickly looking down at them. "Oh? I'm gonna pay for it? How so?" You look up at him again.

"We are going back to my hotel room and I'm gonna fuck you into the mattress until you scream my name loud for everyone to hear." He says.

You answer simply. "I'll meet you at your car in 10." Your hands slide down Adam's arms and you pull away from him, exiting the room, but not before winking at him for the millionth time tonight.

You walk to the women's locker room. You strip out of your sweaty ring gear and put on your casual everyday clothes. You wear a pair of leggings, a cropped yellow top, with white shoes. You pair it with your WWE PC jacket since it is a bit chilly tonight. You grab your large bag and carry it out to the parking lot.

The walk to Adam's car was much easier than you thought it would be. You spot him leaning on the driver door. He looks up from his phone and sees you coming, so he hops into the driver's seat.

---

The car ride back to the hotel was only about 4 minutes. It was silent, but not awkward. You could not wait to get inside and let Adam see and touch every part of your body.

When Adam pulls up to the hotel, you both grab all of your items, walk in, and check in. You walk up to a desk and Adam talks to the lady at the desk next to you. Somehow he finishes checking in before you and walks over to the desk you're being helped at.

"You can just cancel her room", he tells the front desk lady helping you, "she's gonna stay with me tonight," he tell the woman. You shoot him a very knowing look. The front desk lady looks at you and says, "You don't need this room?". You look up at Adam and he's looking down at you. His face looks so serious and stern. He simply states to you, "You don't need that room, Y/N." You look back to the lady at the desk and say, "Sorry, I won't be needing a room tonight." She looks down at her computer screen pushing some buttons. Before she gets the chance to look back up, you are pulled by the arm to the nearest elevator.

Before you can even say one word to Adam about that whole front desk show he just put on, his lips are planted on yours. You hear a ding, signaling that the elevator doors are closing.

With no thinking at all, you kiss him back. Your back is pressed to a wall in the elevator. Adam's hands are set low on your back. You have one on his chest and one in his hair. The kiss is so passionate and full of desire. You both want more. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You allow him to deepen the kiss. When he does, a soft sound escapes your lips. This makes Adam crazy. He removes his left hand and places it on your butt. Eventually, his hand rises from your butt to your waist. He plays with the hem of your cropped tank top signaling that he wants it off. Before the kiss can escalate anymore, the elevator doors open. Both of you break the kiss, quickly gather your bags, and move as fast as you can to Adam's hotel room, which apparently you were staying in tonight.

Adam opens the door and you both enter. He pulls you to the bed and pushes you to sit on the edge of the bed. He slowly crawls over you, his hand roaming your body the whole time. Finally, Adam says something, "You're gonna do whatever I say. The only thing I want to hear coming from your mouth is my name. Do you understand?" His voice is very stern. You nod with fake innocence written all over your face, excited for what's to come.

"Good girl." Adam's mouth attacks yours again. His hair drapes over your face like a curtain. His hand reaches for your shirt again. This time, he pulls it off your body. Adam breaks the kiss to pull your leggings and panties off in one go, as you remove your bra. Adam stands up and removes his clothing as well. When he lays back down, you climb on top.

Another strong and sloppy kiss begins. This time Adam shows dominance as he attacks your neck and shoulders instead of your mouth. You let moans escape your mouth. Your fingers are laced in Adam's long hair. Shortly later, Adam gives you a command. "On your back, now."

You remove yourself from Adam's grasp and lay down on the bed. Adam takes in the sight of your naked body. "Damn, babe. I've been waiting for this moment for so long" Adam says. You let out a slight giggle.

Next, Adam gives you no warning and slide one finger deep into your soaking wet pussy. You groan loudly, not expecting the sudden pleasure. Adam seems satisfied with your reaction. He slides in another finger, pumping in out out. Now you're really a moaning mess. Adam takes your vocalness as a sign to add another finger. He slides in and out of your body at a rapid pace. You yell out, "Oh god! Adam! Please!" When Adam feels that you are getting close to your climax, he pulls his fingers out of you. "Good girls get to come, you cost me my title. This isn't going to be easy for you, babe." Adam says to you. You try to catch your breath as ecstasy almost washes over you. You close your legs and wine a bit, not getting the full feeling of overwhelming pleasure.

Adam harshly opens your legs back up. Once again with no warning at all, he slams his cock into you. Now you really scream out. Feeling embarrassed, you drape your arm over your moth in an attempt to keep quiet. Adam notices this and pins your arms on the bed on each side of your head. "Not today, babe, I want you to scream my name so everyone in the building knows who's giving you the best sex of your life."

And with that, Adam picks up the pace. He slams into your body over and over and over, watching you every step of the way. Skin slapping and the bed creaking fills the room. The sounds that escape your mouth make Adam thrust even harder. Suddenly, he rams hard into your g-spot.

"Oh my fucking god! Adam! Don't stop! Oh god!" You moan in pleasure.

"That's right, baby, yell my name. Scream it." Adam lowly groans out.

"Adam, I'm gonna come," you say.

"Not until I hear you screaming my name." Adam says. He thrusts even harder than before, slamming every time directly into your g-spot. Except now, his thumbs plays around with your clit.

"Adam! Adam! Oh my fuck- Adam! Shit!" You finally scream out. Your vision is quickly taken away as your eyes are tightly shut. The ecstasy and pleasure washing over you right now in this moment is unlike any other sex you've had before.

Adam finally allows you to release, "That's right, baby, fuckin' scream it." He releases shortly after into your pussy. You both ride out your orgasms as Adam thrusts slowly and deeply into your body.

Adam lays on the bed next to you as you both catch your breath.

"Fucking shit, Adam," you say.

He laughs quietly and replies, "I hope you're ready for round 2, tonight isn't gonna be easy for you."

And with that, the rest of the night was spent fucking until daylight. As the night went on, Adam became more and more aggressive. You seriously didn't know if you would be able to walk at all tomorrow. But that's tomorrow's problem, right now you're just focussed on Adam... and will be all night.

#adamcole #adam cole x reader #adamcolewwe #adamcoleroh #adamcolesmut #wwesmut #adam cole imagine #imagines #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wrestling #wrestling imagine

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clydesgod · 4 years ago

Text

‘the 9th layer’

Feat. Richard, and, another person

(A more relaxed drabble now, featuring Richard’s favourite bar and his favourite barkeep.)

TW: Alcohol, light sexual themes

——————————————–

Trodding along the wet pavement, Richard hobbled through the street and made a turn towards a little alleyway. The alleyway wasn’t inhabited. In fact, there were a few small shops and bars thrown about. He kept moving on though, not really caring about them. It wasn’t like he went to those ones at all anyway. He had only one place on his mind, after all.

‘The 9th layer’, the most decent bar in this city.

Upon entering the little room, Richard took off his leather jacket and hung it up on the wide array of hooks in front of him. Looked like it was just him today. Good, he sorta liked it that way when it wasn’t loud. He made his way past a small curtain and into the main area of the bar where there were cushioned stools lined up against the main bar area, with little seating areas being them in case you didn’t at all fancy sitting so close to there. It was amazing how well this place was doing despite the lack of space.

Richard took a seat near the bar, pulling the chair out and dragging it across the floor to indicate to the bartender that he was in and waiting for a drink. A little bit rude, sure, but Richie knew how much Mattias didn’t like being yelled at.

Swiftly, a latch opened up from behind the bar, and a skinny, but tall figure came out of it. He was climbing on a ladder, and struggled a bit upon getting out. Nothing to worry about though, it happened a lot to him.

Whilst Richard was gray, Mattias was almost entirely purple. Some parts of his face and body had patches that were lighter than the rest. His ears were long and pointed and his eyes were black, except for his irises, which were red. He was wearing a nice white shirt, with a dated but stylish waistcoat and striped pants. He was probably wearing suspenders under there too. Upon leaving the hatch and closing it, he stood all the way up without bending his back forward. He had to be at least 7’4’, though his horns made him look 4 inches taller. He had some hair, though it was rather short and slicked back. He had a very tiny goatee as well, one that looked barely noticeable if you were looking at him from afar.

“The usual please, Matti.” Richard asked, resting his elbows and forearms against the bar as he leaned on over. He looked at the wide array of spirits he had on display too. He began to wonder if anyone actually asked for those, he never saw Mattias turn around to take one from it’s slot. Was it just for decoration?

Mattias made a noise of agreement and got to work, taking out a clean glass from below, spinning it so the open end was on the top, and placed it against a tap that was labeled ‘Asahi’. He began to pour, not making any noise as he stared straight into the golden, frothy liquid that was pouring out.

Richard stared along at it too, loving the way he poured drinks. Was there even a style to that? He didn’t really consider if bartenders and mixologists had their own way of pouring stuff.

“Y’know,” Richard began, readjusting himself on his stool as he spoke. “I was thinking about getting into mixology myself. Seems fun to do.”

“...very good.” Mattias replied, eyes hardly connecting with Richard’s as he turned off the tap and placed the beer right in front of Richard, making sure it was on a coaster provided so it wouldn’t ruin the bar he had just cleaned.

Richard wasted no time, reaching for it and promptly taking a casual first sip. It was refreshing, especially after a long day at work. ‘Must’ve been hard to Mattias,’ he wondered. Mainly because he hardly ever saw Mattias outside of his work place, except for bumping into him in the local store. He was calm, a man of few words.

“Aaaah. Lovely pint as always. My compliments to the barkeep.”

“...thank you.”

...Maybe a man of too few words. Things got awkward pretty quick. He took a rag and started to clean an empty glass to pass the time, he didn’t like leaving customers alone.

Richard took another swig, tapping a finger on the bar.

“So...you er, done anything fun today?”

“...not really.”

“Seen any new films?”

“...no.”

“...err...has Vitalis been in here today? I haven’t seen him.”

“...apologies, I have not.”

“...Y’know, I met a guy wayyyyyyyyy taller than you recently. Dude was like, 9 foot something. He was cool.”

“...very interesting mr Clydesgod.”

“...”

“...So how’s your lady friend Nessa then?”

Mattias froze, almost dropping his glass as a light pink hue appeared on his face. He looked over at Richard, his calm demeanour ceasing to exist.

“We-She is NOT my lady friend,” He replied, his accent finally revealing itself. He sounded Eastern European, from the Baltics if Richard remembered correctly. “She is just a customer who visits and runs her mouth a bit. She pays well, unlike you.”

“By running her mouth do you mean she’s helping you out?~ Common is she under there or somethin’?” Richard asked, attempting to lean over to view under the bar until Mattias pushed Richard’s shoulders back down, firmly onto the stool.

“You little...ugh, why do you always have to come here and act like such a twerp? I’ve dealt with annoying teens before but you’re somehow just, worse.” Mattias went back to cleaning his glass, placing it down below by simply squatting.

“It’s just nice to hear your voice after all. It’s so deep, no wonder the ladies go CRAZY for it.” He laughed, taking a rather bigger swig this time. “Man. Why do you gotta be so scared of milfs all the time?”

“Stop. Saying. That damn word!” The purple demon replied, gritting his teeth as he resisted the urge to throw a glass at him. “It’s not my fault people come here to pay attention to me! I’m only here to provide drinks and let the customers have their own fun. Not to get dragged into dates. Not like I can go on any. Work takes too much time.”

Richard scoffed.

“Hire someone then. Go get, like, 2 bartenders, so you can go out on the town and score some points with the hot older ladies,” He took another big swig, almost finishing his drink already. “What are you scared of anyway? Most ladies here seem to take a shine to you anyway, they leave the most tips!”

“It’s...complicated you lollakas,” He replied, turning around to make sure all the spirits and hard liquors were well organized. “I’ve got the bar to manage, little Uno to feed, taxes to do, myself to feed, a bunch of other stuff I cannot care less for. I don’t have enough time to get into a silly little relationship at the current moment.”

“...At the current moment?~” Richard asked, an eyebrow rising. Mattias’ blush simply grew bigger.

“S-shut-you. Ugh. Sa tapad mu,” He muttered, going back to organizing everything before he closes up. He looked behind, seeing Richard finishing his glass. “Don’t bother asking for another, you need to pay for this week and, besides, I’m closing up for the night.”

“Why’d you think I came then?” Richard replied, reaching behind and taking out a wallet. He rummaged around for a bit, taking out quite a lot of money and holding it out towards him. Mattias gave Richard a strange look, but took the money anyway. He counted it all, flicking through each note rapidly and taking a mental note of the total sum. Once worked out, he began to take some of the notes away.

“Hey, keep the change,” Richard replied, getting off of the stool and stretching. “Oof, that was a fine glass. I’ll see you around tomorrow Matti.” He started to walk off, waving behind at his favourite barkeep.

Mattias said nothing, simply staring and huffing before moving to the register and depositing the cash inside of it. There went his favorite patron. Well, maybe not his most favourite. There was Nessa-

He shook his head, taking Richard’s glass and placing it into a glass washer nearby. He checked his watch, it was Uno’s feeding time in a bit. Poor tortoise. He wondered if he could even realize how much work he did so the poor creature wouldn’t starve.

He sighed, turning on the glass washer and stretching his arms to the sides as to not knock anything over.

...Maybe he’d give Nessa a call tonight...

#{lore}#{dyn gafr🐐 : Richard Clydesgod}#{man of many words🍺 : Mattias Pärn}#// :3c #// tw: alcohol #{nsfw implied cw}

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saltmageelliexiv · 4 years ago

Photo

Disclaimer: This story has mild mentions of sexual situations. Please do not proceed if you’re uncomfortable with said themes. Story kept beneath a cut for the sake of not taking up dashboard space. Just as well: be nice, as I tried my best.

The sun had begun to rise in the snow-capped city of Ishgarde; the morning was one the highlander had experienced quite often. Ever the early riser when visiting a client, the sunlight breaking through the white curtains certainly helped with forcing her to rouse from her deep sleep. Her dark hair practically splayed across her body, even on the soft pillows that carefully cradled her head. Carefully adjusting herself, she’d pull her hair out of her face, moving to sit up in the bed, her head throbbing in pain. The night before was fueled with alcohol and a manner of indulgences, as she played the part of the loyal pet to a amorous nobleman whom she met with regularly. Just a slight glance to the side, she was greeted with his sleeping face.

‘Ever the heavy sleeper... I wonder how often his wife sees this.’

While the relationship between them was strictly business, he had paid for her to fulfill the fantasy for the previous night, as well as the following day. Even if she desired to return to her home, and take the time to herself to relax, she still had a job to do. Her fingers gently worked through his tawny locks, brushing the soft strands out of his face as he slept. For a second, her claw-like nails brushed against the rounded tip of his ear. While it was common for elezen lords to reside in Ishgarde, there was the odd hyuran or two, this man being one of them. The sensation Eliceyn’s fingers running through his hair was enough to rouse him from his sleep, the light reflecting softly off his cerulean eyes.

A slight smile tugged at the man’s lips. “You are succor sent by the twelve.” Before she could take her hand away, he took the courtesan’s hand in his own, peppering it gently with kisses. “Sleep well?”

‘Don’t get caught up in the act. You know better.’

Eliceyn returned the smile, letting the hyuran noble indulge in his desire to touch her. “Of course.”

While he kept her hand in hers, she used her free hand to straighten her hair, to the best of her ability, as well as rub her eyes, ridding of the ‘sleep’ along with it. She took a moment to take in her surroundings; a near pristine room, decorated with different shades of blue and teals, accented with black and silver. Not uncommon with nobility of Ishgarde. Taking her hand back for a brief moment, Eliceyn lifted her arms above her head, a soft groan escaping her as she allowed herself a morning stretch. Bare of any clothing, the nobleman next to her took the second to admire the far eastern beauty before him once again.

“Who knew such beauty could be lured to my bed... are you finished over there?” He’d prop himself up with his elbow, his eyes glued to her. While she was taking the time to wake up, he was taking the time to commit her bare form to memory.

The temptation to roll her eyes was gnawing at her, but she couldn’t afford to be rude. This man’s impatience aside, he was one of her highest paying clients, someone she couldn’t afford to offend. She’d bring a finger up, noting him to simply relax, and give her a moment. Next to her was a small bedside table, where some small trinkets and the more minor bearings of her personal belongings laid. Sifting through it, she grabbed a black hairband and hair pin, putting both in her lap. Bundling her hair into a ponytail, she’d twist it into a bun, holding it together with one hand, as she’d bring the hair band around it, looping it around three times before securing it with the hair pin.

“There we go. Now was that so bad?” She playfully teased the nobleman, a sly smirk forming on her lips.

“Yes, it was horrible. Now come over here.” Without even waiting for her to respond, he’d quickly tug her arm, being gentle as to not hurt her, his aim to pull her on top of him. Even if she was simply someone who’s company he purchased, he didn’t want to have to worry about becoming the next target for her infamous wrath.

With the awkward positioning, she was half-laying on top of him, her chest on his own, but her hips and legs still on her side of the bed. By now she knew what this meant with him. Lifting herself slightly to allow her to readjust, she’d carefully slip one leg on the other side, allowing herself to straddle him, though she didn’t lay back down, giving him what he could only consider ‘the perfect view’. The man grinned slyly, as he eyed the courtesan’s body up and down. He could never get tired of such beauty.

“You know, my wife won’t be back home until tomorrow... and the servants won’t be awake for another three hours. I wouldn’t mind a repeat of last night.” One of his hands began to travel up her stomach slowly, feeling the toned muscle that laid beneath the soft pale flesh. “You certainly had a way of igniting my passions. Then again, such exotic beauties like you have always lit the fires within me.”

‘Liar... I wonder how often you said lines to your wife, or your other whores.’

“If you’re to have a repeat of last night, my lord, then you’re going to have to work for it this time. After all, what we do is a game for two, not a game for one.” The highlander softly whispered those words, ever the coy creature she was for her clients. She knew very well what he was looking for; he wanted someone who acted demure, but was still a tease. Such an act was child’s play for her, and if she was going to be acting a part, she may as well try and get some form of fun out of it.

The hyur smirked to the highlander; just as much as he liked it when she played coy, he did enjoy when she subtly told him what she wanted. His hand wandered from her front, moving around his side to her back. “Well then, why don’t I see if I can make you purr like you did last night.”

Bringing his free hand up, he’d use his index finger to beckon her to move her hips upward. After she had readjusted herself, she placed her hands on the wall, letting him to the rest. Not long did the sounds of the night before begin to ring out of the room once again. A mixture of heavy breaths, moans, the squeaking of the bed, and soft bangs of the headboard filled the room and the halls outside. The early morning the two spent indulging in each other, and though last night Eliceyn focused on pleasing her client, this time, he aimed to return the favor.

Their early morning raptures had taken away what little energy the woman had in her, leaving her just as exhausted as she was when she went to bed the night before. The pair spending the remnants of their energy, their time alone was interrupted by knocking at their door. It was about time for the servants to wake up, but only the nobleman could answer; not only due to the servants only listening to him, but Eliceyn being far too worn out to move from the bed, let alone get dressed.

“Wait here, I’ll take care of it, my dear.” He spoke to the courtesan in a gentle voice, taking care to not be as firm as he was earlier. Their private time had been interrupted, and he had to keep up the respectable act in case someone was listening in. Moving out of the bed, he picked up a nearby robe, slipping it on and tying it shut, just barely opening the door to slip outside to answer who came knocking.

‘Might as well get cleaned up. Thankfully he didn’t reenact last night to complete accuracy. I can get away with a simple whore’s bath...’

The situation wasn’t ideal, but she had to get herself fixed up somehow. First and foremost, cleaning herself up. A bath wasn’t an option, so she had to wipe herself down as best as she could. She was quite thankful that this bedroom was meant for guests, and had a small washroom off to the side. A quick soak of a washcloth in hot water, she wiped herself down from head to toe, paying heavy attention to her back and her nether regions. Once she was finished, she rinsed the washcloth as best as she could, tossing it into a small basin where other dirty clothes were collected. Before leaving, she’d even give her face a quick wash with cold water; it wasn’t effective, but at least it gave her a shot of energy and helped her cool down. Now all that was left was to get dressed.

‘Thankfully I didn’t wear one of my more luxurious kimonos yesterday. I can actually tie this by myself. To think... I had fallen so reliant on others to help me with such menial tasks.’

Grabbing all of her clothing that laid on the floor, little by little, Eliceyn collected herself. She put on her undergarments, slipped her arms through the sleeves of her kimono before closing the front, and carefully wrapped the sash around it to keep it closed. But she couldn’t help but wonder, what was taking her guest so long to get back? Surely he would have sent whoever it was away by now. Apt to investigate herself, she had made her way to the door, determined to figure out just what was keeping her guest, only for the door to be forced open with such fervor that the swing caused the breeze it created to blow the soft strands of hair that hung in her face behind her. The cause? Her guest, returning to the room in a panic, looking as if he saw a ghost.

“You have to leave. NOW.” His voice was shaken, his face devoid of color as it was damp with a cold sweat.

Eliceyn raised a brow, curious, and deep down, agitated, that she were being ushered out of the room in such an unceremonious manner. Just why was she the one being sent away? She was told she could stay longer; while she didn’t care for who she was in company with, it wasn’t often she could lay in such oppulence.

“Why do I need to leave? What has you in such a fright?” Her voice was firm, as she demanded to know the answer.

The man collected himself, slipping on some proper clothes, spraying himself with a musky fragrance, and cleaning up his hair. “My wife is here. You need to leave before she sees you. She must never know you were here.”

Before she could even raise her own concerns over the situation, the man grabbed her by her arm, pulling her roughly out the room, down a number of halls and a set of stairs, leading her to a small door out of the way. Opening it, he’d practically pull her out of it, shutting it behind him. For the moment, he was able to breathe, collecting himself as to not make himself look suspicious.

“I promise you. Next time, I will make it up to you, my love. I swear.” Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out a small satchel, bringing it to her hand, and pushing it to her. “Take this, as a token of my apologies. I’ll have my men bring the rest of your payment to the inns where you’re staying. I am sorry, if my wife discovered you here... she’d chop off my manhood and throw me to the hounds in the brume.”

‘Hmph... I may vomit...’

Even she couldn’t put up the act; she was quite angry about this. She didn’t care about his secrets being discovered, nor what any petty spouse could do to her. What she cared about was being treated with such disgusting actions. The man would move in for a kiss, quickly being stopped as Eliceyn held a hand up to his lips.

“Not this time. Go.” She gave no other words, not even a farewell as the man hesitantly turned to go back into the door, leaving her outside in the snow by herself. Leaving her to go back to wherever she came from.

“She’ll have your manhood alright...” She let out a scoff. “What’s left of it...”

With a sigh, Eliceyn only had one thing she could do; go to the inns, and get as much sleep as she could. After a long soak, where she could be alone, with some peace and quiet. Such things were not new to her; she knew the course of actions. When a wife or spouse was around, it was time for her to go. But today, it reminded her just where she is in the social circle. She was her own master; not meant to be in a cage like a pet, not meant to be loyal to anyone but herself.

The mask that she wore continued to grow heavy, but she could only do what she did best; hold it steady where it was, and never let it slip.

“Don’t let them see what’s under the mask, no matter what they do. Don’t even let you see yourself without it. The you beneath it doesn’t matter to anyone.”

‘Trust me... I never will let it slip.’

#OOC #My Writing #Eliceyn Birch #Not my best but I tried dangit

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beyond-the-mirror · 5 years ago

Text

Music of the Night (V x Reader)

Well this chapter took longer than expected! But it’s finally done and I hope it’s up to your expectations.

Tagging @thedyingmoon and @minteyeddemon since they were very interested in the concept of this fic. Please enjoy!

Warning: Child abuse, please read with caution. If this theme makes you uncomfortable you can skip the first part in italics.

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

Chapter 3: Songs of Innocence and Experience

“Gather round everyone! Come to our Freak Show and see! Bear witness to the most shocking collection of human abominations on earth!”

A rather tall man shouted at the top of his lungs, inviting the crowd into a rather dull tent situated behind him.

Fortuna’s local carnival was definitely not the most impressive touristic attraction the city had to offer, located in a barren terrain at the outskirts of it. The rides barely received any maintenance, small piles of garbage accumulated in some corners, and the stench excrement coming from the pet zoo impregnated the air. As unappealing as the entire carnival looked, it still offered the commoners a chance at having fun for a very few coins.

The announcer, known by the many staff members as Mr. Buoncuore, kept beckoning at the passersby, some of them feeling curious about what lurked inside the mysterious tent that housed the Freak Show, and paying him for an entry ticket. After enough people had gathered around to form a small group, the man flashed his rotten teeth.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves to witness our fascinating collection of nature’s most bizarre wonders. Please come in, let our tour begin.”

The inside of the tent was poorly lit, only a few lights worked and they hardly illuminated anything. Mounted walls divided the ample room into narrow cubicles where the “freaks” were showcased, at least the stage lights in each cubicle did function properly.

Unlike the jovial environment outside, the interior of the installation was rather gloomy and almost depressive. As the group was guided through the pavilion, they were introduced to the freaks displayed, which included a bearded lady, a pair of conjoined twins, a man covered head to toe in dark thick hair, and many more. Some performed small circus acts to entertain the spectators, others simply sat in sorrowful silence as they were being watched. Poor unfortunate men and women whose only sin was being born with a malformation, condemning them to be mere exhibitions to the morbidly curious side of mankind.

At the farthest end of the pavilion, a single cubicle mounted over a short stage platform and hidden behind a red velvet curtain stood out from the rest. Many believed this one to be the final and most important specimen in the freak show, and couldn’t wait to find out just what was hidden behind the fancy curtain.

Finally reaching the end of the tour, Mr. Buoncuore gathered everyone at the front of the small stage. Many whispered voices expressed their intrigue at the mystery behind the curtain. And soon enough, Buoncuore made an announcement.

“And now, we shall reveal to to you our final and finest specimen of our valuable collection. Prepare yourselves to be amazed, for this is no ordinary freak after all, one so outrageous that mere words can’t describe its cursed existence.”

The crowd stared in complete suspense at the cubicle. After a brief pause, Buoncuore continued with his speech. “I present to you, an unfortunate soul forsaken by God, a soul marked by demons themselves since the day they were brought to this mortal world. I present to you… Il Figlio del Diavolo! The Devil’s Child!”

Immediately the curtain was pulled up, revealing its interior. The crowd gasped at the sight.

A little boy, only five years old, was chained to the floor at the center of the cubicle behind a set of bars. He seemed malnourished, his skin a sickly pale color, and his long black curls were dull and unkempt. The infant wasn’t wearing a shirt nor shoes, only an old, torn pair of pants that reached bellow his knees. Several bruises and cuts covered his fragile body, some were already healed, others were still fresh.

However, what caught everyone’s attention were the deep dark markings that covered the child’s entire torso and arms. Swirls of black ink coursed through the boy’s skin, reaching up to his neck and the tips of his fingers in intricate and surreal paths and patterns. The ink had such a saturated color, an unnatural aura in them, it was obvious they were no regular tattoos; in fact, many swore they could see the ink actually moving on its own.

The sight was so surreal, so unbelievable…

“I-I-It’s a demon! A demon!” One of the spectators yelled at the sight before him. Other voices soon accompanied the first comment. “A demon has claimed this boy!” “That child is not human!”

Uncertainty and confusion took over the small crowd at the sight before them. They pointed at the boy, looked at him in utter disgust, mocked him, whispered profanities and insults at his tiny figure.

And yet the child simply laid still where he was chained with a vacant stare, the spark in his green eyes long lost.

Empty eyes, devoid of any hope.

“Take this you monster!” a teen member of the group picked up a pebble from the dirty ground and threw it at the imprisoned child, hitting him on his head and making him flinch. And soon enough, the rest joined the teen, throwing pebbles at the poor creature, who simply retreated back as far as his shackles permitted and curled up on the ground. Although most of the pebbles couldn’t reach him thanks to both the distance he kept and the bars blocking him, a few still managed to hit their target, leaving another set of cuts and small wounds on his already scarred skin.

The crowd continued their assault relentlessly while Buoncuore simply observed the scene in amusement, his fingers tapping at the handle of the silver cane he always carried pridefully with him.

Tears started to run down the child’s soft face, whimpers shaking his minute body.

“I-I’m not… I-I-I’m not a monster… P-Please stop… I b-beg you…”

He prayed for salvation, for mercy. Every single day, he prayed and prayed…

… But nobody came to save him.

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

His eyes shot open, heavy pants leaving his lungs in a desperate attempt to recover oxygen, a thin layer of sweat covered his face and body making his skin glisten in the dim light of his chamber.

The man sat up on the mattress to try and compose himself, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He ran a hand through his ebony locks, a habit he regularly did when feeling anxious in general.

It was merely a nightmare. One he wished he could forget, but kept coming back to haunt no matter how much he tried.

After a few minutes passed and his body finally relaxed, giving him the chance to stand up from his bed and lightly stumble towards the bathroom. Finding purchase in the old porcelain sink, he opened the tap, letting out a sigh of relief when a stream of clean fresh water managed to come out of it. At least the well that provided for the house hasn’t dried up yet to his fortune.

The man proceeded to wash his face and hair, hoping that the cold water could give him at least a sense of tranquility from the turmoil his unsavory dream caused in him.

Closing the tap, the man looked up and stared at his own reflection in the mirror in front of him. The ethereal markings on his partially nude body greatly contrasted with the almost sickly pale skin, looking almost alive as if the were made of slithering wisps of smoke and ashes. Rising a hand towards his face, he once again slicked his hair back, examining the now uncovered part of his visage. New lines had begun to appear, where they would stop at his neck now they started to crawl up his jawline, through his cheekbones and up into his hairline. Some stopped right below his left eye, others seemed to have redirected towards the bridge of his nose.

This new changes were not unusual though. It had been a long time since the lines had last developed after all.

What would happen if they managed to cover his entire face? He didn’t know. All he knew was that the markings will not stop growing. All he knew was that, although he was indeed intrigued by this phenomenon,

a voice deep inside his head assured him… he would not like the answer at all.

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

“We are starting with ‘Lo vidi e ’l primo palpito’. On your positions now!”

Tech rehearsals had begun for ‘Luisa Miller’, the next play to be performed at the Opera. As the current choreographer and dance captain, Trish strived to make rehearsals flow as smoothly as possible. Major setbacks were inconceivable for her, and with a personality as fierce as a lightning bolt, no one dared to challenge her authority nor her decisions.

All the backup dancers and extras took their respective places, their blocking already approved and stablished with no further changes. Meanwhile, Madame Carlotta beckoned her assistants to fetch her prop bouquet and apply some throat spray to her before starting a few vocal warm-ups. After readying herself, she signaled for the maestro to start the aria.

“Non temer: più nobil spirto, alma più calda di virtù non mai vestì spoglia mortal. M'amò! l'amai!”

As Carlotta paced around the stage, the backup dancers began their routine. You twirled around gracefully, perfectly following the path you were instructed to as the scene required. This was Luisa Miller’s, the main character, first aria. A serenade was brought to Luisa in celebration of her birthday, the townspeople gathering and dancing joyfully around her before settling down and letting her continue her song.

“Lo vidi, e 'l primo palpito il cor sentì d'amore; mi vide appena, e il core balzò del mio fedel.”

Once again, the dancers began moving, this time in line to present Luisa their gifts. Carlotta moved between the townspeople, bowing at each one and receiving her gifts. However, you noticed that her steps were longer than necessary, making her invade the blocked paths of some of the dancers. One misstep from her and she was suddenly right in front of you, completely oblivious to her current position. You tried to step out of her way but-

“Quaggiù si riconobbero nostr'alme in rincontrarsi formate per amarsi Iddio le avea in- AHHH!”

You moved a bit too late. Next thing you knew she had collided against you, which caused her to trip and fall backwards.

“Cut the music!” at Trish’s orders, the conductor and the orchestra immediately stopped. The actors and dancers looked distraught at what just happened, worry visible on their faces.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” You immediately reached out and offered a hand to Carlotta to help her get up, but a quick slap against your palm was the only answer you received.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Don’t you know how to move across a stage you amateur?” Carlotta screeched angrily at you while her assistants rushed to her side to help her stand on her feet. Some of the actors as well as Nico ran to your side as soon as they noticed how hostile she was acting towards you.

“But I was just following the blocking! I swear I didn’t mean to-“ You tried your best to defend yourself, you were completely sure you had been in your assigned space and you had even noticed how some of your fellow dancers had trouble maneuvering around Carlotta.

“Oh shut up you-“

“Enough!” Trish interrupted Carlotta’s rant, the entire theatre going dead silent at the powerful tone of her voice. She calmly strode towards you both, a composed but stern look in her eyes. “What exactly happened?”

The moment you opened your mouth to explain, Carlotta interjected furiously. “This girl did this on purpose! She stepped out of her place and because of her mistake I tripped. It’s obvious she hasn’t learned the choreography properly, you must place her at the back of the stage right now!”

Before she could continue further with her rant, Trish silently raised her palm ordering her to keep quiet, then turned to you. “(Y/N)?”

Taking a deep breath, you calmly offered your side of the story “… I’m sorry Madame Trish, but I’m pretty sure I was following the steps correctly. I did my best to avoid running into Carlotta but I couldn’t do it on time.”

Trish acknowledged your words before stating. “It seems this was merely an accident and gladly nobody got hurt. Carlotta, please remember that your blocking hasn’t been stablished as of yet and that we could always modify it to grant you more movement and better avoid this kind of incidents. Alright everyone, on your positions once again!”

With a loud clap from Trish, everyone hurried to their respective places. However, before she could leave the stage, she faced Carlotta once more “As for your request, I’m afraid we can’t grant it. Not only is the blocking already approved, but these last seasons (Y/N) has proved to be an excellent dancer and actress, surpassing by far all our expectations. Now please return to your position.”

Carlotta was fuming, her poor assistants trying their best to calm her down.

At that moment, you began to fear that working with her wasn’t going to be easy at all.

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

Unbeknownst to everyone, the Phantom stood hidden at his usual spot in box number 4, his deep eyes watching over the rehearsals taking place at the stage bellow him. As the backup dancers started their routine however, his gaze was fixated on you right away. He observed carefully your graceful moves, your perfectly calculated steps around the stage.

You looked ethereal, beautiful, marvelous…

“AHHH!”

His eyes widened at the incident that just happened before him. The newest soprano had collided against you, her prancing around the stage careless and imprudent. You offered the woman a hand, only for her to swat it away rudely.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Don’t you know how to move across a stage you amateur?”

Taken aback by the rather explosive words, he was suddenly filled with rage and anger. And the more he watched the scene bellow unravel, the more furious he would become.

He witnessed you trying to help her, trying to defend yourself from her cruel and harsh words. How dare this woman do this to you? You who were a marvelous dancer, you who worked hard to get to where you were now. Hellfire couldn’t compare to the wrath that was coursing through his veins.

“Enough!” The choreographer, Madame Trish as he recalled, stepped on stage. She calmly listened to you both, and rightfully acknowledged that what happened was only an accident and that it definitely wasn’t your fault.

Carlotta was left fuming, even though she requested for you to be moved to the back of the stage, she was denied much to his amusement. He lamented that such an awful woman had to be hired as the lead singer, especially since the former one was wonderfully skilled and kindhearted.

Letting out a sigh, the Phantom continued supervising the rehearsal in secret, wondering if this Carlotta woman would pose a threat to the success of the opera house due to her harsh personality.

One thing was certain though. If she dared to hurt you in any way, he would have to teach her a lesson.

This opera house was his sanctuary, you were his angel of music. And let God and Lord Sparda know, he was willing to defend both from any harm at all cost.

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

“I… I wish to show you something (Y/N)…”

“Huh? What do you want to show me V?”

The boy retreated back briefly through the trapdoor next to him before reappearing with a few objects in his arms. One was a leather-bound book and the other was a long silver cane.

He stood before you awkwardly for a moment, a blush adorning his soft cheeks, before sitting on a wooden crate nearby and patting the spot next to him, silently inviting to take a seat.

Once you settled by his side, he handed you his book. “It’s a book of poetry, an anthology of William Blake’s works. My… my mother gifted it to me. She used it to teach me how to read.”

Your tiny fingers gently traced the details on the cover. Golden lines and ornaments decorated the leather in gorgeous patterns, forming a “V” at its center. Opening it, pages covered in exquisitely handwritten letters and breathtaking illustrations were revealed to your eyes. You could see why V loved this book so much, both the poems and the drawings were absolutely delightful, not to mention that you now understood why V would talk in such a polite and proper way.

“V… this is so beautiful!” you smiled at him and he returned the gesture with a timid one too. Carefully placing the book next to you, you turned to eye the cane still in V’s arms. “May I see that one too?”

The smile vanished from his face. He hesitated a bit, but eventually handed it to you. It was splendidly crafted, its form elegant and the handle had many pretty and mesmerizing details. However, unlike the time he lended you his beloved book, he remained silent.

“Would you tell me more about this cane?” V’s eyes widened, his adorable smile long gone now and his eyes now expressing worry. “I… I don’t know why I have it…” he quietly replied. “The only thing I know is that it’s important for me… but I’m not sure why…”

He looked away from you, and for a moment you thought you saw a small tear forming at the corner of his eye. Quickly placing the cane on the box, you pulled V into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry V… I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry for making you feel sad.”

At first he tensed when he felt your arms wrap around his form, but soon melted into your warm embrace and returned the hug. When you finally pulled away, you returned him his book. “Let’s change the subject. How about you read to me?”

Taking the book, his eyes immediately lit up. “Um… I still have some trouble pronouncing certain words, will it be a problem?”

“Not at all! And don’t worry, if you have trouble with a word I can help with it if you like.”

Once again, his lovely blush decorated his cheekbones. You read together, taking turns with each poem. When you both reached one titled ‘The Divine Image’, V asked you for a little help since it contained two words that still gave him a little trouble.

You patiently recited the poem first and then let him repeat it again until he could get it right.

“And all must love the human form, In h-het… heathen, Turk, or Jew…”

Although he was very eloquent when speaking, V still struggled on how to correctly pronounce a couple written words. Still you would always encourage him to keep trying, that one day, he will have no problem reading at all.

“You’re doing great V. Almost there, you can do it.”

“Where Mercy, Love, & Pity d-d-dwell, There God is d-dwelling too.” He gave one last sigh after finishing the poem.

“See? I knew you could do it!”

And for the first time since you met him, V let himself laugh. It was such a lovely and heartwarming sound, one full of joy and innocence that you could never get tired of hearing.

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

In a dark, candlelit room, the Phantom sat in front of his desk. He was working on a particular opera of his own creation, a project he started many years ago and yet it seemed to be nowhere near completion. Along the years the Phantom wrote many musical pieces, songs and poems, but this particular one was the most important of them all.

This one opera would be his Magnum Opus, his greatest masterpiece.

And once he finished it, he would finally consider his life accomplished and let the darkness take him away.

As his eyes skimmed through the page, he suddenly paused. His gaze turned to a leather-bound book on the desk next to his many drafts and notes. Picking up the book, he let himself rest for a while, opening it and reading its contents once again. The poetry and the illustrations in the book brought some memories back, ones he will always treasure with great joy and nostalgia.

His thoughts wandered back to you, his angel of music. “My angel… La mia angela… I promise to hold you and protect you always…

Just like you held me and protected me many years ago…”

#devil may cry #phantom of the opera au #dmc v #v x reader #v x you #self-insert #fanfiction #fanfic #warning: sensitive content

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xaos-rps · 10 months ago

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GNXR ZL YBIR

GNXR ZL YNAQ

GNXR ZR JURER V PNAABG FGNAQ

V QBA'G PNER

V'Z FGVYY SERR

LBH PNA'G GNXR GUR FXL SEBZ ZR

GNXR ZR BHG

GB GUR OYNPX

GRYY 'RZ V NVA'G PBZVAT ONPX

OHEA GUR YNAQ NAQ OBVY GUR FRN

LBH PNA'G GNXR GUR FXL SEBZ ZR

URER'F AB CYNPR V PNA'G OR

FVAPR V SBHAQ FRERAVGL

LBH PNA'G GNXR GUR FXL SEBZ ZR.

#pay no attention to the common themes behind the curtain

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cristalconnors · 6 years ago

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Cristal Connors Top 30 Films of 2018: #20-11

20. A Ciambra, dir. Jonas Carpignano

Contorts the coming-of-age film to craft an immersive study of race and class in Italy, utilizing a stellar cast of non-actors to suggest a palpable authenticity with which it uses to explore elaborate familial and cultural dynamics in the Italian neo-realist tradition.

19. Where is Kyra? dir. Andrew Dosunmu

Strikingly opaque and wholly devastating, seeing Dosunmu, Young and Pfeiffer working in tandem to create a hypnotic vision of capitalist despair that thrillingly remembers that film is first and foremost a visual medium.

18. Mandy, dir. Panos Cosmatos

A pitch black, heavy metal horror vision, remarkable just as much for its lived-in subtleties as its grandiose pageantry, never losing sight that the victim is a human soul, complex and deeply loved, and that their loss is truly devastating. Captivating and, at times, even fun.

17. Vox Lux, dir. Brady Corbet

A messy, gorgeously grotesque vision of the American way that boldly embraces its garishness. Deathly serious, but never afraid of having fun. Singular and striking.

16. A Simple Favor, dir. Paul Feig

A campy treat that’s outrageously fun in every regard, relishing in its trashy grocery store literature roots, but tinging the proceedings with an impressive sophistication, announcing Feig as a real directorial voice, and not some Hollywood hired hand.

15. The Kindergarten Teacher, dir. Sara Colangelo

A slowly unfurling tragedy, charting the intersection of ambition, unfulfillment, and opportunity, embracing prickly themes and ideas, composing a deeply intelligent, uniquely devastating celebration of poetry and young talent that isn’t afraid to get its hands dirty.

14. Putin’s Witnesses, dir. Vitaly Mansky

A dictator is born. Mansky’s film is shockingly warm and vibrant, though still finds ample time for solemn reflection and biting commentary, offering an eerie peek behind the curtain at a major turning point in Russian history.

13. Museo, dir. Alonso Ruizpalacios

A richly textured, vibrant heist flick that’s more concerned with who than why or even how, tackling themes of cultural heritage, colonialism, and the nature of storytelling itself with an impressive gusto and sophisticated visual language.

12. Shoplifters, dir. Hirokazu Kore-eda

A carefully constructed, tender exploration of the ties that bind and constrict, paying close attention to the various systems in late capitalism that take away our capacity for autonomy and joy and the support systems we build for ourselves. Intimate, but expansive.

11. The Favourite, dir. Yorgos Lanthimos

Another singularly striking vision that suggests the phrase “Lanthimosian” will be a common phrase in cinema studies courses for years to come, this time paying close attention to gendered power dynamics and the limitations of power for women that remain unsettlingly timeless. Charmingly crude and admirably complex.

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spicelupin-blog · 7 years ago

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S.Black: Warm While It’s Cold Outside

Sirius Black. Marauder’s Era. Christmas Themed.

Request: Hiii could I request a Sirius x reader where they spend the winter break at school and have cute dates and chill wrapped in like 3 blankets and things like that? Thank you💗

Summary: In which, you and your boyfriend, Sirius Black are staying at school for Christmas break and you have a nice cuddle and hot chocolate date.

Warnings: None.

Genre: Purely fluff

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Words: 2172

The Gryffindor common room is infamous for its natural comfort and radiating warmth into all the brave students that dwelled there. If you were one of the lucky lions that spent an abundance of time here doing homework, reading by the fireplace, or talking to your housemates, you felt at home whenever you entered it.

Even with all that coziness flooding the place, Sirius somehow managed to rip an anxiety shaped hole into it. When I walked in the evening after my last midterm, my eyes instantly connected to my boyfriend’s form on the couch. He was laying back, arms tucked under his head and ankles crossed on the armrest. All this was a very Sirius way to be sitting, not out of the ordinary at all to the average Gryffindor; nonetheless, I was no average Gryffindor. I had tame the rebellious Black and I knew all his twitches no matter how small.

For starters, he was bouncing his legs a bit. Not in a rhythm though, like he would do to muggle rock songs, but just aimlessly. He was also staring up at the ceiling, his eyebrows scrunched and his eyes full of heavy thinking. The most prominent thing was how silent he was. He would usually be talking to someone, anyone. Sirius was a social guy, he didn’t pass up an opportunity to talk to other people. Yet, here he was in a slightly crowded common room, not even paying attention to anyone around him.

This does not sit well with me and I headed straight for him. I startled Sirius out of his thoughts by grabbing his legs, moving under them onto the couch before returning them to their original position.

“Hello to you too,” Sirius mumbled, adjusting his legs where they now laid over my lap.

“I would have just said hello, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t have done anything,” I stated, making Sirius raise an eyebrow. “You were so deep in thought and all…” I trailed off, signaling that I wanted him to elaborate.

Sirius sighed, running a hand down his face. “I was thinking about the break.”

I frowned, confused. “You’re going to Godric’s Hollow, right? Spending Christmas there like always.” I knew Sirius’s situation with his family and how the Potters were like his adoptive family. Thinking about his family made my eyes widen, a new question coming to mind. “You’re not staying with your family, are you?”

Sirius gave a laugh at that, shaking his head. “I don’t think they’d allow me to ruin their celebration. You know how Christmas is the time for rich people to show off. With the balls and gifts. Imagine if I showed up in the midst of it. Walburga would Avada Kedavra herself.”

I playful hit his calf as I laughed. “Ha ha,” I mockingly laughed. “But really, what about the break?”

Sirius gave another great sigh, “I’m staying here.”

“Here?” I frowned, “Why?”

“The Potters are going away for the break and I didn’t want to impose. They invited me, but it feels strange to come with them on a family holiday. I already live with them outside of school, I don’t want to ask for more. They should be able to go away without seeing my face.” Sirius explained, playing with a button on his school shirt. “James is their son. Not me. I don’t want them to feel forced to invite me into their family bonding time.”

“They’re not being forced to do anything, Sirius.” I disagreed. “They invited you because they want you there.”

Sirius shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I feel like I’m a bother to them sometimes. I don’t want to ruin their Christmas by being moody.” He looked up at me with sad eyes but tried to mask them by smiling. He grabbed one of my hands, pressing a kiss to it. He changed the subject by asking, “So what are you doing for the break, dove.”

I squeezed his hand while replying, “I’m not sure yet. Father is in Switzerland with the step-brats,” A lovely term I’ve labeled the two obnoxious children that have forced their way into my life by my step-mother. “And mother is in Paris. I don’t know what’s worse, being asked a million rude questions by mum or enduring the hell of being with you-know-who.”

“Are you talking about the Dark wizard or your stepmother?” Sirius smirked.

“I wish I was talking about the Dark wizard.” I joked, laughing softly.

When we stopped laughing, Sirius spoke softly, “What about staying here?”

I raised an eyebrow. Before this conversation I had no reason to stay at school for break, but now that I knew Sirius was staying it gave me many reasons to.

“I don’t know, Sirius. Do you want me to stay?” I teased, knowing the answer by how Sirius waited for my answering with hopeful eyes.

Sirius scoffed. “I thought you were an independent women, Y/N? Doesn’t my opinion on what I want you to do mean nothing?”

I shrugged, trying to move Sirius’s legs off me to leave. “I guess you’re right. I better go pack for Paris then.” I jokingly tried to make my leave, but Sirius pushed his legs back down to trap me.

“Wait!” He exclaimed, looking a bit panicked at my reply. He took a breath and I knew it was taking a lot from the confident Sirius Black to plead for me to stay at school with him. “Will you stay at school with me? I’ll make it worth it, promise.” He peered out from between the dark locks that had fallen into his eyes.

I grinned, giving in immediately. “How can I say no?”

The day everyone headed off to board the Hogwarts Express, I hugged Lily and Marlene goodbye before walking up the stairs of the boy’s dormitory. I waved goodbye to three of the Marauders a few minutes ago, no Sirius in sight. Remus seemed to have read my questioning look, eyes flicking up to the dorms for an answer.

I knocked once before the door flew open to reveal a barely clothed, sleepy Sirius.

He was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, grumbling something along the line of, “Merlin, Wormtail did you forget you jumper or something?”

“Actually, I think it’s you who have forgotten your jumper.” I pointed out, observing his shirtless chest.

Sirius immediately looked up at me, realizing I wasn’t his short friend. “Dove, what are you doing here so early? Did you miss me that much?”

I rolled my eyes, a giggle escaping my lips. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I saw the others leave and you weren’t with them and all. But now I see your lack of clothes might be the reason.”

Sirius grinned, letting me into the empty room. All the beds were made neatly except the one with Gryffindor banners everywhere and a handful of muggle motorcycles and half-naked girls’ posters.

“Ew, I thought I told you to take these down.” I wrinkled my nose as I saw the bikini-clad girls.

“Jealous?” Sirius asked as he flopped onto his bed.

“No, they’re degrading.” I huffed. “I understand you’re all ‘rebel without a cause’, but still.” I stood by the side of his bed, arms crossed with annoyance.

Sirius grabbed me by the waist, hauling me on top of him. I let out a squeal of surprise and Sirius gave a hearty laugh at my girlish noise. “You’ll have to give me a few pictures of you to replace them. Trust me, I’d much prefer you on my wall then them.”

I pushed off his chest to a sit position next to him. “In your dreams, Black.”

“You have no idea.” Sirius grinned, staring at me in a way that made a blush dust my cheeks.

“Gross.” I rolled my eyes sheepishly, trying to get off the bed.

Sirius grabbed my wrist, pulling me back. “No, stay with me, please.” He gave me big puppy eyes that he knew made me go all kinds of soft.

“Fine.” I agreed, making Sirius grinned and pull me back down so I was laying on his chest.

He pulled his comforter back over us, cutting us off from the cold air in the dorm. Very soon, I was falling into a deep sleep, enveloped in warmth radiating from Sirius’s skin.

When I woke up, the room was dark. The curtains that had been drawn to cover any morning light from early, was still blocking out any and all light. I felt completely limp, not wanting move from the comfortable spot on Sirius' chest.

Under me, his chest was rising and falling peacefully. I lazily looked up at him, resting my chin flat on my chest. His mouth hung open a bit, light snores being heard. His eyelids were fluttering like he was dreaming. His hair was mussed from sleep, spread out around his head like a dark halo. I just laid there, watching him sleep as I felt myself slowly regain strength to move.

As my mind turned back on, I started wondering what time it was. We had fallen asleep not long after the Hogwarts Express had left at 9 o’clock. It had to be only about noon, yet the sky seemed dark behind the curtains.

I lifted my body from Sirius’s, feeling how hot I was from sleeping on the human furnace that is Sirius. One thing I had come to love about Sirius is how he always was warm and smelt amazing, like fresh pine. With the season, the fact that Sirius was eternally warm and smelt like a grand Christmas tree really made cuddling the most enjoyable activity.

I padded across the cold floor to the nearest window, wanting nothing more than to rejoin Sirius in bed. I pulled back a side of the curtain a tab, peeking outside. The Hogwarts grounds were being pelted by snowflakes that were rapidly falling. The grounds were already covered with a thick layer of snow, now slowly rising. I pressed a hand to the glass and a shiver ran up my spine at how cold it was.

“Are you really choosing watching snowfall over napping with me?” Sirius asked in a raspy voice. I turned around to faintly see a groggy Sirius in the dim light, splayed out on the bed.

“It’s pretty,” I noted with a shrug.

“Frankly, I’m prettier.” Sirius declared, standing from the bed to join me by the window. He must have been able to feel the cold weather radiating through the window because he crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Merlin, it is freezing.”

I nodded. “I love this kind of weather. When I’m inside, that is.”

“Why is that, dove?” Sirius inquired, wrapping his arms around my middle and pulling me close.

“Well, you can watch the world get covered in frost, but you’re inside in the warmth. You can drink hot chocolate and cuddle. Then there is Christmas. Christmas has a whole other list of why it’s amazing.”

Sirius snuggled his head into the crook of my neck. “Why don’t we do some of those things on your list? You go down into the common room, pick out your favorite cuddling seat and I’ll go to the kitchen and snag us some hot chocolate. You know how into it the house elves get during Christmas.”

“Ooh,” I sounded at the idea. “And get some of those cute cookies too. The snowman ones are my favorite. I love the sweets they use to decorate.”

Sirius smiled against my neck and kissed my jaw lovingly. “I’ll grab the lot of them.”

Sirius and I walked downstairs, hand in hand. I plopped down on the couch that was the comfiest. Sirius planted a long kiss on my lips before sauntering off to the kitchens.

When he returned, a basket of cookies hanging on his arm and two festively decorated mugs of hot chocolate in either hand.

“I have the goods!” Sirius exclaimed.

“You’re lucky no prefects are here otherwise you’d be in deep shit for being so loud.” I teased, taking the mug with a reindeer on it.

“Nothing like getting an earful from Evans to ring my Christmas bell.” Sirius laughed, sitting next to me. He put the basket down on the floor by the couch. “Here we have our reindeers, our bells, our scarves, candy canes, mistletoes for the lovers,” He winked at me, “Christmas trees, snowflakes, and of course, at the requests of the love of my life, Ms. Y/N, snowmen.”

“You’re the best!” I kissed his cheek, grinning.

Sirius gave me a smug grin, shrugging. “You’re a lucky girl, my dove.”

I smiled back, picking up the decorative candy cane hanging on the side of the mug. “The luckiest.” I agreed, biting a piece of the peppermint treat.

Masterlist

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operaforthelayman · 7 years ago

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Eugene Onegin

U-jean O-nay-gen Difficulty: ★☆☆☆☆ First performed: March 19 1879 at Maly Theater in Moscow Russia Who did it: Tchaikovsky

Here’s a bit of background:

It was first performed by students in 1879. The professional opening was January 29 1881 at the Bolshoi theater

It’s based on a verse novel (long poem) by Alexander Pushkin

It’s kind of a splice of multi-scenes in one person’s life rather than a straight continuous story

Themes: Love, Coming of age, Russia

Fun Tidbits:

Mahler once conducted this opera!

Eugene Onegin has been performed in Czech, Italian and English

Tchaikovsky kept most of story the same but shifted the main focus to emotions and more specifically Tatiana.

Our Major players ♪ Tatiana: Also called Tanya. Youthful, kinda angsty, but super smart brunette. ♪ Olga: Tanya’s little sister. Bubbly giddy, care free blonde. ♪ Lensky: Olga’s boyfriend, love-dovey poet. ♪ Onegin: Titular character, debatable main character. SUPER angsty and blasé. Too cool for school bro

Act One

Scene 1

We open in the garden of Tatiana’s house. Larina, Tatiana & Olga’s mum sits with their childhood nurse, Filippyevna. Inside the house, the two sisters are heard together singing a love song.

Larina listens in and begins to reminisce about a sweetheart she had before marrying her now deceased husband.

She is interrupted by a group of peasants singing on their way home. They stop to entertain the Larina family with a lil’ SHOWTIME! It’s a fun party tune about two lovers.

When they are finished, Tatiana sighs to herself causing her sister to shit on her dreamy-emo-melancholic nature.

Larina send the peasants away with some wine and Olga points outs how pale Tanya is looking these days.

Tanya eases their fear telling them, “I’m just reading a mad interesting book. Don’t worry.”

Larina scolds her slightly for being so dreamy all the time and reminds her that life is not like the fiction novels she reads. Olga shuts them both up pointing out the window that her BAE, Lensky has finally arrived but he’s not alone… The two men enter the house and Lensky introduces his mysterious tag along as his homeboy, Eugene Onegin.

Tanya is instantly smitten with his tall, dark, and moody atmosphere.

The boys have an aside in which Eugene ask which one Tanya is and then ridicules Lensky for picking Olga instead of Tanya. He actually tells Lensky that Olga’s face resembles a stupid moon. Lensky for some reason isn’t offended. But whatever.

Tanya’s on the other side of the garden with Olga blushing and whispering about how handsome and attractive Eugene is.There’s a WONDERFUL quartet and when it breaks, Lensky and Olga run off to have some private time, leaving Tanya and Onegin together.

Their fucking banter is painful awkward because Tanya becomes a bumbling smitten school girl and Eugene Onegin is playing it TOO cool.

In contrast Lensky share this super cute love letter with Olga.

None the less, Tanya is still smitten with him and scene one ends with Filippyevna noticing the sudden change in her.

Scene 2

Tanya sits in her room with Filippyevna who tells her it’s time for bed. Tanya is restless and ask Filippyevna to tell her stories about her younger days of being in love. She starts to tell and realizes Tanya isn’t even paying attention! She begins to worry about her because Tanya’s all red and flushed. Filippyevna begins to think she’s sick but Tanya spits out SHE’S IN LOVE.

She asks for a paper and pen and is left alone with her thoughts.

Now is the very famous letter aria that seems to go on forever.

Tanya stays up all nights writing a thousand drafts of a love letters to Onegin.

(We’ve all been there girl.)

She finishes it in the early morning and nervously gives it to Filippyevna to giver to her grandson to deliver!

Scene 3

It’s the next morning in the garden, there’s a bit of a ditty from servant girls pickin’ fruit.

Tanya sits exhausted and nervous on a bench. ONEGIN IS IN THE BUIDLING!!!

She shits herself nervously regretting her lack of self control and he sneaks up behind her mad cool like. He’s like “Hey.. You wrote me this letter. Don’t deny it.”

And she’s like “UHHHH??” hahahaha.

Onegin continues telling her that her letter has stirred emotions he hasn’t felt in hella long… BUT HE CONTINUES (THEY ALWAYS CONTINUE) with a fabulous aria that breaks my heart every time, he tells her that he was not meant for married life, in fact he would be hella bored by it. He tells her he loves her…..like a brother, leaving her with a kiss and the advice of not being too open with her emotions because others may not be as kind as he.

Tanya watches him leave, flushed red and mortified.

Act 2

Scene 1

It’s been a few months and we’re at Tanya’s name day. For the Americans in the crowd, name day is the feast day of a saint after whom a person is named. It’s common in Europe and some people have told me it’s even more important than birthdays. The towns people sing her praises ; Onegin invites her to dance but grows annoyed after hearing the whispers of gossip from the townspeople. He gets annoyed at Lensky for dragging him to the party and decides to fuck with him by asking Olga to dance.

Lensky gets pissy but Olga laughs considering Onegin’s invitation has harmless flirting. The two go off to dance, while Lensky literally has a childlike meltdown in the middle of the party. (Like wtf dude, I know that your girlfriend but it literally is just one dance…) At the end of the ONE dance, Olga returns and Lensky freaks the fuck out on her, claiming she embarrassed him. He grows jealous of Onegin and claims that she keeps ignoring his invitation to dance but she has refused. (Again…it was one dance…) Olga reassures him that Onegin was just playing and there is no reason to be jealous. Lensky begins to cool down, but Onegin decides to be a dick again and joins the couple.

Lensky ask Olga to dance with him again, but Onegin cuts in and insist she must dance with him. She decides to dance with him again, punishing Lensky for his crazy jealous behaviour.

Just then Monsieur Triquet joins the party, he’s Tanya’s French tutor from back in the day and this part of the opera is virtually useless plot wise. But interesting operatically, Triquet sings in FRENCH! While the rest of the opera is in Russian! I’ve always found that fun. Sometimes this aria is sung by Lensky but that’s improper staging. The little song Triquet sings is about how wonderful Tatyana is and she kinds of sits embarrassedly. (Think, you at your birthday party while they sing happy birthday!)

At the end of Triquet’s song, there is more dancing and FINALLY Onegin returns Olga to her seat, where Lensky has been sulking. Onegin trolls him with a, “Ohhh why the long face??” And Lensky blows up, claiming that he’s a hoe for wanting both sisters. By this point he’s shouting and everybody at the party stops dancing to watch.

Onegin calls him crazy which makes Lensky even more furious and he dramatically declares that he and Onegin are no longer friends. The language is so childish and hilarious, even Onegin doesn’t consider him serious. He urges Lensky to calm down, which duh makes Lensky even more angry. He challenges Onegin to a duel the very next day! He storms out, ending the party.

Scene 2

Lensky sits in the woods the next morning, waiting for Onegin. Zaretsky, Lensky’s neighbor, a duel enthusiast and witness for the duel is like “wtf is this dude Onegin.”

Lensky reassures him he will be here, and lets his mind wander to the better days of his youth. (Btw, they’re like fucking eighteen or so at this point.)

Finally Onegin shows up. They sing a lil’ duet about regretting that it’s come to this. It’s kind of sad because this whole thing started so stupidly. But long story short, Onegin pops a cap in Lensky’s ass. And the act ends with a Onegin weeping over his bro’s dead bod.

Act 3

Scene 1

The curtains rise and we’re in the middle of a huge fucking party. It’s been a couple years since that morning in the woods.

The party is in full swing, but Onegin stands off to the side, mad bored. He sings an aria basically saying, “I’m a loser. I’m 25. I have no wife, no career!” He’s spent the past years traveling and looking for life fulfillment but has failed He’s been wandering thru life aimless and depressed since killing Lensky.

The party attendees do a lil’ dance and as it ends, Tanya enters with her new husband, Prince Gremin. The guest excitedly greet the pair, and Onegin’s like, “Hold UP. IS THAT TANYA????”

Across the room, Tanya’s like, “ONEGIN???”

Onegin ends up talking to Gremin and ask the identity of the mysterious women he is with, Gremlin’s like, “Oh? Tanya? My wifey. We’ve been married for two years. Do you know her??

In a cold sweat, Onegin says they used to be neighbours back in the day.

Gremlin then sings this huge long aria about how much he loves Tanya and it’s mad awkward because Onegin just kind of stands there. By the end, Gremlin brings Tanya over and introduces the two.

The exchange between the old pair so fucking cold, you would think Tanya’s a damn Vulcan.

They exchange small talk for a few seconds then Tanya tells Gremin she’s tired and they bounce.

Onegin watches them leave and reminisces about the past and then suddenly realizes, “OH FUCK. I’M IN LOVE WITH HER.”

Be sure to note the letter scene motif returns in this scene!!!!

Scene 2

Tanya sits at home, holding….A LETTER. Not hers from all those years ago, BUT A NEW ONE FROM ONEGIN! He has written her asking to meet. She’s trouble because despite his boorish behaviour in the past, he still makes her feel some type of way.

Onegin arrives, passionately, desperately and intensely. They stand staring at each other and the sexual tension is so strong you could feel it in family circle standing room.

Finally, Onegin falls to the floor in front of Tanya’s feet.

And she’s like, “ enough stop that. Do you remember that time you lecture me in the fucking garden?”

Onegin apologizes and ask her to spare him, BUT SHE CONTINUES,

“Yeah I was younger then and probably a better person. I loved you and what did I get? NADA. You were A DICK, but y’know what I’m a bigger person. I won’t blame you. But what’s your problem, why coming for me now? BECAUSE I’M RICH AND FAMOUS? BECAUSE I’M TAKEN???”

Onegin explodes back, telling her that he’s sorry and does love her and that he was a fool. Tanya begins to weep and the pair embrace each other. They both speak of the happy moments they shared in the distant past.

Onegin ask Tanya to run away with him. It’s sweet and intense. But Tanya says no. He begs and begs, and begs!!! Tanya says no, but she does admit she still loves him.

Onegin is thrilled and again encourages her to leave her husband. Tanya stands firm and says no.

This happens like 3 more times, and then Tanya’s like OK ENOUGH.

She walks out, her last words: “FAREWELL FOREVER.”

Onegin falls to the floor and succumbs to his horrible empty fate.

#tell it like it is #eugene onegin #opera tag #opera #tchaikovsky #pushki

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yatorihell · 7 years ago

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In The Darkness Chapter 23 - The Hogwarts Express

Words: 3,891

Summary: Third arc of the Harry Potter AU! Another summer has passed, and a new threat presents itself.

Previous chapter | First chapter

Thank you Gio @themusicalbookworm for beta-ing me <3

Happy birthday Kayla (@pahndah)

Read on AO3

Yato groaned. The rattle of a passing train threatened yet again to bring down the roof above his head, waking him from an otherwise peaceful sleep. The world peeked back at him through the slit in his fringe where he squinted at the curtain-less window, much too bright and too grey for him to want to wake up.

The Leaky Cauldron wasn’t the finest place to live, but it was the cheapest.

He had a modest room – the best he could get at such a low price – which became more of an owl cage to Yato as he whittled the summer away.

Yato kicked his legs out in the tangle of bedsheets he had created, frowning at where the canopy of his bed should be, instead seeing the same bland ceiling that greeted him every day. He wasn’t sure just what had happened to the fabric that was meant to give him some kind of privacy, but something told him it had been stolen a long time ago, possibly to make clothes for whichever poor hermit had stayed in his room before.

Aside from a lack of veil, the bed was similar to the one he had grown accustomed to at Hogwarts: four-poster but instead it was an ebony oak, meticulously carved with patterns too hard to distinguish. Its age showed when Yato pushed himself up, the alarming creak of wooden slats and the dangerous wobble of rickety wood a sign of the countless visitors who had stayed in the very same bed over the last millennia.

A cloying, lingering smell of age and dirt had saturated into his clothes. Sometimes he was sure it had permeated itself into his skin when he scrubbed his dirty fingernails under the sputtering taps in the shared washroom that stopped giving hot water long ago.

The enclosed charcoal fireplace on the far side of the room had blackened the floor, scuff marks of boots visible from where the cleaning lady had attempted to sweep some muck away. Plumes of sooty smoke had stained the once white walls, laying a fine layer of dirt to every surface and giving the room a shabby chic-less aura.

Yato shuffled to the window and swiped the thin lattice glass pane lazily, grime dirtying his hand which he wiped on his bed trousers without a second thought. It made no difference – the years of dirt from the old-fashioned wizard side of London had marred the outside of the glass, all but obscuring a less than appealing view of tin-patched roofs and dingy alleys where the most shadowy character would not dare go.

Yato let out another longer groan, stretching an arm over his head before dropping it to ruffle his hair into some sort of acceptable mop. He dressed lightly, shoes creaking on the floor with the door slamming shut behind him as he jogged down the wonky staircase and slipped through the small entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.

Wandering was his only hobby that he could say he was happy to do if it meant he could escape the small room he had, and it wasn’t a completely terrible thing if he was confined to Diagon Alley.

Yato ambled, not paying attention to what the common street merchants were trying to sell him. The same rustic cauldrons lined the outside of multiple shops, spilling in heaps on bronze and silver alongside lopsided scales that had been handed down through generations of witches and wizards.

He’d seen new animals being delivered to the Magical Menagerie, cats and toads alike ready to be bought by eager first years when they descended for school supplies. He had also loitered for far too long outside of the Quality Quidditch Supplies when Spudmore’s brand new broomstick – the Firebolt – graced its display window.

Yato wondered if he would bump into Yukine, or Hiyori, but every day proved fruitless and a gnawing feeling started in his stomach when August came with no sign of either of them. A brief thought of contacting them crossed his mind before he realised that one, he had no addresses for them and two, he had no clue how to send a muggle letter. They were probably using their little pocket things to send notes all summer.

Yato’s pace slowed as he reached a shadowy pathway, one that wouldn’t be noticed by the innocent shopper unless they knew where to look. The murkiness of the street against the liveliness of Diagon Alley was unreal, like stepping across the fine line from a dream to a nightmare.

The shadowy depths of Knockturn Alley – a most dubious place you wouldn’t want to be seen in even if you had nothing to hide – concealed the most questionable artefacts, and even more questionable people. Phantom-like witches and wizards hugged the shadows, their dark robes questionable as to who their allegiance lay with, or the manner of magic they practiced.

Yato’s assessment of the alley ceased abruptly.

He squinted.

There, just around the corner, he could see something out of the ordinary – a rarity in such places as this. Eyes, yellow and venomous, stared back at him. Though they were much lower than a person’s height, he could tell that the thing watching him was no human, neither elf nor goblin.

Yato scrunched his eyes more. He could feel his head aching from the contrast of lightning as he took a half-step into the overcast before he caught himself and stopped.

The look he had seen was primal, animalistic, but when he snapped back to his senses, they had already vanished.

Hiyori and Yukine stared at Yato in amazement.

It was September 1st. It was 10:45AM. Yato grinned at them, steadying a cage on top of his trolley.

There was a pigeon in the cage.

“What. The hell. Is that?” Yukine said slowly. The beady red eye of the pigeon glared back at him, head twitching in curiosity as the new sounds of Kings Cross Station filled its ears.

“I didn't have one of your cool little thingies!” Yato replied, voice a high whine the way a child would complain if they didn’t receive what they wanted for Christmas.

Hiyori could only guess he meant a mobile phone as he had seen her give Yukine her old one, but she didn't think Yato would have been as jealous as to buy a carrier pigeon.

“If you wanted a ‘cool phone’ you could’ve said,” Hiyori sighed in exasperation.

“Cool phone?” Yato echoed. “Well, I’ve got a ‘coo’ phone!”

He looked so proud at his joke that Hiyori didn't have the heart to shoot him down. Yukine, on the other hand, was ready and waiting.

“It’s vermin. Let it go.”

“But I wanted to talk to you guys!”

Yukine cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t get anything.”

Yato suddenly lost his words. One small detail – one that would be huge to them – had escaped his mind and was the reason why he hadn’t sent any sort of letter.

“Yeah….” Yato drew out the word, hoping that what he was about to say wouldn’t be as stupid as he thought it was. “I need your addresses.”

Yukine rolled his eyes and turned on the spot, muttering about how it was a miracle that Yato had been accepted into Hogwarts at all. Hiyori gave Yato a faint bemused smile before following after Yukine, who had already began boarding the Hogwarts Express – though he was still was short enough to lose sight of, he was taller than the first and second years that preceded them.

Yato hurriedly pushed his trolley towards the luggage cart where the stewards were loading bundles of cases and stashing owl cages into a private, quiet carriage. He ignored the strange looks he got from a young girl and her mother upon spotting his odd selection of bird, ducking out of the way and bounding onto the train behind Hiyori.

As usual the train was in a riot of students and all sorts of magic that could easily blind them if they didn’t keep their wits about them. Silver firecrackers and ebony fizz bombs exploded with noisy pops that left their ears ringing by the time they had stumbled through the smoke, searching for vacant cabins only to find all were occupied by at least one person.

Not fancying another death-defying trip through the train, Hiyori pointed at the last door of the carriage where they would be best off staying for the remainder of the journey.

The cabin had a musky smell, probably from its sole occupant who didn’t rise nor turn in their direction when Yukine slid the door open. The trio exchanged glances before shrugging, stepping into the cabin and gently shutting the door as to not wake the stranger.

Yato took a seat on the far side of the compartment next to the door. Yukine sat by the window opposite the stranger, leaving Hiyori to sit by his side.

“Definitely not a student,” Yato remarked, eyeing the stranger suspiciously.

His face was concealed by the tented peak of a coat – probably older than all of them combined – which had been haphazardly draped over his frame which rose and fell steadily with deep breaths. Sleeping.

A battered case similar to his own had been stashed in the rack above their heads, a name tag yellowed with age dangled between the railings. Before any of them could decipher the name the jolted and swung as the Hogwarts Express juddered to life.

Yato relaxed in his seat after a few moments, observing the stranger who didn’t stir as they were slowly taken out of London before the ancient train gather speed, hurtling them towards another year at Hogwarts.

Hiyori initiated the conversation, asking Yato what he had done over the summer to which he gave some vague reply of ‘this and that’ before turning the question back on her and Yukine.

Chattering about things like ‘theme parks’ and ‘cinemas’ that he didn’t understand, Yato nodded like he had the faintest idea what Hiyori was talking about. Yukine seemed to already know all of this – of course, he did have a phone to talk to Hiyori about this – as he didn’t really take part in the conversation. His summer probably involved sleeping. A lot of sleeping.

“I didn’t see you around this year,” Hiyori recalled the time she had bumped into Yato the previous summer. “I thought I would’ve bumped into you the amount of times I went to get school stuff.”

Yato twanged in disappointment. Why didn’t he see her if she was there so often? Still, she had no idea that his he knew full well he was in Diagon Alley the whole time.

“Well, you know, I was at home…�� Yato said. It wasn’t a lie exactly as the Leaky Cauldron was his home, but Hiyori nor Yukine had to know that.

“I went to Diagon Alley a few times.” Lie. “But I had to go to other places.” Lie. “Like Knockturn Alley.”

“What the hell were you doing there?!” Yukine exclaimed.

Shit.

Yato’s loss for words and Yukine’s aghast face told Hiyori that wherever that was, it was not a place for a teenager – or anybody – to be. Curiosity got the better of her when she saw Yato’s guilty face.

“What’s in Knockturn Alley? Hiyori asked.

Yato avoided her inquisitive eyes, but Yukine was the one who answered her with a hissed whisper in case anyone outside, or the stranger, was eavesdropping.

“Bad stuff, bad wizards, full of nutjobs.”

At this statement and their paired looks of perplexity, Yato’s gaze shifted to the window. He should’ve kept quiet.

Of course, Knockturn Alley had a bad reputation and it was incredibly suspicious for anyone to go there. Tongues would wag, and whispers would spread over involvement in dark magic and shifty connections to an even darker underground of demented wizards.

They’d think he was crazy if he told them the real reason he was there. Who goes looking for a pair of eyes that may or may not have been watching and following them? The amount of times Yato had glanced behind in the past few months when he felt a presence was enough to make him paranoid.

“There’s a lot of old stuff in there,” Yato said carelessly as if the topic had been blown out of proportion. “I just had a look.”

“I’d rather if you didn’t,” Yukine grumbled. “It was bad enough last year with everyone thinking you were a nutjob trying to kill muggleborns. This would be the icing on the cake if anyone found out.”

A wry smile played on Yato’s lips. “Aww, you do care.”

“Shut up.”

A lack of entertainment left the trio to chat and doze and daydream for the most part of the journey. They hesitated over whether or not to wake the stranger when the dear old trolley witch stopped by, deciding instead to raid the sweets (no chocolate frogs, out of consideration for Hiyori) and a few piping hot pumpkin pies that cooled almost immediately.

The weather had turned drastically after dusk had settled. Instead of blue skies over rolling hills and azure loughs were thunderous storm clouds that blackened the world around them.

The small lights of the cabins crawled through the gloom, the near-invisible snake of train carriages blindly taking its occupants to their destination and giving no hint of where they were or when they would arrive.

Rain lashed against the window in powerful waves, running in too many rivulets to count and battering the roof with deafening racket.

Yato leaned in the corner of the bench, arms folded. He listlessly staring out at the storm, wondering when they would arrive at Hogwarts. Yukine studied a book, scribbling notes with some sort of quill he had brought from home which did not need ink whilst Hiyori pointed out sentences and muttered quiet hints.

They were quickly cut off as the train lurched and the locomotive’s wheels screeched painfully on the tracks, throwing them all off balance and nearly tumbling to the floor alongside Yukine’s fallen book.

Yukine swore under his breath, rubbing his head where it had clashed against the window before reaching down to pick up his book. Right as his fingers closed on its spine, the lights flickered, blinked, and died.

“Bloody perfect,” Yukine muttered. He dropped the book on the short table in front of him. Lucky for some, the train’s sudden halt had not woken the stranger at all. “What happened?”

Hiyori shrugged, head turning to Yato who gave her an equally clueless look.

The train juddered again, cutting off Yato’s attempt to stand up and go outside, and making the windows rattle with a huge force. It was Yato’s turn to cuss before a hissed whisper made the cabin fall deathly silent.

“Look!”

Yukine’s reflection, bewildered in the window of the train, was vanishing. Not because the lights had returned, but because of a frost that glazed the pane with a soft crackling noise. Frozen fractals forming underneath Yukine’s hand which he had pressed up to meet the phenomena.

“Something’s out there,” he said in a hushed voice. His eyes trained on the darkness outside, straining to be able to see something beyond the sudden wintery occurrence.

The storm outside had stopped, almost suspended in time, giving an eerie silence to the entire train as students wondered alike if they had merely broken down, or if something larger was at work. They were in the eye of the hurricane, and the storm was about to hit.

Cold more intense than any winter he had known chilled the cabin immediately, leaking into the very cracks of his being where he thought it would be impossible to feel such a cutting frost. Their breaths clouded in puffs of white that formed and dissipated in the air with every short breath they took. Looking from one to another, Yato could see the matched quaking fear visible in Hiyori’s and Yukine’s wide eyes.

Nothing felt like this – nothing this unfeeling or sinister. Except for…

A movement outside the cabin caught his attention. Not at the window where Yukine peered out, but from the carriage hallway where, instinctively, they all turned to look.

A shadowed hand with bone-thin, elongated fingers stretched out against the frosted glass window, beckoning the door handle which opened with a frigid click.

It moved slowly, or maybe that was the feeling of suspended time that the trio could feel as their breath hitched. Their hearts pounded the blood in their ears so impossibly loud that they almost couldn’t hear the slow scrape of the cabin door sliding open. A tall figure blocked any escape, enshrouded in something that resembled cloth floating underwater; enchanting, free, but simultaneously terrifying, oppressive. Inhuman.

It inhaled a rattling breath as it straightened its skinny shoulders, the cusp of the thin black robes draped over its head revealing a wrinkled mouth similar to one of a rotting corpse. Its breaths deepened and as if smelling him, its head reared and its lips – if it had any – pulled back, leaving a black pit to greet Yato as he stared the harbinger death in the face.

A dementor.

Yato’s stomach knotted, the pit feeling in his stomach falling away and making him feel like he was going to hurl if terror would allow his body to move. The blood rushed from his ears to his head, but still he could hear nothing but the crazed electric pump of his heart slamming against his ribcage and the heavy breaths of the dementor which drew in more than air.

It’s happening again.

It was familiar. Not in the sense of nostalgic memories, but as the familiar feeling of the cusp of death – where the dementor was allowed to draw its victims life-force for just a tad longer than it was bearable before it was stopped, placated until it could serve its use again.

His body went limp when its inhales grew longer and deeper, his body twitching with every stolen breath. It was enough to make Yato’s chest explode with the desperation for air.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t –

The last thing he saw was a quick black shadow by his side, immediately replaced by a light so bright, so serene, that he thought this time the Dementor had fulfilled its task.

His eyes rolled white, and his mind was set adrift in a blanketed abyss.

Yato jerked back to life -- or was this the afterlife? If it weren’t for the familiar ceiling of the Hogwarts Express – which had been illuminated by the now-functional lights – and his swimming sight of the cabin accompanied by the rhythmic clacks of the steam engine, he would’ve thought he was there.

A cold sweat drenched his body that left him shivering as his eyes stared up at the ceiling for a moment. Blinking, he tuned back into the world.

Yato’s head throbbed as he pushed himself up, a hand steadying him when he winced and pressed his palm to his temple.

“Easy there.”

That wasn’t Hiyori. It wasn’t Yukine. It wasn’t even Kazuma. The voice, gruff and deep, but in what sounded like a gentler tone of voice, spoke again.

“Eat this.”

The hand left his shoulder. With some shuffling of the person standing and rummaging through for something the other side of the cabin. A hard object fell into Yato’s lap a moment later, catching him completely off-guard.

His head swam, but the fog was clearing enough for him to gain his bearings. The first thing he noticed was that he was on the floor – he must’ve slipped right out of his own seat when he passed out. Yukine and Hiyori were still perched on the cushioned bench looking shaken, but nowhere near as bad as Yato when he saw the scared, searching looks they gave him.

His eyes slid away from theirs, ashamed that they had seen him in such a state. His eyes flickered to the figure standing over them.

He didn’t need to stretch to reach the shelf that hung above the seats; it was more of a challenge for him not to bump his head on them.

Brown eyes under a furrowed brown glanced down at Yato when he felt his eyes on him, mouth twisted into a thin line as he shoved the case back in its holding. A scruff of dark stubble sparingly patched his chin, giving way to short sideburns that grew into longer, thicker locks that had been slicked back from his face.

“Eat.”

Yato dazedly looked back down when the man pointed at the thing he’d dropped in Yato’s lap. Wrapped in paper and silver foil, a darkly sweet-smelling aroma filled his nostrils – chocolate.

Not comprehending the stranger’s kindness – or why exactly he had to eat it – Yato looked back at him for answers, but his heavy footsteps were already fading down the corridor as the cabin door glided shut with a dull thump.

The trio remained silent.

“Who’s that?” Yato asked stupidly after a long pause.

“He didn’t say,” Hiyori said quietly. Her eyes stayed trained on Yato’s as he grasped the seat and hauled himself back up, “What was that thing?”

“… It was a Dementor.”

“What the hell is a Dementor doing out here?!” Yukine burst out, catching them by surprise.

Hiyori looked between the two, a sense of dread overtaking her when she carefully asked:

“What’s a Dementor?”

“Dark creatures,” Yukine said, uneasiness evident in his voice when he cast a side long look at Yato when he continued, “they feed on happiness and consume a person’s soul.”

Hiyori looked like she was about to be ill, a shaking hand covering her mouth.

“Question is,” Yukine said, unsuccessfully trying to take her mind off it, “what’s it doing it here?”

Yato shrugged nonchalantly, feigning a carelessness at the ordeal. He didn’t exactly feel like discussing it, not when he still felt like there was part of him missing. One question nagged him:

“Why did it stop?”

“That man, he used a spell to make it leave,” Hiyori said. “I don’t know what it was…”

She looked to Yukine for help, but he shook his head, equally as clueless as Hiyori and Yato who gave a small frown.

“What did it look like?” Yato asked.

It was Yukine’s turn to look at Hiyori, slowly trying to find the right words which made no sense.

“It was like light, and water, but it was… shiny…” he said vaguely, moving his hands it the way the spell moved.

Yato’s small, exasperated sigh quietened the carriage again. His head had dropped again. The uneaten chocolate still sat in his clammy hand, and hadn’t gone unnoticed by Hiyori who kept a worried eye on him.

“You have to eat,” she said gently.

Yato nodded quietly. He snapped the bar in its wrapper before opening it, throwing pieces to both Yukine and Hiyori. He gave them a wry smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he stared at his reflection in the window. The ice had all but melted under the harsh pelting of raindrops of the resumed storm.

It had completely escaped his attention that the sleeping stranger was now gone, and that the man pacing down the hallway had just saved his life.

#ahahahhahahahha #fun times #time for yatos tragic past #noragami #noragami aragoto #yato #yukine #hiyori #in the darkness #hp au #my writing #Harry potter au

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thatwriter-leahlolita · 5 years ago

Text

Testing His Boundaries

Ship: Dan and Phil

Summary: Dan is meeting YouTuber AmazingPhil in Manchester for the first time, and he's really nervous to meet his friend IRL. But Phil, on the other hand, has much more planned.

Genre: Angst; Drama

----------------------------

Dan was nervous -no- terrified. He would never have thought in a million years that stalking his favourite YouTuber would result in a conversation online, nevermind a meeting IRL! He's spent the past year chatting, skyping and laughing with 'AmazingPhil', learning more and more about what they have in common. Gaming, anime, Muse and YouTube. There's more then that, but he honestly could list things all day if you let him.

Of course, there's a hint of danger. Or at least that's what his mum said, "Of course, be careful wont you? Manchester is a big city you know!"

Of course he wasn't expecting her to be okay with him meeting Phil, so he didn't tell her. He wasn't exactly lying. "I'm going to Manchester one weekend to have a look at the campus there, is that okay?"

You know her response already, clearly. But he couldn't lie and say he wasn't at all nervous, meeting a man five years older than him that he's never met beyond Skype before. In a city he doesn't really know very well... But excited nonetheless.

The train journey was long, tedious and tiresome. The whole journey, he focused on what he would say when they met for the first time. "Hi, I'm Dan."

Too obvious, he knows that already. "Hey, Phil how's it hangin'?"

Too wierd, that's not how you talk. "Can't believe I finally get to meet you in person!"

Stalker, you don't want to scare him.

He gave up eventually, hoping that the answer would come in the moment. But when the moment actually arrived, and they met at Starbucks (how very corporate of them), the answer never came.

"Hi Dan, in the real world!" Phil beamed, running up to the entrance in haste. "Sorry I'm late, I'm used to the trains around here being delayed, so I was surprized to hear you had arrived!"

"Uh, it's okay. Hi, AmazingPhil." Dan smiled back, and gave an awkward wave. His other hand stuck firmly inside his pocket of his skinny jeans.

"Come on Dan, you call me Phil on Skype even! Don't get all formal now." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"True, I guess I'm just nervous..." Dan sighed. They made their way into Starbucks to grab a coffee, before they went back to Phil's place.

Stood behind the counter, was a beautiful blonde girl with petite features and a slim figure. "Next please!"

Phil signals that Dan can go first. "Hi, can I get an Americano please."

"Americano man, huh?" Phil joked.

"Black like my soul." Dan replied.

"And yourself?" She turned to Phil.

"I'll try the limited space frappe please!" He beamed. "Paying together please."

Dan turns to Phil in shock, "Oh I couldn't expect you to-"

"My treat. You came all the way here for me, least I could do." Phil blushes.

Whilst they waited for their drinks, Phil turns to Dan. "Is the girl at the counter, you know, your type?" He asked awkwardly.

Dan looks towards her, meekly. Turns his head back to Phil and said, "Not really."

"Oh, okay. Just wondering." He blushes.

They stood is silence for a while after that, until the drinks came. Dan looks to Phil's drink, purple and blue and sprinkles on top. "Frappe guy huh?"

"Sweet like my soul!" Phil jokes back.

***

Phil's parent's house was small, quaint and simple. But Dan wasn't expecting a mansion, or a frat house. Dan was excited to stay the weekend, even if he had to deal with the awkward 'meeting the parents' scenario.

"Daniel Howell, huh?" Phil's mum queried. "How did you get to know Phil?"

"Well, I actually saw his YouTube channel. I noticed we shared the same hobbies. It's easy to get along with him." Dan blushed.

"Mum, please don't grill Dan like that." Phil whined softly.

"I'm not 'grilling' him. Just wondering how he found your silly little online videos." She giggled.

"They aren't silly videos.. YouTube's a big deal now. It's getting more popular everyday!" He whined again.

"I know, I know. You're creative, that's great."

Phil urges Dan upstairs, to escape the clutches of his mother, until they reached Phil's room. "Sorry about that."

Dan smiles softly, looking around the room that Phil grew up in. From the bright green carpet, to the horoscope wallpaper, to the green and blue bedding and the wooden wardrobe. It was... an interesting choice, to say the least. "It's fine, really."

Soaking all the room in, Dan was urged to the bed to sit down and his bags were relocated to the side of the dresser. Phil's room was dark, the curtains closed leaving the room mysterious and hollow. Despite this, the brightness of his decor and the happiness beaming from the two of them right now filled the room in a glowing green sunshine.

"I saw your video." Phil smiled. "It was cute."

"It sucked, but it's a start. If you have any tips, I'm all ears." Dan responded.

Phil looked over to Dan, a pout on his face. "I think you did great. Oh! I know."

Phil slaps Dan's arm in excitement. "We should do a collab video now you're here, and you know, Danisnotonfire!"

Dan winces, the blood rushing to his cheeks quicker than he can think of a response. "I don't know... nobody even knows who I am. I doubt they'd want me on your videos just yet."

Phil smiles, a hand on Dan's shoulder and another on the bed. "Nonsense. Think of it as a promo, if it helps. Get you started!"

"I guess... but what would we even do?" Dan asked, confused. "I haven't even really decided on a 'theme' yet."

"Well, I've always wanted to do a collab Q&A, but I haven't really had the chance yet." Phil continues, "We could call it... Philisnotonfire!"

"Philisnotonfire? That's... a stupid title!" Dan laughs. "Surely there's a better name for it."

Phil smiles widely, "So, is that a yes?"

"... sure." Dan smiles back, meekly.

***

After the video, Dan and Phil decided that they would play on the XBOX together. They sat infront of Phil's TV in the living room together, shoulders touching and legs crossed. Nudging and budging eachother in attempt to put eachother off.

Dan wins, eventually. And he isn't humble with his celebration, causing Phil to grumble into Dan's chest beside him. Dan blushes, and stiffens slightly. "Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah?" Phil mumbles into Dan's chest.

"What's your type?" Dan blushes.

"Why do you ask?" Phil sits up again, focusing his attention towards Dan now.

"Well," he responds softly, "you asked me earlier if that girl was my type. I was wondering what your type is?"

Phil stared at Dan, and smiles. "Oh well you see, I'm actually into guys. Usually like, just guys I can really get along with and we can have a laugh together. I don't really know if I have a type."

"You're gay?" Dan replied.

"Yeah... is that, okay?" Phil responds in a low voice, concerned eyes flicker towards Dan.

"Yeah, of course." Dan blushes. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm gay too. Being honest, I'm still not sure if I'm bisexual or just full on gay. It's a long story. Never really told anyone that, though."

Phil smiles, his eyes glittering and his face lit up. "So I'm the first you've told? I'm honored. I hope you can live your truth one day, though."

"Me too." Dan sighs. "But I don't know what to think. I don't really like labels that much."

"That's okay!" Phil leans in towards Dan and grabs him into a strong hug. "Perfectly okay."

Dan pushes his face into Phil's shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his hug. Phil hugs Dan tighter, staring over his shoulder happily. "Hey, Dan?"

"Yeah?" Dan responds softly, a small tear rolling down his eyes.

Phil breaths in, then out and asks, "Any chance, that I'm your type?"

Dan grips Phil tighter, and swallows softly. "Well, yes. I suppose you are."

Phil smiles widely, the happiness clear in his face. He pulls away from Dan, who has become a red faced mess. They stared at each other for a while, before Dan asks quietly: "Phil, are your parents home today?"

"Not right now," he responds, his voice also very meek. "Why?"

Dan ignores him, and slowly leans forward, making his way towards Phil. A tender, loving kiss stops Phil in his tracks, as the replay of their latest game rolls on in the background. He leans further in, joining the kiss lovingly.

When the game replay ends, so do they. "Dan," Phil breath is fast and quick, catching up with itself. "Do you want to..."

Dan's heart runs faster then he's ever experienced, experiencing what he can only assume is his first experience with cardio in his unexercised life so far.

Suddenly, the loud click of the door being opened fills the silence around them. The yellowing of "I'm home!" followed.

Phil swallowed again, turning towards the screen infront of them "...play another round?" He finishes.

Dan smiled, happily, with flushed cheeks. "Sure."

#daniel howell #amazingphil #phil lester #danisnotonfire #phanfiction #phan #writing #fanfic #ship

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